He was uncompromising when composing his songs. His tactical method of addressing issues was profound and often humorous, making him a unique and effective figure in the French community.
Brassens, born in 1921 in the small Mediterrenean port of Sete, wanted to be a poet. He realized very early however that poetry in the 20th century could hardly put bread on the table and instead set himself to become a singer.
He is much less famous internationally than contemporaries like Charles Aznavour, Edith Piaf and Yves Montand, as much of the impact of his songs came from the lyrics, which proved difficult to translate into other languages. He loved the Middle Ages and used a great deal of Old French vocabulary, as well as many classical - ie., Latin and Greek - references. Few people, even in France, possess the background to fully understand his songs.
Yet he was at the same time a hugely popular singer and many of his songs still carry a lot of appeal and relevance. In this sense, he can be compared to Boris Vian, to Jacques Brel, and to a lesser extent to Serge Gainsbourg.
He was very sophisticated, yet at the same time used profanity liberally. While he wasn't politically engaged, he was nevertheless unambiguously a leftist, many of his songs carrying blatant and buoyant anarchist overtones.
While his music was initially quite primitive, the 1950's St-Germain-des-Pres influence quickly made itself felt and while subdued and - in his mind - always secondary to the lyrics, it became increasingly sophisticated - to the point that many of his songs have been covered and reinterpretated by jazzmen (see for instance this UK site: www.projetbrassens.eclipse.co.uk)
He died in 1981, but up to this date (2006) there are few French people - including most of those born since - who can't sing along to his most famous song, Les Copains d'abord ("Friends foremost") or his "Bancs public" ("Public Benches").
For those interested, this site carries a number of (quite good) English tranlations of his songs: www.brassens.org
Revenant
Georges Brassens Lyrics
Jump to: Overall Meaning ↴ Line by Line Meaning ↴
En un mot résidentiel
Tel était le cimetière où
Cet imbécile avait son trou
Comme il ne reconnaissait pas
Le bien-fondé de son trépas
L'a voulu faire aberration !
Les vieux morts, les vieux "ici-gît"
Les braves sépulcres blanchis
Insistèrent pour qu'il revînt
Sur sa décision mais en vain
L'ayant astiquée, il remit
Sur pied sa vieille anatomie
Et tout pimpant, tout satisfait
Prit la clef du champ de navets
Chez lui s'en étant revenu
Son chien ne l'a pas reconnu
Et lui croque en deux coups de dents
Un des os les plus importants
En guise de consolation
Pensa faire une libation
Boire un coup de vin généreux
Mais tous ses tonneaux sonnaient creux
Quand dans l'alcôve il est entré
Embrasser sa veuve éplorée
Il jugea d'un simple coup d'il
Qu'elle ne portait plus son deuil
Il la trouve se réchauffant
Avec un salaud de vivant
Alors chancelant dans sa foi
Mourut une seconde fois
La commère au potron-minet
Ramassa les os qui traînaient
Et pour une bouchée de pain
Les vendit à des carabins
Et, depuis lors, ce macchabée
Dans l'amphithéâtre tombé
Malheureux, poussiéreux, transi
"Ah ! ce qu'on s'emmerde ici" !
The song Revenant by Georges Brassens is a story about a fool who does not acknowledge the validity of his death and decides to come back to life. He wakes up in a peaceful and residential cemetery, where he had been buried, and realizes that he is alive again. The old graves and tombs of the cemetery tried to convince him to return to the afterlife, but he refused and, feeling triumphant and refreshed, collected his belongings and went back to his home. However, things were different; his dog did not recognize him, and his wife found someone else. The singer died again, and his bones were collected by the medical students for their studies.
The song is a metaphor for the inevitability of death and the irrationality of trying to escape it. The fool's desire to defy death and return to life only leads to disappointment and suffering. The lyrics offer a critical commentary on social norms and expectations, ridiculing the bourgeois values of comfort and conformity represented by the residential cemetery.
Line by Line Meaning
Calme, confortable, officiel
The cemetery was calm, comfortable, and official.
En un mot résidentiel
In one word, residential.
Tel était le cimetière où
Such was the cemetery where
Cet imbécile avait son trou
This imbecile had his hole.
Comme il ne reconnaissait pas
As he did not recognize
Le bien-fondé de son trépas
The justification for his death,
L'a voulu faire aberration !
He wanted to make it an aberration!
Sa petite résurrection
His little resurrection.
Les vieux morts, les vieux "ici-gît"
The old dead, the old "here lyes"
Les braves sépulcres blanchis
The brave, whitened tombs
Insistèrent pour qu'il revînt
Insisted that he return
Sur sa décision mais en vain
On his decision but in vain.
L'ayant astiquée, il remit
Having polished it, he put back
Sur pied sa vieille anatomie
His old anatomy on its feet
Et tout pimpant, tout satisfait
And all spruced up, completely satisfied
Prit la clef du champ de navets
He took the key to the turnip field.
Chez lui s'en étant revenu
Having returned home
Son chien ne l'a pas reconnu
His dog did not recognize him
Et lui croque en deux coups de dents
And bit him in two bites
Un des os les plus importants
One of the most important bones.
En guise de consolation
As a form of consolation
Pensa faire une libation
He thought about making a libation
Boire un coup de vin généreux
Drinking a generous glass of wine
Mais tous ses tonneaux sonnaient creux
But all his barrels were empty.
Quand dans l'alcôve il est entré
When he entered the alcove
Embrasser sa veuve éplorée
To embrace his grieving widow
Il jugea d'un simple coup d'il
He judged with just one look
Qu'elle ne portait plus son deuil
That she was no longer in mourning.
Il la trouve se réchauffant
He found her warming herself
Avec un salaud de vivant
With a damn living man.
Alors chancelant dans sa foi
Then, faltering in his faith
Mourut une seconde fois
He died a second time.
La commère au potron-minet
The local gossip
Ramassa les os qui traînaient
Picked up the bones that lay scattered
Et pour une bouchée de pain
And for a pittance
Les vendit à des carabins
Sold them to some medical students.
Et, depuis lors, ce macchabée
And ever since then, this corpse
Dans l'amphithéâtre tombé
In the fallen amphitheater
Malheureux, poussiéreux, transi
Miserable, dusty, shivering
"Ah ! ce qu'on s'emmerde ici" !
"Ah! How bored we are here!"
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
Written by: GEORGES CHARLES BRASSENS, JEAN BERTOLA
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind