The Argument for Starbucks

Confession: I frequent Starbucks in Paris.  I take full advantage of their maroon and hunter green facilities.  I write there, I think there, I drink sweet coffee-like drinks, and sometimes I even snack on plastic-wrapped, blatantly non-French eats.  I used to practice this blasphemous American behavior only at off hours in the bowels of Les Halles, that mucky, subterranean urban-planning failure that gives a home to various alternative behaviors, including the break-dancing circles right next to the café.  But as the globally imperialist Seattle-based brand begins to pop up elsewhere in the city, I have come to realize something unexpected: in the face of Parisians, I have nothing to be ashamed of.   I see now, retrospectively, that this behavior was in fact only shaming when I discussed it with fellow Americans.  For as much as the French might think that America the ‘nation’ (if we were able to be unified as such) is an imperialist regime, they famously fail to follow through when it comes to resisting the hostile takeover on a cultural level: ‘McDo’, or McDonald’s, is huge here, as is Coke, Nike, and several other brands that might make some international Americans queasy.  The difference, so far, is that Starbucks is not nearly as proliferous here.  So it’s less of a banality in the city of old and smoky cafés.  Pharmacies, rather, are the banality of the Parisian topography, appearing on every corner (sometimes twice) as a quiet oasis for self-care and nurturing.  But the equivalent of that oasis in New York, of course, is Starbucks, an almost per-block requirement where many New Yorkers find a temporary reprieve from whatever it is they do nearby.  And Americans on this side of the water can therefore spot the grim future.  Homogenization, full steam ahead.   But then again, can it be identified as homogenization when it’s injected into the foreign, fertile zone of French culture?  For the typical Parisian, something like Starbucks might actually be fresh and new.  The plain fact that the offerings there are NOT French-style patisserie is why it might make sense.  Muffins can translate into exotic breakfast food, just like religieuses and macaroons equal something different and tasty for us.  The coffee might not be the high standard of French quality, but maybe that’s the point.  It’s not French!  Plus, there’s takeout – I drink coffee, that savory hallmark of French tradition, on the sidewalk!  Through a travel lid.  I would bet there is no real French word or expression to communicate ‘travel lid’.  For them, if it needs a lid, why travel with it?  Take a seat, repose-toi!   But why do I do this?  Why do I even bother with Starbucks in the first place?  As an American, I should willingly join up with my comrades in the effort to thwart the Americanization of our fair city of light.  The reason is this: when I shlep my laptop in to a typical French café (like the Arts et Metiers), I am flooded with the images of writers who have done the same before me.  Hemingway, Orwell, Sedaris…the list is known by one and all.  And how does it make me feel?  In a word, damn cliché.  It’s just too much for me; the smoke, the mug, the waiter, the hushed romantic tones of conversation.  This reaction is completely ridiculous and perhaps a tad sensitive, I know, but it’s how I feel.  When I walk into Starbucks, on the other hand, there is a bland modernity that gets in the way of these quaint feelings.  I can write, cliché-free.   Another reason might be that sometimes, being away from your home is only so enriching in the way it can remind you of what you love or know best.  I don’t love Starbucks, but there is a nostalgic comfort there.  Something simple and familiar.  And there are times when I like to seek out that familiarity when far from home, by reconstructing homey pleasures and comforts no matter where I am.  It’s a habit that I’m sure most travelers and expats can relate to.   Another way to participate in this pastime is at the movies.  New York may be geographically part of the ‘American film empire’, but it has nothing on Paris.  Paris is a city of movies, both in inspiration and more practically as a place with great movie theaters.  Unfortunately, the age of the multiplex has not spared Paris, but at least there are certain multiplexes that still smack of something chic and français.  I am referring to the MK2 cinemas.  The facility at Bibliotheque-Francois Mitterand is by far my favorite big theater in Paris, since the entrance pavilion makes most upscale galleries look paltry.  And if you’re lucky, there might even be some artwork up.  If for nothing else, the two-person loveseats with removable armrests are of a luxury foreign to other places.  Once inside a UGC multiplex, however, you’ll quickly feel it: welcome to America.  They definitely get points for authenticity, but their enormous and labyrinthine movie theatres are just plain unpleasant in that sprawling, American way.  To avoid that, you also have a healthy list of smaller theaters still in existence, mostly on the left bank in the 6th and 13th arrondissements.  Though no matter where you go, you can just as easily warm up with a frothy Jennifer Lopez movie as with an experimental Japanese film in which the subtitles are not even necessary in order to appreciate the action.  And these are frequently on offer at the same cinema!  This is why Paris is the best city to escape the rain by way of a movie theater, hands down.     The real distance between Paris and NY is not so great.  Perhaps that’s a good thing!  Aside from big movie theatres and Starbucks, it is…