Jean Renoir,The Rules of the Game,Reputation, and Revisionism

Jean Renoir's film La Règle du jeu (The Rules of the Game) was first shown in Paris, in 1939, and is now generally regarded as one of his masterpieces. But there is a strange side to the film. What most critics and reference books say concerning it—and they tend to say much the same thing—does not, to put it bluntly, square with the facts. What they say is that La Règle du jeu is about an aristocratic house-party that is a microcosm of the corruptness and exhaustion of French society on the eve of World War II. Far from perceiving in La Règle du jeu evidence of the “corruption” and “exhaustion” in French society that led to the country's defeat and occupation by the Germans during World War II, however, the author of this essay attempts to see the film for what it is—not for what historicist critics want it to be.     

Jean Comandon Neuroscientist

The microbiologist Jean Comandon is famous for his studies on the movement of the syphilis bacteria as differentiated in various forms by ultramicroscope. He was also a pioneer on the technical application of the microcinematography in laboratory research. His collaboration with clinicians and surgeons in the study of various pathological disorders is little known. From 1918 to the 1920s, he collaborated with such neurologists as André Thomas, Jean Athanase Sicard, and others in the study of various neurological disorders by using cinematography as a scientific tool for understanding the clinical and pathological mechanisms of diseases. These collaborations allowed him to be involved in the beginnings of the French cinematography industry, especially with Charles Pathé who established a small film studio laboratory in Vincennes where a multidisciplinary group improved the application of cinematography in clinical medical practice.     

Jean Charlot and Classical Hawaiian Culture

A small group of Japanese civilian internees from the South Pacific were confined in New Zealand during World War II, with some being subsequently transferred to Australia in readiness for planned civilian exchanges with Japan. Most from Tonga had Japanese wives and children who were also detained in New Zealand. With one exception, all Japanese who had local wives and families were forced to leave them behind in either Tonga or Fiji. These families proved an anomaly to the Fijian authorities who had to provide care for some, even non-Fijians. In defining who was supported in their former island homes and who was ultimately deported to Japan or allowed to return to the islands, racial attitudes of the various administrations emerge, reflecting an antipathy towards Asians not found in regard to other enemy aliens of the time. New Zealand played the role of honest broker but it, too, did not offer any permanent home to displaced Japanese civilians after the war ended, and supported the expulsion of them from the South Pacific.     

Jean Norton Cru and combatants' literature of the First World War

Using the unpublished archives of Jean Norton Cru, held at the University of Aix-en-Provence, this article provides a new interpretation of Cru's famous book on First World War literature, Témoins, first published in 1929. This work severely criticised a large number of books of soldiers' experiences of combat. Here a new reading of Cru's motives is offered, looking in particular at the author's Protestant background as well as at the links between reading and writing strategies.     

Richard II in Jean Froissart's Chroniques

Jean Froissart's Chroniques have been traditionally listed among sources sympathetic to King Richard II of England (1377–1399). Especially in more recent times, when Richard has attracted increased attention — and when numerous studies have attempted the rehabilitation of his character — Froissart's account has been brought forward to counterbalance the negative depictions of Richard dished up in Lancastrian chronicles.But as a careful reading of the Chroniques reveals, Froissart was more critical of Richard, and of his policies, than previously thought. Time after time Froissart assails Richard's poor handling of critical events, and he questions Richard's judgement in any number of instances. More poithe point, Richard emerges in the Chroniques as the architect of his own undoing; and we find Froissart wondering, aloud, whether England was not better off in being rid of Ricardian absolutism. In the final analysis, then, the overwhelmingly anti-Ricardian portrait of Richard painted by Froissart suggests more universal disapproval of the king than so far recognized, and it stands in stark contrast to the assessments of other French narratives.