By Bill Simons
The Marseillaise is one of the great anthems, one of the ultimate calls for action and liberty. And just as a changeover began—deep into the fifth set of the fourth-round Battle of the Sublime Backhands between Frenchman Richard Gasquet and the Swiss Stanislas Wawrinka—a few partisan fans high up in Suzanne Lenglen stadium began to sing the anthem. Never mind that their voices were isolated, halting, off-key. They still tried to belt it out with gusto.
The sound was distant and weak. Yet everyone knew the crowd eventually would catch on, that the throng would sing. For it would be downright unpatriotic in this rather jingoistic, post-911 era of ours to ignore such a patriotic call.
Still, the Marseillaise, while emotional throughout, was slow to gather steam. The louder it got, the more it careened out of key. (One was tempted to shout out: Is there a conductor in the house?)
There are many great things about the Marseillaise. It emerged out of the French Revolution in the 18th century, playing a major role not only in subsequent social insurrections, but even in the movies. After all, there is no greater national anthem scene than the one in the 1942 classic Casablanca. The cynical, supposedly apolitical Humphrey Bogart reveals his true sentiments by signaling his fabled band in “Rick’s Cafe” to go ahead and play the Marseillaise, in order to drown out the Nazi anthem praising the fatherland pompously being sung by dreaded Germans occupying the Moroccan city.
In real life, as in Casablanca, the greatest part of the Marseillaise is its crescendo. After a proud, yet modest enough beginning, the anthem builds with strong intention into a bursting call to rebellion—”Aux armes, citoyens.”
Other anthems also have their signature traits. Our “Star-Spangled Banner,” a battle tune that celebrates flag and nation, is a notorious nightmare to sing. (On big occasions, the US Open unfurls a huge flag to accompany it; at other times, in a small marketing coup, the tournament has darling kids belt it out.) Britain’s “God Save the Queen” is a dignified homage to royalty that does pomp better than any other, while “O Canada” is relatively modern, often schmaltzy, sometimes bilingual, and always pretty and self-important.
Speaking of self-important, the Russian anthem (also known as the State Anthem of the Russian Federation) is imposing, stirring, and controversial. Officials dearly wanted to replace it, since it is based on the former Soviet Union’s anthem. But no other offering could stir emotions the way the Soviet (excuse the expression) take-no-prisoners tune did.
Didactic and in-your-face, it speaks of fraternal peoples, the wisdom of ancestors, and the sacred homeland, protected by God: “A mighty will, great glory – These are your heritage!…Be glorious, our country! We are proud of you!… Our loyalty to the Fatherland gives us strength. Thus it was, thus it is, and thus it always will be!”
Okay, we get it. The over-the-top anthem succeeds (and fails) due to its ponderous weight.
We prefer the more user-friendly Marseillaise. True, it is a blood curdling ditty. Still, it is a mercifully brief plea for justice—a call for action with that fabulous crescendo. And just as Gasquet and Wawrinka rose to go on court and resume the fray at crunch time, the crescendo kicked in and the previously sleepy and tone-deaf crowd erupted: pure emotion, exquisite theater.
But no matter how moving the Marseillaise was, Gasquet faltered deep in the fifth set, losing 6-7, 4-6, 6-4, 7-5, 8-6.
Never inclined to underestimate the impact of a tennis match, the French press first asked Gasquet, “Which pain is worse at the moment: The one in your soul or the one in your body?”
He responded,“The one in the soul for sure … the crowd was incredible. They supported me, and they did what they had to do.”
It was true. They sang a lyrical call to arms. But, this newsflash just crossed our desk: Tennis matches are won by heroic winners on the court, not heroic anthems in the stands.
