orality and story in English

  • Orality and Storytelling

    France Paraguay – Golden Goal 1998

    This Saturday, July 4th at 11 pm, following a series of impressive victories in the group stages, France plays Paraguay for a place in the last 8 of the 2026 FIFA World Cup. It is not the first time that the two teams have met at this stage of the competition. It also happened 28 years ago during the 1998 World Cup which would make les Bleus world champions for the first time. I can still remember the winning goal very clearly. Laurent Blanc, who wasn't necessarily a player who scored goals, hit home the winner when nothing else had worked. I still carry the sense of the perfect timing…

  • Orality and Storytelling

    Come on baby, do the Locomotion

    Doesn't everybody want to do the locomotion? Little Eva pointed us towards something essential when she sang The Locomotion, that classic song by Goffin & King from 1962. And she was right. Whether you're a driver or a passenger, we all love to feel that movement from where we are to where we want to be as long as we do it nice and easy and don't lose control with a little bit of rhythm and a lot of soul. But sometimes we do lose control. Fortunately, the driver is there to help with areassuring announcement.

  • Orality and Storytelling

    Roots laid bare on the limestone plateau of Leucate

    Since 2025, the trees in the Aude region of France have paid a high price for extreme weather and climate events. The other day, we followed an unexplored track on the plateau of Leucate in order to leave the main road where everyone else was walking. The path was easy to follow until we came upon an obstacle in the form of an uprooted tree lying stretched out on its side as if it had fallen into a deep sleep, thrown down by Storm Nils on 12 February 2026. More than two months later, none had dared awaken the sleeping giant.

  • Orality and Storytelling

    The undertaker’s friend

    This piece first came to life as a spontaneous oral story when talking casually with friends about how narrative could just come out of the air. The man and the horse walking together were suddenly there and I followed them to the bridge. Later I realised it was an echo of an anecdote I'd forgotten from my mother's family who raised horses in County Cork on her father's side, and I wrote it down.

  • The Subjective Classroom

    The story of a speech disorchestrated

    The prospect of speaking in public leaves nobody indifferent. There's no such thing as a perfect speech, we all know that. But we also know that accepting to stand up and speak means that anything can happen - for better or for worse. It makes you think, doesn't it? After all, our voice is us, it's our identity. For all these reasons, I have chosen to write about a recent experience I had speaking in public in front of quite a large audience where I completely lost my thread. For a brief instant I stammered, I stuttered and I spluttered. But I survived and, above all, I decided to take…

  • Orality and Storytelling

    Eye-awful wildfire in France

    I was at the beach in Leucate for a family afternoon when at around 4pm the sky began to change colour. Darker and darker, first taking the heat off the sun but in the space of less than an hour then stealing the light. It reminded me of a solar eclipse. People were still at the beach but the sky was no longer blue.

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  • Orality and Storytelling

    Going against the flow : faces in the crowd

    Crowds can make us feel safe and give us a sense of belonging, but they can also make us feel uncomfortable and leave us dreaming of a space of our own. The same can be said of life online, where the invitation to click or share to show our approval or dispproval as one of the crowd is so difficult to resist. But how do we percieve somebody who breaks free from a crowd of whatever sort and takes their own path? A street photo by Alejandro Diez invites us to explore precisely that question.

  • Orality and Storytelling

    The Room Next Door

    Is there a door to death? Seeing the new Almodovar film about assisted dying sent me back to something I wrote down in answer to this question after seeing my mother for the last time. Quite a journey, but one which shows what happens when metaphors get real. Let me try and explain.