Two Halves of a Nation

Since the middle of the 19th century, France has been not one but two countries: the affluent and the poor. Today it is still a country divided by income, class and ideology, as the closely fought presidential election graphically demonstrated. Yet the two Frances are linked by a common materialistic concern: the bourgeoisie is intent on keeping the life-style that money allows, while the poor are hoping for a larger share of the nation's growing wealth. Last week TIME Correspondent Paul Ress interviewed two French families, one headed by a struggling Norman truck driver, the other by a well-to-do Paris engineer. Ress's report:

THE MAUGARDS, Robert and Yvette, live with their six children in the Norman hamlet of St.-Quentin-des-Iles (pop. 230). Robert, 35, is a truck driver who works 50 to 55 hours a week for take-home wages that average $83. The family also gets government supplements that total $51 per week, giving the Maugards a pretax income of $134 per week.* "My husband's pay is much too low for driving a big truck 50 to 55 hours a week," complains Yvette, 30. "That's not the 40-hour week the Popular Front voted in 1936, now is it?" Adds Robert: "It's pretty hard to make ends meet, but somehow we manage."

The Maugards rent their two-story, three-bedroom house, a former vicarage, for $100 a month. They have repaired its worst defects, but there is no central heating. Two space heaters fight a losing battle against the damp cold of a Norman winter. "The chimney is cracked, and the mayor won't repair anything," she says. "The septic tank smells terrible, and we're crowded together. My two smallest children sleep in the same bedroom as my husband and I." Their grounds are ample, however. The Maugards are able to eat their own chickens, turkeys and rabbits, as well as vegetables from their garden.

Since they both come from poor peasant families, Robert and Yvette consider their present lifestyle, hard as it is, an improvement over what they knew as children. They have a television set, a washing machine and a secondhand Peugeot station wagon, and Robert, like all French workers, gets a generous five-week vacation every year. One week of the five is usually spent on camping trips with the family, while Robert uses the other four to earn extra money at odd jobs in the village.

Still, the Maugards are not where they would like to be. "Everything is rising but my husband's salary," says Yvette. "Like most workers, I'm very, very discontented." Both voted for Mitterrand, who they thought would do more for the workers. "We didn't like Giscard," says Yvette with finality. "He's not from our kind of family."

THE RAGUINS, Pierre and France, almost define the good life that young Parisians aspire to. Pierre, 35, is a successful urban development consultant with an income of $22,000. France, 32, is a part-time decorator who earns more than $6,000 a year. They live in a handsome but inexpensive six-room, sixth-floor apartment on the Rue de Ponthieu, just a block from the Champs-Elysees, with their two small daughters. A full-time maid lives on the floor above. In winter the Raguins take a week off to ski in the French Alps; in summer they rent a modestly priced seaside villa for a month on the island of Corsica, where they sail and waterski. Occasionally during the year they take long weekend trips to London or resorts in France. Though they could probably afford it, they do not own a country house. Both detest traffic and tremble at the thought of the interminable, bumper-to-bumper return to the city every Sunday night.

True Parisians, the Raguins love the city and go out constantly, to the theater, movies, cabarets and restaurants. "Paris is a wonderful place to live," says France. Though she works, France arranges her time so that she, and not the maid, takes care of the girls, Severine and Marielle. As a working mother, she receives $22 a month from the state.

For fear of offending his clients, Pierre refuses to say how he and France voted. Their discontents, however, are those of the moneyed, who can afford to worry about the course of government and the quality of French life. "We have enough money," admits Pierre. "But all thoughtful bourgeois of my generation can't help noticing that there are very few young people running France. We have no influence on events."

*To give some idea of how far money goes in France: a color TV costs a minimum of $700, a medium-sized refrigerator at least $240, and a washing machine $220. A quart of milk costs 28-c- to 32-c-, while medium-quality steak goes for $2.50 to $3 per lb.

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