The twilight of life is always hard, but even more so for those who were myths of youth and beauty. Perplexed and saddened, France watches the bitter twilight, for different reasons, of two stars of its popular culture of the 20th century, Alain Delon and Françoise Hardy. The first is the center of a rather miserable family war over the care he receives. The second, who turns 80 tomorrow, is seriously ill with cancer and pleads, even in a recent letter to President Emmanuel Macron, that she be able to decide for herself a dignified death.
Hardy was the incarnation of the yeyé girl, a symbol of the new femininity that emerged in the 60s. France fell in love with this singer and actress for her style, her look and her voice. It took ten minutes of television, on October 28, 1962, during a musical break while the country awaited the result of a referendum, for the seduction to triumph. To her perfect romantic silhouette (1.71 meters and 51 kilos) was added the song, also irresistible in that context: Tous les garçons et les filles
“All the boys and girls my age walk down the street two by two,” Hardy complained. All boys and girls my age know well what it means to be happy… I walk the streets alone, my soul in pain.” This lament, combined with Hardy’s physique, was a delicious cocktail. In one year he had sold two million records. The yeyé girl made headlines. Paris Match dedicated two almost in a row to him. In March 1963 he participated in the Eurovision Song Contest, representing Monaco, with L’amour s’en va. She came fifth.
Years of success, love and also disappointments followed. It’s hard to manage fame. She grew up in a humble environment, in Paris, with her mother and a sister, in a tiny apartment. She suddenly became a celebrity.
For years now, Hardy has been fighting a grueling fight against cancer of the lymphatic system and larynx. After more than fifty radiotherapy treatments, she feels “imprisoned and condemned in a body that has become her worst enemy,” as revealed by her son Thomas. She has trouble breathing. She has lost mobility, memory and sight. Her main fear is drowning.
In the last known interview, published on December 14 by Paris Match and reproduced again in a special 92-page issue dedicated to her, which appeared on January 11, Hardy reiterated his deep anguish. “Do you have projects?” they asked him. “Depart for the other dimension as soon as possible and also as quickly and as painlessly as possible,” he replied.
On December 17, La Tribune Dimanche published a letter from Hardy to Macron urging him to use all his influence so that Parliament approves as soon as possible a law on euthanasia, a project that must begin processing this February and of which there is talk, euphemistically, as “the French model of end-of-life support.”
In the artist’s letter, she reminded the head of state that her desperate situation is shared by thousands of people. She cited the case of the daughter of André Malraux, the writer, resister and de Gaulle’s Minister of Culture, affected by the terrible Charcot disease. Hardy’s mother also suffered from this ailment. In the letter she acknowledged that the doctors, at the wish of the patient and with the complicity of her daughter, performed an undeclared euthanasia at that time. “It was thanks to two understanding and brave doctors that my mother did not have to go to the end of an incurable and unbearable illness,” she wrote.
Hardy explained his stay in an oncology clinic with patients who had suffered relapses and wanted to die with dignity. “Everyone regretted that euthanasia was not legalized, because they were aware of suffering needlessly,” he said. “You know, a majority of people want the legalization of euthanasia,” he concluded. We all trust in his empathy and hope that he will allow the very sick and hopeless French to stop their suffering when they know that there is no longer any relief possible.” Hardy’s gesture meant that he was even able to hold a meeting with the first lady, Brigitte Macron, shortly afterwards.
On the eve of his 80th birthday, Paris Match decided to publish, as a living tribute to what he described as a “melancholic icon”, a special issue of the magazine in which nostalgic adults and young people fascinated by that era can review, thanks to some extraordinary photos, in black and white and in color, a trajectory that marked several generations and was the mirror of a rapid sociological transformation. Hardy is seen alongside other myths, some still active, such as Mick Jagger, in 1965, or Bob Dylan, in 1966, and others already gone, such as Johnny Hallyday, in 1963.
Comment te dire adieu?, said a classic Hardy song – an adaptation of the American melody It hurts to say goodbye –, which opened his seventh album, in 1968. France is forced to say goodbye to a hallmark of collective identity, a trauma perhaps greater than saying goodbye to a love.