‘Cocorico’ is French for cock-a-doodle-doo and a symbol of national pride. I’ve posted before about the Coq Gaulois and why it’s our national mascot. Now, recent events have inspired me to provide an update on the Gallic rooster. Or at least one noisy bird called Maurice.

You may have heard of the feisty fellow. Maurice made headlines around the world this summer as he became the object of a dispute between neighbours on an island off the west coast of France, Île d’Oléron. Joined to the mainland by a bridge on the Atlantic, it’s an idyllic holiday spot.

Maurice was crowing too early in the day and with too much gusto as far as his city-slicker neighbours were concerned. Roosters can make a hell of a racket. And they don’t just crow when the sun comes up. They can be like watch dogs, setting off their vocal alarm at odd hours of the day or night. This upset the holiday people who had bought a second home in the country to enjoy some peace and quiet.

The problem is that the countryside is not by nature a quiet place. There are ducks and chickens and cows and church bells. The farmers are out from dawn to dusk and their machines also make noise. The court case between Maurice and the city people represented the great divide between urban and rural France. The city mice vs. the country mice.

When justice was decided and Maurice won the right to crow his little heart out, it was like a victory for all of the French cocks. And I’m not just talking about our feathered friends. ‘Cocorico’ is not only the onomatopeia for the rooster’s crow, it’s a word that describes the sound of French pride. One that finds its roots deep in the dusty soil of la campagne.

It sparked a whole series of memes like the one below, warning outsiders to beware of the country village with its noisy church bells and farm animals. Love it or leave it!

I had to look up the meanings of a couple of words from in a French online dictionary to fully appreciate the above meme, which led me to a list of slang words for the Savoie region. A ‘monchu’ is a city slicker or a novice to a sport like skiing. It derives from ‘Monsieur’ and is associated with that most detested of Frenchmen in provincial France, ie the Parisian. ‘Arvi’pa’ means: get out, go away, get lost, ciao!

Here is the story of Maurice from an American point of view:

I’m of two minds about this. Personally, I would not be able to live in harmony next to noisy church bells or an overly enthusiastic rooster. But I understand that they have been doing their thing for centuries, so it’s up to me to adapt.

What do you think about Maurice’s victory? Should tradition stand or French villages adapt to changing times?