No Regrets - Carolyn Burke [116]
She kept her sadness to herself after learning of Doug Davis’s death in a plane explosion on June 3, just after his embarkation with a group of art students bound for Atlanta. (McKuen wrote a poem entitled “Orly Field” as a memorial to Davis.) Mourning his death, which brought back that of Cerdan, Edith threw herself into preparations for the future. She rehearsed nonstop with Figus and Sarapo after persuading both Dumont and the young composer Francis Lai to set the lyrics she had written for her protégés. When Figus began singing at Chez Patachou, she worked exclusively with Théo, teaching him to support a song’s meanings with body language and gestures, often making him rehearse until he was near exhaustion.
By June, Théo was ready to sing Emer’s love duet “A quoi ça sert, l’amour?” with Edith, the composer having rewritten it for them at her request. They appeared on national television as a couple who ask each other questions about love’s purpose. “What is love good for?” Théo crooned, gazing down at Edith. The reason for living, she sang, looking up into his eyes: “A chaque fois j’y crois / Et j’y croirai toujours / Ça sert à ça, l’amour.” Once again, amour rhymed with toujours. Willing herself to believe that this would be the case with Théo, she smiled: “Mais toi, t’es le dernier! / Mais toi, t’es le premier! / … / Toi que j’aimerai toujours / Ça sert à ça, l’amour.” (“Each time I believe / And I always will / … / But you’re the last one! / You’re the first one! / … / I’ll love you always / That’s what love is good for.”)
In June, Pierre Desgraupes began his third televised interview with the star by asking, “Edith Piaf, are you happy?” “I’m happy when I’m singing,” she replied, “very happy.” To his query about the source of her strength, she said, “It’s a question of faith.” When he asked if she believed in chance, she smiled and said, “I simply believe.” Love had never disappointed her; it had given all that she desired. When Desgraupes asked why she always gave so much to younger singers, she said that she could see into people: “I have a kind of second sight. Even if no one else sees, I do. I see what a person will be in two years’ time.” As for Sarapo, she continued, “He’s exceeded my expectations; he’s learned with remarkable speed.”
Edith toured the north of France with her two secretaries turned singing partners at the end of June; in July, she and Théo vacationed in Cannes, where they also gave several concerts. After an affectionate onstage reunion with Les Compagnons in Nice, she introduced Théo as her fiancé. “To be able to sing, you must be in love,” she added—a comment that made clear how closely their engagement was tied to her vision of the future. Though traditionalists might call them “the most dissimilar, astonishing, touching, ridiculous, irritating, sympathique, immoral couple,” the public loved the idea that la môme had found happiness.
On her return to Paris, Piaf prepared six new songs, including “Roulez tambours,” “A quoi ça sert, l’amour,” and “Le Droit d’aimer”—whose lyrics proclaimed her right to love and be loved, “no matter what they say.” On September 25, she chanted “Le Droit d’aimer” from a platform on the Eiffel Tower to the huge audience gathered for the opening of Darryl Zanuck’s film on the Normandy invasion, The Longest Day. Terrified by the height, she nonetheless followed the new song with the previous year’s anthem, “Non, je ne regrette rien”—that night embodying the twin aspects of her persona as France’s eternal amoureuse and as she who rises above adversity to triumph. “To attain