Katy Masuga is a recently naturalized French-American writer and professor in Paris, who was raised in a small town in California. She is the author of two monographs on Henry Miller, two novels, and short stories and essays on subjects from altered-book artists to Beckett to the vegetarian diet of Frankenstein’s creature. Masuga has taught at the Sorbonne (Paris IV), Université Paris-Est, Skidmore College Paris, American University of Paris, and the University of Washington at Seattle’s comparative-lit program in Paris. Her second novel, The Blue of Night, is forthcoming from Caffeinated Press.
I imagine you taught in English at the Sorbonne and Université Paris-Est. But what about outside of class? Do you speak French with students?
When I first moved to Paris “permanently” in 2010 (I had previously spent a year post-M.A. and a year post-Ph.D. in Paris), I was teaching at the Sorbonne (Paris IV) and Université Paris-Est. Yes, those courses were all in English. I was teaching in a variety of my research areas including image and text relations and 1920s and ’30s American culture, literature, and film. These were undergraduate and graduate courses, and the students were predominantly French. Naturally, outside of class, we spoke French but also English as much as possible. I subsequently taught for a year at the American University of Paris, which was in English and was predominantly foreign students (not many French, not many Americans, incidentally). In that case, we pretty much always spoke English. I recently began teaching at the University of Washington in Paris and taught a French course last year which was, of course, all in French and was taught to Americans! So I have experienced all sides of the equation.
How is teaching in Paris different?
That first year was a real eye-opener. The U.S. and French university systems operate very differently. French universities are not only public but also effectively free, which means more students and fewer resources. Students are not usually technically required to attend classes. They are simply required to pass the final exam (or write the final paper, etc.). Students expect and receive significantly lower grades. The classroom dynamic includes far less dialogue. My undergrads were shocked that I wanted them to speak and share their thoughts and ideas during class time. Even the graduate students were hard-pressed to open up.
How would you compare the skill set of French undergraduates — writing, knowledge of literary theory, etc. — compared with students in the U.S.? Are there specific areas of deficiency or competency?
French students learn subjects in high school that Americans learn only in college if at all: psychology, logic, philosophy, literary theory and so on. At the same time, English is still not very strong in French schools. Of course, French is certainly not strong in American schools. These are generalizations, but if we are looking at federal requirements of children K-12, neither country has very strong language requirements compared with Scandinavia or Germany. One basic impression I’ve had is that while both sets are receptive, the French students are more critical while Americans are more absorbing, if you will. French students have been exposed to more subjects earlier in school, and more material in general, whereas the Americans are often learning the subject matter for the first time.
Was it difficult to adjust to faculty life among French academics?
I have felt at home among French faculty. There are definitely administrative challenges, in part related to the under-financed nature of French universities. But the faculty dynamic has been great. In fact, I have several relationships from my French university days that feel like family to me.
What is it like teaching Americans in France?
It’s been fantastic. I really enjoy teaching in the study-abroad environment. (I also taught for just shy of five years for the Skidmore College study-abroad program in Paris before it was outsourced to a private company.) I appreciate being part of American students’ nascent experience with living in another country and encountering the culture with curious, fresh eyes. Equally, teaching at French universities in Paris, especially on Anglo-American culture and humanities to the native students here, has been exciting—and an honor, truthfully. The two experiences have so much in common and yet naturally so many wonderful differences as well.
Has your fiction been influenced by academic life in Paris?
Certainly, if by nothing else than the historical locations where I’ve taught: the ancient, stone facades, the winding staircases, the incomprehensibly hidden Kafkaesque offices … (If you need a copy of your French-language proficiency certificate, good luck! After entering the grand hall of the Sorbonne and finding your way through the vast corridors and stairwells, at one point you enter a small hall with a spiral staircase, which you do not follow but instead exit out onto an internal courtyard, re-enter after an outdoor passage, ascend a half flight of stairs, exit onto a narrow balcony, turn in the direction from which you came, re-enter through a door, cross a classroom and enter a kind of closet: In there you will find the certification office.) Yes, being part of the academic landscape here, literally and figuratively, offers the imagination a wild ride.
Have you any advice for the U.S. academics coming to teach in Paris?
I think American academics visiting Paris are certainly revered and respected in the French university environment, all the more so if they speak French! I would like to play a more active role if I could in promoting interaction among American and French faculty, among programs, among students. I do think any kind of cross-cultural exchange always brings positive results particularly where learning is involved. I’m on the lookout for opportunities.
As for advice, the most obvious of course is simply to appreciate and engage the host culture and customs. Efforts are well received. I would also add: don’t let the bureaucracy discourage you. It can be overwhelming, and unfortunately it doesn’t go away. You just have to accept it with a deep breath and imagine it as part of the true and lived French experience. Finally, save room in your suitcase for cheese and wine! (Yes, it’s legal.)
Jeffrey Herlihy-Mera is an associate professor in the department of humanities at the University of Puerto Rico at Mayagüez. His books include After American Studies (Routledge, 2018), In Paris or Paname: Hemingway’s Expatriate Nationalism, and, as editor, Paris in American Literatures.