Think martial arts and a hundred Bruce Lee films spring to mind. Martial arts means the Far East, right? Wrong. There's an elegant, deadly and very French system of foot-fighting which has nothing to do with Hong Kong or Thailand. Born on the rough, port-city streets of eightteenth century Marseilles in southern France, picked up by the fencing upper-classes (to this day, matches commence with an 'en garde!' from the referee) who combined what started as various vicious kicks and open-handed slaps (very French, eh?) with Marquess of Queensbury rules English boxing thus introducing the closed fist and it's now practised by the Foreign Legion and is the French national sport (yes, we all thought that was shopping, I know).
And it's called “Savate (pronounced sa-vat) Boxe Francaise”.
So what is it? And why the big long title? Like I said, it's basically two things. The boxe francaise bit is fairly self-explanatory: French boxing. The Savate bit is more obscure and for me, a lot more interesting. It's foot-fighting or “fencing with the foot.”
The term savate is one of those French words which translates weirdly. Literally, it means 'old shoe' or boot. So far so helpful, right? There's a couple of schools of thought on the derivation here. Like, it conjures up the rough street hoodlums – boot-boys? - and brawling sailors who initially practised foot-fighting in working-class Southern France. Other people say it's an ironic reference, stemming from the idea that the oldest shoe can still deliver the most vicious kick. But whatever its actual source, savate is street-fighting – perhaps even on-board ship-fighting, since there's a theory suggestion its open-fistedness stems from the fact seamen practitioners had to keep their hands open and free to grab onto something and thus stablise themselves should their vessel roll in heavy seas.
NB 'chausson', as used in the above depiction, is a term for the slipper-type footwear apparently worn by eighteenth and nineteenth century French sailors.
So what is it? And why the big long title? Like I said, it's basically two things. The boxe francaise bit is fairly self-explanatory: French boxing. The Savate bit is more obscure and for me, a lot more interesting. It's foot-fighting or “fencing with the foot.”
The term savate is one of those French words which translates weirdly. Literally, it means 'old shoe' or boot. So far so helpful, right? There's a couple of schools of thought on the derivation here. Like, it conjures up the rough street hoodlums – boot-boys? - and brawling sailors who initially practised foot-fighting in working-class Southern France. Other people say it's an ironic reference, stemming from the idea that the oldest shoe can still deliver the most vicious kick. But whatever its actual source, savate is street-fighting – perhaps even on-board ship-fighting, since there's a theory suggestion its open-fistedness stems from the fact seamen practitioners had to keep their hands open and free to grab onto something and thus stablise themselves should their vessel roll in heavy seas.
NB 'chausson', as used in the above depiction, is a term for the slipper-type footwear apparently worn by eighteenth and nineteenth century French sailors.
So what's so special about Savate?
Where other fighting systems focus on speed, power and the athleticism of those involved, Savate favours accuracy of target and includes a lot of low kicks – to the shin, the side of the knee, the back of the knee, the front of the thigh. Blows to these areas are subtle yet completely disabling: you sweep the inside of your foot against your opponents, you may not injure him but you do knock him down as effectively as with any punch.
Not only are these kicks deadly accurate, they have great French names:-
A fouette (foo – ett – ey) is a whip-like kick, executed with the point of the foot and used to target specific areas e.g the side of the knee. And here it is in action:-
A coup de pied bas (coo di pyay bah) is a low sweeping kick, executed with the side of the foot to the opponent's shin or ankle – designed to literally sweep the foot from under him. I could find no footage of this kick anywhere which may imply a fall in popularity – it does look a bit weird and feels awkward to execute. Still, it's a shame cos the sweep-kick is so characteristic of savate and so effective.
A chasse (cha – say) is a side-kick, delivered with the sole of the foot to a low, medium or high target. Yeah, kicking your opponent in the head is always impressive, but step out with your right foot and deliver a chasse with your left to the back of an opponent's calf and instant dead leg. Voila!
Despite the fact that the modern sport of Savate Boxe Francaise does now incorporate traditional English-style boxing, its foot-fencing aspect remains dominant: one of the savateurs' favourite kicks - a revers frontale - involves knocking down an opponent's gloves. Get his hand out of the way and he can't protect his face. And this is what it looks like in action:-
The guy in his underwear who looks like Charlie Chaplin in this 1899 photo is Charles Charlemont. His anti-clockwise revers frontale is going to smash through his opponent's left-hand guard. And look at Charlie's his own hands. This is signature savate: one arm held out and curved upwards for balance, the other protecting the chest and mid-section. Practical, functional and so damn elegant. By the way, they dropped the long underwear, but competitive savatuers now wear rather fetching full-length lycra unitards.
They look like a pair of French poofs, I hear you say?
Have a look at this lot:-
The first one's for Dennis
This one's just a wee taster.
So why do I like savate? It's a great combination of the elegant and the completely scrappy – a real product of its roots. And I like that it got those two almost diametrically opposed sources: the contained grace of fencing and the full-on Marseilles street-brawling. It's bouncy, almost like dancing. It's a great cardo-vascular work-out. And it's a bloody effective self-defence tool.
I did Savate for five years. I trained, amongst others, with the guy leaping into the air below – Salem Assli, who originally played football, of all things. I didn't compete but I sparred and still have my ring licence. I did my shoulder in while training don't do it any more, but I dunno: it still just presses my buttons. And I hope it presses yours.
Here's a variety of links:-
This is footage from the 2007 European Assault championships in Belgium. 'Assault' denotes an emphasis is on form, technique and accuracy
'Combat' savate is, as the name implies, the ring sport. You can have a look at the 2007 World Combat Savate championships here:-
In this one, the foot-fencing aspect is really distinctive, eh?
This shows both assault and combat savate – just to prove it can be lethal, despite the spandex and the bouncing around, check out the guy writhing on the ground:)
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p.s. Hey. I consider myself a class-A Francophile, and yet I'd never heard of Savate before the class-A writer and d.l. Jax jetted this post into my mailbox. Maybe you knew better, or you will at least once Jax gets through with you. Enjoy, explore, etc., and talk back as you see fit to your guest-host if you will. Thanks a million, Jax. Let's see ... I'll remind you that our three-day writers workshop session featuring the stylings of Nick Brook aka 'Stupid Slapped Puppies' starts tomorrow, so please gear up and begin setting quality thinking time aside for that occasion please. Other than a raised fist in celebration of the judgement re: the Prop 8 trial yesterday, I'm sans much interest this morning, but I guess I'm good to go. ** David Ehrenstein, Fist bump on the Prop 8 decision, and on to to the next hurdle, I guess. ** Pilgarlic, I've never been to Japan, but it couldn't beckon more. 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That said, last year's NB was a bit disappointing and modest due to budget cuts occasioned by the big French economic crisis, and that may be true this year as well, I don't know. Still, even scaled down, it was a totally fun thing. And, if I'm here, and I do my best to be here for Nuit Blanche, I'd be happy to go around with you since I know how the event works and how best to circumvent the huge lines there can be to get into the more popular spectacles. ** JoeM, Oh, I meant scat as in Ella Fitzgerald. You haven't had sex until you've had it with a partner who can scat-moan. ** Dandysweets, Hey, dandy one. Yeah, pretty nice news, right? It's just the first step, but still. How are you? What's new? Fill me in if you have a minute. ** Steevee, So, I'm guessing they haven't edited 'EtV' or you would have mentioned it. Wow, all the stuff that would need to be edited out of 'EtV' happens in a Love Hotel, come to think of it. What a coincidence. 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Yeah, I've been in non-stop work mode for a little too long maybe. Cutting the blog from the squad for a few days might be just the ticket. We'll see. Tell me how the doctor visit goes today. You haven't mentioned your ears that much lately, so I've been assuming you're on the mend. Nice report and wrap up on 'Edie'. No, I don't know what that '13 Most Beautiful Songs ... ' thing is. I'll look into it. I read about that Araki/geek thing. Not that I really care one way or the other, but I thought his defense was pretty evasive. My day was hardly anything. Worked and/or tried to work on the novel mostly. Really, that was most of the day. I smoked occasionally and drank green tea and ate a cookie and fielded a few phone calls while I was doing that. I was going to go to a big anti-Sarkozy protest, but it started raining really hard, so I decided to be there in spirit instead. I looked around the internet a fair amount. Mostly literary stuff. I spent some time reading the latest anti-Tao Lin comments on various sites and blogs, and I thought as I always do that the haters' arguments were dumb and embarrassing. I watched for the Prop 8 decision. Etc. Yury came home from work. He couldn't find these Bose headphones he just bought a week ago, and he thinks the people who cleaned our room yesterday stole them, and I think they're just hiding in the mess here somewhere, but there was no convincing him, so I'm going to see if I can find them today. Blah blah. Really, it wasn't an eventful day. Maybe today will be more interesting. How about your today? ** Trees, Hey, man. Wow, cool, your stuff is up, and I can read it even. I will, but I need to finish this thing off first. Everyone, d.l. 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I was wondering if I might get lucky enough to pull you in here with that post. Damn, and you're right down the street from some of them. How's stuff happening for you down there otherwise? You sound clear as a bell. And, yeah, if you decide to muffle your roar in the love hotel fashion, I'd cream or something to see the room that contained it. Love to you, man. ** Misanthrope, Well, it is indeed a very good thing you're writing my biography, you Kitty Kelley wannabe. Birthday on Tuesday? Wow, I think I can remember that. Tuesday, twos-day, got it. I don't even know what a 401 K is. Pathetic, no? I know what 420 is. Wait, you're saying the media is cruel? No, no way! What about the poor guy in that band whose name I can't remember whose mouth got pooped into by a pigeon onstage? You'd think he'd pooped into the pigeon's mouth instead the way the media tore him a new one. I hope some progress gets made re: your mom today. This is getting worrying. ** Bollo, First thing I'm going to do if I ever go to Tokyo is check into the weirdest love hotel I can find. Well, I guess the first thing I'll do will be grab the least weird prostitute I can find. Scratch the 'least weird', actually. Your yesterday was no better than mine. That's comforting. ** Jax, First, all hail you for the wonderful blog-sitting job you've pulled off today. Thank you, pal. Don't know about the taking the drug forever thing. I'll ask Yury. Best guess is forever would be optimal. But he'll know. He's a demon for research about stuff like that. Short-circuiting how? Oh, you mean via the UK office? Enjoy today. You earned it. ** Shit, I'm really late with this again. Please think and see what Jax prescribes for you today. Dude knows his stuff. I'll go work on my novel and whatever else until tomorrow. Later.
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