By Louisa McDonald

Nana, an aspiring actress turned prostitute, sits opposite a philosopher in a café. The two discuss, with a striking intellectual sensitivity, the nature of language and thought. The philosopher claims that one cannot live without language, because talking equals thinking and thinking equals talking, and there is no life without thought. Nana, on the other hand, takes the opposite view, and affirms that she would prefer to live in silence. According to Nana, ‘Plus on parle, plus les mots ne veulent rien dire’ (‘the more we talk, the less our words mean’).

Nana in conversation with the philosopher.

The scene between Nana and the philosopher in Jean-Luc Godard’s 1962 film Vivre Sa Vie may be, as Susan Sontag put it, “The most elaborate, intellectually”[1] of the film, yet the theme of emphasising action over language is a motif throughout. The film follows the gradual downfall of Nana Klein, a young woman who leaves her husband and family with aspirations of becoming an actress, eventually finds herself drawn into prostitution, and, in a shocking final twist, ends up being shot and killed in a street battle caused by the actions of Raoul, her pimp. On the surface, it may seem as if Nana’s attempt to lead an independent life ultimately fails her; yet despite Nana’s tragic ending, I would argue that she should still be understood as successfully asserting her autonomy through the life that she comes to lead. Furthermore, the way in which she does this is ultimately divorced from the textual element of the film and is expressed instead through Nana’s actions, which are more closely linked to the visual element of the film.

To begin with, it is worth pointing out that the film is not intended as a moralising tale; through the way we come to understand Nana’s character, we are inclined neither to judge nor to especially pity her, but rather to simply observe what happens in her life. As Sontag points out, nothing in Vivre Sa Vie is explained in depth: it just happens[2]. We do not really know what lies behind the final gun battle in the street in which Nana is killed. We do not even have a comprehensive explanation as to why Nana becomes a prostitute, other than that she was unable to borrow 2000 francs, which, in ordinary circumstances, would hardly suffice as a reason. Moreover, the way in which Nana’s life is narrated – in twelve episodes each preceded by a written intertitle – suggests a narrative form in which the episodes of Nana’s life are merely presented to us, without necessarily needing to be explained. As Sontag puts it, “Vivre Sa Vie is an exhibit, a demonstration. It shows that something happened, not why it happened”[3].

The idea of things just happening, of life passing by and Nana affirming herself in it, are most clearly conveyed through the visual aspects of the film. For example, in Episode VIII, Godard uses montage to portray Nana’s initiation into prostitution as we are presented with images of a dozen clients. This is accompanied by a voice explaining the various hazards of Nana’s future vocation; a voice which, ultimately, comes to be ignored as Nana ends up succumbing to such dangers. In this case, we can see the visual element of the film as divorced from the textual element: the image comes to represent Nana’s experience, whereas the text fades into the background as advice which is later ignored. Another instance of this can be found in Episode XII, where Nana is in conversation with her young lover; their loving, playful conversation is not heard but rather projected onto the screen in the form of subtitles, thus making it seem somewhat less than real. Indeed, shortly after this episode, Nana ends up dying in the gun battle, and so the future promises exchanged with her lover turn out to have little significance.

In the scene with the philosopher, even the more banal aspects of the conversation reflect this divorce between text and image, which ultimately comes to represent the divide between words and action. Early on in the scene, the philosopher asks Nana:
‘Vous avez lu Les Trois Mousquetaires ?’ (‘Have you read The Three Muskateers?’), to which she replies: ‘Non, mais j’ai vu le film’ (‘No, but I have seen the film’). In a microcosmic sense, this trivial exchange reflects the difference between Nana and the philosopher: whilst one is focused on texts, the other is focused on images, on action. We see this importance of cinematic images to Nana’s life earlier when she watches a scene from the 1928 film La Passion de Jeanne d'Arc (The Passion of Joan of Arc) and finds herself moved to tears; furthermore, it is perhaps significant that this is a silent film and thus a piece of media with a focus on images rather than words.

It is through action that Nana affirms herself; although her life as a prostitute is clearly not ideal and ultimately leads to her tragic downfall, we still see her embody an admirable level of autonomy in her vocation. At the beginning of the film, Godard quotes Montaigne: “Lend yourself to others; give yourself to yourself”. Prostitution in the film can perhaps therefore be understood as a radical metaphor for lending oneself to others whilst still remaining true to oneself; Nana seemingly embodies this quote from Montaigne and transforms it from words into action. In a conversation in with fellow prostitute Yvette, Nana employs a lexis of physicality to describe the radical freedom and responsibility that comes with being an autonomous agent: “Je crois qu’on est toujours responsable de ce qu’on fait et libre. Je lève la main; je suis responsable. Je tourne la tête à droite, je suis responsable.” (‘I think that we are always responsible for what we do, and free. If I raise my hand, I am responsible. If I turn my head to the right, I am responsible.’) Whether or not Nana’s life is a happy or enviable one is beside the point; Godard portrays her as a case study in the responsibility and autonomy that arises as an inevitable consequence of freedom.

As a final point, the title of the film should not be overlooked. ‘Vivre Sa Vie’ has been translated into English in various ways: first as ‘It’s my Life’, then as ‘My Life to Live’. Whichever way it is translated, the title suggests an imperative to live one’s own life and to be autonomous; in other words, to affirm oneself. It does not contain any sense of judgement or explanation; life, according to the film, is something which does not need to be explained, but just happens, and the only thing to do is to live it with a degree of independent self-assurance that matches our radical freedom.