The duality of Canadian life has been called the "Twin Solitudes." One Canada, English and Calvinist in origin, tends to be staid, smug, and work-obsessed. The other, French and Catholic, is more creative, lighthearted, and inclined to see pleasure as the end purpose of labor. Or so go the stereotypes.
These two peoples live side by side throughout Québec and in the nine provinces of English Canada, but the blending occurs in particularly intense fashion in Québec province's largest city, Montréal. French speakers, known as Francophones, constitute 66% of the city's population, while most of the remaining population speaks English -- Anglophones. (The growing number of residents who have another primary tongue, and speak neither English nor French, are called Allophones.) Although both groups are decidedly North American, they are no more alike than Margaret Thatcher and Charles de Gaulle.
Montréal is a modern city in every regard. Its downtown bristles with skyscrapers, but many of them are playful, almost perky, with unexpected shapes and bright, uncorporate colors. The city above ground is mirrored by another below, where an entire winter can be avoided in coatless comfort. To the west and north of downtown are Anglo commercial and residential neighborhoods, centered around Westmount. To the east and north are Francophone quartiers, notably Plateau Mont-Royal and Outremont. In between are the many dialects and skin tones of the immigrant rainbow.
Over the past decade, there was an undeniable impression of decline in Montréal. A bleak mood prevailed, driven by lingering recession and uncertainty over the future. After all, it still remained possible that Québec would choose to fling itself into independence from the rest of Canada. Lately, though, passions have cooled, in part because the separatist Parti Québécois was defeated in 2003 by the federalist Liberal Party.
Something else is going on: Ripples of optimism have become waves, spreading through the province and its largest city. The Canadian dollar has been strengthening against its U.S. counterpart. Unemployment in Québec, long in double digits, shrank to under 6%, the lowest percentage in more than 2 decades, and below that of archrival Toronto. In another (perhaps connected) trend, crime in Montréal (already one of the safest cities in North America), hit a 20-year low in 2000. Favorable currency exchange and the presence of skilled workers have made the city a favored site for Hollywood film and TV production. The rash of "For Rent" and "For Sale" signs that disfigured the city in the 1990s has evaporated, replaced by a welcome shortage of store and office space and a billion-dollar building boom that's filling up vacant plots all over downtown. The beloved old hockey arena was converted to a dining and entertainment center called Forum Pepsi, and La Ronde, a popular amusement park that was experiencing a sharp decline that threatened to end in bankruptcy, was saved by its sale to the Six Flags empire. A new convention center opened in 2002. Somewhat controversial in its vividly colorful design, it nonetheless is expected to enhance the city's desirability as a meeting place.
To be sure, not every project has enjoyed smooth sailing. A plan to build a downtown baseball stadium collapsed soon after it was proposed, as did a plan for a new theme park. But those stumbles won't matter to American visitors, for whom Montréal already might seem an urban near-paradise. The subway system, called the Métro, is modern and swift. Streets are clean and safe. Montréal's best restaurants are the equal of their south-of-the-border compatriots in every way, yet they are as much as 30% to 40% cheaper. And the government gives visitors back most of the taxes it collects from them.
Québec City is less sophisticated, more conservative, and more French. With its impressive location above the St. Lawrence River and its virtually unblemished Old Town of 18th- and 19th-century houses, it even looks French. Probably 95% of its residents speak French, and far fewer are bilingual, as most Montréalers are. (In the province as a whole, about 81% of citizens are Francophone.) With that homogeneity and its status as the supposed capital of a future independent nation, citizens seem to suffer less angst over what might happen down the road. They are also aware that a critical part of their economy is based on tourism, and they are far less likely to vent the open hostility that American visitors not infrequently experience in English Canada.
