Paperbacks in Paris, part II

Upon returning to the US, I've been sleeping an abnormal amount in order to recover from jet lag (and also because it's so nice to sleep in a real bed that is not in a hostel). That's why this blog entry is dated so late . . . but I want to make sure I document my memories before they disappear!

A lot of my worries throughout my trip were due to a lack of structure. I think that I'm so used to having a tight schedule that so much freedom is a little scary. Nevertheless, not having a concrete itinerary was definitely a growing experience.

It also led me to a few reckless indulgences, such as the divine hot chocolate that I enjoyed for the incredibly low price of 8.5 euros! It was at a famous place called Angelina's, just across the Seine from the Louvre. You're probably wondering why anyone would pay so much for a hot chocolate. It was easily the best hot chocolate I've ever had -- it tasted like the inside of a chocolate lava cake, but in drink form. It's so popular that I had to wait over thirty minutes just to get into the doors of the establishment. It was totally worth it.

I was planning on going to the Louvre that day; I had visited the famous museum very briefly during a high school trip, but I didn't have a lot of time to appreciate it. I'm also mostly positive that I had a panic attack in the Mona Lisa room during that visit, but I digress. Visiting the Louvre is a compulsory activity when you go to Paris, right?

And that's exactly why I didn't want to do it. Why should I spend my limited time in one of the most beautiful, culturally rich cities in the world doing something that I felt was obligatory? There wasn't even anything specific that I wanted to see. Of course, I didn't realize any of this until I had already waited in the massive entry line for about forty minutes.

I decided to go to the Musée d'Orsay instead, and I'm glad I did. While almost as popular as the Louvre, the d'Orsay is much smaller and much less overwhelming, and I found the exhibits to be more interesting. I spent a lot of time in the Van Gogh rooms and discovered a new passion for the paintings of Edgar Degas.

My new favorite Van Gogh painting, Starry Night Over the Rhone.

After spending a few hours at the d'Orsay, I went back to one of my new favorite spots for a late afternoon pick-me-up.

You already know.

I got dinner and drinks with a new friend that I met at the hostel. He was from San Francisco but went to school at Cornell, and we liked a lot of the same music! At this point in our respective solo trips, we were both in need of a little English conversation. We even went to see the Eiffel Tower at night -- neither of us knew that there is a sparkling light show for the first five minutes after midnight. It's an entirely different monument at night.

The next day, I made sure to stop by the favorite haunts of some great writers. I took a long walk to Hemingway's old apartment in the 5th arrondissement. I ate at the Restaurant Polidor, which Hemingway frequented, and also where the protagonist in Midnight in Paris first meets the writer in the movie. I peeked at La Closerie des Lilas, a beautiful restaurant established in the late 19th century, which was frequented by Baudelaire, Fitzgerald, Hemingway, and other great minds (although the restaurant no longer caters to the budget needs of a penniless traveler).

I also made a stop at the Père Lachaise cemetery, which is arguably the most famous cemetery in the world and the largest one in Paris. Mourners and tourists alike flock to the hilly, shaded gathering of burial plots that spans over 110 acres. My time was limited, so I saw the two graves that I most wanted to see: Oscar Wilde, a wild (!) Irish writer who raised a lot of hell in his time, and Frédéric Chopin, composer and pianist. (Op. 72, no. 1 in E minor is one of my favorites.) I planted a kiss on Wilde's grave, which was marked with hundreds of colored lipstick stains. There's a funny story about how I was escorted out of the cemetery by some rather grumpy Parisian security guards, but I won't detail it here.

Throughout my trip, a strange phenomenon kept occurring: I would often think of what I needed or wanted to see (a metro station, Notre Dame, etc.), and it often popped up like a version of the Room of Requirement from Harry Potter. I accidentally stumbled upon a lot of great areas of the city. One of my favorite instances of this was when I thought to myself, I'd like to see the Luxembourg Gardens while I'm here. Sure enough, less than a minute later, I was standing in front of the main gate of the Luxembourg Gardens. I felt like I had entered a faerie dreamland of golden, sunlit copses of trees and carefully planted red and pink flowers. I even stumbled into a lovely outdoor concert from a local symphony orchestra.

While all of my literary sightseeing made me happy, my time in Paris was drawing to a close, so I knew I needed to visit another monster destination. My project took me to the hauntingly beautiful Notre Dame Cathedral, which is (unfortunately but rightfully) a top tourist destination. The Gothic architecture of the cathedral is beyond words; I only wish I could experience it without hoards of summer tourists shoving each other and trying to take pictures of the mass service.

Nevertheless, there was some academic interest that compelled me to visit the cathedral; Hugo's novel Notre-Dame de Paris (what we know as The Hunchback of Notre Dame) is largely credited with prompting the Gothic restoration of the cathedral in the wake of the destruction of the Revolution. Interestingly, the architect favored by Hugo, Eugène Viollet-le-Duc, is the same famed architect who unexpectedly lost a blind contest to Charles Garnier for the design of the Palais Garnier, a.k.a. the home of the Phantom! And we've come a full circle . . .

A recent discovery of some historical documents dating around the time of the cathedral's restoration (1820s) provides us with a compelling potential origin story for one of Hugo's most famous characters: Quasimodo, or the Hunchback of Notre Dame himself. Young sculptor Henry Sibson's journal entries make several references to a reclusive man he called Monsieur le Bossu, or "The Hunchback." To condense this interesting story for blogging purposes . . . it is entirely possible that Hugo visited the cathedral during construction and encountered M. le Bossu, who was a sculptor along with Sibson at the cathedral; they even both lived in Saint-Germain-des-Prés. The man's real last name was allegedly M. Trajan. This is especially interesting because, in an early draft of Les Miserables, Hugo named his protagonist Jean Trejean instead of Jean Valjean. Did Hugo take a great deal of inspiration from his visits to Notre Dame? We can't be sure, but the links in this story were too interesting for me not to do a little investigating.

Aside from touring the main cathedral, I also opted to tour the towers. After waiting several hours in the heat wave that (much to my chagrin) finally returned to France, I climbed countless stairs in narrow spiraling staircases to the very top of Notre Dame. Here I viewed the stonework, the famous gargoyles, and even the belfry tower. It was beautiful, humbling, and also interesting to see the handiwork of our possible real-life Quasimodo.

Spotted in the midst of hundreds of signatures . . .

On my last full night in Paris, I met up with a fellow English major friend from W&J, Katie Campbell! After scrambling to find a decent (and decently-priced) restaurant in Saint-Germain-des-Pres, Katie and I found a nice little restaurant where we shared stories of our travels. We both got a glass of wine to celebrate July 4th from across the ocean (although I would have been a little more proud to be an American if the Obamas were still in the White House). It was wonderful to see Katie, and we witnessed the most beautiful sunset over the Seine, gelato in hand. Vive la France.

The next day, I spent a lot of time in Montmartre; I took a walking tour of the town, which blissfully avoided most of the tourist traps in favor of the smaller and more authentic-feeling side streets frequented by locals. The narrow cobblestone streets were lined with bakeries, small markets, and tiny cafés, but this was also the creative hub of some very famous artists. I was able to see the home and studio of Pablo Picasso, the apartment of Vincent Van Gogh, a cabaret frequented by Picasso -- it was amazing to walk the very same streets as these influential young men once did. I even saw the famous Moulin Rouge (which I had admittedly seen the night before in order to get the full effect of the neon lights), a cabaret that inspired a delightful and tragic movie of the same name. I'm glad I made some time to explore Montmartre more thoroughly; it was a brief period of respite from the lights and noise of Paris.

By this point in my trip, I was suffering from acute traveler's fatigue (read: I'm exhausted every day of my life), so I gathered together a picnic for one and found a shady spot in my favorite stretch of the Luxembourg Gardens. I took a blissful nap and later headed to the airport, thereby concluding my time in Paris and, by extension, my Magellan project.

I'm already nostalgic for my favorite metro station . . .

Paperbacks in Paris

Paris has proven itself to be quite a magical place. When I arrived, the skies were grey and it was raining. It has been such a blissful change from the humidity and heat of Geneva, although I’m yet again stuck without proper clothing. It’s impossible to pack for three different potential climates in one tiny carry-on piece of luggage. No worries, friends; I bought myself a nice French cardigan to protect me from the elements.

When I arrive in a new location, I’m always terribly anxious to figure out a new system of public transportation. I think I’m afraid that I’ll be mystified and get lost. However, the Paris metro system is so easy and efficient! I love it so much. I think I could ride around on it for fun. I’m definitely not going to pretend to be an expert (we know where that got me last time!), but it’s fun to pretend to be one of those Parisians who are always in a rush and who navigate the twisting tunnels like they know exactly where to go. They probably do. I don’t. But I always end up where I need to be eventually.

I was pretty tired when I finally found my hostel in the Montmartre area in the late afternoon, so I thought I’d do something easy that required minimal exploration effort: the Eiffel Tower! I think I just wanted something to make me realize that I was actually in Paris. It definitely made for some excellent people-watching; I love seeing families and couples from around the world get caught up in the allure of Paris. I just sat on a bridge overlooking the tower and the Seine for a while, got a crêpe and a coffee, and soaked it all in. I guest tourist traps shouldn’t be overlooked just because they’re tourist traps, right?

On my first full day, I wanted to explore the city a little and do some things that I can only really do by myself. After all, who would ever want to go to the Grand Musee du Parfum (Big Perfume Museum) with me? I’ll be the first to admit that this had nothing to do with my project, but it was cool. The exhibit showed perfume’s qualities throughout history, from a sacred offering to the gods to a medicinal panacea to a potion for seduction. There were even sections about the science of smell and the manufacturing of perfumes. Neat!

After that, I walked along the Champs Élysées for a while; I forgot that the Arc de Triomphe was so close, so I saw that by accident! I also planned to go to the Petit Palais, a museum in the same area, because I had read online that there was an exhibit about one of my favorite poets, William Blake. A Blake exhibit with original illustrated poems? I would have been in heaven. However, just as I was walking up to the museum, I got a funny feeling in the pit of my stomach. With a little quick research, I discovered that the William Blake exhibit had only been a temporary one in the summer of 2009. Why do I miss all of the cool exhibitions?

In my state of mild dejection that was only furthered by the fact that it started pouring when I had forgotten my umbrella, I returned to the Montmartre area for a little while to recenter myself. I grabbed my umbrella, a sweater, and stopped for a nice latte at the lovely coffee shop next door. It just takes a rainy day, a sweater, and a hot drink to lift my spirits.

I took that evening to explore Montmartre. It used to be the perfect artists’ hub -- a lot of starving talent moved into Montmartre because of the rising rates of rent closer to the heart of Paris. Wealthy people lived at the base of the hill, while the artists and less wealthy lived at the top of the hill, or the “butte.” The winding stone streets are interesting to explore, especially at night, although the area is more filled with tourists and scammers than artists these days. I plan to explore more soon so that I can see the windmill made famous by a Picasso painting, stop by the Moulin Rouge, and get a closer look at Sacré-Coeur.

The next day was probably my favorite in Paris so far. I spent most of my time in Saint-Germain-des-Prés, an area close to the heart of the city. The area is home to a few spots that I needed to experience: two of those spots include the small cafés Les Deux Magots and the Café de Flore. They are competing cafes that are situated directly across the street from one another, and they were both hubs of activity during the existentialist movement. Simone de Beauvoir and Jean Paul-Sartre used to spend hours every day at the Cafe de Flore. I learned about de Beauvoir in an awesome Philosophy and Gender class in the spring, and she’s been one of my feminist icons ever since, so I knew I needed to visit one of her favorite hangouts.

However, Les Deux Magots was closer to where I exited the metro, so I went there first. Hemingway and Picasso are just a couple of the famous talents that used to visit this cafe. I took a seat facing the rainy, Parisian-filled street, ordered a coffee and a pastry, and almost cried real tears. Like I said before, places have meaning for me! I’ve gone back a few times since, and I’ve never been disappointed. I think that rainy days are meant to be spent deep in contemplation at small coffee shops and cafés.

Saint-Germain-des-Prés is one of my favorite areas to explore in all of Paris. While the main avenue is lined with high-end shops, there are countless little nooks and curving streets that are worth exploring. I made sure to visit the apartment of Victor Hugo, author of novels like Les Miserables and Notre Dame de Paris (or The Hunchback of Notre Dame). It was interesting to walk through Hugo’s lavish apartment filled with interesting objects that pertained to his life, such as a couple of worn writing desks. I totally touched them when the guard wasn’t looking.

Victor Hugo touched this desk!

One of my favorite new spots in the world is located in the very heart of the city, just down the street from Notre Dame. Shakespeare and Company is probably the closest thing to heaven on this earth. It’s a bookstore and reading nook and a mecca for book lovers from all over the world. The original store was frequented by (you guessed it) Hemingway, Fitzgerald, and countless other famous literary figures. Founder Sylvia Beach was even the first to publish Joyce’s controversial Ulysses when no one else dared.

Now the store, in a new location, is filled with tiny nooks with thousands of books, comfortable couches, and atmospheric lighting. There’s even a sweet cat who lives there -- her name is Aggie because she wandered into the shop one night and was found in the Agatha Christie mystery section, and she hasn’t left since. When I chose a book of poetry and found a nice chair, Aggie took it upon herself to jump onto my lap (on top of my book, naturally) and take a nap. That was the second time of the day that I almost cried real tears. I want to take her home with me!

My new best feline friend Aggie!

Believe it or not, I did actually do something related to my project: I toured the Palais Garnier, or the Paris Opera House. I’ve always loved the Phantom of the Opera, so I couldn’t miss the opportunity to visit the location that inspired the story. The author of the original novel Le Fantome de L’Opéra, Gaston Leroux, toured the opera house and discovered that there were channels of water beneath the structure. He combined this fact with the tales of a “ghost” beneath the opera house to create his novel.

The Palais Garnier was absolutely breathtaking! Everything was so ornate and lavish. The guided tour that I took was specifically geared to the "mysteries" of the opera house, so I was ready for some Phantom lore. 

I learned something really funny: the musical isn't at all popular in France, and a lot French people scorn its popularity and dismiss it as a silly part of American culture. (I'm not trying to generalize; my French tour guide told us this!) Nevertheless, the Phantom clearly has his hold on the opera house, as there is a plaque bearing his name on the door of Box no. 5. (And by this, I mean that management reluctantly added the plaque a few years ago to appease the flood of tourists.) On my tour, it was clear that many tourists knew of the opera house mostly because of its prevalence in the Phantom musical and movie. Maybe one day I'll come back to Paris (with a little more cash) and buy a seat in Box no. 5 to see the latest ballet...

There is much to explore and so little time! Paris is an incredible city with countless secrets to discover.