Laron, Jana, and Gordon in front of this most famous sidewalk café
Ernest Hemingway, F. Scott and Zelda, Cole Porter, James Joyce, Albert Camus, Jean-Paul Sartre, and Simone de Beauvoir once frequented this place, but we did not see any of them. I'll bet Gil Pender would have found them all! *Of all the entries in this entire blog, # 28 is far and away the most important.
Charlie Masenas and the Robinsons.
The routine of the morning and breakfast with the Robinsons went well. I agree with those who stress the importance of breakfast, which is especially beneficial on days of travel. Later, we gathered in the lecture room where Jenny gave us a fascinating history lesson prior to our visit to the Latin Quarter. One of the main things she emphasized was the importance of the University of Paris as a center of student and intellectual life that drew people from all over the world.
The oldest, largest, most prestigious university in France is the Sorbonne (or University of Paris), which was founded by Robert de Sorbon and (Saint) Louis IX in 1257. Its motto then and now is Hic et Ubique in Terrarum, Here and Everywhere on Earth. It was eventually located on the left bank of the Seine, where its main campus remains to this day. The Sorbonne closed during the Reign of Terror in 1793 but was reopened by Education Minister Jules Ferry in 1879.
The growth of this center of learning made the Left Bank (Rive Gauche) home for centuries to students and scholars who wanted to study and live cheaply. Artists, writers, and medical students, especially from the English-speaking world, flocked here in the 19th century, and after World War I, Paris stood out as a place of legendary tolerance, intellectual freedom, and the absence of Prohibition, which cramped people's style back in America in the 1920's.
Writers and artists gravitated to this less-expensive, university area, particularly in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. My own interest in this section of Paris started with a TV broadcast in the late 50's. Sunday afternoons, my dad and I had a habit of watching You Are There with Walter Cronkite. One week, the title of the episode was "Paris in the Twenties." Dad seemed to know a great deal about this and was very enthusiastic, so I listened and watched as writers and artists were interviewed or described and shown on the screen. Ernest Hemingway's familiar form popped up repeatedly.
"Gordie" Smith grew up in Dallas and graduated from Bryan Adams High School in the middle of the 1920's. He had received a superb high-school education and could help me with algebra and recite big chunks of Gray's "Elegy...," The Rubaiyat, and "Thanatopsis," for example. He mentored my mother into the accomplished book reviewer she would become, and much of my interest in literature and things beyond the mundane comes from them.
"Gordie" Smith grew up in Dallas and graduated from Bryan Adams High School in the middle of the 1920's. He had received a superb high-school education and could help me with algebra and recite big chunks of Gray's "Elegy...," The Rubaiyat, and "Thanatopsis," for example. He mentored my mother into the accomplished book reviewer she would become, and much of my interest in literature and things beyond the mundane comes from them.
Dad had been a student at SMU in the late twenties; his varsity sweater still reads
"Colts 1927." That's also the same year my parents' "dream home" on Denton St. was built for Ernest and Camille Cunningham. This my parents would acquire in 1953. Dad's interest in and enthusiasm for the era when he came of age in Dallas seemed boundless. He was in love with the time of his youth, and for me that proved contagious. I suppose I am no less in love with my own '60s; the two decades had many things in common.
"Colts 1927." That's also the same year my parents' "dream home" on Denton St. was built for Ernest and Camille Cunningham. This my parents would acquire in 1953. Dad's interest in and enthusiasm for the era when he came of age in Dallas seemed boundless. He was in love with the time of his youth, and for me that proved contagious. I suppose I am no less in love with my own '60s; the two decades had many things in common.
Wedding and silver-anniversary portraits of Gordon and Mary Katharine Smith
(I've mentioned my parents twice now in the blog, so here they are.)
Speaking of Hemingway, I recognized him during You Are There because he was still alive and had often appeared in newsreels at the State Theater. Every year, he would go to the Festival of Fermin in Pamplona, Spain, and just as often, film footage of those trips, which always included the Running of the Bulls, would be shown in local theaters. No other writer attracted news coverage as he did. He was a major personality, and his adventures and travels captivated us.
I have read most of Hemingway's books and remain an admirer. I even shared his interest in bull fighting. I believe that Ernest Hemingway made foreign cultures accessible in the English language better than any other author. In For Whom the Bell Tolls, he rendered Spanish-language syntax in English. He spoke the languages of Italy, France, and Spain, and he respected and appreciated their cultures. That impressed the locals, who often seemed very fond of "Papa."
The Luxembourg Garden is the heart of the Left Bank.
The green belt by Notre Dame in the upper left corner shows the line made by the Seine. Coming into Paris by boat from the Channel, one would look left to see this part of the city, hence Left Bank. Starting across from Notre Dame, we would walk in a U pattern, straight by the Sorbonne with observatory visible, to St. Etienne and the Pantheon, across the Luxembourg Garden, back down Rue de Fleurus, by St. Suplice, and then to the Seine for a boat ride.
So today, we were headed back to the Rive Gauche and the old haunt of Hemingway, F. Scott and Zelda, William Faulkner, T. S. Eliot, Pablo Picasso, Cole Porter, and Salvador Dali. Earlier in the year, I had watched and loved Woody Allen's Midnight in Paris, and much like Gil Pender in the movie, I, too was taken with Paris in the Twenties and the haven it provided for one of world's most gifted generations!Coming of age in the twenties seemed to suit my father and his sister, Gwen, and her husband Al.
Those three had a wit, humor, and sophistication about them that never went away. They had strong sense of style. A classmate's father, Dr. R. L. Kennedy, had that same quality, and he, a native of Gainesville, spent the 1920's in Chicago. Their sophistication and humor did not necessarily abound in those who grew up in the hard, bitter years of the Depression or in the tense, threatening years of World War II.
Though the Twenties were undoubtedly an exciting, liberated time, they were marred in the U. S. by the folly of Prohibition. It is no wonder that veterans of WW I who had experienced France firsthand would want to stay there, or come back later. How could we "keep 'em down on the farm after they'd seen Paree"? Why would brave soldiers who'd risked their lives in war put up with restrictions back home on drinking? No such rules existed in France! They returned home to "the land of the free" and fewer freedoms than they'd had abroad.Also, Paris was inexpensive in the twenties, and the tolerant social attitudes of Parisians and their love for and appreciation of artists would have really suited creative young spirits and provided a milieu for them that was missing at home. So in the era of the Charleston, Vo-Do-De-O-Do, and Josephine Baker's "La Conga Bligoti," Paris became once more the world's undisputed center of art, literature, fashion, and culture.
After Jenny's lecture at the Patio St. Antoine, we gathered to go on a tour of the Quartier Latin that would last all day and end with a boat ride that night. The weather looked good as we exited our hotel and headed across to Rue Claude Tillier.
Over to Fleurry-Diderot Station, and we caught the Metro for the Hotel de Ville on Line 1. Soon the train arrived in front of the City Hall, and we started our walk across the bridge to the Ile da la Cité. The sun was shining, and walking suited us fine.
We arrive at Hôtel de Ville Station.
We emerge in front of City Hall.
Back across the Seine (This morning we went OVER these bridges; tonight we'd go Under them.)
Across the last bridge, we were again in front of Shakespeare & Co. and the Wallace Fountain in front of it. Here Jenny proceeded to tell us about both the book store and the artistic iron fountain that stood in front. She explained the prominence of the store in the twenties and then went farther back in time to explain the iron fountain painted green that stood nearby."Wallace Fountains" were a gift to the city from Englishman Sir Richard Wallace in the 1870's. Wealthy from a inherited fortune, Wallace lived in Paris during the Paris Commune and the siege and fighting that accompanied it. Those events led to the destruction of many of the aqueducts that brought fresh water to the city. So clean, clear water grew scarce, and the people of Paris had to buy what water there was from vendors. Sir Richard helped solve the problem by paying for the creation and installation of artistic, iron fountains which were put all around the city to provide clean, free water for its citizens. These fountains are still flowing, are well maintained, and are much appreciated by everyone--especially the homeless.
Jenny explains that Wallace Fountains provide free, fresh water for the taking.
(Who's the guy in the beret by the window at the back?)
Next, we waved good-bye to the banks of the Seine and headed up Boulevard Saint-Michel to
the interior of the Left Bank. The morning sunlight showed Notre Dame to good advantage, so some of us shot pictures of it before we turned and headed away.
Au revoir, Notre Dame, till we see you from the river tonight.
Off the beaten path from Boulevard
Saint-Michel, Jenny took us through a chapel near Eglise Saint-Séverin.
Next, we went over and into Saint-Séverin itself which is the oldest
church on the Left Bank. It's named for a devout hermit from
the fifth century.
What interested me about Saint-Séverin Church were the modern
stained-glass windows in the rear of the altar, its beautiful twisting
columns, and a window showing the portrait of architect Charles
Garnier. He attended this church, and the members must have been very
proud to have the designer of the Paris Opera House among them. They
thought enough of him to include his image as a lasting part of their church!
Eglise Saint-Séverin
These wonderful columns set St. Séverin apart.
Charles Garnier is the one with long, brown hair to the left.
Next, we went to the Cluny Museum of Medieval Art. Cluny is a major stop for medievalists, but it was closed today, so we contented ourselves with examining the exterior and the gardens. I shot a few pics of its compost pile bordered by woven sticks and took the Robinsons in front of the raised beds. They took my picture in front of Montaigne's statue. He's a major early French writer whose works I read in my first French literature course. William Holden and Grace Kelly discussed Montaigne in a scene from The Country Girl.
The Cluny Museum
I enlarge these images to show details of the walls. Woven sticks form fences and borders.
In the Middle Ages, stone walls were often built on top of old Roman walls.
In the Middle Ages, stone walls were often built on top of old Roman walls.
Here's some medieval texture and juxtaposition behind the Cluny.
Regardez le compost!
What cute veggies!
Michel de Montainge--Creator of the Essay
Hoping some of Montaigne's wisdom rubs off
(Smith's quick translation of Montainge's tribute--"Paris has held my heart from my childhood. This great city--especially great and incomparable in variety. The glory of France and one of the world's noblest ornaments." I had read some of Montaine's Essais during the fall of my junior year at UT. Survey of French Literature was the first of several courses conducted entirely in French, and the young, enthusiastic professor was Dr. Jane Neustein, one of my all-time favorites!
After we left the Cluny Museum, we entered the area of the Sorbonne. For several blocks, we were surrounded by the buildings of this famous university. Here was the famous chapel that marked the entrance and the main building. Here generations of the French elite had been educated. Here Pierre and Marie Curie had taught and had done their research that led to the isolation of radium, the discovery of radiation, and the development of X-Rays.
Here Laron's and my own French teacher, Miss Martha Liddell, had studied French during the summer of 1961. Martha left her math-teaching job in Bartlesville, Oklahoma, to return to GHS to take over the Latin and French classes from Robin West. The summer institute in Paris was on a National Science Foundation fellowship. This is something I felt keenly as I walked the same streets she had walked and described to us as I listened in teenage awe at GHS. At the beginning of our sophomore year, we had even made do with a substitute teacher that first week in French II, because Miss Liddell had been delayed on her return by Hurricane Carla.
We enter the Sorbonne area.
Laron contemplates. (Or maybe he's looking for Martha Liddell.)
Chapel of the Sorbonne
Au revoir aux environs de la Sorbonne
The Sorbonne, according to Jenny, had changed after the student riots during the "merry month of May" in 1968 and was later broken up into thirteen specialized divisions called "FACS." These divisions were under four "Grandes Ecoles." The Faculté de Droit (Law School) was in this neighborhood, and we would find it later and take Laron's picture in front.
Next, we walked by an elegant-looking hotel called the Grand Hotel Saint-Michel, and it looked so good that I had to take a picture. Surely, this was a wonderful place to stay in the Latin Quarter, but it did look expensive.
Grand Hôtel Saint-Michel
Then we approached the church Johanna had admired so much and visited last week while Paul and I waited. This was St. Etienne-du-Mont near the Panthéon. This time, however, I better realized its importance and paid closer attention. What Jenny did next assured that!
She brought us to a narrow, winding street that ran uphill and turned at a corner by the church, where a side door and steps came down to the sidewalk. Suddenly, she announced that this street was the one where the Peugeot came uphill and approached Owen Wilson as he sat on those steps and the clock struck twelve in Midnight in Paris!
Owen Wilson as Gil Pender--MY SOUL BROTHER!
Just as suddenly, I saw she was right, though the film gave no hint that a church was nearby. There was indeed a clock tower jutting above the church! When I realized this, I almost jumped for joy, and one thing led to another as our group watched with amusement while Laron shot a picture of me sitting on those very steps. I loved the way Jenny had connected what we were seeing with a wonderful, recent American movie.
Near the Pantheon, we came to the Church of Saint-Etienne-du-Mont. Jenny Burdon made this visit very memorable.
St. Etienne-du-Mont--Notice the clock tower; it's the one that struck twelve in "Midnight in Paris"!
(That's the back of Charlie's hat.)
The Peugeot came up this street. Notice Jana Robinson in the left corner. My enthusiasm spilleth over, and the group is amused.
Gil Pender (Owen Wilson) was sitting here when people in the car called to him!
(Laron took the pic; merci beaucoup M. Robinson!)
This was a major moment, and Jenny Burdon made it possible!
Then we went inside Eglise St. Etienne du Mont, which was very beautiful. There was the stonework "screen" which Johanna had mentioned that was once a customary barrier between lay people and clergy, and the tombs of Jean Racine and Blaise Pascal were there, too.
I was surprised to notice another Reliquary of Ste. Genviève here. This ornate box looked different from the one at Notre Dame, and this was apparently her permanent resting place. Before the Revolution, the custom had been to carry her remains from here to Notre Dame in a procession once a year. Apparently, there were reliquaries for her in both places. I suppose she was returned to St. Etienne later each year, because that's where she remained most of the time.
Unfortunately, St. Genviève's remains were dumped out and burned by an anti-religious mob during the French Revolution. The boxes survived, but her remains are no longer in them. It's surprising that the beautiful reliquaries survived, but people must have had sense enough to save some things of value. We had seen evidence of destruction during the Revolution all over France; the amount of vandalism during the upheaval that followed the Ancien Régime was huge.
Movie-related experiences aside, the interior of St. Etienne is ornate and lovely, and this second visit to the area gave me another opportunity to see it. Jenny took us right inside and quickly showed us around. I was very happy to see what I had passed up last week--the delicate stonework of one of the most beautiful and significant churches in Paris.
Interior of Saint-Etienne du-Mont
This church was breathtaking!
This "screen" once separated audience up front from clergy in the rear.
"Permanent" Reliquary of Ste. Genviève
Instead of going to the Pantheon, our guides decided this was a good time for a lunch break, so we walked east of St. Etienne several blocks to an area with plenty of small restaurants to choose from. The Robinsons and I found a place we liked and settled in for déjeuner. It was good, but we finished before our hour was up, so we started walking farther down this fascinating little street filled with shops of every kind. Soon, we were in front of a record store, so we went in to look around. I found a DVD of Jules et Jim and decided to buy it. It was a movie from the early 60's that I had missed seeing--even when it was at the Texas Theater in Austin.
Laron, Jana, and I left the shop and walked to our rendez-vous with the rest of the group. Soon, we were off again, but on our way to the Pantheon, Jenny stopped to show us the place where Ernest Hemingway lived back in the twenties. I was delighted! I had just reread A Moveble Feast, and this suited me perfectly! Here was the very building he and Hadley lived in, on the very street they walked on every day. They were living here when their son Jack ("Mr. Bumby") was born.
Hemingway wrote that most mornings, a man regularly marched his dairy goats by here single-file, and a lady in a neighboring apartment would take a pot downstairs to meet him. He would milk a goat into the pot right there on the street, and then she'd carry her container of fresh goat's milk back upstairs to drink and cook with.
He also wrote that he and Hadley would walk the reverse of our route and go to the Ile de la Cité where men were pole fishing on the Seine. There they'd buy fish that the fishermen caught and bring them home to cook. He reported that the fish were inexpensive, of high quality, and tasted very good.
Hemingway lived here.
74 Rue du Cardinal Lemoine
Ernest relaxes at the apartment in 1922.
Smith's plaque translations: From January of 1922 to August of 1923, the American writer lived on the third floor (it was really the fourth) in this apartment building with his wife Hadley.
The neighborhood that he loved above all was the vertiable birthplace of his work and the spare style that characterizes it. This American in Paris maintained close relationships with his neighbors, notably with the owner of adjoining music club.
"Such was the Paris of our youth, at the time when we were very poor and very happy."
Gratuitous Smith comment--By the time Ernest Hemingway finally did receive the Nobel Prize for Literature in the early 50's, he had already earned it many times over!
Then we walked over to the Pantheon. Of course, this was my second visit in a week, so I shot fewer pictures and focused on different things--like the tombs of Voltaire and Rousseu and the paintings in the lobby. Jenny did a fine job of lecturing and explaining the different areas, since most of us had never been here before.
I had read Candide by Voltaire and Les Rêveries d'un Promeneur Solitaire (Thoughts of a Solitary Walker) by Jean-Jacques Rousseu when I was at UT and admired them both. I especially liked Rousseau's simple prose style and his love of nature . He practically invented The Romantic Age. Like most stops in this "Independent Tour," this one was informative but brief, because of the many places that we wanted to see today.
Lobby of the Pantheon
Then Jenny took us downstairs to the crypts where France's luminaries lay. This time, I'll limit coverage to Voltaire and Rousseau, who are among the French writers I admire most.
Corridor among the tombs below the Paris Pantheon
Poet, historian, philosopher--he enlarged the human spirit and taught that we must be free.
On the other side of Voltaire's sarcophagus, it says,"He fought against atheists and fanatics. He inspired tolerance. He replaced the servitude of feudalism with the rights of man."
Front of the tomb of Rousseau
"Here rests the man of nature and of truth."
Finally, we went back upstairs, and as we walked through the lobby, I shot photos of the pictures of Attila, whom Ste. Genviève is credited with warding off from Paris, and of the execution of St. Denis in Monmartre--at a place we would visit later. Jenny called everyone's attention to these.
Attila the Hun decides to avoid Paris.
(Thanks for your prayers, Ste. Genviève!)
The Martyrdom of St. Denis
We walked out on the front porch, and the view of the Eiffel Tower impressed me again, and I shot a photo of that, the exterior on this clear day, of Laron and Jana in front of a fountain, and finally of Laron in front of the Sorbonne's School of Law.
Of all things, in front of the Pantheon we got into a debate about the translation of la patrie. Of course, I said, "Fatherland." Those who've had Latin know it is derived from pater for father. Where was Johanna when I needed her?
C'est à propos pour un avocat américain accompli et extraordinaire, n'est-ce pas?
Now at last, we headed to the Luxembourg Garden. I had been here last Thursday with Paul and Johanna, but this time I WAS DELIGHTED TO SEE CHILDREN WITH SAILBOATS! The pond was surrounded by families with their children floating the colorful boats. They were pushing them out onto the water with long sticks just for this purpose. As often as I'd seen films showing this activity, it was splendid to see it in person!
The Luxembourg Fountain
Children and their boats--what a wonderful custom!
Our group is across the pond. Jana and Laron are facing toward Thomas and Jenny.
Au revoir aux enfants et leurs petits bateaux du Jardin du Luxembourg
(I LOVED EVERY MINUTE OF THIS!)
Before moving on, I include a few pics of the grounds and of the Palace. People were sitting around this meeting place of the French Senate and enjoying the weather and the grounds thoroughly.
This may not be pretty, but tradition must be upheld! This was the third time in my life I'd been here, and on every occasion, a picture has been taken of me next to a French compost pile. Such is my passion (and theirs) for organic gardening!
Le Palais du Luxembourg
Jenny now led us away but back in the direction of the Seine down the Rue de Fleurus. Soon we were next to the building where Gertrude Stein's apartment had been in the 1920's and long before.
Here in her two-story quarters with adjacent studio she had influenced the tastes of the world in her strong advocacy of modern art. Here she held her weekly, Saturday-night gatherings in the twentieth century's most famous "salon." Pablo Picasso and Ernest Hemingway were frequent guests.
Gertrude Stein's residence--27 Rue de Fleurus
Picasso's portrait of Gertrude Stein
(She gave a lecture at the Hockaday School in 1934.)
Well, I certainly told the Robinsons what we were seeing and paused to take a few pictures of something that was very meaningful to the French. Here was one of the most popular poems in the French language carefully rendered on a famous wall that displayed the words of Rimbaud, in all their clarity, and not a trace of graffiti was to be seen anywhere. The Parisians took good care of this wall. Arthur Rimbaud wrote the poem when he was only seventeen years old!
Wall art--Arthur Rimbaud's entire poem "Le Bateau Ivre" is reproduced here.
Past the Rimbeau Wall a few blocks and ever closer to the Seine, we came upon a beautiful square facing a large church, the second-largest in Paris. It looked familiar because we'd seen a model of it yesterday in the lobby of the architecture museum. It was Eglise St. Suplice facing la Place St. Suplice. I remembered it was a Left Bank landmark and that Hemingway had mentioned it, but I had no idea we'd see it today.
As we paused to admire the beautiful open square on a fine afternoon, Jenny pointed to a building on the opposite side of the park from the church. Much to my amazement, she said the top-floor apartment with the large glass windows belonged to Catherine Deneuve! I could hardly believe I was looking at Catherine's residence the next day after I'd watched Indochine on TV. A longtime admirer, I fondly remembered Les Parapluies de Cherbourg and Benjamin. Naturally, I took a few pictures.
La Place St. Suplice
Catherine Deneuve's residence!
The Fountain of the Four Bishops
The façade of St. Suplice is open-air.
We gaze up before entering.
Now, Jenny led us up the steps to go inside the church. She cautioned that mass was going on and we should refrain from pictures, but Charlie shot several without flash, so I do have some to include. Jenny also said this was a "Guadaloupean Mass." It was especially meant for Parisians from the French island of Guadaloupe in the Caribbean. Jenny was amazingly au courant to know this ahead of time and to be showing it to us now!
I was surprised and pleased at the prospect of seeing such an unusual service. I knew that Guadaloupe and Martinique were officially "part of France," but I had no idea that such a large contingent from the Caribbean actually resided here.
St. Suplice--l'intérieur
After we left the church, we walked over to an area of bistros and restaurants and food markets for a brief interlude before we went down to the river. The Robinsons, Charlie, and I shot pictures in front of the famous Deux Magots, a mecca for artists and writers for most of the twentieth century. Then we made our way through food stalls and shops, and I think we had a bite to eat.
Street musicians entertain as we walk through Saint-Germain-des-Prés.
Hemingway, we are here!
Abbey of Saint-Germain-des-Prés
Gordon and Laron confer in left corner, and Jana looks at the Abbey as Jenny (red beret) explains.
(She probably mentioned that most of the Abbey was destroyed during the Revolution.)
In this clean, swanky butcher's shop, even the counter and the meat cutter were works of art!
We pass single-file under a café awning. I wonder who the guy is with the beret in front of Laron.
Lovely Left-Bank street scene as darkness falls
Ever since we left St. Suplice, we had been getting closer to the Seine in Saint-Germain-des-Prés. This entire area was once a village by that name, and it has been the haunt of French intellectuals since the 1600's. Two extremely famous sidewalk cafés here are the Café de Flore and Les Deux Magots. I remembered that when Ben and I had ridden our tour bus by Lex Deux Magots in 2012, the guide said absolutely nothing! So I jumped up and started yelling, "Les Deux Magots (lay-duh mah-go), Les Deux Magots, look! It's the most famous sidewalk café in the world!" This tour was not ignoring it.
Les Deux Magots, and this area generally, were a well-known gathering spot for artists and writers, and I was delighted to be there. We spent time walking the neighborhood before we made our way down to the Seine and the evening boat ride that awaited us.
Since our next event du jour was a boat ride on the Seine, we all walked down to the quai (dock)
to board our bateau-mouche. As those who've been following the blog know, this was my second ride on the river, because last Wednesday, Survey of France had ended with a wonderful dinner cruise. Independent Paris was a more pared-down tour, so our trip tonight would be sightseeing only, minus food.
That did not bother me. I was grateful to be able to ride up and down the Seine one more time, and now I could concentrate on photographing sights along the way. I think Jenny went home before the boat ride, and Thomas conducted the boat tour. Who could blame her after the day she'd put in?!
The boat would take us down the river (towards the Channel), and we would stay near the right side of the Seine throughout. Then we would turn around just beyond Ile St. Louis and head back up the river (towards its source) and on the opposite side. Each half of the journey offered its own proximities and perspectives.
Charles Masenas shared his photos with me when we were back in the States, and I just now counted his river pictures and mine. He took fifty; I took forty-four! Since this blog entry already has over one hundred photographs, I realize the need to rein things in.
Charlie and I both experienced problems focusing. This was at night, we were on a large, waving river, and the boat was constantly moving forward at a pretty fast clip. So, I am going to use our best shots and let the pictures speak for themselves.
Thomas Randall takes us on a boat ride through Paris
L'Académie Française (France's institution for control of its language and literature)
Musée d'Orsay
The National Assembly (France's House of Representatives.)
The Czar Alexander Bridge
River Views of the Eiffel Tower
Before the bridge
After the bridge
I really like this one.
(My camera showed the tower with a yellow glow; Charlie's showed it with an amber glow.)
Au revoir à la Tour Eiffel
The Grand Palais is an exhibition hall built in 1900.
Ferris wheel in the Tuileries Garden
The Louvre
Notre Dame
Although this picture is out of focus, it shows the turn the boat took after we passed Ile St. Louis.
This is the place where the Ile St. Louis ends and the Ile de la Cité begins.
Notre Dame and the Ile da la Cité from the Right Bank
Looking back to a bridge in the wake of the boat.
The Conciergerie
We approach our last bridge.
Now we crossed the river and landed at the dock. It had been quite a day!
When our own bateau mouche returned to the dock at the end of the cruise, we disembarked, and Thomas led us to the nearest metro station. Then we took the subway back to Faubourg Saint Antoine. After this day of touring, none of us would have any trouble sleeping! For me, the sense of satisfaction at having been where I'd been and seen what I'd seen was palpable.
Fin
Hors d'Oeuvres:
1. As I look at my blog entry right now in "edit" mode, the paragraphs are left-justified, but after I look at it at it in "Publish" mode, many are not left-justified, and as often as I go back to edit and select the paragraphs and make them left-justified, they still do not appear that way as finished products. Probably my highly computer-literate middle son and I can solve this in good time, but for now THE WORDS ARE STILL THERE. They're just arranged funny. I notice that even this paragraph is an example of the problem it describes!
2. While I was at UT, some of my French professors had an interest in a ciné-roman called l'Année Dernière à Marienbad (Last Year at Marienbad) by Alain Robbe-Grillet. I bought the book at Garner and Smith on the Drag, and I still remember using a letter opener to cut through the pages. Later, I went to a screening of the companion movie at the Catholic Student Union (Newman Center) across from the Littlefield Fountain. A line that keeps recurring is "What happened last year at Marienbad?" Everyone seemed to have experienced the same things but had different memories of them.
My telling of what happened last year in France has to come from me and express my own vision of what took place. Yet compadres who were there often photographed other things than I did and remember different things than I do, or remember them differently. I think that just goes with the territory of writing a memoir. We each have our own perspectives on the past, but that should not prevent our trying to preserve it.
3. Cole Porter was playing the piano and singing "Let's Do It" when Gil walked into the room in Midnight in Paris. One of the lines is "Lithuanians and Letts do it." Pretty sophisticated stuff for 1928 or even now. How many people knew that a "Lett" was a native of Latvia? By the way, Midnight in Paris received the Oscar in 2012 for Best Original Screenplay.
4. Along with many others, Laron Robinson and I took French I and II at GHS when we were freshmen and sophomores (from 1960-1962). Robin West taught us the first year, and after she left, Miss Liddell took over. We used the E. B. de Sauzé text, and some copies were still in the book room when I started teaching the subject at mid-term in 1972. Here they are.
5. I mentioned Martha Liddell in describing the Sorbonne, and truth to say, I wrote a tribute to her on Facebook after I returned home. Having actually visited the Sorbonne and its environs, I felt closer to her on this day than almost any other. I learned all I could absorb of four foreign languages from her while I was at GHS, and I read several novels she was very familiar with. I'd mention something in Ivanhoe, and she'd start quoting lines, e.g., Pax vobiscum, Wamba's password.
Once, I solved a geometry problem for Rex Wagoner that few others in the class had figured out, and knowing she used to teach math, I went to her room and BEGAN TO STATE THE PROBLEM;
before I'd finished, she stated the rest of the problem and rattled off the solution--just like that! She said, "I used to use that question when I taught geometry." This--from my French and Latin teacher!
Last November, I was filled with gratitude for this brilliant, learned, eccentric teacher, so I bought flowers and went to Fairview Cemetery, found her and her sister's graves, and left them there.
Merci pour tous, Martha! Je ne vous oublierai jamais, et je vous aime encore. Reposez-vous bien.
