L'amour et la mort

I stayed with a delightful SERVAS host in France.


Corinne and her cat, Zorro

Corinne is close to my age and in a state of transition, as well, having decided to stop working as a translator and go back to school. Her apartment is painted in bright oranges and yellows, she has a delicate and lovely French giggle (the kind I thought only existed in movies), she’s a tango dancer, and best of all, she’s just begun to fall in love.
Her boyfriend is dignified, interesting and intelligent like her. It always makes me happy to see two beautiful people get together: a reminder that sometimes, love really is the best thing going.

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Corinne speaks excellent English, which was good because my French is the opposite! (It’s all those red-herring consonants, plus the fact I haven’t studied the language since high school.) Being out and about,  trying to communicate, at one point I was so mixed up that I responded to a stranger’s question with “Ne parle anglais” [a French/Italian mix to say ‘I don’t speak English’]!

Luckily the sights I visited didn’t require a mastery of French. To learn more about Jewish history in Paris and see some paintings by Chagall (attempt number deux), I visited the Jewish Museum. For some reason a LOT less crowded than the Louvre. It was like a ghost town. Literally: the museum used to be an apartment building, home to mostly Jewish residents, many of whom had been forced into concentration camps. In the beautiful words of the museum guide, describing them before their departures: “their lives were just like everybody else’s...and absolutely unique.”

Other people who have passed on are honoured at the famous Cimetière du Père Lachaise, in the 20th arrondissement [neighbourhood].

There’s the famous tomb of Oscar Wilde, festooned with kisses; the grave of Jim Morrison, decorated with empty beer bottles and flowers; the great Frédéric Chopin’s tomb; and the rather interesting resting place of one Victor Noire. If you look at the picture you’ll see a certain part of his um, anatomy that looks like it’s received more attention than the rest. If you are a woman who wants a baby, the story goes, rubbing that is supposed to do the trick! [Supposedly pictures of newborn babies are sometimes found in the hat beside him...]

Chopin

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Speaking of anatomy, I encountered a whole lot of that at the Musée Rodin (The Kiss and The Thinker are this man’s most famous sculptures).

What you might not know is that when The Thinker was unveiled in 1906, it instantly became an emblematic figure of socialism! According to the official blurb: “The concentration and the tension of this thinker, rendered universal in his nudity, constitute a compelling symbol of hope and of faith in mankind.”

Funny, sometimes seeing people naked is exactly when I lose hope in mankind.       (rim shot please!)

What I liked just as much was the gardens of the place.

Whew, that’s a lot of museums, you might be thinking! Yeah. It was. By the time I made it to the mother of all museums, the Louvre, I was absolutely exhausted. The Louvre totally kicked my butt. Of course I pilgrimaged to the Mona Lisa and the Venus de Milo (dodging other tourists left and right), but I didn’t last much longer than that. It was great and I’d love to go back for more...when I have a spare year to devote.

People taking pictures of the picture...