Day Five: Bells

After 39 years, the writer revisits Paris 

to explore memories and discover whether

for him there is still there

 7 July 2017 - vendredi

Thinking it odd to visit Paris without going to a museum, I plan to go to Napoleon’s tomb at Hotel d’Invalides. But, French President Emmanuel Macron calls for a state funeral at Invalides for recently deceased Simone Veil and the following week would be the July 14 celebration of the French Revolution. With events crowding me, I search Lonely Planet for an alternative and discover  Musee National du Moyen Age:  “Sublime treasures … span medieval statuary, stained glass and objets d’art to its celebrated series of tapestries, The Lady with the Unicorn. Evocatively housed in an ornate 15^th-century mansion (the Hotel de Cluny) and the much older frigidarium (cold room) of an enormous Roman-era bathhouse, this is one of Paris’ top small museums.” The venue looks likely to satisfy my fascination for objets predating by hundreds of years the founding of my own country.

Deciding to brave the Metro, I step out of my hotel and am astounded to see --so close at the end of the block! -- the Metro stop for Porte de Clignancourt where in no time a sleek modern car transports me to the Latin Quarter. I exit at Saint-Michel (5e) and stroll down the boulevard of the same name where ancient limestone buildings glow like pale sunlight.

An iron gate leads into a medieval garden cast in shade by sky-climbing flora, where a man is slumped on a bench. The main entrance is around the corner and, being early, I go alone through the white security tent where friendly agents, an older man and young woman, search my backpack and wand me. I cross the courtyard, pay the eight-euro fee and obtain earphones as audio guide.

The 45-foot high frigidarium houses, from Notre Dame de Paris, “the remnants of the Sainte-Anne Portal (circa 1145) and the twenty-one monumental heads from the gallery of the Kings of Juda (circa 1220-1230) buried during the French Revolution…” (Per museum leaflet). On one side, robed and headless figures float in V-formation, as opposite on a shelf rest a quintet of crowned heads, mutely testifying to the violence of the Revolution, all amid the serene setting of Roman arches, brick walls and light from on high.

This is exciting, and then something really rings my bell. The Pillar of the Nautes represents the most ancient stonework discovered in Paris. Commissioned by a league of boatmen as tribute to Tiberius around 14-37 A.D, it originally depicted eight gods and goddesses. Two images struggle to reveal themselves, their robed shoulders and heads outlined in the stone, specific facial features obscured by time. I gaze into the stone, trying to fill in the lines, much like looking into a mirror in search of my younger self.

The nautes serve as link to Paris’ improbable motto: Fluctuat nec mergitur that translates into “She is tossed by the waves, but does not sink;” and to seashell figures on façade of the building (once inner walls of the bathhouse), and to the river Seine connecting with the ocean.     

Unable to detail everything at the museum, I must mention the six tapestries of La Dame a la Licorne. Commissioned in the 1500’s by the LaViste family, each tapestry illustrates the lady and unicorn and one of the five senses (e.g. musical instrument corresponds to hearing). The sixth tapestry is interpreted to depict love and understanding. Prominent in each is the family crest consisting of white crescents on blue band against red background. Themes and artistry surround me, seated on a bench in the middle of a darkened room.

After a peak experience barely halfway through my trip, I eat a fruit salad (pineapple featured) at a nearby brasserie. Passersby are of a younger demographic, many probably students. Then looking for a bus, I catch one that takes me across the river to Place de la Nation, a huge circle in eastern Paris (11e). A connecting bus drops me two long blocks from my hotel. It’s still warm, though not oppressive, and with heavy feet I reach my hotel about 1500.

I discover the AC and try to unwind, aware that this is my last night in the neighborhood; tomorrow, I take the train to Strasbourg for three days. Always antsy the night before travel, I’m torn between returning to The Pizzeria at Place Joffrin to see what Friday night looks like, and staying in to rest and pack. “I had a good day and should leave well enough alone,” part of me says. For hours the argument goes on and my body –as if held hostage—twists this way and that on the comfy bed. I doze, wake and doze again, rising only to turn off the AC. Finally, I come out of my slumber around midnight and realize the issue is resolved. I read and drink chilled water from the mini-fridge. “Il y a assez de temps pour boire du vin et visiter des cafes et brassieries.”

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 Next post in about two weeks.