Victor Hugo's Paris

For the past two months I have been in Paris, and for the past two months I have been reading Victor Hugo's Les Miserables. It's been a literary history lesson, and one that twice has required murder mystery breaks. But aside from my brain-breaks it's been an interesting way to learn about and experience Paris in a different way. I mean, there's very little chance I would have read 58 pages on the battle of Waterloo if they weren't pages 301 to 359.

Also, since Victor Hugo lived in Paris for much of his life (1802-1885) I have visited many places that were part of his life. For instance: Notre Dame. In and of itself, the behemoth church is worth visiting. I mean, Napoleon's coronation was held there, and it's over 800 years old. But! It's also the setting for Hugo's The Hunchback of Notre Dame, a novel that called attention to the church and spurred a time of restoration. Go Victor! I visited a museum dedicated specifically to the author and located in an apartment where he lived. Nice digs, great location. I walked by the church where he was married many times.

Not only that, I visited places that appear in Les Miserables. The Jardin du Luxemborg has a recurring role in the novel and is also one of my favorite places in Paris. Funnily enough, my guide books says it's a perfect place to imagine how wealthy Parisian in the 1800's spent their leisure time. And so, I spent a few hours, book in hand, reclining by the reflecting pool. The novel also mentions specific streets and bridges that I have walked.

The cemetery Pere Lachaise is also mentioned in his book. A mother bemoans how, being poor, her son will be buried at the bottom of the hill where he will never see light again, and therefore the oppression by the rich continues even in death. Pere Lachaise is a very famous cemetery, possibly the most famous in the world, and naturally it was on my custom-made "to see" list. I visited, and indeed the cemetery covers a large hill. Of course, I feel pretty certain that, at this point, the cemetery is so exclusive that any burial plot acquired would be considered a good one. However, if it were 1833, Jim Morrison would be poor and Oscar Wilde quite nicely off given their burial positions.

On the other hand, ol' Vicor himself made out pretty well. His final resting place is the crypt at the Pantheon, which is reserved for the elite of the elite French. Score!

Hugo also stands the test of time when he writes, "Suddenly she knew the whole science of the hat, the dress, the cloak, the boot, the cuff, the material that hangs well, the becoming color, the science that makes the Parisian woman something so charming, so deep, and so dangerous. The phrase "alluring woman" was invented for her." Man, he hit the nail on the head with that one. Over 150 years later, Parisian woman are still stylish and possess a confidence in their style unseen elsewhere.

In the 980 pages I have read thus far (leaving me just under 500 to go) I have found a few lines I particularly enjoy, and since I'm a giving person I wanted to share. They are:

"Satan must have squatted for a moment in some corner of the hole Thenardier lived and studied this hideous masterpiece."

"As he was witty twice over -- first with his own wit, then with the wit that was attributed to him--"

With that, I bid adieu to Paris and bury my nose into page 981.

Oh Yeah, You Blend

In 2009 I have traveled to places where I knew I didn't blend in and would never blend in (even if I spoke the language perfectly), and other places where I blended until I opened my mouth. I thought Paris was the later of those two options. I can blend as long as I stay silent.

Apparently I was wrong. You know, like Vinny thought he could blend in, "My Cousin Vinny." Luckily he has Marisa Tomei to set him straight; I found my Marisa too. I was standing in line the other day (to visit a touristy site; just to be clear: at this point I knew I wasn't looking Parisian) and struck up a conversation with a couple. At one point the woman was talking about a friend of theirs and said, "well, she's never going to blend in here; she's blond with blue eyes." The comment slowly worked its way into my brain, and I realized that there really aren't too many blonds with blue eyes strolling the streets of Paris (at least if you're not hanging out at La Louvre, the Tour Eiffel, or other such places where tourists congregate).

I have noticed a few blue eyes staring back at me, but maybe they're just like my eyes. Those blue eyes are darting around trying to see if there are french thoughts being held in by tightly clasped lips, or if the lips are holding back another language.

There's another give-away to my lack of Parisian status: I smile.

The french are renowned for their politeness -- each of the many guide books I've read has clearly stated that using phrases like "bon jour" "merci" "au reviour" "pardon" and titles like "madame" and "monsieur" are necessary. And it's true that I hear people say, "merci monsieur, au reviour" upon leaving most stores. However, the phrase is not uttered with a smile on the lips. In fact, few phrases that are uttered for courtesy are accompanied with a smile. A french woman the other day commented to me about how friendly americans are. And she was talking about New Yorkers, who, if we're being honest are not renowened for their friendliness in the USofA. It seems like the french make a clear distinction between polite and friendly, and only one of the two is required. So everytime I say "merci" and flash a big old smile I'm giving away my un-Parisian self in two ways -- accent and grin.

C'est la vie!

Tres Chic

Paris + Style = Duh.

This week is fashion week here in Paris, I know this because today on my run I happened upon a large crowd of people dressed in black (some with heavy duty cameras), lots of mercedes (apparently the car of choice), and a sign that read "Givenchy Backstage" (this was the kicker). And so, in honor of the to-do that it constitutes fashion week I thought I would talk a bit about style here in Paris.

Let me first say a little something about this Givenchy show. When I got back from my run I was curious about this whole week-of-fashion thing that's going on in Paris now. So to satisfy my curiosity I took to the internet. And there I found that the week runs from the 30th of Sept to the 8th of Oct (which means I still have time to try and crash a show in my Havianas). I found the locations listed along side shows' respective locations (Carousel de Louvre, Musee del Homme, etc) and times (10am to 9pm). However, for the Givenchy shows it says "see invitation" for the location. I'm not sure if that's to make it more exclusive (entirely possible) or because it was held in...a school. Yes, a high school in the 17e. And while the school seems to be a nice building, and the 17e is a nice neighborhood in the inner ring of Paris, a school doesn't make the same impression as, say, Jardin de Tuileries.

Now, onto a topic I'm more familiar with than Haute Couture: kids. There are kids everywhere in Paris, in strollers, on park benches, on those razr scooters, and climbing all over the many playgrounds. And most of them have this fact in common: they are immaculately dressed. Even playing in a sand box, dirt seems to fall off their clothing and leave them pristine. It's hard to see a 6 year old that's better dressed than myself, but it's something I'm trying to get used to here in Paris.

On a more personal note, I have been trying my best to find where all the chic Parisian shops are, and then shop at them. Sadly, I haven't been very successful. I have checked numerous forms of media -- traditional guide books, magazines, internet sites, blogs -- and I've been trying to visit as many of these places as I can to hunt down some classy clothes. I've found that first hand clothing probably isn't a go for me (220 euros for a sweater?!), so I decided that classy Parisian cast offs were a good option. Well, it turns out that I was wrong on that accout. 90 euros for a used skirt? And that was on the cheap side. I found a purse that I liked in one of these cast-off purses and so I checked the price. Can you guess what it was? 960 euros.for.a.used.purse. Let me break this down for you in terms of the places I've been this year. In the US that would be $1402; in Australia that would be $1603; in China that would be Y9577; and in Tanzania that clocks in at TZS 1,834,613. Since I can't seem to shop for clothes here in Paris, I've decided to go for the second best: chocolate. Much more affordable, not as long lasting.

Two things I've noticed that contradict these observations on Parisian fashion: one the proliferation of Abercrombie and Fitch clothing. I've seen shirts proudly declaring their loyalty to the brand all around the city. And really, it may be the only brand Parisians wear that so boldy declares itself. The other thing is "I <3 NY" tee shirts. They are everywhere. Apparently they're the new hip thing to be sporting. I should probably get one; I feel like I should be able to afford that at least.