Skip to main content

"Be a good flâneur." Paris, September 27, 2015

I became wonderfully immersed in John Baxter's books this past summer when I traveled to Ashland, Oregon for the Shakespeare Festival. At first, I was looking for good historical anecdotes about Paris and, of course, food suggestions. But once I finished reading, The Most Beautiful Walk in the World, I knew I needed more. Turns out there was plenty more to find - including a very interesting non-Paris title: Carnal Knowledge. That particular title has other (ahem) interesting and educational information in it.


Baxter is an Australian expat, now married to a French woman. He writes about the food, history and culture of Paris from a unique perspective and is incredibly funny.

I thought of the old joke about the American girl, just back from Paris, 
praising her French lover’s expertise.
“Where else would you find a man who licks your navel?” she asks.
“Why is that so great?” her friend says. “My boyfriend does that all the time.”

Her companion raises an eyebrow. “From the inside?”

from Five Nights in Paris: After Dark in the City of Light by John Baxter    

Mr. Baxter specializes in the literary history of Paris, too...and in his books I read about his love for the various neighborhoods of Paris and their literary past. He also wrote about how he started leading tours of his own neighborhood, Montparnasse. 

“With wide clean streets, Parisians began to walk, and to walk for the pleasures of it. They even coined a word for this diversion. It’s called flânerie, and someone who does it is a flâneur….Their promenade exists for itself, irrespective of destination. It may involve little or no movement. One might simply remain in one place – a café, for instance – and watch  what goes by.”

from The Most Beautiful Walk in the World by John Baxter

I took a chance and emailed him to see if he was still doing the tours and if I could T and myself could join one. He was completely charming and we arranged to meet near the statue of Honoré de Balzac by Rodin.


The walk was very informative and Mr. Baxter was endlessly entertaining. His obvious love of architecture and the 

He talked about Haussmann style buildings - which I was familiar with, but what I didn't know was that the boulevard is as wide as the buildings are high. This creates a pleasing symmetry to the eye. To add to the stylistic look, the balconies are always on the second and fifth floors. People have modified the houses by now, of course, and thank goodness - there used to be only one bathroom per floor and hordes of bed bugs running rampant from room to room. George Orwell wrote that, "I had no more trouble with the bugs. Mario had told me of a sure remedy for them, namely pepper, strewed thick over the bedclothes. It made me sneeze, but the bugs all hated it, and emigrated to other rooms."

Gross.





Mr. Baxter took us down Rue Delambre and quipped that the writers had "disproportionate representation" because artists and sculptors don't write. He told us about café culture and we passed by some of the most famous ones: La Rotonde (which was the Spanish cafe), Le Dôme Café (where the Americans hung out), and The Select - the one café per neighborhood that was licensed to stay open twenty-four hours a day. Those patrons who worked "off hours" would have a place to get a meal or some coffee. It turns out that working men weren't the only ones hanging out there, so did working women. Folks could pick up a copy of The Pink Guide. This provided all the information one might need about the local prostitutes and what each of them specialized in.



We continued our structured wander around the neighborhood, looking at unique architecture and historical alleys. Mr. Baxter pointed out some of the original stones and signs of a much older Paris. 








Our little troupe paused at La Coupole for some refreshments. The place is an homage to Art Deco, with a beautiful mosaic floor. We were there too early for the lunch rush, but I could easily imagine the place full of customers...especially ones like Man Ray and Picasso. 



We continued our stroll and saw more Art Deco adornments. Balconies and gates, all gave off a sense of history, but also look remarkably fresh and modern. More examples of beautiful symmetry. 






Then we arrived at the Luxembourg Gardens. Mr. Baxter has the privilege of having this park almost right outside his front door. He described how the flowers are changed out with the seasons - but it is done overnight, so it appears to happen as if by magic. He pointed out the garden is designed to provide pleasing views from almost every conceivable angle.








John Baxter's apartment is on the top floor of a building near Place de l'Odéon. We round up (by twos) in the tiny elevator and were grateful for it, frankly. It was such fun to see a real apartment in one of these buildings. The extreme amount of books and our furry little co-host made us (or at least me) feel right at home. 





Mr. Baxter made us a light lunch of the French Holy Trinity: bread, cheese and wine. He also included some extra sacred elements: salad, meats and sparkling water.



T and I made our way, now slightly tipsy on lunch wine, to the Catacombs next. Perhaps it was a good idea that we had had a few so we could face what we were about to see. We descended a claustrophobic passageway to the first chamber, which contains carvings of a fortress by a prisoner who was held here.







Then it was time to enter the catacombs themselves. We had to go through the entrance marked, "Stop! This is Death's Empire," which should have prepared us. Beginning in 1785, overflowing cemeteries were moved in what had been an empty quarry. Over the next eighty years, bones were sorted and stacked inside. There are designs and monuments and each corner brings some other gruesome - yet respectful - scene. 










Comments

Popular posts from this blog

And More Moscow, August 2019

.   The entrance to the restroom.   Pelmeni!

Jill Will Go To Ethiopia

January 9, 2013 Arriving in a city under cover of darkness is always fascinating. The city is planning a surprise party. I arrived in Tehran at night, or rather, the very early morning, to barely glimpse a city that looked abandoned. Quiet, peaceful. I arrived last night in Addis Ababa at nearly midnight to find a city still well populated. Merchants closing down shops, taxi drivers parked and gossiping, people everywhere. I can see nothing of the city beyond the hotel's front door - I keep thinking that when I will wake up, when the sun comes up, I will get to see where I am. What I can do now is hear it. The night is full of dogs barking, horns honking, life. The morning will bring with it not only a view of the city, but birds singing, construction beginning, and loud lobby music piped into the hotel. A different kind of life. At the airport an employee strikes up a conversation with me, asking me where I am from, what do I do? I tell him, American. His face lights up, the

More Moscow, August 2019

.             I've never had bloodier, more painful blisters. JC walked my ass off....but then he let me borrow his shoes until I could buy new ones. The girl at the store laughed when she saw my three pairs of socks and man shoes. And then I had NEW shoes - well worth every ruble.              .