Wednesday, July 13, 2012
Paris, France

Bonjour!
I went from the sublime (yesterday, Exhibition on Artimesia Gentileschi) to the ridiculous (visit to the Catacombs of Paris). And yes, it turned out to be third time lucky; for today, after trying for three days in succession to get in, I finally managed to traverse the Catacombs of Paris.

Annoyingly, some inconsiderate oaf (garbage collector?) shouting outside my window woke me up at 6.00 am. Unable to get back to sleep, I tossed for awhile, gave up the fight and began captioning my photos online. A call from my friend, Jacques from Normandy, confirmed that he and his wife Florence will indeed be visiting me here soon. I am very excited to see them again. After a quick yogurt and Jordan’s cereal breakfast, I was out of my apartment at 9. 15 and at Denfert-Rochereau Metro station at 9. 30 am.

Queuing for the Catacombs:
Despite the fact that I arrived at the Catacombs a full half hour before they could open, I was 25th in the queue! Fortunately, it wasn’t raining, but it was freezing and my hoodie did little to keep me snug. I began to wish I had thrown on my rain jacket as well. The line grew like Jack’s beanstalk and within the half hour at least 300 people were in it by the time the doors opened at 10 am. I was given a reduced price ticket of 6 euros (being a professor). Normal entry fee is 8 euros.

The Geological History of Paris:
A trip to the Catacombs starts with a descent down 133 spiral  stone steps that go underground to a depth of 20 meters. Going by the initial exhibits that you see on the wall when you arrive at the landing, you’d think the most interesting thing about the excursion is the formation of  Parisian limestone deposits underneath–and not the gigantic ossuary which is what every visitor actually goes to see. There was loads of information on the manner in which the sea flooded the city of Paris in the hoary past. When it retreated, it created layers of soft porous rock known as limestone. It was from this stone that the entire Cathedral of Notre Dame and Baron Haussman’s Belle Epoque Paris was constructed.

Quarries that Became an Ossuary:
Indeed, for thousands of years, since the very Roman occupation of France (when France was known as Gaul and Paris was known as Lutece), people quarried underground for limestone in Paris. Large slabs were hacked out of the ground and transported to the top where they were used for construction. Hence, the tunnels through which we walked to get to the ossuary (and they went on for almost a mile) were dug hundreds of years ago–until the limestone quarries were no longer in use.

In the late 1700s, when it was felt that the graveyards of all the churches of the city should be dug up and their remains exhumed and moved, for sanitary reasons, to another place, the transportation of bones began. The limestone quarries that no longer served a purpose were thought to be the best place to deposit the bones. The process started in 1780 and went on till 1860.Nothing was haphazard. The placement of every single bone is carefully documented with stone plaques revealing which churchyard they were dug from. I discovered that the body’s two longest bones (the femurs–or thigh bones) and the skull are the ones that last indefinitely. And it is these that dominate the collection.

At the entrance is a sign in French that says: “Arrete, c’est ici l’empire de la Mort” (Halt, This is the realm of Death). Because documentation was such a big deal, the bones are neatly stacked around stone plaques indicating the Parisian church graveyard from which they were removed. The stacks are so high that some were taller than I am. A foot of femurs (pun unintended!) was usually punctuated by a row of skulls. In most cases, the lower half of the skull (the mandible) has disintegrated so that only the cranium remains. Occasionally, the stackers got creative and devised fancy patterns for the arrangements of bones–you see hearts of skulls or arches and sometimes, there are skulls and crossbones–as in Pirates flags. I heard a fellow visitor in an American accent say: “Well, these guys would do well working in supermarkets today. They sure knew how to stack”.

When the quarries were no longer used as an ossuary, i.e. after 1860, it was thought necessary to map out the miles and miles of subterranean pathways, so that modern markings clearly indicate under which Parisian landmark or milestone the tunnel sits. This obsession with organization is almost Roman in its precision.

Towards the end of our tour, there were stone altars set against the walls and a vast number of quotes from French poetry and literature delineating the inevitability of death and the triumph of mortality carved on stone slabs. Although it was dark in the tunnels and we were prohibited from using the flash on our cameras, there were enough electric lights to prevent the space from feeling creepy or spooky. Instead, one felt a deep sense of reverence for the 8 million Parisians of past centuries whose remains lie below.

Although none of the bones can be personally identfied, we can be certain that the remains of some well-known Parisians are in the Catacombs. The writer Francois Rabelais and the painter Simon Vouet (who, coincidentally, actually formed a close friendship with Artimesia Gentileschi whose work I saw in the Musee Maillol yesterday) are among them. And during the French Revolution, several notables were buried directly in the quarries after being guillotined. Among them are: Danton and Robespierre, Madame Elizabeth (sister of King Louis XVI) and the scientist-chemist Antoine Laurent-Lavoisier.

I have to say that this was one of the most interesting experiences I have had in Paris so far. I do not believe that such a receptacle for human remains exists anywhere else in the world and this is what makes it so unique. I understand also that the place has been turned into a venue of tourist interest only very recently. For decades, it remained so isolated that during the Nazi Occupation of Paris, members of the Resistance met in secret in these tunnels.

It took me exactly an hour and a quarter to complete my examination of the catacombs after stopping frequently to take pictures, read the explanation on the walls and the signage. At the exit, an attendant checked my bag. When I expressed surprize, she lifted a small sheet and showed me the skulls that had been ‘shoplifted’ from below by tourists looking for a souvenir! Talk about human perversion! Needless to say, there were no bones in my bag! When I resurfaced, after climbing 88 steps, I was not far from the Mouton Duvernet metro station–which means that I had walked the distance between two whole metro stops while underground–that was a whole lot of walking!

Off to Gare Montparnasse:
It was my intention to use the rest of the day traveling on the train to Chartres, in order to see the Gothic cathedral there. So I hopped into the metro and arrived at Gare Montparnasse where I joined the line at the Information and Ticket counter to book my SNCF ticket. It was only when I found out that the next train was a whole hour later plus that the return would cost me 30 euros, that I decided that the excursion was much too pricey. There were so many places I could continue to explore for the first time in the city without having to travel about100 kms away.

So I decided to get home, pick up my guide book and do a walking tour of the Latin Quarter. Just then I passed by a Starbucks and since I had to run an errand for my friend Ian in New Jersey (he collects Starbucks destination mugs and wanted one from Paris), I decided to go inside, buy the mug, get myself a mocha frappucino and use the free wifi. And that was exactly what I did while giving my feet a rest. An hour later, I was on the metro heading home. And wouldn’t you know it? As soon as I got home, I lay down on my bed and fell fast asleep. When I awoke, it was 4.00 pm and after such a blissful rest, I was ready to go out again and encounter the Latin Quarter.

Loitering Through the Latin Quarter:
Paris’ Latin Quarter is so-called because in centuries past, when the Sorbonne–the Parisian University–was founded in the 12th century (contemporaneous with Oxford and Cambridge in England), the population spoke Latin (the language of the learned). They lived in the area in little garrets and poured over their parchment all day!

Today, the area is a lively mix of narrow streets crammed with ethnic eateries (Little Athens, right in the heart of the maze offers Greek food, for instance), ancient churches (the beautiful little Greek Orthodox Church of St. Julian The Poor and the grand Flamboyant Gothic style Church of St. Severin are neighbors), distinguished University buildings (the main building of The Sorbonne and the College of France are both here decorated with superb sculpture on their facades), museums (The Cluny Museum–now known as the Museum of the Middle Ages– is here in a spectacular old mansion which I shall visit tomorrow), and book stores by the dozen (from the famous Shakespeare and Co, that literary landmark from the time of Hemingway and F. Scott Fitzgerald and Gertrude Stein is here as are modern French bookstores like Gibert Jeune).

In the course of my walk, I entered one of the side doors of the Sorbonne and was informed that guided tours leave from the main entrance. I visited the Church of St. Julian The Poor as well as the Church of St. Severin and they were both awesome although completely different.The latter has an impressive three-tiered Gothic structure and wonderful stained glass windows. I spent a while lingering in Shakespeare and Co, to absorb the atmosphere of a place made famous in literary history by its famed patrons. Upstairs, there was a reading on by the American writer Debra Spark which I peeked into for just a few minutes. The life of the bookstore continues to remain vigorous almost a whole century after its renowned patrons left Paris forever. I longed to partake of a fondue meal in one of the restaurants in Little Athens that offered Cuisine Savoyarde (Fondue and Raclette) but, of course, being alone, this is one thing I cannot do. I consoled myself with the thought that it was too early for dinner anyway!

When I got home, I put the kettle on for a cuppa of Laduree tea and cake from Marks and Spencer before jumping into the shower. My feet were grateful that I spent the rest of the evening in bed with my PC writing a new blog post, editing and captioning my photos.

The Latin Quarter is just charmingly old-fashioned enough to make me want to go back for more. Tomorrow after my NEH session, I shall return to see the Musee Cluny and, in due course, I shall take the brilliant literary walking tour outlined by Lonely Planet.

A demain!