Paris

Paul Alan Prescott

Just as with a work of art, the “City of Light” must be seen in a new light if the guest is to fall in love with Paris for the first time, again. What better way to newly appreciate the work of art that is Paris than in a museum?

While the Louvre, “the museum of museums,” boasts the world’s largest collection of fine art and the Musee d’Orsay represents Impressionist heaven, the Rodin Museum is a welcome detour from the long lines and packed rooms of the better-known sites. Located in the shadow of the Eiffel Tower, the Hôtel Biron is where the sculptor stored and displayed his work. Containing such famous sculptures as “The Kiss,” “The Cathedral” and an entire room dedicated to Camille Claudel’s passionate talent, the stately home continues to offer visitors privileged insight into the fervent genius of Rodin. The grounds seem impossibly grand for inside a city, yet the well-kept gardens serve to display “The Thinker” and the ominous “Gates of Hell,” amongst other fine pieces. Take advantage of a sunny day to rub marble shoulders with the bronze and the famous, or mingle with the eternal in a garden party of stone.

For better or worse, the nearby Eiffel Tower has become synonymous with Paris, yet few Parisians can be persuaded to climb its heights. Those looking for another way to look over the city will enjoy the view from the steps in front of the Sacre Coeur. The panorama is not only as impressive as that from atop the tower, but it is free. In the warmer springtime months, the stairs are lined with locals drinking red wine, listening to drifters play battered guitars and enjoying the spectacle of a Parisian sunset.

A trip to Paris would not be complete without a visit to one of its wonders; Paris holds many hidden treasures. Behind Notre Dame, at the tip of the Île de la Cité, is buried, literally, the Memorial to France’s Deported. After descending the steps, pass through the narrow portals of stone and enter the soul of a period not far enough behind us, a time when France’s rebels and Jewish community were sent to chambers similar to the one constructed here. The Memorial to France’s Deported-more emotionally charged than the nearby cathedral and more alive than any monument- remains a necessary reminder of unnecessary evils.

While the masses milling through Notre Dame trample most of the magic that made the cathedral renowned, there are some other Parisian churches where spirituality is alive and well. The discreet entrance to the Chapel of the Miraculous Medallion is like a quiet mouth: closed, calm and carefully keeping its secrets. Here, in 1830, Catherine Labouré, a novice in the Community of the Daughters of Charity, met the Virgin Mary not once, but twice. The Holy Mother appeared in rays of light and instructed the 24-year-old to have a medallion made of this vision, promising that all who wore the amulet would receive great graces. The medals were responsible for many miracles, including curing a cholera epidemic, protecting the chapel itself from a fire that destroyed the neighboring department store and healing a terminally ill child. Remarkably, that does not end the story of the medallion. After Catherine was beatified in St Peter’s Basilica on May 28, 1933, the Church had her body exhumed so that it could be returned to the Chapel of the Miraculous Medallion, where it was opened in the presence of the Archbishop of Paris. As the coffin lid was removed, those present gasped with astonishment. Catherine lay there, looking exactly as she had the day she had been laid to rest 57 years before. Her body is still preserved and on display in the chapel for all to see. The pendant itself is also available at an unbelievably nominal cost, so visitors can take the magic home or offer a unique gift.

A different type of temple can be found on the Left Bank, across the Seine from Notre Dame. Set up in the remains of an old monastery (inside the store there is a dried-up well primed for wishes), Shakespeare & Co. is an antique mirror of its surrounding neighborhood. The shelves of this American bookstore are as snarled as the streets of the Latin Quarter, and both places are perfect for exploring. Not to be confused with the Sylvia Beach’s Shakespeare & Co., which was located on the rue de l’Odeon, George Whitman founded and runs the current shop. He is responsible for the atmosphere authentic enough to leave a lump in a struggling writer’s throat and the sense of community that makes every voyager feel at home. As it says over the entrance to the salon: Be not inhospitable to strangers. Lest they be Angels in Disguise.

Less known (and less expensive), though just as homey, is the Tea & Tattered Cover. Like a favorite easy chair, a first jean jacket or an old quilt that has memorized the contours of your body, this used bookstore has that comfortable, “worn in’ feeling.” A wonderful place to spend time (and not much else), this librairie américaine with an American twang also includes a small restaurant serving Sunday brunch, daily menus, root beer and 24 kinds of tea. Also on the menu is a selection of cheap paperbacks stacked along aisles of fiction, non-fiction, crime, sci-fi and kids’ books. Readers come here to feel the warmth of sitting in a kitchen, drink espresso and fall in love with strangers through passages they’ve underlined in the books on offer.

If French food is more tempting than American fare, one of the best places to appreciate the art of this country’s cuisine, strangely enough, is a train station. Nestled atop the rails in the Gare de Lyon is the lavish heaven of Le Train Bleu. Opened at the turn of the century in the height of la belle époque, this Second-Empire shrine to gilt provides an ambience as rich as the food itself. The sculptures, dark-wood paneling, stuccowork and crystal chandeliers are delectable, but the frescos are the icing on the cake. These immense, brightly colored pictures illustrate the cities through which travelers pass when they take the train south to Lyon and the Mediterranean. Prepared by a renowned chef, the food is a bit pricier than a neighborhood bistro, but there is an affordable prix-fixe meal including three courses and wine, which brings this corner of heaven down to earth.

For vegetarians, Europe offers frustratingly few choices. While Paris is not an exception to this tendency, there are some restaurants that serve excellent food, sans meat. One of them, ironically, is found on “Butcher’s Street” (rue Bûcherie), on the Île de la Cité. The Grenier de Notre Dame specializes in macrobiotic food, vegetarian meals (including vegetable lasagna and vegetable couscous) and meat substitutes. The prix-fixe menus are lean on the pocketbook, but what really whets the appetite is the reasonable sampler platter. The Grenier also sells take-out meals and has a store inside the restaurant for those who prefer a moveable feast.

Parisian parks are ideal settings for such picnics, and the Tino Rossi Gardens remain unjustifiably unexplored when compared to its better-known neighbor, the Jardin du Luxembourg. What do the classical tenor best known for “La Cucaracha,” an open-air contemporary sculpture museum and Japan have in common? Nothing. But that didn’t stop the city of Paris from converting the port of Saint Bernard into a free, outdoor museum based on one in Hakoné, Japan and naming the place after Tino Rossi.

Incongruity aside, this riverbank is a good place to waste time under the guise of culture. Among the artists represented here is César, the sculptor who designed the statuette for the French Oscars.

On the other side of the Seine waits a park admired by Parisians and ignored by most tourists. Le Parc des Buttes Chaumont was once a mine in the suburbs of Paris, but when the area was annexed by the city, the Emperor charged his city planner, the Baron Haussmann, with the task of converting the desolate hillside into a place that justified the taxes the government levied against the inhabitants.

The result is breathtaking. The sprawling expanse of greenery includes a human-made mountain that rises from a human-made lake; the gazebo perched on top of the rock outcropping can be accessed by one of two bridges or a tunnel carved into the stone. There is also an artificial cave complete with stalactites and a waterfall. Open from dawn to dusk year round, the park serves as haven for those searching to escape the concrete and hustle-bustle of life in the big city.

Yet another sanctuary of tranquility in the heart of the metropolis is the Père Lachaise cemetery. At forty-four hectares, this is more than just the largest park in the city; its million-plus permanent “residents” (not counting the stray cats) make this cemetery France’s second largest city. Inaugurated in 1804, the graveyard was designed as a park, which explains why strolling to death’s door is such a pleasure here. To go sightseeing in this “town,” buy a map at one of the florists or cafés by the entrance. In addition to the standards-Chopin, Gertrude Stein, Edith Piaf, Yves Montand, Balzac-check out the back of Oscar Wilde’s Egyptian-style stone, where you’ll discover a fitting poem and the mystery of the marker’s history.

The mourners at Jim Morrison’s grave are more interesting than the grave itself, though the graffiti is funny and his is the only grave with a guard. Don’t leave without paying a visit to Victor Noir. In 1870, two days before Victor’s wedding, a prince shot the 22-year-old journalist point-blank, killing him. Over his grave lies a statue of him on his back, which stands out as the best “equipped” memorial in the cemetery. The cemetery offers visitors the proof of Paris’ ability to reincarnate itself without ever having died.

The capacity of change that Paris possesses sets it apart from other European capitals. The dynamic landscape ensures that there is always something new for visitors, no matter how frequently they’ve come. Mysteries and magic lie under each cobblestone, waiting patiently for the next person to travel off the beaten path and discover them.

After living in Paris for 12 years, Paul Alan Prescott had made the capital his home. He is currently finishing the first of a 20-volume literary cycle about the City of Light.