A visit to Paris
Francis Muir
planning on a visit.
Accomodations
-------------
I stayed at the Hotel residence MONGE on the rue MONGE in the 5ieme
Arrondissement. Rue M runs SSE from the Ile St-Louis, and my hotel
was within walking distance of the Seine. My Institut de Physique du
Globe is within the very ugly Jussieu complex that also houses the
6th and 7th Universities of Paris. This was a perfect two-star. Spotless,
a nice view over the Arenes de Lutece, attached bathroom, and, most
particularly, a management whose standard answer was "no problem."
For my room 26 and with a petit dejeuner thrown in, the price was
under 500F which is also under $100.
Gardens
-------
Three stand out. The JARDIN des PLANTES which manages to be formal but
attract informal, picnic happenings. Therein the MENAGERIE, perhaps the
wolrd's oldest zoo, and rustic in that way that marie Antoinette understood
the term. Perhaps little changed since its pre-Revolutionary days. For
me the most notable animal was the wild ass from central France. Huge and
very hairy. I left just before Mitterand was to open the most important
building of the Natural History museum which has been renovated a la
Gare d'Orsay and become an Evolutionary expose.
The Parc Andre Citroen artfully disguises the site where Citroens were once
made. Great place for kids since it is about the only park I know in Paris
(well, almost) where the grass is to be worked on. Its an architected park
whose like I had never seen before.
The LUXEMBOURG GARDENS are the cathedral where paris worships on a Sunday.
While I was there, one of the broad central paths was completely blocked
by a yoga-cum-stretch class that seemed to have been transplanted straight
from the Palo Alto YMCA. Further up a rustic band, CASAL de CATALUNYA, was
playing on weird, catastrophic, lunatic instruments while Cataloonies of
all shapes and ages formed rings and danced holding hands up high. I never
found the marionette theatre...
Walks
-----
I walked everywhere and at all times of the day and night and never felt
even a hint of insecurity. This was around the 1st, 4th, 5th, 6th, and
7th Arrondissements. Of course, it would be another matter up in the North
or around Montmartre. Now I have just finished fixing some of Dr Scholl's
Bunion Killers to my feet. Oh yes, and i've lost 5lbs (Mike Godwin and
the Learned Professor please note).
Food
----
I almost always had a sandwich lunch. The local bakery down the road
would make these half-baguette sandwiches with, for me, ham and cheese.
Old-fashioned, pale pink ham with white fat. Mild. Cheese would be
either Edam or Gruyere. Some butter. All this in a slim plastic bag
which can be pushed up to allow the sandwich to be eaten en passant.
The perfect light lunch. The woman with a stand outside the M'O had
good ones too, but her's were 20F where my bakery charged 12F (about
5F to the $). In the evening I'd generally drift down to the Muoffetard
and either have the inexpensive Menu 52F at the Piano Muet (Oeuf
Mayonnaise, grilled fish, and a couple of cheeses) or go round the
corner on to the rue du Pot de Fer where I'd have a Moule Frite, a
gynormous plate of mussels and another gynormous plate of shoe-string
fries. Yummie. With a bottle of BADOIS (carbonated mineral water from
the Loire. Delicious) this came to maybe 80F. On the last night I went
to the other (West, more posh) end of the Pot de Fer and had a $40
meal of Oysters, a "nouveau" fish dish in a mild ginger and curry sauce,
and a round of six cheeses and coffee. Green olives thrown in and several
breads. And my favorite Badois of course. Next door there was one of the
several Irish pubs that cater for young Irish. They had Buckler (boo-CLARE),
a non-alc beer from heineken. Oh yes, just up from Jussieu, in a little
alley called the Rue des Boulangers, there is the FINNEGANS WAKE. great
place. irish. Literary, Haunt of grad students. Info on local Bloomsday
happenings too. All restaurants post prices very conspicuously, and the
prices sure beat New York.
Churches
--------
A belle copaine du net insisted that I visit Sainte-Chappelle and i did.
Although this old chapel is most famous for the richest and darkest glass
I have ever seen (at 100am the sun comes through the lights behind the
altar and seems to particularly transform the reds), but the decorated
pillars were delightful and the time to have a good look at how the
place looks would be to take in one of the magnificent concerts for
chamber or small orchestra that are held there regularly.
After walking round the Luxembourg Gardens I went towards the river and
heard music coming from San Severin. Dropped in to find myself in the
middle of a High Mass, my first in 30 years! Pipey, early organ playing
the old stuff, Titelouze, Frescobaldi, Couperin, &c. A choir-master, a
woman, but no choir, or rather we were the choir. Simple stuff from
sheets. Texte et musique Claude Duchesneau.
Nous avons mange ensemble
le vrai Pain qui nous unit
En mangeant le meme Pain,
que le meme Amour divin
nous unisse a tous nos freres,
nous unisse a notre Pere.
Sermon lasted about 2 minutes! No collection!!
Fine Arts
---------
Not the Louvre, except to inspect the Pyramid which seems to act much
like a giant Ant Trap for visitors. The good stuff has all been taken
across the Seine and hidden in a museum, Musee d'Orsay, disguised as
a railway station. This is a magnificent building. Very mixed art. No
Turner, but then they'd have to re-write their History of Impressionism.
They do have Whistler's Mother (in-law?). A joke, i suppose.
I quite liked Pompidou but it looked a bit dirty. Matisse is magnif.
Enough. As i have said before, Paris far exceeded my expectations.
Books
-----
I visited two bookshops, one on Mouffetard and the other opposite
Jussieu. Great places. Small, but catering for that intellectual
audience that they do not seem ashamed to expect. Reasonably
disorderly, but the persons behind knew most stuff. Interesting
translations from English. Two new ones were Trollope's AUTOBIOGRAPHY
and Shaw's Musical Crits over some 75 years (1875-1950). I bought
a little book of erotic pop-ups from about 1825. A sort of "what
the butler saw".
Francos Muir
and
Mark Taranto
Francis writes of his trip to Paris, which sounds wonderful:
All restaurants post prices very conspicuously, and the
prices sure beat New York.
In France, the restaurants are required to post their prices.
I found some rather pricey places in Paris, and know of some real
bargains in New York. In general, I've found food more expensive in
New York, and drink more expensive in Paris. A bottle of Champagne
costs as much or more in Paris than in New York.
The good stuff has all been taken across the Seine and hidden
in a museum, Musee d'Orsay, disguised as a railway station.
This is a magnificent building.
Isn't it, though.
Very mixed art. No Turner . . . .
Unlike the British, the French are known for their fine taste in art.
Mark
William Smith
Francis writes of his trip to Paris:
Very mixed art. No Turner . . . .
Mark Taranto writes:
Unlike the British, the French are known for their fine taste in art.
Unlike New Yorkers, Californians are known for thier fine taste in posting.
William Sburgfort Smith
Mark Taranto
William Sburgfort Smith writes:
Francis writes of his trip to Paris:
Very mixed art. No Turner . . . .
Mark Taranto writes:
Unlike the British, the French are known for their
fine taste in art.
Unlike New Yorkers, Californians are known for thier fine
taste in posting.
Oh dear. Sburgfort thinks I'm being rude.
Perhaps Sburgfort could explain why it is considered to be in good
taste for Francis to slam Whistler, while my negative comment about
British Art, which is really quite abysmal on the whole, is
considered in bad taste.
But perhaps I should have explained that I meant my comment as a joke,
and was hoping that readers would see the similarity to what I said,
and what Whistler said when he was thrown out of England, and took
refuge in France.
My apologies, if what I said seemed to be an attack on Francis,
whose taste I admire, in all things other than Turner.
And Sburgfort knows very well that I'm not a *real* New Yorker.
Mark
William Smith
Perhaps Sburgfort could explain why it is considered to be in good
taste for Francis to slam Whistler, while my negative comment about
British Art, which is really quite abysmal on the whole, is
considered in bad taste.
I thought it was in poor taste because Fancis is or was British.
Francis said something about a painting, not about an ethnic group.
Even if your comment was only about Francis, it was about a person,
not a work of art or a book or a whatever object.
William Sburgfort Smith
Francis Muir
granted tenure at MIT by spending most of his time at the University of
Chicago and the Ecole Normale Superieure, took me all over the Marais. Its
fine as ghettos go, I suppose, but does not compare with Prague where the
New Synagogue and Old Cemetary are quite enthralling. Schindler's List came up,
of course, and he described the moving end where Schindler's relatives place
stones on the grave. I did not have the heart to suggest that Spielberg had
faked the whole scene.
Francis Muir
Mike Godwin
Francis, Francis. Spielberg staged the scene, but the scene was real.
--Mike
--
Mike Godwin, (202) 347-5400 |"And walk among long dappled grass,
mnem...@eff.org | And pluck till time and times are done
Electronic Frontier | The silver apples of the moon,
Foundation | The golden apples of the sun."
Mark Taranto
William Sburgfort Smith once again chastises me about my reply to
the post about Francis' trip to Paris.
Reading my reply, I see what upsets him, and can only reiterate that
it was not intended that way. While I freely admit that I was baiting
Francis, I certainly did not intend to be rude or in poor taste.
Francis is often at his best in responding to posts of this sort, and
I was looking forward to his defense of Turner and English Art
[oxymoron that it is], and his further putdown's of Whistler.
I again apologize if it seemed that I was putting down Francis. On
January 1, I made three resolutions. They were:
1. Don't be nasty about Francis in public during 1993.
2. Don't be nasty about HRH in public during 1993.
3. Lose some weight.
Until this incident, I was doing quite well on the first point. With
the exception of congratulating Roger Lustig on making it into HRH's
kill file, I've done an exemplary job on the second. And, finally,
I've lost 16 pounds this year (not from walking through Paris, like
Francis -- but by playing four hours of squash per week; although
another reason is that since Sburgfort has moved back to the West
Coast, I'm also drinking less beer).
I've got another six months to prove myself.
I should also point out that I had no intention of maligning the
English. I love the English -- but I will never praise their art, nor
their food. Humor, beer and Literature are all things that they
produce much better than the Americans, however.
Literature -- I *knew* that I could get it back to a proper r.a.b topic.
Mark
John Wojdylo
>Gardens
>-------
[...] For
>me the most notable animal was the wild ass from central France. Huge and
>very hairy.
Glad to see you enjoyed your trip, Monsieur Francos. Travel, as they
say, broadens one's tastes -- I hear that previously Monsieur's most notable
animals were wild calves, hairy or not.
> Francos Muir
jw
Francis Muir
Francis Muir writes:
Gardens
-------
[...] For me the most notable animal was the wild ass
from central France. Huge and very hairy.
Glad to see you enjoyed your trip, Monsieur Francos. Travel,
as they say, broadens one's tastes -- I hear that previously
Monsieur's most notable animals were wild calves, hairy or not.
Wojdylo is back!
Once known and feared as INFIDEL!
Who shall forget those posts that dripped
with gender-specific body fluids!
Rhymes with Bo Diddely Squat.
NOT!
Well, wellcome!
Directed a film or two?
Produced a play?
What's up (or, actually, down)
in Perth, Western Australia?
Francis Muir
Postscript. It was "Thighs like wild mares" I believe.
Cole Kendall
Muir) says:
>
[Large section of vaguely book related travelogue deleted]
>
>Gardens
>-------
>
>Three stand out. The JARDIN des PLANTES which manages to be formal but
>attract informal, picnic happenings. Therein the MENAGERIE, perhaps the
>wolrd's oldest zoo, and rustic in that way that marie Antoinette understood
>the term. Perhaps little changed since its pre-Revolutionary days. For
>me the most notable animal was the wild ass from central France. Huge and
>very hairy.
For those whose tastes run in this direction, I would like to suggest
a book: _Bestiaux_, Photographies by Yann Arthus_Bertrand and
Textes by Alain Raveneau. I picked up the "agenda" version of this
in Paris about a year ago. A fascinating exercise, probably encouraged
by the government, depicting French farm animals in all their glory.
Everything from the "Limousin" bull (1.5m tall, weighs 1200kg), the
"Large White" (originally from Yorkshire) pig and the "Baudet du Poitou"
a large, hairy mule-like creature. Many animals photographed with
humans from the corresponding region.
Cole Kendall
Francis Muir
Francis Muir writes:
Therein [JARDIN des PLANTES] the MENAGERIE, perhaps the
world's oldest zoo, and rustic in that way that Marie
Antoinette understood. Perhaps little changed since its
pre-Revolutionary days. For me the most notable animal
was the wild ass from central France. Huge and very hairy.
For those whose tastes run in this direction, I would like to
suggest a book: _Bestiaux_, Photographies by Yann Arthus_Bertrand
and Textes by Alain Raveneau. I picked up the "agenda" version of
this in Paris about a year ago. A fascinating exercise, probably
encouraged by the government, depicting French farm animals in all
their glory. Everything from the "Limousin" bull (1.5m tall, weighs
1200kg), the "Large White" (originally from Yorkshire) pig and the
"Baudet du Poitou" a large, hairy mule-like creature. Many animals
photographed with humans from the corresponding region.
The Baudet de Poitou is precisely what my large, hairy ass was. These asses
were bred to provide the mules which are, of course, horse/ass crosses.
Francis Muir
Postscript. Yes, I know that my reference to my "large hairy ass" is going
to be met with hoots of laughter in some quarters. Go ahead, we can all
use a giggle from time to time.
Mark Taranto
Francis Muir writes:
Postscript. Yes, I know that my reference to my "large hairy
ass" is going to be met with hoots of laughter in some
quarters.
Only from the Hind Quarters.
Mark
Insanity's Mistress
>
> 1. Don't be nasty about Francis in public during 1993.
Well, that explains it, doesn't it?
--Jane
Sandra Vigil
> 1. Don't be nasty about Francis in public during 1993.
> 2. Don't be nasty about HRH in public during 1993.
> 3. Lose some weight.
[and...]
>I've got another six months to prove myself.
1993, 1994. What's a year among friends. If you get to take a year off
your age, Mark, I do, too.
/S
--
"You can either be a completely informed * *
baseball fan or you can have a life." Sandra Vigil
vi...@esca.com
- Thomas Boswell * *
John Wojdylo
John Wojdylo writes:
Francis Muir writes:
Gardens
-------
[...] For me the most notable animal was the wild ass
from central France. Huge and very hairy.
Glad to see you enjoyed your trip, Monsieur Francos. Travel,
as they say, broadens one's tastes -- I hear that previously
Monsieur's most notable animals were wild calves, hairy or not.
Wojdylo is back!
Once known and feared as INFIDEL!
Who shall forget those posts that dripped
with gender-specific body fluids!
Rhymes with Bo Diddely Squat.
NOT!
Well, wellcome!
Directed a film or two?
Produced a play?
What's up (or, actually, down)
in Perth, Western Australia?
The long days spent studying Japanese lead me to recommend the Kenkyusha
Japanese to English dictionary. The usage examples therein are vivid and
in current use.
As for method of learning, I advise wariness of Japanese departments at
universities -- especially in a country in the throes of a policy called
"devolution" -- and recommend one instead seeks out a retired Japanese
professor -- or similar -- who has had a lifelong interest in German writers
such as Mann and Goethe, as well as perhaps in a few Russian writers, who
eschews pedantry and has a feel for form. Though such teachers are rare in this
materialistic age, they do exist, and ought to be appreciated for the
gifts they can offer. There comes a time when the teacher has nothing
more of interest to offer; then one takes leave of them without regret.
jw