Paris Journal, Postscript

Thursday 7/13

Hard to believe we've been back for almost two weeks already. I was itching to get home and to sleep in my own bed by the time we got on the plane, and really for the last few days of the trip, and so was Nicholas (though the same wasn't quite true for Suzanne, who wept on our last night). But perhaps inevitably, the return has been a bit of a letdown in some ways. Work, bills, home repairs, lawn maintenance--it was all still here waiting for us, and though Branford is a nice little town it can't quite match the glories of Paris. Of course we do have the beach, the water, the breezes, and all the comforts of home--but it doesn't help that it's been really hot, the breezes have been scarce, and the jellyfish have come in about six weeks early this year, making it impossible to swim at our neighborhood beach.

Already we have talked about whether we can swing Paris again next year--but that remains to be seen. In the meantime I'm hoping that what Hemingway says will prove true, that Paris will turn out to be "a moveable feast." What he actually writes, in a passage from a letter to a friend that became the epigraph to his book, is this:

If you are lucky enough to have lived
in Paris as a young man, then wherever you
go for the rest of your life, it stays with
you, for Paris is a moveable feast.

I will pass over the delicate question of whether we were "young" during our time there, observing only that youth is relative. And I'll assume you don't have to be a man to get the benefit. The little matter of whether a stay of five weeks constitutes "living in Paris" is also a bit tricky (certainly Hemingway was in residence a lot longer), but I like to think we were there long enough to pick up at least a bit of the real flavor of things.

Still, I'm left wondering what exactly Hemingway means when he calls Paris a moveable feast that stays with you the rest of your life, and what exactly, if anything, the concept might mean for us. Hemingway's memories of living in Paris are deeply bound up with being poor and happy and deeply in love with his first wife, and with all the good writing he got done there and his coming of age as an artist--and all those things are very personal and specific to the unfolding of his particular life. Some of the best parts of the book (and ones that especially resonated for me) are about the act of writing, the discipline it takes and the wild ups and downs of the writing life. At one point (I can't find the passage now) he says, roughly, that Paris is the city best "organized" (that's a definite quote) for living as a writer. And though we inhabited a different Paris than Hemingway way did, and though I can hardly call myself a writer in same sense that he was one, I can still understand what he meant by this. In Paris the appreciation for things aesthetic runs deep. The city itself is beautiful and alive, and the people there care deeply about food and wine and art and books. When I was there, the act of writing felt natural, like breathing, and I did a helluva lot of it. That's been hard to sustain since I got back. But having experienced that way of living, and having fallen under its spell, I'm hoping that I can continue to draw on this experience, this knowledge, for sustenance, and that I can carry forward some of the inspiration I experienced in Paris into my life here. I hope that this will be true for all three of us, each in our own way but also together as a family. That's the moveable feast I'd like us to be able to continue to savor.

Paris Journal, Part 8

Thursday 6/26

Today we took a long walking tour of Pigalle (where it proved easier than expected to keep Nicholas from noticing the racy stuff) and Montmartre, led by a group of Suzanne's students, who did a nice job of point out the notable sites. We walked by the sex shops and strip clubs in Pigalle, of course, but also saw: the Place Andre Breton and the building housing Breton's old apartment; the Moulin Rouge; an avant-garde building designed by Alfred Loos for Tristan Tzara; Salvador Dali's old apartment, the Lapin Agile, and the Bateau-Lavoir (Picasso painted the "Third Rose" portrait of Gertrude Stein here, and also Les Damoiselles d'Avignon. Montmartre is the highest point of elevation in Paris, and some of the streets are San Francisco-steep. It was another hot day, but the air was noticeably cooler and fresher here. The combination of hilly terrain, narrow streets and picturesque old buildings meant that we got our exercise and some lovely views at the same time.

We ended up at Sacre Coeur, which shines whitely at the top of the hill. This church was the only one we've been in so far that asks for silence inside and prohibits photographs, though they still have a gift shop selling religious icons, and a vending machine for Sacre Coeur medallions (Nicholas got one for his collection). Outside, on the steps overlooking the rest of the city, was gathered a mob of tourists, a couple of musicians playing sacred music for spare change, and a few beggars asking for alms. As we left we were happy to discover the funicular, which allows you to avoid the long set of steps down the hill, and then to come across a very lovely and elaborate old carousel, on which the three of us took a ride. We decided we needed to stop for something to eat on the way home, so we stopped for a relatively simple dinner at Parnasse 138. I had a very good fish soup as an appetizer, and Nicholas had his first grapple with an appropriately cheesy bowl of French onion soup. In a first for the trip, Suzanne and I skipped dessert even though it was included in the "formule." Nicholas, on the other hand, decided that he did want to have some ice cream.

Friday 6/27

Slow day with all of us tired from the last three days of big expeditions. I was due for some time off from daddy duty, so I went to the Jardin du Luxembourg for some reading and reading.. There was an excellent youth orchestra in the park playing Hello Dolly, the theme from Jaws, It's a Wonderful World, the Star Wars bar theme, and other crowd-pleasers. Suzanne and Nicholas went back to the American library for a new Hardy boys mystery (The Mystery of the Flying Express), getting another choice view of the Eiffel Tower in the process.


Saturday 6/28

There was an extremely large, loud, and raucous Gay Pride parade today that started by late morning not far away (it was loud even in our apartment) and snaked through the city for a good six or seven hours. Since the normal bus from Glaciere wasn't running, we discovered, happily, that we could walk without too much difficulty to the Jardin du Luxembourg, and in fact we even detoured a bit to take in the Pantheon, though we decided not to pay the entrance fee to go in. Once we got the Jardin the big treat was that we finally got a boat for Nicholas to sail in the central pond! He had a blast running around for a solid hour with all the other kids, the main task being to shove one's boat off from the side of the pond with a long wooden stick whenever it nears shore. Each child notes the number of his or her bateau and then eagerly follows its course as it tacks hither and thither. A moment of suspense comes if one's boat is sucked into the vortex around central fountain, but somehow all the boats manage to break free in the end. Whenever a French child's boat approaches the shore and is in need of a shove, one is likely to hear the excited cry "Il arrive! Il arrive!"

After the boating, we took Nicholas to the very cool playground I had scouted out on a previous visit. It was closed when he and I came to the Jardin for the first time but since then I had noticed that it seemed to be open for the season. It has great climbing structures, with tunnels and rope ladders and swinging bridges and everything one could want, and Nicholas checked out most of what it had to offer. All in all, it was a full afternoon of Luxembourg fun.

For dinner, we finally went to Bar a Huitres for the oysters I've been anticipating. I ordered the house specialty, a quite large platter of mostly raw seafood served on a bed of ice. Eating it was an invigorating and challenging experience even for a veteran Maryland-born crab-eater. In addition to the oysters (which were very good), the platter came with one small blue crab, a large spider crab, clams, mussels (discovered I don't really like these raw), shrimp (steamed), whelks, periwinkles, and some very tiny prawns. I skipped the periwinkles and the tiny prawns, since these were a lot of effort without much pay-off, but enjoyed all the rest, and was pleased to find out that I like whelks quite a lot. The seafood was served with three condiments in small pots--one was mayo, one was a very tasty and somewhat spicy creamy sauce, and one was almost like a vinegar dressing. I found myself really missing the cocktail sauce (the kind with lots of horse radish) for the oysters.

Sunday 6/29

Today we took a long, sweaty trek to and around and through the Chateau Versailles and its grounds. Alas, the Chateau itself was a bit of a bust for us--it was simply too mobbed with tourists (we waited in a long line just to get in, even though we bought our tickets in advance) and we didn't enjoy shuffling along with the crowd looking at a lot of not particularly interesting paintings of French kings and queens. To be sure, the whole affair was notably lavish and indisputably shiny, but it left me cold, or rather, hot and sweaty and irritable. We didn't really begin to enjoy ourselves until we got out to the grounds, and even then we still faced the problem that there were too many tourists and too few bathrooms and places to get refreshments (long lines for both). Things picked up by 3:30 when Les Grands Eaux Musicals began. This is when they begin piping classical music through an extensive speaker system while also turning on all the many fountains, which feature impressive statues of galloping horses, leaping dolphins, cavorting gods and goddesses, and so on. All of this was very pleasant, and the day began to cool, with some help from the misting fountains. We watched a couple of Italian youths using bread crumbs as bait and trying, just for fun, to catch some very big fish (carp?) in the central pond with their hands, and were eventually refreshed enough to enjoy all the varied and gorgeous flowers. I used my Elph to shoot a short video of Suzanne and Nicholas dancing that captured some of the best and lightest spirit of the day. And now when I read all those references to Versailles in the history books I will know whereof they speak.

Monday 6/30

Watched Nicholas in the morning while Suzanne prepped for teaching. He has filled a couple of notebooks with drawings and writings since we've been here, and is quite proud of this fact, and he managed a couple of pretty elaborate multi-colored dragons just this morning (the other day I got him a book on all the different types of dragons and how to draw them, and this has provided some inspiration, though he still has his own preferred style). This morning as he was sketching he said, "Dad, won't we be famous when we get back?" and when I asked him why he said "Because of all of these great drawings!" I said yes, we probably would be famous. Nicholas plans to set up our own "museum" in the house when we get back.

In the afternoon, I did some reading and writing interspersed with a the usual copious amount of walking. Today's walk nicely filled in a few gaps in my mental map of the surrounding area. First I took the green line to the Edgar Quinet stop and walked around the interesting cafe-filled area we noticed the other evening on our way to La Cagouille. Then I cut up to Boulevard Montparnasse and walked east, and before very long I hit the familiar cafes (Le Dome, Le Select, and La Coupole) in the area of Montparnasse that we have been in the habit of reaching by taking the Metro to the Vavin stop. I kept going further east until I hit Hemingway's old hangout the Closerie de Lilas. They have a collage rendering of Hem's face (both old and young) on the menu, but the place still has a solidly authentic French feel, with its cloistered patio protecting one from the crowded boulevard, and some quite impressive woodwork and tiling in the dark interior (including some very small tiles that look to be made of tiny sheets of beaten gold suspended in glass). I had a Pernod (always wanted to try one of those) and did a bit of writing. There were only a few other patrons at this time of the afternoon and it was a nice calm place to sit and work for a while.

On the way home I continued east on the Boulevard Montparnasse until it turns into Boulevard Port Royal. At this point, I could have cut south and ended up at Denfert Rochereau if I had wished, but instead I headed north (on Avenue de L'Observatoire) toward Jardin du Luxembourg, discovering that there is a separate little park extending like a slim southern arm from the Luxembourg. It's called Jardin Marco Polo and features a great fountain with galloping horses and turtles spouting water from their mouths, more or less in the Versailles mode. There were a few kids in swimsuits playing in the fountain, and as I continued north I saw that this is one of those places where you can actually lie or sit or play on the grass. Lots of people were stretched out either sunning themselves or enjoying the cool shade. It was a lively scene, and quite close to our apartment if one were to walk there directly.

Wednesday 7/2

Well, Nicholas has been so good this trip--gamely touring museums, walking miles at a time without complaint, sitting through long French dinners until the glace finally arrives, etc.--that we've decided to go to Paris Disney on Friday. Today I went to the big mall at Place d' Italie because it has an FNAC store (selling computers, dvds, books, music, etc.) from which you can pick up advance Disney tickets (crazily enough, you can not buy advance tickets from the Disney phone-order line if it's less than five days in advance, though they neglected to tell us this when we called for information a week ago).

Only later at dinner, talking to Suzanne's students, did we realize that all the attractions will be in French! Somehow the whole "Disney" thing seems so American that we just hadn't thought about it. Guess we'll find out how it goes. After getting the tickets, I took the Metro to the Bastille stop, and ended up doing quite a bit of walking in the rain as I wended my way to the Marais for one last meander. I went to our favorite patisserie from our previous trip, on Rue Vielle du Temple, just up the street from our old hotel, for a mille-feuille (what we call a Napoleon). I hadn't had one of these the whole trip, and it's getting down to now-or-never time (it was delicious). I also made a quick tour of the Musee Victor Hugo as I cut through the Place des Vosges. They've preserved much of the furniture from his lavish apartment--lots of heavy and ornate dark wood, and a clear taste for both Chinoiserie and the Gothic style. But the most impressive thing of all had to be the views out the large windows opening onto the Place des Vosges. It struck me as a pretty nice place to get some writing done.

Nicholas and Suzanne also had some errands to do during the afternoon, and then I surprised them at the little Notre Dame park (where I knew they were eventually headed). We went to Shakespeare and Company to pick up a book for Nicholas (we got The Indian in the Cupboard) for after we return our American library loaners, and particularly for the plane ride home.

From there it was on to Le Bistrot des Pingouins for the last class dinner. It's been a really great class (only one session left), and the students, who have lots of shared Paris experiences at this point, seem to have become a pretty close-knit group. Toward the end of dinner, Nicholas had his much-anticipated Tic-Tac-To championship match with Tanya--it was a rousing spectacle ending in a final score of 11 wins each, 10 draws (at this point I had to take Nicholas home for bedtime). Our favorite neighborhood bistrot didn't let us down--I think everyone enjoyed the good food (boy these kids put away a lot of beef!) and the relaxed but lively atmosphere.

Thursday 7/3

Suzanne and Nicholas are off to the very last class tour, visiting some of the famous resting places in the Cimetiere de Pere La-Chaise. It's an impressive list--the Lizard King (Jim Morrison), of course, but also Oscar Wilde, Richard Wright, Sara Bernhardt, Colette, Edith Piaf, Chopin, Moliere, Proust, and many others.

I decided to stay home to catch up on the journal and get some other writing done. We go to Disney tomorrow, and fly out Sunday morning, so this will probably be the last Paris post! Nicholas says we're going to have a celebration with all his animals when we get home.

The word count for the journal has topped 12,000. Hope it's been fun to follow along...

Paris Journal, Part 7

Sunday 6/22

Sunday is the biggest day for the fresh market, with the most goodies, so I brought home a feast fit for a king for lunch: warm baguettes, goat cheese, shrimp, tomatoes , cherries, and strawberries. I took Nicholas so Suzanne could work on grading her first batch of papers, then I headed off for some reading and writing in the Jardin d' Observatoire. It was quite hot again, so I sought as much shade as I could. The apartment was pretty hot too, and we began to wonder what it would be like here later in the summer. Late in the afternoon, Suzanne and Nicholas pioneered the use of the #21 bus (much more pleasant than the Metro on a hot day), catching it at Glaciere and riding up to the Jardin du Luxembourg. They caught a really good and sort of zany New Orleans-style brass band playing just outside the park--with male band members wearing dresses, crazy wigs, etc.

Monday 6/23

More paper-grading. A little cooler. Jardin du Luxembourg for reading and writing and les moules again for me. Got whooped by one of the old chess guys in the park, in a game of 5-minute blitz.

Had our first conversation about home and the things we miss, and how we'll be going back in less than two weeks. Nicholas said not sadly but with a smile, "I love my home," and talked about looking forward to seeing all his "animals," a category that I think probably encompasses both our two cats, Missy and Tazzie, and all his stuffed animals (except Snow Leopard and Wolfie, who are here with us).

Tuesday 6/24

Quite hot today, and we ended up making a long, sweaty expedition down the Champs Elysees and to the Arc de Triomphe. Of course, both the view of the arch (apparently the largest in the world) and the view from it are pretty fantastic, and it was fun to meander along the famous avenue. For me that stroll was particularly resonant because I associate it with Proust and Swann's Way, but it was too hot and Nicholas was too tired for us to try to make sure we located the Allee Marcel Proust, which is somewhere in the Jardin des Champs-Elysees. I would have liked to spend a little time sitting on a bench imagining the young Proust and the childhood crush who became Gilberte in the book frolicking in the garden. But since Proust wrote most of his book sitting in bed in a cork-lined room, I guess I don't have to go there to do the imagining.

Even though we avoided all the stairs by taking the elevator up and down the Arc, we were pretty beat by the end. We could only manage to stagger to the first cafe we hit after we emerged from the underground tunnel that gets you back and forth across the heavily trafficked circle that makes an island of the Arch and its immediate surround. It was an Italian joint so we got an early dinner of pizza and spaghetti (Nicholas is always happy to see this on a menu) while we sat on the patio, amid the roar of Champs Elysees traffic and with the Arc looming close by.

Wednesday 6/25

Another big expedition with Suzanne's class, this time to the Centre Pompidou (which we missed on our last visit). I can see how it must have been absolutely shocking when this massive modern structure, all bristling pipes and bright colors, was erected in the midst of the Beaubourg neighborhood, with its quaint and picturesque buildings. The juxtaposition is still striking, but the Centre has settled in as an institution now, drawing more visitors than the Louvre for its exhibits of modern and contemporary works. The views of the city that one can get through the giant glass-walled windows of the terraces (one can't actually go out on these, unfortunately) are nothing short of astounding, and I took some "artistic" shots that I think should come out pretty well (even with digital, one is never entirely sure how the image on the little screen will translate once its transferred and enlarged). And of course I found much to like in the paintings too, especially a room full of Matisses that I hadn't been familiar with, and also Robert Delaunay's brightly colored abstractions--among many, many other works. One can never take in everything that one would like, but I especially regret not going to see Brancusi's Atelier (studio) which has been preserved in a separate building on the museum's plaza.

Nicholas was well rested after a big sleep, and he bowled us over once again with his museum-going capacity, outlasting both Suzanne and me as he also had at the Louvre. After we were finished, we grabbed a couple of crepes and some ice cream and sat refreshing ourselves on the museum plaza, which is a scene in itself, with tourists from all over the world gathered in little clumps dotted across its expanse. At 7 o'clock, we met up again with Suzanne's students (Nicholas had enjoyed running into parts of "the group" as we perused the art) for dinner at Georges, the splashy, chic, and fairly expensive restaurant on the top floor of the restaurant. The entire, very large space is surrounded by floor-to-ceiling glass walls, and there are odd little curvy alcoves, painted bright pink, that make you feel as if you're inside a giant shell. We weren't seated in one of these, but in the central space at a long table running along the south-facing window/wall. Nicholas's seat was directly in line with a straight-on view of Notre Dame, which looked remarkably close. As we ate our food, drank our wine, and talked about our various Paris experiences, the day softened into twilight, the panorama of the city laying open before us as if it might just be ours to possess.

Paris Journal, Part 6

6/19 Thursday

Nicholas took the postponed "Hemingway walking tour" with Suzanne and her students, and also went with them to the Picasso museum ("really good," he told me), and then I met up with everyone--that is, Suzanne and Nicholas and Suzanne's class and Scott and Sue--at Le Colimacon for dinner. We were up on the second floor, just a few paces away from the door to the kitchen (the chef wished us a hearty "Bon Appetit!"), the food and wine was good, and the atmosphere was comfortable. Then, too, the place has special meaning for Suzanne and me, since it was our favorite haunt on our previous trip. It was pleasing to make use of it for this large rendezvous and to have the evening work out so well. We said our farewells to Scott and Sue (who seem to have enjoyed Paris very much), since they are leaving Saturday morning, and Suzanne is off to Giverny tomorrow. Nicholas and I left before the rest of the group and wended our way across the Seine and through the little park by Notre Dame we have come to like so much and across the Seine again to the St. Michel metro stop, then from there to Denfert Rochereau and the walk home. It was still 10 by the time Nicholas was in bed, even though we had started dinner at 6:30--so, rather late again, but we had a lovely evening walk.

6/20 Friday

Suzanne and her class had their big day-long expedition to Giverny (leaving early in the morning and not returning until 8pm) to wander around Monet's old stamping ground, taking in the house with its large collection of Japanese prints and the extensive gardens (including, of course, water lilies). That meant a big day for Nicholas and me. We hung out in the morning watching some of Toy Story 2 (which is even better than the first one) and doing some drawing, then we went up to Zen Sushi for lunch, took a meander through the neighborhood, and wound up at Parc Montsouris, which I had not been to before, though Nicholas had checked it out with Suzanne and Julia. It's a really wonderful and rather large park, quite near Cite Universitaire, where Suzanne is teaching. It has a duck pond, a public bathroom (not as common as one would like), excellent climbing structures, great "tree forts," a waterfall and stream, and a small cafe serving glace, crepes, and the like. We played on just about everything, and I even got Nicholas to entertain himself for a brief stint so I could sit on a bench with my electronic Larousse attempting to read a couple of pages of Simenon. Things got really exciting by about 5 o'clock, when we had our second go at the climbing structures, because the playground was suddenly flooded with kids accompanied by parents who must have just gotten off work. Even without knowing anyone or speaking any French Nicholas was able to participate joyfully in the general hubbub of kids running around doing the stuff kids do.

The battery went dead on the camera while we were at the park, and I didn't have the spare with me, so I suggested to Nicholas that we take "mental pictures." He really got into it, developing a technique where he would look at the scene, snap his picture, then turn his head to the side, in order, he told me, to make sure he still had the image in his mind. After a while, he told me that he was also "pasting" things into his pictures. When I asked how this worked, he said, "Oh, like, if I take a picture of a scene that doesn't have Daddy in it and I want you in it I can just paste you in." He also liked the idea that your mental pictures are your own private secret that no one else could see. When I said, "But what if you want to show your picture to someone else?" he decided that you could draw a copy of it if you wanted to. By the time we walked home we were taking mental movies.

6/21 Saturday

Suzanne and I had hoped for a couple of nights out on our own while we're here, but it looks like it may come to down to just this one, since Julia is leaving next week and has told us that she'll be too busy to do any more sitting. For tonight's dinner, we chose Millesime 62, singled out by Pudlo for special praise among the restaurants of the 14th.
It's on the Place De Catalogne, which is a large square with monumental Romanesque buildings and a central fountain (a sort of incline plane topped with a thin sheet of flowing water), all designed by a fellow named Boffil. It was interesting to check out a new part of town, and the square certainly had a different look than what we have become used to it--but we weren't all that taken with the design as we made our way to the restaurant through the heat and humidity that had been making us droop for much of the day. It looked better, though, once we had eaten and the evening had cooled down a little, especially since the Eiffel Tower popped into the view down one of the long avenues radiating from the square--we somehow hadn't had the right angle to see it during our approach to the restaurant earlier.

Anyway, we really liked the restaurant, which also had a more contemporary feel than most of the places we've gone so far. Having done a little advance research on the web, we were able to find our way through the French menu with no problems (event though the waitress did offer to answer in English any questions we might have). We had two appetizers; one was a tasty little cold crab and avocado number, but the clear winner was the "croustillant," which was flaky pastry formed into a kind of little pouch, closed with a twist. When you broke it open, it was filled with warm goat cheese. For the main course, I had very good sea bass and Suzanne had the lamb (not something we usually eat, but it was certainly tender and delicious). For dessert, we split the creme brulee epice, that is "creme brulee with spices," the spices--and the fact that it was served cold--giving a new twist to a traditional dessert. We both agreed that we preferred the old style, but it was interesting to try the new.

One of the things that we have missed the most, as compared to our previous trip (when we were a duo rather than a trio) is the leisurely, late, after-dinner stroll along the Seine, with the evening just fading to twilight around 10--so we decided that this was something we would try to do this evening. Already on the way to the restaurant, though, we had begun to realize that this might not work out because this Saturday turned out to be the day of the Fete de la Musique, a street festival taking place in locations all over the city. As it turned out, most of the music was heavily amplified and not particularly great rock and roll, and by night-time the crowds were tremendous. We packed into the sweltering Metro along with the rest of the masses, and emerged into a slowly drifting throng of people lining the quais all long the Seine and also the bridges crossing the river. The quiet, romantic stroll was not to be. But we ended up agreeing that the sheer size and energy of the festival--the spectacle of all these people rocking out in the shadow of Paris's huge, ancient, and classically styled public buildings--made it something to see. And something to hear too, of course, though we stayed as far away from the amplifiers as we could, and would have preferred to come across a small jazz or classical ensemble tucked into some less densely populated nook somewhere. That didn't happen, and, in fact, the bruit was at one point following us, since some student types were making their way through the crowd with large speakers (emitting some very loud and strange noises) strapped to their backs.

Paris Journal, Part 5

6/14 Saturday

Went to Anne's concert at Ste. Chapelle, which will undoubtedly go down as one of the great highlights of the trip. As reputed, the stained glass here is gorgeous, especially with the sun pouring through the rose window. The trains were running less frequently since it was Saturday, so we were a few minutes late for our rendezvous with Anne before the concert, but she was kind enough to wait for us and shepherd us to the front row seats she had reserved. We were only a few feet from the chamber quintet for which Anne is one of the violinists, and this meant not only that we had a great view but also that the acoustics were fantastic (when I commented on this after the show, she told us that they get much more muddied toward the back of the hall). I remember reading an article a while ago talking about how concert hall acoustics are not nearly as well understood as one might expect, so that modern performance spaces sometimes end up with disappointing sound despite the best efforts of the architects--but apparently the medieval builders of Ste. Chapelle knew a thing or two. Some of the selections featured a children's choir and the sound was especially marvelous once the human voice was added to the mix. The swelling high notes in particular were rather sublime. Even more particularly, there was a boy soprano of about 11 who came forward for a solo that actually did send chills up my spine. He was right in front of me, singing with both great power and marvelous articulation, and I could hardly believe his slight body could produce such sound. When he was done, Suzanne and I gave each other a stunned look. I joked with Anne afterwards that it almost makes one understand the medieval tradition of castrati. Nicholas enjoyed the concert (only beginning to slump in the last fifteen minutes or so) and agreed that the boy soprano was amazing.

6/15 Sunday (Father's Day)

Suzanne's brother Scott, and his wife, Sue, arrived today after the same sort of all-nighter we pulled two weeks ago, and looking just as dazed as we were--but also happy to be in Paris. They hung out at our place for a while waiting to be able to check in at their hotel, and we fed them baguette sandwiches with bread from our favorite boulangerie (even in Paris, not all the bread is good, we have found).

After they headed off to catch a nap, Nicholas and Suzanne and I went for a Father's Day outing to one of the local parks--next to the Observatoire de Paris--that Nicholas had been waiting to show me (he also made me a sweet card at a pre-Father's Day arts and crafts session at the American library). One nice feature of this park is that it has several clumps of trees and bushes with room to move around inside--which means to Nicholas that they make great "forts" (and I can still pretty clearly recall the appeal a good fort had for me when I was a kid). We climbed around on some trees, ran around foolishly, gathered a few rocks, stirred up some "dust storms," and watched the French kids running around doing pretty much the same things American kids do. One little girl even helped us with a dust storm for a minute or two, before getting shy and running off.

For dinner, we met up with Scott and Sue for dinner near their hotel in Montparnasse (they have a great location near the famous cafes Le Rotund, Le Dome, and Le Select), at a place called Montparnasse 138, which comes highly recommended by Pudlo for its large menu, good prices, and comfortable atmosphere. It was a lovely meal, with the mussels in cream sauce with leeks standing out as an especially tasty appetizer. Everything Pudlo said was true--the food was good, the staff was friendly, and the prices have remained very reasonable (as was not the case at Les Olivades). I certainly expect to pay them another visit before we leave.


6/16 Monday

Sick day. Stomach bug for all three of us, but especially Suzanne. With a big effort of will I used some of the down-time to catch up on the journal for the previous days.

6/17 Tuesday

Today we were still recovering from the bug, especially in the morning, but managed to venture out for a return to Isle St. Louis with Scott and Sue. We enjoyed introducing them to one of our favorite places, and we ate some great ice cream. They had had a big morning, with lots of walking, so they eventually headed back to their hotel for a rest before dinner. We decided to stay out, giving Nicholas a chance to run around in the great little park by Notre Dame, where we also enjoyed the playing of a couple of pretty good young jazz musicians (sax and guitar) free-lancing for tips (I gave Nicholas a Euro to drop in the guitar case). Then we met back up with Scott and Sue for a wonderful dinner at Bistrot des Pingouins on Rue Daguerre. They really enjoyed their dishes, and it was fun to be able to take them to one of our neighborhood favorites.

6/18 Wednesday

Big day at the Louvre with Scott and Sue. We spent most of our time checking out the ancient statuary and relics, since these (rather than the paintings) were what Nicholas was most interested in seeing. He felt a particular affinity for the ancient Egyptians, noting their admiration for the big cats (many lions were in evidence). After a few hours, I was ready for fresh air, so I peeled off and ended up taking a long walk along the Seine on the Rive Gauche, perusing the many blocks of book stalls as i went. I had in mind a copy of Henry Miller's Quiet Days in Clichy (in French) that I had spotted the day before, far down the line, past Notre Dame. Wouldn't you know, when I finally found the place the book was gone, but along the way I snapped up a couple of Simenon's Inspector Maigret mysteries, including one that is mentioned by Hemingway in A Moveable Feast as possibly the first Simenon he ever read. These were a couple of cheap paperbacks and I hadn't quite sated my book-buying lust, so I returned to Shakespeare and Co. (which we had visited for the first time the day before with Scott and Sue) and picked up a nice copy of Hemingway's Collected Stories, making sure they impressed it with their coveted "Kilometer Zero" stamp. Then, since Nicholas and Suzanne were picking up Asian carry-out for dinner, I decided to take the opportunity to walk along St. Germaine Boulevard until I found a brasserie where I could stop for "les moules" (mussels). Suzanne and I had done this on the previous trip, and I had been looking for the chance to repeat the experience ever since we arrived. To my surprise, none of the many brasseries and cafes I passed seemed to have them, so I ended up walking west (after already walked east from the Louvre to Shakespeare and Co.) almost until I hit St. Germaine de Pres church. On that stretch of the boulevard, across from Les Deux Magots and Cafe Flore, and a few doors down from Brasserie Lip, I located the brasserie (La Taverne St. Germaine) at which we had originally had our moules, and sure enough they were still on the menu. By then I was hot, thirsty, hungry, and foot-weary, so the stakes were high--but they delivered with a tall cold glass of beer and big black pot of mussels. As a bonus, I had an enjoyable and extended conversation (after I recommended les moules) with a couple of visitors from Quebec. They were an older couple, with the hardy, rumpled look of habitual hikers and campers (as it turned out they were), who were having an extended vacation taking them to Greece, Vienna, Paris, the south of France, etc. She was also a poetry lover, and was quite pleased to find out I was a lit professor. We had a very nice exchange, agreeing that we liked forests and lakes, on the one hand, but also cities, on the other, and bid each other warm farewells at the end of the meal.

Paris Journal, Part 4

6/11 Wednesday

Suzanne took her students to the Musee D ' Orsay today. But Nicholas and I were pretty tuckered from the big expedition yesterday, so we took it easy . This gave Nicholas a chance to do some of his "work" at home. He plugged away on the "code" for his rock collection (he labels each rock with a letter, and has made a list of what the letters stand for), and also started on a list of French words and their translations. I also read to him from the Hardy boys book (The Clue in the Embers) we got from the American library--he's quite enraptured by the action, so the interval between evening story-times is proving too long.

Anne, who is a classical violinist, dropped by this morning and invited us to a concert at Ste. Chapelle this Saturday night. They will do Vivaldi (can't remember the piece) and there will be a children's choir. Sounds like it should be lovely.


6/12 Thursday

Tonight we met up with Suzanne's students for dinner at Cafe Delmas. The attraction here is not so much to the food (which is just average) as the location and the history. It's one of Hemingway's old haunts, in the Mouffetard neighborhood where he had an apartment with Hadley (the Rue Mouffetard is one of the old Roman streets, and some of the buildings date to the 12thC). Suzanne had assigned a group of her students to put together a tour for us, but because of a rainy afternoon (that ended up clearing by dinnertime) it was postponed. Instead, we just trotted quickly over for a glimpse of the building where Hemingway lived. The Mouffetard neighborhood has serious character, and I can understand why Hemingway liked it--though they lived in a cold-water flat with no toilet. Apparently, he didn't mind the accommodations (or lack thereof), preferring to save their money for travel rather than everyday living expenses, and making good use of the local cafes.

We had a nice relaxing dinner (sort of a relief to be in a more casual place without a haughty waiter overseeing things), with a large-screen TV off to one side showing the Germany/Croatia football (soccer) match. I enjoyed meeting Suzanne's students--she lucked out with a very nice group of kids, smart and amiable, and clearly reveling in the opportunity to spend five weeks in Paris. And Nicholas really liked meeting them too, especially Tania, a dark-haired beauty with whom he kept up an animated conversation for much of the meal. She was a good sport, explaining that she really likes little kids and has two much younger siblings at home. With me as go-between serving to elucidate some of Nicholas's more obscure allusions, they covered all the Disney movies they had both seen, all the books they had in common, the names of the rocks in his rock collection (Asteroid, Skeleton Face, Baboon Face, Crab Claw, Arrowhead, Rotten Wood), etc. etc.


6/13 Friday

Julia came to take Nicholas to the park for a few hours (they had a great time again). And Suzanne got to do some further exploration of the Mouffetard neighborhood on foot--it's a really funky, interesting place, with lots of arty cafes and shops, narrow winding streets, charming buildings, etc. It's simply astonishing how many great--and different--neighborhoods there are in Paris. It has to be the best city for walking in the world. I went to the Musee D' Orsay for a couple of hours. Quite apart from the paintings, the place itself is fantastic, a renovated 19thC train station featuring a huge central space with a ceiling of glass and steel. There are a couple of observation decks from which you can survey the the people wending their way among the sculptures on the first floor far below. But the paintings, too, are marvelous, the main attractions being the Impressionists and Post-Impressionists on the upper floors. Many of the canonical works are here--Whistler's mother, Van Gogh's bedroom and self-portraits and "Starry Night," Monet's water lilies, Cezanne's apples, and the list goes on and on. I also came across many gripping paintings that were less familiar to me, or that I hadn't known at all. We've been here nearly two weeks, and today is the first time I've made it to a museum, so I was really hungry to take it all in. We're planning a family trip to the Louvre soon, and I'm hoping Nicholas will like the Picasso museum as well (it's fairly small, for one thing), but in general it's just trickier to get to the museums as often as we once would have.

We have a fairly restrained plan of going out for full meals, but tonight was one of them. We went to La Cagouille, which is one of the restaurants designated a true "temple of seafood" by our guidebooks, and it certainly lived up to its billing. The day's menu was handwritten on a white board (no English translations) and, except for dessert, featured nothing but seafood. They automatically bring you a bowl of tiny, delicious clams before you order your meal, and both the entrees and the plats were seafood--mainly different kinds of fish in one form or another. One appetizer was rather salty mackerel on a bed of greens, and wasn't a favorite with me, but the other appetizer was a tasty little fish (I've forgotten the name) accompanied by a little boat of truly mouth-watering sauce that all three of us enjoyed. My main course was filet de mulet (red mullet, I think) and was very good, as was Suzanne's salmon. Both of the main dishes came with wonderfully prepared vegetables--potatoes in butter in my case, and mix of potatoes, haricots vert (French green beans), carrots, and potatoes for Suzanne. Nicholas held on valiantly through the long meal to be rewarded with two scoops of glace (ice cream), one vanilla and one chocolate. The ice cream here seems to be pretty consistently fantastic--the vanilla in particular tastes less "processed" than our version, with a much richer flavor of vanilla bean. Suzanne and I (and Nicholas) shared the mille-feuille des fraises, that is, layers of puff pastry with custard and fresh strawberries. Wonderful. It was after 10 o'clock by the time we made it home from the restaurant and got Nicholas in bed.

We've been resisting, since we have to keep on schedule for Suzanne to teach a 9am class, but it's almost impossible not to shift later here. The restaurants don't start serving until 7:30 and it doesn't get dark until after 10. Little by little you get seduced into later and later bedtimes (a seduction to which I am especially susceptible anyway).

Paris Journal, Part 3

6/8 Sunday

Fresh market. A different rhythm.

Went to the neighborhood fresh market. We visited this on our first day here, and it was nice, but today we weren't so tired and we got to see more of it. The whole scene is tremendously bustling and French (but also fairly friendly), with fresh veggies, fruits, seafood, and cheese, all at good prices. Open every Sunday, Tuesday, and Friday, until 2pm. We had a lot of fun today, and came home to make a delicious lunch. I had brie with tomato and basil (basilic, I now know to call it), all perfectly fresh. I took our little Larousse electronic dictionary with me, and that came in really handy for things like figuring out that fletan is halibut. Again, there weren't too many kids around, and the vendors kept offering Nicholas free goodies. He was happy to munch an apricot and a cherry, but shied away from the shrimp, which was cooked, but still sporting its head and legs. I ate the shrimp, which was quite tasty. I'll pick some of those up soon, but tonight I'm going to try pan-frying the halibut (we don't have an oven or I'd bake it). I was pleased to manage the shopping pretty well with my limited French. The language already feels a lot more familiar to me than it did a week ago.

We're trying to find a rhythm for this longer stay, which is a lot different than a week-long vacation. We have a much longer stretch in which to see things, but we also have to handle laundry and shopping and the business of daily life, and Suzanne's summer course carries a fairly serious work load, since the schedule is quite compressed.

6/9 Monday

Today a we had a sitter for Nicholas for three hours. Her name is Julia, and she is the twenty-something daughter of Francoise, another of the Yale professors in the summer program. Suzanne went with them to the park, but used the time to get some reading (teaching prep) done, and Nicholas and Julia hit it off nicely. That's great, since we'll definitely need some more sitting so Suz can get her prep done and I can do a little work too. Today I got to go off solo for this first time. Took a book and headed up to St. Germaine, where I secured a cafe table at Le Rouquet (less famous but also less mobbed than Cafe Flore or Les Deux Magots), ordered a cafe au lait, and got some actual work done when I wasn't rubbernecking.



6/10 Tuesday

Big day today. Went on the bateau-mouche with Suzanne's class (a nice bunch). It was an exceptionally sunny afternoon, which had us broiling on the top deck--but it was nice to see all the famous sights along the Seine framed against blue sky. Suz and I took this tour last time we were here, but it really is remarkable how much you can see from the Seine. The guide books don't exaggerate when they call it the central "artery" of the city--it does somehow seem like the city's life force flows through it.

Nicholas started off grumpy and disinclined to be pleased in the morning, after not getting a great night's sleep, so he and I had a distinctly bumpy morning with much wrangling and a few melt-downs while Suzanne was off teaching. He didn't want to go the fresh market, didn't want to go on the bateau-mouche, etc. But in the event, he enjoyed the cruise a great deal, and also got a kick out of meeting Suzanne's students. By the end of the day he said, "You know daddy, you don't really need a camera. I've got a hundred pictures in my mind, and 130 sentences!" Moments like that are pretty great.

I also had some almost giddy successes with my French today, including another successful trip to the fresh market, where I was again taken for Italian. And then, even better, we went to the seafood market at Rue Daguerre (to pick up the Paella Royale, a mix of Spanish rice, shrimp, clams, mussels, etc.) and I got in an extended conversation with the woman behind the counter. She asked me quite a few questions, and as long as she didn't speak too fast (I'm not afraid to say "plus lentement, s'il vous plait," which means "more slowly, please") I was able to follow most of what she said. And I was also able to explain, in decently acceptable French, that we had been here six years ago for a one-week stay before Nicholas was born, that we had returned for a five-week stay because my wife was teaching a summer literature course at Cite Universitaire, etc. etc. She complimented me on my accent, and then launched into the familiar complaint about how Americans don't articulate their words (she thought at first that I was British). We were both clearly pleased by the conversation and she tossed in a tasty mayo sauce to go with our crevettes (shrimp).

I was so intoxicated by this success that I struck up another conversation when I came across a neighbor in the hall. She was looking for a book on the little communal bookshelf they keep there (nice touch, that) and I used the opening (Vous cherchez un bon livre, n' est-ce pas?) to get things rolling. She spoke much too quickly for me to get everything, but I told her a little about us and gathered that she has aunts and uncles in San Francisco whom she has not seen for a long time. I'm curious to know what she does for a living, since she was looking for the second volume of Proust's A la Recherche du Temps Perdu, which is not exactly light reading. She didn't compliment me on my accent, but she did think I had been living here for a while.

Paris Journal, Part 2

6/5 Thursday

Suzanne taught today, and Nicholas and I went off to Le Jardin des Tuileries. The main reason for this destination was that Nicholas wanted to go somewhere with rocks and sticks, so he could experiment with fulcrums, and so he could look for rocks to collect. Not all that many kids in evidence, except for those on class trips. No play structures, and as with the Jardin du Luxembourg there were none of those little sailboats in evidence--though they are mentioned in all the guide books, and we remember them from our last trip. All in all, it was a rather tiring expedition. We've been walking our feet off since we got here, and had an especially big day yesterday. Also, the Metro is proving to be extremely crowded almost every time we use it, and we have to use it--often changing trains a couple of times--to get to most places.

We end up putting together a quick dinner of whatever was left in the fridge or the kitchen--some bean salad, some pasta, baguette and goat cheese or butter, some fruit, etc. Nicholas was pretty excited about this "scavenger hunt" approach to dinner.

6/6 Friday

Shopping at Place d'Italie. Writing. Bistrot des Pingouins.

Suzanne and Nicholas went shopping at Place d' Italie to get mugs, an umbrella, a toy for Nicholas (promised during yesterday's tiring excursion), and some other odds and ends. I stayed home to do some reading and writing. I write to clear my mind and sharpen my wits. Even the merest jottings serve to establish some perspective and impose some organization, however minimal or haphazard. This morning I woke up burdened by a sense of the accumulation of large chunks of undigested experience. In the five days we've been here we've been on the go, scrambling to figure out the business of living in a foreign city, to get Suz up and running with her teaching, to see some sights, etc. And before we came I was pushing as hard as I could to get my Oppen manuscript to the press, finish up the academic year, write my annual reports, get ready to leave the country, etc. By now I'm feeling a pretty serious need to slow down a little, get some rest, and do some thinking of a more meditative and less hurried sort than I have managed lately. But at the same time, I also want to "make the most" of my Paris experience. That latter urge sounds benign enough, but it can turn you into one of those crazed tourists hurtling from one monument to the next if you're not careful.

We went to Pistro des Pinguoins for dinner (I successfully made a reservation by phone in advance). This place was recommended by Pudlo as a friendly, simple restaurant, and that's exactly what it was--very relaxed (though also very busy), with a strong neighborhood feel. Despite the latter, they also had menus in French and English (we looked at both, and they were the same--not different as we warned they can be at some places). We will definitely return. I was disappointed at first that there was not a range of fish offerings (I was hoping for the cod mentioned in Pudlo), meaning that I had to order salmon, which I eat pretty often back home. But my filet was moist and delicious, accompanied by very simple greens and potatoes. Struck me as a French version of down-home cooking, very satisfying. Suzanne also had salmon, baked in a fillo-like pastry, with green salad. I had escargots for an appetizer--quite tasty in an herb sauce (definitely featuring basil). These came with a special little implement perfectly sized and shaped to hold the shell as one works to prize out the snail. One snail wouldn't come out and I was happy to get a laugh from the waitress with my attempt at a small joke in French: "Cette escargot a gagne. Il reste dans la maison." Or : "This snail has won. He remains in his house.")

6/7 Saturday

Return to the Marais. Le Colimacon. Place des Vosges. BHV. Notre Dame on the weekend. The crushing crowd (la foule).

Today we made our much anticipated return to Le Marais, the district that was our home base (we stayed at Le Caron de Beaumarchais) during our week-long Paris fling before Nicholas was born (I took a picture of Nicholas and Suzanne in front of our old hotel). We got off the metro at St. Michel and walked past Notre Dame--and with the weekend crowd, there was a line to get in today. In fact, there was a fairly crushing crowd (we learned the name for this: la foule) just about everywhere we went. Still, we had fun walking the ancient and picturesque cobblestone streets (very different from the wide avenues of the neighborhood where we're staying now), even if they were full of tourists like ourselves. Walking up Rue Vielle du Temple we passed first Le Caron de Beaumarchais, then Les Philosophes (a cafe), and then Le Colimacon, our beloved little restaurant. Suzanne is planning to take her class out to dinner here, so we stopped in and found out that she could reserve a special room for the class, which would have its own waiter and an earlier than usual serving time to accommodate their schedule. The "events" person for Yale hadn't been able to set this up by phone, so stopping by proved to be worthwhile, quite aside from the pleasant shot of nostalgia. While Suz and Nicholas checked out the dining room, I made conversation with a young chef and his friend, who were having a smoke outside. My French kept the exchange limited, but I did manage to explain that we had frequented the restaurant on a visit six or seven years ago. The chef and his friend complained that the area had gotten "plus doux," that is, softer and calmer than it used to be, with too many tourists on the scene now. That reminded me that one night we had gone to the restaurant later than usual--to realize that in addition to be a charming neighborhood restaurant it had a thriving gay scene.

Placed des Vosges was full of tourists too, but still possessed its remembered stately beauty. After so much negotiating of narrow, crowded streets, Nicholas was thrilled to be able to run free for a bit. We had bubble-blowing paraphernalia, so he chased bubbles like a happy fool.

Heading back, we were getting pretty tired, and were also in need of a bathroom. Here and there they have some little public toilet cabins, but the one in this area was broken, so we were happy to find out that the big bargain department-store BHV, near Hotel de Ville, had rest rooms on the fifth floor. We were also pleased to find an eatery, also on the fifth floor, where we could get double scoops (deux boules) of ice cream for 2 euros, rather than having to pay three times as much at one of the chic local cafes. That recharged our batteries enough for the ride back home, or rather to Place Denfert Rochereau, where we sought out the sushi restaurant on Rue Daguerre, as we had promised Nicholas we would. The sushi was just okay, but the food was relatively inexpensive, and N. chowed down on his California roll until he was nicely sated. It was good to get a solid meal after another big day of walking and metro-riding, and even more so because we had to spend a foot-weary, belly-grumbling half hour waiting for the restaurant to open at 7 o'clock, which seems to be the earliest possible serving time around these parts.