Paris is more than a city. It is a state of mind, an aspiration. Though it glorifies the military, it remains feminine and beguiling. Its heroes moved effortlessly from triumphs on the battlefield to triumphs in the boudoir. The very stones of Paris seem redolent of the dreams and ecstasies of past lovers, and of their frustrations, follies and pains. Heloise and Abelard loved and suffered here.
We had come to perform two simple tasks: sitting in judgment over wine and food
In many respects, alas, contemporary Paris has fallen a long way from romance. Everyone has stories of rubbish, dirt and rats. The days when bon chic, bon genre set the tone for the Grands Boulevards are long gone. Today, the scruffiness is enhanced by McDonald’s and Starbucks. The very crimes lack grandeur. Several of the banlieues have been overrun by squalor and violence, while the cops only patrol them in armoured vehicles.
Comments
Join the debate for just $5 for 3 months
Be part of the conversation with other Spectator readers by getting your first three months for $5.
UNLOCK ACCESS Just $5 for 3 monthsAlready a subscriber? Log in