When one talks about Montmartre, one talks of the artists that use to populate the quarter and the , one talks of the Sacré-Cœur, one talks of the movie Amélie, one talks of the Moulin Rouge. Curiously, not many people talks about the one museum in the area that opens daily till 2am. Surely there must be enough people that visit the place to keep it going for so many years (14!).
In my time in Paris, I’ve traced the footsteps of some of the artists through the cobblestones of the hill, admired the grandeur of the basilica which, from its dome, one can see Paris in 360°, watched Audrey Tautou in her quirky role as Ms Poulain, but never have I take a peek into the can-can dancing world of Moulin Rouge. For one, the price is a bit too steep for my pocket, and secondly, it is strictly a tourist-trap. As for the not-often-mentioned museum, someone may have got curious once upon a time…
I have previously introduced Sainte Geneviève, the patron saint of Paris. Today, we shall talk about Saint Denis, a martyr who was Bishop of Paris a long long time ago and the patron saint of France (how’s that for a trump card?). And to make sense of the story of this headless saint, we should also talk about Montmartre.
Saint Denis was said to have been beheaded at Montmartre (giving rise to this name that means “mountain of the martyr” – but on all accounts, there are 2 other possibilities on how Montmartre came to be known as what it is called today) but a devout bishop that he was, it didn’t stop him from continuing to perform his duty to the God. He picked his head up and started walking to the north, all the while preaching a sermon as it should (I figure that must be one of the miracles to propel forth his beatification) until he came to a spot where he decided it would be his final resting place.
A cathedral/basilica bearing his name stands today at that spot, and he has plenty of royal companies in burial, as all but three French kings have their final resting places here. I still haven’t visited the cathedral, and if you’re wondering where I find the statue above, well, it’s from the left portal of the west end of Notre Dame Cathedral.
You know I’m always on the look out for nice pastries. However, it is also prudent that I don’t overdo it. As of present, I seem to be stepping in a pâtisserie about once every fortnight and for the intermittent weeks, perhaps a chocolaterie every second fortnight?
Arnaud Delmontel is a bit out of the way and quite a chance discovery. I had trodded my way to Montmartre in search of a small shop where I’ve previously bought some lovely matcha madeleine but unfortunately the shop is currently closed for its congé annuel. However, right across the street is Delmontel and its cakes on display just called out to me. Like moth to a light, I fluttered my way over and bought les petits gateaux for myself and Anne. The verdict? Mine was rich an creamy but Anne’s was a tad dry on the outside. A place to revisit when I’m in the area again next but perhaps not one to deliberately journey out for.
Sainte Geneviève is the patron saint of Paris and standing really really tall on Pont de la Tournelle over River Seine is a statue of this wise and brave woman (who was said to have saved Paris from the plunders of Attila the Hun and performed numerous other miracles for the people of Paris), protecting the young Paris (depicted as a young girl here – holding a ship used by the Parisii tribe?) from all that sought to cause her harm.
This iconography is similar to the stained window of Église St-Pierre de Montmartre (photo on Flickr) which would quite ambiguously tells you it is Paris that Sainte Geneviève is looking out for. In this creation, Paris is holding Notre Dame Cathedral in her hands. Of course, note that Notre Dame wasn’t built until several decades following the death (and canonisation) of Sainte Geneviève, the representation at Pont de la Tournelle would probably be a more accurate depiction. But, what do I know? I am no historian.
Many years ago, Marcel Aymé wrote a short story called Le Passe-Muraille (The man who walks through the wall) and it became of one his most famous works. Set in Montmartre, at rue Norvins, where Aymé lived, the protagonist Dutilleul found himself with most unusual talent for walking through walls but later accidentally “cured” himself and was stuck in a wall following a late night rendezvous. Poor guy had no one but the painter Eugene Paul who occasionally sang, accompanied by a guitar, as consolation. (Read the translated work here.)
Today, at the corner of rue Norvins, sits a bronze sculpture to honour Aymé and this short story of his. It is a poetic tribute, for the location commemorates not only where Dutilleul found himself imprisoned for life, but also the writer himself living in the building just adjacent to the wall. Visitors today seem to believe that rubbing the hand of the sculpture would bring good fortune. The proof – shiny and sparkling hand of the bronze figure. ;)
Choosing a single photo for today is tricky, since I was on a walking tour of Montmartre and saw plenty that are interesting or amusing. I guess that means I need to set up a separate album at some stage. (I am already terribly slow in updating the blog, ooops.) For now though, one from among the firsts of the day – wedding photoshoot at the hill of Montmartre. The poor girl was coooooold, and in between shots, huddled enveloped within a huge furry jacket.
It is not uncommon to see wedding photoshoot around Paris. By the Eiffel Tower, next to fountains of Place de la Concorde, along Champs-Élysées… What is rather curious though, is that usually the couples are either Japanese or Chinese. I have not yet seen any French ones doing the same. Perhaps it has got to do with Asian tendency for establishing an entire album of wedding photo ahead of the big day. If French don’t do that, then it goes without saying they won’t have time to run around the city for posed photos on the wedding day itself.
Cité U is my new home in Paris. A campus with numerous buildings to house students and researchers alike, I guess you can say I am now experiencing a delayed “student life”. I’ve been fortunate I’ve always live in houses, sharing with cousins and/or friends, regardless when I was either an undergrad or a postgrad. Funny now that I have a job, I find myself in a campus environment instead. While the laundrette may be communal, I do have my own studio apartment equipped with kitchen and en suite bathroom. Little mercies of life ;)
The campus is vast, and I dropped by Maison Internationale (i.e. the main reception building) earlier today for a bank appointment (yes, in France, you need an appointment to see someone to open a bank account). Looking out the glass door to the back, I spotted the Church of Sacré-Cœur, which is not to be confused with the famous Basilica of Sacré-Cœur on the hill of Montmartre. Quite a pretty little thing, don’t you agree? I must trek over to have a visit sometimes.
