Madame la Guillotine

Since I'm getting up ridiculously early tomorrow, I didn't have time to go out like I normally would on a Friday night. I also didn't really feel like it; as I said before, I haven't been in the best of moods. But also as I said, Paris always cheers me up.

Whenever I need my spirits lifted I visit the Place de la Concorde, the center of activity during the French Revolution. All right, it sounds strange that it cheers me up to go visit the place where thousands of people were beheaded...but what can I say, vive la Revolution! Today, sadly, there is no more guillotine. Have I talked about this before? I feel like I have. Anyway, there are fountains and a giant Egyptian obelisk.

My original plan was to go to the Louvre, which is free for students on Friday nights, then walk over to the Bastille opera (which is a long way away). However, I managed to forget all 4 of my student ID cards, having changed both my jacket and purse before going out. So I wandered to the Place de la Concorde instead.

It was raining a tiny bit, a cold rain with big drops, but not many. Few tourists were around, so I got a nice opportunity to enjoy the square in peace. Aside from the major roads running through it, of course. Anyway, I sat under the obelisk facing down the Champs Elysees. It runs straight from the Place de la Concorde to the Arc de Triomphe and beyond; from where I sat I was directly in line with the arch, probably a mile or so away. Street lamps dot the boulevard all the way down, and in the rain their lights glittered on the pavement and passing cars. (Incidentally, the pavement was not shining like silver, but only twinkling.)

So I sat there watching the cars and thinking about how lucky I was to be able to connect to such a public place. I tried to imagine what it might've looked like during the Revolution; there would have been no Arc de Triomphe, no searchlight from the Eiffel Tower which now sits just across the river, no boulevard leading to la Madeleine. I would have been sitting on the blood-stained ground under the guillotine rather than the slightly wet stones around the obelisk. There might have been one of those infamous old crones who cut locks of hair from the victims and braided them together as souvenirs.

This area is where Paris started. Celtic (Frankish) tribes settled that land on either side of the islands, then the Romans built their own city that was later threated by invading Vikings. Finally Ste Genevieve stopped what would be the last attack for a thousand years when she convinced the Huns to turn away from Paris. (She sent them into Normandy, I believe - nice of her.) It was the center of political activity for centuries after that, and is still to this day a symbol of the French Republic.

The Louvre used to be the palace of the French monarchs, and the Concorde is right at the opening of the Tuileries, the gardens of the palace. By the time of the Revolution, the Louvre had been abandoned by the monarchy and was little more than a glorious, dilapidated shell. But it was still indicative of all the abuses the monarchy had heaped upon its people - where else better to put the guillotine than where the eyes of the Louvre palace could watch its followers meet their death?

But I was more reminded of a moment I had in Istanbul two years ago: it was nighttime and a friend and I walked together to the Blue Mosque. At night the building is magnificently lit, and one can still wander the gardens. We stopped right in front of the mosque, under a light canopy of plants, and looked at the moon. It was full and perfectly placed between the two columns of minerettes. The Hagia Sofia rose behind us, not as delicate or overtly beautiful as the Blue Mosque, but more majestic.

That scene and the one I was looking at in the Place de la Concorde seem to me the most peaceful and memorable I have ever witnessed. It all made me want to make the call I shouldn't have made, but I had to talk to somebody.

So I called Kerry, because I love her more. We had a lovely chat and I eventually left the square to walk toward the Bastille. I never made it there, remembering I'm going to Brussels tomorrow and will do plenty of walking, but I still had an amazing night.