The Hermetic Closure of Coffins

So for the last week or so I have been obsessing over Napoleon. Yes, it is a constant in my life to love the man, but every once in a while I get a little more focused. Sophomore year it was his exile and time in St. Helena that fascinated me, then I was into his childhood and time at school, and now, his tomb.

I wrote about my first experience at the tomb in August, and since I have been back 3 times. So when we had to pick a topic for our research paper in Paris Monuments and Political Power, I naturally chose Les Invalides. For the last week I have been reading constantly about the tomb, its construction and maybe most importantly, about Napoleon's dead body.

When they retrieved his body from St. Helena, 20 years after his death to bring it back to Paris, he was in almost perfect condition. He was within 4 caskets, like a little Russian nesting doll (oh Russia...sorry to bring it up little guy). I found an article from The British Medical Journal that describes his corpse:

The head of the conqueror rested on a pillow. The large head with the lofty brow was seen covered with a yellowish, hard and very adherant integuments. Under the eyelids could be seen the eyeballs, which had lost little of their volume and shape. Some hairs were still seen at the free edge of the eyelids...The hands showed no change; "the skin seemed to have preserved that particular colour which only belongs to that which has life."

Amazing. The best part about the article is that it starts out "In the lives of saints it is often stated that the body was found incorrupt long after death." They talk about that for a minute then say Napoleon was in great condition. QED, n'est pas? The article tell of a period of history when they used to open up his 6 caskets once a year (August 15-his birthday) and people could take a peek. WHICH IS MY DREAM. Here's a little from M. Jean Richepin:

The General took us down into the crypt...My father took me into his arms, raised me into the air and I saw the Emperor. I have never forgotten that sight. I was eleven years old. What is seen at that age makes a deep impression and nothing can remove from my brain that extraordinary image: the eyes closed, the beard slightly grown, the face of the whiteness of marble, on which spread some yellow spots which seemed bronze. When there mingle in my memory that face of wax, showing some signs of decomposition which I have seen, those eyes which I have seen, I see the Emperor truly as if I had known him. -From a lecture on 25 Janvier 1909

I was poking around some other essays and articles and found descriptions of the kings corpses when they exhumed them from St-Denis during the Revolution (down with the monarchy! get rid of their dead bodies!). It is funny because the better the king, the better he was preserved. Apparently smell has a lot to do with it too. Henry IV was in good condition, Louis XIV was okay, and "Louis XV had blanched skin, a violet nose and buttocks as red as a newborn's."

Wine in Baby Bottles and Fondue

This post is about exactly what it sounds like. A fondue restaurant where the wine is served in baby bottles.

But first a wonderful day at Versailles. We awoke at my house and I had to sing, yell and jump on my friend Cassandra to get her off the couch and so she would come with us. My friend Bailey was staying with me too, and we made our way to the train station where the amazing Professor Christina Von Koehler was waiting with a head full of knowledge about the place and with free train tickets from NYU Paris!

I didn't think I could learn so much about Versailles by not even going in the house, but I should have known anything is possible with Christina. We simply toured the gardens. I learned why certain fountain are in certain places, the mythology behind them and whether or not they were supposed to make for a fertile night in the rooms of the palace that overlooked them (for example). We visited Marie Antionette's little fairytale village, and of course everyone was more amused by the piggies, sheepies and little-guy goats than by the rest of the compound (This is why homeless people with pets always get us too).

I had a cup of hot chocolate that was just chocolate that was hot. If I didn't drink it fast enough the top would solidify and I would have to eat the skin. Yum. Later I saw dragon-man statue with the biggest and pointiest nipples at all of Versailles, but then I thought back to drinking that hot chocolate and came to rival him.

Anyway it was an beautiful day full of education for fun (always an easier way to learn) and about 6:30 we made our way back on the train, with plans of going to the fondue and baby bottle restaurant.

The place was about 10 feet across and not very deep, the ladies had to sit on the inside because the only way to get to the seats against the wall was to climb over the table (and I guess guys are too heavy?). Our waiter hates the stupid young people who frequent the place and he let's you know. He and the other waiter repeatedly made fun of my bow-tie and I just happen to sit in the seat where he put down everything on the table. He would smack me in the head with the bread basket, with the bowl of potatoes, and with his elbows. I loved every minute of it. That guy stuck to his character, and I could tell underneath he was smiling.

The food was not great, I mean it was basic meat and cheese fondue. Fondue is always about the experience anyway, and the baby bottles made the night what it was. I could not think of better way to drink red wine. I am trying to stop chewing my nails, so I needed something to satiate my oral fixation. Though they cut bigger holes in the nipple (!?) and it did make it go down fast, not to mention baby bottles are not tiny. By the time we left we were all in a jovial mood and went off to dance and continue the festivities...

Because I Have No Camera...

So the last few days have been quite nice, low-key but full of learning and camaraderie. Our friend Grayson happened to be staying with us before she heads off to India for a few months. My friend Sasha who is also studying here is a good friend of Grayson's (as well as an amazing photographer). She said I could post some of her pictures, and I think they perfectly capture the simple beauty of the last few days.

Grayson made us a beautiful meal of tomato, mozzarella and basil salad, toasted baguette with goat cheese, honey and raisins and then goat cheese and spinach wrapped with fried eggplant. Amazing.

View of my room from the living room.

The next day started at 11am at my apartment, where I made omelettes for everyone. I've learned how to make the perfect french style omelette and I am very proud of it, I've always found eggs hard to get just right. Sasha and I had our Paris Monuments and Political Power class at 1pm, but Thursdays we visit monuments, and this time it was the Pantheon. The buiding is right around the corner from my house, maybe 5 minutes walk. It's been a church, then secular temple devoted to the great men of France, then a church again, then secular, too many times to count (look up pictures of the building, I'm not going to taint this post with anything other than Sasha's amazing photos). We headed there at about 1pm.

That hand is that of amazing Christina Von Koehler, the smartest professor in all of Paris. And though I can't be sure, she looks as though she has the softest skin in the city as well.

View of our apartment from the courtyard

That night was more of the same, wine and talk and general easy good time. Then Benj, Molly and Grayson headed off to Amsterdam! What fun. And since I know you now want to see more of Sasha's photos of Paris, her blog is 'Hour of Departure' linked there on the right.

Eiffel with an E

Mondays and Tuesdays I have class starting at 9am, then two strange breaks between my three classes of the day. I end up not leaving our beautiful little campus until 7:45pm, after my last class on those evenings.

But I don't mind walking through the Passy neighborhood at night. Each week I've noticed it getting darker and colder, and it's coming out of those classes at that time of day and weather that reminds me that winter is coming. I like winter.

BUT HERE IS MY FAVORITE PART. The bridge that I either ride my bike or take the metro over crosses the Seine very close to la Tour Eiffel. And at 8pm when I am crossing, they light her up, and it is a spectacular show. It is flashy (literally blinking) and tacky and JUST RIGHT. It also happens to be my favorite part of that tower.

You know who it reminds me of?

Which is why I love it.