Paris Journal 2002

In the tiny Square G. Pierné near the Institute de France, benches look like open books.

These images, above and below, were taken at night at the Place de la Sorbonne while Tom had dessert at an outdoor café.  The smart digital camera makes it look like this is daytime.

Something struck me about this photo: it is not at all unusual for France, but it would be unusual for the U.S.  Here, in France, intellectuals are still admired and can even be elected to public office.  But back home in the U.S., an intellectual who had written books on philosophy would have to play that down in order to be elected even as dogcatcher.  This concept goes a long way toward explaining the popular appeal of George W. Bush.

Getting back to French intellectuals, our walks along the Seine and in the vicinity of the Boulevard St. Germain often take us by the Institute de France.  This stately left bank building was constructed in 1688 as a result of a generous legacy from Cardinal Mazarin, who died in 1661.  It originally housed a college of 60 scholars from the various provinces of France.  Also included in the building was the Cardinal's personal library, a fact that is duly noted on a plaque near the entrance.

Since 1806, the building has been home to the Institute which includes the French Academy and the Academies of Inscriptions and Belles Lettres, Science, Fine Arts, and Moral and Political Sciences.

The French Academy is made up of 40 intellectuals, also known as the "immortals."  What do they do?  They have very serious meetings and they preside over the production of the Dictionary of the French Language.

Another place where intellectuals gather is, of course, the Sorbonne and its environs.   One evening, Tom and I had an atrocious dinner near there at Les Fountaines, a restaurant that was inexplicably highly rated by Zagats.  It was located on rue Soufflot, the street that connects the Panthéon with the Luxembourg Gardens.  We were smart enough not to order dessert there, and since we could not eat much of the grotesque dinner we'd been served, we walked up to the Place de la Sorbonne to find an outdoor café where Tom could order ice cream. 

While he ate and I sipped red wine, we watched the late night strollers, which of course include inebriated intellectuals.  In this neighborhood, there have been inebriated intellectuals wandering the streets every night since the year 1200-something.    We spotted a young one, looking like he must sleep in the street as often as not.  He approached a young Asian man.  We suspected that he was asking the man for a few coins, but no.  He asked for, and received, a sheet of paper on which to write.  Voilà!  La Sorbonne.

In reality, the Sorbonne started out with only 16 students, all poor, who wanted to study theology in 1253.  A Parisian named Robert of Sorbon agreed to teach them.   The King, Saint Louis, okayed the idea.

When you visit this neighborhood, we suggest you avoid Les Fountaines and instead find rue de Lanneau, situated between the Panthéon and the Seine.  On this charming, narrow little street of 16th-century houses is a restaurant called Le Petit Prince de Paris.  It's a winner, it isn't very expensive, and it's open seven days a week, even in August.