Reflections on: Paris

I recently went to Paris to explore the city and visit two friends, one called Marc, one called Clara, both lovely souls.

Clara is living in Paris for a few months and she fortunately knew someone who has this beautiful flat that has the rare addition of a spare room. They were kind enough to let me stay there and so I got to merge into the lifestyle for a few short days - at least, as much as I could given almost everyone almost instantly recognised me as English before I’d even opened my mouth.

Whilst I was out there, I was reading Phillip Pullman’s The Secret Commonwealth, which strangely turned out to be the perfect book for the holiday. I’ve read a fair few of Pullman’s books over the last year and it’s clear that this one was his love letter to the arts and to the importance of trusting something that you can’t fully understand or even see.

The Arts

It was interesting to read this particular book because Paris is famously known as the most romantic city in the world, but it wasn’t love that stood out to me, it was expression, it was the joy of art. Art in Paris is not an extra, it is essential. That first hit me when I was in Clara’s flat and walked through a corridor stacked from floor to ceiling with books that led to my room, where I found some beautiful fresh flowers that had been put in a little vase for me (which is, upon reflection, a form of love in itself).

That realisation then engulfed me when Marc took me to a bookstore called Shakespeare & Company. There was a queue and I stood there not so patiently, wondering why Marc was making me wait in what was bound to be a tourist trap. “Who queues for a bookstore just because it has the name Shakespeare on it?”, I thought, and silently judged those who were spending their time doing just that. When I got to the front of the queue, I saw a sign informing people that we weren’t allowed to take photos, as a show of respect to other visitors. Bit weird, but okay.

Then I went in. I have never wanted to take a photo so much in my life. It was so beautiful in there, books lining the walls and dividing the room, people meandering and flicking through pages, tiny rooms pocketed away into the crevices. This was a universe unto itself and I couldn’t wait to explore, but I also didn’t want to leave the space I was in.

After finding a pretty little book to buy - because how can you go to a beautiful bookstore and not buy a book, even if you have a never-ending pile at home? - I walked up the quaint, exposed wooden steps that rose to the mezzanine above. There were little chairs, sofas and pillowed benches dotted around for anyone to just sit and enjoy the surroundings or read any one of the hundreds of frail old books. Then Marc pointed out a hideaway inside of this hideaway where, tucked away in the corner, was a stand up piano ready to be played quietly by anyone brave enough to do so.

I left that store one book richer and full of an additional million joules of energy. I couldn’t stop rambling away to Marc, thanking him for taking me there and telling him how wonderful it was even though he’d already been there plenty of times before.

What became abundantly clear to me when I finally slowed down is that a life without art, without expression, without shared experiences, is no life at all. I’ve always expected myself to go down a more typically academic route with my career and life, but now that expectation has started to wither away as I begin to learn what enables me to be the most me.

The Unknown

And that takes me to the second part of Phillip Pullman’s love letter, the importance of trusting something that you can’t fully understand or even see.

I’m going through one of those growing pains phases of life right now. I’m planning on moving to Germany for a year starting in Summer 2024 and whilst that’s exciting for a whole bunch of reasons, it takes me away from my current relationships when I can feel lonely as it is and puts a lot of things on hold when I already feel behind sometimes. I’m doing some therapy and a whole bunch of self-reflection that is helping me to understand myself better than ever before and to uncover parts of myself that I have previously suppressed, but that’s emotionally taxing in a whole heap of ways.

It’s interesting how sometimes even the things that we want can be painful. I suppose the struggle is working out whether what we want is worth the pain, when we only have limited information. But if we knew how something would turn out, where would the excitement be?

Wherever I look, all I can see is uncertainty for the next period of my life. That being said, I am in control of one, maybe two things. The first is the decision to make changes in my life; I know that where I am now isn’t where I want to stay and that I can build a life that better enables me to be the most me.

The second thing I have control over is in which direction I take my next step. That’s a bit daunting when I’ve so far lived my life in black and white where there’s only one right decision. But maybe that’s not so true. Maybe the uncertainty I face is a sea of correct decisions and just by choosing to get in the boat, whether at point A or Z on the beach, the currents of life will take me where I need to go. I just need to get in the boat, set sail and finally let go of the control that I never really had in the first place.

This general idea - the idea of pushing ever-forward in the face of uncertainty, just trying to make the next best decision and trusting that things will work out in the end - is arguably the most important concept that takes place within the pages of The Secret Commonwealth. It’s also probably what I need to do right now, but that’s easier for a character in a fictional world than an atheist in the real one. That’s not to say it’s impossible. Just that I’ve got another topic to add to my therapy sessions.

So how does this all link in with Paris? I guess it doesn’t really, but the city is all about expression of one kind or another and this is a big part of what I needed to express.

The Places

I hope that what I’ve written above helped you in some personal way and now I’m going to finish off by sharing some more practical support in the form of recommendations of places to visit if you ever find yourself lucky enough to visit Paris.

Places I visited that I’d recommend (no particular order)

• Shakespeare & Company (obviously)

• Basilique du Sacré-Coeur de Montmartre

• Halle Saint Pierre

• Luxembourg Gardens

• Saint-Chapelle

• Musée D’Orsay

• Eiffel Tower

• Musée L’Orangerie

• Panthéon

• Saint Étienne-Du-Mont

• Palais Garnier

• Art Palace

Places I didn’t get to visit

• Le Louvre (I had it booked, but they were striking on that day)

• Palace of Versailles

• Musée Rodin

• National Natural History Museum

• Musée Marmottan Monet

• Catacombs

• Petit Palais

And there’s still a whole lot more to explore in Paris. It really is a great city, very much worth visiting if you can.