June 1st--Recalling a Sunday in Paris

Dear Mother,

Yesterday, Sunday, May 30th, we decided to be true to our pre-Anabaptist ancestors and attend Mass. Perhaps two months ago, I had heard an organ recital in Vancouver performed by an organist from Paris and I wanted to hear him play on ‘his’ own organ in his church. So we headed downtown to the 5th Arrondissement, south of the River Seine and basically across the square from the Panthéon, toward the southern edge of the Latin Quarter and near the Sorbonne. We left a bit later than was wise, forgetting that the métros do not run quite as frequently on a Sunday. However, we never had to wait more than five minutes and found the church, rather high on a little hill that once surprised me in the 1970s when I first encountered it, since the rest of the area is so flat.

Saint-Étienne-du-Mont (St Stephen on the Mount/hill) had more attendees than expected, but we got seats toward the front, just outside the roped off area (meant to keep visitors away from people wishing to pray during the week). We could see just about everything, and the speaker system was pretty good for my working ear. People sang when appropriate, so it seemed that the people were Parisian and not tourists. The young woman leading singing was able to conduct from the front, and worked well with the organist, who was playing from the far back of the church up in the balcony, watching her by mirror.

I also noticed that some people knelt at certain times (others remained standing), kneeling on the cold stone floor, whether in dress pants, dress/skirt, or nylons (with skirt above the knees). The other thing that really impressed me was that the Mass was finished at 11:00 sharp—none of this meandering all over the place with lengthy warmup remarks or endless singing. Wish our church would take note. My students would occasionally grant me an additional 30 seconds for my lectures, but we had to vacate the room on schedule. If only my church would be like that . . . .

The organist is a great improviser, so I enjoyed hearing him take one of the chants sung during the Trinity Sunday service and improvise all sorts of accompaniment around it. At the end of the service, he improvised for an extended period of time. We stayed to listen, as did a couple ahead of us to the left. Afterwards, I took a few photos but was soon asked to leave so that the church could close for a few hours, except for the family which had requested baptism for their newborn.

Inside the church, I was fascinated by two elaborate stone staircases which wound their way up two pillars, apparently leading to some sort of walkway around the choir screen and walls.  I tried to imagine what it would be like to have singers and/or instrumentalists stationed on the stairways and on the narrow walkways around the choir, performing from high in the air, sending music out into the open spaces.  I certainly wished I could get permission to go up there to look around and photograph, but it will never happen.

I knew there would not be much time before the church would be closed for noon, so I quickly looked at the choir area, which is close to the old altar.  In the good old days, this would have been more or less closed off for the monks and priests (and it was closed to me since someone was praying there).  In earlier eras, the laity could basically listen in on the service, through the screen.  Today, a temporary altar has been moved out into the nave proper, where everybody can see what is happening, ordinary people can now sit in the choir stalls or on the benches between the facing choir stalls (all of which were filled), and the priest is now out with the people, in front of the choir area.  Laity helped to serve communion bread, reminding me of how Vatican II has changed things during my lifetime.  Of course many Catholics now await a Vatican III.

Once they closed the church, we walked around in the district. Janice was delighted to find a restaurant recommended by Veronica. Since it is never open for lunch, we had to settle with a photo, but it did look intriguing, very small, possibly with additional rooms below or in the back.

We soon settled on a small restaurant, sitting inside because of the threat of rain and the cold wind which was chilling Janice to the bone.  Even inside also proved to be rather airy because all of the front windows were wide open, floor to ceiling.  There was plenty of light from the front, but by comparison, the inside was rather darker than were the tables outside.  Some students were having intense student-like conversations over their meal, which was nice to see.

After a salad lunch, we embarked on a leisurely lengthy walk over to the west end of the Jardin des Tuileries (west end of the grounds at the Louvre) to find Janice’s favourite gardening bookstore. On the way, we came upon a book market featuring many book dealers under tents. My favourite part was the stretch of boxes where books were sold by weight, 5 Euros/kilogram. Those books were hopelessly unorganized but it would likely be well worth spending a few hours of rummaging time, which we felt we didn't really have.

Shortly after that, we saw in the distance quite a few in-line skaters go through an intersection.  After a while I realized they were still going through and that there may have been several hundred roller skaters going as a group through the streets of Paris, complete with police escorts. I wasn't close enough to get a good picture (wrong lens on the camera) but it looked nice to see the informality of the happy skaters against the very form background of elegant stone buildings and stately trees.

I was interested in a kiosk advertising Radio Classique, FM 101, my favourite station.  I think it may also be available on the internet so I will have to look for it when we get home.

We soon resumed our walk towards the afternoon's goal, the Librairie des Jardins (garden bookstore). This bookstore is located under an elevated formal park which was designed and constructed by one of the Louis kings during the 1600s. The bookstore is Janice's favourite, so this is becoming an annual pilgrimage for her.

While Janice perused the many books, I mostly stayed outside, observing the many visitors and locals, and watching birds deal with the very strong winds. There was some sort of project underway that afternoon, something like “Lire et faire lire” (we might say something like 'read and encourage reading'). They had all sorts of people stationed around, here and there, identified by white helium-filled balloons. Small groups of people would then gather, or even just a single person, and listen intently to the person give a very dramatic and expressive reading of some excerpt. Children would sit and hear stories, one guy read and then sang some song associated with the story, all in a very folks manner. To me, it was yet another illustration of how the French take their cultural life seriously and attempt to keep it alive, and one thing they still treasure is reading books.

There was even a reader in front of Janice's book store.

As the rain clouds continued to gather, we decided to head home. Janice bought perhaps six gardening books and started reading as soon as we sat down on the métro. We got back, took a short rest, went out with Neal and Janie for a celebratory dinner (tomorrow's blog).  After the meal, we were most willing to have another 45-minute walk back to let things settle a bit. The gals then turned in but Neal and I watched France play Tunisia for another pre-World Cup warm up game (1-1), which was hardly the result France wanted.  The way France played, they won't make it to the second round.  I've seen more imaginative soccer played in Parisian parks by young energetic teenagers, steroid-free. 

Today (Monday)  may not produce anything blogable. Janice has 10 stacks of books waiting for me to apply tape, cards, card pockets and call numbers.  It is hard to imagine that we will be flying back home a week from now. I have no idea where the time went, but I do seem to have an impressive pile of photographs needing attention this winter.

With love from us both, Evan.