Thursday, November 28, 2013

The Invention of Paris: A History in Footsteps

Eric Hazan. 2010 (November 2013) 

  This book is not for everyone, but for those interested in revolutionary history or the way that social forces shape, and are shaped by, urban geography, this is wonderful. Hazan’s rich and detailed knowledge of the history of Paris gives the reader a deep understanding of how a city develops, how each neighbourhood keeps (or doesn’t keep) its unique character and social context. Hazan describes, for example, the impact of diverse factors such as street lighting, the royal promenade, the need for railways to find a level access to the city (I always wondered why the Gare du Nord and the Gare de l'Est were so close), and sales tax policy.
  The book is in three main parts that are not linked to each other except by reference to the same regions. It seems to be a collection of essays by Hazan on different themes relating to Paris. The longest section describes each arrondissment, and the next situates the nineteenth century revolutions in specific parts of Paris. The third reflects on the literary and visual heritage of the city. Each has a different appeal, although I found the first two of greatest interest.
  Especially rich is Hazan’s frequent quotation of the descriptions by social and literary figures of the melieu in which they lived and worked. They add imagery and a sense of the atmosphere (very dark and dirty in most of the city until the twentieth century) that will certainly colour my own appreciation of Paris when I next visit or read about the city.
  This isn’t a tourist guide, although it provides a street-by-street view of many neighbourhoods that would illuminate many walks through the city. Reading it, I found many sections were much easier to follow with Google maps handy, so I could search for the street references. Even better, I could go into Street View, and look at the intersections or lanes that he describes.
  Hazan writes from the perspective of a social revolutionary, so his acidic comments on the bourgeoisie of the nineteenth century or the governments of the most recent decades are strong and entertaining. (He refuses to call the Centre Pompidou by its name, preferring to call it the Centre Beaubourg after the neighbourhood that was flattened to build it.) If you are sympathetic to his point of view, this will add an entertaining quirkiness to his text – otherwise, it will likely come across as opinionated and irritating. Tant pis, as the French say. I spent many pleasurable evenings reading through the book and thinking about the city.