Dream House, Museum, Spa1 - cct335-w11

discover there, where our muscles dive down and throw out their twisted roots
and breathe the air of the new life, the garden in which as a child we used to play.
There is no need to rravel in order to see it again; we must dig down inwardly to
discover it. What once covered the earth is no longer upon it but beneath; a mere
excursion does not suffice for a visit to the dead city-excavation is necessary
also." These words run counter to the ~unction to revisit the sites of one's
childhood. And they lose not a whit of their sense when taken as a critique of the
mimoire volontaire. Marcel Proust, Le COti de GumnanteJ (Paris, 1920), vol. 1,
p.82. 211
[K9,IJ
Linking of Proust's oeuvre to the work of Baudelaire: "One of the masterpieces
of French literature- Sylvie, by Gerard de Nerval-like the Mimoim d'outre­
lombe (of Chateaubriand) ... , contains a sensation of the same character as the
savor of the madeleine.... And finally, in Baudelaire, these reminiscences are still
more frequent and obviously less incidental and therefore, in my opinion, deci­
sive. Here it is the poet himself who, with more variety and more indolence,
purposely seeks in the odor of a woman's hair or her breast, for example, inspir­
ing resemblances which shall evoke for him 'the canopy of overarching sky' and
'a harbor filled with masts and sails! I was going to endeavor to recall the poems
of Baudelaire which are based in similar manner on a transferred sensation, in
order definitely to place myself again in line with such a noble literary heritage
and reassure myself that the work I was now about to Wldenake without any
further hesitation was worth the effort I was going to devote to it, when I reached
the foot of the stairs ... and suddenly found myself ... i.n the midst of a fete."
Marcel Proust, Le 'ftmPJ retrouui (Paris (1927)), vol. 2, pp. 82-83.:111
[K9,2]
" Man is himself, is man , only at the surface. Wt the skin , dissect: here begin the
machines. It is thell yo u lose yourself in un inexplicable substance. something alien .
to everything you know, and which is nonetheless the essential. " Paul Valery,
CCl hier B. 1910 (Paris (1930)), PI" 39-40.
{K9,3]
Dream city of Na polt:Oll I: "Napoleon , who originally had wanled to eroct the Arc
{Ie Triomphe somewhere insitle the cit y, like the disappointiJlg first efforlmad e at
Ihe Place du Ca rOllssel , let himself be persuaded by Fontaine to slart cOIl~ tru c tion
west of the city, where a largc tract of land walS al his disposal, 011 an imperial Paris
thai woultl surpass the royal city. Versailles included . Betweell the s ummit of the
Avenue des Champs-Elysees ami the Scine •. . . on the plaleau where today the
Trocadcro stallt.iil, was to be huilt , ' '''illl palaccs for t"'dve kings and tlu~ ir reti­
niles.' . .. ' not onl y thc Illus t heautiful cily t.hat evt;ll· was, 1,111 t1lt~ lIlust hcuutiful
city that ever could be.' The Arc {Ie Triomphe was cont!eh'cd lI iI the first edifice of
this dty. " Fritz Stahl. Ptlris (Herlin d 929» . pp . 27- 28.
[K9a,I}
L
[Dream House, Museum, Spa1
The genteel variant of the dream house. The entrance to the panorama of
Gropius is described as follows: "One enters a room decorated in the style of
Herculaneum; at its center the passerby is drawn for a moment to a basin inlaid
with shells, in which a small fountain is plashing. Straight ahead, a little ftight of
stairs leads to a cheerful reading room where some volumes are displayed-nota­
bly, a collection of books designed to acquaint foreigners with the royal resi­
dence." Erich Stenger, Dagua-m Diorama in Ba-lin (Berlin, 1925), pp. 24-25.
Bulwer<-Lyttom's novel, When did the excavations begin? Foyers of casinos, and
the like, belong to this elegant variant of the dream house. Why a fountain in a
covered space is conducive to daydreaming has yet to be explained. But in order
to gauge the shudder of dread and exaltation that might have come over the idle
visitor who stepped across this threshold, it must be remembered that the discov­
ery of Pompeii and Herculaneum had taken place a generation earlier, and that
the memory of the lava-death of these twO cities was covertly but all the more
intimately conjoined with the memory of the great Revolution. For when the
sudden upheaval had put an end to the style of the ancien regime. what was here
being exhumed was hastily adopted as the style of a glorious republic; and palm
fronds, acanthus leaves, and meanders came to replace the rococo paintings and
chinoimieJ of the previous century. 0 Antiquity 0
[Ll ,l]
"Suddenly, however, they want to transform the French, with one wuve of a magic
wand . into a people of classical antiquity; and on this whim of dreamers isolated in
their private libraries (tbe goddess i't1illerva notwithstanding), numerous artistic
I!lIdeavors have depended." Friedrich Johanll Lorenz Meyer, Frag mente alU
Pu ris im IV"· }ahr der Jrtmzosischen R eplw/ic (Hamburg, 1797). vol. 1, p, 146.
D ~~~ D
~~
Dream houses of the collective: arcades, winter gardens, panoramas, factories ,
wax museums, casinos, railroad stations.
[Ll ,3J
The Gare Saint-Lazare: a puffing, wheezing princess with the stare of a clock.
"For our type oeman," saysJacqucs de Lacretclle, "train stations are truly facto­
ries of dreams" ("Le Mveur parisien," Nouudle Revue./ranfiJue, 1927). To be sure:
loday, in the age of the automobile and airplane, it is only faint, atavistic terrors
which still lurk within the blackened sheds; and that stale comedy of farewell and
reunion, carried on before a background of Pullman cars, turns the railway
platfonn into a provincial stage. Once again "'C see perfonned the timeworn (
Greek melodrama: Orpheus, Eurydice, and Hennes at the station. 1brough the
mountains of luggage surrounding the figure of the nymph, looms the steep and
rocky path, the crypt intO which she sinks when the Hemwc conductor with the
signal disk, watching for the moist eye of Orpheus, gives the sign for departure.
Scar of departure, which zigzags, like the crack on a Greek vase, across the
painted bodies of the gods.
[Ll ,4]
The domestic interior moves outside. It is as though the bourgeois were so sure
of his prosperity that he is cardess of fal?de, and can exclaim: My house, no
matter where you choose to CUt intO it, is fal?de. Such fal?des, especially, on the
Berlin houses dating back to the middJe of the prcvi.ow century: an alcove does
not jut out, but-as niche-tucks in. The street becomes room and the room
becomes street. The passerby who stops to look at the house stands, as it were, in
the alcove. 0 Flaneur D
[LI ,S]
On the dream house. The arcade a8 temple: the habitue of those " obscure ba­
zaa rs" of the bourgeois arcades " will fmd himself almost on foreign ground in the
Passage de ('Opera. He will be profoundly ill at ease there; he will be anxioU.8 to
leave. Another moment and he will discover himself a master, as if he bad pene-­
trated the temple of God." I.e Livre de. cent-et-un, vol. 10 (Pari8, 1833), p. 71
(Amedee Kermel , " Les Passages de Paris").
(Ll .6]
Apropos of the colored windowpanell which wer e beginning to be instaUed in stair­
ways (and these stain were often waxed!) AJphonse Karr writes: " The staircase
has r emained 80mething that looks more like a machiue of war for defending one's
house against enemies than a means of communication and accen offered to
friends." Alphonse Ka rr, 300 pages, new edition (Paris, 1861 ), pp . 198-199.
[Ll ,')
Tile !Jouse has al",·ays shown itself " barely receptive to new formuJations." Sig­
(ried Giedion , Ballen in Frllnkreich <Sedill, 1928), p . 78.
. (LI ,8]
Arcades are howes or passages having no outside-like the dream.
[Lla,l]
Museums unquestionably belong to the dream houses of the collective. In con­
sidering them, one would want to emphasize the dialectic by which they come
into contact, on the one hand, with scientific research and, on the other hand,
\vith "the dreamy tide of bad taste." "Nearly every epoch would appear, by virtue
of its i..tmer disposicion, to be dUeOy cngaged in unfoldi..tlg a specific architeCtural
problem: for the Gothic age, this is the cathedrals; for the Baroque, the palace;
and for the early nineteenth century, with its regn=ssive tendency to allow itself to
be saturated with Lhe past: the museum." Sigfried Giedion, Bauro in Frankreich,
p. 36. This th.irst for the pasl fonDS something like the principal object of my
analysis-in light of which the inside of the museum appears as an interior
magnified 011 a giant scale. In the years 1850-1890, exhibitions rake the place of
[Ll a,2)
mus.cums. Comparison between the ideological bases of the two.
" The nineteClith century p rovided aU new creations. in every area of endeavor,
wit ll historicizing masks. Thi ~ was no less true in the field of arc hitecture tllan in
the field of industry or society. New possibilitics of const.ruction were being intro­
duced. hut pcople fe lt ulmost fcar at the advent of these new possibilities and
heedlessly huril.'illhclII in theatrical d ecoration. The enormoliS collet:tive ap para_
IUS of illll uslry was heing put in place, but its sign ificance was altered entirely by
Ihe fa ct that the be ncfit s of the production process ",·ere allowed to accrue to only a
;;.lIIaU num ber. This historicizillg mask i8 indissolubly bound to the image of tbe
uindet!nth century, and is not to be gainsaid." Sigfried Ciedion, Buuen in Frank­
reich , PI' · 1-2.
(LIa,3]
i.e Corbusier's work seems to stand at the tenninw of the mythological figura­
tion "house." Compare the following: "Why should the house be made as light
and airy as possible? Because only in that way can a fatal and hereditary monu­
mentality be brought to an end. As long as the play of burden and support,
whether actually or symbolically exaggerated (Baroque), got its meaning from
the supporting walls, heaviness was justified. But today-with the unburdened
exterior wall-the ornamentally accentuated counterpoint of pillar and load is a
painful farce (American skyscrapers)." Giedion, Sauro in FranRreieh, p. 85.
[Lb,')
Le Corbusier's "contemporary city"1 is yet another settlement along a highway.
Only the fact that now its precincts are traveled over by autos, and that airplanes
now land in its midst, changes everything. An effort must be made to secure a
foothold here from which to cast a productive glance, a form-and-distance-aeat­
[Lla,5]
ing glance, on the nineteenth century.
·-The COlldominiurn ill ihe last inca rnation of the baronial manor. It owes itll exist­
cnce allli its form to the bru tal egoistic compc tition of individual landowners for
the rights to territory thut , ill tbe struggle for existence, wa~ being broken up a nd
pa l·cell!11 Ollt. We arc therefore IIOt s urprised to see the/orm of the mauor house
rea ppcaring liS wdl- in the walled courtyard. One ol:cupant seeludes himself from
Il llothcl"_ ulullilal ill rUe! hdps to explaiu why, ill the '·I\tl , a chance rellInulit of the
".·holt! sUl"\'iv,·s"· A,tolf Ill'hne, Neues Ifo/lll e'I~Nf!lI eS B(lllen (Leipzig, 192 7).
1'1'. 93- 9'l .
[LIa,6]
:I'hc IIIUS: UIII us tlrt-1I111 house. "~'e ha \'e liL'en how the 8 0llr/loll8 a lready thoughl it
1I111.>ortuul that lilt· II 11Ceiilorij or their house he g10rifictllllul thaI the earlier history
of France, ill all it;;. iiplclulor ami signiflcunce. he recognized once again. Hence.
they also arranged to have outstanding mo ments from French history and French
cultural evolution depicted on the ceilings of the Louvr e. " Julius Meyer,
Geschicllte del' modcm enfranzosiilchen Malerei (Leipzig, 1867), p. 424. (L1 a,7]
InJune of 1837-"to the everlasting glory of France"-the historic museum of
Versailles was opened. A suite of rooms that one needs almost two hours merely
to traverse. Battles and scenes of parliament. Among the painters: Gos~,
Lariviere, H eim, Devrna, Gerard, Ary Scheffer, and others. H ere, then, the
collecting of pictures tums into: the painting of pictures for the museum. lL2,I)
..
Interlacing of mlu~eum and domestic interior. M. Chahrillat ( 1882 , director of the
Ambigu theater ) one day inherits a complete waxworks museum, "set up in the
Passage de l'Opera, right above the clock." (Perhaps it was the old Hartkoff
Mliseum.) Cha brillat is fri ends with a certa in bohemie fl , a gifted drafts man . who
at t he time is homeless. This man has an idea. Among the waxworks in thjs !flu­
seum is one group re prese nting the vis it of Empress E uge nie to cho lera patients in
Amiens. AI the right. the empress s miles on the patie nts; to the left is a Sister of
C harit y in white cornet ; a nd lying on an iron cot, pale and emaciated beneath the
fine cle an be dclothes. is a d ying ma n . The museum closes at midnight. The drafts­
man opines: Nothing simple r than to r emove, with due care, the cholera patient,
lay him on the Roor, and ta ke his place in the bed . C habrilla t gives his permission;
the wax figures mea n little 10 him. For the next six weeks, then , the artist , having
just been th rown out of his hotel, spends the night in the bed of the cholera victim,
a nd each morning he awakens under the gentle glance of the sicknurse and the
smiling glance of t.he empress, who lets he r blond hair fall on him. From Jules
Claretie, La Vie ii Paris , 1882 (Paris <1883» , pp. 30lff.
[L2,2)
"How much I admire those men who decide to be shut up at night in a museum
in order to examine at their own discretion, at an illicit time, some portrait of a
woman they illuminate by a dark lantern. Inevitably, afterward, they mu:"t kn~
much more about such a woman than .....oe do." Andre Breton, Ntufja (Paris
<1928»), p. 150.:1 But why? Because, in the medium oflhis image, the tranSforma­
tion of the museum intO an interior has taken place.
[L2,3)
The dream house of the arcades is encountered again in the church. Encroach­
ment of the architecrural style of the arcades on sacred architecrure. Concerning
Notre Dame de Lorette: "The interior of this building is without doubt in excel­
lent taste, only it is not the interior of a church. The splendid ceiling would
suitably adorn the most brilliant ballroom in the world; the graceful lamps of
bronze, with their frosted glass globes in different colors, look as though .th~y
came from the city's most elegant cafes." S. F. Lahrs ~ ?), Briift au; Pans, m
Europa: ChrOllik tkr g,bild,t~l Welt (Leipzig and Stuttgart, 1837), vol. 2, p. 209.
struc ting private r esidential dwellings a ll a round the pe rimete r, 80 that these thea­
ters c an hardl y become anything o ther than coloual containe rs, giant capsules for
a ll sorts of things." Grenzboten . 1861 , 211d semeste r, vol. 3, p . 143 ("Die Pa riser
KUlIstaussteJlung vo n 1861 ") .
(L2,5)
11unk of the arcade as watering place. What we would like is to stumble upon an
arcade myth, wi~ a legendary source ~t. its center-an asphalt wellspring arising
at the heart of Pans. The tavern advemsmg beer "on tap" still draws on this myth
of the waters. And the extent to which healing is a nIe tk passage, a transition
experience, becomes vividly clear in those classical corridors where the sick and
ailing rum into their recovery, as it were. Those halls, too, are arcades.] Compare
fountains in the vestibule.
[L2,6]
The dread of doors that won't close is something everyone knows from dreams.
Stated more precisely: these are doors that appear dosed without being so. h was
with heightened senses that I leamed of this phenomenon in a dream in which,
while I was in the company of a friend , a ghost appeared to me in the window of
the ground floor of a house to our right. And as we walked on, the ghost
accompanied us from inside all the houses. It passed tluuugh all the walls and
always remained at the same height with us. I saw this, though I was blind. The
path we. travel through arcades is fundamentally just such a ghost walk, on which
[L2,7)
doors gIVe way and walls yield.
The figure of wax is properly the setting wherein the appearance ~Schnfl) of
humanity outdoes itself. In the wax figure, that is, the surtace area, complexion,
and coloration of the human being are all rendered with such perfect and unsur­
passable cxactirude that this reproduction of human appearance itself is outdone,
and now the mannequin incarnates nothing but the hideous, cunning mediation
[L2a,l )
between costume and viscera. oFashion 0
Descr iption of a wax museum as dream house: "Once visitors reached the final
la nding, they looked around the corner into a large, brightly lit room . There was,
so to say, no o lle within , though it was filled wi th princes c rinolines uniforms a nd
giants a t the c ntrance. The woman went 110 furth er, an~ her escor: paused b:side
her. piqued by a baleful pleasure. They !>at down on the s tep!>, and he told her of
tI.e te rror he hUll experiencetl as a boy in r eading about ill-famed castles where no
Olle livcd an y longer, but where on s torm y nights the re we re lights burning at a ll
tl.e wintlows. What was going 0 11 i.nside? What ga thering was the re? Wher e was
th'l.t light coming from ? He had dreamed of catc hing a glimpse of this assembly
willie I.allging frOIll the window led ge, his face pre~sc,1 agains t the windowpanes of
t hlt unspe akable roOIll. " Ernst Bloch , "Leib und Wac hsfigur," Frmlkfurter Zeit ­
U"g~ Dcl;cmhcr 19. 1929).
[L2a,2]
[L2,4)
"N
1 ulllher
" As for the new all tillot ye tlillis hed theaters, t he y ap,)ear to belo ng to no partieu­
IlIr style. T he intention , evidentl y, is to integrate private in to public uses by COII ­
1.25: Ca~ tan'~ maze. At firs t, world traveler~ :11111 artists s uppose them­
sclvc!> tra ns po rted into the fores t of col limns th llt is the Iliagnificcnt mOSllull of
Cordova in Spain. As arch !>lIcccclls arch in that edifice, o ne co lumn crowd, upon
the next in I~rs pccti ve , offering fab ulous vistas alld unthinkably long avenues
which 110 one could follow to the cud . Theu , suddenl y, we behold an image that
take! us iuto the ve r y heart of the fa mous Al hambru of Grallada. We see the
tapestry pattern of the Al hambra , with it! inseriptioll ' Allah i! Allah' (God is
great), allli already we are standing in a garllen , in the ora nge grove of the Alham_
bra. But before the visitor arri ves at this court ya rd, he must pass th ro ugh a series
of labyrinthine di vagations ." Catalogue of Castan 's panopticon" (from extrac ts in
the Frarlkfitrter Zeitung).
[L2a,3)
"The s uccess of the Romantic school gave rise, a round 1825, to the nlarket in
modern paintings. Before that , art lovers went to the homes of artis ts. Seller s of
artists' pigments-Cirollx , Suisse, Binant . Ber villt..--began to function as middle­
men . The fi rst retail house was opened by Goupil in 1829. " ( Lucien> Dubeeh and
(Pierre> d ' Espezel, lIisfoire de P(lris ( Paris, 1926), p. 359 .
[L2a,4)
" The Opera is oue of the ch aracteristic creations of the SecolIIl Empire. It was
designed b y an unknown yo ung a rchitect , Charles Garnier. whose pla n was se­
Iet!ted fro m among 160 proj ects suhmittctl. His theater, constructed in the years
1861- 1875. was conceived as a place of pageantry.... It was the stage on which
impcrial Paris could gaze at itself with satisfactio n . Classes newly risen to power
and to fortune, blendings of cosmopolitan elcments-this was a new world , and it
called for a new name: people no longer spoke of the Court, but of le Tout Paris (aU
fas hionable Paris >.... A theater conceived as an urba n center, a center of social
life-this was a new idea, and a sign of the times." Dubech and d ' Espezel, Hu toire
de Pa ris , pp. 4 11 -4 12.
(L2a,S]
To set up, within the actual city of Paris, Paris the dream city-as an aggregate of
all the building plans, street layouts, park projects, and street·name systems that
were never developed.
[1.2a,6)
The arcade as temple of Aesculapius, medicinal spring. The course of a cure.
(Arcades as resort spas in ravines-at Schuls:rarasp, at Ragaz.) The gorge as
landscape ideal in the nineteenth century.
[L3,I)
less putrefied naked bodies. of both sexe!, will soon lose interest in the sparse
mise-en-scime. I do not exaggerate. These smutty scenes a re enacted ever y da y a t
the morgue ; people laugh there, smoke there, and chatter loudly." Edouard Fou­
cand , Puris invellteu r : Physiologie de l'indwtriefram;ai.se (Paris , 1844). PI" 212­
213.
[L3,3)
An engra ving from around 1830 , pe rhaps a little earlier, s how! copyists at work in
va rious ecstatic postu res. Caption : " Artistic Inspiration at the Museum ." Cabinet
[1.3,4)
des Eslampes.
On the beginnings of the museum at Versailles: " M. de Montalivet was in a hurry to
acquire a quantity of p ain tings . He wanted them everywhere, and , since the
Chambers had decried prodigality, he was determined to buy cheaply. T he trend
was toward thrift . .. M. de Montalivet willingly ... let it be thought that it was he
himself who, on the quays and in the dealers' s hops, was buyin g up third-rate
canvases .... No , .. . it w as the reigning princes of art who were indulging in this
hideous business ... The copies and pastiches in the museum a t Versailles are the
most grievous confinnation of the rapacity of those master artists, who became
entre preneurs a nd barterers of art .... Business and industry d ~ided to elevate
themselves to the level of the artist. The latter, in order to satisfy his need for the
luxuries which were beginning to tempt him, prostituted art to speculation and
brough t about the degeneration of the artistic tradition by his calculated reduction
of art to the proportions of a trade. " This las t refers to the fact that [ aro und 1837]
painters were passing on to their students commissions they had accepted them­
selves. Ga briel Pelin, Les Loideurs du beau Pam (Paris, 1861). pp . 85, 87-90.
[L3,5)
On subterranean Paris--Qld sewers. " We shall form an image more closely resem­
hling this ! trange geometric plan by supposing that we see spread upon a back­
ground of dar kness some grotesque alphabet of the East jumbled as in a medley.
the 5hapeless letters of which are joined to one another, apparently pelI-meU and
as if h y chance. sometime! hy their corners, sometimes by their extremities."
Victor I-Jugo, Oeuvres completes , novels, vol. 9 (Paris, 1881), pp. 158-159 (I.es
MisernblesJ.5
I1.3a, l]
J acques Fabicn , Pliris ell 10fl ge (Paris, 1863), rc ports 011 the moving of Jhe Porte
Saint-Martin and the Porte Saint- Denis: " They a re no less admired 0 11 the summi t!
of the Faubourgs Saint-Martin allli Saint- Dcnis" (p . 86). I.n this way, the areas
around the gates , which had sunk quite noticeably. were .. ble to regain their origi­
nallevel.
[L3,2)
Sewers: " All manlier of phantoms hau nt these long solitary corridors, putridity
ami mi a ~ llla everywhere; here and there a breathing-hole through which Villon
within Chats with Rabelais without ." Victor Hugo. Oeu vres completes, 1l0velS, vol.
9 ( Paris, 1881), ". 160 ( Les Miserables). ~
(LJa,2)
Proposal to cover the dead bodies in thc morgue "..ith an oilcloth frolll the neck
down. " The public lines up at tile d oor allli is allowed to examine at ilil leiilure the
/lillIe ~'adavc rs of the un known d ea~l . . O ne Iluy. moralit y will hc given its duc;
alUltilen:after the worker who now goes at lunchtime to visit the IIl()rgtIL--hands
in pockets, pipe in mouth , smil~: 0 11 lips-in order to crack jokes over the more or
Victor Hugo 0 11 the obstacles which hindered Pa risian digging and tUllneling OJl­
t:I'atioIlS: " Paris is built upon a deposit singularly rebellious 10 the spade, to the
h~, to. the drill . to human oolll roi. No thing more difficult to pierce and to pene­
trate than that geological for mation upon which is s uperJ.lo~ed the wonderful his­
torical formatioll called Pa ris; as soon as ... labo r commences and ve nture! into
that sheet of alluvium, s ubterranean reaiataoce abounds. There are liquid clay.,
living springs, hard rocks, thOle lOft deep mires which technical sdence caUs
mOIl'ardes. The pick advaDce8laboriously into these calcareous t trata aitcmating
with leams of very fine day a nd laminar schistose beds, encrusted with oysler I
shells conteml)()rary with the p re-Ada mite oceans," Victor Hugo, Oeu vres com_
plete., Dovda, vol. 9 (Paria, 1881), pp . 178-179 ( Le. Mis erables).'
[1.3a,3)
..
Sewer: "Paria . .. called it the Stink-Hole .... The Stink-Hole wall 11 0 lell revolt_
ing to hygiene than to legend. The Goblin Monk had appeared under the fetid arch
of the Mouffetard sewer; the corples of the Ma rmou8ets had been thrown into the
sewer of the Barillerie.... The mouth of the sewer of the Rue de la MorteUerie wa •
famou. for the pestilence which came (rom it .... Bruneseau had made a begin_
ning, but it required the cholera epidemics to detennine the vast recOll.8tructiou
which hat since taken place." Victor Hugo, Oeuvre, complete,_ noveb, vol. 9
(Parit, 1881), pp. 166, 180 (Le, Miserable" "L' lntestin de Uriathan").' [L3i,' ]
1805--Bruneseau's descent into the sewers: " Hardly had Brunekau J1Rssed the
first branchings of the subterranean network. when eight out of the twenty labor­
ers refused to go further. ... They advanced with difficulty. It was not uncommon
for the stepladders to plunge into three feet of mire. The lanterns Bickered in the
miasmas. From time to time, a sewennan who had fainted was carried out. At
certain places. a precipice. The soil had sunk, the pavement had crumbled, the
sewer bad chan~ into a blind well; they found no solid ground. Oue man sud­
denly disappeared; they had y-eat difficulty in recovering him . On the advice of
Fourcroy, they lighted from point to point, in the placet tufflcientiy purified, great
cages fuD of oakl1D1 saturated with resin. The wall . in placet, wat covered with
shapeleu fungi-one would have said with tl1D10rl. The stone itself seemed dis­
eased in this unhreathable atmosphere .... They thought they recognized bere
and there, chiefly under the Palais de Justice, some reUs of ancient dungeons buill
in the sewer itself.... An iron coUar hung in one of these cells. They walled them
all up . . .. The complete survey of the underground sewer system of Paris occu­
pied seven years, from 1805 to 1812.... Nothing equaled the horror of this old
voiding crypt, ... cavern, grave, gulf pierced with streets , titanic molehill, in
which the mind seem8 to see prowling through the shadow . .. that eno nno~s blind
mole, the past." Victor Hugo, Oeuvre, complete" novell, vol. 9 (Paris , 1881),
PII . 169- 171 , 173-174 (Les Miserable" " L' lntestln de Uviathan"}.9
[U ,I]
In connection with the passage from Gerstiicker. 'o An undersea jeweler's shop:
" ~ came into the underwater
hall of the jeweler's. Never would one have
believed it possible to be so far removed from terra finna. An immense dome ...
overspread the ~tirc marketplace, which was filled with the brilliant glow of
electricity and the happy bustle of oowds, and an assomnent of shops with
glittering display windows." Uo C larccie, Pari; depuil $tS origineJjuJqu'en laR
3000 (Paris, 1886), p. 337 ("En 1987"). It is significant that this image resurfaces
just when the beginning of the end has arrived for the arcades.
[U .2]
The sewerS ofParls, 186 1- 1862. Photo by Nadar. CourtC3y oC the Bibliotheque Nation­
rue d e France. Sec U ,1.
Proudhon takes a keen interest in the paintings of Courbet and, with the help of
vague definitions (oC"ethics in action"), enlists them in his cause.
[U ,3]
\o\bcfuU y.inadequate rcferwces to mineral springs in Koch, who writes of the
poems dedicated by Goethe to Maria Ludovica at Karlsbad: "The essential thing
for him in these 'Karlsbad poems' is no t the geology but ... the thought and the
knSation that healing energies emanate from the o therwise unapproachable per­
-
son of the princess. The intimacy of life at the spa creates a fdlow feeling ... with
the noble lady. Thus, ... in the pre5(:nce of the mystery of the springs, health
comes ... from the proximity of the princess." Richard Koch, lXr Zaubtr lkr
Hd4udkn (S..ugart, 1933), p. 21.
.
IU,' ]
Whereas a journey ordinarily gives the bourgeois the illusion of slipping the ties
that bind him to his social class, the watering place fonifies his consciousness of
belonging to the upper class. It does this not only by bringing him into contact
with fcuda1 strata. Momand draws attention to a more. elementary circumstance :
"In Paris there art no doubt larger crowds, but nonc so homo~neous as this one;
for most of the sad human beings who make up those: crowds will have eaten
either badly or hardly at all.... But at Baden, nothing of the sort: everyone is
happy, seeing that everyone's at Baden." Felix Mornand, La Vie tks eaux (Paris,
1855), pp. 256-257.
IU.,I]
The meditative stroll through the pump room proves advantageous to business,
chiefly through the agency of an. The contemplative attitude that schools itself
on the work of art is slowly transfonned into an attitude more covetous of the
wares on display. "Having taken a rum before the Tn'nkhallt, ... or beneath the
frescoed peristyle of this Greco-Gennan·ltalianate colormade, one will com e in·
doors, ... read the newspapers for a while, price the art objects, examine the
watercolors, and drink a small glassfuL" Rlix Momand, La V'u- de; taux (Paris,
1855), pp. 257- 258.
IU.,2]
Dungeonl of Chiilelet <see also C5a,h: " Those celli, the mere thought of which
.strikes terror into the hearts of the people, ... have lent their stonell to the one
theater ahove all where pe1)ple love: to go for a good time, lIillce there they hear of
the und yi ng glory of their sonll on the field s of battle." Edouard Fournier,
Chroniques et Ugendes des rues ck Puns (Paris , 1864), lip. 155-156. The refer­
[Ua,3]
ence it to the Theatre du Chitelet , originally a circus.
The revisetl title puge of Meryo n's Emu·forte s sur l'uris (Etchings of PariS) de·
picts a weighty atone whose age it attested to by the encrusted shells and the
cracks. The title of the cycle is engraved in this IItone. "Burty remarkll that the
shells , and the imprint of m088 prellerved in the limelltone, indicate clea rl y that
this stone was chosen from among the specimens of uncient Parisian soil in the
(IUarriel of Montmartre." Gustave Geffroy, Charles Meryon (paris. 1926). p . 47.
(LAa,4)
In " Le J oueur genereux," Buudelaire me.:ts ",;th Satan in his infernal gambling
den. " a dauling subterranean dwelling of a fabulou s luxury heyond a nything the
upper haliitutions of Paris coul{l offer:' Charles Bamlelaire, Le S,,/een de Puris,
{lAa,5]
e{l. R. SinlOli (Paris). p. 49. 11
The gate belongs in a context with the n'le; lk pa.JSuge. "H owever it may be
indicated, one enters the way-whether it be between two sticks driven intO the
ground and sometimes set leaning toward each other, or through a tree trunk
split in the middle and opened up, . . . o r under a birch limb bent into an
arch.... In these cases, it is always a matter o f escaping a hostile ... element,
getting clear of some slain, separating ofT contagio n or the spirits o f the dead,
who cannot follow through the narrow opening." Ferdinand Noack, Tn'umph und
'fn'umphbogen, series entitled Vortriige der Bibliothek Warburg, vol. 5 (Leipzig,
1928), p. 153. Whoever enters an arcade passes through the gate-way in the
[LS,l ]
opposite direction. 12 (Or rather, he ventures into the intrauterine world.)
According to K. Meister. Die Huu.uch welle in Spruche und Relision der Romer,
Proceedings of the Heidelberg Academy of Sciences, Division of Philosophy and
History, 1924-1925. Treatise 3 (Heidelberg, 1925), the threshold does not have for
the Gn:ek8, or indeed fo r any other people , the importance it has for the Romans.
T he treatise ill concerned essentially with the genesis of the sublimis as the exalted
[L5,2]
(originally what is carried aloft).
" Nevertheleu , we see a continuous stream of new works in which the city is the
main character, present throughout , and in which the name of Paris almost always
figures in the tit1e, indicating that the public likes thillgs this way. Under these
conditions, how could there not develop in each reader the deep-seated conviction
(which is evident even today) that the Pa ris he knows is not the only Paris, not even
the true one, that it is only a stage set , brilliant1y illuminated but too normat-a
pi ~e of scenery which the IItageh ands will never do away with , and which conceals
another Paris, the real Paris, a nocturnal, s p~tra l , impe rceptible Paris." Roger
Caillois, " Paris, mythe moderne," Nouvelk Revuefrum.aise, 25, no . 2M (May I,
1937), p. 687 .
[L5,3]
"Cities, like forests, have their dens in which aU their vilest and most terrible
monsters hide." Victor Hugo, Les Miserables, part 3 <Oeuvres compretes, novels,
vol. 7 (Paris, 1881 ), p. 306~ .13
[1.,5,4]
There are relations between department store and museum, and here the bazaar
provides a link. The amassing of artWorks in the museum brings them intO
conununication with commodities, which-where they o ffer themselves en
masse to the passerby-awake in him the notion that some pan of this sho uld fall
~~.~
~~
" T he dty of tile dead , Pere Lachaise ... The word 'cemetery' call1lot prOIHlrly be
lls e<1 for this pa rticular layout . which is modeled 011 the necropolises of the ancielll
World . This veritable urban estahlishment-with its Slone houses for the dead and
its profusion of stalues, which , in contrast to the custom of the Christian north,
rt:present tile {lead as living- is conceived througllotll as II continuation of the city
of the living." (The name comes from the owner of the la nd . the fath er confeuor of
Louill XlVi the pilln is by Na poleon I. ) FrilZ Stahl. Pari!! (Berlin d929 ~). PI). 161­
162.
(LSa)
M
[The Flaneur1
A landscape hau nts, intense as opium.
- MaIIanru! ("Autrd'ois, en marge d'un Baudclaire,~ in DiIlQ{IItWlIJ)
To read what was never ....'filten.
- Hofmaruuthal l
And I travcl in order to get to know my geography.
- A madman, in Martel R.eja,!:Arl dw. ksfous (ParU, 1907), p. 131
All that can be found anywhere can be found in Paris.
- VICtor Hugo, LeJ ]tfistrabltJ, in Hugo. CkUllffJ compte/,s (Paris,
188 1), novels, vol. 7. p. 30, from the chapter ~Ecce Paris, Ecce
Homo"l
But the great reminiscences, the historical shudder-these are a trumpery which
he (the 8aneur) leaves to tourists, who think thereby to gain access to the genius
loci with a military password. Our friend may well keep silent. At the approach of
his footsteps, the place has roused; speechlessly, mindJessly, its mere intimate .
nearness gives him hints and instructions. He stands before Notre Dame de
Lorette, and his soles remember: here is the spot when= in Comler times the ,Mva/
de renfort-the spare horse-was harnessed to the onmibus that climbed the Rue
des Martyn toward M onttnart:re. Often, he would have given all he knows about
the domicile of Balzac or of Gavami, about the site of a surprise attack or even of
a barricade, to be able to catch the scent of a threshold or to recognize a paving
stone by touch, like any watchdog.
[MI,I]
The street conducts the fianeur into a vanished timc. For him, every street is
precipitous. It leads downward- if not to the mythical Moth ers, then into a p..!-St
that can be all the more spcllbinAiDg because it is not his own, not priva,te.
Nevenheless, it always remains the time of a childhood. But why that of the life
he has lived? In the asphalt over which he passes, his steps awaken a surprising
resonance. TIle gaslight that streams down on the paving stones throws an
[MI ,2]
equivocal light on this double ground.
An intoxication comes over the man who walks long and aimlessly through the
streets. Wim each step, me walk takes on greater momentum; ever weaker grow
the temptations of shops, of bistros, of smiling women, ever more irresistible the
magnetism of the next streetcomer, of a distant mass of foliage, of a street name.
Then comes hunger. Our man wants nothing to do wim me myriad possibilities
offered to sate his appetite. Like an ascetic animal, he fiits through unknown
districts-until, utterly exhausted, he stumbles into his room, which receives him
coldly and wears a strange air.
[MI ,3]
Paris created the type of me Bftneur. What is remarkable is that it wasn't Rome.
And the reason? Does not dreaming itself take the high road in Rome? And isn't
that city too full of temples, enclosed squares, national shrines, to be able to enter
lout mtiirt'-with every cobblestone, every shop sign, every step, and every gate­
way-into the passerby's dream? The national character of the Italians may also
have much to do with this. For it is not the foreigners but they themselves, the
Parisians, who have made Paris the promised land of the Haneur=tJlelIlandSCape
built of snett1ifi,""iSHofmanns al once put ir.T;anciScape- t, in fact, IS w t
Paris becomes or the flineur. Or, more precisely: the city sElits for him into its
dialectical poles. It opens up to him as a landscape, even as it closes aro~
as a room.
[MI ,4]
I
That anamnestic intoxication in which the ftftneur goes about the city not only
feeds on the sensory data taking shape before his eyes but often possesses itself of
abstract knowledge-indeed, of dead facts-as something experienced and lived
through. This felt knowledge travels from one person to another, especially by
~"Ord of mouth. But in the course of the nineteenth century, it was also deposited
m an immense literature. Even before Le.feuve, who described Paris "street by
street, house by house," there were numerous works that depicted this storied
landscape as backdrop for the dreaming idler. The study of these books consti­
tuted a second existence, already wholly predisposed toward dreaming; and
what the Bineur learned from them took form and figure during an afternoon
~ before the aperitif. \o\buldn't he, then, have necessarily fdt the steep slope
~d the church of Notre Dame de Lorette rue all the more insistently under
his soles ifhe realized: here, at one time, after Paris had gotten its first omnibuses,
the cheval tit rmfort was harnessed to the coach to reinforce the two other horses.
[MI ,5[
One must make an effort to grasp the altogether fascinating moral constitution of
the pass~onatc Hineur. The police-who here, as on so many of the subjects we
arc treatmg, appear as experts-provide the following indication in the report of
a Paris secret agent from October 1798 (?): "It is almost impossible to summon
:m~ ~aintain. good moral character in a thickly massed population where each
mdlVl5lual, unbeknownst to all the others, hides in the O"Owd, so to speak, and
bl~hes before the eyes of no one." C ited in Adolf Sdunidt, Pariu r Zustiinde
wiilrrrnd der Revolution, vol. 3 (jena, 1876). The case in which the Hftneur com­
pletely distances himself from the type of the philosophical promenader, and
takes on the features of the werewolf restlessly roaming a social wildemess, was
fixed for the first time and forever afterward by Poe in his story "The Man of the
Crowd."
{Ml ,6)
The appearances of superposition, of overlap, which come with hashish may be
grasped through the concept of similitude. When we say that one face is similar
[Q another, we mean that certain fearures of this second face appear to us in the
first, without the latter's ceasing to be what it has been. Nevertheless, the possi­
bilities of entering into appearance in this way are not subject to any criterion and
are therefore bouncUess. The category of similarity, which for the waking con­
sciousness has only minimal relevance, attains unlimited relevance in the world
of hashish. There, we may say, everything is face: each thing has the degree of
bodily presence that allows it to be searched-as one searches a face-for such
traits as appear. Under these conditions even a sentence (to say nothing of the
single word) puts on a face, and this face resembles that of the sentence standing
opposed to it. In this way every truth points manifestly to its opposite, and this
state of affairs explains the existence of doubt. Truth becomes something living;
it lives solely in the rhytlun by which statement and counterstatement displace
[MIa,I)
each other in order [Q think each other.3
Valery Larbaud on the "moral climate of the Parisian street." "Relations always
begin with the fiction of equality, of Christian fraternity. In this crowd the inferior
is disguised as the superior, and the superior as the inferior-disguised morally,
in both cases. In other capitals of the world, the disguise barely goes beyond the
appearance, and people visibly insist on their differences, making an effort to
retain them in the face of pagans and barbarians. Here they efface them as much
as they can. Hence the peculiar sweeUless of the moral climate of Parisian streets,
the chann which makes one pass over the vulgarity, the indolence, the monotony
of the crowd. It is the grace of Paris, its virtue: charity. VlrtUOUS crowd ..."
Valery Larbaud, "Rues et visages de Paris: Pour l'album de Chas-Laborde,"
Commau ,8 (Summer 1926), pp. 36-3Z Is it permissible to refer this phenomenon
so confidently to Christian virtue, or is there not perhaps at work here an intoxi­
cated assimilation, superposition, equalization that in the streets of this city
proves to carry more weight than the will to social accreditation? One might
adduce here the hashish experience "Dante und PetrarCa,"~ and measure the
impact of intoxicated experience on the proclamation of the rights of man. 1bis
all unfolds at a considerable remove from Christianity.
[M I a,2)
The "colportage phenomenon of space" is the 8.meur's basic experience. Inas­
much as this phenomenon also-from another angle-shows itself in the mid­
nineteenth-century interior, it may not be amiss to suppose that the heyday of
fI.merie occur in this sanle period. 1"hanks to this phenomenon, everything poten­
tially taking place in this one single room is perceived simultaneously. The space
winks at the flaneur: What do yOll think may have gone on here? Of course, it
has yet to be explained ho w tllls phenomenon is associated with colportage.}
Histo ry 0
[Ml a,3)
o
A true masquerade of space-that is what the British embassy's ball on May 17,
1839, must have been. "In addition to the glorious Bowers from gardens and
greenhouses, 1,000- 1,200 rosebushes were ordered as part of the decoration for
the festivities. It was said that only 800 of them could fit in the rooms of the
embassy, but that \vill give you an idea of the utterly mythological magnificence.
The garden, covered by a pavilion, was turned into a lalon de conlKT"Jation. But
what a salon! The gay Bower beds, full of blooms, were huge jardini~m which
everyone came over to admire; the gravel on the walks was covered with fresh
linen, out of consideration for all the white satin shoes; large sofas of lampas and
of damask replaced the wrought-iron benches; and on a round table there were
books and albwns. It was a pleasure to take the air in this immense boudoir,
where one could hear, like a magic chant, the sounds of the orchestra, and where
one could see passing, like happy shadows, in the three surrounding flower-lined
galleries, both the fun-loving girls who came to dance and the more serious girls
who came to sup." H. d~eras , La Vie paruienne ;ous (Ie regne de) Loui;­
Philzppe <Paris, 1925>, pp. 446-44Z The account derives from Madame de
Girardin. 0 Interior 0 Today, the watchword is not entanglement but transpar­
[Mla,4)
ency. (Le Corbusier!)
The principle of colportage illustration encroaching on great painting. "The re­
ports on the engagements and battles which, in the catalogue, were supposed to
illuminate the moments chosen by the painter for battle scenes, but which failed
to achieve this goal, were usually augmented with citations of the works from
which these reports were drawn. Thus, one would find at the end, frequently in
parentheses: Campagne; d'Espagne, by Marshal Suchet; Bulle/in de fa Grande Ar­
mie et rapports qfficielsj Gau tte de France, number ... ; and the like; Hi;/oire de la
rivolution ftanfaiJe, by M. Thers, volume .. . , page ... ; Vic/oira et cMlqueta ,
volume .. . , page ... ; and so forth and so on." Ferdinand von Gall, Paru und
5eine Salons (Oldenburg, 1844), vol. 1, pp. 198-199.
[M2 ,1]
Category of illustrative seeing-fundamental for the 8.meur. Like Kubin when
he wrote Andere Seite, he composes his reverie as text to accompany the images.
[M2,2)
H~hish . One imitates certain things one knows from paintings: prison, the
Bndge of Sighs, stairs like the train of a dress.
[M2,3)
\~ know that, in the course of Banerie, far-off times and places interpenetrate the
la~dscapc and the present moment. When the authentically intoxicated phase of
this condition announces itself, the blood is pounding in the veins of the happy
Baneur, his heart ticks like a clock, and inwardly as weU as outwardly things go
on as we wou1d imagine them to do in one of those "mechanical pictures" which
in the nineteenth cenrury (and of course earlier, too) enjoyed great popu1arity,
and which depicts in the foreground a shepherd playing on a pipe, by his side two
children swaying in time to the music, further back a pair of hunters in pursuit of
a lion, and very much in the background a train crossing over a trestle bridge.
Chapuis and Gelis, it Montie ties automates (Paris, 1928), vol. 1, p. 330.' (M2,4]
The attitude of the B1neur--epitome of the political attitude of the middle classes
during the Second Empire.
(M2,5]
With the steady increase in trnffic on the st:reets, it was only the macadamization
of the roadways that made it possible in the end to have a conversation on the
terrace of a cafe without shouting in the other person's ear.
(M2,6)
The laissez·faire of the 81neur has its counterpart even in the revolutionary
philosophemes of the period. "\o\t smile at the chimerical pretension [of a Saint­
Simon] to trace all physical and moraJ phenomena back to the law of universal
attraction. But we forget too easily that this pretension was not in itself isolated;
under the influence of the revolutionizing natural laws of mechanics, there couJd
arise a c:u.rrent of natural philosophy which saw in the mechanism of nature the
proof of just such a mechanism of social life and of events generally." <Willy>
SpUhler, Dr:r Saint-Simonumus (ZUrich, 1926), p. 29.
[M2,7)
Dialectic of B1nerie: on one side, the man who feels himself viewed by all and
sundry as a true suspea and, on the other side, the man who is utterly undis·
coverable, the hidden man. Presumably, it is this dialectic that is developed in
"The Man of the Crowd."
[M2,8]
"Theory or the transrormation or the city into countr Y8ide: thi8 was ... the main
theme or my unfinished work on Maul)aBsaDt .... At issue was the city as hUlltin!!: .
ground , and in general the concept or the hunter played a nlajor role (as in the
theory or the uniForm : all hunters look alike)." Leiter rrom Wiesengrund, June 5,
1935.
1M2,')
The principle of Banerie in Proust: "Then, quite apart from all those literary
preoccupations, and without definite attachment to anything, suddenly a roof, a
gleam of sunlight reBected from a stone, the smell of a road would make me stop
still, to enjoy the special pleasure that each of them gave me, and also because
they appeared to be concealing, beneath what my eyes could see, something
which they invited me to approach and take from them, but which, despite all my
efforts, I never managed to discover." Du CiJIi de ,lIa Swann <(Paris, 1939), vol. I ,
p. 256.)7- This passage shows very clearly how the old Romantic sentiment for
landscape dissolves and a new Romantic conception of landscape emerges-of
landscape that seems, rather, to be a cityscape, if it is true that the city is the
properly sacred ground of fiinerie . In this passage, at any rate, it wouJd be
presented as such for the first time since Baudelaire (whose ,",,'Ork does nOt yet
portray the arcades, though they were so numerous in his day).
[M2a,l )
So the Bfmeur goes for a walk in his room: "WhenJohrumes sometimes asked for
pemlission to go out, it was usually denied him. But on occasion his father
proposed, as a substitute, that they walk up and down the room hand in hand.
seemed at first a poor substitute, but in fact ... something quite nove]
awaited him. The proposal was accepted, and it was left entirely to Johannes to
decide where they should go. Off they went, then, right out the front entrance,
out to a neighboring estate or to the seashore, or simply through the streets,
exactly as J ohannes couJd have wished; for his father managed everything.
While they strolled in this way up and down the Boor of his room, his father told
him of all they saw. They greeted other pedestrians; passing wagons made a din
around them and drowned out his father's voice; the comfits in the pastry shop
were more inviting than ever." An early work by Kierkegaard, cited in Eduard
Geismar, SOrrn Kir:rlug(Ulrd (Gottingen, 1929), pp. 12- 13. H ere is the key to the
schema of Voyage au/our tie ma chambrt.'
(M2a,2]
nus
"'The manuracturer pa8ses over the asph alt eonseiouBor i18 quality; the old man
sea rches it carerul1 y, foUows it just as long aB be can, h appily tap8 hi. cane.o the
wood re80nates , and recall8 with pride that he perso naUy witnes8ed the laying or
the firs t sidewalks; the poet ... walks on it pensive and unconcerned , muttering
lines or verse; the 8tockbroker hurrie. P88t, calculating the advantage. or the las t
ri8e in wheat ; a nd the madcap 8lides acron." Alexis Martin , " Physiologie de l'a8­
phalte," Le BoMme, I , no. 3, (April 15. 1855}-Charles Pradier, editor in chier.
[M2a,3)
On the Parisians' technique of inhabiting their streets: "Returning by the Rue
Saint-Honore, we met with an eloquent example of that Parisian st:reet industry
which can make use of anything. Men were at work repairing the pavement and
laying pipeline, and, as a resuJt, in the middle of the street there was an area
which was blocked off but which was embanked and covered with stones. On
this spot street vendors had inunediately installed themselves, and five or six
\\'ere selling writing implements and notebooks, cutlery, lampshades, garters,
embroidered collars, and all sorts of trinkets. Even a dealer in secondhand goods
had opened a branch office here and was displaying on the stones his bric-a.-brac
of old cups, plates, glasses, and so forth , so that business was profiting, instead of
Suffering, from the brief disturbance. They are simply wizards at making a
vinue of necessity." Adolf Stahr, Xat.hfiirif Jahrm (Oldenburg, 1857), vol. I ,
p.29.'
Seventy years later, I had the same experience at the comer of the BouJevard
Saint_·Germain and the Boulevard Raspail. Parisians make the street an interior.
IM3,1)
"It is wonderful that in Paris itself o ne can actually wander through countryside."
Karl Gutzkow, Briife au; Pari; (Leipzig, 1842), vol. I , p. 61. The other side of the
~o~ is thus touched on. For if 8inerie can transfonn Paris into one great
mtenor-a house whose rooms are the quartin-s, no less clearly demarcated by
thresholds tha? are real ~ms-th~, on the other hand, the city can appear to
someone walking through It to be Wlthout thresholds: a landscape in the round.
sions, for balls and concerts, although, since its doors are open in summer too, it
hardly deserves the name of winter garden.n When the sphere of planning crt­
ates such entanglements of closed room and airy nature, then it serves in this way
to meet the deep human need for daydrearning-a propensity that perhaps
proves the true efficacy of idleness in human affairs. Wbldemar Scyffarth, Wallr­
nehmllngm in Paris 1853 lind 1854 (Gotha, 1855), p. 130.
(M3,IO)
[M3.'[
The menu at Les Trois F~res Prove n~ux: "Thirty-six pages for food , four pages
for drink-but very long pages, in small folio, with closely packed text and
numerous annotations in fine print.'" The booklet is bound in velvet. Twenty
hors d'oeuvres and thirty-three soups. "Forty·six beef dishes, among which are
seven different beefsteaks and eight 6lets.n "Thirty-four preparations of game,
forty-seve n dishes of vegetables, and seventy-olle varieties of compote.n Julius
Rodenberg, Paris he; Sonnmschein lind Lampenlicht (Leipzig, 1867), pp. 43-44.
Flanerie through the bill oHare.
(M3a,l)
But in ~e ~ analysis, ool.y the revolution creates an open space for the city.
Fresh a.tr doctnne of revoluaons. Revolution disenchants the city. ConUTlune in
L'EduCIltion srotimtnta/e. Image of the street in civil war.
(M3,3)
Street as domestic interior. Concernillg the Passagc dll Ponl· Neuf (betwccn Ihe
Hue Gu.!negaud a nd the Rue de Seine): " the shops resem ble closets. " Nouveaux
'fableaux de Puru , 011 Observatioru sllr les mreurs et UJ<l8es deJ PuriJ ifmJ au
commencement du XIX~ sieck (pa ris, 1828), vol. I , I). 34.
rM3,4)
The best way, while dreaming, to catch the afternoon in the net of evening is to
make plans. The fianeur in planning.
(M3a,2)
T he courtyard of Ihe Tuileries: " immense savannah planted with lampposts in.
stead of banana trees." Paul-Erncst tie Rallier, Puris tI 'exilte pus (Paris, 1857).
o Gas 0
[M3,5)
Passage Colbert: "The gas lamp illuminating it looks like a coconut palm in the
middle of a savannah ."O Gas OLe Livre del cent-et· utl (Paris, 1833), vol. 10, p. 57
(Amooee Kennel , " Les Passages de Paris").
rM3 ,6)
Lighting in thc Passage Colbcn : "I admire the regular series of those crystal
globes, which give off a light both vivid and gentle. Couldn't the same be said of
comets in battJe formation, awaiting the signal for departure to go vagabonding
Livre du ant..d-un, vol. 10, p. 5Z Compare this transfonna­
through space?n
tion of the city into an astral world with Grandville's Un Autre Montie. 0 Gas 0
u
[M3,1)
In 1839 it was considered elegant to take a tortoise out walking. TIlls gives us an
idea of the tempo of8anerie in the arcades.
[M3,8)
Gustave Claudin is supposed to have said: " On the day when a fil et ceases to be a
filel and b~o mes a 'chateaubriand ,' when a mutton stew ill called an ' Irish Slew,'
or when the waiter cries out , ' !t1olliteur, clock! ' to indicale Ihal this newspn l.ICr ",as
requested i1y the customer silting under the c1ock--on that day, Pari s will have
been truly tleth rolled! " Jules Clarctie, La. Vie a Pa r j., 1896 ( Paris. 1897), p. 100.
[M 3.9)
"There-on the Avenue des Champs-Elysees-it has stood since 1845: the
Jardin d'Hiver, a colossal greenhouse with a great many rooms for social occa­
I
" Le Corbusier 's houses depend on neither spatial nor plastic articulation: the air
passes through them! Air bccomes a constitutive fa ctor! Wh at mailers, therefore,
i ~ neither spatiality IJer se nor plasticity per se but only r elation and interfusion.
T here is but one indivisible sl)ace. The integuments separating inside fcom outside
fall away. " Sigfried Giedion , B a tten itl Frankreich (Berlin , 1928>, p. 85. (M3a,3)
Streets are the d welling place of the collective. The collective is an etemally
unquiet, eternally agitated being that-in the space becwr:en the building fronts­
experiences, learns, understands, and invents as much as individuals do within
the privacy of their own four walls. For this collective, glossy enamded shop
signs aR a waJ.J decoration as good as, if not better than, an oil painting in the
drawing room of a bourgeois; walls with their "'PoSt No Bills n are its writing desk,
newspaper stands its libraries, mailboxes its bronze busts, benches its bedroom
furniture , and the cafe terrace is the baJcony from which it looks down on its
household. The section of railing where road workers hang their jackets is the
vestibule, and the gateway which leads from the row of courtyards out into the
open is the long corridor that daunts the bourgeois, being for the courtyards the
entry to the chambers of the city. Among these lauer, the arcade was the drawing
rOOm. More than anywhere dse, the street reveals itself in the arcade as the
[M3a,4)
furnished and familiar interior of the masses.
The intoxicated interpenetration of street and residence such as comes about in
the Paris of the nineteenth century- and especially in the experience of the
fianeur--:-has prophetic value. For the new architecture lets this interpenetration
become sober reality. Giedion on occasion draws attention to this: "A detail of
anonymous engineering, a grade crossing, b ecomes an element in the architec­
ture" (that is, of a villa). S. Giedio n, BaUt1l in Fran/mitn <Berlin, 1928>, p. 89.
[M3a,5]
" Hugo, ill I.e, Miserabk" has provided an amazing description of the Faubourg
Saint-Marceau: ' II was no longer a place of 80litude, for there were IH!Opie passing;
it was Dot the country, for there were hou8eR and streets ; it was not a city, for the
st.reets had ruts in them, like the highway8, and grail grew along their border 8; it
was not a village, for the houles were too lofty. What was it then? It was an
inhabited place where there was nobody, it was a d esert place where there wall
somebody; it was a boulevard of the great city, a street of Pari&-wilder at night
than a forest , and ~ oo mie r b y day than a graveyard . '''It <Lucien> Dubeeh and
(M3a,6]
<Pierre> d'Espe1:el, Histoire de Paris (Paris, 1926), p. 366.
"'The last horse-drawn omnibus made its 6nal run on the VllleUNaint SuJpice
line in J anua ry 191 3; the last horse--drawn tram, on the Palltin-O,.era line in April
[M3a,7]
of the same year." Dubech and d ' Espezel, llistoire de Paris, p. 463.
" On January 30, 1828, the fi rs t omnibus began operation on the line running along
the boulevard from the Bastille to the Madeleine. The fare was twenty-five or
thirty cenlinles; the car 8topped where one wished. It had eighteen to twenty seats,
and its route was divided into two stages, with the Saint-Martin gate as midpoint.
The vogue for this invention was elltraordinary: in 1829, the company waa run­
ning fift een lines. and rival companies were offering stiff competition-Tricyclea,
Ecossaise8 <Scots Women>, Bearnaisea <Gascon Women>, Dames Bla nches <Ladies
in White>. Dnbe<:h and d ' Espe1:d , llistoire de Paris, p . 358-359.
[M3a,8]
" After an hour the ga thering broke up, and for the first time I found the streets of
Paris nearl y deserted . On the boulevards I met only unaccompanied persons, and
on the Rue Vivienne at Stock Ma rket Square, wher e by day you have 10 wind your
way tbrough the cr owd . there wasn ' t a soul . I could hear nothing but my own step.
and the murnlUr of founl ains where by day you cannol escape the deafening buzz.
In the vicinity of the Palais Royal I encountered a patrol. The soldiers were ad­
vancing 8 in~ e file along hoth sides of the street , close to the houses, at a distance of
fi ve or Sill paces from one another 80 as not 10 be attacked at the same time a nd so
as to be a ble to render mutual aid. Thi8 reminded me that , at the ver y beginning of
my stay here . I had been advised to proceed in this manner myself a t night when
with several olhers, but . if I had to go home alone, always to take a cab." Eduard
Devrienl , Brief e (IIl..f l'aru (Bcrlin . 1840), p. 248 .
[M4 ,I)
On the omnihuses. " The driver stops and you mount Ihe few steps of the conven­
ienl little staircase and look about for a place in the car, where benches elltend
lengtllwise 011 the right and the left , with room for Ill) 10 sixteen people. You 've
hanlly set foot in the car when il startll rolling again . The conductor has once more
pulled t.he corti , and , with a Iluick movement Ihal causes a bell to sound , he
:Id vances the noodle 0 11 a tra nspa rent diul to indicate that anotller lH!rson has
cntered ; hy thili mea ns lhey kt..'C p trllck of rt..-.:cipts. Now that the car is moving, you
reach calmly into your wa llet 11II t! pay t.he fllre. IJ you happen to be silling reason­
IIbly fllr from Ihe conductor, the mOlley travels frolll halld to hand among the
passengers; the well-dreul:d lad y tll kes it from the workiJlgman in the blue j acket
and passel; it 0 11 . This is all accomplished easily, in routine fashion, and without
a ny bOlher. When someone is to exit , Ihe cOlI<luclor agaill I)UUS the cord and brings
the ca r to a hah . IJ it is going uphill- which iJi Paris it often is-and therefore is
going more slowly, men will cllstomarily c1imh on and off without the car 's having
[M4,2)
to stop ." Eduard Den ient . Briefe tII1.5 Pa ris (Ber lin , 1840), p . 61-62.
..It was after the Ellhihilion of 1867 Ihal olle bega n to see those velocipedes which,
some years later. had a vogue as widespreali as it was short-lived. We may recall
that under the Directory certa in Incroyablcs ll could be seen riding velociferes.
which were bulky, badly constructed velocipedes. On May 19, 18M, a play entitled
Yelocijercs was performcli at the VuudevilJe; it contained a song with this verse:
You, parlisa ns of Ihe gentle gait ,
Coachmen who have 108t the spnr,
Would ),ou now acceienlte
Be)'on(ilhe prompt velocifere?
Lea rn then how to 8uil8tilllte
Delllerit)· for SIJeed.
By the beginning of 1868, however, velocipede8 were in circ ulation , and 800n the
public walkways were everywhere furro wed . Yelocemen replaced boatmen. There
were gymnasia and a rena8 for velocilHldists. and competitions were set up to chal­
lenge the skill of a mateurs.... Today the velociJ»ede is finished and forgotten."
H. Gourdon de Genouillac. Paris tJlra ver s ks ,ieck, (Paris, 1882), vol. 5, p _288.
IM4,"
The peculiar irresolution of the Baneur. Just as waiting seems to be the p roper
state of the impassive thinker, doubt appears to be that o f the Baneur. An elegy by
Schiller contains the phrase : "the hesitant wing o f the butter£ly."L2 This points to
that association o f wingedness with the feeling o f in decision which is so charac­
teristic of h ashish intoxication.
[M4a, I)
E. T. A. Hoffmann as type of the fia.neuf; " Des Vetters Eckfenster" (My Cousin's
Com er Window> is a testamcnt to this. And thus H o ffmann's great su ccess in
France, where there has bcen a special understanding for this type. In the bio­
graphical nOtes to the five-volume editio n of his latcr writings (Brodhag?),L3 we
read: "H offman n was never really a friend o f the great outdoors. \oVhat mattered
to him more than anything else was the human being-communication with,
observations about, thc sin1ple sight of, huma n bcings. VVhenever he went fo r a
walk in sWllmer, which in good weathcr happened every day toward evening,
-
then ... there was scarcdy a tavern or pastry shop where he would no t look in to
see whether anyone-and, if so, who-might be there."
[M4a,2)
Me nilmontanl. " I.n this imme nse quur'icr whe re meager s Rla riell (loom wome n and
childrc JI to ete rnal privation, the Ruc de la C hint: a nd tilOse s lreels whic h join and
cui across it , such as the Rue de8 Partants and that a mazing Rue Orfila . ~o fanta s_
tic with ill roundabouts and its s udden turns, its fcnccs of uneven wood slats , its
uninhabited s ummerhouses. its deserled gardens reclaimed b y nature where wild
shrubs a nd weeds a re growing. sound a note of appeasement and of rare calm . ...
It is a country path under an open sky where most of the people who pass seem to
have eaten and drunk ," J .-K. Hu ysmans, Croquu PClru iem (Paris , 1886), I). 95
("La Rue de la Chine").
[M4a,3]
Dickens. " In his letters. . he complains repeatedly when traveling, even in the
mountains of Switzerland, ... a bout the lac k of Itreet noise, which was indis pen­
sable to him for his writing. ' I can ' t expresl how much I want these [streets] ,' be
wrote in 1846 from Lausan ne. where he was working on one of his greatest novels,
Dombey and Son . ' It seems as if they s upplied lIomething to my brain , which it
cannot bea r, when bU8y, Io lose. For a week or a fortnight 1 can write prodigiou81y
in a retired place ... and a day in London selll me up again and starU me. But the
toil and labor of writing. day after day, without that magic lantern, is Un-­
merue.... My figures seem dis posed to stagnate without crowds about them ....
In Genoa . .. I had two miles of streets at least . lighted at night . to walk a bout in;
and a great theater to repair to , every night ... ·l~ <Fra nz Mehring,> " Charles Dick­
ens ," Die neue Zeit , 30, no. 1 (Stuttgart , 1912). pp . 62 1--622.
(M4a,4]
paving IItolles that are being baked to I)aveour poor bOll.lcvard , whieh is looking8Q
worn! ... As if slroWllg w a~ II ' tnicer whell YOIl walked 0 11 the soil , the way you do
in a garde u!" La Gnll1de YilIe : NOll veau Tablea.1I de Pur;" (Paris . 1844). vol. I ,
p. 334 ("'Al Oitume").
[MS,3]
On tile firs t Olllnibuses: "ComlH!titioll hall alread y emerged ill the forlll of ' Les
IJames Blanches.' ... T heile cars are painted enti.reiy in white, and the drivers,
dressed in ... white, operate a lH!liow6 with t.heir foot that plays the tune from
D(lme Bfallcll e: ' The lady in wllite is looking at you .. .''' Nada r, QU(Jlld j'etail
pllOtQg nl/Jlle ( Paris ( 1900) , I'p. 301- 302 (" 1830 et e nvirons").
[Ms.4]
w
Musset ollce named the scetion of the boulevards that lies lH!hind the Theatre det
Va rietes, and that is 1I0t much fre~lu ented by fl anell rs , t.he Eallt Indies. <See
Mlla ,3. >
(M5,5J
The fiane ur is the observer of the marketplace. His knowledge is akin to the
occult science of industrial fiuctuatiollS . H e is a spy for the capitalists, on assign.
[M5,6]
me nt in the realm of consumers.
The fi1neur and the m asses: here Baudelaire's "R1:ve parisien" might prove very
instructive.
[MS,7]
The idleness of the fhineur is a demonstration against the division of labor.
{M',')
Asphalt was first used for sidewalks.
Brief deacril'tion of misery ; probably under the bridges of the Seine. 14A bohemian
woman sleeps, her head tilted forward , her empty purse between her legs. Her
blouse is covered with pins that glitter in the l un , and the few appurtenances of her
household and toilette--two bruslles. an open knife, a closed till-a re so weD
arra nged that trus IICmblance of order creates a lmost an air of intimacy, the
shadow of an interieur, around her." Marcel J ouhandeau , Image. de Pam (Paris
<1934» , p . 62.
[M5,! )
"( Baudelaire's) ' Le Bea u Navire' <The Good Shil) cr eated quite a stir.... It was
the cue for a whole seriea of sailor songs, which seemed to ha ve Iransformed the
Parisians into mariner s and insl)ired them with dreaml of boating... . In wealthy
Venice where IUl[ury shines, I Wher e golden porticoes glimmer in tile water, I
Where I)alaces of glorious marble reveal I Ma8 terworks of art and treasures di­
vine, I I have only my gondola , I Sprightl y as a bird I That d aru and Aies at its
ease, I Skimming the surface of the wa ters." H . Gourdon de Gellouillac, Le. He­
jraimJ de la r ue. ck 1830 (11870 ( Paril, 1879), pp . 21- 22.
(M5,2)
'''Tell me. what is thai awful stew which smells so ha{lall~1 i!J warllling ill Ihat great
pot?' !Jays a Ilrovillcial "ort to an old IKlrter. 'T hat . my dear sir. is II batch of
{M',' )
"A lown , s uch as Loudon , where a man ma y wander for hours together without
reaching the beginning of the end , without meeti.ng the slightest hint which could
lead to the inference that there is ope n count ry within reach , is a stra nge thing.
This colo88al centraUzation , this heaping together of two and a half millions of
human lH!ings at olle point , has mlliti"lied the power of this two and a half nli.llioD8
a hlllldredfold ; has raised London to t.he commercial capital of tile wor ld, crea ted
the giant clocks and assembled the thousalld vessels that continually cover the
Tha mes .... But the sacrifices which all this has cost becollle apparent later. M ter
roa mil\g th t; s treets of the capital a day or two , ... olle realizes for tile first time
that these Londoners ha ve heen forced to ~acrifice the best 'Iu alities of tllcir hu­
ma n nature to hring to pan all the marvels of civilization .. . . The very turmoil of
the streets has somet hing re pulsive abo ut iI-something agains t whieh hUlllan na­
lure rehels. The hUllIlred s of th ou salld ~ of all classes a nd ranks crowdillg " as t
each other-aren 't they all human beings with the sa llie ~Iu a liti es arltl powers, and
""ith the sallie interest inlH!ing happ y? Arul arell ' t they obligerl, in liJeeluJ, to seek
hllppint;ss in the sallie wa y, lIy Ihe SlIlIIe rlll:aIlS? Allil Hill they crowd hy one
II l10ther as though they had notlling ill COllllllon , nothing to do with one ano ther,
and their only agreement is the tacit one--that each keep to his OWII side of the
"avement , so as not to delay the opposing st reams of the c rowll- while no man
thi.nks to hono r a nother wit h so much as a glance. The brutal indifference, the
unfeeling isolation of eac h in his private interest becomes the mo re repelle nt and
offe nsive, the more I.hese individuals a re cro....ded togl!lhe r within a limited s pace.
And ho ....ever much one ma y be aware that this isolatioll of the individual, this
na rrow self-set':king, is the fundame ntal principle of our society e verywhere, it is
nowhe re 80 shamelessly barefaced , so self-co nscious , as just here in the c rowding
of t he great city." Friedrich Engels, Die Loge der (lrbeihmden Kt(l lle in Englarul,
21111 ed. (Leipzig, 1848), pp. 36-37 (" Die grossen S tiidte" ). I~
[M5a,1]
" By ' bohemians' I mean that class of individuals for whom existe nce is a problem,
circ umstances a myth, and fortun e a n enigma; ....ho have no sort of fixed abode, DO
place of refuge. who belollg nowhere and are me t with everywhe re; who h ave DO
particular calling in life bul follow fifty profession8; who, for the most part , arise
in the morning without knowing where the y are to dine ill t he e vening; who are ricb
today, impoverished tomorrow ; who are ready to live honestl y if they can, and
othe rwise if they cannot ." Adolphe d ' Enner y and Grallge, Les Bohemieru de Paris
<A play in 6ve acts and eight tableaux) (Paris), pp. 8-9 ( L'Am bigu-Comique, Sep­
tember 27, 1843; series entitled Maga.Jin ,healrat).
[M5a,2]
"The n from out of Saint Martin's Gate I The romantic Omnibus Rashed by."
[Leon Cozlan ,] l..e Triomphe de. Omnibus: Poeme heroi:-<:omique (Paris, 1828),
p. 15.
[M6,l]
" When the firs t Ge rman railway line was abo ut 10 be cOliltructed in Bavaria, the
medkal faculty a t Erlange n published an e xpert opinion ... : the rapid movement
would ca u se . . . cerebral disorde rs (the mere 8ight of a train rushing by could
already do this), a nd it was therefore lIecessary, at the 1e88t , 10 build a wooden
barrier five feet high 011 both sides of the track. " Egoll Friedell , Kuhurge&chichle
[M6,2]
Jer Neuzeil (Munich , 193 1), vol. 3 , p . 91.
" Beginning around 1845 . . . there we re railroads and &learners in all parts of
Europe, and the new means of transport we re celebra ted .... Pictures, letters,
storietl of travel were the preferred genre for authors alld reade rs." Egon FriedeU,
Kut,"rgeschich,e der Netu.ei, (Munic h , 1931), vol. 3 , p . 92 .
[M6,3)
The following observation typifies the concerns of the age: "When one. is sailin~
on a river or lake, one's body is without active movement .... The skin ~n'
ences no contraction, and its pores remain wide open and capable of absorbmg
all the emanations and vapors o f the surrounding environment. The blood ...
remains ... concentrated in the cavities of the chest and abd omen, and reaches
the exunnities with difficulty." J..F. Dancd, lk l'/rifluenu des uoyageJ Jur I'homTM
et Jur JeJ makuiiu: Ouurage Jpicia/emen/ deJ/ini aux genJ du mouth (paris, 1846),
p. 92 ("Des Promenades en bateau sur les lacs et les rivieres").
[M6,4)
Rema rkable distinction betwet':n fHine ur a lld rubbe rn e<:k (badaud); " Let U 8 1I0t .
ho wever, cOllfuse the fl iine ur with the rubbe rn e<:k : there is a s ubtle diffe re nce... .
The ave rage fliin e ur ... is alwa ys in fu ll pos~s ion of his individuality. while Ihat
of the rubberneck di8aplJea rs, absorbetl by the external ....o rld , ... which moves
him 10 the po int of intoxication alld et:stasy. Unde r t.he influe nce of the 8lJeC tacle,
the rubbernet:k OC'f:omes an impe nollal being. He is no 10llger a man- he is the
public; he i8 the cro wd . At a distance from natu.re, ltis lIai\"e soul aglow, ever
inclined to reve rie, ... the true rubberneck deserves the admira tion of all upright
allli sincere hearu ." Vic tor Fournel, Ce (In 'On vOil Ilmu le$ n U?$ de P(lru (Paris,
1858), p . 263 ("L'Od yssoo <1 ' 1111 Aalle ur d a ns lea rues lIe Paris") .
[M6,5]
The phantaSmagoria o f the Bancur: to read from faces thc profession, the ances­
try, the character.
[M6,6)
1.11 1851 1- there ....a8 &liU a regular stage<:oac h Iille het....eell Paris and Ve nice.
[MG,' )
011 the coilwrtage pheno mellon of s pace: "'The sense of mY8tery, ' ....ro te Odilon
Redon, who had learned the secret from da Vinci, 'co mes from remainillg always
ill the equivocal, with double a nd triple perspectives, or inklings of persl)C(:tive
(images within images)--forms that lake shape and come into being according to
the state of mind of the 8pe<:tator. All thillgs more sugges tive just because they do
appea r. '" Cited in Ra ymond Escholie r, " Arti8te," Aru et melier$ graphiq~&. No.
47 (June I, 1935), p. 7.
[M6a, l ]
The flalleur at night. " Tomorrow, perhaps, ... noctambulism will have had its
day. But a t least it will be lived to the full during the thirty or forty years it will
lasl. . . . The individual call rest from time to ti me; stopping places a nd waysta­
tiOIiS are pe rmitted him. But he does not have the right to sleep." Alfred Delvau,
Les He"res pa,uiermes (Pa ris. 1666). pp. 200, 206 ("Deux Heu res de matin").­
That nightlife was s ignificalltly e1(tended is e vide nt already from tbe fact that , a8
Delvau recounts (p . 163), the stores were cl08ing a t ten o' clock .
[M6a, 2]
In the musical revue by Barre, Rade t, alld Desfontaines , M. DurelieJ, ou Petite
Revue des embeUiuemen& de Paris ( Paris, 1810), pe rformed a t the Thea tre de
Va ud,?viUe on June 9, 1810, Pari8 in tile form of a mod el constructed by 1\1. Dure·
lief has migrated in to the scenery. The cllOrus det:l llre~ " how agreeable it is to have
all of Paris in one's drawing room" (I" 20). The plot re volves a round a wage r
het wttl1 t he a rchitect Durelief and tile pai nte r Fe rdinand ; if the fonne r, in hi8
nlodel of Paris, omits an y sort of " embellishment," then his daughter Victorine
straightaway belollgs to .'erdinalld, ....ho othe rwise has to wait two yea rs for her. It
tu r n8 out th at I>urelief has forgotte n Her Maj esty the t: mpress Ma rie Lo ui8e, " the
OJost beautiful orna me.nt " of Paris.
(M6a,3)
The city is the realization of that ancient dream of humanity, the labyrinth. It is
this reality to which the 8:ineur, without knowing it, d evo tes himself. Wit.hout
knowing it; yet nothing is more foolis h than the conventionaJ thesis which ration­
alizes his behavior, and which forms the uncontested basis of that voluminous
literature that traces the figure and demeanor of the flineur- the thesis, namely,
that the Bineur has made a study of the physiognomic appearance of people in
order to discover their nationality and social station, character and destiny, from
a perusal of their gait, build, and play of features. The interest in concealing the
true motives of the Baneur must have been pressing indeed to have occasioned
such a shabby thesis.
(M6a,4)
In M axim e Du Camp's poem "Le Voyageur,'" the flineur wears the costume o f
the traveler:
"I am afraid to stop-it's me engine afmy life;
Regarding the legend of tile fl iineur: " Wit.h the aid of a word 1 overhear in passing,
1 reconstruct all entire COll versation, a n entire el(istence. The inflection of a voice
slIfflces for me to attach the name of a deadly sin to the man "..hom I have just
jostled and whose profile I glimpsed ." Victor Fournel, Ce qu'on voir dam les rue"
tie Pu rU (Pa ris, 1858), p. 270.
(M7,8)
In 1857 there was still a coach departing from the Rue Pavee.Saint-Andre at 6 A. M.
for Venice; the trip took sil( weeks. See Fournel, Ce qu 'on voit dam le, rue, de
Paru (Parili), p. 273.
[M7,9]
In omnibuses, a dial that indicated the number of passengers. Why? As a control
Love galls me so; 1 do not want to 10\.'C."
"Move on men, on with your bitter travels!
The sad road awaits you : meet your fa~."
Maxime Du Camp, Ul ChanlJ modmuj (Paris, 1855), p. 104.
DiderOI '& " How beautiful the IItroot!" is a favorite phra8e of the chroniclers of
fHi nerie.
IM7,7)
for the conductor who distributed the tickets.
[M7, l )
Lithogra ph. Cabmen Doing Baule with Omnibw Drivers . Cabinet def! Estampet.
IM7,2)
As early as 1853 , there are offl cial sta tisticll concerning vehicular traffi c at certain
Parisia n nerve centeTtl . " 'n 1853, thirty-one omnihus lines were serving Paris, aDd
it is worlh noting that , with a few el(CeptioDs, these lines were designated by the
same Jen ers used for the autobu8 Lines operatin~ at that time. ThUll it was that the
' Madeleine-8 astille' Line was already Line E." Paul d 'Ariste, La Vie e' I.e mOnM
du boulevard. 1830-1870 (Paris <1930», p . 1%.
[M7,3j
At conne<:ting Itations for the omnibus, passengers were called up in numerical
ordcr and had to answer when called if they wanted to preserve their right to a
[M7,4)
seal. (1855)
" The absinthe hour .
dates from the burgeoning ... of the small press. In
earlicr timcs, "..hclI there was nothing but large serious newspapers , .. . there w~.
11 0 ahsinthe hour. This heure de l 'ab$inthe is the logical consequence of the Pan­
sian gossip columns and tabloids." Gabriel Guillemot , Le Boheme (Paris, 1869),
p. 72 (" Physiognomies pa risielilles").
[M7,5)
Louis Lurine U 'Ti-eizibne Ammdwemcll de ParU (Paris, 1850), is one of the most
noteworthy ;estimonials to the distinctive physiognomy o f the neighbo rhood.
TIle book has certain stylistic peculiarities. It personifies the quartier. Fo~ulas
like "The thirteenth arront[w emrnl d evotes itself to a man's love only when It can
fu m ish him with vices to love" (p. 2 16) art: not unusual. L1
[M7,6]
[M7,IO]
" It is worth remarking ... that the omnibus seems 10 subdue and to still all who
approach it. Those who make their living from travelers ... can be r ecognized
ordinarily by their coarsc rowdiness ... , bul omnibus employees, virtually alone
among transit workers, display no trace of such behavior. It seems as though a
calming, drowsy influence emanates from this heavy machine, like that which
semis marmots and turtles to sleep at the onliel of winter." Victor Fournel, Ce
qu 'on voil dum tes rues de ParU (Paris, 1858), p. 283 (" Cochers de fia cre.,
cachers de remise et cochers d 'omnibu. ").
[M7a, l j
" At the time Eugene Sue 's Mysteres de P"ru was published, no one, in certain
neighborhoods of the capital , doubted the existence of a TortiUard, a Chouette, a
Prince Rodolphe." Cha rles lAuandre, Les Idees subversive" ch notre temps
[M7a,2]
(Paris, 1872), p. 44.
The first proposal for an omnibus system ca me from Pascal and was realized
under lAuis XIV, with tile characteristic restriction " that soldiers, pages, foot ­
men, and other livery, including laborer. and hired hands, were not permitted
entry into said coaches." In 1828, introduction of the omnibuses, about which a
l)Oster tells us: " These vehicleB ... warn of their ap proach by sounding Bpec.iaUy
designed horns." Eugclle d 'Auriac, I-li"' oire "necdotique de l'indwlrie!ramiaue
(Paris , 1861). Pl' . 250,28 1.
[M7a,3]
Among the phantoms of the city is "Lambertn- an invented figure , a Baneur
perhaps. In any case, he is allotted the boulevard as the scene of his apparitions.
There is a fanlOus couplet with the refrain, "Eh, Lambert!n Delvau, in his Lioru
dUjour <Paris, 1867>, devotes a paragraph to him (p. 228).
[M7a,4)
A rustic figure in the urban scene is described by Ddvau in his chapter "Le
Pauvre cheval n dbo r Man on H orseback>, in us Lion.J duj our. "11lis horseman
a
was a poor devil whose means forbade his going on foot, and who asked for alms
as another man might ask for directions.... This mendicant ... on his litde nag,
with its wild mane and its shaggy coat like that of a rura1 do nkey, has long
remained before my eyes and in my imagination.... H e died-a rentier." Alfred
Delvau, Les Lioru dujour (Paris, 1867), pp. 116-117 ("Le Pauvre! cheva1").
[M7a,5]
Looking to accentuate the Parisians' new feding for nature, which rises above
gastronomical temptations, Rattier writes: U.A pheasant, displaying jtself at the
door of its leafy dwdling, would make its gold·and·ruby plumage sparkJe in the
sunlight ... , so as to greet visitors ... like a nabob of the forest." Paul·Ernest de
Rattier, Paris n'exutt pa.s (Paris, 1857), pp. 71-72. Grandville 0
[M7a,6]
o
" It is emphatically not the counterfeit Paris that will have produced the rubber­
neck . . . . As for the f1ineur, who wa, always--on the sidewalk, and before the
dilplay windowt-a man of no account, a nonentity addicted to charlatanl and
ten-cent emotionl, a stranger to aU that was not cobblestone, cab . or gas lamp, .. .
he hal become a laborer, a wine grower, a manufacturer of wool , sugar, and iron.
fi e is no longer dumbfounded at natu re's ways. The germination of a plant no
longer seems to him external to the factory methods used in the Faubourg Saint­
Denis." Paul-Ernest de Rattier, PariJ n 'uute pas (Paris. 1857), pp. 74-75.
[M8,!)
In his pamphlet Le Sieck maudi! (Paris, 1843), which takes a stand against the
corruption of contemporary society, Alexis Dumesnil makes use of a fiction of
Juvenal's: the crowd on the boulevard suddenly stops still, and a record of each
individual's tho ughts and objectives at that particular moment is compiled
(pp. 103-104).
[M8~)
" The contradiction between town and country ... is the craslest expression of the
, ubje<:tion of the individual to the division of labor. to a specific activity forced
upon him-a subjcction that makes one man into a n arrow-minded city animal.
another into a narrow-minded country animal." <Karl Marx and Friedrich Engell.
Die deuuche Ideowgie) in Marx-Engels Archiv. vol. I , ed. D. Rjazanov (Frank­
furt am Main ( 1928» , pp . 271-272. 1&
(M8.l]
At the Arc d e Triomphe: "Ceaselessly up and down these streel8 parade the cabri­
olets . omnibuses, swallows, velocifere8, citadines, dame. blanche., and aU the
other public conveyances , whatever they may he called- not to nlention the innu­
merable whiskies. be rlins. barouches. horsemen , and horsewomen. " L. Rellslab,
PariJ im Friihjahr 1843 (Leipzig, 1844), vol. I, p. 212. The author also mention.
an omnibus that carried its destination written on a Rag.
[M8,"]
Around 1857 (see H. de Pene, PariJ intime [Paris, 1859). p . 224). the upper level
of the onlllibUI was closed 10 women .
[M8,S]
A Paris omnibw. Lithograph by Honore Daumier, 1856. The caption reads: "Fifteen
centimes for a full bath! My word. what a bargain!" Stt M8,5.
"The genial Vautrin. disguised as the abbe CarlOI Herrera , had foreseen the Pari­
liam' infatuation with public transport when he invested aU his fundi in transit
companies in order to settJe a dowry on Lucien de Ru bemprc." Poete, Beaure­
paire, Clouzot, and B ennot, Une Promenade a .rauer. Paris au temps de, ro­
mantiques: EXIJosition de la Bibliotheque e l des Travullx hiJloriques de la Ville de
Paris (1908), p. 28.
[M8,6]
"lberefore the one who sees, without hearing, is much more ... worried than
the one who hears without seeing. This principle is o f great imponance in under­
standing the sociology of the modem city. Social life in the large city ... shows a
great preponderance of occasions to JU rather than to hear people. One explana­
tion ... of special significance is the development of public means of transporta­
tion. Before the appearance of omnibuses, railroads, and streetcars in the
ninctttnth century, men "..rere not in a situation where, for minutes or ho urs at a
time, they could or must look at one another without talking to one another."
G. Simmel, MilangtJ de phiiOJophie riiatiuute: Contribution a la culture phiiOJo­
Phique <trans. Alix Guillain) (Paris, 1912), pp. 26-27 ("Essai sur 1a sociologie des
SCns").I' The state of affairs which Simme1 relates to the condition of uneasiness
and lability has, in other respects, a ce.r tain part to play in the vulgar physiog·
nomy. The difference between this physiognomy and that of the eighteenth
century deserves study.
[M8a,! ]
" Pa ris ... dresses UI) a ~hos t in old numbers of Le Cons litutionnel. and produces
Chodruc Duclos." Victor Hugo, Oeuvres completes. novels. vol. 7 (Paris, 1881 ),
p . 32 (Les Miserabk•. ch . 3).%0
[M8a,2]
On Victor Hugo: "The morning, for him , was consecr ated to sedentary lahors, the
afternoon to labors of wandering. He adored the upper levels of omnibuses-those
' traveling balconies,' as he called them- from which he could study at his leisure
the various aspects of the gigantic city. He claimed that the deafening brouhaha of
Paris produced in him the same effeet as the sea ." Edouard Drumont , Figure. de
bron;;e ou statue, de neige (Paris c19()(h), p . 2S ("Victor I-Iugo").
[M8a,3}
Separate existence of each quarti.er: a round the middJe of the century it was still
being said of the De Saint-Louis that if a girl there lacked a good reputation, sbe
had to seek her future husband outside the district.
[M8a,4]
UO nigbt! 0 refresbing da rkness! ... in the stony lab yrinths of the metropolis,
scintillation of stars, bright hursts of city lights, you are the fi reworks of the
godden Liberty!" Charles Baudelaire, Le Spken de Paris, ed . Hilsum (Paris),
p. 203 (uLe Crepuscule du soir").!1
[M8a,5]
Names of omnibuses around 1840. in Gaetan Niepovie. Etude. physwwgique,.W'
lessmrnles metropoks de l'Europe occidentale (Pa ris, 1840), p . 11 3: Parisiennes,
Hirondelles <Swallown, Citadines. Vigilantes cGuardianesses), Aglaias. Deltas.
[MSa,6]
Paris as landscape spread oul below tbe painters : " As you crou the Rue Notre­
Dame-dc-Lorette, lift up your head and direct your gaze at one of those platforma .
crowning the Italianate houses. You cannot fail to notice, etched against the sky
seven stories above the level of the pavements , something resembling a scarecrow
stuck out in a field .... At first you see a dressing gown upon which all the colors of
the rainbow are blended ""ithout harmony. a pair of long trousers of outlandish
shape, and slippers impossible to describe. Under this burlesque apparel hidel a
you ng painter. " Poris chez loi (Paris cl 854), pp . 19 1-192 (AJberic Second , "'Rue
[M9.1]
Notre-Dame-de-Lorette").
Geffro y, under the impression made by the works of Mer yo n : " These are repre­
sented thing5 which give to the viewer the possibility of dreaming them." Gustave
Gerrro y. Ch«rles Meryon (Paris . 1926). p . 4.
[M9,2]
" The omnibus--that Leviathan of coach""ork--crisscrones with all the many car­
riages at the speed of hghtning!" Theophile Gautier [in Edollard Fournier, Paris
demoli. 2nd cd ., with a preface by M. Theophile Gautier (Paris. ISSS), p . iv] .
(This preface a l'lteared- llrcsumably as a review of the first edition-in Le
Moniteltr universel of J an uary 2 1. 18So' . It would ap,tear to be wholly or in part
identical to Gautier 's " J\1osalllue de ruines:' in I'aris et Ie. ParisieJJ.J au XIX' .iecle
[ Paris, 18S6].)
[M9,3]
"The most heterogeneous temporal elements thus coexist in the cit)'. If we step
from an eightt:cnth-century house into one from the sixtccnth century, we tumble
down the slope of time. Right next door 81alld8 II Gothic church , and we sink to the
depths. A few steps fa rther, we are in a street from Ollt of the early years of
Bi8nul.rck's rule ...• and once again climbing the mountain of time. Whoever lets
foot in a city ft.:e ls caught up as in a web of dreams. where the most remote past is
linked to the evenlil of toda y. One house allies with a nother, no matter what period
they come from , a nd a street is born . And thcn insofar as this street , which may go
back to the age of Goethe. runs into another, which may da te from the Wilhelmine
years, the dinrict enlerges . . . . The climactic l)(Jints of the city are its squares:
here, from every direction , converge not onl y numcrous streets but aU the litreams
of their history. No sooner have they flowed in than they are contained ; the edgea
of the square serve as qua ys, so that already the outward form of the square
provides information about the history that was played upon it .... Thingll which
fmd no expression ill political events, or find onl y minimal expl"C8sion , unfold in
the cities: they are a superfin e instrument , respunsive as an Aeolian harp----des pite
their specifiCgravity-Io the living historic vibrations of the air." Ferdinand Lion,
Ge.schichte biowgUch sesehen (Zurich and Leipt.ig (1935), pp. 125--126, 128
("Notiz fiber Stiidte").
[M9,4]
Delvau believes he can reeognize the social strata of Parisian liociety in flin erie as
easily as a geologist recognizes geological strata.
[M9a,l]
The mall of letters: "The most poignant realities for him are not spectacles but
studies." AJfred Delvau, Le. Deuou, de Pori, (Paris. IS60). p. 121.
[M9a,2]
"A man who goes for a walk ought not to have to concern himself with any h aurds
he may run into or with tile regulations of a city. If a n am using idea enters his
head . if a curious shopfront comes into view, it is natural that he would want to
cross the street without confronting dangers such as our grandpare nts could not
have imagined . But he cannot do this today without taking a Ilundred preca utions.
without cll(.'C king the horizon , without asking thc advice of the police department,
without mixing with a dazed and breathless hcrtl , for whom the way is marked out
ill advance by bits of shining metal. If he tries to collect the whimsical thoughts
tha t may have come to mind. ver y pos~i bl y occa~io ned by sigh ts on the street , he is
deafent:tl hy car horus. stllpefied by loud talkers. ., and demoralized by tile
8craps of COn\·cr sation . of political meetingll. of jazz . which escalte slyly from the
windows. In former tim(.", moreo\'er. his brothers. the rubbernecks. who amhled
along 80 easily down the sidewalks and stopped II. moment ever ywhere. lent to the
5lrealO of humanit y a gentleness and II. tramillillit y which it has lost . Now it is a
lorrenl where yOIl are rollefl, buITeled . calJl up. and IJwel'1 to one lJide alld the
olher." Edm ond Jalou.lC, "Le Dernier F1iineur," I.e Teml}$ (May 22 , 1936).
{M9a,3)
" To leave without being for ced in a ny way, and to follow your inspiration alJ if the
mere fact of turning right or turning left already conlJtiluted an eSlentially poetic
act. " Edmond Jaloux , "Le Derllier F1.iille ur," Le Temp$ (May 22 , 1936). {M9a,4)
hoots or , hoes, a fa rmer that he is going to fertilil!:eand plough his land . Let us take
a still more striking exa mple: genius is a sorl of imma terial sun whose rays give
color to everythi ng passing hy. Cannot lin idiot be immediately recognized by
characteristics which are the OPI)()site of those shown by a man of genius? ... Most
ohlerva nt people, SlUdents of social nature in Paris, are able to tell the profC8sion
of a passe rhy as they see him a pproach ." Honore d e Balzac, Le COlu in Pons. in
Oeuvres cOlliplete", vol. 18, Scene$ de ro vie /mrisumne, 6 (Paris. 1914), p . 130 .2~
[MIO,4)
" Dickens . . . could not remain in Launnne because, in order to write hia novela,
he needed the immense labyrinth of London streets where he could prowl aboul
continuously. .. Thomas De Quincey ... , as Baudelaire tells us, was ' a sort of
peripatetic, a street philosopher pondering his wa y endlessly through the vortex of
the great city."':t: Edmond Jaloux, " Le Dernier F1.iineur," Le Temp" (May 22,
1936).
IM9a,5)
" Taylor's obsession , and that of his colla bor atoTl and succeason, is the ' war on
Hi nerie.· f t Geor ges Friedmann , La Crise du progreJ ( Paris (1936), p . 76.
IMIO,l )
T he urban in Balzac: " Nature a ppean to him in iu magical aspect as the arcanum
of matter. It appeal"!! to him in iu symbolic aspect as the reve rberation of human
energies and aspirations: in the crashing of the ocean's waves . be experiencea the
'exa ltation of humall forces'; and ill tile show of color and fragran ce produced by
flowers, he reads the cipher of love'. longing. Always, for him , natu re signifiea
something other, an intimation of spirit . The opposite movement he doea not nc·
ognize: the immersion of the human back into nature, the saving accord with s taTS,
clouds, winds. He was far too engroased b y the tensions of human existence."
Erns t Robert Curtius, Balzac (Bonn , 1923) , pp. 468-469.
[M IO,2}
" Balzac lived a life .. . of fllri ous has te a nd premat ure collapse, a life such as that .
impoled on the inha bitants of big cities by the atruggle for existence in modern
society.... In Balzac's caae we see, for the first time, a geniua wllo sh area auch •
life and lil'e8 it as his own ." Ernst Robert Curtiua, Balzac (Bonn . 1923), pp . 464­
465. On the (Iuestion of h!lnpo , compare the foUowing: " Poetry and art ... derive
from a ' quick inspection of thi ngs.' ... In Seraphila. velocity is introduced as an
easential featu re of artistic intuition : " that ' mind's eye' whoae rapid perception
CIUl engender within the 80ul . as on a canvas , the most diverle landscapes of the
{MIO,3)
world. "2l Ernsl Robert Curtius, Banac (Bonn , 1923). p . 445.
. Ym
. ..IU: S p h YSlOgnomy,
.
why
" If God . . . has imprinted every man ,s d esllll
...
.
. . If '
the hand
shouldn' t the human hand sum up that phYSiognomy
In Itle , Blllce
~;omprises human action in its e ntirety and is its sole nleans of mallifestatio~?
UCllce pnhuis try. . .. To foretell the events of a man 's life from tile stud y of hiS
hand is a feat ... 110 more extraord.ill ar y t.hantelling a soldier he is going to fight,
a harrister that he is going to plead a cause, a cobbler that he is goillg to make
;'What men call love ia very small , ve ry reatricted , and very weak cOnll)arW with
this ineffabl e orgy. this holy prostitution of the soul which gives iUeif entirely,
poetry aud cha rit y, to the unforeseen that reveals itself, to the unknown that
happens along." Ch arles Baudelaire, Le Spleen de Paris, ed . R . Simon, p . 16
("Les Foules" ).:!S
{MIOa,! )
" Which of us, in his nlOmeDU of ambition , haa not dresnled of the miracle of a
IlOetic proae , musical, without rhythm and without rhyme, s upple enough and
rugged enough to adapt itlelf to tile lyrical impul8C8 of the soul. the undulationa of
reverie, the jibes of conscience? I It was, above all. 01lt of my exploration of huge
cities, oul of the medley of tbeir innumerable interrelatio ns, that this haunting
ideal was bOrll." Charles Baudelaire. Le Spleen ck Paris, ed . R. Simon , pp. 1-2
("A Arscne Houssaye").:u.
(MIOa,2)
'"There is nothing more profound , more mysterious, more pregnant , more inaidi·
more dazzling than a window lighted by a aingle candle." Charlea Baudelaire,
I.e Spleen de Paris. ed . R . Simon (Paris), p . 62 ("Les Fenetrea" ).z7
[MlOa,3)
O U8.
"The artis t seeks eternal troth and knows nothing of the eternit y in his midat. He
admirea the column of the Babylonian temple and scorns the smokestack on the
fa ctory. Yet what is the diffe rence in their lines? Wlren the era of coal. powered
illtlus try is over. people wiD admire tile vestigea of the las t amokestackB, aa today
we admire the remains of temple columns . . . . The ateam vapor 80 detested b y
writers allows them to divert their admiration .... Instead of waiting to visit lhe
n ay of Bengal to find objects to exclaim over, they might have a little curiosity
a bout the objects tlley see in dail y life. A porter at Ihe Gare de l' Est is no Ie..
pictures((ue tha n a coolie in Colombo.... To walk oul your front door as if yo u 've
just arrived from a foreign counl ry; to discover the world in which you already
li \'c; 10 begin the da y as if yo u' ve just gotlell off the boat from Singapore and h ave
lIever seen your 0\0\' 11 d oormat or the people on the landing ... - il is this that
re \'eals the humanity be fore yo u , unknown until now." Pierre Hamp, " La Littera·
lure, image de la societe" (Encyclopidiefrutl f,aise, vol. 16, Aru el littera lurel
dwu 1(1 $ocie le corl/emporaine, I, p . 64).
[M lOa,4}
Chesterto n fas tens 011 a s pecimen of Englisll a rgot to characlerize DickenlJ ill his
relation to the street : " He has the key to the stree t" is aaid of someone to whom the
door is closed. " Dickens himself had . in the most sacred and serious sense of the
term , lIle key to the street ... . His earth was the stones of the street ; his stars were
the lamps of the street ; his hero was the man in the street. He could olJen the
inlllost door of his hou se-the door thai leads into t.hal 8et:ret pau age which is
lined wilh houses and roofed with stars." G. K . Chestertoll, Dick em . series enti_
tled Vies des hommes iliwtres. vol. 9 , translated from tile English by Laurent and
Martin-DupOIlI (Paris, 1927), p . 30.:!II
[MU ,I]
Dickens as a child: " Whenever he had done drudging, he had no Otller resource but
drifting, and he drifted over half London . He was a dreamy child . thinking mostly
of his own dreary prospects . ... He did not go in for ' observation,' a priggish
habit ; he did not look at Charing Cross to improve his mind or count the lamp_
posts in .-Iolborn to practice his arithmetic . But unconsciously he made all these
places the scenes of the monstrous drama in his miser able little soul . He walked in
darkness under the lamps of Holborn , and was crucified at Charing Cr088. So for
rum ever afterwards these places had the beaut y that onl y belongs to battlefields,"
G. K. Chesterton, Dickens , series entitled Vie des hommes illus tres , vol. 9, tran8­
lated from the English by Laurent and Martin-Dupont (Paris, 1927), pp. 30-31."
(Mll ,2]
On the psychology of the (laneur: ''The und ying scenes we can all see if we shut our
eyes are not the scenes that we have stared at under the d irection of guide-boob;
the scenes we see are the scenes at which we did not look at all- the scenes in which
we walked when we were thinking about something else--about a sin , or a love \
affair, or some childish sorrow. Wecan see the background now because we did not
see it then . So Dickens did not stamp these places on his mind ; he stamped hi.
mind on these places." G. K. Chesterton , Dick ens, series entitled Vie des homme.
ill.LStres. vol. 9, translated from the English b y Laurent and Martin-Dupont
(Paris, 1927), p . 3l. JO
(Mll .3]
Dickens: " In May of 1846 he ran over to Swit:.r:erland and tried to write Domber
and Son at Lausanne.. . . He could not get on . He attributed this especiaUy to hia
love of London and his loss of it, ' the absence of streets and numbers of
figures . .. . My figures seem disposed to stagnate without crowds about them.'"
G. K. Chesterton , Dickens. translated from the English by Laurent and Martin­
Dupont (Paris. 1927), p . 125. 31
{MIl a, l]
" In ... u Voyage de MM . Dunanan pere etfils, two provincials are deceived into
thinking that Paris is not Paris but Venice, which they had set out to visit. . ..
Paris as an intoxication of aU the senses, as a place of delirium ." S. Kracauer,
Jacques Offenbach lind das Paris ,einer Zeit (Amsterdam , 1937), p. 283.32
(Mll a,2]
According to a remark by Mussel, the "East Indies" begin at a point beyond the
boundary o r the boulevards. (Shouldn't it be called instead the Far East?) (See
Kracauer, Q{fen bach, p. 105.)33
{Mll a,3]
Kr acatu:r writes tl,at " the boulevardiers ... eschewed ll at ure . . . . Nature was a8
PIU IOUic , as volcanic, as the peop le." S. Kracauer , Jacques Offenbach (Amster­
dalll . 1937), p . 107.3'
[MlI a,4]
0 11 the detet:ti ve now:l: " We must take as an established fa ct tha t this m etamor~
phosis of the city is due to a trallspositioll of the setting-namely, from the sa van ­
(wll a nd fo rest of Fellimore Cooper, where every b roken branch signifies a worry
0 1" a hope, where ever y tree trunk hilles an enemy rille or the bow of an invisible
alld silellt a\<enger. Beginning with Balzac, aU writers ha ve clearly recorded this
deht and faithfu lly rendered to Cooper wha t they owed him. Wor ks like us lUohi.­
CO Il S de Paris. by Alexa nder Dumas-works where the title saY8 all- are ex­
tremely common. " Roger Caillois, " Pari8, my the moderne," Nouvelle Revue
f rOlI{llise, 25, no. 284 (May I , 1937), pp . 685-686.
(MUa,S]
Owing to the influence of Cooper, it becomes possible fo r the novelist in an
urban setting to give scope to the experiences of the hunter. This has a bearing on
the rise of the detective story.
(M lla,6]
" It seellls r easonable to say that there exists . . . a phantasmagorical repre­
sentation of Paris (and , more generally, of the big city) with such power over the
imagination that the questioll of its accuracy would never be posed in practice--a
representation created entirely by the book , yel so widespread as to make up .. ,
part of the coUective mental atmospher e:' Roger Caillois, " Paris, mythe mod­
erne," Nouvelle Revue fran f< aise, 25, no. 284 (May I , 1937), p. 684.
(M12,1]
''The Faubourg Saint-J acques is one of the most primitive s uburbs of Pari8. Why
is that? Is it bet:ause il is surrounded by four hospitals as a citadel is surrounded
by four bastions, and these hospitals keep the tourists away from the neighbor­
hood ? h it bet:ause, leading to 110 major artery alltl terminating in no center, . . .
the place is rarel y visited by coaches? Thus, as soon as one apl)Cars in the di8tance,
the lucky urchin who spies it first cups his hands around rus mouth and gives a
Signal tu aU the inhahitants of th e faubourg, just as, 011 the seashore, the one who
first spots a sail UII the horizon gives a signal to the other s." A. Dumas,
Mohi­
CU ll S de Pa ris, vol. I (Paris, 1859), p . 102 (ch . 25: " Oil il est question des sau vages
du Fu·ulHHlrg Saint-Jacques"). The chapler describes nothing but the arrival of a
piano before a hOllse in the district. No Olle sllspect8 that the object is a musical
instrumcnt , but aU are ellraptJlI·ell by tim sight of "a huge piece of mahogany"
(I' . 103). For mallOgan y furnitu re W 8!l as yet hardly known in this quartier.
[MI2 ,2J
us
1'h c first words of a n advertisement for LeI MohicUII S de Paris: " Paris-The Mo­
hicans!
. Two na mes as discordant a8 the qui vive of two gigantic unknowns,
confronting each other at tile brink of an ab yss tra\<en,ed by thai electric light
whose source is Alexandre Dumas.!'
{M 12,3]
I<' rontispiece of t.he dtird volume of Lel Mohit;:(11U de Pu n.. (paris, 1863): " The
Virgjn Forest" [of the Rue d'Enfer ].
[MI2,4)
" What wOllderful precautions! What vigilance! What ingenious preparations and
keen a ttention to detail! The Nurth American savage who. even as he muves,
ubliterates his footprints in order to elude the enemy at his heels is not more
skillful or more meticulous in his precautions." Al£red 'ettt:ment , EliUles sur Ie
!elliUelon-roman. vol. I (Paris, 1845), p. 419.
(MI2,5)
Vigny (according to Mi88 Corkran , Celeb rities and I <London , 1902), cited in
L. Seche, A. de Vlgny, vol. 2 (Paris, 191 3). p . 295). on viewing the chinmeY8 of
I")aris; " I adore these chimneys ... . Oh, yes, the smoke of Paris is more beautiful
to me than the solitude of forests and mountains. "
[M12,6)
One does well to consider the detective story in conjunction with the methodical
genius of Poe, as Val~ry does (in his introduction to Les Fleurs du mal [Paris,
1928], p. xx): "To reach a point which allows us to dominate a whole field of
activity necessarily means that one perceives a quantity of possibilities .. .. It is
therefore not surprising that Poe, possessing so ... sure a method, became the
inventor of several different literary forms-that he provided the first ... exam­
ples of the scientific tale, the modem cosmogonic poem, the detective novel, the
literarure of morbid psychological states."u
[MI2a,I)
Concerning Poe't " Man of the Crowd ," thit p u sage from an article in La Semaine
of October 4, 1846, attributed to Balzac or to Hippolyte CastiUe (cited in Meuac
d..e " Detective Novel" et l'injluence de III pelUee scientifique [ Paris, 1929]>.
p. 424) : " Our eye ill fixed on the man in society who moves a mong laws. snares , the
betraYllls of his confedera tet, as a savage in the New World moves among r eptiles,
ferocious beasts , and enemy trIDes."
(MI 2a,2]
Chapter 2. " Physiognomie de III rue ." in the Argument dll livre sllr la Belgique:
"Washing of the sidewalks lind the fu !,";tdes of houses , eve" whcn it rains in tor­
rents. A national mania , a IIniversallllllllia . ... No display windows in the shops.
FHi nerie, so dear to nation! cndowetl wit.h imagination . impossihle in Brussels;
nothing to sec, and the roads impossible." Baudelaire. Oeuvres. vol. 2. cd . Y.-G.
Le Dllntec <Paris . 1932), pp . 709-7 10.
(MI2a,5)
Le Breton reproaches B a l~ac with havi ng offered the reader " an e.xcesa of Mohi­
cans in spencer j ackets a nd of IrO<luois in frock coats." Cited in Regis Mesuc, Le
"Detective Novel" et I'influence ele III pensee scientifique (Paris , 1929), p . 425.
[M13, ' ]
from the opening pages of Les Mys tikes de Pari.!: "Everyone has read those admi­
rable pages in which Fenimore Cooper, the American Walter Scott , has brought to
life the fierce ways of the savage1l , their colorful and poetic speech , the thousand
tricks they use when foUowing or 8eeing their enemies .... It is our intent to brin~
before the eyes of the reader some episodes in the lives of various other barbari­
ans , no less removed from the civilized world than the tribes so weU portrayed by
Cool)Cr. " Cited in Regis Me88ac, Le " Detective Novel" (Pa ris, 1929), p . 425. 37
[M13,2]
Noteworthy connection between 81lnerie and the detective novel at the beginning
of Les Mohicaru de Paris: "At the outset SalvatOr says to the poetJean Robert, 'You
want to write a novel? Take Lesage, Walter Scott, and Cooper... .' Then, with
characters like those of the 1h.ousand and One Nights, they cast a piece of paper to
the winds and follow it, convinced it will lead them to a subject for a noveL which
is what in fact happens." R~gis Messae, Le "De/uliue Nouel" el l'irifluma de la
paule scim/jfique (Paris, 1929), p. 429.
(M1 3,3)
0 11 the epigones of Sue aud Babac, " who came swarming to the serial novels. The
Apropos of "The Man of the Crowd": Bulwer<-Lyttom orchestrates his desaip­
tion of the big-city crowd in Eug~ Aram (pt. 4, ch. 5) with a reference to
Goethe's observation that every human being, from the humblest to the most
distinguished, carries around with him a secret which "''Quid make him hateful to
all others if it became known. In addition, then: is already in Bulwer a confronta­
tion between city and country that is weighted in favor of the city.
(M1 2a,31
Apropos of detective fiction : " In the American hero-fanta sy, the hulinn's cha rac­
ter plays a leading role .... Only the Intlian rites of initiation can compare with
the ruthlellsne88 and sa vager y of rigoro ull American trllining.... In everything on
wllich t.he American has r eally set his hea rt . we catch a glimpse of the Indian . His
extraordinary coneelltrlltioll 0 11 II particula r goal. his tenacity of purpose. his
unflinching elldu rance of the grea test hardships--in all this the legend ary virtues
of the Indian find fllU expression ." C. G. Jung, SecletlfJro bleme d er Gf!gf!fl lfJart
(ZUrich . l..eipzig. Stuttg;trt . 1932), p . 207 ("Seele und Erde" ):1ti
[M I21,4]
illfluence of Cooper makes itself felt here sometimetl directl y and sometimefl
through the mediation of Balzac or other im.it ato rs. Paul Fhal, beginlling in 1856
with Les Com eallx d 'or <The Golden Knive&), boldly trans poses the habits and
eveu the inhabitan ts of the IJrairie to a Parisian setting: we find there a wonder­
fu lly gifted dog named Mohlcall , an Americall-style duel between hunters in II
Pu ris suburh , alld a redskin called Towah who kills alld scalpll four of his enemies
Ul a hackney cab in the middle of Pa ris , and performs this feat with such dexterit y
that the d rh'cr never notices . Later, in Le, flabit , ,wirs <The muck Attire> ( 1863),
hc multiplies those compa risons of ....hich Balzac is so fond: 'Cool)Cr 's savages in
the middle of Paris! Is not the big city as mysterious as the forests of tile New
W... r ld?'" An adlliti...nal remark; "Compare Ul86 chapters 2 and 19, ill which lie
hrillgs two vaga bolilis 6n th e scene, Echalot a llIl Similor, ' llurolls of Ollr la kes of
IlIud , IrO<ltl-Ois of the glitter. '" Hi:gis Me88ac. Le '-D etec li ve Nover ell 'injlllellce (Ie
1<1 /Jel,sec sciemifiqlle. seriCHcntitled Uibliollli! lJlffl tie ill re vile de lil/erallire CO/ll ­
P<I,.ie. vol. 59, pp . 425-426.
[MI3.41
''That pocl.ry of terror which the s tratagems of enemy tribe& at war create in the
hea rt of the fOl'1: st" of America . and ofwhlch Cooper has nuule s uch gootl use. was
attached to the ~ mHlles t details of Parisian life. The p as~ershy. the sll o p~ , the
hackney ca rriagel. a person standing a t a window- to the men who had been
numbered off for the defense of Peyratle's life, everything presented the ominoul
interes t which in Cooper 's novels may be found in a tree trunk, a beaver's dam, a
rock , a burfalo skin , a motionless canoe, a branch drooping over the water."
Balzac. A combien I'a mour revient em x vieiUardJ. J8
(M I3a, l]
1II0nt , P romenolleJ litteraire$, 5ct::ond series ( Paris. 1906), pp. 117- 11 8: "Les
Maitres lie Balzac .")
(M14,2]
Prefonned in the figure: of the fianeUT is that of the detective. The fiineur re­
quired a socia1 legitimation of his habitus. It suited him very well to see his
indolence presented as a plausible front, behind which, in reality, hides the riv·
eted attention of an observer who will not let the WlSUSpecting malefactor out of
There wer e representations (lithographs?) by Raffel of Ecossaises and Tricycle1l.
(See M3a ,8.)
[MI4,4]
From Baudelaire's FIIJeeJ: " Man .. . is always ... in a Slate of ~a vagery. What are
the perils of jungle and prairie cOlllpa red to the daily s hocks and conffiets of
ch 'iJization? Whether a ma n embrace1I his dupe on the boulevard , or spea rs his
prey in unknown foresu, is he not ... the mOl t highly perfected beast of prey?"-41
~14 ,3 )
At the end of Baudelaire's essay on Marceline Desbordes-Valmore: emerges the
promroror, who StroUs through the garden landscape of her poeuy; the perspec­
"When Babae Iifu the roofl or penetrates the walls in order to clear a space for
observatioll, ... yo u lis ten at the doors . . , . In the interest of sparking yo ur imagi­
nation , that is, ... you lire playing the role of whllt our neighbors the English , in
thliir prudis hness, call the ' ,)()Iice deteclive' !" l:lippolyte Babou , La Verite sur I.e
Cal de M. Champfleury (Paris, 1857) , 1>.30.
[M14,5]
tives of the past and future: open before him. "But these skies are too vast to be
everywhere pure, and the temperature of the climate too wann.. , , The idle
passerby, who contemplates these areas veiled in mourning, feels tears of hysteria
come to his eyes." Charles Baudelaire, !'Art romantique (Paris), p. 343 ("Mar­
celine Desbordes-Valmore''))'' The promeneur is no longer capable of "meander­
ing capriciously." He takes refuge in the shadow of cities: he becomes a Ilineur,
[M13a.3]
It wouJd be profitable to discover certain definite features leading toward the
physiognomy of the city dweller. Example: the sidewalk, which is reserved for
the pedestrian, runs along the roadway. Thus, the city dweller in the course of his
most ordinary affairs, if he is on foot, has constantly before his eyes the image of
the competitor who overtakes him in a vehicle.-Certainly the sidewalks were
laid down in the interests of those who go by car or by horse. When?
(M14,6]
~.
~~
Jules Claretie relates of the aged Victor Hugo, at the time when he was living on the
Rue Pigalle . that he enjoyed riding through Paris on the upper level of omnibuset.
He loved looking down , from thls eminence, on the bus tle of the Itree18. See Ray­
mond EschoLier, Vector HURo nlCOllle par ceux qui l 'ont vu (Paris , 1931), p . 350-­
Jules Claretie. " Victor Hugo.··
[MI3a,4]
" Do you recall a tableau ...• created by the most powerful pen of our day, which
is entitled ' The Man of the Crowd '? From behind the wi ndow of a cafe. a convalee·
cent, contemplating the crowd with delight, miugles in tho ught with all the
thought&pul8ating around him. Havi ng j ust escaped from the shadow of death, he
joyfully breathes in all the germs and emanations of life; having bcen on the point
of forgetting everything, he now remembers and ardentl y wis hes to remember
everything. Finally. he rushes into the crowd in search of all unknown per aoll
whose face. glimpsed momenta ril y, fascinated him . Curiosity has becollle a fata l,
irrcsistihle passion ." Baudelaire, L'A rt r-omeHltiqlle (Pa ris), II . 6 1 (" Le Peinlre de
[M14,1]
III Vielllolierne").. wf
Alrctul y AlI dr~ Le 81"t:tOIl . UII/=OC. rlJomme et l'oelllJre <Paris. 1905), cOlllpares
Balzac's characters- " thc IISllrlirs, the atto rneys_ the bankel"l:l" -to Mohica ns.
whom Ihey resemble 11101'1: Ihun they tlo the Parisians. See also Itcmy de Cour­
;
" For the perfCC!t fl ane ur, ... it is an immense joy to let up house in the heart of the
multitude, amid the e bb and flow.... To be away from home, yet to feel oneself
every....here at home; to see the world , to be at the center of the world , yet to
remain hidden from the world--fluch are a few of the slightest pleasures of those
independent , passionate, impartial [! l] naturel whlch the tongue can but c1urn.si1y
define. The sl>CC!tator is a prince who everywhere rejoice1I in his incognito .... The
lo\'er of uni versal life enters into the crowd a8 though it were an immense reservoir
of electric energy. We might also liken him to a mirror 118 vaSI as the crowd itlelf; or
10 a kaleidoscope endowed with conscious ness, which , with each one of its move­
Jllellts, represents the multiplicity of life a nd the fli ckering grace of all the elemenu
of life.". Baudelaire, L 'Art rOlllllfl tiqllc ( Puris), pp . 64-65 ("Le Peintre de la vie
1I10tlcrlle").~2
[M I4a,I]
1'he Pads of 1908. "A PurisiUII used to crowlls. to truffle, und to choosing his
StreNs could still go for long wa lks at a steady puce lind even without taking IIIlIch
. tare. Gellerall y s peaking_ the a blllula nce of meuns of transportation had not yet
gi\·t:11 "lOre than th ree million l.Ieople the .. . idea thllt they could move IIbout jus t
as tlley liked and that dis tance was the last thillg that counted ." Jules Ro mains ,
Le5 110mme.f tie bonlle volD/ue. book I. Le 6 octobre ( Puris ( 1932». p . 204."'"
[MI4a,2!
In u 6 oelobre, in C hapter 17, "I.e Grand Voyage du petit ~on" (pp. 176- 184),
Romains describes how Louis Bastide makes his journey through M ontmartre,
fro m the comer of the Rue Ordener to the Rue Custine: "H e had a missio n to
accomplish. Somebody had commissio ned him to foUow a cmain course, to
carry something, o r perhaps to bear news of something" (p. 179)." In this game
of travel, Romains develops some perspectives- particularly the aJpine land­
scape of M ontmartre with the mountain inn (p. 180)-which resemble those in
IM14a,3]
which the flaneur's imagination can lose itself.
Maxim of the fl aneur: " In our standardized and uniform world , it is right here,
deep below the surface. that we must go. Estra ngement and 8UrprilM:. the most
thrilling exoticism, are aU dose by." Daniei lialevy, Pays pari"ien" (Paris ( 1932) ,
p. 153.
IMI4a,4]
InJuies Romains' Gn'me lk Qyinet/e (u .s Homme.s de bonne w lonti, book 2), one
finds something like the negative of the solitude which is generally companion to
the fiineur. It is, perhaps, that friendship is strong enough to break through such
solitude-this is what is convincing about Romains' thesis. "According to my
idea, it's aJways rather in that way that you make friends with anybody. You are
present together at a moment in the life of the world, perhaps in the presence of a
fleeting secret of the world- an apparition which nobody has ever seen before
and perhaps nobody will ever see again. It may even be something very little.
Take twO men going for a walk, for example, like us. Suddenly, thanks to a break
in the clouds, a ray of light comes and strikes the top of a wall; and the top of the
wall becomes, for the moment, something in some way quite extraordinary. One
of the two men touches the other on the sho ulder. The other raises his head and
sees it tOO, understands it too. Then the thing up there vanishes. But they will
know in aelernum that it once existed." Jules Romains, u .s Homme.s de IJorw
w lonti, book 2, Gn'me de Qyine/le <Paris, 1932>, pp. 175- 176.'$
[MI5,I]
Mallarme. " He had croiSed the Place aud the Pont de l' Europe almost every day
(he confided to George Moore), gripped by the temptation to throw himself fl"Om
the heights of the bridge onto the iron rails, under the train8, 80 as fmally to escape
tlus mediocrit y of which he was prisoner." Daniel Halevy, I-'uY" puriJieFl" (Pan s
<1932» . p. 105.
[MI 5,2]
.
..
Michelet ","rites: " I sprang up like u pale hlalle of grass I )etwt-"Cn tI Ie pavmg stones
[MIS,3]
(cited in Hulcvy, I'u ys I)Clrisiem , p. 14).
TIle tangle of the fortst as archetype of mass existence in Hugo: "An astonishing
chapter of us Mi.sirable.s contains the fo llowing lines: 'What had just taken place
in this street would not have surprised a forest. lne trees, the copse, the heath,
the branches roughly intertangled, the tall grass, have a darkly mysterious exist­
ence. 11lls wild Illultimde sees there sudden apparitions of the invisible; there,
what is below man d istinguishes through the dark what is above man."'~ Gabriel
Bouno ure: "Abimes de Victor Hugo," MeJureJ (July 15, 1936), p. 49. DGer­
stacker passage D
IMlS,4l
"Resear ch into thut serious diseuse. hut red of the home. Pathology of the disease.
Progressive gro","th of the disease." Cll s rlea Baudel uire, Oeuvres. ed. Le Dantec:,
"01. 2 (Paris , 1932) . p. 653 ("Mon Coeur mis Ii IIU")Y
{MI 5,5]
Letter accompan ying the two "Crepuseule" poems; to Fernand Desno yer s, who
published them in his Fontujllebleau (paris. 1855): " J' m sending you two pieces of
poetr y that more or leu sum up the r everies that auail me in the twilight hours. In
the depths of the woods, shut in by those vauits that rec:aU sacristies and cathe­
drals, I think of our amuzingcities. a nd tha t prodigious music whicb roUs over the
sumnlits seems to me a tra nslation of the lamentations of mankind:' Cited in
A. Seclu~, La Vie de" flellr" rill mal (Puris, 1928). p. 110.4& 0 Baudelaire 0
[MI Sa,l ]
The classic early description of the crowd in R->e: "By far the greater number of
those who went by had a satisfied, business-like demeanor, and seemed [0 be
thinking only of making their way through the press. Their brows were knit, and
their eyes roUed quickJy; when pushed against by fellow-wayfarers they evinced
no symptom of impatience, but adjusted their clothes and hurried on. Others,
still a numerous class, were restless in their movements, had Hushed faces, and
talked and gesticulated to themselves, as if feeling in solitude on account of the
very denseness of the company around. When impeded in their progress, these
people suddenly ceased muttering, but redoubled their gesticulations, and
awaited, with an absent and overdone smile upon the lips, the course of the
persons impeding than. If jostled, they bowed profusely to the josuers, and
appeared overwhelmed with confusion." Fbe, Nouvellu HutoinJ exlTatmiinain.s,
trans. Ch. B. (Paris <1886» , p. 89.u
{MI Sa,2]
" What a re the perils of jungle and prairie compared to the daily shocks and
cOIlRiets of civiJizutiou? Whetller a llIall embraces his dupe on the boulevard . or
Spea rs his prey in unknown forests. is lIe 1I0t eternal man- that is to suy, the most
highl y l»erfectt-'11 beast of prey?" Chul'les Bstulelaire. Oeuvre.s. ed. Le Dlintec. vol.
2 « lu rioS, 1932 >, p . 637 ("Fust.'f! s").54!
IMl Sa,3]
:me inmge of antiquity that so daz.z.led France is sometimes to be found in
mllnediatc proximity to the cxtremely modem image of America. Balzac 011 the
~omlllc rcial traveler : "See! What an athlete, what an arena, and what a weapon:
e, the world, and his tongue! A daring seaman, he embarks with a stock of mert
.....ords to go and 6sh for mo ney, five o r six hundred thousand francs. say. in the
frozen peean , the land of savages, of Iroquo is-in France !" H . de Balzac, L'//JUJtre
Gaudiuart, ed. Calmann·Uvy (Paris). p. 5.51
[MI SaAl
Description of the c rowd in 8llUlJelllire , to be CO rnl)llred with the d escription in
Poe:
The ""Iter, dismal bed. carrie. along its foul netlses.
Carrie', boiling. the secret. of the _ en:
It . lapI in corrosive waves against the housel .
Hushes on to jaundice and corrupt the river Seine .
SI,"hing as high as the knee. of pedestrian•.
On the slippery pavement. everyone pa8llell brutal and self-absorbe<:l .
Elbowing and I patlering UI with mud, or thrusting U8 aside
In their hurry to arrive tomewhere.
Everywhere mire and deluge and opacity of sky:
Dire tableau Buch aft dark Ezekiel might have dreamt.
The press brings into play an overabundance of informacion, which can be all the
more provocative the more it is exempt from any usc. (Only the ubiquity of the
reader would make possible a utilization; and so the illusion of such ubiquity is
also generated.) The actual relation of this infomlation to social existence is
determined by the dependence of the infonnation industry on financial interests
and its alignment with these interests.-As the infonnation industry comes into
its own, intellecrual labor fastens parasitica.l1y on ewry material labor, just as
capital more and more brings ewry material labor into a relation of dependency.
[M16a,l j
C h , B . , Oeuvres, vol. 1 <Pari. , 1931>, p. 211 ( Poemes divers, " Un J our d e
[MI6,1]
)lluie" )."'
On the d etec:tive novel:
The man who hasn ' t signed anything, who left no picture,
Who was not ther e, who 8aid nothin g:
!low ca n they catch him?
Erase the traces.
8recht. Versuche <4--7 (Berlin , 1930», p. 116 (Lesebuch for Sriidrebewohner.
no. I).$]
use value available to a ~nc:ral and public review by passing that time on the
bouJevard and thus, as it were, ~biting it.
(MI 6,4)
Simmel's apt remark concerning the uneasiness aroused in the urbanite by other
people, people whom, in the overwhdming majority of cases, he sees without
hearing,!.5 would indicate that, at least in their beginnings, the physiognomies
<correction: physiologies> " 'ere: motivated by, among other things, the wish to
dispel this uneasiness and render it hannless. Otherwise, the fantasti c pretensions
(M16a,2]
of these little volumes could not have sat well with their audience.
There is an effort to master the new experiences of the city within the framework
of the old traditional experiences of nature. Hence the schemata of the virgin
forest and the sea (Meryon and Ponson du Terrail).
[MI6a.3]
[MI6,2] \
The masses in Baudelaire. They stretch before: the a~eur as a veil : they are the
newest drug for the solitary.-Second, they efface all traces of the i.ndivi~~:
they are the newest asylum for the reprobate and the proscript.~Fmally, WIthin
the labyrinth of the city, the masses are the newest and most mscrutable laby­
rinth. "Through them, previously unknown chthonic traits are imprinted on the
image of the city.
[MI6,3)
The socia1 base of fifu1erie is journalism. As fianeur, the literary man ventures
into the marketplace to sell himself. Just so-but that by no means exhausts ~e
social side of a~erie. ", * know~ says Marx, "that the value of each conmlodity
is detennined by the quantity of labor materialized in its usc: value,. by the
working.time socially necessary for its production" (Marx, DaJ Ka~ltal, ed.
Korsch <Berlin, 1932>, p. 1 88) .~ The journalist, as Bineur, behaves as if he tOO
were aware of this. The number of work hours socially necessary for the produc­
tion of his particular working energy is, in fact , relatively high; insofar as he
makes it his business to let his hours ofleisure on the boulevard appear as part of
m
this work time, he multiplies the latter and thereby the value of his own labor..
his eyes, and often also in the eyes of his bosses, such value has sOln~thing
fantasuc about it. Naturally, this would not be the case if he were not 10 ~e
privileged position of making the work time necessary for the production of his
Trace and aura. The trace is appearance of a nearness, however far removed the
thing that left it behind may be. The aura is appearance of a distance, however
close the thing that ca11s it forth. In the trace, we gain possession of the thing; in
[M1 6a,4]
the aura, it takes possession of us.
Fait hfuilo myoid e&tabli8hed way,
J like to turn the flreet inlo a Btud y;
How often , then, as chan ce condu cts my dreaming 8tells,
I blullder, unawares. inl o a group of pavers!
AUgus le-Marseille Barthele my, Pari!: Revue satiriqlle
Police ( Paris, 1838), p. 8 .
aM. G. Deleuert, Prefet de
[MI 6a,5]
"M. Le Breton sa yli tha t il ilJ th e u liure rs, attorneys,
01111 banker s in B a lzac, ra the r
th an th e Parisia ns, who sometimes seem like ruthleu Mohican!!, a nd he believes
thai Ihe influe nce o f Fe n imore Coope r wali n ot p al'ticularly a d van t ageo u s fur Ihe
a uthor of Gobseck . This is pOlisihle, 1.111 tlifficuh to p rove ." Re my d e Cuurmont ,
~"omenades litteraires, 2nt! !tri es ( Pari!!, 1906), pp . 11 7- 118 (" ~8 Mai tres de
1 il h:a c").
[tI-.m. l}
".1'he J08lling
" . crowtledlleu a ud t he mutle y dl;;Ortle
.
. .
r uf IIIdropolilan
COJlllnU lllca ­
h un woult! . . . he IIllhe arahlc without ... psycilOlogicli l tlist a nce. Sillct,\ conlclllllO­
Regarding the intoxication of empathy felt by the 8iDeur, a great passage from
Flaubert may be adduced. It could well date from the period of the compositio n
of Madame Bovary: "Today, fo r instance, as man and woman, both lover and
mistreSs, I rode in a forest on an autumn afternoon under the yellow leaves, and
1 was also the horses, the leaves, the wind, the words my people uttered, even the
red sun that made mem almost close meir love-drowned eyes."5t Cited in H enri
Grappin, "Lc Mysticisme poetique (et l'imagination> de Gustave Flauben," Re­
vue de Pam (December 15, 1912), p. 856.
[MI7a,4]
rary urban cultu re ... forces us to be physically close to an enormous number of
people • . .. l>CQple wouM sink completely into despair if the ohjectifi cation of
social relatiuliships did not hring wilh it all inner boundary and reserve. The
pecuniary character of relationships. either openly or concealed in a thousand
forllls . placd [a] ... fnllctiOllal distance between people that is an inner protec·
tion . . . against the o\'ercrowded proxlntity." Georg Simmel . Philolophie de,
Geklel (Leipzig, 1900), p. 5 I4 . ~
[MI7,2]
Prologue to I.e Fltineur, newspaper for the masses, published at me office of the
town crier, 45 Rue de la Harpe (the first and, no doubt, only number, dated May
3, 1848): "To go out strolling, these days, while puffing on~'s toba~, ... while
dreaming of evening pleasures, seems to liS a century behind the tunes. ~ an::
not the son to refuse all knowledge of the customs of another age; but, Ul our
strolling, let us nOI forget our rights and our obligations as citizens. The rimes an::
necessitous; they demand all our attention, all day long. Let ~ be ~eurs, but
patriotic RSneurs." (J. Montaigu). An early ~pecim.en of ~t dislocanon of word
and meaning which belongs among the deYlces ofJournalism.
[MI7,3]
On the intoxication of empathy felt by the Raneor (and by Baudelain=: as well).
this passage from Flaubert : "I see myself at different moments of history, very
clearly.... I was boatman on the Nile, leno [procurer] in Rome at the time of the
Punic wars, then Greek rhetorician in SubuTTa, where I was devoured by bed­
bugs. I died , during the Crusades, from eating too many grapes on the beach in
Syria. I was pirate and monk, mountebank and coachman-perhaps Emperor of
the East, who knows?"" Grappin, "Le Mysticisme poetique <et I'imagination) de
Gustave Haubert," Revue de Paris (December 15, 1912). p. 624.
[MI7a,5]
Balzac anecdote: " He was with a friend olle day when he passed a beggar in ragtlon
the houlevard . His companion was astonished to see Rabac touch biJ own sleeve
with his halld; he hud just felt there the conspicuous rip that gaped at the elbow of
the mendicant ." Anatole CerOH!rr and Jules Christophe, Repertoire de 10
Comedie humaine de H. de Balzac (Paris, 1887), p . viii (Introduction by Paul
Bourget).
[MI7,4]
Apropos of Flaubert's remark that "observation is guided above all by ima~­
tio n " 17 the visionary faculty of Balzac: "It is important to note, first of all, that this
visi~nary power could never be ex.ercised directly. Balzac did no~ have tim~ to
live; . . . he did not have the leisure ... to study men, after th~ fas~on of ~oliere
and Saint-Simon, through daily, familiar contact. He cut ~ CXlSten~ 1Il twO,
writing by night, sleeping by day" (p. x). Balzac speaks of a re~speenve pene­
tration." "It wou1d seem that he took hold of the givens of expcnence ~d then
tossed them as it were, into a crucible of dreams." A. Ccrfberr and]. Christop~e,
,
.
. (Introd
on
Riper-loire de la Comid~ numaine de H. de Balzac (Paris, 1887), p. Xl .
uCO
by Paul Bourget).
[MI1a,I}
Empathy with the commodity is fundanlentally empathy with exchange value
itself. TIle fhlncur is the virtuoso of this empatJ:ty.. He takes the concept of m~ket~
ability itself for a stroll. JUSt as his final ambll 15 the department store. his las
.
. .IS th e san d W I·c1I-man .
[MI7a,2]
11lcarnatlon
III a hrau erie ill th e vicinit y of t.he Care Saint-I..uza re, {Ies Essc.intes (I:els hinilielf
to he a ll'cad y ill EuglalHl.
[M11a.3]
Hell is a eity much like I..ondon­
A populous and a 8moky eity:
There are allsorl!! of 1)COIIIe undone,
And there is little or no fun done;
Small justice shown. and still Ie.. pity.
"
There it. Cll8ue•• • nd • Canning.
A Cohbe tt . and. Clistierellgh:
Ali sort, of caitiff corpse. planning
All sorU of collening for trepanning
CO,"!JIlt8 Ien corrulJlthan they.
;
1II
There is ••••. who has lost
llis wit•. or oIoOld them. nOlle knows ..·hich:
.lle w.lks . OOUI II douhle gh08t,
Aud though &;I lhin asl-'raud almost­
E" er gro..·s more grim and rich.
IV
There is . Chllllccry Court: a king:
A manufacturing mob: IIlIf:t
or thie"" who by Ihemselves are k ilt
~ imilar I.hicves 10 rCl'reselll ;
All army : alul .. 1'I.bl;c deb!.
v
'riSSOI, in justify ing Ilis propo!alto tax lux ury hor8ell: "The intolerable noise made
.liI}' UII(I night h y twe nt}' tholl ~ u lIIl privute ea rriilge8 in the st ree ts of Pa ri", the
{'oJlliuuul s haki ng of the ho uses, the ineonw!IIie nce alld inso mnia that res ult for so
Inall Y iuhallililU!i; of the citY- illI this deserves l o me co mpellsation." Amedee de
Tis80t_ P(lri$ el [..om/re5 COmpflre5 (paris , 1830), PI•. L72- 173.
[M18a,2]
WI,ich lau iJi a IICheme ",r lll1 lle l" mon ey,
,\ nll mean&-heing int erp retw­
" lJeee. keel' )'o ll r W811 - P " C 1111 the hone)',
And we wi llplan l, while skin are ~ unn )',
tlowe .... which in winler llen'c ll18l" 8d ,"
The Rallt'lIr and t1w s ho l'fro nt8: " First o r a ll , there a re the Ra ue n", of the boule­
,.anl , who"e e nlire exis tence IIl1ro1t!s between the C hu rch of the Ma deleine a nd the
Tlu'iiitrc dll G ymna..e. Eaeh d a}' 8et!1I the m re turning to thill narrow space, whic h
they ne ve r l)a U beyoml. examining the tlis pl ays o r goods, surveying the s hoppers
.se;lted hc.fore tile doonJ of caf':! . . . . They would be able to teU you if Goupil or
Deforge ha" e put out a new print or a new painting, and if Barbedie nne has
n:po~ ilio n ed a vase or a n arra ngeme nt ; they kno w aU the photographers' studiol
hy hC;lrl ami coulll recile the !e<llIc nce or s igliS without omitting a s ingle one. "
Pierre Larollu e , Gmnd DicI;omUlire universel (Pa ris <1872» , vol. 8, p. 436.
VI
There i, a p-ea ' lalk of r evolution­
/\ ",1. grul chance of de!ll)Olism­
wrman 6011Iier&---e:a mp8---Co nfusion­
Tumu lt&-Iolleriu -rage---dclu llion­
Gin-euid de--and met hod ism;
VII
Ta){es too. on wi ne and bread,
Ami meal . and beer. ami tea , and cheese,
From which th ose ]llllnOl s pure a re fed .
Who go rge hdore they reellQ hed
The (t urold eu e Dee of allthesc.
[MI8a,3]
On tile provincial character or "Des Yetters Eckfenster." "Since that unfortunate
period whcn an insolent and overbearing enemy inundated our country,n the
Ikrlin populace has acquired smoother manners. "YOu see, dear cousin. how
nowadays, by contrast, the market offers a delightful pieture or prosperity and
peaceru1 manners." E. 1': A. Hoffmarul, AUJgtwiihl/e &hriflm, vol. 14 (Stuttgart,
1839), pp. 238, 240."
[M19,11
IX
Lawycn--juilgC8---()ld hohnobbcnl
Are there-bailiff&--eha m:eUon-­
Bisliol,e-grea l and lillie robber_
Rhymesle""'-I'am llhiclccr3---illock-jobhersMen of glory in the ,,' 111"11.­
The sandwich-man is the last incarnation of the 8aueur.
On the provincial character or "Des ~lters Ec.kfenstern: the cousin wants to
teach his visitor "the rudimentS of the an of seeing."ti:I
[M19,3]
X
Thinp whose tra de i,l, ow,r ladies
To Ican , a nd flirt . and stare. and lIim lH: r,
TiIl . 1I LIial i. lih'ine in woman
Grows c nu~.I . courteous. "mooth, inhuman,
Crudlied ' lwixl li amile lind a whimp.er.
S helley, " I)ete r Be ll the Third" (" Purt the Third: He ll" ) ....
[M19,2]
;
IMISI
llIuminating ror the conception or the erowd : in "Des Yetters Eckfenster" (My
Cousin's Comer Wmdow), the visitor still thinks that the cousin watches the
activity in the marketplace only because he enjoys the play or colors. And in the
long run, he lhinks, tltis will surely become tiring. Similarly, and at around the
same time, Gogol writes, in "lne Lost Letter; or tile ammal rair in Konolop:
"111ere were such crowds moving up and down the streetS that it made one giddy
to watch them." RUJJuche Gupell.J/er.Geschichten (Munich<l92h), p. 69 .•'
[M18a.lJ
On Jill}' 7, 1838, C. E. G uhra uer writes to Varnhagen aLout Heine: " He was
ha"ing a Lad time with hill eyes ill the s pring. O n o ur last meeting, I accompanied
hilll part ofth e wa}' a long the ho ule vard . T he s ple lltlor and vita lity ofthat unique
Sired movCtI me to bOlindlesll a llmira tion , wliiJe , against this, He ine now laid
,",cight y c mpha sis o n the Ilorrors ultCllding this cc nter of the world ." Compare a lso
Eng"ls 011 the cr owII <1\15u, I ). Heinrich Heine . GC5[Jra c he, ed . Hugo Bieber (Ber.
lin. 1926). p. 163 .
[MI9,4]
"T his cit y ma rket! by a vit a lit y, u circulation , an activity without cqual is a lso, by
;1 ~ i ll gllhlr cllntl'ast, the "Iuee whcnl o ne filll1 8 the lIIos1 itller s , loungcrs, anti rllb­
I",rnccks:' Pi~' r'I'C Lur'uussc, Gnllld Dic liOlln(Jire ulliver~el ( Paris (1872» , vol. 8 ,
I'· 'BfI (.Irlid.· elllillcd " Flline llr").
(M I9,S]
IJl'gd wl'iJin j; fro lll Puris to hi~ wife , Scplemhe r 3, 1827: "As I go through the
Slr'·ets. tire peo ple look j Uiit Il u: SAlIle U8 in Hc rlin . e ve r yone dressed the ~a me ,
about t he Bame faces. the SUIIlt: apl>cu rance, yet in a populou !I
man." Briefe von
und atl Hegel. ed . Kurlllc gcl (Leipzig, 1887), purt 2. p . 257 (Werke
. vol. 19 , part
2)....
[M I9,6]
Beginn ing of Rousse au's Second Promen ade: "Havin g therefo re
decided to d e­
scribe my habirua l state of mind in this, the strange st situatio n which any mona!
will ever know, I could think of no sinlpler o r surer way of carryin g out my
plan
tfu'\n to keep a faithful record of my solitary walks and the reveries
that occupy
them, when I give free rein to my though ts and let my ideas follow
their natural
umdres d .ondom
It is an inunense place, and so spread out
1113t it takes a day to cross it by omnibus.
And, far and wide, there is nothing .to 5tt
But houses, public buildings, and lugb monuments,
Set down haphazardly by the hand of time.
Long black chimneys, the steeples of industry,
Open their mouths and exhale fum~
From their hot bellies to the open arr;
Vast white domes and Gothic spires
Float in the vapor above the heaps of bricks.
An ever swelling, unapproachable river,
Rolling its muddy currents in sinuous onrush,
Like that frightful stream of the underwo~ld ,65
And arched Q\.'er by gigantic bridges on Plas
11ut mimic the old Colossus of lUlodes,
AllOVt'! thousands of ships to ply their way;
A great tide polluted and always unsettled
RecirculateS the riches of the Vt-orld.
Busy stockyards, open shops are ready
To rccei\'e a wuversc: of goods.
Above, the sky tomlCnted, cloud upon clo~d ,
11le sun, like a corpse, ....'ears a shroud on Its face,
Or, sometimes, in the poisonous aunosphere,
Looks out like a miner coal-blackened.
There, amid the somber nus! of things,
An obscure people li,'es and dies in silence ­
Millions ofbcing:'l in thrall to a fatal instinct,
Seeking gold by avenues devious and straight.
To be com pared with Baudel aire's revicw of Barbier, his portray al
of Me~n, ~
poe ms of "Tablea ux parisien s?' In Barbier's poeay, twO elemen ts-the d~P­
cion" of the great city and the SOC.ial unrest- s hou Id b e pre tty much dlSnn.
.
guished . Only traces of these elemen ts still remain with ~audeh
ure, m whO:
they have been joined to an altogeth er heterog eneous third ele~ent
. A~e.
Barbier, lambts tI ponntS (Paris, 1841), pp. 193-19 4. The poem
15 fro~MI9a,1]
quence Lmart o f 1837,
If one compar es Baudel aire's discuss ion of Meryon with Ba~bie~
's. "Lond :f.
one asks oneself whethe r the gloomy image of the "m?st dlsqUle
~lg o f ~e
tals"Oii-t he image, that is, of Paris-w as nOI very matena lly d~le.rn
~~d byt:riaI
tcxts of Barbier and of Poe. London was ccnainl y ahead of I am
m mdus 2J
[M19a,
develop ment.
course, unrestr icted and unconf ined. These hours of solirud e and
mc=d.itacion ~
the only ones in the day when J am comple tely myself and my own
master, with
nothing to distract or hinder me, the o nly ones when I can truly
say that I am
what n alure meant me to be." J ean:Jacques Rousse au, us R romts
du pr()m~r
solitaire; precedc=d by Di:c Jours Ii Enntnonuillt, by Jacque s de Lacretc
Ue (Paris,
1926), p. 15.67_ The passage present s the integral link betwee n contem
plation
and idleness. What is decisive is that Ro usseau alread y-in his
idlenes s-is
enjoying himself, but has not yet accomp lished the turning outwar
d.
[M20,1]
'; Lolldon Bridge. " " A little while ago I was walking across Lolldon
Bridge and I
pauiied to contem plate what is for me an emUen pleasur e-the
sight of a ricb,
thick , comple x waterw ay whose nacreous sheets and oily patcb~
, clouded with
white smoke- puffs, are loaded with a confusion of ships. . . . I
leaned u pon my
elhows. ... Delight of vision held me with a r avenou s thi n t, involve
d in the play of
a light of inexha ustib le richness. Hut endless ly pacing and fl owing
at my back I was
awa re of allothe r river, a r iver of the blind eternally in I)ursuit of
[its] immedi ate
materia l object. This seemed to me no crowd of individ ual beings,
each with his
own history, his private god . his treas u res alld his 8cars, his interior
monologue
and his fat e; ra ther I made of it- unconsciously, in the depths of
my body, in the
81ul.ded places of my eyes-a flw: of identical particles, equaUy
sucked in by the
same name.less void , their deaf headlon g current patterin g monoto
nously over the
bridge. Never have I so felt soUtude , mingled with pride and
anpillh ." Paul
Valery, Choses Wes (Paris, 1930,. pp. 122_12 4. 68
[M20,2]
;
Basic to Hinerie, among other things, is the idea that the fruits
of idleness are
more preciou s than the fruits o f labor. The Haneur, as is well
known, makes
"studies ." On this subject, the ninetce nth-ccn tury Larous se has the
following to
say: "His eyes open, his ear ready, searchi ng for someth ing entirely
dilTen=m from
what the crowd gathers to see. A word droppe d by chance will reveal
to him one
of those charact er traits that cannot be invente d and that must be
drawn directly
from life ; .thosc= physiog nomies so naively attentiv e will furnish the
painter with
the express ion he was dreanu ng of; a no~, insignificant to every
other ear, will
strike that of the musician and give him the cue for a hannon ic
combin ation;
even for the thinker, the philoso pher lost in his reverie, this cxterna
l agitatio n is
profitab le : it stirs up his idcas as the storn} stirs the waves of the
sea.... Most
l1len of genius were great Ilaneur s-but industr ious. product ive
8aneur s. .. .
Often it is when the artist and the poet seem least occupied with
their work that
they arc n~ost profoun dly absorbe d in it. In the first years of this
ccnrury, a man
Was SCen walking cach and every day- regardless of the weathe r,
be it sunshin e
Or snow-a round the rampar ts of the city of Vienna . This man was
Beetho ven,
who, in thc midst o rhis wanderings, would work out his magnificent symphonies
in his head berore putting them down on paper. For him, the world no longer
existed ; in vain would people grect him respectfully as he passed. H e saw noth·
ing; his mind was elsewhere." Pierre Larousse, Grand Dic/;onn«ire universel (Paris
d872» , vol. 8, p. 436 (article entitled, "Flineur").
[M20a,1]
Th~ most ~a~cteristic building projects of the nineteenth century-railroad
statlons, exhib' tl~n ~, depannlent stores (according to Giedion)-all have
matters of collecuve unportance as their object. The Bineur feels drawn to these
~ despiscd , everyday" structures, as Giedion calls them. In these constructions
the appearance of gre~t masses on the Stage of history was already foreseen:
lbcy fo nn the eccentne frame within which the last privateers so readily dis.
played themselves. (See KI a,S.)
[M21 a,2j
Beneath the roob of Paris; "'These Par isian sava nnahs consisting of roofs leveled
out to form a plain , bu t covering abysses teeming with population." Balzac, I..o
PelHl de chugrin , ed . n amma rioll . p. 95." The end of a long description of the
roof. la ndscapes of Paris.
[M20a,2)
Description of the crowd in Proust : " All these people who I)aced up and down the
seawall promenade. tacking as violently as if it had been the deck of a ship (for
they could not lift a leg without at the same time waving their a rms, turning their
heads and eyell . 8etlling their shoulder s, compensating by a bala ncing movement
on one side for the movement they had just made on the olher, and puffinA: out
their faces) , and who. Ilretending 1I0t to llee so 811 to let it be thought that they were
1I0t interested. hut covertly watching, for fear of rUlilliug against the people wbo
were walking beside or coming towa rdll thelll , did , in fa ct , butt into thelll , became
entangled with them, because each was mutually the object of the same secret
attention veiled beneath the same aplla rent disdain ; their love-and consequently
their fear--of the crowd being olle of the most IKlwerful motives in aU men ,
whether they seek to please other people or to astonish them, or to show them that
they despise them .... Mar cel Proust , A I'Ombre des jewlesfille! enflelH·s (Paris),
vol. 3 , p. 36.'u
[M21,lj
The oitique of the Nou"l.H!lks Histoires extraordinaires which Armand de Pont·
martin publishes in Le Spu t«tt:UrofSeptember 19, 1857, contains a sentence that,
although aimed at the overall character of the book, would nevertheless have its
rightful place in an analysis or the "man of the crowd": "It was certainly there in
a striking fo rnI, that implacable democratic and American severity, reckoning
human beings as no more than numbers, o nly to end by atuibuting to numbers
something of the life, animatio n, and spirit of the hum.an being." But doesn't the
sentence have a more inunediate reference to the His/aires extraardinaireJ, which
appeared earlier? (And where is "the man of the crowd"?) Baudelaire, Oeuvres
compldeJ, Translations, Nou velles His/aires txtrMrdinaires, ed. Crepet (Paris, 1933),
p.315.-The oitique is, at bottom, mean·spirited.
[M21 ,2j
TIle "spirit of noctanlbulism" finds a place in Proust (under a different name):
"The capricious spirit that sometimes leads a woman of high rank to say to
herself ;What fun it will be! ' and then to end her evclung in a deadly tiresome
manner, getting up enough energy to go and rouse someone, remain a while by
the bedside in her evening wrap, and finally, finding no thing 10 say and noticing
that it is very late, go homc to bed." M arcel Proust, U 7emftj rtlrouvi (Paris), vol.
2, p. 185.71
[M2Ia,l j
;
p
and their earliest green glow at dusk is the automatic signal for the start of spring
in the big city.
[Pl,2]
[The Streets of Paris1
The Quartier dc I'Europe alrt!a~ly ex.isted as a project , incoqmraling the names of
the European ca pitals, in 1820.
[PI ,3]
0 11 february 'J, 1805, hOllses were first numbered , by imperial de(:ree. Previous
In short, the streets of Paris
\\he sct to rhyme. Hear how.
-Beginning of Dil da nltJ tk Paro, by Guillot (Parj$. 1875), with
pn:racc::. n(Md. and glouary by Edgar l\'Iarcu.sc (lint word of the
second linc in the original: ~Wasi
we leave an imprint each time we enter into a history, l
They spoke of Paris as La ville qui rtmut'-the city ~t never stops moving. But
no less important than the life of this city's layout IS hert the unconquerablc:
power in the names of streets, squares, and the~ters , a power w~ch ,persists in the:
face of all topographic displacement. Those little theaters which, m the days of
Louis Philippe, still lined the Boulevard du Temple-how often has,one of them
been tom down, only to resurface. newly built, in some other quarher. (I'o speak
cr "cit)' districts" is odious to me.) How man~ street, names, e:ven today, prese~
the name of a landed proprietor who, centunes earlier, had his demesne o~ th~
ground. The name "Chateau d'Eau," referring to a long-vanished fo~ntatn, still
haunts various amnuiuu:menu today. Even the beuer-known ea~g estab­
lishments art, in their way, assured of thdr small municipal immortality-to say
nothing of the great literary inunortaliry attaching to the Rocher d~ Can~, th:
VefoU[ the Trois Freres ProvenI?ux. For hardly has a name made Its way Ul th
field of gastronomy, hardly has a Vatd or a Riche achieved its f~e,. than all of
Paris, including the suburbs, is teeming with Petits Vatds and Peats Riches. Such
is the movement of the streets, the movement of names, which often enough ron
(PI,I]
at cross·purposes to one another.
And then the timeless little squares that suddenly are there, .and ~o which :
name attaches. They have not been the object of carerul planrung, like the Pia d
Venddme or the Place des Glives, and do not enjoy the patro~ge of worl
history but owe their existence to houses that have slowly, sleepily, belatedly
assembled in response to the summons of the century. In such sq~ares, the ~
hold sway; even the smallest afford thick shade. Later, however, m the gashght,
their leaves have the appearance of dark-green frosted glass ncar the street lamps,
atle nll>ls to do this-in Jallllary I 726-had met with violent resis tance. OWllers of
houses declared themselves ready to Ilumber the side entrances, but not their
carriage entrances. The Revolution had already introduced the numbering of
housel! according to districts; in some dis trict8, there were 1,500-2,000 numbers.
(PI ,4]
After the a88assinatioll of Marat , Montmartre was renamed MODt-Ma ra!.
[PI ,5]
The function of the saints in the naming of Parisian streets suddenly became
clear during the Revolution. To be sure, the Rues Saint-Honore, Saint-Roch, and
Saint-Antoine were, for a while, known as H onore, Roch, and Antoine, but it
could nOt take hold; a hiatus had opened up that to the ear of the Frenchman was
unendurable.
[PI ,6]
"An enthusiast of the Revolution once proposed transfonning Paris into a map of
the ",,-orld: all streets and squares were to be rechristened and tho.. new names
drawn from noteworthy places and things across the world." Pursue this in
imagination and, from the surprising impression made by such an optical­
phonetic image of the city, you will recognize the great importance of street
names. Pinkerton, Mercier, and C. F. Cramer, ATlJidrtrn tier HauPlltadt fMS .fran­
ziisiJckn KaiJerreidlJ vom Jahre 1806 an, vol. 1 (Amsterdam, 1807), p. 100 (ch. 8,
"Neologie," by Pinkerton).
(Pl,7j
There is a peculiar voluptuousness in the naming of Streets.
(PI,S]
"The name La Roquette, given to two prisons, a Sireet , and an entire district.
comes from the plant of that na Ole ( Eruca sativa ), which u8ed to fl ourish in for­
merl y uninhabited areas." La Grande Roquette was, for a long time , the pri800 in
whic h ·tbose sentenced to death awa ited the outcome of their a plH!al. Maxime Du
Ca mp , Paris, vol. 3, p. 264.
[Pl,9}
TIle sensuality in street names-certainJy the only sort which citizens of the
town, if need be, can still perceive. For what do we know of streetcomers, curb­
stones, the architecture of the pavement-\\'e who have never fdt heat, filth, and
the edges of the stones beneath our naked sales, and have never scrutinized the
Uneven placement of the paving stones with an eye toward bedding down on
them.
(p 1, IOj
" Pont d ' Au8tcrlitz! Its famous name evokes for me something (Iuite other than the
ba ttle. Despite whatlH!Ople ha\'c maintained to me , and which I accept fur fonn 's
sake, it was the battle that took itll name from the bridge. }\Il explan ation fo r this
took sha pe in my m.ind on the basis of my reveries, my recollection of distracted
schoolda ys, and analogies in the savor and sound of certai n words. As H child , I
always ke pt this eXI>lanation under my hat ; it was part of my secret language. Alld
here it is: at the time of wan, crusades, a nd revolutiolld, 011 the eve uf bailie, the
warriors would proceed with their ensigns to this bridge. 0111 as the hills , and
there. in all aolemnit y, would drink a cup of aU8lerlitz. This aus terlitz, for midable
brew, wall quite simply the hydromel of our ancestors , the Ga uls, btu more hitter
and more filled wi th seltzer." Charles ViJdrac (CharieR Mcssager>, <Le,,) Pont.:s de
Paris <Paris, ca. 1930 ).
[pIa. I]
Excursus on the Place du M aroc. Not o nly city and interior but city and open air
can become entwined, and this intertWining can occur much more concretely.
There is the Place du Maroc in BeUeville: that desolate heap of stones with its
rows of tenements became for me, when I happened on it one Sunday afternoon,
not only a Moroccan desert but also, and at the same time, a mo nument of
colo nial imperialism; topographic vision was entwined with allegorical meaning
in this square, yet not for an instant did it lose its place in the heart of Belleville.
But to awaken such a view is something ordinarily reserved for intoxicants. And
in such cases, in fact, street names are like intoxicating substances that make our
perceptions more stratified and richer in spaces. One couJd call the energy by
which they tranSport us into such a state their uertu tuocaln'u, their evocative
power-but that is saying too little; for what is decisive here is not the association
but the interpenetration of images. This state of affairs may be adduced, as well,
in connection with certain pathological phenomena: the patient who wanders the
city at night for hours on end and forgets the way home is perhaps in the grip of
this power.
[Pla,2]
Street names in Jean Brunet , Le iJleuianume--orgcllliJalion genem le de Paris:
Sa corutitution getlerale, pa rt I ( Paris, 1858): Boulevard of Financiers, Boule­
vard of J ewelers, Boulevard of Merchants, Bouleva rd uf Manufacturers, Bonle­
vard of Metalworkers , Boulevard of Dye rs, Boulevard of Printers, Bouleva rd of
Students, Boulevard of Writers, Boulevard of Artists. Boulel'anl of Adnlinistra·
tor s.-Quartier Louis XIV (deta iled argument for this name, p. 32, involving "em·
bellis hment" of the Saint-Martin and Saint-Denis ga h~,",'ays): Confe(;tion Street,
Exportation Square, Ceramics Street, Bookbimling Stn:et.
[Pla,3]
" I read of a geographic scheme in which Paris would he the map , ami hackllcy
coaches the professors. Certainly, I would rat.her have lla ris be a geogra phic map
than a volume in the Roman calenclar; and the namcs of sailllS, wi th '""hiell the
ureets are b a ptized . cannot compare . in either cuphon y or utility, with the ua nle&
Oflh c luw n8 Ihut have heen p rolJOsed us sllbs tilute8 fur them . Thus, till: Fa ulltlurg
Saint- Denis, acco rding to this plan . would be calle(1 the Fuubourg ~ I c V(l/ellci-:
Cline" ; the Faubourg Saint- Marceau would become the Faubourg de Marseille; the
Place de Grevel would he known as the Place de Tou n or (Ie Bourges; and 10 on ."
Mercier, Le No u uccw Pa m <Paris, 1800>, vol. 5, 1'.75.
[pia,"]
Rue des Imlllcubies Industriel&-How old is tins street?
[pIa,S]
A surprising argument, a hundred years ago, in favor of an American system for
demarcating streets: "You poor professors, who teach moral philosophy and
belles lettres! Your names are posted in small black letters on a streetcomer, above
a milestone. The Ilame of this jeweler is as dazzling as a thousand fires-it shines
like the sun. It is for sale, but it is expensive." Mercier, Le }(oulH:au Paris, vol. 4,
[Pla,6]
pp. 74-75.
Apropos of the t1leory of street names: " Proper names, too, have an effect that is
eOllceptuaUy unburdened and purely acoustic.... To borrow an expr elllion fro m
Curtius (p . 65). proper names a re " bare fonnul as" which Prous t can fill up with
feelings because they have not yet been rationalized by language." Leo Spitzer,
StiLs wdien (Munich , 1928), vol. 2, p. 434.
[Pla,7)
"Street," to be understood, must be profiled against the older term "way." With
~pect to their mythological narures, the two words are entirely distinct. The
way brings with it the terrors of wandering, some reverberation of which must
have struck the leaders of nomadic tribes. In the incalculable rumings and resolu·
tions of the way, there is even today, for the solitary wanderer, a detectable trace
of the power of ancient directives over wandering hordes. But the person who
travels a street, it wouJd seem, has no need of any waywise guiding hand. It is not
in wandering that man takes to the street, but rather in submitting to the monoto­
nous, fascinating, constantly uruolling band of asphalt. The synthesis of these
twin terrors, however-monotonous wandering-is represented in the labyrinth.
~ Antiquity D
[P2, 11
Whoever wishes to know how much at home we are in entrails must allow
himself to be swept along in delirium through streets whose darkness greatly
resembles the lap of a whore. 0 Antiquity 0
[1'2,2]
How names in the city, though, first become potent when they issue within the
labyrinthine halls of the McO'O. Troglodytic kingdoms-thus they hover on the
horizon: Solferino, ltalie and Rome, Concorde and Nation. Difficult to believe
that up above they all run out into one another, that under the open sky it all
draws together. 0 Antiquity 0
[P2 ,3]
The true expressive character of street names can be recognized as soon as they
are set beside reformist proposals for their nommlization. For example, Pujoulx's
proposal for naming the streets of Paris after the cities and localities of France,
taking into consideration their geographic positions relative to one another, as
well as their population, and having regard for rivers and mo untains, whose
names wo uld go especially to long streets which cross several districts- all of this
"in o rder to provide an ensem ble such that a traveler could acquire geographic
knowled ge of France within Paris and, reciprocally, of Paris within France."] . B.
Pujoulx, Paris a lafin du dix-huitieme siede (paris, 1801), p. 8 1. Fhinerie 0
[P2,4)
o
" Seventeen of the gates correspond to imperial routes .... In these name. one
would seek in vain for a gener al system . What are Antihes. Toulouse. and Bi le
doing there beside La VLllelte a nd Saint-Ouen ? . . . If one had 'II'a nted to establish
rome distinctiolls. olle could have pven to each gate the name of the .'rench city
most distant in that di rection ." E . de Labedolliere, HUloire d u no uvea u (Paris),
~L
[P2 ~
" Some beneficial meas ures b y the municipal magistracy date from tbe time of the
Empire. On November 3 , 1800, there was, b y decree, a gener al revision of street
namf'S. Most of the grotesque vocables invented by the Revolution disappeared.
The na mes of politicians were almost aU r eplaced by the names of milita ry men!'
Lucien Dubech a nd Pierre d ' Espczel, HUloire de Pa ris (Paris. 1926), p . 336.
[P2,6)
" In 1802 . in va riOIlS neighborhoool -Rue du Mont-Blanc, Chaussee d ' Antin­
sidewalks were buill , with an elevation of three or four inches. There W81 then an
effort to get rid of the gutter s in the center of the streets." Lucien Dubech and
Pierre d ' Espezel. lIutoire de Paru (Paris, 1926), p . 336.
(P2 ,7]
" In 1805, the new system of sequential numbering of houses , begun on the initla­
tive of Frochot and still in e£fect today: even numbers separ ated from odd, the
even numbers on the r ight and the odd on the left . according as one movet away
from the Seine or follows its course. The numbers were white and were placed OD a
red background in streets paraUelto the ri ver, on a black background in streell
perpend icuJar to it ." Lucien Dubeeh and Pierre d 'EsI)C!.el, Ilu loire de Po";"
(P2,8)
(Paris. 1926). I). 337.
Around 1830 : " The Cha ussee d 'Antin is the neighborhood of the nouveaux richee
of the fin ancial world . All these districts in the western pa rt of town have been
d i ~c redited : the city planner s of the period believed that l'Bris was going to develop
in the direction of the saltpeter works. an opiuion that ought to instill pr udence in
tod ay's d evelopers .. . . A lot on the Chaussee d 'Antili had trouhle fllldiu g a buyer
at 20.000 to 25.000 fra ncs. " Dubech and d ' Espezei . Ili.Hoire de Pa ri.s (Paris,
(l'2a,l )
1926), p . 3M.
July Monarchy: " While most of the street names reca lling political events were
dOlle away Wilh , new olles appeared commemorating a da te: the Hue dll 29 Juil­
[P2a.2)
leI. " Dubeeh alld d ' EslJezel. lIu toire de Paru , p . 389.
" I know uothing more ridicuJoul and more inconsistent than the names of I treets,
S(luarel, blind alleys, and cull -de-sac ill Paris. Let UI choose at random some of
these n ames in olle or the nlOre bea utifuln eighborhoodl . and we cannot but note
this incoherence and ca pr ice. I arri ve by the Rue Cr oix-d e.-Petits-Champs; I
cross the Place des Victoires; I tu r n into tbe Rue Vuide-Gousset , whicb takes me to
the Passage d es Petitl-p erel . fro m which it is onl y a Ih ort dista nce to the Palais­
Egalite. Wha t a salmagundi! The first name calls to mind a cult object and a rustic
land scape; tbe second o£fer s milit ary triumpbs; the third . an ambush ; the fourth,
the memor y of a nickname given to a monastic order ; and the las t, a word which
ign orance. intrigue. and a mbition bave taken turns abusing." J . B. Pujoulx, Paris
ii lafin du XVIII' siecle (Paris, 180 1), pp . 73-74.
[P2a,3]
"Two steps from the P lace de la Bastille in the Faubourg Saint-Antoine, people still
say, ' I am going to Paris' .... This subur b bas its own mores and customs, even its
own language. The municipa lity has numbered the houses here, as in all other
parts of Pa ris; but j( you ask one of the inhabitants of this suburb for his addrels,
he lrill always give yo u the n ame his house bears and not the cold , official num­
ber. ... This house is known by the name 'To the King of Siam,' that by ' Star of
Gold' ; this house is called ' Court ofthe Two Sisters,' and that one is called 'Name
of J esus '; other s carry the name ' Basket of Flower s,' or ' Saint Esprit,' or ' Bel
Air.' or ' Hunting Box,' or ' The Good Seed . , .. Sigmund Englander, Ge.sch ichte der
f raruQsu chen Arooiter auociationen (Ha mburg, 1864), vol. 3, p. 126.
(P2a,4]
Excerpt from a proposal for naming streets which p res umably steDlll from the
Revolution : " Someone . . . proposed giving str eets and alleys the namet of virtUet
and generous sentiments , without reflecting that this moral n omenclature was too
limited for the great number of streets to be found in Pari, .... One senses that in
this proj ect there was a certain logic in the arrangement of namet; for example. the
Rue de la l w tice, or that of "lIumanite, had necessaril y to lead to the Rue du
Bonheur• .. . while the Rue de la Probite ... had to Crolili all of Paris in leading to
the most beautiful neighbo rhoods. " J . B. Pujoulx., Pari! ii hlfin du XVIII- siecle
(P2a,5]
(Paris . 1801), pp. 83-84.
COncerning the magic of street names. Delva u on the Place Maubert : " It is not a
square: it is a la rge blot , so full of fi lth and mire that even the lips sully themselves
ill prono.uncing this n ame frOIll the thirteenth century- not because it is old but
because it exhales an odor of iniquit y .. which shocks the sense of smell ."
A. Dclva u , Les Dessous ele P(lris (Pa ris. 1866), p . 73.
[P2a,6]
··It is not superfluous to observe that a foreigner, who. on a rriving in a city. sta rU
out el'er ywhere judging by a pl>ear ances. could well suppose, in coming IIpon these
Ullsystetnatic and insign ificant street namel. that the r easoning of tbose who live
here was no less loosely connected ; and . certainl y, if several streets presented him
with base or obscene n ames, he would have grounds for believing in the immor ality
of the inhabitallu."
p.77.
J . B . Pujoub: , Po ri"
a to fin
d" XVIII ' $iecie (Pa ris, 1801),
[1'3,1]
RatiOllalilO m took particula r offense at namelO like Hue des MauvailO-GarJ<oIlS. Rue
Tire-Boudin , Rue MauvailOes-Parok"ll, Rue Femme-san s-'I't:te. nue du Chat qui
Peche, Rue Courtaud-Villain .: It ilO such places I.hal are fre(l ul"nted , UYIO Pujoulx ,
(P3,2]
by those wllo won't listen to his prolJ05als.
" Wh at a plea sure for tile resident of the Soutll of France to rediscover, in tile
names of the various districts of Paris, those of tile place wller e he was borll , of the
town where his wife came into the world , of the village wllere he spent his early
yea rs." J . B . P ujoulx , Pari" Ii fajin du XVlll' si&cle (Paris, IBOI ), p . 82 .
(P3,3]
"The hawkers choo5e their newspaper s according to wllicll neighborhoods they
want to work in , and even within these areas there are nuances that must be
distinguished . ODe street reads Le Peupfe, while anotller will have only La
R ejorme, but the street perpendicular to these, which cOllnccts them , takes L 'A ,­
.embtee nationaie, or perhaps L 'Vnion . A good hawker ought to be able to teU
you , with an eye to the promises millIe b y aU the aspiring legislators and written
upon our walls, what l)ercentage of the vote in a particular arrolldi.s.ement each o(
these political mendicants can expeet to have." A. Privat d 'Anglemont , Paris in­
connu (Paris, 1861 ), p . 154. 0 F1i neur 0
(P3,4)
What was othernise reserved for only a very few words, a privileged class of
words, the city has made possible for all words, or at least a great many: to be
elevated to the noble stants of name. 1bis revolution in language was carried out
by what is most general: the street.- Through its street names, the city is a
linguistic cosmos.
[P3,S]
Apropos of Victor Hugo's "command of image. The few insights we ha ve into his
methods of composition confirnl that the facult y of interior evocation was much
st ronger in him than in other people. This iii why lie was ab le-from memory, and
without taking any notes-to describe tile qlUJrtier of Pa ris th ro ugh which J ean
Valjean escapes in U.s Muerabie,; a nd this description is strictl y accurate, street
by stree t, houllC by house." Paul Bourget . obituary notice for Victor Hugo in the
J ournal des debat,,: "Victor Hugo deva nt I'opinion" (Pa ris, 1885), p. 91.
[P3,6]
On lUI etching: " Rue TirecllHl'e-in 1863 as it was ill 1200. " Cabinet dell
Elllampcll.
[P3, 7]
III all engra ving frolll 1830, olle call St.'C a man seated on a Iree trullk in the
80 ul eya r~J Saint-Dcnis.
[P3,8]
In 1865,011 the 8 0uleva rd des Cal'ucinc8, at the corncr of the nul" d e Seze and the
[P3a, l)
Rue Caumartin . the fi rst refllse. or Slreel. island , was illl;talled .
" T he way Ille Clltups go to IIlake faces al the cnt.ra llee 10 I.hc morgue; the way the
sho"" offs come tllt're to recile 111t:ir grolcS(ILlc j okes ... ill I> u('h a place; t he way the
j·rowd . . ga lhers urOllnd II) laugh their fill al tilt' U ft~ ' 11 indecent antic;; uf a
j uggler. after ga ping al fi\'e cadu\'ers laid out side hy side .... Now, that'8 what 1
cull rC\'olting ... !'. ViClor Fuurnel. Ce flll'O tl 110i, da"" tes riles fi e Paris ( Pari ~,
1858). 1" 355 ("'La Morguc").
{P3a,2]
C hosts of the eity: '; Romnntieism on tlll~ declinc ... {lelight8 in legemlil. While
Ceol'gc Sand , dressed as I.L mall , supposedly rides 0 11 horsebac k ncross Pnris in the
('ompa ll y of Lallll.Ll"tilu:, drencil as a womllll , DUlllas has his lIuvels written i.1I
cellars allli ~lrink 8 clullnpagne upstairs wit.h va riOIiS actrenes. Or, beltel' ye t , I)u­
mas does not exist; he is only a mythical heing, a trade name inve nted by a syndi­
cate of editon. ,. J . Lucas- Dub re ton, UI Vie tl'AlexlIIlftre Dllma" Pere (Paris
(1928») .1). 141.
(P3a,3]
" Here, then , ... is the ... DiClionnaire de ftl la"s ue verl e ( Dictiollary of Slang>,
of ""hich 1 would like l)Copl!;! to sa y . . . what was saitl of Sebas tien Mcrc::ier's
Tableau de Pari. -namely, that it was conccl\'ed in tile street and written on a
milestone." Alfred Delvu u , Dicliomwire de f(f lmls ue l1erte (Pa ris, 1866), p . iii .
[P3a,4]
A nice description of elegant neighborhoods: " the nobilit y, silently bunkered in
thellC cloistral streets as in an immen se and splendid monastery of l)eace a nd
refuge.'" Paul-Ernest Rallier. P(fri" n 'exule P(u (paris , 1857), p . 17.
{P3a,5]
Around 1860, the Paris bridges were still in.'iI1fficient for the traffic between the
two ballks; there was fretjLlellt recourse to ferries. The fare for this 5erviee was two
SOilS; proletarians, therefore, could only r arel y mnke use of it. (From P.-E. R a t~
tier, Ptlris 11 'existe pa. (Paris . 1857), pp. 49-50.
[P3a,6]
" In Hugo, the Vend,jme Coluntn , the Arc ~I e Triomphe, and the In\'alides go haud
in hand , if I may put it thi, way. There is a hislorical alllllJOlitical, a real and
literary connection among these three monuments. To-dllY. ... tile IJOsitioll of thClje
three terms, their relation , has changetJ. The Column has bt.'1! n effectivel y sup­
planted, in Sl)ite of VuiliaUllle. Ant! it is the Pa llllll..·i)ll that has come, liS it were, to
replace it --eslH.~ inll y since H ugo's success ill " r ingi ng it to yiel~J. so to 51)eak, to
the greatmell . To~l ay. the tril ugy of monUlllcnt s is the Arc tie Triomphe, the Pa ll­
theon , anti till' Chul'cli of the hl\' ulides." Charles Peg-u y, Del/ ores CQIIIIJ{ete"
1873- 1914: Oeu vres de prO$e (Puris, 19 16), p . 4 19 ("Victol...Murie, Comt e Hugo" ).
(St.'(' C6; C6a . l . scction Ill .)
[P3a,7]
" TIlt- Irlle Pa ris is hy II lI turl' II (lark , mir),. ma lu<lorolls cit y. confilH'd within its
lIarrow Il! neil . ... 8wurllling ...ilh hlin<1 al1c y~, ~' lIl s-tl e- sac. a nd mysterious pas­
~ ages . with la byrinths that Icat! yo u to thc dC\'il ; n cit )' whcl'c II,c Iw intcli roofs of
ti'e somher II O u se~ joil! together up there IIcar the duml" a nd tlms hl'gl'udge yo u
the bit of blue which t.he northern sky would give in alms to the veat capital. ...
T he tnle Pa ris is full of freak shows, reposi tories at three centimes a night for
unheard-of heings alltl hUIIIl!1I "llIlIItn mago rias .... There, in a cloud of ammo_
nillC valwr, ... and on beds that have 110t been made since the Creation , reposinl!
si{le by side are bundreds. thousands, of ch arlata ns, of mlltch sellers, of accordion
players, of hunchbllcks, of till: blind and the IlIme; of dwarfs, legless cripples, and
Inen whose noses were bitten off in qu arrels, of rubber-j ointed men , downs mak_
ing a comeback , and sword swallowers ; of jugglers who balance a greasy pole on
the tips of their teeth ... ; children with four lega, Basque giants and ot.her kinds,
Tom Thumb in his twentieth reincarnation , pla nt-IH!O ple whose hand or arm is the
soil of a living tree, which sprouts each year illl crown of bra nches a nd leaves ;
walking skeletons, tra nspa rent huma ns made of light ... and whose faint voice
can make itself hea rd to an attentive ear ... ; orangutans with human intelligence;
monsters who speak French ." Paul-Ernest de Rattier, Paria ", 'eriue pal (Paris,
1857), pp. 12,17- 19. To be compared with this are Hugo's drawings, and also
IhUSSlllllnn 's vision of Paris.
[P4,l )
.'ate of the re publican opposition under Cuitot. " L 'Emancipalion , of Toulouse,
cites the words of a conservative to whom someone had expressed pity for the
plight of those political prisoners languishing behind bars: ' I will feel sorry for
them when mushrooms begin vowing on their backs. , .. J ean Skerlitch , L 'Opinion
pub/ique en Fnmce d'apres la poesie politiqlte et sociale de 1830 Ii 1848
<Lausanne, 1901 >, pp. 162- 163.
[P4,2)
" With this magic title of Paris, a play or review or book is always ass ured of
success." Theophile Gautier, first sentence of the Introduction to Paris et let
Parisien.! (m X IX" siecle (Pa ris, 1856) , p . i.
[P4,3)
"The universe docs nothing but gather the cigar bulls of Paris." Theophile Gau­
tier, introduction, Paris et les Poriaiens au X IX' siecle (Paris, 1856), p. iii . [P4,4)
"A long tillle ago, someone bad the idea of peopling the Ch amps-Elysees with
statues. The moment for this has still not arrived ." Th. Gautier, "Etudes philoso­
phiques," Pa ris el les Parisiens au XIX ' <si~l e,) p . 27.
[P4,5)
""Thirty yea rs ago ... it was still ... virtuaUy the sewer it had been in ancient
limes. A very large number of streets, whose surface is now c rown~ , were then
hollow causeways. You very often saw, at the low point where the gullers of a street
or a squa re termin ated , large rec tangula r gra tings with great han, the iron of
which sllOne, polished by the feet of the multitude, dangerous a nd slippery for
wagons, and making horses stumble. .. In 1832 , in many streets, ... the old
Gothic cloaca still cynically showell its j aws. They were enormous, sluggish gaps of
Slone. SOllu:timCII surroundl,...1 hy stone blocks, displaying monumental effr ont­
cry." Vietor Hugo, Oeuvres complete,. novels, vol. 9 (Paril!. 188 1), p . 181 (Lu
[p4a.I )
Miserables).l
On the wall of the .'a rlllcrs-General, untler Louis XVI: " The mur (wall ) by whicll
[p4a,2)
Paris is immured makes Paris mu rmur....
t\.s II legentl of the morgu e, l'tlaillard cites the following rema rks from E. Texier, Le
1'ableall de Paru (1852): " In this building IivCII a clerk who ... has a fam ily. Who
knows wht:ther the clerk 's daughter d ocs not h ave a piano in her room and , on
Sunda y evenings, does 1I0t dance with her fri ends to tile strains of the ritorneUos of
Pilodo or Mmard .'" According to MaiUartl , however, the cler k did 1I0t live in the
nlOrgue in 1852. Cited ill Firmi.n Maillard , Recherclles histori(IIJe! et critiques !ur
III Mors ue (Paris, 1860), pp . 26-27. The account gocs back , liS Maillard himself
explains, to II r eport of 1830 by Leon Gozlan , whicb for iu I)art was somewbat
fcuilletonistic.
[p4a,3)
"T he Place Maubert, accu rsed S(luare which hides the name of Albertus Magnus."
Puris che=!oi <Paris, 185-1-> , p . 9 (Louis Lurine, "A tra vers les rues") .
[p4a,4)
In Mercier, No uveau Pa ris ( 1800), vol. 6, p . 56, it is recounted that " the mys teri­
hornblowers ... in fact made a prell y sinister noise. It was not to announce
the sale of water that the y made this noise; their lugubriou8 bla re, dignified bn­
fare of terror, was most often a threat of arso n : 'They were in the taverns , and
they would communicate from one ueighborhood to the next ,' says Mercier. 'All
their ha rmonizal sounds were centrally coordinated , a nd when tbey played with
redo ubl ~ force, one expected something to hap pen. You would listen for a long
while, wlderstanding nothing; but in aU this uproar there was a language of sedi­
tion. T hese plots were 11 0 leu deep for being hatched so blatantly. It has been
remarked that , at the time of the fires , the signal was more Ilrompt, more ral,id,
n;ore shrill . When the blaze b roke out at Les Celcstins, ... my brain had been
tlulled the day before hy the noise of the horns. On ano ther occasion , the ears were
assailed by the cracking of whi ps; 0 11 some days, it was a h angin g 0 11 boxes. Olle
trembles at these keen daily alarms.'" Edollard Fournier, Enigmes des rues d e
(p4a,5)
Puris (Pa ris, 1860), pp . i2-73 ("Sur q uelques bruits de Pari ....).
OilS
C. Bougie, Chez Ie! prophiues !ociuiistes (Paris, 1918), cites, in the essay " l..' AIIi­
fllice intellectuelle franco-allemande" (p . 123), Borne '8 phrase abo ut the stree ts of
Illl ri S: thosc glorious street" " whose pavement one ought to tread with bar e feet
oll ly."
[PS. II
T ile AVenue Rnehel lead s to the celllcter y of !\I ontm urtr('. About this, Daniel
lI ali:vy writes (Poys iJu ri$ien. [Paris <1932> ] , p . 276); " Rac hel , the tragediellue,
is here the herald ami patroness."
(P5,2)
"The importa nce acco rded the traffic of pilgrim!!-many people in those daya WeDt
to vellcrate relics-is attcsted hy the fa ct that the old Roman road, with its two
sectiolls, was named after the pr incipa l destinatio ns of such pilgrimage: in the
north , Saint-Marlin , after Ihe Cathedral of Tours; and in the south , Saint_
J acques, afte r the Spanish Jago di Compostella." Frillll Stahl , Paris (Berlin
( 1929» , p. 67.
[PS,31
The oft-formulated observation that the neighborhoods of Paris each have a life
of their own is given support by Stahl (Paro, p. 28) in a reference to certain
Parisian monuments. (He speaks of the Art de Triomphe, and one could also
mention Notre Dame or Notre Dame de Lorene.) Fonning a background to
important streets, these buildings give their districts a center of gravity and, at the
same time, represent the city as such within them. Stahl says "that each monu­
mental edifice .. . appears with an escon, like a prince with his train of followers,
and by this retinue it is separated from the respectfully withdrawing masses. It
becomes the ruling nucleus of a neighborhood that appears to have gathered
[ps,4-]
around it" (p. 25).
[Panorama]
Does anyone still want to go with me into a panorama?
- Max Brod, tllm die &M../Jeit hiiJJlickr Bilder
(Leipzig, 1913), p. 59
There were panoramas,1 dioramas, eosmoramas, diap hanoramu., na valoramas,
pleorumas (pleQ, " I sail," " I go by water"'), fanto 8cOPC( s>, fanta sma-parastases,
phantasmagorical and fa ntasmaparastatie experience$, picturesque journeys in a
room , geor amas; optical picturesques, cineor amas, "hanora mas, stereoramas, cy­
cloramas, panorama dramatillrre.
" In our time so rich in pano-, cosmo-, neo-, myrio-, kigo- and dio-ramas. " M. G.
Saphir, in the Berliner COllrier, Ma l·ch 4 , 1829; cited in Erich Stenger, Dagllerre$
Diorama in Berlin (Berlin , 1925), i'. 73.
[QJ. ,I]
T he postrevolutionary Ver sailles us waxworks; "'The leftover royal statues wcre
rcnlOdeled. T hat of Louis XlV in the great SaUe de l' Orallgerie wears a liberty cap
in place of the chiseled-away peruke, carries a pike instead of the official b aton ;
IIlld , so th at no one mistakes the identity of the newly created god of war. there is
~·ritt ell at the foot of the stat ue: 'French Mars, protector of the liberty of the
world .' A similar prank was playell with Coustou's colossal bas-relief, repre­
k illing Louis XIV 011 horseback , in the large gallery of the chiteau . The genius of
faille, who descends f rom the clouds, hold s a libert y cap over the bare head of the
king. instead of the laurel wreath of form er times ." O Colportage 0 F. J . L. Meyer ,
rr{ll5mcm e au.s I'{lris im IV. l ahr der J r{llizosischen Republik (Hambu rg, 1797),
\'01. 2 , p . 3 15.
[QJ. ,2]
On the cxhiliitioll of a gro up of thieves reproduced in wax , whic h (aro und 1785)
Was put together by Curliug or some othcr entreprenellr for t.he fair in Sailll­
Lalll·l·nt : "Some wel·c chai ne!1 and clad in rags, while others were al most naked
1I IlII Iyilig on s traw. II was a fairly gra phic remlerillg. The onl y portrai ts that were
likenesses were those of the two 0 1· 1.i1n:.-e Icullers; liut since the gallg was la rge, the
O ...·lIcr hUll 11(,,"(:11 obligcd to find them some COlllpally. I took it for granted tlll.!t he
hall fll si1ioned these others more or less accordillg to whim , a nd with this t.hought
i1] llIilul I Wil l> ra tllCr cas ually strolling past the s warthy fa ces--oft en obscured liy