When Books Come Alive

While in Paris I'm staying in a lovely apartment that is stocked with not only all the comforts of home but a generous bookshelf filled with books on Paris and some novels. I picked up The Devil in the White City by Erik Larson, a book based on the true accounts of the World Exhibition held in Chicago in 1893 interspersed with a grisly tale of a serial killer. The plot links Chicago and Paris because of the desire for the Chicago organizers to "out-Eiffel Eiffel" with a structure to rival the Eiffel Tower, created for the previous World Exhibition held right here in Paris. [This turned out to be an ingenious device created by a young man named Ferris who invented a large wheel capable of carrying people around the wheel to dizzying heights.]

And so it was with new appreciation for La Tour Eiffel that we visited that structure once despised by the Parisians who nicknamed it "The Giant Asparagus" but which is now a universal symbol for this beautiful city. Comprised of 12,000 pieces of metal and 2,500,000 rivets, the Eiffel Tower is a draw for people all over the world. We heard half a dozen languages spoken, including some very incendiary expletives from a woman who tried to bargain with a souvenir vendor, to no avail.

A boat trip further expanded our knowledge of the glorious history of the city and we glided under bridges built in the early 1600s, admiring the sights on both sides of the Seine. After the cruise we walked along the river and, having just read The Day Diana Died by Christopher Andersen, I had to lead my son Will and his girlfriend Yesenia to the spot on the Pont l'Alma where people go to honor the memory of Princess Diana. The statue, a replica of the torch held by the Statue of Liberty, has become an informal shrine to the late Princess who was killed in an automobile accident in 1997 in the underpass below. You'll find notes and flowers there in spite of no official sign.

Later we wandered off to an area by le Jardin des Tuileries, across from which is a very high-end shopping district. The fashions in the window are a form of art themselves and I was reminded that Paris is the place for haute couture. Ooh la lah! Valentino, Versace, Dior, Chanel... the saints of fashion all lined up in a row.