***Palais-Royal and its Garden***
A marvelous sight of today’s excursion

During our seminar today, we’ve done something that we haven’t done just yet. While we were down to just 8 students, we spent over an hour discussing A Tale of Two Cities and analyzing its characters and Dickens’ choices. We discussed Lucie and her role as this symbolic literary figure– “the golden thread” that holds everybody together. We probed the question as to whether or not we wanted to or should have seen more of Lucie’s personal thoughts throughout the novel.

**Sydney Carton,** image courtesy of MEISTERDRUCKE

While we didn’t come to a cohesive conclusion, I personally felt that it was necessary to leave Lucie the way she was– distantly hung up on a pedestal. Because as “the golden thread,” as the main reason why all the rest of the characters are able to become close to one another, Lucie holds a lot of responsibility. And if Dickens had developed Lucie into a more personable character, we would have lost that sense of absolute purity and innocence. If we were to see more of Lucie’s humane thoughts and relate to her more, we may not be able to precisely understand why Lucie could be that middle-ground for the story. It might be harder, as a reader, to see how one person could hold so much power in people around them to do good. Even so, I can see why some people in the discussion wanted a more fleshed-out character.

The best thing about this discussion was that I felt much more connected to the places we walked during our afternoon exploration. While I was able to get a sense of connection before, this day felt particularly more relatable not only because it specifically required us to walk Sydney Carton’s path before [spoiler alert] his sacrifice, but because we talked so much about how the characters made us feel and why we believe some of the characters were portrayed as they were.

While the walk was significantly different to what it was when Dickens wrote the novel, you could still get a grasp on how long and gruesome the journey the tumbrils must have taken from La Force. Walking through Sydney Carton’s ride to his death, I began to think about the sacrifice some people are willing to make. Personally, my dad made unimaginable sacrifices when he first moved to America. Past the age of 30, my dad didn’t know any English when he first immigrated. He sacrificed 5 years of seeing his daughter in the mere hope of providing her a better future than the one he had. He endures being ridiculed and/ or ignored for his differences– his accent– yet, he continues to hold strong for his family. Sometimes, I can’t help but look back and wonder if I’m doing enough to make his sacrifice worth it. I wonder if he regrets having gone through all that hard work and wishes he had spent all that time in Korea with the rest of his family.

His sacrifice. Of comfort. Pride. Freedom. Just so my brother and I can have the privilege of eating what we want and dreaming of being whoever we want. His sacrifice means the world to me.

Referring back to A Tale of Two Cities, it was mind-boggling for me to see that Lucie mentions nothing of Sydney Carton after his sacrifice for her and her family. She only repeats “Look back, look back, and see if we’re being pursued” over and over again, which, while understandable, really undermines the weight of Carton’s sacrifice (Dickens 366). To be fair, I’m not sure if Lucie even knows how Darnay escaped his death sentence. While that would be reasonable, I am slightly upset Carton didn’t get the recognition he deserved from the characters. Perhaps I’m being biased.

**Vendôme Column**

at the Place Vendôme– celebrating Napoleon’s victory of the Battle of Austerlitz (another spot we visited on route of Carton’s final journey).

Walking through these streets, for this very reason, made me a little emotional. In our group discussion, we talked about how the little things are what really matter. It is the little things. I still remember the first week of freshman year when I came home to a little “Take a new fresh bandaid!!” sticky note and a box of bandaids from my roommate on my desk. I still remember waiting in line at Barnes and Noble when a stranger behind me commented that the book was a great choice (to be honest, I don’t think I ended up reading much of the book for years). Or when my friend insisted that she would pay for my drink.