Death in the City of Lights

And just like that, we have survived another 20,000 steps/day week in Europe! Our explorations have brought us to Notre Dame, Versailles, the Panthéon, and the Invalides; all some of the most grandiose structures in Paris. As somewhat of an “architecture-junkie” none of these disappointed and offered such variety in architectural style, ornamentation, and grandeur. I could not keep myself from marveling at the magnificent stonework of Notre Dame and the incredibly intricate rotunda of the Panthéon. While appreciating these incredible sights, it was increasingly apparent that there was a central theme that unified them: death. Death in the form of an infamous tomb, a modest crypt, or the charred remains of a 900-year-old monument. Grappling with death and destruction these past few days has been an unexpected part of this trip, yet a welcome challenge that, interestingly, pairs well with the readings.

Anyone familiar with the work of Victor Hugo knows his stories are no stranger to death as they are often used in different capacities to illuminate different parts of the human experience and to advance the universe in which his stories are set. In the case of Javert, his sudden death was unique in that he did end his own life, but not in the name of sacrifice; in fact, quite the opposite. Javert ending his life as he struggles with his morality, the central pillar of his existence, highlights Hugo’s underlying themes about the human soul; particularly the resilience yet fragility that characterize it. Exploring the area where Javert’s suicide took place was surprisingly powerful, despite being a fictional sequence. While we didn’t explore the area as a class, I had on quite a few occasions passed through the area around the Pont Notre Dame and Pont au Change at different times of the day. These visits evoked the same feelings of the soul that Hugo builds upon through his novel. I could not help but think of his final moments along the river, what drives people to this point of despair, and how Hugo so tragically yet elegantly captures this moment. These thoughts and feelings are best summed up by the section that reads:

“Infallibility is not infallible, there can be error in dogma, all has not been said when a penal code has spoken, society is not perfect, authority is complicated by an element of vacillation, a creaking of the immutable is possible, judges are men, the law may err, tribunals may be mistaken! To see a crack in the immense blue glass of the firmament!”
— Les Miserables (1185)

Tomb of Marie Curie at the Panthéon

Tomb of Victor Hugo at the Panthéon

Napoleon’s Tomb at Les Invalides

Switching gears to the more personal, visiting the resting places of Charles Dickens, Victor Hugo, Marie Curie, and Napoleon all provided different feelings around the experience of death itself, compared to exploring the area of the Javert incident. Napoleon’s tomb, for example, was magnificent and commanded attention yet there was certainly an atmosphere of hesitation and disdain for his actions and the anti-democratic dictatorship he installed. Conversely, Marie Curie’s tomb was understated compared to Napoleon's, yet its beautiful flower arrangement for her and her husband provided a sense of appreciation and respect for their incredible work and research. Victor Hugo’s tomb was perhaps the most powerful, as it sat alone but was decorated with a single, wilted flower with a small notecard with a message to the effect of “Thank you so much for all your work, we still feel your influence today.” All of those tombs impacted me in such different ways, these people whose works I had read, theories I had studied, and wars I had learned about had become real people right in front of me. Their legacies had become more than words on paper or a history channel documentary but people who were immortalized for all to see and appreciate despite never coexisting.

For those who have experienced loss, whether personally or by extension, it is an experience completely incomparable to any other. Tragic and heart-wrenching yet central to the human experience and a reality we all must face one day. This idea of loss is exactly what the quote below discusses, how it is imperative to cherish the mind, soul, and feelings of another person rather than the physical form. This becomes especially true in the case of those who you may not have known but have learned about through family, friends, or school and have grown to admire. By appreciating their being and the impact they had because of their mere existence, we can reconnect with those the world has lost and continue to reap the rewards of their intellect. This is no better exemplified in the anonymous note left on Victor Hugo’s tomb; even 140 years after passing, his works continue to influence our society today. I felt a connection to Marie Curie’s burial site as I’ve spent years studying chemistry and her impact on the discipline comes up everywhere. To see her resting place and feel her impact firsthand was an amazing experience that I did not expect to have on this trip. The Panthéon and places like it hold a special purpose in that they are a vector for human spirituality, to connect with those who touched the world and continue to influence it with their writings, discoveries, or thoughts and we as a society are lucky to still access this incredible wealth of humanity.

“Woe, alas! to any that have loved only bodies, forms, appearances! Death will deprive them of everything. Try to love souls; you will be reunited with them.”
— Les Miserables (839)