La Comédie Française

Four years ago, I spent a magical summer in Paris, capturing memories in a long-forgotten blog. Every Thursday, I’ll post my favorite entries from that blog. This is reprinted from 7-20-10.

Highlights of my day

• A white chocolate macaroon with heavy cream and fresh raspberries
• Walking through the Marais at one in the morning. The Marais is one of the few neighborhoods where one does not get eye-raped by French men while walking through the paved streets, mostly because these French men are interested in other French men.
• A little crêpe shop by St. Germain des Près where the crepes are hot, ladled with white chocolate, tart berry jam, and raspberry syrup.
• I think the French are an exhibitionist culture. From the couples doing things on the streets that would make my grandmother cringe, to the men jogging in what could barely be called their unmentionables in the Luxembourg Gardens during the day, there is something in this culture that the States have (thankfully) not caught onto yet. [okay, so this is technically not a highlight but an observation]
• Watching a play at the Comédie Française. La Comédie Française was France’s first public theater established in 1680, that puts up productions by Shakespeare, Molière, Racine, and other classic playwrights. Another cool fact about it is that the statue of Voltaire in the Comédie Française contains his brain inside of it, preserved in alcohol (his heart, on the other hand, is on semi-display at the National Library, not sure how I would feel if I were dismembered like that). The play I watched was “Cyrano de Bergerac” and while it was difficult to understand the quippy verse, I was able to follow along. The scenes and the costumes were great, and whenever someone got stabbed to death, red rose petals would spring from the wound in the stead of blood, which made the comedic play more whimsical.