In Marie de France’s Lanval, the stereotypical gender roles of male and female
are reversed. Marie gives the great lady of this lay the power to manipulate her lover and
thus, have power over the tract of the story. Lanval is described to have “valour,
generosity, beauty and prowness” at the start of the tale; all honorable, powerful male
attributes. In the face of his lady, however, he is only weak in comparison, standing to
only faintly complement her own great attributes of extreme beauty and enchanting
power (73).
The lady makes him promise that he will not share his love of her to anyone. Her
extension of power upon him is such that with his promise in mind, he insults the queen’s
beauty when she tries to take him as her lover. Though Lanval fails his lover at the
queen’s inquisition by answering who this “lady who should be prized above all others”
is, she is not totally lost unto him (77). The Lady has both the power to unleash extreme
condemnation for his actions and the power to retract. She ultimately decides against any
kind of punishment.
Instead, she grandly arrives to rescue and acquit her lover from captivity and
banishment from the land. This is not a conventional love, as the two choose to be set a
part from society. If society does not approve of their affair, the lovers take the initiative
to distance themselves from the temporary comforts of society in order to be together in
perfect recluse.
1. Journal: Consider and compare the sites we visited on our two city walks (choose at least three monuments).
I would like to preface this entry by saying how surprised I was when I first read this prompt for the journal entry, for when I was first walking through Notre Dame, I was contrasting the sacred versus commercial tourist traps on my own.
My first encounter with and burgeoning opinion formed on Notre Dame was from the exterior. The façade looked very plain and just like any other Gothic-style cathedral we have seen. However, when I walked over to the side and behind the church, the architecture was much more intricate and flamboyant with flying buttresses, lace patterns and gargoyle figures. At this point I was very much intrigued and anticipatory on what awaited for me inside.
When I walked inside the cathedral at the start of the nave, I felt a spiritual sense and decided to sit in one of the chairs. This was a very peaceful moment for me as I jointly took in the grand interior space and tried to imagine what this place was like throughout the ages for pilgrims past and present. As I moved down the nave towards the choir and apse, the environment ironically seemed to get more tourist-like. Groups of people and school children were crowded around the gates taking pictures of the choir/altar where some religious leaders were preparing for service. Here my sense of peace and of the spiritual started to fade but I decided to continue on and walk around the semi-circular apse where I found yet again more tourist-like traps within the atriums – models of the cathedral, a holy relic and old objects from the cathedral itself. I understand that these objects are important to the cathedral’s history, but I think that they should not be placed directly inside the church and should be placed elsewhere, like in the adjoining transept where one has to pay to see a museum of religious garments and accessories.
I was shocked upon the realization that service was beginning. Although there were people sitting in the aisles reverently, most others were walking around the cathedral taking pictures and acting in what seemed to be a disrespectful manner in consideration to what was supposed to be a religious environment. Just as I was trying to interpret what was happening with the above, I noticed four tourist coin souvenir machines. These are annoying in general and they should not have been directly placed next to the altar, in all respect. If they had to have them there, putting them outside by the entryway would have been more fitting.
I noticed later in the afternoon when coming back from seeing Sainte Chapelle
that the square in front of Notre Dame was swarmed with tourists. Maybe if I had arrived
then, my initial impression would have been more reluctant and prepared for the
emanating “tourist vibe” that awaited for me, than the contrasting relaxed and
anticipatory spiritual experience I originally expected.
The visit to Sainte Chapelle was a different kind of experience, gladly. I noticed
upon entering that there were not as many tourists maybe this was because of the
reservations needed and tight security). In contrast to Notre Dame, the exterior of Sainte
Chapelle did not immediately grab me, having to remind myself that the supporting
structures were strategically hidden on the interior space, which is a remarkable feat in
itself.
Secondly, I felt that the people who were there visiting mostly understood what
they were looking at in contrast to Notre Dame. Notre Dame seems to be famous for
only its name, whereas the famed stained glass of Sainte Chapelle gives a distinct identity
to the church. The lined nave of chairs gave visitors an appreciative position to view the
beautiful stained glass, most of which are original from the time the church was first
built.
There, the environment enabled me to be overtaken by the aesthetic splendor of
the colored lights reflecting off one another, then inquisitive about what exactly I was
looking at. I noticed the same demeanors on others in our group, as we were each
allowed to sit or stand at our own leisure and marvel at what was set before us. I really
wished that the scaffolding for the restoration of the apse was not there, for that would
have offered an even more brilliant sight.
My second visit to the Louvre was very different from the first. Granted that we had a greater length of time available to see more things and experience it at a different time of day, I am sure that if I visited again I would continue to find a different perception of the museum. When looking at the museum floor plan, I was surprised to notice that a large portion of the palace wings are unused for show to museum-goers. The very size of the building itself is so enormous in the context of a museum, I cannot imagine that it once served as a home to the greatest leaders of French history.
Those who resided within the Louvre strongly believed that war and martial force were necessary components to the attainment and preservation of power, and a normal part of human life. I feel that most people back then of all parts of society took this to be one of the standard social norms. Nowadays, however, this notion has definitely changed. Though there still may be those in power who see violence and war as a tool to the attainment of more power and recognition, the idea and implementation of peace and rationality is becoming the new tool of leadership and supremacy. Personally, I do not find it agreeable or necessary to have the idea or action of war and martial force to be a part of human life. One can become acquainted with and attain one’s potential by living without the fear of death, free to acquire and develop the necessary measures to achieve his/her goals. Though close encounters with death may remind us of our “purpose” or “meaning” in life, the constant presence of is not an essential motivating condition to actively pursue one’s fullest potential.
Humanity in general fights so much because each individual is inherently self-centered. We each want our own way, and when things do not go according to our own personal plans, we oftentimes take it as a personal threat to our well-being. The culture of the old aristocracy specially treated those who fight as heroes and potential leaders because they risked physical and mortal ailments for a seemingly “just” cause. I think that violent action used by those in power and authority is almost a quick-fix for what could be reached through patient dialogue. Authoritative places such as the Louvre commands respect, inhabited by those in power who held violence as a means of gaining and preserving success and forced respect from those around them. This concept of violence as a means to achieving anything and everything man wants directly reflects on the self-centered ideals of society. Though the physical elements of the Louvre are beautiful, the manner in which it was built was probably very different. In light of the modern day, I am glad that the ideas of non-violence, peaceful solidarity and dialogue are understood to be an alternative to sorting differences amongst all naturally self-concerned individuals.
A museum can be defined as a building or collection of buildings that houses different artifacts put on display for the general public viewing. The Louvre Museum is infamously known as being one of the largest and most visited museums in the world. Once a former palace, the building itself stands as a museum of architectural history. The expansive interior space is the home to hundreds of priceless pieces of art, dating all throughout the ages.
Although I feel that it only makes sense to group pieces of art according to context and in chronological order, the Louvre efficiently represents this means of organization well. Walking through, I felt that I could go at my own pace and personally plan out what exactly I wanted to see. With only the latter half of the morning and afternoon to see as much as I could, I narrowed what I wanted to see down to my favorite periods of history. I spent most of my time in the Sully and Denon wings, beginning on the ground floor of the Sully, I viewed the Department of Near Eastern Antiquities (*Law Code of Hammurabi) and the Department of Ancient Egyptian Antiquities (*The Seated Scribe), chronologically moving forward to the first floor in the Department of Greek, Roman and Etruscan antiquities, then onto the Denon wing in the Department of European paintings from the mid-thirteenth to mid-nineteenth century (*Mona Lisa).
Another museum I could compare to the Louvre is the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City. As one of my favorite museums, it can also be classified as one of the world’s greatest museums. I would compare this to be on a very small scale in comparison to the Louvre here in Paris. Just as how the Chateau de Vaux le Vicomte is a precursor to Versailles, I could say that the Met could act as a small-scale precursor to the Louvre. Both museums are set up in a very similar manner, placing the artifacts chronologically by historical time period.
The palace of Versailles is a different kind of museum of its own. It is comparable to the Louvre in that at one time they both stood as palaces and marks of great power during their respective time periods. Though the building of the Louvre is renowned and respected, it is now identified as one of the greatest houses of art instead of the grand palace it once was. In contrast, Versailles is a kind of museum with an historical context preserved; one where tourists visit for the purpose to see what life was like within the great palace. Thought there is great art within the rooms at Versailles, that is only a small part of the greater experience of
seeing the rooms for how they once were.
Museums in general bother me in the sense of their function and duality as a preserverof history and taking the artifacts out of their original contexts. When at the Louvre this past week, I was looking at one small portrait stationed off to a side corner in one of the galleries. It was weird realization to think that at one time that portrait was not only an actual person, but was prized and an important representation of the sitter’s wealth. In the context of the modern day, I guess there is no perfect way to fully present and understand things of the past. The best we can do is to respect and attempt at preserving what is left through the efforts of restoration practices and museums in which to house.
Though the definition of what is and what is not art is open to subjective debate, I think that for something to be qualified as “art,” it must embody quality and skill, be thought-provoking and inspired. Things that are not art do not encompass these qualities. Ernest Hemingway lived during a time when the concept of what art is was being redefined. Many people believed that the new forms of creativity were garish and were far from qualified to be the “true art” of the sophisticated, classical kind.
An expatriate, Hemingway was an American writer who moved to Paris with the focus to practice and perfect his writing. At the start of his book, A Moveable Feast, Hemingway describes the growth of his writing:
“If I started to write elaborately, or like someone introducing or presenting something, I found that I could cut that scrollwork or ornament out and throw it away and start with the first true simple declarative sentence I had written” (12).
Hemingway broke from standard literary ideals of his time period by writing these “true simple declarative sentence(s)” as opposed to the classically popular Victorian style of writing which he refers to as “scrollwork or [as an] ornament.”
He found inspiration for his writing through other artistic radicals of the period. Mentioning the painter Cezanne a few times throughout his work, he credits him with helping him find the true path to writing:
“I was learning something from the painting of Cezanne that made writing simple true sentences far from enough to make the stories have the dimensions that I was trying to put in them” (13).
Just as Walter Pater was saying in this week’s class reading, Studies In The History of the Renaissance, art gives us something to identify and diversity ourselves through subjective, aesthetic perception. It can be said that Hemingway was inspired by Cezanne’s simple, crude usage of color and line to create a dramatic outcome and response in the viewer. In the same way, Hemingway aimed to use simplicity through his writing to create complexity, accurately describing the things he wrote about.
“When they said, “It’s great, Ernest. Truly it’s great. You cannot know the thing it has,” I wagged my tail in pleasure and plunged into the fiesta concept of life to see if I could not bring some fine attractive stick back, instead of thinking, “If these bastards like it what is wrong with it?” That was what I would think if I had been functioning as a professional although, if I had been functioning as a professional, I would never have read it to them” (209).
Later on in his writing career in Paris he recognizes that only he himself can be the master and final judge of his own work. Why should he listen only to others’ favorable criticisms when he should be the only critic of his art? In regards to his writing, Hemingway viewed it as a continuous art form that could always be fixed and corrected until he established what was true through the simplest means of words.
I would mark Ernest Hemingway to be my most favorite and admired writer. The “Hemingway Walk” was one of the things I looked forward most to on this trip when looking over the syllabus. As much as one can learn from reading about Hemingway and his literature, the experience of being in Paris and seeing the section of Paris that was Hemingway’s world was an invaluable experience to me. From this walk I felt that I was able to better understand the expatriate Hemingway I admire so much.
I have read A Moveable Feast twice now; once for leisure during my senior year of high school, and again for this trip. Each time I have read and glanced over the text I find new things with new meanings, as what should happen with any good text. However; putting Hemingway’s life into context by visiting the physical space of his past made me understand his work on a whole different level. For one, I was able to recognize places around Paris that were mentioned in A Moveable Feast. Hemingway mentions that the Jardin du Luxembourg is one of his favorite contemplation spots, and I can say now that I, too, have experienced the grandiose serenity of the gardens. Sylvia Beach’s Shakespeare & Co. is another place which Hemingway devotes a whole chapter to. By being physically within the place, I better understood the great importance it had upon Hemingway’s career as a starving artists, and appreciated the bookshop’s purpose to aid amateur writers. Hemingway also mentions his apartment on “74 rue Cardinal Lemoine,” noting that he lived on the third floor. On the guided tour, one of the first places we stopped to visit was this very address.
During Thursday’s Montmartre Walk, I liked how the tour guide incorporated visual examples of the artists’ work into her oral description of the places we visited. It made the area come to life and jogged my imagination of how life was for the artists living in that exact space. For example, when the guide showed us Van Gogh’s painting of a windmill up the small hill of a side street, the representation of the street was almost identical. I was excited to realize that not only had Van Gogh been on this particular street at one time, but had pretty much witnessed the same, mostly unchanged view as I was at that very moment.
At Montmartre, I did feel as if I were in a different place than Paris. It felt like its own little community of preserved and continued-on artistic history. Artists still swarmed the streets sketching and painting, taking after their great predecessors. Beyond the artistic vibe, Montmartre seemed to be calm and isolated from the busy Parisian boulevards. If I were to design my own walking tour of Paris, I would incorporate grand sights such as the Eiffel Tower against a more calm, realistic place such as Montmartre. This would demonstrate not only the rich history of Paris, but its many faces.
Though both the Hemingway and the Montmartre Walks are known for their respective locations, it truly was the feeling derived from each that identifies them. To me, Paris is not just one place with a single feeling; it is indeed multi-faceted and can evoke a myriad of personal responses. Since being here I agree with the words of Hemingway that Paris is, indeed, a moveable feast. Just as reading the same text manifests a different response each time read, so does the city of Paris, continually changing to fit as one changes.
No comments:
Post a Comment