Paris Werewolves

Under the tree beneath the famed dome of Galeries Lafayette, 9th Arr. Christmas in France tends towards the traditional. There are carnival rides set up around festive markets, where you can buy gift items and holiday treats such as vin chaud (warm mulled wine) and nougat sliced from huge slabs. The patisseries swap in desserts such as bûche de Noël , which are basically thin, buttercream-frosted cakes, rolled like Hostess Ho-Hos into logs ( bûches ) and decorated with sugar mushrooms, ivy, mistletoe, and other woodland symbiotes. These are not to be confused with Catalonia's tio de Nadal , the Christmas log that Catalan children whack with sticks until it shits out candy and presents--like a scatological piñata, with delicious turds substituting for delicious internal organs. More traditional are galettes de rois , flaky cakes stuffed with a creamy almond paste called frangipane . Named for the three kings from the Gospel of Matthew's nativity story, they are traditionally se

On a freezing night, along a dingy Paris backstreet in the 10th Arrondissement, we found him. He was living under an alias, but there was no question it was him. He didn't even bother to go into a different line of work. Now we have to figure out how to get him back to The Hub.

Little Big Bear, bedecked in glorious Blue and Gold, 6th Arr. For reasons I have not figured out, there seem to be more than a few allusions to Berkeley and its iconography around France. So far I have found two restaurants in Paris named "Berkeley;" another in Lyon was painted Blue and Gold, as is the Little Big Bear Pub in Paris' 6th Arrondissement. One wall of honor in Harry's New York Bar--operating in the 2nd Arr. since the 1920s--rightly places a vintage Oski pennant above hundreds of others.  Oski glowers from atop a wall in Harry's New York Bar, 2nd Arr. A trio of Berkeley establishments in Lyon, and in the 8th and 7th Arrs. The restaurant names probably refer to either Berkeley Square in London--which sits on land originally owned by the third Baron Berkeley of Stratton (1663-1697)--or to the Irish philosopher George Berkeley (1685-1753), Bishop of Cloyne. From what I can recall from my undergraduate philosophy courses (not much), Bishop Berkeley (pronoun

Members of an armored cavalry regiment parading on Pont de Grenelle, 15th Arr. I took a bikeshare to Parc Citroën to use their outdoor exercise equipment this morning. It's not quite three miles from my apartment, and today was the first time in a week that it was not raining or near freezing temperatures, making it about as safe for biking as you could hope for on Paris streets. On my way back home, I stopped to watch a small military ceremony on the Pont de Grenelle. As far as I can tell, today's date was not of military significance, so it must a specific unit's affair--a promotion, graduation, or awards ceremony, perhaps. Military units around Paris are a pretty common sight--but they are usually conducting small patrols near government buildings and tourist areas, always in fatigues and armed with assault weapons. This goes back at least to the coordinated terrorist attacks on the Club Bataclan, the Stade-de-France and a kosher grocery store in 2015. The number of patr

Left: Frankenstein mascaron, 7th. Arr. Right, Boris Karloff figure, Musée Grévin In the architecture and decorative arts around France, I've spotted resemblances to Dracula , the mummy , a sea creature , and more werewolves than I can recall. So it was just a matter of time before Frankenstein showed up. And yes, I refer to the creature as Frankenstein, against the tide of English literature professors and horror scolds alike. A key theme in Mary Shelley's 1818 novel is patrimony, specifically what fathers (in this case, the Creator) owe their progeny. If the Creature is Frankenstein's forsaken offspring (it is), early 19th century European society would have recognized its surname in fact, if not in legal entitlements. If everyone knew that a disavowed and neglected bastard was yours (and the readers of the novel certainly knew), and it had no given name and no known mother, by what other name could it be called but yours?  So the doctor is Frankenstein, and so, by custom

  Inspecting the high-water mark of the 1910 Paris Flood, La Conciergerie, 1st Arr. I'm not sure what I expected from a visit to La Conciergerie in the 1st Arrondissement. The only thing I really knew about it was that it served as the holding cells for people charged with counter-Revolutionary activities beginning in 1793. The accused included not only Louis XVI, Marie Antoinette and other members of the royal and noble families, but also everyday people denounced by their neighbors, family members, or someone with whom they had a personal or professional beef. At the height of the Terror, the revolutionary courts allowed for only two trial outcomes: acquittal or death. So about 4 in 5 defendants were railroaded through a speedy show trial, and whisked off from the Conciergerie to the Place de la Révolution (now Place de la Concorde) for execution. Hence La Conciergerie's reputation as the antechamber to the guillotine. The ledger of La Conciergerie's temporary guests. Lik