Diary of a Frenchman: A Soldiers Story, Part Deux

From the diary of Pierre Maugin, Corporal, 119th Regiment of the French Army, we gain insight into the life of a soldier in 1871. To recap; the Prussian army has surrounded Paris and captured Napoleon III. In the heart of Paris is civil unrest, "La Commune", the grandmother of the socialist movement. The army must defend the government from both factions, meanwhile Paris is starving. Dated January 2nd, 1871: "Crossing Neuilly at 4:00 in the afternoon we were called to Paris to take over the Hotel de Ville. (occupied by "La Commune") We had to stay the whole night in the street. We went to seek shelter in the stables of the police. All we had to eat was the horses. From outside of Paris we could hear bombs from the Prussians and we felt the fighting spirit of revolt. January 23rd: "We have moved into the barracks of Quai d'Orsay between Invalides and Champs de Mars. The price of butter has reached 50 francs a pound. Eggs are 1 franc each." February 3rd: "We have moved to Goeblins and Rue Moufftard. There is no bread to be bought. People would queue two hours for bread and only 300 grams of bread was available for the day. We had a ration card from the baker. Everyone was eating cats and dogs, and rats cost 1 franc each!" Next week the story takes a turn, while Paris continues its foray into creative cuisine. Note: To put things into perspective, the approximate value by todays standards, (in U.S. currency) for a pound of butter would be $12.50. One dozen eggs would be $3.00, and a delicious rat; 25 cents!

Le Tour d'Eiffel: Masculine or Feminine?

I was strolling Quai Branly with Madame V the other day which naturally lead us past the "Big Kahuna" of french monuments, le Tour d'Eiffel. A marvel of engineering, it loses any and all cliché when you stand in it's shadow and study the design and construction. I never tire of it, when I take the Metro (line 6) the elevated tracks cross over the Seine offering passengers a perfect view, inspiring even the most dedicated parisian grinch to smile. A magical energy exisits for a 100 meter radius that is palpable - the air fairly crackles with excitement as one approaches it's domain. "She eez beeyouteefool, non?" V asked (rhetorically). "Ahh oui" I nodded, "but tu penser elle est une femme? Toujours, j'penser c'etait masculine, comme un grand penis!" (I think you get my drift). I was suprised to hear V saw this structure as feminine as I had never looked at it in that way. In my eye it has always seemed a masculine object, it's strong shaft jutting into the sky adamantly against the wind. "She eez strong like a woman" V explained, "and gracefool". I cocked my head to one side and regarded the tower thoughtfully. I could see V's point, there is a definite grace to the shape of her legs, her slender waistline, her swan like neck. I guess it's all the way you look at it - like a giant Rorshach test! As we discussed the finer points of it's gender we meandered toward it, drawn in by the seductive magnetism that exudes - yes, like a beautiful woman - from it's core. Suddenly, as we walked between "her" legs and underneath her "skirt" I felt I shouldn't look upward, it would be rude! Later that evening, I broached the subject of "masculine v. feminine" with friends over dinner. The opinion of the room was divided pretty much 50/50, interestingly enough the men in the room saw the tower as masculine, while the women had decided it projected femininity. We spent 20 minutes engaged in passionate pseudo-intellectual debate (as the french are wont to do), when the brilliant Jean-Claude declared, "It's metro-sexual!" Touché Jean-Claude.