The Red & The Black

Curious coincidences today... the kind that arouse my curiosity. I got on the Metro headed for Shakespeare and Company, the English bookstore that Hemingway made famous. I like it. I was there the other day and almost bought a couple of books. I went back today to get them and, I thought I'd add Tolstoy to the mix. I read on the Metro, which I always do. I'm reading How Fiction Works by James Wood, a fascinating book that analyzes what makes good fiction. Today, I read about The Red and The Black, a French novel by Stendhal. Wood got my attention: I started thinking I should read Stendhal.  (The photo is not of the bookstore, but is nearby.)

Stendhal is a contemporary, alive in my time period. In fact, The Red and The Black was published in 1830, the year my book opens. So, when I got to Shakespeare and Company and they didn't have the translation of War and Peace that Andrew told me to get, I bought The Red and The Black instead. About an hour later in the midst of a serious rain storm, I sat in a little café, drinking wine and reading the introduction—I learned that:

On 29 July 1830 in Paris during the July Revolution, a red and black flag was seen flying from the Vendôme Column signifying a fight to the death. On 25 February 1830 at the first night of Hernani, red and black tickets were issued to the claque chosen to champion Victor Hugo's new Romantic drama within the last bastion of Classical taste, the Comédie Francaise. What better title could Stendhal have chosen…

The Vendôme Column was erected by Napoleon to celebrate a war victory. At the time of the 1830 uprising, it was topped with a statue of Napoleon crowned in laurels and holding a sword in his right hand, a globe in his left. The statue resisted an attempt in 1814 to pull it down. Thus, the "fight to the death" symbolism. This is not something I knew. The statue of Napoleon was finally pulled down, after the 1830 rebellion. Louis Napoleon commissioned a replacement probably in the latter part of the 19th century. The Vendôme Column is near the Madeleine church, where Chopin's funeral was held.

Within about an hour of the time I read that, I saw a street demonstration—people parading with red and black flags. The Left, communists and anarchists. Yesterday farmers came to Paris and burned hay along Champs-Élysées. They were protesting the prices they're getting for grain. I'm not sure what today's demonstration was about, but it was Red and Black. Truly. Lots of red and black flags, perhaps signaling "a fight to the death." Synchronicity. The street violence of 1830 must include flags. Demonstrators in Paris run with flags. And the church bells were ringing this afternoon; I don't know why.

I was in the Latin Quarter because I decided to go to another piano concert. 160 years ago today (October 17, 1849), Frederick Chopin died. Is there any connection between Chopin and Stendhal? They were friends. And I do know Tolstoy said he "was indebted to Stendhal." Another interesting tidbit: Stendhal knew Lord Byron, and like Byron, seems to have been obsessed with women and falling in love—though for Stendhal, it was mostly unrequited. He wrote a book on love.

It was held in the same little church—the Church of Saint Julien le Pauvre—where last Sunday I heard the Beethoven and Chopin concert. This time I got a front row seat, a perfect view of the pianists hands moving on the keyboard. It was phenomenal. It made me cry.

One more bit of curious synchronicity: the main character in The Red and The Black is named Julien.  My interpretation of all this? I'm not sure, except clearly I must read the book. I have the feeling it's going to be both useful and influential. Stendhal is not considered a Romantic. He's rather one of the first Realists and his psychological analysis of character, so early in the 19th century is considered unprecedented. His real name is Marie-Henri Beyle; Stendhal is a pen name.

Saint Julien le Pauvre is just around the corner from the bookstore, Shakespeare & Company. There's a tree behind the chapel, in the little park that abuts it, that was planted in 1602. If you look carefully you'll see the cement in the trunk that's helping, I guess, to support the trunk? I'm not sure.

I spent the afternoon walking around the area near the church. I found a little shop that sells purses, scarves, hats, gloves and jewelry. I loved their stuff and ended up buying gloves, which I had been wanting for last few days, and also a big warm scarf, which I was very happy to have sitting in the church. It was cold enough to cause me to worry about the pianist. I guess the fact that she was working hard kept her warm.