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Lesbian Literary Paris

“America is my country, but Paris is my hometown." --Gertrude Stein

It’s hard to tromp about Paris without running into something literary. Whether it’s a sidewalk scene memorialized in a book, or a plaque commemorating a historic address where someone from the canon resided, Paris is a seemingly never-ending wonderland for those of us who never could get our head out of a book. Pre and post-World War II lesbian literary history converged in Paris, creating a vibrant and busy artistic scene, the haunts of which have become legendary. After reading my fair share of Colette (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Colette), Djuna Barnes (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Djuna_Barnes), and Gertrude Stein (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gertrude_Stein), and hearing of Sylvia Beach’s (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sylvia_Beach) works and the original Shakespeare & Company bookstore, and Natalie Barney’s famous literary salons (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Natalie_Barney), I knew the pilgrimage’s time had come. So I set off to walk in the footsteps of some of lesbian literature’s

I figured, if you’re going to drudge up history, it can’t hurt to commune with the spirits, right? So I started at Pere-Lachaise Cemetery (16 rue de Repos, 20th Arrondissment; http://www.pere-lachaise.com), final resting place of Colette, Stein, Sarah Bernhardt (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sarah_Bernhardt), Marcel Proust (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Marcel_Proust), and Oscar Wilde (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Oscar_wilde) among so many others. There aren’t many other cemeteries where the sheer volume of famous spirit is so large. It’s free, although the few euros for a map at the entrance help make for a more organized walk about the 100 acres of some of the most beautiful graves ever dug. Stein’s grave is simple and unassuming, with the name and dates of her beloved Alice B. Toklas fittingly engraved in the back of her granite tombstone. Forever together, though Toklas a little more in shadow. Colette’s tomb is also rather plain and unassuming, though littered with the flowers of many admirers. Wandering through the cemetery can take up a good chunk of an afternoon, as many graves are tucked in away from either of the entrances, so plan a little time to wander here and soak it in.

I then headed over to the red-light district Pigalle, near Montmartre. The area is dedicated to those of more prurient interest but is home to the infamous Moulin Rouge (82 Boulevard de Clichy, 18th Arrondissement; tel. 33-1-53-09-82-82; http://www.moulinrouge.fr) with its telltale windmill out front. Well before it was a made into a movie and moved into its current, very touristy state, this cabaret was home to the infamous 1907 onstage kiss between Colette and offstage lover Mathilde de Morny during a show. Police were brought in to settle the crowd and all future performances of the show were canceled. (That must’ve been quite a kiss!) You can still have dinner and see a show here, but no Colette or Toulouse-Lautrec (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Toulouse_Lautrec) in his absinthe (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Absinthe) addled way to keep you company. Too bad, they seemed to have quite a time here.

Just up the hill is the beautiful and artistic Montmartre area, historic home to painters, writers, and bohemians of all stripes. I didn’t want to walk the hill (think San Francisco) and jumped on the great bus that picks up near Pigalle and runs all over the area ending at Sacre-Coeur (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sacre_Coeur). The fare is the same as other city busses and covered if you have a day pass on the Metro (http://www.ratp.info/informer/anglais/index.php). The ways in which the driver takes the summit and winds along the sidewalks is a little hair-raising, but also a good story for the folks back home. While Picasso (http://www.picasso.fr/anglais/) lived many places in Paris, no. 13 rue Gabrielle was in this one that he painted his famous pre-Cubist portrait of Gertrude Stein (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Image:Stein_by_picasso.jpg), the one that would grace the walls of her salon for years. If you want your own portrait done to hang in your salon, head over to Place du Tertre (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Place_du_Tertre) where current day artists showcase their art and create new works on the spot.

After a good afternoon of wandering and in need of actual lesbians and not their ghosts, I took the bus back down and hopped on the Metro to head over to Marais (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Marais#Le_Marais_today), Paris’ gay district. I stopped in at the lesbian bar La Champmeslé (4 rue Chabanais,2nd Arrondissement; Tel. 33-1-42-96-85-20; http://www.lachampmesle.com/) for an end-of-the-day drink. Named after the 17th century actress of the same name, La Champmeslé opened in the late 1970s, giving it a bit of history of its own. There’s a monthly art exhibit of mostly lesbian artists, and the bar is home to a popular Thursday night cabaret show. And if you’re looking for somewhere to go late, the bar is open until 3 a.m. most nights except Friday and Saturday when it’s open until dawn.

The next morning, I headed across the Seine to the literary Left Bank. I was initially overwhelmed by the number of places to see, but all of them are easily incorporated into a good afternoon walk. Starting at the church of Saint Germain des Prés, the triangle of cafes Café des Deux Magots (6 Place Saint Germain des Prés, 6th Arrondissement; tel. 33-1-45-48-55-25; http://www.lesdeuxmagots.fr), Café de Flore (172 Boulevard Saint Germain, 6th Arrondissement; tel. 33-1-45-48-55-26; http://www.cafe-de-flore.com/indexa.htm) and Brasserie Lipp (151 Boulevard Saint Germain, 6th Arrondisement; tel. 33-1-45-48-72-93; http://www.brasserie-lipp.fr) started my steep in literary history and offered a good dose of caffeine and food in preparation for the walk. These three gathering spots, right in the heart of everything, were the hangouts for everbody in the day, documented by their rich stories and photos. In Deux Magot you can see a photo of dashing lesbian journalist Janet Flanner (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Janet_Flanner) dressed in military clothing and hanging out with Ernest Hemingway. And in tribute to their past and in cultivation of the future, Café de Flore and Deux Magots still offer literary prizes to aspiring writers. The walls themselves even seem to speak here and it’s easy to picture gaggles of writers reading and writing at the tables that spill out onto the quaint street.

From there it’s an easy walk over to No. 20 rue Jacob where American transplant Natalie Clifford Barney (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Natalie_Barney), lover of poet René Vivien (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ren%C3%A9e_Vivien), hosted her famous literary salons for almost 60 years. Barney made it her life’s work to support the creativity of women, and her Friday night salons were a who’s who of artists and the women who loved them. Just down the way from Barney’s old home is Hotel d’Angleterre (44 rue Jacob, 6th Arrondissement; tel. 33-1-42-60-34-72; http://www.hotel-dangleterre.com/) where you can still sleep within the same walls as Djuna Barnes (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Djuna_Barnes) lesbian author of the moody tale of longing Nightwood, who once made her home here. Over a 5 rue Christine is a simple plaque marking one of Stein and Toklas’ apartments, though not their most famous, which I found later on the walk.

The original Shakespeare and Company by Sylvia Beach (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sylvia_Beach), stood at 12 rue de l’Odéon. All that’s left now is a plaque, but in its day, it was the most famous English-language lending library in Paris and a gathering spot for the popular and the fringe of the literary scene. Beach’s store sat across the street from La Maison des Amis des Livres, her lover Adrienne Monnier’s French bookshop. These two women created one of the centers of not only book lending and sales in Paris between the wars, but a second home for writers through readings, reviews, and publishing.

At 37 rue de la Bucherie, just along the Seine and across from Notre Dame is the “newer” Shakespeare and Company (5th Arrondissement; tel. 33 1 43 25 40 93; http://www.shakespeareco.org) opened in 1951 by ex-pat George Whitman in the style of Beach’s store. It has become an institution in its own right and quite literally is like walking around in a book, with all of the surprises and twists one might expect on the page. It occurred to me that this was the sort of place where a book finds you. The list of writers who have passed through the store is extensive, including the infamous Anais Nin (http://www.anaisnin.com/). The store is full of English language books in every category. Take time and care to ascend the stairs and check out the Sylvia Beach Memorial Library. The stairs may seem like you’re taking your life into your own hands, but the adventure is in the journey right? The rare book shop next door is loaded with first and unique editions of practically everything including a fare sampling of lesbian literati.

After a short winding walk, I came upon one of the seminal locations in literary history. Marked by a small plaque, 27 rue de Fleurus (http://www.ellensplace.net/gstein4.html) stands as the memory of the long-time home of Stein and Toklas. For years here, Stein hosted an A-list of artists and writers who came through Paris. Though all I can do is stand out front and marvel at the simple white façade of the apartment building, it’s amazing to think of all those that passed over the threshold: Hemingway, Matisse, and more. While Barney focused on women, Stein focused on men with Toklas entertaining the artists’ wives and dates while Stein and the men discussed other matters, a legendary delineation in their marriage. The walls here were famously full of volumes of paintings by Picasso, Manet, Renoir, and more.

I cruise down to the end of the street where it practically dumps into the majestic Luxembourg Gardens (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Luxembourg_Gardens), a feature in many writings about Paris and hallowed walking grounds for many writers. It’s easy to imagine Stein and Toklas taking their poodle Basket out for a stroll here. Barnes pacing about looking for the right word. Colette ambling about studying faces for her next character sketch. Nin scribbling in her diary. The gardens are littered with benches and comfortable chairs that encourage an afternoon of noodling in a notebook. And that’s where I end the tour. Looking out across the green of the gardens. Soaking in the ghosts.

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