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The Bookstalls of Paris

You are likely one of three types of people when it comes to Paris: A first time visitor, someone who loves the city and returns multiple times, or a person who has never been to Paris and probably never will. For those folks who return time and time again, they quickly determine it’s not necessary to re-visit the Eiffel Tower, Notre Dame, or any of the other well-known icons of Paris (in all fairness, I could visit the Louvre and the Musée d’Orsay on each visit). What they begin to discover is a city full of French uniqueness that many first-time tourists never experience. Just by walking and keeping your eyes open, you’ll find the Wallace Fountains (read Wallace Fountains here), the remaining pissoirs (read Please, No Pissoirs in Public! here), medieval carvings on the sides of buildings (read One-Eyed Kate here), the small shops, talk with the “pee ladies” (read The Pee Ladies of Paris here), the city’s original Roman amphitheater, and medallions imbedded in the concrete marking the location of a hidden river flowing below your feet (read A River Runs Through It and Under It here). They also learn to look up at the buildings so as not to miss the plaques, reliefs, and other unique aspects of the architecture.

Wallace fountain outside the Shakespeare and Co. bookstore on the Left Bank (4e). Photo by Sandy Ross (2017).
Arènes de Lutèce
Arènes de Lutèce (5e), a Roman amphitheater. Photo by Sandy Ross (2015).

One of the cultural icons you can’t miss if you walk along the Seine River are the bouquinistes (boo-keen-eest) or bookstalls where you can buy second-hand books, engravings, prints, magazines, collector’s stamps, and antique postcards.


Did You Know?

I’ve said this over and over. The world’s largest museum is likely twelve feet below the streets of Paris. Well, here’s another example. A medieval crypt has been discovered below an underground parking garage in the Latin Quartier. It is located on Rue Pierre-Nicole (I’m attempting to confirm the street number but I think it is either no. 14 bis or no. 11). The crypt is all that remains of the 7th-century church built by Saint Eloi—Église Sainte-Marie-des-Champs. It was here that the remains of the French kings were interred until that tradition shifted to the Basilique Cathédrale de Saint-Denis. Unfortunately, the medieval church was destroyed during the French Revolution. The recent floods have damaged the crypt and the city would like to begin restoration and then open the crypt up to the public. They are in negotiations now with the property owner. Let’s hope an agreement can be reached so that another excellent example of medieval Paris becomes available to us. Learn more here.

Inside the crypt. Photo by anonymous (date unknown).
Inside the crypt. Photo by anonymous (date unknown).

Medieval Origins: True or False?

The story has it that a ship carrying books sank in the Seine as it passed through the heart of the city. The books were recovered, taken onshore to be dried out, and then sold on the quais above the river. These books became known as bouquins or, small old bashed books. The name was derived from buch or, the German word for book (some think it originated from the Dutch word meaning small book, boeckin). Reportedly, this happened in the late 15th-century.

The bouquinistes established themselves on the Pont Neuf until they got kicked off the bridge (the established bookstores complained) and relocated to either side of the river where they were allowed to sell their books on holidays and hours when the bookstores were closed. Read More The Bookstalls of Paris

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The Parisian Bluebeard is Guillotined

I suppose I gave away the ending of this story via the title of the blog. But don’t worry, I think you’ll enjoy the story (unfortunately, the victims and their relatives didn’t).

I previously introduced you to the infamous French serial killer, Dr. Marcel Petiot, in my blog Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde (click here to read). I jokingly refer to him as “Jacques the Ripper.” Today, I’d like you to meet another serial killer who, in the early 20th century, became known as the “French Bluebeard.” Ironically, his beard was red and not blue. Despite different circumstances, he and Dr. Petiot met the same fate.


Did You Know?

Did you know we get the most hits on our blog posts when we use the word “guillotine” in the title?


Let’s Meet Henri Désiré Landru

Henri Désiré Landru (1869−1922) was born in Paris to working class parents. They were so overjoyed they bore a son that they gave him the middle name Désiré which means “much desired.” By all records, Henri’s mother and father provided a loving family atmosphere and did an exceptional job at parenting the boy. Henri was schooled by monks, served as an altar boy, and sang in the church choir. Henri was very intelligent and by the age of sixteen, he was studying mechanical engineering.

Henri Désiré Landru. Photo by anonymous (date unknown).
Henri Désiré Landru. Photo by anonymous (date unknown).

At the age of eighteen, Henri began his four-year service in the French army and eventually reached the rank of sergeant. After his discharge are when the problems began. Henri had been raised in relative poverty and he made the decision he would not return to that life style, whatever the cost.

Within two years of leaving the military, Henri had married his cousin and ultimately sired four children. Instead of finding gainful employment, Henri decided to pursue a life of crime and started with petty theft. He landed in jail many times and never showed any remorse for his actions. His father was so distraught over his son’s behavior that he hanged himself believing he had failed as a parent.

The Bluebeard Fairytale

The popular late-17th-century French fairytale of “Bluebeard” tells the story of a very violent but powerful man (with a blue beard because he was of the aristocracy—in other words, a blue blood) who murders his wives for disobeying him. After killing them, he would hang their bodies on hooks in a basement room of his large château. The French folk tale was inspired by the 15th-century Breton serial killer, Gilles de Rais (c. 1405−1440).

His last wife, the youngest daughter of a neighbor, was given a set of keys by Bluebeard with the admonishment that she could go anywhere in the château except for the locked basement room. Then he was off on a trip and left his wife all alone in the château.

Barbe Bleue (Bluebeard). Engraving by Gustave Doré (1862). Bibliothèque nationale de France. PD-100+. Wikimedia Commons.
Barbe Bleue (Bluebeard). Engraving by Gustave Doré (1862). Bibliothèque nationale de France. PD-100+. Wikimedia Commons.

After a while, she grew naturally curious about what was inside the locked room. One day, she took the keys, opened the door, and stepped into the room. There she was faced with the hideous remains of her husband’s previous wives. The floor was covered in blood and at one point, she dropped the keys and they became stained red.

When Bluebeard returned, he asked for the keys and became enraged when he saw the blood. He knew she had disobeyed his orders and had entered the room. Bluebeard became violent and threatened to kill her. As he dragged her to meet a similar fate as her predecessors, her brothers showed up in the nick of time and killed Bluebeard. The wife buried Bluebeard’s former wives’ remains and inherited his fortune along with the château.  Read More The Parisian Bluebeard is Guillotined