On my second day in Paris, I felt all kinds of conflicted. En serio. (I like the Spanish translation of "for real"). I think it's one of the signature aspects of the human condition, we being bodies and spirit, creatures of sensation and reflection. I mean, every time you roll in your gas guzzler rather than walk or bike, every time you make some consumption choice that has zero-sum implications, heck every time you have that eat way more of pint of ice cream in one sitting (and some of y'all eat the whole pint) in the beginning, middle and/or end of the experience you might very well be like, should be glad or mad.
So, this is how I felt about the Chateau de Versailles, which was first built in 1623 but came into its current form in the late 17th C upon the direction of Louis XIV. It is was to showcase "all the glories of France." It's massive. It's grand. And, my senses tell me that it is quite glorious indeed. The wall sized paintings, ornate interior decoration (dang, antique rugs as "wallpaper"?), and gold everywhere puts Jay's "all black everything" in perspective. The Hall of Mirrors is breathtaking. Ditto the "gardens."**
But, as I thought about how grand this all is, I couldn't help but think, also, about the backstory, the inevitable cost. Let's be real, and think back to the conditions that make settled, complex societies possible. The existence of a Versailles is nothing if not the definition of surplus, Pluto*** if subsistence characterizes most societies of plant Earth.
And, yet in Versailles a candid acknowledgment of the basis of its glories are the several rooms dedicated to depicting Frances's many battles (victorious) and the fallen heroes whose sacrifice, well, you know. Though he died after they were hung, the four largest paintings were commissioned by Napolean. Did all that war and conquest enrich the French state? Mainly. Did it raise the sea level of prosperity for the common Frenchman or Frenchwoman? Maybe? And what of the vanquished? If that be another European or major state, don't cry for me Argentina.
But if the vanquished were the equivalent of the schoolyard bully's violence, that is, the enslaved, the colonized and so on, then what? And being in the skin I'm in, how should I really feel about this whole thing? Reminds me of a famous black figure, I can't remember who, maybe Malcolm or JB, who said his world changed when he realized that in the real world he and his people were the Indians he was rooting against in the Hollywood westerns.
And something not quite a sidenote, as America is just like France back then, we with our super subsidized gas and have it exactly your way every day Starbucks lattes have to be honest about the ramifications of an American retreat from, to put it gently, being active (or most euphemistically, energetic) on the world stage.
But again, my senses shouted, Wow!
***
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* Something earlier shoulda been footnoted instead of included in the main body. I forget.
**This summer I planned to work on my "garden." Hmm, I feel like language constable is about to knock on my door and say, "Yer garden? This world ain't big enough for Versailles and your backyard to both be called gardens." Sigh.
*** Or Jupiter if you want to take 1) the grandeur literally and 2) account for Pluto's dethronement as a planet, the end of the ancien regime you might say.
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