Paris is not burning

The thing about Paris is that it isn't supposed to change. And, in most neighborhoods, nothing does 

 

really change. The picturesque Place de la Contrescarpe, a piece of jewelry shining in the distance as I approached it by foot coming from the Jardin des Plantes, looks so quaint and pristine, perhaps a little too quaint and a little too pristine. But that's the point isn't it? Make a place look historically timeless by painting its buildings white and closing it down to traffic, or, as in the case of this square (or circle), making it difficult for cars to drive through it. 

Here, in an older photograph from a blog about Hemingway, is a photograph of the same square (from the 1920s I assume). Not quite as quaint, not at all pristine. 

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Another thing about Paris is that it considers itself the center of the world, as the mail slots at the local post office can attest. You put your mail either in the "Paris and suburbs" slot or... the other slot, which is for mail going to the provinces and the rest of the world. Nice alignment.  

One thing for which I am grateful in its timelessness is the abundance of really good bookstores, from tiny neighborhood ones that carry the latest prize winners alongside the classics and some more obscure titles that might escape one's attention, to the bigger ones like the Librairie Pedone, around since 1838,  which specializes in law books as it is located near the law faculty. But its window was so delightfully done up for the holidays, it attracted my gaze on that same walk through the 5th back to the 6th where I was staying this time around.

Bookstore Pedone on the rue Soufflot

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The meanderings of night time included this church just outside the Italian Cultural Center, again in the 5th. I love the reflection of the woman standing inside the Cultural Center (where I attended a baroque concert) overlapping with the leaning bicycle.   

Eglise Saint-Séverin

I also attended a concert by the French group Moriarty, which specializes in vintage sounds --American bluegrass, folk, country western performed by French musicians headed by a vintage wearing and sounding Franco-American singer by the name of Rosemary Standley. 

They played their music to the projected images of Robert Doisneau, known for his window reflections, taken from inside and outside various shops,  and photographs of France and its countryside that also project a timelessness.

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My wanderings always include, of course, visits to consignment shops. Good old reliable Cherche Minippes on the rue du Cherche Midi in the 6th still has a good selection of middle to expensive brand clothing. 

I also encountered yet another Kilo Shop on the Grands Boulevards (Boulevard Montmartre) where its wooden floor was the most beautiful of its timeless contents.