Paris Project: C'est ici l'empire de la mort.

Among Paris’ more enjoyable characteristics are the layers and layers of history that surround you wherever you go; Parisians are quite content to live, work, play, and worship on top of and around the same shops, churches and streets that their predecessors have for over two millennia. This also means that they live out their quotidian lives alongside the remains of former Parisians, who rest in peace anywhere and everywhere in the City of Lights. Some are remembered in pomp and glory in the Pantheon or at Les Invalides. For others, small plaques on the walls of schools exhort passersby to "N'oubliez pas" (Do not forget).



This project may sound ghoulish and hopelessly morbid; it isn't. Paris is more than Gothic churches, Renaissance hôtels, and Haussmann-style façades. Paris is a city of millions of flesh and blood living their lives, some in renown and grandeur and others in anonymous poverty. Just as visiting museums, castles, and churches can connect you with the past, so can finding and visiting the dead connect you with the very real people who made that past.

Almost anywhere you go in Paris, the Parisians of years gone by are not far away. In any of the countless Catholic churches in the city, you will find yourself surrounded not only by tourists and worshippers, but also by the dearly departed. As you perambulate the nave you will see the final resting places of an aristocrat, a philosopher, an archbishop or two, and maybe even a war hero or politician. For example Jean-Baptiste Colbert, Louis XIV’s brilliant finance minister, is interred at l’Église Saint-Eustache.



Other alcoves feature relics of saints, sometimes dust or a piece of clothing, sometimes an entire bone. These relics are housed in beautiful reliquaries of gold and glass, and invite the prayers of the faithful who come to seek special blessings.
The Incorruptibles are a special category of saintly relics. They are discovered when the remains of saints are exhumed for one reason or another, and if they meet certain criteria the Vatican will declare them Incorruptible. An Incorruptible cannot have been embalmed, and they usually give off an Odor of Sanctity. Sometimes part of the body will decay normally, while other parts (such as the heart or bones) remain intact. The reasoning behind this phenomenon, according to the Catholic Church, is that these saints lived lives so holy that their sanctity permeated their flesh and prevented their bodies from decaying after death.

Two of these saints lie in glass coffins on either side of the altar at La Chapelle Notre Dame la Médaille Miraculeuse. On the left is Sainte Louise de Marillac, who died in 1660. During her life she was a devout follower of Saint Vincent de Paul and founded the order of des Filles de la Charité (Daughters of Charity). On the right is Sainte Catherine Labouré, who died in 1876; it was she who made this chapel so special. She was very devout from a young age, and joined les Filles de la Charité. In 1830 was visited by the Virgin Mary herself in the chapel. Now she lies in a glass coffin beside a reliquary containing the heart of Saint Vincent de Paul, whose example of charity she followed all her life.

Saint Vincent de Paul himself, who died in 1660, was also found to be Incorruptible; his remains lie above the altar in the stunning Chapelle des Lazaristes. His calm and peaceful visage is actually wax covering his incorruptible bones. He spent his life educating and helping the poor, working with Sainte Louise de Marillac to create several charitable orders and organizations. The Chapelle des Lazaristes was empty when we visited, except of course for Saint Vincent. This chapel was built in 1830 specifically to house his remains. I was struck by the more human scale of the columns and arches, in contrast to the lofty pointed arches of Chartres or Notre Dame de Paris; it seemed appropriate to his mission of charity.



In these chapels, the dead are an active part of worship. Sainte Louise and Sainte Catherine are always surrounded by pilgrims seeking special blessings of healing, help, and forgiveness. I went to the chapel twice, and each time it was full of nuns and worshippers, a welcome change from the usual tourist population of many of the churches I've been to here. Even though these saints have been dead for over a century, they remain a part of people's lives today.



Père Lachaise is perhaps one of the world’s most famous cemeteries. It is a small city in and of itself, with its own system of streets and avenues. Here the dead of remembered with varying states of grandeur. Many are interred in family tombs like small houses with the family name written above the door.



Great artists, writers, musicians, and thinkers are among those interred at Père Lachaise. Some of their tombs are quite elaborate, like that of the Romantic painter Gericault. Bas-relief versions of his most famous painting, Raft of the Medusa, adorn the sides of his sarcophagus.



Some of these tombs are quite ordinary except for the copious offerings and tokens of affection left by adoring fans and disciples; the graves of Jim Morrison and Fréderic Chopin grave are notable examples.





Oscar Wilde’s grave marker is covered in lipstick, despite the sign that asks (in two languages) “Respect the memory of Oscar Wilde and do not deface this tomb. It is protected as an historic monument and was restored in 1992”.
It takes more than a polite request to stop these kissing fans.



Père Lachaise is made up of curving streets and tall trees that make it difficult to take in the full scale of the cemetery. Inside the crematorium, however, beneath its slightly disturbing chimneys, you can see row after row after column after column of small square plaques bearing the name and epitaph of the departed.



Behind each plaque is an urn containing their ashes. Here a single glance can take in hundreds of final resting places; most are remembered by loved ones who leave flowers in the vases attached to the markers.



Not all of Paris’ dead are remembered by name; indeed, they seem to be the exception rather than the rule. A surprising number of tombs and grave markers in Père Lachaise have crumbled and decayed so much that there is no hope of reading the name of the deceased.





Beneath the city are literally millions of dead Parisians in anonymous graves. Under the July Column at Place Bastille, for example, lie 500 unnamed revolutionaries who died in one of Paris’ many bloody political conflicts. Underneath Av du Général Leclerc, in what used to be a quarry, the remains of 6 million Parisians are interred. The Catacombes of Paris were created starting in 1786, when the city’s cemeteries were full to overflowing; disease was rampant, threatening anyone who lived near the graveyards. It was decided to remove the remains of the worst cemeteries to the converted quarry underneath the city, where the dead could rest in peace without being a hazard to the living.

The project took several years to complete, from 1786 to 1814. As the new gravesites were completed, monks would take black-draped cart loads from cemeteries down into the catacombs by night, singing requiems in tiny underground chapels and carefully arranging the bones around plaques marking the original resting places of the dead. During the Terror Madame de Guillotine’s victims were placed in the catacombs, including Robespierre himself.



As you enter the catacombs an inscription over the door commands to “Arrêt! C’est ici l’empire de la mort” (Stop! This is the empire of death); that hasn’t stopped many people though (myself included), and those interred there are hardly allowed to rest in peace. A visit down below (far more than six feet under; more like twenty meters in fact) is a thought-provoking encounter with the past. As we walked through the passages water dripped around us (and on us), combining with the dim light to create an atmosphere of mystery and discovery.





Many of the columns bear the thoughts of authors and philosophers about death and human mortality. An anonymous author counsels “Happy is he who has always before his eyes the hour of his death, and who is everyday ready to die”. One Hervey is quoted thus: “Come people of the world, come to this permanent silence and your soul now tranquil will be struck by the voice that rises from their interior: ‘It is here that the greatest of masters, the Tomb, holds his school of truth’”.



The bones of Paris’ dead are carefully arranged, some in patterns and shapes, others simply in neat stacks. Perhaps in becoming a work of art they retain some dignity and recognition, despite their anonymity and the many disturbances to their rest. Signs record the cemeteries from which they came, but there is no way of knowing who they are, or when they lived or died. Each skull and every femur represent a life, a story, that is lost to us today. As I walked past thousands of bones, I wondered about every one. Who was this person? How did they live? How did they die? Who loved them? What did these now empty skulls see, hear, and think?







At the end of the Catacombs, this quote from Le Franc de Pompignan offers a ray of light after a lengthy sojourn in the underground darkness of “l’empire de la mort”. He said:

“Listen dry bones.
Listen to the voice of the Savior.
The powerful God of our ancestors,
Who from a breath created life,
Will rejoin your separated joints.
You will take anew your bodies,
Skin will cover them.
Dry bones, you will live again”.






Sources:

http://nominis.cef.fr/

http://catholic-saints.suite101.com/article.cfm/incorruptible_saints_are_miracles_from_heaven

http://www.chapellenotredamedelamedaillemiraculeuse.com/FR/a__Accueil.asp

http://catholique-paris.cef.fr/658-Chapelle-des-Lazaristes.html

“Walking Through Paris’ History”, Marc Olivier et al.

“Les Catacombes de Paris”, brochure published by Musées de la ville de Paris

Photos and video by yours truly