Truth

Through analyzing certain aspects of Paris I have come to understand something about what constitutes as truth. It is not something that is always readily seen. At times it is just behind the surface, positioned for the assumed truth to seem as if it is what is real. Truth is supposed to be seeked out, but sometimes it is as if it is hiding.  

Artificial nature is an oxymoron.

The first question that walking in this park brought up for me is ‘if writers use walking in natural places to stimulate their creative processes, then can the park’s artificiality affect the process in some way? The first response to this question is probably “of course not,” because everything pretty much looks real. Nothing is readily fake. You kind of have to know or be looking for it. Despite this, I still continue to entertain the idea of a man-made park could still have a different effect on the writing, especially if the writer is aware of the fact it is an imitation. I still wonder if knowingly wandering in an artificial setting for inspiration possibly leave one lacking. Surely something man-made can not offer the same amount and type of creativity that naturalness provides.

Maybe having lookalike nature in a city is not as awkward as it sounds. Parks of this variety that are constructed in the same vein as New York’s Central Park are a break from the “citiness” of an industrial area. They are manufactured and built to look like a forest or place of abundant green. Sometimes they even successfully accomplish the illusion if you are standing somewhere in it’s middle with the trees placed strategically around you to block the buildings, cars and machines from view. It is probably a little more fitting than what makes sense at first glance to have fake things in a park such as this one. It, a fake thing is attempting to achieve a likeness to something that is real. This park does that with fake things. Maybe it is not the most logical, thing to do, but it does make sense.

Even though it is something of a patch-work park made of many plants that would never see each other in their own parts of the world, it is beautiful. Down many levels in the bowl of the park where you can not see any buildings if you tried. The place where you can effectively imagine that you are actually in a place with this many trees and much more wild life around you. If it were not for the hundreds of the stairs I climbed to emerge from the subway of the city that the park allows you escape from, I would have gone down there, but as the scientific law goes, any hill you easily stroll down you must have a not-fun time coming back up.

One other benefit of the park was it’s elevation. For me, being up high is one of those things that you don’t know you miss until you are experiencing it again. I had not consciously noticed that Paris is a large amount of flat land. It felt good (familiar) to be able to look down on a city and see more than is possible when you are standing in it. Elevation is a piece of home I didn’t know that I would heed although I am not surprised by my appreciation of it.

Had it been a warmer day, or if I had worn my heavier jacket, I would have walked the highest point of the park with with the thing I do not know the name of, but it is circular platform with a roof that is reminiscent, (at least for me) of what a small orchestra or just musicians use a stage if they were to give a performance in a park. It was beautiful to see especially with the sky being so grey as a backdrop. The rocks that had so much on them lended to the sight as well. If nothing else, I would imagine that this sight could at least inspire the setting of a story for a writer walking in this park with the hopes of gaining ideas from the place. I believed that any of the special places in this park would be helpful. Artificial trees and all.

Hearing this place described with all the fake rocks, plants and waterfalls that it has sounds like a park of forgery, but the park hold it’s own kind of truth. There is nowhere in a developed city that is fully natural. This park is real for what it is. It is a reminder of what is natural in a place that is surrounded with man made things.   

The evasiveness of truth is of course also found in people. Maybe even especially so.

Henry James does a considerable amount of analyzing Parisians in his essay “Occasional Paris”. He raises so many questions about the people that it leads one to wonder if there is a mystery of Paris. Parisians seem to have a certain ambiguity about them that James at least believes to be a quality that may solely belong to them. For example, they are a people widely known for their intellectual heights, yet they do not seem to show it. Meaning that they do not dress in a way that demonstrates sophistication by English standards. Their style of clothing- described as “bohemian” is not what Englishmen of this time, such as James recognized as an indication of cleverness. He nevertheless experiences a level of academia from Parisians as a whole that he finds impressive.

The puzzlement that is the Parisian continues in their choice of character to support in a play that is made up of disreputable people. In Demi-Monde is the struggle of a woman called Suzanne d’Ange who is “guilty of what the French call faults.” To combat the poor reputation she has inevitably made for herself by being such a woman d’Ange she must marry an upstanding man. Her only hopes for a better life in the unforgiving and sexist 19th century of France. She eventually gains the love of such a man, one Nanjac, only for the jealousy of a former lover, named de Jalin to undermine her progress with this decent gentleman who legitimately loves her. In the end de Jalin lies and to Nanjac about d’Ange. She has no choice, but to reveal herself to Nanjac who consequently leaves her. de Jalin wins and James points out that an American audience’s sympathies would lie with Ms. Suzanne. That an American audience is “more moral” than a French audience, implying that the French would be pleased by de Jalin’s victory. This would place them in direct oppositions to Americans who James predicts would see him as a “coward” who should “let the poor girl alone.”

This gives the French an interesting complexity. They are both smarter and more accepting of what western audiences would deem unfair. They are unforgiving. Either this, or they do not accept what is put in front of them, able to avoid the obvious with the help of their percipient minds. They might be able to see the pain that fuels his decisions. He is a man who was involved with a woman that is now on the verge of marrying a dear friend. Either he believes that he is actually helping Nanjac, or he sees this an opportunity. Whether the French view the disrepair of a life is justified comeuppance or overstep of entitlement, their perspective on de Jarin may be deeper than what an American would credit them for at first glance.

The French’s blatant show of affection amongst each other is another sample of progressed intellect. Most people in America especially have a hard time showing affection for one another, even between family members. To be able to express fondness for a person without awkwardness or stiffness shows a level of maturity and confidence in oneself is an act that can only be done by a sensible person. While this is true, there is another reasoning for the reason of why French people kiss instead of hug. Kissing is intimate, but it lacks the warmth of a hug. A hug requires touch and extreme close quarters. Kissing needs almost no contact and is a shorter task. This reason is more in line with other French characteristics, like their aversion to smiling at people. It seems that actions such as these are too special to share with people that they do not know.

 It is very likely that if you inspect underneath your initial understanding of something that you will find yet another truth.