Spectacular Sights: The Promenades of Seventeenth-Century Paris

Spectacular Sights: The Promenades of Seventeenth-Century Paris Elizabeth Kugler ANTOINE FURETIÈRE, in his Dictionnaire universel of 1690, defines the word spectacle as "[un] Accident extraordinaire qui estonne, que l'on considere avec quelque esmotion." He goes on to describe a battlefield as "un tragique spectacle," and an inferno in a city as "un triste spectacle." In the plural, however, the word spectacle invokes not gruesome deaths or charred cityscapes but graceful dances and lighthearted plays: "Des spectacles," continues Furetière, are "des divertissements & des representations qu'on donne au public, comme les Opera, les Comedies, Ballets, & tout ce qui se voit sur les Theatres, ou Amphitheatres." Bridging these extremes of destruction and entertainment, the word spectacle, like its Latin root spectare (to look at, watch, view), has at its essence the act of looking and seeing. These two activities acquired a special significance in seventeenthcentury Paris as the city and the society became increasingly committed to and defined by spectacular displays. Architecturally, the French capital quickly, almost miraculously, metamorphosed in the early seventeenth century, from a devastated site of civil war and siege to a majestic capital city. As one of Pierre Corneille's characters exclaimed: Toute une ville entière avec pompe bâtie Semble d'un vieux fossé par miracle sortie Et nous fait présumer, à ses superbes toits, Que tous nos habitants sont des Dieux ou des Rois.' The creation of monumental town squares, tree-lined carriage paths (cours), and magnificent vistas not only embellished Paris but also opened the space of the city, introduced panoramic views, and created new perspectives, both literal and figurative. Parisians began to see their city differently, to regard it as a thing of beauty, a cause for celebration, and a source of pride. In 1652, English visitor John Evelyn remarked upon these changes in the mentality and the topography of the French capital: I finde no end of their erecting not onely of particular houses, but even of whole streets, and those so incomparably fair and uniform, that you would imagine your self rather in some Italian Opera, 38 Fall 1999 KUGLER where the diversity of the Scenes surprise the beholder, than beleeve your self to be in a reall Citie.2 Evelyn's reaction was shared by many visitors, writers, and artists, who were similarly awed by Paris's spectacular appearance and swept up in this urban fantasy.3 During the seventeenth century, Parisians came to realize that not only the city's physical attributes but also its inhabitants were worthy of attention and admiration. Just as the geographical and architectural features of the capital were recast in the public imagination as a stage for spectacles, so the citizens of Paris re-scripted their own roles, adding elements of fantasy and endeavoring to resemble "des Dieux et des Rois." They searched for new ways to participate in the urban splendor and new venues in which to show themselves. No places were better suited for staging—and observing—their lavish displays than the majestic gardens, parks, and promenades that proliferated in seventeenth-century Paris. With the advent of the carriage, a fad that was imported from Italy during the reign of Louis XIII, walking in the streets became increasingly abhorrent to upper-class Parisians, while at the same time there was an explosion of new walking spaces in Paris that were architecturally defined and symmetrically laid out, with calculated views, ordered routes, and well-behaved shrubbery. The Tuileries garden, the Cours-la-Reine, the Luxembourg garden, the Foire Saint-Germain, the Jardin des Plantes, and the Place Royale—these were just a few of the new or refurbished sites where Parisians could go to display themselves against regal backdrops. With a growing sense of theatricality, they flocked to the allées in sumptuous attire and paraded through the cours in gilded carriages drawn by horses adorned with embroidered silk blankets. It was reported that the Marquis de Rouillac went so far as to bring several different costumes when he went to the Cours-la-Reine. While at the promenade , he would close the curtains of his carriage and change from one dazzling outfit to another. His momentary disappearance was likened to...