Le Tour Eiffel, Katherine Sanders

In Katherine Sanders, nonfiction on July 27, 2011 at 10:55 am

I’m thinking about you again and it’s raining. I hear the weather’s been way too hot in New York. I stayed at the bottom of the Eiffel Tower and thought about you. If you stand in the exact middle, where the tower’s point would be if it were on the ground, then you see only the inside architecture of the tower: the crisscross patchwork of brown metal supporting brown metal. But if you move away from the center in any direction, you see all the holes, all the spaces the upward-pointing architecture doesn’t cover. I was thinking about you, missing you like crazy, and thinking about how the very idea of not seeing you again makes me sad beyond words. And it all came flooding in diagonally, how last time I was here I glimpsed a demonstration outside the department of foreign affairs building, how when I go to plays here most if not all of the audience is white, even if the theater is located in a non-white neighborhood. How most people can’t afford to live in the center. And thinking about how this isn’t talked about. How strange it is to hear so much English on the streets and see so few books in stores written by non-French Francophone writers. And most especially the strangeness of a temporary structure for the World’s Fair become an international landmark and a symbol of French…what? I can’t stop thinking about your being sick. About how this temporary state of affairs—my not being there for you—may be permanent, if things take a turn for the worst.

  1. Did we meet one late morning of Saturday at the Gustave Moreau Museum, just before catching a train to London? I see the writing continues. Please post me. Glenn

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