« Mon trajet est plutôt diurne et va d’Ivry à Saint-Denis, il suit à peu près la ligne de partage entre l’est et l’ouest parisiens ou, si l’on veut, le méridien de Paris. Cet itinéraire, je l’ai choisi sans réfléchir mais dans un deuxième temps il m’a sauté aux yeux que ce n’était pas un hasard, que ce tracé suivait les méandres d’une existence commencée près du jardin du Luxembourg, menée pendant longtemps face à l’Observatoire et poursuivie au moment où j’écris plus à l’est, à Belleville, mais avec de longues étapes entre-temps à Barbès et sur le versant nord de la butte Montmartre. Et de fait, sous l’effet de cet incomparable exercice mental qu’est la marche, des souvenirs sont remontés à la surface au fil des rues, jusqu’à des fragments de passé très lointains, à la frontière de l’oubli. »
E. H.
Une traversée de Paris du sud au nord, où se réveillent, au fil des pas, les souvenirs de l’auteur (l’enfance, la jeunesse, les études, les pratiques de la médecine, puis de l’édition) et ceux de la ville dans son entassement d’époques et d’événements.
Eric Hazan is a writer, historian and founder of the independent publishing house La Fabrique. His most recent books in English include The Invention of Paris (2012) and A People's History of the French Revolution (2014).
“I do not know of any other capital city where the transition from inside to outside is as marked as it is in Paris. In London, Tokyo or Berlin-not to speak of Cairo or Mexico City- it is none too clear where the boundary falls, and the very distinction between the city and its surroundings is vague.”
Initially I couldn’t quite click with this book and found the prose a little cold, detached and rambling. I realise that’s partly due to my ignorance of Parisian street knowledge, but I soon got to grips with it and found that it really got quite interesting the longer it went on.
Part psycho-geography, part history and part biography this account is soaked in nostalgia and contemplation, there are many familiar figures mentioned or alluded to, particularly from the literary world, with particular emphasis on the likes of Balzac, Proust and Zola, but he also gives mention to other non-French writers, who loved the city and spent time there like Hemingway and Fitzgerald.
As he winds his way through the arcades, avenues and boulevards of the famed city it soon becomes apparent that there is a lot of focus on class, and in particular the divisions, snobbery and tensions that can arise with gentrification and when poor rub up against the wealthy. Though when talking about La Chapelle he describes its embourgeoisement rather than gentrification. This is also a story of revolutions, wars and politics, culture, money and architecture and how they all come together, often clashing and how they have impacted and continue to influence the streets of Paris today.
Without doubt this is a book aimed at Francophiles and those with at least a basic knowledge of the streets and places mentioned. There is reference to many of the world renowned landmarks and spaces like the Centre Pompidou, Garde du Nord and the Latin Quarter. There are some interesting and thoughtful photographs throughout the book, that give the text a fuller feel, the hand drawn maps are more functional than aesthetic, which is fair enough.
Like Orhan Pamuk’s recollections in “Istanbul”, Hazan has spent all his life living in Paris and so is more than well qualified to comment on the massive changes he has seen in more than eighty years living there. There are also plenty of parallels to draw with the work of Iain Sinclair in London.
With this being concerned with the geography and architecture of Paris, the spectre of Haussmann looms large. We see how his single minded vision shaped and changed the spaces and places of Paris and who ultimately benefited and who suffered. Gehry, Rogers and Piano are also talked about, though not always in glowing terms.
Overall this was an interesting read. I found it a little slow at the start, but when if found its stride it was a really rewarding read. I learned some interesting things and it did arouse my curiosity, to investigate further.
One of my favorite cities is Paris, and I think Eric Hazan's book "A Walk Through Paris" (boy, is that an accurate title for this volume) expresses what's fascinating about the city. Every step deals with history but also it's current situation in the 21st century. A fascinating book on the subject matter.
When I happened upon this little tome in a bookshop whilst visiting a town in North Yorkshire, I just could not let it remain there unread. It came home with me and I am very glad that it did. The walking tour described begins at a bookshop - a most suitable place to start in my opinion - and the author charts his trail across the city from south to north. As Hazan meanders through the city he lets you into little pieces of history about his surroundings. He makes comments on the buildings, the architecture and, in some instances, even provides you with a potted history relating to how and why a specific building is there. His wit shines through in his anecdotes and asides as he guides you across the city, and that's not always in a straight line either. There are plenty of little detours and side streets to explore. City guides and green guides are all well and good and very informative, but they only ever take you to where every other tourist goes. This book takes you to the Parisians' city, to the places that only someone who has spent a lifetime in Paris would know. A brilliant little book and it will be coming with me when I next visit the city.
Ako knjiga u naslovu ima hodanje, hod ili neku aluziju na hodače, neće izbjeći moju pomamu pa sam tako i ovu knjigu odabrala ne znajući ništa o autoru, ali zainteresirana opisom na Goodreads. Autor prepričava dulju šetnju ili hod kroz Pariz, s naglascima na arhitektonska obilježja prostora kojima prolazi, na promjene koje grad i njegovi dijelovi doživljavaju tijekom vremena, na gentrifikacijske procese u pojedinim kvartovima kojima svakodnevno svjedoči, na različita naslijeđa različitih revolucija i uličnih pobuna (s naglašenom simpatijom za radničke pobune i za potlačene, dakle iz blago lijeve perspektive) te na književne tragove nekoliko odabranih francuskih (tj. pariških) autora. S obzirom da je dvadesetak godina radio kao kirurg u pariškim bolnicama, neke se reminiscencije tiču i razvoja bolničkih praksi odnosno pariških bolnica. Uz pomoć Google Earth i mašte, donekle se može pratiti njegova šetnja, a ostalo je prepušteno dobrohotnosti i volji čitateljice. Jedan kuriozitet: usprkos prividu obaviještenosti i tome što svakih nekoliko stranica ima potrebu naglasiti svoje ljevičarsko opredjeljenje, Hazan u vrlo usputnoj primjedbi Dražu Mihajlovića naziva „vođom srpskog otpora i Titovim suparnikom“ (When I was a student, the Saint-Séverin quarter was deserted in the evenings, and there were only two places open to eat, one on the Rue de la Huchette, which I believe was called Chez Papille, and the other on the Rue des Prétres-Saint-Séverin, run by Yugoslavs and decorated with large photos of Mihailovic, head of the Serbian resistance and Tito’s rival.).
Somewhere in the early 1980s it became relatively common in academic circles to see the city as a palimpsest, where traces of its past peeked through the gaps left by its not entirely successful erasure as new city forms emerged. Living a settler colonial world at the time, I found this an intriguing concept but not really one I could relate to – my house, for instance, considered ‘old’ was barely 100 years old, and my ‘old’ central city neighbourhood not much older than that, even though I was acutely aware of the Indigenous pasts marked by streets and paths, promontories and parks. Yet, as I discovered, in ‘Old World’ cities the ‘metaphor’ of the palimpsest was much more than a metaphor, but a physical obviousness: in Gloucester (near where I live) the Roman town, the medieval settlement, the Tudor city with its Georgian and Victorian industrial growth is plainly obvious in the structure of town, in its built environment of streets and public buildings and its archaeological residues, of mainly religious sites.
As I have visited more ‘Old World’ cities, as I have walked parts of them, the palimpsest motif has become more potent in the built environment – yet what I tend not to see is the social and cultural residues, unless it is a city (such as Amsterdam or Prague) where I have spent a fair amount of time and have acquired historical and cultural learning – this tends to be knowledge that can only accrue over time and with experience. This makes Eric Hazan’s walk across Paris all the more valuable and all the more welcome – and I suspect it helps if you know the localities. The walk is a crescent shaped meander from Porte d’Ivry in the South East to Porte de la Chapelle in the North East via Les Halles, with meander making clear he takes detours, both physical and metaphysical, with each tangent sparked by a phenomenon in his main trajectory.
His musings and reflections inspired by the places he takes us are in part architectural, in part social, in part historical and in part biographical, to the street corner where he and his gang hung out in their youth, to sites of historical significance, to spatial resonances to more. For instance, his discussion of the square in Les Halles, a product of Haussmannite redevelopments, leads his to consider the meaning of ‘the square’ drawing comparison not with planned environments such as the tourist delight of Place des Vosges but the urban mess that is Place de la République – as a square without sides. That is to say, although I doubt he’d see it as this, the walk takes us on a kind of psycho-geographic visit to part of Paris… although that too is only part of the story.
Along the way Hazan stops in places both expected and unexpected. For instance, once he gets north of Gare du Nord and into La Chapelle, he stops off around La Goutte-d’Or – now a place of no particular note – riffing off Emile Zola’s L’Assommoir and Gérard de Nerval’s October Nights unpacking the way during the 20th century the city has been recast with new cultures and new political economies. Yet even with these unexpected sites I am also drawn to parts of the city I have most hung out in (from the 5e across the river, through Beauborg and into the 10e) to look again at those places through new, socially, culturally, historically aware eyes in an effort to find those traces I have not only not seen, but didn’t know to look for.
It is books such as these that remind me of the essential truth of Italo Calvino’s wonderful Invisible Cities where Marco Polo recounts to Genghis Khan all the cities he has visited in his travels, only for us to slowly become aware that it is the same city see in multiple ways…. It helps if you know Paris, but if the parts of the city he discusses that I don’t know are much to go by, Hazan’s poetics make that knowledge not that important.
A glorious delight –perhaps made more so by the limitations of pandemic-related non-travel.
Un petit livre sympa qui est bien pour redécouvrir Paris si vous connaissez déjà la ville. Pour les touristes ou ceux qui ne vivent pas à Paris, j'ai trouvé ça un peut moins intéressant, car il me manquait le contexte pour comprendre et apprécier les petites histoires.
I like radical guide books, but I do not like this book one bit. The walk through Paris does not even include a map. Hazan will make reference to some object without describing it. Then he lists some disjointed historical anecdotes, combines them personal reminiscences, and finally goes off on unrelated tangents. Here is my Hazan impression:
"As I cross the street, I see a wall, built by Haussmann's successor. Around the corner was the hotel where Blanqui's brother stayed in 1842. When I was in medical school, an old Algerian man used to run a pharmacy here — or was it one block down? But Paris's most famous pharmacy was located in the 14th Arrondissement, where the cousin of Bensaid used to hang out."
It's 200 pages of this. Maybe I am too uneducated to appreciate the poetry, or I just don't love Paris enough. In any case, I am giving up after two chapters. I tried to keep going but I kept falling asleep. I also did not like Hazan's misnamed People's History of the French Revolution. I saw this book got great reviews from across the political spectrum, but I appear to be immune to whatever charms it has.
Hazan presupposes a lot of knowledge of French history, literature, and locations, and then spends a great deal of time naming things and quoting from his favorite books, but never actually described much of anything in a way that seemed vivid or made me feel like I was there. I appreciate the idea of a journey through Paris with a leftist slant, and maybe if Hazan were actually taking you around and showing you places and putting them into context, this would be informative, but as a book it did not work for me.
Have you ever wanted to stroll through the streets of Paris with a retired Communist surgeon ready to share his encyclopedic knowledge of the city he loves? Eric Hazan is ready to show you his Paris on his terms.
When I was fortunate enough to live in Paris for a semester in 2016, I walked everywhere. I made a point never to take the same journey twice, which proved as easy as it was rewarding. I found myself wishing I had a guide like Hazan to share with me (in a classically Parisian, curmudgeonly voice) all the hidden stories that surrounded me at every turn. There is no greater city on Earth in which to be a pedestrian.
Hazan loves his city and is rightly proud of its history of revolution and resistance. The push and pull of revolt and reaction shaped the physical city of Paris probably more than any other on Earth. Hazan charts a path from South to North that showcases the scars and monuments of this history, both visible and invisible to the contemporary viewer. Interspersed are personal anecdotes about Hazan’s own life and notes about Paris from writers like Balzac and Beaudelaire.
Hazan, being Parisian, is not interested in holding your hand. There is little context to his cultural and geographic references. You are invited to keep up. I wouldn’t recommend this book to casual Luteciophiles (to coin a word?) but if you have a great love of crusty old Parisians and walking, this is a truly excellent read.
A sort of Parisian response, I suppose, to urban-wanderer writers like Iain Sinclair or Alfred Kazin, with deep dives into personal history, left-wing politics, and the sheer joys of feeling the city. I loved it, because things like this really are my bread and butter. In fact, in some respects it hit me more than Sinclair, because while Sinclair is a better crafter of prose, I know Paris as a city better than London, both in terms of experience and knowledge, but I know that's a personal bias. And I liked it more than Perec's Attempt at Exhausting a Place in Paris, which is more Zen-like, more of a vaguely John Cage take on the city (so many bus numbers…). I know it's not for everyone, but this is a great Sunday afternoon read.
Paris nerd that I am, I loved this, because it was a walk across the city through areas I don't know, or at least don't know the history that the author knows. Fascinating and fun!
P.S. However, it was hard work for my brain to process, so I fell asleep reading it more than once!
Hazan's tour blends several histories - the city, poltics and his personal story - with social commentary. Even in his criticisms, his love for his home is evident.
Almost *too* detailed and a bit scattered at times - I try to follow books like this on Google Maps and this was a tough one to keep up with - but vivid and enjoyable.
Definitely not what I expected. The adage "show not tell" came to mind. The parts that were interesting were not the descriptions of every building he came across, but rather, the history of what had happened in the places he described. Definitely have a map of Paris next to you when you read this book.
Nice history of Paris from a radical perspective. A lot of interesting snippets of information, nice photos. But you really need to be familiar with Paris street names. It would be great if it had details maps at the beginning of the chapter, highlighting the route taken. This would make it easier to read and be 4*.
"Here [in la Goutte d'Or] this process is still in its beginnings. The context has not changed, just the population. Alongside the Chinese, Arabs, and poor people from all origins who still populated this quarter ten years ago, young white people have now moved in- not that well off, but as sophisticated as in Belleville or Aligre, with their dress codes, pushchairs, trainers, hairstyles and iPads. We know the rest from having seen it appear and spread in Bastille, Oberkampf, Gambetta, Rue Montorgeuil, along the Canal Saint-Martin. Cafes proliferate, become restaurants, and on sunny days their terraces spread together in a seamless tablecloth, hosting young people so uniform that they might be cloned. Organic groceries are opened, delicatessens, Japanese restaurants. Then the old shops, shoe repairers, stationers or Arab patisseries, lower their shutters, and when these reopen, they are transformed into art galleries. Behind the works exhibited, files are stacked on shelves and young people tap on their computers. No one enters or leaves, no one stops to look, it's a sign of the death throes of a working-class neighborhood.
As a petit-bourgeois who has lived for over thirty years in quarters that have been gentrified one after the other, I can appreciate the contradiction in describing critically a phenomenon that, whether I willed it or not, I ended up being involved in. You would have to move periodically, or settle a long way out, to avoid this threat for good and all." -Eric Hazan, "A Walk Through Paris"
***
"A Walk Through Paris" is an exploratory, oft-cynical rumination of a book, which relies on the assumption that you, the reader, are already quite familiar with the city. If not, you will probably be lost, or even,perhaps, disinterested. Hazan walks us through lesser-known parts of the city (more photos or maps would be helpful) while offering bits of personal experience and sociological examination along the way.
As a lifelong Parisian, Hazan, now in his eighties, has the unique perspective of having witnessed the influx and exodus of social and racial groups across the various quartiers and the ebbs and flows of gentrification. This perspective is a welcome addition to the current crop of books published today about Paris, largely a homogeneous swath of self-congratulatory books written by the gentrifiers themselves. These books boast about the improvement of once-"gritty" neighborhoods, without mentioning the other side of the coin- the displacement of the "gritty," primarily non-white working-class who are being pushed to farther-flung areas outside the city. But who can be bothered when there's so much cold-brew coffee to drink and avocado toast to eat that you can hardly keep track of which city you're in anymore?
Hazan doesn't offer solutions, but he does makes you think, which is more than can be said for most contemporary books about Paris.
A Walk Through Paris by Eric Hazan starts off a bit dry, and the book lacks serious maps (those included are hand drawn and like resemble something sketched out on a napkin). Images of the major crossings and architecture that Hazan mentions are few and far between. If you don’t have any visual reference for where Hazan is “walking,” then you will have no idea where he is talking about, and you’ll be on your phone or computer trying to find images to fill in the blanks. I have traveled back and forth from New York to Paris for twenty-six years, sometimes going there twice a year, sometimes spending months at a time there; even still, until Hazan mentioned a landmark in a chapter, I was a bit lost. However, I stuck with it and found within it a lot of worthy information, such as the origins of some street names that I had walked but never thought about, or important aspects of city planning on which I had never reflected. For example, the original plans for the Place Dauphine, the Place Royale (now Place des Vosges) and the Place de France were to be a triangle, a square, and a circle based on Henry IVs plans. The book is also something of a memoir, as the author often recounts memories of residing, working, and simply living on these streets that he follows throughout the book. He was a surgeon, so there is a lot on hospitals now demolished; he was also the son and heir to the Hazan publishing house, which produced many art books in the mid-twentieth century. The subtitle of the book is “A Radical Exploration,” which is in reference to the sections that discuss the role these streets played in many uprisings and revolutions in Paris, in particular those of 1832 and 1848. The uprising of May 1968 is also referenced, though briefly. There is a good section of the book about Les Halles, which led me to look up old images of the markets before their demolition. There are great references to literature that mentions or takes place on the streets that Hazan follows, such as those by Balzac, Gide, Nerval, and Zola, among others. Hazan discusses the social and racial make up of some of the quarters he walks through: in some cases it seems unnecessary, in others it explains the types of shops and restaurants in the quarter. Overall it is a good book on Paris. It might be better for some readers, if possible, to read it while in Paris, so that the streets can be experienced immediately, instead of having to look them up on Google street view. It’s best to stick with it. It gets better after chapter one.
This slim book feels like a few different, even shorter books flowing in and out of each other: an almost block-by-block architectural study and critique; a personal memoir, primarily of his days as a surgeon at various hospitals; and a revolutionary and literary history of Paris—that is, it's a lot like Éric Hazan's other books. I got lost often in his discussion of street routes and building types, but then perked up again by his placing in space a famous barricade from 1848 or a setting from one of Zola's novels—but that's just me. His descriptions of working-class areas in the present day are also valuable for their color, insight and historical connection.
This book is not for a Paris beginner; even those with an intermediate knowledge of the city's streetscapes and history might get confused. But that's ok—reading the book is like taking a walk through the city with an old and extremely knowledgable guide, rewarding even if you're not always sure where you are.
An odd book, though ultimately rather satisfying. It's a bit frustrating to not be able to see in one's mind's eye all the places he talks about, but as the book goes on, and especially at the end, his political and social leanings come to the fore and it becomes more interesting. Needless to say, I like his left-leaning comments.
Normally, I would have read the book in its original language, French, however I received the English translation as a gift and who am I to look a gift book in the face! The English translation is also a bit odd--sometimes you can hear the French come screaming through. But I got used to it after a while, and it even made me reflect on how hard it is to translate certain quintessentially French concepts into English.
Tam olarak ne olduğunu ifade edemediğim bir kitap. Ben tatilim öncesi biraz fazlaca bilgi edinmek istediğimden sadece adına bakıp aldım ancak bir travel guide da olmadığını biliyordum, o nedenle o kısım benim hatam. Kitap adı üzerinde, Paris'te bir geziye çıkarıyor bizi ancak bilgiler çok detaylı ve oldukça düzensiz, karışık ve kişisel bir şekilde sunuluyor. Şehre dair bilgisi olan insanlar için bile ne kadar anlam ifade edecektir emin değilim. Ayrıca bölümlerin başlarında bir harita olması daha iyi olurmuş, elimizde google mapsle mi okuyalım yani. Beklentimle örtüşmemesi dışında da ben çok beğendiğimi söyleyemeyeceğim ancak Paris'e basit bir ilginin ötesini duyanlar için daha faydalı olabilir.
A messy book from a mind unable to focus. It is a tourist book? Not really. A biography? Not really. A book on architecture? Not at all. Something. Vague personal memories and gossip, trivia and dubious facts blended in with geographic detail. Is it about Paris? Not really. It is more about Hazan trying to virtue signal something, but he got lost along the way while crafting the phrases, like the old senile who starts about something and in a few minutes you realize he has already changed the subject.
This is one of those books that you have to read more than once- and possibly read it on your journey around Paris. It's filled with many details, yet it is not a long book. There's so many gems in here and facts that you may take notice to and want to learn more about. I love books that offer gold nuggets. My favorite gold nugget, so to speak, was about the bookstores of Paris. Definitely will be revisiting this in the future.
This was really enjoyable holiday reading. It's not a travel guide - it's an account of a walk through Paris, but with radical history and Hazan's reflections on the architecture and general social situation intertwined. It's a little dry in style but he also has a dry sense of humour, and I find it quite endearing and amusing how much of a self-confessed curmudgeon he is.
This is a book about the social and artistic geography and history of Paris. While it is filled with interest, quirks and colour, it is not for the casual visitor. This is for someone already immersed in Paris and who would like to go deeper.
this has been on my bedside table for about six months but I really enjoyed dipping in and out of it, always here for flaneur writing and interwoven histories both grand and personal