Le Lido
February 14th, 2008
8th arr., 116 bis avenue des Champs-Elysées
At the Lido, past and present shows are one and the same thing, which is to say they are always marvelous, impeccable, diabolically controlled, lavishly tricky and artificially dazzling. Who cares if there are busloads of Japanese tourists, soccer team members and auto dealers in the room? After all, it is dimly lit. Besides, there are also bare-breasted girls appearing out of the ceiling, helicopters battling one another among the stars, typhoons devastating the stage in a stream of foam, stage areas vanishing underground, and dolphins cavorting in a pool. Sets are forever going up and down, turning around, and vanishing in the most elaborate mechanized stage in the world. Then why is it that some people are bored by it all? Because many of these sets are so overdone and infinitely cretinous that many spectators grow instantly tired of seeing them. Thank heaven there are a lot of absolutely perfect traditional nimbers performed by jugglers, illusionists, contortionists and acrobats. Only the Lido can offer you that.
Jardin des Plantes
February 11th, 2008
5th arr.
The Sun King’s once-glorious botanical gardens, with their 10000 specimens and association with the flower of French Science (Buffon, Lamarck, Lavoisier), were allowed to deteriorate so badly that many of the buildings had to be razed. However, thanks largely to the efforts of crusading journalists, the tide has turned. Parisians have again begun to show up en masse along the charming labyrinth’s shaded walks, inspecting the rare species of trees, the sea lion’s pool, and the grounds where children used to play and chess tournaments were held; the Jardin d’Hiver (winter garden) filled with the fragrance of countless plants from cold climates, and, last but not least, the huge greenhouse with its dizzying jungle of plants and rows of cacti. Today herbal botanists are again working enthusiastically over the seasonal beds of plants, and the public marvels as the entirely mauve-colored Judas tree, the aromas of the botanical garden and the huge Lebanese cedar brought back by Jussieu and considered, by Bouvard and Pécuchet (two characters from a Flaubert novel) to be nature’s tree of knowledge. Considerable (though insufficient) fubds are currently being spent to renovate both the greenhouse and the museums of mineralogy and paleontology. A vast zoological museum, to house one of the world’s older and more complete collections of stuffed specimens, is scheduled for construction in the near future.









































