We’re all entitled to our opinions and we strive to believe the opinions of others are as valid for that regard as our own. Voltaire inspires us to that standard. But there are times — and we are living in the midst of one of those epochs — when, in spite of Voltaire’s testament to tolerance of everyone’s right to express himself, that my opinion is that some opinions should be stifled at their expression.
Donald Trump is the leader of a portion of the population whose opinions need to be countered and extinguished. Yes, here on Daily Kos, examples of that Trumpian malignant anti-intellectualism have intruded.
The catastrophic fire that has consumed Notre-Dame de Paris cathedral that sat in proud beauty at the heart of Paris has elicited opinions of sorrow, incomprehension, and shock. Overwhelming expressions of sympathy for the people of Paris and France have been the norm today. In their bulk, Kossacks’ opinions were in solidarity with the loss of Paris’ most iconic symbol of inspiration.
But I am bound to report that at least one ugly worm wriggled its way into the heart of our site, supposedly a bastion of political opinion in line with its roots in the Age of Reason, which gave rise to the idea and reality of America. Some would argue that American democracy represents the height of civilized politics in our time. I would also argue that Notre-Dame represented the height of civilization in its time as well as down through time to the present day.
This stone, oak, and glass structure has been the point of origin for the most beautiful city in the world since the 12th Century. Today it has become little more than a fire pit, destined to be a pile of ash and ruin. Yet, for believing Christians and for life-long atheists like me, the promise of resurrection in the days and years to come beckon us all to urge and support its restoration, even knowing that some of the cathedral’s artifacts can not be brought back into existence.
To express the opinion that Notre-Dame was never more than the embodiment of Catholic oppression, the perpetuation of stultifying doctrine, and a basin of attraction for the delusional is an appalling expression of malicious ignorance. At least, in my opinion it is.
As an intellectual product of the 60s, I recommend to all Kossacks, a wonderful television documentary series on PBS, produced by the BBC, titled Civilisation: A Personal View by Kenneth Clark. You can own a “piece of civilization” on DVD for a reasonable sum of money.
In episode one, The Skin of Our Teeth, Clark stands in front of Notre Dame to question first, if civilization worth preserving, and secondly, what the difference between art and culture is.
Clark, the most renowned art historian of his time, perhaps persisting to today, says (I paraphrase from memory), “There is civilization.”
That is no overstatement. He is addressing the entire history of the structure. For instance, that it is founded on the spot directly over where revealed in the Crypt Archaeologique is two thousand years of Parisian history. History that is our history and the world’s.
In discovering the buildings which were built successively on the site, from Antiquity to the 20th century, the visitor goes back in time. The dockside of ancient Lutecia, the building of Gallo-Roman public baths, the early 4th century city wall, the basement of the former chapel of the Hôtel-Dieu, the medieval remains on the Rue Neuve Notre-Dame, the foundations of the Hospice des Enfants-Trouvés, traces of Haussmann sewers: the past, ancient, medieval and classical, comes back to life. Reviving the memory of one of the oldest districts of Paris, the Crypt shows how the city has continued to rebuild itself over more than two thousand years.
Down to the present. **Just learned that firefighters are seen walking on the upper structures of the cathedral. Announcer says twin towers have been saved. Bells are preserved.** Americans watching their televisions today can not help but remember the fires that brought down the Twin Towers in NYC. People in other countries probably reference more pertinent regional catastrophies — the Germans recall Dresden cathedral in WW II in contrast to the near total escape of Cologne Cathedral; the English remember their history when St. Paul’s was completely gutted in the Great Fire of London, 1666.
They don’t see and recollect the destruction of those edifices as only the loss of “a house of prayer.” They see them, correctly, as the loss of the culminations of artistic, architectural, and engineering prowess. They see them as the memorials to their ancestors’ skill, craft, and design. They are expressions of achievement, of inspiration, of solace to countless generations whether, French, German, or English, or not.
Without Notre Dame de Paris, there would have been no Victor Hugo The Hunchback of Notre Dame, no opportunity for him to understand the symbolism of it as the representation of the struggle in Les Miserables; there would have been no paintings of it by Matisse and other artists, too numerous to mention; memorable Disney animations such as Ratatouille would have no backdrop, not to mention films of Hugo novels; it is, with it’s partner the Eiffel Tower, the source of passion’s flame within romantic hearts.
About that latter comment, I testify with my very existence. I was conceived in Paris, and I’m sure owe my very being to the “blessings” of the one and the phallic influence of the other!
As I’m typing this, I am listening to President Macron remind the citizens of France of the very points I’ve made in my diary, the conversation of the talking heads turning from conflagration to imagination of restoration to come. What a relief to have confirmation that Notre Dame de Paris represents for them — and I presume, millions of unknown listening and watching — that the most viewed example of French Gothic architecture does not confirm facile opinions about Christian sins against humanity nor affirmations of man’s gullibility to gods.
Whether like the Phoenix or the Christ, I hope my grandsons live to see the rise of Notre Dame de Paris from the ashes again. Let it be for them, too, a symbol or inspiration, affirmation, and imagination of what can be achieved by human beings working together, striving to create some symbol of perfection in all things that give meaning and definition of our purpose on Earth — the aspiration to create the embodiment of our accumulated knowledge and dreams.