Advent of Delights - week 1.

Those of you following me here have seen me publish a daily delight during this first week of Advent. I’ve been inspired by Ross Gay’s “The book of Delights”. You can learn more about him and his poetry here: ABOUT — ROSS GAY And to me it’s a delight to know that somewhere, on the other side of a big ocean this person simply exists and continuous to look for delights, and write about them with precise and joyous words.

Most of my delights are connected to a place. I wonder sometimes whether it’s the fact of changing countries (twice) when very young that calls me to pay particular attention  to my present surroundings?

 Whatever the reason, the fact remains that when I went through the delights collected in my notebook this week, I’ve noticed that a number of them were related to the Parisian subway. So I decided to devote this newsletter to this underground maze and its delights. After all, the latter can be found in the most unexpected places. This contradiction is, in fact, inherent to what constitutes a delight.

I hope that you’ll enjoy slowing down for a bit with me to gently turn in your fingers a fragile, glitter coloured bauble of underground joys.

Le kiosque des Noctambules de Jean- Michel Othoniel, inspired by the glass blowers in Murano.

The Parisian subway offers some beautiful Art Nouveau style entrances and some stunning, more contemporary ones, as you can see above. However, underground its network is mostly functional with long corridors, a relative cleanliness and an occasional rat.

 But the delights abound…

Reading on the subway.

Phineas Rueckert

from “Becoming French” has published photos of Parisians reading while waiting for a movie to start as well as on the subway train. I suppose that we do here have a tendency to often take out a book on a commute or on a train ride. Parisian metro isn’t particularly aesthetically pleasing (says this Moscow born writer who admittedly has high standards) and of course it can get very crowded. The delight I’m talking about is when your journey takes you to almost the end of the line and there are no more “important » stations left and you can find a seat and- even - put your bag on the seat next to you. The Sunday morning on the subway in particular has a special atmosphere. Closer to the end of the line only a few passengers are usually left and there is a general sleepy air to the carriage. It is too early for the “Sunday lunch at the in-laws” crowd and its particular kind of tension to be rushing in. And in this quiet, the sound of the train as soothing background noise- you slowly open your book and feel the magic of the words calm your breath.

Expecting space.

When you know that an “important ” station is coming and that a lot of people will step down. The delight is not only you knowing it but when it actually happens and you feel the rush of air, the people descending, the atmosphere shifting. Your expectation confirmed.

Change of scenery.

When the subway train comes out of the tunnel and becomes an overhead railway. Often you know that it will happen - after all you’ve ridden this line before -there is the expectation again. But you’re engrossed in your book or in your thoughts and suddenly something changes- the light. You’ve come out from under the earth, you can see the sun again- every time a delight and a joy. The delight is in this particular tension between knowing that the train is going to be outside and yet somehow re-discovering it every time.

The meeting.  

Saturday, as I was getting off at one of the particularly big stations, its platform even busier than usual that morning, given the proximity of the said station to big department stores, like Galeries Lafayette, a loud “Hey, Brother!” resounded above the crowd. A very tall and lanky dark-skinned man, left the carriage about to depart, carrying in his hand a what seemed to be a ridiculously small ( but was in fact normal sized) bottle of water.  He glided with an incredible grace but also speed among the people- clearly determined to reach someone. At first I thought that he was chasing after a forgetful passenger to give him back an object he left. But the only plausible forgotten object seemed to be the aforementioned half empty bottle of water and somehow it didn’t seem to warrant a chase (nor getting off a busy train right before it took off). In a few flying steps, the good Samaritan has reached one of the many escalators and put his hand on a shoulder of another very tall and lanky dark skinned man. Followed a short but elaborate dance as the “brother” who was hailed has already gone up a couple of steps up on the escalator. He descended and was immediately gathered into a huge hug. There were enormous smiles, and the exclamations of “Since when..?!” and “It’s been how long?!” and just an incredible joy radiating from this reunion, near a grimy subway wall.

I wonder if you have any delights that you’d care to share? I’ll leave you with three more- these are not subway related but taken at random from my notebook. On a side note- a notebook of delights is a delight in itself.

Perfectly smooth curve of a chocolate (milk, dark or white) mouse’s back in Chat Bleu- a chocolate shop, founded in 1912, in a small seaside town of Touquet.

Drawing a small owl with an ink brush inspired by an old New Yorker Christmas cover. The way the brush slides on paper, the elegance of New Yorker’s illustrations, the joy of having- almost achieved- a likeness to the image that I had in my mind: delight, delight, delight.

An airplane leaving its mark in the perfectly blue sky.

More delights to come next year and meanwhile don’t hesitate to press « heart » under the post as it will both help bring this post to more people and just simply delight me.

Thank you so much