Deconstructing Paris

Tonight, Ian asked me why Paris is considered so romantic.  I should have known that extended cross-examination would follow my lame attempt at an answer.

I opined that the beautiful architecture of Paris must be a big part of its romantic appeal - the churches and even ordinary buildings.  Ian was having none of it; he had googled Paris (should I be scared?), and found that the buildings are not, in fact, very beautiful.

Well, there's the Seine.  The river is a nice place for lovers to walk along.

Ian pointed out that many cities have rivers.

Then there's the art.  Artists come to Paris to create beautiful things, and the abundance of beauty, and love for beauty, must add to the romantic feeling of the city.

Ian didn't think so.

Then there's the food.  Paris is full of wonderful food - excellent restaurants, great places to take a date, along with wonderful cheese and wine.

Ian doesn't like cheese that much (or wine), and the food argument didn't have much merit.

But suddenly Ian saw a nuance in his own perspective.  He loves croissants!

So now we know:  Paris isn't romantic because it captures almost everything beautiful and colorful about Europe in one single, composite metropolis.  It isn't romantic because its buildings survived through France's surrender in World War II long before it could become "collateral damage" for the warring parties.  It isn't romantic for most of the bourgeois consumer items - visual or edible - that superficial people associate with it.

Paris is romantic because of its croissants.

And I'm certainly not going to dispute that croissants are a factor in making me love Paris.

(July 17, 2013)