This has been a splendid Sunday. It was cold, raw and looked like rain, but we never noticed it.
Frank and I set out this morning for Notre Dame de Paris. It isn’t far from us. We went in and spent an hour. I haven’t said much about it before; indeed it is too grand to talk about. The place gets you after a while; you want to stay.
You know I was never one to worship in churches, but since I am here I have become a worshipper of them. Notre Dame hasn’t the classic majesty of the Madeleine. The former is Gothic – I can’t imagine a more magnificent specimen. It was complete in 1235. The Madeleine was the work of moderns – completed about the middle of the 19th century. It is frankly an imitation of the classic – the temple of Jupiter at Athens.
That is the difference, in a few words, between these two great churches. For the one offers a wealth of detail, typical of the Gothic, and the other is the more imposing monument. One wants to stand a year in the sublime awe of Ste. Madeleine; and one wants to spend a year studying the infinite details and beauties that every foot of Notre Dame presents.
We wandered around and saw a whole lot of Paris afoot. We had no objective – just went wherever it was convenient. That is my idea of the way to see and remember things. Can you picture me going around on one of these sightseeing schedules? Wandering suits me much better.
We had dinner at a Duval. There is a chain of restaurants in Paris called Duval. They’re all over. Sort of a French translation of the Childs idea, but real places, real service and real food. For 4.25 a piece (75 cents) we had a good dinner.
When we got back at 5:30, there was Clarence, in from the front. He had a lot to tell. It’s a great life, especially when you can move around, as a photographer must. He has quite a collection of boche relics.
This week has been very uneventful in contrast with the great happenings in the real world. The Germans are actually running, and it begins to look like victory and peace at last. But here the war moves on at a walk. I just hope we’re doing some good.
The peace stories always seem to break on Sunday. Every Sunday brings us nearer the end. Maybe next Sunday will show a real end.
Next post October 16
Letters from Sidney Friend During The Great War 