eat the rich (but in philosophical terms)

(Sorry Smith)

So this is a topic I have been thinking about a lot lately over the past week. As we work our way through the history of Paris and the ways that it changed and grew over time, one thing has become abundantly clear- the preserved historic structures of Paris are predominantly structures celebrating money and power.

I can probably guess what you’re thinking–

“Hold up- we all know that isn’t necessarily true.” or “Well, duh.”

Yes to both, but I wanted an excuse to talk philosophy so here this post is. (As a philosophy major, I consider it my obligation to make any situation substantially more difficult and long-winded than it needs to be). I’m going to take a brief detour into some heavier concepts to elaborate on this, so hang tight.

In Thinking Like a Mall, Steven Vogel argues that the varied senses of the word ‘nature’ lead to a sort of paradox within environmental philosophy. ‘Nature’ is often used to describe everything except humans. This, Vogel points out, is pretty dumb. We are part of the natural world, are we not? We aren’t aliens, moreover, the way humans live is in no way divorced from our surroundings. This leads to a fundamental dilemma that I want to focus on and that I feel like preservationists assume to be simple; if we are natural beings, then would our constructed spheres (i.e. the built environment) be considered natural as well? Furthermore, should there be the same measure of urgency in protecting our built environment as there is in the attempt to attain a perfect ‘natural’ one that may have never even existed?

As a preservationist, my knee-jerk answer is a resounding “YES.” Obviously this is an oversimplification of my feelings on sustainable development and architectural value, but a great part of me still feels as though the issue of preservation deserves the same measure of respect. When I start to examine my feelings on historic preservation in this context, I find that I divorce my opinions on ecology from my opinions on preserving the built environment. I have that voice in the back of my head whispering things like, “why shouldn’t it be just as dire???” But this sentiment raises questions of its own. Specifically, what then, is preserved?

We can’t live without influencing nature in some way, especially if human nature is as Karl Marx claims. If we are beings that work- that constantly strive to make their mark on the world around them- then we should be making active attempts to preserve the products of our labor, of our innovation. However, I wholeheartedly prescribe to Marx’s ideas on the construction of society and the description of history. Everything in society is built on the backs of those who labor and is in turn shaped by those who own the means of production. In terms of preservation, what ‘we’ choose to remember is absolutely what those in power want us to remember. This has never been clearer to me than as we walk through Paris.

The extravagance of Versailles, the stunning excess of the Opera Garnier, the monumental structures, and the very streets themselves are emblems of a culture that prizes beauty and enlightenment, but not the kind that average people could attain or accomplish. That is not to say that I don’t absolutely adore this city, because I do. It is easy to see why Paris has always been considered a gold standard for cities around the globe. However, it is difficult to overlook the sheer class disparity that must have been present during her prime. These buildings seem like nostalgic monuments to days of past wealth; monuments that don’t necessarily reflect the situation of the masses. I’m sure that there are instances of perfectly preserved places that aren’t palaces or tributes to the rich and powerful, but it feels as though the most treasured gems of the city are those that celebrate these attributes. I know that this is common in urban areas, but it is somehow even more striking in a place of Paris’ age.

I cannot help but think that the reason that Paris is such a revolutionary city must be related to the sites they have chosen to preserve. When the opulence and extravagance that your fellow citizens enjoy stares you in the face as you starve in the gutter, anyone would be hard-pressed to contain their bitterness. The physical proof of gross success to such a degree is somehow disheartening, enraging, and enthralling all at once.