Update: Having some blog issues with photos. I will put a google photos album link here so you can see photos if you want, and hopefully will resolve this issue soon! Pantheon Photos
On one of our days off, Chloe, Gabe, and I went to explore the Pantheon. I had never heard of it before this trip, though there are so many famous people buried there, I’m shocked I hadn’t. I wasn’t even really sure what to expect inside. It looked like the US capitol building a bit from the outside, though with more carving for sure. When I read that the Pantheon had crypts, I was imagining the crypts underneath Saint Patrick’s Cathedral in New York City where they bury the cardinals and bishops. Very white, very gilded, very sacred.
And certainly, my first impression upon entering the Pantheon encouraged this belief that the crypts would be elaborate. The building is CRAZY beautiful and so intricately carved and detailed. There is carving everywhere, no surface is left unembellished. On top of that, there are huge murals on most walls detailing the life of Saint Genevieve, alongside paintings of other Christian heroes, such as Joan of Arc and Charlemagne. On top of that, there are gorgeous statues around the nave, art exhibits installed in the wings, and swinging in the middle is Foucault’s Pendulum. It’s so much to take in, I could have sat there forever looking at everything.
This is the final resting place of France’s most beloved heroes and artists. It makes sense that this building is trying to be everything and impress its visitors as soon as they walk in. Dr. Smith keeps talking about how architecture speaks in Paris. This one says “Hey, look at me. I’m important, the people here matter. This is a special space.” I was thrown back in my freshman year religion class, discussing the difference between the sacred and the profane. This building originally functioned as a Christian basilica (in 507!) but even now under its’ “republican” purpose, it is definitively sitting as a sacred space. People speak in hushed voices, even in the main level.
After taking in the main floor and being thoroughly astonished, we descended into the crypts. Almost instantly my notion of grandiose and elaborate graves disappeared. Along the stairs is a monument to Leon Gambetta, who founded the Third Republic. The stairs release into a vestibule with two very important inhabitants: Voltaire and Rousseau. Now I never took a philosophy class, so I can’t say I understand everything but I know these dudes were seriously important. These are also the most elaborate graves in the crypt, placed front and center where no one can miss them. Voltaire is to the left when you enter, with a statue honoring him and a grave behind the statue. To the right, Rousseau lies directly across from Voltaire in a unique tomb. Something I learned there was that Voltaire and Rousseau apparently hated each other. There’s a cruel irony in them being singled out as incredibly influential as they now face each other for the rest of eternity.
From there, the crypts split off into three main wings. One is very full, one is about half full, and the last is empty, and is used for storage and exhibition space. We went into the fullest one first. It kinda felt like a Scooby Doo movie with all the crypts splitting off and people crisscrossing in and out. All of us had someone we were looking for. I was intrigued by seeing the crypts, as I took Graves and Burial Grounds in Fall 2020 and learned a lot about burial places. So I was here to take it all in, but I also really wanted to find the crypt of Victor Hugo. When you have a unique name from a well-known and loved book, you have some feeling of connection to the author.
Very soon I realized all the crypts looked more or less the same, with some scattered decorations. This was pretty intriguing. Many of the burials didn’t have more than the person’s name and dates, but a few had inscriptions. No one was overshadowing the others. While some of the military heroes had decorations, it was fairly equal in funerary decorations. I guess when you get to that level of fame, you’re all on an equal playing field.
We found Josephine Baker first, a crypt I had wanted to find. She was recently reinterred in the Pantheon on Nov. 30, 2021, and became the first Black woman interred there. Her grave was certainly the newest, and still bore flowers on top. I felt a little sad strangely because she was in an entirely empty crypt. Isn’t that strange? I realized this feeling stayed with me. I was happy when people had “others” with them in a crypt, although obviously, it doesn’t matter much to them anymore. I’m certain Josephine Baker will get some crypt-mates soon.
When we found Victor Hugo’s grave, I wished my dad was here with me to experience it. Victor Hugo is laid to rest in a room alongside Emile Zola (who got the window seat), and Alexandre Dumas. I recognized their names, but couldn’t tell you much more than that they’re writers. I thought that Hugo had some excellent company. One of my interests in gravestones is what is chosen to put on them. I remember my great-grandfather’s grave inscription causing issues when he was buried in the Saratoga National Cemetery. His grave in the columbarium, shared with my great grandmother, reads “Shared Legacy, Love Lives On.” There were many rules and restrictions about what we could put on it. So much goes into an inscription: the person’s wishes and also their family’s, rules from the burial ground, space, etc. What we choose to leave behind on the last tangible marker showing we were here is immensely complicated. And yet, in the Pantheon, so many graves contain just the name and dates of the person. We decided that Victor Hugo said enough in his life that he didn’t need an inscription. After all, this is the man who wrote Les Miserables, which clocks in at roughly 1,400 pages. The dude had a LOT to say.
Still, it was an impactful moment for me. Hugo’s book, and the subsequent musical adaptation, have shaped so much of my life. Without my name given to me by my father, the world’s biggest Les Mis fan, who would I have been? Would I still have found a love for musical theatre? Would have been as strong? This trip has me asking a lot of the big questions, which I think is about par for the course as a recent post-grad in my early twenties. This is where he was laid. I don’t know why it was so momentous. But then again, that asks a bigger question. Why do we return to burial grounds? Just a jab at an answer: because there is a connection there that matters. I’m grateful for the opportunity to share that connection briefly.
Marie and Pierre Curie are also buried in the Pantheon, lying next to each other. Their caskets are supposedly lined with an inch of lead. Their bodies are still radioactive as a result of their experiments with radium. Another very cool burial that caught my eye was that of Louis Braille. I had not realized he was French. He had a plaque, and throughout the Pantheon, Braille was everywhere. The maps in the vestibule even had a trail of braille leading to Braille’s grave. In addition to the individual graves and memorials, there was a tribute in the Northern corridor to those who helped Jewish people hide and escape Nazi persecution during World War II. There are 81 people interred in the Pantheon. Of those 81, just 6 are women. I saw probably almost all the graves because I just kept ducking into crypts to see them. I didn’t recognize a lot of the names, but some were vaguely familiar from years of history classes and literature references.
Stop here if you don’t want to read my ramblings on grief and memory that I thought about in the Pantheon. I recently (October, so not recently but it still feels recent) lost an incredibly dear friend and mentor of mine. In talking to her as she was dying and after during grief counseling, I butted up with some intense questions of meaning. She wondered, as we all would, what she would be remembered for. Walking through the crypts, and thinking about the people here who had been interred there, I wondered what they would think of their place in French history. Surely, there is at least one (probably more) person who would have had complicated feelings about their legacy. Ultimately, burial grounds, graves, and legacy are all left in the hands of the living. We do our best in this life but we have very little control over what happens once we’re gone. Maybe that’s reassuring, maybe that’s terrifying. All I know is that all those interred were picked from the crowd to be honored with a Pantheon burial, and I would love to know what they would think about it. What were they most proud of? Does that line up with what we remember now?
And that concludes Cosette’s existential ramblings for the day. I am very grateful we visited the Pantheon and were able to share in that space. Like all the best things and experiences, I left with even more questions than when I entered (but also a boatload of photos of the beautiful architecture) and a sense of having been in a higher spiritual space.