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New website!

Fri, 10 Jun 2011 23:54:33 +0200

I’ve moved from Tumblr to a personal website. To view my blog and pictures, please visit www.johnlapin.com.

You can see Annecy at the far end of the lake. Talloires from...

Fri, 10 Jun 2011 21:49:10 +0200

You can see Annecy at the far end of the lake.
Talloires from above. They call the large, spine-like mountain to the left of the frame “The Dragon.”
The far side of the lake.
The alcove at Talloires, where the water is much calmer than it is in Annecy.

St. Germain Pilgrimage & "We Love Cheese"

Fri, 10 Jun 2011 21:42:00 +0200

Today we made the annual “St. Germain Pilgrimage” to the Ermitiage on the mountain above Talloires. Bernard told us today that St. Germain was the first prior in Talloires. Every evening, after working and studying at the Monastery and Priory, St. Germain would walk the three miles (at an almost-vertical incline) to a specific spot on the mountain. Each morning he would walk down again. While the Pilgrimage wasn’t terribly taxing for us today, though I did make the mistake of wearing my Top-Siders, it would have been much more difficult in the 11^th century when the weight of God on one’s back felt much more burdensome, especially with the possibility of letting the mind wander and commit Thoughtcrime.

As the Tufts European Center states, “In the Charter of 1018, Queen Ermengarde, wife of King Rudolphe III of Bourgogne, gave Talloires and its surrounding lands to the Benedictine Abbey of Saint Martin in Savigny near Lyon. Germain, the first Prior of Talloires, was sent by the abbey shortly thereafter to manage the donated site. Under Germain, the monastic community erected a magnificent church which stood in front of the present-day Priory. Consecrated in 1031, the church was rebuilt after a fire in the 16th century.”

It was an especially nice walk because it’s one of the events that both students and professors participate in together. In addition to faculty, we were joined by Provost Jamshed Bharucha, who will be leaving next year to assume the presidency of The Cooper Union, Provost-Elect Peggy Newell, and the International Board of Overseers.

I’ve included some pictures of the spectacular views from “St. Germain,” as the destination is now commonly called.

I will try to replay a scene from dinner tonight involving Brigitte practicing her English pronunciation of various fruit names. She especially likes to say “raspberry,” which she pronounces, “ras-PUH-berry.” Jean-Michel and Pierre ask her nightly how “raspberry” is pronounced, and she jumps at the opportunity to show off her careful pronunciation. (Note: the two of them sound quite natural in their perfect pronunciation of the English nomenclature.) She then asked, slicing a piece of brie to demonstrate, “Isn’t ‘rasp’ what you say when two pieces of fabric are torn or cut?” To which Jean-Michel sardonically responded, “No, Brigitte. That’s ‘rip.’” Try as she might to pronounce “rip,” it came out sounding like “rape.” Jean-Michel admonished, “No, Brigitte. That word is the same as our violer. We don’t rape cheese. You must spend more time practicing your English, otherwise people might think we violate cheese, when, in fact, we love it.”

Paris, je t'aime

Wed, 08 Jun 2011 19:21:00 +0200

Last weekend Val and I took advantage of our proximity to Paris. Having been in want of some culture and gastronomy after three weeks in Annecy, we bought tickets to Paris for a weekend of sightseeing and food. While Annecy is a beautiful town in an idyllic setting in France – my pictures don’t begin to do it justice – it’s like many other small, isolated places around the world. The people here are friendly, but they aren’t concerned with literature, art, history, philosophy, and good food. Professor Gasarian, who comes from Paris, attributes this to the fact that Annecy is a very new part of France, having been annexed in 1860 from the Kingdom of Sardinia/ Italy in exchange for military support from Napoleon. I’ve noticed this myself in dealings with local people. When I tell them I’m studying Rousseau and Hugo, people sometimes turn up their nose, even though Rousseau lived in Annecy for a time…

Val and I purchased plane tickets to leave from Geneva airport at 4:30, thinking we’d attend our morning classes – for me, it was my weekly Flowers of the Alps excursion – and then take a taxi or bus from Talloires to Geneva. Unfortunately, however, we did not know that cabs are extremely expensive in this area because there are so few of them. I called a few companies and was quoted 115-120€. Looking at the bus schedules, we found that because of the French holidays of Ascension Day and Pentecost, the busses weren’t running on their regular schedules. The only cost-effective option was to take a bus from Annecy to Geneva and to skip our classes.

Arriving in Geneva almost two hours after we left Annecy (the trip usually takes around 45 minutes in a car on the highway), we found the specific door for French destinations and headed through security. Since the boarder between Switzerland and France runs through the Geneva airport, it’s possible to count a trip inside France as domestic. After eating what had to have been the most expensive tuna sandwich in the world, we sat in by the gate for 3 hours doing homework.

The flight itself was only 45 minutes, but we didn’t arrive to the bed and breakfast, a few blocks from the Bastille in the 11^th Arrondissment, until nearly 7:00. We entered to find the husband and wife celebrating their son’s 30^th birthday in an absolutely beautiful and perfectly-decorated front room. During the tour of the apartment, we were informed that we would be sharing a bathroom with Marie and her husband. “These are our towels, and these are yours. These are our toothbrushes. This is our room, and this is yours.” Nevertheless, it was a wonderful place. (Check out the doorknob on the bathroom door! It’s emblematic of the whole apartment. Every detail was perfect.)

That night, I had planned, on the schedule I forgot to print, to take Val to one of my favorite Parisian restaurants: Relais de Venise, one of the best entrecôte establishments. I’d been craving steak frites, but once we got settled, it was too late to trek over to the restaurant. We decided on a crowded neighborhood bistrôt, and ordered their formule (a/k/a “fixed price”). We both started with halved artichoke hearts with oil and vinegar. I had veal with mashed potatoes, caramelized onions, and chanterelle mushrooms. Val had dorado that was sautéed and plated with vegetables. Fresh strawberries for desert. Wine. Bread. Heaven.

Saturday we got up early, had breakfast in the front room, and headed to the Louvre. I hadn’t been there in a few years and was shocked (and dismayed, actually) to see the significant commercialization that has been done to the palace. If you arrive underground from the Métro, after passing by the ancient walls, you’ll see Starbucks, McDonald’s, Swarovski, an APPLE STORE, and another Starbucks after security. Frankly, I think it’s disgusting. There is also a giant wrap around the Seine side of the Louvre with a big iPad 2 advertisement.

Once inside, though, we saw Venus de Milo, Nike of Samothrace, Liberty Leading the People, the Mona Lisa, and many other works between these. It was a very quick visit, but we knew that there was no way we could give the museum as much attention as it deserved, so we made a short list and saw the pieces.

We then walked all the way through the Tuileries, down the Champs-Elysées, stopping at Ladurée (where the macaron was invented), and at a café for a spot of lunch. We posed for pictures in front of the Arc de Triomphe, and continued down to the Tour d’Eiffel.

We then took the Métro to the Centre Pompidou to see the National Museum of Modern Art and Georges, the restaurant on the roof. Most of the art was interesting, but we agreed that we appreciated the 1905 to 1960 works more than the 1960s to present pieces. Once on the roof, we took many more pictures, and decided to have a drink. I wanted to get a pastis, but the prices were four times what they are anywhere else (no exaggeration!), so we had a coffee instead. We then bought a bottle of wine and drank it in the Place des Vosges and tromped around the Marais district before dinner. After dinner we visited my high school friend Madeline Baker, who is studying and working in Paris for the summer.

On Sunday, we spent the morning at an amazing outdoor market on boulevard de Richard-Lenoir, buying falafel, olives, dolma, and baklava. We walked past the Sorbonne, tipping our hats to the scholars, present and past, and stopped at the Luxembourg Garden to have the provisions from the market. The Luxembourg is a phenomenally beautiful and grand park that houses the French Senate in the Luxembourg Palace. The lawns are perfectly manicured, and the trees are geometrically arranged to create a stunning visual. We were even treated to an orchestral performance during lunch!

The final stop was to see Michael McNeill, one of my former French teachers from Kent, and his partner Jonathan, an artist. We shared a bottle of wine and got a tour of their gigantic, four-bedroom flat. They had just gotten back from a weekend in Provence, and we were due at Gare de Lyon soon, so the visit was unfortunately a quick one.

As with any great trip, I was sad to leave Paris, but I’ll certainly be back soon. It’s hard to stay away for too long!

P.S. To see more pictures from Paris, and elsewhere, visit my gallery at http://gallery.me.com/john.lapin.

The Pompidou Center (National Museum of Modern Art). His quote...

Wed, 08 Jun 2011 19:19:00 +0200

The Pompidou Center (National Museum of Modern Art). His quote says, “Art must discuss, contest, and protest.”
Eiffel Tower from the roof of the Pompidou Center.
People sitting in front of Pompidou.
Val and me in the Place des Vosges.
Sunday breakfast.
Olives at the market.
A woman buys bread.
Beautiful tomatoes.
The falafel stand at the market.
Sailboats at the Luxembourg Garden.

P.S. To see more pictures from Paris, and elsewhere, visit my gallery at http://gallery.me.com/john.lapin.

The doorknob at La Roquette, our bed and breakfast. One of the...

Wed, 08 Jun 2011 19:02:00 +0200

The doorknob at La Roquette, our bed and breakfast.
One of the streets near our apartment.
Artichoke hearts.
Veal for me; dorado for Val.
Next to the Bastille.
A bassist let Val touch her instrument. She’s clearly never met Val.
The front of the Louvre from the Sully wing.
The Arch de Triomphe.
Macaron heaven.
Me in front of the Eiffel Tower.

P.S. To see more pictures from Paris, and elsewhere, visit my gallery at http://gallery.me.com/john.lapin.

One of the main streets in Chambéry, where Rousseau lived. The...

Thu, 02 Jun 2011 21:17:54 +0200

One of the main streets in Chambéry, where Rousseau lived.
The burial chamber of Mme de Warens, Rousseau’s lover and protector, whom he called “Mama,” and who was 12 years his senior.
One of the old neighborhoods in Chambéry.
Des macarons in a salon du thé.
Heaven.
We then visited Trésserve, next to the lac du Bourget, which is the largest lake in France. Here, Alphonse de Lamartine was inspired to write “Le lac,” and Prof. Gasarian was inspired to perform it.

CHARMETTES Yesterday we visited the former summer home of...

Thu, 02 Jun 2011 20:50:47 +0200

CHARMETTES

Yesterday we visited the former summer home of Jean-Jacques Rousseau. It was quite a disappointment, since there was no guide and the house was worse than badly preserved — in fact, nothing was original!

In the “salon.”
A hearth that has since been closed. Good thing, since the room was quite drafty even still.
J.-J. was known to suffer from vapeurs and took to fainting after a tiring fit of hypochondria.
Le jardin français aux Charmettes.

Since it has been raining since last night, I’ve shut...

Tue, 31 May 2011 17:21:40 +0200

Wow!

Look at the almonds!

Framboise!

Since it has been raining since last night, I’ve shut myself in my room to memorize flowers and eat confections. I grabbed this quasi-macaroon (quasi because there’s no buttercream) at the corner boulangerie on the walk home from the bus after class. It’s an amande (almond) outside with framboise (raspberry) jam on the inside. Too bad they don’t do to-go coffee here!

Tomorrow the French classes are going to Les Charmettes and Chambéry, where Rousseau lived.

When they say Talloires is the paraponting capital, I guess they...

Tue, 31 May 2011 17:12:00 +0200

When they say Talloires is the paraponting capital, I guess they mean it.

(Paraponters ride the heat waves and changes in air temperature and then smoothly land in a field near the base of the mountain.)

Today we hiked up the opposite side of the valley from Mont...

Sat, 28 May 2011 22:12:15 +0200

MONT BLANC!

Bérnard and his moustache!

Rhododendron fields.

Where France, Italia, and Suisse meet!

Female mountain goat with golden eyes.

Today we hiked up the opposite side of the valley from Mont Blanc and got fantastic views of the 4810m peak! Crisp temperature, fresh air, fields of alpine flowers, and Bérnard’s moustache made it a great day, even though my lunch was a sandwich of thickly spread pâté and Wonder Bread…

Upcoming excursions

Fri, 27 May 2011 19:02:00 +0200

Tomorrow is the group trip to Chamonix, where, if weather permits, we’ll hike up the opposite side of the valley and get a great view of Mont Blanc!

Wednesday, the French classes are going to Chambéry, where Rousseau spent a great deal of time.

Friday, Val and I are off to Paris for the weekend!

La politique française

Thu, 26 May 2011 21:32:00 +0200

It’s time to discuss some French opinion on the Dominique Strauss-Kahn scandal and the potentiality of Christine Lagarde, current French finance minister, taking over his position at the IMF.

In reading some French regional and national articles this past week on the scandal, and having tried to keep up with the American press, I was surprised that there is such a difference of opinion between the French and the Americans in what happened in that hotel room. First, we must recognize that extramarital affairs and sexual harassment are no more common for French politicians than for Americans. Many American articles have tried to claim that this is yet another example of loose French morals, yet Christopher Hitchens’s recent article and a cursory glance back at recent issues of these types reveal that, in fact, both countries seem, at least since Kennedy and de Gaulle, to be rife with sexual misconduct.

Having spoken with my French family here in Annecy, I’ve learned that many French people – they claim it’s the overwhelming popular opinion – think Strauss-Kahn was set up by someone intending to remove him as a candidate for the presidency of France. They believe that the fact that he had his testimony ready and that because he lingered around the Sofitel after the “incident,” he was probably not guilty. They also cite the presumption of innocence as a significant factor in thinking that it was a conspiracy. (I’m not sure that the notion of someone being innocent until proven guilty means that the idea of a conspiracy is any more likely, but that’s their opinion.)

Along these lines, my host family also thought it was astounding that so many Americans think DSK is guilty. The accusations of the chambermaid I’ve read from American newspapers have been much more detailed than what is portrayed here. The French notion of the presumption of innocence is different than the Americans’. They are much more concerned with the potentiality of incriminating oneself before the outcome has been decided. It is for this reason that it is illegal to show the accused in handcuffs.

I learned last night that the way French criminal trials proceed is vastly different from how they progress in America. While in America the burden of proof is on the prosecution to prove that the defendant committed the crime beyond a reasonable doubt, in France, there is no burden of proof. Both sides present their version of the story, and the side that presents a more convincing account of what happened wins the case. In my opinion, this has the potential of being quite dangerous, and highly dependent on the quality of the defense council. If the defendant is indigent and cannot afford proper, his public defender might be burdened with too many cases to do a good enough job to keep him out of jail. I much prefer the American version, in which the prosecution is required to prove the guilt of the defendant, and in which the defendant is not required to present a case in his defense.

In other matters political, it appears that while Americans have a generally positive view of current French finance minister Christine Lagarde, many French do not. The Economist had an account of her qualifications, which I took to be an accurate, uncontroversial article. It said that there really hasn’t been anyone who has anything bad to say about her. She is supposed to be a superb minister of finance and an economics genius who has an incredible ability to negotiate and argue. My French family, however, said that many in France object to some of the “stupid” and bizarre decisions she has made as finance minister. The Economist defended her by arguing that these questionable policy choices can be justified by the fact that her job as minister is to enact the policy decisions of President Sarkozy. The French evidently think that she is too connected to these bad decisions and that she is too close to the DSK scandal, given that they are both contemporary French economists and that France is a small country. My family thinks it’s time for someone from another country to take over the IMF and to let the French lick their wounds and nourish their pride before they take another go at international leadership.

Note the alternating mountains as the lake progresses in the...

Wed, 25 May 2011 23:59:45 +0200

Note the alternating mountains as the lake progresses in the first photo. They fit together like the teeth of a zipper.

Today I memorized flowers and made some stops around town.

Photo

Tue, 24 May 2011 23:17:17 +0200

The docks below the Priory.

Students relaxing in the gardins.

The walkway away from the Priory.

Pure elegance.

The Hills are Alive: Flowers of the Alps

Tue, 24 May 2011 23:08:00 +0200

There have been a few noteworthy occurrences and stories to recount since my last post. The first is that I had my first few real classes. Last week was mainly filled with orientations and introductions and syllabi. Yesterday I had both my first French class with Gérard Gasarian and my first Flowers of the Alps (fully titled: The Hills are Alive: Flowers of the Alps) class in which we actually collected flowers. Studying botany and reading Rousseau has made me feel even more old-fashioned than usual….

Prof. Gasarian is a typical Frenchman. (What does that mean?) He has so far alternated between wearing a four-button khaki suit from the 1990s with a khaki turtleneck underneath and brown leather Puma shoes and a black suit, qui n’est pas du tout à la mode. (Gérard is the only one of us who dresses appropriately for the devastatingly cold interiors of the Priory. Because of the thick walls and relative lack of windows, the Priory hovers around 60 degrees, even while outside the walls Talloires reaches 90. The students shiver inside while the professors sweat outside. We frantically run back and forth in a desperate attempt to reach some sort of equilibrium that more resembles Swedish water therapy than anything else.) He is a tall man with significant jowls and a unobtrusive mid-1900s gray moustache. Atop his head, combed back, lies more white than gray hair. His profoundly deep voice and enunciation of the sonoritiés, nasales, and liquides of French make his class a pleasure. The only frightening thing is that in the Salle de méditation, where class is held, the two founders of the Tufts European Center, Donald and Charlotte MacJannet, are interred underneath a giant stone with the words PAX ET LUX (the Tufts motto) perfectly carved in it.

In this “Alpine Literature” course, we are reading, among other texts, sections of Rousseau’s Confessions and Reveries, both of which deal with his connection to nature and aversion to city-life. Rousseau’s most famous philosophical tenet is that society corrupts man, who is born good and would remain, if only he could survive without exposure to anything societal. I am also fascinated by his philosophy of religion, which was heretical and centered on nature, instead of on a god. Like many 18^th century thinkers, Rousseau was a deist, which is to say he was an atheist who did not want to be exiled. Had his works been published in his lifetime, even with his moderate mention of his “love” of Catholicism, he would surely have had to flee to England.

Yesterday in my botany class we collected our first thirty flowers and taped them to index cards. Shown a flower, we are to be able to give the Latin binomial nomenclature (Genus species) and Family name, along with the common French or English name. For example, if I were given a small white flower, it might be Allium ursinum, of the Alliaceae family, commonly known as “Ail-des-ours,” or “bears’ garlic.” Of course, it could also be Galium mollugo, of the Rubiaceae family, commonly known as “Hedge Bedstraw” because it was used to stuff mattresses. I have converted these flimsy index cards to my iPad with the application “Flashcards Deluxe” because the flowers are already starting to change color. Hopefully I’ll know them all soon.

And now for something funny: While Brigitte typically makes wonderful food, on Sunday night, granted it was after a big lunch, we had a “typical” cold meal. I welcomed this because of the heat outside. (I had spent the entire day in the Pâquier reading Rousseau by the lake.) The family always insists I am served first, so I was handed a big bowl full of only shredded carrots. Brigitte called this a “carrot salad.” I was then handed a plate of rolled up slices of processed ham with a cornichon (a little, tart pickle) on top, and a TUBE of mayonnaise. This was dinner. Chalk that one up under cultural differences!

All joking aside, Brigitte is wonderful! I came home Monday after classes to find my laundry folded on my bed. And each morning she makes me a pique-nique lunch. There is always a homemade dessert and homemade yogurt. She also likes to practice her English by reciting words she thinks sound funny: “James Bond,” “blackberry,” and “Bill Clinton,” to name a few. They have also asked me if Colorado has any specific culture unique to the state. I didn’t know what to say, since I think there is a certain Colorado vibe but no actual culture, unlike, say, in Louisiana, so I told them that there are some cowboys in the mountains and that people are generally very outdoorsy. This probably only served to further stereotypes of Colorado…

These are taken from the Pâquier and Champ de Mars on the shore...

Sat, 21 May 2011 18:35:12 +0200

These are taken from the Pâquier and Champ de Mars on the shore of the Lac d’Annecy.

Hike to La Cascade d’Angon. The trail we took was first...

Sat, 21 May 2011 18:26:24 +0200

Hike to La Cascade d’Angon. The trail we took was first used by monks of the Priory in the early 11th century. Part of the solid “stone” that the waterfall looks like it runs down is actually a giant stalagmite.

This is at a little café across from my bus stop after a long...

Thu, 19 May 2011 21:32:31 +0200

This is at a little café across from my bus stop after a long day.

The “beach” next to the Priory. I took this from a...

Thu, 19 May 2011 21:26:23 +0200

The “beach” next to the Priory. I took this from a café above. There’s a little dock next to the diving board, and lots of mecs doing tricks into the water.