Paris: The Novel

They called themselves noble to puff themselves up with pride, and pretend that their blood was better than ours, so they could do what they liked. Aristocrats!” She grimaced. “A false nobility. And the worst of them all was the king. A filthy conspiracy that went on for centuries.”
    Young Jacques knew that his mother revered the French Revolution. But after the death of his father she had always avoided speaking about such things, as though they belonged in some place of darkness that she did not want to enter.
    “Why did it last so long, Maman?”
    “Because there was a criminal power even worse than the king. Do you know what that was?”
    “No, Maman.”
    “It was the Church, Jacques. The king and his aristocrats supported the Church, and the priests told the people to obey them. That was the bargain of the ancien régime. An enormous lie.”
    “Didn’t the Revolution change that?”
    “The year 1789 was more than a revolution. It was the birth of Freedom itself. Liberty, Equality, Fraternity: these are the noblest ideas that men can have. The ancien régime fought against them, so the Revolution cut off their heads. It was absolutely necessary. But more than that. The Revolution released us from the prison that the Church had made. The power of the priests was broken. People were free to deny God, to be free of superstition, and follow reason. It was a great step forward for mankind.”
    “What happened to the priests, Maman? Were they killed, too?”
    “Some.” She shrugged. “Not enough.”
    “But the priests are still here today.”
    “Unfortunately.”
    “So were all the men of the Revolution atheists?”
    “No. But the best were.”
    “You do not believe in God, Maman?” asked Jacques. His mother shook her head. “Did my father?” he pursued.
    “No.”
    The boy was thoughtful for a moment.
    “Then nor shall I,” he said.
    The path was curving toward the east, drawing closer to the outer edge of the cemetery.
    “What happened to the Revolution, Maman? Why didn’t it last?”
    His mother shrugged again.
    “There was confusion. Napoléon came to power. He was half revolutionary, and half a Roman emperor. He nearly conquered all Europe before he was defeated.”
    “Was he an atheist?”
    “Who knows. The Church never got its power back, but he found the priests useful to him—like most rulers.”
    “And after him, things went back to how they were before?”
    “Not exactly. All the monarchs of Europe were terrified of revolution. For thirty years they managed to hold the forces of freedom down. The conservatives in France—the old monarchists, the rich bourgeois, everyone who feared change—they all supported conservative governments. The people had no power, the poor grew poorer. But the spirit of freedom never died. In 1848, revolutions started breaking out all over Europe, including here. Fat old Louis Philippe, the king of the bourgeois classes, was so frightened that he got in a taxi and disappeared to England. We became a Republic again. And we elected the nephew of Napoléon to lead it.”
    “But he made himself emperor.”
    “He wanted to be like his uncle. After two years leading the Republic, he made himself emperor—and since the great Napoléon had left a son who died, he called himself Napoléon III.” She shook her head. “Oh, he was a good showman. Baron Haussmann rebuilt Paris. There was a splendid new opera house. Huge exhibitions to which half the world came. But the poor were no better off. And then, after ten years, he made a stupid mistake. He started a war with Germany. But he was no general, and he lost it.”
    “I remember when the Germans came to Paris.”
    “They smashed our armies and surrounded Paris. It went on for months. We nearly starved. You did not know it, but at the end, the little stews I fed you were made of rats. You were only five, but luckily you were strong. Finally, when they bombarded us with heavy artillery, there was nothing more we could do. Paris surrendered.” She sighed. “The Germanswent back to Germany, but they made us give up Alsace and Lorraine—those beautiful regions along our side of the River Rhine, with their vineyards and mountains. France was humiliated.”
    “It was after that when my father was killed. You always told me he died fighting. But I never really understood. The teachers in school say—”
    “Never mind what they say,” his mother cut in. “I will tell you what happened.” She paused