The ears have walls

Sunday, July 03, 2005

Paris Noir

Read this surreal and ultimately sad essay by Miles Marshall Lewis about a cold and overcast day spent walking around Black Paris accompanied by his illiterate Parisian guide.

Today we walk through Saint-Georges and Montmartre to Pigalle, the seedy ninth arrondissement neighborhood central to black expats from 1910 till around the Great Depression.

"You're cold, chéri?" "Non, Cissine, not at all."

I'm freezing. I'm wearing a CBGB T-shirt, a beige Nehru jacket that I refuse to wear slung over my shoulder. I left our apartment in a rush, not realizing the jacket matches my tan hemp jeans perfectly.

Click here for the full text.


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