
In my last post I put up a photo of the "Mur des Fédérés" in division 76 of Pere Lachaise cemetery. That particular part of the cemetery is dotted with monuments to the tens of thousands of deported Jews, heroes of the French resistance during World War Two and to the many of France's most famous leaders of the Left.
As you exit the Pere Lachaise metro, you'll see the cemetery walls bear to the left as you cross the street and walk up Avenue Gambetta for about 100m or so and you'll see the entrance to the little "jardin" on your right; just walk in and follow the cemetery wall for about another 50m or so and you'll see this incredible bit of sculpture.

If you walk slowly enough and look hard enough, there hidden treasures everywhere in Montmartre cemetery. OK so I also tweaked this in Photoshop, that's true -- but all I did was copy the original image to a new layer, flip it horizontally, then using a layer mask and the gradient tool I made a mirror copy, merged the two layers together to form a new, more harmonious image.
One of the last two ancient church burying grounds left inside historic Paris, Calvaire cemetery is located on the heights of Montmartre, just a stone's throw from Sacre Coeur.
OK so these two are interred in St. Etienne du Mont, and not in an outdoor burial ground, the main focus of this blog and my Paris cemeteries website. But hey, they are, after all, two of the great luminaries of French cultural history. Anyway, located just across from the backside of the Pantheon this church is probably often overlooked by many tourists. They walk throuugh the hallowed halls of the Pantheon to pay their respects to the great figures of French history and probably never think to slide around the corner and stop in at the seemingly unremarkable church sitting in the back corner.
In fact this very space was quite probably the location of one of the very first Christian churches built in Paris. Originally built in honor of Saints Peter and Paul, by Clovis, king of the Franks, he had the church rededicated to Sainte Genevieve (422-512) who was the patron saint of Paris (she reportedly turned Attila away from the gates of Paris). The first chapel was built around her crypt in the sixth century and subsequently extended and enlarged over the centuries. (That's her sarcophagus below.)
Blaise Pascal (1623-1662) was a mathematician (he wrote a treatise on projective geometry at the age of sixteen), physicist and religious philosopher. He also became one of the great French prose writers and his wit and insight reflected in works such as the Pensees, is still a touchstone in Western literature. (His death mask is below.)
Jean Racine (1639-1699) is one of the great French dramatists and poets, certainly one of the great tragedians of the 17th century, and is read widely today for his elegant and simple style of writing.

It is quite rare these days to find an older masoleum interior in such good shape -- and the colors are still vibrant and quite striking.
You may recall news stories within the past year regarding France's hard-line position on the issue of whether Turkey committed genocide in 1916 when various elements of the Turkish government systematically and wantonly exterminated more than a half million Armenians. France says that Turkey committed government-sponsored genocide and wants Turkey to admit it. Turkey says, no it won't admit to something that isn't true. It doesn't deny the deaths of a large porportion of the Armenians living in Turkey during the war but says it was not "genocide."
I met David on the path seperating divisions 9 and 10; he was trying to inquire from some workmen repairing a headstone, where he might find Marcel Marceau's grave. They seemed eager to help but were at a loss of trying to (a) understand what he wanted and (b) help him find his way. I was walking by and overheard his pleas for assistance so I quietly butted in and asked if I could help.
I then pointed him toward the way back to the main gate. He thanked me and off he went smiling.


And to Fernand Arbelot (1880-1942, div. 11), whose one desire in death was to forever gaze on the face of his wife:


