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| Phrygian Cap--le Bonnet Rouge |
I was finishing the dregs
of my Sunday midmorning tea when the banging began. Grenoble is usually
relatively quiet le dimanche (on Sunday, but not so much on des
samedis soirs—Saturday nights), so I roused myself and opened the porte-fenêtre (French door) to see what
the hullabaloo was about. The drum and flute music and the singing voices were traveling
a short way down the rue from Place Notre Dame. My camera was in easy
reach, and I shoved my feet into my sandals and headed out the door.
When
I reached the Fontaine des Trois Ordres, I saw the motley group. They looked like they had
stepped off the stage of a production of A
Tale of Two Cities. Representatives of all the social classes—rich and
poor— were there. And they all sported hats: military tricornered, feather plumed with lace, “washer woman,” blue, white, and red ribboned, and the Phrygian
cap—the red bonnet adopted in May 1790 and worn to show solidarity for La Revolution Française.
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| Place Notre Dame Fontaine |
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| One of the "Haves" |
The
musicians played a tune unfamiliar to me, as most are, because I only know La Marseillaise
and Frère Jacques, and with a rousing Liberté!
they were off. I felt like a paparazzo following behind them and looking for my
chance for a photo op. Next stop—Place St. André in the shadow of the ancient Parliament
building. To the amusement of the Sunday lunch diners seated under the
umbrellas in the square, the ragtag ensemble lined up and tried to recruit the
spectators into joining the cause against tyranny.
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| One of the "Have-nots" |
When they realized the
audience was more interested in their déjeuner
(lunch) than in supporting a politically dead topic, they assembled, struck
up the band, and marched to Place Grenette (the heart of town). Surrounded by
shop windows plastered with soldes (sales)
signs, I was struck by the comic anachronism of the troupe. But, it didn’t seem to bother
these fervent players.
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| Strolling down la Grande rue |
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| Place Grenette--Vive la Nation and get your discount |
The weather has been warm for
Grenoble lately, and the sunny but breezy day was beginning to take its toll on
the actors who were dressed in long gowns over crinolines and in wool suits buttoned to the
neck. They put on one last show for those of us who had faithfully trailed
behind. At last, the nobility and the downtrodden peasants joined hands and
circled around while the music played. If only they had thought to do that back
in the 1790s, fewer people would have had an appointment with the “National
Razor,” Madame La Guillotine, as “she”
was called.
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| "Vivre Libre ou Mourir" just like New Hampshire |
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| Monsieur le directeur |
And a blast from the 1790s . . .
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| Madame La Guillotine @ les 6èmes Fêtes Révolutionnaires de Vizille 2013 |
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