LUCY: Why not? RICKY: What about your French? LUCY: What about my French?! RICKY: Well, Paris is a big city, and not knowing the language, you’re liable to get in a lot of trouble. —I Love Lucy, 1956 Paris! Merely to look at the word evokes a visceral response unmatched by virtually any city in the world. Prague, London, Warsaw, Istanbul: beautiful as they may be, do any of them elicit an emotion? Think—no, even better, say—the word out loud: Paris! What do you see? What do you feel? For me, the word conjures up the Eiffel Tower, bridges over the Seine, outdoor cafés, the glistening gold dome of Napoleon’s tomb. Stately monuments and ancient streets. Corner boulangeries from which the smells of freshly baked bread waft every time a customer opens the door. Paris! The adopted home of Ernest Hemingway, Gertrude Stein, and countless other writers and artists who have been drawn here for centuries.
