Wondering about Quasimodo
Like many people around the world, I was alerted yesterday to the shocking news that Notre Dame, the great Our Lady cathedral of Paris, was on fire. It is reflection of today’s chronic Debbie Downer mentality that some headlines described the situation as Burning to the Ground. Call me Debbie but I initially believed them!
Many CNN moments later, I breathed easier. The flames devastated the roof and ‘forest’ woodwork and restoration will take years of diligent mending, but the Lady lives. Old ladies are often feistier than youngsters expect. Maybe she will not be exactly like her former self, but SpaceX’s Falcon Heavy rocket - the world’s most powerful in use - just had its second flight and Canada made pot legal, so the times are a changing and we all will too. I have great faith in French artisans, and fashion billionaire families Arnault and Pinault must as well - they would not have pledged hundreds of millions to the rehabilitation of the Lady.
What struck me during the fire’s aftermath, however, is the mass outpouring of grief and concern from all over the world. On one CNN show, tweet after tweet came in, from Namibia, Zambia, Cameroon, the Philippines, Australia, and middle America. My Facebook feed is replete with photos of families before the Lady’s two towers, their captions a stream of tres tristes and other mournful messages. Think about it. The world’s largest Muslim-majority nation (mine) is holding the world’s largest single-day election tomorrow - 193 million people voting for some 20,000 representatives AND a President! - and my Facebook feed is STILL full of grief for a damaged Catholic church.
Why?
Honestly, I have been trying to figure out why.
We often disparage social media and its ills. Social media can facilitate the spread of extremism, bullying, and of course cat videos (I prefer koala ones). But during news events like this one, my view shifts. Outrage over a mass shooting is expected. This is outrage over a man-made object. Yes, a repository of faith and history and culture. But honestly, even a Europhile like me can’t recall the specifics of French history related to Notre Dame. I know that Victor Hugo set his tale of Quasimodo and Esmeralda in the cathedral - and I loved the 1939 movie with Charles Laughton and Maureen O’Hara - but how many people outside of France are truly familiar with the tale?
Yet somehow, many of us have been struck by the damage to this cultural ‘heritage’. Somehow, we are engaged in a global conversation, independent of our own faith and ethnicity and nation. about a Catholic icon.
I have some theories. The first theory assumes that most people are genuinely good. This is my hope. Perhaps most people are imbued with a concern for others, and social media enables them to express these latent sentiments. Social media also allows cynics like me to see what these good people are thinking. In the past they would just be relaying good thoughts to their kindred neighbours instead of to random skeptical strangers thousands of miles away.
My second theory is that many people are posturing. I already said I can be cynical - see previous paragraph. We know that people like to look good on social media; even my aunt allows only high-angle selfies. Posturing cuts across cultures and administrations. Official statements of thoughts and prayers are par the course, although some are more eloquent than others. My hesitance in fully endorsing this theory, however, is that millions of people cannot be posturing at the same time. There must be a lot of sincere people in the mix.
My third theory is that the media are unimaginative. To some, ‘reporting’ amounts to rehashing tweets, posts, and four-second soundbites at subway stations. As someone who used to stick fuzzball boom-mikes in people’s faces, I know from experience there is some truth in this. But the counter-argument would say, We are capturing the zeitgeist. They would not be wrong either. In a world where the collective gaze is towards our phones, virtual communication may be our most honest expression. Ok, it may not be completely honest, but for many, it can be their primary means of expression.
A friend asked earlier, When will the tide turn and the backlash start? Will love for Our Lady eventually turn fickle?
I suppose some have already turned. I saw one comment earlier lamenting the lack of attention towards damaged churches in places less celebrated than the 4th arrondissement. I remember that as many of us changed our profile photo to the French flag three years ago and declared ‘Nous sommes tous Parisienne’, others balked and put in flags of more obscure countries.
I get it. We are biased. We can do better.
In the meantime, the restoration starts. The fire was a travesty, but the coverage has been eye opening. I have learned a lot about the engineering of scaffolding and spires, and the flammability of various materials. I especially loved an interview with Warwick University Jenny Alexander - someone book this art historian in stripy shirts for more segments! And it can only be good if we become more aware of how fragile our ‘heritage’ buildings are. We must nurture what we treasure. I say we follow the same advice when it comes to caring for our global community.
To the political establishment, Our Lady’s impact may be in shutting down all conversation of confrontation. Any dispute with vests of any colour is shelved for now. I think Brexit was not mentioned once in the last twenty four hours. About time. The Lady knows better than most, there is a time for talk and there is a time for contemplation. She has smouldered before falling silent. Lift her back up with similar grace.
