Evening star., 1962-09-16
Cities
and People
Poris Pottern,
Four Flights Up
By ROBERT J. LEWIS

to my hotel room in the Rue
d'Astorg-crowded, compact,
efficient, a bit outworn, stub
bornly traditional yet chang
ing slightly, and a bit more
dangerous than a compar-
able place in the United
States.
The hotel is on a narrow
side street off the Boulevard
Malesherbes, two short
blocks from the Elysee Pal
ace-the residence of Gen. de
Gaulle. This location ac-
counts for the plentiful
number of gendarmerie sta
toned at nearby street
corners, and for the sawed
off machine guns so many
OF GIlen carry
But it's a quiet neighbor-
hood except for the posi-
bility that 'mauvais clients"
(bad customers, as the peo-
pie working at the hotel
describe them may decide
to make further attempts
against the life of the head
of the state.
Returning to the hotel late
at night, you see a bus load of
blue uniformed officers
stationed at the intersection
of a darkened interior street.
Or you encounter others
idling in pairs, waiting for
who knows what? Or, as you
walk along, you notice a
car tagged down and the
occupants required to show
their papers.
But you could easily miss
seeing these small evidences
of the tension in Paris which
accounts for surreptitiouS
Scrawlings on subway walls,
or on the walls Of buildings.
de Gaulle salope!" (De
Gaulle dirty, they say. Or
"De Gaulle traiteur!"
AS a stranger, you could
easily miss the tension, for
it is understated except in
the newspaper headlines.
The life of the city is SEEM
ingly entirely undiSturbed.
Even the presence of the
gendarmes is unobtruSive,
their manner Is casual and 2
polite, their conduct is dis
Greet.
TO REACH MY ROOM four
flights up, I can either walk
or take one of those unen-
closed elevators which look
like a chariot travelling YER
tically in full view of all
floors.
1t operates with a patented
gadget called a "combalu-
zier," which appears to be
a made-up word, probably
not deriving from the French
word "luxer," meaning ''to
dislocate." The elevator
starts smoothly enough and
is Of absolutely silent opera
tion-but it invariably stops
with a fearful jolt.
The first thing that strikes
you as you enter my room is
an i'm m ense mahogany
wardrobe Of classic design.
Next is the bed, a contrap-
ton made of brass which
has a wine-red coverlet.
Straight ahead is a sort of
mirrored vanity table, a con-
venient spot on which to
place your typewriter.
Sitting here, I have a view
to my right of a handsome
small courtyard planted to
evergreenS four floors be-
low. Most of the rooms seem
to open on this courtyard.
Conversations from other
rooms on the same court
yard blend unintelligibly as
they richochet back and
forth. But kitchen sounds
are usually clear and identi-
fable.
= 4 4
PUT ALL THESE THINGS
I have mentioned, plus two
armchairs, into one small
room, and there is not much
space left over. Threading
your way in and out would
not be difficult except for one
thing-the huge mirrored
door Of the mahogany ward
robe.
Unless locked with a key,
this monStrouS door has a
tendency to swing open
silently and treacherously.
1t can clap you on the back
of the head when you're not
looking happened twice.,
or you can sail straight into it
in the morning rush chap
pened once), when it is in
the open position.
The bathroom is slightly
more crowded-so full of
furnishings, indeed, that the
dnCVs nynaYaS OY1lx1 Y1orf NOV