Paris Syndrome

Back in the fall, D. told me about Paris Syndrome – first written about in the French journal of psychiatry, Nervure, in 2004. It primarily affects Japanese tourists to Paris (on average about 20 – out of the 6 million Japanese who visit Paris annually (that seems so high!)). I had never heard of it before but was immediately fascinated, given that I love Paris and also loved Japan when I visited there. The syndrome manifests itself, according to Wikipedia, through "a number of psychiatric symptoms such as as acute delusional states, hallucinations, feelings of persecution (delusional belief of being a victim of prejudice, aggression, hostility to others), a derealization, a depersonalization, anxiety, and also psychosomatic manifestations such as dizziness, tachycardia, sweating, etc.." Wikipedia also explains that there are 4 main triggers: 1. Language barrier (most Japanese apparently don't speak French) 2. Cultural differences (Japanese society is supposedly much more polite than French society and Japanese don't pick up on certain cultural cues/behaviour) 3. Idealized image of Paris and 4. Jet Lag/Exhaustion/trying to cram too much into everyday. Apparently the syndrome affects Japanese tourists because of the special connection between Japan and Paris. As I remember from when I visited Japan in May-June 2010, French influence is everywhere there. The Tokyo Tower openly says it copied the Eiffel Tower and there is even a crepe stand at the bottom. When French - or mostly Parisian - culture is present all over your own country, the anticipation of visiting Paris must be very great.



I think it's super sad and scary that even 20 people a year feel like that in Paris. That's awful. And I hate to think that Paris is probably ruined for them forever. I doubt any of them ever go back... And I wonder what they feel like in Japan when they see images of the Eiffel Tower or walk by yet another patisserie? Will those kinds of things just always make them sad? It must be really hard. The main positive I can think of in all this is that hopefully the majority of those 6 million annual Japanese visitors to Paris really like the city.



I think it's very telling that this syndrome afflicts people visiting Paris. A. once told me, with such conviction, that he believes you can only hate someone you can also love. In some ways I think his belief is apt for Paris. Something that can make you feel so high also has the ability to make you feel so low. Paris has the (well-deserved in my opinion) reputation as being the city of cities, the city which tops all other cities - it provokes such deep emotions; and it's when deep emotions abound that things like love and hate and high and low and feeling amazing and feeling delusional come into the picture.

Sometimes I feel cliched about saying Paris is my favourite city because it seems to be so many people’s favourite city. But then I remind myself of the ending to Ernest Hemingway's memoir about Paris A Moveable Feast where he writes: “There is never any ending to Paris and the memory of each person who has lived in it differs from that of any other. We always returned to it no matter who we were or how it was changed or with what difficulties, or ease, it could be reached. Paris was always worth it..." I especially love that last line. I also like how it acknowledges that each person who lives (or really visits) there has a different perspective and that this is good (except for people who experience Paris Syndrome). I love the scene in the second to last ever episode of Sex and the City when Carrie is on the balcony of her hotel in Paris and sees the Eiffel Tower and is so so happy. That is what visiting Paris should be like for everyone. (And while Paris in some ways didn't live up to Carrie's expectations, I think if she had just gone there for a vacation as opposed to saying she was going to move there permanently, she would have liked it much more.)



In closing, I'm not sure this post really said too much except that I'm fascinated by Paris Syndrome, while sympathetic to those who suffer from it. I feel like I both get it on an abstract level and am glad I've never experienced it on a personal level. I get it that a place you've wanted to visit for so long that turns out to be not at all what you imagine could cause you to have all these psychological problems. But I also don't get it in that to me, I feel like Carrie every time I see the Eiffel Tower, even after seeing it many many times. I also feel that in a lot of ways Paris lives up to its stereotypes - especially the images of it in Japan. When I visited Japan, I recognized aspects of French culture there in a positive way, and not in an over the top way at all. There are crepes stands and patisseries all over Paris, so I think having them in Tokyo is somewhat realistic and is definitely not romanticizing Paris. I don't know. It's impossible to know why some things affect certain people in certain ways. Maybe if it hadn't been Paris something else would have caused sufferers from Paris Syndrome to experience the same type of symptoms? I wish someone (I'd love to myself one day if I could find someone to interview, but finding someone seems super hard/bordering on impossible) would interview a Paris Syndrome sufferer and ask them about everything from their thoughts about Paris pre-going there to their first symptoms to why they think Paris affected them in this way to what their feelings are about Paris now...Until then, I hope the number of sufferers went down this year, and continues to decline every year.

Exposed Brick

Last December, M. was in Montreal for a conference and she, H. and I had dinner one cold Saturday night at Figaro. Somehow we got to talking about exposed brick, and H. suggested it would be a good topic for a blog post. I agreed, wrote it down on my list of future blog topics when I got home, and am now writing it, deciding it would be good post this month since I feel like I've been noticing exposed brick everywhere recently.

In a way, my first exposure to exposed brick came in my house in Toronto because the wall of the whole back/TV room of our house is brick. It's not so much exposed, however, as original as it's just the actual old exterior wall of the house (complete with a window and a glass single frame door) which the previous owners of the house decided to keep when adding on the back room. The brick is dark and rough and while I love the backroom of my house, the brick is not at all like the more chic red or rusty coloured exposed brick that seems popular these days. I prefer that popular style but I would take the brick wall in my house over whitewashed exposed brick. I like white walls in houses but if you're going to have bricks, I think they should be their real colour and not white.

My first exposure to exposed brick (the kind we don't have in my house) came at Cloyne, this co-op L. and N. lived at our second year of Berkeley. Cloyne was on Ridge Road, on Berkeley's northside, and the biggest co-op (could house 150 people) out of this whole network of co-ops where students lived. Cloyne was known for its parties. Maybe twice a semester, it had big parties - where you had to pay to get in, there were hundreds of people, and long long lines for beer. It also had this other type of party that was maybe only once a semester called a room to room. In these parties, whoever wanted to participate would "open" their room at a designated time and serve drinks according to a theme. Cloyne had three wings - east, central and west, and each wing would be "open" at different times during the night. After all the rooms were closed, people just hung out anywhere in the house. Room to rooms were invitation only (so the people who lived at Cloyne and whoever they invited) and weren't open to the general public like the big parties. My favourite type of party at Cloyne was the Special Dinner (which was again only people who lived there plus their guests) where everyone got dressed up and drank champagne and ate good food and the dining room was lit only with candles. (In May of our second year there was also a Special Brunch, which was the same idea except it happened in the daytime, under bright sunlight, and I had to limit myself to two small glasses of champagne because I was meeting up with some people to study right after it.) Cloyne seemed so much nicer at Special Dinner - everyone was having fun and being nice to each other and I would sense a real feeling of community that I never felt at any of the other parties or any other times I was there.




At one of the room to rooms during our second year (my invitation courtesy, as always, of L.), L. and I ended up in a corner bedroom on the third floor of the west wing whose theme was tropical and who were serving drinks made with malibu rum. Corner rooms are always the best, but this one was particularly nice because one whole wall had exposed brick. If I remember correctly, only corner rooms had exposed brick at Cloyne. Despite going over to Cloyne fairly often I think that was the only room with exposed brick I saw as none of my friends' rooms had it. But I do remember that there was this aura about exposed brick at Cloyne and how those rooms were considered to be better than most of the other rooms in the house that didn't have exposed brick.

I think exposed brick looks best in the living room or the kitchen of a home (although I have to admit it did look good in Cloyne and those were bedrooms) because those rooms tend to be bigger, and because more people gather in them and it's nice to show off the brick. Like I said at the top, I've been noticing exposed brick all over these past few months. I was at Figaro the other day and for the first time really noticed how the walls in their open kitchen are exposed brick. It adds a really nice touch. This cafe near my apt here in Montreal called Entre le cafe et la plume (it opened last summer, after I had written those posts on cafes or I likely would have mentioned it there) is a great cafe (see picture below). It is very small - just one fairly small room but it's so nice. The bathrooms are so clean and bright and the whole main wall of the cafe is an exposed brick wall. Even though I don't drink coffee (and therefore can't order that there), find their chai latte nowhere near sweet enough, and find their tea way overpriced, I still go to that cafe on a somewhat regular basis just so I can enjoy the brick wall (which contributes so much to the overall ambiance).



Exposed brick can make a room feel really inviting and comfortable and provide a charming backdrop for cooking and conversations. It is definitely something that would be an added bonus in any future houses or apts in which I may live.