Halloween Witching In Paris

Believe it or not, I just celebrated my very first Halloween outing in Paris!  The French still have an on and off relationship with Halloween, which has had a bumpy enough broom ride to throw off any well meaning witch, with multiple takeoffs and crashes (like the adorable Google doodle)!

The majority of the Halloween happenings in Paris seem more geared to the resident anglo population than the French.  American and Anglo mothers have to go out of their way to arrange trick or treating for their bicultural kiddies.

One American friend who has an adorable trilingual son, (English, Italian, French) who has never experienced Halloween in the states, loves to dress up and carve pumpkins.

She said an anglo mothers club arranges with several merchants beforehand to give out trick or treat candy to the kids and even arranges an event in the Tuileries Garden.

The French  generally will just roll their eyes at the very mention of it, saying “oh that American thing”, not knowing that the origin is Irish!  The vast majority see it as another Anglo-Saxon invasion of French culture, already besieged by an overabundance of anglicised words that have dented and pocked Moliere’s language.

It’s not like the French need any more festivals, or reasons to celebrate, as they have abundantly more than in the states.  The resistance is a bias against anything to do with commercialization, which they see as widespread in American culture (true).

Rejection of  the pure commercial overtones is prominent,  except of course with the merchants, who have noticed a recent  upswing in Halloween display sales.   A spokesperson for some national grocery chains here stated that the past three years have brought in 3 times as much revenue in candy sales than in previous years. 

Even with those who shrug their shoulders in the typical French manner, a few might grudgingly concede that it may be fun for the children to dress up in disguise.   But, their has been a lot of backlash from the church and moralists .

It was the church, most notably around 2005 or so, who came down really hard in their efforts to squish what they saw as a swing towards Halloween celebrations.  Labeling it as a purely pagan celebration, which is true of its origin, they depicted it as anti Christian and to be avoided at all costs.

More extreme religious opposition here describes Halloween as a devil’s festival, the product of savage capitalism from the other side of the Atlantic with the intent to corrupt French youth.   Hollywood and Disneyland combined to drain French pocketbooks with American satanic drivel.

There is certainly seen a sense of competitiveness between Halloween and the national holiday of Toussaints,  the following day, where French families flock to cemeteries to adorn graves with flowers.   French bishops feel the focus should be on being able to name Christian saints and in the solemn  remembrance of the dead, rather than witches, skeletons  and devils.

Sadly, there is a grain of truth in that a lot of folks here, who are marginalized Catholics in name only, with the exception of Easter and Christmas, can’t tell you the meaning of Ascension, Pentecost , Assumption or All Saints, which are all national bank holidays.

Moralists present their well stated concerns to French parents about the necessity of presenting impressionable children with the violence of “tricking” and “frightening” in a world where real violence is now an everyday occurrence and increasing reality.

Of course you have to understand that from an outsiders point of view, Halloween might be seen as such, rather than the farcical fun nature that we Americans and other Anglos grew up with.

I have to give the credit to my daughter, Aimée, seen in her orange wig, for pushing me out on my broom. Having grown up with my pervasive  mystical nature, certainly more grounded in traditional Christianity, than any overt paganism, except my celebrations of seasonal solstices, she likes to tease me about being a “witch”, though distinctly benevolent to the core.

Perhaps more Druidic in nature, if I had to develop my own instinctive analogies.  Maybe a prototypical representation of Gaelic celtic roots that blends the visible world with the invisible and sees the divinity in nature, as do our Native Americans as well.

After all, it was in Ireland that people started All Hallow’s  Eve which is a Christianized version of the Celtic celebration of Samhain.  Samhain was to mark the end of the harvest season and the beginning of the darker period of the year or winter.

They carved out large turnips as lanterns and it was only after the pumpkin, native to the Americas was brought over, that someone decided it was much easier to carve pumpkins than turnips!   Turnips would have never flown with the French, because the word turnip in French, “navet” can also mean a “flop without taste”.

Not having on hand any fundamental necessities of a witch, other than a French broom, I had to start out at a costume boutique, just off the Grand Boulevards, which to my surprise was absolutely packed last Wednesday to the degree that there was a line waiting to get in!

My daughter found the perfect hat, wig and broom for her, but we decided to head towards the oldest costume store in Paris for me, off Blvd Strasbourg.  There I found a really great  authentic looking stick broom, pointed hat and the ultimate spider gloves that any witch would covet in a second with dangling spiders!

Halloween morning, my daughter who likes to drink turkish coffee, noticed a very propitious settling of coffee grounds in her cup that did indeed look like a profile of a witch!  What a perfect  Halloween omen!

After a lovely dinner of rouget barbet fish on a bed of home-made tapenade, and Picpoul de Pinet white wine from near Narbonne, I was ready to fly!  The hardest part was doing the make up, which not being at all creative in that manner, I ended up looking more like a cheap Rue Saint Denis street walker than “witchy”.

Having never gone out on the streets of Paris disguised as anything, I have to admit I felt rather silly and just wasn’t prepared for all the attention.  It was 9:45 pm by the time we started out and as soon as we crossed the street to get the metro, people hanging out the windows were pointing and yelling, especially when my daughter’s hat flew off her head into the gutter, which fortunately was dry and she was able to retrieve before it flew again under a passing car.

It was funny how people were trying hard not to rudely stare at us, with only furtive occasional glimpses, as we were the only ones in the car on Line 4 disguised for Halloween.  Transferring to Line 6, there were at least a clown and a zombie in sight, so we didn’t feel completely out of place.

Getting out at Passy metro stop, we were heading to a barge parked on the Seine, the River King, that was having a huge Halloween party.  Walking down quai President Kennedy, proved to be a little scary as several young folks jumped in our faces to say “boo” or extend their rowdy Halloween greetings, which caught me off guard, being the timid witch that I am!

After waiting in line, a man came out to say that we wouldn’t make it on the boat, so with that we headed toward the Bir Hakeim bridge where I like to take photographs of the Seine, barges and Eiffel Tower.  On the way back, it was 11 o’clock and after a few more startling loud remarks in our direction, we made it to the curved semi circle of the bridge where only a few tourists were taking photos, two of which asked if we would pose with them.

Flight fatigue was setting in for this witch by this time, and we decided to ditch going to the next planned adventure on Canal Saint Martin, which would have entailed a long trip over.  The Passy subway station is above ground and has pretty old fashion lamp lanterns glowing eerily on steps leading up to the platforms.

There we encountered a large group of friendly international students intent on having their photo taken with us as well as another couple waiting on the train.  By the time I made it back on Line 4, my adorable stick broom broke, a definite omen for any witch to call it a night and head home!

I was so distraught over my broom, I hardly noticed the banging on the subway windows calling attention to my get up.  The last incidents to announce that we better hurry home before turning into the proverbial pumpkins, was when  getting off the subway train a gust of wind tunneled in knocking off both of our hats.

Mine, I recovered blocked by the turnstile, but unfortunately my daughter’s flew down on the rails. After a meager attempt to fish it out with her broom, she had to resign to leave it behind in hopes that at least the rats would enjoy carrying it off to add to their dark nests.

So much for my first Parisian Halloween outing!   All it will take is a little glue, for my broom to be repaired and in fine shape for another Hallows Eve flight in this beautiful city of lights!