"After four months of renovation, the catacombs have reopened to
chill the bones of visitors once again. Lisa Guerard invites us to
discover the most macabre site in Paris.
'Stop! This is the Empire of Death', the sign in French declares as
you walk into the catacomb's ossuary. Being easily sacred, I've
never been one to go into the haunted house at the fun fair or
watch horror movies, so I was quite surprised to find myself about
to walk into dark tunnels filled with millions of skeletal remains.
Yet, Parisian death, as in many forms of Parisian life, has been
made into an art form in these dank subterranean passages.
Throughout the 1.7 km walk, skulls, tibias and femurs are stacked
in amazingly neat symmetric patterns creating thick, gruesome
walls. The unexpected and uncontrollable sense of death has been
removed here - all is in perfect order - so the atmosphere is more
reminiscent of an eerie, and rather fantastic, art installation
than of ghosts, ghouls and horror.
In the 18th century, Paris had serious problems with overflowing
cemeteries and the consequential disease outbreaks. In 1785 disused
stone quarries were converted into catacombs to help remedy the
situation. At night, the remains of these unsanitary cemeteries
were exhumed and transported to the catacombs at Denfert-Rochereau.
This process continued on until 1860, when finally, the remains of
around 6 million Parisians were laid to rest there.
Nowadays, while making your way though the passages, the new
regular lighting allows you to see not only the millions of skulls
and bones but also the plaques indicating which cemetery they came
from, and when they arrived in the catacombs. On stone tablets,
crypts and tombs there are philosophical quotations in Latin and
French to remind that life is short and death is inevitable: "Happy
is he who always has the hour of his death before his eyes and is
ready to die every day."
The dead have not been the only ones to lay claim to these
underground warrens. Although located mainly in the 13th and 14th
arrondissements, there have been catacombs throughout Paris that
have been put to various uses. Charles X had subterranean parties
in the catacombs just before the 1830 revolution, Balzac apparently
escaped his creditors through them, and the French Resistance used
them as hideouts in World War II. Since the 1980s, 'cataphiles' -
or people who like to hang out in catacombs - have been renowned
for finding obscure entrances into the tunnels and having illicit
parties.
Back at Denfert-Rochereau and 25 metres underground, street signs
indicate the exact equivalents overhead, yet this macabre walk
seemed a million miles away from the hubbub of Paris above. Going
deeper into the catacombs, the ceilings get damper, and footsteps
are punctuated by the sound of dripping water. In the quiet, still
gloom, surrounded by human remains, the atmosphere felt strangely
calming. As the ossuary came to an end with the sign 'Non Metuit
Mortem', I realized that rather than quaking throughout this
subterranean journey, my afternoon with the dead had been rather
enjoyable. "
