The Jewish Section

It is a sad state of affairs that is highlighted as one walks into the Paris Musée d’art et d’histoire du Judaïsme: bullet-proof glass, a metal detector, and multiple locked doors to pass through. 

Using visual art and objects and also audio, this museum, housed in an ornate 17th century building, the Hôtel of Saint Aignan, tells stories of the roots of the Jewish religion and peoples, including various traditions and practices in different Jewish communities, and a variety of interesting life stories (especially from communities in France and other parts of western Europe), up to the European community’s near-complete decimation by the Nazis.

Some of the most impressive gems here were the story of Gracia Nasi, a Portuguese Marrano Jew (forced to convert to Christianity) who sought to help other oppressed Jews and to take action–via an embargo!–against Spain; a late 19th century sukkah made of wood and beautifully painted; a beautifully arranged display of books for study and praryer; and a huge litter of ancient gravestones excavated from various neighborhoods in Paris.

AM notes that she had never been made to feel quite so unwelcome in a museum, down to what MM joked was the “expulsion of the Jews at [rather than in] 5:50,” when we were unceremoniously rushed out of the building at least 10 minutes before the posted closing time.

We went from this millennial trip to the mundane as we walked through the Marais, the Jewish Quarter, eying the kosher restaurants and delicatessens.

Probably most profound in this area was our earlier-in-the-day stop at the Deportation Memorial, just below Notre Dame. Dedicated in the 60s and with a distinctly 60s artistic bent, this oppressively close space contains lights for the many deportees (Jewish and otherwise) and a series of beautiful quotations, including this favorite:

I dreamed so strongly about you — I walked so much, talked so much, loved your shadow so much, that there is nothing left of you. the only thing left is the shadow between shadows, the one that will come back to mind.

– Robert Desnos, Ensoleillée