That photo was taken long after Hugo lived here. He was just 30 years old when he moved to the vast apartment upstairs, a workaholic with a wife and four small children, already a literary luminary of the Romantic age, an established poet, playwright, essayist and novelist.

What could be more exemplary of that Romantic era in France and of Hugo’s brilliance as a storyteller than the bestselling novel that he published a year before the move: Notre-Dame de Paris. The French title immediately signaled that the main character in this page-turner would be the battered cathedral in the historic heart of the capital. But the English publisher didn’t think that Gothic enough for a foreign audience, so it made poor, maligned Quasimodo the titular protagonist: The Hunchback of Notre-Dame.

Who can forget that high-drama scene-for-the-ages in which the beautiful, seductive Esmeralda finds the heart and the courage to give the thirsty, pilloried hunchbacked bellringer a drink of water, as Notre-Dame Cathedral looms in the background!

Certainly not I as I sit by the fountain in the courtyard café sipping a flat white. Yes, they’ve got flat white on the menu. Café au lait be damned! Flat white—now there’s a bestselling term in the literature of new cafés in Paris. Still, Paris it is. A lovely courtyard in the Marais. Dress the lovely parisiennes at the next table in bangles, scarve and flowing diaphanous skirts and any of them could play Esmeralda. Cue the goat.

Such a beautiful morning to experience Papapa. Seriously. Not the best place to contemplate medieval misery today, but maybe I’ll go upstairs to visit the Hugo’s apartment once I’ve finished my flat white, to imagine him looking down into the courtyard. Maybe to watch a mistress walk by. Or maybe, just maybe, in literary mode, to look down to this very fountain as he undertook a new project: exploring the more contemporary misery and revolt to which he was personally witness. That was toward the end of his stay, though the 5-volume work wouldn’t reach shelves until 1862: Les Misérables, a title that immediately draws attention to the miserable and the wretched of the world. Might as well just call it that in English.

Hugo explored numerous subjects in his work, often with great emotion, drama and sentimentality, yet his reputation soared as a republican activist, sympathetic to the downtrodden, un écrivain engagé, as we say in French, a socially committed writer. Unlike the present one. For how can I—how can anyone—do anything but ♥ Paris in this lovely courtyard café. Papapa is a much mellower name for a café serving a flat white in the Marais than Les Misérables, don’t you think? (There’s already café named Le Quasimodo Notre-Dame by the cathedral.)

Here, on this beautiful September morning, all seems right in the world. Every glance, every exchange, every sip, every bite (it’s the press opening and I’m trying everything on the menu) reminds me that I ♥ Paris, where City Hall’s fights for social justice by promoting the freedom for cyclists and scootists (pedestrians be damned!) and takes seriously its management of heritage sites by thoughtfully doling out concessions for cafés in the courtyards of city-operated museums. Call it a flat white social conscience.

Hence the 6-year concession for this café to Les Editions Délicieuses, a company operated by Damien and Caroline Nobile. Lovely people with good business acumen. I chatted with Damien. He used to work in finance, Caroline in fashion, in New York, before returning to Paris twenty years ago and transitioning into the event-catering and, more recently, courtyard café business.

Damien and Caroline aren’t only good at operating cafés serving pleasing fare and flat whites, they’re also good at naming their establishments. They started out with Fika, the sweet little café at the Swedish Institute in another Marais courtyard. Fika is a Swedish term for a coffee break. Now there’s Papapa. This fall they’ll take over the greenhouse café and tea room at the Musée de la Vie Romantique in the 9th arrondissement, the house-museum that speaks of music, life and literature during the Romantic area. It will be called Cornelia, the name of both the mother and daughter of the house’s first occupant. Then next spring they’ll take over the café concession at Balzac’s House in the 16th arrondissement, rebranding it Honoré. That was Balzac’s first name. Endearing names for endearing places. Altogether, they offer literary travelers pleasing fikas. Or think of it as a wonderful opportunity to learn about 19th-century literature, music and art during your flat white tour of Paris. Café au lait be damned!

Place des Vosges / Place Royale

Sorry, I got distracted by my conversation with Damien. Where was I? Oh yes, the Place des Vosges. Can you think of an adjective to describe it?

Technically, Hugo didn’t live on the Place des Vosges. He lived on the Place Royale. That was the square’s name before the Revolution of 1789. In 1800, after the blood had dried and Napoleon became top dog, it was renamed the Place des Vosges to honor the department or subregion in eastern France for being an early adopter of the Revolution. But once a king returned to the throne after the fall of Emperor Napoleon, the square again became the Place Royale (Hugo lived here in the time of King Louis-Philippe), then eventually Place des Vosges again with the affirmation of France’s Third Republic.

Though royal during Hugo’s residence, the neighborhood’s aristocratic glory days were long gone by the time he arrived. By then, the former noble mansion of the early 17th century where he lived, one of 36 such mansions on the square, had been divided into fourteen rental apartments. The Marais was no longer so fashionable, and its decline would continue for another 130 years. Nevertheless, the square remained a rather decent place to live in the 1830s and 1840s, when Hugo’s celebrity and engagement were on the rise. And always that (add your adjective) view.

Whether Victor Hugo thought of this as the Place Royale or followed his republican conscience in thinking of it as the Place des Vosges, I don’t know. Honestly, I don’t know that much about the man. But from what I’ve read—Wikipedia, Notre-Dame de Paris, Les Misérables, and his poem Demain, dès l’aube (Tomorrow, at dawn) about living with the grief of the death by drowning of his 19-year-old daughter Léopoldine—from what I’ve read, he had an extraordinary life, imagination and strength of character, to which you can add love life if you’d care to look further into that.

Maison Victor Hugo, the Museum

His large apartment on the third floor (2e étage) of what become a city-owned building opened as a museum dedicated to him in 1903. I haven’t been there in a while so I might just take a peek after I’ve finished the flat white and this article. As I recall, the apartment is not as he lived in it for 16 years. Instead, the Maison Victor Hugo, as it’s called, presents a mix of artwork by and about the writer and his works, along with wallpaper, curtains and furnishings that evoke or come from other places and other periods in his long life.

One of those places was the Anglo-Norman or Channel Island of Guernsey, where he, a literary warrior for democracy and social justice, lived in exile from France’s Second Empire from 1855 to 1870. Doesn’t quite have the same ring as becoming a Florida resident to escape taxes in New York and New Jersey, but to each his Guernsey. That era is represented here by the drawing room of Chinese inspiration and the dining room of medieval inspiration, both of which he created for his mistress’s house at Guernsey. Naturally, she joined him in exile. Apparently, one can have a social conscience, enjoy one’s comforts and be a talented decorator. Maybe even play pickleball for all I now.

The museum’s final room presents a reconstitution, more or less, of his bedroom in the 16th arrondissement where he died at the age of 83 in 1885. Remember that scene from Les Misérables when Cosette reaches Jean Valjean at his deathbed and he manages to breath “Dying is nothing; it’s terrible not to live,” proof that social and political engagement requires a heavy dose of melodrama? Among Hugo’s own last words were these, written three days before he took his last breath: Aimer, c’est agir, To love is to act. When I try to contemplate what that might mean while sitting alone with a flat white in this lovely setting of the café courtyard, all that comes to mind is that it sounds like the name of a cocktail, to be listed alongside Sex on the Beach, Salty Dog and Penicillin. Perhaps I’m being cynical because I now recall learning somehow that one week after Hugo’s death, a tremendous funeral procession attended by perhaps two million people led his remains to the Pantheon. They weren’t just there to mourn a writer but a man who had become an activist for social justice and the values of a secular republic. That is what we should all contemplate at Papapa.

Just kidding! How can anyone think of social justice while ♥ing Paris with a flat white? Honestly, has anyone ever sat down with a flat white in Paris with a social conscience that goes beyond “I deserve this” or “Wait, let me take a picture first”? Come to think of it, flat white may itself be a form of international social conscience, especially when everyone, irrespective of race, color, creed or other variances, gets a ♥ or a🌿on top. Café au lait be damned!

In addition to his 15 years of exile on the Anglo-Norman island of Guernsey, off the coast of Normandy, Hugo had other visits and residences in the region, not to mention that Léopoldine drowned in the Seine in Normandy. Hugo’s Normandy connections drew Damien and Caroline Nobiles to honor that region in creating their menu for a light lunch, a savory snack and pleasing pastries, cookies and biscuits. On the savory side, baked camembert, a Guernsey bean jar, crab-and-apple on buttered brioche and, on weekends, oysters from the Chausey Islands. On the sweet side, pear douillon, mirliton, a caramel-topped cookie and a seasonal fig tart. Butter is branded Isigny Sainte-Mère. Then there’s the wink-wink of the flat white on the coffee menu, reminding us that none of this actually has anything to do with Victor Hugo. All to be enjoyed within gurgling distance of the charming little fountain or inside by the looming photo of Papapa himself.

You can enjoy the lovely flat whiteness of the café without entering the museum. Just say “Bonjour” to the guard as you pass under the arcade into the courtyard. But maybe your conscience will bother you if you’ve come this far without at least going up for the view. As encouragement, entrance to the Victor Hugo House is normally free. As discouragement, there’s currently an admission fee of 11€ (9€ for students 18-26, free for under 18) until Nov. 22, though that gives access to both the permanent collection on the third floor and the temporary exhibition “Hugo and Architecture” on the second—yes, another interest of the great man.

On its own, a Guernsey bean jar doesn’t help me understand what made Hugo a fabulous storyteller, a multi-talented creator, a social committed writer and a hero in the fight for freedom and democracy. So I’ve decided that the time has now come to leave this loveliest of lovely courtyards to go upstairs to contemplate the fellow and ponder what it means to have a social conscience, even if only out of flat white guilt.

© 2026, Gary Lee Kraut

The post Paris Café Culture: Victor Hugo and My Flat White Social Conscience appeared first on France Revisited - Life in Paris, Travel in France.

In an area that was once a hub of silver- and goldsmith works in Paris in the 19th century and beyond, only Lapparra maintains the tradition of creation and high craftsmen that are the duel hallmarks of the field—doing so at the same address since its founding in 1893.

While most other shops offering such high-end work in Paris are located in the 8th and 1st arrondissements, Lapparra is easily missed among the schlock jewelry shops that define commerce on this stretch of rue du Temple.

The shop feels as out of time as it does out of place. Various pieces may have an echo of Napoleon’s Josephine or of a Tsar or of Arabian night, and there might be a hint of Art Deco or of Art Nouveau or of your grandmother’s cutlery, however Lapparra doesn’t set out to create period pieces but rather to uphold classic spirit of the exacting marriage of high design and fine craftsmanship.

Olivier Gaube du Gers is the man behind the 21st-century revival of Lapparra. He bought the company in 1998 with the intent of reaffirming both the artistry and savoir faire of its creations.

“We aren’t only artists,” he says, “we want to maintain the trades that allow that artistry to be expressed.”

Wearing his signature bowtie and dandy smile, Mr. Gaube du Gers appears as at ease among the tapping, turning, firing, and precision pointing of his workshop as he does when presenting the final product to demanding buyers, or at least when showing those products to journalists.

Silver is the primary material used at Lapparra, but gold, crystal, porcelain, precious stones, and bronze are also employed here to make vases, cutlery, candlesticks and candelabras, dishware, trophies, and other ornamental pieces. Lapparra’s website shows some of the exquisite creations of silverware, tableware and decorative accessories.

Lapparra’s creations are designed to grace tables but its most publicly viewed works are the trophies lifted and embraced by winners of prestigious sporting events in France: Roland Garros (the French Open tennis tournament), the Le Mans 24-hour auto race, and the Grand Prix de l’Arc de Triomphe horserace, among others.

The famous Roland Garros salad bowl trophy, so frequently kissed in recent years by Rafael Nadal, was created by Lapparra in 1981. Under Mr. Gaube du Gers’ stewardship Lapparra’s workshop has also produced the exact copy of the bowl that’s used for creating the tournament draw and it continues to produce the exact reduced-size versions of the trophies that the winners take home.

Lapparra is by far the lesser known of the top-of-the-line smithing houses in its field in France. Another smithing house that was also founded in the Marais (in 1820) and has since moved into chicer quarters, isPuirforcat, which has its showroom at 48 avenue Gabriel in the 8th arrondissement and now belongs to Hermes.

Closer to Mr. Gaube du Gers’ heart is the grand old sliver- and goldsmith house Odiot, founded in 1690. Not only did Mr. Gaube du Gers get his start in the business of fine tableware and decorative accessories at Odiot but Odiot once belonged to him, and before him his father.

Mr. Gaube du Gers the elder had purchased that venerable house in 1973 and, in 1974 he asked his son, otherwise schooled as an architect, to come work with him for a short time. That short time turned into a lifelong calling, with Mr. Gaube du Gers eventually taking over Odiot on his father’s death. A series of events, including a devastating robbery at Odiot’s showroom by the Madeleine in 1993 and the opening of the Odiot’s capital to investors, led to Mr. Gaube du Gers’ departure from the company in 1996.

(Odiot now belongs to the holding company Investors in Private Equity (IPE) via the Compagnie Européene de Luxe et Traditions (CELT). The Odiot shop is located at 7 place de la Madeleine in the 8th arrondissement.)

After a brief stint as artistic director at Daum, the luxury crystal maker, Mr. Gaube du Gers seized on the opportunity to return to his core interests in artistry and craftsmanship with the purchase of Lapparra in 1998.

Puirforcat and Odiot naturally have a more worldwide presence through shops in major capitals. Nevertheless, 70% of Lapparra’s production is exported. In 2005 Lapparra received the prize for “best creativity” by the French Exporters Club.

Lapparra, 157 rue du Temple, 3rd arrondissement. Tel 01 42 72 16 20. www.lapparra.com. You may not immediately notice the sign for Lapparra but will surely see the sign ORFEVRE, meaning goldsmith/silversmith, over the entrance at the back of the courtyard. While Lapparra’s showroom/shop is open to the public, this is largely a house for connoisseurs and clients of prestige. Feel free to stop by, but if interested in customized work it’s best to call ahead to make an appointment either by calling ahead or through the contact form on their website.

© 2010, Gary Lee Kraut

The post Luxury Silversmith Maintains Tradition of French Savoir-Faire in the Northern Marais appeared first on France Revisited - Life in Paris, Travel in France.

Catherine de Beauvais was a premier lady in waiting and confidante to Anne of Austria, Louis XIV’s mother and regent during his minority. Some historians claim the queen mother put Catherine up to a seductive encounter in the stairwell of the Louvre. Catherine was about 40, Louis 16. Their age difference and the fact that Catherine is said to have been an unattractive but hot-blooded woman with a bad eye (the court nicknamed her Cateau la Bornesse, One-Eye Catty) only make the story that much more plausible. In contemporary terms we would call this the encounter of a winner of American Idol with someone quickly eliminated from Cougars and Kittens.

Nowadays a parent can get arrested for being so devoted to a boy’s needs. But if Anne had indeed been pulling the strings then she may have had the lofty desire to keep the young king from getting involved with the wrong sort of kitten, or perhaps to simply test the boy’s manhood. Modern rumor-mongers would note that the king was at the time rather dubiously fond of ballet.

Whatever the truth, Catherine’s devotion to Anne earned Catherine and her understanding husband Pierre elevation to the status of baroness and baron de Beauvais, along with funds sufficient enough that they could join the 17th-century carriage-set by building a mansion in the Marais.

* * *

Anyway, as I was saying, I was headed there the other day to take some pictures of Catherine’s house, when, well, you know how it goes, you set out to see a sight on the right side of the street but something on the left side of the street catches your eye. In this case it was the tiles in the window of Villa Paris and a view of Olivier Mangnez, the shop owner, at his drafting board.

Villa Paris isn’t a tile shop per se but rather Olivier Mangnez’s showroom. He specializes in old-fashion, artisan-made tiles of terracotta, stone, and enamel, including collections of delft, azulejos, marble marquetry, mosaics, and others. They are made à l’ancienne in the countries where the individual styles originated or where bygone traditions of production are maintained: France, Portugal, Spain, Italy, Belgium, Morocco. Though numerous examples can be seen in the showroom, Villa Paris isn’t actually a place for browsing but for playing with ideas and making informed choices. Most of Mr. Mangnez’s visitors are either decorators seeking a particular style or homeowners seeking high-quality, customized work for a specific space.

In addition to projects throughout France, Mr. Mangnez works with decorators involved in high-end projects overseas. His American credentials include tiles for a Cuban-style home in Miami, terracotta in Boston, and mosaic in New York. He has also worked with Americans decorating their Paris pied-à-terres.

* * *

Rue François Miron, the street on which Villa Paris is located, is a wonderful cross-section of the charms of Paris, both for its 17th- and 18th-century buildings and for storefront activities. On a relatively short street high, you’ll find, reading start to finish, i.e. from behind Hôtel de Ville/City Hall to rue de Rivoli: a little-visited church, some pretty wrought iron, a hip café-bar, two half-timbered buildings (a rarity in Paris), a swinger’s club (common in Paris), a sleepy local café that you know someone is dying to turn chic and international, an old spice shop, a pretty bakery, several restaurants, Villa Paris, the Hôtel de Beauvais, a historical society, a Scottish pub, a cross-street where you can get run over, and a row of picture-perfect food shops. It’s enough to make you want to buy an apartment right away on that very street and ask Olivier Mangnez to create a mosaic for your bathroom, design marble marquetry for your entrance, and pose tiles showing old food trades in your kitchen!

Though now an attractive side-street, rue François Miron is in fact the historical road into the heart of Paris from the west, paved when this was the entrance to the Roman city and heavily trafficked with medieval commerce entering Paris via the barrier by the Bastille. (The street was eventually bypassed with the development in the 19th century of rue de Rivoli). In the 17th century Catherine and Pierre’s house was so well situated to watch the traffic entering the city that in 1660, six year after Catherine’s alleged moment in the Sun King (or vice versa), Anne of Austria again honored her loyalty by choosing that balcony as the place from which to witness, along with an A-list of guests, the entrance of Louis XIV and his cousin-bride Maria Teresa into Paris.

The Hôtel de Beauvais, one of the last mansions in the Marais to have been completely renovated (completed in 2003), is now occupied by the Court of Appeals for administrative matters, but the courtyard can be visited upon innocent smile to the guard. You’ll notice the ram and lion heads above the ground floor; the ram (belier) makes reference to Catherine’s maiden name, Bellier. It’s best to ignore the fact that Catherine died at 75 under the weight of debt, forgotten (if ever truly known) by the king, and instead to think of her as she was known to her peers: a mature, hot-blooded baroness, willing to pay for it.

A plaque in the courtyard indicates that 7-year-old Mozart stayed here (at the time residence of the ambassador from Bavaria) while in Paris for several months in 1763, during which he was taken to Versailles to wow the Court of Louis XV.

I meant to take pictures of the Hôtel de Beauvais to show some details but by the time I left Villa Paris the sun had set and it was already closed. The Scottish pub a few doors down was just coming alive.

Villa Paris, 31 rue François Miron, 4^th arr. Tel. 01 42 74 07 05. E-mail villa-paris@cegetel.net. Site www.villa-paris.com. Open Mon.-Fri. 10am-1pm and 2:30pm-6:30pm.

© 2007 by Gary Lee Kraut

The post Fancy Tiles and the King’s Virginity appeared first on France Revisited - Life in Paris, Travel in France.