I may be stretching the bounds of miscellaneous here, but I ran across a
bicycle-related passage last night and thought maybe someone else might
enjoy as much as I did the description of a city of joyful people on
bikes. It's from the journalist A.J. Liebling's description of Paris after
the liberation:
"For the first time in my life and probably the last, I have lived for a
week in a great city where everybody is happy. Moreover, since this city
is Paris, everybody makes this euphoria manifest. To drive along the
boulevards in a jeep is like walking into some as yet unmade René Clair
film, with hundreds of bicyclists coming toward you in a stream that
divides before the jeep just when you feel sure that a collision is
imminent. Among the bicyclists there are pretty girls, their hair dressed
high on their heads in what seems to be the current mode here. These girls
show legs of a length and slimness and firmness and brownness never
associated with French womanhood. Food restrictions and the amount of
bicycling that is necessary in getting around in a big city without any
other means of transportation have endowed these girls with the best
figures in the world, which they will doubtless be glad to trade in for
three square meals, plentiful supplies of chocolate, and a seat in the
family Citroën as soon as the situation becomes more normal. There are
handsome young matrons with children mounted behind them on their bikes,
and there are husky young workmen, stubby little employés de bureau in
striped pants, and old professors in wing collars and chin whiskers, all
of them smiling and all of them lifting their right hands from the
handlebars as they go past. The most frequently repeated phrase of the
week is 'Enfin on respire.' (At last, one breathes!)"
I'm sure Liebling didn't have a double meaning in mind for that last bit,
but it's not something I'll be saying as I maneuver through rush-hour
traffic this morning.
--
Paul Turner