Paris in Six Queer Acts
Text and photos © Gry Ellebjerg
I confess. Paris is my favorite on The Pink Road. I call her Europe's cream cake. Everything is art, class and culture mixed with liberty, equality and fraternity. It's two energies I adore. Radical activism. Radical Beauty. As a lesbian, our history in Paris is a never ending story and we love those.
SCENE I The Flirting
Lesbian flirting is a dance you have to learn. You don't just look at someone and make her feel like a million dollars. First you have to make eye contact at least three times. If you are brave and roll your own cigarettes, you can look at her while you lick the paper. In case both of you have met each other's eyes three times, you are good to go. If it sometimes feels like nobody is looking at you in a lesbian bar – chill, they are.
They just show it in code. E and I were hanging out at BAR LES AIMANT.E.S talking about flirting when all of a sudden, a woman comes to our table with a glass of beer and gives it to E. “This is for you, from a lady who doesn’t want to reveal who she is.” With that line she exits. I'm thinking to myself, “are we on TV? Is someone taking the piss or is this in fact a master move?” Now we'll spend the rest of the night wondering who this person is. We never found out.
SCENE II The Practical Arrangements
I have never seen a solution as clever as Alice B. Toklas' gravestone. She was married to Gertrude Stein for 39 years. (Queers never wait for permission to get married.) Long gone, they are still one of the world's most famous lesbian couples. When Gertrude Stein died, she got a gravestone with her name in gold. Alice did not want to take any attention away from Gertrude. She considered her a genius who should shine in her own light. At the same time, Alice wanted to rest next to her.
Her solution: she had her name put in gold on the other side of the gravestone. When I first read about it, I thought, "how typical." The suppressed wife could not even be on the front. To my surprise, when I visited their grave, I could see what she did. She got her own spotlight. By letting Gertrude shine on one side, she shines on the other. While Gertrude only had her name on her side, Alice had her full name: San Francisco April 30 1877, Paris March 7 1967, all in gold. Radical Genius! They are both resting side by side at Père Lachaise Cemetery, division 94, in Paris.
SCENE III Finding Out
"What's your pronoun?" I was at the bar at Cabaret des Merveilles. I thought the answer was obvious. I felt a bit weird about having to say "woman," but soon realized it was out of courtesy, not to take anything for granted. When I returned the question, they paused for a moment before answering, "I don't know." We both burst out laughing. The answer seemed as unexpected to them as it was to me.
SCENE IV The Statements
Two friends are having a drink in a lesbian bar. On his bucket list was to visit a lesbian bar and drink as many drinks as he could.
The bar La Mutinerie.
MAN
(when asked why he studied in Italy)
Europe is the last free resort in the world.
WOMAN
Have you seen a film about the gender apartheid against women in Iran?
MAN
I don’t need to see a film about what I have lived and witnessed.
SCENE V The Confidence
On the Metro
ME
You have amazing glasses!
SHE
I know!
ME
That was the best answer I’ve ever heard. Can I quote you?
SHE
Yes. (giving a modest smile as she put on her headphones and started writing down some notes)
SCENE VI The Man Who Never Stopped Being in Love
A few meters from the house where Victor Hugo lived, a photographer was selling black and white prints of ballerinas. We started talking about Paris. I heard myself saying: “How do you explain that I've only been in Paris for ten days, yet it feels like ten years? I live here now.” The man had come to Paris as a tourist in 1970. Like me, he felt at home instantly. He had never lived in another city since. "I read an article in National Geographic about Paris," he said. "You can be alone in Paris, but you are never lonely.”
