Mention Paris, and people from around the world immediately conjure a mental image of the Eiffel Tower. Every year, 7 million visitors buy tickets to reach its upper levels where they can enjoy a breathtaking view of the ancient capital. Back in 1887, however, as construction of the monument was getting underway, La Tour de 300 mètres (its original name) had many critics. Among this unhappy crowd were numerous celebrities of the day who felt that Paris was on the cusp of complete disfigurement.
Within a month after construction began, a letter of protest appeared on the front page of Le Temps, one of the most important daily papers in Paris at the time. The missive was addressed to Adolphe Alphand, le directeur des travaux de la ville de Paris and curator of the 1889 World’s Fair, and signed by close to 50 prominent artists of the Belle Epoque, including:
- The architect, Charles Garnier, who designed the opulent Paris Opera House.
- The novelist and playwright, Alexander Dumas fils, not to be confused with his famous father who wrote The Three Musketeers.
- The poet, Sully Prudhomme, who won the first Nobel Prize for Literature.
- The painter and sculptor, Ernest Meissonier, famous for his military portrayals.
- The composer, Charles Gounod, whose opera Faust remains popular to this day.
- The author, Guy de Maupassant, celebrated master of the short story.
The Letter of Protest
À monsieur Alphand,
To Monsieur Alphand,
Monsieur et cher compatriote,
My Dear Sir and Countryman,
Nous venons, écrivains, peintres, sculpteurs, architectes, amateurs passionnés de la beauté jusqu’ici intacte de Paris, protester de toutes nos forces, de toute notre indignation, au nom du goût français méconnu, au nom de l’art et de l’histoire français menacés, contre l’érection, en plein cœur de notre capitale, de l’inutile et monstrueuse tour Eiffel, que la malignité publique, souvent empreinte de bon sens et d’esprit de justice, a déjà baptisée du nom de « tour de Babel ».
We are coming, writers, painters, sculptors, architects, lovers of the thus far unscathed beauty of Paris, to protest with all our might, all our indignation, in the name of misunderstood French taste, in the name of art and France’s threatened history, against the erection, in the heart of our capital, of the useless and monstrous Eiffel Tower that public malice, often suffused with good sense and just spirit, has already baptized the “Tower of Babel”.
Sans tomber dans l’exaltation du chauvinisme, nous avons le droit de proclamer bien haut que Paris est la ville sans rivale dans le monde. Au-dessus de ses rues, de ses boulevards élargis, le long de ses quais admirables, du milieu de ses magnifiques promenades, surgissent les plus nobles monuments que le génie humain ait enfantés. L’âme de la France, créatrice de chefs-d’œuvre, resplendit parmi cette floraison auguste de pierre. L’Italie, l’Allemagne, les Flandres, si fières à juste titre de leur héritage artistique, ne possèdent rien qui soit comparable au nôtre, et de tous les coins de l’univers Paris attire les curiosités et les admirations. Allons-nous donc laisser profaner tout cela ?
Without becoming overly chauvinistic, we have the right to loudly proclaim that Paris is a city without rival in the world. Above its streets, its broad boulevards, along its admirable quays, and magnificent promenades, emerge the noblest monuments that human genius ever birthed. The soul of France, creator of masterpieces, sparkles within this majestic affluence of stone. Italy, Germany, and Flanders, justly proud of their artistic heritage, possess nothing comparable to our own, and from all corners of the universe, Paris attracts interest and admiration. Are we going to therefore allow all this to be desecrated?
La ville de Paris va-t-elle donc s’associer plus longtemps aux baroques, aux mercantiles imaginations d’un constructeur de machines, pour s’enlaidir irréparablement et se déshonorer ? Car la tour Eiffel, dont la commerciale Amérique elle-même ne voudrait pas, c’est, n’en doutez point, le déshonneur de Paris. Chacun sent, chacun le dit, chacun s’en afflige profondément, et nous ne sommes qu’un faible écho de l’opinion universelle, si légitimement alarmée. Enfin, lorsque les étrangers viendront visiter notre Exposition, ils s’écrieront, étonnés : « Quoi ? C’est cette horreur que les Français ont trouvée pour nous donner une idée de leur goût si fort vanté ? » Et ils auront raison de se moquer de nous, parce que le Paris des gothiques sublimes, le Paris de Jean Goujon, de Germain Pilon, de Puget, de Rude, de Barye, etc., sera devenu le Paris de Monsieur Eiffel.
Is the city of Paris, henceforth, going to associate itself even longer with oddities, with the money-making imaginations of a machine builder, irreparably deforming and dishonoring itself? Because the Eiffel Tower, which even commercial America herself wouldn’t want, is, without doubt, the disgrace of Paris. Everyone senses it, everyone says it, everyone is deeply upset about it, and we are only a weak echo of universal opinion, so legitimately alarmed. Finally, when foreigners come to visit our Exposition, they will cry out in astonishment: “What? This is that horror that the French came up with to give us an idea of their so loudly vaunted taste?” And they’ll be right to mock us, because the Paris of sublime Gothic style, the Paris of Jean Goujon, of Germain Pilon, of Puget, of Rude, of Barye, etc., will have become the Paris of Monsieur Eiffel.
Il suffit, d’ailleurs, pour se rendre compte de ce que nous avançons, de se figurer un instant une tour vertigineusement ridicule, dominant Paris, ainsi qu’une gigantesque et noire cheminée d’usine, écrasant de sa masse barbare Notre-Dame, la Sainte-Chapelle, la tour Saint-Jacques, le Louvre, le dôme des Invalides, l’Arc de Triomphe, tous nos monuments humiliés, toutes nos architectures rapetissées, qui disparaîtront dans ce rêve stupéfiant. Et pendant vingt ans nous verrons s’allonger sur la ville entière, frémissante encore du génie de tant de siècles, nous verrons s’allonger comme une tache d’encre l’ombre odieuse de l’odieuse colonne de tôle boulonnée.
It suffices, by the way, to realize what we are advancing, to imagine for an instant a dizzyingly ridiculous tower dominating Paris, like a gigantic and black factory smokestack, crushing with its barbaric mass Notre Dame, the Sainte Chappelle, the Saint-Jacques Tower, the Louvre, the dome of Les Invalides, the Arc de Triomphe, all of our monuments humiliated, all of our architectures shrunken, that will disappear in this stupefying vision. And for twenty years we will see lying on top of the entire city, still emerging from the genius of many centuries, we will see lying like an ink stain the odious shadow of the odious column of bolted sheet metal.
C’est à vous, monsieur et cher compatriote, à vous qui aimez tant Paris, qui l’avez tant embelli, qui tant de fois l’avez protégé contre les dévastations administratives et le vandalisme des entreprises industrielles, qu’appartient l’honneur de le défendre une fois de plus. Nous nous remettons à vous du soin de plaider la cause de Paris, sachant que vous y dépenserez toute l’énergie, toute l’éloquence que doit inspirer à un artiste tel que vous l’amour de ce qui est beau, de ce qui est grand, de ce qui est juste. Et si notre cri d’alarme n’est pas entendu, si nos raisons ne sont pas écoutées, si Paris s’obstine dans l’idée de déshonorer Paris, nous aurons du moins, vous et nous, fait entendre une protestation qui honore.
It’s up to you, sir and dear countryman, you who love Paris so, who have so beautified it, who have so often protected it against bureaucratic ruin and the vandalism of industrial initiatives, to uphold the honor of defending it once more. We entrust you with the care of pleading the cause of Paris, knowing that you will put all your energy into the task, all the eloquence that undoubtedly inspires in an artist such as you to love that which is beautiful, that which is grand, and that which is just. And if our warning cry is not heard, if our reasons are not listened to, if Paris continues in the same spirit of dishonoring Paris, we will have at least, you and us, voiced a protest that honors it.
Signed by
E. Meissonier, Ch. Gounod, Charles Garnier, Robert Fleury, Victorien Sardou, Édouard Pailleron, H. Gérôme, L. Bonnat, W. Bouguereau, Jean Gigoux, G. Boulanger, J.-E. Lenepveu, Eug. Guillaume, A. Wolff, Ch. Questel, A. Dumas, François Coppée, Leconte de Lisle, Daumet, Français, Sully-Prudhomme, Élie Delaunay, E. Vaudremer, E. Bertrand, G.-J. Thomas, François, Henriquel, A. Lenoir, G. Jacquet, Goubie, E. Duez, de Saint-Marceaux, G. Courtois, P.-A.-J. Dagnan-Bouveret, J. Wencker, L. Doucet, Guy de Maupassant, Henri Amic, Ch. Grandmougin, François Bournaud, Ch. Baude, Jules Lefebvre, A. Mercié, Cheviron, Albert Jullien, André Legrand, Limbo, etc., etc.
A Gentle Yet Cunning Retort
The artist-endorsed letter is perhaps the most famous outcry against the construction of the Eiffel Tower but it was hardly alone. In keeping with the French propensity for militancy, many popular figures added their own biting commentary to the ambient disgruntlement. The idea behind the project, however, had been to create a monument that would symbolize the industrial supremacy of France, 100 years after the French Revolution. When completed, the Eiffel Tower would be the tallest building in the world. (It remained so until 1930 when New York’s Chrysler Building took the lead.)
Defenders of the tower tended to be leaders of industry and politicians looking to elevate the glory of France. And so, Edouard Lockroy, le ministre du commerce et de l’industrie, took up his pen and published a letter in support of the tower, again addressed to Adolphe Alphand.
Les journaux publient une soi-disant protestation à vous adressée par les artistes et les littérateurs français. Il s’agit de la tour Eiffel, que vous avez contribué à placer dans l’enceinte de l’exposition universelle. A l’ampleur des périodes, à la beauté des métaphores, à l’atticisme d’un style délicat et précis, on devine, sans même regarder les signatures, que la protestation est due à la collaboration des écrivains et des poètes les plus célèbres de notre temps. Cette protestation est bien dure pour vous, Monsieur le Directeur des travaux. Elle ne l’est pas moins pour moi.
The newspapers are printing a so-called protest letter addressed to you by French artists and men of letters. It concerns the Eiffel Tower that you have helped locate on the site of the World’s Fair. It’s clear from the largesse of phraseology, the beauty of the metaphors, the Greek rhetoric of a delicate and precise style, without even looking at the signatures, that the petition is owing to a collaboration of the most famous authors and poets of our time. This protest letter is indeed difficult for you, Monsieur the Director of Public Works. As it is equally difficult for me.
Ne vous laissez donc pas impressionner par la forme qui est belle, et voyez les faits. La protestation manque d’à-propos. Vous ferez remarquer aux signataires qui vous l’apporteront que la construction de la tour Eiffel est décidée depuis un an et que le chantier est ouvert depuis un mois. On pouvait protester en temps utile : on ne l’a pas fait, et “l’indignation qui honore” a le tort d’éclater juste trop tard. Ce que je vous prie de faire, c’est de recevoir la protestation et de la garder. Elle devra figurer dans les vitrines de l’Exposition. Une si belle et si noble prose, signée de noms connus dans le monde entier, ne pourra manquer d’attirer la foule et, peut-être, de l’étonner.”
Don’t let yourself be impressed by its beautiful form, and consider the facts. The letter is poorly timed. You will point out to the signatories who brought it to you that the Eiffel Tower was decided upon a year ago and that it has been under construction for a month. They might have protested in due course: they did not do that, and “the indignation that honors [Paris]” is wrong to erupt just when it’s too late to do anything about it. What I request is that you accept the letter and save it. It should be featured in showcases throughout the Exposition. Such beautiful and noble prose, signed by internationally recognized personalities, can’t help but attract crowds and, perhaps, astonish them.
Gustave Eiffel’s Response
The journalists of Le Temps, however, had done their homework, and the very issue that contained the artists’ screed included an interview that the paper had conducted with Gustave Eiffel, giving the embattled engineer a chance to defend his project.
Soutiendra-t-on que c’est par leur valeur artistique que les pyramides ont si fortement frappé l’imagination des hommes ? (…) Qui n’en est pas revenu rempli d’une irrésistible admiration ! Et quelle est la source de cette admiration, sinon l’immensité de l’effort et la grandeur du résultat ?
Will you support the idea that it was via their artistic value that the pyramids so strongly sparked the imagination of men? […] Who has not returned from seeing them, filled with irresistible admiration? And what is the source of this admiration if not the immensity of such an effort and the grandeur of its end result?
La tour sera le plus haut édifice qu’aient jamais élevé les hommes. (…) Et pourquoi ce qui est admirable en Égypte deviendrait-il hideux et ridicule à Paris ? Je cherche et j’avoue que je ne trouve pas. La protestation dit que la tour va écraser de sa grosse masse barbare Notre-Dame, la Sainte-Chapelle, la tour Saint-Jacques, le Louvre, le dôme des Invalides, l’Arc de Triomphe, tous nos monuments. Que de choses à la fois ! Cela fait sourire, vraiment. Quand on veut admirer Notre-Dame, on va la voir du parvis. En quoi, du Champ-de-Mars, la tour gênera-t-elle le curieux placé sur le parvis Notre-Dame, qui ne la verra pas ?
The tower will be the tallest edifice that man has ever erected. […] And why would what is admirable in Egypt become hideous and ridiculous in Paris? I’m searching for an answer and must confess to not finding one. The protest letter states that the tower’s great barbaric mass will crush Notre Dame, Sainte-Chapelle, the Saint-Jacques Tower, the Louvre, the dome of Les Invalides, the Arc de Triomphe, all of our monuments. Everything at once! This causes me to smile, really. When people go to see Notre Dame, they’ll see it from her parvis. In what way, from the Champ-de-Mars, will the tower obstruct the curious visitor in the parvis of Notre Dame, who will not see it?
Reste la question d’utilité. Ici, puisque nous quittons le domaine artistique, il me sera bien permis d’opposer à l’opinion des artistes celle du public. Je ne crois point faire preuve de vanité en disant que jamais projet n’a été plus populaire ; j’ai tous les jours la preuve qu’il n’y a pas dans Paris de gens, si humbles qu’ils soient, qui ne le connaissent et ne s’y intéressent. A l’étranger même, quand il m’arrive de voyager, je suis étonné du retentissement qu’il a eu.”
The question of utility remains. Here, because we are leaving the artistic sphere, I will be permitted to pose public opinion against that of artists. I don’t believe that I’m being vain by saying that never has a project been more popular; every day I receive proof that there are no people in Paris, however humble they may be, who don’t know about [the tower] and take an interest in it. Even abroad, when I happen to travel, I am astonished by the impact that it has made.
Rock Versus Iron
Fortunately for Eiffel, and the generations of fans that would follow, the die was already cast and had been for months. The idea of constructing a colossal tower as the fair’s main attraction had taken hold years earlier. Rivaling Eiffel’s plan was one submitted by Jules Bourdais, a highly respected architect who had designed the Palais du Trocadéro for the 1878 World’s Fair. Bourdais had proposed an even taller tower of 370m, constructed from granite and igneous rock, capped by a powerful beacon, and named the Sun Column.
There had been numerous debates concerning the merits of each project: rock vs. iron; architect vs. engineer; classic vs. modern; and, so on. Eiffel had won this contest, in part, by convincing the jury that he had the skills to carry out his vision in time for the fair and at a reasonable cost.
The Rest is History
I doubt that Eiffel ever imagined the longevity and enduring popularity of his dame de fer. But, he no doubt felt vindicated when record-breaking crowds came to the 1889 World’s Fair and laid eyes on his magnificent structure. As for the artists who raised their voices in protest, some remained bitter to the end, such as Guy de Maupassant who wrote:
J’ai quitté Paris et même la France, parce que la tour Eiffel finissait par m’ennuyer trop. (…) Mais je me demande ce qu’on conclura de notre génération si quelque prochaine émeute ne déboulonne pas cette haute et maigre pyramide d’échelles de fer, squelette disgracieux et géant, dont la base semble faite pour porter un formidable monument de Cyclopes et qui avorte en un ridicule et mince profil de cheminée d’usine.
I left Paris and France even, because the Eiffel Tower ended up bothering me too much. (…) But I wonder what people will conclude about our generation if some impending riot does not unbolt this tall and skinny pyramid of iron ladders, graceless and giant skeleton, whose base seems made for carrying a formidable monument of Cyclopses and which aborts in a ridiculous and paltry profile of a factory chimney.
Others, however, retracted their earlier stance such as the Nobel Prize-winning Sully Prudhomme, who declared:
J’ai signé une protestation d’artistes et d’écrivains contre le gigantesque édifice (…). Je n’avais, heureusement, jugé et condamné que par défaut, et devant l’œuvre accomplie et victorieuse, je me sens aujourd’hui plus à l’aise que d’autres pour en appeler de ma propre sentence.
I signed a protest letter by artists and writers against the gigantic structure (…). Fortunately, I had only judged and condemned by default, and today, [standing] before the accomplished and victorious work, I feel more comfortable than others to appeal my own sentence.
Wise move Prudhomme!
An interesting episode. Honestly I have always felt that the Eiffel Tower is rather over-rated as an architectural achievement — surely the Arc de Triomphe and Note-Dame have much greater artistic merit, and doubtless so do other structures in Paris. I was not aware that the Eiffel Tower was the world’s tallest man-made structure when completed. It seems to have been the late-nineteenth-century equivalent of the US manned Moon landings of 1968-1972 — a display of technological power and superiority, with very little practical value. Those landings too, of course, struck awe into the nation and the world much as Eiffel described his tower as doing. Such displays can serve a valid purpose — it was important, during the Cold War, to dispel the impression of technological superiority which the Soviet space program had built up during the 1960s — but once the point is made, no purpose is served by continuing along the same path. I don’t believe that, for the foreseeable future, any country will actually waste tens of billions on the utterly pointless project of sending humans to the Moon again (despite endless talk), and the race to claim the world’s tallest tower now seems to be pursued mainly by naïve and flashy parvenu societies like the Persian Gulf oil states.
Nevertheless, after more than 130 years, the Eiffel Tower has become an integral part of Paris’s image, and the city would seem odd without it.
Point of grammatical curiosity — does it mean anything that odieuse comes after the noun it modifies with ombre, but before it with colonne? I know Italian can flip the modifier-modified order around like that, but I didn’t realize French did it.
I also had the impression that enceinte meant something rather different than “site”, but I suppose languages allow themselves the luxury of eccentric variations in meaning.
That’s a very interesting comparison, Infidel—between the space program and the Eiffel Tower. Just like NASA, Eiffel kept his tower alive (it was only supposed to last for 20 years) by coming up with scientific spinoffs to boost its utility. He put a meteorology lab on the top floor and in 1899 installed a radio transmitter that could send morse code messages as far as London. You and I recently discussed(?) the Eiffel’s role in defeating the Germans in WWI. I feel I’ve come to know you because your lack of enthusiasm for the monument aligns with my imagination of your aesthetic. Maybe you’ve mentioned your reservations in other commentary. 🙂
The placement of French adjectives isn’t entirely consistent. An author can put an adjective before the noun it modifies to emphasize the adjective’s importance. It’s like rendering the adjective in a bold font. In this case, the inky shadow that it casts on the ground is odious but the tower itself is even more odious.
Some adjectives, change meaning depending on whether they come before or after the noun. Un ancien collegue is a former co-worker but un collegue ancien is a very old person with whom one works. Also, there are many adjectives that always come before. The Eiffel Tower is un grand monument, not un monument grand.
Enceinte is used in several contexts but a common visual that I think of a is “protected enclosure”. Another example of women’s bodies being completely objectified. Ha!
Thanks so much for your analysis!
I know the Tower did come up at least once before in comments on one of your posts, though I don’t remember the long-range Morse code transmitter. Instantaneous contact over hundreds of miles must have seemed quite remarkable at the time. And of course the Tower later proved useful in providing Victor Lustig with an income.
It’s true that I learned about architecture focusing on the medieval and ancient monumental architecture of Europe and the Middle East, and I do find those more traditional styles more interesting and impressive. Obviously tastes differ from person to person, of course.
Thanks for the grammar explanation. Languages are certainly full of little quirks and nuances. It’s a huge project to learn a new language really well.
Just to make it clear, I certainly don’t consider the space program as a whole lacking in actual value. We’ve now explored the whole solar system with robot probes, and with advanced telescopes we’ve discovered thousands of planets circling other stars, and learned a great deal about them. The scientific value of all this is immense. It’s specifically sending humans into space that is pointless, staggeringly expensive, and much more dangerous than most people seem to realize. Even in the Apollo era, there was no substantial scientific knowledge gained from the manned Moon landings. It really was mostly an assertion of national prestige.
It is intriguing that a question of architectural aesthetics aroused such passion in 1889. It’s something of a stereotype that the French are especially stirred and impassioned about the arts, but stereotypes often have a grain of truth in them.
Your posts continue to be more finely-crafted and researched than those of almost any other blogger I know. I’m sure you have reasons for not posting as often as you used to, but I appreciate whenever you do.
Very well-done as usual, Carol.
“L’indignation qui honore”… Three words that may sum up a good part of French character… My dear compatriots can have “l’indignation facile”. Sometimes right, sometimes wrong. And after a few years they change their mind… Indignation is also so much easier than action…
Are you still off to Paris in December?
En fait, je suis là depuis dimanche matin. Toujours folle de cette ville.
Oooh. Me voilà vert de jalousie… C’est une ville dont on ne peut être que fou ou folle. Malheureusement trop de gens s’échinent à l’enlaidir…
How long will you stay?
Bon séjour mon amie.