The center of the universe

The number 83 bus follows a thought-provoking route through Paris: it spills out onto the throbbing artery of the Champs Elys?©es, passes between two royal palaces, crosses the Seine in front of the golden dome of Napoleon's Invalides, and snakes toward the western end of the student quarter on the rive gauche.

An innocent passenger presented with this panorama in the space of a mere 15 minutes might be surprised to find herself wondering: is Paris the center of the universe?

Sometimes it seems to be. It's at least the center of the French universe, for despite what you've heard about the Burgundy wine country, the sunny C??te d'Azur, and the much tugged-over Alsace and Lorraine, there are actually only two regions in all of France: Paris and province.

Province, not to be confused with the Mediterranean region of Provence, is what the French call anywhere in France that is not Paris.

Parisians like to go to province for hunting weekends or to visit elderly relatives. Most often, they see it out the window of the TGV. But live there? It's akin to voluntary exile.

Proximity to Paris does not even count if you live en province. Living just outside Paris in the banlieues, the suburbs, is still social death since the metro stops running at 12:30 a.m. This may explain the fine linguistic distinction between being ?  Paris (in Paris) and dans Paris (not in its suburbs, environs, or general area, but within city limits).

Paris' dominance of the country -- administrative, cultural, economic -- is built into the French system. Several centuries of monarchy, two empires, a restoration, and five republics have made France Europe's most centralized state and indeed one of the most centralized countries in the world.

In the past, the old royal roads formed a star shape -- they all led to Paris. In the 19th century, railroads were laid down in the same pattern. In modern-day France, all highways, train lines, flight paths -- everything -- leads to Paris.

The infrastructure of France finds its parallel in the population's attitude toward Paris -- the capital has an overwhelming draw. Perhaps it was Flaubert who best captured this mentality in Emma Bovary's breathless longing to see the city while stuck in the deep heart of muddy, dreary, dull province.

Sometimes, it's easy to join the French in believing that Paris is a kind of universal locus. It's the densest city in Europe, resulting in a tangible energy on almost every street. The grand boulevards provide such long views that it's easy to think they contain everything there is to see. And the city is bound in by a beltway, the p?©riph?©rique, whose very name suggests that everything beyond it is just -- nothingness.

It's therefore only fitting that Parisians have a mayor, Bertrand Delano?, who thinks himself to be the center of the universe. In a recent visit to my university, Delano? may have set a record for the number of consecutive sentences beginning with "I." Students began to titter after ten solid minutes of hearing about Delano?'s achievements (numerous), political ideas (prescient), and mayoral initiatives (ahead of their time).

"I could go on for a while," he said eventually, seeming to awaken from his personal reverie. The audience laughed expectantly. "Well, just a little bit more," he added after a theatrical pause.

Delano? is practically besieged by other mayors from all over the world who want to come visit him, he told the auditorium. The mayor of Washington, DC was just in Paris and had such a great time that he's coming back in May. The mayor of St. Petersburg has been three times -- and "I haven't even been to see him once!" Delano? exclaimed, practically licking his lips at the deliciousness of the imbalance.

Such posturing may be why Delano? often "pisses off the Parisians" (a gentle translation of what one French woman told me recently). Still, he does somewhat embody the magnetic quality of the city. In a nowhere-else-but-Paris moment in 2002, Delano? responded to being stabbed at a citywide all-night celebration by reportedly crying, "Let the party continue!"

Paris thus remains the center of the bon vivant universe, if nothing else. It's no longer the center of the diplomatic universe -- the rate of new treaties of Paris has slowed considerably since the 18th century. It's certainly not the center of the economic universe. As for the intellectual universe, the city no longer dominates as it did even earlier in this century.

Paris does remain the undisputed center of the Parisian universe, which speaks well for the city, if you think about it. And since Parisians can't see too far beyond the p?©riph?©rique, the situation suits them just fine.