Saturday
Feb042012
Let Them Eat Fire
02.4.2012 
Once a year, generally on a cold and rainy night (they can pick 'em; this was the only rainy night for weeks this winter) our local fire eaters congregate at the Trocadero, across the Seine from the Tour Eiffel, and enjoy a revel that looks like one of Marlon Brando's big scenes in Apocalyse Now.
This year was no different.
At least this was one event at which you could warm your hands.
The most important caution: Don't INhale.
tagged fire-eaters, rain in Paris Life
fire-eaters, rain in Paris Life
Reader Comments (11)
Light my Fire!
Great photos, but don't let any very young children see them. It may give them dangerous ideas.
It's hard for me to resist this one, so here's a poem of mine from a book of poems written in 2007/08, entitled The Fire Eater's Lunchbreak).
JOY OF THE PHOENIX
The joy of the Phoenix must be in its burning
and the moment that out of its ashes it
spreads its ancient wings again and rises
with not a single ash flake unaccounted for
And the ash was formless the moment before
not one moment of further possible burning
Not one glimmer of red ember furtively radiant
out of the bland neutrality of ash
A new vigor of resplendent Phoenix making
air waves of rainbow color stutter off its flight
And yet the single heartbeat of these
transformations doesn’t come from Phoenix
Allah’s purpose for metamorphosis and origination
propels not only burning and ash-making
but reconstitution and flight for a new destination
with its eyes clear as beacons looking for
Phoenix prey whose prayer is constant
renewal and perpetual divine nearness
_______________________________
(But in fact, the poem should be this one written in Marrakech in 2004, probably inspiring the book title above:)
FIRE-EATER OF MARRAKESH
When the fire-eater put the firebrand in his mouth
the whole night sky I swear burst into flame
and when he took it out of his mouth extinguished
the night sky blackened and pulled itself tight
around us again
Varda:
You are right. As we know from Hansel and Gretel, very young children are most tender when placed in a slow oven for many hours.
Love,
The Brothers Grimm
Daniel:
Thank you, as always, for the poetry. We hope you lit Sister Ann's fire as well.
Hugs,
--Richard and Kaaren
No one set their hair on fire.....? Isn't that one of the lyrics....?
Regardless, Richard's photos are, as usual, technique and emotion.
Thank you for the glimpse of the modern day children of Prometheus; how fire in the dark continues to amaze us.
Really sensual images! The heat versus the freezing cold, the damp ground...I imagined what it all must have sounded like...the actual fire, the crowd's reaction...amazing stuff. Does this journal entry mark a year in Paris, or close to it? And the shiny-helmeted hero firefighters -- were they standing by? Thank you both for bringing it to us. xo
Anna:
Merci. No burning scalps, despite the acrobatics.
--R and K
Jackson:
Fire in the dark seen from a distance = another brilliant Jackson Wheeler poem <http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/180566>.
Love from us,
--R and K
Jennifer:
Yes, we marked a year here in Paris on January 22, which means the Paris Play anniversary (we started in February) must be soon.
No, there were no firemen in sight. One thing that struck us a long time ago (well before we moved here) is the looser attitude toward "liability" here. I think the French believe that if people want to play with fire and set themselves alight, it's their decision. Why overwork the firefighters trying to put them out?
I used to marvel at the little elevators with their wire mesh cages, and think, "Boy, if somebody stuck their finger in that, there could be a real lawsuit." But the French seem far less litigious, and driven by insurance companies, than the US. I could be wrong (and I hope our French readers will correct this impression if I am), but laissez faire seems to be the French way.
Richard (and Kaaren)
p.s.: "I'm not a lawyer, I just play one on television."