Notre Déesse De Paris
Avery Becard
Reason was the famous politician ’ s wife , smiling close-lipped as she reclined on
the altar to hide the gap between her two front teeth . Liberty was a girl that Pauline did
not recognize , with chestnut curls cascading from a Grecian helmet bedecked in
streamers of blue , white and red . Whatever her Christian name , tonight she went by
Marianne , the very spirit of the Republic . Spirits supped on ambrosia alone , and so each
glass of wine that Marianne refused ended up the hands of Pauline ’ s admirers , who
flocked to her in droves . All of them knew that as the incarnation of Nature , Pauline
was really the incarnation of Love . Her crown of roses , the bright foam of pearls
dripping from her robe gave away the game as much as the kisses she received and
bestowed with abandon . Everything glittered with an incandescent light . Nymphs and
satyrs , philosophers and salonnières roamed the cathedral nave , cleared of all its pews ,
and their laughter echoed to the heights of the vaulted ceiling .
“ Won ’ t this be better ? We will serve to remind them that there are no gods , only
ideals – and ideals , Mademoiselle Léon , live in people .” Pauline had hardly needed
Reason ’ s convincing . She had accepted the invitation to the fête at once , even if it also
meant accepting a place in the mock pantheon . What did it matter as long as she could