Crossing on the Paris Page 30

“When I saw Mrs. Sinclair on deck last night, in her bathrobe, her white hair flying, she reminded me of my mother. Maybe that’s why I ran out there,” Constance said in a near whisper. She turned to Julie. “Don’t you think she would have made a wonderful grandmother?”

  “Absolutely!” Julie nodded with a smile, wiping her eyes.

  “Say, shall we buy some roses?” Constance asked, suddenly inspired. “While we’re still at sea, we could hold a little memorial for her.”

  “Oh, Constance, what a lovely idea!”

  They bought two long-stemmed red roses at the florist’s, then walked to the edge of the steamer. Compared to the night before, the ocean seemed still, the wake of the liner providing its only wave. Together they reached out and tossed the roses into the water.

  “To our very dear friend, who we just met!” cried Julie.

  “To indispensable strangers!” cried Constance.

  “To Vera Sinclair!” “Here’s to Madame Sinclair!” they shouted.

  They bowed their heads to observe the ephemeral ceremony of the rose-red drops on the slate-blue surface.

  “What a wonderful coincidence, the three of us all being on deck last night at the same time,” Constance said.

  “Did you see the launch photographs in L’Atlantique?” Julie asked, pulling the old novel out of her bag and showing her the raggedy newspaper clipping. In it, Julie and Constance stood next to each other, while Vera faded off to the side. “Here we all are! We were all walking together toward the ship that day!”

  “I’m so glad you kept that!” Constance looked at the photograph with a chuckle. “It was so horrible of me, I didn’t even want it.”

  “Of you!” Julie laughed. “It’s horrible of all of us!”

  “Who would have guessed what a wonderful souvenir a bad photograph could be?” Constance mused. “That we would all become friends?”

  “It was fate, I suppose,” Julie said, carefully putting the newspaper clipping back inside the book and into her bag.

  “Or luck?” Constance murmured, remembering Captain Fielding’s poker chip and the delicate balance between fortune and misfortune.

  “Fate, luck, chance.” Julie shrugged. “I’ve been thinking a lot about that. It’s all just a question of change.” She looked over at Constance. “I mean, good luck might be sudden riches, the perfect opportunity, or a new friend. And bad? Well, death, ruin, meeting the wrong person . . . But it’s all about change, isn’t it? About newness, about metamorphosis.” She drew out this last word, enjoying the sound of it, so scientific, so Vernian. “And, since we can’t do anything about it, we must embrace it, make change our friend, our ally.”

  “You’re right, Julie. Luck is change. Heck,” Constance said, with a laugh, “life is change.”

  They stood in silence, lost in thought, watching the waves.

  “Look!” Julie exclaimed, taking Constance by the arm. She could now distinguish the coastline, the New York islands, land. They would be docking soon; the voyage was almost over. Just the day before—sick, exhausted, devastated—it had seemed interminable.

  All of a sudden, from up top (a funnel, perhaps?), a man’s straw hat—a boater—blew down, passing right before the two women. With a grim smile, Julie watched it fly by, her hands firmly held to the rails. The hat dove into the sea like a gull; for an instant, it bobbed, tiny and insignificant, then was taken under by the ship’s great wake. As it disappeared, Julie felt she had witnessed a proper burial to her troubles on board. Like the ship, she was moving firmly ahead.

  Constance, oblivious to the hat, began pointing out to the horizon.

  “Look ahead, Julie! It’s Lady Liberty!” She turned to her, smiling, her eyes shining with excitement.

  “Yes!” Julie cried. “I can see her!”

  HISTORICAL NOTE

  The first time I heard of the SS Paris was in 2007, when my husband and I translated the catalog Gigantes del Atlántico: Los Paquebotes de la French Line (Giants of the Atlantic: The Steamers of the French Line) for an exhibition at the Valencian museum the MuVIM. After working on the project for a week or two, I became fascinated by the history and sociology, the mechanics and the aesthetics of these ships, which not only boasted cutting-edge design and technology but were veritable microcosms of modern society.

  In the novel, most of the details about the ship are accurate. At the beginning of its service, weighing in at 34,569 tons, the Paris was the largest transatlantic liner in France; its sumptuous, upper-deck interiors varied from Art Nouveau to traditional “palatial,” and was the first liner to use the sleek emerging style of Art Deco; in first class, valets and maids were given adjacent rooms to their employers and, indeed, some cabins were equipped with private telephones—which was highly innovative, even as an idea. The Paris was able to transport 567 passengers in first class, 530 in second, and 844 in third.

  Travelers in steerage were much more comfortable aboard this ship than those who had made the voyage some ten or fifteen years previously. Back then, families were separated and put into same-sex dormitories called berthing compartments, which were vastly overcrowded and smelled of unwashed bodies and sewage buckets. The genteel classes, when weary of finery and elegance, would go down to steerage as curiosity seekers, and some took advantage of the fact that young women were unprotected by fathers or husbands. On the Paris, steerage passengers had cabins, bathrooms, a lounge, and plenty of food.

  Although the Paris was laid down in 1913, World War I delayed its maiden voyage across the Atlantic until 1921. These voyages were media events, causes for celebration that captivated the nation—somewhat like a space launch today—and were followed in the news. Sadly, however, despite its beauty and size, the Paris did not have a successful career in the years to come: in 1927, it collided with a Norwegian ship in New York Harbor, resulting in twelve casualties; in 1929, a fire on board required six months of repairs. Then, in 1939, eighteen years after its maiden voyage, a fire broke out in its bakery on the eve of another Atlantic crossing. Although the art headed to the New York World’s Fair was quickly evacuated, the Paris was soon taken by flames. The massive amounts of water used to extinguish the fire caused the ship to capsize and sink at the Le Havre dock. The wreckage remained there until 1947.

  The year 1921, when the Paris was launched, was an interesting time in history, although the Jazz Age of flappers, the Charleston, and The Great Gatsby had yet to begin (especially in Europe, still aching and wounded from the Great War). Both Prohibition and the women’s right to vote had become amendments to the U.S. Constitution the year before, and would have certainly been hot topics of debate. In steerage, those wanting to emigrate were probably discussing immigration restrictions. The Emergency Quota Act of 1921 (passed a month before the maiden voyage of the Paris) was prompted by the news that, twelve months prior, some eight hundred thousand foreigners had entered into the United States. The interwar period was also an extremely important one for the arts, here embodied by Faith (whose artwork tips its hat to Maud Westerdahl) and Michel (with his “untidy” paintings; a Cubist, perhaps?). Vera got to be one of the first readers of Constantine Cavafy’s famous poem “Ithaca,” while Constance, with her more conservative tastes, was enjoying The Mysterious Affair at Styles, Agatha Christie’s first novel, which came out in 1920.

  Although almost all of the characters in Crossing on the Paris are entirely fictitious, a few famous people pop in for a cameo, though there is no evidence to suggest that they were ever on the Paris. Mary Pickford and Douglas Fairbanks, who had just married the year before (and honeymooned in London and Paris), were at the height of their stardom at that time and, indeed, would have caused a furor had they been on board. Another famous possible passenger was at Constance’s table when she dined with the captain: WWI flying ace Lieutenant Fernand Jacquet.

  Our imaginary Vera Sinclair, in her many years in Paris, rubbed shoulders with several well-known contemporaries. Her favorite designer, Paul Poiret, was a revolutionary, c
redited with freeing women from corsets, launching the brassiere, and developing dozens of bold, innovative styles. This genius of haute couture did have a curious relationship with Max Jacob, the poet and dear friend of Picasso and Apollinaire. Poiret consulted Jacob on everything and, in return, sent him his rich clientele to have their fortunes told. Dan Franck gives a lively account of these men and their time in Bohemian Paris: Picasso, Modigliani, Matisse, and the Birth of Modern Art.

  Constance mentions a brief encounter with Sigmund Freud. Interestingly, Freud went to America only once, in 1909, and this was at the invitation—or the insistence—of G. Stanley Hall, the president of Clark University. In the company of Carl Jung and Sándor Ferenczi, Freud did some sightseeing in New York and then went to Worcester to deliver five lectures. He was pleased to see that Hall had introduced psychoanalysis into the school curriculum; he later stated: “As I stepped onto the platform, it seemed like the realization of some incredible daydream. Psychoanalysis was no longer a product of delusion—it had become a valuable part of reality.” By the way, according to Peter Gay in Freud: A Life for Our Time, Freud did blame his stomach complaints on the food and ice water served in the United States.

  I think Vera and her companions would have a difficult time envisioning transatlantic travel today—walking through long security lines, beltless and in socks, eating mediocre meals with plastic cutlery in narrow seats, arriving with jet lag, cramped and exhausted—and I hope you have enjoyed imagining a time when travel was elegant and refined. At least on the upper decks.

  Dana Gynther

  Spring 2012

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  First of all, I’d like to thank my agent, the savvy Michelle Brower, who saw promise in this story from the beginning—if not for her, you would be holding a spiral-bound bunch of photocopies—and my insightful and supportive editors, Erika Imranyi and Kathy Sagan.

  The novel was inspired by a translation job. Thanks go out to our dear friends and fellow translators, Agustin Nieto and Brendan Lambe, who asked my husband and me to translate the museum catalog Gigantes del Atlántico: Los Paquebotes de la French Line (Giants of the Atlantic: The Steamers of the French Line).

  Articles by John Maxtone-Graham and Sarah Edington were helpful in getting further glimpses into the world aboard ocean liners, and Dan Franck’s book provided an insight into Bohemian Paris. I was also inspired by Robert Graves’s Goodbye to All That (Graves actually experienced the anecdote about the field mice and frogs getting trapped in the trenches in World War I), not to mention Constantine Cavafy, whose poem Ithaca, an old favorite of mine, is included in the novel. Many thanks to George Barbanis for allowing me to use his elegant translation.

  On a more personal level, this book would not have been written without the encouragement of my family and friends, some of whom went that extra mile to read early drafts (and some more than once!). Invaluable comments and suggestions came from readers on both sides of the Atlantic: Frannie James, Luisa Carrillo, Peggy Stelpflug, Charles Harmon, James King, Colleen Tully, Michael O’Brien, Judith Nunn, Lizzie Hudson, Susan Prygoski, Natalia Pavlovic, Amy Sevcik, and Meredith Kershaw, among many others. Mary Dansak, however, lays claim to being the novel’s official midwife, helping me breathe throughout the entire process. Big kisses go out to my mother, Ruth, brother, Larry, and sisters Lynn and Lisa. Thanks to all, but none more than my husband, Carlos Garcia Aranda, and our daughters, Claudia and Lulu. I couldn’t have done this—or anything else—without you three.

  GALLERY READERS GROUP GUIDE

  Crossing on the Paris

  DANA GYNTHER

  INTRODUCTION

  It is June 15, 1921, and the Paris ocean liner is about to make its maiden voyage, setting sail from France and headed for New York by way of England in the aftermath of World War I. Vera Sinclair, Constance Stone, and Julie Vernet board the ocean liner as strangers, each one carrying a unique sorrow and hope as they begin their transatlantic voyage. As the story of each woman unfolds, Crossing on the Paris turns out to be much more than an ocean crossing—it is a journey of transformation.

  TOPICS AND QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION

  1. Readers are introduced to Constance Stone, Vera Sinclair, and Julie Vernet in the prologue. What was your initial impression of each woman? What did you learn about each character in this short introduction?

  2. Each woman is a passenger on a different level of the Paris, representing the different social class distinctions. What were their impressions and attitudes toward the other classes? What were some of the ways each class was portrayed throughout the narrative—both positive and negative? Did you identify with one “class” more than another?

  3. When the photographer snaps a picture of the three women at the beginning of the voyage, what expression do you imagine on each of their faces? What is one word you would use to individually describe Constance, Vera, and Julie prior to embarking on their voyage?

  4. There are three different generations represented through the lives of Constance, Vera and Julie. What challenges does each woman face in light of their age and state in life? What do they learn from each other?

  5. Discuss the ways Constance, Vera, and Julie compare and contrast to the gender norms and social expectations of the time period. How do you imagine you would have responded if you had lived during this time period?

  6. After the devastating losses of World War I, Julie is eager to leave behind the sadness of Le Havre and begin her adventure working on the Paris. However, the reality of her experience turns out to be different than her previous imaginings: “The transatlantic liners had always seemed the very image of beauty, luxury, wealth, and power. But here under the waterline, it was nothing of the sort. Far from glamorous and exciting, it was drudgery . . .” Discuss the contrast between her hopes at the beginning of the trip and the reality of her experiences in steerage. What are some of the things she learns about herself? How does she handle the disappointments she encounters? How do you handle disappointment when reality turns out to be very different from what you have imagined or expected?

  7. How did you respond to Constance’s “mission” to bring Faith home in hopes that her presence would improve their mother’s condition? Were you surprised when Faith refused to accompany Constance back home? Which sister are you most sympathetic to? Why? What impact does Faith’s refusal to return ultimately have on Constance? Have you ever experienced a similar point of contention in a relationship? Does their relationship remind you of any relationships in your own life?

  8. Which one of Vera’s journal entries did you find particularly enjoyable? What do her journal entries reveal about the way she has lived her life? What do you think of her decision to leave Paris? Have you ever kept, or do you currently keep, a journal?

  9. Why do you think the author chose to use dense fog and stormy weather as the setting for a significant portion of the Paris’ crossing? How do these weather conditions contribute to the plot?

  10. Describe the ways that Constance’s friendship with Dr. Serge Chabron takes her into uncharted waters. Do you agree with her choice to indulge her attraction to him? Why or why not? How does her friendship with Serge ultimately contribute to her personal transformation? Discuss your response to her choice on the last night of the voyage. Would you have made a different choice? Why or why not?

  11. Toward the end of the novel, Vera is contemplating what to do with her journals and hears the cry of a baby: “ ‘Have you ever heard such a baby?’ Vera exclaimed, suddenly cross. She was agitated, mostly by her somber thoughts, but preferred to find fault with the infant and its incessant wailing. ‘It’s been crying now for a full half hour!’ Amandine looked at her in surprise, ‘I don’t hear anything, ma’am.’ ” What does the baby’s cry foreshadow in Vera’s life? What was your response to her decision about “bequeathing” her journals? What other options do you think she might have had? What would you have done?

  13. Compare and contrast the role that Serge, Charles,
and Nikolai play in the lives of Constance, Vera and Julie, respectively. What does each woman hope to find in their relationships with these men? What are the limitations of these relationships for each woman? What are the limitations of your relationships? How can you tell when your expectations are realistic or unrealistic?

  14. What gifts do Constance, Vera and Julie ultimately give each other as a result of their chance encounter and connection on the Paris?

  15. As the Paris arrives in New York, what do you find yourself hoping for Julie? Constance? Amandine?

  16. Crossing on the Paris is a story full of endings and new beginnings. Describe the endings and losses that each woman encounters in her life. In what ways do the endings contribute to new beginnings for each of the three women? How does this affect you as you think about endings and losses in your own life? Describe a time when an ending or loss resulted in a positive new beginning in your life.

  ENHANCE YOUR BOOK CLUB

  1. Experiment with journaling. Pick a journal and a writing pen and begin recording memories and moments that are significant to you. Establish a style that uniquely suits you, like Vera’s style of drawing sketches and using the alphabet to record memories.

  2. Explore something new. Break out of your comfort zone and explore uncharted waters! Try reading a new genre of book or pursue a new hobby. Discuss your experiences at your next book club.

  3. Enter the time period. Watch an episode of Downton Abbey and discuss your response to the various characters, class distinctions, gender roles, and settings. If you had been cast for a part in the series, what role would you most likely identify with?

  A CONVERSATION WITH DANA GYNTHER

  1. What was your inspiration for writing Crossing on the Paris?

  My husband and I translated the catalogue Gigàntes del Atlantico: Los Paquebotes de la French Line (Giants of the Atlantic: The Steamers of the French Line) for an exhibition at the Valencian museum the MuVIM. After working on the project for a week or two, I became fascinated by the history and sociology, the mechanics and the aesthetics of these ships, which not only boasted cutting edge design and technology, but were veritable microcosms of modern society.