There I was, sitting on la ligne 6 on my way home from babysitting, thinking about Existentialism and Sartre, as one might do in Paris. [The layout of my thought process began with thinking about existentialism –> then about Sartre –> then remembering how when I told my host dad that I liked reading Sartre’s works he replied with “I do not keep any Sartre in this house” (lolz) –> and then Sartre’s play Huis Clos (No Exit).]
As I started wikipedia-ing these things on my phone, a man suddenly gets up and starts shouting loudly. At first, I thought it was another angry person letting out their anger to strangers on the metro:
« Eh bien, voici le moment. Le bronze est là, je le contemple et je com prends que je suis en enfer. Je vous dis que tout était prévu. Ils avaient prévu que je me tiendrais devant cette cheminée, pressant ma main sur ce bronze, avec tous ces regards sur moi. Tous ces regards qui me mangent… Ha ! vous n’êtes que deux ? Je vous croyais beaucoup plus nombreuses. Alors, c’est ça l’enfer. Je n’aurais jamais cru… Vous vous rappelez : le soufre, le bûcher, le gril… Ah ! quelle plaisanterie. Pas besoin de gril : l’enfer, c’est les Autres.» [[Exit man off of the metro]]
I quickly realized, though, that this person was reciting (practicing? maybe they’re in a production) the last scene of the exact play I was thinking of at that moment (Huis Clos).
It was an incredibly weird coincidence. Did he happened to see my phone screen and decide to recite the play I was searching? Perhaps, but probably not.
Sometimes, Paris is a city of coincidences.
Aya et le monde 