Buildings help create our sense of permanence, and what to do when they are destroyed is a question with existential overtones.
In reactions to the burning of Notre-Dame de Paris, one can see a sadness that is distinct from the direct horror of destruction. Unlike warzones such as Syria, or tragedies like the Grenfell Tower fire, the grief surrounding Notre Dame is less about human pain and more about the role these structures play in creating our sense of permanence. They give us a taste of temporal continuity that outlasts our lives, and so what to do when they are destroyed is a question with existential overtones.
Thankfully, from what we can see at this point the cathedral has had a lucky escape: the conflagration has burned away most of the timber roof, the spire has collapsed, and some vaults have been punctured. But images from the nave show the interior largely undisturbed and the magnificent rose windows still in place beneath, and it seems that unlike the Glasgow School of Art or the National Museum of Brazil, whose interiors and contents were both gutted last year, the loss has been limited.
But even so, the temptation has been to quickly reach for the metaphor. Any building on fire is a potent symbol, and so far I’ve seen attempts to tie the fire to Emmanuel Macron’s unpopularity and the Gilet Jaunes movement, Brexit and turmoil in the EU, and climate change. More sinisterly, alt-right figures have insinuated skullduggery, feeding off the strange link often made between architectural tradition and racial purity. For them, the burning cathedral represents Christianity – whiteness itself is under threat from “others”.
Macron has already promised to do what it takes to repair the cathedral, and as part of a UNESCO site the will and means is presumably there.
