Notre-Dame, Paris. Imagine Quasimodo peering out at you from the belltower. Marie’s children did just that when she brought them to visit her birth city. Marie played along and told them he was hiding, afraid of the tourists. Her daughter exclaimed “But I wouldn’t hurt him! I know he’s a nice guy.”
I read Victor Hugo’s novel,
Hunchback of Notre-Dame, many years ago, as a high school student. I don’t think I grasped the significance of the novel back then. Social injustice was all around me in the early 1970s and reading about it in literature written more than 100 earlier didn’t seem relevant. Oh, fickle youth!
And if you do go to Paris, you can see Quasimodo. There’s a small
sculpture of him on the exterior of the north transept along the Rue de Cloître Notre Dame.