The wonders of the Paris Metro

Andrew Martin is in love. Head over heels in love, quite unable to control himself in his appreciation of the object of his affection, which is, believe it or not, an underground railway network. While this may seem an irrational attachment, it becomes easier to understand as his account of the origins, history and, most importantly, design of the system unfolds. ‘What most distinguishes the Metro,’ Martin tells us, ‘is its beauty.’ Its eroticism is, too, ‘expressed in diverse ways’, notably condom machines dotted around the system, advertisements for vibrators and the revelation that Ticket de Metro is ‘the name of the most popular bikini wax among Parisian women’.

In fact there is something very special rooted in the origins of the Metro which differentiates it from other underground systems. One of the early proponents of the network, Charles Garnier, the architect of the Paris Opera, wrote that the Metropolitain would be accepted by Parisians only if ‘it rejects absolutely all industrial character so as to be completely a work of art’. The network does indeed reflect this ideal, as Martin describes, with its elegant entrances (unencumbered by names, as all Parisians apparently know where they are), smart, white-tiled stations and a blend of styles – Art Nouveau mixed with Romanticism and a soupçon of Modernism. This emphasis on elegance was initiated by the Art Nouveau architect Hector Guimard, who designed all the early Metro entrances, and while many of these have not survived, the emphasis on style has.

Of course as an Englishman, albeit from Yorkshire rather than London, Martin feels the need to emphasise the differences between the London Underground and the Metro, holding that the latter is, quite simply, superior. He obviously likes the Underground, having written a couple of books about it, but in a dispassionate, rather routine sort of way, in the manner of a long-term relationship that has gone stale.