René Descartes makes me laugh.
Not his writing and not his philosophies; just
his name – when printed on Loire Valley tourism brochures and websites.
The Loire likes to celebrate its
literary connections, and often it seems valid. Rabelais regularly teased
his home town of Chinon in his books, and Honoré de Balzac wrote many novels
and swaths of La Comédie humaine at
the Château in Saché.
But Descartes, though born in the
Loire, didn’t hang around long, leaving forever while still a child. He never
wrote or said much that betrayed his Valley roots and wasn’t even all that
firmly French. He spent much of his productive
thinking and scribbling life in the Netherlands.
These facts have not deterred the
promoters of Loire literary links. In fact, La Haye en Touraine, the town
where Descartes was born, changed its name to emphasize the association for all time. It is now known simply as the Village of Descartes.
For this reason, I smiled when we
checked into our hotel in Azay-le-Rideau. Just off the dining room, a closet or storage room has been dedicated to and duly named in honour of René Descartes. As far as I
can tell, he never set foot in the closet or the town.
I thought it was funny.
I thought it was funny.
But after crossing the courtyard to our room, I found another door
and another name - La Fontaine - another French writer and another one not really
associated to this region. At this
point, I noticed other decorations – an old student desk, bookcases, and a
display of rulers, inkwells, and drawing tools.
The Hotel de Biencourt, it turns out, housed a school for
centuries, and the décor and the literary room names honour these times.
But the history that draws guests to the hotel and to the town
revolves around the 16th century Château a few blocks away. The Chateau d’Azay-le-Rideau is a typical Renaissance
castle and popular because it seems to rise up magically in the
middle of the river and because of its sketchy backstory.
The extravagance of the castle was kicked off about five hundred
years ago by a character named Gilles Berthelot, the Mayor of Tours and
Treasurer-General of the King's finances. Berthelot didn’t finish
the project. He had to flee into exile when his family came under
suspicion for financial indiscretions – indiscretions of the kind that carried
the death penalty.
Walking back to my room, I imagined
the 19th schoolmasters pointing to the castle and reciting this cautionary
tale.
Hey - Maybe celebration of Descartes isn’t to attract tourists to
the great things in the Loire, but rather to tell the youth that they can
achieve great things if they leave.
