OPINION: The Olympian Predicament of Paris’s Booksellers
After months of uncertainty and protests, Paris’s Seine-side booksellers finally prevailed in a battle with French authorities on February 13 after they were ordered to relocate during the 2024 Summer Olympic Games. This week, according to the New York Times, they succeeded in securing a promise from French President Emmanuel Macron that they could stay as part of the “living heritage of the capital.” Yet, the dilemma of these booksellers—bouquinistes in French—reveals deeper problems that lie at the heart of this presentation of the Olympics.
The bouquinistes, who have plied their trade along the Seine since the reign of Napoleon III in 1858, did not agree with the Paris police’s August relocation order, wrote France24. Citing the fragility of their structures and the loss of earning potential during the busiest tourist season, Paris’s booksellers began to protest. An opinion published in Le Monde and signed by notable French intellectuals admonished the Paris Prefecture for its cultural degradation in removing the “largest open-air bookstore in the world.” In addition to these published objections, booksellers began painting slogans on their boxes, emphasizing their importance to literature. Imitating Victor Hugo with a tag for “Notre Drame de Paris” (Instagram: @americanfille) and J.R.R. Tolkein for “The Lord of the Olympic Rings doesn’t like reading” (Instagram: @jean_michel.mazerolle), the bouquinistes demonstrated that their erasure would not be taken lightly.
Faced with mounting opposition from the booksellers and their allies, President Macron announced on February 13 that the booksellers would not be forced to leave their historic venue, as reported by Entrevue. This decision likely resulted from the fervent protests of booksellers, their lawyers, and other Parisians who wanted to preserve an essential part of their legacies. It also is relevant in light of Reuter’s reporting on France’s application to UNESCO to have the booksellers and their boxes recognized as a site of “intangible cultural heritage.”
Even with Macron’s new decision, this issue is not completely resolved. Booksellers are concerned about the flood of tourists that will descend on their city, unsure if they will be able to keep up with the crowds, according to the New York Times. The contentiousness of the Games remains, and the French government should not be able to use this successful renegotiation to minimize the turbulent effects of hosting the Olympics.
Furthermore, the almost-removal of the booksellers reveals the heightened sanitization of culture and politics that occurs when the world’s attention is focused on one place for a short period of time. In Paris, the issues go beyond booksellers. From transit complications, with crowds that will raise prices, per Le Monde, and wreak havoc on the metropolitan underground, per Ouest-France, to the construction of new facilities in the poorest neighborhoods, as reported by Radio Canada, these Olympics are disproportionately affecting the people with the lowest incomes and the quietest voices. While the bouquinistes have a long tradition and history and were supported by academics and intellectuals, others do not have nearly as much sway.
With some Parisians still fighting for their right to exist in their city during the Games, there are essential questions about the intersection between the Olympics and culture that must be raised. In hosting the Games, authorities continue to believe that they can conceal harsh realities about their cities from the world. In Sochi, the Olympics were overshadowed by numerous doping scandals and the invasion of Crimea, according to the Guardian. Rio in 2016 took extensive measures to disguise the extent of its homeless population, as reported by Rio on Watch. In Tokyo, after a one-year delay, the Games were held in 2021 despite the protests of citizens who were worried about the spread of COVID-19, as indicated by USA Today. Most recently, the BBC reported on the controversy as the Beijing Games faced a diplomatic boycott for human rights abuses.
Host nations engage in a clear censorship of dissent when the world’s attention is focused. While success for the booksellers will allow them to continue to preserve their livelihoods and heritage, it also helps the French authorities to maintain a unified image ahead of the Games, unmarred by bouquinistes on vivid, indelible strike. In this agreement, France attempts to present a homogenized culture by pacifying the most outspoken and the most likely to attract wider attention.
With support from a vast literary canon, drawing from Camus and Hemmingway, the bouquinistes had the power to command attention that others displaced by the Games do not. In silencing the loud denunciation of the booksellers through compromise, Macron allows other, legitimate and pressing, claims about injustices in France to be erased. Citizens in the banlieue do not have nearly as much clout.
The Olympic Games have the incredible power to bring people together in the pursuit of extraordinary athletic accomplishments. Yet it is essential that organizers and audiences recognize that this unity cannot occur through forced conformity or projection of a false national image.
As the United States looks ahead to its own Los Angeles Games in 2028, it is essential that we consider the components of our own heritage—questioning whether we are protecting some parts of our culture at the expense of others. The Olympics continue to draw viewers from around the world, and we as hosts must consider which pieces of ourselves we are willing to sacrifice when we draw this attention.
More importantly, we must consider if we can use our attention for good, rather than for self-promotion. France’s attempt to create a flawless image of national unity demonstrates the immense power held by the global audience of the Olympics. If the world’s attention can be drawn so tightly to one city, and be so focused that even the protests of a single profession must be concealed, there is an opportunity to fight for good. Even more than the booksellers in their boxes, the international audience has the power to demand accountability and transparency. From their platform on the Seine, less than 250 bouquinistes created change. Imagine what three billion spectators can do.
Josephine Balistreri is the Opinion Editor at The Caravel. The views expressed in this article belong solely to the author.