Paris Mini-Mart War: Art, Toilet Paper, and Local Panic

A juicy controversy is causing a stir in the very chic and exclusive sixth arrondissement of Paris. Just a stone’s throw from the Palais du Luxembourg, some of the most expensive apartments in Paris are being snapped up. A small world of artists, writers and actors live there—protective of their quality of life, of being able to breathe in the delicious aroma of freshly roasted coffee served on the terraces and hear the birds chirping in the distance from one of the capital’s most elegant parks. For them, nothing should disturb this fragile and delicate ecosystem, which was honoured in Emily in Paris. That’s why the news of a new mini-mart opening at the intersection of Rue Vavin and Rue Bréa has caused a local panic, almost similar to the one that must have shaken the ancient city when the Vikings arrived on the banks of the Seine one fine day in November 885.

Just imagine the scandal: Jean-Pierre Lecoq, mayor of the 6th arrondissement, had the audacity to grant ‘Carrefour City’ permission to set up shop on a small square where a toy store, now bankrupt, once stood. A decline in standards, no doubt. Instead of eco-certified wooden toys, the shelves will now be filled with packs of sausages and toilet paper. Such an affront is unthinkable for the neighbours. 

It must be said that the neighbourhood is frequented by some of the city’s most prominent residents, including actress Catherine Frot, businessman and media mogul Denis Olivennes, journalist Ruth Elkrief, essayist Alain Finkielkraut and singer Alain Souchon, to name but a few.

For these respectable people, accustomed to living in luxury thanks to government subsidies enjoyed by the art and media world, the opening of a mini-market is a nuisance, not to say a crime. A petition has therefore been launched by a journalist to oppose the project and has already collected 3,000 signatures—a list that reads like a who’s who.

The grievances listed include aesthetic concerns, which do credit to the signatories: the mini-market risks clashing with the surrounding cafés, the iconic Wallace fountain and the Art Deco building designed by Henri Sauvage, which form the scenery to this psychodrama. But above all, local residents fear “nuisances,” “risks to their safety,” and “the fear of seeing rubbish pile up.” They dread seeing delivery drivers coming from you-know-where, beggars, drunks looking for alcohol for their evenings, and shady-looking guys wandering around looking for trouble arrive in their little world—in short, all the rabble they strive to keep at a distance in their Instagram-worthy daily lives, but which the average French person is condemned to rub shoulders with just about everywhere and every day.

The mayor is not fooled by the crocodile tears of the signatories, who want to preserve the small local shops that they themselves have helped to destroy: “A large proportion of the petitioners have worked or still work in finance. They have contributed to the grip of finance over the economy and, thus, to the demise of the least profitable local businesses,” he recalls.

Since the ‘far right’ and the ‘fachosphere’ have taken up the issue and denounced that hypocrisy, a certain unease has gripped the petition’s signatories. Some claim that they oppose the mini-market but did not sign anything. Others explain that the petition was obviously ‘poorly worded.’ Still others insist that their intentions have been misunderstood and that they do not want to ‘stigmatise’ anyone.

Socialist MP Céline Hervieu, elected in the 6th arrondissement, added her own little verse to this long litany of grievances. She, who defends the establishment of drug consumption rooms in constituencies other than her own, intends to keep her voters happy and preserve their protected habitat: “In life, we want to keep our specificities, access to beauty, and quality of life,” she explained to the media to justify her opposition to the establishment of the controversial Carrefour City. How moving: in another context, these words could almost have been put into the mouth of Renaud Camus or Roger Scruton. We are therefore pleased to learn that the French Socialist Left, allied with the far Left within the New Popular Front, has made the preservation of beauty and the French art de vivre one of its political battles.

What a pity that not everyone in France’s medium-sized towns, deprived and ugly, covered with soulless shopping centres, is lucky enough to be defended by a socialist MP concerned with preserving what makes France one of the most admired countries in the world—for its traditions, its landscapes and its quality of life.

And yet this fight is worth fighting. Not only in the 6th arrondissement of Paris, but everywhere. Every French person deserves to see their country, their village, the priceless heritage of civilisation of which they are the custodians, defended by those who are supposed to represent them. But today, only those who are close to the ‘fachosphere’ and the ‘far right’ (damn them! Not them again!) really care about offering the best to everyone, and not just to a privileged few.