November 13th Memorial: What should we think about it?

Ten years after the November 13, 2015 attacks, a memorial quietly opened last summer in the heart of Paris. It stands behind City Hall, in front of the Saint-Gervais church. But what exactly is the purpose of memorials in general, and what is the purpose of this particular memorial? A place for reflection, of course. But also to pass on the memory. And to achieve this, this type of place must first and foremost evoke emotion. Because without feeling, there is no memory.

The most famous example of a successful memorial is in Berlin. It consists of simple golden paving stones, created by an artist in the 1990s and placed in front of the buildings where Nazi victims lived. The names of these victims are engraved on each brass stone, prompting passersby who happen upon them to wonder about their meaning. Their reflection leads them to understand that each stone represents a victim who lived there, in the very spot where they stand. Through this process of thought, the passersby themselves become active participants in the memorial and bearers of memory.

In Paris, the memorial dedicated to the victims of November 13th also requires visitor participation, with people invited to stroll through it. The memorial garden is designed like a map of a Parisian neighborhood, with paths of varying sizes, representing narrow streets or avenues, leading to stelae that symbolize the six sites of the attacks: the Stade de France; Le Carillon and Le Petit Cambodge; La Bonne Bière and Le Casa Nostra; La Belle Équipe and Le Comptoir Voltaire; and the Bataclan.

One can wander through this garden in any order one chooses—there is no hierarchy in suffering—but the visitor must move from one point to another to reach each memorial stone. Moving through this "neighborhood map," they have time to relive the interminable evening of November 13th. During their stroll, their memory unfolds and recollections resurface. The visitor is now conducting an experiment. Through their actions, they become an active participant in the process of remembrance.

Calm, aesthetically pleasing, and conducive to contemplation, the November 13th Garden also possesses—a curious paradox—an almost playful dimension: children can play at getting lost in this labyrinth of paths without knowing or understanding what they represent. But this contrast between the innocence of childhood and the terror sown ten years ago carries within it a hope. It is the idea that life goes on. Let's say it simply, without going any further: despite the raw pain of the survivors, but also of the victims' families and all Parisians, this memorial garden is a success.