Twin monoliths extend into the sky, bearing

between them the image of a rayed sun. From within the

black wells of their etched columns issue the
deep-throated peals of great bells, ringing in the
early light, hailing themselves as well as the dawn,
announcing their own majesty as well as that of the
God they were built to honor. These are the
bell-towers of the Notre Dame Cathedral, an enormous
and ancient church that stands still in Paris, France.
It is within these towers that Quasimodo dwelt, the
tragic hunchback of Victor Hugo?s classic fiction. By
looking up at them, one is struck with a sense of
dread and awe, for it is a massive structure, immense
in scale and yet minute in detail. It is clear that
its builders spared no expense, that they went to
great length to ensure that their cathedral would
stand as a lasting testimony to their faith, to
proclaim their Lord?s magnificence for centuries to
come.
The cathedral is wrought chiefly out of stone
brick, further indication of its durable intent. Long
windows and porticos line its entire length, making it
a place of tall shadows and quiet, even somber
reflection. Its numerous pillars and arches are richly
sculpted, lending them a texture that feels so
infinitely intricate that one feels he could examine
them and never find the end, delving forever more
deeply into the minutiae of complexity. The form of
the arch is commonplace, tapering into a sharp point
at the apex, instead of the more ordinary semicircular
shape, and in these the detail of sculpture feels more
as though it has been woven from stone thread rather
than graven into the rock. Into the walls and columns
are carved many saints and religious figures, statues
of men, women, and angels, and in any one of these as
much proficiency and love of craftsmanship can be seen
as in the whole building in its entirety. In form they
are depicted very skillfully and realistically, while
maintaining a subtle sense of abstraction. The bodies
are very long and thin-limbed, seeming almost
stretched; the faces are narrow and a little
emaciated. The expressions are peaceful, as though
they have found eternal rest, yet have an air of
melancholy, not quite descending into dejectedness but
effectively maintaining an atmosphere of sobriety. The
men are bearded and their hair varies in length from
just below the ears to shoulder-length or a little
longer; it has in almost all cases a wavy quality.
Female hair can be but is not always longer than that
of males, and is sometimes braided or hidden under
hoods. Many of the figures have crowns on their heads;
all are clad in long, hanging robes that fold in and
over themselves innumerable times, adding an element
of enhanced regality and realism. Many of these
figures have a thin right arm raised to their breast;
some hold books or scrolls that may be representative
of religious manuscripts.
Around the sides and back of the cathedral there
extends a walkway, something of a cross between a
courtyard and a portico. It has no roof, but arches
extend over it from the core of the building,
resembling ribs spreading out from a spinal column
over some desiccated animal. These are wide at either
end (much more so at ground-level than at the zenith),
but become quite narrow in the middle. Combinations of
smooth, flowing lines which run gracefully into sharp
and eccentric angles, abrupt flairs and changes of
shape, and the presence of rigidity in harmony with
looseness, all while maintaining a sense of elegance
and control, are trademark of the Gothic architectural
aesthetic, and the Notre Dame Cathedral is no
exception to this motif. The hard, diamond shape of a
checker pattern may be found directly next to a
naturalistic floral design, and the two will coexist
in complete agreement, the two themes creating not
discord but a richer and more varied unity.
Most of the interior consists of a great hall,
reaching nearly from the front to the back of the
cathedral, with a cross-section a little more than
midway down its length, leading into two separate
chambers. The ceiling is extremely high and vaulted,
repeating the pattern of the tapered arch. The floor
is richly carpeted in ornate patterns, with an
emphasis on rich wine reds and muted yellows. The
light in the hall is of a luxuriant golden-brown hue,
standing out in contrast to the stark, monochromatic
gray stone of the outer walls, adding a bit of warmth
to the somber environment, and transforming the
atmosphere from a dismal ambiance to a passive center
of learning, reflection, introspection, and worship.
It is a grave and sober place, it is not depressing of
itself, but is purposeful in every stroke.
Above the crosspiece in the roof there is a great
spire, a black spike-like steeple that seems to grow
from the church as a thorn from a stem, ascending
towards heaven. At the forward end of the cathedral
hall, near the ceiling, there is a large, round window
presenting the image of the sun set in glass. From the
high ceilings to the vaulted archways, from the
bell-towers to the columned halls, the entire
structure has an emphasis on the direction up.
Everything ascends, everything transcends, as if the
whole purpose of the cathedral were an effort to get
closer to God, to become better, wiser, and more holy
simply by being in this building. The Notre Dame
Cathedral is an act of self-improvement and of
reverence to an Almighty King.