![]() Only the great rose of the façade, whose thousand colours were engulfed by a horizontal sunbeam, shone in the shadows like a jumble of diamonds and echoed their dazzling spectre at the other end of the nave. Notre-Dame de Paris is first and foremost a story about art, mainly, architecture. The counter-naves were full of darkness, and the lamps of the chapels were beginning to twinkle, the vaults becoming black. Against this background, Victor Hugo unfolds the haunting drama of Quasimodo, the hunchback Esmeralda, the gypsy dancer. “The cathedral was already dark and deserted. Its rays, more and more horizontal, are slowly withdrawing from the pavement of the square, and rise along the steep façade, with the thousand round bumps protruding from their shadows, while the great central rose blazes like the eye of a cyclops inflamed by the reverberations of the forge.” A light in the heart of darkness ![]() It is the moment when the sun, already heading for the horizon, looks almost directly opposite the cathedral. Especially on those days of clarity, warmth and serenity, there comes a time when we must admire the portal of Notre-Dame. ![]() “It was one of those spring days of such sweetness and beauty that all of Paris, spread across squares and promenades, celebrated like a Sunday. ![]()
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