Hard-Hearted

Sandrine's office was a far cry from the airy chambers that the Sorbonne’s exterior conjured up. That said, the building’s towering facade – like so many of the city’s landmarks, a gift of the late nineteenth century – had long functioned as a screen to hide from passing eyes a series of frantic reworkings of the interior in order to accommodate an ever-increasing number of students and staff. What had been conceived of as a palace of vast amphitheatres, monumental staircases, wide corridors and shady internal courtyards had been transformed into the equivalent of an academic shantytown by ruthless partitioning and hasty extensions. Despite which, lecturers and teaching assistants still coveted a place in the university’s historic centre rather than find themselves dispatched to one of its numerous annexes scattered throughout the city.