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the book collector the list would become—it now has 400 entries.18 I discovered that the majority of the words were fanciful, imaginative, allusory or metaphorical; many were facetious and derogatory; and some were outright expressions of disgust, à la Proudhon, including salope, latrine, and cul crotté (filthy woman, latrine and shit ass.) The crudest words were, like anarchism’s father, in the minority, but they do exist. Having collected so many words, I decided that a good place to study their evolution would be at the beginning, in the first French dictionary, Jean Nicot’s Thrésor de la langue françoyse, tant ancienne que moderne (1606), in which Nicot includes courtisane, cantonnière, fille de joye [sic], paillard, chienne and putain.19 From this base, the vocabulary would multiply over the centuries, but Nicot’s six words would remain stalwarts, persisting along with the classification of prostitutes based on the rank of their clients. The courtisane would remain at the top—the lover of aristocrats and the rich—while the clients of the filles de joie and paillards were from lower ranks, but whatever their station, men had no trouble finding women to hire for sex: prostitution is as much a part of Parisian history as Notre Dame, and as important—the city, its streets and its prostitutes have had a long-term relationship. As my little dictionary indicated, women and streets were intimately linked: the pavement nymphs and roadside flowers—the fleurs du macadam—were categorized by the street names or area where they worked, and had been for centuries. A study of some of Paris’ old street names reveals the longevity of the link. The t i n y rue du Pélican mightstrikeoneasmerelyfancifulsince pelicans don’t roost in Paris, but the name derives not from sea birds but from its bawdy 14th century name: the rue Poil au Con (Puss Hair Street), so-named for the many prostitutes whoworked there; with a nod to propriety, the street later assumed its less vulgar homophone. Similarly, the medieval rue Pute-y-Muce (Hidden Whore Street) 18. For comparison, I began another list, one of words for prostitute in English; it has upwards of 150 words so far. However, in a language contest for the most words describing vices, English would surely win—there are over 3,000 words for being drunk, according to linguist James Harbeck. 19. Nicot (1530–1600) has the distinction not only of compiling the first French dictionary, but also of having introduced tobacco to France—and having nicotine named after him. 58
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pavement nymphs and roadside flowers Boulevard St. Denis. Chromolithograph. Paris: Eugène Jouy et fils, c. 1855. A prostitute from the Boulevard St. Denis fondles her jewelry while exposing some flesh. Such images provided source material for later artists, including Manet; the link is especially evident in his Olympia (1863). © Victoria Dailey would later become the rue du Petit Musc (Little Musk Street). The lure of the streets was so potent that each image in Les Lionnes de Paris, a set of chromolithographs depicting individual prostitutes published circa 1855, shows each one identified only by the dress and décor of the street or neighborhood where she could be found: each title is the name of a street. The cocotte from the Boulevard St. Denis (currently and historically known for prostitution) reclines seductively on her lush bed, her left breast exposed as she fondles a gold necklace—prostitutes were typically portrayed as rapacious deceivers. As the Goncourts declared, ‘Women only consider their sex as a livelihood!…their sex is a career.’20 20. ‘ …comme les femmes regardent leur sexe comme un gagne-pain!…leur sexe est une carrière…’  Edmond et Jules de Goncourt. Journal. Mémoires de la vie littéraire. Monaco, 1956–58, Vol. 2, p. 116. 59

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the book collector the list would become—it now has 400 entries.18 I discovered that the majority of the words were fanciful, imaginative, allusory or metaphorical; many were facetious and derogatory; and some were outright expressions of disgust, à la Proudhon, including salope, latrine, and cul crotté (filthy woman, latrine and shit ass.) The crudest words were, like anarchism’s father, in the minority, but they do exist.

Having collected so many words, I decided that a good place to study their evolution would be at the beginning, in the first French dictionary, Jean Nicot’s Thrésor de la langue françoyse, tant ancienne que moderne (1606), in which Nicot includes courtisane, cantonnière, fille de joye [sic], paillard, chienne and putain.19 From this base, the vocabulary would multiply over the centuries, but Nicot’s six words would remain stalwarts, persisting along with the classification of prostitutes based on the rank of their clients. The courtisane would remain at the top—the lover of aristocrats and the rich—while the clients of the filles de joie and paillards were from lower ranks, but whatever their station, men had no trouble finding women to hire for sex: prostitution is as much a part of Parisian history as Notre Dame, and as important—the city, its streets and its prostitutes have had a long-term relationship. As my little dictionary indicated, women and streets were intimately linked: the pavement nymphs and roadside flowers—the fleurs du macadam—were categorized by the street names or area where they worked, and had been for centuries.

A study of some of Paris’ old street names reveals the longevity of the link. The t i n y rue du Pélican mightstrikeoneasmerelyfancifulsince pelicans don’t roost in Paris, but the name derives not from sea birds but from its bawdy 14th century name: the rue Poil au Con (Puss Hair Street), so-named for the many prostitutes whoworked there; with a nod to propriety, the street later assumed its less vulgar homophone. Similarly, the medieval rue Pute-y-Muce (Hidden Whore Street)

18. For comparison, I began another list, one of words for prostitute in English; it has upwards of 150 words so far. However, in a language contest for the most words describing vices, English would surely win—there are over 3,000 words for being drunk, according to linguist James Harbeck. 19. Nicot (1530–1600) has the distinction not only of compiling the first French dictionary, but also of having introduced tobacco to France—and having nicotine named after him.

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