“Does such a thing as ‘the fatal flaw,’ that showy dark crack running down the middle of a life, exist outside literature? I used to think it didn’t. Now I think it does. And I think that mine is this: a morbid longing for the picturesque at all costs.”
The final resting place of author Oscar Wilde, ridden with kisses, is not the only famous grave in the Parisian Père Lachaise Cemetery. Singers Jim Morrison and Serge Gainsbourg also attract a wealth of fans and mourners who leave blessings at their gravesides, normally in the form of lighters and/or cigarettes.
“Here’s this man who believed when he died that his name would be toxic for generations to come. For hundreds of years his works wouldn’t be read. He would stand for nothing but perversion. Utter disgust of a society that couldn’t bear people like him… His tomb in Père Lachaise Cemetery, in Paris had to be restored because the polished stone of its surface had corroded through kisses. Wouldn’t it just be allowed once to just wake him up for five minutes just to tell him that, then he can go back to sleep again?“
– Stephen Fry, Jaipur Literature Festival on Wilde, January 2016
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