My first visit to the Palace of Versailles was last year, on the first Sunday in November. It was cold and windy and the flowers were all dead, the trees skeletal and bare, the grounds lush with mud and deep green topiaries, statues cold and stark. My most recent visit came earlier in a warmer autumn, and the grounds were still in full summer tourist season swing. This meant opulent fountain shows, beautifully manicured landscaping, bright sprays of colorful flowers, and a slightly-odd-slightly-amazing Baroque soundtrack that echoed all throughout the gardens. The weather also meant that we could delve deeper into the gardens and see more of what was once a display of French aristocratic power and is now a display of French cultural superiority. As I was the first time I saw the palace and its grounds, I was blown away by the opulence and expansiveness of it all. But this time, with a bit more of a knowledge base on French politics and history, I imagined Versailles not from Marie Antoinette’s perspective, but from the perspective of the gardeners, groundskeepers, servant girls, and guildsmen that worked there. I thought about the extravagant feasts the aristocrats used to have, served plates and plates of dishes cooked by chefs that would eventually establish the legacy of French cuisine, in front of an audience in order to display their wealth and status. When the revolution ended, these chefs were released from their monarchical duties, and the French restaurant was born. The history of the storied French restaurant began in revolution, as so much else in French history, in an attempt to bring aristocratic finery to the masses. There’s a bit of an insight on French culture for you – finery and sophistication as a national right.

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The phrase "consolidation of wealth" has never been more fitting than in 18th century France, and the Palace of Versailles is perhaps the best example of French monarchic wealth. There really is no describing it - words are too one-dimensional, and photographs cannot capture the immensity and depth of the palace, even in the darkest halls and smallest corners. It is truly one of the most ornate, vast, and breathtaking estates still standing. The palace is so grand that it, along with its most famous inhabitant Marie Antoinette, literally sparked the French Revolution. Since it is fall, the grounds are devoid of the famous blooms and fountains. Instead the statues stand bare and stark in the cold air, looking over disciplined topiaries and still fountains like they have for the past 200 years. I can't help but imagine how many have looked down the length of the gardens toward the horizon, what secret rendezvous have taken place in the topiary mazes, who has been born here and who has died here. I also can't help but wonder why we as a species are so drawn to wealth and power and possession and beauty: human greed, the most innate and unchanging historical truth. And of course, this innate tendency towards beauty is why I am traversing the grounds of Versailles pretending to be a princess who calls this her home.