I suppose that if I ever go to Paris the first person I meet will be myself since I have been there in one way or another for so long […]. — Wallace Stevens, letter of February 10, 1950 So we’re in the final days of December 1952 and we’re paying a visit to the heart of Paris: the Sainte-Chapelle on the Île de la Cité in the middle of the Seine. It’s the most centrally located space in the city that is devoted to aesthetic sensation and spiritual introspection, a building whose sta...