Les Archéologues 2/2

Atelier d’écriture. En retrouvant la Maison de Victor Hugo dans ce nouvel atelier d’écriture, j’ai eu envie d’écrire un épilogue au récit d’exploration imaginé l’an dernier. Il est inspiré par un exercice d’imitation d’un chapitre des Travailleurs de la mer, roman auquel l’exposition temporaire “François Chifflart. L’insoumis” consacrait une salle.

Cartel de l’appartement de la Maison de Victor Hugo. Mais où sommes-nous?
Épilogue des Archéologues
After spending the whole afternoon in the archives, indexing and organising the day’s acquisitions, and ending up properly spent, the conversation about the apartment resumed. That night, inside John’s office, around cheap pizzas and Tom’s nice bottle of scotch, questions arose again.
The hypothesis that most seemed to support was that the entire building was in fact a home for the same household. This would explain why the third floor was occupied entirely by a library. But what about the cardboard plaque that described the second floor as the apartment of this Victor Hugo ? What about the distinct lack of bathrooms? People needed bathrooms in their place of residence, as proven by every other building dating back to the same period. And the bedroom with no doors? There was only one bed, did this entire apartment belong to only one person? Did this entire building belong to one person? What about the first floor, where all the walls were covered in paintings, with nothing else. Why would one person need no bathroom but so many paintings? And no kitchen?
Then there was the matter of the ground floor, which included what looked like a little canteen. Mouldy and blackened masses of what probably used to be food were littered behind a glass display case. This was what most resembled a real kitchen, with a sink and cupboards, but there was too much cutlery and not enough utensils. In the past, maybe this place had been raided by thieves only interested in pots and pans. Next to this kitchen/canteen was a small room filled with numerous mugs, glasses, pencils and ink pencils, little sticky images, and other various items. It made absolutely no sense whatsoever, but didn’t seem out of place in this strange building.
Suddenly, it was suggested that this place, instead of being an actual place of residence, was in fact a sort of archival facility not unlike ours. The paintings would have been displayed instead of hidden, and it may have been a business, which would explain the presence of this canteen—therefore not used as a real kitchen, but more like a bar—and the shop filled with little items that the visitors could take as souvenirs.
This got everyone to wonder about what treasures we may still find in this place. There must have been another room used as storage for the art that wasn’t on display, and who knows what wonders may still lay inside.
Sacha and Mark started chatting excitedly about all the possibilities, so loudly that Elias poked his head in the office to see what all the fuss was about. Much to John’s chagrin—he was whining, but couldn’t say anything because Elias was actually the big boss and had already approved of it—the decision was made to go exploring again at a later time to uncover the secrets of the mysterious 6 Pl. des Vosges, 75004 Paris.
Elora Lipowski
Licence Mondes littéraires création critique
Université Paris 8
Atelier d’écriture “Objets d’écrivains, objets d’écriture” (2024-2025)
OpenEdition vous propose de citer ce billet de la manière suivante :
Caroline Marie (21 avril 2025). Les Archéologues 2/2. MuséaLitté. Consulté le 12 mars 2026 à l’adresse https://doi.org/10.58079/13s35
