Why Can’t We Grasp the Eiffel Tower
The Eiffel Tower is probably my favorite of the collection of myths from Roland Barthes, since it’s a deduction of our sign system against a “resistant” object, to prove its limits as a means of communication and its paradoxical nature.
There is a lot to unpack with the contradictory qualities of the “utterly useless monument”, which we actually learn is pretty useful (Barthes, 5). The point that stands out to me this most is that, physically, the tower is an uncontainable object that we try to domesticate. One way we do this is through “the installation of a restaurant […and other] means of leisure” (Barthes, 16). The fact that the tower is an open construction makes us uncomfortable when we are used to typical tourist hotspots (like the Louvre) being enclosed for us to feel like we entered, experienced, and “owned” some of it. The tower doesn’t do that for us. So we have to create a mini world surrounding the tower in order to make it feel normal. I never thought about that. It’s so weird for us in our conception of the order of the world (much like our syntax!) to have a monument that’s simultaneously a representation of the inside and outside. It’s too far outside of the social contract for the tower to be both sides of anything that usually presents itself as binary, and so we try to reduce the tower. But also, I think it’s interesting to see how maybe the tower makes us so uncomfortable because it’s become oddly more powerful than us. The tower can be a spectacle and an object, useless and useful, inside and outside. We cannot be those things. If we are looking at the tower, we can’t be in it. None of our relations to the tower can come together at the same time. We are perceiving it as one of its opposite meanings at a time, and we have to kind of deal with the impossibility of bringing together two things that are true and simultaneous but also cannot cooccur. I think one way we do this is by glossing over it all and pretending it can occur at the same time– a comforting thought facilitated by the constructed surrounding environment.
However, by doing this, what simultaneously happens is that the tower becomes a signifier of basically an infinite sight of projection. It is reduced to a symbol of Paris, of travel, of industrialism, of some kind of focal point in France. The tower being a signifier for everything really just makes it nothing. And when we come face-to-face with this (structural and symbolic) emptiness, we rush to find ways to create more perceived “somethingness”(we add restaurants, shops, carts of food, and other community experiences all around the tower) to fit into our schemas and orders.
But we see that our efforts to reduce the Eiffel Tower from everything to just one thing also fail. The argument here would be similar to Nietzsche’s line of thought: the tower is immune to falling apart in this way because it is art. Much like Nietzsche’s argument that art is truth that allows you to live in a personal abstraction and intuition, the tower being art means it surpasses our rationalization, deconstruction, and assimilation of it into variations of speech/language or other binary schemas. It exists to emphasize its inability to be known by us and to serve mythical purposes–like the ones the Ancient Greeks lived by.


