Notre-Dame survived centuries of neglect. It survived the Revolution, two Napoleons, the Commune, and the German invasions. In the end, it couldn’t survive a restoration job during Holy Week. There is a story there about the arbitrariness of life and the futility of human aspirations, but I’m not in the mood to go there right now.
In a sense, Notre-Dame is completely and quintessentially French. In another sense, however, it belongs to all of civilization, including you and me. We are all a little bit poorer today. At least, it certainly feels that way to me.
Frankly, I’m in shock. I can’t wrap my brain around the thought that Notre-Dame is probably going to look like Tintern Abbey the next time I go to Paris. It will most likely never be the same again in my lifetime.