Gazing down Rue Dupin, one can almost feel the whispers of history swirling amidst the Parisian air. Rue Dupin, a seemingly unassuming street in the 6th arrondissement, holds within its 144 meters a captivating narrative. Rue Dupin stretches from Rue de Sèvres to Rue du Cherche-Midi. Its width, a mere 12 meters, belies the depth of its story.
Rue Dupin came into existence in 1625. Initially known as “Rue du Baril-Neuf” (New Barrel Street), after a local shop sign, it later became “Petite Rue du Bac” (Little Street of the Ferry). This name, “du Bac”, connects Rue Dupin to a network of streets that once led to a ferry crossing on the Seine. Imagine the hustle and bustle of Parisians traversing these streets, making their way to the river’s edge.
In 1864, the street received its current name, honoring André Dupin (1783-1865), a prominent lawyer and politician. A curious incident occurred in 1890 when republican democrats proposed renaming the street after Gabriel Robinet. However, this initiative never gained traction, and Rue Dupin retained its name.
At number 5 Rue Dupin, a poignant story unfolds. This building once housed a post office, which became the namesake of a book of conversations between Marguerite Duras and François Mitterrand, “Le Bureau de poste de la rue Dupin”. Duras and Robert Antelme lived in the apartment above the post office. In the spring of 1944, a clandestine meeting between Duras and Mitterrand was planned in this very apartment. A twist of fate intervened. The Gestapo was about to raid the building. Duras and Mitterrand narrowly escaped arrest. Imagine the tension, the fear, the palpable sense of danger as they slipped away, the echoes of their hurried footsteps fading into the Parisian night. This near-arrest adds another layer of intrigue to the history of Rue Dupin.
Today, as you stand on Rue Dupin, the echoes of the past mingle with the vibrant energy of the present. From its humble beginnings as a street named after a barrel to its current namesake, a man of law and politics, Rue Dupin has silently witnessed centuries of Parisian life.