Rooftoppers

When Sophie first climbs out onto the roof of her Parisian hotel, she is ambushed by a bracing new perspective: Seen from far above, commonplace things accrue a magical novelty and meaning. Top hats now have a pleasing symmetry, looking “much less stupid” (105), and streets sprawl like branching rivers. Smells, sounds, and the brush of the wind are all different. As Matteo and his friends coach her in the ways of rooftopping, she discovers a new, multifaceted city-upon-a-city that she never knew was there. High above the streets of Paris, everyday things (like birds, toes, trees, and hairpins) have different meanings and uses, and music and voices waft from all parts of the city on the breeze. It seems almost like a world unto itself, like Peter Pan’s Neverland, but one that offers piercing insights and secret ingress (by way of windows and skylights) into the one that we know. On the rooftops, there are no guards and few locks, and the secrets of Paris are there for the taking, helping Sophie immeasurably in her quest to find her mother. She discovers herself to be uniquely suited, in mind and body, for rooftopping since she is drawn to heights, and her long, supple limbs prove ideal for bridging the gaps between buildings.