SubscribeLa Fourche
La Fourche is the name of a Y-shaped intersection in Montmartre where the avenue de Saint Ouen branches away from the avenue de Clichy. Fourche means “fork”, indicating the branching of the streets, but the word can also be used in French to indicate “crotch”, a double-meaning which Miller found appropriate. During the 1930’s La Fourche enjoyed a bustling sex trade and the sidewalks and cafés were usually full of prostitutes and their pimps:
And now I am running the gauntlet, I and myself firmly glued together. The little stretch from the Place Clichy to La Fourche. From the blind alleys that line the little stretch thick clusters of whores leap out, like bats blinded by the light. They get in my hair, my ears, my eyes. They cling with bloodsucking paws.
—Black Spring
On one of his daily walks between Paris and Clichy, Miller witnessed a scene at La Fourche which he described to Emil Schnellock as capturing the real spirit of Paris:
When I leave the café to pursue my usual way along the Avenue de Clichy towards the Porte, I suddenly come upon a drunkard dancing in front of another café—Chez Richard, at La Fourche—and now again a fine feeling of approbation comes over me. On the edge of the curb is a blind man strumming the strangest instrument I have ever seen; the terrasse is crowded with working men and women … we are approaching the low quarters of the city. And a few paces off, moving with imbecilic rhythm, is this drunkard, and the crowd on the terrasse watches in amusement, [...] the curious thing happens that on the other side of the street, a whore who had been standing against the shutters waiting for her prey, suddenly grows inspired, grows intoxicated by the music and by the crazy drunkard’s antics too, no doubt, and she lifts her dresses with a grand whoop-la and commences to do a jig. And there, by God, you have the real spirit of Paris. The man of the streets, the woman of the streets, the open café, the tolerance, the amusement, the wasting of time, the indifference, the common humanity.
—Letters to Emil
In Black Spring, La Fourche becomes the spiritual crossroads where Miller can ponder the different paths available to him in life and commune with his own past and potential identities:
Afternoons, sitting at La Fourche, I ask myself calmly, “Where do we go from here?” By nightfall I may have traveled to the moon and back. Here at the crossroads I sit and dream back through all my separate and immortal egos. I weep in my beer. Nights, walking back to Clichy, it’s the same feeling. Whenever I come to La Fourche I see endless roads radiating from my feet and out of my own shoes there step forth the countless egos which inhabit my world of being.
—Black Spring
Today, La Fourche is a busy, but unremarkable intersection. There is a metro stop here, but no sign of a Chez Richard or dancing whores. To continue our walk, follow the avenue de Clichy as it branches to your left.
Location
Corner of avenue de Clichy and avenue Saint Ouen – See it on Google Maps
Next Stop
Next, we’ll be visiting the site of Miller’s former home on the avenue Anatole France in Clichy. 
