is a kind of a paint-by-the-numbers
approach that connects together the
various pieces of the race once they
are played out. This is a view that is
essentially static and linear, it draws a
line from Passage du Gois to Paris and
fills the space between with the ticking
of seconds, minutes and hours of the
clock. The French may see things
differently: everyone involved in the
race, from riders and team directors
to media and fans, are themselves
also immersed in every detail of the
action. And when the riders are not
on the road—before or after a stage,
or during a rest day—the preparation,
strategy, commentary and interest in
how things will unfold continues. The
nation becomes and lives the race.
And yet there are the inevitable
moments of climax within the
continuum (what Barthes calls
“the strongest personification”)
that contain the highest level of
signification. He speaks of the “relay”
(stage) of Mt. Ventoux and how it
represents this kind of immersion into
the Tour as epic:
A veritable Moloch, depot of the
cyclists, it never forgives the weak
and exacts an unjust tribute of
sufferings. Physically, Ventoux
is dreadful: bare, bald (stricken
with a dry seborrhea, according
to L’Equipe), it is the very spirit of
the Dry; its absolute climate (it is
much more an essence of climate
than geological space) makes it
into an accursed terrain, a test
site for the hero, something like a
higher hell in which the cyclist will
define the truth of his salvation:
he will vanquish the dragon either
with the help of a god (Gaul,
Phoebus’s friend), or else by a pure
Prometheanism, opposing this god
of Evil by a still harsher demon
(Bobet, Satan of the bicycle).
