There are so many famous bodies to choose from in Pere Lachaise cemetery (Cimetière du Père-Lachaise) at 44 hectares the largest boneyard in Paris. Established in 1804 by Napoleon, it was slow to take off with the fashionable (and affluent) dead, so the owners made efforts to make it more appealing by importing some long-deceased “new” residents.
Moliere moved (or more accurately was moved by the proprietors) there, to be joined shortly afterwards by fellow literary lion La Fontaine. So famous they even have a section named for them (assuming the remains deposited there are really theirs, of course).
With great spectacle in 1817 - a red carpet event attended the Empress Josephine no less - the (purported) mortal remains of star crossed 12th century lovers Abélard and Héloïse found a new resting place in Pere Lachaise.
After that mortuary coup, the struggling cemetery never looked back and it moved into the big league of celebrity burial spots. It became the cemetery everyone wanted to be seen dead in, including American rock stars.
Like Jim Morrison lead singer of “The Doors” (1943-1971) who died in Paris and is interred at Pere Lachaise. Fittingly for a notorious bad boy and larger than life icon of rock and roll, the bronze plaque on his grave is inscribed in Greek: ΚΑΤΑ ΤΟΝ ΔΑΙΜΟΝΑ ΕΑΥΤΟΥ, meaning "true to his own spirit" - or if you want something a bit racier, "according to his own daemon". You can get away with that when you die unexpectedly in your bath at age 27.
And there is (apparently) no truth to the persistent (and delicious) story that the stone genitals on the winged sphinx guardian of Oscar Wilde’s tomb by modernist sculptor Jacob Epstein, were removed from the mythical creature in 1961 by two puritanical English ladies shocked by their size and prominence.
What is true is that at its unveiling in August 1914, a bronze plaque was strategically placed to cover the testicles whose size was considered unusual, if not immodest. This infuriated Epstein who refused to attend the ceremony. Oscar would have been very amused, no doubt.
It's the fash’nable spot,
Where the best people rot
Yes it's all the beau monde and his wife!
Let the jollity begin!
Come get yourself dug in!
With Gertrude Stein and Alice Toklas, Lalique and Poulenc
And Ingres and Signac and Seurat, dis donc?
Isadora, Miss Duncan, Enescu, Chopin,
Marcel Proust, Modigliani, the Menier clan,
Sarah Bernhardt's imposing.
Bizet's busy decomposing.
There's so many names here that ev’ryone will know
You can't leave the last word to Marcel Marceau.
There's a trio of superstars remaining of course.
Oscar Wilde, Edith Piaf and Jim Morrison of the Doors.