French Connection
June 28th 2007 04:34
Well, hello everyone. I’m back from travels overseas and after copious hours of catching up on sleep and the slow realisation that my life has not changed, I feel ready to start talking books again (well slightly anyway - we’ll take it slow).
There were plenty of long flights during the trip so I did manage to get quite a few titles read. Among them were those dealing with France (and the French). I did mention one in an earlier blog, that being William Wharton’s Houseboat on the Seine. This was of particular interest as we did actually do a barge cruise while in France (which was simply wonderful) and the logistics of living on a boat and dealing with contractors, government officials and other river people was all very relevant.
Although the majority of Wharton’s story focuses on the salvation and reconstruction of his houseboat, there is plenty happening in the background. Like the family waiting patiently for their home to be deemed livable (it did sink to the bottom at one stage). French boat engineers with insane ideas of marrying two boats, and the many ‘floating neighbours’ that would swear at him in French one day and support him the next, even if he was a crazy American. Along with bakers, barbers, grocers and weekend fishermen it is a pretty clear and humorous picture of life on the Seine. Not over done or too corny, I believe Wharton had truly grown to love these people and their (his) life. They lived on the boat for over 25 years altogether, so something must have been right.
The other French Connection I read was Left Bank Waltz by Elaine Lewis, which I’m sorry to say I didn’t warm to quite as much. Australian Elaine Lewis, a close-to-retiring teacher, falls in love with Paris and decides it needs an Australian Bookshop. Needless to say by doing so she is filling a rather obvious gap in the Paris retail business, but of course her true aim is to open up the world of Australia and its artistic talent to France, and the world. A worthwhile and courageous thing to do (I love bookshops), but somewhere between the pages she lost me. In attempting to convey her struggles with the logistics and red tape of such an endeavour, Lewis simply became repetitive and dare I say it, boring. After being in Paris myself, I can understand her enamour with the city. Walking through its streets is like being lost in the folds of a gypsy’s skirt (wow, where did that came from!). I guess it’s the history and romance of the place, I’m not sure, but in Left Bank I felt none of that. Maybe it was the constant name dropping or all the praise for yet another successful soiree. What ever the reason, I find what she actually did very admirable and obviously from what the book tells us, difficult to the extreme. But in the telling, well, give me Wharton any day.
As for the French - After my visit I must say that I found them on the whole a congenial, friendly (if not over so) and above all, confident people. And why wouldn’t they be. Their culture is hundreds of years old and they know pretty well everything there is to know about themselves. Couple that with their wine and cheese, and you have a winner.
There were plenty of long flights during the trip so I did manage to get quite a few titles read. Among them were those dealing with France (and the French). I did mention one in an earlier blog, that being William Wharton’s Houseboat on the Seine. This was of particular interest as we did actually do a barge cruise while in France (which was simply wonderful) and the logistics of living on a boat and dealing with contractors, government officials and other river people was all very relevant.
Image: Random House
The other French Connection I read was Left Bank Waltz by Elaine Lewis, which I’m sorry to say I didn’t warm to quite as much. Australian Elaine Lewis, a close-to-retiring teacher, falls in love with Paris and decides it needs an Australian Bookshop. Needless to say by doing so she is filling a rather obvious gap in the Paris retail business, but of course her true aim is to open up the world of Australia and its artistic talent to France, and the world. A worthwhile and courageous thing to do (I love bookshops), but somewhere between the pages she lost me. In attempting to convey her struggles with the logistics and red tape of such an endeavour, Lewis simply became repetitive and dare I say it, boring. After being in Paris myself, I can understand her enamour with the city. Walking through its streets is like being lost in the folds of a gypsy’s skirt (wow, where did that came from!). I guess it’s the history and romance of the place, I’m not sure, but in Left Bank I felt none of that. Maybe it was the constant name dropping or all the praise for yet another successful soiree. What ever the reason, I find what she actually did very admirable and obviously from what the book tells us, difficult to the extreme. But in the telling, well, give me Wharton any day.
As for the French - After my visit I must say that I found them on the whole a congenial, friendly (if not over so) and above all, confident people. And why wouldn’t they be. Their culture is hundreds of years old and they know pretty well everything there is to know about themselves. Couple that with their wine and cheese, and you have a winner.
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