The Paris Wife

Yikes!  Two weeks since my last post!  Not sure what happened there other than possibly the excitement of hockey season being over and revelling in the temporary window of extra time.

I have been thinking a lot about Paris lately.  This is largely due to the fact that I recently read The Paris Wife.  Also, it's been almost two years since my last time in Paris.  Anyone and everyone who knows me, knows that Paris is my very favourite city in the world.  In fact, I would love to be a wife in Paris.

The minute I land, I am full of joy (except for the time when I am in Charles de Gaulle airport but then as soon as I am out, I am back to being full of joy).  It was during that trip two years ago that I threw myself the best party I have ever had in my life (well, maybe except for my wedding), to celebrate turning 40.  It is also during that trip that I received a surprise birthday present in the form of conceiving my third child.

There is Only One Julia

I'll give Julie Powell full credit.  Yes, Julie Powell of the "Julie/Julia Project".  Julie Powell, the one who proved writing a cute blog doesn't make you an author.  Yes, I liked her first book well enough as you can see here. However I absolutely despised her second memoir Cleaving.  It was so bad.  That's all I'm going to say about it. I'm not even reviewing it.

Anyway...back to Julia.  The real and powerful, one and only Julia Child.  In the movie adaptation of Julie/Julia, Julia is given more time (yay) and Meryl Street portrays her with humour and aplomb.  So I picked up My Life in France, Julia Child's memoir of her time, primarily in Paris, with her husband Paul and learning how to cook.

The City of Light

Anybody who has known me for any length of time, knows that I am a Paris junkie. It's my favourite city in the world. I recently threw myself une Grande Fete in Paris to celebrate/mourn turning 40. From the moment we arrived, I was full of joy.

Before leaving, I read Paris to the Moon a collection of articles by Adam Gopnik. In 1995, Gopnik, a longtime writer for New Yorker magazine, decided to move to Paris with his wife and infant son. He basically lived my dream. Paris to the Moon captures Gopnik's daily life: the fun of hanging out in Paris and the challenges of hanging out in Paris.

I loved reading about his experiences. I found myself intrigued, charmed and tremendously jealous. Afternoons in the Luxembourg Gardens with his son, afternoons at the pool at the Ritz Carlton hotel with his son and friends, getting in the middle of an uprising over the local bistro's occupation by the big bad restaurant chain Flo. Lovely.

However, Gopnik's writing drove me crazy. Although I'm an English major, I like to think that I am not too anal about grammar. Gopnik's writing was a grammatical nightmare! I found myself getting so distracted by run on sentences, dangling participles and the like, that I would have to stop reading. I eventually got used to it but I didn't like it.

One day, I would love to live in Paris with my family, soaking in all that Paris has to offer...warts and all. Until then, I will keep reading great books about and set in Paris, and longingly remember the last cafe creme I had on a beautiful spring day in the Marais. Heavy sigh.

Paris to the Moon
Adam Gopnik
Random House