Cultured Travel Guide Books - Paris to the Moon |
 |
List Price: $15.00
Our Price: $1.39
Your Save: $ 13.61 ( 91% )
Availability: Usually ships in 24 hours
|
|
Binding: Paperback
Dewey Decimal Number: 944.3600413
EAN: 9780375758232
ISBN: 0375758232
Label: Random House Trade Paperbacks
Manufacturer: Random House Trade Paperbacks
Number Of Items: 1
Number Of Pages: 368
Publication Date: 2001-09-11
Publisher: Random House Trade Paperbacks
Release Date: 2001-09-11
Studio: Random House Trade Paperbacks |
| Spotlight Customer Reviews: |
Customer Rating:  
Summary: liked it as a different kind of Paris guide book
Comment: I love Paris and I love reading books about experiences in Paris. Granted, the authors view is from quite a privileged standpoint. However, he does struggle with the every day mundane problems that make this book a good read. It is a different from the Peter Mayle books, since he does not really offer any new insights into the life of the french, but I think it is absolutely worth it if you haven't been to Paris for a while and just want to escape to it in your own mind.
Customer Rating:
Summary: Sip it like champagne.
Comment: I sipped this book much like one sips a glass of champagne. I began reading it the last week of May, and it took me until early this morning to complete it. Allow me to explain.
Gopnik is a columnist for The New Yorker, which means that his style can be...well, a bit thick. His prose is often syrupy like pouring thick molasses from a jar. It's best enjoyed in small bites. I would often read only a chapter at a time to digest what I'd read: in-depth descriptions of French bureaucracy, a sit-in at the brasserie Balzar, and other complicated scenarios that required contemplation. Another problem, if you can deign to call it such, is that Gopnik failed to define certain French terms to the reader who might not be familiar with the French language.
Perhaps the most enjoyable portions of the book are when Gopnik writes about his family, in particular his son Luke. Luke is an interesting character because he isn't quite American but neither is he quite French. He's held in limbo because of his expat parents. Curiously, Luke seemed to me more adult than child at times. In particular, his expressions are uniquely European. For instance, when he has a crush on a fellow schoolgirl, he says, "She's quite a dish!" What a way to describe someone, especially coming from a child of four or five!
Gopnik really doesn't write much about his wife, Martha. We know that she played a large part in the decision to move from New York City to Paris, but she actually plays a minor role in his book and is mentioned surprisingly infrequently.
Overall, it was an interesting piece about French culture if a bit difficult to read at times. I do think it would have been easier to read if I was a regular reader of his column at the time the family resided in Paris. And perhaps the average reader couldn't relate to just moving to Paris in a whim. But because I moved to a city on just such a whim, I felt a kinship with Gopnik and his family. It is his appreciation and attempts to understand the culture he suddenly became immersed in that caused me to continue to turn the pages.
Customer Rating:
Summary: Yes if you're a francophile, no if you like good literature
Comment: This is a book for francophiles. It might be a good resource on French culture and attitudes if you will be spending an extended time traveling or working in France. But if you are looking for good literature, skip it.
Should have known by just opening the cover - the first SENTENCE in the book has 9 (count 'em - NINE) commas in it. The prose is self-centered, self-conscious, and self-congratulatory.
You are regaled by sentences like this one: "The lucidity of Parisian empiricism was bought at the price of the grandiosity of Parisian abstraction, and you couldn't have one without the other".
Gopnik is the sort of author who thinks when he breaks a fingernail, it's significant and we need to know. You get an entire chapter devoted to a bedtime story he made up for his son, end to end.
The author needs to get over himself, and the editor needs to go back to flipping burgers. Spend your valuable leisure hours reading something else!
Customer Rating:
Summary: Precision or the Sanctity of Superfluous Civilization
Comment: PARIS TO THE MOON is a collection of essays by a NEW YORKER writer. Gopnik and his wife moved to Paris in 1995. When a young teen, he visited Paris in 1773. After the couple's child was born in 1994 they endeavored to fulfill Adam's desire to live in Paris while their son was still portable. The romance of Paris became the author's subject for his NEW YORKER pieces. There was no big story in France. There was a lot of peace amd prosperity in the world and a lot animosity directed toward the United States. When Adam Gopnik thinks of Paris he thinks of his wife Martha and his son Luke.
French politicians engage in ostentatious displays of detachment. The Parisian government has a clutch of domaine prive apartments. In reality, most apartments in Paris are not available to rent in a market sense. It seems that one of the politicians lodged his entire family in various domaine prive apartments. French life in general is chock full of entitlements. North African immigrants, though, have no entree. The French elites have now decided that the cure for hidden deals is transparency. Gopnik describes a strike. France is a centralized country and anything that mainly affects Paris is a national event. French people deal with an event by pretending it isn't happening. (Picasso and Sartre pretended the Germans didn't occupy Paris.)
The writer's son Luke enjoys the Luxembourg Gardens, even in November. Trying to join an American-style gym, the author discovers that the rhetoric, the cult of sport is absent in France. Talking about the bureaucracy takes the place of talking about sport. In France there is no retirement anxiety. People don't link the notion of stopping to work with stopping to live as people do in the U.S. It is believed that what France needs is its own Bill Gates. It has a philosopher, Habermas, who contends that the basis for the state is the human love of arguing.
The French have been obsessed with Vichy for more than twenty-five years. Thus, they did not finally confront their past during Papon's trial in Bordeaux. Explanation turns first on romanticism, next on ideological rigor, and finally on the futility of explanation. In 1997 there was an incident at the Eiffel Tower. The French draw their identity from their jobs, the Americans from what they buy. Adam Gobnik decides that couture is romantic cartoon. Yves St. Laurent is still the favorite in 1997 of the Socialists in the government. He uses opera arias to show his clothes. The new Bibliotheque Nationale, a Mitterand grand project, is, according to Gopnik, in the totalitarian Luxe style. Other transformations of cultural sites have been undertaken at the Louvre and the Bastille Opera. Jazz, loved by the French, and Impressionism, loved by the Americans, confirm the simple physical basis of powerful emotion.
Alice Waters is in Paris at some point during the writer's stay. He offers to cook dinner for her and is nervous. Her ends up cooking lamb for seven hours where four would have been appropriate. It seems that the purpose of the visit of Alice Waters to Paris is to determine the feasibility of opening a restaurant at the Musee des Arts Decoratifs at the Louvre. She has reconciled utopian politics with aristocratic cooking. The crucial unit of French social life is the cohort. Members of the cohort inhabit neutral places such as parks and cafes.
The couple's daughter Olivia is born in Paris. Since Paris is beautiful, but France is not a life, the family returns to America. The book is both amusing and instructive.
Customer Rating:
Summary: a worthwhile read for lovers of Paris
Comment: An interesting collection of essays about family life in Paris. Gopnik's erudite, interesting descriptions of the City of Light will delight Francophiles, although his writing is fairly pretentious and pedantic at times. Nevertheless, this book is still a worthwhile read.
|
| More Reviews |
| Editorial Reviews: |
Paris. The name alone conjures images of chestnut-lined boulevards, sidewalk cafés, breathtaking façades around every corner--in short, an exquisite romanticism that has captured the American imagination for as long as there have been Americans.
In 1995, Adam Gopnik, his wife, and their infant son left the familiar comforts and hassles of New York City for the urbane glamour of the City of Light. Gopnik is a longtime New Yorker writer, and the magazine has sent its writers to Paris for decades--but his was above all a personal pilgrimage to the place that had for so long been the undisputed capital of everything cultural and beautiful. It was also the opportunity to raise a child who would know what it was to romp in the Luxembourg Gardens, to enjoy a croque monsieur in a Left Bank café--a child (and perhaps a father, too) who would have a grasp of that Parisian sense of style we Americans find so elusive.
So, in the grand tradition of the American abroad, Gopnik walked the paths of the Tuileries, enjoyed philosophical discussions at his local bistro, wrote as violet twilight fell on the arrondissements. Of course, as readers of Gopnik's beloved and award-winning "Paris Journals" in The New Yorker know, there was also the matter of raising a child and carrying on with day-to-day, not-so-fabled life. Evenings with French intellectuals preceded middle-of-the-night baby feedings; afternoons were filled with trips to the Musée d'Orsay and pinball games; weekday leftovers were eaten while three-star chefs debated a "culinary crisis."
As Gopnik describes in this funny and tender book, the dual processes of navigating a foreign city and becoming a parent are not completely dissimilar journeys--both hold new routines, new languages, a new set of rules by which everyday life is lived. With singular wit and insight, Gopnik weaves the magical with the mundane in a wholly delightful, often hilarious look at what it was to be an American family man in Paris at the end of the twentieth century. "We went to Paris for a sentimental reeducation-I did anyway-even though the sentiments we were instructed in were not the ones we were expecting to learn, which I believe is why they call it an education."
|
|
|
|
|
