What I like about this book:
- I like the description of Gwendal because his hazel green eyes, wavy brown hair and Brittany hometown reminds me of my favorite Frenchman. In my head, I pictured myself as Elizabeth Bard (WHAT IS SHAMELESS?) and he became Yoann Gourcuff. This mental picture made the book all the more enjoyable for me. It enabled me to relate to the author without any rationale because that's what gorgeous Frenchmen do, they take out every iota of intelligence in you. I was all "Go, Fight, Win! Move to France" in the first few pages, whereas if Gwendal formed a different image in my head, I would probably scoff at the idea of a girl throwing New York City away for uncertainty in Paris. By virtue of physical superiority, France wins. Again.
- While Elizabeth Bard didn't have misadventures of the unfortunate kind, much of her misery came from issues shaped by the society she grew up in. She was raised in a society that thrives on competition, where people are constantly molded and measured by success--think high-paying jobs, awards and recognition. That is not the case in France, where culture and personal satisfaction comes first. While I was reading the book, I am instantly reminded of myself, my fears, my expectations and that little place in the sun I am forever running after. It goes to show that everybody, wherever they may be, is chasing after one thing: happiness. This book made me realize that it is our expectations--the standards we set for ourselves--that fail us the most, not the world or any of the curveballs it throws our way. I also like the way I get to see the difference between the French way of living and the American dream. She can come off as whiny and disintegrated at times but one cannot help but sympathize. I have come to share her frustrations with the French system by the end of the book, and this is something I find refreshing because a memoir set in a city as beautiful as Paris often leaves the author little time to see faults and say, "C'est vrai la merde". This book gives us a glimpse of the real Paris, with its pessimism and its taste for a collective "non!" against anything and everything. Even the most magnificent of cities deal with social differences everyday. As an expatriate, one can either challenge it and fight a losing battle or learn how things work in that country and play their game. We will always have to confront our demons, whether we're teetering on cobblestone streets or sashaying through the asphalt pavement of the Lower East Side. We can never really run away.
- The small secrets of the French lifestyle. This book explains why French women never really get fat (Okay, let me spoil it for you: they hardly ever eat but drink enormous amounts of water. And based on this book, being heavy is just socially unacceptable in France *gulp*). Other truths answered in this book: why French people are hardly ever sociable, how tricky the French legal system is and how come money, religion & politics are not as important in France as it is in the United States. Note to self: Maybe it's better to live my late twenties in a friendlier city like Madrid or Barcelona, and just visit Paris on weekends. ;)
- The food. I always get excited about memoirs because of the family heirloom recipes. This book just drives home the point that relationships are strengthened over good food of any kind, from ramekins of dirty dark chocolate souffle to fish baked under a mountain of sea salt, south of France style. :) Most of the recipes are fairly easy to replicate too so that's a big plus.
What I did not like:
- Some parts of the book took a very passive-aggressive tone that left me confused. I guess it is quite alright to categorize the author's love affair with her countries as somewhat love-hate?
- Also, the fact that most stores carry thirty-sixes and not a lot of higher numbers. That is sample size 2, ten sizes away from the average American woman.
- Rabbit as a main course because I have a soft spot for bunnies (I used to keep them as pets until I grew up and started loving life forms a little less) but I can hardly blame anybody since this form of animal slaughter is prevalent in France. :|
Other things I like (that are in this book): The quote "I fight the small battles because I cannot win the big ones" which is what I do, most of the time--when I am lonely for my dead father and is scared shitless of the future, chocolate souffles, David Lynch, thick hot chocolate, flaky croissants, butchers that look like Matt Dillon, ladies who lunch, men who cook great meals (even on an electric hot plate), French words that roll off my tongue, no nonsense French loving, art, the decadence of Parisian architecture, daily market trips, fresh seafood and fruits on said market trips, cultural integration of the secular French and Jewish New Yorkers, bone marrow that is heaven spread on top of a baguette, juicy pave au poivre on a first date, choquettes, cream puff towers for wedding cakes, Frenchmen who know what they want and people who are so fucking happy all the time.
Francophiles, go ahead. It's beautiful way to spend the rest of your day.
