Wednesday 14 May 2014
Devouring Books: Books, Baguettes and Bedbugs by Jeremy Mercer
There are some books that put you in a certain place, at a certain time; and make it seem so enchanting that you never want to leave. When this happens in fiction, it can be heartbreaking to finish the book and be pulled out of that world, but when it happens in non-fiction, you leave with the dizzying idea that maybe, just maybe, you could actually live in that world, or at least something close to it.
This brings me to Books, Baguettes and Bedbugs. It's partially a memoir of a certain time in Jeremy Mercer's life where, due to some poor personal decisions, he ended up close to penniless in Paris and without many options. With all due respect to Mercer and his, you know, life, though, I wasn't really in it for that. What I was really in it for was the snapshot of life in Shakespeare and Company, an English Language bookshop in Paris that's also kind of a Socialist utopia, run by the AWESOME George Whitman, who let writers stay they for free, as long as they worked on their craft and agreed to help out around the shop.
Let me just repeat that: A bookshop. In Paris. That's also a Socialist utopia. If you don't think this is my ideal setting for life, then it's possible you don't even know me at ALL, internet!
As I've said, I was so wrapped up in the feel of the book (well, the feel of the bookshop, really) that I probably couldn't tell you that much about what happens in it. There's a lot of poverty, a lot of out of date advice on how to eat really cheaply in Paris and some drunken exploits by the Seine, all that kind of thing. What I can tell you, though, is that I want to be one of George's starving artists, even if he is kind of crotchety and mean at me*. Crotchety and mean is my favourite, right Bill Bryson? Mercer does a really good job of capturing the people and the feeling of living in Shakespeare and Co, and makes the bookshop, Paris and (to a lesser extent) being a little bit poor ever so appealing.
One of the best things about the book, really, is the people. As in any situation, living in a bookshop in Paris is only as cool as the people you're living with, and Mercer writes about such a range of characters that you almost feel like he's made them up. There's the secretly insane American, the crazy sexy woman he loves, the chef at the Australian embassy who feeds the starving writers, the eccentric English poet who they can't quite get to leave. Each one of them adds something to the feel of the book, and in spite of all their drama and combined neuroses, you kind of want them to be your friends, too. Each one of them adds something to the book, as I'd imagine they also added to the bookshop and to the picture of this amazing Parisian adventure I have in my brain.
Basically, I realise, I've told you nothing about the book ('as always!' I hear you cry) but you know what? I think that's ok. I think it's best that you go exploring through Paris on your own, and when you need a place to rest your head, Shakespeare and Co will be there for you. At least in the Paris of your brain. Or should that be my brain..?
*George died in 2011 aged 98 (!), so this part of the dream is, you know, impossible. George's daughter Sylvia runs the shop now, and I don't know if she lets anyone and everyone sleep there now. But let's pretend she does.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
WATCH THE DOCUMENTARY, LAURA. Simon plays a big part in it. Ablimit's in it. So is Sylvia, and George, and Jeremy, and the writer who came to stay who met George during the 1968 riots... all these familiar names from the book. I'm so glad you loved it. I think Sylvia does still run the 'Tumbleweed Hotel', as George called it, though I don't think there's the same impetus to work in the bookshop (they have more regular staff now) and maybe the timing is more strictly controlled? So I don't think people stay for such a long time now. Then again, that may be a totally flexible rule, I don't know. I don't think I would ever dare find out. I thought about trying to stay at the quirky hotel next door for, say, a month instead, and just spend a lot of time in the bookshop, but I don't think my finances would stretch to that unfortunately. Not yet, anyway. :)
ReplyDeleteYou're so right. The feel of the book and of this little glimpse of bookish Paris is what it's all about. It made me feel that there was good in the world, and I still feel like that two readings later. LOVE. I'll stop rambling now...
Never stop rambling, Ellie! I will definitely watch the documentary, but I'm slightly like 'but but but what if it's not like it is in my head?' And the answer to that us, tough luck,watch it anyway! Haha
DeleteI'm so glad that Sylvia lets people stay there still! I know that Jeanette Wintersom has done so, and that's very exciting to me!
Where do people sleep in the bookstore? Cos I feel like this isn't right, but I'm still picturing everyone sort of laid out among the bookshelves. I feel like I'm focusing on the wrong parts.
ReplyDeleteI mean... I think they kind of do sleep amongst the bookshelves. I'm actually a tiny bit unclear on the logistics of it, but I did finish the book like ten million years ago (or a few weeks, whatevs).
DeleteI probably normally wouldn't pick this up as I'm not a huge Paris fan but now you and Other Ellie have been raving about it...
ReplyDeleteTo be fair, this is a lot more like 'yay book shops!' And mainly 'yay Shakespeare and co!' Than 'yay Paris!' Although he obvs doesn't go 'ugh Paris is gross' because that would be a lieeeee. But yeah, me and Ellie are beacons of good taste!
Delete