Having gone into Paris in the Fiftes with several rave reviews and my daily longing for Paris, I was ready to be let down by what couldn’t possibly live up to all my expectations. However, I find myself wishing I’d savored this book more and not devoured Stanley Karnow’s mini memoir inside of two quick days.
Karnow’s journalistic retelling of one of Paris’ most romantic decades did not disappoint. Having chosen to reside in Paris in an attempt to position himself as a foreign correspondent for American outlets and sending articles that were always carbon copied have gave Karnow incredible fact based retellings of such grand moments with notable authors like de Beauvoir, Sartre and Hemingway.
Paris was also fresh from German occupation in a post WWII revitalization which gave the city an even grander air of hope, sense of duty and ebullient love. Karnow also enlisted the help of other writers he knew at the time and so this painted a much wider portrait of both the city and country, helping to contextualize the time in a full scope even when he moved countries chasing other stories or eventually returned state side.
This didn’t make me miss Paris so much as it gave me more history. History that would have to be hard won and earned should I ever move there myself. While I continue to study the language and take semi annual sabbaticals there, this was something of a shortcut to understanding the Parisian mentality – the humanity behind their icons, the importance of their landmarks beyond beauty and the breadth of their knowledge from sheer necessity or maybe osmosis.
It was a beautiful book I’m likely to revisit several times over and am reminded once again of just how important and imperative journalism is to our larger consciousness. Our histories give us such starting points, insights and moments with the souls of others. To be wrapped up by the imagery beckoned from words and to revel in another person’s pain, joy or view of the world negates whether we agree or not. We simply get to read and feel their side of the story without need of response or action.
While I generally lean toward audio books, this one was a blessing to have as a hard copy with photos and the feeling of history in my hands.
