Book Review: Paris, Paris by David Downie (2005)

Author David Downie loves buildings. Old, new, battered, pristine, tall, short, inhabited, empty…if it’s built by man — and preferably constructed in Paris — he’ll embrace it.

Architecture figures prominently in Downie’s critically acclaimed book, Paris, Paris. He writes about buildings as other men write about women, with loving details that sometimes teeters dangerously close to being pornographic. A longtime resident of the Marais, Downie is an inveterate wanderer, a nomad in his adopted home town, one who takes delightful pleasure in lingering over the monuments, museums and mansions that line Paris’ crammed, labyrinthine streets and allees.

Readers who’ve been to Paris, or those planning on visiting soon, will benefit the most from this book. Downie’s meanderings through the city are jam-packed with details on the history, people, architecture, even the flora and fauna of practically every square inch of his trail, that a Paris virgin such as myself will invariably get lost at times. Certainly there are worse things to happen to oneself than to get lost in Paris, even in a book about Paris, but it can make for a sometimes frustrating reading experience.

Downie does write exquisitely, skillfully weaving history, literature, art, personality, design, and politics to create a richly drawn portrait of a side of Paris with which few non-French (or even non-Parisian French) would be familiar. Whereas your standard Paris guidebook might steer you towards the usual suspects (e.g., the Louvre, the Eiffel Tower, the Cafe Flore), Downie chooses instead to march the reader down to more unusual yet no less alluring city landmarks such as Pere Lachaise, the cemetery that serves as the final resting place for various dignitaries, from Caron de Beaumarchais (the author of Le Mariage de Figaro) to the Doors’ Jim Morrison, Frederic Chopin to Yves Montand. The personalities he elects to illuminate — however briefly — in chapter-long essays reflect the often-random nature of his self-guided education on all things Parisian: he stumbles upon a vintage postcard sent by an unknown tourist from the Musee Gustave Moreau, and it intrigues him enough to inspire him to track down the obscure establishment, the treasures of which he discovers and rediscovers over a period of several years.

Such a free-wheeling foray into the overlooked corners and shadows of Paris and its colorful history offers rewards of its own to the reader, as it avoids the often detached reading experience of many guidebooks. Downie knows the city well, and he doesn’t hesitate to pour all of his erudition and passion into sharing its secrets and gossip in this, his first book. Thirty essays in all, they provide tantalizing glimpses into Parisian landmarks, characters and phenomena and make one yearn for more.

A single black-and-white photograph introduces the beginning of each essay. Taken by his wife, Alison Harris, a professional photographer whose work has been published in various magazines and cookbooks (including those of Sophia Loren and Marcella Hazan), they reveal quirky slices of Parisian life so often captured by its more talented and inspired photographers and artists. I wish there had been more of them, though, and that the quality was better. The book, about the size of a paperback, doesn’t really do justice to what I’m sure are breathtaking images of a city in various colors and moods. The copy I have, published in 2005 by Transatlantic Press, has the look and feel of a self-published book, which may explain the rather minimal-leaning-towards-the-bland cover and interior layout. One would think that a book this highly praised by everyone from travel writing legend Jan Morris to Lonely Planet Global Travel Editor Donald George, would be better designed, especially when you have Le Divorce author Diane Johnson writing your Foreword.

Perhaps the one thing I found most problematic about the book, however, is the uncomfortable feeling that, while Paris has always been considered a heaven for women, Downie’s 248-page homage to it seems to have largely forgotten them. Of the thirty essays, only two are devoted to uniquely French women: Coco Chanel, and “Madame X.” In Chanel’s case, the famed designer who revolutionized women’s wear and forever freed them from the nasty restrictions of the corset suffers badly under Downie’s pen. The writer, who considers fashion designers to be a “pernicious” lot, makes little attempt to conceal his disdain for the “man-eating” Coco, whom he apparently considers a vain, manipulative, “uneducated” social climber.

And Madame X? Well, that’s the pseudonym he gives to the founder and director of Paris’ first Ecole de Seduction, a discreet agency that tutors Parisian men — and a few French women — the art of communicating, whether in love or in business. Mostly, though, Madame X’s pupils are tongue-tied young Christians to her calculating Cyrano, paying her what I’m sure are small fortunes in order to learn how best to dress, eat and approach a random woman at the park.

Aside from these two, however, Downie offers very little in the way of illuminating the role of women in shaping Paris into the city of light, love and letters that it is today. His detailed narratives on the history of the city are peopled with swashbuckling adventurer-poets like Beaumarchais and tortured artistes like van Gogh, but you’d be better of chasing down Lucinda Holdforth’s True Pleasures if you want a better, more inclusive picture of Paris’ intellectual and artistic history. Offering only the token figures of Chanel and Madame X — a fashion designer and flirtation expert — reduces the critical role that women played in the development of Paris borders on insulting.

Still, I enjoyed the book. It’s not a quick read, as the writing can occasionally become a wee bit academic, if not stilted. Downie is obviously a very learned man, and he’s anxious to cram as much trivia about Paris as is possible in a book meant to be an armchair guide to his adopted home. As aforementioned the reader already familiar with Parisian geography and architecture will find it more useful than one who has never set foot in the city, but it’s nonetheless a fascinating introduction to one of the world’s most fascinating cities. It’s worth at least checking out at your local library or through Interlibrary Loan. However, for a far more enjoyable and impressive read by another (now ex-) American expatriate in Paris, I would recommend Adam Gopnick’s Paris to the Moon, if you haven’t already. It’s much better written and captures the essence of Paris in a way that will appeal to both longtime Paris aficionados and those new to the City of Light.

Related posts:

1. Cara Black’s book spills out of YSL bag! News at 11! One of my favorite mystery authors is, bien sur, Cara...

Related posts brought to you by Yet Another Related Posts Plugin.