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, by Janice Macleod
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Product details
File Size: 71052 KB
Print Length: 269 pages
Publisher: Sourcebooks (February 4, 2014)
Publication Date: February 4, 2014
Sold by: Amazon Digital Services LLC
Language: English
ASIN: B00GM43HFS
Text-to-Speech:
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Amazon Best Sellers Rank:
#23,656 Paid in Kindle Store (See Top 100 Paid in Kindle Store)
The first 29% of the book was the author going into great detail why she hated her job and then how she saved money for her trip. I wanted to scream, "Shut up and just GO already." I skimmed thru a good bit of that first part, her whining about her awful job. She gets to Paris and hooks up with a guy in no time flat, goes to Italy, lusts after a man there, back to Paris, moves in with first man, still lusts after other men. It was a bit difficult to find the "artist" here. Yes, it was supposed to be a time of self-exploration, but she seemed to be more interested in sex than anything else. My impression of the author is that she is a needy woman who can't live without a man and went to the other side of the world to find one and the artist stuff was secondary. She made very feeble attempts to learn the language, yet complained about not being able to communicate. I would think as part of her preparation for this trip, she would have been a bit more serious about this.After this book, I really don't think I'd even want to go to Paris. She has rather turned me off to reading any other books on the subject.I would have rated it less stars but she did, in all fairness, talk somewhat about Paris and what she saw and places she visited. I just didn't particularly like her focus on sex and men.
I loved every page of this book. I am of French decent on both sides of my family. My maiden name is La Flamme actually originally from Brittany, my mother from the wine country near Bordeaux. I do have a great grandmother from Scotland and on both sides rumor has it that we have Native American Indians. The French moved to Canada, some Montreal, some Quebec. My mother used to get Christmas cards written in French from her French Canadian relatives. She visited with them when she visited St. Anne De Boupre ( spelling ?) Our parish was French and our priest was French Canadian. He taught the young children my mother's age in his parish to speak French. I always wanted to learn, but I never did for many reasons, mostly that I could never work French into my school schedule.In 1990 , my 3 daughters, a sister and my brother and I spent 3 weeks touring France by car, a Renault van. It was perfect. We started in Paris, then Monet's gardens in Givenchy, Honfleur, The Besches of Normandy, Mt. St. Michelle, Divan, the Loire Valley, Ambrose, (twice), many cathedrals, Lourdes, The French Riviera, back to Paris for the last week. It was a fantastic trip. Reading your letters brought many pleasant memories back to me, almost like I had been there again. Your book was awesome. I really enjoyed it. I get your letters regularly, a gift from my daughter, Elizabeth Miller, along with her sister, Anne, who both speak French relatively well enough to gracefully get us all around France.I highly recommend this book to all who enjoy France. My daughter, Elizabeth Miller, who recommended your book to me and bought me one also sent me a subscription to your Paris Letters which I receive regularly and enjoy Thank you, Janice.CLB
Janice is sweet, her boyfriend/husband is a dream but the book is a little....boring. I feel terrible saying this. She is a fabulous artist, her story is envy inducing, she is funny and seems like someone you would love to call a friend. Yet. It seemed a little predictable at times and at times I could barely be interested in continuing to read it. I say all of this but yet if she wrote a sequel I would read it in a heartbeat. Did she end up living in France or Canada ? Did she have kids? Move to a bigger apartment in Paris or to the country? Janice I am waiting to find out. And as a fellow Polish (via America) patriot-well DONE on you choice of grooms!
Last year my husband and I lived in France for six months for his job, so I was immediately drawn to this book. It's about a woman from California who saves up for a year to quit her rat-race job in advertising (believe me, I feel for her) to travel around Europe. While she's traveling, this vegan meets a hunky butcher boyfriend in Paris, where she eventually moves. Paris Letters are not only her way of recording her adventures, but also supporting herself to be able to stay in the country. Lord, how I identify with this woman and her travels, especially in Paris. Plus, her writing is light, to-the-point, and funny. Highly recommended. I also went on Etsy and ordered a subscription to her "Paris Letters" - that's how compelling the story is. And I haven't regretted it!
If I could pick one word to describe this book, it would be 'delightful'. The love story is delightful, the writing, the sketches, the descriptions, the author herself - all delightful. I cried a lot when I was reading this memoir, and only once was it from something even remotely sad. The writing was just so whimsical and funny, so … poignant that I found myself blinking hard in public places to whisk away the tears that threatened to fall.Paris Letters is inspiring. I actually live near Paris, but I live in the suburbs and have allowed myself to get comfortable in a life of routine, school pickups and drop-offs, work, and my own writing. Before I'd read very far into the book, I began downsizing and selling my things on eBay (just because I think it will do my heart a world of good to be unfettered). I also decided to go into Paris once a week and walk. I used to do that 20 years ago when I was a student, and I just got tired and complacent. I'm motivated to reclaim that sense of wonder.Janice chooses her words delicately, as if she were mixing paint on a palette to get the perfect shade. And she accomplishes these portraits of Paris with her words even before you get to the actual sketch at the end of the chapter. When you're done reading, you're left undecided about whether you've just had a chat with your pragmatic best friend, or whether (and I'm laughing as I type this) a pixie has just spirited through, spreading fairy dust that leaves you dreaming of adventure, freedom, and PARIS.
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