The Last Time I Saw Paris

Rating:
Summary: History of a small Paris neighborhood and the Parisian soul.
Review: American journalist Elliot Paul remained in France after his tour of duty in World War I ended, to settle on the quaint (and now very trendy) rue de la Huchette in the shadows of Notre Dame cathedral. He fell in love with his French neighbors, their Parisian souls, and mourned the death or displacement of both in the Nazi occupation of World War II. The Last Time I Saw Paris is a poignant source for understanding why the French spirit will never be dominated or corrupted, and why this is a blessing to us all. It is a tour de force on understanding World War II through the eyes of the shopkeepers, cafe patrons, and regular folk who saw Hitler, Musilini and Franco comming, while the superpowers of the time hid their eyes in denial.

Rating:
Summary: Not The Same Rue de la Huchette
Review: Before getting into the body of my review, I want to clear up a fairly common misconception. The only thing that the movie, THE LAST TIME I SAW PARIS, has in common with Elliot Paul's book is that they share the same name. The movie was based on a short story by F. Scott Fitzgerald entitled, "Babylon Revisited."

I wonder what Elliot Paul would think if he could see today's incarnation of his beloved rue de la Huchette where the action of the book is centered. Before the second World War, when Elliot made it his home, it was a poor street of "mom and pop" businesses, small apartments, a laundry that doubled as a bordello, a third class hotel or two, a few small cafes and, most of all, a place where one sat out on the stoop and visited, or debated, with his neighbors until the wee hours. Not a very high class neighborhood and certainly not a place that had any attraction for tourists.

That portion of the Left Bank that includes the rue de la Huchette is called the Latin Quarter because of its proximity to the Sorbonne University. At one time it really was a place where the students hung out, but no more. Because it has become so touristy, the students have moved their extracurricular activities a few blocks away. I get the feeling that every tourist bus passing through Paris includes in its itinerary a walk down the two or three blocks that comprise the street. Every other door leads into a small restaurant and in front of each is a hustler enticing you to come in for dinner and to have a free "aperitif." If you know where to eat, or are lucky, you can get a good, reasonably priced, meal there. The street is always lively and crowded.,

Paul's rue de la Huchette, as I described it above, was a world, or at least a war, away from what one experiences today. He became such a part of the neighborhood that he was always called on to arbitrate neighborhood disputes. One young girl, Hyacinthe, fell in love with him while she was still a pre-teen, wrote him very adult sounding love letters, and even as an adult still adored him.

He describes a scene when, after a long absence, he returns, and, as soon as the word gets out that he's back, he finds himself the guest of honor at the party to end all parties. Everyone buys him drinks but no one allows him to reciprocate. Sometime during the celebration he passes out. The next morning, not knowing how he got there, he wakes up in one of the two front rooms in the hotel, rooms normally reserved for "couples in a hurry." Because the room was free and the gesture so generous, he doesn't complain about the bed bugs.

This wonderful street and these people that Paul loves and brings to life for us are destroyed by the Nazi occupation of Paris during WW II. The saddest moment of the book comes near the end of the war when Hyacinthe, now grown up and become a famous actress, dies as a result of asphyxiation caused by a charcoal burner that she and her mother were using to keep warm during the cold Paris winter. Her death which, like all the events in the book is a true event, is symbolic of the end of an era in Paul's life and of the life of a more innocent Paris.

I think that I might have liked Paul's rue de la Huchette better than the present one. If you read THE LAST TIME I SAW PARIS, I think that you might feel the same.

Rating:
Summary: Not The Same Rue de la Huchette
Review: Before getting into the body of my review, I want to clear up a fairly common misconception. The only thing that the movie, THE LAST TIME I SAW PARIS, has in common with Elliot Paul's book is that they share the same name. The movie was based on a short story by F. Scott Fitzgerald entitled, "Babylon Revisited."

I wonder what Elliot Paul would think if he could see today's incarnation of his beloved rue de la Huchette where the action of the book is centered. Before the second World War, when Elliot made it his home, it was a poor street of "mom and pop" businesses, small apartments, a laundry that doubled as a bordello, a third class hotel or two, a few small cafes and, most of all, a place where one sat out on the stoop and visited, or debated, with his neighbors until the wee hours. Not a very high class neighborhood and certainly not a place that had any attraction for tourists.

That portion of the Left Bank that includes the rue de la Huchette is called the Latin Quarter because of its proximity to the Sorbonne University. At one time it really was a place where the students hung out, but no more. Because it has become so touristy, the students have moved their extracurricular activities a few blocks away. I get the feeling that every tourist bus passing through Paris includes in its itinerary a walk down the two or three blocks that comprise the street. Every other door leads into a small restaurant and in front of each is a hustler enticing you to come in for dinner and to have a free "aperitif." If you know where to eat, or are lucky, you can get a good, reasonably priced, meal there. The street is always lively and crowded.,

Paul's rue de la Huchette, as I described it above, was a world, or at least a war, away from what one experiences today. He became such a part of the neighborhood that he was always called on to arbitrate neighborhood disputes. One young girl, Hyacinthe, fell in love with him while she was still a pre-teen, wrote him very adult sounding love letters, and even as an adult still adored him.

He describes a scene when, after a long absence, he returns, and, as soon as the word gets out that he's back, he finds himself the guest of honor at the party to end all parties. Everyone buys him drinks but no one allows him to reciprocate. Sometime during the celebration he passes out. The next morning, not knowing how he got there, he wakes up in one of the two front rooms in the hotel, rooms normally reserved for "couples in a hurry." Because the room was free and the gesture so generous, he doesn't complain about the bed bugs.

This wonderful street and these people that Paul loves and brings to life for us are destroyed by the Nazi occupation of Paris during WW II. The saddest moment of the book comes near the end of the war when Hyacinthe, now grown up and become a famous actress, dies as a result of asphyxiation caused by a charcoal burner that she and her mother were using to keep warm during the cold Paris winter. Her death which, like all the events in the book is a true event, is symbolic of the end of an era in Paul's life and of the life of a more innocent Paris.

I think that I might have liked Paul's rue de la Huchette better than the present one. If you read THE LAST TIME I SAW PARIS, I think that you might feel the same.

Rating:
Summary: A (somewhat biased) review . ..
Review: I love this book, for many reasons. Ellliot Paul was my father's best friend. They traveled together in Europe, Elliot working on one of his books (I forget which) and my father working on his (alas, never published). I knew Elliot as a kid - I even saw him on his deathbed, a sight I'll never forget. In any case, this is a WONDERFUL read, atmospheric, full of unforgettable characters, especially the author himself. I only wish I could write like this.

Rating:
Summary: Reminiscing
Review: This book is a fascinating window into the Paris of the inter-war period. Written in 1942 by a well-known journalist of the time, the book contains the reminiscences of Elliott Paul, an American who chose to call a neighborhood in a little back street of Paris home for some 17 years. In the first part of the book, Paul paints a picture of the neighborhood and the characters who populated it. The second part of the book describes the changes to his neighborhood as Europe began to descend into war, and the book finishes with Paul's despair as he thinks over all that was lost to him and to France once the Second World War finally broke out in earnest.

I found the first part of the book most compelling. Yes, it may be historically interesting to read later about how the political events of the time were interpreted by an American living in Paris and by his French friends, but it is the day-to-day details of life in Paris during the 1920s that remain fascinating today. After reading this book, I began to get an inkling at how un-developed France was compared to the general standard of living we expect and find today throughout Europe. From Paul's descriptions, living conditions in Paris in the 1920s were comparable to those found in many developing countries today. In his hotel, for example, the toilet facilities consisted of what some call today a "Turkish toilet", with one shared squat toilet for the entire floor, with only a partition door for privacy. Milk was adulterated before being distributed door-to-door in unwashed bottles by a buxom teenager. There was no central heating in the homes of ordinary people, and those who couldn't afford a small coal stove in their rooms for heat warmed themselves by rubbing their skin with cat-fur mittens, purchased at the local pharmacy. Women had not yet been granted property rights. They couldn't own or sell property or bank accounts, and they weren't even allowed to travel without written permission from their husbands or fathers. Looking back today, it's incredible to think how much French culture has changed. I wonder what Paul would think of modern French culture if he could experience it again- -what changes would he approve of, and what would he find distasteful? No doubt, as an outsider, Paul probably formed a few inaccurate hypotheses about French culture, but he lived long enough in the country and neighborhood to discover some truths as well. And as an outsider, he found them interesting enough to write about. It is only because they were written down that they survive at all- -they are just too far removed from modern realities to even be conceivable today. This is a great written record of Paul's experiences, and well worth reading.

Rating:
Summary: Reminiscing
Review: This book is a fascinating window into the Paris of the inter-war period. Written in 1942 by a well-known journalist of the time, the book contains the reminiscences of Elliott Paul, an American who chose to call a neighborhood in a little back street of Paris home for some 17 years. In the first part of the book, Paul paints a picture of the neighborhood and the characters who populated it. The second part of the book describes the changes to his neighborhood as Europe began to descend into war, and the book finishes with Paul's despair as he thinks over all that was lost to him and to France once the Second World War finally broke out in earnest.

I found the first part of the book most compelling. Yes, it may be historically interesting to read later about how the political events of the time were interpreted by an American living in Paris and by his French friends, but it is the day-to-day details of life in Paris during the 1920s that remain fascinating today. After reading this book, I began to get an inkling at how un-developed France was compared to the general standard of living we expect and find today throughout Europe. From Paul's descriptions, living conditions in Paris in the 1920s were comparable to those found in many developing countries today. In his hotel, for example, the toilet facilities consisted of what some call today a "Turkish toilet", with one shared squat toilet for the entire floor, with only a partition door for privacy. Milk was adulterated before being distributed door-to-door in unwashed bottles by a buxom teenager. There was no central heating in the homes of ordinary people, and those who couldn't afford a small coal stove in their rooms for heat warmed themselves by rubbing their skin with cat-fur mittens, purchased at the local pharmacy. Women had not yet been granted property rights. They couldn't own or sell property or bank accounts, and they weren't even allowed to travel without written permission from their husbands or fathers. Looking back today, it's incredible to think how much French culture has changed. I wonder what Paul would think of modern French culture if he could experience it again- -what changes would he approve of, and what would he find distasteful? No doubt, as an outsider, Paul probably formed a few inaccurate hypotheses about French culture, but he lived long enough in the country and neighborhood to discover some truths as well. And as an outsider, he found them interesting enough to write about. It is only because they were written down that they survive at all- -they are just too far removed from modern realities to even be conceivable today. This is a great written record of Paul's experiences, and well worth reading.

Rating:
Summary: French joie de vivre and Belgian pate
Review: What both the reviews currently featured fail to mention is that Elliott Paul has a keen eye and a keen wit. He writes with warmth and affection, but also a journalist's detachment. His writing style is in keeping with the street and the characters he brings to life so vividly. And although he is dealing with a world long gone, if you've been to Paris, even now, you'll recognise it in his pages. This book is one of the most perceptive and delightful travel books I've ever read. One example of Paul's gems: in one chapter he explains that 'Belgian pate' means pate that's half rabbit and half horse, that is, one rabbit to one horse. Several chapters later he informs us that there were no Italians in the neighbourhood since Italians and Serbs don't mix, "and when they do, the Italian has as much chance as a rabbit up against a horse in a Belgian pate" - I love that line and how it sums up so succinctly a whole array of rich rivalries.

Rating:
Summary: French joie de vivre and Belgian pate
Review: What both the reviews currently featured fail to mention is that Elliott Paul has a keen eye and a keen wit. He writes with warmth and affection, but also a journalist's detachment. His writing style is in keeping with the street and the characters he brings to life so vividly. And although he is dealing with a world long gone, if you've been to Paris, even now, you'll recognise it in his pages. This book is one of the most perceptive and delightful travel books I've ever read. One example of Paul's gems: in one chapter he explains that 'Belgian pate' means pate that's half rabbit and half horse, that is, one rabbit to one horse. Several chapters later he informs us that there were no Italians in the neighbourhood since Italians and Serbs don't mix, "and when they do, the Italian has as much chance as a rabbit up against a horse in a Belgian pate" - I love that line and how it sums up so succinctly a whole array of rich rivalries.