In those days Picasso having lived rather sadly in the rue Schoelcher was to move a little further out to Montrouge. It was not an unhappy time for him but after the Montmartre days one never heard his high whinnying spanish giggle.-- The Autobiography of Alice B. Toklas by Gertrude Stein.
This book is terrific for giving the feel of being part of the avant-garde in Paris before WWII. But it is all little snippets like this in an endless stream: a dinner party in Montmartre, a house party in England, a painting exhibition of the new school, afternoon tea with a famous person whose name no longer rings a bell . . .
It is entertaining, but too rich to read more than a few nibbles at a time.
This book is on several of the lists I am working on: Erica Jong's list of Top 100 Novels by Women, the Radcliffe list of Top 100 Novels of the 20th Century, and my own French Connections list.
It is entertaining, but too rich to read more than a few nibbles at a time.
This book is on several of the lists I am working on: Erica Jong's list of Top 100 Novels by Women, the Radcliffe list of Top 100 Novels of the 20th Century, and my own French Connections list.
Teaser Tuesdays is hosted by Should Be Reading, where you can find the official rules for this weekly event.
Blah! This book was ridiculous. Lol It drove me kinda nuts - but that's Stein. Although, I did enjoy Paris, France.
ReplyDeleteI may be coming around to your point of view. It seems to be lasting FOREVER. I enjoy it for a paragraph or two, then just want . . . more? Or less? I don't know what I want it to be, but something different.
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