Paris to the Moon

Comparing Adam Gopnik's "Paris to the Moon" to any of Peter Mayle's books is like comparing Carl Jung to Deepak Chopra. Chopra offers "quick fixes" for an ailing soul, but Jung's intellectual and deeply insightful approach to what ails mankind has the power to transform the soul. Likewise, both Gopnik and Mayle write about France and French culture, but, unlike Mayle, Adam Gopnik offers a truly critical assessment of the culture in which he immersed himself. Gopnik's insights transcend Mayle's casual observations, and his candor obviously makes some people uncomfortable (truth often does). Compared to Gopnik, Mayle is "light reading": It's certainly enjoyable but doesn't have much substance; it offers little or no "food for thought." Gopnik's writing reflects his background (journalism/teaching), just as Mayle's reflects his (advertising). I personally prefer Gopnik's intellectualizing of la vie parisienne to Mayle's selling of Provence by the pound!

This book is hilarious, erudite and amazingly enjoyable, making it the best piece of travel literature (but it's more *living* literature than travel literature, I think) I've ever read. It's full of insights on French culture -- cuisine, labor unions, childbirth and everything else -- and, more affectingly, thoughts on the bittersweet experience of watching a child grow and change. Gopnik, a New Yorker (the magazine as well as the city) writer known for his wit, chronicles in this book his years of living in Paris with his wife and young son. Sure, they enjoy an enviably plush lifestyle, with nothing to do but...well, observe all day. But the observations are worth the envy. Who else could describe the music (or muzak) inside French department stores so perfectly? Who else could describe the plight of the French garcon in his favorite restaurant with such humor and sadness? Most wonderful, though, is the tender portrait of Gopnik's growing young family. It reads like a love letter to his son and wife. He chronicles Luke's first experiences, and eventual assimilation, in Paris with the eye of a brilliant naturalist, the kind of eye parents always seem to have. Far from being indulgent, this tendency is charming and makes me want to get pregnant and expatriate immediately, just to get a whiff of what Gopnik has experienced.This book reads like a set of essays. Like a set of essays in the New Yorker. I have read some of the preceeding (negative) reviews, and would like to emphasize that if you have never picked up a copy of the New Yorker, if you don't enjoy the New Yorker, etc., that you avoid this book. Bear in mind that Mr. Gopnik is a staff writer for the New Yorker, and he epitomizes their dry, observational, academic reference-laden prose style. If you hate the New Yorker, you will hate this book as well and call it pretentious and stuffy. Hey, you may have a point. But I myself enjoy acerbic and bittersweet wit, with references just obscure enough to make me feel like my liberal arts education is good for something. "Paris to the Moon" is one of the most enjoyable books of last year, and also one of the most intelligent -- a rare combination. Highly and enthusiastically recommended.

Just as the world is divided into New York City haters and lovers, so are we divided over Paris. Adam Gopnik, his wife, and young son Luke decamped to Paris in 1995 to let Luke grow up, if only for a few years, in a great city besides New York, and this is their story. It's a family tale, or a variety of them, and the theme is always the City itself. And why not? If ever there was a city that deserves its own chroniclers, it's Paris. Gopnik does it right: He's got a genius for turning the personal into the general, and for bringing to fruition some terrific insights into French character (at least, where that intersects with Parisian character). "Trouble at the Tower" is without equal -- maybe only O'Henry, in his New York stories, could pull off something equal. If you loathe Paris, fine, buy another book. But if you're educable and recognize that cities and their residents can demonstrate the best and most contradictory sides of human society, then dig in. -- Incidentally, now back in New York, Gopnik's work remains the best reason to subscribe to the New Yorker; his essay on The Map of The City (November 2000) was a treasure. My only regret? That some of the favorite pieces he wrote in Paris weren't included (viz: The Virtual Bishop...).

After reading this book, I want to do two things: 1) go to Paris, and 2) have lunch with Adam Gopnik. A surreal blend of travel literature, history, and even philosophy, _From Paris to the Moon_ will almost certainly contain anecdotes and observations unknown to even the most diehard Parisian-trivia buffs. For those of us who haven't been studying the city for a lifetime, Gopnik provides an accessible overview of his subject before delving into the nitty-gritty. Beautifully written and tremendously engaging.