Ah, Paris in the 1980s. A time of excess and exploration, when the City of Light still held an air of mystery for wide-eyed American travelers. It’s against this backdrop that Ruth Reichl sets her delectable new work of fiction, “The Paris Novel.” As someone who’s devoured Reichl’s memoirs and cookbooks over the years, I was curious to see how her first foray into novel-writing would play out. Well, let me tell you—it’s a treat.
From Timid Copy Editor to Parisian Adventurer
Our protagonist, Stella, starts off as a woman who’s lived her entire life in a carefully constructed bubble of routine and safety. Um, sound familiar to anyone else? Yeah, I thought so. Anyway, when her estranged mother dies, leaving behind a cryptic note and a one-way ticket to Paris, Stella reluctantly embarks on a journey that will change everything.
Now, I know what you’re thinking – “Oh great, another story about an American finding herself in Paris.” But hold your horses, because Reichl brings her unique flavor to this familiar recipe.
The Dress That Started It All
It all begins with a dress. Not just any dress, mind you, but a vintage Dior creation that practically leaps off the rack and onto Stella’s body. The shopkeeper insists it was meant for her, and in a moment of uncharacteristic spontaneity, Stella buys it. This single act sets off a chain of events that will lead her on a mouthwatering adventure through the culinary, artistic, and literary worlds of 1980s Paris.
A Cast of Colorful Characters
Reichl populates her novel with a cast of characters as rich and varied as a well-stocked French larder. There’s Jules, the octogenarian art collector who takes Stella under his wing, introducing her to a who’s who of Parisian society. And let’s not forget George Whitman, the eccentric proprietor of Shakespeare and Company bookstore, where Stella ends up living as a “Tumbleweed” (a real thing, by the way—look it up!).
But the character who really steals the show is Django, a charismatic chef who may or may not be Stella’s long-lost father. Their developing relationship forms the heart of the novel, as Stella discovers a passion for food that may be connected to her past.
A Mystery Wrapped in a Painting
Oh, and did I mention there’s a mystery? Because of course there is. Stella becomes obsessed with uncovering the truth about Victorine Meurent, the model for Manet’s famous painting “Olympia.” This subplot adds a layer of historical intrigue to the story, giving Stella a purpose beyond simply eating her way through Paris (though let’s be honest, that would be purpose enough for most of us).
Reichl’s Writing: A Feast for the Senses
Now, let’s talk about Reichl’s writing. If you’ve read her memoirs, you know the woman can describe food like nobody’s business. And boy, does she flex those muscles here. Every meal, every bite, is rendered in such vivid detail that you’ll swear you can taste it. Here’s a little taste (pun intended):
“The foie gras was cool and smooth, the texture almost fluffy. Then it began a vanishing act—as she sat there, it simply evaporated from her mouth. She found the experience so intoxicating that she took another forkful, carefully including a bit of the magenta puddle. What was it? A bit sweet, with just the slightest bitter edge.”
I mean, come on. That’s not just food writing, that’s food poetry.
Themes to Chew On
But “The Paris Novel” isn’t just about food (though that would be enough for me, honestly). Reichl explores themes of identity, family, and the transformative power of art and culture. Stella’s journey is one of self-discovery, as she sheds her protective shell and learns to embrace life’s uncertainties.
There’s also a strong feminist undercurrent, particularly in the subplot about Victorine Meurent. Reichl highlights the ways in which women’s stories have been erased or rewritten by history, and Stella’s quest to uncover the truth about Victorine mirrors her own journey of self-realization.
A Few Nitpicks (Because Nobody’s Perfect)
Now, I’m not saying the book is flawless. There are moments when the plot feels a bit too convenient, with coincidences piling up like layers in a mille-feuille. And some readers might find Stella’s transformation from timid copy editor to confident chef a bit too rapid to be entirely believable.
But you know what? I didn’t care. I was having too much fun to nitpick. Reichl’s enthusiasm for her subject matter is infectious, and her love for Paris, food, and art shines through on every page.
The Verdict: A Delicious Literary Escape
So, what’s the final verdict? “The Paris Novel” is a delightful literary escape, perfect for anyone who’s ever dreamed of reinventing themselves in the City of Light. It’s a love letter to Paris, to food, and to the transformative power of taking chances.
If you’re a fan of Reichl’s previous work, you’ll find plenty to enjoy here. And if you’re new to her writing, well, you’re in for a treat. Just don’t make the mistake of reading this book on an empty stomach. Trust me on this one.
Who Should Read This Book?
- Foodies (obviously)
- Francophiles
- Art history buffs
- Anyone who’s ever fantasized about dropping everything and moving to Paris
- Readers who enjoy character-driven stories with a dash of mystery
Who Might Want to Skip It?
- Those on a diet (seriously, the food descriptions are dangerously tempting)
- Readers who prefer fast-paced thrillers
- Anyone allergic to French culture (if such people exist)
How It Stacks Up: Reichl’s Fiction vs. Non-Fiction
Now, I know some of you might be wondering how “The Paris Novel” compares to Reichl’s non-fiction work. As someone who’s read pretty much everything she’s written (yes, I’m a fan, sue me), I’d say this novel captures the same warmth, humor, and sensory richness that made her memoirs so beloved.
But there’s a freedom to fiction that allows Reichl to explore themes and ideas in a way that’s different from her memoirs. She’s able to create composite characters that embody the spirit of the people she’s met and the experiences she’s had, resulting in a story that feels both familiar and fresh.
Similar Books to Whet Your Appetite
If “The Paris Novel” leaves you hungry for more (sorry, I can’t help the food puns), here are a few other books you might enjoy:
- “My Life in France” by Julia Child – Another American’s culinary adventures in Paris
- “The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie” by Alan Bradley – For those who enjoyed the mystery aspect
- “A Moveable Feast” by Ernest Hemingway – Classic tales of expat life in 1920s Paris
- “Lunch in Paris” by Elizabeth Bard – A modern memoir about falling in love with a Frenchman and French cuisine
Final Thoughts: A Book to Savor
In the end, “The Paris Novel” is like a perfectly prepared French meal – it’s meant to be savored, not rushed. Reichl’s prose invites you to slow down, to indulge your senses, and to rediscover the joy of new experiences.
As I turned the last page, I found myself booking imaginary flights to Paris and dusting off my old copy of “Mastering the Art of French Cooking.” And isn’t that the mark of a great book? One that not only entertains but inspires, leaving you just a little bit changed after the final chapter.
So, my advice? Pick up a copy of “The Paris Novel,” pour yourself a glass of wine (French, of course), and prepare to be transported. Just don’t blame me if you end up impulse-buying a plane ticket to Charles de Gaulle. Bon appétit et bonne lecture!