Colour me foolish: I finished this whole book thinking it was a memoir before realizing that a) the author and the protagonist have different last names and b) wondering why I didn’t hear about the political/social events in the news. Sigh. It’s been a long week.
Stephen Clarke’s cute, engaging novel follows Paul West, an upstart, up and coming restaurateur who moves from London to Paris to accept a job to open a series of tea rooms for France’s largest meat producer. Paul finds it hard to settle into life in Paris. Of course, it’s difficult to move to a new country, and his learning curve along the way remains hilarious. Having never been anything but a tourist in Paris, I admire how hard he works to fit in — stepping in all kinds of merde along the way.
The narrative style of the novel reminded me of Nick Hornby — Clarke has an easy-going way of telling a good story. Even when things go wrong for Paul, and they do (or else there wouldn’t be a book), it’s still a lighthearted read. Something perfect for a sick day spent at home on the couch with a hot water bottle and some Vick’s vapour rub. I’ve been thinking a lot about what it would be like to live somewhere else, even for a year. And this book gave me some wanderlust — it was also lovely to read a novel set in a Paris I know and understand, from the perspective of someone who obviously just wants to (eventually) fit in.