Paris to the Moon | 
 enlarge | Author: Adam Gopnik
Publisher: Random House Trade Paperbacks
Category: Book
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Avg. Customer Rating:  142 reviews
Sales Rank: 16898
Media: Paperback
Number Of Items: 1
Pages: 368
Shipping Weight (lbs): 0.6
Dimensions (in): 7.9 x 5.2 x 0.9
ISBN: 0375758232
Dewey Decimal Number: 944.3600413
EAN: 9780375758232
ASIN: 0375758232
Publication Date: September 11, 2001
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Amazon.com
In 1995 Gopnik was offered the plush assignment of writing the "Paris Journals" for the New Yorker. He spent five years in Paris with his wife, Martha, and son, Luke, writing dispatches now collected here along with previously unpublished journal entries. A self-described "comic-sentimental essayist," Gopnik chose the romance of Paris in its particulars as his subject. Gopnik falls in unabashed love with what he calls Paris's commonplace civilization--the cafes, the little shops, the ancient carousel in the park, and the small, intricate experiences that happen in such settings. But Paris can also be a difficult city to love, particularly its pompous and abstract official culture with its parallel paper universe. The tension between these two sides of Paris and the country's general brooding over the decline of French dominance in the face of globalization (haute couture, cooking, and sex, as well as the economy, are running deficits) form the subtexts for these finely wrought and witty essays. With his emphasis on the micro in the macro, Gopnik describes trying to get a Thanksgiving turkey delivered during a general strike and his struggle to find an apartment during a government scandal over favoritism in housing allocations. The essays alternate between reports of national and local events and accounts of expatriate family life, with an emphasis on "the trinity of late-century bourgeois obsessions: children and cooking and spectator sports, including the spectator sport of shopping." Gopnik describes some truly delicious moments, from the rites of Parisian haute couture, to the "occupation" of a local brasserie in protest of its purchase by a restaurant tycoon, to the birth of his daughter with the aid of a doctor in black jeans and a black silk shirt, open at the front. Gopnik makes terrific use of his status as an observer on the fringes of fashionable society to draw some deft comparisons between Paris and New York ("It is as if all American appliances dreamed of being cars while all French appliances dreamed of being telephones") and do some incisive philosophizing on the nature of both. This is masterful reportage with a winning infusion of intelligence, intimacy, and charm. --Lesley Reed
Product Description
Paris. The name alone conjures images of chestnut-lined boulevards, sidewalk cafes, breathtaking facades around every corner--in short, an exquisite romanticism that has captured the American imagination for as long as there have been Americans.
In 1995, Adam Gopnik, his wife, and their infant son left the familiar comforts and hassles of New York City for the urbane glamour of the City of Light. Gopnik is a longtime New Yorker writer, and the magazine has sent its writers to Paris for decades--but his was above all a personal pilgrimage to the place that had for so long been the undisputed capital of everything cultural and beautiful. It was also the opportunity to raise a child who would know what it was to romp in the Luxembourg Gardens, to enjoy a croque monsieur in a Left Bank cafe--a child (and perhaps a father, too) who would have a grasp of that Parisian sense of style we Americans find so elusive.
So, in the grand tradition of the American abroad, Gopnik walked the paths of the Tuileries, enjoyed philosophical discussions at his local bistro, wrote as violet twilight fell on the arrondissements. Of course, as readers of Gopnik's beloved and award-winning "Paris Journals" in The New Yorker know, there was also the matter of raising a child and carrying on with day-to-day, not-so-fabled life. Evenings with French intellectuals preceded middle-of-the-night baby feedings; afternoons were filled with trips to the Musee d'Orsay and pinball games; weekday leftovers were eaten while three-star chefs debated a "culinary crisis."
As Gopnik describes in this funny and tender book, the dual processes of navigating a foreign city and becoming a parent are not completely dissimilar journeys--both hold new routines, new languages, a new set of rules by which everyday life is lived. With singular wit and insight, Gopnik weaves the magical with the mundane in a wholly delightful, often hilarious look at what it was to be an American family man in Paris at the end of the twentieth century. "We went to Paris for a sentimental reeducation-I did anyway-even though the sentiments we were instructed in were not the ones we were expecting to learn, which I believe is why they call it an education."
Download Description
The comic-romantic adventures of an American family in Paris is penned by The New Yorker writer and author of the magazine's popular "Paris Journal" column. The private story is rooted in the sentimental re-education of a weary American through the experience of his son's childhood in France.
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| Customer Reviews: Read 137 more reviews...
 Yes if you're a francophile, no if you like good literature June 19, 2008
This is a book for francophiles. It might be a good resource on French culture and attitudes if you will be spending an extended time traveling or working in France. But if you are looking for good literature, skip it.
Should have known by just opening the cover - the first SENTENCE in the book has 9 (count 'em - NINE) commas in it. The prose is self-centered, self-conscious, and self-congratulatory.
You are regaled by sentences like this one: "The lucidity of Parisian empiricism was bought at the price of the grandiosity of Parisian abstraction, and you couldn't have one without the other".
Gopnik is the sort of author who thinks when he breaks a fingernail, it's significant and we need to know. You get an entire chapter devoted to a bedtime story he made up for his son, end to end.
The author needs to get over himself, and the editor needs to go back to flipping burgers. Spend your valuable leisure hours reading something else!
 Precision or the Sanctity of Superfluous Civilization June 16, 2008
PARIS TO THE MOON is a collection of essays by a NEW YORKER writer. Gopnik and his wife moved to Paris in 1995. When a young teen, he visited Paris in 1773. After the couple's child was born in 1994 they endeavored to fulfill Adam's desire to live in Paris while their son was still portable. The romance of Paris became the author's subject for his NEW YORKER pieces. There was no big story in France. There was a lot of peace amd prosperity in the world and a lot animosity directed toward the United States. When Adam Gopnik thinks of Paris he thinks of his wife Martha and his son Luke.
French politicians engage in ostentatious displays of detachment. The Parisian government has a clutch of domaine prive apartments. In reality, most apartments in Paris are not available to rent in a market sense. It seems that one of the politicians lodged his entire family in various domaine prive apartments. French life in general is chock full of entitlements. North African immigrants, though, have no entree. The French elites have now decided that the cure for hidden deals is transparency. Gopnik describes a strike. France is a centralized country and anything that mainly affects Paris is a national event. French people deal with an event by pretending it isn't happening. (Picasso and Sartre pretended the Germans didn't occupy Paris.)
The writer's son Luke enjoys the Luxembourg Gardens, even in November. Trying to join an American-style gym, the author discovers that the rhetoric, the cult of sport is absent in France. Talking about the bureaucracy takes the place of talking about sport. In France there is no retirement anxiety. People don't link the notion of stopping to work with stopping to live as people do in the U.S. It is believed that what France needs is its own Bill Gates. It has a philosopher, Habermas, who contends that the basis for the state is the human love of arguing.
The French have been obsessed with Vichy for more than twenty-five years. Thus, they did not finally confront their past during Papon's trial in Bordeaux. Explanation turns first on romanticism, next on ideological rigor, and finally on the futility of explanation. In 1997 there was an incident at the Eiffel Tower. The French draw their identity from their jobs, the Americans from what they buy. Adam Gobnik decides that couture is romantic cartoon. Yves St. Laurent is still the favorite in 1997 of the Socialists in the government. He uses opera arias to show his clothes. The new Bibliotheque Nationale, a Mitterand grand project, is, according to Gopnik, in the totalitarian Luxe style. Other transformations of cultural sites have been undertaken at the Louvre and the Bastille Opera. Jazz, loved by the French, and Impressionism, loved by the Americans, confirm the simple physical basis of powerful emotion.
Alice Waters is in Paris at some point during the writer's stay. He offers to cook dinner for her and is nervous. Her ends up cooking lamb for seven hours where four would have been appropriate. It seems that the purpose of the visit of Alice Waters to Paris is to determine the feasibility of opening a restaurant at the Musee des Arts Decoratifs at the Louvre. She has reconciled utopian politics with aristocratic cooking. The crucial unit of French social life is the cohort. Members of the cohort inhabit neutral places such as parks and cafes.
The couple's daughter Olivia is born in Paris. Since Paris is beautiful, but France is not a life, the family returns to America. The book is both amusing and instructive.
 a worthwhile read for lovers of Paris April 30, 2008
An interesting collection of essays about family life in Paris. Gopnik's erudite, interesting descriptions of the City of Light will delight Francophiles, although his writing is fairly pretentious and pedantic at times. Nevertheless, this book is still a worthwhile read.
Living the Spoiled Life in Paris February 10, 2008
1 out of 1 found this review helpful
I picked up this book for insights on the less-touristy aspects of Paris, prior to a trip my family is taking. It's a very enjoyable book, and the author's descriptions definitely have raised my anticipation level for our visit, as well as given me ideas about places for kids. Plus (as many other reviewers noted), it's a funny and charming book. As the husband of a former chef, I enjoyed his discursions about cooking, too.
My one complaint comes from the occasional pretentiousness and preciousness of the author's lifestyle. How many of us could move to Paris for five years during the prime of our working lives? And how many of us could take a month's vacation to the US in the summer, or fly our kids back for two days of interviews for kindergarten? Kindergarten?
The author comes from a very small slice of our society, and he both downplays this and celebrates it at different times. And I don't like it. For example, his literary allusions -- whether French, English or American -- go over my head. I'm a well-read person, but I feel as if the author is trying to show that he has a greater range than his readers. To shift from Baudelaire to the New York Knicks within a few paragraphs is trying to have it both ways -- the intellectual and the common man.
 Leave Paris in France, but send Gopnik to the Moon January 11, 2008
2 out of 3 found this review helpful
This book has been enlightening in at least one respect - I thought one had to be an upper-class English twit to be this pretentious. Gopnik, of course, is not the former, but he is most certainly the latter.
To be fair, occasionally Gopnik does present a humorous nugget or a unique insight into Parisian life (though not French life; he is only a Parisophile, not a Francophile.) It's the other 95% of the book's self-indulgent prattle that is so annoying. I swear that if Gopnik thought that too many readers understood the massive amounts of French in the book, he would switch to Latin or Greek. He is not merely a name dropper, he's a word dropper.
While it starts out well enough, no more than 1/2 way through the book the reader is reduced to skimming page after page of discussions about food, reports of haute couture fashion shows, and an endless series of boring reflections on his young son. Toward the end of the book Gopnik even mentions taking his 4-year old on a trip back to New York in order for the boy to be interviewed for admission to a good pre-school! What a turkey this Gopnik character is. How is he ever going to explain all this pomposity to the boy when he grows up?
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