There are few places I would rather be right now than France, as it is one of the most enchanted, frustrating, and complicated places that I know. I daresay I missed the Parisians a bit. I frankly think they are super. Such fascinating specimens must not go unwatched. The city itself is a microcosm of certain beautiful and alternately terrible things; history, modernity, progress, prostitution, imperialism, racism, classism, romance, beauty, tradition, formality, elitism, culture, art, and some of the most radical and interesting philosophical thought to ever grace the planet Earth. It’s good to be challenged by a place that is so quintessentially worthwhile, and so socially conflicting. It allows you to guard closely in mind that all places are broken and full of natural splendor. Christian theologian Francis Schaeffer once spoke of “wretched beauties,” in relation to the redeemed followers of Jesus. Paris, and the Parisians themselves (as do all people) apply to this description of humanity.
The flight back (home) to Paris was long, but worth every second. After a lovely Christmas vacation in California with my family, I boarded the plane for my 15 hour return to France. Although I did not sleep (despite my efforts and artificial soporific aids - Tylenol PM), I did start and finish a quite good novel called Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close. It will be a movie in a week or two back in the States, and I must say that I look forward to seeing it. Having spent a good long time away from fiction for no apparent reason, it was a lovely re-entry to the world of the modern fiction novel. Following a nine-year-old boy grappling with the death of his father in the horrors of September 11, the novelist weaves a tale of heritage, healing, and a mission to recover from the tragedy of loss and the ambivalence of life. Needless to say, I covered my face and issued warm tears into my gigantic, knit scarf for about half of the flight. Please go read it TODAY (you will be done by tomorrow...it’s that good!).
