Like Ernest Hemmingway in the 1920s and Julio Cortazar in
the 1950s, well-known and award-winning Spanish writer Enrique Vila-Matas spent
two years in the 1970s finding himself by losing himself in the City of Lights.
The author recounts his adventures and misadventures in the 2003 novel Paris
no se acaba nunca which was translated by Anne McLean in 2011 as Never Any
End to Paris. The book is supposed to be a tale about a modern day writer who
is giving a seminar workshop on irony. By the end of the book, however, that façade
has faded away, and the author is talking directly to his readers about his
experiences.
What a strange and wonderful time this young man had living
in the Left Bank during the 1970s in a garret at the house of Marguerite Duras
as he wrote his first novel. He crossed paths with people like playwright Samuel
Beckett, author Jorge Luis Borges, actress Jean Seberg, costumer designer
Paloma Picasso and other well-known people who were drawn to Paris as a center
of culture and celebrity. He also knew many other young artists who would later
become famous, but at that time they were just getting started in their
respective careers. In fact, I encourage you to have your computer or tablet
handy to google the different people that you’ll encounter in this book. I did,
and now I have a new list of books I want to read.
This is a wonderful book that runs the gamut of reminiscences
from laugh-out-loud funny to quite quite sad. It is also in its own way a very
good study of irony and an interesting meditation on the craft of writing.
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