The thoughts and hopes and prayers I have in the second half of my life.
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Tuesday, September 30, 2014
Lovers at the Chameleon Club, Paris 1932 by Francine Prose
This is a deceptively serious book written in a light fashion. It centers on a cabaret style club in France, owned by Yvonne. She has a pet lizard and a weakness for sailors. Her club is the hub of sexual transgressions, military intrigue, and social change. The interlocking voices who tell the story — all seductive and unreliable in their own ways
— show Paris as it devolves from the decadence and gallows humor of the
1930s to the terror and bravery of the Occupation. In this alchemy of patriotism, xenophobia, sexual frustration and
anti-Semitism, the book raises up underground heroes and cosmic villains.
We hear first off from Brassaï, self renamed Gabor, in his affectionate
letters to his parents in Hungary. While they are attempts at reassurance and full of gratitude for their financial
support, he describes the bizarre sights of the city even while begging
them not to worry. The other characters are equally diverse and interesting and the scenes are disturbing and turbulent, all the while maintaining an air of off-handedness.
Mother of four boys.
Co-owner of three dogs.
No cats, no fish, no birds.
I watch movies.
I quilt and I embroider.
I am a daughter, a sister, an aunt, a neighbor, and a friend.