French Milk by Lucy Knisley is a charming graphic memoir about a 20-something’s trip to Paris. On the eve of college graduation, Lucy and her mother embark on a 6-week trip to Paris to take in the sights, smells, tastes, and every other sense. Rough drawings of the foods they eat, sights they see, and art they ponder over are cute enough…but don’t draw the reader into Paris. Which is a shame, because I really wanted to see Paris. To taste it. I understand that the nature of graphic novels/books is that the images give more than the sparse words, but in this case I feel like both were not rich enough. Then again, perhaps because of my own 3-day excursion to Paris, as well as my many readings on the City of Lights, I was unable to dive deep into the black-and-white drawings and quick touches on the Louvre and foods, probably because I already knew what they looked and tasted like, so I wanted description akin to my own knowledge of them.
I also found Lucy’s
Someone who has not yet been to Paris. This is a good “starter book” because you can read/see smattering of many things without diving into too rich detail, which may leave you confused or overwhelmed.
Bon Appetit! the delicious life of Julia Child by Jessie Hartland has similar simple drawings but so much more is packed into each page.
Sometimes I get on a kick. My current kick (read: obsession) is Paris. Again. Listening to The Sharper Your Knives the Less You Cry by Kathleen Flinn doesn’t help. Nor does watching Julie & Julia. Or The Devil Wears Prada. You could argue that I am torturing myself, and I wouldn’t deny it. So why not continue my French obsession and read a graphic novel-memoir?*
French Milk by Lucy Knisley is the graphic representation of Lucy’s journal from the 6 weeks she spent in Paris with her mother – both of whom were celebrating monumental occasions – college graduation/entering adulthood and turning 50 years old. There are even a few black and white photographs included in the book, which are in stark contrast to the simple black and white drawings the author sketched.
The Dream Thieves by Maggie Stiefvater!!!!! Ahhh!!!!! (That is all. I’d say “read my review of book 1” but I am embarrassed to say that I did not, in fact, write a review of it. I find that hard to believe, but, the blog don’t lie.)
*Yes, I know novel and memoir mean completely different things. But what if I’d written “graphic memoir”? You’d think I was reading the autobiography of Heidi Fleiss or something.
I probably should have posted this yesterday. Would have been a bit more appropriate, considering it’s called Wednesday Reads and not Thursday Reads. (Wow, that doesn’t even sound intriguing…) Sorry for the lateness. it will never happen again. Until it does.
The last time I read a book by Kathleen Flinn I purchased 4 copies – one for myself and 3 as gifts. I think the same will happen this time. In fact, I already ordered my own copy and got my husband’s blessing to put “go back to Paris” on our five-year plan. I love him. And macaroons. And French accents.
On, right…reviewing…um, The Sharper Your Knife, the Less you Cry is Kathleen’s first memoir, about her experience as a student at Le Cordon Bleu. That’ll happen in my next life…
House of Leaves by Mark Z. Danielewski is…a really intersting book. An old man is found dead, and the young man who finds his writings decides to publish them. So House of Leaves is a book about a book. Right. So this one is going to take me a while.
What are yyyyoooouuu reading?
Silly movies. Last night I watched Oscar nominated An Education (starring the stunning Carey Mulligan) about a young British girl who gets swept off her feet by the adventurous and wealthy David. I felt so close to the movie, the star, like I was her once. And truth be told, I was. I, too, loved a man whose past (and present) I was unaware of. And what I did know about him didn’t completely turn me off like it should have. I can relate to Jenny, who has the world at her feet but would give it all up for love.
What silly girls we are.
But luckily I decided on my own trip to Paris in 2007 that I would return home and break up with the deceitful man. Being in Paris, a city that had filled my dreams since I was a young teen, reminded me that I had the world at my feet and could do anything, anything I wanted. Here are a few pictures of my sister Amanda (whose hair I dyed pink 4 days prior, as she had just finished 5 years of military enlistment) and my best friend Michelle.
I think this is one movie that will stick with me forever. And I don’t mind. Because remembering difficult times and relationships make us appreciate so much more the good ones.