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开 本: 32开纸 张: 胶版纸包 装: 平装是否套装: 否国际标准书号ISBN: 9780375758232
Advance praise for Paris to the Moon
”Adam Gopnik’s avid intelligence and nimble pen found subjects to
love in Paris and in the growth of his small American family there.
A conscientious, scrupulously savvy American husband and father
meets contemporary France, and fireworks result, lighting up not
just the Eiffel Tower.”
–John Updike
”Adam Gopnik’s Paris to the Moon abounds in the sensuous delights
of the city–the magical carousel in the Luxembourg Gardens, the
tomato dessert at Arpège, even the exquisite awfulness of the new
state library. But the even greater joys of this exquisite memoir
are timeless and even placeless–the excitement of the journey, the
confusion of an outsider, and, most of all, the love of a
family.”
–Jeffrey Toobin
”The chronicle of an American writer’s lifelong infatuation with
Paris is also an extended meditation–in turn hilarious and deeply
moving–on the threat of globalization, the art of parenting, and
the civilizing intimacy of family life. Whether he’s writing about
the singularity of the Papon trial, the glory of bistro cuisine,
the wacky idiosyncrasies of French kindergartens, or the vexing
bureaucracy of Parisian health clubs, Gopnik’s insights are infused
with a formidable cultural intelligence, and his prose is as
pellucid as that of any essayist. A brilliant, exhilarating
book.”
–Francine du Plessix
Gray
”Adam Gopnik is a dazzling talent–hilarious, winning, and
deft–but the surprise of Paris to the Moon is its quiet, moral
intelligence. This book begins as journalism and ends up as
literature.”
–Malcolm Gladwell — Review
Paris. The name alone conjures images of chestnut-lined
boulevards, sidewalk cafés, breathtaking fa?ades 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 café–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 Musée 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.”
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