This is a SUPER interesting book about an American who lives in Paris with her French husband and consists of compare/contrast pieces about the cultures.
A critique I read of the book said she was constantly down on the French which is obviously not true (see: paragraph above).
But there IS a… defensiveness to this book. At one point the author talks about a woman who was in basically the same situation she was in when she wrote the book - married to a Frenchman in Paris - and she said she felt that every day was a fight for her to maintain her American-ness and it was exhausting for her, not giving in to the culture surrounding her. That every day was a fight to maintain her identity as an American.
I don’t get it. Why would you move to another country, marry a resident, and then insist that none of that culture encroach on your day-to-day? Why would you WANT to do that? If you want to maintain that way of life, why not just stay in America?
But the woman divorced the Frenchman and hooked up with another American living in Paris and now she’s fine.
The book has moments where you feel the author has similar feelings, but goes along with other parts when they make sense.
I just don’t understand the idea that someone’s identity can consist of their nationality to such an extreme that they actively resist alternative approaches to things because it isn’t - in this case - American. Do they really lack so much personality that they have to lean on the vague and massive trait of “American?” What would that even mean? And it makes me curious as to what they were trying to preserve exactly in a city like Paris and a sensible culture like the French’s.
Again, I don’t think the author is down on the French and I think the Goodreads reviews of this are harsh and unwarranted. It’s an interesting book with good insight into another culture.
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