Status
Available
Call number
Collections
Publication
Bloomsbury Publishing PLC (2014), 272 pages
Description
When Edmund White moved to Paris in 1983, leaving New York City in the midst of the AIDS crisis, he was forty-three years old, couldn't speak French, and only knew two people in the entire city. But in middle age, he discovered the new anxieties and pleasures of mastering a new culture. When he left fifteen years later to take a teaching position in the U.S., he was fluent enough to broadcast on French radio and TV, and in his work as a journalist, he'd made the acquaintance of everyone fromYves Saint Laurent to Catherine Deneuve to Michel Foucault. He'd also developed a close friendship with an older woman, Marie-Claude, through which he'd come to understand French life and culture in a deeper way. The book's title evokes the Parisian landscape in the eternal mists and the half-light, the serenity of the city compared to the New York White had known (and vividly recalled inCity Boy). White fell headily in love with the city and its culture: both intoxicated and intellectually stimulated. He became the definitive biographer of Jean Genet; he wrote lives of Marcel Proust and Arthur Rimbaud; and he became a recipient of the French Order of Arts and Letters.Inside a Pearlrecalls those fertile years for White. It's a memoir which gossips and ruminates, and offers a brilliant examination of a city and a culture eternally imbued with an aura of enchantment.… (more)
User reviews
LibraryThing member Chatterbox
This is a wildly erratic and uneven memoir of the author's years spent living in Paris. At its worst, it's little more than a series of tedious series of encounters with famous celebrities, as the author blithely name-drops hither and yon, telling us of this dinner with that famous individual, and
These might be mildly amusing dinner party anecdotes for White's friends; they didn't work at all for me. In fact, even though I'm familiar or knowledgeable with many of the names he drops so resoundingly (not personally, but in the sense of having read their work, or seen it, etc.), hearing these endless anecdotes flow out from White's pen felt like being stuck in a corner with someone breathlessly recounting the last 20 years of their life to you, one day at a time. "And then I did this..." "And then she said that..." After a point, one simply stops caring about WHO it is that he's talking about and simply end up bored and exhausted. Unless you're a devotee of gossip. White is: he calls himself an archaelogist of gossip. I'm not.
Nor am I interested in the minutiae of anyone else's sex life, or the gay sex scene in Paris of the time, including when/how to cruise for sex in Paris, or the anatomical details. If I know the people involved, I'm interested because of them; if not, it's neither interesting nor titillating, in part because White doesn't expand this to say anything broader about European sexual mores in any interesting or significant way. (He's better at making that kind of leap when talking about stuff like personal style, or friendship, or food, however.)
But then, in between all this stuff that bored me, there are White's thoughtful and moving observations of the friends he made, especially Marie-Claude de Brunhoff, and his thoughts about Paris itself -- a city "full of things an older person likes -- books, food, museums." Occasionally, I'd stumble over perfect phrases or analyses: "Painting -- and heavily subsidized arts like ballet and poetry and "serious" music -- were obliged to be avant-garde in order to seem flamboyantly original. Fiction and theater, which were expected to earn their own keep, had to maintain a broader appeal." That, he notes, is one reason why writers "who had to please so many more culture consumers, many of them with brows firmly in the middle." A wonderful phrase! Later, he writes of one acquaintance that he "devoured books the way other people ate croissants -- one or two daily."
So, I'm left divided in my thoughts about this book, and White in general. I tend to dislike this arch and sometimes camp tone; the emphasis on style and panache -- and yet beneath it runs a vein of immense substance and the two appear inseparable. He often comes across as a garrulous busybody who derives a sense of his own importance from all the Big Names he knows. (It takes less than a page for him to start dropping them and he never stops...)
I did expect this to be a memoir, but Paris is almost incidental. Yes, Paris shapes the people who dominate the memoir, but even so, these aren't ordinary people; many of them are cross-cultural celebrities. Having spent large chunks of my life in Northern Europe, France and -- yes -- Paris, I wouldn't recommend this as a book about what it's like to live there. It's what it's like to live in one corner of the literary beau monde, where how you look and the caliber of your dinner party chatter is significant. That's not le tout Paris, any more than is, say, the Louvre and romantic novels about Marie Antoinette.
White is clearly witty, intelligent, and a wry observer of it all. He understands how differently the French define friendship -- and captures the distinction in a few pithy phrases. He nails the reason why the Brits and the French may always struggle with mutual incomprehension: it's the absence among the latter of a sense of the ridiculous, which deflates.
This is a lot of words devoted to sorting out my thoughts about the book. It's not one I'm likely to re-read, and one that left me wrinkling my nose with dislike a chunk of the time, but on the other hand, there are moments when it all clicks together. If you're the kind of person who reads social diaries and is as curious in the "who" as well as the "where" and the "what", then you'll find this amusing. But even if you're just looking for the literary element -- yes, there are references to Hollinghurst, to White's bio of Genet, etc. etc. -- it's a small subset of the book and I don't think warrants the time and attention required to read the whole thing. Borrow it and skim through it if you must, using an index as a guide, but don't think you'll be missing much
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that big party where he saw so and so do such and such. Yawn. Even worse is when he digresses completely -- eg "I had to fly to Mexico City to interview the ageing movie diva Maria Felix. She kept me waiting for a day while she washed her hair." What?? Or: the anecdote of travelng overnight in Jordan to catch a plane while the driver tells him about his unhappy marriage to a Texan "whose parents insisted he must be a Mexican since had a funny accent and was tan." These might be mildly amusing dinner party anecdotes for White's friends; they didn't work at all for me. In fact, even though I'm familiar or knowledgeable with many of the names he drops so resoundingly (not personally, but in the sense of having read their work, or seen it, etc.), hearing these endless anecdotes flow out from White's pen felt like being stuck in a corner with someone breathlessly recounting the last 20 years of their life to you, one day at a time. "And then I did this..." "And then she said that..." After a point, one simply stops caring about WHO it is that he's talking about and simply end up bored and exhausted. Unless you're a devotee of gossip. White is: he calls himself an archaelogist of gossip. I'm not.
Nor am I interested in the minutiae of anyone else's sex life, or the gay sex scene in Paris of the time, including when/how to cruise for sex in Paris, or the anatomical details. If I know the people involved, I'm interested because of them; if not, it's neither interesting nor titillating, in part because White doesn't expand this to say anything broader about European sexual mores in any interesting or significant way. (He's better at making that kind of leap when talking about stuff like personal style, or friendship, or food, however.)
But then, in between all this stuff that bored me, there are White's thoughtful and moving observations of the friends he made, especially Marie-Claude de Brunhoff, and his thoughts about Paris itself -- a city "full of things an older person likes -- books, food, museums." Occasionally, I'd stumble over perfect phrases or analyses: "Painting -- and heavily subsidized arts like ballet and poetry and "serious" music -- were obliged to be avant-garde in order to seem flamboyantly original. Fiction and theater, which were expected to earn their own keep, had to maintain a broader appeal." That, he notes, is one reason why writers "who had to please so many more culture consumers, many of them with brows firmly in the middle." A wonderful phrase! Later, he writes of one acquaintance that he "devoured books the way other people ate croissants -- one or two daily."
So, I'm left divided in my thoughts about this book, and White in general. I tend to dislike this arch and sometimes camp tone; the emphasis on style and panache -- and yet beneath it runs a vein of immense substance and the two appear inseparable. He often comes across as a garrulous busybody who derives a sense of his own importance from all the Big Names he knows. (It takes less than a page for him to start dropping them and he never stops...)
I did expect this to be a memoir, but Paris is almost incidental. Yes, Paris shapes the people who dominate the memoir, but even so, these aren't ordinary people; many of them are cross-cultural celebrities. Having spent large chunks of my life in Northern Europe, France and -- yes -- Paris, I wouldn't recommend this as a book about what it's like to live there. It's what it's like to live in one corner of the literary beau monde, where how you look and the caliber of your dinner party chatter is significant. That's not le tout Paris, any more than is, say, the Louvre and romantic novels about Marie Antoinette.
White is clearly witty, intelligent, and a wry observer of it all. He understands how differently the French define friendship -- and captures the distinction in a few pithy phrases. He nails the reason why the Brits and the French may always struggle with mutual incomprehension: it's the absence among the latter of a sense of the ridiculous, which deflates.
This is a lot of words devoted to sorting out my thoughts about the book. It's not one I'm likely to re-read, and one that left me wrinkling my nose with dislike a chunk of the time, but on the other hand, there are moments when it all clicks together. If you're the kind of person who reads social diaries and is as curious in the "who" as well as the "where" and the "what", then you'll find this amusing. But even if you're just looking for the literary element -- yes, there are references to Hollinghurst, to White's bio of Genet, etc. etc. -- it's a small subset of the book and I don't think warrants the time and attention required to read the whole thing. Borrow it and skim through it if you must, using an index as a guide, but don't think you'll be missing much
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LibraryThing member SigmundFraud
Edmund White is one of my most favorite writers. I especially like his fictional autobiographical trilogy. Edmund has had a very interesting life both in New York and Paris. He has been out as a homosexual for ever and for that I admire him. He has few if any pretenses. His most recent book INSIDE
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A PEARL: MY YEARS IN PARIS is just that.The book lacks a center but it is a collection of episodes and ancedotes of Edmund's life in Paris where he knew everybody who was anybody and he has plenty to say about them. I enjoyed the book because i enjoy Edmund but he has written many much better books but that is not meant to discourage you from reading INSIDE A PEARL. Show Less
LibraryThing member freelancer_frank
This is a book about life in France in the eighties, specifically the lives of a certain cultural and intellectual elite. White is frank, amusing, poetic and deliciously forthright in his accounts of interactions, both with the famous and the unknown. The book has the slimmest of narrative threads,
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but it does not really need one, such is the intricacy and intrigue of White's adventures and character portraits. Show Less
LibraryThing member lilithcat
You'd think a book with this title would be about Paris. Not so much. It's more about the famous people White met, had dinner with, had sex with. He drops names even when they're irrelevant, when they're the people peripherally connected to the people he met, had dinner with, had sex with.
This was
This was
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a huge disappointment. White has written other books about Paris that really were about Paris. Try The Flaneur: A Stroll Through the Paradoxes of Paris or Our Paris: Sketches from Memory (written with Hubert Sorin) instead. Show Less
LibraryThing member heggiep
I stuck it out 'til the end but, after finishing the book, thought, "Man, I could have read a Conrad, Greene, or Ford novel instead." The one-and-a-half stars is for the good binding.
LibraryThing member jbarr5
Inside of a Pearl, Life in Paris by Edmund White
A journalist has left NY in the 80's and moves to Paris where he only knows 2 people. He learns all about the lifestyle and how to survive.
Gay sex scenes. I had wanted to read this book because I love pearls and I have always wanted to travel to
This book has a bit too much scenes which I don't wish to read about so I've not finished the book.
I received this book from National Library Service for my BARD (Braille Audio Reading Device).
A journalist has left NY in the 80's and moves to Paris where he only knows 2 people. He learns all about the lifestyle and how to survive.
Gay sex scenes. I had wanted to read this book because I love pearls and I have always wanted to travel to
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Paris, which we have (in TN). The structure of the Eiffel Tower has always fascinated me.This book has a bit too much scenes which I don't wish to read about so I've not finished the book.
I received this book from National Library Service for my BARD (Braille Audio Reading Device).
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LibraryThing member alexyskwan
A good read and a very comprehensive look at his Paris years, though I don't know 95% of the people he was name-dropping.
LibraryThing member Opinionated
The first half of this memoir is interesting. Edmund White is very wary of not being Theodore Zeldin. The admired historian wrote a book called "The French" (and very good fun it is too) analysing French traits and characteristics, which his fellow French hated. White clearly doesn't want this fate
The reader is left with little idea of what Mr White actually did in Paris - his work, his writing etc. Instead we get many pages of seemingly random reminiscences.
So whilst I enjoyed parts of the book very much I did find it uneven
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to befall him; he also clearly doesn't want his book to be the Parisian equivalent of "My Year in Provence". So what to do? He tries to focus on the French people he'd known and loved, but does occasionally fall into the Zeldin trap, and quite honestly the book is better when he does and because of this the first 150 pages are lively and amusing. The second half of the book though generates into a list of Mr White's relationships, their untimely demise in most cases, and who he had dinner with. There are some very poignant and moving passages; but also quite a bit of filler. The reader is left with little idea of what Mr White actually did in Paris - his work, his writing etc. Instead we get many pages of seemingly random reminiscences.
So whilst I enjoyed parts of the book very much I did find it uneven
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LibraryThing member dbsovereign
This is an interesting, anecdotal recounting of White’s time in Paris. He spends a lot of time talking about his friends and lovers there, their parties/dinners and the lessons he learned about the city and the French. As with any expat, he also gains insight into his own country (USA) and its
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culture. This is also an ode to Marie-Claude de Brunhoff - a literary hostess, artist and critic - and their friendship. While in Paris White also says goodbye to his youth. He loves to name drop and bemoans the fact that he is more famous in Europe than in his own country. I would recommend this to anyone who wants to find out more about White and French culture. Show Less
Awards
Lambda Literary Award (Finalist — 2015)
Language
Original language
English
Original publication date
2014
ISBN
1408837854 / 9781408837856