I love Paris in September

I love Paris in September

I find myself in the anomalous position of being in Paris this week before traveling to southern France for a writing residency, where I hope to complete a new draft of my third novel.

The weather has been stunning and Paris is out in full regalia. Repairs to Notre Dame Cathedral after its catastrophic fire are well underway, with the massive scaffolding an art installation in itself, two large temporary apartment buildings erected for artisans working on the restoration, and a viewing stand lit at all hours of the night so Parisians can see how their beloved cathedral is coming along.

New wood beams under the flying buttresses, and giant caffolding.

Viewing stands busy at 8 PM.

Crowds are everywhere, tourists from across France and around the world. Today we got in to see the Modigliani show at the Orangerie, which narrates the impact that Paul Guillaume, the artist’s first dealer in Paris, had on both of their careers.

It’s never a trip to Paris without visiting food markets, where the cheese, produce, and fish are mouthwatering as ever.

Les fromages.

Les tomates et citrons.

Les poissons.

And finally, the obligatory photograph in front of a classic metro sign.

If you’re looking to read a book by one of the latest enfants terribles of French letters, I recommend Édouard Louis (all his books are translated into English). His raw take on the perils of working class life in the age of neoliberalism, growing up gay in a town that has other ideas about manhood, and life in the big city, are singular and different from what I had read before. Here’s a piece I wrote in 2019 on Louis’s WHO KILLED MY FATHER (QUI A TUÉ MON PÈRE) for NPR.

Happy fall to you and yours.

À bientôt,

Martha