If there’s any one particular genre I am more drawn to than another, it is the sub-genre of both fiction and non-fiction that is specifically for bibliophiles: books on books, books about libraries, bookstores, and authors. It’s no wonder that my entire adult life has been dedicated to book blogging and book selling, and as an author, it is what I write about as well.
Imagine my excitement when I saw The Little Paris Bookshop arrive at the used bookstore where I work.
It took me a few months before I broke down and bought it. I kept thinking what I think for most contemporary fiction, there will be dozens of these for a dollar in no time. I wasn’t wrong, there are dozens of them floating around for next to nothing in many places, but I was in a hurry and eager to read something I just knew I would love.
It has taken me a few months to write this review, however, now that I have read it. I had to stew. I had to think. Mainly, because I didn’t love it. Not only did I not love it, there were many parts of the book I was on the verge of strongly disliking it. The disappointment was great, but as a writer of the genre, it’s difficult for me to be critical when the idea is so gorgeous but the execution so awful. It’s style and preference and world view affecting my ability to connect with the story. I know that is true of other people with my own stories, but it never makes it any less unpleasant to hear. And this woman has an international book deal, so what do I know?
Technically, Nina George is far more talented than I am, I’m sure. Yet, I floundered and forced myself to read this. I adore the shop itself — Mr. Perdu’s Literary Apothecary is on a barge no less! The opening chapters are beautifully done, introducing our book expert and his customers. It was Manon, the adultery, the awkward sex scenes, and pretty much every other part of the story that kept me dropping the book in my lap, tilting my head back into the sun, and saying out loud, “Really?”
I nearly didn’t finish it. I was tempted to throw it away.
Now, in September (having read it in July), I’m determined to keep it, but only so I may learn from it. I have placed it on a Goodreads shelf I’m building that I’ve labeled toolbox books, things I either purposefully read to utilize for the honing of my craft or am only keeping so I may reference its strengths and weaknesses later while dissecting my own work.
On the flip side, a few years ago, while I was not blogging regularly, I read Mr. Penumbra’s 24-Hour Bookstore. Despite it’s obvious title and glow in the dark cover, I was completely surprised by the content of the story –Yet I loved it! Every second of it was a delight. The same year, I believe, I read and reviewed Gabrielle Zevin’s The Storied Life of A.J. Fikry. I cried and cried, it was so beautiful. I could go on listing my favorites: Helene Hanff’s non-fiction collection of real letters 84, Charing Cross Road; award winning Penelope Fitzgerald’s The Bookshop; Diane Setterfield’s mysterious The Thirteenth Tale; Christopher Morley’s Parnassus series.
What is your favorite sub-genre? What books have you been disappointed by from this corner of the publishing world? What books moved you to tears?
