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3.2 AVERAGE
3.2 AVERAGE
Review written: 08/02/20.
I can't say that I've read an art biography of any kind, but I enjoyed this one. Michael does a good job of bringing to life the Paris of his youth, drawing me in so well that during the epilogue, his revelation that Paris has changed since then managed to shock me. As if somehow the city he had lived was the definitive one.
Following along the twenty five years in which he lives in Paris, Michael paints an image that, from a modern perspective, is both enviable and frustrating. What I would give to have been offered the opportunities that he seemed to scorn as a young man! To read as he calls others bourgeoisie while from a 21st century perspective he comes across as this himself in many ways. But I know this makes it sound as if I didn't enjoy the book. I did. I really did.
This uncensored glimpse into another world, one so cut off from my space and time, was quite enchanting. Michael's frankness vis a vis his own shortcomings in part reduce the sting of reading about his at times questionable moral fibre (something that was frequently frustrating). I think it's a testament to the quality of the memoir that it's author so often angered me, yet this didn't negatively impact my opinions of the memoir itself.
Tales of madness, despair, hope and freedom abound in this frank novel about life in the City of Lights.
I can't say that I've read an art biography of any kind, but I enjoyed this one. Michael does a good job of bringing to life the Paris of his youth, drawing me in so well that during the epilogue, his revelation that Paris has changed since then managed to shock me. As if somehow the city he had lived was the definitive one.
Following along the twenty five years in which he lives in Paris, Michael paints an image that, from a modern perspective, is both enviable and frustrating. What I would give to have been offered the opportunities that he seemed to scorn as a young man! To read as he calls others bourgeoisie while from a 21st century perspective he comes across as this himself in many ways. But I know this makes it sound as if I didn't enjoy the book. I did. I really did.
This uncensored glimpse into another world, one so cut off from my space and time, was quite enchanting. Michael's frankness vis a vis his own shortcomings in part reduce the sting of reading about his at times questionable moral fibre (something that was frequently frustrating). I think it's a testament to the quality of the memoir that it's author so often angered me, yet this didn't negatively impact my opinions of the memoir itself.
Tales of madness, despair, hope and freedom abound in this frank novel about life in the City of Lights.
informative
The foreword was very promising so I started enthusiastically. But then it got a bit boring so I skimmed the chapters (more or less). I think it didn't like it that much because we don't share the same experience, him being a guy, having a (well-paid) job, living in fancy neighbourhood in Paris from the late 60's on. Then again, the postscript was more interesting.
And I don't like giving 2 stars on a person's memoir, but I'm a bit disappointed. Maybe my expectations were too high.
And I don't like giving 2 stars on a person's memoir, but I'm a bit disappointed. Maybe my expectations were too high.