A review by alundeberg
Time Was Soft There: A Paris Sojourn at Shakespeare & Co. by Jeremy Mercer

3.0

Yes, it's Paris. Yes, it's Shakespeare and Co. And yes, it would be a dream to be a book store resident. But I had a serious case of the heebie-jeebies reading Jeremy Mercer's memoir, "Time Was Soft There: A Paris Sojourn at Shakespeare & Co.". Mercer, who openly tells that he has made many questionable decisions and betrayed many people's trust, finds himself on the run with dwindling funds in Paris. By a stroke of fortune, he learns that George Whitman, the owner of the venerable bookstore, lets people down on their luck stay at the bookstore for free. He moves in the next day and begins a months-long adventure of living in one of the greatest landmarks in Paris (for me) seeking redemption. Me, being of a generally suspicious and questioning nature, wondered if he was going to take advantage of Whitman's generosity and capitalize on the store's fame for his "path to redemption" and book sales. The feeling didn't leave me until the last chapter when he finally redeems himself. It felt very much like reading Michel Finkel's book, "A Stranger in the Woods: The Extraordinary Story of America's Last True Hermit", where Finkel invades the hermit's space and writes about his private life for all of the people who the hermit was hoping to avoid. It felt a bit predatory, but I assume that Mercer has Whitman's blessing.

We hear so much about Sylvia Beach's original Shakespeare and Co., that it was interesting to learn how Whitman created its second incarnation and kept in running by himself with a multitude of guests for over fifty years. Whitman, a Communist in the truest sense of the word, believes in the power of change and lending a people a helping a hand, even when they seem the least-deserving. Mercer shows the power dynamics and the politics that ultimately arise among the guests and George, as each tries to find love, write the "book", find salvation, and save the store. Whitman's motto is "Take what you need, give what you can," and he believes that kindness, good books, and a place to stay can set people back on a good path. And for many who stayed with Whitman, this is true.

One thing that bothered me was the privilege that ran through the narrative. Everyone who stays at the bookstore is educated, and each of them has other options for moving on with life-- call parents for money, move in with a significant other, find a job, present their art at a show in NY. Everyone who ends up there is generally down but not OUT. There were a couple of times when he mentions how if he gets into trouble with the police, it might upset his VISA or ability to stay in France. He mentions glibly that he is white and doesn't have much to worry about, unlike all of the non-white immigrants. It was almost said like he was relieved that the police would be of no concern for him. Later an Algerian, who he comes into contact with, is brutally attacked, killed, and dumped in the Seine. But whew! He is not a suspect, and in fact, has a nice conversation with the police about crime in the city. Both he and the Algerian are foreigners, but only one is killed. Mercer gets to live another day to ponder his life choices. Mercer is staying at Kilometer Zero, at the very heart of the city where he gets free room and board; most of the Algerian population are pushed to the outer arrondissements with little to no employment or enfranchisement. With a growing National Front with their anti-Muslim policies, life is even more tenuous and challenging for Algerians today. The title of Mercer's book is an allusion to doing soft time in prison, and Jeremy Mercer committed real crimes-- hence, the skedaddle to Paris-- and he compares his time at S & Co. to being "locked up". For the Algerians, life is tough at home and even tougher in France and parole is a long time coming.