A review by sarahlreadseverything
French Milk by Lucy Knisley

2.0

Although the artwork was lovely (if muddly) I just couldn't identify at all with the narrator. She came over as young, spoilt and trying to hide it by putting on an air of highbrow intellegensia. Six weeks in Paris are occupied mainly by art gallerys, eating and A LOT of shopping, and this is somehow meant to equate to a treatise on the authors changing relationship with her mother? (who is treated as a minor character. The 'changing relationship' seems to consist of 2 or 3 small spats). And seriously, who takes up smoking just to 'fit in in smokey Paris'?