What is the French word for 'boundaries'?

Paris from different viewpoints

Dear Friend, 

I hope spring is treating you well where you are. 

It is a fact generally acknowledged that Paris is a more aggressive place than London. You are much more likely to run into overt conflict, and it is a place where the lines between the self and others are much more porous. Even in the era of noise-cancelling headphones and boredom-scrolling, there is still a chance at any time that a stranger will comment upon you, or ask something unexpected of you. One of my good friends, a Londoner who spends quite a lot of time in Paris, cites the un-boundaried-ness of Paris as one of the reasons she would find it hard to live here full-time – she says she appreciates the peaceful anonymity of London. 

Though random commentary can always be expected, I seem to have had a higher-than-average amount of it recently, I think due firstly to spring weather and more people being out,  and secondly due to now being highly visibly pregnant. 

I have felt like my being pregnant has been obvious for months now, as of course the changes in my own body have been very apparent to me, but I’ve only relatively recently reached the stage where I am looking  like the silhouette of a pregnant lady you would see on an informational sign. It is now undoubtedly obvious enough that, most of the time at least,  someone offers me a seat on the bus. But it also seems to be inviting an interesting range of comments, some more predictable than others. 

There is the more pedestrian commentary on impending parenthood. Among the least helpful, I must admit, is the question, “are you ready?”. The answer to this is of course: no! Obviously not! 

I have written here before about my years-long quest to obtain a driving licence. In the latest installment of my quest, over the last few months I have been taking driving lessons, and though I technically have not yet passed a test, I have – miraculously –  progressed. I have reached a point where driving autonomously no longer feels like an INSANE SUPERPOWER, but rather something I might be able to do one day – one day soon even. 

Well, I feel like someone asking me now if I am ready to be a parent is equivalent to someone asking me six months ago if I was ready to drive. Of course not. I could not possibly have felt ready, but after months of being forced to manage behind the wheel in busy Paris traffic, I had no choice. My feeling is parenthood may be a similarly sink-or-swim kind of thing. 

Some of the comments I have received in recent weeks, however, have been  less orthodox than commentary on the size of my stomach, or questions on whether I am ready. For example, the other day, my dog  and I were coming home from my shared office on a sunny afternoon when a chic older woman sidled towards us. “Excusez moi, Madame,” she began, “I have something I have always wanted to know; may I ask you?”. I agreed as we were both waiting for the pedestrian light to turn green and I had little choice. “Alors, I had a friend once who worked at ‘Paris Match’, and she told me that dogs can have a “grossesse nerveuse” [meaning ‘phantom pregnancy’]. Is this true?”. I informed her that I believed it was true. I actually did have some expertise on this subject because our family dog, a loveably deranged Rough Collie called Sheba, once did have a phantom pregnancy, but I wondered what it was about me that made this woman choose me as the source for her burning curiosity – perhaps the combination of my own pregnancy and dog? 

Later this week, I was waiting outside a cobbler’s shop with my partner, who is Kenyan, a little further down the same road in my neighbourhood. A very small and nervously animated woman appeared in the distance at the next street corner. Looking at us she excitedly exclaimed, “l’amour!”. Then, in English she began shouting “white and black!”, “ white and black!” walking towards us, the exclamation becoming louder like an approaching siren, until it was impossible to ignore – “WHITE AND BLACK!!”. Then, as she came past  us, she looked at my stomach and exclaimed in a very strong French accent, “Kinder Suprise” pronounced, ‘KEENdeerr SurrprEEEZ!!’. 

There is no preparing for the streets of Paris. 

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So little time, so much to see in Paris this summer 

In recent weeks, many people have also said something to me along the lines of: ‘well, you better watch a movie/ have breakfast / brush your hair / go outside / breathe now, because pretty soon that will be over for you!’. I do think/hope these pronouncements may be slightly dramatic – not least because I have seen with my own eyes friends who are parents visiting the cinema/ eating in cafés / appearing with brushed hair / venturing outside / breathing… but still, I am taking the last few weeks of pregnancy to make the most of what Paris has to offer. 

Last weekend I went to the Cinémateaque Francaise in Bercy, a disarmingly modern part of Paris with big, wide roads, spacious new-builds and a pretty urban park. The Cinémateque is a centre dedicated to the history, preservation and screening of cinema and is housed in an offbeat, Frank Gehry-designed building.  I went to see a retrospective dedicated to the work of the American writer-director  Wes Anderson, who is a Francophile and spends time in Paris. The exhibition was incredibly busy, but among the throngs I managed to get a good look at artefacts, notes and photos relating to the famous American auteur’s various works from early movie Rushmore, to classics like The Royal Tenenbaums. I particularly enjoyed the exhibits relating to his films made with stop-motion, which featured striking figurines of dogs set in Japanese cityscapes (Isle of Dogs)  and a whole cast of raggedy rogues for The Fantastic Mr. Fox. 

Yesterday I ventured into the Marais to see an exhibition dedicated to one of my absolute favourite French cultural figures, Agnès Varda. The film director, photographer and artist began as part of the naturalist New Wave movement in the Fifties and Sixties and continued making idiosyncratic and deeply charming films right up until her death in 2019. The exhibition is hosted at the elegant  Musée Carnavalet, a former aristocratic mansion transformed into a museum about Paris itself, whose permanent exhibition is free. The Varda exhibit is dedicated to her photography of Paris and it’s a delight to be immersed in the Paris of the latter 20th and early 21st century as seen through her playful and wise gaze. 

FR: “Je crois que les gens, c’est tout de même ce qu’il y a de plus intéressant”

EN: “I believe that after all, it’s people that are the most interesting. ”

 – Agnès Varda 

The beautiful gardens at the Musée Carnavalet

Optional: A bagel at Sacha Finkelsztajn deli nearby

As well as, Le Paris d’Agnès Varda, de-ci, de-là, there is a glut of other interesting exhibitions in Paris at the moment/this summer in case you are here, or have plans to visit, including: 

• David Hockney 25 at the Foundation Louis Vuitton –  A sweeping retrospective of the English painter’s work, with a particular emphasis on the last 25 years, with hands-on curation from the artist himself (also a Francophile) . 

• Artemisia: Heroine of art at Musée Jacquemart André – Housed inside a mansion house museum close to the elegant Parc Monceau, this exhibition focuses on the work of Artemisia Gentileschi, one of very few women artists to enjoy success and recognition in her own time (though not without facing significant adversity). I will try to get to  this exhibition soon. 

• Matisse et Marguerite at the Musée d’Art Moderne – This exhibition of over 100 works by the famed 20th century artist centres around his relationship with his beloved eldest daughter Marguerite, who he drew and painted for decades.

• GO SOON! Suzanne Valadon at the Centre Pompidou – I have written about it once before but it bears repeating. It is well worth going to see this wonderful retrospective dedicated to the vibrant work of the Montmartrois Post-Impressionist painter. 

Older Agnès Varda, by Hannah Meltzer

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Thirty-second book club

For my last real life book club meeting, my friend Fiona suggested Playground by Richard Powers. Powers won a Pulitzer Prize for his last novel, The Overstory, which I haven’t actually read but I understand is about trees. People and trees. Playground is about people and the sea, the ecosystems of our deep and mysterious oceans, and also the influence of Silicon Valley billionaires, and also AI, and also the ancient game Go. There is a lot happening in this book, and I’m not sure I was altogether satisfied with it. But it definitely made me think. Not least about how huge the ocean is. 

Next I read Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie’s new novel, Dream Count. I was very happy about the release of this one as I am a big fan of the Nigerian author’s work. It did not disappoint. She is eminently readable and her observations about people and the world are confidently and convincingly evoked. The novel tells the story of four women. Three are Nigerian, two living permanently in America and finding that country to be variously exciting and challenging;  the third woman lives mostly in Nigeria, but tries out America, and the fourth  is from Guinea and lives in America. This fourth character is somewhat inspired by  Nafissatou Diallo, the woman who accused French politician and former director of the International Monetary Fund,  Dominique Strauss-Kahn of sexual assault. The incident took place in a Sofitel hotel in New York in 2011, where Diallo worked as a maid. In the epilogue of the book Ngozi Adichie writes about how and why she chose to write fiction inspired by this woman’s story: 

“I could not stop thinking about the woman at the center of it all [...]

Nafissatou Diallo had accused a man so well-known and so floridly in the public eye that it was impossible to reduce him to a single thing: a man accused of assault. But she became, in the public imagination, the woman whose case against an important man was dropped because she was said to have lied. An ungenerous, undignified representation, incomplete and unflattering.” 

The ‘DSK’ case made news throughout the world, but had the most direct impact in France, where the politician was widely understood to be the strongest candidate for the Parti Socialiste to run against Nicolas Sarkozy in the 2012 presidential election, instead of Francois Hollande. Ideas around French society and politics come up repeatedly in the novel. Ngozi Adichie is quite critical of the country, in particular its treatment of people from former French colonies in Sub-Saharan Africa. In 2018, the author was invited to speak as a guest of honour at La Nuit des Idées, a cultural event hosted by the French foreign ministry. At one point, the French journalist interviewing her asked – she said ironically – if there are any bookshops in Nigeria. The author looks taken aback but composed, replying calmly, “I think the fact you would ask me that question reflects poorly on French people”. She expands on this statement, talking about the often hostile reception she faces on entry into France as someone holding an African passport. She suggests that France has an outdated perception of its power in the world. In Dream Count, the character Chiamaka says the following: 

“New York city featured in my imagined lives, maybe because it is the city that is supposed to feature in imagined lives. Paris featured too, another city I do not care for. Paris wears its badge of specialness too heavily, and therefore gracelessly; Paris assumes it will charm you merely because it is charming.”

I watched a recent interview with the author for the promotion cycle of this book. When questioned about the depiction of France, she replies with a winning smile, “you know, not everybody likes Paris!”.  

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Despite warnings to the contrary, I hope I will find some time to write this summer. I also have another exciting guest letter lined up for you from

Les Soeurcières

– so look out for that one too.  I’d like to thank Lou, the founder of

The FBC Paris

, for her recent guest letter. It was a pleasure to host her. If you missed her missive on her own route to Paris, her reflections on feminism in France, and her recommendations for interesting books and places, you can catch up on it here. 

As ever, please do like and share this post if the spirit moves you to! 

Yours, 

Hannah