Review: The Paris Wife

Name: The Paris Wife
Author: Paula McLain
First published: 2010
Published by: Virago


The Paris Wife came into my life shortly after I visited the French capital in May. I wanted to read something vaguely Parisian and the title suggested this might fit the bill.

This is the story of mild Hadley Richardson and her first marriage to one of America’s literary greats: the not-so-mild Ernest Hemingway, of whom I knew nothing before I read this book. The two met at a party in Chicago one summer when Hadley was 28 and Ernest was an ambitious yet unknown 21-year-old. After a whirlwind romance and a speedy marriage, despite the misgivings of Hadley’s best friend, they set sail for a new life in Paris.

Success is by no means instant for Ernest, but it becomes very clear very quickly that work is his priority; a passion he shares with friends Ezra Pound, Gertrude Stein, F. Scott Fitzgerald and Ford Maddox Ford. But will the charms of post-war Paris entice loved-up newlyweds Ernest and Hadley? Will they adopt the ‘bohemian’ (read: promiscuous) ways of their peers? It seems unlikely, but not impossible.

This great love affair is set up to fail from the beginning, although this becomes difficult to believe when the couple are at their peak. As Hadley and Ernest slowly unravelled I did wonder how their shake-up could possibly come as a surprise, but then came the blow – and I was outraged!



Ernest Hemingway and Hadley Richardson

Steeped with glamorous settings, literary figures and loose morals, The Paris Wife recreates the atmosphere of 1920s Paris, where writers spent their days in cafés, while those that loved them waited, followed, and hoped they wouldn’t be left behind. Hadley was not an artist and her position on the outskirts of this social set meant she noticed the turmoil that fuelled the talent.

After American beginnings, The Paris Wife did indeed fulfil my need for a Parisian tale, and also told me a thing or two about the ways of the disillusioned modernists. Reading about Hemingway’s early years has made me want to read his work – but there was a time during The Paris Wife when I never wanted to read a word of Hemingway – or hear his name – ever again!

One man and his cat

Name: A Street Cat Named Bob
Author: James Bowen
First published: 2012
Published by: Hodder and Stoughton

I first came across James Bowen and his remarkable street cat the same way many others did – I saw them. Admittedly I didn’t see them busking in Covent Garden, I saw a picture in the back of Bookseller magazine, but there is definitely something about Bob that makes you look twice.

This is the true story of a man who lived hand-to-mouth in London and the injured cat he nursed back to health. James and Bob made a name for themselves on the streets, first busking and then selling Big Issue, and before they knew it (literally), they had an online following.

A Street Cat Named Bob is definitely one for cat lovers. Not only will you be able to recognise Bob’s feline idiosyncrasies, you will also pick up some handy cat-care tips along the way. Did you know that cats can develop an addiction to catnip? Nor did I.

Bob promoting his new book.

I also learnt a thing or two about heroin addiction, as author James tells the story of how he turned his life around and kicked his drug habit – and he has no qualms attributing this largely to his new friend Bob.

The well-intentioned characters make this a very loveable book, and their story is all the more engaging for being true. It hasn’t been a bed of roses for James and Bob, but the way they deal with their problems – by simply caring for each other – warms the heart.

A Street Cat Named Bob will leave you with a fuzzy feeling inside and you’ll probably reach over to give your own moggy a cuddle – and then knit him a scarf.

You can see more of Bob on youtube, and his tale will be published in paperback on 13 September.

The Artist

Name: The Artist
Director: Michel Hazanavicius
Starring: Jean Dujardin, Bérénice Bejo and John Goodman
Length: 100 min

Year: 2011

The Artist is a silent film about the demise of the silent film, so there’s oodles of room for dramatic irony – in fact, the film opens with the words ‘I won’t talk’. Delicious, if you have a taste for symbolism and symmetry. But don’t be fooled, the word ‘silent’ doesn’t mean there's no soundtrack; the film actually won the 2012 Oscar for Best Music, so there is plenty to listen to.

You may think: ‘A silent film? How can that possibly be engaging when we live in such a noisy world?’ But cast your mind back to a scene on TV last night where someone discovered something shocking – remember the tension as the implications of the shock slowly registered on their face. Longing looks silently thrown across a room can reveal as much about a situation as the patchy dialogue going on over the top. Drama can be at its most dramatic when nothing is said at all.

And The Artist is dramatic. It’s a terribly tragic tale of the demise of a man living in a world that can no longer accommodate the art form he has dedicated his life to. Jean Dujardin plays the silent movie star George Valentin who refuses to move forwards with technology, despite the fact that up-and-coming beauty Peppy Miller (Bérénice Bejo) makes working on ‘talkies’ look rather inviting. Out of stubbornness and pride, George appears to lose everything but his pooch; from his famous tuxedo to his chances of romance with chirpy Peppy.

Incidentally, there should be an award for brilliant animal actors like little Uggie, who debuted in Water for Elephants. Uggie gave a stunning performance and complemented those he acted alongside. Jean Dujardin and Bérénice Bejo kept you hanging the whole way through, and both deserved their respective Oscars (Actor in a Leading Role and Actress in a Supporting Role). George's wonderfully loyal butler, Clifton, was played by James Cromwell – that’s Farmer Hogget to members of the Babe generation.

It was refreshing to see a film so charmingly different. The length was spot-on and the costumes were a feast for the eyes; dapper suits, dazzling flapper dresses, tap shoes and cloche hats. And after a few minutes of watching, I genuinely forgot that nobody was talking.

The Iron Lady

Name: The Iron Lady
Director: Phyllida Lloyd
Starring: Meryl Streep, Jim Broadbent, Richard E. Grant
Length: 105 min
Year: 2011

The Iron Lady is the somewhat controversial offering about the life and times of Lady Margaret Thatcher, first and only female Prime Minister of England (for those of you who don’t know). I came to this film as a political novice, knowing little about her life, and without being alive at the time of her ‘reign’, and I think this had quite an effect on my opinion.

Putting the 'Great' back in 'Great Britain'

The structure is one of retrospection, as ‘Maggie’ (Meryl Streep) looks back on her life and career, sometimes with fondness, and at other times without intention. A photograph, tune or news report will plague her with the recollection of a tough day in the office, and all she has left to comfort her is the hallucination of her late husband, Dennis (Jim Broadbent).

It is these hallucinations about Dennis that have caused a bit of a stir as they are speculative – the real Dennis apparently never spoke out about his wife, so the depiction of their relationship is mostly fictional. Furthermore, the portrayal of Margaret’s dementia-driven hallucinations hardly seems sympathetic given the fact that she is still alive.

Despite this, I personally felt I learnt a lot about the political decisions Thatcher had to make, why she made them, and what the outcomes were. Live footage of events was cleverly interspersed with Meryl’s top-notch acting (the Oscar is in the post, I’m sure).

Short scenes subtly open your eyes to aspects of Thatcher’s personality, for example when being thanked by a young female politician for being an inspiring role model, instead of encouraging the chosen career path of her admirer, Margaret states that one feels like one must ‘do something’. She didn’t take on the most difficult job in the country with the intention of opening doors to young women like herself; she did so purely because she wanted to change the country. And she did just that, which does make her rather inspiring.

Not perhaps the Thatcher film that some have been waiting for, as it is more of a character picture than a political chronology, but after all it is a film, not a documentary. I’m sure several more mature viewers will be disappointed with the lack of politics and the omnipresence of dementia, but as a film, it was very well done – something reflected by the applauding audience!