Anna Karenina; this weekend

I must write this now, before the transcendental mood passes, even though it is a most inopportune time given the loads of unfortunate homework I have to do.

I just finished Anna Karenina and, as one always does after finishing novels of epic proportions, I feel especially pensive. As I walked from Café Beaubourg near the Centre Pompidou to Pub Saint Germain to meet up with Heimunn and Farah, I felt very much alive and free. I saw commotion near Les Halles, dogs walking, people taking pictures, and all the monuments lit up. It was beautiful and I loved it all, and I felt as though I understood Paris better than I had understood it, up to that point. Of course these lucid moments are fleeting and nearly always instigated by some rhetoric found in books like Anna Karenina, but nonetheless I appreciated walking and breathing Paris to the marrow. This is an inarticulate description of my current mindset, but it will have to suffice.

With that out of the way, some criticism and general remarks on the book. I have been reading Tolstoy’s novel for many months now, spanning the end of summer, a break during fall quarter, and recommencement during winter break. I enjoyed it for the overwhelming majority of the time and I am impressed with Tolstoy’s story-telling abilities and character development. As I neared the end, however, Anna’s character grated on me more and more. Her paranoia and irrational jealousies, self-pity, and overall ridiculousness were difficult to digest. It is likely that this was intentional, but still. Stupid Anna! I was probably supposed to pity her more, but didn’t. At all. I found her to be selfish. Perhaps this will change as I distance myself from the book, but those are the current impressions.

Also, the last forty pages of the prose were a bit too philosophical. The ideas those forty pages described could be better expressed in twenty pages. This is not to say that I didn’t and don’t appreciate the ideas and the conclusions Levin in particular came to, it’s just that Oscar Wilde’s insight always rings true: “Brevity is the soul of wit.”

When I finished, I wanted to read some of the critical articles at the back of the edition. The writing in the front cover— “Eric Saar, 5th period AP English”— made me miss the critical analysis that English classes force upon you. I wished to think more about the book in a directed manner, but the dim light of the Beaubourg Café and the impinging dinner rush rushed me out to seek another hideout. Which is where I find myself now.

Pub Saint Germain is amazing. I should have come here sooner! The ambiance beats that of any other café I’ve been to yet. It’s huge. It’s warm. It plays jazzy but not cheesy music. A tap dancer just made his rounds to the various floors, giving a little performance to the delights café dwellers. The décor is decidedly India-inspired, but in a chic way. And free wi-fi! The prices reflect all of this, unfortunately.

Quick recap of the weekend. Friday I was once again out of commission due to the pesky food poisoning. After watching some Sex and the City, I retired early. Saturday was better since I finally flushed the norovirus from my body. I met up with Farah, Fadlo, Jen and JW on Rue Cler for lunch. Rue Cler is a picturesque cobblestone street with all the specialty food stores that are so Paris: fromagerie, boucherie, boulangerie, épicerie, etc. Plans in the future include getting yummy treats and picnicking under the Eiffel Tour. I want warm weather!

Semi-candid shot at Blue Elephant. Note decor.

I spent the evening back at the abode before heading out to the Bastille for dinner. It was amazing! We went to this incredible Thai place called the Blue Elephant that Heimunn’s host family recommended. The food was good and really hit the spot since I’ve been craving good Asian food. The décor was impressive, very novel and jungle-like. We sat at low table with floor cushions; there was a hole under the table for our feet, though, so it felt as though we were seated at a normal table. We split appetizers and entrees, and had a lovely range of flavors artfully presented to us. After dinner we attempted to look at the Bergé-Laurent collection on display in the Grand Palais but the line was out of control! It wrapped along the side of the Grand Palais and poured onto the sidewalk, creeping toward the metro stop Champs-Elysees Clemenceau. We ditched those plans and killed some time loitering outside the Petit Palais before going to Showcase, a club that has been recommended to us by many.

Heimunn, Farah and Fadlo outside Grand Palais;
you can vaguely see the enormous line!

We went early to avoid paying cover, and the large club was almost empty. The architecture was cool, since it is literally built underneath Pont Alexandre, but that was the only thing cool about it. The music was downright bad. A bunch of twenty-something dudes gesticulated onstage, too excited about their live electronica performance to heed that it sucked. One of them wore a deep v-neck t-shirt, clearly from American Apparel, and when he raised his arms (which was often), large pit stains were presented to the audience. Disappointing. We tried to stick it out, waiting for me more people to come and the music to pick up, but it never did. The evening had started out so strongly at Blue Elephant, but Showcase really sucked. Oh well, at least I made the metro home.

This week will be packed with tests and things due, but it will be capped off with five days in Barcelona! We are renting an apartment in a good neighborhood and I absolutely can’t wait. If you have suggestions for our trip, email me! N’hésitez pas.