Hot Days in Paris and "Have you any good books to read?”
From the desk of the artist Alana Clohessy, in a small corner of Paris on the Left Bank of the Seine.
Saturday 20th July 2024, 31°C (87.8°F) and Scorching.
Tea of the Moment: Too hot for tea, replaced with San Pellegrino Sparkling Water, will have tea when the sun goes down.
The heat has returned to Paris. Late night strolls along the Seine have commenced but in a terrible turn of fate, I am devoid of flowy dresses. In my eagerness to wear my summer whites, I threw them all into my new washing machine (the previous one went on fire, who knows how or why, it was only three years old - sick of it like the rest of us I suppose) and turned it on for an intensive wash. I did not realise the implications or the ferocity of this washing machine as when I took my dresses out they were like tissue paper. Cleaned to within an inch of their lives and gleaming white but with the integrity of cobwebs. I wore one the other day and when I sat down the arse ripped, so there you have it. If anyone has seen any nice flowy dresses please let me know!
I am rereading The Wind in the Willows. My grandmother bought me this book when I was five. At first it was read to me at bedtime, then as I got older I read it myself. I feel it has shaped my aesthetic ever since. My art today still harks back to The Wind in the Willows, perhaps slightly darker but still anthropomorphised animals hanging out together. My grandmother has not been well lately, one day last year when I was chatting to her she said she would love to read the Wind in the Willows again as she herself was bought it as a child. She said she remembers running home from school and reading it while sitting on her grandmother’s deep windowsill, transported to another world. I was heading home to Ireland to see her, so I went to Shakespeare and Co, a famous English bookstore here in Paris - one of my favourite places - and got her a hardback copy. She has since finished reading it and insisted I take the copy of the book back for myself to keep.
How many people have helped shape our lives? My grandmother always bought me books as a child. Books that have stayed with me - Winnie the Pooh, The Brothers Grimm Fairy Tales, The Wizard of Oz - to name but a few. When I was very young she would make up stories to tell me at bedtime when I would stay with her. As I grew up, the women in my family would exchange books for each of us to read. It was an ever revolving rotation of great stories, then we would all chat about it when we were finished. One had to be careful to let the others know how far you have read in the book as invariably someone would let slip the ending of a rattling yarn, ruining all suspense, e.g. “Have you gotten to the part where the daughter dies yet?. You get the point. Anyway, when I moved country it was one of first things that really hit me as a loss. I suddenly found myself wandering around bookshops on my own without a clue of what to get, with no one to chat with once I had read the book. Like everything it becomes normal after a while but I will always miss it.
My mother has a Kindle now so I can no longer swap physical books with her even if I was in the same country. I have never gotten into a Kindle or electronic type reader. I love going to a book store, drawn to a cover and reading the back blurb. Returning home and placing it on my bedside table for me to pick up every night. The smell and feel of the paper cannot be replaced. Yes my apartment is full of books and I have had to get creative with where I keep them. I try and make them part of the decor. Once finished, books I really love become like friends, all the others become beloved acquaintances. It is very, very rare that I reread a book but I will put them into the hands of people that I know will love them - the only caveat is I get my book back when they are finished, to be placed once more under a flowerpot or lamp, to be given to someone else when needed. My dream one day, is to have a room in my home dedicated to only books. A home library, where I sit when it rains, surrounded by shelves of stories, candles and incense, and immerse myself in words. This dream is why all borrowed books must be returned.
My grandmother now lives with my parents in my childhood home. I was back in Ireland recently, we were all sitting around the kitchen table having a cup of tea and toast before bed and my granny turned to me and asked, “Have you any good books to read?”. The following day my sister called out to see me. She had brought books that she had loved, for me to read while I was at home.
As it turns out, there are some things, in this case old book habits, that you can always go back to.
Au revoir - until we meet again,
Alana x
P.S. Do you have any good books to read?