January 22

The day started out slowly as we have lots to do later on. After the usual morning activity in the apartment and George’s usual trip to our Saturday ‘marché’ (outdoor market) we headed for the metro. Guess where George was going? Yes! BHV. For what? For clear plastic to seal our long French style window. I’m headed to a writer’s workshop.

Metro #10 to the Cluny-Sorbonne stop. Again, the train was packed and again, we were surprised. It had to be that people are going shopping given the huge sales which I’ve mentioned a few time already. Usually, even when a train or a restaurant is crowded, people keep their voices low. On more than one occasion  with an American friend we’ve had to caution them to ‘lower your voice.’ It isn’t that the French don’t talk as much as Americans do; they just talk more softly usually! Today, the metro was like a beehive! OH MY! Buzzing away at quite a high decibel. One young couple didn’t notice, too busy in each other’s arms enjoying their moment despite the onlookers. There were groups of women headed for the bargains I assume, and others alone or with a friend. Everyone, except the young couple was talking with animation and even laughing. It was wonderful!

I left George to go on to the next stop making my way down Rue de Danté (yes, found the symbols to allow for accents!) to just behind the Eglise Saint Julien-de-Pauvre. (one of the oldest churches, if not the oldest, and with what is purported to be the oldest tree in Paris in its courtyard.) We’ve been to concerts in this wonderful little church with lots of history. Google it, if you don’t know it. Situated opposite the Cathedral de Notre Dame, it is a lovely spot to sit and enjoy just being there. But no time — now I was hunting for Shakespeare & Company, the bookstore where my workshop is being held. I’ve passed it at other times,  but can’t quite remember exactly where it is.  The address is clearn, but the ‘rue’ stops and starts up again — I’m looking1 One turn around the block and I’ve found it.

I’m not going to write about the history of Shakespeare and Co. except to say the original bookshop with that name was started right after WWI by an American woman with $3000 U.S. — quite a lot of money I would supposed at that time. She managed to keep it going, a place for new writers to be discovered and old writers to find continued support. The shop carried only  books in English  for sale and to borrow. Her name was Sylvia Beach.   In the beginning, her source of books was mainly from a friend who owned a bookshop in Britain, but later she developed other sources as well as publishing books herself.  The shop was closed in 1941 as she was interred briefly and nearly bankrupt during the Nazi occupation. In the early 1960s, George Whitman opened a new bookshop, in a different location, still on the Left Bank, and in Sylvia’s honor named it Shakespeare & Co.

Making my way through and around piles and piles of books stacked on top of each other on the floor, and again higher on the towering book shelves, I found stairs at the rear of the shop leading to the 2nd floor where the workshop was going to be held. I should mention that not only were the books an obstacle course, but so too the shop’s customers and those sitting around reading — all seemingly placed as haphazard  as the books oblivious to anyone trying to pass through. The wooden stairs leading to the second floor were old – very old. But, they held me along with others, in both direction.  The second floor had yet more small rooms of piled high with even more books. The room where the workshops are held was easy to find, the area was so small.  Charming, lined as well with books and with chairs and benches in a circle, it  looks out to Notre Dame and the river Seine.  The bookstalls (or more correctly ‘les bouquinstes’ in French) which famously line the road along the river added to the setting — not lost on our workshop leader who later commented on them.

Susan Tiberghien, the author and leader of the workshop, was already there and soon the room filled with about 16-18 aspiring writers eager to learn. The workshop was on memory and memoires. One man, the rest women, I quickly learned were not all beginners.  Many were published authors, not just aspiring ones. However, everyone had come for help, inspiration, and direction.   I don’t think anyone was disappointed.  Unfortunately, we didn’t get to share our stories, as I would have liked to heard them and to have heard what others wrote during the course of the workshop. I think there were too many of us for that, though we had three hours.
It seemed I was the newest to Paris, as some of the women here had been living and working in Paris for many years.

In the middle of the workshop I had a Eureka moment to my great delight. In fact, I almost had to get up and leave as the urge to write was so great. What was it? Something Susan explained, the ‘how to organize’ your personal memoire. I realized that I’d already written most of the stories and could easily write more now to flesh it all out because I had the theme, or as Susan put it, ‘the window’ through which to write them, how to ‘frame’ the writing. I won’t spill the beans now (sorry for the trite metaphor)

After three hours, we parted but not before making a list of names with email addresses. We’ve already been in touch as I write this and hope to continue, though Susan returns to Geneva where she lives. We’ll form the group and a leader will emerge.

I needed time to relax and think so walking home seemed better than fighting the crowds on the metro. It is a long walk through crowded areas, though despite the cold and the drizzle, people were everywhere – including many tourists camera in hand.

Home — George was back and had spent time painting. We rested a bit and then headed to our good friends, Mike, Janice, and Sarah’s apartment in the 15th. We knew dinner would be great as Mike is an excellent chef — three onion risotto and eggplant parmesan. We weren’t disappointed (again!)  We had a another evening of great conversation, laughs and catching up with what’s happening. And — we enjoyed some music as both Sarah and Janice play . Both are taking piano lessons here, in addition to working and going to school.

Getting home was easy — Metro #6 from Trocadero to Sèvres le Courbe. (I think I’ve spelled it correctly).

To bed!
(I added photos but they didn’t post)