I loved reading Paris Peasant.
It was everything it was described as: “a-novel-that-was-not-a-novel”, a character study, a portrait, part-fiction, part-treatise, part-memoir. I did wonder beforehand how a novel could encompass all of these things and still be balanced and enjoyable, yet it did all these things and more. For a few moments during my reading, I had felt like I was a nameless Parisian, floating in the arcades, being one of the lively, mysterious passers-by that Aragon had written about.
Though I did not understand all the names or concepts Aragon alluded to so casually, I was quite comfortable in my not-understanding. In fact, I believe my not-understanding of some parts made the parts that I did understand, so much more fulfilling.
Each sentence is filled with it’s own inventive world; so much so, that my memory collides and I can no longer recall the words previous of the sentence I was currently reading. It was almost as if I could only read what I read in the moment. This is not as to say Aragon’s words leak out of my brain as soon as they arrive, but rather that the pure prose of each line overwhelmed my senses. To be honest, I was completely content with not quite understanding and simply enjoying the beauty of the prose – as I felt it would be a disservice to read along and be preoccupied with something previous.
By far, my favourite two parts of the book, the first being Aragon’s mention of Spring in the beginning, the second being the concept of ‘blond’.
“I had just reached this point in my thoughts when, without any warning, Spring suddenly entered the world.”
It feels extremely fitting that Spring comes suddenly, and that Aragon did not battle with powers beyond his control, but rather embraced them. It adds this profound feeling of impromptu genuineness – a surrendering to nature’s time.
“How blond is the sound of rain, how blond is the song of mirrors!”
There’s something that simply struck me while reading this part of the book. Not is it simply that its beautifully written prose, nor is it the gorgeous complexity of drawing unrealistic comparisons of concepts to the tangible – but that this excerpt is rather romantic. Oddly enough, romance (in it’s least physical form), was the last thing I expected from a surrealist novel. Did you encounter anything that surprised you in the book? In hindsight, I should’ve expected at least a bit of ‘romanticism’, after all, this is a book written in and about Paris, written by a French man, and required of me to read in a course called “Romantic Studies”. Nonetheless, it remains my favourite part of the book.
3 replies on “blog#3 – Paris Peasant: Blonde Spring”
“Aragon did not battle with powers beyond his control, but rather embraced them.”
Yes. If this book had a slogan, this could be it!
I loved (and was surprised) that you were content with your “not-understanding”, as I assumed most people (including myself) were dissatisfied with their confusion. After reading the book and reflecting, I came to the conclusion that it was okay to be confused, and I feel you touch on this feeling perfectly. I also loved the part about Spring and “blond” and was also one of the parts of the book that I actually enjoyed.
I like how you mentioned being okay with not fully knowing all the terms involving Paris, how you didn’t let it bother you. At first, I found it difficult to get through sentences or paragraphs that would have some obscure French reference that I didn’t understand, as I felt it interrupted my absorption of the literature.