Anouk Aime Me

Yeah, we saw a celebrity, right in the home furnishing store across the street. Anouk. She aimées me. This gave me the excuse to sing the theme from "Un Homme et Une Femme" for the next three blocks (seemed to be killing a little of Dear Wife's pleasure by the third block, sadly). You know the song,

Dah...

Dah...

Dah...

Da-Da Da-Da DA
(etc.)

I wanted to ask her about working with Démy and Raoul Coutard (one of the three greatest cinematographers of all time), ask her how much of a genius he was. Dear Wife reminded me of Justine, the late George Cukor adaptation of Lawrence Durrell's fantastic book, and that reminded me about the alleged difficulties she had with Cukor, and how the picture suffered for it (but seeing Anna Karina speak English and be so wonderful as Melissa--and bare her breasts--makes the film worthwhile). I would have loved to ask her about that, (the fueds, not Anna Karina's breasts), but she looked crabby, and the point wasn't to bug her, the point was to bask in the cinema-chic that is Paris.

We hope she lives nearby.

My cityscape skills are shabby and sad, but this should give you a taste of the view from the windows of Les Editeurs, a café/restaurant that's rather posh for that genre of eatery, and just what you'd hope for with such a name: a rarefied literary air, an intimate, bustling place for people in the business of writing (and those of us aspiring), with red velvet seats that are nicely broken in, and a decor that's 1950 Royére modern, with lots of dark woods and an extensive selection of books that you are encouraged to pull from the shelf and read. To their credit, Les Editeurs does not just look the look; there are hung throughout the entire two floors of the establishment a series of very fine, large format photo portraits of contemporary authors, with their names printed on cards posted next to their portraits. And not only that, this is not merely a one-time gesture that has been left to hang on the walls for years--these portraits have been completely replaced with a new series of new authors shot by a new photographer not once, but twice in the six months we've been here. Word.