Customer Reviews

Black Girl in Paris

5 star:		(17)
4 star:		(5)
3 star:		(3)
2 star:		(2)
1 star:		(10)

 

 

For readers more comfortable with "microwave literature", that method of storytelling which gives quick and compact packets feelings and reactions, Shay Youngblood's "Black Girl in Paris" will frustrate and confuse. For the rest of us, the novel is a tender, poignant, story filled with beautiful images of a young woman's experience. Youngblood's writing style lingers on the palate and invites the reader to roll the story around on the tongue and savor each word. Moved as I was by Youngblood's first novel, "Soul Kiss", I anxiously awaited her second attempt and she does not disappoint. From the first sentence to the last, I was swept up in Eden's experiences in Paris and the awakening of her own artistic presence.

"Black Girl in Paris" is a beautiful novel by a gifted writer with a unique talent. Youngblood is able to tell a story, convey her message and leave room for the reader's own experience. All of which make for a truly engaging read and an appreciation for a writer that does not consider her audience too inept to "get it".

I wanted to like this book, really I did, but it was just too circuitous. Not only that, I never really got a feel for the protoganist. We know that Eden is an orphan and an aspiring writer. We see that she really admires James Baldwin to the point that she seems to want to recreate his experience, but what of Eden the young woman? She just seems confused to me -- about life, her sexuality and whether she really wants to or can be a writer. We see more of Eden working her odd jobs than writing. One of the more offensive scenes occurs when she's working as a poet's helper and is giving her disabled client a bath. What was the point of us learning that Eden allowed the old lady to get her rocks off while she washed between her legs? How did that advance the story?

Too much of this story seems cliche. Eden is a struggling artist trying to eke out a living in Paris surrounded by a cast of nationalists, philosphopers and debauchees. Parts of the novel are interesting, particularly the portions dealing with the constant threat of terrorism and the resulting xenophobia, but there was too much that was just silly and unrealistic. Eden conveniently manages to befriend people who can put her up and feed her when she's broke. First it's a young french woman she meets on the plane, then it's an old (and similarly broke) ex patriate who lives off friends and strangers, then a odd bajan woman with whom Eden falls in love.

I was determined to finish this book because I kept hoping that it would get eventually get better. It didn't, and I doubt that I'll try this author again. I'm no fan of the "Waiting to Exhale" genre, but at least those stories tend to have a plot and a sequence of events that you can follow. And those lists -- 7 rules for living, How to be a Poet's Helper etc., were really tiresome.

I truly enjoyed this book. But woe betide an author who dares to tread on the sacred ground of the Black Expatriate Experience in Paris! How dare she see the same sights and drink at the same cafes in your search for her own experience. The nay-sayers who have phoned in their caustic remarks about this lovely book have completely missed the point. This is not about Baldwin or Wright. They came before. Eden came after. This book addresses the strange relationship one can have to a Black History lived by someone else somewhere else. A strange relationship to your own dreams when those dreams are filtered through the experience of others. Eden comes to appreciate and understand her unique relationship to Paris partly as a result of seeking out what was cliche about it, what was presented to her as "the real Paris" and finding out how little that meant. The impression I got from Eden at the books close is radically different than the expectations she had at its beginning. Anyhow. Decide for yourself. I'm eager to see more work from this talented writer, who dares to stray off the beaten path where "Sista gurl" writers and the Negro Intellectual Elite walk their tired talk.

After reading the last reviewer's statement I cruised the Net until I found what she was talking about. Some books review themselves and these hilarious quotes from Black Girl in Paris pretty much sum up why it's getting dissed: "He was friendly with everyone and made the sound of a large animal welcoming home his mate whenever he greeted someone he knew." "The French girl watched the poet's body shake and convulse like she was watching a boring movie." "His old-fashioned black framed glasses accented wide eyes that popped from his head like light bulbs." "Reality was a hammer falling on my head." "I wondered what my mother would think of her little girl if she saw me stretched out naked, mauled by the eyes of a naked hairy beast." "She shouts through the door, her breath fogging the glass momentarily making her look like a monster."

These are just some of the really funny Black Girl quotes circulating. Just to be sure, I checked them against the book - they are real! I know Shay can do better. I'll just wait for her next book.

void of plot but crammed with the same old tired, worn out cliches about Paris and black folk in Paris (who are all wise poets, gifted expat writers or cool jazz musicians), all punctuated by embarrassingly bad imagery, annoying "how to" lists and idiotic recipes. the worse thing is that i haven't been to Paris and really wanted to see what it was like. will someone please write a good book about the black American experience in Paris!

This short novel by Shay Youngblood, is told in the first person. It is a story of a young black woman, who, at 26, decides to go to Paris to become a writer. She's enamored with the stories of other successful black writers who have done this, such as James Baldwin and Langston Hughes, and wants to follow in their footsteps. It's 1986, and there are random bombings in Paris because of the Algeria situation but this never comes across either as a reality or as a metaphor. What does come across is her loneliness as she encounters one misadventure after another. She's penniless, but gets jobs as an au pair, an artist's model and a caregiver of an elderly lady. Along the way she meets some interesting people and even has a love affair or two. She is always aware of prejudice and the realities of living on her own.

I found the book a pleasant read but there is not much focus to it. The plot follows her adventures or misadventures and the characters come and go. It rambled too much for my taste and, and even though I learned a bit about her experience as an expatriate, I found the story too one-dimensional and soon got bored.

This book by Shay Youngblood has got me doing a little daydreaming. I actually read it while I was on a business flight to Paris, and by the time I reached, I found myself looking for places that the author so vividly described. Not that I was using the book as a pseudo map, but I was also nibbling on her savory, poetic words. I especially enjoyed the fact that the narrator's experiences were so unpredictable yet so entertaining. I anticipated what the next sentence, paragraph and chapter held . Besides my enthusiasm with this novel, I was totally disturbed at the thought of an old, sickly woman getting off in a bath tub as the narrator washed and stroked her area. I outed my incense right then and there. It would've been more erotic if it had been a younger person---say that bajan girl that she fell inlove with. I think the lesbian attraction between the narrator and her bajan friend should've been more pronounced. I liked the steamy bath house scene, but by the time things seem to be getting a little too hot, it cooled off, leaving me hanging like how a delayed orgasm would. Nevertheless, it was subtle and very sensuous. Overall, I'm quite impressed with Youngblood's talent. I'm truely looking forward to her next book.

I thought Eden's story was very real, told in a detailed yet self-focused way about her search for connection with great African American expat artists of the past.

My adventures were way more college oriented and I was never worried about my next franc, the way Shay Youngblood's Eden was. Yet I had similar experiences - all the strange Caucasian expats, the horrible treatment of the African male students and workers by the French. Like Eden, I sometimes witnessed the French admiration for Black writers and artists coupled with their often patronising and condescending attitudes toward ordinary Black people. I thought Shay Youngblood captured rather well the gradual disillusionment with the romantic fantasy of a young American writer.

Firstly, the title of the book can lead an unfamiliar reader to assume that there are no black people in Paris. As a Haitian-American woman who has lived in Paris for over four years, Ms. Youngblood's premise and experience in Paris are superfacial at best. France has its own painful history of slavery and colonialism which has engendered a significant community of French nationals of African and Caribbean descent. The author's premise completely dishonors the memory and presence of Black Frenchman.

Secondly, Ms. Youngblood adventure in Paris would be the intellectual equivalent of a foreigner moving to Harlem in order to become a prolific writer. Movements and periods of great inspiration are dynamic; they do not wait and dawdle in designated areas. Moving to Paris in order to channel the creativity of yesterday is naive and does not lend itself to the true spirit of art.

I enthusiastically suggest that Ms. Youngblood return to Paris and visit Chateau d'Eau or Chateau Rouge in order to meet some of the authentic black girls already living in Paris.

Jenna Chrisphonte

I must say that this book is embarrassingly bad, embarrassing because Youngblood's first novel was pretty good. We as black people are all too eager to suspend critical judgment and cheer on anything that is black-produced. The two previous reviews have to be kidding - silly similes and flatfooted metaphors crowd this book, along with no comprehensible story line. It is no wonder that a list of some of the worst lines from this book is circulating on the web (and IT is very funny). As someone who lived in Paris for ten years, I can tell you all that there is nothing real about the descriptions of the city or its people. I hate to be so harsh, and my words are directed towards the book and not its author, but really folks, let's respect black writing enough to praise that which is truly praiseworthy and condemn that which stinks. Sorry, but Black Girl in Paris stinks.