Customer Reviews

A Town Like Paris: Falling in Love in the City of Light

5 star:		(14)
4 star:		(4)
3 star:		(3)
2 star:		(0)
1 star:		(7)

 

 

WHAT INANE DRIVEL.

Corbett's so-called self-deprecating humor is phony, and his constant criticisms of others are offensive. Truly offensive. The book is so full of clichés, it's hard to keep count - Paris is a harlot? - give me a break. I agree with the other reviewer's observation about the "camera-toting Americans" - by his own standard of "coolness," one can only assume the Italians got a good laugh out of this egotistical clown and his camera that he carried to Sicily.

This unbelievable paragraph from his book sums up his penchant for self aggrandizement:

"Stand in a bar in France and tell a Frenchman you are Australian and they almost explode with excitement. Whether borne of simple relief that you are not English or a genuine expression of delight at having met the most extraordinary of the human species, a real live Australian, I could never tell. Either way, it was immensely gratifying."

What an ego! He never misses the opportunity to trash all non-Australian foreigners in order elevate himself to god-like status. I'm surprised he had to cross the Channel in a train - he can't walk on water?

Since writing this book, Mr. Corbett, his wife the Showgirl and their two children, have returned to Australia where she has written (ghostwritten by Corbett) a book called "Memoirs of a Showgirl" (not sure it will ever be available outside Australia). Both maintain shrines to themselves on Twitter and Facebook, and one can only hope that the continent of Oz is big enough to contain their massive egos.

For a truly thoughtful and insightful account Parisian culture read David Lebovitz's book instead The Sweet Life in Paris: Delicious Adventures in the World's Most Glorious - and Perplexing - City.

I was so irritated by the condescending and self-important writing in this book, not to mention its dreadful lack of structure (it is a series of lazy, over-written yet underdeveloped essays) and its endless cliches that I spared myself the trouble of finishing it. It is an exercise in turning a book supposedly about a magical city into a shrine to the author's ego and narcissism. Thoroughly unpleasant reading experience.

Thankfully, I borrowed this book from the library instead of buying it new from Amazon. From the reviews and description I was expecting a fun and interesting story of an Australian expat's life in Paris. Instead, what I found was an annoying memoire of a man who surrounded himself with an ever widening circle of fellow anglo expats and his resulting failure to truly immerse himself in Parisian life. Mr. Corbett proudly tells about the fun, gay neighborhood he chooses for his own, while making sure that we understand that he's keeping his macho Aussie neanderthal street cred by drunkenly carrousing around with other fellow expats (mainly in the expat bars he has managed to discover during his tenure in the City of Light.) I couldn't help but want to get on a plane to Paris so that I could find the author and wack him soundly over the head a few times with his book in the hopes that he might see some sense. In all, Mr. Corbett utterly fails to understand French culture or to truly grasp the native citizens of his adopted city by then end of this book. Really, save your money and skip this waste of time. If you're looking for an interesting and thoughtful read I would either recommend Sarah Turnbull's book "Almost French" or Vanina Marsot's "Foreign Tongue" for better insight into French and Parisian culture and the clashes that come with expat life in Paris.

There were some amusing anecdotes in this book, which reminded me of "A Year in la Merde," but I have to agree as well with some of the criticisms in the negative reviews here. The story is riddled with cliches and no doubt in our identity politics infused culture, anybody who attended university between 1985 and 2010 will find much of the portrayal of types offensive. I thought his utter dismissal of the Rive gauche to be somewhat silly, and his years of barhopping with anglophone expats to be less interesting that a few of his more amusing observations. I did find it pithy and light, generally fun.

The intro on the the back of this book begins: 'At the age of 28, Bryce Corbett was stuck in a dead end job in London..." It will take you at most ten pages to figure out why Mr. Corbett was in such a situation. He is a mouthy, stupid a$$ of the highest order.

He refers to the French as Frenchies, brings up the lack of deodorant again, name-drops Keanu and Scwartzeneggar, while smearing them both. Perhaps the two of them are risable, but noone picks up a book on living in Paris to hear his glib sour-grapes about Schwartzeneggar's meanness and Reeves lack of intellect.

In the lack of intellect department, Bryce excedes him. What a d0uche.

What a sad reminder that anyone can write a book, even a narcissistic Aussie bumpkin trying his best to convince the world he's anything but. Mr. Corbett's spares no disparaging remark against other visitors to Paris (excited Italians or camera-toting Americans) to convince readers that he's some sort of worldly bon vivant. I've stepped in puddles that aren't as shallow as this book or its author.

I've read a couple of books of this ilk (foreigner drawn to Paris). Bryce Corbett's take is among the best. He doesn't take himself too seriously. He's a good observer - he knows both funny and absurd when he sees it. He inflects his tales with a generous humor that transcends borders. He's respectful of the French people and their culture, but also arches his eyebrow towards what he perceives as anachronisms like the 35-hour workweek and the government-subsidized work lunch. Plus, he pithily articulated what I've always wanted to see in print: The _real_ reason French Women Don't Get Fat. Hint: it has less to do with the specious 'three square meals a day' and 'good quality produce' theories promulgated by Mireille Guiliano, and more to do with nervous energy, 'a packet of Marlboro Lights and a couple of Xanax.' As for what's fueling that nervous energy, well, read the book!

Also, take a look at Corbett's video posted on this Amazon page. It's a nice three-and-a-half minute summary of the book. It also captures the author's winning personality.

Found this coming back from Australia, had selected the films I planned to see on the flight and then read A Town Like Paris from cover to cover. Corbett's account of ex-pat life is hilarious, whether or not you know Paris (although anyone who has spent time there will love seeing their experiences so wittily described). Bring on the sequel!

Bryce is hilarious and his book is real piece of expatriate Parisian life. I've been reading other expatriate stories about Paris, and this is the funnier by far.

I am French Parisian living in Sydney and looking to my hometown through his eye was such a refresh. His analysis is entertaining, accurate and witty. Plus, having a showgirl is not something very common for us, Parisian born people ;)

J'ai a-do-ré le livre de Bryce, je lis et relis et le conseille à toutes les personnes qui souhaitent avoir une idée de ce qu'est la vie parisienne à travers les yeux d'un expatrié. Etant moi-même une expatriée, originaire de Paris et vivant actuellement à Sydney, je suis de l'autre côté du miroir et je peux vous assurer que vous retrouverez l'humour et l'enthousiasme typique des australiens. J'ai retrouvé le Paris que je connais avec une écriture tonique, drôle et précise.

I bought this with a great anticipation of reading another book centered around one of my favourite cities in the world. Instead I ended up reading about this guy's rather boring and repetative time in Paris: wake up with hangover, got to job and pretend to work, go out and get drunk in evening (with a sideline of 'try to get Parisian showgirl interested in me'). If Mr Corbett didn't come across as so self-centred and at times, just plain stupid then this might have been a (slightly) better book. A few attempts at humour mostly come across as being insulting to anyone with average intelligence. For a superior read try John Baxter's "Sex and Love in the City of Light" which is genuinely humourous and actually contains references to a life in the city of Paris!