Jean Rhys in Paris

From my attic bookshelves…

Jean Rhys (1890-1979) wrote about life in 1920s Paris in a rather dismal way in two of her novels: Quartet and After Leaving Mr. MacKenzie. A long time ago, I read these books, and they've been sitting on my attic bookshelves for decades! I have also ordered a copy of Rhys's book Good Morning, Midnight because rereading these two books has made me want to read more. Her later book, Wide Sargasso Sea, is also on my shelf, but it's about another time and place.

The action in the books takes place at the same time and on the same streets and neighborhoods as the exciting and Bohemian life of the famous creative artists and writers of the early 20th century: Hemingway, Picasso, Gertrude Stein, and so on. Rhys mentions the streets and famous cafés around Montparnasse, the quays along the Seine near the Latin Quarter, and the bookstalls along the river. She describes several seedy and poorly-heated hotels and rooming houses -- even one where the landlady is too cheap to install electric light! Lace curtains on small windows in hot airless hotel rooms mentioned in the books all evoke my memories of long-ago Paris hotel stays.

The biographies and legends of the enduringly famous creators who lived there have made 1920s Paris familiar. However, no character in Rhys's books is at all creative or connected to the creative worlds of Paris, though they may be vaguely aware of it. At the center of each book is a sad and damaged woman, living a not-very-respectable life, with no artistic contacts or accomplishments. Both books develop a psychological portrait of an unmoored, undisciplined, often bored, not-very-introspective, and easily dependent person. Both novels portray the drift from one man to another, as the women become more and more unable to cope with life. Although intensely aware of the disapproval of other people, neither of these characters can manage to establish a better way to lead her life — or even to imagine such a life. Somehow, Rhys makes these lost women highly interesting to read about.

Marya, in Quartet, is an English woman who has lived in various countries throughout her adult life, always on the margins. At the beginning of the book her husband is sent to prison, leaving her adrift and without any money. She connects with a couple, the Heidlers, who take her in and more or less coerce her into an affair with the man, while Lois, the wife, more or less watches them. All three crave excitement:

Marie Laurencin: "Three Young Girls in Dance."

"Lois said in a high, excited voice that she was bored to death with Montparnasse. 

"'I'm bored, bored, bored! Look here. Let's go to a music-hall, .... Something canaille, what?' 

* 

"Two naked girls were dancing before a background of blue and mauve which was like a picture by Marie Laurencin." (Quartet, p. 85-86)

Paris today still has much in common with the Paris of the two novels, though availability of very cheap places to live disappeared quite a long time ago. At the beginning of After Leaving Mr. MacKenzie, the main character, Julia Martin, another Englishwoman, lives in a very cheap hotel on the Quai des Grands Augustins. The hotel card listed the amenities of central heating, running water, and rooms rented by the day or by the month. Julia's room was surprisingly clean, and had wallpaper depicting a bird and a lizard. The bed was comfortable, and the chambermaid would bring coffee and a croissant each morning for breakfast. Julia spent much of her time in her room, but went out for meals around the corner on the Boulevard Saint Michel and other locations in the Latin Quarter. 

Many years ago on my first visit to Paris, I stayed in a very very cheap room in the same location on the quay -- a tiny, poorly-furnished hotel room with a shared toilet. The book definitely brings back memories! Paris changes slowly, but I suspect by now the hotels in that area have been upgraded quite a lot. At the website hotels.com today, I see a nearby hotel for $147 per night, which still seems pretty cheap. The web photos of the accomodations look beautiful; of course there is a full en-suite bathroom for each room. 

Another hotel, in Quartet, was described along with Paris weather:

"August was a hot, oppressive month, the sun beating down on sleepy streets, the cafés and restaurants nearly empty, the staircase and passages of the Hôtel du Bosphore and its fellows pervaded by an extraordinary mixture of smells. Drains, face powder, scent, garlic, drains. Above all, drains." (Quartet, p. 127)

Reading these books about Paris, I experienced a feeling of strange juxtaposition between things that have stayed the same and things that have changed. Songs the characters play for dancing include "Yes, We Have No Bananas" and "If You Knew Susie" -- that is, the songs of the twenties. In a country town, the characters get a ride from the train station to their hotel in a horse-drawn cab. But so much of the atmosphere is totally familiar, like images in a dream: even the disapproving hotel maids and supercilious waiters; even the smell of drains. Sometimes while reading I wondered momentarily if the details were anachronistic -- but that's impossible, because the books were written at the time, not recently. And because Jean Rhys's biography includes Paris experiences very much like the story of her characters.

Do you want to read about romantic Paris adventures in a beautiful, welcoming city? Do you want to read about unexpectedly great meals in amazing little bistros? Do you love to learn of likable and idealistic characters succeeding despite some not-too-terrible obstacles? If that's what you want, don't read these books!

Finally, I want to thank Nadia, the blogger at "A Bookish Way of Life," for reminding me about the work of Jean Rhys, and thank Tamara of "Thyme for Tea" for hosting the blog event Paris in July. 

Blog post © 2021 mae sander.