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I'm Mostly Here to Enjoy Myself: One Woman's Pursuit of Pleasure in Paris
When you’re a woman smack in so-called “middle age” you are not promised anything at all other than that everything will get worse. But what if everything you’ve been told is a lie.
Come to Paris, August 2021, when the City of Lights was still empty of tourists, and a thirst for long overdue pleasure gripped those who wandered its streets.
After New York City emptied out in March 2020, Glynnis MacNicol, aged 46, unmarried with no children, spent 16 months alone in her tiny Manhattan apartment. The isolation was punishing. A year without touch. Women are warned of invisibility as they age, but this was an extreme loneliness no one can prepare you for. When the opportunity to sublet a friend’s apartment in Paris arose, MacNicol jumped on it. Leaving felt like less of a risk than a necessity.
What follows is a decadent, unexpected journey into one woman’s pursuit of radical enjoyment.
The weeks in Paris are filled with friendship and food and sex. There is dancing on the Seine; a plethora of gooey cheese; midnight bike rides through empty Paris; handsome men; afternoons wandering through the empty Louvre; nighttime swimming in the ocean off a French island. And yes, plenty of nudity.
In the spirit of Deborah Levy and Annie Ernaux, I’m Mostly Here to Enjoy Myself is an intimate, insightful, powerful, and endlessly pleasurable memoir of an intensely lived experience whose meaning and insight expands far beyond the personal narrative. MacNicol is determined to document the beauty, excess, and triumph of a life that does not require permission.
The pursuit of enjoyment is a political act, both a right and a responsibility. Enjoying yourself—as you are—is not something the world tells you is possible, but it is.
Here’s the proof.
Come to Paris, August 2021, when the City of Lights was still empty of tourists, and a thirst for long overdue pleasure gripped those who wandered its streets.
After New York City emptied out in March 2020, Glynnis MacNicol, aged 46, unmarried with no children, spent 16 months alone in her tiny Manhattan apartment. The isolation was punishing. A year without touch. Women are warned of invisibility as they age, but this was an extreme loneliness no one can prepare you for. When the opportunity to sublet a friend’s apartment in Paris arose, MacNicol jumped on it. Leaving felt like less of a risk than a necessity.
What follows is a decadent, unexpected journey into one woman’s pursuit of radical enjoyment.
The weeks in Paris are filled with friendship and food and sex. There is dancing on the Seine; a plethora of gooey cheese; midnight bike rides through empty Paris; handsome men; afternoons wandering through the empty Louvre; nighttime swimming in the ocean off a French island. And yes, plenty of nudity.
In the spirit of Deborah Levy and Annie Ernaux, I’m Mostly Here to Enjoy Myself is an intimate, insightful, powerful, and endlessly pleasurable memoir of an intensely lived experience whose meaning and insight expands far beyond the personal narrative. MacNicol is determined to document the beauty, excess, and triumph of a life that does not require permission.
The pursuit of enjoyment is a political act, both a right and a responsibility. Enjoying yourself—as you are—is not something the world tells you is possible, but it is.
Here’s the proof.
288 pages, Hardcover
First published June 11, 2024
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 165 reviews
June 18, 2024
I rarely read a book that is precisely what I want it to be, but this memoir definitely was. In the summer of 2021, the author traveled to Paris for, as it says on the tin, pleasure. And my, can she write about pleasure.
Whether describing sex or food or art or friendship or cycling, MacNicol evokes sensation more viscerally than I've read in quite a while. She writes especially poignantly about how rare it is to tell and find these stories about single women in their 40s, as she was when the events of this book took place.
The audiobook was very well narrated by the author. I also definitely want to check out her previous memoir.
Whether describing sex or food or art or friendship or cycling, MacNicol evokes sensation more viscerally than I've read in quite a while. She writes especially poignantly about how rare it is to tell and find these stories about single women in their 40s, as she was when the events of this book took place.
The audiobook was very well narrated by the author. I also definitely want to check out her previous memoir.
Read
July 8, 2024This is a lovely memoir. I enjoyed the perspective of a single, childless 40-something woman who sets out to fully enjoy herself in Paris. The vibe of this book reminds me of Julia Roberts in Eat Pray Love when she is savoring her morning cooking up breakfast, sitting on the floor in her lingerie enjoying her own company slowly. Just radical enjoyment. That being said, a few parts felt a bit repetitive and made me think this might have been even better in another format like a collection of essays surrounded by other realistic female experiences. Overall enjoyable though!
Thank you to Penguin Books : Viking and Netgalley for this advanced reader copy.
Thank you to Penguin Books : Viking and Netgalley for this advanced reader copy.
June 29, 2024
I loved MacNicol’s No One Tells You This, which approached her 40th year as an adventure into the unknown. This second memoir is similarly frank and intrepid as MacNicol examines the unconscious rules that people set for women in their mid-forties and gleefully flouts them, remaining single and childfree and delighting in the freedom that allows her to book a month in Paris on a whim. She knows that she is an anomaly for being “untethered”; “I am ready for anything. To be anyone.”
This takes place in August 2021, when some pandemic restrictions were still in force, and she found the city – a frequent destination for her over the years – drained of locals, who were all en vacances, and largely empty of tourists, too. Although there was still a queue for the Mona Lisa, she otherwise found the Louvre very quiet, and could ride her borrowed bike through the streets without having to look out for cars. She and her single girlfriends met for rosé-soaked brunches and picnics, joined outdoor dance parties and took an island break.
And then there was the sex. MacNicol joined a hook-up app called Fruitz and met all sorts of men. She refused to believe that, just because she was 46 going on 47, she should be invisible or demure. “All the attention feels like pure oxygen. Anything is possible.” Seeing herself through the eyes of an enraptured 27-year-old Italian reminded her that her body was beautiful even if it wasn’t what she remembered from her twenties (“there is, on average, a five-year gap between current me being able to enjoy the me in the photos”). The book’s title is something she wrote while messaging with one of her potential partners.
There are plenty of childless role models but you may have to look a bit harder for them. MacNicol does so by tracking down the Paris haunts of women writers such as Edith Wharton and Colette. She also interrogates this idea of women living a life of pleasure by researching the “odalisque” in 18th- and 19th-century art, as in the François Boucher painting on the cover. This was fun, provocative and thoughtful all at once; well worth seeking out for summer reading and armchair travelling.
Originally published on my blog, Bookish Beck.
This takes place in August 2021, when some pandemic restrictions were still in force, and she found the city – a frequent destination for her over the years – drained of locals, who were all en vacances, and largely empty of tourists, too. Although there was still a queue for the Mona Lisa, she otherwise found the Louvre very quiet, and could ride her borrowed bike through the streets without having to look out for cars. She and her single girlfriends met for rosé-soaked brunches and picnics, joined outdoor dance parties and took an island break.
And then there was the sex. MacNicol joined a hook-up app called Fruitz and met all sorts of men. She refused to believe that, just because she was 46 going on 47, she should be invisible or demure. “All the attention feels like pure oxygen. Anything is possible.” Seeing herself through the eyes of an enraptured 27-year-old Italian reminded her that her body was beautiful even if it wasn’t what she remembered from her twenties (“there is, on average, a five-year gap between current me being able to enjoy the me in the photos”). The book’s title is something she wrote while messaging with one of her potential partners.
There are plenty of childless role models but you may have to look a bit harder for them. MacNicol does so by tracking down the Paris haunts of women writers such as Edith Wharton and Colette. She also interrogates this idea of women living a life of pleasure by researching the “odalisque” in 18th- and 19th-century art, as in the François Boucher painting on the cover. This was fun, provocative and thoughtful all at once; well worth seeking out for summer reading and armchair travelling.
Originally published on my blog, Bookish Beck.
June 23, 2024
Honestly, if you're like me and not going on a holiday this year, but you want to romanticise a place and feel like you ARE on holiday, this book is the perfect thing to read. Also it's the only thing I've read in like, two weeks, so thanks for that Glynnis.
July 4, 2024
This is a quick read that has some really appealing elements to it, and some that don’t appeal at all. Holistically speaking it’s mostly a dating memoir and an updated Eat, Pray, Love of sorts, neither of which holds much appeal for me and both of which feel overdone and unnecessary in the memoir space.
What’s good here is MacNicol’s adventurous spirit, which comes through strongly throughout the book, as well as the more travel-driven content relating to Paris and the surrounding area.
It’s interesting that the author mentions that she was asked when pitching the book to explain what exactly it was trying to say, because that’s pretty much the question I had after I finished it. I suppose MacNicol is mostly saying “I’m free to do what I want and I’m going to indulge that,” which is a great thing to do for oneself.
But while I liked her and am therefore happy for her that she was able to do this, I don’t think it’s an especially worthy subject for a book if the rest of the content doesn’t really prop up the focus on a writer’s personal life philosophy.
The writing is fine, though a little too conversational for my taste, and most of the jokes don’t land, when they’re there at all. I expect I would like MacNicol a lot more as a friend in real life than I do as a memoirist, though I would certainly admire her gutsy decision making either way.
*I received an ARC of this book in exchange for an honest review.*
What’s good here is MacNicol’s adventurous spirit, which comes through strongly throughout the book, as well as the more travel-driven content relating to Paris and the surrounding area.
It’s interesting that the author mentions that she was asked when pitching the book to explain what exactly it was trying to say, because that’s pretty much the question I had after I finished it. I suppose MacNicol is mostly saying “I’m free to do what I want and I’m going to indulge that,” which is a great thing to do for oneself.
But while I liked her and am therefore happy for her that she was able to do this, I don’t think it’s an especially worthy subject for a book if the rest of the content doesn’t really prop up the focus on a writer’s personal life philosophy.
The writing is fine, though a little too conversational for my taste, and most of the jokes don’t land, when they’re there at all. I expect I would like MacNicol a lot more as a friend in real life than I do as a memoirist, though I would certainly admire her gutsy decision making either way.
*I received an ARC of this book in exchange for an honest review.*
March 5, 2024
I really enjoyed this book, Glynnis MacNicol writes beautifully about womanhood and independence. She takes us with her on her summer 2021 trip to Paris - reconnecting with friends, spending time exploring alone, biking through the city, etc. It felt at times like sex and the city (which is often referenced) with a slightly older group of women (not old, mid 40s). I reread several passages that really resonated with me. There were also a lot of historical and artistic references about women that I found really interesting. Definitely recommend grabbing a copy on the pub date 6/11/24.
June 16, 2024
i had higher hopes for this one. it’s basically a coming of age story of a single, childless woman in her mid-40s who went through peak covid in manhattan by herself and how going to paris for a few weeks in summer 2021 helped her move past that isolating time. the story was meandering and mostly mundane. in the end, i’m not sure if the author truly enjoyed herself or found that much pleasure.
2.75 stars.
2.75 stars.
June 27, 2024
I don't particularly enjoy reading about the pandemic ("In the first weeks of March 2020 there was much puzzling over why we didn’t have more stories about the 1918 flu pandemic. But now it seems clear: people want to move on as quickly as possible."), but I very much want to read about single childless women in their forties enjoying themselves. Generally, I love a good memoir, perhaps sprinkled with travel, but what it generally boils down to is reading about different ways of living a life.
Glynnis MacNicol takes you all the way from pandemic New York - empty, lifeless, lonely - to Paris. Opening up, coming back to life, while all Parisians are leaving their homes to go on vacation. And she talks you through what it means to be a woman in this world, one that does not adhere to societal expectations and one that has found a home away from home. One that has found family in her circle of friends that are all used to having their lives under control, down to the minuscule details. It's about pleasure, about enjoying yourself and living life the way you want to.
I loved this, from descriptions of Paris to the occasional art reference, but mostly the freedom and the flipping of the narrative.
"I have veered off the narrow path laid out for women to be successful in the world, and it turns out I’m fine. Sometimes better, sometimes worse, but mostly fine. Which inevitably throws a question mark at the end of her decisions. I mentioned this to Nina once, and she understood immediately: “We’re an attack on the value system of certain people.” As if my, or our, enjoyment undermines the hard work they have devoted to staying the path. And worse, calls into question the rewards that path offers. If I don’t feel bad about my life, how can they feel good? I used to feel the need to launch a rousing defense of myself in the face of this, but that’s gone away. It feels like enough that my life is no longer a question mark to me."
Glynnis MacNicol takes you all the way from pandemic New York - empty, lifeless, lonely - to Paris. Opening up, coming back to life, while all Parisians are leaving their homes to go on vacation. And she talks you through what it means to be a woman in this world, one that does not adhere to societal expectations and one that has found a home away from home. One that has found family in her circle of friends that are all used to having their lives under control, down to the minuscule details. It's about pleasure, about enjoying yourself and living life the way you want to.
I loved this, from descriptions of Paris to the occasional art reference, but mostly the freedom and the flipping of the narrative.
"I have veered off the narrow path laid out for women to be successful in the world, and it turns out I’m fine. Sometimes better, sometimes worse, but mostly fine. Which inevitably throws a question mark at the end of her decisions. I mentioned this to Nina once, and she understood immediately: “We’re an attack on the value system of certain people.” As if my, or our, enjoyment undermines the hard work they have devoted to staying the path. And worse, calls into question the rewards that path offers. If I don’t feel bad about my life, how can they feel good? I used to feel the need to launch a rousing defense of myself in the face of this, but that’s gone away. It feels like enough that my life is no longer a question mark to me."
July 8, 2024
This book is for the worst type of study abroad kids, which I'm sure is partly me, which is why it got an extra star
June 24, 2024
I read a lot of memoirs of ex-pats who move to Europe. I AM one of those ex-pats who moved to Europe so maybe that is why most of these books appeal to me. But then there are some in which the author makes sure to let you know that she is cooler and hipper than you are, or will ever be, because she rents the same apartment every year in Paris. And lives like a local (you don't really, but whatever)! And has real friends who know the best places to go! And won't tell you the name because she doesn't want tourists ruining the place. This book and this author are in this category. I never warmed up to her or her friends. But I gave it an extra point for giving the hint about the Île d'Yeu even though she didn't want to give the name out because "tourists".
June 26, 2024
Blah, blah, blah. So you’ve been to Paris a few times and you’ve hooked up for some raunchy or rough sex? I wanted to like it and I appreciate the soul searching journey it was for her. But I was turned off early on by her superiority attitude and assumptions that anyone who is married or single has a miserable life and can’t experience the joys of independence that she has. Get over yourself.
June 17, 2024
The author describes a month spent in Paris after the pandemic, and manages to get a book deal for her mundane musings. Shrugs …
June 21, 2024
The only thing worse than an asshole who's obsessed with New York is an asshole who's obsessed with Paris.
Also, she came to Canada and hated the iced coffee because it was a sickeningly sweet, light brown slushie. Bitch, you had an Iced Cap from Timmies. That's like complaining about the poutine from McDonald's 🤦♀️🤦♀️🤦♀️🤦♀️🤦♀️
Also, she came to Canada and hated the iced coffee because it was a sickeningly sweet, light brown slushie. Bitch, you had an Iced Cap from Timmies. That's like complaining about the poutine from McDonald's 🤦♀️🤦♀️🤦♀️🤦♀️🤦♀️
April 6, 2024
I wished I was drinking rose and eating a baguette while reading this lovely book about a woman having a lovely time pursuing pleasure (food, leisure, men) in Paris after the isolation of Covid. As a mom of three, I really loved escaping to France with Glynnis and seeing the world through the eyes of a woman who lives a very different life than I do. And how refreshing to read a (short!) memoir about someone who is actually…happy? It’s not what we’re accustomed to in personal narratives, which she aptly points out toward the end of the book, and I found it totally delightful.
June 24, 2024
This book is 80% mundane details about getting to Paris, random stream of consciousness style musings, and maybe 20% actual juicy details about visiting Paris.
This reads like the inside of the average person's head -- there's so much thinking and pondering. Just when we arrive at an actual sensory detail about Paris, here comes a ten page explanation or analysis of the detail.
Completely turned off when MacNichol retches about a young woman she meets who thinks too much regarding just about everything. The girl, half of MacNichol's age, describes herself as a writer and MacNichol has to fight against the urge to tell the girl that MacNichol herself is a REAL DEAL writer. Dear God. MacNichol semi mocks her for over thinking when this entire book is just endless pages of MacNichol's random thoughts?
Meh. Not the fun, loose, edgy memoir that I was hoping for unfortunately.
This reads like the inside of the average person's head -- there's so much thinking and pondering. Just when we arrive at an actual sensory detail about Paris, here comes a ten page explanation or analysis of the detail.
Completely turned off when MacNichol retches about a young woman she meets who thinks too much regarding just about everything. The girl, half of MacNichol's age, describes herself as a writer and MacNichol has to fight against the urge to tell the girl that MacNichol herself is a REAL DEAL writer. Dear God. MacNichol semi mocks her for over thinking when this entire book is just endless pages of MacNichol's random thoughts?
Meh. Not the fun, loose, edgy memoir that I was hoping for unfortunately.
June 20, 2024
More books about women unapologetically seeking and enjoying their own pleasure please.
June 29, 2024
my face hurts from smiling so much through this read! i think i could start over from the beginning right now and read it again with just as much joy
“When Paris ceases to be a silhouette or a mirage and instead becomes a place where people simply go about their days, making their lives; where the Métro herkily jerks along; where some portion of the city always seems to be on strike, and it's not uncommon to get a faint whiff of tear gas when Vélib'ing through Place de la République; where it's impossible to buy Advil in packs of more than ten for less than seven euros, buy nail polish for less than fifteen euros, get a package delivered, or even just find affordable quality sushi; it can be, if not shocking, then surprising, to encounter the Paris of the films. Of the fantasy.
But it does exist. And it's waiting for us now.”
“When Paris ceases to be a silhouette or a mirage and instead becomes a place where people simply go about their days, making their lives; where the Métro herkily jerks along; where some portion of the city always seems to be on strike, and it's not uncommon to get a faint whiff of tear gas when Vélib'ing through Place de la République; where it's impossible to buy Advil in packs of more than ten for less than seven euros, buy nail polish for less than fifteen euros, get a package delivered, or even just find affordable quality sushi; it can be, if not shocking, then surprising, to encounter the Paris of the films. Of the fantasy.
But it does exist. And it's waiting for us now.”
June 19, 2024
Rating: 4.5 Stars
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June 22, 2024Tough one for me to rate.
On the one hand: Good for MacNicol for her pursuit of pleasure, and I enjoyed the descriptions of Paris as well as the discussions about women artists and writers. I listened to the audiobook and enjoyed MacNicol’s narration.
That said, I had two major issues with this book: First, I feel like for most of the book there’s a complete lack of self-awareness of privilege. MacNicol even discusses how privileged a younger woman she meets is for her wealthy parents, without acknowledging that she, too, is privileged for being able to travel to Paris almost every summer for several years in a row. In the last couple of minutes of the book the author rattles off what finally feels like a list of ways in which she is, in fact, privileged to be doing this, but I would’ve liked to get some awareness of that earlier in the book (even if some of that is implicit in reading a memoir about traveling to Paris in pursuit of pleasure).
The bigger issue for me were the discussions of Covid/ the pandemic. I sympathize with the loneliness and isolation MacNicol felt in 2020 and her desire to rejoin her friends. But it sometimes seemed like she thought her inability to travel to Paris and have fun for a summer was the worst part of the pandemic. Comments like “life is for the living” and “stagnancy being a greater risk than illness” really rubbed me the wrong way. MacNicol’s also very flippant about the possibility of testing positive at the end of the book when returning to the U.S. (it’s the price to pay for having fun, etc.). At least MacNicol discussed needing to be vaccinated, the process of getting a vaccine card in France, etc., but as somebody who has lost family to Covid and who recently was very sick with Covid myself, I was honestly just kind of grossed out at how much the seriousness of the pandemic was minimized. Maybe that’s on me for reading a memoir in this vein post-2020.
On the one hand: Good for MacNicol for her pursuit of pleasure, and I enjoyed the descriptions of Paris as well as the discussions about women artists and writers. I listened to the audiobook and enjoyed MacNicol’s narration.
That said, I had two major issues with this book: First, I feel like for most of the book there’s a complete lack of self-awareness of privilege. MacNicol even discusses how privileged a younger woman she meets is for her wealthy parents, without acknowledging that she, too, is privileged for being able to travel to Paris almost every summer for several years in a row. In the last couple of minutes of the book the author rattles off what finally feels like a list of ways in which she is, in fact, privileged to be doing this, but I would’ve liked to get some awareness of that earlier in the book (even if some of that is implicit in reading a memoir about traveling to Paris in pursuit of pleasure).
The bigger issue for me were the discussions of Covid/ the pandemic. I sympathize with the loneliness and isolation MacNicol felt in 2020 and her desire to rejoin her friends. But it sometimes seemed like she thought her inability to travel to Paris and have fun for a summer was the worst part of the pandemic. Comments like “life is for the living” and “stagnancy being a greater risk than illness” really rubbed me the wrong way. MacNicol’s also very flippant about the possibility of testing positive at the end of the book when returning to the U.S. (it’s the price to pay for having fun, etc.). At least MacNicol discussed needing to be vaccinated, the process of getting a vaccine card in France, etc., but as somebody who has lost family to Covid and who recently was very sick with Covid myself, I was honestly just kind of grossed out at how much the seriousness of the pandemic was minimized. Maybe that’s on me for reading a memoir in this vein post-2020.
January 23, 2024
Parts of this book resonated with me so strongly I read them over several times. Other parts (somewhat repetitive descriptions of the Fruitz app encounters) had me saying “just get on with it” out loud. However, it was wonderful to explore Paris with MacNicol . It’s one of those books you have to read and decide for yourself.
July 8, 2024
If you identify as a female in your 40s, this book is for you. If you identify as a female in your 40s and you're also single? This book is definitely for you. If you're in your 30s and single, pick it up anyway - some excellent accounts of a life being LIVED in these pages.
I disagree that this is Eat, Pray, Love. While there may be similarities in that the author is single, of a certain age, and abroad, she's not panicked or confused about her life. Reading this feels like a gift that makes it OK to not want the societal norms and to instead just... enjoy and be.
I disagree that this is Eat, Pray, Love. While there may be similarities in that the author is single, of a certain age, and abroad, she's not panicked or confused about her life. Reading this feels like a gift that makes it OK to not want the societal norms and to instead just... enjoy and be.
June 24, 2024
This wasn’t for me. I wanted this to be a memoir of mid 40s female Main Character Energy. And it…kind of was? But also felt a little heavy handed on some of its agenda items which distracted me.
The writing also felt a bit like a college English essay, so I didn’t quite connect with it as a memoir. You could also make a drinking game every time you heard the word “skin.” (And the term “Skin Hunger?” GAG. Visceral No thank you.)
My last little gripe, and this is my own fault because I knew this going in: I am just not a person who romanticizes Paris AT ALL. So I almost always find books that do to be trite and irritating.
I’m sure there’s an audience for this, it just wasn’t for me. Also, it just wasn’t an instance where the author narrating was a great choice. I wouldn’t recommend on audio.
The writing also felt a bit like a college English essay, so I didn’t quite connect with it as a memoir. You could also make a drinking game every time you heard the word “skin.” (And the term “Skin Hunger?” GAG. Visceral No thank you.)
My last little gripe, and this is my own fault because I knew this going in: I am just not a person who romanticizes Paris AT ALL. So I almost always find books that do to be trite and irritating.
I’m sure there’s an audience for this, it just wasn’t for me. Also, it just wasn’t an instance where the author narrating was a great choice. I wouldn’t recommend on audio.
June 14, 2024
3.5 stars
July 16, 2024
3.5
Less exciting than anticipated, yet still interesting and I liked the voice
Less exciting than anticipated, yet still interesting and I liked the voice
July 3, 2024
My first by the author; did not enjoy.
While the jacket describes that a surprising opportunity led to a Covid-era sublet in Paris, the text itself reveals this “opportunity” was a vacation rental.
The memoir brings the most energy to describing dating app messaging and subsequent hookups, contrasted with the lonely months of a pandemic spent in a Manhattan apartment. I would have appreciated this more if the writer had been a bit more personal; it felt very mechanical and lacked nuance for me.
While I appreciate her message that a woman of 46 may focus on other things than a husband and children, I wish the writer had shown a brighter light on the plethora of opportunities the world offers a woman of her income and education. This dissonance was most distressing in the book’s attempt to shake deeper meaning from her French vacation as she considers the lives of many other independent women (Simone de Beauvoir? Never read her!) and muses superficially that her life has never offered her experiences that caused her deep reflection or growth, flitting from her lack of insight into war, directly to the insight she’s gained from Netflix.
My review feels a little humorless but maybe the most dissonant thing about the book was that while the writer seemed both a fun and funny person, the writing was never funny. It wasn’t observational or wicked or witty, more scholarly and preachy.
Many readers I respect did enjoy this memoir so perhaps its tone and content were just a miss for me as an individual.
While the jacket describes that a surprising opportunity led to a Covid-era sublet in Paris, the text itself reveals this “opportunity” was a vacation rental.
The memoir brings the most energy to describing dating app messaging and subsequent hookups, contrasted with the lonely months of a pandemic spent in a Manhattan apartment. I would have appreciated this more if the writer had been a bit more personal; it felt very mechanical and lacked nuance for me.
While I appreciate her message that a woman of 46 may focus on other things than a husband and children, I wish the writer had shown a brighter light on the plethora of opportunities the world offers a woman of her income and education. This dissonance was most distressing in the book’s attempt to shake deeper meaning from her French vacation as she considers the lives of many other independent women (Simone de Beauvoir? Never read her!) and muses superficially that her life has never offered her experiences that caused her deep reflection or growth, flitting from her lack of insight into war, directly to the insight she’s gained from Netflix.
My review feels a little humorless but maybe the most dissonant thing about the book was that while the writer seemed both a fun and funny person, the writing was never funny. It wasn’t observational or wicked or witty, more scholarly and preachy.
Many readers I respect did enjoy this memoir so perhaps its tone and content were just a miss for me as an individual.
July 6, 2024
This book is sexy, indulgent, escapist, and wildly satisfying! I felt like I was a Parisian and everything about the author’s adventure felt tantalizing and exciting. What a treat to read about her desire for pleasure and unabashed curiosity (and bravery!) for achieving it!
July 11, 2024
1. One of the reviews questioned whether the author actually did enjoy herself, and I have to guess that person either (a) didn’t read the book, or (b) had some feelings about her *own* life stirred up by this book.
2. Though the author never says so explicitly, I like that this book implicitly challenges the adage “wherever you go, there you are.” True, yes, but place can also provide us with a unique way of accessing different parts / versions of ourselves, as this book illustrates.
3. Thought this book was at its strongest when it stuck with the core narrative; skimmed over the learnings by the time we got to the Louvre. Liked the idea! But they didn’t integrate with the central plot as well as I’d have liked, personally.
4. Must channel when I (hopefully) go to Madrid next spring!
2. Though the author never says so explicitly, I like that this book implicitly challenges the adage “wherever you go, there you are.” True, yes, but place can also provide us with a unique way of accessing different parts / versions of ourselves, as this book illustrates.
3. Thought this book was at its strongest when it stuck with the core narrative; skimmed over the learnings by the time we got to the Louvre. Liked the idea! But they didn’t integrate with the central plot as well as I’d have liked, personally.
4. Must channel when I (hopefully) go to Madrid next spring!
July 18, 2024
It's really rare to read about a single woman who isn't looking for a partner. A woman who is complete in herself without kids and a spouse. More books like this, please. More women who possess their own lives wholly or as MacNicol wrote:
"Owning your narrative, to the extent anyone can, is a sort of superpower rarely available to women. A woman freed from shame, a character too terrifying to contemplate for most storytellers."
"Owning your narrative, to the extent anyone can, is a sort of superpower rarely available to women. A woman freed from shame, a character too terrifying to contemplate for most storytellers."
June 19, 2024
thoroughly enjoyable vignette of the profound ecstasy of an unattached life
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June 20, 2024I found this to be quite a pleasure to read. I could feel the wandering, eager, at times languid feeling of a summer in Paris. I loved the authors first memoir and this one was a great companion to that. It’s especially resonate as an unmarried, childless woman as she writes to this experience with nuance and direct experience.
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