There’s been a slew of interest in all-things 1920s Paris recently. Not sure how these things happen. A few months ago, without any obvious reason, we had a surge of interest in Wendell Berry novels.
But all of a sudden, flappers and artsy cocktail parties and Parisian salons are all the rage. Woody Allen’s Midnight in Paris hit the big screen. And The Paris Wife by Paula McClain has been tearing up bestseller lists.
I liked Paris Wife. I didn’t love it like Nancy Horan’s Loving Frank. But I’m certain that’s due to the books’ female protaganists. We loved to hate Wright’s mistress Mamah. Her actions at once made me hate her and sympathize with her. Hemingway’s wife Hadley is the everywoman. She is most of us– the average American woman that somehow got caught up with an extraordinary genius. And that makes her not nearly as intriguing as Mamah.
Nonetheless, The Paris Wife was a fun read and rekindled an interest in Hemingway, gave me more context to understand The Sun Also Rises and The Moveable Feast. And those are must-reads. Now I must. -Katie



















Scott and Reece and I took a roadtrip to Branson, MO recently for a good friend’s wedding. The drudgery of keeping a 10-month old entertained for a 15-hour roadtrip prompted us to drive through the night. Luckily, we had the CD of Hillenbrand’s Unbroken.
