Every summer I treat myself and re-read an Inspector Maigret novel by Georges Simenon. Ok, they're dated but also timeless, short tomes and full of pipe-smoking and a Paris mostly gone. They're character-driven, not so concerned with plot, but the character I love as much as Jules and Madame Maigret is
Paris.
There still is one pissoir left, of the hundreds that used to be on the corners and the smell that you got a block away, on the boulevard in front of La Sante prison.
But this weekend I had some fun bling time talking about gritty Paris and the darker side of the city of light at the Beverly Hills Library.
Here's Jimmy Stewart's war memorabilia
Here Denise Hamilton and I speak with Judith a book maven on Beverly Hills cable!
More to come
Cara - Tuesday
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Cara, on my daughter's first trip with us to Paris, my husband started to excuse himself by saying he was going to pissoir. She and I in an attempt to be slightly less gross would say, "Je droit faire pipi." We still use these terms en famille. But never before have I seen the word "pissoir" in print. Thanks for the memory jog.
ReplyDeleteYou're welcome Annamaria, anything to help :)
ReplyDeleteI've got a photo - it's become quite a landmark - and will try to post
I've been trying to figure out the link here to a mystery site and then it hit me: pissoir--leak--leek-poireau--Poirot. A devilishly ingenious blog, Cara.
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