Little brother, another cup of coffee: Parisian artistic cafe

Author: Huang Renda
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2005-05-01
Features: These people are doing the same thing in famous cafes, sitting there drinking coffee, gossiping, and exchanging glances; the friends you want to see are nowhere to be found because they are lost in the crowd. If you are lucky enough to have spent your youth in Paris, it will follow you for life; Paris is a moving feast. — Hemingway I sat in Café de Flore, staring at the white paper on the coffee table. I could feel my fingers twitching; I needed to write. Next, I wanted to write about myself. The rising thought was: What is the meaning of being a woman? — Simone de Beauvoir
What Paris is annoying: its refined and gentle sensory experience, its tendency to call beautiful things pretty and pretty things beautiful. What is appealing: the terrifying loneliness — a silent loneliness that leaves the only remaining soul overflowing with sorrow. — Camus Picasso, Toulouse-Lautrec, Sartre, Hemingway Their footsteps in Paris Paris is one of the few cities in the world that refuses to change. I am delighted to see its stubbornness, for change is not a trait I appreciate. In 1972, influenced by France's "May 68 Revolution," I traveled far to Paris with a group of "angry youth" to pay homage. Even though most of my time was spent studying Marx, Engels, Lenin, and Trotsky, I still faintly tasted the resilience and hardship of Paris.
Yes, we could only taste the invisible Paris then. The tangible Paris was too luxurious for us poor kids. Sitting in a café cost 1.2 francs per cup, while standing at the bar cost 0.7 francs. You had to guess whether we were sitting or standing. In the student-packed Latin Quarter, we often had to prove we were on the "Left Bank" (you know, newcomers to Paris often struggle to distinguish between the Left Bank and the Right Bank), then search for traces of the stones students dug from the roads to resist the riot police. Of course, they were gone. We walked past the bookstore owner who looked a bit like Einstein. Books were something we could never afford — after standing through a round of books, we went back to the bar for coffee, but this time, we could only have a small cup.
But Parisian cafes are truly interesting. It's hard to imagine how Parisians (in this sense, all French people) would live without them. Some say the street lamp posts in Paris are very unique, as if each one hides a small story behind it. I say: Yes, yes, that's a café, Hemingway, Shakespeare's bookstore! I agree, really. My friend Renda arrived in Paris three years later than me, and I'm glad he finally decided to publish these books. Of course, I suggest everyone still explore it in person for a richer experience. If that's the case, Renda's book can serve as a guide!