Little two. One more cup of coffee

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 wherever you go; 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 about: Its exquisite senses, gentleness, tendency to call beautiful things pretty, and to call pretty things beautiful. What is appealing about it: The terrifying loneliness — a silent loneliness that leaves the remaining soul overflowing with sorrow.
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; change is not a trait I enjoy seeing. In 1972, influenced by France's "May 68 Revolution," I traveled to Paris with a group of "angry young men" to pay homage. Even though most of my time was spent studying Marx, Engels, Lenin, and Trotsky, I still faintly tasted the vicissitudes and stubbornness of Paris.
Yes, we could only taste the intangible Paris at that time. The tangible Paris was too luxurious for us poor kids. Sitting down at a café cost 1.2 francs per cup, while standing at the bar cost 0.7 francs. Do you have to guess whether we were sitting or standing? In the student-packed Latin Quarter, we often had to assert that we were on the "Left Bank" (you know, newcomers to Paris often struggle to distinguish between the Left Bank and the Right Bank), then searching for traces of the stones that students had 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, only in small cups.
However, Parisian cafes are truly fascinating. 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 distinctive, as if each one hides a small story behind it. I say: Yes, yes, that's a café, Hemingway, Shakespeare's bookshop! I agree, really. My friend Renda arrived in Paris three years later than I did. I'm glad he finally decided to publish these books; of course, I suggest that everyone visit in person for a richer experience. If that's the case, then Renda's book can serve as a guide!