" Two days ago, I saw a girl lose her life in a lemon sundress. . . . . Her skin barely held her bones together. "
Paris - a city that has inspired lovers, models, artists, writers, and intellectuals takes a new form through the eyes of Ray, a city planner - and apparently a pretty shitty one at that. Ray seems bombarded with levels of conflict: first, there's the rain, constantly slipping into the story like a shadow reading over your shoulder; second is his confusing, if not utterly unbelievable, relationship with the mysterious Colette. Thirdly, in the wake of an accidental murder, Ray loses his job because he can't stop stumbling over Chinatown. For all these conflicts, there is no clear resolution, and the character fails miserably at his act of salvation. While some readers may find the story lingers too long in intangibles and lacks a certain concreteness, the turmoil of morality sticks with us as the cold rain soaks the cobblestone streets.
Paris - a city that has inspired lovers, models, artists, writers, and intellectuals takes a new form through the eyes of Ray, a city planner - and apparently a pretty shitty one at that. Ray seems bombarded with levels of conflict: first, there's the rain, constantly slipping into the story like a shadow reading over your shoulder; second is his confusing, if not utterly unbelievable, relationship with the mysterious Colette. Thirdly, in the wake of an accidental murder, Ray loses his job because he can't stop stumbling over Chinatown. For all these conflicts, there is no clear resolution, and the character fails miserably at his act of salvation. While some readers may find the story lingers too long in intangibles and lacks a certain concreteness, the turmoil of morality sticks with us as the cold rain soaks the cobblestone streets.