If he’d believed in omens, this would have been a sign. Now he reached into the shelf with both hands, grabbed whole parcels of books out of it and piled them up beside him.
He took out the next novel, then two more. Nor did it bite his hand like an affronted cat. He exhaled, groped indiscriminately for a book and pulled Orwell’s 1984 out of the bookcase. Twenty-one years and summers and New Year’s mornings. Behind the shelves lay a room he hadn’t entered for almost twenty-one years. He stared at the bookcase in the corridor. Inward, one fold at a time, up to the elbow. Monsieur Perdu pushed his tie between the top buttons of his white, vigorously ironed shirt and carefully rolled up his sleeves. The bookseller could not imagine what might be more practical than a book, but he promised to give the new tenant a table. “Actually, we were thinking of something more practical.
Absolutely nothing, only shattered illusions. You are cashmere compared with the normal yarn from which men are spun.” “You can hardly blame some people when you look at their wives. The two generals of number 27 Rue Montagnard-Madame Bernard, the owner, and Madame Rosalette, the concierge-had caught Monsieur in a pincer movement between their ground-floor flats. How on earth could I have let them talk me into it? "synopsis" may belong to another edition of this title. Internationally bestselling and filled with warmth and adventure, The Little Paris Bookshop is a love letter to books, meant for anyone who believes in the power of stories to shape people's lives. Joined by a bestselling but blocked author and a lovelorn Italian chef, Perdu travels along the country’s rivers, dispensing his wisdom and his books, showing that the literary world can take the human soul on a journey to heal itself. She left him with only a letter, which he has never opened.Īfter Perdu is finally tempted to read the letter, he hauls anchor and departs on a mission to the south of France, hoping to make peace with his loss and discover the end of the story. The only person he can't seem to heal through literature is himself he's still haunted by heartbreak after his great love disappeared.
Using his intuitive feel for the exact book a reader needs, Perdu mends broken hearts and souls. From his floating bookstore in a barge on the Seine, he prescribes novels for the hardships of life. Monsieur Perdu calls himself a literary apothecary. Monsieur Perdu can prescribe the perfect book for a broken heart.
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