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Memoirs of Montparnasse (New York Review Books Classics) | 
enlarge | Author: John Glassco Creator: Louis Begley Publisher: NYRB Classics Category: Book
List Price: $14.95 Buy New: $8.51 You Save: $6.44 (43%)
New (25) Used (11) from $5.98
Avg. Customer Rating: 2 reviews Sales Rank: 65555
Media: Paperback Number Of Items: 1 Pages: 296 Shipping Weight (lbs): 0.7 Dimensions (in): 7.9 x 5 x 0.7
ISBN: 1590171845 Dewey Decimal Number: 8185409 EAN: 9781590171844 ASIN: 1590171845
Publication Date: May 29, 2007 Availability: Usually ships in 1-2 business days Shipping: International shipping available Condition: BRAND NEW
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| Editorial Reviews:
Product Description Memoirs of Montparnasse is a delicious book about being young, restless, reckless, and without cares. It is also the best and liveliest of the many chronicles of 1920s Paris and the exploits of the lost generation. In 1928, nineteen-year-old John Glassco escaped Montreal and his overbearing father for the wilder shores of Montparnasse. He remained there until his money ran out and his health collapsed, and he enjoyed every minute of his stay. Remarkable for their candor and humor, Glassco’s memoirs have the daft logic of a wild but utterly absorbing adventure, a tale of desire set free that is only faintly shadowed by sadness at the inevitable passage of time.
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| Customer Reviews:
Memories July 7, 2004 20 out of 20 found this review helpful
John Glassco writes about the Paris arts scene of the 1920s, telling the story of an artist as a young man. It's not always true, but it is always fun, as fiction and autobiography blend to create a good read. Has all the sex, boozing and pathos that was typical of 1920s Paris as its been memorialized in literature, whether that's a good thing or not is for you to decide.
Unintentional Masterpiece July 16, 2000 19 out of 19 found this review helpful
It was 1927; John Glassco was 17 when he left Montreal to go to Paris with the intention of becoming a famous writer. He kept a journal of his life there for the next five years. He was convinced he was a genius who would one day produce a masterpiece. The irony is that the masterpiece turned out to be these memoirs edited and published when he was 59.
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