What do readers think of Paris in Love by Eloisa James? Write your own review.

I must have enjoyed Peter Mayle's books about Provence too much, as I was expecting this would be about Paris in a similar way. It is not. I enjoyed the first few pages of the book but as it went on it became very boring. The little snippets of information became annoying to read, and there was too much about the author's children and was of little interest to me, although I can understand a mother's desire to write about her children.

A book written about Paris deserves more than tweets and facebook updates with the occasional essay thrown in. Eliosa James had some lovely descriptions of her experience in Paris but the format for the book was unsatisfying. It was hard to feel connected to her as she jumped from what she saw from her apartment window, to the exploits of her daughter in school, and then to a cooking experience or shopping trip. The part I liked the most were the essays. Read those and skip the rest.

Yes, you will choke with laughter. I have read lots of wonderful fiction by Eloisa James, but her skill at non-fiction is even better. This book is hilarious. It consists of snippets of events that occurred during a year in Paris. Reading each snippet is like repeatedly picking up small pieces of candy and every time you get something different but delicious. Deliciously funny in this case. I found myself laughing out loud at James's wit, at her ability to find and see the humor in the smallest of interactions with her family, especially her children, and with Paris itself. This is a book I will read and enjoy again, and it is a book I will give only to my best friends, those who value and thrive on laughter.

When I requested First Impressions to review this book, I didn't know what to expect. I've been to Paris several times and thought it would be fun to see how Eloisa James and her family see the famous city. Her descriptions of the the food that was served in the out of the way restaurants almost made you taste it. Her children's school experiences were what you could image how they must feel. I would highly recommend this book.

I began my advance copy of Paris in Love with great anticipation—looking forward to the author’s discovery of my own favorite Parisian bookstores and literary haunts, expecting a slightly more feminine version of Adam Gopnik’s charming Paris to the Moon. But my high hopes foundered when confronted with Eloisa James’ off-putting and fragmented blog-like format, and I put the book away.

Several weeks later with jaw-clenched determination, I began again only to learn that persistence does have its rewards. As I grew comfortable with the James’ posts, the once fragmented pieces began to take shape in the context of the whole, like photographs that tell a complete story when seen in an album, and I began falling in love with Paris in Love.

This is the strength of Paris in Love: the portraits that emerge from its pages. The homeless man who lives with his dog at the Metro stop; the love-sick Frenchman learning the art of courtship from James’ Italian-American husband; the author’s children, indomitable and dramatic Anna and the latent scholar, Luca, who must find their way in an unwelcoming new school; the Italian mother-in-law who dotes on her obese Chihuahua; and best of all the cancer-surviving, romance-writing author who delights in French food and cooking, is wise in her parenting, and rediscovers how to love herself from a Parisian fondness for frilly lingerie.

While I do not share Eloisa James’ interest in haut couture and would have preferred she spent more time in bookstores and less in fashion houses, Paris in Love has found a permanent home in my bookcase next to Gopnik’s more erudite memoir.

I was very disappointed in the book which turned out to be a series of blogs about the year the author spent in Paris with her husband and two children. The author does write well, the descriptions are colorful and she has a sense of humor, but there is no connecting narrative.

Reading it was like reading a facebook description of a vacation. The book does contains a handful of narrative chapters that are much more interesting and show more thought than the blog entries. There is one chapter about the death of a friend I found quite moving. The author writes a lot about her children, ages 15 and 11, and while some of those relate to attending school in a foreign country, most would be the reactions of teenagers anywhere.

I found these blog entries to be very superficial, the writer doesn't seem to be interested in understanding the country she's living in or it's people. Even after a year, she can't communicate fluently in the language. Throughout the book, her major concern seems to be food, fashion and her "bad hair year".

I read every book I can find on living and traveling in Paris - and this is the most unsatisfying. I could not recommend this book and probably would not read anything else by this author, especially since I learned she writes romance novels.

I agree wholly with the reviewer above (I think it was Carol N), but have to lower my rating a bit. The writing style has charm, the vignettes are mostly interesting, but it isn't a "book" book that will keep you turning pages to find out what happens. Save it for bedside reading, and yes, for doctor visits, perhaps for commuting, but if you need to be wrapped up in a good read for the afternoon look elsewhere. In fairness, I should mention that I am no gourmet, so spend my own time in Paris looking for croque monsieurs and simple crepes; it seems food is much more interesting to many readers today. And doesn't the parenting rattle some of the readers? It rattled me...but then, I have to confess to being in my 80's and I accept that Eloisa and Alessandro live in a different parenting world. Maybe that's a good thing?

I liked this book~a lot. The author transported me to Paris. I will never go there in person but reading this book almost made me smell the French food, yummy. She has a talent for description. The middle of the book got a little travelogish, no matter, I loved it all. Write about Montreal next.