Book Review: Pancakes-Paris
Jul. 28th, 2023 07:41 amClaire Huchet Bishop’s Pancakes-Paris is a short book set in Paris just after World War II. Much of France is still in ruins, American soldiers are still in Paris, and although Charles and his little sister Zezette are not exactly starving, they have been hungry as long as they can remember. So after Charles helps a couple of lost American soldiers, he’s thrilled beyond measure when they give him a box of pancake mix as a thank-you.
Crepes! They’ll have crepes for Mardi Gras, for the first time since BEFORE. Or at least, they’ll have crepes if Charles can find someone who will translate the cooking instructions on the box. So he heads off to the American embassy for help, and there the kind receptionist translates the recipe. Then Charles runs into his American soldier friends, who give him a lift home and then show up on Mardi Gras, bringing all kinds of groceries to add to the feast!
To be honest, I struggled with this book: this image of American soldiers as good-hearted liberators later became so destructive in American foreign policy that it now gives me a knee-jerk twitch. The Bush administration, for instance, appears to have expected American troops to receive a rapturous welcome in both Afghanistan and Iraq, and never quite understood why they didn’t.
But Bishop was a Swiss-born writer who spent much of her young adulthood in France: she founded the first American-style children’s library in Paris, which the French professor Paul Hazard describes rapturously in his history of children’s literature Books, Children and Men. She’s not a clueless American projecting gratitude onto France, but an immigrant writer expressing her own gratitude for America’s help to a land that she loved and knew very well.
How was she to know that this gratitude would become an interventionist trope in American politics? “They’ll greet us with flowers, like they did in Paris,” insists the interventionists. And indeed they did in Paris. But that doesn't mean it will happen again in whatever ill-advised adventure the interventionists envision.
Crepes! They’ll have crepes for Mardi Gras, for the first time since BEFORE. Or at least, they’ll have crepes if Charles can find someone who will translate the cooking instructions on the box. So he heads off to the American embassy for help, and there the kind receptionist translates the recipe. Then Charles runs into his American soldier friends, who give him a lift home and then show up on Mardi Gras, bringing all kinds of groceries to add to the feast!
To be honest, I struggled with this book: this image of American soldiers as good-hearted liberators later became so destructive in American foreign policy that it now gives me a knee-jerk twitch. The Bush administration, for instance, appears to have expected American troops to receive a rapturous welcome in both Afghanistan and Iraq, and never quite understood why they didn’t.
But Bishop was a Swiss-born writer who spent much of her young adulthood in France: she founded the first American-style children’s library in Paris, which the French professor Paul Hazard describes rapturously in his history of children’s literature Books, Children and Men. She’s not a clueless American projecting gratitude onto France, but an immigrant writer expressing her own gratitude for America’s help to a land that she loved and knew very well.
How was she to know that this gratitude would become an interventionist trope in American politics? “They’ll greet us with flowers, like they did in Paris,” insists the interventionists. And indeed they did in Paris. But that doesn't mean it will happen again in whatever ill-advised adventure the interventionists envision.