Violette & Co., Paris
October 27th, 2006 | Uncategorized
I don’t have any visuals from my booksigning last night because of a long complicated saga about my camera which I will recount below. But I had a very lovely evening at Violette et Compagnie, la librarie des filles et des garçons manqués, the bookstore “for girls and tomboys.”
Catherine and Christine, who run the bookstore, were très charmantes. As I learned from my editor, authors don’t really do readings in France, but actors will read from their books. So I didn’t read. Christine began the evening with a very thoughtful description of my book. And then I did a short powerpoint presentation about how I drew Fun Home, and a very nice South African woman named Fiona translated. I like having a translator. I wish I had one all the time, even in English, who would constantly be clarifying what I was trying to say.
There was a fairly long question and answer session with the audience—long because of course everything had to be translated so I could understand and be understood. Man, I’m feeling like a sad, monolingual idiote. Several of the women in the audience have been following the blog, and à propos of the recent Tintin discussion, a very sweet woman who’s been posting here as Elisablue brought me a gift of “Le Lotus Bleu!” It was lovely to meet a bunch of French dykes.
I was really exhausted afterward, and excused myself from dinner with the bookstore women. I had done a radio interview with RFI (Radio France International) that afternoon, then an interview with a woman from a Swiss lesbian and gay magazine. I’m feeling like my recent travels in the US were a kind of endurance training for this trip. Here I’m not only doing all the grueling publicity stuff, but everything else I do, from navigating the Métro to buying lunch, requires absolutely all of my attention. To translate, to figure out the different way people do things here–it’s all very fun, but challenging and quite taxing. Oh…and the omnipresent haze of cigarette smoke doesn’t help.
Which brings me to the story about my camera. I left my battery charger and European electrical adapter plugged into the wall at my London hotel–in another instance of being rushed and flustered. I tried to get the hotel to send the things to me, but they were utterly unhelpful. So rather than visiting the Louvre or the Centre Pompidou or the Musée D’Orsay, I’ve been spending all my spare time in La Fnac, the big French book-and-electronics superstore, looking for a battery charger. Quite an exercise—searching for an obscure accessory for an obsolete (4 years old) electronic device in a foreign country. I found one for 5 euros that ended up not being right. Then I went back and got a clerk to help me, and what I gathered from him was that they had one but it cost 65 euros, (which was absurd) and no, I couldn’t see it. So then I got the bright idea of buying a new camera! I’d just get a new, cheap digital camera—I could afford it thanks to all the DONATIONS (thank you, thank you everyone) that people have sent to the site. (More on that later, when I have time to think, okay?)
The cheapest camera was a nice little HP one, for 99 euros. So I bought that and went and had lunch at a sidewalk café, and opened it up and figured it out. Then I had to race back to my hotel to meet my publicist Sylvie to go to the radio interview. I was late, and I had to make sure to be dressed for the evening and have all my electronic equipment for the powerpoint show with me. So I was feeling a little frazzled by the time we got in the cab. Then as we drove, I turned all of my concentration to conversing with Sylvie, who speaks English only a little better than I speak French. And somehow, with all of that going on, I distractedly left my brand new camera on the seat of the cab as we got out at RFI.
A long, complicated search for the taxi company ensued. Sylvie, and the woman who interviewed me at RFI, and the driver of the next taxi we took, and the people at my hotel who had called the cab in the first place—everyone tried very valiantly to find the cab company but for some reason they were impossible to track down.
So. 99 euros down the drain. Actually, more like 120, since I’d also purchased a larger memory card (and I was quite pleased that I’d thought of that, and that I’d been able to negotiate the transaction in French).
C’est une signe. I guess I’m just not meant to take pictures.
21 Responses to “Violette & Co., Paris”
Poor AB, sounds like something was bound to snap in all this polylingual franticness. Just for now, get a couple of $5 disposable film cameras (appareils-photo jetables de film says Babelfish). We’ll wait for the pics. Otherwise the archive will have a gap the size of Belgium. And next digi camera, get one with a remote control (télécommande)…
Meanwhile, can the bits be retrieved from the London hotel? One of us could probably go visit, accompanied by a dozen big ol dykes on bikes to remind them what Customer Service means.
Dear Alison, I have not been able found information on wich countries in Europe are lucky to have you as gueast. Just wondered if you were going to The Arctic Comic Centre in Kemi, Finland. They`re having some sort of gathering this month.
Oh, Pam — I’m in Austin, Texas and in a wheelchair, but I do so wish I could join your Customer Service crew. Take pictures, okay?
This has nothing to do with your blog, but I have just wondered whether a film animation of DTWOF or Fun Home is in the offering (not that you need more things to do.. but clearly, it could add to your busy-ness and frantic pace of life!).. An animation.. that could bring you loads of dosh (cash) and make you even more famous cos it’d have a wider appeal. I mean if L Word is now regular viewing in the States/worldwide, who’s to say that DTWOF or Fun Home couldn’t be justly rewarded at various festivals and art house cinemas.. Just a thought – i’m sure i’m not the first one to suggest this either. Guess you’d need a sponsor for it… and that’d mean spending more money.. hmm. New to the blog.. sorry if this isn’t appropriate and sorry to hear about your camera.. S. (and very sorry that I missed seeing you in London)
Great idea, dykes on bikes to ensure customer service for our dear Alison. I am so sorry to hear you are having such a frantic time Alison. I know when I travel that my life seems to be in a blender turned on high……..but being in a differenct country, speaking in a different language would just add to the mix. Maybe next time………I hope you do some tours again………you can take someone with you who can help you take care of all of the little things that you need for the tour, like all your personal things, camera’s, powerpoint stuff and all the rest? Hope you have some down time to enjoy the history and beautiful art in the city.
Oh dear … I’m very sorry about that camera … it would have been a miracle te retrieve it, there are so many cabs and companies around in Paris …
The presentation at Violette and Co was indeed both extremely interesting and very warm. I was impressed by the way you need to make things nearly transparent with sincerity. With that wonderful sense of humor, always. The way you talk and explain things resembles the way you write and draw. Struggling a little to explain this myself, sorry.
Et de rien pour le Lotus bleu … It was my pleasure.
🙂
poor thing! how frustrating. by the way…I want to donate …but I’m not seeing where on the site I click to do this? anyhelp would be much appreciated. I feel so grateful to be able to read your blog and live vicariously through you and your exciting life!
okay never mind…I just found the pay pal button silly me!
It was kinda painful just to *read* about your misadventure with electronics. Some kind frenchwoman really should intercede and badger the hotel for your electronic attachments.
Ooh yeah, Steph, good point. Watch out Alison, the spec men will probably be around to buy the rights for “Fun Home” as soon as the “Persepolis” film comes out.
Thank you very much to have come to Paris and to dedicate your book to me in Violette and co library.
I liked much the presentation of your work and your perfectionism in particular about the drawings. For 6 months that I know DTWOF I used to trace your drawings founded on Internet.
I devoured Fun Home intimate, moving : your story and sometimes all lesbian’s story.
Thank you and long life for Fun Home and DTWOF while hoping to see you soon in France:o)
Monica (copyright since 1976) from France
Alison,
I have been reading Antonia Frasier’s biography of Marie Antoinette, so I have been in a very French mood lately, even making a “french” chocolate cake from a recipe a friend brought me, back when she was an exchange student in Lorraine. So I am so thrilled to see you in Paris, and so excited to read of your experience in France!
One little bit of trivia I found in the book: the French were so thrilled when she finally gave birth to a male heir, that it became the “in thing” to attach the word “dauphin” to every new product or event. They even went so far as to name a color in honor of rhe baby’s poop!
It was (can you believe this?) “caca-dauphin”! Not sure of the exact shade, but based on personal experience, I would think it would be the color I used to refer to as “baby shit yellow”. I can’t wait to use it in a sentence! Like, “I know you’d like to paint the house this color honey, but it’s a little caca-dauphin for me.” Something like that.
Anyway, back to the Grand tour. I hope you know I’m living a small part of my life vicariously through you!
Oh my.
Dear Alison.
I think you need a fulltime assistant…
like a valet…
a girl Friday…
a personal organizer…
(no not one of those electronic thingys,
an actual human being to help you)
I work for small favors and airfare.
Just letting you know.
Totally for your sake.
I’m selfless like that.
Sorry you think that Gay Paree is just of haze of smoke ! We celebrated catching a glance of you at Les mots à la bouche at a nearby café with quite a few smokes and drinks. To be honest we were stalking you but failed miserably not being very experienced at stalking. So we went for a few more drinks and smokes at an also nearby dyke bar where we were certain we’d bump into you but failed again. We had a lot of fun, we should make more similar arrangements in the future ! (By the way where WERE you?)
Sweetie I have A.D.D. and what you’re describing is pretty run-of-the-course day-to-day week-to-week on-the-regular for me. It sucks, I know — not trying to undermine that in any way. It’s interesting (dare I say comforting?) to see that even the most organized can have their logistical capacities overwhelmed… and how similar it looks when they do. Interesting, too, that being in a wholly new context is partially a trigger. (I *so* was not born in this country in my last life.) I lost my first camera when I was ten: left it on an airplane seat.
If it’s any comfort (from someone who lives like this): try to stay calm, take it in stride (the universe picks up on and magnifies flustered energy back at ya’), and remember to say “screw it” every once in a while, forget the blog, and go check out La Louvre with some cute, relaxed, calm French girl (or native of whatever country you happen to be in). You could also simply work in a mention your misadventures and need for a camera (and / or pictures) during one of your speaking engagements, and see if an offer for either comes in. If not… let it go and enjoy the scenery. Down time is essential.
Just some thoughts (and a little public a.d.d.-advocacy.) 😉
I know you are feeling uncomfortable with the donations, but I hope you will allow us the pleasure of giving what we can. If you can accept that the street corner musician may be at least as worthy of the coins tossed in her hat as the polished and marketed singer is of the “coins” she gets (after the markerters get their share); and the nurse midwife is worthy of her fee as the doctor is of hers — than maybe you can accept that your art and your gifts to us are worthy of remuneration. And, just like the street musician may actually be more talented than the polished professional singer, so your art may actually be worth more than the dollar value of our donation. Such is the way of things. And there is no shame in “passing the hat” as a reminder that one way for us to thank you is to help with the expenses that bring us your art.
The best gifts are those that bring joy to both the giver and the recipient.
I, too wish that I had a translator along in every day life to help explain what I mean. Wouldn’t that be great?
As Alison’s show at pine street art works goes into it’s final week, I’d like to remind everyone that the framed orginal drawings of DTWOF and Fun Home are amazing for their skill, for their historical value, for their market value and for the pleasure they give to the viewer. True,too,for the monumental drawings.
I urge all of you to check out the pine street art works website, where you can see all of the monumental drawings, and lots of other fun things, too. And if you feel like contributing to Alison – and she does deserve it – consider contributing by buying her work. We’re happy to ship anywhere.
As I’ve mentioned before, and say to gallery visitors every day, Alison is on her way up, she’s becoming a major star, and her work will only go up in value.
You can’t lose by buying Alison’s books and her art. So show your support not only to Alison but to the businesses – the publishers, the local booksellers and gallery – that have supported her and made her work available.
Alison and Phranc mounted a great show at pine street art works. Most of you can’t visit in person, but you can view it on the gallery website, and even take home a souvenir.
Cheers, liza, http://www.pinestreetartworks.com
Man, I have also been getting a lot flakier when travelling lately; it is some combination of being more busy and more old. But don’t hesitate to buy *another* camera! The whole reason you are busy is you are making yourself money publicising your book, and I bet you won’t forget it this time!
Here’s one to get paranoid about, I just Friday turned up to a lecture without that little bit that connects the mac to all laptop projectors, the first time I’ve ever done that. I can’t imagine what I did with it; I had it wednesday. Fortunately I could borrow a laptop AND a memory stick (to transfer the files) from two of my students there!
But never, ever get out of a taxi without taking a long last look in it. I learned this after leaving one too many pairs of gloves in taxis (which you have to take off to pay the driver… and you don’t even realize you have…)
it sure does seem as though you were not meant to take pictures for a while. could it be that you were particularly meant to draw the experience out? all of the frustration would fuel the beginning, but as you worked through the frames, you would begin to find all of the delight and magic that you so want to impart.
for now, only for yourself. we who love you can wait years.
in the meantime, could a series of serendipitous events occur to bring back not one, but both cameras?
a taxi driver’s daughter could find your new camera, has been following your saga, and finds a way to return it to you by attending one of your events.. but she couldn’t resist pushing buttons and you find you also have amazing pictures of the city from a native’s point of view…
or a posse of devastatingly debonair dykes, capable of charming lost and left behind equipment out of the hmm… hotel personnel…
Sorry to hear about your camera misadventure. I HATE losing things and I HATE wasting money.
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