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A review by meganmccuenwitt
Flâneuse: Women Walk the City in Paris, New York, Tokyo, Venice and London by Lauren Elkin
4.0
When I was 19, I went to France by myself to stay with strangers and do research for a week. I had never been in Europe. I had never traveled on my own. I had never had to rely on my French. I had never stayed with strangers. When I got there, I expected my host to show me around. Instead, she passed me a map and her metro pass and encouraged me to wander. “It’s fun,” she promised. And it was. And it changed my life.
A year and a half later, I returned to France, this time to Paris for six months to study abroad. It was there that my love for wandering continued- walking from my residence in the 14th to the Eiffel Tower and back one night, or taking the Metro to a random part of the city and getting lost. This only grew my love for travel- leading me to travel to Germany on my own, to wander streets in London and Dublin and Greece and Switzerland on my own. Whenever I plan a trip, I always plan in some “wandering time” where I can walk the city on my own, pop in some headphones, take in the details, imagine stories of each little house, and imagine myself part of the city as well.
A few months ago, I listened to Lauren Elkin speak on “Tea and Tattle,” one of my favorite literary podcasts. When Elkin described “la flâneuse,” I knew she was describing me and my addiction to exploring cities on foot, happily and independently. After listening to her podcast, I immediately went to library and got the book. I felt such a thrill to read about these various literary women who also found happiness wandering around big cities on their own.
I think the best part is Elkin’s personal reflections on her wanders. Her experience studying abroad in Paris sound almost exactly like mine- energized by newly discovered independence and many coffee shops. I discovered many of the same author’s she did, marveling in retracing their steps in my Paris wanderings. I also loved her inclusion of authors and cities I love and admire- like Virginia Woolf’s own “Street Hauntings” in my London. It was fun too to read about Elkin’s own experiences in Tokyo and Venice, places I’ve never visited, but was intrigued to see how she wrote about them.
As many people have mentioned in reviews, Elkin’s lovely reflections can get lost in plot summary of various literary works. This did make the work cumbersome at times, especially when I would be so attached her personal narrative and wanting to read what comes next. However, I also liked the literary aspect of it because it pushed it from just being an account of Elkin’s travels, to being this literary sisterhood of women walkers.
I’m not a huge fan of non-fiction, so it took me months to read this. I liked reading it one chapter at a time, at a coffee shop or on a long car ride, and seeing where that “flânerie” took me. On the day I checked out the book, I tried to walk around a local park and take some picture of fall colors, but I was approached by several strange men and eventually took refuge in a shop till they went away. This incident connects with the deepest meaning that Elkin has in her book: women experience and walk the city differently than men. And I agree. How do I keep walking and exploring when the experience itself can make me feel vulnerable and discouraged? While Elkin’s book doesn’t necessarily have the answers, it has enough powerful examples of women walkers to make me inspired to keep wandering regardless.
A year and a half later, I returned to France, this time to Paris for six months to study abroad. It was there that my love for wandering continued- walking from my residence in the 14th to the Eiffel Tower and back one night, or taking the Metro to a random part of the city and getting lost. This only grew my love for travel- leading me to travel to Germany on my own, to wander streets in London and Dublin and Greece and Switzerland on my own. Whenever I plan a trip, I always plan in some “wandering time” where I can walk the city on my own, pop in some headphones, take in the details, imagine stories of each little house, and imagine myself part of the city as well.
A few months ago, I listened to Lauren Elkin speak on “Tea and Tattle,” one of my favorite literary podcasts. When Elkin described “la flâneuse,” I knew she was describing me and my addiction to exploring cities on foot, happily and independently. After listening to her podcast, I immediately went to library and got the book. I felt such a thrill to read about these various literary women who also found happiness wandering around big cities on their own.
I think the best part is Elkin’s personal reflections on her wanders. Her experience studying abroad in Paris sound almost exactly like mine- energized by newly discovered independence and many coffee shops. I discovered many of the same author’s she did, marveling in retracing their steps in my Paris wanderings. I also loved her inclusion of authors and cities I love and admire- like Virginia Woolf’s own “Street Hauntings” in my London. It was fun too to read about Elkin’s own experiences in Tokyo and Venice, places I’ve never visited, but was intrigued to see how she wrote about them.
As many people have mentioned in reviews, Elkin’s lovely reflections can get lost in plot summary of various literary works. This did make the work cumbersome at times, especially when I would be so attached her personal narrative and wanting to read what comes next. However, I also liked the literary aspect of it because it pushed it from just being an account of Elkin’s travels, to being this literary sisterhood of women walkers.
I’m not a huge fan of non-fiction, so it took me months to read this. I liked reading it one chapter at a time, at a coffee shop or on a long car ride, and seeing where that “flânerie” took me. On the day I checked out the book, I tried to walk around a local park and take some picture of fall colors, but I was approached by several strange men and eventually took refuge in a shop till they went away. This incident connects with the deepest meaning that Elkin has in her book: women experience and walk the city differently than men. And I agree. How do I keep walking and exploring when the experience itself can make me feel vulnerable and discouraged? While Elkin’s book doesn’t necessarily have the answers, it has enough powerful examples of women walkers to make me inspired to keep wandering regardless.