Forums New posts Search forums. What's new New posts New profile posts Latest activity. Members Current visitors New profile posts Search profile posts.
Log in Register. Search titles only. Search Advanced search…. New posts. Search forums. Log in. Install the app. For a better experience, please enable JavaScript in your browser before proceeding. You are using an out of date browser. It may not display this or other websites correctly. You should upgrade or use an alternative browser.
Thread starter titania7 Start date Oct 30, It was the inclusion of this book in Thomas Saliot's list of 50 Favorite books post that prompted me to order Quiet Days in Clichy from the library--and read it. Never having read Miller before, aside from perfunctory glances at a couple of his novels, I wasn't quite sure what to expect. Needless to say, I found myself enjoying this infinitely readable, if not stupendous, book very much indeed. The book opens with a beautiful description of the ambience of Paris: "It's been a gray day, such as one often sees in Paris It is the same hour, the same sort of day, and yet even the word gray, which brought about the association, has little in common with that gris which, to the ears of a Frenchman, is capable of evoking a world of thought and feeling.
Thomas, given your profession, I can see why this would appeal so strongly to you. I was aware of the singular absence of what is known as Payne's gray. I mention it because Paris, as everyone knows, is pre-eminently a gray city. I mention it because, in the realm of watercolor, American painters use this made-to-order gray excessively and obsessively. In France the range of grays is seemingly infinite; here the very effect of gray is lost.
At the same time, these passages are among of favorite ones in this page read. Now for the characters. The protagonist, Joey, is a penniless writer--a straightforward, fun-loving guy. He likes his sex cheap and his food where he can find out--including out of the garbage can, from which he retrieves a piece of mildewed bread in a fit of hunger.
