EARLY IN ROSECRANS Baldwin’s bittersweet memoir detailing his eighteen-month stint working in the French capital, he unabashedly announces that he has almost always held the conviction that the City of Lights was civilization’s summit: “For a long time I’d thought Paris had the world’s best everything. Girls, food, the crumble-down buildings. Even the very dust was arousing.” The Parisian life, he goes on to say, served as “an umbrella, a dream I carried around in case the weather turned bad.”
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