The Girl Who Reads on the Métro by Christine Féret-Fleury
“Never judge a book by its cover.”
Well, I did, and it worked out for me.
This quick and snappy stand-alone novel, set-in present-day Paris, is highly descriptive yet easily digestible. However, the plot leaves a lot to be desired as it hops from one scene to the next. It focuses on people over plot; the story is in the human connections, verbal as well as nonverbal. Instead of reading books on the metro, main character, Juliette, reads people on the metro as discretely as possible. She watches the people and scenes around her as if watching a movie. Once the sight of an old book on the ground leads her to where she meets Soliman, her life turns upside down. She’s quickly thrusted into a world of books and human connection that really isn’t explained in depth. To his young daughter, Zaide, her mother and probably most he encounters, Soliman is a hopeless shut-in, but Juliette understands him.
An entire world can exist inside one room.
“The Girl Who Reads on the Metro” is for all the readers out there. The wallflowers. The ones who narrate every move in their head. It may not be the most complex plot, but the deep connections between the characters and the stacks and stacks of books were more than enough stimulation for me to devour it in a day and kick start my need to read.
All I can say now is, I hope Juliette, in the Yellow Submarine, found what she was looking for.
