Whenever books receive a certain amount of acclaim, I always worry that they will not live up to my expectations. It's sad, in a way, that when there's a great amount of buzz about a book, my first impulse is to doubt, but I've had my hopes crushed one too many times. So as much as I looked forward to reading The Elegance of the Hedgehog, I was a bit hesitant to actually pick it up. In the end, there was no reason to fear. This novel is utterly lovely and quite deserves all the praise it has received.

Muriel Barbery sets her novel in Paris at 7 rue de Grenelle, an upper-class residence of apartments, and the story is told from two perspectives. The first is that of Madame Renée Michel, who has been the concierge at 7 rue de Grenelle for twenty-seven years. Renée is 54, somewhat dumpy and nondescript. She exerts a great amount of effort in keeping up the appearance of the average concierge: gruff and ignorant, with a constantly-blaring television and a very fat cat. But despite this projection, Renée is an incredibly intelligent woman, an avid reader of fine literature and philosophy who is unwilling to be found out and recognized for her proclivities. She distrusts the wealthy and isolates herself into a very predictable existence, with a steady routine and one friend. She believes this is enough. Our other narrator is Paloma Josse, a precociously philosophical twelve-year-old resident of the building. Paloma is an introvert who has a tendency to hide from her family so she can be left alone with her thoughts, which she is recording in a journal, along with observations on the world and assessments of those around her. Since she has been disappointed in life and the people in it, she has come to the conclusion that it's better to die young rather than grow up into the kind of adult she sees around her, and so she is planning to commit suicide on her 13th birthday by setting the apartment on fire and taking a number of sleeping pills.

Both of these narrators are incredibly eloquent; Renée is a more touch formal and Paloma has a tendency to present tidy pieces of wit. The first half of the novel is taken up with their observations of various people in the building and musings on their own lives and reading, without any interaction between the two. About midway through the novel, though, both lives are changed when a new resident moves into the building: Kakuro Ozu is a wealthy and successful Japanese gentleman, which would normally slide him into the dismissible category for both of these narrators. But Kakuro is also an observant and thoughtful man, quickly aware of such unique characters as the intelligent concierge (who lets a Tolstoy reference slip in their first short conversation) and the quiet twelve-year-old (who reads manga and is taking Japanese at school). As Renée and Paloma form their separate friendships with Kakuro, they find a kindred spirit in each other, too. If anything, I wish that this coming together of our two narrators had happened a bit earlier, as I felt we didn't have enough interaction between them.

I must give great credit to the translator, Alison Anderson. Muriel Barbery writes in French, so Ms. Anderson plays a crucial role in this novel's appeal to an English-speaking market. I would recommend this book on the basis of its language alone. Yes, it's lofty and often philosophical, but I find that to be delightful. The ideas are refreshing and never dry (indeed, Renée at one time talks about the value of films such as The Hunt for Red October amidst her musings on Japanese films and philosophers). I frequently re-read passages to savor their charm, and certainly believe this is some of the most exquisite language that I've encountered this year. It's truly remarkable to be able to surrender to a well-formed character's voice taking you along on her thought process. Incredibly simple things become fascinating and you wonder if you could ever express things quite so beautifully as Renée and Paloma. These two ladies are utterly charming and while at times, they were somewhat unbelievable as real people, I found that reservation easy enough to cast off before I was delighting in both Renée and Paloma. Of course, I think that Renée was the one to truly steal my heart. Paloma is sweet, yes, but Renée really steals the show.

Ultimately, the book is wonderfully bittersweet, owed entirely to one's feelings about the characters, and I admit that it's been quite some time since I've cried at the end of a novel -- not just misty eyes, but actual tears. The language and the characters continue to drift into my thoughts. I've gone back to look at a few particularly memorable passages with a smile. So don't let the great reviews throw you -- they're all quite true. It's an elegant novel that quite deserves your attention. C'est magnifique. ( )

I found this book tedious. While it had some moments of transcendence, primarily in the languarge, overall I cannot recommend this book. ( )

In short, this book is a must read. When I first started the book, I thought it was a very “odd” book. Once I started reading it, I thought it was hilarious. My favourite entry would be “Journal of the Movement of the World No. 2.”

I really enjoyed the character Mmd. Michel and Paloma. It was very interesting to see their views on the world. They both seem to believe that everyone and everything has a role to play in life, and there is no way around it. Mmd. Michel believes she is the concierge of the building and nothing more. She doesn’t even think of herself as a neighbour. She hides her intelligence because as a concierge she must fit into her stereotype and the overall hierarchy. Paloma is afraid to become an adult and plans to commit suicide before her 13th birthday. It seems that Paloma believes adults are tarnished. Her mother has been in therapy for ten years, and she clearly has issues with her father and sister. Paloma begins to drink “tea” rather than coffee because coffee is a nasty persons drink. Paloma views tea as “elegant and enchanting.”

When Mr. Ozu comes to live in their building, Mmd. Michel is no longer able to hide. He has a suspicion that she is not merely a concierge, he believes her cat is named after Tolstoy and he begins to observe her. Eventually, Mmd. Michel gives in to her convictions. She comes out of her shell, and befriends Mr. Ozu. I believe her change brings out hope in Paloma, and ultimately saves her.

This book is a must read, it’s entertaining and really makes you think.

I believe this quote sums up the book.

“I derived two certainties: the strong live and the weak die, and their pleasure and suffering are proportionate in the hierarchy. Lisette has been beautiful and poor, I was intelligent and indigent but like her I was doomed to a similar punishment if I ever sought to make use of my mind in defiance of my class. Finally, as I could not cease to be who I was either, it became clear to me that my path would be one of secrecy: I had to keep silent about who I was, and never mix with that other world. ( )

A brilliant girl of twelve lives in a luxurious apartment complex in Paris where she and the concierge, a woman of about sixty, disdain the rest of apartment's inhabitants and share intellectual proclivities. While mildly aware of each other's presence, they nonetheless hold themselves back from the rest of the world. The girl, Paloma, hides her brilliance and plans to commit suicide on her 13th birthday if she cannot find anything beautiful worth living for in the world. Renee, the concierge, voraciously reads political commentary yet feigns her intelligence amongst her employers. However, both are about to be revealed when a new owner of one of the flats moves into their apartment complex.

Concrete, poignant, and abstract are the three main attributes to which I ascribe this novel. Ms. Barbery give us real examples to ground the sometimes abstract concepts that her characters sometimes think about and she does it in such a fabulously written manner as to leave me quite breathless at times. A must read. ( )

Having picked this book up twice, and not liked it either time, I have decided to give up. Sometimes, quirky is good, and sometimes, quirky is a chore to read. None of the characters were compelling; their thoughts were not little revolutions, but pretty mundane. Patrons have loved this book -- but not me. ( )

My experience with Muriel Barbery's The Elegance of the Hedgehog was the exact opposite of what I expected. This may be the first review I've written that has a more negative than subjective tone, but I'm just gonna be honest. Maybe it's because I had high expectations or maybe it was really that boring, but I'm gonna say it's a combination of the two.

First of all, this book has an awesomely creative premise. The story focuses on two unique individuals that live in the same upscale Paris apartment building. We have Renée Marcel, the 50-something concierge that secretly enjoys art, culture, and literature, but is usually overlooked. Then there is Paloma Josse, the 12-year-old daughter of a wealthy family. Paloma is extraordinarily intelligent but has decided that life is a fish bowl. There's nothing to look forward to in adulthood, so she has decided to commit suicide on her thirteenth birthday.

So this seems like a great setup for a story, yes? Well, about 250 pages in, you might finally be satisfied with the direction the story is going. The book is structured with alternating chapters written by Renée and Paloma, but the first 200+ pages were just intellectual garble to me. This is how the characters are introduced to the reader, but we have to listen to internal monologue after internal monologue about this or that philosopher/artist/musician. It felt like a philosophical discourse for which I hadn't done the reading. It takes more than these 200 pages for the two characters to actually meet and interact—an event I would have expected and liked to happen much earlier in the novel.

When people call this novel brilliant, I think they must be referring to the last 100 pages, because that's where the story I expected seems to begin. Yes, I understand the point of this book. Two individuals who are overlooked, underestimated, and deal with the loneliness that comes with being unique. The relationship they have with each other is gratifying and cultivated. They bring out the best of each other; they're kindred spirits of sort (to pull out Anne of Green Gables reference). But I just felt like I was missing something. I was never fully engrossed with the characters, though I did enjoy the last part of the book.

I think this deserves a re-read on my part. And please, do read it and give me your opinion. It's been a NYTimes bestseller and all of France seems to love it, so it there must be something good about it. ( )

It is so great to read a book the is so well written that I occasionally had to refer to a dictionary! Great story of discovering who you are -- that you do not have to hid your true self to succeed among all classes of people. ( )

I really struggled to get into this book; if I were following Nancy Pearl’s rule of fifty, I would have marked it DNF. But, I persevered, and after about 70 pages I was hooked.

The novel is written from the points of view of both Renée and Paloma. Renée relates to the reader in the first person present tense; we are with her as events are unfolding and receive a near-constant stream of her thoughts and reactions to those around her. This may be one of the reasons I initially had a hard time connecting with the book. As much as this narrator is being judged by those in the apartment building, she, too, is judging them.

The second narrator, twelve-year-old Paloma, also evaluates those around her. Her portions use a different typeface and are told in the past tense, making it easy for the reader to follow as Barbery switches between narrators. Paloma explains, in her journal, why she doesn’t plan to be around past her thirteenth birthday (p 24):

"" … there’s no way I’m going to end up in the goldfish bowl. I’ve thought this through quite carefully. Even for someone like me who is super smart and gifted in her studies and different from everyone else, in fact superior to the vast majority – even for me life is already all plotted out and so dismal you could cry: no one seems to have thought of the fact that if life is absurd, being a brilliant success has no greater value than being a failure. It’s just more comfortable. And even then: I think lucidity gives your success a bitter taste, whereas mediocrity still leaves hope for something.""

When the book finally sunk its claws into me (almost 20% through it!), it was Renée’s voice that I most appreciated. My unscientific sampling indicates that she narrated about 2/3 of the novel. While Paloma was searching, almost defiantly for a reason to live, Rene was resigned to her lot in life and content enough with the charade she had designed in order to be true to herself outside the role of concierge. We read what happens when Renée’s charade has been unmasked, a chink in her armor revealed; her reactions are genuine and intense.

In the end, I am so glad I stuck with The Elegance of the Hedgehog. In fact, this is likely a book that I’ll re-read at some point; I’m sure there are nuggets of gold in those first 70 pages, too … now that I know what Renée and Paloma are capable of, I’d like to go back and mine them. If you pick it up, do know that you may find it slow going at first.

full review at http://www.sheistoofondofbooks.com/20...
She is Too Fond of Books ( )

I absolutely adored this book from beginning to end. I borrowed it from the library, but I'm going to go and buy myself a copy the next chance I get. Renee, the autodidact (which means she educated herself without a teacher) who hides behind her concierge persona is a gem. I love her tangents and the wild rides through her brain that we chanced a glimpse of. I also loved Paloma, who discovered the meaning of "never." Kakuro is a bit of a mystery, but provides a special role by enlightening each narrator about themselves and their motives. A treasure to read. ( )

I received this from Early Reviewers as an audiobook. This is the first time I have listened to a book instead of reading one and I am not sure I am a fan. I don't know for some reason I found it was very easy to get distracted. Once I was able to get used to the format I really started getting into the story.

I agree with other reviewers the first fifty pages or so were hard to get through but then you find yourself loving the unique characters of Mme. Michel and Paloma and was grateful they found a kindred spirit in Mr. Ozu. I would recommend this highly and I plan on getting a copy of the book to actually read it and not just listen to someone else telling the story. ( )

This is a simply ELEGANT book. Mme Michel has long concealed her intelligence and learning from the residents of the building for which she is the concierge. Paloma Josse, the extraordinarily intelligent daughter of a resident family is deeply depressed in a slightly dramatic 12-year-old way and not so skilled at finding the solitude she needs to think Profound Thoughts. The arrival of Kakuro Ozu, a wealthy and sophisticated Japanese gentleman, draws Mme Michel and Paloma both out and together, offering both a heretofore unimagined sense of freedom. His friendship with Mme Michel brings her love, luxury and self-forgiveness. Remaining true to herself, Mme Michel one morning rushes to the aid of a homeless man and is struck by a passing van. Her death is heartbreaking for both Paloma and Mr. Ozu but their shared friendship carries them forward. ( )

Mixed feelings. I loved the last third, as her relationship with the Japanese guy was developing. The chapters by the precocious little girl, and the early chapters by the concierge, were a little too precious and show-offy (though part of the problem may have been the translation), making the first two thirds just very slightly boring. ( )

I read Muriel Barbery's The Elegance of the Hedgehog for my book club. I'll be honest: I wouldn't have finished it if I hadn't needed to. It took me a really long time to get into this book.

At first, I didn't really like Renée.Without giving anything away, though, once I found out more about her past and how she came to make the decisions she made, my heart really opened up to Renée and I liked the character quite a bit. Sadly, though, I really didn't like Paloma any more at the end of the book than I did at the beginning.

This is not to say that there weren't some great moments in this book. The diaries by Paloma and Renée each have their own distinct voice, but both have passages that had me reaching for my little flags, to mark the spot.

http://archthinking.blogspot.com/2009... ( )

Took me a long time to get through the first three quarters of the book - too much minutia- but by the end i have to say that I did like it in general. ( )

The Elegance of the Hedgehog
by Muriel Barbery
Published by Europa Editions
Translated from the French by Allison Anderson

For some time now I've had an itching to take French lessons. I have no idea why. Long ago, in my ancient past, I took a semester of university French with Madame Maas and did not like the language. I think I felt it too simplistic and effete after the rigors of wrestling with German syntax and Russian verb aspects.

Perhaps, these 40 years later, I am more inclined to a search for elegance.

Muriel Barbery brings us two seemingly disparate characters - a fifty-something concierge for an elite apartment complex and a twelve-year-old daughter of one of the complex families. Both, however, are bitter, super-intelligent misfits who have built themselves into their own individual worlds of misery. They are both philosophical snobs, decrying the fallacies and foibles of those on the other sides of the invisible walls they've built around themselves.

I didn't like either of them much for the first 150 pages or so of their individual journals. I wanted to give them each a swift kick in the keister and wondered why I was even bothering to continue reading. But this is a book not just about redemption, but transformation. Barbery manages to weave a thin thread of hope of that transformation through her characters' misery. Just hints, but they held me through to the sad, but satisfying, ending.

I particularly enjoyed this passage on the joy of writing by Madame Michel, the concierge:
This is eminently true of many happy moments in life. Freed from the demands of decision and intention, adrift on some inner sea, we observe our various movements as if they belonged to someone else, and yet we admire their involuntary excellence. What other reason might I have for writing this - ridiculous journal of an aging concierge - if the writing did not have something of the art of scything about it? The lines gradually become their own demiurges and, like some witless yet miraculous participant, I witness the birth on paper of sentences that have eluded my will and appear in spite of me on the sheet, teaching me something that I neither knew nor thought I might want to know. This painless birth, like an unsolicited proof, gives me untold pleasure, and with neither toil nor certainty but the joy of frank astonishment I follow the pen that is guiding and supporting me.

Yup. I get that. Been there. Frequently.

And shortly after this passage twelve-year-old Paloma brings us this after a visit to her grandmother:
So, we mustn't forget any of this, absolutely not. We have to live with the certainty that we'll get old and that it won't look nice or be good or feel happy. And tell ourselves that it's now that matters: to build something, now, at any price, using all our strength. Always remember that there's a retirement home waiting somewhere and so we have to surpass ourselves every day, make every day undying. Climb our own personal Everest and do it in such a way that every step is a little bit of eternity.

That's what the future is for: to build the present, with real plans, made by living people.

So, basically what Barbery tells us through Madame Michel and Paloma is get out of your heads, break down your invisible walls, find your passion, and live life like it will end tomorrow, because it might. Not an original premise certainly - we hear it from motivational speakers ad infinitum - but Barbery presents it in such a very elegant way.
http://howlingnsilence.blogspot.com ( )

OLIN NEW PQ2662.A6523 E44 2008

Well, I was convinced I hated this book. I hated all the philosophical ramblings, and I wasn't sure I liked either of the main characters. And then I found myself bawling on the train during my morning commute as I finished this book. I am pretty sure that means I liked it. And I ended up liking the characters. Especially Renee. The more I read, the more I identified with her.

Oh...and now I really want a toilet that plays Mozart when you flush it. That would be so cool!

Read this book. Force yourself through it. You won't be disappointed. ( )

Perfectly believable, too close to home in many respects. Another ending that is too real. Beautifully written.

"Pues el Arte es la vida, pero con otro ritmo."

Well written. The concierge of a high-end Paris apartment building tries to hide how well educated she is so not to appear as she is putting on airs. She befriends a smart but suicidal middle school age girl in the building. ( )

Best book I've read in ages. Every now and then I was thinking it was a modern day Austen. The main characters are great philosophers of the Platonic type. The language is elegant. The humour made me laugh out loud. The unexpected ending was another touch of reality. Once I'd started I couldn't put it down. I was confused about the camellia which in my garden is not a little flowery bedding plant but a shrub. Wondered if it was translated correctly or whether the author is just not a gardener. A pity because it was quite pivotal to the story. ( )

The Elegance of the Hedgehog, by Muriel Barbery.

I picked this up at the library after reading a really interesting article by Kim Allen-Niesen about the sad lack of European books being translated into English, which pointed out the French-to-English translated Hedgehog as a particularly wonderful sample of the possibilities we're missing out on.

I was so enchanted by this book that I broke my cardinal rule of Good Librarianship, and I took a library book on vacation with me. Camping. In the woods of Acadia. Of course, this makes for a bittersweet ending -- the one night I left the book out on the picnic table, it rained. (It gets dark quickly, and if you assume that you've put away all perishables earlier in the evening, well, let's just say there's no last look around by the light of the living room lamp to ensure you're right...)

The characters are eminently human, the humor is tart, the elegance is natural enough to bowl you over.

You can read the article here:
http://bookshopblog.com/2009/08/02/ar... ( )

I had read a lot of really positive things about this book on LT. I went into it with some trepidation, certain that it couldn't live up to the praise I had heard. Wow, was I wrong! Not only did it meet the high standard I was expecting, it surpassed it on just about every level. There's lots of philosophy and Art, but the real meat of the story is the characters: Renee, the self-educated concierge who hides from the world; Paloma, the 12-year-old genius; and Ozu, the Japanese man who befriends them both. Their not perfect characters, and at times I found some of their opinions pretentious, but they are REAL. The story starts out slow and builds subtly until by the last 50 pages or so, I could not put it down. I got it out from the library, but this is one I will buy and reread, which isn't something I do very often. Highly recommended. I gave it five stars for the sake of LT ratings, but in reality, it's worth about five hundred stars. ( )

This is an unusual novel in which very little happens, but we find out a great deal about the two main characters through their thoughts. While the philosophical ramblings of Renée and Paloma are somewhat self-indulgent and tend to get in the way of the narrative, we do get considerable insight into the little world of a Paris apartment building concierge and the precocious young daughter of one of the resident families. Renée, the concierge, tries to act the role of a dim-witted servant, despite her impressive intelligence and love of literature and art. Paloma, who is only 12, matter-of-factly pronounces her own high intelligence, and has decided to commit suicide on her next birthday, due to the absurdity of life. Renée’s narrative is punctuated by a series of Paloma’s ‘profound thoughts’ and journal entries. Both their lives are changed by the arrival of a new resident, Monsieur Ozu, who, unlike the other residents, immediately sees through Renée’s facade, and engages her in fascinating conversations. Renée and Paloma also become friends, despite the misgivings of Paloma’s superficial mother. Just as Renée’s life promises to become interesting, the author unkindly kills her off! However, Paloma’s interactions with Renée and M. Ozu have inspired her to think again about taking her own life. Barbery’s novel is beautifully written and very erudite, but a trifle irritating in its constant philosophical meanderings. ( )

waiting to read

Renee is short, ugly and plump. Her only genuine attachment is to her cat, Leo. She is everything society expects from a concierge at a bourgeois building in a posh Parisian neighborhood. But Renee has a secret has a secret: she is a ferocious autodidact who furtively devours art, philosophy, music, and Japanese culture. With biting humor she scrutinizes the lives of the building's tenants - her inferiors in every way except that of material wealth. Then there's Paloma, a super-smart twelve-year-old who lives on the fifth floor. Talented, precocious, and startlingly lucid, she has decided to end her own life on the day of her thirteenth birthday. Until then she will continue hiding her extraordinary intelligence behind a mask of mediocrity. ( )