Somewhere along the line, John Baxter's Paris at the End of the World: The City of Light During the Great War, 1914-1918 stops being so much about Paris and starts being much more about Baxter's own search for the records, and more importantly experiences, of his paternal grandfather, Archie.
Here's the deal: I love Paris. And I'm very interested in World War I. I have a much harder time investing myself in why an author's grandfather might have enlisted 100 years ago (to escape an uncomfortable domestic situation, Baxter ultimately surmises), retracing said soldier's steps from eastern Australia to western Europe, uncovering his medical history (oh the banality of varicose veins!), and then hypothesizing on how he got to Paris and who he might have met.
Unfortunately, I was not much more impressed with the Paris parts of the book. The section on Gallieni's use of Paris's taxicabs to transport French troops to the front was likely the most interesting, although that particular story is pretty well known. I take that back - the very most interesting bit concerns the drug kit containing "cocaine, morphine, syringes, and needles" sold by Harrod's and marketed as a "welcome present for friends at the front." Indeed. In any case, Harrod's stopped selling the kit, along with vials of heroin gel, after the British government restricted sale because those same friends at the front were too stoned to go "over the top."
Ultimately, the best of Paris at the End of the World are the myriad images, from old photographs to wartime to postcards and magazine illustrations, that are sprinkled liberally throughout the book. These, along with the various long-forgotten quotes and ditties (such as the riff on La Marseillaise, "Aux gares, citoyens / Montez dans les wagons") are the strength of Paris at the End of the World. Even so, more complete and in-depth books on World War I Paris are available; this one is probably best left to those seeking every perspective on wartime Paris, including that of a long-dead Australian soldier.
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