Although there are quite a few novels about draughty record store owners, musicians and DJs, the whole thing set in Paris, of course, has its own special charm. Anyone who knows the business, has certainly experienced one or many champagne-pregnant, fogged situation like in Vernon Subutex.
A slender novel of the late nineteenth-century based in Paris. The protagonist, a precious aesthete and anglophile, prepares himself for a journey to London. He fails to accomplish the journey but reaches the conclusion that anticipation, when pursued with passion and precision, is an equal, if not greater reward. Reading the book insinuates a question that never leaves the mind - is his conclusion sublime or absurd, and if sublime what impact should the idea have upon our lives?