The House I Loved by Tatiana de Rosnay

Image Credit: Becoming Madame

I have been a bit off the blogging world. Let's make that a bit off the online world. I have emails that I haven't responded to - one single comment from the lovely Jo of Biblio Junkie that is left pending in my Inbox - and nearly 4 reviews that I am to write.

It's been a bit of a whirlwind two months. Now that I have some time to just reflect, I realize that it's almost the end of the year. I am not sure how time just passes us by - someone once told me that they think of Time as a companion - always by their side. That's such a comforting thought. And when times change, it's always nice to think of Father Time, as not the dreadful ogre in Hardy's novels, but just a jolly old fella who laughs at the way we walk with Time. This is all a bit off the topic of this review, isn't it? Bear with me.

The House I Loved is a bit of a soporific novel. I am a fan of Tatiana de Rosnay. Her novels seem to combine readability and literature without making either of them a poor bystander. But in this, I am disappointed. I remember that I spent much of my childhood in this beautiful (to my eyes) pink-colored rambling old house that was set in the heart of Bangalore's most developed district of the time. I had fond memories of it - and now when I return to it, there is nothing there but a shopping mall. Does that make my heart wrench? No. An odd twinge. That's it. But nothing more. I am attached to people first and buildings, if any, follow only later as an afterthought. My memories of them cannot be confined to four walls. Here, in The House I Loved - Rose is very different from me.

Here's the book description from Amazon:

Paris, France: 1860’s. Hundreds of houses are being razed, whole neighborhoods reduced to ashes. By order of Emperor Napoleon III, Baron Haussman has set into motion a series of large-scale renovations that will permanently alter the face of old Paris, moulding it into a “modern city.” The reforms will erase generations of history—but in the midst of the tumult, one woman will take a stand.

 Rose Bazelet is determined to fight against the destruction of her family home until the very end; as others flee, she stakes her claim in the basement of the old house on rue Childebert, ignoring the sounds of change that come closer and closer each day. Attempting to overcome the loneliness of her daily life, she begins to write letters to Armand, her beloved late husband. And as she delves into the ritual of remembering, Rose is forced to come to terms with a secret that has been buried deep in her heart for thirty years.

An old woman writing letters to her dead husband - how intriguing can that be? And the terrible secret? Won't you guess it even before you start the book? And the Paris of 1860s - I am not sure how many people would be aware of Prefect Haussman's reinvention of Paris. I wasn't. And frankly, I didn't care. It is not an event in history that I could say I was affected deeply by. I wonder if perhaps in 10 years time, there may be dozens of books from China's own massive urban reconstruction. Yet, perhaps, a more discerning reader than me might say, hang on there, there is a story in here. Except that the story is told in so languid a fashion that you never feel for any of the characters. Things are told mainly from Rose's recollections - more on the lines of "my beloved, do you recall the trembling footsteps of our darling love." Those are not lines in the book, but just how much of the book sounds like. I am sorry, I think there are better books from this talented author.

Verdict : Read others from Tatiana de Rosnay.

Rating: 2/5