Painting the Town Red

   651  
“It’s my small act against the mass market movement,” says Penelope Le Masson, gesturing at the 450 square foot haven of classic and contemporary literature behind me.  “This is my act against thinking that people like to buy the same shoe from the same place.”  If you weren’t specifically looking for The Red Wheelbarrow bookstore in the Marais district, you may very well miss it.  Aside from the deviant red trim on the building, there’s not a lot to indicate that this place is a small act against anything, except maybe illiteracy.   In truth, The Red Wheelbarrow is as simple and honest as its William Carlos Williams namesake poem, a far cry from the void of bestsellers and coffee selections that seemingly define its American counterparts.  There are no plushy chairs.  There are no racks of magazines to secretly peruse with little intention of buying.  There are no nametags, no member discounts, no promotional web site.  There’s only Penelope, her co-owner Abigail, a piano, hand-picked books, familiarity, kindness, and warmth.  Maybe that’s all you really need.     The Red Wheelbarrow is the adult incarnation of a child’s dream.  “I’ve always loved to play shop,” she says.  “When I was very young I used to put prices in my books.”  Raised on Hornby Island, a tiny spat of land between Vancouver Island and British Columbia mainland in the southwestern portion of Canada, Penelope worked in various bookstores, perfecting her vision of her own shop.  At the age of nineteen, when most were worrying about final exams, Penelope carefully collected stock and built her own second-hand book store from the ground up.  “Nobody said I could do it,” Penelope confesses.  “But I made more money there than in my other jobs.”  Round Again Books lasted three years, giving Penelope invaluable experience and the fuel to dream bigger.   By 1990, things had changed.  What had once been a book-pricing idealist had now evolved into a veteran degree-toting entrepreneur.  Armed with a passport, a suitcase, a knapsack, and a one-way plane ticket, Penelope set out for the city that inspired Hemingway, Fitzgerald, Joyce, Stein, and Voltaire.  Working odd jobs ranging from babysitting to translation to framing, Penelope slowly began creating a new life.  “I earned twenty Francs an hour in my first job,” she explains.  In U.S. currency, twenty Francs would have been just under four dollars.  “I went for a week without eating once.”  But, like always, diligence and persistence paid off and Penelope eventually landed a job teaching business English.  “When you work as an English teacher, you make lots of money in comparison to starving to death!”   With steady income, Penelope’s resolve to have a place of her own in both the business and personal sense became stronger.  She comments, “Some people are just born teachers and for me, it was just a way to pay rent…it can be a trap living here teaching English, not doing what I want to do.”  After marrying jazz musician Jobic Le Masson, she split her time between creating a business and creating a family.  “Every time I’d have a baby, I’d say, ‘ok, I’m really going to do it this time, I’m really going to go for it.’”  Penelope used the time and money teaching afforded her to focus on conquering French bureaucracy, securing a loan, and creating a viable business plan.  She perfected her French, took night classes offered through the Paris Chamber of Commerce, found a location, gained the approval of banks, government officials, neighbors, and finally, eleven years, one marriage, and three babies after first setting foot in France, The Red Wheelbarrow opened its doors to Paris’ English-speaking population.    A year and a half later, co-worker and friend Abigail Altman bought into the project and a second location opened just around the corner.  This year The Red Wheelbarrow, a now permanent fixture in the most fashionable section of the trendiest city on Earth, turns four and Penelope Le Masson begins to breathe a long awaited sigh of relief.  “Every act you do in your life is political.  Everything that you decide to do is your lifework and that should contribute to people on the planet.  I believe in books…I believe in education.”      so much depends upon   a red wheel barrow   glazed with rain water   beside the white chickens.  A young woman browses the extensive Jane Austin selection.  A couple murmur quietly over a book on Parisian history. A girl comes in, receives a cell phone call, hangs up, and within seconds, she and Penelope are chatting like old friends.  The couple begins to laugh and I perk up my ears.   In minutes, all five of us, all former strangers are openly discussing overzealous French men, New Zealand, and the unfortunate rise and fall of the band Ace of Base. In the adult world, making friends, finding community, creating a family, starting a business, carving out your own place in the world isn’t easy even in your own country.  For a foreigner in France, it’s damn near impossible.  “I think that Paris is so beautiful,” Penelope says casually.   “It’s nice to think that part of it is yours.”  The Red Wheelbarrow is located at 22 rue St. Paul, Metro: Saint-Paul. For a list of scheduled speakers, contact Penelope LeMasson at 01.48.04.75.08
  • SUBSCRIBE
  • ALREADY SUBSCRIBED?
Previous Article Moulin Rouge Buzz
Next Article Creuse’s Visible Past