Note: This post was originally posted on my school blog, which is just a sample site that I post on infrequently as I guide my students through their own blogging processes. These words are mine. Promise. 🙂
As an avid reader of WWII fiction, I was excited to discover The Paris Architect by author Charles Belfoure. The concept was appealing immediately: a Parisian architect, Lucien, is out of work in Nazi-occupied France and desperate for some cash. When he is approached by a fellow Frenchman with a daunting request: Will Lucien design a hiding place for a Jew within the confines of an already-constructed building?
Lucien’s self-serving nature is appealed to when his French contractor, Manet, also approaches Lucien with several jobs building armaments facilities and warehouses throughout Paris for the Nazi regime. Although Lucien is conflicted about working for the enemy (and is certainly fearful of being “found out” by the Gestapo for aiding Jews), he agrees to both jobs — the hiding place and the warehouse — on the basis of survival. He has one condition, though: Only one hiding place for Manet. No others.
As the novel progresses, Lucien’s morals are called into question on a number of occasions as he grapples with what it means to be human in a city and era dictated by monsters. Tensions rise as lives are put at risk and the Nazi regime’s chokehold grip tightens around the people of Paris.
The Good: This story was compelling and fresh. While the moral dilemmas of Nazi collaboration and fugitive hiding have certainly been broached by writers of WW2 fiction, Belfoure put an intriguing spin on the topic with his use of an architect as the main character. Indeed, in the epilogue of the book, the author notes that he actually borrowed the concept of priest holes from the 16th Century when Queen Elizabeth I reigned over England and persecuted those of the Catholic persuasion. This marriage of historic events created an engaging plot.
The Not-So-Good: Writing felt sluggish and forced in several places, especially during character dialogue. I marveled at this for a bit, given the fact that this book had garnered so much hype from reading circles that I am privy to; but upon reading the author’s bio, I discovered the writer is a historian with extensive knowledge in architecture. While his background contributed to the intriguing premise of the novel, the writing felt clunky throughout.
The Verdict: 3/5 stars. Worth a read (the story is both quick and interesting), but not necessarily a text that will stick with you forever.