The Paris Bookseller

Adrienne functions as Sylvia’s partner and key source of support throughout her journey. Although the two women have some similarities, they are in many ways foils to each other. Adrienne feels everything in life fully and completely, embracing life in ways that make Sylvia cautious. Upon their first meeting in Adrienne’s shop, Adrienne greets her from behind the register by asking if she had found her “heart’s desire,” and “Sylvia smile[s] at the typically French passion in the woman’s plainly spoken words” (5). Adrienne also encourages Sylvia to trust herself more fully and acknowledge her own needs and desires. However, Adrienne is also the first to voice her mistrust of James Joyce. Sylvia’s seemingly unthinking devotion to him becomes a point of contention in the relationship between the two women, with Sylvia seeing Ulysses as a road to validation and Adrienne seeing the novel as the thing that is holding her back. Despite this point of disagreement, however, she does continue to support Sylvia loyally on her path.

While Adrienne’s journey is subtler than Sylvia’s, it is largely characterized by appetite—for food as well as for life. One of her distinguishing features in their group of friends is her ability to work with food and produce wonderful, magical meals for her loved ones. In contrast to more conservative American women, Adrienne happily expresses her adoration for this practice and enjoys eating without censure. This appetite extends to both her professional life and her love life. While Sylvia pursues Ulysses, Adrienne writes her own essays and poetry as well as publishing French literary journals from her bookshop. This shows that she always needs some sort of mental stimulation and outlet for her creative, driven energy. Her emotional appetite also becomes apparent in her sexual practices with Sylvia. While Sylvia is open and supportive, she quickly becomes aware that she doesn’t have the creativity that Adrienne has, or the same needs to be filled. Adrienne is constantly in a state of experimentation in all elements of her life.

As both women grow older, Adrienne holds onto her youth more effectively than Sylvia does. Because the narrative is not told from Adrienne’s point of view, it is difficult to say if this is a conscious effort or a natural result of her passionate energy. Sylvia’s sense is that Adrienne has been less worn down by anxieties and self-awareness in the face of their changing times. Some of this distance between them may also be an unconscious result of Sylvia’s close relationship with Joyce, which Adrienne vehemently disagrees with. In the end, Adrienne follows her natural progression of need and finds solace with another woman during Sylvia’s absence.

James Joyce is a larger-than-life literary figure who takes up an impressive amount of space in the lives of all the women around him, for better or for worse. Usually, his influence has a more negative effect than a positive one upon the women who support his literary endeavors. Somewhat ironically, only one of these relationships is romantic in nature; the others are codependent in different ways, resulting in unique unions that have much in common with unhealthy marriages.

Sylvia’s first experience of Joyce is through his words, which she reads in a serialized literary journal. She becomes a genuine fan of both the writer and his work, which puts her at a distinct social disadvantage when they finally meet in person. In contrast to his explosive work, James Joyce presents himself as restrained and refined, exhibiting neither excessive self-deprecation nor excessive confidence. When he and Sylvia first meet, he is in a committed common-law marriage and is also a father. Thus, he strives to project a respectable, family-forward image. However, it quickly becomes clear that he is comfortable taking advantage of those around him to the point of being guilty of extensive psychological abuse. His lack of observing widespread marriage conventions can be seen, through the lens of the time, as a way of taking advantage of his partner Nora, for he enjoys all the benefits of having a wife without needing to offer her the security of legal marriage in return. While Nora herself doesn’t take issue with this arrangement, his choice can be construed as a lack of honor in light of the more conservative social constructs of the time period.

He also uses the patronage (or, more precisely, the matronage) of the wealthy Harriet Weaver, as well as Sylvia’s generosity, to fund his lifestyle. Both women intend for their assistance to allow Joyce to create art, yet he also invests in valuable paintings, furnishings, and celebrations that ultimately detract from his work. He grows so accustomed to this treatment as normal that when it is compromised—particularly when Harriet voices concern over his addiction to alcohol and when Sylvia refuses to negotiate her contractual terms—he sees such forms of opposition as targeted attacks against him. While this single-mindedness may play a role in the brilliance of his literature, it also skews his perceptions of the reality around him.

Sylvia’s mother, Eleanor Beach, is one of the most dynamic characters of the novel. She begins as an inspiration to Sylvia’s path and eventually undergoes a tragic character arc that ultimately leads to her death by suicide. Eleanor loves beautiful things and tries to create a life that reflects this beauty; she entertains, embracing an aesthetic that is fundamentally Parisian and passing her tastes on to her daughters as well. In Cyprian, these values manifest as a shared love of the valuable and the ornate; in Sylvia, they arise as a hunger to create a version of Paris that feels like home.

Throughout Sylvia’s journey, Eleanor visits her often and becomes a tether between her old life and her new one. While there are hints of Eleanor’s internal struggle throughout the novel, the depths of her depression come as a surprise to her family. Both her depression and her compulsion to shoplift are manifestations of her growing sense of powerlessness; without a driving force of her own, she resorts to increasingly desperate ways to give herself the illusion of control. Finally, she takes back her power and agency in the only way she has left and dies by suicide. This devastating event becomes a major turning point for Sylvia and encourages her to reconsider her own relationships and evaluate the person she is becoming.