Muriel Barbery's The Elegance of the Hedgehog

Muriel Barbery's The Elegance of the Hedgehog is both a thought-provoking and moving book, one with a bittersweet ending. I confess that I found the first half or so of the novel, translated from the French, a bit tedious. But it's one of those books I've learned to stick with, for the reward lies just ahead. I also had some trouble at times following who the narrator was and more importantly keeping up with who's who among the supporting characters.

The book deals with two self-taught, closet intellectuals, one a middle-aged concierge and the other a 12-year-old girl who lives in the hotel where the concierge works and also lives. The concierge works hard to maintain the stereotype that concierges are boring non-intellectuals. The child, from the start of the book, reveals her intention to commit suicide on June 16. (James Joyce fans, is it a coincidence that's Bloomsbury Day?)

One passage in the book brought back memories, both fond and sad, of my own. Near the end of the novel, Renee, the concierge, is preparing to get dressed for the wonderful Japanese man whose own life has a profound impact on both her life and the child's. "I smeared my lips with 1 layer of 'Deep Carmine' lipstick that I had bought 20 years ago for a cousin's wedding," Renee says. "The longevity of such a useless item when valiant lives are lost every day, will never cease to confound me."

That passage reminded me of a small, inexpensive perfume stick my paternal grandmother, Mammaw, had. At some point, she either gave it to me, or I found it among her possessions after she died. I held on to it and its fading scent for years and years. I may even still have it somewhere. I don't recall discarding it. I know I couldn't seem to throw it away. It was a memory, a smell, of a loved one long gone, and I didn't want to give up that memory.

Read the book; it's not a cookie-cutter creation. It's just that, a creation and a thoughtful one.