From the New York Times bestselling author of Sarah’s Key and A Secret Kept comes an absorbing new novel about one woman’s resistance during an epoque that shook Paris to its very core.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 … 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. Tatiana de Rosnay’s The House I Loved is both a poignant story of one woman’s indelible strength, and an ode to Paris, where houses harbor the joys and sorrows of their inhabitants, and secrets endure in the very walls…
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A thoughtful read. Very unpredictable.
After loving Sarah’s Key, this was not what I expected. I’m not even sure I liked it all that much while I was listening to the audio. Yes, the writing and narration were good, if you didn’t mind listening to what, at the time, sounded like little more than the rantings of an old woman. Reflecting on the story, however, changed my perception, and gave me a unique portrait of psychology.
You have a female protagonist attached to a house set for demolition. The setting is 1800s Paris, so there’s also an atmospheric tone to time and place. The woman is turning 60, so she’s not old by today’s standards. Her husband and son have been deceased for years and she’s estranged from her daughter. All that remains is her beloved house on rue Childebert that she refuses to leave. Hidden in her basement as she awaits the inevitability of destruction, she writes a letter to her husband, reliving the memories during the years in their home.
Early on, there’s the foreshadowing of a secret, which is what held my attention. You might guess it early on, or not until the end when it is revealed. Secret aside, what fascinated me more than anything was the choice the woman made to remain in her house. I love that about the story. A woman with the conviction to do it her way, rather than follow convention. The other thing that fascinated me was the beloved son who dies of cholera after playing in a nearby fountain on the rue Erfurth. He dies of a bacterium associated with contaminated water. Yet, she opts to take a stand against the progress that will modernize and create better sanitary conditions, reducing or eliminating the disease that stole her son.
“The house was all my life…. The house bore the story of our love… The house was my link to you, forever. By losing the house, I would again lose you.” Wonderfully imagined with a thought-provoking theme! This is the longest review I’ve ever submitted.
If you loved Sarah’s Key and are looking for a book similar to it in its power and lingering effect on your person, do NOT read The House I Loved. This is a completely different type of novel and I applaud de Rosnay for ability to conjure stories and then write in ways that compliment the plot and befit her characters.
On the surface, The House I Loved appears to be a quaint, simple glimpse of a small segment of Parisian life during the 1860s as Paris was literally deconstructed as it moved toward modernization during the reign of Napoleon III under the purview of Georges-Eugene Haussmann. The protagonist, Madame Rose, refuses to give up her home, set to be razed along to make way for larger more spacious boulevards. Other reviewers have called Madame Rose weak, superficial, submissive, and even dithering. Perhaps on the surface these may be apt descriptions of Madame Rose, but take a moment to scratch beneath the veneer and you will find a woman who is resolute, has conviction, and immeasurable bravery. Madame Rose is a product of her times: she is the perfect embodiment of who she is supposed to be: middle class Parisian of the 1860s – demure, retracting, devoted to her husband and her home.
Sounds boring, I know. But that is where de Rosnay shows her true command of her craft. As you read and take the time to truly contemplate the nature of Madame Rose, the depth of her being starts to emerge. Coming into her own after the death of her beloved Armand, Rose provides the reader with her memories in the letters she writes alone, by the light of a single candle. The reader can almost hear her soft whispers that declares the fondest of memories and the confesses the depths of her despair. Why was she such an ambivalent mother to Violette yet an over-doting one to her son? Why is she so content to live her life in her husband’s house, caring for him as his mind begins to fail, and keeping her world so very small? These are questions that de Rosnay deftly conjures in the minds of her readers. In her letters, Madame Rose bears her soul; it is here, if you look, that her complexity is revealed and the answers to such questions become apparent.
The House I Loved is a fast read but not a simple book. It is not riveting, empowering, nor thrilling. It is understated, gleams beneath its simple surface, and shines as a testament to de Rosney’s creative brilliance
It was a charming and beautifully written story about mid-19th Century Paris when the Emporor had the city’s architect/engineer tear down and replace the aging infrastructure. Featured is Rose a lovely woman , life & love for her home scheduled to be torn down;….w/a secret revealed at the end. Thoroughly enjoyed.
Before the rebuilt broad boulevards of Paris earned it the name “City of Light”, there were the narrow, often dark cobblestone streets of a city recently emerged from medieval times. A city where an ancestral home was exactly that, a place where generations of one family were born, lived, loved, and died; a place where familial sorrows and disputes became entangled with the happiness and joys of those who lived within. While most people see a house as a place of transience there are those to whom a house is so much more; they may even look upon it as having a life of its own.
Such is the Bazelet House on the rue Childebert and these are the feeling of Rose Bazelet, the last proprietress of the house, who promises her husband Armand, on his deathbed, to protect the house from the wrecking ball.
When the Prefect at the direction of Emperor Napoleon cuts through the city, destroying entire neighborhoods in the name of progress, Rose and her neighbors fight back. But their protests fall on deaf ears. In the end, rue Childebert is destroyed and everyone relocates, except Rose. Outwardly she appears to relocate but moves to a secret cellar beneath the house. During her furtive stay there, surrounded by her precious letters from Armand and others, a treasured set of books, and several candles for illumination Rose recalls her life in Bazelet House via a series of letters to her beloved late husband; in so doing she gives up a secret that she has harbored in her heart for thirty years. In a bittersweet ending Rose finds peace.
Like Rose Bazelet, this reader has had similar emotions when leaving a long-time residence. That last walk through empty rooms, recalling past events, is the closing of one chapter before moving on to the next. Unlike Rose, my former residences still stand, however.
From the opening lines, the reader is drawn into the neighborhood surrounding the Church of Saint Germain and the vibrant personalities who live and thrive there. They will soon become the reader’s friends. The blossoming romance of Rose and Armand, their steadfast love, is epic. Brilliantly detailed and documented, this is an enduring story of life and death, love and hate, war and peace. It is “the story of [a] house and its inhabitants” that “will remain forever”. “We lived here, and despite the snares that destiny threw our way, we were happy here. And no one, mark my works, no one can ever take that away from us.” Highly recommended.