Comics Shopping In Paris II

I was in Paris last week, so I went comics shopping again. I mean, there’s a lot of nice comics shops in Paris, of course, but I was looking for shops that had a selection outside the normal Delcourt/Dargaud/etc mainstream stuff.

So I visited Un regard moderne, and it’s very nice indeed.

I guess the selection is, like, one quarter comics and the rest are books (with a lot of art books).

It’s cool! Highly recommended.

So what did I get?

Lots of stuff!

Some very small-press stuff…

Some very elaborate (and screen-printed stuff).

More alternative things…

Joost Swarte!

A screen-printed huge magazine from Le dernier cri.

With four different booklets stapled inside.

Fab!

And just a lot of interesting-looking stuff I’m looking forward to reading.

I went back to Aaapoum Bapoum, which is a huge store, and yet again I only jogged through quickly, because there was so much stuff I wanted to buy, but I’m limited to what I’m able to carry up the stairs here…

See?

Lots and lots.

Like this book by Muñoz and Sampayo — Sophie — that I didn’t know existed.

Look! It’s awesome!

And this one, drawn by Anna Brandoli.

It looks fantastic! And both of these were ten euros or less! *gasp* *swoon* *faint*

Actually, this trip to Aaapoum Bapoum reminded me of a recurring dream I’ve had since I was a teenager: I discover a new comics shop, and I go in and I find new books by Hergé, Pratt or Tardi, and I’m like frantic; I’ve got to read them all! Muñoz/Sampaya or Brandoli is kinda like that — mais je rêve!

This edition collects all the Blotch stuff — I’ve read the first half of this before, but not in French, so there.

And this looks fun…

And gotta buy Gipi.

Anyway, good shop.

I was in the neighbourhood, so I stopped in at the extremely confusing Album BD shop. I mean, it’s confusing since it appears to say “MomieBD” on the front (and does that mean “mummy”?) and not AlbumBD.

And if you look up the locations on the web site, you see that it’s… er… OK! The locations are where the puffins are? Sure, that makes sense for AlbumBD/MomieBD… a puffin… Anyway, three locations near each other.

And the shops are perfectly nice, but the selection is very, very mainstream, from what I could see.

Finally, I went to Bulles-en-vrac (which I guess means “bubbles whole sale” or “self picking” (like with candy) (“bubbles” as in “speech bubbles”), and it was also nice.

Mostly mainstream things, but they had this shelf of more oddball things.

I got a little stack.

I haven’t seen one by Yuichi Yokoyama before.

Looks cool.

And the storytelling in this looks very interesting…

But most importantly: Fuck ze tourists.

Looks like some kind of masterpiece!

Anyway, that’s Paris for you.

I’m still on the lookout for shops that have more oddball comics — these things are really hard to google. Anybody know of a shop in Paris with a big selection of Le dernier cri, for instance? And Bries? And so on.

Book Club 2025: The Paris Review #251

I read this on a plane a week ago, but I don’t remember much about it…


This interview was interesting, but it didn’t really make me want to read her books.

It’s an unusually topical issue. Well, as Paris Review issues go.

The excerpts from the book by Miriam Toews were pretty fab.

So there you go.

The Paris Review #251 (1970) (buy new, 3.73 on Goodreads)

Book Club 2025: The Drowning House by Cherie Priest

As with a couple of other books I’ve bought lately, I started reading this book and then started wondering more why on Earth I’d bought it. But this time around I remembered! I read Robin Hobb’s review and though that this sounded like a diverting read. Even though she says “I consider Cherie Priest a friend of years. I don’t think that influences my review.”

But oh my god it’s so awful. On a sentence by sentence basis, it’s just the absolute worst. Even so, I hoped it would pick up, and I soldiered on for 25 pages, but the action is perhaps even more annoying than the prose, and I know how unlikely that sounds.

So I gave up.

The Drowning House (2024) by Cherie Priest (buy new, buy used, 3.43 on Goodreads)

Book Club 2025: Death of a Spy by M. C. Beaton and R. W. Green

I almost forgot that I finished this book on the plane the other day. I’ve been reading it on and off for a few months in the in-between times, and the reason it took so long is because it’s pretty bad! It’s pretty bad!

M. C. Beaton is, of course, dead now, so this R. W. Green person is continuing her two enormously successful book series. I mean, successful commercially. I don’t think this series was very good even when Beaton was alive, but it had its charms. Green tries to emulate Beaton’s pell-mell ADHD writing style, but he’s just not that good at it. Instead he resorts to dropping in Wikipedia excerpts whenever he has to describe something in Scotland, and he tries to make more “respectable” plots than Beaton ever bothered to. So here we have spies and drug gangs and American agents and eh.

It’s really bad, and I’m never reading one of these zombie series again.

Death of a Spy (2024) by M. C. Beaton and R. W. Green (buy new, 3.81 on Goodreads)

Book Club 2025: Those Endearing Young Charms by M. C. Beaton

This is the final ebook I read on the recent trip I took — a romance trilogy of sorts.

This has the most preposterous plot of them all, and the heroine in this one references a Regency novel with a similar central conceit — but I didn’t check whether that was something Beaton made up or not.

While reading this one, I started thinking about what the charm of these books really are. I mean, they’re not well-structured, and they’re repetetive. Sure, Beaton writes well on a sentence by sentence basis — she has a nice flow — but nothing else really convinces.

I think the charm is that reading these books is the closest you can get to observing somebody daydreaming. You know when you (especially as a teenager) would construct a fantasy world, and then you’d have something fun happen, and then something dramatic, and then something fun again — but you’re not making an effort at a consistent story or anything. You’re just daydreaming.

That’s what these books feel like. Just an inventive mind spinning idly until you have about as many pages as you need to call it a novel.

When it works, it’s very charming. When it doesn’t, it’s excruciating. This one works.

Those Endearing Young Charms (1986) by M. C. Beaton (buy used, 3.58 on Goodreads)