The Elegance of the Hedgehog

Hmmm ... Well ... This book was difficult for me. Truth be told, I almost put it down a handful of times. And then I would pick it back up, put it down, pick it up. It wasn't until I reached page 100-ish that my loathe/love for the book began to change.

Basically, the premise is this: Madame Michel is the fuddy-duddy, stereo-typical concierge in an ultra-posh hôtel (condo) in the center of Paris — and she goes out of her way to fit this role. However, in reality she is an upper-crust, aristocratic, highly educated, and deeply philosophical woman, who refuses to show this side of herself to the outside world — namely the tenants of the building.

Paloma is the 12-year-old girl who is the daughter of one of the wealthy families residing in the hôtel. She, like Madame Michel, is incredibly intelligent, yet terribly jaded, and hell-bent on ending her life by her 13th birthday. She keeps a record of her 'Profound Thoughts' and a 'Journal on the Movement of the World' where she records all that is wrong with the world, and why she has very little reason to continue living in such a place. Paloma annoyed the daylights out of me, and continued to do so almost until the end of the book. But really, I can only handle so much teenage angst.

The story is told, in turn, through these two ladies as they ruminate on all that is wrong with human nature and, therefore, the world. And they make many a fine point. But along the way, they have moments where they are so bitter and so horrifically judgemental, not to mention flat-out wrong, that it is a little hard to stomach.

And then Kakuro Ono moves into the building and changes everything. This man is literally the only person who looks at Madame Michel and sees her for what she is — elegant. He knows that her outward projection is a sham and an exhaustive performance. And that is when the tragedy of the books strikes me. How many of us go through life feeling invisible? Or just not seen in a clear and accurate light? How many of us have those days where we realize that when someone looks at us, what they see is only what they want to see, and not what we really are. Everyone of us has those days. And I suspect that every one of us is guilty (at one time or another) of making false assumption after false assumption about someone, of whom, we know nothing. It is just the way it is — that's human nature.

Yet, at the same time, there is a certain comfort living in obscurity. Being able to slip under the radar allows for freedom. After all, it is rather dangerous to 'put one's self out there', as they say. You are setting yourself up for failure, judgement, and all the other things that Madame Michel and Paloma dissect so clearly for us. On the other hand, putting one's self out there enables us to grow and to find happiness. It enables us to accept our own humanity.

I was completely shocked by the ending of the book (by the whole book, really), and I'm not sure why. Barbery sets it up perfectly — and it makes complete sense. Of course that is how it must end. However, not to worry, I will not give the ending away here. I will let you react to it as I did.

As I finished the last page and closed the book, I could not help but say to my husband, who was snoozing away on the couch, 'Hmmm ... I think I may have loved this book.' And I really mean it.