Sacre bleu! The re-release of Jules et Jim is making me feel very rive gauche. Oh, to slip down sun-drench cobbled streets, puffing seductively on a Gitanes cigarette held loosely between fingers painted a vivid red and flecked with crumbs from the morning's croissant. To muse reflectively on Sartre, sip l'eau menthe, and spend the afternoon going on strike and faire l'amour.
