When The Girl Who Reads on the Métro first came in to stock in the book shop, I more or less immediately designated it for my Christmas list. The cover and the title were telling me cosy-comfort-read, perfect for that in-between stage of Christmas. I have sold three or four copies to customers on the same basis.
There is something so inviting and charming about The Girl Who Reads on the Métro. It has some lovely marketing on the cover, and a completely different direction from ‘The Girl on/at the [insert here]’ thrillers that flooded shelve space three or four years ago.
The setting is Paris, and it features a quirky, dusty, blink-and-you’ll-miss-it book shop. The owner is eccentric. There are endless brews of tea. And of course, the books are the real stars of the show. The novel promotes the idea that books have a will and a way of finding their readers. Bookworms everywhere release a happy sigh…
Having settled down with it on Boxing Day, it was all that I wanted it to be. The main character Juliette has a lot of depth. She realises her wings have been clipped and broader horizons beckon. Combined with her gift for pairing books and readers, a journey of self-discovery awaits. This is the kind of book that makes you want to open a bookshop, jump in a campervan or start handing out books to strangers on public transport… or maybe all three!