April in Paris is not April in Paris because someone thought it rationally. It is irrational to think of April in Paris in the idealistically romantic terms which have so helped the French tourist industry. Even so it wasn’t the French tourist industry that created the romantic feelings that are so recognize the world over. “Oh I love Paris in the fall.” “Paris in the spring time.” “Paris in the rain.” Frankly, as of this writing I haven’t ever been to Paris, but some times when it rains I like to imagine myself in Paris drinking coffee. And when I do, a bit of Paris gets into my heart, and the hearts in Paris feel it too.
The reason for the magnification of Paris is a heart reason that can not be quantified. The reason that it can not be quantified its because it is radically subconscious and endemic to our hearts. Our idea of romanticism creates a Paris that has nothing to do with cause and effect. The effects however that Paris has upon our hearts are genuine, even for those, like me, that have not been to Paris. In the same way that most of the books that I love and feel I have never read. Lord’s Byron Don Juan is a particular favorite, I have bought it used and new at least three times, honestly I haven’t read it, but I feel that I have read it and that I understand the entire book, even as I have only fancied a few brief passages. It is an elegant book, well written, strongly versed, it is ironic, enchanting in a harsh way, it moves me to laughter and lightness of being, when I touch Byron, I feel like all the cares in the world have been lifted from me through senseless irony. Byron sometimes is too much, I think he takes his wit to seriously. Don Juan as a human character leaves a lot to be desired, and the intertwined political and religious and romantic subplotting is much overwrought with senseless meaning. Still I love Don Juan, I have friends that love Don Juan, I have friends that even love Byron’s Don Juan, but not Byron; and of all my friends probably none have really read Byron, though I admit even this I could not prove, but we all love each other through Byron.
