I loved Schmitt's The Woman with the Bouquet, liked The Most Beautiful Book in the World, but was ultimately disappointed in this one, which I gather is one of Schmitt's better known works. Monsieur Ibrahim is an elderly Arab shopkeeper in a dingy street in Paris, who befriends a nearly-orphaned Jewish boy and changes both their lives forever. The dialogue between the two characters retains the same flavor of sweet magic that is part of Schmitt's other stories. The problem, I think, is that 'sweet magic' isn't a strong enough framework for a story with obvious geo-political echoes like this one.
Oscar and his pink lady have a similar problem; in this case, a twelve-year-old leukemia patient, his candy-striper, and letters to God are far too much weight for the style to bear. Really, I can't imagine many authors who could handle that set-up. As Marsha once said about an author who shall remain nameless, "Reading that is like pouring Karo syrup down your throat."
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