Where the Lost Generation Found Itself
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            Although the novel focuses more on straight authors, it does touch on Shakespeare and Company’s following of gay, lesbian, and bisexual writers. André Gide enthusiastically expresses his support for the bookstore. Djuna Barnes, author of the lesbian classic Nightwood, and Janet Flanner, whose New Yorker “Letter from Paris” column helps stir up interest in the bookstore among Americans, get brief mentions as customers. Of the LGBT figures who were habitués of the bookstore, only Gertrude Stein has a sustained presence in Maher’s novel. The others are talked about and make cameo appearances with a line or two of dialog. Among other gestures, Stein invites Beach and Monnier to visit her famed salon, while disparaging Joyce as “that Irishman” and staying away from the bookstore whenever Beach is working on Ulysses.

            Joyce has the strongest presence, his rise to literary fame tied directly to Beach and Shakespeare and Company. Beach’s decision to publish Ulysses after the book has been banned in the U.S. and England consumes much of her time. She goes through several typists to transcribe Joyce’s difficult handwriting, among other challenges; one typist’s husband burns a chapter he deems “filthy.” She follows the attempts of lawyers to challenge the ban as well as rogue publishers selling pirated copies of the novel, such that neither she nor Joyce realizes any of the profits. She helps Joyce find a doctor for his eye problems, comforts him when his wife temporarily leaves him, and advances him money to help pay the bills.

            One recurring theme is how poorly women are treated despite their support for male authors. John Quinn, a lawyer who fails to win a case against the Ulysses ban, grudgingly allows Beach to borrow the manuscript of the novel that he brought from Joyce while haughtily dismissing her bookstore and publishing efforts. Newspapers refer to Margaret Anderson, founder of The Little Review, as a “lady editor” after she’s charged with obscenity for serializing Ulysses. Even Joyce calls Beach a “shrew” for initially refusing to relinquish her rights to Ulysses once the ban is lifted, which would allow a large company to publish it.

            Meanwhile, the city of Paris, while much more tolerant than the U.S. of sexual expression in literature and the arts, has its own limitations. Although homosexuality is not illegal, Monnier and Beach never announce themselves as a couple. Even in the bookstore, they’re careful about who’s around them before being affectionate with each other.

            Beach comes across as a woman who lives for literature, passionately involved in books, language, and writers. She loves guiding the right person to the right book and secretly enjoys the busloads of American tourists who stop by Shakespeare and Company. However, she constantly worries about keeping the business afloat. She learns the business end of bookselling, publishing, and copyright law as the need arises, all the while smoking too many Gauloises and enduring migraines. While the historical information in The Paris Bookseller sometimes feels reminiscent of a history book, the novel’s easy style and tender portrayal of Beach and her friends make for a pleasurable reading experience.