And then thereвЂ™s the leaving вЂ“ the sometimes painful process of leaving a place for somewhere new. We are thrust into new situations with new people that cause us to rethink our positions and the way we envision ourselves and our lives. We are often prompted to change and adapt quickly, to revise our assumptions about both ourselves and others. This is a thought-provoking question, particularly for those of us that travel. How do we know what to keep, and what is just an old idea we had about ourselves? We pick up bits and pieces from each of them, and hold them all in ourselves.ДЄnd sometimes we hold on with both hands to things we really want to release. These places that we take into ourselves and make part of us, so that we are made of all the places we've loved, or of all the places where we've changed. In one of the most affecting passages, she writes, 'Environments inhabit us,' Varda said. ItвЂ™s a sentiment any ex-patriate or nomad will relate to strongly. But she also talks about the struggles of being in a new place, and the difficult journey of figuring out who you are and what you want while also being far from home. And in the memoir sections especially, she writes of the glorious feeling of independence such an action can bring. She discusses the debt that the modern flГўneuse owes to feminist pioneers, who made it possible for women to walk the streets alone in many parts of the world. Environments that вЂњInhabit UsвЂќД®lkinвЂ™s book covers a lot of ground (and spends perhaps more time than I would have liked on close readings of works of literature and film). Piazza SanвЂ™t Agostino in Arezzo, Italy, at dusk. In recent years IвЂ™ve been traveling to Italy, a country that rewards flГўneuse-ing almost as much as Paris, with its piazzas and hidden archways, its food and clothing markets, and its vibrant public life, even in smaller towns. Since those days as a child and teenager longing to amble through a city on my own, IвЂ™ve tried to take the time to do just that anywhere new IвЂ™ve visited. Every turn I made was a reminder that the day was mine and I didn't have to be anywhere I didn't want to be. Anything, any detail that suddenly loosened itself, would draw me towards it. I drifted wherever they looked interesting, lured by the sight of a decaying wall, or colorful window boxes, or something intriguing down at the other end, which might be as pedestrian as a perpendicular street.

Walking with them on the streets, I would feel the energy of the city, and long to break off on my own and become a part of it.Д®lkin puts this feeling into words regarding her first extended stay in Paris: In those six months, the streets were transformed from places in between home and wherever I was going into a great passion. I remember loving this feeling even as a child, when I would leave my small town and go with my parents to Chicago or New York. I feel myself become one in a crowd, watching people and storefronts, experiencing a day in the life of a place half a world away from where I usually spend my days. Walking the streets of a city, particularly in a foreign country, is when I feel the most moved by and connected to a new place.

I was excited to read FlГўneuseВ when it came out last year, because the concept of the f lГўneuseВ gets to the heart of what I find so exhilarating about travel. A (blurry) photo I took of New York City at night while flГўneuse-ing. Yet Elkin writes with such insight about the ways we experience place that it will likely appeal most to lovers of travel and travel literature. ItвЂ™s not a travelogue, nor does it aim to get inside a particular place. But women fl ГўneursВ exist, too, and ElkinвЂ™s book weaves together the stories of famous flГўneuses вЂ“ Jean Rhys, George Sand, Martha Gellhorn and AgnГЁs Varda, to name a few вЂ“ as well as chronicle her own history of traveling and wandering.ДЇlГўneuse: Women Walk the City in Paris, New York, Tokyo, Venice, and LondonВ is not your typical travel book. As a scholar of French literature, Elkin was struck by the fact that men have historically been the ones depicted as walkers, wanders and ponderers вЂ“ so much so that a word was created for them. A FlГўneuse, as defined by Lauren Elkin in her book of the same name, is the вЂњfeminine form of flГўneurВ , an idler, a dawdling observer, usually found in citiesвЂќ (pg.

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