I just learned that Mathias, a close friend of my friend Lili, died on the operating table last night after these horrific attacks. My heart goes out to his mother, to his family and friends.
This is our area when we're staying in Paris, and has been for many years. I've never been to the Ba-ta-clan, but we've spent a lot of time in Le Carillon and Le Petit Cambodge, and other bars and cafés on the nearby rue Lancry. The area was very important to my godfather, and my novel Chanson is based here, where Roger lived for a little while with his German lieutenant partner during the Occupation. Roger always shuddered when recalling the horrors, saying that he hoped he never lived to see such horrors again. He never did.
Last night, around a dozen of my friends and loved ones living in this area were reported missing. By this morning, thank God, they had all been accounted for.
Paris is my second heart, but it's now a broken heart.