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I could really go on a rant about this book but i'll try to be reasonable. The main character, Madame Michel (MM), is so unsympathtic, so pretentious, so caught up in reverse snobbery it's impossible to relate to her. I loathed her and was unable to get past page 100. She is a concierge in an apt building inhabited by wealthy Parisians, who she believes are all so shallow they could not possibly deal with her extreme intelligence. Apparently, in Paris one must be ignorant to be an acceptable concierge so MM hides her intelligence so as not to upset anyone's preconceived notions about the social order. (She mentions the fact that she is an autodidact about four times every chapter, just in case we forgot.) This ruse extends even to the food she eats. She buys and cooks the type of food that a lowly concierge would eat, so the residents can smell it, and then she feeds it to her cat. For herself, MM makes a secret, sophisticated (and presumably non-smelly) meal. As far as I can tell, there is no bigger snob in the entire building than MM. The other main character, a 13 year old genius, is similarly unrealistic though slightly more likeable. The problem with her is she is just so damn boring I can't care about any of her insufferable "profound thoughts" that the reader must endure every other chapter. If I could give this book no stars, I would.