Paris is a future history (mainly of France) set in 1963. It was written in 1863, just after the French publication of Five Weeks in a Balloon, and was rejected by his publisher as "too unbelievable." The manuscript was believed lost until 1989 when Verne's great-great grandson found it in his attic. It was published in France in 1994 and translated into English in 1996.

The story isn't good. A young poet, Michel, tries and fails to make his way in a world that no longer appreciates art. Literature, painting, sculpture, music, etc. are all obsolete. Science and technology dominate the culture and the economy. Much of the story consists of Michel wandering around Paris repeatedly asking "why is this different from the way it was in the 19th century?" followed by long expositions by people he encounters. Yawn.

Thankfully, the story really isn't the draw of this book. Verne's image of the 20th century is surprisingly prescient. Fax machines, elevated trains, calculating machines and even the electric chair make brief appearances in the story, as do pollution, over-crowding and the decline of two-parent families.

The real bite of the novel is in it's radical critique of capitalism. The effect of art's demise is felt throughout society, resulting not only in Michel's personal troubles, but in a definate lack of luster in the lives of all the characters.

I am rating the book a 0 because I appreciated it for its technological foresight and political commentary; but Michel's story was slow, disjointed and ultimately boring. I reccomend the book for its historic interest, but not for its tale.