Many-splendored Paris again sits for her portrait and she appears as a rough mother of the people- in their cradle of sprawling squalor- seen through the idealistic, embittered eyes of Georges, a ""delinquent"" teen-ager. Barely fifteen, Georges lives all alone in a packed tenement. He has run away from home and his life, practically speaking, already seems hopeless. Georges in his loneliness is often comforted by a visit to the tenement rooftop where he watches the oncoming night and the false dawn of neon lights. With the same sense of solitary interest he watches the long black shadows of fate fall across the lives of those who live on the Boulevard; the Italian family whose young daughter is already being ""cased"" by the local roues; the warm and womanly dancer who gives her art to the night clubs and her love to a punch-drunk bum; the old man who will not even give his name- eaten in death by the cat who was his only friend. It is a world where comfort and beauty are minimal, yet in the midst of his worst despair, Georges fights back with his one real weapon- a stubborn young love of life. . . . It is not a very original novel- but it's well written, vivid, and honest.