In a country obsessed with the philosophy of time, paper never quite lost the argument. Walk into a Parisian bookstore in late August — La Hune in Saint-Germain, the labyrinthine Gibert Joseph on Boulevard Saint-Michel, the elegant stationery floor at Le Bon Marché — and you’ll notice something the rest of the world quietly stopped doing about a decade ago. The front tables are stacked with paper agendas. Not as a nostalgic flourish or a hipster reissue, but as a…
