Showing posts with label France. Show all posts
Showing posts with label France. Show all posts

Sunday, December 09, 2012

Peaches for Father Francis
by Joanne Harris

Peaches for Father Francis by Joanne Harris
original title: Peaches for Monsieur le Curé1
series: Chocolat trilogy (3)
I am no longer the Vianne Rocher who blew into town eight years ago. [...] I am in charge of my destiny. I call the wind. It answers to me.(23)
While I've read quite a bit of Harris' oeuvre, I've never gotten around to her most famous novel, Chocolat.2 Peaches for Father Francis is the third book to feature characters from Chocolat. I haven't read Chocolat's first sequel, The Girl with No Shadow,3 either. To my mind, Peaches for Father Francis functions perfectly well as a stand along novel, though a a familiarity with Chocolat's storyline and characters is useful to the reader.

The primary action of Peaches for Father Francis takes place in Lansquenet-sous-Tannes, the fictional French village that was the setting of Chocolat (The Girl with No Shadow takes place in Paris, which is where Peaches for Father Francis begins). A letter from her now-deceased friend Armande Voizin summons protagonist Vianne back to Lansquenet, which Armande suspects will be in need of Vivianne's help by the time the letter is delivered to her. When Vianne arrives in Lansquenet much has changed in the village. The storefront where she sold chocolate once upon a time is now being used as a small Muslim girls school or was until a recent arson attack. The primary suspect in the attack is Vianne's old nemesis (and the novel's second protagonist), village curate Reynaud Francis.

Reynaud finds an unlikely ally in Vianne, who is quick to surmise that all is not as it seems in Lansquenet.  Peaches for Father Francis is classic Harris. Her prose is gorgeous, evocative, and tinged with magic. The story, which revolves around the problems caused by prejudice within a community affected by conservatism within and self-segregation of its (Moroccan Muslim) immigrant population, is timely. The novel's themes--which include tolerance and forgiveness, was is vs. what seems to be, the inevitability of change--are timeless.

Here's a quote from Reynaud that struck me:
Of course, I know God has a plan. But in recent years I've found it increasingly hard to believe that the plan is running as smoothly as He intended. The more I think about it now, the more I see God as a harried bureaucrat, wanting to help, but crippled by paperwork and committees. If He sees us at all, [...] it is from behind a desk piled high with accounts and works-in-progress. That's why He has priests to do His work, and bishops to oversee them.  [...] But try to juggle too many balls, and this is what happens.  Some go astray. (244)

A couple other truisms from the novel:
Love is random, centreless; striking out like pestilence. (268)

Vianne: But we have the uncanny knack of focusing on difference; as if excluding others could make our identity stronger. But in all my travels, I have found that people are mostly the same everywhere. Under the veil, the beard, the soutane, it's always the same machinery. (221)
Peaches for Father Francis is a must-read for lovers of Harris and/or Chocolat. Despite its timeliness I'm not sure that I'd recommend Peaches for Father Francis as an introduction to Harris' work since it builds upon groundwork laid in Chocolat (and probably also in The Girl with No Shadow). Rather I'd recommend Peaches for Father Francis in conjunction with Chocolat.

Because we all know that I like footnotes -
  1. Because apparently Americans can't handle a little bit of French.
    Why, oh why, do publishers think the American audience needs a different title? I really do think that the confusion this causes outweighs any possible benefit. I'd much rather have an explanatory note in the front matter than an alternate title.
  2. Though, for what it's worth, I did see the film adaptation.
  3. The Lollipop Shoes was the original title. Does lollipop have some alternate meaning across the pond? (rhetorical question; see footnote 1)
disclosure: I received a review copy of Peaches for Father Francis from Viking Press via NetGalley.

Sunday, May 13, 2012

quick comments on recent reads

The False Friend by Myla Goldberg

Lured by The False Friend's synopsis, I expected the novel to be something that it's not. It is short, spare, and well-written. The novel deals with childhood bullying, the unreliable nature of memory, and how difficult it is to know those closest to us. Its revelations are myriad, but they come from unexpected quarters. I have to admit that I found The False Friend unsatisfying. I found the protagonist increasingly unsympathetic and the ending unsatisfying (even though I understand why Goldberg ended the novel the way that she did).

Feed by M.T. Anderson

Set in a dystopian future where the internet is hardwired to everyone's brain. Anderson incorporates interruptions by targeted advertizing into the narrative to help readers understand the experience of being plugged into the feed. If I had been reading Feed, I would have skipped over those sections, limiting the annoyance factor, but I listened to the audio version, which forced me to fully experience these tics in the narrative. Feed is a cautionary tale, much darker than a lot of the books that have been pushed out during this craze for dystopian (young adult) fiction.

Miss New India by Bharati Mukherjee

A bildungsroman that explores the theme of "the New India" (a descriptor I find a bit perplexing). Anjali (Angie) Bose runs away from home and an arranged marriage assisted by an expatriate American teacher who believes in her potential for a better life than small town Gauripur can offer her. Angie travels to Bangalore where she muddles along, though a series of increasingly unbelievable amount of plot twists, almost in spite of herself. The highlight of Miss New India is its cast of secondary characters.

Moonstone and Moon Rise by Marilee Brothers

I only read the first two installments of Marilee Brothers' Unbidden Magic series even though I had a review set of all four titles (Moonstone, Moon Rise, Moon Spun, and Shadow Moon). I found Moonstone to be a somewhat standard teen paranormal romance: nothing to write home about, but interesting enough to continue with the series considering the fact that I already had the next book at hand. Moon Rise, however, opens with a serious series fiction infraction: the love interest from book one (who, I might add, was a more interesting character than the protagonist herself) is inexplicably missing in action allowing both author and protagonist to cultivate a new love interest more in line with the second installment's storyline. I hate when authors do this: throwing out all the work they did getting their readers invested in a relationship. I finished Moon Rise--which, I should add in Brothers' defense, does end with a teeny bit of explanation about the absence of Moonstone's love interest--but I had no desire to continue on with the series.

Perfume: The Story of Murderer by Patrick Sueskind
translated from the German by John E. Woods


I've been meaning to read Perfume for ages. It was first published in 1985 and I've had a copy on my bookshelf for at least four years. An olfactory-genius serial killer in 18th century France. The pacing is slow (sometimes excruciatingly so), but the language (particularly Suskind's ability to put smells into words) is wonderful.  What I found most interesting  were the descriptions of craft of perfumerie: the process for making absolutes and the like.
disclosure: I received a review copy of Moonstone and Moon Rise from Bell Bridge Books via NetGalley.

Tuesday, February 07, 2012

scent and a review of
The Book of Lost Fragrances

I reviewed Chandler Burr's The Perfect Scent almost exactly two years ago (see review). Since then I've nearly finished a bottle of Hermés' Un Jardin sur le Nil, one of the perfumes whose development Burr chronicles in the book, and developed a fascination with perfume. Reading about perfume can be quit difficult because it requires fragrance vocabulary (chypre? that means: with citrus top notes and woodsy base notes) and an extensive flavor knowledge (vetiver? that's a grass native to India; no idea what it smells like) in order to describe something that is highly experiential. I follow a number of fragrance blogs and make note of perfumes that sound like something I might like, but I'll admit that it really still is all Greek to me. I'm beginning to figure out how scents I enjoy are commonly described, but I'd never be able to a purchase a perfume scent unsniffed.

A week or two ago my friend Nancy (another fragrance enthusiast) pointed me to author M.J. Rose's new book, The Book of Lost Fragrances, and the fact that individuals who preorder it can get a free sample of a perfume inspired by the novel (this promotion ends March 1, details here). I really love the fact that there is a fragrance tie-in to this book and I think it might actually get me to preorder the book if I had a budget for personal book acquisition and made a practice of buying hardcovers when they first came out. I'd already requested a review copy from Atria Books, a Simon and Schuster imprint, via NetGalley so I decided that I'd read it sooner rather than later.

The Book of Lost Fragrances by M.J. Rose

After the death of their father, Robert and Jacinthe L'Etoile inherit the family's distinguished perfume house, which is on the brink of financial ruin. Tensions between the siblings are high. Jac wants to sell two of the house's signature fragrances to keep the business afloat, while Robbie believes that he can find another way to save the struggling firm.

Family lore holds that a L'Etoile ancestor traveled to Egypt where he found a book formulas from Cleopatra's fragrance factory, which included a soul-mate perfume. When Robbie disappears after discovering what seems to be an priceless antiquity in their father's studio, ever-sceptical Jac is forced to consider the fact that the ancient memory aid might be more than just a legend and that people are willing to kill for it.

The novel's prologue takes the form of a 2007 newspaper article about a new regulation issued by China's State Administration for Religious Affairs that bans the reincarnation of Tibet's living Buddhas without permission. The Book of Lost Fragrances' narrative follows a number of different characters including a few Chinese and Tibetan throughout, but the direct connection to House of L'Etoile is made when Robbie, a practicing Buddhist, announces his plan to give the artifact to the Dalai Llama.

The Book of Lost Fragrances is compelling reading, but I think that it could have been better. I don't mind the choppy narrative, that happens when perspective changes as often as it did, but there seemed to be a bit too much in the way of digression which is problematic in a thriller where tension is so important. Additionally some things about the plot felt forced or too convenient and some of the twists were obvious to me quite far off.

I did like extent to which scent was incorporated into the story and I loved that the siblings had a special scent language that they developed as children. I also appreciated the author's note, in which Rose separates fact from fiction.

There's a description of Sleepy Hollow that I'll highlight in a separate post.

The Book of Lost Fragrances will be released in mid March.
disclosure: I received a review copy of The Book of Lost Fragrances from Atria Books via NetGalley.

Saturday, July 16, 2011

The Courtier's Secret by Donna Russo Morin

The Courtier's Secret by Donna Russo Morin

17-year-old Jeanne Du Bois was sent off to a convent seven years ago. When the sisters tire of her insolence, Jeanne is returned to court (Louis XIV's at Versailles). Stifled by the restrictions of life as a female courtier, Jeanne spends what free time she has eavesdropping on the palace's school room and sneaking off to fencing lessons with her uncle.

Jeanne's domineering father wants nothing more than to make her someone else's problem (and to make some money in the process). Evading an arranged marriage seems to be Jeanne's biggest problem. That is, until she accidentally saves the life of one of the King's Guard while dressed in her fencing uniform. When Jeanne is mistaken for a man and invited to join the Musketeers, Jean-Luc (her alter-ego) is born. Cue: endless costume changes.

I would not recommend this books to fans of serious historical fiction because I suspect that they'd be disappointed in it. I can see The Courtier's Secret being a gateway book for YA readers wanting to get into more series historical fiction. In fact The Courtier's Secret reads more like a YA novel than it does a novel written for adults. It's not just the age of the protagonist, but how Jeanne was written as well as the kind of story The Courtier's Secret is (action, adventure, romance with a young misunderstood protagonist and a mostly happily-ever-after ending) and the fact that the author seemed to play fast and loose with historical fact.

I'd class The Courtier's Secret as a nice, fluffy historical. A bodice-ripper without any real bodice-ripping. I did read The Courtier's Secret all the way through in one sitting, but found it unsatisfying and ultimately forgettable. The things that were included to add depth to the story were either overshadowed by the action or horribly contrived. And, while everything turns out fine for Jeanne, others go unpunished or unsaved.

Monday, June 27, 2011

The Maid by Kimberly Cutter

The Maid by Kimberly Cutter

She looked up at her saints in the stained-glass windows, Saint Catherine, Saint Margaret, Saint Clare... those tall, sad, lovely women illuminated by the sun. She though of their enormous love for God, their heroic lives, their miracles. How they'd found a way to be bigger, better, to do good, fight evil, escape the mud, the smallness of life. She thought they were the luckiest people in the world. (32)

I've been fascinated by Joan of Arc since I first heard her story so I was quite excited to read Kimberly Cutter's novelization of her life.

Cutter begins The Maid with Jehanne (this is the proper period spelling of her given name) incarcerated and awaiting her death. Jehanne's recollections while in prison are the source of the novel's primary narrative, which begins with Jehanne at age twelve when she first received her visions.

Jehanne may be a saint, but she's also a teenage girl and Cutter does a wonderful job of portraying her as a flawed human being. Cutter's Jehanne is impatient, she gets mad, she feels temptation and doubt. However Jehanne is not a particularly sympathetic character and it's not because she's more than a little bit self-righteous.1 I assume that Cutter makes Jehanne difficult to identify with to highlight for readers just how confounding Jehanne's contemporaries found her to be.

One of the most interesting things about The Maid is how the secondary characters react to Jehanne. Jehanne has many fair-weather supporters and it seems like nearly every character in the novel changes the way he or she behaves toward Jehanne depending on the circumstances and whether she's in favor or not.

The Maid is well-researched and the battle scenes in particular seem authentic. Cutter also includes an author's note, which provides additional context and possible explanations for some of the more confusing things about Jehanne and her story. It also justifies the sexual content of the novel.

There was one thing in particular that bothered me about The Maid. Michael and the saints who speak to Jehanne have have pet names for her. Pet names like darling and cabbage. Yes, Margaret calls her cabbage.2 It may be minor quibble, but this use of pet names was incongruous and it occurred many times over the course of the novel, irritating me afresh with each instance.

Part of the reason this irritated me so much--besides the fact that something like "my child" seems more appropriate way for them to refer to her--is that Jehanne never seems like she needs comforting endearments. Even at twelve, she is wise beyond her years. For example:
She never considered telling the priest about her voices. She knew he would hate her for it. Would not be able to help hating her for it. He was a gentle main, Pere Guillaume, a decent main even, but fearful too. Scared, trembling beneath his holy robes. You could see it in his face. The thin purple lips, the dry papery white hands, the cold, silent judgments... She knew if she told him, he would see to it that she suffered. He would not inflict the suffering himself, that was not his way, but he would tell someone who would be sure to inflict it. (33)
The Maid will be published in October 2011.
  1. Self-righteousness is something I expected from Jehanne, much more so than a desire to experience sexual pleasure.
  2. pages 14, 58, and 171. Yes, the cabbage endearment irritated me so much that I took note.
disclosure: I received a review copy of The Maid from Houghton Mifflin Harcourt via NetGalley.