"French Lessons" is vintage Peter Mayle. While I enjoy Mayle's fiction as a light and fun change of pace, I really think he is at the top of his form when writing non-fiction. "French Lessons," like the classic, "A Year in Provence," is simply charming. There is just no other way to describe it. The book charms and beguiles you; you lose yourself in it and time just flies. No one seems better able to describe the "real" France than Peter Mayle. And it shows. Most definitely.
Just as with Mayle's previous non-fiction books, I found I could relate to just about everything he wrote in "French Lessons." I had had similar experiences in Provence, in Paris, in the Loire, in Burgundy. One can learn about more than food in this book; Mayle also details the social customs of the areas and the idiosyncrasies of the people. I learned there are people who attend Mass to give thanks for the truffle, a festival where snails are eaten by the dozen and washed down with Gewurztraminer, and an actual "cheese hall of fame" in the town of Livarot. The person honored with the award from this particular hall of fame is expected to eat as much livarot cheese as possible. In another such festival, frogs' legs are the celebrated foodstuff. The annual celebration of the bleu footed poulet in Bourg-en-Bresse and the Marathon du Medoc made for especially hilarious reading.
Mayle takes us from region to region and from town to town...all in the name of great food. We visit festivals, restaurants, chateaux and so many town squares, I lost count. Mayle's descriptions of the festivals and his historical notes are particularly interesting, especially to anyone who is planning to visit France. After reading this book, he or she will surely come away knowing what is, and what isn't, authentic French food.
Throughout this book, Mayle writes in his characteristically charming, witty and urbane manner. His is a style that suits the subject matter of this book perfectly.
I do think that those readers who have actually traveled to the south of France at least once, will find more to love in this book than those readers who are unfamiliar with the area. But familiar or not, Mayle and this book will certainly charm. "French Lessons" is a witty, and sometimes hilarious book that is guaranteed to ensure an enjoyable afternoon in the sun.
The writing is fast moving, the tales amusing, the dialogue funny, and the characters always entertaining, including Mr. Mayle himself as represented in this first-person narrative.
Mr. Mayle has as a surveyor of French oenology and gastronomy succeeded on two levels: 1) The telling of interesting tales that make you want to pack your suitcase and get to France; and 2) He provides enough factual information--names, places, addresses, contacts--to make that happen for you.
Short on recipes (there are a couple of culinary principles he sets forth for making a chicken dish and a mussles dish, for example) or on particular criticisms or insights regarding what the chef actually did to make the dishes he experiences so delicious, he nevertheless, succeeds in his foremost goal--to make the reader read his book.
Finally, Mr. Mayle, this writer is on to you. It's no secret that you're no expert on food, wine, or, really, the culinary history of France. So why are we reading your book with such faith? What is your level of expertise to discuss these topics? At bottom, Mayle's a good eater, a good drinker, and can spin a damn good yarn. If this along with some occasional factual notes that one could find in an encyclopedia is all one needs to eat and drink for free and publish a selling book, then Mr. Mayle might very well be a genius. Or a con artist. But when you finish the book, satisfied but hungry, what is the difference, really? I enjoyed the book, and so will you.
Instead of life in Provence, this tome focuses on dining throughout France, covering areas from snails to frog's legs to truffles to the world-famous Michelin guide. Mayle isn't short on anecdotes, but the book reads a bit more like a collection of restaurant reviews, albeit very entertaining ones, than a memoir.Simon Jones was initially a jarring change from the voice of David Case that I had previously considered the voice of Peter Mayle. Jones lacks the precision of Case but has a folksy, conversational tone that Case's "snooty, cruel voice" lacks.As I said, still an enjoyable book but not quite the marvelous collection of stories and anecdotes that the Provence books are.
