|
Travels both intrepid and trepidatious, around the world and around the block |
"A Year in the Merde"A Rauncy Riposte to "A Year in Provence"by Kelly Monaghan Stephen Clarke's A Year in the Merde chronicles the misadventures of a young British marketing man hired to help a French company launch a chain of Brit-themed tea shops. He experiences French charm, French inefficiency, sublime French food, slimy French corruption and political intrigue, a seemingly endless series of strikes, and more sex than he can shake his weakened British stick at. At first blush it seems to be yet another of those memoirs (Peter Mayle's A Year in Provence, preeminent among them) that allow the reader the vicarious pleasure of living among the unfailingly charming, but inevitably infuriating French. In fact, the cover makes a subtle design nod to the cover of Mayle's megahit. But whereas Mayle's portrait is loving, Clarke's is decidedly more jaundiced. "The Merde," by the way, is not a chi-chi residential quarter of Paris. Since this is a family-friendly web site, I will refer you to your nearest Larousse for a translation. Suffice it to say, Clarke takes his title from the protagonist's predilection for fouling his shoes with poodle poo. The metaphor seems to extend to much of French society, especially in the foibles of the working world, both labor and management. A first-hand account of getting paid to live in Paris and see France from the inside, as it were, is certainly a welcome addition to the shelves of everyone who has ever harbored a similar dream -- and that I rather suspect is just about everyone. Unfortunately, first impressions are misleading. Although the book certainly reads like a first-person memoir, we quickly discover that while the author is Stephen Clarke, the narrator is Paul West. Confused, we glance at the author bio and discover that Mr. Clarke is not a fast food marketer but a Paris-based The jacket copy is not much help, either. At one point the book is described as an "almost-true tale," so perhaps it's fiction. But smaller type announces that "all names have been changed to avoid embarrassment and possible legal action," so perhaps itís fact after I suspect that, in fact, what we have is a fictional plot line that is window dressed with the actual experiences of a number of British expats and perhaps Mr. Clarke himself. But thatís just a guess. What is indisputable is that A Year in the Merde is an enjoyable and occasionally laugh-out-loud read with a healthy dose of raunchy sex thrown in for good For the casual reader, the book will be most helpful for the occasional Paris survival tips. For example, order un demi to get a normal sized beer, ask for un express instead of un espresso, ask for un noisette when you want your espresso with a bit of milk, ask For those lucky enough to get a job posting to Paris, I suspect the book will prove less helpful. Not everyone can expect a corrupt boss who will let them live rent-free in an apartment with his nymphomaniacal daughter. As for all that sex, I have my doubts as well. I have come to the conclusion that when autobiographical accounts of romantic trysts start to read like a young man's sex fantasy, they usually are. Paul West certainly seldom seems to lack for drop-dead gorgeous Since A Year in the Merde seems neither fish nor fowl, fact nor fiction, I found myself taking everything in it with un soupcon de sel. I encourage those who pick it up to be less ornery and simply enjoy it for what it is -- a fun, quick read with some good laughs and the occasional nugget of valuable intelligence to be filed away for your next visit to Paris. Didn't find what you were looking for? Try a Google search.
IF YOU FIND THIS WEB SITE HELPFUL, PLEASE CONSIDER |
||
|
The
Intrepid Traveler |
|
|
|
