You know right away that de Balzac is an author of realism when, at the start of the book, he takes you on a five page tour of the first floor of Madame Vauquer's Parisian boarding house. One immediately realizes that sanitation standards for such accommodations were seriously lacking. The dining room "table [was] covered with oilcloth so greasy that, if a waggish diner wanted to, he could write his name in it, using nothing more than his finger as a pen." We then quickly learn about the overwhelming contrast between the boarders' life style and that of aristocratic Parisian society..

The protagonists of the story are Eugene, a young and poor law student, and old man Goriot, the aging father of two narcissistic daughters who live in the upper strata of Parisian society. While many mediocre authors manage to make cardboard characters out of real people, Balzac has the task of making cardboard people real. Eugene is invited to a ball held by his cousin, a countess, and falls in love with the beautiful people and their world. He is determined to be a part of it. Vautrin, a fellow boarder, a wise street philosopher, and prototype for modern day CEOs, tells Eugene that money is everything. Eugene promptly appropriates every cent of his family's savings to buy the clothes that will allow him to blend in with the aristocracy. Soon he meets Goriot's aristocratic daughters and falls in love with one of them. These two grasping young ladies, in their need for the necessities in life (fine clothing and jewelry), have taken so much money from their formerly wealthy father that he now lives in abject poverty, sleeping on a moldy straw mattress in Madame Vauquer's boarding house.

By now I am sure that you have discerned Balzac's attitude toward the socially elite. He has no love for people who are famous for being famous. We should resist the urge, though, to shake our heads in wonder over these strange 19th century Parisians. If Balzac were alive today I am sure he would loosen his poison pen on our own celebrities whose meaningless lives are constantly being spotlighted during their fifteen minutes of fame. Balzac is a lively writer. He supposedly drank huge amounts of coffee every day, and his writing often seems to be the product of a highly caffeinated mind. If the highly stylized writing of some Victorian era writers numbs your brain you might want to dip into Balzac.

I strongly recommend that you consider purchasing the Norton Critical Edition of this novel. It provides an additional 150 pages of commentary on Balzac, this novel, and his oeuvre in general; an extra dollar or two well spent.

The Sunday Of Fiction: The Modern French Eccentric by Peter Schulman (Assistant Professor of French, Old Dominion University, Norfolk, Virginia) focuses upon the contemporary "eccentric" hero and his rebellion against a conformist world as portrayed in twentieth-century French literature. The evolution of what constitutes "eccentric" since the 19th century, eccentricities in the Universe itself, decadence in eccentricity, and more, are scrutinized in this scholarly and insightful analysis, which looks at authors such as Raymond Queneau, Jean Echenoz, Jean-Philippe Toussaint, and filmmakers such as Jacques Tati and Pierre Etaix. The Sunday Of Fiction is an impressive and seminal contribution to French Literature Studies and French Cinematic Studies reference collections and supplemental reading lists.

"Voltaire's politics", by Peter Gay, provides a comprehensive context to all there is to Voltaire. Throughout the book, the main focus is upon Voltaire's sociopolitical and intellectual development, and how he translated these ideas into his poems, plays, letters, philosophical and political writings, not to mention how these ideas were subsequently brought into practice and converted into action, since Voltaire was very much a social activist avant-la-lettre. Thus the book is not so much a biography (for such one should consult Theodore Besterman's "Voltaire"), but is invaluable as to thoroughy understand what Voltaire stood for, why he acted as he did, and how he came to develop his ideas as he did. Though mr. Gay may admire Voltaire, the book is by no means prejudiced, but rather open-minded and fair in its judgements. The fact that this book was intended as a scholarly contribution to the debate on Voltaire has not made it any more difficult to read. Again, as with prof. Gay's brilliant "The Enlightenment, an interpretation", it is very entertaining and a joy to read. This book is in particular suitable to those studying any of the social sciences, history or philosophy.

Les Miserables will be a tough read for some. Victor Hugo, in typical Nineteenth Century prose, is exceedingly verbose. His character introductions go on literally page after page, covering minute details that some modern readers will find tedious. Not only are they long, but they break the modern writing rule of "show rather than tell." When he presents new characters, we don't hear them converse or see their actions to form our own opinions. Hugo simply regurgitates a ten or twenty-page biography on them.

But this was how books were written then, and he did it as well as it could be done. The language is marvelous and rich, the characters interesting and complete, and the story sweeping and classic.

Jean Valjean, freshly released from a French prison, is caught stealing silver from an extraordinarily pious Bishop. Amazingly, this Bishop denies the silver is stolen, allowing Valjean to go free. Valjean, brutalized by nineteen years of life in "the galleys" and suffering poverty and maltreatment as an ex-convict, is so affected by this merciful act that he vows to reform. Seven years later he has changed his name and transformed himself into a righteous and contributing member of society, now a prominent factory owner and town Mayor. Life is good as he shares his profits and kind heart with the poor and unfortunate--until his past catches up with him. Valjean is then faced with an incredible predicament whose genius and complexity can be appreciated only by plowing through the full text.

Historically, this is an important literary work. Much of its political and religious sub-text may be lost, however, on those unfamiliar with the basics of the French Revolution. Like Valjean, readers will be better people for making the journey through this book. --Christopher Bonn Jonnes, author of Wake Up Dead.

Les Miserables introduces Jean Valjean a famous character in literature. This story takes you into Paris after the French Revolution and Lafayette's death, to the barricades of the uprising of 1832. It is the story of Jean Valjean who stole a loaf of bread which made him a convict. He escapes from prison to start a new life. Javert, the police inspector, who will never let Valjean go free. Fantine the prostitute who touched Valjean's heart and defined the word desperation. The Thenadiers, the amoral villians who with the other characters bring this book to its excellency. This story brings out the desire to escape the prisons of our own minds. This novel is best summed up in its title, Les Miserables, translated is "The Miserables".

Victor Hugo takes us into the Parisian underworld. He shows us the battle between good and evil. Hugo uses Les Miserables as a platform to criticize the French political and judicial systems. He probably did not expect this story to become an epic that has touched the heart for more than a hundred years.

Reading this novel gives a clearer picture of how the French government reacted to the common people. It inspires the hope of an age of rebirth and revolution. There are also many themes played out in this novel that capture your thoughts and emotions. The story battles between good and evil. Morality is also a theme that is used many times in this novel. This book is definitely an extravagant spectacle that dazzles the senses and touches the heart. I would definitely recommend this novel to anyone with an interest in the French Revolutionary times or someone who just wants a story that displays human emotions like you have never read before.

Cynics may whine at the book's large size. The text goes on for well over 1000 pages. However, within these 1,500 pages is the experience of a lifetime. This is Victor Hugo's classic novel, Les Miserables. Hugo penned this social criticism in the 19th century. But it's message of the miserable will forever wring in the hearts of those who read this tale. (It is also present in a growing number of film versions, and in the classic Boublil-Schonberg musical.)

The story is about Jean Valjean. He is a good man, yet a tortured one. He was jailed for nineteen years on a chain gang, for no other reason for stealing a loaf of bread. The book centers on his life. It tells of the lives he touches, and those who teach him a lesson in their own time.

The book also tells of the lives of the poor and desparate Fantine. Her husband left her, and she is forced to give up her child to two invalids, the Thenardiers. She is driven to becoming a prostitute and is forced to shed her pride.

Another major character is one of the most innocent adversaries in literature. The inspector Javert is a man driven by his own convictions. He was born in a jail to a gypsy. He has tried to make ammends by becoming a Christian. It is his strong religious beliefs that drive him on. He believes that Valjean is an evil man, and he will go through everything to catch the man. However, in the end, he realises the truth that it was he who had comitted the sin, and he kills himself.

Other characters in the book are Fantine's child whom Valjean saves, Cossette. Marius, a rebel who marries Cossette. The kind bishop who teaches Valjean to do good.

Hugo collected this story throughout his life. The book is filled with his experiences and his beliefs. As a boy, he was greatly opposed to the rule of Napoleon Bonaparte. His father was a French general under Napoleon, and this caused many fights between the two. These fights are quite similar to that of Marius and his father. One night, on the streets of Paris, Hugo came accross a a man raping a poor and screaming woman. The woman was the one arrested. Hugo spoke to the polie inspector to set things right. This encounter greatly resembles that of Fantine and Valjean.

Contray to what is universaly thought, the book is not about the French Revolution. The story takes place AFTER the French Revolution. In fact, the major part of the book takesplace during the student revolution of the early 1820's.

To those who scoff at the books enormous length, and go to the abridged version, you are missing quite a lot. The abridged version is a very brief, and very poiintless adaptation that contains few of the lessons of the original novel. Hogo's novel was already cut down at it's first publishing, believe it or not. To read only a 400 page book out of the 1,500 page original is denying Hugo the right to be heard.

A note on this particular translation. This translation is a new one, that was published first in the late 1980's, when the musical appeared on London and Broadway stages. It is easier to read than the prior Charles Wilbour version, but it retains every bit of writing in that version. It is unabridged, hence it's size. Also, there are selctions of the French that are still present. These have an English translation under them, but they are still wonderful, and retain the poetry of the French.

This is a great asset to any home library. I urge you to purchase it. It is something that you will never forget.

Owens' fabulous characters and his descriptions of the Island where they lived and the times in which they lived as well as his attention to the changing conditions of their intertwined lives made me feel like I was one of them. I shivered in the snow and ice with Everett, salivated when Henri explained a dish he would cook, shuddered at the torture of Father Ray and through it all, prayed that they would all be spared from the harsh environment and the many challenges each of them faced. For the historical/adventure buff, this is a terrific read. I hope there is a sequel in the making.

Early in Peter Owens' fine novel Rips, Everett, a trapper and
fisherman on the St. Lawrence River, declares the central theme of
this work: "Ain't nothin' worse than a channel current goin one
way and the wind goin the other. That rip'll kill yah." The
unknown and deceptive can spell disaster.

Surviving in the North
American wilderness of the 1750s on the frontier between Quebec and
New York required a keen understanding of wind, water, sailing, the
river, Indians, soldiers, mariners and other people of all kinds, not
to mention bugs, animals and plants, and most important, the
all-pervasive, murderous weather. This thrilling tale skillfully
weaves the lives of six people as they fight to stay alive and
together in conditions that demand resourcefulness, experience and
courage.

Everett lives on an island in the St. Lawrence with the
widowed Ella, whom he has rescued from her burnt-out cabin, and her
son, Jamie. When the novel begins, Everett is trying hard to be a
father to Jamie, help Ella through the loss of her husband and to
steer clear of the warring French, British, Huron, Mohawk and
Iroquois, as well as protect them from thieving rival trappers and
fishermen; but the outside world keeps intruding on their already hard
life.

The fortunes of Everett, Ella, Jamie and their friends Lucy,
a half Iroquois trading post owner, Henri, a deserter from the French
navy, and Gilles, a French ship's officer, intertwine and fragment in
ways that are sometimes tragic, sometimes funny, and always exciting
as they risk their lives to help one another. We come to know these
people intimately and to share the author's affection for them, and
along the way we learn a lot about the human spirit and an
appreciation for the realities of survival.

Clearly Owens has a
vast knowledge of the period and place he creates for us, and tells
his story in some of the most beautifully written scenes I have ever
read. With wisdom and compassion his muscular prose leads us through
myriad complex adventures. Whether Everett and his friends are trying
to stay afloat in crushing ice, flying like the wind across the
river's surface in an ice boat, or crawling on their bellies through a
frozen swamp with a band of Indians, the writing carries us along with
the sureness and depth of the St. Lawrence itself. Rips is a deeply
affecting and exciting novel.

I look forward to seeing other books
by this talented author.

Rips provides an exciting look at the French and Indian War from a unique perspective, inhabitants of an island in the St. Lawrence River. The book reminded me of the recent movie (and classic work) LAST OF THE MOHICANS.

REVIEWED BY LORNA WILLIAMS ....
There's a certain je ne sais quoi about a brutal murder in a peaceful country setting, a reminder perhaps that our lives, no matter how tranquil, are never perfectly safe. Consider the case of Louis Morgon, former CIA-State Department liaison, whose day usually starts with coffee, baguette and marmalade on the terrace of his home in rural France. Beyond is a sublime view of fields of sunflowers under a sky of "that particular blue which endures right down to the horizon, a color so intense and deep that you can feel the blackness of outer space behind it."
It sounds like heaven on earth and it is . . . until the morning that Morgon on the way to his sunny terrace finds a corpse, its throat neatly slit from ear to ear, on his doorstep. He telephones the one-man police force, his friend Jean Renard, who sets in motion an investigation that reaches all the way back to "the sordid world," Morgon's shorthand phrase for the messy life he left behind in Washington, D.C.
He has no wish to be reminded of that time of deception and treachery or the back stabbing that ended his career at the CIA. Deciding that living - and eating - well is the best revenge, he's bought a house in a small French town, taken up painting and cooking, planted a vegetable garden, acquired a French mistress. With the arrival of the corpse the sixtyish expatriate senses that his idyllic way of life is in danger, possibly his very existence.
So begins "A French Country Murder," by Peter Steiner, the slyly funny cartoonist whose work appears in the New Yorker, the Weekly Standard and this newspaper. Like his protagonist, Mr. Steiner has a house in France and paints, posing a second (minor) mystery: How much of the Morgon character is Steiner?
Early on Morgon guesses the identity of the murderer - and so do we. Consequently the mystery is not about whodunnit, or even why, but rather why this murder at this time? That question is most satisfyingly answered over the next 200 or so pages in which Louis returns to Washington, meets again the ex-wife he hasn't seen for years and his two estranged children, revisits the State Department (where he has a Kafka-esque confrontation with twitchy security guards), contemplates the possibility of his own death, and devises a risky plan to avoid it.
A key witness is kidnapped, and the dramatic denouement at Charles DeGaulle Airport is a cliff-hanger guaranteed to please cloak-and-dagger and mystery buffs alike.
This novel - Steiner's first - is not your typical mystery or espionage thriller, although it contains elements of both genres. The complex personal relationships tied to Louis -who is intelligent, self-centered, flawed - are as important as the plot. We learn about his failed career and marriage in a series of flashbacks in which Mr. Steiner by no means absolves his main character of blame. Louis is reading "Anna Karenina" for the first time so it seems natural that Tolstoy's well-known opening about happy and unhappy families triggers his first plunge into the past.
New insights into his former profession accompany his memories. Although he had been ambitious as a young man, "Louis now gauged the depth of his obliviousness, his staggering naivete, by the fact that he had preferred working at CIA headquarters in Langley, to working at the State Department in Foggy Bottom." After his betrayal he questions the effect of a life of spying on the personality. "Despite the secretive and duplicitous nature of their business, he had found the people at CIA headquarters possessed of a peculiar and eccentric innocence . . .They all seemed to believe that they could make deceit and intrigue their livelihood and still lead normal lives."
The other characters are a varied lot, from gendarme Renard, a small-town Inspector Maigret, to Solesme Lefourier, Louis' outspoken, down-to-earth mistress, to a powerful Washington bureaucrat, a future American Secretary of State (which one does Steiner have in mind I wonder?) who Louis once found in bed with his wife.
Oddly it's not the cuckolded husband, but the adulterous lover who is the humiliated party and who bears a grudge against Louis for years - a reversal that is not entirely convincing. True, that future State Department big shot is pudgy and unattractive, but readers may wonder why he doesn't simply rejoice in his good fortune at overcoming these handicaps (as any sensible Frenchman would) instead of being filled with self-loathing. After all, what's a little flab if power is the ultimate aphrodisiac?
This incident and the decades-long resentment it inspires are instructive of the differences between French and American attitudes to sex, as is a second bedroom scene, notable for truth telling, in Louis' house in France.
"Do all Americans have such peculiar notions about marriage and love?" Solesme asks Louis after he wonders out loud where their affair might be heading. "You seem to imagine that every passion must eventually become public, that it must be officially sanctioned. In fact everything always seems to have to lead somewhere for you. What a busy and purposeful people you are. This has already taken us where it is taking us. The fact that it might not be going anywhere else, does that frighten you?" (It does, but only a little and not for long.)
In these parlous times I hope that it isn't doing the author a disservice to point out that his love affair with France and all things French is everywhere evident. In an early flashback Louis retraces his long hike from Paris to Spain on his first visit to France, allowing Mr. Steiner to include lyrical descriptions of the French countryside and a brief history of 'la musette,' the nostalgia-driven dance music played on an accordion that for many foreigners still symbolizes France.
Not least, Mr. Steiner's characters are constantly serving up mouthwateringly good French meals (rabbit cooked in red wine with garlic and shallots; roast pork with prunes and spinach; coquilles St. Jacques with roasted potatoes) that made me want to stop reading and start cooking. Or go back to France.

Peter Steiner's new book is a tightly written, suspenseful political and psycholgical thriller that keeps one "hooked" to the end. Peter's concise writing style and great ability to select exactly the right word to express detail give one a greater appreciation of his gift as a writer. It rises above other books of the genre because of the fully developed characters and Peter's wonderful ability to convey his love for France and the French countryside. Additionally, it is informative about French history, customs, and culture. I highly recommend anyone's sitting down with this captivating book for a sophisticated thrill and vicarious journey to France.

Peter Steiner may be familiar to you, though not as a writer. He is a cartoonist; his work appears in such diverse publications as The New Yorker and The Washington Times. Knowledge of his work in his heretofore chosen profession will not prepare you for A FRENCH COUNTRY MURDER, his first novel. This is an altogether serious work, combining elements of Agatha Christie and Robert Ludlum while, at the same time, striking off into different territory.

A FRENCH COUNTRY MURDER is, more than anything else, a study of Louis Morgon, an American expatriate living quietly in rural France and a willing slave to the quiet routine he has constructed for himself. That routine is shattered with the discovery of a dead body at Morgon's literal doorstep. We learn that Morgon, a former U.S. State Department liaison with the CIA, has a past that he refers to as "the sordid world" and that has abruptly intruded into his present. Morgon almost immediately knows the meaning, if not the circumstances, that led to the placing of the body at his front door. Steiner, during the course of A FRENCH COUNTRY MURDER, frequently moves between Morgon's present and past, revealing how Morgon, an up-and-comer in the State Department, came to lose his career, his marriage and family, and live in a small French village with his paints, his casual friendship with the village gendarme and his affair with his next door neighbor. All of these things will be changed with A FRENCH COUNTRY MURDER as Morgon, who has been driven quietly but irrevocably mad by life, sets about to trace the murder back to its source in order to prevent his own demise.

Morgon is not the only unforgettable character Steiner creates herein, however. Solesme Lefourier, Morgon's neighbor and paramour, is possessed of a strength that is only hinted at through most of this fine novel but that is demonstrated profusely by the telling of three events: one occurring in the past and the other two in the present. The past event, a telling of how Lefourier dealt with the marriage of a suitor who had jilted her, is alone worth reading A FRENCH COUNTRY MURDER. Though it takes little more than a couple of paragraphs to relate, it has such a ring of truth to it that it infuses the rest of the novel with a reality to which most works of fiction only aspire.

A FRENCH COUNTRY MURDER is an unforgettable tale of mystery, madness and romance from an unlikely source. It can only be hoped that this novel will receive the attention, respect and success it so deserves in order to encourage Steiner to tread further into the waters of fiction. Very highly recommended.

--- Reviewed by Joe Hartlaub

I read this book after watching the movie in my Modern European History class. At the time, we were studying that particular era in France. I loved the movie, and if I hadn't seen it, I don't think I would have been able to read the book.

The story of Germinal is about the struggles of the working class in a coalfield of France during a time when industry was taking over. Lives were changing, and this class suffered greatly. The Maheus are the family that is the main focus of the story (the struggle). Etienne Lantier is a young man who comes to the coalfield searching for a job. He represents the guiding force throughout the novel. A complicated mass of events are occuring, and Zola does a great job making it sound realistic. By the end of the novel, few have survived, but that adds to the reality of the story. I love his writing style, which is illuminated by imagery and stunning metaphors.

I found Germinal difficult to read, so if you don't read a lot of these types of books I recommend that you watch the movie first- you'll follow it a lot better. I found it hard keeping focus on the main theme in the midst of all the characters and happenings. But all in all, it is a classic and I would suggest it to anyone interested in european historical literature.

Why do we have labor laws? Why do we accept nuclear energy and the oil industry? Why did the rich countries become so prosperous? "Germinal" shows you why. Often considered Zola's greatest work, it is indeed a truly epic story skilfully blended with penetrating political and economic analysis, not least of the mixture of motives that push people to stand up for their rights or those of others. Take John Steinbeck's "The Grapes Of Wrath", multiply it by ten or twenty and you won't even come close to this book. Deeply moving, shocking, but ultimately uplifting, for in the wreckage of the miners' crushing defeat after their strike Zola, for once, offers a glimmer of hope. Better to have fought and lost than to have done nothing. The seeds of a new, fairer world have been sown. And one day........

Germinal, like many works grouped together as examples of literary naturalism, is not a novel one generally reads for enjoyment. It portrays the dark and oppressive world of 19th c. French coal miners and their attempt to free themselves through political awakening. The main character, Etienne, whips the miners into a socialist frenzy, leading them to strike against the company. As events unfold, Etienne begins to care less about the everyday details of the miners' existence and more about larger issues of socialism, anarchy, and world revolution. Etienne leaves the book a student of politics who has graduated. The miners return to their jobs -- with the hint that they will rise again. Germinal alludes to the works of Marx and Darwin, but detailed knowledge of those works is not required to get the point. The events are dark, sometimes base, and sometimes brutal. This is a book to be read, pondered, and (hopefully) discussed rowdily over beer. Start it and stick with it. It is not a particularly hard read, but it is a classic work that is not for wimps. Recommended.

A joyous exploration & celebration of the infinite gastronomic pleasures of France. Ranging far from his adopted Provence, Peter Mayle now travels to every corner of the country, armed with knife, fork, & corkscrew. He takes us to tiny, out-of-the-way restaurants, three-star Michelin wonders, local village markets, annual festivals, & blessed vineyards. We visit the Foire aux Escargots at Martigny-les-Bains--a whole weekend devoted to the lowly but revered snail. We observe the Medoc Marathon, where runners refresh themselves en route with tastings of red wine (including Chateau Lafite-Rothschild!). There is bouill-abaisse in a beachside restaurant in St.-Tropez. A search for the perfect chicken that takes us to a fair in Bourg-en-Bresse. There is even a Catholic mass in the village of Richerenches, a sacred event at which thanks is given for the aromatic, mysterious, & breath-takingly expensive black truffle. We learn which is the most pungent cheese in France (it's in Normandy), witness a debate on the secret of the perfect omelet, & pick up a few luscious recipes along the way. All the glory & pleasure of the French table in the most satisfying book yet from the toujours delightfully entertaining Peter Mayle.

I read this book by Peter Mayle before I discovered any of his previous writings and was hooked immediately! French Lessons is the latest by this engaging author on his life and experiences in the South of France and is necessary reading for anyone interested in French fare, life in France or just an incredible experience (vicarious or literal) in International travel. I love this book, as I did all others by the same author, bought many copies this last holiday season for all of my friends and family and Everyone felt the same way as I! You really need to read this book, as well as "A Year in Provence" and all the other wonderful editions by Peter Mayle. The only complaint I can voice is that there are not enough other volumes available today, as this is one of those books that you do not wish to ever end and you just can't get enough of Peter Mayle!

It's an assignment that would make even the most jaded writer pick up his pen: Travel around France and report back about the oddest, most unusual ways that it celebrates its cuisine. Frog legs, snails, truffles, poultry, and, of course, its wine. Sheer heaven!

Peter Mayle accepted the challenge and here's the perfect book for curling up on the porch alongside a glass of cool refreshment. "French Lessons" charts a year in Mayle's life as he travels across France, describing with a combination of droll wit and wine-soaked facts (many times, he couldn't read his notes the day after some festival) how a country blessed with not only a variety of climates and cuisines, but also a people willing to spend large amounts of money on their enjoyment thereof.

I am a longtime fan of Mayle's writing, back when he was writing about pastis and other subjects for "European Travel & Life" magazine, but I hope not an uncritical one. I was disappointed in his account of his return to France in "Encore Provence," and "Hotel Pastis" did not engage me at all. Sometimes, I wonder if, with skills learned in the advertising trade, where he was an executive, he doesn't succeed in giving the French a gloss it doesn't otherwise deserve. Certainly, when discussing chickens from Bresse, the only poultry to have its own label (called appellation contrôlée), he touches only in passing, how most chickens we eat are raised (if we may call it that) in horrible conditions. Not for nothing is it called factory farming.

But "French Lessons" went down like a lightly garlic-flavored escargot. This is a book which celebrates eating and drinking well, and is a balm to the soul as well as incentive for the appetite. Needless to say, it should only be taken in short dollops, after a good meal.

Not everything has to do with cooking. There's the Le Club 55, a restaurant in Saint-Tropez where the Beautiful and mostly undressed people meet to eat and be seen, where an expert on plastic surgery was able to tell which surgeon worked on which lift ("Cosmetic surgery has its Diors and Chanels, and when looking at a suspiciously taut and chiseled jawline or an artfully hoisted bust, the informed eye can identify who did what.")

Then there's the Marathon du Médoc, where, amid the serious runners, jog several thousand more in fancy dress amid the châteux of Bordeaux, where wine is offered at the refreshment stations, and the winner earns his weight in wine. Rounding out the book is celebration of frog's legs on the last Sunday in April in Vittel, where 30,000 people will eat five tons of the stuff. If you want to know what they taste like, Peter will inform you down to the last bite of the marrow.

And if you wish to attend these fetes, addresses and other notes are listed at the back of the book.

"French Lessons" represents a return to form for Mayle. So long as he is willing to go out and hunt up new stories to tell, he'll remain an entertaining and informative writer.

This is not a lighthearted book. In fact, it is a bit grim in parts. However, it is really interesting and I do recommend this book to anyone who likes travel stories that aren't sugar-coated. I didn't know much about French Africa before reading this book, so I learned a lot and found his experiences in the different French African countries was intriguing and unusual. A good travel book, about an area where most of us will never go.

"French Lessons in Africa: Travels with My Briefcase Through French Africa" is a collection of business-travel experiences and observations in ten countries in Francophone Africa (Benin, Burkina Faso, Cameroon, Congo, Cote d'Ivoire, Mali, Niger, Senegal, Togo, Zaire). Biddlecombe careens from business-class hotel and international conference center to rural village and farm, and describes his encounters with everything from white magic in Benin, locusts in Mali, to lost luggage in Congo. He shares his encounters with Africans of all sorts: government minister, customs officer, doctor-entrepreneur, gold smuggler, chicken farmer, soap manufacturer, and cassette pirater. He shares his thoughts, knowledge, and conversations covering African leaders, economic development, the CFA franc, colonization and independence, health and nutrition, literature, music, and architecture. All with a great deal of wit and humor. This is no introductory text, but anyone with some basic knowledge of Africa will find this book informative and enjoyable.

Francophone Africa is one of the areas of the world that no one writes much about. Biddlecombe, however, has succeeded in conveying the feelings and conditions of this area very accuratley. This is not just a dry travel book however. Biddlecombe sprinkles his narratives with many hilarious anecdotes to further the reader's understading of why the people in this region act the way they do. Great book.

This is a handy and inexpensive little book, and you should get it if you have any dealings with Latin or the four languages this book talks about: Spanish, Italian, Portugese, and French.

Besides just good data, this book has good exercises to work out, making it very useful in a classroom setting.

However, one thing about this book: it's called /From Latin to *Romance* in Sound Charts/ [emphasis mine], and the blurb on the back says "This handbook offers a synopsis of the regular changes that Latin words underwent in the course of their evolution into *the* modern Romance languages (Italian, Spanish, Portuguese, and French, with their English cognates)" [emphasis mine].

So you'd think that it'd be about /the/ Romance languages, all of them. However, it is about /just/ Italian, Spanish, Portuguese, and French.

That's fine and well, but I hear PERSISTENT RUMORS circulating about a country (a whole country!) called "Rumania", where they speak Rumanian, a language that does seem to be descended from Latin -- and that makes it a *Romance* language, too, putting it in the set of *the* Romance languages. And yet, it's not covered in this book.

The same can be said for for Sicilian, Sard, and Catalan. And hey, while we're at it, what about Dalmatian, Provencal, Galician, Asturian, Occitan, and the Rhaeto-Romance languages? Or even the Romance creoles like Haitian and Papiamentu?

It's like going to a restaurant, ordering a four-course meal, and getting pancakes and iced tea. I really like pancakes and iced tea, but well, it's still not a four-course meal!

Frankly, this kind of misrepresentation is at least lazy ("oh, we could get someone to add Rumanian examples, but who has the time?"), and at worst dishonest ("if we say it's about Romance in general, more people'll buy it!"). Could one get away with this in anything but philology? Could a geologist write a text called /Geography of North America/ covering only Ohio, Kentucky, Indiana, and Illinois?

Granted, /From Latin to *Western* Romance/ is not as interesting a title as /Geology of the Ohio River Drainage in North America/, but it's honest. If they wanted to be able to call it, /From Latin to Romance/, they should have added coverage of the rest of Romance!

So, what should be done:

1) /you/ should get this book. It's handy and instructive about the four languages it's actually about.

2) /someone/ should come out with a new edition of this book that adds data from /at least/ Rumanian, so this won't be about just Western Romance.

In the meantime, I /also/ recommend Posner's /The Romance Languages/.

What a neat book, and what a neat price!

This midsized paperback illustrates the regular sound changes that occurred as Late Latin developed into the major Romance languages.

After an introductory section about the development of Classical Latin into Vulgar Latin, the author lists 43 'rules', or regular phonological changes. He devotes about 2 to 3 pages to each rule, giving examples and explanations. For example, rule 9 treats the consonant cluster 'CT'
Latin nocte, Italian notte, Spanish noche, Port. noite, French nuit, English cognate nocturnal.
Latin lacte, Italian latte, Spanish leche, Port. leite, French lait, English cognate lactate.
Latin factu, Italian fatto, Spanish hecho, Port. feito, French fait, English cognate fact, feat

For each rule, there are a dozen or so examples. Each rule ends up with an exercise asking the reader to match up vocabulary. (The author thoughtfully gives the answers to these exercises.)

A definite help for those learning Latin or a Romance language. Heck, even if you're not learning a Romance language, it will increase your English vocabulary. And it's just plain fun to browse through it. Hoya Saxa!