Almost French is an easy, pleasant read. It keeps a light hearted and humorous tone throughout, with Turnbull sharing her
adventures and unintended funny moments as she makes her way into not only French culture, but Parisian French culture, with rules all of its own.
The longer
Sarah Turnbull lives in Paris, the more she adapts to the ways of the land all the while retaining fundamental parts of who she is. She comes to term with the reality of being different, as she “… discover
a million details that matter to me -details that define me as non-French.” Off course, her new culture also rubs off on her and she finds herself transformed before her very eyes through “moments of clarity” into a savvy Parisian resident, able to hold her own with social events, un-cooperative bureaucrats, rude remarks, and other potentially unsettling situations.
Sarah’s move to Paris is prompted by her chance meeting of Frederic in Budapest, and an invitation to visit him. A year later she moves in, they fall in love, and eventually marry. She has been there ever since.
Sarah shares the hardships of a new land, not least being the language and having one’s otherwise reasonably intelligent conversation reduced to “hello” and a childish phrase or two, heightening the feeling of disconnection. Then off course there is the infamous absolutely-do-not-do-this-while-in… list, of which Sarah effectively does all at one time or another. Lastly, professionally Sarah struggles with the isolation and insecurities of striking it out on her own as an independent writer, this compounded with the issue of language. She does end up taking lessons and becomes quite proficient.
On the up side are the beauty of Paris itself and the joys of life in the city, and what it’s like to belong to a neighborhood with its particular personality, characters, smells, sounds, etc. She takes on the day to day rhythm of French life. She even joins the very particular subculture of Paris dog owners. Eventually, Sarah comes to feel a deep belonging and love for her new country and its inhabitants, having moved away from surface frustrations to a deeper understanding of its people and what makes them “the French.”
I very much enjoyed reading Almost French. The one thing I would have liked more of is her relationship with Frederic, whom we only get a glimpse of, and who seems quite sweet and gentlemanly. The book is all about Sarah and her social faux-pas and ultimate adaptation. It is, however, well written and delightful to read, and a great study of French etiquette with the love of beauty and elegance above all else. One particular moment comes to mind when Sarah quickly throws on sweat pants to run off to the bakery for fresh bread. Frederic is horrified: “Are you going out like that, wearing your gymnastic pantaloons?” “Yeah, I’m just going to the bakery” Sarah replies, to which comes Frederic’s indignation, “But that’s not nice for the baker!”
There is one last comment I’d like to make here, regarding a particular trait that is quintessential French. It is contained within 3 little words “on va s’arranger,” or “we’ll work it out.” This seemingly unassuming phrase carries much with it, signifying someone is willing to strike a deal where “an agreement will be reached that keeps all parties happy.” It is a sort of barter system that allows much flexibility of rules, laws, or other such inconveniences in particular instances. This is carried on at all levels of society resulting in quite the corruption at the higher levels of government, yet remaining particularly effective at the every day lay person’s level. Anything is possible once cordial entente has been reached, and the French can be very creative in accommodating each other to a win-win resolution. Sarah describes it well: “The thrill of disobedience is part of the Gallic baggage. Il faut oser, our renovator friend told us. You’ve got to dare.”
Ah, Vive la France!
Recommended.