Just after I read Stefanie’s (So Many Books) review of this book it appeared on the ‘new books’ shelf at my library, so I took it as a sign that I should read it. This is what I call a marshmallow book because it’s the sort of thing that’s lovely now and again – but you wouldn’t want to live on it. Perfect light holiday reading or for when you just want to escape somewhere different and dream.
It’s set in France, in the Cevennes mountains where Catherine, an English woman has bought a remote granite cottage with the intention of starting up a sewing business. She’s a divorcee with grown up children and at last it’s time for her to do her own thing. But she hadn’t bargained on the amount of red tape that she encounters in France nor the heavy rainfall that the area gets and she begins to wonder if she’s done the right thing in settling there.
This book is well written and has a lot of deja vu moments if you’re a certain age, with guilt about a sick/dying parent and having to clear out the family home featuring in it.
Catherine’s cottage is close to the road which Robert Louis Stevenson travelled and wrote about in his book Travels with a Donkey in the Cevennes which was first published in 1878. I read it years ago and seem to remember that it’s quite funny. It’s a shame that hardly any of Stevenson’s books are read nowadays, except for Kidnapped of course.
Rosy Thornton has written into her book modern day tourists who pass by on their quest to replicate the 120 mile trek with their version of Modestine the donkey. It’s quite a touching nod towards Stevenson, I think.
This is a wish fulfilment book for a lot of English people who have a love/hate relationship with France. In general the English love France but don’t like all the French people in it and the French people hate the English – unless there is money involved. I’ve always taken the precaution to wear a Saltire (Scottish flag) brooch whenever I’m in France, but then you do run the risk of being kissed in the street by complete strangers, it’s a war thing.
Anyway, back to the book. Nit-picking alert! It isn’t terribly realistic as Catherine completes at least three large tapestries/needlepoints really quickly and if you’ve ever done any then you’ll know that it’s a slow process. The book has quite a lot of typos, downright mis-spellings and words completely missing but for me the most annoying one was the spelling of the town of St Andrews, in Fife, because all through the book it has an apostrophe s – which of course it shouldn’t have. I live nearby so I should know but so should a proof-reader.
On the other hand this was a pleasant change because I had given up on modern fiction as a succession of books that I read at one point all had the same story line and ended up with the main character, aka A Trollope, running off with another woman’s husband, in the guise of romance. It isn’t what I call romance, in fact, I can’t say what I do call it, apart from a diabolical liberty. And I cleaned that one up!