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The Magic of Provence: Pleasures of Southern France
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Customer Reviews
Rating:  - Pretentious
The author is like my father-in-law when he describes the fish he caught: he lies about their size and the quantity, but I couldn't care less about fishing anyway.
the author is self-important and pretentious.
some of the stories were amusing, but I also had impressions that the most interesting ones weren't true. And the beginning when the author is aristocracy-struck and tries to curtsy, is laughable but not in a funny way. She comes across as simple-minded.
I mean, the woman believs in ghosts and ouiji board!
I didn't analyze the receipts because I cook from real cookbooks, I just skipped the pages.
The only parts which were interesting where the ones I knew she was making her stories up. Perhaps she should try her hand at fiction?
I was hoping for a true account of life in Provence but found instead a collection of fables.
Rating:  - Condescending and without charm.
The author's barely concealed condescention towards her Provencal neighbors is annoying enough, but her lack of any charm or distinction relaying her experiences is really a bore. Read Peter Mayle instead --or ANYONE ELSE FOR THAT MATTER,and save your money. You wouldn't want to live next door to this writer, in Provence or in Bel Air California -- her other home. Not exactly your average tourist! And oh my,the recipes! At the end of each chapter is a recipe of food vaguely mentioned in the text. Tasteless, trite recipes bound to fail since they lack any semblance of detail, even, sometimes, the baking temperature. Obviously the lady was trying to cover all bases. Too bad she struck out on all of them.
Rating:  - Blundering onto the pages
This west-coast American has just returned from cutting an ambitious swath through France and Spain. While in Provence we took a day trip out of Aix to sightsee a random grabbag of villages on the southern slope of the Luberon range. At one particularly handsome and substantial hill village we made our way up the usual array of steep narrow streets and steps to a grand chateau that seemed in rather good, livable condition. We passed through an arched portal, under a heavy steel lattice gate operated by chain and counterweight, and into an inner courtyard with a view that went on forever. We were in luck, for within seconds a tour of the chateau was about to begin. However, luck did not extend to local language skill needed to tag along. The gracious host suggested we could perhaps find a better use of our time. Somewhat puzzled at the exchange I stepped back out into the sunlight and the door shut behind me. Having been relieved of any effort to accomplish something touristy, my mind relaxed and drifted. And it drifted to a book I had read a couple years back that I found rather entertaining and well written. A book about the trials and pleasures of moving to Provence, but with a rather welcome deviation from the smugness of the Mayle formula. The author impressed me enough that I followed up with another one of her literary works. Could this village and these people be from that book? Standing there in the courtyard of the chateau I reviewed the evidence, pondered the possibilities, considered the coincidences. Yes, it seems that we had blundered onto the pages of one of my favorites, Yvone Lenard's Magic of Provence.
Rating: - Disgusting book
I struggled quite a distance into this book because I love France, but finally I gave up. I found the author to be a poor writer, found her stories to be so farfetched that I decided that she was not being truthful, found her values to be very superficial, found her to be describing things that were not worth reading about--e.g., the car trip to St. Tropez, and her apparent fixation on sex--e.g., her negative descriptions of the way females dress and act in St. Tropez, and her imagings about her husband's indiscretions with the Prince's wife and his dalliance with the girls in the village. Who cares if it happened! Who cares what the author imagines about her husband! You might think her husband would care and the Prince and the Princess would care. I doubt that there even is a Prince and Princess. And if the picture of the author half in a shadows, on the book cover is an example of her professional photographer husband's work, forget it.
With the car trip to St. Tropez, I couldn't take anymore. I took the book back and got a refund.
Rating:  - A Totally Delightful Read
The author makes the colors, flavors and warmth of Provence so vivid to the reader. I have never been to Provence but will definitely make the trip. I also will refer to this book again for the great recipes that were included and also to reread and savor the many neat stories shared by Yvone Lenard. I've given my copy away to friends just returning from the regiion to enjoy and will be purchasing another for my library.
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