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386 pages, Hardcover
First published August 9, 2011
A late bud has opened on the white rose I planted by the arch on the grassy terrace below the main house. Its perfume is exquisite: musky honey and spun-sugar and orange blossom, and its petals in bloom have the soft luster of baby skin...Characters: voices from the past who blend in with voices from the present in a contemporary version of Dahne Du Maurier's Rebecca.
...Madame showed me how to make a powder to perfume the house by taking lavender flowers, thyme flowers, and mint leaves, and letting them dry, then adding several cloves and pulverizing them before leaving out in open bowls.
...Sweet, pungent, woody, spicy, musky, astringent; none of these alone is capable of evoking the unique smell we all know so well.
... the family was cursed, and the tragedy foretold; spirits danced in the darkness and shared the rooms with the living; strangers materialized out of nothing; a mysterious and dreadful stench was emanating from the courtyard of the big house; lanterns flickered and died for no reason. An atmosphere of fear grew and took hold.On this side of the divide the reader can be found, trying to figure out who the deacons was the narrator in each segment of the book. It gets easier and much more fascinating as the story of a mansions unfolds.
All of which goes to show how dangerous it is to assume connections where there are none, to link events that have no link, to want tidy storytelling when real life is not like that, to draw too much on the imagination when it is so often misleading.Beautiful prose, atmospheric setting, slow-moving, but wonderful information on the Provence region of France. I love old houses, so I loved this one too. The mystery and stories floated from its history as the plaster fell down and the holes in the soil multiplied.