There was a lot that was very interesting and worthwhile about this book, and it was perfect to read in tandem with Hilary Mantel's A Place of Greater Safety. However, there were four very annoying aspects of this book which prevented me from thoroughly enjoying it: 1. The author spent an ungodly number of pages describing furnishings and paintings. You ever heard that old saw, a picture is worth a thousand words, man? He spent a whole paragraph describing a chair, in tones of capital E Ecstasy, and I had no clearer picture in my mind of the chair after than before, the nature and limitations of the written word being what they are. 2. The whole book was soaked in unmeasured sentimentality. I mean, I get it, it's a lost world, and it's easy to see lost worlds through a rose tinted lens, but Jesus, man. 3. To that point, a lot is made of the utter freedom of Americans in the 1780's and '90's, and the general lack of poverty and very, very, very little is made of, oh, you know, SLAVERY. He also extols the freedom and equality of women in America at this time without even touching on their political and economic disenfranchisement. Oh, they got to mind the shops while their husbands were out whaling?! Fantastic! Why did we ever demand the vote, then? 4. He spouts off a lot of prices for things throughout the book, with head-spinning inconsistency. Sometimes it's sous, sometimes livres, sometimes shillings. All have appeared in the same paragraph. Every now and again he throws the reader a bone and puts something in modern dollars for reference but it's a rare enough event to highlight how rare it is. So while I learned heaps from this book, and while it enhanced my understanding of a historical novel, it was also at times an infuriating read.
This enjoyable book is like an extended conversation about life in the Ancien Regime on the verge of the Revolution. It can frustrate the reader who wants deeper insight (with sources) but it conveys a picture that, read in juxtaposition with other books, is reliable.
It is also interesting for its portrayal of French influence in the nascent United States of America.
Okay so. This book is old, as history books go. It doesn't cite its sources, and I ran into at least one thing that was old and that most historians don't think happened anymore. If you're the kind of person that likes footnotes, then this book will drive you a little nuts. I think that the author is being truthful and honest, at least as far as I got (about 40 pages in). If you are reading this for fun, or basic background, then you're probably safe. If you are intense about historical accuracy, or doing a school project, you should probably consult something else, or try to find what's here in other sources. There is a bibliography at the back.
I did enjoy the anecdotes about Vigée-Lebrun painting Marie Antoinette, and the mention that Louis XIV enjoyed locksmithing and carpentry and had drawers of scientific instruments (most likely for display, granted) made me think he was kind of a proto-hacker/nerd. Which is an interesting mental image.
An enjoyable read and one with a most definite point of view, with which the reasonably informed reader might sometimes disagree—but I would suggest that readers approach this work in the spirit of the French salons of the 18th century which are so charmingly described in these pages.
All in all I found this book to be pleasurably thought-provoking and will definitely read it again at some point down the road.
Absolutely fantastic description of the Ancien Regime. A must read for anyone ever interested in this era. The description of daily life, how society was structured, the description of every day furniture, it was evocative.
If you want to learn more about the Ancien Regime before the French revolution, this book is it.
An easy read. Written in a breezy, conversational style, it's a good introduction to life in pre-revolutionary France and Naples. Its coverage of America concentrates on the reactions of French visitors. For the general reader.