Richard Cobb, the eminent historian of the French Revolution, had an affinity with France that went far beyond academic interest. Living there in the years after the Second World War, he felt a second identity as a Frenchman. But his was not the France best known to visitors. He was drawn not to the romantic or the beautiful but to their opposites--to the banal, the ordinary, the unheroic, to people and their routines, to railway stations, mills, and back-to-back row houses. He showed no interest in the rich or aristocratic, but moved among the eccentric bourgeoisie and the criminal or anarchic working class. In these writings, collected here for the first time, the France Cobb describes was beginning to disappear long before his death in1996. The picture presented is, as a result, elegiac, unique, and unforgettable. David Gilmour, who also edited Richard Cobb's The French and Their Revolution, was a student of Cobb's at Oxford. He is an award winning biographer and historian.
Richard Cobb was a British historian. He became Professor of Modern History at the University of Oxford, after an initially unconventional academic career in which he spent a dozen years working as an independent scholar in French archives. His work was recognised in France by the award of membership of the Legion d'Honneur. He is known for his work on the background to the French Revolution, and for his autobiographical writings.
Ok, so this was good, but also kind of tedious. I skimmed through the last couple of essays until I found some interesting morsels, and then skimmed some more.
Not an easy book to read. While there are many narratives in the book that are enjoyable, many have lengthy references to obscure unfamiliar Francophone topics. Additionally, the author uses the French language in many places, sometimes lengthy quotations, that are not defined. While I speak French fairly well, the quotations generally include French words that are not well known. Finally, stylistically, the narrative is often hard to follow due to use of lengthy run-on sentences, sometimes an entire page long. Thought about giving up several times, but plowed through and finished.
Disappointing. I admit, it was the presence of Queneau's name on the back that made me pick it up, & he is only mentioned in passing a few times. Certainly there are some pleasures to be found in these pages full of the love of Paris & the many details of that love over the years by its author, which would doubtless be more appreciated by those with a more intimate knowledge of the city. Some parts veer into grumpy old man territory, but those that don't really communicate well one man's cherished memories, experiences, & analysis of his beloved city.
I'm on a Paris reading kick this winter, as well as working on my limited French language skills. How charming to find Cobb's work on the intellectual and social history of Paris, from his own personal lens as what used to be called an eminent historian. It's immensely accessible and filled with the kind of knowledge and nostalgia that makes for an edifying, charming read. I particularly like Julian Barnes' introduction, another Anglo-Francophile who shines when speaking about the French.