Something to Declare: Essays on France

by Julian Barnes

Julian Barnes's long and passionate relationship with la belle France began more than forty years ago, and in these essays on the country and the culture he combines a keen appreciation, a seemingly infinite sphere of reference, and prose as stylish as classic haute couture.

Barnes's vision of France-"The Land Without Brussels Sprouts"-embraces its vanishing peasantry; its vanished hyper-literate pop singers, Georges Brassens, Boris Vian, and Jacques Brel ("[he] sang at the world as if it… could be saved from its follies and brutalities by his vocal embrace"); and the gleeful iconoclasm of its nouvelle vague cinema ("'The Underpass in Modern French Film' is a thesis waiting to be written").

He describes the elegant tour of France that Henry James and Edith Wharton made in 1907, and the orgy of drugs and suffering of the Tour de France in our own time. An unparalleled connoisseur of French writing and writers, Barnes gives us his thoughts on the prolific and priapic Simenon, on Sand, Baudelaire, and Mallarmé ("If literature is a spectrum, and Hugo hogs the rainbow, then Mallarmé is working in ultra-violet").

In several dazzling excursions into the prickly genius of Flaubert, Barnes discusses his letters; his lover Louise Colet; and his biographers (Sartre's The Family Idiot, "an intense, unfinished, three-volume growl at Flaubert, is mad, of course"). He delves into Flaubert's friendship with Turgenev; looks at the "faithful betrayal" of Claude Chabrol's film version of Madame Bovary; and reveals the importance of the pharmacist's assistant, the most major minor character in Flaubert's great "if Madame Bovary were a mansion, Justin would be the handle to the back door; but great architects have the design of door-furniture in mind even as they lay out the west wing."

For lovers of France and all things French-and of Julian Barnes's singular wit and intelligence-Something to Declare is an unadulterated joy to read.

Genres: Nonfiction, Essays, France, Travel, Literature, French Literature, Cultural

320 pages, Hardcover

First published January 1, 2002

About the author

Julian Patrick Barnes is an English writer. He won the Man Booker Prize in 2011 with The Sense of an Ending, having been shortlisted three times previously with Flaubert's Parrot, England, England, and Arthur & George. Barnes has also written crime fiction under the pseudonym Dan Kavanagh (having married Pat Kavanagh). In addition to novels, Barnes has published collections of essays and short stories.
In 2004 he became a Commandeur of L'Ordre des Arts et des Lettres. His honours also include the Somerset Maugham Award and the Geoffrey Faber Memorial Prize. He was awarded the 2021 Jerusalem Prize.

Reviews

[Whitaker · Rating 2 out of 5]

I think the something that needs to be declared is that the title is a gross misnomer. It would be far more accurate to call it Essays on Flaubert and French Culture.

The bulk of the essays in this volume deal with Flaubert, his life, and his work. The non-Flaubert essays are a delight to read. His Flaubert essays, while informative, go on for too long. Sorry, Mr Barnes, but I didn’t really need all that detail about his agonising over his writing. And for those with an interest in Barnes's take on Flaubert, I would suggest the more interesting Flaubert's Parrot instead.

[Eylül Görmüş · Rating 3 out of 5]

Julian Barnes'ın "Fransa kültürüne dair denemeler" olarak tanıtılan "Bir Çift Söz"üne dair bu tanımlama pek geçerli değil sanki. Yahut şöyle diyeyim, kitabın üçte birlik ilk kısmı evet böyle, ama geri kalan kısmında Barnes yine büyük takıntısına dönüyor ve Flaubert üzerine konuşmaya başlıyor. Kitabı sanki iki ayrı bölümde değerlendirmek daha doğru olacak gibi.

Fransız kültürüne dair ilk bölüm nefisti. Barnes her zamanki gibi çok tatlı ve komik şekilde Fransa ile hem şahsi ilişkisini anlatıyor, hem de Fransız kültürüne dair şahane gözlemler yapıyor ve İngiliz kültürü ile karşılaştırmalı bazı analizler sunuyor. Bu kısımda özellikle François Truffaut ve Jean-Luc Godard'ın ilişkisine (düşmanlığına mı demeli hatta belki?) dair olan bölüm muazzamdı. Godard sadece Agnes Vardacığımızı değil Truffaut'yu da üzmüş meğerse. Şimdi ölenin arkasından konuşmak istemediğim için uzatmak istemiyorum bu kısmı... Bu ilk bölümden şu pasajı bırakayım şuraya: "Sürekli olarak yöneldiğim kültürel dönem kabaca 1850-1925 arasıdır, yani Gerçekçilik'in doruk noktasına çıkmasından Modernizm'in getirdiği bölünmeye değin geçen dönem: Sadece Fransız kültürü için değil, aynı zamanda Fransız kültürel konukseverliği için de harika bir dönem. Nüfuz sahibi bir Parislinin, on beş yıllık bir süreç içinde, boyası kurumamış Demoiselles d'Avignon'u (Avignonlu Kızlar) incelemiş, Bahar Ayini'nin prömiyerine gitmiş ve Ulysses'in ilk baskısını satın almış olması, hem de bunları buharlı gemiye binmek şöyle dursun, metroya bile yetişmek zorunda kalmadan yapabilmesi hâlâ mucizevi bir şey gibi görünüyor."

Yazarın, Flaubert'in hayatını didiklemeye giriştiği ikinci bölümü ise çok sevdiğimi söyleyemeyeceğim. Orada da ilginç kısımlar var ama kendisi gibi gerçekten takıntılı bir Flaubert aşığı değilse eğer bu kadar detayla kimsenin ilgileneceğini sanmıyorum. Flaubert'in Papağanı'ndaki kadarı bence yeterli olmalı, senin bu Flaubert saplantın vallahi çok acayip sevgili Julian Barnes.

Böyle. "Barnes'ı aşırı iyi anlamak" gibi bir derdi olan benim için faydalı bir okuma oldu diyebilirim.

[Argos · Rating 3 out of 5]

Julian Barnes’in Fransa ve Fransız sanat ve kültürüne hayranlığı meşhurdur, ancak Flaubert hayranlığı patolojik bir hal alıp takıntılı bir tutkuya dönüşmüş. Daha önceki denemelerinin bazılarında Gustav Flaubert’e yer veren Barnes’ın “Flaubert’in Papağanı” adlı kitabını da hatırlatmak isterim. Bu kitaptaki 17 denemenin 10 tanesi ünlü Fransız yazar ile ilgili, sanki alternatif bir Flaubert biyografisi hazırlamış J. Barnes.

Diğer denemelerden 2000 Tour de France bisiklet yarışı çok ilgi çekici, ancak burada yayınevinin büyük bir hatasından bahsetmem gerek. Arka kapak tanıtım yazısında 1907 Tour de France adlı denemeden bisiklet yarışı olarak bahsedilmesi çok yanlış, bu denemede E. Wharton’ın Henry James ile birlikte otomobille yaptıkları Fransa’nın taşrasında bir geziden bahsedilmektedir. Yazar bir kelime oyunu yapmış burada ama yayınevi görmemiş bunu ki bu ciddiyetsizlik Ayrıntı Yayınları’na yakışmamış .

Bir de çeviri konusu var ki Serdar Rifat Kırkoğlu her çevirisinde yaptığı gibi orjinalinde italik veya bold ya da tırnak içinde yazılan kelimeleri aynen yazıyor bir asteriks ile dip notunda açıklamada bulunuyor. Bu ise hem okuru yoruyor hem fe okuma akışını duraklatıyor. Kırkoğlu’nun çevirileri yorucu oluyor. Sonuçta sıkıcı bulduğum, ayrıntılara boğulmuş, zor okunan bir deneme kitabı okumuş oldum.

2,5’dan 3

[Nick Jones · Rating 3 out of 5]

Julian Barnes is famous for his Francophilia. Here is a collection of essays about France, many originally published as book reviews. The first half of the book glances over a number of aspects of France: food, cycling, songs, the cinema (Truffaut and Godard)... Barnes is always witty and civilized, caring deeply about the country and its culture. But the France he loves is that of the rural and the small towns, the France he visited on family holidays as a child. And there always remains something of the cultivated English tourist about Barnes. There is a mourning over the loss of this France: the country is changing and not for the better: you can no longer be guaranteed a decent meal if you go to the local small town restaurant. Although Barnes identifies with the liberal-left, there is something deeply conservative about this: where Barnes can deplore the loss of a unique national French culture as it is engulfed by a homogenising multi-national influences (down with Starbucks and McDonalds!), this threat to a national culture can also be used to exclude immigrants and all who do not gel with the historical norms. It is significant that Barnes has no interest in the multi-cultural mix of the large cities and any promise of an evolving French culture. (When he writes about a subject I know a little about – French cinema – although his views remain wittily entertaining, there is also a certain obviousness about them.) The second half of the collection focuses on French literature, which for Barnes means Gustave Flaubert. If you want a review of anything to do with Flaubert, Barnes is the man to come to. But this narrows the interests of the book: if you are interested in Flaubert I am sure there will be much to catch your attention, but the original exploration of France and Frenchness is lost. (Unless you identify Flaubert with France...and maybe Barnes does.)

[Girish · Rating 2 out of 5]

Why do you do this Mr.Barnes? Something to Declare : Essays on France is one of the most misleading titles you could have had for this book.

Starts out decent enough with an very endearing essay on the love-hate you have for France as a Brit in his trademark wit and prose. Essay after essay, he talks about what constituted his memory of France - the singers, the movies, the Tour-de-France. After around 6 chapters - the book changes shape - completely.

The next 7 chapters were something you were not warned about. Flaubert and using him as a prism, his contacts, his books, his correspondence. What a presumptuous coup! Had this been part of a book like Flaubert's parrot, I would have subscribed to it - since I knew what I was subscribing for. I could not forgive him his deception - despite liking parts of what he had written.

There are some portions which were pretty good - like the role of side characters in a novel or the film vs book debate. Early on, I even liked the research into each of his subjects. This is more an essay on the author's France. He becomes the prism to interpret art, music, literature and sport. In literature, he makes his favorite author Flaubert the prism for every other individual - hence we see all his observations colored.

I hope to meet Mr.Barnes one day and ask him 'Why?'. And yet, I know I will pick his next book - maybe after doing my research.

[Rahul Nair · Rating 3 out of 5]

“Something to Declare” is basically a collection of essays on French culture but more importantly, a diligent study of the life and works of Gustave Flaubert, Barnes’ favorite novelist.

The first few essays of the book are quiet fun to read. He covers French culture through various lenses. So, the first chapter focuses on historian Richard Cobb’s love and life in Paris. Subsequent chapters include a deep dive into French music (Boris Vian, Jacques Brel and Georges Brassen), French cinema (Barnes’ preference for Truffaut over Goddard), Edith Wharton’s travel through France, Tour De France 2000, and a look at the history of the sport in France, and the life of Goerges Simenon (author of over 400 books).

But this is where the Barnes’ exploration of French culture ends, and we commit ourselves to the obsessive study of the life of Gustave Flaubert. As someone who hasn’t read a single book by the Flaubert, these chapters were quite tough to sit through (though now it goes without saying that I must read Madame Bovary just to understand why Barnes’ is so obsessed with it).

Barnes’s Flaubertphilia goes beyond the author but also people who were associated with him. Hence, we get a chapter about his lover and poet, Louise Colet, Flaubert’s correspondence with fellow novelists George Sand, Ivan Turgenev, his fight with his editors, his relationship with his niece, a careful analysis of treasure trove of his notes and exploration of various film adaptation of Emma Bovary over the years.

If you are not as obsessed with Gustave Flaubert as Barnes, these essays come across as self-indulgent. Its evident that Barnes wrote these essays for him. And the fact that most of them were published in literary journals stress that they were written for fellow Flaubert enthusiasts. I reckon at some point a book publisher thought of aggregating them and carefully ordering them (pushing the Flaubert chapters to the backend of the book) and camouflaging them under a misleading title.

Regardless, for all your effort, you do get something out of “Something to Declare”. It’s fascinating to read Barnes’ analyzing various aspects of an author’s life, his insights that how reading an author’s letters get you closer to understanding them than a biography, and what is the cost of really good writing. For Flaubert, that meant living a solitary life filled with letters to friends, meticulous research, and obsession of style in writing over substance.

Flaubert writes in 1859 “I believe that a writer should leave behind nothing but his works”

“Something to Declare” is an anti-thesis to that thought, as Barnes picks up the leftovers of Flaubert’s by a scalpel and brings them under the microscope.

[Michel Siskoid Albert · Rating 4 out of 5]

Though Something to Declare purports to assemble Julian Barnes' essays on France and French things, the last two-thirds are really about Flaubert or people whose lives intersect with Flaubert. I'm not against it, but even Barnes realizes the imbalance, quoting Sir Kingsley Amis in the preface and on the back cover among the usual praises: "I wish he'd shut up about Flaubert." Well, that's his specialty, and I could read Barnes wax biographical about mid 19th-Century French artistes all day (and have). Some of the other articles collected here could have found a berth in Keeping an Eye Open (essays on art) or The Pendant in the Kitchen (on cookery), but there's no repetition of text, and little in the way of content. Barnes seems to have revised all the articles anyway to make them flow more smoothly into a single volume. And then there are essays on France's great songwriters (Brel, Vian, Brassens), the Tour de France, motoring through the country, and the French New Wave; it's not all the same few obsessions. Except France, of course, and Barnes' connection to that country, especially its past, is always keenly felt.

[jennifer · Rating 3 out of 5]

This book of essays covers many of the topics that are recognized as French territory: filmmaker Truffaut and the New Wave, the Tour de France, the singers of the 50's-60's who moaned on finding out that they were sharing their mistresses with others. And then there are the nine, yes nine, chapters on Barnes' favorite writer, Flaubert.

The writing is engaging from the beginning as Barnes describes his family vacations around France year after year, and his growing sense of comfort with the French culture. I especially appreciated his chapter on those singers such as Jacques Brel and Georges Brassens (though I can't understand why my favorite, Serge Gainsborg wasn't included) and the one on author Georges Simenon was full of decadent scandal and therefore wonderful.
But you should probably really, really like Flaubert in order to get through those eight chapters which discuss not just his work, but his childhood, his affairs and the many pages on whether or not he burned his ex-girlfriend's love letters. Barnes spends quite some time telling the reader why Satre's bio on Flaubert was wrong.
So, I guess I'm saying that if you're not so into Flaubert, the first eight chapters are still good reading, and if you love Flaubert, you'll be happy here.

[Helle · Rating 4 out of 5]

3.5 - excellent first half, Barnes is good company, but the second half presupposes a fanatical interest in all things Flaubert...

[Elizabeth]

We just could not finish reading this book. Not that there's probably anything wrong with the book. It's just not for us. (It didn't help that the trade paperback we were given has printing that is insanely minuscule with each line jammed up against the one above and below.) Therefore, it's entirely unfair to give any rating at all.

We were given the book for Christmas 2003. I know we must have tried reading it at the time but neither of us remember even one word. My guess is that we put it down for later. Much later.

The other day (in 2023) I noticed what looked to be an entirely untouched book on the shelf. We needed a new (for us) book to read. This looked perfect. And, after reading the introduction, we were certain we would love it.

Alas, it was not to be. We began the 1st chapter, with its wonderful description of a small town. Then, the description of the small town morphed into an increasingly dull description of Richard Cobb (an English expat to France in the 1930s). We jumped over to chapter 2. And got bogged down almost immediately after slogging through a paragraph that included a long list of singers that Julian Barnes listened to in 1967 when teaching as a lecteur d'anglais in Rennes.

I first went to France in the summer of 1959 at the age of thirteen. [...] Over the next few summers we would loop our way through different regions of France, mostly avoiding large cities and always avoiding Paris. We would visit châteaux and churches, grottoes and mueums, inducing in my a lifelong phobia for the guided tour. [...]
      And then there was the formidable eccentricity of the food. Their butter was wanly unsalted, blood came out of their meat, and they would put anything, absolutely anything, into soup. They grew perfectly edible tomatoes and then doused them in foul vinaigrette; ditto lettuce, ditto carrots, ditto beetroot. [...] Bread was good (but see butter0; chips were good (but see meat); vegetables were unpredictable. [Preface]
~ ~ ~ ~
In the spring of 1998 I was on a walking holiday in the Vercors, south of Grenoble. On a perfect May morning, two of us were traversing a high upland plateau just below the snowline. Turf impeccable enough to relay fairways at Augusta was crossed by thin, pure streams; here, in boastful profusion — Nature showing what it can do when left alone — were a billion gentians, edelweiss, dwarf narcissi, buttercups, and orchids; we glimpsed what was probably a small fox, depending on how big marmots grow. [...] As the grass track gave way to semi-asphalt, we encountered another item from changeless France: a peasant pasturing his goats on the public hedgeside. He was ancient, rubicund, and toothless, accompanied by a psychotically hostile dog of mixed ancestry [chapter one | An Englishman Abroad]
~ ~ ~ ~
the singers who roared from my squeaky French player with a stylus-weight of about two kilos were all local: Brassens and Brel, Vian and Reggiani; high-boho Léo Ferré, pointedly engagé Jean Ferrat, soufflée-voiced Ingénieur des Ponts et Chausées Guy Béart, lugubrious Anne Vanderlove, bouncy Georges Chelon, yearning Barbara, chubbily smutty Pierre Perret, winsome Anne Sylvestre, and promising Rennes-born débutant Jacques Bertin. I gave a polite nod to earlier generations (Piaf, Trenet, Rossi), a shrug to the international cabaret artists (Aznavour, Distel, the ear-cupping Becaud), a pained smile to that [...] [Chapter 2 | Spending Their Deaths on Holiday]

Maybe we'll try again in a few years. Maybe.

[False · Rating 5 out of 5]

To say this book is a series of essays about France is like saying seeds become vines--or redwoods. Do you see all of the categories I assigned to this book? It is his childhood experiences in France with his brother and parents. It is Barnes as a young man teaching in a Catholic school in a small village. It is his brother and their shared (not identical) memories. It is his ancestry, his parents lives and deaths, famous French writers (and American and British) and philosophy and religion and food and travel experiences with it's accordant pleasures and difficulties. SO much I couldn't even begin to deconstruct this accurately without writing pages about one essay. I photocopied so many pages I wanted to write about: the importance of Madame Bovary, Francois Truffaut's movies and his early death, the meaning of special geographic places in the world where you feel centered and whole. I intend to start writing once I get all of my old computer data transferred to this new machine and learn a new version of Windows and Photoshop and more techno stuff that will just not wait but only hamper the longer I delay. And with "that" said, now my book list is up-to-date for tonight.

[Huw Rhys · Rating 1 out of 5]

When Julian Barnes is at his average level, he's brilliant.

But he has the capacity to produce self indulgent stuff which doesn't even touch the scale of being vaguely entertaining or educational - and this collection of "essays" (I use the term guardedly) is one of his most stultifying reads yet.

Someone needs to tell him that writing long, pernickety bits of art criticism when there is no illustration of the picture under discussion is just a complete no no - yet every few books, he seems to fall back into this trap. Likewise his obsession with obscure French literary figures, and his superficial opinions on peripheral elements of their work is equally monotonous. He really needs to stop writing about Flaubert every two minutes.....

I think there was one story here - the one about doping in the Tour de France - which was vaguely readable. The rest was just utter tosh.

He should stick to fiction - he's a brilliant writer, and when he can make up his own endings, his writing is magnificent. He just seems to struggle with stuff where the ending has already been decided - or where there is simply no ending to report.

[Teaandbooksplease · Rating 3 out of 5]

These are not your usual English-person-writes-about-France essays. There's are no silly stories about trying to buy a baguette, or frustrations about getting work papers or touching moments with a French peasant who gives you advice about how best to renovate your house in Provence. This is a book written by someone who loves French culture (and most of all Flaubert) and is eager to plunge into the fascinating details.

Barnes writing is intelligent, well-structured and he's picked subjects he's passionate about and knows well. I think I would have enjoyed this book more if I actually cared anything about singers like Brassens or Brel, watched the Tour de France or liked Flaubert (seriously, Barnes is obsessed with Flaubert). If any of those sound like your thing, then I can highly recommend this book!

[Fhsanders54 · Rating 3 out of 5]

A series of short stories written in 2002, focusing primarily on Flaubert's family and friends correspondence from the time, plus reviews of previous biographies. Flaubert remains an obsessive fascination for Julian Barnes. However there are other interesting and educational chapters, including a brilliant one on the Tour de France and the changing cocktail of drugs which has accompanied it through the ages! Reflections on 1960s French musicians such as Jacques Brel and George Brassens were informative too.He completes the overview of culture, both high and popular with pieces about Truffaut and Godard, the cook Elizabeth David and the traveller Richard Cobb. Wide-ranging, well-written, but a little less on Flaubert wouldn't have gone amiss.

[Chaitalee Ghosalkar · Rating 1 out of 5]

This book should be titled 'Something to Declare on France, and Everything else on Flaubert'.

I must admit that I did not enjoy Barnes' other book on Gustave Flaubert- Flaubert's Parrot. So you can imagine twice the annoyance when I saw another book dedicated to a relatively unknown author. Seriously, what's with this incessant fangirling? What should have been relegated to one's personal blog, or best, a diary, has been published for the larger world. It also made me feel as though Barnes is trying to push his liking for Flaubert down the readers's throats.

If after Flaubert's Parrot, I had a 3% chance of picking the author's Madame Bovary, that number's gone to zero.

[Jeff Howells · Rating 3 out of 5]

With ‘Something to Declare’ I’ve read everything written by Julian Barnes. This book (strangely the only one of his currently out of print) is a collection of non fiction about France - and a good proportion of it concerns Flaubert.
Taking a look back at his work now I’ve read it all - I’d now place Barnes as one of my favourite authors - someone who’s been getting better with age as well.

[Dick Hamilton · Rating 4 out of 5]

Barnes is one of my favorite authors and this book features his excellent style and wit. However, a good part of the essays is focused on French authors, so if you are not familiar with the works of these writers, this portion of the essays has much less interest. Also, Barnes frequently gives a French phrase, but not the English translation, which would be of great benefit.

[Roxana Sabau · Rating 3 out of 5]

O carte...simpatică? Mi s-a părut mai mult o ciornă la Papagalul lui Flaubert. Cartea e prezentată ca o colecție de eseuri despre dragostea lui Barnes față de Franța. Mai bine de jumătate sunt despre obsesia lui față de Flaubert.
E inutil să te apuci de această carte dacă n-ai citit măcar Madame Bovary.

[Susan · Rating 4 out of 5]

Julian Barnes (author of the outstanding "The Sense of an Ending," which was also made into a movie starring Charlotte Rampling and Jim Broadbent) explores France, including his beloved Flaubert, in this collection of essays about France and French authors. A must for Francophiles...

[Joyce · Rating 3 out of 5]

I think I would have enjoyed more of this book if I were really interested in Flaubert and other French writers of that era. As it was, I skimmed more of the last half than I care to admit! Barnes' writing is always a treat, though, so it was enjoyable in that sense.

[Jack Coleman · Rating 5 out of 5]

Finally something with a challenge to the vocabulary. A man who has worked as a lexicographer
Can't be all that bad.
A Francophile i am not but it certainly was an entertaining read and got the dust off the dictionary.
Atheism Cynicism Misanthropy my kind of book.

[Angela Lewis · Rating 4 out of 5]

Some excellent writings about France, worthy of at least one more read. Can't say that I'm intrigued to read Madam Bovary but much enjoyed the chapters on Flaubert. Tour de France 2000 was, indeed an eye opening account.

[Zosia · Rating 3 out of 5]

Essays on France and French culture turn out to be mostly essays on Flaubert and "Madame Bovary", so a more appropriate subtitle would be "Essays on Flaubert and 'Madame Bovary' and some other bits".

[Andrea · Rating 5 out of 5]

Excellent essays by a fellow francophile. Julian Barnes is a much bigger Flaubert fan than I am but this series of essays has vastly increased my sympathy and understanding for this pioneer of the modern novel.

[Kathryn Haynes · Rating 2 out of 5]

I have enjoyed Barnes fiction but this collection of essays was a slog. I’ve read it on and off, an essay or half an essay at a time. Some were interesting in part, most less so. Some fascinating details, too much that’s arcane.

[Diana.cuzic · Rating 4 out of 5]

https://atelier.liternet.ro/articol/1...

[Jay Rothermel · Rating 4 out of 5]

Decades of personal essays and book reviews covering the author's interactions with France and her literature.

[Raul Popescu · Rating 5 out of 5]

http://www.litero-mania.com/franta-lu...

[Mia Boddington · Rating 3 out of 5]

Maybe 3.5, but sadly this was just quite boring

[Doug Wells · Rating 3 out of 5]

I've been a Barnes fan for years. I don't find his essays as captivating for me as his fiction.