Sep 12, 1105am ~~ Ooh, a trip by car through France in 1908?! What fun!
And it was, mostly, especially in Part One. I was constantly looking up the various towns and their cathedrals that we visited, and most of the time I enjoyed the author's comments as tour guide. Not to mention all the pictures in the book. It was fun to compare them with the pictures in the Wiki articles. Since the book had been published in 1908 I was a little apprehensive in case any of the sites had suffered damage in the two World Wars since then, but as far as I could tell the majority of places were basically the same.
I think Wharton writes beautifully, but as in any travel book, it can be easy to fall into the trap of naming names and not giving as much as hoped for of personal details. Part Two had more of that feel to it, and became a bit boring as a result. But I still looked up people and places to read a bit more of their history. The author seemed to take it for granted than her readers would know who X, Y, or Z were but naturally many times I did not.
I also got a bit discouraged during the pages where they were visiting the house of George Sand. I have never read Sand (but I will give at least one title a try next year) so I was not as thrilled as Wharton was when she described her ability to imagine X, Y, and Z moving around the neighborhood just as they did in Sand's books.
I also became a little uncomfortable with the author's way of making what seemed to me backhanded compliments about the country and the people. In Part Two this came out strongly when she had luncheon in a place that was full of locals.
"It is for this reason, perhaps, that after a morning among the hills and valleys of the Morvan, in sight, almost continuously, of that astonishing Burgundian canal, with its long lines of symmetrical poplars, its massive masonry, its charming lock-houses, all repeating themselves like successive states of a precious etching—that after such a morning I seek, and seem to find, its culminating astonishment in the luncheon which crowned it in the grimy dining-room of the auberge at Précy-sous-Thil. But was it an auberge, even, and not rather a gargote, this sandy onion-scented “public,” with waggoners and soldiers grouped cheerfully about their petit vin bleu, while a flushed hand-maid, in repeated dashes from the kitchen, laid before us a succession of the most sophisticated dishes—the tenderest filet, the airiest pommes soufflées, the plumpest artichokes that ever bloomed on the buffet of a Parisian restaurant? It corresponded, at any rate, to the kind of place where, in any Anglo-Saxon country, one would have found the company as prohibitory as the food, and each equally a reason for fleeing as soon as possible from the other."
Overall, it was a pleasant trip, but I am not sure I would want to travel with our Edith again, to tell the truth. They seemed to rush through places: eventually I learned that they had visited many of these sites in Part One before, and so hurried themselves along in order to explore new places, which they also tended to hurry through, sort of scouting these areas for return trips in the future. I like to hang around a place a bit and get to know the true personality of a town, not just make the rounds of the 'major sites' and dash away. But everyone has their own style, of course.