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An urban antidote to A Year in Provence, Stephen Clarke's book is a laugh-out-loud account of a year in the life of an expat in Paris--for Francophiles and Francophobes alike. A Year in the Merde is the almost-true account of the author's adventures as an expat in Paris. Based loosely on his own experiences and with names changed to "avoid embarrassment, possible legal action and to prevent the author's legs being broken by someone in a Yves Saint Laurent suit (or quite possibly, a Christian show more Dior skirt)," A Year in the Merde is the story of a Paul West, a 27-year-old Brit who is brought to Paris by a French company to open a chain of British "tea rooms." He soon becomes immersed in the contradictions of French culture: the French are not all cheese-eating surrender monkeys, though they do eat a lot of smelly cheese; they are still in shock at being stupid enough to sell Louisiana, thus losing the chance to make French the global language, while going on strike is the second national participation sport after pétanque. He also illuminates how to get the best out of the grumpiest Parisian waiter, how to survive a French business meeting, and how not to buy a house in the French countryside. The author originally wrote A Year in the Merde just for fun and self-published it in France in an English language edition. Weeks later, it had become a word-of-mouth hit for expats and the French alike, even outselling Bill Clinton's memoir at Paris's fabled American bookstore Brentano's. With translation rights now sold in eleven countries, Stephen Clarke is clearly a Bill Bryson (or a Peter M) for a whole new generation who can never quite decide whether they love--or love to hate--the French. show lessTags
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Other reviews can give you the general plot, but it's only a paper-thin scaffolding for Clarke's attitudes towards the French, which he uses in this thinly-veiled fiction. The main character, Paul West, is thoroughly unlikable. He derides the working people of France, and constantly objectifies the women. There are very few redeeming qualities about this book. Every once in a great while, Clarke manages to write an effective joke, but most of it is hurtful or sleazy.
I think every traveler to France (no matter how competent they THINK they are in the language) experiences at least some of the things that Clarke recounts in this travel memoir. And depending on how traumatizing the experience ultimately was, we let our friends and family hear all about it when we get home. But few of us tell it all via the dry wit that Clarke consistently exhibits in A Year in the Merde. I actually lost count of how many times I laughed out loud.
This one is great fun for those who know know a bit of the language, including some French slang, but I think that even those who haven't been to France or who know more than a few basic words in French should enjoy this one.
This one is great fun for those who know know a bit of the language, including some French slang, but I think that even those who haven't been to France or who know more than a few basic words in French should enjoy this one.
My travelling companion read three of Stephen Clarke’s Merde books in quick succession between Paris Gare de Lyon and La Grande Motte on the Mediterranean. Not only did she laugh frequently, but she would read bits out prefaced with phrases such as, ‘Ah, this is what was going on the other day.’
We were in France at the start of September and the phrase la rentrée was everywhere. We’d gathered that it signified the equivalent of our Back to School, with added intensity gained from the fact that an awful lot of enterprises shut down for summer holidays and open again at rentrée. But this book explained it from the point of view of someone working in Paris, and certainly enriched our grasp of its meaning – a time for show more resolutions and new beginnings, etc.
Then there was the mysterious siren we heard exactly at midday in a small village during our walk on the Loire. Completely mystifying until – in [Merde actually] – we learned that at midday on a certain day every month all the airraid sirens of France have a practice run and are completely ignored by everyone except ignorant tourists. (We can vouch for the ignoring bit.)
I was confirmed in my impression that one asks for un carafe d’eau rather than simply de l’eau at a cafe unless one wants to pay for mineral water.
Apart from these useful snippets of information, and interesting bits of language artfully disguised as comedy, the book is a well-executed romp. I don’t plan to read the others, but if you’re travelling to France you could do a lot worse by way of preparatory or companionable reading. show less
We were in France at the start of September and the phrase la rentrée was everywhere. We’d gathered that it signified the equivalent of our Back to School, with added intensity gained from the fact that an awful lot of enterprises shut down for summer holidays and open again at rentrée. But this book explained it from the point of view of someone working in Paris, and certainly enriched our grasp of its meaning – a time for show more resolutions and new beginnings, etc.
Then there was the mysterious siren we heard exactly at midday in a small village during our walk on the Loire. Completely mystifying until – in [Merde actually] – we learned that at midday on a certain day every month all the airraid sirens of France have a practice run and are completely ignored by everyone except ignorant tourists. (We can vouch for the ignoring bit.)
I was confirmed in my impression that one asks for un carafe d’eau rather than simply de l’eau at a cafe unless one wants to pay for mineral water.
Apart from these useful snippets of information, and interesting bits of language artfully disguised as comedy, the book is a well-executed romp. I don’t plan to read the others, but if you’re travelling to France you could do a lot worse by way of preparatory or companionable reading. show less
I've had this book for years after it was recommended by a friend, can't remember which one, as being very funny. Finally got round to read it one day as I was reminiscing over my time overseas. This is a hateful book which tells the apparently autobiographical story of when the author spent a year in Paris as an over paid twenty something forced to sleep with a string of beautiful young Parisian women while all the time being completely smug about how superior he was. Would rather be dragged naked through a field of broken glass than spend 5 minutes in his company. Don’t know why I finished reading it. I suppose I sort of hoped that there would be some sort of moment of self-realisation at the end. It is one of the few books that show more found their way into a donation box this year. (with all due respect to whomever recommended it in in the first place ) show less
Young Englishman Paul West is hired by a French food corporation to organize and open their new venture in a chain of English tearooms in Paris. He's contracted to work on this project for one year, and so he enters the world of French business with barely any French language himself and leading a team that mostly doesn't understand him. His boss, suave Jean-Marie, seems the picture of the confident Frenchman, and Paul feels lucky to have such support, until he begins noticing cracks in the image, beginning with the sloppy way Jean-Marie conducts an office fling with an employee.
Paul's own libido often takes precedent over his work as he goes about the city, from work to cafes and bars, looking for just about any woman who will have show more him. His attempt at being a French country squire goes disastrously when he discovers that his boss has so much influence and power even that far from Paris. show less
Paul's own libido often takes precedent over his work as he goes about the city, from work to cafes and bars, looking for just about any woman who will have show more him. His attempt at being a French country squire goes disastrously when he discovers that his boss has so much influence and power even that far from Paris. show less
Starts off well, with interesting and witty cultural differences observed, but devolves too quickly into a day in the life of Paul West who comes across as something of a git, once you get to know him. Could have been much, much better, and yet I read it in 2 days... Not a keeper but not a waste of time either.
Cute-ish. I was actually hoping there would be lots more about actually running the tea house(s) but showing all of the problems, differences, with living in a different country was really the story and Paul West certainly seemed to run into every single one of them. A second book could be the problems of running his "own" tea house.
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- Canonical title*
- Ein Engländer in Paris
- Original title
- A year in the Merde
- Original publication date
- 2004-04-01
- People/Characters
- Paul West; Jean-Marie Martin; Élodie Martin; Alexa; Marie; Florence (show all 28); Chris; Christine; Bernard; Marc; Stéphanie; Nicole; Ruth; Marianne; Beoît Martin; Madame Da Costa; Chico; Jake; Monsieur Lassay; Guillaume Lassay; Monsieur Augème; Maître Rondecuir; Bob; Ian; Dave; Viviane; Monsieur Da Costa; Carla
- Important places
- Paris, France; Trou-sur-Mayenne
- Epigraph
- The chief beauty of this book lies not so much in its literary style or in the extent and usefulness of the information it conveys, as its simple truthfulness. Its pages form the record of events that really happened. All tha... (show all)t has been done is to colour them.
Jerome K.Jerome, preface to Three Men in a Boat - Dedication
- The author would like to thank the French government for introducing the thirty-five-hour week and giving him time to do more interesting things on a Friday afternoon than work. Merci.
- First words
- The year does not begin in January.
- Last words
- (Click to show. Warning: May contain spoilers.)As long as someone else treads in it.
- Original language*
- Englisch
- Disambiguation notice
- Not to be confused with the Paul West book with the same name.
*Some information comes from Common Knowledge in other languages. Click "Edit" for more information.
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