Almost French: Love and a New Life in Paris

This is a lovely, very personal, easy read about Turnbull's trials and tribulations as an Australian immigrant to France. Western countries shares many similarities, but it's in the small things that sensibilities can clash: order of dinner courses, subtleties in manner, gender roles, civilities, taboos are just some of the things that can become an unpredictable source of conflict.
Chapter by chapter, Turnbull looks at the obstacles that she had to overcome, some of the ways in which she was able to adapt and others in which she decided "to clash", as the prerogative of being an outsider. All of her experiences ring very true and I've had similar observations and reactions, playing on my two nationalities or sometimes simply forgetting show more some of the intricacies of French living.
Although Australian, I think this book will resonate with Americans and Canadian alike, having similar roots.
I always enjoy seeing my other country through other eyes to get another reflection of how we are perceived. show less

(BookCrossing 28 April 2012)

Another one promoted up the TBR so I could read and leave, although I have realised to my absolute horror that I was meant to send it back to the original owner – sorry, Sandy!

A really well done expat book written by an Australian woman who falls in love with a French man, only to have to transform herself from a shorts-wearing, direct and friendly girl into a composed, well-dressed and distant almost-Frenchwoman, complete with groomed and whitened pet dog. It’s honestly put, with no self-pity and a lot of humour, and naturally structured rather than in themed chapters. Social gatherings and both people’s friends and families are particularly well portrayed, and it feels like it truly is a reflection of show more life in France. show less

My project of experiencing France vicariously through others continues with Ms. Turnbull's adventures as an Australian living in Paris, and I have to say, this account surprised me more than once. My previous experiences were through the frivolous and gossipy All You Need To Be Impossibly French by Helena Frith-Powell and the reserved but admiring Entre Nous by Debra Ollivier. These two ladies presented the French, Parisian women in particular, as confident, chic intellectuals who prefer to spend the afternoon reading a good book in solitude. Ms. Turnbull showed us a different picture. Her Parisians are lonely people riddled with insecurities, fatigued by the structure and rules of the city. Her Paris is a city of contrasts, with show more perfectly manicured gardens and parks, charming quartiers, beautiful architecture, and streets smelling like urine because while asking to use the bathroom of the people you're visiting may be considered a faux pas apparently urinating outside their building is perfectly acceptable.
Fortunately this is only one side of the story and Ms. Turnbull does a good job of finding and maintaining balance in her narrative. Perhaps it's a journalistic trait, to examine the subject from all sides and report on both the positive and the negative. Or may be it's that life's full of both. In a way Almost French is like a Cinderella story: an Australian girl risks it all by moving to France, has a terrible time of it at first, then finds her stride, learns the language and how to navigate the society, and settles in to a happy life in a city she loves with a man she adores.
The book is full of stories of how all that happened, from the desparation of not being able to find work and eating all the chocolate in the apartment, to the exhilaration of telling off a rude stranger without missing a beat, to the surprise of being overshadowed by her own dog, and they're all written in a fun, engaging way that's personal without becoming too sentimental or giving too much information. There are times when the author sounds a bit whiny, or somewhat pushy, but fortunately those times are fleeting.
One of my favorite things about this book is that it doesn't focus only on the usual subjects of fashion, food and seduction but ventures beyond to the issues of actually living in the city, meeting new people, growing to love the villages and towns beyond Paris, learning to appreciate all the different layers of society in one's quartier and getting things done despite the many rules and regulations that come with living in a coveted zip code. When I finished it I felt like I've actually seen some of the reality beyond what tourists usually see, or what the other two authors either didn't experience or didn't choose to share with their readers. It's a nice to have a differet view even though Ms. Turnbull writes about Paris and France in the 1990s and things may have changed, although I am confident that whatever changes took place they didn't radically alter Paris, France or the French. show less

Sarah Turnbull, an Australian, is touring Europe when she meets Frederic, a Parisian.

She ejects her itinerary and follows him to Paris.

And the payoff (for us) is this lovely book.

Sarah has a view of Paris and the French as an expat who is living with and eventually marries a native. It's an outsider's insider view and it provides a nice contrast to Adam Gopnik's Paris to the Moon.

While she can't avoid hobnobbing with some expats (although she tries mightily to avoid it), Turnbull's Paris, because of her intimate relationship with a Parisian, is filled with experiences and affectionate insights about the ups and downs of trying to fit in as a unpretentious Aussie in the hierarchical, class based world of Paris.

Turnbull is honest enough show more about herself to allow the reader to get frustrated with her tendency to take personally what are essentially cultural differences. She is also fond enough of the French to provide believable explanations for their abominably rude behavior.

I finished Paris to the Moon feeling that while Paris is a nice place to visit, I wouldn't want to live there.

I finished Almost French feeling that in the right circumstances, I could probably enjoy living in Paris too. show less

I really enjoyed this -- it lived up to its description. The one episode I remember in particular was when she was heading out for a quick trip to the bakery to pick up a baguette wearing sweats, and her husband commented on it. When she told him it was just to run out to the bakery he said, "But it's not very nice for the baker." Cute story, but what an interesting perspective. We tend to think of looking nice as typically being an expression of vanity, but for Parisians it's in consideration for all the people who have to share a space with you. And when you think about how deflating it is, in a way, to be out amongst a bunch of people dressed like slobs (think Walmart), you wonder why more cultures don't take this attitude.

Almost French by Sarah Turnbull is a memoir about the Australian author's time in Paris as she falls in love, learns the culture (or tries to fit in), and tries to get consistent work as a journalist. Perhaps it was because it was a travel memoir and fitting in that I thought so often of Eat Pray Love by Elizabeth Gilbert, but within pages it held a completely separate voice for me.

Sarah Turnbull has taken time off from her job in Australia to travel Europe -- she figures that she might as well do it now since she can afford to take the time and she has no commitments -- after all, why wait until much later in life when work and family obligations might get in the way? Off she goes to Europe, and while in Bucharest, she meets show more Frèdèric, and decides to do something different than she's ever done before and completely change her plans -- go to Paris to stay with a guy that she only met for a few days in Bucharest. Throwing caution to the wind she goes -- and settles into Paris and tries to find her place within the culture and the job market.

This book is a hit in Australia and it was definitely a really pleasant read. I enjoyed her moments of confusion in trying to understand fashion and language, and there is one particular moment that I spluttered my coffee out with laughter for my combined shock and for feeling the author's complete embarrassment -- a simple moment in which she asks her new boyfriend in front of his friends if he would like his smoking pipe, when she mistakenly really asked him if he, ahem...would like a something sexual to occur. I felt for her trying to fit in and get used to it all, and as I've traveled quite a bit in my life and lived in multiple locations, I felt my understanding and my frustrations for her experiences grow as I read each page. It's tough to fit in sometimes!

The only aspect that found me a little wanting was that I felt she wrote with such great detail on so many events and moments, but she skipped quite a bit on the love she had with Frèdèric which was the ultimate reason which compelled her to move to Paris in the first place. Perhaps it was out of respect for their intimacies (completely understandable) and perhaps I'm just an old romantic at heart, but I felt a tad removed from the blossoming love that they experienced within their relationship that would so compel this grounded and logical woman to completely forgo her plan to travel all of Europe and instead, after one week of meeting with a man, to move instead to Paris to begin life anew.

Sarah Turnbull's descriptions of Parisian life, the eccentric characters she meets in a new neighborhood, and her ability (or lack thereof) to fit in fashionably at first, were quite endearing and offered a fun snapshot into her life. I cheered for her to find the right job, and enjoyed her journalistic cadence as Turnbull related each event with sometimes a distant voice and sometimes with close up scrutiny, one that ultimately turns into quite a fun trip into Parisian culture! show less

“Once you leave your homeland, nothing is ever the same” says a Greek cab driver living in Australia to author, Sarah Turnbull. Her memoir “Almost French” perfectly captures that sense of failing to belong completely in either your homeland or your adopted home. Moving to Paris at the start of a whirlwind romance with Frederic, she slowly begins to nurture her relationship with both the man and the city. Interesting to read about the cultural differences between French and Australian sensibilities. Enjoyed reading about visiting Chanel’s Boutique, attending the Paris fashion shows, and dining at Alain Ducasse's eponymous restaurant. Here, too, is a meditation on the more universal issues of belonging and acceptance. In the end show more she’s is happy to be considered almost French. show less