I rushed through this book, and while I enjoyed it, I also thought it lacked substance. I guess, in effect, it was a good book to read while traveling around -- easy to pick up for even just a five-minute read -- but not a work of great literature.
The story is basically this: the author, Sarah Turbull, decided to take a year off from her TV job to travel the world. During a stint in Bucharest, she meets a dashing Frenchman, and spontaneously decides to take him up on his offer to visit him in France. Romance blooms, and the story is basically about how she learned to adapt in France.
But the weirdest part about it was, there was very little mention of the dashing Frenchman at all, the man who eventually becomes her husband. I think I knew more in the end about crazy Pierre, who obnoxiously rode his bike through the street. But I think the book could have benefitted more from a look at their relationship -- surely it wasn't all sunshine and roses, especially since at the beginning they barely understood each other.
I don't have much more to say about it...easy come, easy go, I guess. I am sure that in two months I will struggle to remember what it was even about.
Next up: The Pilot's Wife, by Anita Shreve. I am not too excited about this book, but I am in Eastern Europe right now and have very few choices!
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