‘Fairy
tale’ is what would spring to mind if I were asked to describe Joanne Harris’ Peaches for Monsieur Le Curé, which continues the story of
Vianne Rocher, who we first met in Chocolat and then in its sequel, The
Lollipop Shoes. This latest instalment is slightly grittier than its
predecessors – there’s less magic and witchery, and more social realism,
centred on the topical and controversial issues like attitudes towards women, and
conflict between Moslem immigrants and Christian residents in the small (and
frequently small-minded) village of Lansquenet. But in the end it’s people who
matter, and the wickedness that must be overcome is created by a man’s nature
and has nothing to do with religion or race.
And
if you’re expecting a comforting, cosy read don’t worry because that’s exactly
what you’ll get: reality may intrude in this novel, but it doesn’t dominate. The
overall tone is as enchanting as ever and there’s warmth and affection for
humanity as good battles against evil on the banks of the Tannes in the idyllic
French countryside.
You
don’t need to have read the first two books to appreciate Peaches for Monsieur
Le Curé, but knowing the backstory helps to set the scene and understand the
characters. Harris is an astute writer who clearly understands that too much
re-hashing of the past is not only boring, but destroys the dramatic tension of
the work in hand.
Here
Vianne returns to Lansquenet eight years after her first visit, answering a
plea for help from beyond the grave. She has no idea what awaits her, but she
cannot ignore a letter written by her friend Armande before her death. When she
arrives in Lansquenet with her daughters Anouk and Rosette she finds everything
has changed. The tumbledown buildings in Les Marauds, the ‘slum’ quarter of the
village, now provide homes and businesses for an ever-growing North African
community, and a mosque challenges the power of the church. The initial
friendship and tolerance that existed between new and old has turned sour, and
there’s a feeling of menace and distrust as a mysterious black-clad woman walks
the streets...
Worse
still, Vianne’s old adversary Father Reynaud is balanced on the edge of
disaster, in danger of losing everything he holds dear, so the one-time enemies
find themselves forming an unlikely alliance as they seek to restore harmony to
the divided community.
Once
again the novel is told from two different viewpoints, with chapters narrated
by Vianne and the priest, and many of the themes and elements are the same as
those in the earlier books. There’s the wind that blows through the village
changing lives, and Vianne’s ability to reach into people’s hearts, to see
their true colours, and her desire to give them what they really want. But she
finds it more difficult to know what she wants from life.
Food,
prepared and eaten with love, is as central to this novel as it is in much of
the author’s other work. There are the chocolates of course, flavoured with
coconut, with rose and cardamom, with chilli to warm the heart and bring
courage. There are the peaches of the title, with their sleepy, end-of-summer
scent, and the jam and pastries Vianne makes with them. And in the home of
Vianne’s Moslem friends she catches the
exotic scents of anise and almond and rosewater and chickpeas cooked in
turmeric, and chopped mint, and toasted cardamom, and sesame pastries fried in
oil ‘flower-shaped and brittle and perfect with a glass of mint tea’.
A
Maghrébin woman tells Vianne that during Ramadan everyone fasts, but they think
about food, buy food, prepare food in readiness for the after-sunset feasts –
and dream about food when they sleep. It sounds a bit like me when I’m dieting
or in thin mode and I become totally obsessed by food, and spend hours planning
what I will eat! Vianne herself sees cooking as a kind of alchemy, and wonders
if conflicts could be solved by people talking as they share food, and perhaps she has a point and people
should eat together rather fighting. It’s a nice thought, but unlikely to
happen I suppose.
Anyway,
Peaches for Monsieur Le Curé is an easy read. It’s thoroughly enjoyable, with
some wonderfully drawn characters, and is well paced with a plot that races
along, and it’s a book I’ll read again – it’s the kind of novel I’ll turn to on
a grey day, when the world seems against me, and I want my spirits lifting
without having to think too deeply about anything.
You've nudged me into reading The Lollipop Shoes which I've been meaning to read ever since I read Chocolat - and then I'll read Peaches for Monsieur Le Curé.
ReplyDeleteI hope you don't mind but I'm writing a Book Beginnings post about Harris's second and third books and quoting from your post - with a link, of course. :)
No problem Margaret - I'm honoured to be mentioned! Hope you enjoy the books.
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