FOOTLOOSE IN FRANCE
Footloose in France is a subtly seductive book. Hot off the press, its first reader devoured it in one sitting, five hours of escapist bliss. Easy to see why - this volume has a compulsive allure,
There are dozens of books about the English in France, think of Peter Mayle with his Year in Provence for starters. but this one is unique - its chain of fascinating stories has a compelling nostalgic charm of its own. The idea began on the North Sea coast in Essex. Two friends back from a swim relax in the sudden sunshine and agree the warmth of the air and the blue sea is just like France: as the afternoon wears on ,they compare their favourite beaches, John Adamson remembers a glorious idyll at La Baule when he was sixteen and on his first solo French holiday – in the company of three gorgeous girls of his host family – whilst Clive Jackson drifts back to his time near St. Jean de Luz in the Basque Country of the South West. .
Amazingly - mind you ,they are both considerable linguists now - they first wrote the book in French (clearly, they got much more out of time in France than most people) and then translated it. Yet mercifully, the English version is not peppered with untranslated bits of know-it-all French. The approach is straightforward ,the style a tad old fashioned, particularly Clive’s ( for many readers a huge plus). But it is absolutely packed to the gunnels with brilliant details of people, places, meals – stories of love, disappointment, dismay, marriage and tragic death.
The volume has two tracks - John, a Devon man, heads for Paris and by sheer – admirable (disappointment- paved ) persistence, gets a translation job in a very grand bank in the boulevard des Capucines. He replaces Ronald Buckley ‘call me Ron’ who’s off on vacation for some weeks. Clive , Londoner, has a fabulous stint in a vineyard in Southwest France, no pay but a lavish lunch every day and each evening “there was a twilight dinner washed down with plenty of wine, followed by dancing in one of the grand rooms of the château, all the armchairs pushed back against the walls. What a contrast to the heaving dance floor of the Whisky à Gogo Club in London where I spent many a Saturday night.” There he falls in love with the beautiful Marianne ( to find out how that turns out you will have to buy the book ) but he is headed for the remote village in the Pyrenees where he is to teach for a year. The vineyard farewell gift, a bottle of the finest vintage wine.
Meanwhile John’s life in early seventies Paris just gets more and more alluringly glamorous. Every detail is here, from the time he went into a salon for a haircut and came out with an elaborate mini- perm and wavy hair to his astonishing stint as a film extra in several famous French films. For a role as a sinister riot policeman in a brutal squad ,he has to cut his hair short – passers-by thought the actors were the real thing which made John want to shout ‘We’re only film extras.”
Language counts. Life conducted in French brings out a completely different side of us Brits. Whilst John gets the job of making contact with film star Alain Delon on an enviously luscious luxurious trip to Aix en Provence where the celebrated star lived, he reflects on how different his personality is when he speaks French
” In actual fact, on this occasion and on many others, the ability to speak French provided me with a weapon “. it made him . “bolder and aim higher than I might have done in my native tongue”. It worked. He was soon dining with Delon’s agent, astonished to be living the dream in the most delightful part of Provence.
It is not just speaking French, although that is a huge achievement, it is the liberation from British reserve, from shyness, modesty, fearfulness and above all, I do believe, the oppressive class system that has us all nervously comparing ourselves with one another as to who is higher on the ladder – Monty Python style. It was George Bernard Shaw who told us that whenever anyone opens their mouth to speak English, they betray their background status and wealth in a few words. John Adamson tells us “On opening my mouth to speak in a foreign language I was hiding parts of my make-up which would automatically be revealed if I were speaking English. I exploited that for all it was worth”.
I predict this slim volume will become a quiet best seller. It has all the quirky fun of an authentic adventure, a trove of fascinating real-life tales – whilst it reveals the real France in all its remarkable differentness. And when have we ever tired of that?
Available at Waterstones and Heffers £9.99 published by johnadamsonbooks.com
