The widow Francois Simon runs a small creperie
in Les Laveuses, a sleepy village on the River Loire. The story she needs to
get off her chest provides two narratives, one covering events in her youth
that trouble her, and the other covering why it must and how it can be told.
What links the two strands is that no-one in
Les Laveuses knows that the widow Simon, who bought the old derelict Dartigen
farm a few years since, is the same Framboise Dartigen who left there as a
twelve year old girl in the aftermath of the German occupation in the Second
World War. She keeps her identity secret for good reason. People died in the
occupation; other people got blamed; and residents of Les Laveuses have long
memories and revile the name of Dartigen.
All would have remained well enough had not
the renown of her culinary creations (based on her mother’s recipes encoded in
an album left to Framboise) come to the notice of her nephew’ wife. She is a
Paris food journalist; she wants the recipes and is not above dirty tricks,
including threat of exposure to the locals, to get them.
The two narratives unfold in parallel. The
child Framboise runs wild on the banks of the Loire: battling her mother,
manipulating her older siblings, and getting too close to an enigmatic young
German soldier. The widow Framboise finds her creperie subject to fierce and
unfair competition. The two wars showcase Framboise’s character, but there are
rarely winners and losers in war, just survivors.
The descriptive prose is well flavoured with
culinary references that enhance rather than intrude on the narrative. The
relationships are complex, motivations unsure, and outcomes uncertain until the
twin climaxes arrive.
A riveting, deliciously written book.