memoirs

In an unpretentious manner, the strong yet empathetic Turnbull relates the transition from her Australian home to a new life with her French fiance, adding a good twist of dry, self-deprecating humor. A freelance journalist, Turnbull has a knack for describing the salient and entertaining episodes succinctly yet vividly, which prevents the story from descending into monotony. From meeting her husband's extended family to attending haute couture fashion shows, Turnbull candidly assesses her new environment. She also takes the stereotypes of French culture, such as the obsession with aesthetics, acknowledges their basis in reality, and then delves deeper to find an explanation for each. Turnbull's love for her husband tempers the frustration and humiliation she experiences while mastering not only the language but also the idiosyncratic rules and customs of the French. This enjoyable and insightful book is suitable for public library collections

This is a rare gem. A wonderfully scripted book with the appropriate amount of wit and humuor thrown in, I was hoping for more when I finished reading it. Sarah Turnbull has given us an intimate amount of how she adapts to city life in France. It is a refreshing account of life in a foreign culture. Unlike books by Peter Mayle, Carole Drinkwater which tend to be stories of country living, this book give a glimpse into city life which is what many of us are familiar with. One can also learn more about the French way of thinking (told with extreme wit and sometimes, exasperation), living, communicating and dealing with bureacracy. I highly recommend this book to all who want to know the French a little more, to find out how a girl in her twenties mustered up the courage to stay with a Frenchman she barely knew during her gap year and finally settled down for good in this foreign land that is more than half the globe away from her native Australian home and how she adapted and became "almost french", all amid a hilarious read. I caught myself chuckling away in a cafe and the subway while reading this book. Of course, no one then understood why and could have labelled me crazy, but only if they knew what a book "Almost French" is.

Sarah Turnbull, an Australian journalist, takes a year off work to travel. While she is roaming around Europe she meets a Parisian named Frederic, who invites her to visit him in Paris. It sounds like a good idea at the time; she does, although by the time her plane lands at Charles de Gaulle she is beginning to wonder what possessed her to agree to stay with essentially a complete and total stranger.

The visit goes well, though; so well, in fact, that she moves permanently not just to Paris, but into Frederic's apartment. The memoir that follows is a charming and amusing account of two cultures, embodied by two very different people -- the uptight, nattily dressed Frenchman and the casual, easy-going Aussie -- trying to coexist in a small space. He is appalled when she wears her sweat pants to pick up her morning baguette ("But it's not nice for the baker!"); she doesn't understand his sense of humor. This is a happy story that ends with a wedding, but not before the author has myriad battles with the language, countless misunderstandings with the the customs of the place, and some truly homesick spells yearning for Australia.

I found this book laugh-out-loud funny (although I'll admit my reaction may have been a little extreme) because I have spent time in Paris and saw myself very clearly in Ms. Turnbull's language struggles, efforts to get a journalistic career going, and just general befuddlement. I've passed my copy on to some travelling companions who felt the same way I did. But even if you've never been to France, "Almost French" is well-worth reading for the entertainment value alone. The descriptions are apt. The voice is personable and interesting, so much so that by the time you've finished, you'll feel not just that you've visited Paris, but as if you've made a new friend while you were there.