french exit by dewitt

Disclaimer: Thanks to House of Anansi for this review copy. Patrick deWitt is one of my favourite authors (see previous reviews) and I was very pleased to be offered a copy.

Description: Downton Abbey meets the American version of The Office in this quirky novel about two socialites—a mother and grown son—who spend all their inheritance money and then exile themselves to Paris.

Frances Price is revered in New York social circles. She’s beautiful, wealthy, and dismissive of almost everyone, which makes her all the more desirable as a party guest. Her son Malcolm, 32, dotes on her and doesn’t do much of anything. The book opens with the pair excusing themselves from a boring hostess and then making pithy quips and snide remarks about the evening. Malcolm has pinched a picture frame, and apparently he has a habit of choosing parting gifts for himself.

Their following exploits include a flash sale of their possessions to pay for passage to Paris, a dalliance with the ship’s captain (Frances) and the fortune teller (Malcolm), smuggling a cat into France, riding a bicycle around the Paris flat, and hosting lavish dinner parties until the money is truly all gone.

Billed as “tragedy of manners,” this is a weird little satire that deWitt pulls off nicely.

Favourite Moment: Partway through their Paris adventure the pair meet Mme Reynard. During a drinking session she jumps up and accidentally cracks her head on an iron light hanging low over the table. Dr. Touche makes a house call.

Soon came Dr. Touche, a sleepy-eyed and swarthy man with the hands of a female adolescent. Mme Reynard had asked him to bring along a bottle of champagne but he’d refused, citing an aversion to it, and brought instead a bottle of Cote-de-Brouilly, which they could none of them drink, for it was corked. Dr. Touche was greatly put out by this, and he rang his wine merchant while all in the room sat watching as he described the embarrassment occasioned by the spoiled bottle. “What must these people think of me?” he asked, at which point Mme Reynard began calling out compliments. Dr. Touche waved her down, resuming his conversation: “Well?” he said. “How will you go about making this right?” He listened for a time, holding one finger aloft; now he nodded. “Yes. I think that’s the only way. Do you have a pencil?” He gave the wine merchant Frances and Malcolm’s address and hung up the phone. “He’ll be with us shortly,” he told the group.

 

Perfect Read for fans of deWitt’s previous works (did you know The Sisters Brothers is being made into a film?) Also great for anyone who likes The Windsors on Netflix, the comedic soap opera / parody of the British royal family. It’s the exact opposite of The Crown, more like National Lampoon’s Vacation. French Exit is not slapstick, but it is a look at the baffling absurdity of the incredibly rich.

 

Watch for Patrick deWitt at Writers Festivals in Fall 2018.