“There are lots of French people who are not at all hypocritical, inefficient, aggressive, arrogant, adulterous, or incredibly sexy. They just didn’t make it into my book …”

A Year in the Merde shows the French as they really are.
They’re not cheese-eating surrender monkeys, but they do eat a lot of cheese, some of which smells like pigs’ droppings. In general, they do not wash their armpits with garlic soap. Going on strike really is the second national participation sport after pétanque. And they really do use suppositories.
Paul West, a young Englishman, arrives to set up some “English” tea-rooms in Paris and gives a laugh-out-loud account of the pleasures and perils of being a Brit in France. Less quaint than A Year in Provence, less chocolatey than Chocolat, this book will tell you how to get the best of the grumpiest Parisian waiter, how to survive French meetings, how to make perfect vinaigrette every time, and how not to buy a house in the French countryside.


Author’s note: “I would like to thank the French government for introducing the 35-hour week and giving me time to do more interesting things on a Friday afternoon than work. Merci.”