elizabetta

Re-read for the test-of-time challenge. (first read; 5/3/2011)

"Some days, I can almost feel too lucky to live. What have I ever done, to deserve this? The words might as well be painted in great white sky-­letters above my head, like clouds that follow me around and never rain on me."

And so it begins. Slow, lazy day, and Charlie is fishing off his canal boat, catching fat brown trout, and along comes the lovely Matthieu strolling the towpath; eyes meet, fate is set.

Just as seductively sweet the third time round, I love the intoxicating, joie de vivre the author steeps his writing in, lulling me softly, inexorably into another painting of life and love-found in the French countryside.

"Honey to look at, salt on the tongue, and then a lingering aftertaste, a spicy eau de cologne laid down over the taste of him, the man himself: he was as complex as his wine. And that was only the skin of him, and only what my mouth could discover there... touch was something else... a silky-smooth resilience with the firm shift of muscle beneath, like fish in water... like nothing, truly, except himself."

This is the first book in Lane's 'French Wine' series, all of them excellent, escapist summer reading. Highly recommended.