One of the first French novels I read, in French, was Francois Mauriac’s Le Mystère Frontenac. I was only 16 and struggled with this deeply Catholic and conservative author, whose novels revealed the psychological struggles of his characters, grappling with spiritual salvation and earthly desires. I was also somewhat confused that there wasn’t a “mystery” in the traditional Agatha Christie style. However, in spite of the confusion, I enjoyed the novel and went on to read more.
The aspect of Mauriac’s novels that has stayed with me most is his portrayal of French life, the landscape and, in particular, the houses and domestic life of France.
Mauriac’s novels are set in Bordeaux, but the vernacular architecture of Normandy, where we are currently staying, feels exactly like so many of his descriptions. There is also the same feeling of quiet, especially during the heat of the midday sun, that I associate with Mauriac’s novels. A sense of brooding lies over the countryside, which is very hard to put into words, but which seeps into you, when you’re here.
So, I’m not at all surprised that so many of the houses around Champsecret and Domfront remind me of Mauriac’s descriptions.