Customer Reviews

Chocolat

5 star:		(93)
4 star:		(69)
3 star:		(33)
2 star:		(18)
1 star:		(9)

 

 

In an accomplished fiction debut, Chocolat, English author Joanne Harris offers an intriguing modern day morality tale laced with a soupcon of sorcery. The combatants in this deliciously different take on the eons old tug-of-war between good and evil are a young woman, the daughter of a self-proclaimed witch, and a platitudinous curate.

As she struggles to find her place in the world and he equivocates to protect dusty tradition, they vie for the hearts and loyalties of some 200 French villagers, inhabitants of Lansquenet-sous-Tannes, "no more than a blip on the fast road between Toulouse and Bordeaux."

Ms. Harris displays an original voice in perfect pitch as she depicts the cowed, affection starved townspeople. Her meticulous character imagery is telling: Francis Reynaud, the guilt-ridden parish cure' with his cold eyes and "the measuring, feline look of one who is uncertain of his territory;" the 81-year-old Armande Voizin "with a smile that worked her apple-doll face into a million wrinkles;" and the venal wife-beater, Muscat, who struts "stiff-legged like a dog scenting a fight."

Vianne Rocher and her six-year-old daughter are wanderers. They arrive in Lansquenet on Shrove Tuesday, where their appearance is greeted with veiled curiosity by villagers who "have learned the art of observation without eye contact." Battle lines are drawn when Vianne opens La Celeste Praline, a gaily decorated confectioner's shop on the town square, directly across from the austere St. Jerome's church overseen by Pere Reynaud.

It is Lent, the priest has decreed abstinence, deprivation. Yet, Vianne's shop is a "red-and-gold confection," her window a proliferation of truffles, pralines, Venus's nipples, candied fruits, hazelnut clusters, candied rose petals, all there to tempt Reynaud's parishioners. He sees it as a disgrace, a degradation of the faith, and eventually preaches against Vianne from his pulpit.

When a band of gypsies moor their colorful houseboats at the village's small harbor, the prelate asks them to leave. Vianne welcomes them, further infuriating Reynaud. Weakened by his self-imposed Lenten fasts, he denies his hunger and watches her shop with "loathing and fascination" as he begins plotting to rid Lansquenet of what he believes is her evil influence.

One of Vianne's staunchest allies is a kindred spirit, the elderly Armande, the village's oldest inhabitant who delights in reminding Reynaud "of things best forgotten," and dares to invite the gypsies to remain as her guests. At times fearful of the consequences, Vianne turns to her mother's cards, seeking an answer in augury. Nonetheless, she stands her ground, even making plans for a "Grand Festival Du Chocolat" on Easter Sunday. It would be a celebration with games in the square and a riot of sweets in the shop. But Reynaud sees it as an affront, an excess, he would have "The egg, the hare, still living symbols of the tenacious roots of paganism exposed for what they are."

Wisely compressing her provocative narrative to the days between Shrove Tuesday and Easter Monday, the author uses impeccable pacing in leading to Reynaud's final assault, an effort to destroy the festival and Vianne along with it.

A surprising yet fitting denouement caps this deftly told tale of lust, greed and love. Francophiles will be drawn to the evocative descriptions of daily village life, while gourmands revel in the mouth-watering descriptions of chocolate preparation. All will relish the skillful pen of Joanne Harris. Chocolat is to be savored.

I don't think I've ever read a book quite like Chocolat before. The plot is fairly simple: Vianne Rocher, a wanderer with a young daughter, arrives in Lansquenet on Shrove Tuesday. Something about the village appeals to her, despite the looming presence of the Black Man, the local priest, and she decides to stay. Taking the lease on an old bakery directly across the road from the church, she opens a chocolaterie.

A chocolate shop. In *Lent*! Thus Vianne arouses the fury of Reynard, the priest, while at the same time gradually seducing many of the townspeople one by one with the delicious smell and taste of chocolate, and her uncanny ability to divine everyone's 'favourite'. Does Vianne have some sort of supernatural powers? Can she read minds? Harris never completely answers that question, but then the first-person narrative allows Vianne to reveal only as much as she wishes, and she herself rejects any suspicion of such abilities. And yet the Tarot cards are still ever-present, as are the strange dreams and visions.

Reynaud, the priest, whose own first-person narrative takes up about a quarter of the book, is another fascinating character. Overly self-righteous and determined to be in control of everything in the village, he takes immediate exception to *Mademoiselle* Rocher and her chocolaterie, and sees it as his mission to wean his flock away from her. But he has secrets as well, some of which are suspected by the old woman Armande (another fascinating character).

As Harris takes us inexorably towards Easter, it's clear that some sort of confrontation is coming between the old habits and the new, the dull darkness of conformity and the glad brightness of joy, and the priest and the chocolate-woman. But exactly what form does it take? You'll have to read for yourself.

Oh, and don't forget to savour the secondary characters: Vianne's daughter Anouk, Armande, Guillaume and his beloved dog, Josephine the kleptomaniac who is married to a drunked wife-beater, Roux the proud gypsy and many more.

When I bought this book last month, Lent had just begun and I found it was the perfect time to read this lovely little book!

The story takes place between Ash Wednesday and Easter and delightfully portrays true kindness and charity by using the symbolism surrounding the sweetness and comfort of chocolate. The local priest and his "groupies" distrust the new young woman who has come to their sleepy town and opened the small, warm, inviting chocolate shop just acros from his church. Chocolate represents for them decadence and evil - where for the townsfolk, it opens their eyes to lifes' joy they have been missing. As Easter - and a Chocolate Festival - approach, the "penitent" feel they must stop the festival - but we find that the forty days of Lent have taught this little town the true meanings of Christianity. Wonderfully seen from two points of view - one accepting and open, the other skeptical and closed-minded, the books' characters blossom as they stop in at the little chocolate shop. It's a story of winter turning to spring, of distrust turning to trust, of good triumphing over evil - and of chocolate delights so well-described you can taste them!

What happens when an out-of-towner moves into an old-fashioned, quaint French village, opens up a chocolate shop across the street from a church during Lent, and charms most of the neighborhood with her delicious treats, easy-going manner, and her eerie talent for being able to read minds? Well, it ticks the priest off for one thing...

...which then begins an all-out war between church and chocolate, good and evil, saints and sinners. Father Francis Reynaud doesn't take much to outsiders coming into his community who do not believe in God, practice pagan rituals (most specifically Easter in the Easter bunny sense), and who tempt his parishioners with sinful chocolate at the beginning of Lent. Reynaud refers to the arrival of Vianne Rocher as a single dandelion spreading her seeds, and soon the whole town turns upside down with all sorts of goings-on.

Joanne Harris writes with a skillful, intelligent hand. Sometimes the sentences have to be read twice (what with the big words and all), but the text is pure poetry. This novel builds slowly and takes readers on a magical carpet ride. Definitely recommended to those who enjoy a sweet and sad story, a not regularly written about topic, and a writing style that's beautiful in it's symbolism, clarity and description.

I don't think it would be possible to speak about this luscious morsel of a book without breaking into confectionary prose. I found the dual narrative of the agitated and judgmental Reynaud and the tranquil and accepting Vianne both effective and delicious and the author's ability to evoke the smells and textures of the chocolate shop mouthwatering. Despite its fairy tale quality, Chocolat is very much grounded with themes -- confronting personal demons, living in an unaccepting society, the consequences of unpopular choices -- that affect us all. I'm pleased that Ms. Harris's next novel is to include the same supporting cast of villagers. While many are peripheral to the main plot, the author has developed their characters so well that I'm glad I'll have the chance to learn more about them --and satisfy my senses at the same time!

This book is excellent! I read it on a flight back from Europe, and it had me captivated. The story takes place in a charming French village, quiet and boring until a stranger come to town and opens a colorful chocolaterie. The incredible descriptions of her confections will have your mouth watering! I highly recommend this book if you enjoyed "Like Water for Chocolate" and the films "Eat, Drink, Man, Woman" and "Simply Irresistible".

I don't really know what to think of this book. True, it is a sensuous experience at times with its wonderful descriptions of the chocolate-making process. However, having lived in a small French village for six years now, I find the description of village life a little too twee and "touristy". A real village priest would never have the power that the one in the book has (at the start of the novel anyway). And the village itself is a little too idealised. Most of the people in my village would never be able to afford Vianne's chocolates. There again, the back-stabbing atmosphere of a small French village is spot-on. Read it but don't expect to find Lansquenet on your next trip to France.

If you're caught in a bit of twix, with nothing to read, then may I suggest this excellent bounty? It is produced, not by Mars of Slough, but Joanne Harris of Barnsley, a chef who excels in the art of couverture chocolate. Step into her boutique, 'La Celeste Praline', and you'll be caught unawares by her classy wares. Chocolat is a novel of great sweetness, perfect for those who like their confictionary to be well milked. For readers with richer palates, however, Harris has also produced an intoxicating blend of dark chocolate, which is - dare we say it - extremely 'topic'al. If you're looking for a few delightful snickers, and not a lengthy marathon, then this is the novel for you. It's certainly richer and more exquisite than the most popular currency of chocolate bars.

Vianne Rocher arrives in the French village of Lansquenet during its carnival, a feast before the fast of Lent. With her is daughter Anouk (who seems to be named after a chocolate treat), and Anouk's companion, the mysterious Pantoufle. Joanne Harris tends to write a lot about alchemy in connection with cooking (see her excellent new novel, 'Blackberry Wine'), but Vianne Rocher would seem to have more than culinary skills at her disposal... This is especially apparent, though, in her delicious meeting with Armande Voizin, to which there is more than meets the eye. 'Pantoufle' refers to Charles Perrault's fairy tale of Cinderella, and as such, could be a subtle hint as to Vianne's true identity... It would seem appropriate here to compare Harris' work with that of Kate Atkinson, especially with regards to her new book, Emotionally Weird. Atkinson says that she has been trying to write a fiction with all the richness of Lewis Carroll's Alice in Wonderland. But it seems to me that Joanne Harris is more adept at writing fairy tales - her characterisation is stronger, certainly. Whilst Atkinson plays with words, Harris plays with thoughts and emotions. Chocolat is full of magic and fairy tales, from the realisation of a true Gingerbread house, to Vianne's use of Pagan cards and charms.

It is holy appropriate then, that the conflict and drama within this novel stems from the masculine Church's opposition to Vianne Rocher and her culinary work. It even seems that that Joanne Harris could be engaging on a narrative in which God the Father and Mother Earth are the main combatants, featuring their eternal struggle as man and wife. Father Reynaud is the country priest who sees danger in Vianne's shop, and the novel is narrated in the first person by both of these antagonists. Reynaud relates his tale to the mysterious pere, whilst Vianne muses greatly on her long lost mother, with both 'parent' appearing to be flawed in some way. However, this struggle between the masculine and the feminine does not become too abstract, since Josephine Muscat has to bear the bruises in her role as battered wife. Chocolat has its fair share of romance, but also contains a swift punch of brutal reality.

Like Blackberry Wine, Joanne Harris has decided to serve some home truths, along with the after dinner mints. The novel deals with thorny issue of immigration, currently a hot potato in Britain, and the problems of a population which is growing ever older. The Pope's recent apologies for the crimes of Roman Catholicism also resound within. These issues may be set in the exotic French countryside, but they still have relevance to us. Okay, so the richness of the carnivalesque and the mystique of magic realism have been added to the mixture, but their presence only serves to add depth, and never confusion. Vianne has a reluctance to see her fate in the stars, but this novel has won near universal admiration and is soon to be made into a film. It's a fiction which works on so many different layers, but like a particularly rich cake, there is something within it for everyone. The author uses simple words in her prose, but the combination of these coarse ingredients is explosive. Harris certainly knows how to play on our heartstrings, to make us feel for her characters.

Current medical advice would certainly indicate that Chocolat could play a powerful part in reducing stress and lowering cholesterol. It's potent mixture: a benign, yet provoking stimulant which melts on the tongue. As for its aphrodisiac qualities, well, I can hardly say... But the only disappointment to be had from Chocolat is that it has to end.

It's a shame when a bad book like this earns undeserved praise and attention and other, better-written books are virtually ignored. The basic idea of Chocolat (good versus evil) is always interesting, even if a bit overdone, but Harris's execution of that idea leaves more than a little to be desired. Vianne Rocher, a mysterious new arrival in the small southwestern French village of Lansquenet, is far to vague to be "good," and Father Reynaud, the village priest, and the author's representation of evil, is really only a tormented soul, one to pity rather than hate. The battle between Vianne and Reynaud is completely lacking in tension and momentum and the story soon becomes nothing more than an extensive exercise in extreme boredom. The other characters are just as poorly developed and actually come off as cliches. Armande, who could have been delightful, under the guidance of a more talented author, was reduced by Harris to a caricature of an elderly, stubborn, persnickety old woman, used to getting her own way. While she could have been lovable, had she said, "Whee," one more time, even I would have felt like punching her in the face, eighty-one years old notwithstanding. The character of Josephine was so overly-melodramatic she was nothing more than silly and earned my contempt rather than my pity. Much of the book is vague. The author seems to delight in being coy with us and coyness in the service of plot or characterization is never good. Another thing that I found jarring was the fact that Harris constantly switched from present to past tense with no rhyme or reason. Other, better and more experienced writers, make a choice, so should Harris. It could only serve to improve her prose and she does need to improve it. Harris leads us on a merry goose chase, making us believe there will be a huge, climactic showdown between the Church, as personified by Reynaud, and a pagan Festival of Chocolate, as personified by Vianne. However, all this buildup only leads to one huge letdown, as Reynaud simply caves in and the chocolate festival is barely mentioned. Finally, as a 100% Frenchwoman, myself, with a home in a small French village, I found the scenes of French village life to be 95% inaccurate. I got absolutely no sense of "Frenchness" from this book at all and found it totally lacking in atmosphere. It is a shame this book made it past an editor, much less to publication. Chocolat will leave a bitter taste in my mouth for the short time I care to remember it.

I had never heard of Joanne Harris and was frankly skeptical about the rave reviews (hype, I thought) that this novel attracted. I picked up a second hand copy expecting little and was absolutely bowled over by it. It is THAT good ! "Chocolat" is written in a mouthwatering and delicious prose that leaves you drooling for more. Harris' story superficially resembles a morality play. The running battle between newcomer Vianne Rocher to Lansquenet and parish priest Francis Reynaud is often depicted as a duel between good and evil. Somehow, I don't see it that way. Vianne, the protagonist, isn't a paragon of virtue. She is far too complex a character to serve as a symbol. And Francis isn't really evil either. His half crazed obsession with conformity and determination to stamp out the unusual is born of a deep self loathing and persecution complex that deserves only our pity. Vianne is just the catalyst the small town of Lansquenet needs to release its members from the prison they inhabit and she does it with chocolate. Josephine, Luc and even Roux discover themselves from knowing and being influenced by Vianne. Grand dame Armande's dictum is to live life or be dead. She is a living testimony to the celebration of life. Harris also contrasts the hypocritical piety of Christianity with the unadorned goodness of humanity. "Chocolat" made such an exhilirating read I couldn't put it down until I finished it. It isn't particularly deep or complex in its themes but is such a hugely enjoyable novel I would recommend it unreservedly to just about anybody. Some serious readers have criticised Harris' fairytale like story for its simplemindedness. Perhaps. But like its subject (chocolate), it may not be good for you but it sure feels like heaven when you're savouring it !