Book Review: Every Frenchman Has One by Olivia de Havilland

The title is misleading: does it refer to the legendary French mistress? A jaunty beret? A striped scarf? A massive, er, ego?

The answer, of course, is a decided non. Instead, the British-born, American-raised actress Olivia de Havilland refers instead to the foundation of all good health (according to the French anyway), the liver. (Never mind that every Frenchwoman has one as well, but I suppose that would make for a longer title, no?)

Written in the late 1950′s, after Miss de Havilland moved to Paris and became Mrs. Pierre Galant, the book narrates her various “adventures” navigating her way through the thicket of French culture and tradition. There’s the obligatory chapter on French fashion, the amusing if somewhat overlong chapter on her struggles learning how to “translate” Centigrade into Fahrenheit, and the delightful one describing how she fell happily into the French custom of reviving one’s health at a spa on an annual basis. Being a devout spa-lover myself (if not necessarily a spa-goer, primarily because of the matter of finance, or lack thereof), I loved that last chapter in particular. Husband and wife visited the spa town of Montecatini in northern Italy, where an abundance of volcanic springs apparently has allowed local experts in that sort of thing to dispense various waters to supplicants seeking cures for all manner of ailments.

Short and written in a breezy manner, the chapters unfold in no particular order, jumping from one topic to the next, but always adhering to the general theme of France as an interesting specimen to analyze. That’s not meant to be condescending, although at times Miss de Havilland appears to be a wee bit too bewildered, as if she had landed on an alien planet and was surrounded by incomprehensible creatures who are so different from what she’d known that her curiosity is tinged with a little fear. Exaggerated for effect, I’m sure, but in the hindsight of 45 or so years, it can be tiring as well as occasionally annoying. Miss de Havilland, the French are people, too.

In any case, it’s a very quick read — I finished it in two hours — and a funny introduction into some of the things that make France unique. I’d recommend it to any Francophile, especially those interested in what Paris was like at a particular point in history, a time when the greater world was enjoying a somewhat temporary peace and Paris still bore traces of its prewar glory.

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