The year does not begin in January. That’s both the first sentence of Stephen Clarke’s A Year in the Merde and a microcosm for French culture if there ever was one.

I just finished reading Clarke’s smart-ass funny and well-written ficition about Paul West, a 27-year old Englishmen who spends a year in Paris. West’s adventures trying to set up a chain of tea rooms for a French beef conglomerate revolve around the side of Paris few people get to see. Stories of sex romps with various women, the real way to order coffee, how to exploit socialiast-based government handouts and more make for a great story.

Being in my late twenties and absolutely taken with Parisian culture, this pick-up was a no-brainer. It made for great reading in short bursts but could be read end-to-end in a weekend all the same.

A Year in the Merde is also probably the best way to understand the French without having to visit. And after reading it you’ll either never want to go or try to jump on the next flight out.