By Jean-Claude Carriere
Written as a sort of journal, this book details the holiday of the accident-prone Monsieur Hulot, as seen through the eyes of a terminally bored and jaded man on his annual holiday to some dreary beach in France. While some of the scenes are entertaining, this book ultimately failed for me because nothing really happened – no characters had a crisis or came to a greater understanding of anything about the world or the people in it. Also, I found it difficult to be sympathetic towards the character of the narrator, who obviously found his wife stupid, inane and boring and consequently his own life stupid, inane and boring but was too pathetic to do anything about it but be glad that poor old Monsieur Hulot was there to make an ass of himself and liven things up a bit.
When I saw this book at ye olde second-hand book sale I had a vague idea that it had been turned into a movie of some repute and therefore may be of literary merit. I have to say I was disappointed. When will I ever learn!!!
Rating: 3 out of 10
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