The most recommended books on Provence France

M.F.K. Fisher was not only one of our greatest food writers, she was one of our greatest writers, period. Fisher lived for long periods in France, and the result of two of these sojourns is Two Towns in Provence, which is about Marseille and Aix-en-Provence. These two iconic towns are a mere forty miles apart in distance but worlds apart in temperament, character, and spirit. Fisher captures both of their personalities with her exquisite prose, guided by her sympathy and love for these cities and their people. She is especially wonderful at capturing Marseille, a city that has been called mysterious, even unknowable. You cannot have a better guide to two of France’s most renowned and remarkable cities.

No one wrote about the South of France with more affection and understanding than Marcel Pagnol. He was a novelist, playwright, director, and memoirist. Pagnol’s family had a small house in the hills near Marseille where they spent summers. His book, My Father’s Glory, is about those months Pagnol spent there as a child and about his family, mostly his father. (The companion book, My Mother’s Castle, concerns his mother more.) The story of his aunt’s sweet, delicate courtship with his eventual uncle is worth reading the book alone. If you’re like me, you will come away from reading this book wishing you’d been part of Pagnol’s kind and joyous family and his life in this little corner of France. The good news is that with this book, you very nearly are.

The American novelist Henry Miller who loved France described Giono as "one of if not the greatest writer of the twentieth century." This novel is set in deep Provence and tells the tale of a lone shepherd who dedicates his life to reforesting a desolate valley area at the foothills of the Alps. Over forty years he plants his saplings, right up until his death, by which time the valley has been transformed into a paradise for men, creatures, and plants. The writing is sublime, poetic, and inspirational. This story is as relevant today as it was when written seventy years ago.  A must-read.

In December 1970, a group of acclaimed American culinary experts met in Provence, where Julia Child had a holiday house, planning to celebrate Christmas together. Joining them were food writer Richard Olney and novelists Sybille Bedford and Eda Lord, all living relatively close. Barr, Fisher's grandnephew relies on her journal and letters to recreate their sumptuous tables in delectable detail. Alas, hopes for a joyous gathering of friends soured as egos clashed and petty rivalries intervened; MFK left abruptly and spent Christmas alone in Avignon. What interests me is how these authorities on French cuisine engaged with the French, the relationship between the 'French' cooking they portrayed and the food of the French, and their response to the changes creeping into France post-1968.

When I am overwhelmed by awful news about plagues, wars, ecological disasters, financial implosions, and the rise of homegrown American fascism, I find it oddly comforting to learn about earlier eras when everything was falling apart. That’s why – every few years – I reread A Dream of Scipio.

The story takes place in a single village in France, but at three different times when the End of the World was nigh: the final days of the Roman Empire when the barbarians actually were at the gate; the months of the medieval Black Death, when the whole world seemed to be dying; and the years of the Nazi-occupation of France, when European civilization was devolving into mechanized savagery.

This novel is about finding a way to behave ethically in a time when doing so can get you killed. Sometimes there is a price for being decent and kind and humane.… show more.

Like Jean Giono, Marcel Pagnol was a true Provençal, born in the town of Aubagne in 1895. The Water of the Hills comprises two novels written as one continuous saga, Jean de Florette and Manon of the Springs. The characters and storylines are Provençal in every detail. Pagnol’s descriptions of the landscape, the people, and challenges conjure up magnificently this rural corner in the hills above Marseille. The stories are set between the two great wars. Pagnol was as acclaimed as a filmmaker as he was a novelist. His works are elegant, full of humanity and wit. He has an unerring eye for the frailties and unkindnesses in man and how twists of fate and nature play their roles in rectifying the world. 

In 1946 Pagnol became the first filmmaker to be elected to the Académie française. A giant among storytellers.

Provence has inspired hundreds of books, but Lawrence Durrell captures better than most what he calls its 'real nature'. His book is both personal response (he lived for many years at Sommières, north of Nimes) and historical reflection, particularly on the Roman legacy – a legacy that includes wine and olive oil, perennial staples of the Provençal table. Although Caesar occupied the whole of France, nowhere is the Roman imprint more omnipresent than in Provence; living near Carpentras, we daily dreamed of finding our fortune in an ancient Roman coin, shining through the dust of a lonely track. Durrell's language is poetic, his imagery evocative: the 'Socratic austerity' of a game of boules, the 'felicity and eloquence' of Provençal skies. As a companion to Provence, Durrell is my pick.

Book 1 in Gill’s Troubadour series opens in Provence, in 1150. A young runaway wakes in a ditch protected by a huge white dog. The girl becomes the celebrated lutist Estela at the court of Alienor of Aquitaine. Her tutor, then lover, is the Queen’s finest troubadour, Dragonetz los Pros. Using Jewish money and Moorish expertise, Dragonetz builds a paper mill, bringing him into desperate conflict with the Christian Church. This is a compelling story woven into real events: the writing is captivating, the history fascinating. Jean Gill is one of those authors who can ‘take you there’. I was watching what was happening and fearing for the safety of the protagonists to the last page. History, action, and a not-too-treacly romance. A great read all round.

This is the story of four best friends and their families who head to Southern France for a birthday celebration.

The setting is seemingly idyllic while the atmosphere starts off light and playful, lulling both the readers and characters into a false sense of security when in fact danger looms just around the corner.

The main character is policewoman Kate who uncovers something deeply unsettling almost as soon as she arrives in France. Logan expertly captures her escalating inner turmoil and desperation to discover the truth, while her relationships with others become increasingly strained.

I found his use of interweaving plotlines gripping, focussed on ordinary people in relationships we can all relate to, while keeping me in suspense right up to the exciting finale.

Most everyone knows Vincent van Gogh spent time in the South of France. Most of us know he was a tortured soul and that he spent time in an asylum in Saint Rémy. And most of us know his wonderful painting, The Starry Night, which was painted in Saint Rémy. Since so much of the exquisite joy of the South of France is visual, who better to represent that visual beauty than Vincent van Gogh, one of the greatest painters to ever put brush to canvas? But what you may not know is that Vincent was one of our greatest letter writers as well. He wrote many to his brother, Theo, and reading these letters you cannot help but see Provence through Van Gogh’s remarkable eyes.