Review
A charming memoir by a passionate Francophile - Kirkus Reviews
At the age of 57, Alexander decided to fulfill his lifelong dream of learning French. His 13-month marathon of language learning included five levels of Rosetta Stone, two Pimsleur audio courses, hundreds of podcasts, 52 TV episodes of French in Action,two immersion classes (one, in France, lasting two weeks), reading dual-language books, watching TV5Monde, emailing with a French pen pal and Skyping with another. Alexander's love affair with French, he concludes in this wry and warmhearted memoir, has reaped unexpected rewards.
Highly readable..Mr. Alexander presents himself as an apprentice, but the reader quickly discovers he is also a master teacher . . . Mr. Alexander even manages a highly readable gloss of Noam Chomsky's linguistic theory, a feat of intellectual distillation akin to 'Jacques Derrida for Dummies.'"--
Wall Street Journal"One of American's funniest writers has done it again...Très, très bien!" --
CounterpunchHow old is too old to learn something new?
Bon courage, mes amis. As Alexander discovers, French is the least of it when you've reached late middle age...He throws himself into learning to speak French with Gérard Depardieu-like gusto in a George Plimpton-like stunt...But he never gives up. He hurls himself at French again and again almost like a cartoon character who, smacking up against a slammed door, slides to the floor in a puddle of humiliation. --
The New York Times Book Review“[Alexander] deals with a lot of pangs, yearnings and fears that readers, especially those around his age--57 when he set out to learn French--can identify with . . . The appeal of Flirting with French is not in the breathless descriptions of Paris or the bad puns in the chapter titles, but in the author’s amiable dunderheadedness as he delves into the culture, with all its confounding contradictions.” —The New York Times Book Review
“While language learners are a natural audience for this book, there is no prerequisite. Anybody who liked Alexander’s previous books or just likes to see an underdog try to beat the odds will enjoy this voyageur’s latest adventure.” —Minneapolis Star Tribune
“Alexander presents himself as an apprentice, but the reader quickly discovers he is also a master teacher . . . Alexander even manages a highly readable gloss of Noam Chomsky's linguistic theory, a feat of intellectual distillation akin to ‘Jacques Derrida for Dummies.’” —The Wall Street Journal
“One of America's funniest writers . . . Très, très bien!" —Counterpunch
“A charming memoir by a passionate Francophile . . . Alexander's love affair with French, he concludes in this wry and warmhearted memoir, has reaped unexpected rewards.” —Kirkus Reviews
“Flirting with French is hilarious and touching, all the way to the surprise ending. In this 'travelogue' about learning French, William Alexander proves that learning a new language is an adventure of its own--with all the unexpected obstacles, surprising breakthroughs and moments of sublime pleasure traveling brings.” —Julie Barlow, author of Sixty Million Frenchmen Can’t Be Wrong
“Flirting with French is far more than a fling; it’s a deep love affair. A blend of passion and neuroscience, this literary love affair offers surprise insights into the human brain and the benefits of learning a second language. Reading William Alexander's book is akin to having an MRI of the soul. A surprise delight that will ignite desire in every reader.” —Laura Shaine Cunningham, author of Sleeping Arrangements
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Review quotes)
From the Author
One reader told me that
Flirting with French was
The $64 Tomato, but with Frenchman instead of groundhogs. My resident groundhog takes offense, but I hope that my losses at French are the readers' gain -- and laughter. Whether you've failed to learn French or Italian, Spanish or German, if you've ever tried to learn a foreign language, you'll relate to my experiences.
I might've learned more French if I'd spent less time delving into such mysteries as why a lamp has a gender; why the French have a dedicated word for "husband" but not for "wife," and where the heck is the hand-held universal language translator that Captain Kirk used 40 years ago, but someone has to answer these questions, so it may has well be
moi.
I invite you to join me in my quest to become French.
Au revoir!