C'est La Folie is a gentle very positive tale written by an endearing author who considers his readers - perhaps, their fast- paced Blighty lifestyle (and with less cheerful sunshine than he enjoys in France), perhaps, too, a person only able to read a chapter here, or there - so Michael Wright generously reminds the reader of a name or incident. The reminders are never patronising or irritating. They radiate kindliness.
The book is packed with anecdotes, while his analogies about animals, or workmen, or lovesickness for his grand piano, even the flights in his aeroplane, are evocative. He captures something `lost' from modern society, without judgement or wistfulness, and gives it back to his readers in spades. I'd rather read 10 books by Michael Wright than a typical selection of so-called bestsellers, faithfully columned each weekend in our broadsheets.
A copyright issue, perhaps? "Today is Monday. I've given myself a week to find a house near an aerodrome." It is this reviewer's hope that C'est La Folie will be published in large-print as soon as possible: not just because of the scandalous dearth of large-print in the non-fiction genre but, also, because Michael Wright (like Nicholas Crane's Clear Waters Rising, and Peter Mortimer's Broke Through Britain) has that pure gift of taking you with them...in words, yes, but their `words' dance from within themselves.
C'est La Folie is an excellent read - at any level, and for most age groups. And for visually impaired people to have the chance to read it in large-print, would indeed be a treasure trove - especially if in paperback to reduce the weight for frail, housebound people. And, please remember, deaf people cannot always enjoy audio books.