Rating: - Fantastic, Mouth-Watering
Chocolat / 0-141-00018-X

Chocolat is easily one of my favorite novels - the escapism is fantastic, the food descriptions are mouth-watering, the plot and prose are beautiful. I can hardly believe that a novel so richly packed with meaning could be so relatively short. Harris' prose here is at its finest, as we follow the narratives of Vianne, the free-spirited chocolate-creating witch, and Reynaud, the guilt-stricken oppressive village priest.

Each narrative is uniquely told, with personality quirks inherent to each, and each narrative can be subtly imperfect - Reynaud slowly descends into madness, as does his precise narrative; Vianne's fear of weakness and displacement causes her to falsely claim that she never cries, causes her to state a yearning to move on which does not exist, and causes her to doubt her own importance to her lover Roux - creating a tantalizing problem for the reader: do we believe Vianne or do we believe Roux and his actions? The problem is - like Vianne's chocolates - delicate and bitter-sweet, with possibilities abounding on either side.

Although this is a novel featuring a single mother, and a non-Christian at that, I do not believe that this novel represents an attack on any particular way of life. Vianne states, early on, that the goal of life is "to be happy" (without, of course, hurting others in the process). Though the antagonist is a priest, it is clear that he has his own individual demons, and it is *not* his office within the church which makes him evil. Several villagers are held up as examples of genuine Christians who do not flaunt their belief purely for power or social standing. Nor is this some kind of screed against men - Vianne, Josephine, and Armande are aided time and again by kind, emotionally strong men who value these women for their strength of character. Indeed, if I were to call this style of writing anything, I would call it 'humanist' - it is clear that Vianne is no less a valuable person for being a female or for being a witch; no less is Guillaume a valuable person for being a male or for being a Christian. All these people, Harris seems to be saying, are people and thus deserve love and a little bit of kindness in their life and, she suggests, the right and privilege to decide when enough is enough. (Whether or not the reader agrees is left gently to the reader - Harris is not preachy or didactic.)

I highly recommend this book for anyone - this is a book that spans gender, religion, age, and country. (Note: Chocolat is best enjoyed with a tall glass of milk and dark chocolate truffles near at hand!)