Contemplating all things France lately (or, mostly, Joan of Arc as I read Kathryn Harrison’s 2014 biography of the Maid of Orléans), I glide on the arm of the Brawny Sherpa into La Crémaillère in Bedford, N.Y. one gray, soggy…
History, for me, is best understood in manageable nuggets. I keep targeting the French revolution because of the convergence of so many ideas: the roles of church, state, kings, budgets, freedom, violence, revenge. I can’t imagine I’ll ever understand it,…