French Exit by Patrick DeWitt Review

Sixtysomething Manhattan socialite Frances, her 32 year old son Malcolm and their cat, Small Frank, live a relaxed life – until the family fortune runs out. Suddenly homeless, they head to Paris, France, to stay in a wealthy friend’s apartment where destiny awaits…

Oui - Patrick deWitt’s latest novel French Exit is tres bonne! It’s this pleasingly bizarre comedy about nutters that reads uncannily like a Wes Anderson movie by way of Arrested Development.

I read the book with Lucille and Buster Bluth in my mind as Frances and Malcolm as their characters/relationship are almost identical: Frances, the domineering, constantly-squiffy elderly mother used to a life of pampered luxury, and Malcolm, the hapless, coddled thirtysomething man-child, bumbling through life, content to be steered by his ma (though he doesn’t have Buster’s hook-hand!).

And even though you could call French Exit derivative in that regard, deWitt’s execution is so perfect and so much fun to read, I couldn’t care less – not least as I love Wes Anderson and Arrested Development!

The novel would have benefitted from an overarching plot as its directionlessness allowed for a lot of stagnation once all the characters had congregated in the Parisian apartment and the story noticeably slowed at a time – the final act – when it should be building to a climax. That and the surprisingly grim and underwhelming finale were the only aspects I disliked. I suppose the ending lives up to the title but it still felt like an awkward fit tonally for an otherwise breezy read. I was just hoping for something more imaginative and subversive.

Otherwise, there’s nothing but good stuff to revel in! The cast are a delightfully eccentric bunch, the dialogue is consistently funny, almost every scene is amusing, and the overall effect is a charming and playful read. I also loved the well-calculated element of fantasy deWitt introduced into the story with the reveal of Small Frank’s secret, displaying a refreshingly carefree lack of confinement to genre, and his subtle but pointed refusal to explain it thereafter.

French Exit is a barrel of ohoho fun. Anyone who likes Wes Anderson’s movies, Arrested Development, PG Wodehouse’s novels, and A Confederacy of Dunces, will have a blast with this one. And despite those comparisons, Patrick deWitt has crafted a beast distinctly his own. He’s done it again – this guy can’t write a bad book!