I spent Fourth of July weekend immersed in A Season for That, Lost and Found in the Other Southern France, Steve Hoffman’s chronicle of the six months that he, his wife, and their two young children spent in Autignac in the Languedoc…a decision motivated, to a large extent, on the memory of his time in Paris as a young man.

Autignac is a modest, slow-paced village. It is nothing like that other South of France. Assimilation at the start seems an impossible goal. “You will never be accepted here,” the Hoffmans are told. “Everything is okay,” he says. “This isn’t working,” his wife says. Despite that rocky start, his wife, son, and daughter gradually begin to shed their “outsideness”; Hoffman can’t. He worries about over-stepping, offending. The postcard-style emails that he fires off to family feel like a ruse. Then, one day, he finds himself writing, really writing, for no one other than himself. That’s the first of many cracks in the armor. It’s tiny, but I’m grateful for it because otherwise, we wouldn’t have this book.

Of course, Hoffman isn’t the only one on this expedition. His wife’s very direct but loving nudging makes me think I could learn a thing or two from her, and the glimpses of her artistry are captivating (see note below) The family interactions ring resoundingly true, and it’s worthy of note how well these children roll with the punches. (Aren’t there times when we all should be learning from our kids?) The author’s moving, empathetic interactions with them, particularly with his son, truly touched me.

As you’d expect, things start rocky, smooth out a bit, then bump along until they begin to resolve amid the vines, in the backbreaking, painstaking, messy work of the vendange (the grape harvest).

I’m a card-carrying francophile. I’ve been to France, and I’ve read dozens of books about living there, from Hemingway to M.F.K.Fisher, to Julia Child and Peter Mayle. A Season for That holds up well against those giants of the genre.

Hoffman writes the people of Autignac in an easy, authentic way; they are never presented as caricatures. He writes place—the village, the landscape, the vines—with luxurious, vivid description. He writes action (all that work in the vines!) with the gusto of a 1960s western.

So that you can discover this gem on your own, that’s all I’m going to share, except to say that this is an impressive debut, deeply personal but never whiney or self-indulgent. If you love books about France, this belongs on your bookshelf.

Note: Cover photo from a village in that other Southern France. The vineyard is in the Languedoc.

Note: Mary Jo Hoffman is an artist/naturalist/photographer/blogger whose book STILL: The Art of Noticing was released in May of this year.

Note: I received a complimentary pre-publication copy of this book. I was never asked to review it but of course wanted to. One of the greatest pleasures in my life is sharing books I love; another is encouraging talented writers.