“I liked murderers. I thought them interesting. Had not my grandfather been one when he killed the journalist? And my great-granduncle Napoleon, what a monumental murderer he was!” – Marie Bonaparte

 
Welcome back! After a long break to buy new soundproofing equipment – which may or may not have been successful – we’re back with a new miniseries. I’m excited, as I think we’re covering one of the most interesting subjects this show has ever covered: the heiress, philanthropist and pioneering psychoanalyst Marie Bonaparte. Naturally, if we’re going to discuss a pioneering child psychologist we have to go back to the beginning and tell the story of her family – and oh, what a family!
Episode 71: “Marie, The Last Bonaparte”






Transcript
Bienvenue and welcome back to The Land of Desire. I’m your host, Diana, and each month I provide a glimpse into French history and culture. As I’ve settled into my new apartment, it took a little longer than I’d hoped to set up a new recording studio, and I had to order some new equipment. It was a blessing in disguise, as this delay gave me time to really luxuriate in the research of this month’s subject, someone who might be one of my favorite characters ever featured on this show. 
 
Marie Bonaparte is what I like to call a fascinating woman, the kind of woman who spends her life being unconventional, pioneering, wildly interesting and getting away with it all by being very rich. Her life story is outrageous, shocking, and almost too on the nose metaphorically: she’s the descendant of the man who swept away the Ancien Regime, and used her inheritance to drag Europe into the modern age. Marie Bonaparte was blessed and cursed with a larger-than-life family, and this obsession with family brought her into contact with the ultimate expert on the subject: Sigmund Freud. From a line of tyrants, murderers and emperors, Marie’s own enduring legacy is that of an advocate for the refugee, the child, and the visionary. While her ancestors traded on their power, their money and their name to acquire more of the same, Marie Bonaparte used her influence to push for newer worlds, broader minds and safer harbors. She experimented with her sexuality, she launched an illustrious career, and she saved the life of one of the greatest minds of the 20th century. Marie Bonaparte’s life is far too interesting to fit into a single episode. To begin – and with Freud, where else could you begin? – we’ll focus on Marie Bonaparte’s family. Perhaps you’ve heard of them. Along the way, we’ll encounter royal refugees, lions, murderers, Hitler, a seriously weird uncle, Edgar Allen Poe, Queen Elizabeth, Leonardo da Vinci, and more. This month, settle in for the fascinating story of Her Royal Highness, Princess Marie of Greece and Denmark, the last Bonaparte.
 

 
“I do not believe that any man in the world is more unfortunate in his family than I am.” So wrote Napoleon Bonaparte in 1810, after facing another disappointment from his sprawling, fractious family. To give a little credit to the family in question, Bonaparte was as tyrannical over the dinner table as he was over the continent. In the first year of his empire, Napoleon wrote to one of his lieutenants that he expected absolute loyalty, subservience and obedience from his family if they wanted to share in his glory and power. “I recognize only those who serve me as relations. My fortune is not attached to the name of Bonaparte, but to that of Napoleon…those who do not rise with me shall no longer form part of my family.” Ruling over an enormous band of jumped-up Corsicans was like herding cats, and even General Bonaparte himself could barely manage the task. The easiest cat in the bag was Napoleon’s older brother, Joseph,

What if it succeeds?

Aloha from Hawaii! Your host is celebrating a lot of things right now: Bastille Day, the ability to travel responsibly, the birthday of a certain overworked and abused producer-intern, and oh yeah, the fifth anniversary of The Land of Desire!!! I’m celebrating by answering some excellent questions from you, dear listeners. Merci beaucoup.
Episode 70: “Fifth Anniversary! Listener Q&A”






 
Transcript
Bienvenue and welcome back to the Land of Desire. I’m your host, Diana, and this month, The Land of Desire turns five! I can’t believe it! I wanted to celebrate by reaching out to all of you to answer your questions and say thank you! Thank you so much to everyone who wrote in over the past few weeks, whether you had a question, an episode suggestion, or just said hello. I won’t be able to answer every question I received, but here are a few of my favorites!
 
I’ll start with this question from Matt, which is by far the most popular question I received: What topics do you have coming up? How do you decide what to discuss?
 
When I first started The Land of Desire, I planned out all these epic miniseries. In a testament to my ability to scope projects appropriately, I originally intended to launch this show with a ten – yes, that’s right, ten – part series about the history of the Louvre. Needless to say, don’t expect that series any time soon. The problem with a big miniseries is that it’s easier to burn out – or worse, realize that your audience doesn’t actually care about this subject when you still have four more episodes to go! So I try to force myself to scale back and do more one-off episodes because they’re simply more sustainable. I mean, look at “Women at War” – that miniseries began in September 2019, and by the time it finished, I’d changed jobs, nursed my sister back from a car accident, begun sheltering in place and witnessed at least two waves of a global pandemic. These days, if I get any bright ideas like “Time for a deep dive of the entire Hundred Years War!” I shake my head, take a deep breath, and say, “No, let’s talk about the potato.”
 
Often when I’m beginning the process of brainstorming a new subject, I’ll take a look at my own personal life for inspiration. What am I reading lately? How have I been spending my time? What’s already got my attention these days? It’s a much better jumping off point for me than forcing myself to go back to a subject I selected for myself months ago. Take last month’s episode, for example – by the time this episode goes up, my boyfriend and I will be taking a very exciting vacation to Hawaii. Obviously in June I wanted an excuse to daydream about tropical islands some more, which led me down the path of studying the cultivation of vanilla. Since I’m in vacation mode, I’m trying my best not to think about next month’s episode topic. Empty head, no thoughts. It’ll be as much a surprise to you as it will to me. 
 
Rhian then asks, : how long does the research process usually take? 
 
For a single standalone episode, it’s about two to three weeks of research, while a miniseries of course can be much more research spread out over the course of months. My production schedule is always the same: aim to be done with research by Sunday night, aim to finish the script by Monday night, aim to finish recording and editing the vocals by Tuesday night, then on Wednesday mix in music, write the blog post and draft the social media updates. God knows it almost never works out that way. My research always starts in the same place: my enemy and my friend, JSTOR. The absolutely amazing San Francisco Public Library system offers me free access, and I take full advantage of it. I read 8 billion papers about a particular topic until I’m able to figure out wh...

“Here Albius fertilized vanilla.” – Tribute to Edmond Albius, Saint Suzanne, Réunion.

We’re back! After a big move, which required the dismantling and relocation of the trusty recording studio (a.k.a. Diana’s closet), I’m excited to record in my new space! 
Next month is the show’s sixth anniversary – I know, right?!! – and I’m asking YOU to submit questions for a special listener Q&A episode. You can contact me right here. Otherwise, send me a question on Facebook, Instagram or Twitter! 
After my last episode about potatoes, I figured I’d follow up with a little dessert. Today, let’s learn about one of the most valuable and mysterious plants on earth, the dizzying journey it made from its native homeland to its most famous outpost, and the unlikely character who unlocked its secrets. This plant’s intoxicating flavor is so widely enjoyed, and so universally incorporated into dishes around the world, that its name has become a byword for the everyday and boring. This is extremely unfair, since we’re talking about one of the world’s most labor-intensive and delicate plants, the only edible orchid on earth. That’s right: this week, we’ll learn about the sultry secrets of vanilla.
Episode 69: “The Boy Who Solved Vanilla”






 
 
Edmond Albius, the boy who unlocked vanilla
 

Watch “Edmond’s gesture” in action in this video of vanilla hand-pollination, still used for the production of essentially all commercial vanilla in the world.

See the humble melipona bee, which naturally fertilizes vanilla plants in Mexico.
Transcript
Bienvenue and welcome back to the Land of Desire. I’m your host, Diana, and this is the show’s first episode ever recorded outside of a closet! Just in time for the podcast’s fifth anniversary next month, I’m finally settled into my new apartment, and I’m working out the kinks of recording in a new space. I’ll be ordering some more recording equipment to really set up the space, so I beg your patience if this month’s sound quality is below average. It sounded nicer when I was essentially recording an episode underneath a pile of coats, but it’s a little easier on your host to sit in a chair, you know?
 
Before I jump into today’s episode, a quick announcement: next month is the fifth anniversary of this podcast! I know, right? I’m going to celebrate with a big of a mixup – it’s been a few years since I did a Q and A episode, and there are a LOT more listeners nowadays. Between now and the end of the month, please send me your questions – these can be questions about subjects discussed in previous episodes, questions about the podcast’s production, or even just questions about me. You can send me questions through Facebook or Instagram or Twitter, or use the contact form on the show’s website, thelandofdesire.com. I look forward to answering my favorites in next month’s episode! Okay. On with the show.

 
Perhaps I love a theme, perhaps I’m just hungry, but this month I’m continuing the theme of curious French food history, but we’re moving as far away from the damp, gloomy soil of l’Hexagone and traveling all the way to the balmy shores of the Indian Ocean. We’ll learn about one of the most valuable and mysterious plants on earth, the dizzying journey it made from its native homeland to its most famous outpost, and the unlikely character who unlocked its secrets. This plant’s intoxicating flavor is so widely enjoyed, and so universally incorporated into dishes around the world,

“The vegetable of the shack and the château.” – Le marquis de Cussy

April showers bring May flowers – unless they bring floods, famine, and fear. This month, I’m looking at the moment in French history when farmers turned their nose up at the foods of the New World – until they realized what the potato had to offer. Antoine Parmentier, one of the great hype men of food history, features in this month’s episode all about the tastiest of tubers!
Episode 68: “Antoine Parmentier & The History of the Potato”






 
 
Antoine Parmentier, “the apostle of the potato”

 

Transcript
“Le légume de la cabane et du château.” – Le marquis de Cussy
 
Bienvenue and welcome back to The Land of Desire! I’m your host, Diana, and most of this script was written over the course of a gloomy, rainy weekend here in San Francisco. As always, the arrival of rain in the Bay Area has only one appropriate response: “Ah, but we need the rain” – and it’s true, California is always in a fluctuating state of drought, and this year is particularly bad. I say this to explain that I have climate shifts on the brain right now, and my recent reading all focuses on the relationships between humans, cities, and weather. This month, as we wait to see whether April showers really do turn into May flowers, I’d like to do a prequel episode, if you will. If you’ve been a listener from the start – or if you’ve taken a dig through the archives – you’ll remember that the debut episode of this podcast centers around the volcanic explosion which kicked off a series of bread riots in France, acting as kindling for the French Revolution. Today, let’s ask this question: why didn’t that volcano trigger riots in Britain, or other countries in Europe? Or to put it another way, we associate the French Revolution with an uprising of millions of French peasants. It was the 1780s, why on earth did France still have so many peasants? Today, we’re taking a closer look at a dreadful century when France was – horror of horrors – out of date, behind the times, and out of fashion. As the rest of the West underwent an agricultural revolution, the French kept her ancient farming practices – no matter what the cost. One of the greatest revolutions in French history didn’t take place in Paris, or even Versailles, but out in the sticks, where wheat – the so-called staff of life – gave way to new crops, and a whole new way of life. In this episode, let us appreciate one of the great changemakers of French history: the potato.
 

Subsistence farming/the old ways

“And six years thou shalt sow thy land, and shalt gather in the fruits thereof: but the seventh year thou shalt let it rest and lie still; that the poor of thy people may eat: and what they leave the beasts of the field shall eat.” This passage from the book of Exodus perfectly captures the shmita, or the Sabbath year of the ancient world, in which farmers would spend an entire year letting their fields sit, fallow, as the soil rested and recovered. Though they wouldn’t have known why at the time, the chemistry checks out. Cereal grains, like wheat and rye, are “scavenger” plants – their roots dig down, down, down into the soil, gobbling up nutrients and incorporating them into the the stems and leaves, thus producing a nutritious crop with enough vitamins and minerals to sustain, oh, the human race. But scavenging the soil comes at a cost: planting cereal grains like wheat and barley in the same dirt year after year eventually leeches those nutrients, especially nitrogen, out of the soil. Things stop growing. Giving the farm a break – a sabbatical, if you will, eh eh – let those biblical farms recover and kept ...

“Proust n’a aime que deux personnes, sa mere et Celeste.” – Prince Antoine Bibesco

What better way to “celebrate” a year of sheltering in place than a closer look at France’s most famous social distancer? This week, I’m looking at the curious relationship between the eccentric, reclusive writer, Marcel Proust, and his beloved housekeeper-confidant, Céleste Albaret. Together, the two hunkered down into a mostly nocturnal life of writing, collaborating, and remembering while the world outside became incomprehensible. It’s the ultimate experiment in working from home – if your Uber Eats came from the Hotel Ritz, that is! Here’s the conclusion of our two part history of Marcel & Céleste. (Listen to part one here: 66. Marcel & Celeste, Part I.)
Episode 67: “Marcel & Celeste, Part II”






Transcript
In 1916, Marcel received a surprising letter: a sixteen year old soldier who had snuck his way to the front line wrote him from the trenches to admire his work. Entering into a discussion of friendship, Proust confessed, “I am myself only when alone, and I profit from others only to the extent that they enable me to make discoveries within myself, either by making me suffer…or by their absurdities, which..help me to understand human character.” While Proust continued making sorties outside his apartment, it’s unclear whether they were out of genuine loneliness or a colder, more ambitious sort of reconnaissance. In his all-encompassing dedication to In Search of Lost Time, Marcel’s own life seemed less and less important – in many ways, it seemed, his life was already over. His real life – that of dazzling society soirees and elegant salons, was an anachronism, murdered by the war. He now existed for reconnaissance work: categorizing the beauty and elegance he had known, trying to capture its essence in full. One night, he knocked on the door of a quartet leader, asking to hear a particular work of music as soon as possible. The two of them shared a cab around Paris, picking up the other musicians, and ferrying them back to 102 boulevard Haussman at one in the morning. Another time, he interviewed his housekeeper Celeste’s young niece to accurately capture the writing of a high school girl. He spent his money recklessly – what use was money if not in service of his work, and what use was money if he was going to die young? Of this he was convinced, the only question was whether he would finish his great work first. “I am a very old man, Celeste,” he once told his beloved housekeeper and friend. “I shan’t live long…and that is why I am so anxious to finish.”
 
In 1917, as World War One ground up a generation of Europeans, Marcel Proust began attending regular dinners at the Hotel Ritz. There, he dined with other refugees of the old world: princesses on the run from empires which no longer existed, sophisticated artists and intellectuals, aging dandies and more. Relying on his personal charm and the gossip of the Ritz staff, Proust learned everything he’d ever wanted to know about the ruling classes of the aristocracy. Spending the dwindling reserves of his fortune on lobster and champagne while the war approached its climax, Proust was an eyewitness to the changing of the guard. On July 27th, 1917, attending a dinner party in the Ritz hotel room of a Greek princess, Proust heard the air raid siren go off. Standing on the balcony, Proust replayed that fateful night from three years earlier, “watching this wonderful Apocalypse in which the airplanes climbing and swooping seemed to complement and eclipse the constellations.” A few months later, Proust stepped out onto the sidewalk and encountered two soldiers: Americans.

“Proust n’a aime que deux personnes, sa mere et Celeste.” – Prince Antoine Bibesco

What better way to “celebrate” a year of sheltering in place than a closer look at France’s most famous social distancer? This week, I’m looking at the curious relationship between the eccentric, reclusive writer, Marcel Proust, and his beloved housekeeper-confidant, Céleste Albaret. Together, the two hunkered down into a mostly nocturnal life of writing, collaborating, and remembering while the world outside became incomprehensible. It’s the ultimate experiment in working from home – if your Uber Eats came from the Hotel Ritz, that is!
Episode 66: “Marcel & Celeste, Part I”






Transcript
Bienvenue and welcome back to the Land of Desire! I’m your host, Diana, and before I get started, I’d like to give a big welcome to new listeners! For those who don’t already know, this week I was able to live out one of my childhood dreams. Growing up, my favorite section of the newspaper was always the advice columns. What can I say -I love telling people what to do! My friend, Danny Lavery, is better known as Dear Prudence over on Slate, and this week they invited me to be their guest host! For my longtime listeners, if you’ve ever thought, “Hmm, I really love Diana’s weird anecdotes about French history, could she tell me how to raise my children?” then it’s a banner day for you. You can listen to the episode at slate.com/podcasts/dear-prudence, and I’ll put the link in this episode’s show notes. Meanwhile, if you’re a Dear Prudence listener tuning in for the first time, thank you and welcome! With that happy announcement out of the way, let’s turn to today’s episode. 
 
Listeners, we have come to the end of a very, very long year. I’m cranky, I’m bored, I’m really really really good at baking now and I miss my friends terribly. One of the only ways I’ve gotten through 2020 with my sanity arguably intact is by experiencing it side-by-side with my loving boyfriend, Daniel, or as he prefers to be known, the much-abused unpaid intern and occasional producer of this show. He has been the bright spot of my year, and I wanted to pay him back by giving him a little Christmas gift: an episode all about his favorite person in the world, and perhaps the person best suited to comment on this strange period of history, the great French writer, Marcel Proust. 2020 was a year of seclusion and confinement, and it was also a year of transition. We speak of the Before Times, and a world, a whole way of life, which feels like it’s slipping out of our reach. At the same time, we hunker down, sheltering ourselves against an invisible enemy, staying within the safe confines of home and wiping down the groceries. Who could better understand the story of this year than a man conceived during a siege, who spent the last third of his life as a recluse, terrified of infection, dreaming of a lost world and mourning the impossibility of return? But there is one aspect of Marcel Proust’s life which feels especially relevant to us today, a part of his story which is often skipped over. While Proust famously loved and adored his sainted mother, his later years are inextricably linked to Proust’s father: the world-famous epidemiologist, Adrien Proust, pioneer of the modern cordon sanitaire. Today, we will navigate between the inner world and the outer, between safety and exposure, between past and present, between reality and memory, between sickness and health, between the glittering world of fin-de-siècle Paris and the dark chamber in which our story is set. The chamber in question was a refuge, it was a nest, and in many ways, it was a cage. This is the story of Proust’s bedroom.
 

I. Open with impending siege (so he thinks) of Paris in September 1914,

“The waters of Vichy…gave me back my strength.” – Madame de Sévigné

The darkest days of winter are here, and I think it’s time we all indulged in a little self-care, non? My own quarantine hobby, skincare, set me down a particular path. Why was I spraying my face with thermal spa water from France? What is thermal spa water? Why do we drink thermal spa water? Does any of it really do anything? France loves her thermal spas, no matter what form they take: rustic watering hole, glamorous resort, or rigorous medical establishment. 
Episode 65: “A Trip to the Spa”






The history of French thermal spas:

 

 

Transcript
Bienvenue and welcome back to The Land of Desire! I’m your host, Diana, and here’s a little quiz to see whether any of you have spent the last oh-my-god year of the pandemic with the same hobby I have. Can you guess what this list has in common? Vichy. La Roche-Posay. Uriage. Avène. Caudalie. I can already feel a lot of you nodding along because you’ve already guessed the answer. Yeah, I wear sweatpants all day every day and I haven’t worn makeup since March 2020, but my skin? My skincare is glaaaaamorous, darlings, I am absolutely babying it. I just listed off a bunch of the most well-respected – and widely distributed – skincare brands in France. But that’s not all. If you’re very clever, you may also notice that all of the names I listed have something else in common. Every single one of those brands traces its origins back to a natural water source – whether it’s a world-famous spa town frequented by royalty, or a very picturesque babbling brook on some mythical farmland. All of these brands boast about their very special eau thermales, all of which are supposed to have very special and distinct healing properties. A few nights ago, while I was halfway through my night routine, I found myself wondering about those spa towns. The French really go crazy for hot springs – I personally associate hot springs with, like, a bunch of outdoor hot tubs, maybe a weekend getaway with the girls. For thousands of years, natural springs have provided the French with relief from major and minor physical ailments, tons of society gossip, a respite from the bustle of city life, and maybe, just maybe, a miracle or two. So this week, maybe it’s time to fill up the tub and enjoy this episode during a nice, warm soak in some hot water, because we’re taking a trip through the history of the spa.
 
Take a stroll down the Boulevard Saint-Germain today, and you’ll pass any number of high-end pharmacies and drugstores, advertising a dazzling assortment of creams, lotions and potions to cure what ails you, whether it’s eczema, acne, indigestion, athlete’s foot or simply the inexorable march of time. Starting at Les Deux Magots, you could walk past the Pharmacie de Saint-Germain de Pres, the Pharmacie Beauté, Pharmacie Saint-Sulpice, and the Pharmacie Odeon within the space of a few blocks. But continue on a few more feet and you’ll encounter a different sort of dispensary altogether: the most ancient source of medicine in the city of Paris. Here on the corner of the Boulevard Saint-Germain and the Boulevard Saint-Michel is the famous Musée de Cluny, home of the city’s most ancient Roman baths. 
 
Built approximately 2200 years ago, the baths were enormous in their day, stretching over 6,000 square meters of valuable real estate. Back then, the ancient Roman outpost called Lutetia required constant guarding, and this part of town held a host of administrative buildings – and military outposts. In Ancient Rome, wherever troops traveled, public baths followed, for rather obvious reasons. While rich Romans might build private baths in their homes, the general public was welcome and encouraged to take pa...

“I think my hand will tremble,“ – Louis Pasteur

Happy New Year! The Land of Desire is BACK with an exciting – and hopeful – story to set us off on the right track in 2021. Your happy host gets to indulge her love of epidemiology a little bit without leaving you depressed in the middle of a pandemic (she swears). This week, we’re taking a look at one of the greatest French inventions of all time. Along the way, we’ll encounter Catholic masses for dogs, the worst cruise you’ve ever heard of, and a man who came a bit too close to becoming a true mad scientist, Louis Pasteur. We’re at a turning point in medical science, so what better time to look back at how far we’ve come? This week, join me for a closer look at the history of the vaccine.
Episode 64: “Louis Pasteur and the History of the Vaccine”






Transcript
Bienvenue and welcome back to The Land of Desire! I’m your host Diana, and I’d like to start by wishing all of you a very, very happy New Year! I know it’s been a tough winter, but there are better days ahead of us. As many of you know, I’ve always been a huge epidemiology nerd, and I’ve struggled to restrain myself in the past because I know that most of my audience really doesn’t want to hear about diseases even when we aren’t going through a major pandemic. Fair enough. So I’m excited for an excuse to turn back to my favorite subject, but I promise, in a happy, optimistic way. If 2020 was the story of a disease, 2021 is looking like the story of its cure. This week, we’re taking a look at one of the greatest French inventions of all time. Along the way, we’ll encounter Catholic masses for dogs, the worst cruise you’ve ever heard of, and a man who came a bit too close to becoming a true mad scientist, Louis Pasteur. We’re at a turning point in medical science, so what better time to look back at how far we’ve come? This week, join me for a closer look at the history of the vaccine.
 

On July 4, 1885, a nine year old boy named Joseph Meister was attacked by a dog near his home in the city of Alsace. As he cowered and shielded his face with his tiny hands, the dog lunged at him again and again, biting him. A nearby bricklayer heard the screams and managed to beat the dog back with a pair of crowbars, but not until Joseph sustained fourteen bites on his thighs, legs and his hand. Joseph’s mother rushed him to the local doctor, who applied carbolic acid to the wounds, but the two adults looked at one another with a terrible fear. Joseph was at risk for one of humanity’s deadliest diseases, a disease scary enough to inspire not one but two terrifying mythical monsters, a disease with a nearly 100% fatality rate, a disease which guaranteed the worst of all 19th century fates: an ugly death. Joseph was at risk for rabies. Joseph’s mother, beside herself with worry, asked the doctor what else could be done. The doctor must have known Joseph was in dire straits, because he made a radical suggestion: take the boy to Paris, he said. There’s a scientist there, a famous scientist, who thinks he may have a solution. Joseph, still in unbearable pain, accompanied his mother to the train station at once, and within 48 hours of the attack, they found themselves in one of the strangest buildings they’d ever stepped inside: this was the laboratory of the great Louis Pasteur, and it was filled with rabid dogs.

In the long, strange cultural history of humans and diseases, rabies has always held a unique space in our minds – more specifically, in our amygdala, which controls fear. We’ve had rabies for just about as long as we’ve had domesticated dogs, and just about every ancient set of laws we can find has some sort of rule about how to handle wild dogs, rabid dogs, dogs who bite, and people who are bitten by dogs. The first known victim of rabies appears in a cuneifo...

Just in time for spooky season - ooh, lady pirates. Learn the tale of Jeanne de Clisson and the Black Fleet: piracy, treachery...and blood-soaked revenge!

The story of Surya Bonaly, France's innovative, infamous anti-ice princess. Was she a victim of racism, a squandered talent, or simply ahead of her time? And will anyone ever dare to attempt her signature move?

“My biggest fear is that we’ll be too successful.” – Robert Fitzpatrick, Euro Disney chairman

It’s that time of year – les vacances! Oh, wait, you’re stuck at home? No big international trips? Global pandemic got you grounded? Yeah, me too. My favorite summer destination, Disneyland, is closed for COVID, and it’ll be a long time until it reopens. When it does, it won’t be the same. It’ll be an uncanny valley effect, where everything seems like the Disneyland you know and love, but when you look at it long enough, it’s not quite right. It will be a little off-center. It will be a little sad. And it’ll be empty, way too empty for Disneyland.
In other words, it’ll be just like…Euro Disney.
Episode 61: “Euro Disney”






Transcript
Bienvenue and welcome back to The Land of Desire! I’m your host, Diana, and it’s August, aka les vacances, that five week period when seemingly all of France closes up shop, heads out of town, and goes on holiday. Oh, wait. What’s that? A global pandemic’s got you grounded. Yeah, me too. Gotta say, after almost six months in my tiny studio apartment, quarantine life is really getting to me these days, especially because I know exactly where I’d rather be right now. Usually at this time of year, my partner and I visit Disneyland for a long weekend. It’s one of my happy places, combining all my favorite things: zippy rollercoasters, childhood nostalgia, phenomenal amounts of sugar, and for those who know, tiki drinks. These days, of course, it’s a different story. Not even Mickey is enjoying a summer at Disneyland in this cursed summer. Disneyland has closed only 3 times in its history: the assassination of JFK, the Northridge Earthquake, and September 11th. Who knows when the park will reopen? When it does, it won’t be the same. It’ll be an uncanny valley effect, where everything seems like the Disneyland you know and love, but when you look at it long enough, it’s not quite right. It will be a little off-center. It will be a little sad. And it’ll be empty, way too empty for Disneyland. In other words, it’ll be just like…Euro Disney.
 
Oh, Euro Disney. One of the worst mistakes in Disney history, the blunder that kept on blundering. Now known as Disneyland Paris, this wild misadventure is literally a case study in business schools around the world. It’s a perfect lesson in hubris, the sunk cost fallacy and the importance of localization. This month, let’s learn about the history that Disney would rather have you forget. We’ve got angry farmers protesting on tractors, a beet root field gone bad, surprise ketchup attacks, a bombing that everybody forgot, and the disastrous results of hiring French waiters to deliver American-style customer service. Time to grab a ticket – and don’t worry, there are a lot of them left – and take a ride to the Not-So-Happiest Place On Earth. Welcome to Euro Disney.
 

 
As the year 1991 drew to a close, the Mouse was King. Hard as it is for Millennials like myself to believe, Disney spent most of the 70s in the cultural doldrums. By 1984, finance groups were trying to take the company over, and movie studios could say, with a straight face, things like “Disney has been on the fringes lately.” But a bright new CEO, Michael Eisner, was determined to turn the ship around. Step one? Get more money out of the assets we have. All those beloved Disney movies of the past would be freed from the company vault and released on VHS – and if you’re between the ages of about 25 and 35, I know you can feel that plastic clamshell case in your mind right now, so, good move there, dude. Step two? Make more classics. In 1989, Disney released The Little Mermaid, its first massive box office hit in ages. By the end of 1991, Beauty and the Beast was hitting the theaters,

“A party without a cake is just a meeting.” – Julia Child

It’s our birthday!! Today, The Land of Desire kicks off its fifth year and what better way to celebrate than with a little cake? This week, I’m focusing on the history of one of my favorite French treats: the humble, beloved madeleine! “One could almost call the madeleine France’s national cookie” wrote Patricia Wells in the New York Times back in 1983. She didn’t know about the endless macaron obsession that was still to come, but I think she has a point. This week, pull up a chair, pour a cup of tea, and definitely make sure to sign up for the newsletter (hint: I’m sharing my favorite recipe!!!) while we celebrate the life and times of the French madeleine.
Episode 60: “Madeleines”






Madeleine miscellany:

Transcript
Bienvenue, and welcome back to The Land of Desire! I’m your host Diana, and today it’s time for a celebration – a birthday celebration, that is! The Land of Desire is officially four years old. Can you believe it? I figured we’d kick off our fifth year with a birthday party. Then I realized the party needed one crucial ingredient: cake! After all, as Julia Child once said, “a party without cake is just a meeting.” But we aren’t just going to talk about any old cake. We’re going to talk about my favorite, easy, irresistible and oh-so-French kind of cake: a perfect little seashell that sits on your saucer, begging to be dunked into tea or cafe au lait. That’s right, you guessed it – today we’re talking about the madeleine! One of the all-time classics, madeleines are nevertheless overshadowed, sometimes, by those jewel box macarons in a million colors, or the towering piles of choux pastry and chestnut cream inside a religieuse, and delicately stacked opera cakes. The charming little scalloped sponges are humble and unassuming, and that’s what makes them wonderful. These are not special occasion cakes. They’re the everyday occasion cakes, the Tuesday afternoon treat, the reminder that every day is worth a bit of celebration. Madeleines are the treat of childhood, the simple pleasure of a life well lived. While Christmas might call for a buche de noel and Epiphany demands a galette du roi, the madeleine is the star of one very beloved ritual in particular, one that most foreigners haven’t even heard of: le goûter.
 

 
If you’d like to feel your soul exit your body, ask a French woman for her favorite snack. “The French” she will hiss at you in a low tone, eyebrows lowered in disappointment, “do not snack.” Snacking? That is an American thing. It’s sloppy. It’s gauche. Snacking is for undisciplined people, grazing like cattle who wander across the field. The French would never! This solemn truth gets trotted out in every Francophile book published in England or America, next to its cousins: “French people take their time eating meals” and, of course, “French women don’t get fat.” This unholy trinity of French dining aphorisms endures decade after decade, accepted as gospel by foreigners and French people alike. But of course, like every other stereotype about the French and their eating habits, you have to kick at it a little before the truth starts to emerge.
 
Here is an accurate statement: French people do indeed eat food on a remarkably synchronized schedule. Compared to the United States, where breakfast takes place any time between 5 AM and 3 PM, sliding so carelessly into the next eating window that we call it “brunch”, French dining habits are very strict, very predictable and very, very universal. At 8 AM, breakfast – nothing fancy or too heavy,

“To those who served to save a little of the beauty of this world.” – epigraph, memoirs of Rose Valland

 
Surprise! I know I said I was done with Women At War, but then I immediately sat up in bed one night and smacked myself in the forehead. This series is the perfect opportunity to tell the story of my favorite unlikely heroine of all time: Rose Valland. 
What better way to wrap up the fourth year of this podcast than an adventure story? Intrigue, stolen masterpieces, underground Rèsistance, and a happy ending! Please enjoy this little bonus episode, delivered just in time. 🙂
Episode 59: “Women At War BONUS: The Witness (Rose Valland)”






Transcript
Bienvenue and welcome back to The Land of Desire. I’m your host, Diana, and I have to confess something: I lied! I said that last month’s episodes were the conclusion of my series on Women at War, but I realized that I’d missed the perfect opportunity to tell one of my all-time favorite stories. This story has everything: espionage, famous art, dastardly villains, an unlikely heroine and a happy ending. So consider this a bonus episode, an extra present from me to you, just in time for the show’s 4th birthday today! Before we kick off another year, let’s put a bow on this one by paying tribute to one of my favorite French women of all time: Rose Valland.

On May 8th, 1945, Europe embarked on one of the most ambitious projects in human history: cleaning up the wreckage of World War II. The continent was in shambles: bombed out, burned down, busted. No matter where you stood, from the United Kingdom to the Ukraine, everything was chaos, and the task of putting all the pieces back together again seemed impossible. There was so much to do: cleaning up rubble, distributing food, capturing Nazis on the run – but there was one task that was more urgent, and more overwhelming, than all of these: getting everyone back home. The most universal experience of World War II wasn’t physical violence, or even hunger: it was displacement. 60 million people were displaced over the course the war, whether they were evicted from their homeland, deported to a concentration camp, deployed to the front lines, or forced to flee an invasion. By the time the ink dried on Germany’s surrender, 11 million Europeans were located outside their home country. Many of them would never return.
 
But it wasn’t just people who had been displaced during the war. For the past six years, the Third Reich had looted its way through Europe. Everything disappeared into the Reich’s gaping maw: jewelry, luxury cars, gold bouillon, designer clothes, family heirlooms, and above all else, priceless works of art. Led by the world’s most famous art school reject, Nazi leaders treated the museums and galleries of Europe like a giant buffet, helping themselves to grand masters and lining their own hallways with ancient sculptures. In the best case scenario, a world treasure sat hidden in a German study or bank vault. In the worst case scenario, it got melted for scrap. From the empty rooms of the Louvre to the piles of charred canvases in Berlin to the stripped walls of Saint Petersburg, every curator and collector in Europe asked the same, staggering question: where did all of the art go? And would it ever come home again? In France, one person held the key to solving this mystery – but after six years in the shadows, who could they trust with their secrets?

Rose Valland wasn’t the kind of woman who attracted the world’s attention. Born in a teensy, tiny town southeast of Lyon, Rose was the daughter of a blacksmith. With no money to her name, Rose pursued one of the only career paths available to women intellectuals: teaching. When she won a spot at the fine arts academy in Lyon, it was a tremendous accomplishment for a woman of her socio...

When we came back, nobody wanted to know. ― Loulou Le Porz, Ravensbruck survivor

 
It’s the two-part conclusion of the miniseries: Women In War. This episode was a long time coming. I struggled to read the stories of Ravensbruck concentration camp. How can I pay tribute to these brave women? But I knew the story of French women during World War II would be incomplete without confronting the truth of the camp. 
Note: This episode is much darker than any previous episodes of this podcast. Please consider this a content warning for, well, just about everything. If you just discovered the show via the newest issue of France-Amérique Magazine, welcome! You might want to start with a lighter episode, like this one or this one.
Episode 58: “Women At War 5: The Survivor II (Marie-José Wilborts)”






Marie-Jo, the children’s guardian
Marie-José Chombart de Lauwe, a.k.a. Marie-José Wilborts, grew up determined to “do something with my life.” She certainly did: fighting in the Résistance, protecting the children of Ravensbruck concentration camp, and devoting her entire life to the study of childhood, and the advocation of children’s rights. She is an incredible woman, and at the age of 96 she is still going strong! 

Above: Marie-Jo tells the story of her years in Ravensbruck and Mauthausen concentration camps.
 
I adore this recent interview with Marie-Jo – look at her cozy home! Here, continuing her lifelong advocacy of children’s well-being, she discusses the state of children’s education today:

Transcript
In March 1944, 4,052 new prisoners arrived at Ravensbruck. The camp was at four times its intended capacity, and chaos reigned. There weren’t enough guards, and it was easier than ever to evade them by disappearing into the crowds. The German guards cared less and less about camp discipline, distracted by concern for the safety of their own homes and families. That summer, new German prisoners arrived, punished for expressing doubts about Germany victory, or performing sex work to feed their families when German shops ran out of food. By the summer of 1944, Ravensbruck was a microcosm of the Third Reich’s terrible path of destruction, containing prisoners from no fewer than 22 countries. In August 1944, the Western and Eastern front collided in the camp, and all hell broke loose.
 
It was the story of two rebellions. Following the Allied landing at Normandy, Hitler had to cut out the middleman. No more farming out Resistance fighters to French prisons, run by the French administration. With the Allies only days away, French civilians joined the Resistance by the thousands, and Occupation leaders began looking for the exits. Hitler ordered all political prisoners sent straight to German factories for forced labor. While American tanks rolled towards Paris, German cattle cars rolled towards camps like Ravensbruck. As Paris steeled herself for the final fight and Germans weighed whether or not to raze the city, electricity flickered off and bombs blasted the train stations. But even this wasn’t enough to stop the trains from making their deadly route. In one of the last convoys from Paris, 500 women arrived at Ravensbruck on August 21st. Only a few days later, the Allies liberated Paris.
 
Other rebels weren’t so lucky. Just as the French resistance counted on the Allied army for support, the Polish resistance knew the Red Army was on its way and seized their chance. Like the French, Polish men and women emerged into the open to face their occupiers head on. Unlike the French, they were crushed.

When we came back, nobody wanted to know. ― Loulou Le Porz, Ravensbruck survivor

 
It’s the two-part conclusion of the miniseries: Women In War. This episode was a long time coming. I struggled to read the stories of Ravensbruck concentration camp. How can I pay tribute to these brave women? But I knew the story of French women during World War II would be incomplete without confronting the truth of the camp. 
Note: This episode is much darker than any previous episodes of this podcast. Please consider this a content warning for, well, just about everything. If you just discovered the show via the newest issue of France-Amérique Magazine, welcome! You might want to start with a lighter episode, like this one or this one.
Episode 57: “Women At War 5: The Survivor I (Marie-José Wilborts)”






Marie-Jo, the children’s guardian
Marie-José Chombart de Lauwe, a.k.a. Marie-José Wilborts, grew up determined to “do something with my life.” She certainly did: fighting in the Résistance, protecting the children of Ravensbruck concentration camp, and devoting her entire life to the study of childhood, and the advocation of children’s rights. She is an incredible woman, and at the age of 96 she is still going strong! 
 

Above: Marie-Jo tells the story of her years in Ravensbruck and Mauthausen concentration camps.
 
I adore this recent interview with Marie-Jo – look at her cozy home! Here, continuing her lifelong advocacy of children’s well-being, she discusses the state of children’s education today:

Transcript
Bienvenue and welcome back to the Land of Desire. I’m your host, Diana, and if you’re just discovering the show from this month’s France-Amerique Magazine, welcome! I wouldn’t start with these episodes, as they’re the end of a miniseries, and pretty different in tone from the rest of the podcast. Instead, consider episode 22, “The Sweet Life of French Bees” or episode 6, “Manet & Morisot & Manet”. I hope you enjoy!
 
At long last, we’ve reached the end of Women at War, my look at French women’s experiences during World War II. It took months before I could release these episodes, for one simple reason: it was too painful to research. I couldn’t possibly tell the story of French women during World War II without covering the story of Ravensbruck, but I want to warn my listeners now: this is a gruesome episode. I am not interested in sugar coating the experiences of concentration camp victims. If they can bring themselves to tell their stories, I can bring myself to listen and share with you. However, I want my listeners to know that this story is very upsetting, and just about every trigger you can imagine is here. It is not appropriate for children. With that said, learning about Ravensbruck deepened my understanding of the female experience of World War II, and of concentration camps in general. I am particularly grateful to the writers Anne Sebba, author of Les Parisiennes, and Sarah Helm, author of Ravensbruck, for their dedication to tracking down Ravensbruck survivors in the 21st century. It is a testament to how deeply women’s roles in the Resistance have been overlooked that so many participants have never had a chance to tell their stories before now. I would encourage anyone interested in learning more about womens’ lives during World War II to begin with those two books. With that disclaimer, here’s part one of the conclusion of Women At War: “The Survivor.”
 
In the northeastern corner of Germany sits an expanse so beautiful it is often called “the land of a thousand lakes.

 




We are going underground.
― Jacqueline Marié

It’s the continuation of my new miniseries on a subject extremely near and dear to my heart: Women In War! For the next few weeks I’ll be focusing on the experiences of women in France during World War II: fighting the resistance, collaborating with the Nazis, keeping children alive against the odds, and trying to figure out the right way to live in a world that seemed upside down. The idea of this series first took shape before I even began this podcast, and I’m thrilled to bring it to you now.
While our last episode focused on Coco Chanel and other French men and women who eagerly collaborated with the Germans, a number of brave men – and, particularly women – risked their lives to fight back. This week, we’ll focus on the women of the French Resistance.
Episode 56: “Women At War 4: The Résistante (Jacqueline Marié)”






Jacqueline Marié: Heroine of the French Resistance
Jacqueline is incredible – and I don’t mean to spoil the ending of the miniseries with that verb tense, but YES, that’s RIGHT, she is STILL ALIVE and kicking butt and writing her memoirs. If you speak French, here are some incredibly precious videos of Jacqueline telling her own story.

Transcript
Bienvenue and welcome back to The Land of Desire. I’m your host, Diana, and this week I’m continuing my series about life during the German Occupation: Women At War. Each episode, I’m examining one specific woman’s life during this extraordinary time. The series is roughly chronological, so I’d recommend listening to the series in order, as it traces the way that women’s circumstances changed over the course of the war. In episode one, we began with Elisabeth Kauffman, a 16 year old Jewish refugee from Austria, as she watched Paris fall to the German army before she hit the road in the epic French Exodus. In episode two, we met with Berthe Auroy, a retired schoolteacher struggling to make her way back from the Exodus to her home in Paris, and then building a new life under the eyes of an occupying army, as food grew scarce, homes grew cold, and the population got restless. In episode three, we took a look at France’s dirty little secret, the collabos who benefited from the Occupation and wholeheartedly supported the Nazi regime. Specifically, we focused on the fashion designer Coco Chanel, whose right-wing conservativism and rabid anti-Semitism encouraged her to spy for the Gestapo. However, not every French woman took a position of “wait-and-see” or outright collaboration. There were a few women – much fewer than the French would perhaps like to admit – but there were a few women of tremendous bravery who viewed the German Occupation as a call-to-arms. These women risked their freedom, their families, and their lives in order to fight the Nazis, and after the war they were almost entirely forgotten or scrubbed out of the history books by their own leaders. One such woman was Jacqueline Marié, another 16 year old girl on the front lines, who risked everything to free her country from German occupation. Hers is an epic war story: intrigue, espionage, sabotage, imprisonment, torture, liberation, abandonment, and eventually, over time, perhaps a sort of victory. Join me for today’s episode, The Résistante.

 
“We are going Underground.”
 
It was October 24th, 1940 when 16 year old Jacqueline Marié reached her breaking point. From the moment Germany declared war against France, Jacqueline and her family were ready to fight. Gathered around the radio, Jacqueline and the Marié family listened in disbelief as the President of France, Philippe Pétain,

Where other women saw an Occupation, one woman saw an opportunity. Coco Chanel: fashion icon, social queen...Nazi spy.

Part 2 of a series about French women's experiences during World War II. Berthe Auroy adjusts to a strange half-life under the German Occupation of Paris.

Part 1 of a series about French women's experiences during World War II. The Germans are coming! As France falls to the invading army in June 1940, 16 year old Elisabeth Kaufmann must decide whether to stay or go. How will she survive on the road?

Hot fun in the summertime! Island getaways, floating bars and the birth of Renoir's "Luncheon Of the Boating Party".