If you've been to a postcard stand in France, you've seen Belle Epoque iconography. The Can-Can, the Moulin Rouge, the turn of the century fashion with art and literature and Art Nouveau. Even the Marseillaise and the Eiffel Tower belong to the great "BE" (although to be fair the Marseillaise is from the 18th century, but it got re-adopted as the French national anthem in the 1870s).
But why is this turn-of-the-century period so representative of "French Culture"? Why not the French 1960s? Or the height of Louis XIV's reign? What makes the Belle Epoque so classic and iconic, not just in France but internationally?

That's what Dominique Kalifa's "The Belle Epoque" looks at--not the period itself but how its aftermath shaped its legend. The very term "belle epoque" (the beautiful era) connotes nostalgia and a better time. The good old days. And Kalifa, with his years of experience examining the Belle Epoque's cultural legacy, brings us the history behind the "belle epoque" marketing. Did it start in 1900? After World War I? Or did it solidify in the immediate vicinity of the Occupation? When did the French decide they needed something beautiful to call home? Turns out it really was during the Occupation. And it's not all as beautiful as it seems.

Once the book is done examining when the legend took shape, Kalifa spills out its contents so we can look at what we kept from the so-called Belle Epoque: the clothes, the glamor, the art & literature... The crime, too, not to mention that the "True Crime" culture we have today can be traced back to the sensationalist crime journalism and thriller novels of this golden era. But what about the less glossy aspects of the "Epoque"? We remember the Dreyfus affair, of course, but what did we leave behind? And when did we go looking for it?

If there's anyone you should trust when it comes to the study of the Belle Epoque, it's the late Dominique Kalifa. And he makes this subject look easy when, really, it's a study of something nearly impossible to grasp: the creation of history, and how that creation adapts to its audience. You'll inevitably learn a lot with this book, and you'll probably want to know more afterwards. Luckily, Kalifa has more books, including another translated by the wonderful Susan Emanuel who captures Kalifa's voice perfectly for the English language.

Recommended to history enthusiasts, Francophiles, and anyone who had one of those Sarah Bernhardt or Le Chat Noir posters on their wall in college. If you fit into all three categories, this is a must-read.

Thank you to Columbia University Press and Netgalley for giving me an eARC of this book in exchange for an honest review.