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The idea for this book began with a lecture I gave at the New York Public Library in May 2008 entitled “Seduction
à la française
.” Nicolas Sarkozy had just marked the first anniversary of his presidency, and a poll had determined that the French people considered him the worst president in the history of the Fifth Republic. I explained to the audience that seduction is a key to understanding France and the French, and that Sarkozy had not mastered the rules of the seduction game.

Paul Golob, the editorial director of Times Books, who years before had edited
Persian Mirrors
, my book on Iran, came up to me afterward. “Elaine,” he said, “this is your next book.”

So I first must thank Paul, who once again became my editor. He spotted the makings of a book in what was originally conceived as a diverting forty-minute talk and helped shape it into
La Seduction
. His deep knowledge of France and things French (he really does know the difference between a Côte de Beaune and a Côte de Nuits) added a layer of complexity to the text. His editing and reediting improved and refined it.

I also must thank Paul LeClerc, the New York Public Library’s director and a scholar on France, who invited me to speak and engaged with me in a lively conversation about the country.

My French adventure had started decades before. James Valone, a warm and wonderful history professor and my academic adviser in college, awakened my passion for French history and persuaded me to pursue it in graduate school. The late Maynard Parker sent me to Paris for the first time as a foreign correspondent for
Newsweek
when I was still in my twenties.

In 2002, the
New York Times
gave me a dream job: Paris bureau chief. Seven years later, Bill Keller and the other editors allowed me to take time off to write this book. Jill Abramson read parts of the manuscript and gave me strategic advice. William Schmidt, whom I have known since our days together in
Newsweek
’s Chicago bureau in the 1970s, was more helpful than he will ever know.

La Seduction
was written with the help of a grant from the Woodrow Wilson International Center for Scholars, which hosted me as a public policy fellow. Lee H. Hamilton, Michael Van Dusen, and Robert S. Litwak, who had welcomed me as a fellow when I was writing
Persian Mirrors
, once again made me part of the Wilson Center family.

Princeton University hosted me in the fall of 2010 as a Ferris Professor of Journalism, which gave me access to the awesome resources of the university. A special thanks to Carol Rigolot, the director of the program; her husband, François Rigolot; and Mary Harper for their guidance on France and French literature; and to the Princeton staff: Lin DeTitta, Cass Garner, and Susan Coburn. Thanks also to Brooke Kroeger, who heads the Arthur L. Carter Journalism Institute at New York University, for offering me a perch as visiting scholar.

Once again, Andrew Wylie, the literary agent who makes magic, never sleeps, and responds to every query in record time, and Jeffrey Posternak, his deputy, were faithful, patient partners in the process.

At Times Books and Henry Holt, several people played important roles behind the scenes, including Alex Ward at the
Times
and the marketing and publicity team, especially Stephen Rubin, Maggie Richards, and Maggie Sivon. Emi Ikkanda, Paul’s assistant, was helpful in so many ways—organizing photographs, reading the manuscript, coordinating trans-Atlantic communication.

I would like to single out a number of friends for special thanks.

Barbara Ireland, a gifted former
New York Times
editor, spent days, evenings, and weekends reading every line of the manuscript, structuring, shaping, and polishing it and pushing me to find my voice when I was singing in the wrong key.

Bertrand Vannier, a friend and colleague for more than thirty years, carried my manuscript to the beach at Île de Ré; he urged me to make the book shorter and funnier. Michèle Fitoussi, the gifted writer and journalist, shared ideas, gave me leads, and opened doors in the world of French journalism, fashion, and culture. I treasure our friendship.

Basil Katz, a talented journalist and former
New York Times
research assistant, taught me about French cuisine. Jean-Claude Ribaut took up where Basil left off. Walter Wells taught me about French wine. Sophie-Caroline de Margerie took me into her world and taught me about style, beauty, women, and culture. Her husband, Gilles de Margerie, guided me through the minefield of French politics.

Chandler Burr introduced me to the French perfume world and taught me about scent. Gérard Araud, Philippe Errera, and Catherine Colonna schooled me in the ins and outs of French diplomacy. Alan Riding, my mentor in French culture in the
New York Times
Paris bureau, suggested I write more about romance and sex. He saved me from several errors and kept me laughing.

Joyce and Isadore Seltzer, Carol Giacomo, Susan Fraker, Farideh Farhi, Lin Widmann, Geraldine Baum, and Donna Smith were rocks of support, as they were the last time I threw myself into book writing.

Other friends and colleagues read all or part of the manuscript, offering ideas and correcting mistakes, among them Pierre Assouline, Ariane Bernard, Charles Bremner, Marc Charney, Maïa de la Baume, Sybil d’Origny, Maureen Dowd, Hélène Fouquet, Philippe Hertzberg, Julia Husson, Philippe Labro, Frédéric Martel, Sophie Meunier, Jonathan Randal, Shéhérazade Semsar de Boisséson, and Marie-Christine Vannier.

Ed Alcock, a keen-eyed photographer, took many of the photos in the book and helped me locate and choose others. Tom Bodkin, Kelly Doe, Owen Franken, Jeffrey Scales, and Daphné Anglès shared their artistic visions. Ron Skarzenski solved obscure technical problems.

Florence Coupry, a brilliant young journalist, was at my side day after day throughout most of the process. Simply put, she can do—and did—everything. She researched minute facts, translated interviews, resolved logistical and computer problems, found obscure photos, took videos, and watched old French films. Her pursuit of excellence is matched only by her sharp sense of humor. (At particularly stressful moments, she would pull out a hula hoop.)

Sanae Lemoine, a French student and fiction writer studying in the United States, brought a novelist’s sensibility to our research. Sarah Sahel and Camille Le Coz, two intrepid French students, cheerfully carried out impossible assignments. Rebecca Ruquist, Elisabeth Zerofsky, Lucie Lecocq, and Samuel Lopez-Barrantes joined our team at crucial moments.

As for the dozens of French men and women—among them politicians, diplomats, artists, writers, chefs, businessmen, merchants, farmers, philosophers, journalists, students, fashion designers, perfume creators, museum curators—who instructed me in French ways and their meaning over the years, their perspectives were invaluable. I am especially grateful to the women in my French women’s group, who accepted me, a foreigner, into their ranks and embraced this project.

The most important support came from my family. My daughters, Alessandra and Gabriela, first resisted, then reveled in, the Paris adventure. They learned to speak French, played on French sports teams, and developed a taste for foie gras,
magret de canard
,
steak frites
, and champagne. When I started writing the book, Alessandra played cheerleader, urging me on with notes like, “A safe writer is not a good writer,” and “I will treat you to a happy hour and a pedicure when you’re done.” Gabriela brought home stories about discovering seduction in her everyday life. She used her keen photographer’s eye to find beauty in remote corners of France and even offered her legs for the cover photo. (Despite her great legs, the legs belong to someone else.)

My mother-in-law, Sondra Brown, offered hospitality, companionship, and love during my long stints in New York.

Most important was my husband, Andrew Plump. He transferred his work to Paris; joined Darrois Villey Maillot Brochier, a very French law firm, as its only American lawyer; passed the French bar exams; and got to wear a long black robe into French courtrooms. During my book writing, he shared his stories, helped formulate the book’s structure, and read over the chapters with lawyerly precision. He is—as he has been since we met—my best editor and best friend.