An intense smell of wax hits me. Then, the decoration looking like honey and gold reveals itself to my eyes. First, the shiny parquet, then the wool-covered walls carved with simple geometric shapes. A round wooden table sits in the middle. The small white-marble fire place stands out.
I discover the domaine de Malagar, in Saint-Maixant, in Gironde, South-West France, which hosts the François Mauriac Centre. This 20th-century author from Bordeaux stayed in this family property. The centre dedicated to the writer’s life and work kindly invited me for a personal guided tour as I wrote an article on this place for a media I work for. However, I haven’t read any of this books. I heard about them and people who already visited Malagar said good things about it. I also knew that his family belonged to Bordeaux upper-class. What attracted me most about this place was the house and the garden itself, as they symbolize this background.
I share with you what I learned there about Mauriac, both the man and the writer. And discover what makes this visit such a unique cultural experience.
Guide for a visi of the Malagar estate
- How do I get there? From Bordeaux, you can reach Langon by train in 45 minutes. From there, it takes about ¾ hour on foot or 10 minutes by bike (there are some uphills). By car, the journey from Bordeaux takes 55 minutes.
- What are the opening hours? The estate is open from October to March, from 10 am to 1 pm and 2 pm to 5:30 pm, and on Saturdays and Sundays from 11 am to 1 pm and 2 pm to 5:30 pm. From April to September, you can visit it from 10 am to 1 pm and 2 pm to 6 pm, every day.
- How do I visit? You can only enter the house if accompanied by a guide. Several guided tours (in French and in English) take place at fixed times every day. The tour takes in the ground floor only (€9) and, once a month, also includes the first floor (€15 for the full tour). The park and the exhibition in the former winery can be visited independently. Find out about the next visit times here (in French only).
- How do I book? Call +33 5 57 98 17 17 or send an e-mail to accueil@malagar.fr.
How I got to the Malagar estate
7:30 am, on a Tuesday: I leave my place to go to Bordeaux train station by bike. There, people rush after leaving their regional train. The platform where I catch mine is quieter. When I get in with my bike, it feels like the journey is starting.
The vineyards of the Graves region pass under my eyes. After a 45-minutes trip, I get out in Langon. The small town seems to wake up, with there are not many cars yet. I jump on my bike and reach a road that crosses forests and vines. In the sharp turns, it’s necessary to brake in order to anticipate any oncoming traffic. However, I accelerate when I see an ascent to push.
In the village of Saint-Macaire, a café appears. I’ll be spending the morning here before arriving in Malagar, as my tour is scheduled for 2 pm. I settle down on the sheltered terrace and get on with writing a blog post. This is an ideal place to write. Firstly, because it gives me a change of scene. Secondly, it’s outside and I don’t know the people around me. Under my pen, lines fill the white sheets. They form the story of my surf camp in Lacanau.
It’s lunch time. I walk over to a low wall in the town hall’s street. As I eat on this chair from a Tupperware, I admire the high medieval tower that serves as the entrance to the old town. After finishing my meal, I walk through this majestic gateway and reach a narrow cobbled street. On either side are charming little houses dating back to the Middle Age.
Suddenly, a small church, located next to a perimeter wall, surprises me. Inside, I learn it’s the Saint-Sauveur church, which was built between the 12th and the 15th century. I imagine, like it’s often the case in old religious edifices, how hard it must have been to build it. This kind of ancient building makes me admire human ingenuity.
Then I move forward to the edge of the rampart. I expect to find the Garonne river over the low wall, but I’m stunned to discover a ravine. Below, I can see horses grazing in a field. There is green and yellow grass, and around the field, medium-sized trees of various species. I also smell freshly cut grass.
Next, I walk along the streets, following a circuit lined with explanatory signs. These provide information on the history of this well-preserved medieval village. I pass small craft shops in old houses, before returning to the main square.
Back on the upward road, I strain my legs, but the effort doesn’t tire me. However, the sun, which has just come out, warms me up and even makes me sweat under my waterproof jacket.
On my left, a gravel path leads to a gate. I read the inscription “Malagar”. It’s not 2 pm yet. The sunny weather and the rural landscape incite me to continue my trip. After passing by the estate, I ride in the small roads crossing the vines. I smell spicy scents melt with damp undergrowth smells. The rain fell about two hours ago.
At a crossroad, I notice a sign reading “Château Toulouse-Lautrec”. The area seems to be popular within artists’ families. Shortly afterwards, I set off along a path leading to a vineyard, but after looking at the time, I turned back to reach the destination of my journey.
Visiting Malagar: history, literature and exchanges with a passionate guide
When I move forward on the winding track leading to the building, the peaceful atmosphere and golden grass welcome me.
A jump in time
I see a woman coming closer. She must be Astrid, the guide.
- “I’m from Bordaux, and Mauriac’s family background arouses my curiosity. I’ve never read his books. Why aren’t they part of the school program?
- After a writer’s death, it is often some time before his work is taught.”
She expresses herself with precision, articulates well and her voice has a calm tone. I immediately feel welcome here.
Malagar: the second home of a famous writer
Born in Bordeaux in 1885, François Mauriac came from the Bordeaux bourgeoisie on his mother’s side and from wealthy landowners in the Gironde on his father’s. He began his literary career with the publication of a collection of poetry in 1910. In 1933, he was admitted to the Académie française and nearly 20 years later was awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature for his body of work. The writer was also a journalist and essayist.
François Mauriac discovered the Malagar estate, a wine-property that his great-grandfather had acquired in the mid-19th century, when he was a teenager on holiday. He inherited it in 1927. The author, who lives in Paris, stays at the estate at Easter and during the summer, until the grape harvest. Although he spent only a small part of his time there, he drew a great deal of inspiration from the atmosphere and setting of Malagar when writing his novels. When he died in 1970, his 4 children inherited the estate and. In 1986, they decided to donate it to the Aquitaine region.
In front of me, the rural landscape surrounding the building reveals itself. The guide explains that Mauriac’s great-grandfather had turned Malagar into a holiday resort. I feel transported back to the 19th century, to the upper-class of Bordeaux trading bourgeoisie. Silence is the word that comes to mind when I think of these families. I imagine an austere life, in which work plays a major role. It must have been difficult for someone from his background to take up writing, because in this conservative background, artistic professions must not have been looked on favourably. Following in the footsteps of his father and ancestors would have been an easier path, but one that he would have liked less. This background reminds me of another Nobel Prize winner, the German Thomas Mann. He was born into a family of wealthy merchants in Lübeck. The guide adds that Bordeaux was a bourgeois, inward-looking city at the time, and said that Mauriac found it “sad and beautiful.”
She also says that Mauriac’s grand-father made huge developments to the estate. For example, he bought lindens and installed an orchard. In this milieu, owning a wine-property in the Gironde countryside must have been the norm.
After these explanations, Astrid takes me to an entrance of the house, in the kitchen. As soon as I’m inside, the diversity of equipments and utensils strike me. Plus, the room is simpler and more austere than I thought. Even though it must have been very well equipped for its time, this kitchen seems rather banal to me.
“It was the servants’ space. They are secondary characters in his novels.”
Two details catch my attention. First, in the back of the kitchen, there is a scullery, a space where the dishes were kept cool. Then, I see three bottles of château Malagar wine in an iron stand on a table. These two elements come from the past. They remind me that the house is furnished exactly as it was in Mauriac’s day. These are his personal effects that I see today. What’s more, I feel like I’m in the antechamber of the space where François Mauriac used to live, since he probably didn’t come in here that often.
An immersive experience in François Mauriac’s workplace
Next, I enter the dining room. Its meticulous decoration contrasts with the previous room. The wood throughout gives it a cosy character that makes me want to stay here. When I think of a bourgeois home, this kind of decoration springs to mind.
I stay silent to list to the explanations. However, it’s difficult to follow everything Astrid says, because the information is so dense. To help me receive them, I transcribe her words on my little notebook. She makes reference to some of his novels: “You can walk around Malagar with a book by Mauriac in your hand, like The Knot of Vipers. His novels have an atmosphere of introspection and retrospection.”
We move forward to a living room, where the author used to write until he built his office, in 1937. Suddenly, I see the guide manipulating her digital tablet and then turning the light off. A manuscript appears on the wall. I noticed that the lines have very few erasures: “Mauriac wrote his novels in three weeks. He was a very hard worker.”
I picture him, holding a pen for several hours, without looking up.
This explanation fascinates me, as someone who finds it hard to put my thoughts on paper. What’s more, I tend to mess up my manuscript to find the right wording. But that’s not a good thing to do. That’s why I try not to think when I write the first draft. In other words, don’t aim for perfection. I still find it hard to follow this advise by Stephen King, which he shares in his book On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft.
I like the estate’s atmosphere, which is at the same time cosy and rural, and seems to be protected from the outside. I tell myself that writing here must be ideal, because places that are both quiet and surrounded by nature suit me. What’s more, in Mauriac’s period, two of the main distractions of our time didn’t exist: smartphones and social networks. These obstacles, so easy to access, slow down the production of my editorial content. As with reading, writing requires more effort than watching a video on your smartphone or scrolling on Facebook or Instagram. In my opinion, eliminating these tools allows you to write faster. That’s why, several months ago, I switched my phone to silent mode. This prevents me from being disturbed by messages or calls.
The guide continues her detailed informations sharing as we talk: “Mauriac was good at selling his work. He sold his manuscripts to collectors.” So he had inherited his family’s business acumen.
She adds an example: “Thérèse Desqueyroux‘s manuscript is in Austin, Texas.”
While we speak in another room, content appears on the walls. Using her tablet, Astrid can choose from a large number of them, which means that each visit is different. I watch a video archive of an interview with the author, then see a child’s drawing. I recognised it as his portrait. The digital device adds value to the visit. The combination of Mauriac’s personal effects, the guide’s comments and the projected content make for an immersive experience.
We enter the office. This place, where I imagine the writer working, seems comfortable, but uncluttered enough not to be distracting. At the same time, I think it’s impressive that such a work could have emerged from this small, fairly ordinary room.
Moreover, there are portraits of Mauriac, a clock, a chest of drawers and a beautiful day bed. The objects come from another era and add to the historical atmosphere. I find this immersion in the mid-twentieth century fascinating, not least because it’s probably the historical period I know best.
The support enhances my visit
In the stairway leading upstairs, I ask the guide where her interest for François Mauriac comes from.
“I discovered it during my literary studies. After reading several of his novels, it was love at first sight. I then began a thesis on the writer.”
Knowing that she has devoted her professional life to an author impresses me. That’s something else than just enjoying reading a writer’s books in your spare time.
Plus, the way she has shared with me her knowledge for more than one hour indicates me that she likes what she does. She confirms: “I’m lucky enough to be in a job I’m passionate about.” It seems to me that this is a rare situation. I admire her, because she has had to show a great deal of patience and perseverance to achieve this, especially because there aren’t many guide positions at the François Mauriac centre.
As far as I’m concerned, the topic of profession based on passion is complicated because I don’t have any passion. However, many topics interest me, such as history and foreign languages. I also like travelling, especially when it feeds the spirit and invites you to meet new people and discover the local culture. I write about these interests on this blog, which I started as an activity I enjoy.
When we arrive upstairs, I feel privileged. Firstly, because this part of the house has only been open to visitors for two years. Secondly, one can visit it once a month, for conservation reasons.
We enter a bedroom. I notice two separate single beds. This practical detail makes me smile. It seems like, back then, couples preferred to sleep apart so as not to disturb each other. I also look at the wooden floor, which is in good condition. It must date from the 1950s or 1960s.
From a window, I look at the majestic cypress trees lining up against the blue sky. What a view!
“He planted cypress and poplar trees from Italy. They remind him of Tuscany, and the small pine forest reminds him of Saint-Symphorien.”
She already evoked this place at the beginning of the visit. Her parents had built a holiday cottage there, which he visited when he was young.
This arouses my curiosity:
- “Did he like traveling?
- He made a few trips, in England, Switzerland, and Italy for example. However, he wasn’t a great traveller or adventurer.”
I tell myself that the people in Bordeaux of his time liked their region too much to spend time abroad.
The garden protects the house and gives it an atmosphere of peace and serenity. The estate even reminds me of an island of moderation and literary culture in the middle of a more down-to-earth rural ocean. In my opinion, this combination of intellectuality and manual labour creates a good balance. However, physical activity was lacking in Mauriac’s life: “He wasn’t a great sportsman”, Astrid says when I ask her about it. This leads me to imagine not swimming, surfing or cycling, which would be very uncomfortable for me.
After going down a narrow corridor, we enter a small room. This is where a German officer stayed during the Second World War. Mauriac had led him to believe that it was the largest room in the house. I hear the guide quoting the writer – “les temps innommables” (“the unspeakable times”) – to describe this period. I was impressed by her ability to draw extracts from his writings to illustrate different aspects of his life and the estate. It’s almost as if she knows every line of his texts. I suspect that the frequent visits help her to maintain her knowledge.
I ask myself if I can do the same with my favorite books: All Quiet on the Western Front, Buddenbrooks or A Gentleman in Moscow. It’s hard to find. Some extracts come to my mind, although I’m not sure of the accuracy of my memories.
When we go out while chatting, I’m happy to be in the beautiful garden. I can hear the sound of the chainsaw being used by the gardener to trim the tall hedges. We walk along one of the majestic paths, to a small stone bench. From this vantage point, I can admire the rows of vines below and the Garonne valley in the distance.
After visiting a large part of the estate, I’m asking myself if there’s a similar writer’s house in France. According to the guide, it’s not the case. François Mauriac’s one has remained in its original state. In other words, one discovers it like it was when he stayed here. Moreover, the digital content deployed by the guide feeds and enriches the experience. She offers a kind of non-virtual reality: “It’s a rarity and the fruit of the generosity of the Mauriacs. There is the house of Louis Aragon and Elsa Triolet in the Paris region, but cords separate the visitor from the objects.” Suddenly, I thought of Toulouse-Lautrec’s house. Astrid tells me that, unlike in Malagar, there is nothing authentic there any more.
What also makes the place so special is its cultural offering. The brochure I hold gives me an overview of the events happening here. The centre promotes all forms of culture, whether it’s music, literature or movies. I feel like attending one of them to know more about a particular aspect of Mauriac’s life or work. This must be easier to digest than a long visit lasting several hours, which, although fascinating, puts my concentration to the test.
Finishing the tour with a focus on Mauriac’s engagement
We enter in the former winery, where there is an exhibition on François Mauriac’s life. Numerous objects are displayed behind long glass cases on both sides of the large room. They include newspaper articles he wrote, personal effects and photographs.
“He’s a freelance journalist, and so he writes a lot.”
His work as a journalist brought him closer to the events of his time, making him an observer of the 20th century. This makes him all the more fascinating to me. I also like this profession, which I practice, one of the reasons being: to keep abreast of current events.
In the dark room, my focus wanes and I pay little attention to the permanent exhibition. I prefer to chat with Astrid. She tells me about some of his commitments, particularly against the war, in the Resistance, then in favor of decolonization: “He was the first writer to say that torture should be stopped during the Algerian War.” It amazes me that a man can be so close to all the great moments of his century. What’s more, he had to take a stand against the prevailing opinions. I can also imagine that he went against the tide in his milieu.
To summarize, this author, whose work I don’t know, was a notable and influential figure of this time. Again, I ask myself why I didn’t hear about him at school. His books are probably not understandable to secondary school pupils. As the guide told me, to understand Mauriac’s work, it’s better to study it during or after study.
These engagements require moderation. It’s a quality that’s very valuable to me, and that’s why I admire Mauriac. Cultivating it takes effort and time. You have to get informed, develop a critical mind and look beyond the simplistic messages you can find on the Internet. The moderate nature of the writer reminds me of Alain Juppé, who himself expressed his admiration for Montesquieu’s moderation in a book.
Plus, I’m fascinated by the clear-sightedness of his thinking, which seems right today. How did he come to take such humanist positions? His faith played a big part: “He didn’t define himself as a Catholic writer, but rather as a Catholic who writes books”, explains the guide.
This part of the estate reminds me that he published many essays. They interest me more than his novels. The reason is that, according to me, one of the main one of the main attractions of reading is understanding how people thought decades or centuries ago. For example, at the moment, I read The World of Yesterday, Memoirs of a European by Stefan Zweig. This autobiographical essay, written in 1942, tells the story of the rise of Nazism through the eyes of an intellectual of the period. Knowing how he saw things at that time fascinates me.
We go back to the entrance. It’s 5:30 pm and the sun is still shining. I feel happy and full with information. Moreover, I’ve fed my spirit and escaped in time and space. With the possible exception of Montesquieu’s château in La Brède, I can’t remember visiting a house that was so entirely dedicated to the life and the work of one man.
Even though reading a Mauriac novel for the first time is not one of my priorities, this visit encouraged me to do so, at least to rediscover the atmosphere of Malagar. I’ll read one of his books, and maybe I’ll get a taste for it.
Have you ever visited a writer’s house? If so, which one? What did you think? Tell me in the comments!
I thank Astrid for taking the time to share so much information about the estate, and in such an interactive and friendly way. The visit was more of an exchange than a presentation.
