Sudhir Hazareesingh is a fellow at Oxford whose work seems to be primarily focused on modern (18th Century - 21st Century) France. He is of Mauritian extraction. Because of this he offers both an outsider's view of France while still being close enough to offer that differentiated perspective, as Mauritius is considered a part of the Francophonie.
This is a geeky and nerdy book. If you want an easy, simple, and pre-packaged answer booklet for your visit to Paris - you've made a mistake and should go to the Lonely Planet books. If you're learning French / have learned French / enjoy French food then, sadly, this book is also not for you. I think an apt analogy would be something like this: If this book were a book called "How the French Cook", it wouldn't be a friendly introduction with some nice recipes. It would be a dense, specific, historical, gastronomic explication of the development of French cuisine. It would be intended for those who have a degree of: cooking knowledge, knowledge of history, and are capable of maintaining a view of the grande narrative.
Hazareesingh examines essential polarities (a very French thing, one learns in the course of reading the book) such as Rationality/Mysticism, Universality/Specificity, Locality/Nationality and other tensions. He essentially argues that the French are intensely dialectical. If you know anything about Structuralism (capital ‘s’ intended, we take our -isms very seriously here), then during one’s reading one quickly realises why Postmodernism/Critical theory/Structuralism/Post-Structuralism came so easily and naturally to la belle France. The French are infuriatingly, wonderfully confused; they are splendidly assured too.
Hazareesingh is not a boring writer, nor is he actually (certainly not by French standards, in the sense of deliberately obfuscating to prove membership to the club) a difficult writer - he uses standard British English and the occasional 'academese'. He is snarky, eloquent, and opinionated, so it isn't a hagiography to French thinking. He loves his subject. Using honest language, he shows the French's (often) mad ramblings: their hysteria around their language, their quasi-religious adherence to communism, their universalism and their antipathy to the outside ‘civilisations’ (i.e. Islam and the 'Anglo-Saxons/Anglo-Americans').
It is an intellectual history that informs the reader where the nodes of French thinking lie, its points of departure. The second part was especially fascinating to me, since as a humanities student I have been rather acontextually forced to read (god, it was a punishment) many of the big names mentioned here: Sartre, Fanon, Foucault, Derrida, Althusser, Baudrillard, Deleuze, Irigaray, de Beauvoir, Latour etc. bla bla bla - all are placed within the distinctive French intellectual tradition (of obfuscation, [joke]), whose hallmark (Hazareessingh argues) is a penchant for large, overarching analysis. This is in sharp contrast to our (my) technocratic particularism in the English world - hence the Continental vs. Analytic philosophy divide. This, I suspect, has something to do with the strong divide between the educated and the not-quite-so in France, where it is a matter of savoir-vivre to perform your cultivation.
Hazareesingh gives the French too much credit. I think he certainly failed to address the enormous intellectual debt France owes to Germany (and vise-versa, but the book doesn't concern the Teutons). In doing this, he misses the intellectual competition that nations engage in: having your biggest rival and partner in crime on the border certainly contributed to that.
Overall, a very insightful and fun perspective on les gens malheureux.