For close to three-quarters of a century, hardbitten, weather-beaten Provenqal Peasant Gaston Dominici was virtually a law unto himself. Each year the world passed close to his farm along France's famed Route Napoleon, but the streams of tourists bound for the pleasure domes of the Riviera were as remote from him and his world as so many swallows in the sky. Dirt-poor as all his neighbors, Gaston lived like them close to the soil and the wind and the rain, a hard, dour patriarch who ruled his little family with an iron hand and...
To continue reading:
or
Log-In
