Like ''Le Divorce'' and ''Le Mariage,'' Johnson's latest is an unabashed love letter to a fictional France in which everyone is an Oh la la, mon Dieu!-exclaiming aristocrat whom crass Americans can only dream of emulating. Without a single compelling character (see ''Le Divorce'''s wry Isabel) to manage the messy plot (Alpine avalanche, adultery, and -- snore! -- British vs. French inheritance laws), the book is as flat and forgettable as a day-old crepe.

