In 1617, the Maréchal d’Ancre, much hated by the people, was assassinated. The day after the assassination, his body was exhumed and cut in pieces by a savage crowd, which the day before had not been able to vent its hatred thoroughly. One of these “posthumous executioners” tore the heart out of the Maréchal’s chest, intending to devour it in front of everyone. But before he brought it to his mouth he had it cooked a point over a charcoal fire, and sprinkled it with aromatic vinegar.
~ Aldo Buzzi, Journey to the Land of the Flies
In Midnight Oil, the young V.S. Pritchett (then an ex-pat in Paris) is warned by a strict-minded old crone that the French “are mesmerized by sensuality” and that “their food is the cause of it – cooking in butter, the sauces, aperitifs,” etc. There’s a passage in Sentimental Education to back her up. Moreau is at a party, enjoying himself immensely, when Flaubert informs us with a wink that “the political verbiage and the good food began to dull his sense of morality.” No doubt the Maréchal’s cannibal was similarly inspired. It would make a nice dissertation topic: the shared history of political violence and barbecue.