Georges Farge Forges Ahead in the Grove
Georges Eric Farge charges through the loud, jam-packed room in a Gallic gallop, frantically waving his arms like a drowning man — except this frolicsome Frenchman is submerged only in adoration. He is grinning, hugging, sweating, slapping backs, and emitting a whistle with his lips that pierces the cacophony like…