What Is The Setting Of 'Changing Habits'?

What makes 'Changing Habits' stand out is its setting as an emotional landscape first, geographical one second. Sure, it's technically about nuns in 1960s France, but really it's about being trapped between what was and what could be. The convent isn't just a building—it's layers of history pressing down on these women. You've got medieval tapestries fraying next to modern plumbing that never works right, symbolism you could chew on for days.

The rural isolation amplifies everything. No phones, no real contact with the outside world except when the priest drives out monthly in his shiny new Citroën. That car becomes this recurring symbol of change they can't quite touch. Seasons matter too—harvest time means backbreaking labor that distracts from doubts, winter means long nights to dwell on regrets. The setting does this brilliant double duty as both sanctuary and prison, depending on which character's perspective you're following.

'Changing Habits' nails that bittersweet vibe of transition by setting its story in two contrasting worlds. The primary location is the Convent of Saint Agnes, an aging religious institution that's literally falling apart—peeling frescoes, leaky roofs, the works. It's stuck in time while 1960s France roars forward outside its gates. The author paints this place so vividly you can smell the candle wax and damp stone.

Then there's the nearby village, all bustling cafes and young people in modern clothes, which serves as this tantalizing glimpse of freedom for the restless nuns. The time period matters just as much as the place—Vatican II is shaking up Catholicism, student protests are erupting in Paris, and traditional gender roles are being questioned. The convent becomes this microcosm where all these societal tensions play out through small, personal moments—a nun secretly reading Simone de Beauvoir, another coveting a village girl's mini skirt.

The genius is how the setting mirrors the characters' arcs. As the convent physically deteriorates, so does the sisters' blind obedience. That vineyard they tend? Its grapes keep getting ruined by unpredictable weather—just like their plans. Even the daily rituals (bell schedules, choir practice) create this rhythmic backdrop that makes their rebellions feel more seismic when they come.