Volto ao verbo neste blog depois de mais de um mês de afastamento. Um afastamento forçado, não por causa da Gripe A, mas fruto da adaptação a novos desafios.

Gosto da aventura de, de vez em quando, desligar-me da realidade. Raramente passei os olhos pelos jornais durante o mês que passou. Sabe-me bem fazê-lo de vez em quando, embora nos últimos anos, tal tenha sido impossível. Na retoma, registo a última vergonha nacional com a Face Oculta e o desaparecimento de António Sérgio.

A nível local o incêndio no centro de Guimarães e, nas Caldas das Taipas, o desmoronamento do miolo de mais um prédio no centro da vila – prova de que algo vai mal na gestão urbana do concelho de Guimarães. Uma boa notícia, para mim em particular e penso que também para todos: a abertura da FNAC na cidade.

Tout le monde connaît Les Trois mousquetaires. Beaucoup connaissent Vingt ans après. Peu connaissent Pauline. Roman de jeunesse, ce court récit romantique, qui doit beaucoup au gothique,  est délicieux.

Bandits de grands chemins, femmes ravissantes de pureté et d’amour, gentilshommes au grand cœur. Un roman d’aventure comme on n’en lit guère plus  aujourd’hui. Dumas cède la parole au narrateur, le jeune Nerval, afin de se faire conter l’histoire sombre de celle qu’il a accompagnée jusqu’à la tombe. On tremble, on pleure, on souffre aussi et l’on referme ce court roman plein d’une nostalgie propre à cette atmosphère sombre et brumeuse, souvent lugubre.

La plume de Dumas est jeune et l’on ressent comme un manque de densité parfois. Mais ce sont surtout les promesses de ses oeuvres à venir qui transparaissent ici, pour le plus grand bonheur de ses lecteurs.

Debesų patalai papilkėję
Nemazgoti jau tris amžinybes
Subangavo vos paliesti vėjo
Ir lašiukais į delną įžnybo

Bandė burti man didelį kelią
Ir beprotiškos meilės linkėjo
Čiupo kelti lengvutę suknelę
Ir paleidę kažkur nuskubėjo

Išsisklaidė lyg dūmas virš žvakės
Vaiskią dieną atvėrę kaip akį
Lyg dainavo kažką, lyg ką sakė
Orą virpinant sniego plaštakėms

O virš didelio didelio lauko
Suko ratą po rato lakūnas
Ir nors nekviečiau jo ir nelaukiau
Bet jei atnešė vėjas – lai būna

2009 m. lapkritis

El maestro de esgrima (1988)

Durante el reinado de Isabel II, Don Jaime Astarloa, veterano profesor de esgrima en horas bajas, que sobrevive con unos pocos alumnos, recibe la visita de Adela de Otero, una misteriosa mujer que desea contratarle para que le dé clases. De pronto, don Jaime se ve implicado en una oscura trama de asesinatos con los que se intenta impedir que un importante escándalo salga a la luz.

Novela de aventuras pero también policiaca, de traiciones y maniobras políticas en el Madrid de 1868. La obra es, sobre todo, una inquietante parábola sobre el poder del dinero, la ambición política y la extinción de los valores de honradez y fidelidad en este siglo XX que agoniza.

La adaptación de esta novela de Reverte fue dirigida por Pedro Olea en 1992 y consiguió ser nominada a 11 premios Goya. “El maestro de esgrima” logró llevarse el de Mejor Guión Adaptado, Mejor Música Original y Mejor Diseño de Vestuario. También recibió un premio en el Festival de Cognac en Francia y fue finalista en los Oscars de 1992.

 La tabla de Flandes (1990)

Un maestro flamenco introduce en uno de sus cuadros, en forma de partida de ajedrez, la clave de un secreto que pudo cambiar la historia de Europa. Cinco siglos después, una joven restauradora de arte, un anticuario homosexual y un excéntrico jugador de ajedrez unen sus fuerzas para tratar de resolver el enigma. La investigación les conducirá a través de una apasionante pesquisa en la que los movimientos del juego irán abriendo, las puertas de un misterio que acabará por envolver a todos sus protagonistas.

La adaptación cinematográfica fue llevada a cabo por el director Jim McBride en 1994, su nombre en versión original fue “Uncovered”.

 Un asunto de honor (Cachito) (1995)

Relato corto, cuento breve, moderna historia de hadas y piratas, de buenos y malos, escrita con una acción trepidante y un humor agridulce y desesperado. “Un asunto de honor” cuenta la historia de Manolo, joven camionero y ex-presidiario, y María, la Cenicienta cuya virginidad ha sido vendida por el malvado Portugués Almeida. Este relato fue llevado al cine por Enrique Urbizu bajo el título de”Cachito”. En su versión audiolibro está leído por José Sacristán.

 Territorio Comanche (1994)

“Para un reportero en una guerra, territorio comanche es el lugar donde el instinto dice que pares el coche y des media vuelta; donde siempre parece a punto de anochecer y caminas pegado a las paredes, hacia los tiros que suenan a lo lejos, mientras escuchas el ruido de tus pasos sobre los cristales rotos. El suelo de las guerras está siempre cubierto de cristales rotos. Territorio comanche es allí donde los oyes crujir bajo tus botas, y aunque no ves a nadie sabes que te están mirando.” Así define Arturo Pérez-Reverte el escenario inquietante en que se ha movido como reportero de guerra. En “Territorio comanche”, abandonando por primera vez su faceta de narrador de ficciones, Pérez-Reverte nos enfrenta con la visión más real y descarnada, no exenta de ternura e ironía, sobre el trabajo de los corresponsales de guerra en la ex Yugoslavia. Un relato apasionado que se lee como una novela y obliga a preguntarse si existe una ética en el filo entre la vida y la muerte. Fue llevada al cine de la mano de Gerardo Herrero en 1997.

 El Club Dumas (1993)

¿Puede un libro ser investigado policialmente como si de un crimen se tratara, utilizando como pistas sus páginas, papel, grabados y marcas de impresión, en un apasionante recorrido de tres siglos? Lucas Corso, mercenario de la bibliofilia, cazador de libros por cuenta ajena, debe encontrar respuesta a esa pregunta cuando recibe un doble encargo de sus clientes: autentificar un manuscrito de Los tres mosqueteros y descifrar el enigma de un extraño libro, quemado en 1667 con el hombre que lo imprimió. En 1999 Roman Polanski dirige “La Novena puerta” película basada en esta obra de Arturo Pérez Reverte y ganadora del premio Premios del Cine Europeo.

 El Capitán Alatriste (1996)

“No era el hombre más honesto ni el más piadoso, pero era un hombre valiente”… Con estas palabras empieza “El capitán Alatriste”, la historia de un soldado veterano de los tercios de Flandes que malvive como espadachín a sueldo en el Madrid del siglo XVII. Sus aventuras peligrosas y apasionantes nos sumergen sin aliento en las intrigas de la Corte de una España corrupta y en decadencia, las emboscadas en callejones oscuros entre el brillo de dos aceros, las tabernas donde Francisco de Quevedo compone sonetos entre pendencias y botellas de vino, o los corrales de comedias donde las representaciones de Lope de Vega terminan a cuchilladas. Todo ello de la mano de personajes entrañables o fascinantes: el joven Íñigo Balboa, el implacable inquisidor fray Emilio Bocanegra, el peligroso asesino Gualterio Malatesta, o el diabólico secretario del rey, Luis de Alquézar. Acción, historia y aventura se dan cita en estas páginas inolvidables.

Su adaptación cinematográfica la llevó a cabo Agustín Díaz Yanes en 2006.

 La Reina del Sur (2002)

En “La Reina del Sur”, este autor nos muestra, con la maestría que acostumbra, que sus exploraciones de la realidad pueden convertirse en la ficción más sorprendente. Que sólo alguien como él puede crear un personaje literario que trasciende esa realidad para convertirse en héroe. Pero esta vez el héroe es una mujer: Teresa Mendoza. Una mujer sola que crea un imperio de la nada en un mundo de hombres duros, el del narcotráfico. Una persona capaz de todo y de nada porque la letra de su vida no la ha escrito ella. “La Reina del Sur” es, sin duda, una novela que arrasa, que sorprende, que perturba.

La película se comenzó a rodar en 2009 pero el realizador Jonathan Jakubowicz renunció al proyecto de llevar al cine esta novela como consecuencia de la situación de violencia que impera en algunos puntos de México.

 La carta esférica (2000)

Es la historia de un marino sin barco, desterrado del mar, a quien rescata una mujer que le devuelve a la aventura marina. Cartografía histórica, antiguos archivos, museos navales y buscadores de naufragios componen el argumento de “La carta esférica”. Toda la literatura náutica, desde Homero a Conrad y Melville, está explícita o implícita en las páginas de “La carta esférica”. Una novela en la que figuran las grandes obsesiones literarias de Arturo Pérez Reverte: el enigma, la trama de misterio y la investigación histórica.

La carta esférica ha sido la última película de Arturo Pérez Reverte llevada al cine de la mano de Imanol Uribe en 2007.

From December 16th 2009 to March 7th 2010 a major art exhibition that allows a large audience to experience different works will be held at the Beurs van Berlage in Amsterdam. The exhibition, entitled: Niet Normaal Difference on Display, features the work of internationally renowned artists who in their work address a defining question of our time: what is normal and who decides? 

Artists create space for diversity with humor and insight. Works by among others Marc Quinn, Marlene Dumas, Viktor & Rolf, The Chapman Brothers and Aernout Mik will be exhibited.Science, games and design will also be featured, and there will be a separate movie theater. In addition, performances, discussions, film screenings, lectures and parties will be held. The exhibition and parallel programming will engage, confront and offer alternative perspectives. Rebellion and humor alternate. Art and science come together to confront urgent questions facing today’s society.

There is a small article up on The Wall Street Journal about the husband-and-wife team of Richard Pevear and Larissa Volokhonsky.  I must give credit to The Elegant Variation in drawing my attention to it, a website that I was just taking issue with today, and where I’m about to take issue again.

First off, Pevear and Volokhonsky are renowned in the publishing world for their work, perhaps even having won awards, I don’t know.  They translate classic Russian works together, and Pevear has translated some French on his own.  I’m familiar with these two because about a month or so back I read the Everyman’s Library edition of The Brothers Karamazov, which Pevear and Volokhonsky worked on.  Also, about a year ago I read Pevear’s independent translation of The Three Musketeers, published by Viking, which I believe is now available from Penguin.

Now I’m leery to criticize the translation of Karamazov, seeing as it’s my first Russian novel, and thus making it my first encounter with Fyodor Dostoevsky.  My problem with that book is that it’s so very overrated and, in my view, perhaps not even all that great a book, but I’ll have more to say about that soon enough.  Don’t you worry!

I can, however, safely criticize Pevear’s translation of The Three Musketeers by Alexandre Dumas.  To his credit, Pevear does restore a missing element that had been censored from previous translations into English from it’s native French.  Without giving anything away, there was a minor sex scene that had been altered between two of the characters, and Pevear does include it in his version of the book.  Make no mistake, it’s an important development, but it concerns a single sentence if I recall, and nothing more.

I was anxious to get my hands on a newer translation of the Musketeers, as I’m a devoted fan, and a fan of Dumas in general; he’s one of my favorite authors.  As I read through the book, I seemed to enjoy myself, but when I had finished I had a very distinct feeling that something was missing.  The translation, to my knowledge, is clean enough, but if I had to recommend a version of the Musketeers to someone, this would not be the one.

The writing was crisp and kept up the familiar pace of the adventure, but it also read as very, if not distinctly, modern, and I ultimately decided that it was a little too modern for it’s own good.  Much of the lush romantic swooning that I had come to associate with Dumas seemed to be missing, and the weightier, more archaic sounding language seemed to be completely overhauled to the point of, quite frankly, seeming somehow unfamiliar.  It’s a very literal translation, if that makes any sense.

Now a couple points I want to make.

Have I read The Three Musketeers in French and attempted to translate it myself? No, I have not.  I took some French in junior-high and high-school, but I don’t necessarily believe that I would have the confidence to delve into such an endeavor personally, and I don’t currently have access to a copy of the novel in it’s original French, leaving this argument I’m making to guesswork.

Second, I just noted ‘the weightier, more archaic sounding language.’  Could that very well be the work of time and place versus the translation itself? And could my own familiarity and sense of comfort with older versions be limiting me to a certain bias? Perhaps… but I place very sensitive emphasis on that perhaps.

I’ve read quite a few versions of the Musketeers over the years, and a sizable amount of books by Dumas, and rarely done by the same translator twice:

1.  About four versions of The Three Musketeers; the William Barrow edition from 1846 published by Oxford and Richard Pevear’s version from 2006 being the two in my current library.

2.  Twenty Years After, 2nd in the Musketeer saga, is more difficult to nail down, but large credit goes to William Robson who supplied an authorized French text to London, and seems to be the basis for most modern translations, but I’m not sure who receives the credit for the English itself; my version is published by Oxford.

3.  The Vicomte de Bragelonne, 3rd in the Musketeer saga, is also a bit messy.  My Oxford copy credits an 1848 section (Thomas Williams) and an 1850-1 complete text (Thomas Pederson) for the basis of a copy put out by Routledge in 1857, which has been revised and cleaned up, apparently, for my copy.

4.  Two separate editions of The Count of Monte Cristo; one translated by Robin Buss originally published in 1996, currently available from Penguin, and the recent Everyman’s Library edition from the first English translation credited as anonymous from 1846, and has been revised by Peter Washington; I should note that I’ve yet to read the second one.  I’ve also read an older abridged version (butchered in half) many years ago.  I can credit it to Signet Classics, but that’s all, and it wasn’t very good.

5.  Another Robin Buss translation, this time for the novel, The Women’s War, with an original copyright of 2006, currently available from Penguin.

6.  And lastly, a modern translation of The Knight of Maison-Rouge from Julie Rose, credited as being released in 2003 to the Modern Library.

Whew!

Now, the Oxford editions of the Musketeers are pretty much the copies that readers will find the most readily available.  They are fine editions, but a little on the old-fashioned side of things, but they relate the tales well and convey Dumas’ own knack for storytelling beautifully.

The Julie Rose translation of Red House is good, but it feels a bit conservative.  It could be the book itself, it could be her own stamp of translation, I’m not really in a position to say, but it did feel oddly cold for a Dumas book.  I recently picked up her newer translation of Hugo’s Les Miserables (also Modern Library), so I’ll have to take stock of things when I get around to reading that one.

Now the Robin Buss books are going to be my Rosetta Stone, if you will.  Having read both of Buss’ versions (Monte Cristo and The Women’s War), there remains a a recognizable style that is distinctly, strictly Dumas, but with a bit of modern approach that suggests the effort in trying not to limit the sound or cadence of the translation itself to any specific era.  In short? The Buss translations have more in common with the texture of the first translations of Dumas in English.  It sounds like the Dumas I came to fall in love with in the Oxford editions of the Musketeer books, but not sounding as though it was filtered through a specific era (Victorian? or was that later? I’d have to check).  All the emotion and sparkling psychology of Dumas is richly on display, to the point that I find it crushing that Buss never translated any of the Musketeer books, and never will; he died in December 2006.

It might seem inappropriate to even make this comparison, but the basis of an argument lies in this: the translation work of Robin Buss is very different than the translation work of Richard Pevear.  Granted, we’re talking completely different books here, but when I say that I wouldn’t recommend the Pevear version of The Three Musketeers, I mean it.  Judging how Dumas can be effectively conveyed in modern English put’s Pevear’s work at a step back.

Now here is my argument: having no frame of reference to hold to Russian literature, I’m a little concerned about the Volokhonsky and Pevear translation work that they have done together.

Is it blind and irrational? Yes, and I understand that they have pretty much the whole industry propping them up with accolades, and I would say that their version of Karamazov sounded richer than Pevear’s sole work on the Musketeers, so maybe they just work better together.  But there is the unmistakable fact that the industry seemed to praise Pevear’s version of The Three Musketeers, not that I examined the issue heavily, mind you, but I did come across a few things.

Specifically! Seeing TEV’s post from Sarvas linking to the Wall Street Journal article, in which Sarvas says “The Royal Family of translators, Richard Pevear and Larissa Volokhonsky, are interviewed in the Wall Street Journal,” it jolted my memory on something I had read from Sarvas on his blog some time ago.  I can’t give a date, but it was in regards to Pevear’s new translation of The Three Musketeers, in which Sarvas simply commented “which we liked.”  I remember at the time thinking, huh, I didn’t like it! and thought that it was just yet another opportunity to find myself at odds with Sarvas and his blog.

I have to wonder.  Is Mark Sarvas the real deal and an unbiased opinion on a very honest and widely read blog? Or is he so enmeshed in the industry that it’s just more of the same signs of blind industry acceptance for the lucky few to have been admitted beyond the hallowed, golden gates? My disagreeing with him on the Dumas matter seems slight, even a bit shrill, but to someone like myself it speaks volumes about taste and judgement, and, frankly, I feel comfortable on my side of the issue.

This worries me because if the publishing and literary world is collectively so navel-gazing to the point of almost going down on itself, can one trust their faith to be dealt with honestly and seriously in regards to the quality and craftsmanship that the industry has an invested interest in promoting? I’m starting to wonder, and it makes me uncomfortable with many of the recognized literary blogs that often sound more like endless PR, rather than genuine outbursts of sincerity from real book lovers.

I’m okay with thinking that Pevear and Volokhonsky are a capable team in regards to translating Russian literature, as my own time with their shared work didn’t see any obvious fault to the language, but then again, I have nothing to compare that to, and little to no background on the specific subject either.  That really does concern me, because I’ve read translations of books before that later proved to be inferior, but seemed widely, if not commonly accepted at the time.  And this industry is really enamored with these two, which I hope isn’t representative of fawning adulation.

I’m just as unnerved by the fact that I trust well-connected, highly intelligent and literate people who run sites like The Elegant Variation to give me unfiltered reviews and insight that I can trust.  I’d like to think that it’s generally the case with many other blogs, columns, critics and publishers as well.  Could there be a difference of opinion? Absolutely.  I do find liking Pevear’s translation of the Musketeers odd, though.  And as a Dumas fan, it sticks out to me.

The Wall Street Journal article is here:

http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424052748704431804574539613167679976.html?mod=article-outset-

Mark Sarvas here:

http://marksarvas.blogs.com/

Litterbury is currently reading The Prince of Tides by Pat Conroy which was given to him as a gift.

I’m also just going into some of the original Oz books by L. Frank Baum.  I’d previously read the first 4, but I decided to skip 5 and moved onto 6, The Emerald City of Oz, and I ended up skipping 7 and just received 8, Tik Tok of Oz, from Amazon.  I normally wouldn’t be so sporadic, but I’m actually collecting the facsimile editions put out by Books Of Wonder (they are gorgeous!)  and am picking and choosing what interests me as I scrape together any available cash.  The maps of Oz on Tik Tok’s endpapers were what sent it over for me.

On a side note, I’m in kind of an Ozzy mood right now and not because of the new DVD of the MGM musical, but because I just watched the Tin Man miniseries on DVD.  It was good (decent?), but it was no Return to Oz, a.k.a., the best Oz film ever.  I might have further things to say on all of that later.  Pending!

I also recently acquired a second Edith Wharton book from the Library of America.  I already had the selected novels, and have read two out of four (House of Mirth, The Reef; both of which were extraordinary), but I received Novellas and Other writings for my birthday and I just read Madame de Treymes;  impeccably written as usual.  Wharton might be one of the best authors I’ve ever read.  She is damn good.

Another recent acquisition was the newly published edition of The Count of Monte Cristo by Dumas from Everyman’s Library.  I’m probably not going to read it, as I read the newer, updated and restored translation by Robin Buss from Penguin; all roughly 1250 pages of it.  I had read an abridged version in the past from Signet (years ago, sixth grade?), but I now realize how very butchered it was.  The Buss translation is a real stunner, and I cried through quite a bit of it.  That actually surprised me because I remember liking the book for it’s adventure, but felt it lacked the emotional depth and warmth that had so endeared me to my beloved Musketeers.  That was clearly an effect from the butchering.  So, the Buss translation is the one to have, but I felt compelled to have Edmond on acid-free paper with a ribbon marker for safe-keeping.  He does look handsome on the shelf!

I also received a very special present of another Monte Cristo copy, this one being from the Collector’s Library from Barnes and Noble.  It’s tiny! And not just because it’s an abridged cut, but that it’s only a few inches by a few inches.  Nice detailing on it though, with ribbon marker, gold top-stain and an embossed publishing stamp on the front of it’s hardcover, and it features custom publishers endpapers and a little dust-jacket.  Too much Dumas is never enough.

I also received the LOA edition of F. Scott Fitzgerald but have not started it yet.  I’ve read The Great Gatsby twice and each time I’ve failed to see why everyone ohh’s and ahh’s over it; I think it’s a bit overrated if you ask me.  I did once get about halfway through This Side of Paradise (7th grade) but quit, which I’m not sure why because I remember loving it and marveling at how it was so much better than Gatsby.  Bear in mind, I think Gatsby is fantastic as a time capsule of a compelling era, and I appreciated the sexuality of the book in regards to the scene of two guys in bed together (despite the fact that it flies over everyone’s head; even mine the first time I read it!), but I take real issue with any book that is so wildly overblown, and given it’s lorded over reputation, and the fact that it makes every high school graduate’s list of favorite books of all time, I delight is skewering it.

EDIT: spelling; “their” and “they are” are obviously different!

Hey Everyone,

Have I ever mentioned that I hate the internet at Pont-Aven School of Contemorary Art? Well, I do. I am attempting to post several of my favorite artworks from the trip, and…we’ll see how it goes.

Le Centre Pompidou

Marlene Dumas

Eva Hesse

Dorthea Tanning

Jackson Pollock

Georges Rouault (There was an entire Rouault room–I almost peed my pants!)

Staatliche Museen zu Berlin

Robert Rauschenberg (HELL YES)

This collection of awesome art will be continued….

Until Next Time,

Zoe

Pour la plupart, Boni Suba ne voulait absolument rien dire. Pour quelques-uns, c’était un dépanneur pas cher à Cartierville. Mais depuis le 10 novembre dernier, Boni Suba prendra un tout autre sens.

Les six membres du groupe ont lancé leur premier album (Boni Suba) de 12 chansons lors d’un concert au National. La retransmission du concert à l’échelle internationale n’étant PAS ENCORE possible pour le groupe, je n’ai pas pu assister à l’événement. Cela étant dit, leur album est déjà en vente dans tous les bons disquaires et également sur iTunes.

Comme vous le voyez, je suis légèrement biaisé étant donné que ce sont des amis avec qui j’ai grandi à l’école primaire et l’école secondaire. Mais peu importe, le CD vaut la peine, c’est promis ! Sans oublier qu’ils feront la première partie des concerts de Dumas durant le mois de décembre.

Félicitations à Boni Suba pour ce bel album, dont voici le premier vidéoclip «Kicked Out»:

In my previous post I discussed the holidays and having memories of going to see ‘The Nutcracker’ ballet. At the end of my post, I left off with the most important aspect of of the ballet. The significance of this work of art is tremendous, not only because the music was written by Tchaikovsky, but because of the era that it was written in…

First, we will start with Tchaikovsky and a short bio: Russian born, Tchaikovsky lived from 1840 to 1893. In 1862, he entered the St. Petersburg Conservatory (against the wishes of his parents). He is one of the most well known composers of the Romantic era of classical music. When writing music, his phenomenal talent spanned from opera, ballet, symphony, and orchestra. Among many other works, he is credited with the ‘1812 Overture’, music for ‘The Nutcracker’ and ‘The sleeping Beauty’ ballets, and ten operas. In 1891, Tchaikovsky began to write the music for ‘The Nutcracker’.

Tchaikovsky was a popular composer of the Romantic era of music (1820 – 1900). Classical music of this era was more energetic and passionate than the Classicism period before it (1750 – 1820). The Romantic era of classical music offered more grand ensembles and freer orchestration. As a side note, this new and more expressive era of music allowed composers to distinguish themselves from one another (based on form and so forth). During this time, the Industrial Revolution was thriving. Russian society at the time had been traditionally very strict: the arts were a very important methods of free thought. Russians began to incorporate Western ideals.

In 1892, Tchaikovsky finished the music for ‘The Nutcracker’. The first performance of the ballet was held on December 18, 1892. The first complete version that was held in the United States took place in 1944, by the San Francisco Ballet. To date, it continues to entertain thousands. Now that you know the storyline of the ballet, a bit about Tchaikovsky, and a little about the Romantic era of classical music; can you connect the dots?

The story, the composer, and the era all combined create perfection. There is perfect harmony of the three, and all three had to be present in order to succeed. If you have not seen ‘The Nutcracker’, please do so. And take your children as well. My first viewing took place when I was seven. I loved it. The costumes/characters make the experience fun for kids. The music and graceful dancers entertain the parents. I have probably seen it about twelve times and it has not gotten old. Whether going for the first time, or going again, go home after and ponder the significance of the fact that a union of three is what created a masterpiece.

For my family, the first part of November marks the beginning of the holiday season. This means a large increase in phone calls to one another since most of my family resides in five different states. There is nothing better than free long distance phone calls when it comes to the holidays. So far, my family and I have already discussed Thanksgiving and Christmas menus, along with decorating ideas, and who is going where. The holidays is also all about tradition in my family (as it is with a great deal of families around the world). For instance, everyone in my family has always been allowed to open a single ‘teaser’ present on Christmas Eve. And growing up, we always attended ‘The Nutcracker’ ballet.

‘The Nutcracker’ has been around for many years but I am shocked when I see just how many people don’t know the story of the ballet. For those of you that don’t know, here is a brief synopsis…

‘The Nutcracker And The King of Mice’ was written by a German
author named Ernst Theodor Wilhelm Hoffmann in 1816.
Alexandre Dumas, a French writer, later completed a revised
version of the story. In 1891, ballet dancer and choreographer,
Marius Petipa came up with the brilliant idea of turning the story
into a ballet. ‘The Nutcracker’ ballet that we see today is based
on Dumas’ revision of Hoffmann’s original version. And from the
start of the ballet, we begin to hear the beautiful sounds of
classical music being played by the orchestra.

‘The Nutcracker’ story opens with a Christmas party. At the
party, a girl is given the gift of a nutcracker, which her jealous
brother breaks. It is then repaired and left under the Christmas
tree. Later in the evening, the girl goes downstairs to get her
nutcracker; and falls asleep under the tree with it. At midnight,
the girl is transformed into the same size as her nutcracker
(which, along with all the other toys under the tree, comes to
life). A mouse king and his army of mice fight the nutcracker and
his army of soldiers. After the mouse king is defeated, the
nutcracker turns into a prince. He takes her to the Land of Snow
and the Land of Sweets and the audiences gets to gaze
upon many wonderful dance scenes. In the end, the girl awakens
from her dream.

The link between classical music and this ballet is that the music was written by Tchaikovsky. There is an even deeper significance to Tchaikovsky and ‘The Nutcracker’…..

… GEBURTSTAG!

Lieber Francois,

herzlichen Glückwunsch, alles Gute, eine schöne Feier und für die nächsten 57 Jahre viel Gesundheit und Glück.

© Nancy Martin

Há crise, há crise, mas a candidatura para a organização do Mundial de Futebol por Portugal e Espanha lá vai avançando. Quando se trata de futebol, arranjar dinheiro nunca é problema. Já quando se trata, por exemplo, de construir um aeroporto ou uma linha de comboio de alta velocidade o caso muda de figura.

Temos todos que nos começar a preparar para a eventualidade de ter que pagar mais esta factura, sabendo já à partida que, na hora de distribuir, serão sempre os mesmos a ganhar. Gilberto Madíl já veio de dizer que os jogos em Portugal deverão realizar-se em Lisboa e no Porto. Daí que por estas alturas, seja oportunamente levantada a questão sobre o que aconteceu aquando do Euro 2004, antes que se cavem mais tocas onde enterrar o dinheiro.

O Estádio Mário Duarte, em Aveiro, está com algumas dificuldades em manter-se de pé. Literalmente! Devido às dificuldades na manutenção e sustentação do estádio, há quem defenda que o mesmo estádio deva ser demolido. Pergunta-se se alguma vez deveria ter sido construído.

Isto é que vai uma crise!

Now that the summer is officially over and Fall is here in Saskatchewan, I’ve been evaluating my summer reading list. Back in May I had decided that I wanted to get through all of Alexandre Dumas’ Marie Antoinette romances even though I had a ton of reading for school, and a vacation to tend to.

What I actually accomplished was the Marie Antoinette Romances plus a couple others.

The Romances:

Joseph Balsamo

Memoires d’un Medecin (Memoirs of a Physician)

Le Collier de la Reine (The Queen’s Necklace)

Ange Pitou (Taking the Bastille)

La Comtesse de Charny (The Countess of Charny)

Le Chevalier de Maison-Rouge (The Knight of Maison-Rouge)

I also successfully finished:

Le Trois Mousquetaires (The Three Musketeers)

And I am halfway through the sequent Vingt Ans Apres (Twenty Years Later) and hope to find time to finish the final in the series, The Vicomte de Bragelonne.

In all, the Marie Antoinette romances are a fascinating and riveting romp through late 18th century France beginning with the court of Louis XV and the conniving of his favorite Madame DuBarry to the execution of Marie Antoinette. Appearing and disappearing throughout the text is the mysterious Joseph Balsamo (aka Cagliostro, Count de Fenix, Baron Zanoni and a few others) who, as the leader of the Freemasons, successfully brings down the French monarchy in a mere 20 years.

In all, I would have thought I’d be horribly exhausted with reading by now considering my PhD comps have be averaging a book a day, but it’s nice to sit down at Starbucks and just read for pleasure when I get a chance.

Projet issu de la collaboration entre la maison parisienne Hermès et Wally, designer-constructeur de yacht italien qui a abouti sur la création de W.h.y: Wally Hermès Yachts, ce concept de bateau à la forme triangulaire est une nouvelle manière d’aborder la croisière dans une ambiance extrêmement raffinnée .
Ce luxueux yacht de 58 mètres de long et 38 mètres de large, est équipé de 900 m2 de panneaux thermovoltaïque réduisant ainsi considérablement sa consomation d’énergie.

“…aujourd’hui, 90 % du marché est constitué de bateaux à moteur. Notre objectif est de réduire la consommation de carburant de 20 à 30 % par an et par navire pour la propulsion et de 40 à 50 % pour la génération électrique à bord. “
Luca Bassani Antivari, président de Wally.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vt6Ok3pVy1E

http://www.why-yachts.com/

Tradari, razboaie religioase, intrigi politice, comploturi, ambitii, destine contradictorii, iubiri, si sentimente exacerbate, fac ca, in 1578, Franta sa fie un regat in deriva. Contele de Monsoreau, un apropiat al monarhului, se indragosteste de tanara domnisoara Diane de Meridor. Desi aceasta nu-i impartaseste sentimentele, el obtine, de la tatal fetei, prin insalaciune, acceptul casatoriei. Diane se resemeneaza intr-o casnicie fara iub iubire, pana in ziua in care il intalneste pe contele Bussy d’Amboise, un protestant cunoscut, de care se indragosteste. Din acest moment, dragostea ei nu are egal decat in ura impotriva sotului. La randul lor, cei doi barbati se angajeaza intr-o puternica lupta dubla: pentru idei si pentru iubire!

Alexandre Dumas imbogateste sufletele, creierele, inteligenta; el face sa se nasca setea de a citi; sapa in inima umana si apoi insamanteaza. [...] Toate emotiile patetice ale dramei, toate ironiile si toate profunzimile comediei, toate analizele romanului, toate intuitiile istoriei sunt adunate de acest urias si agil arhitect in opera sa surprinzatoare. Nu exista tenebre in scrisul lui, nu exista mister, nimic ascuns, enigmatic, tulburator; nimic din Dante, totul din Voltaire si din Moliere; peste tot doar stralucire, lumina, claritate. Calitatile sunt variate si numeroase. Scriitorului nu i-a lipsit nimic: nici lupta, care reprezinta datoria, nici succesul, care inseamna fericirea. Victor Hugo

Pret:  59,90 lei

Editura Corint

The other day while watching TV, a horrifying commercial came on: an advertisement for Barbie and The Three Musketeers.

I kid you not.

The technicolor world of Barbie just doesn’t mesh with the political intrigue of Dumas’ original work. I’m sure its stock full of girl power and all that jazz, but really? Do you really need to change a work of literature to bend it to Barbie’s ways?

Fortunately, the plot sounds completely different from the book. I wonder how Barbie would tackle Richelieu. In this world, would he wear a florescent pink robe and try to steal all the kittens?

I’m not sure how I stand on the whole “murdering retelling classics for the sake of our children” thing. I grew up watching Wishbone, which I adored, but I see that as a little different. Wishbone kept as faithfully to the stories as a thirty minute kids’ program could (with a talking dog to boot!), but this program really stood for getting kids to read the classics by introducing them in such a way that they were relatable.

View at own discretion. I advise not.

Depois de várias aventuras, umas mais felizes que outras, estou de regresso ao activo para mais uma temporada. Nesse regresso fiquei desapontado por ter perdido a excursão à Azurara… Esta juventude, em altura de eleições, fica com umas ideias extraordinárias.

Although I’m unsure of how long this blog will be maintained, I would like to make a point once a week of sharing a number of quotes from those much wiser than myself.  Be warned that some quotes may be common, indulgent and/or pretentious.

“Don’t seek reality, just put an end to opinions.”  –Sheng-ts’an (translated)

“What is concerned here is not the morale of masses, whose attitude is unimportant so long as they are kept steadily at work, but the morale of the party itself.  Even the humblest Party member is expected to be competent, industrious, and even intelligent within narrow limits, but it is also necessary that he should be a credulous and ignorant fantaic whose prevailing moods, are fear, hatred, adulation, and orgiastic triumph.” –George Orwell 1984

“Don’t ever tell anybody anything.  If you do, you start missing everybody.” –J.D. Salinger The Catcher in the Rye

“For to fear death, my friends, is only to think ourselves wise without really being wise, for it is to think that we know what we do not know.  For no one knows whether death may not be the greatest good that can happen to man.  But men fear it as if they knew quite well that it was the greatest of evils.  And what is this but shameful ignorance of thinking that we know what we do not know?” — Plato The Republic

“A fool takes no pleasure in understanding, but only in expressing his opinion.” –Proverbs 18:2 (ironic)

“Nothing makes time pass more quickly or more shortens a journey than a thought which absorbs in itself all the faculties of the organization of him who thinks.  External existence then resembles a sleep of which this thought is the dream.  By its influence, time has no longer measure, space has no longer distance.  We depart from one place, and arrive at another, that is all.  Of the interval passed, nothing remains in the memory but a vague mist in which thousand confused images of trees, mountains, and landscapes are lost.” –Alexander Dumas, Three Musketeers

St.Simon & St.Jude Roman Catholic Cemetery

Grande Anse, New Brunswick, Canada

Dominique THERIAULT

13 June 1933

Philomene Dumas

6 January 1942

THERIAULT

In memoriam

Dominique Theriault

Died 12 June 1933

at the age of 75

R.I.P.

His wife

Philomene Dumas

died 6 January 1942

at the age of 84

Related Posts:

St.Simon & St.Jude Cemetery – Grande Anse, New Brunswick

Cemeteries

Theriaults – Acadians from Poitou, France

Tombstone Tuesdays