A story from Villa Amalia by Pascal Quignard

December 8, 2016
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The photo

 

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Written on the back of the photo

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Inscription in front of book

The copy of ‘Villa Amalia’ I got second-hand from Amazon had this photo in it and this inscription in the front.

So what does the inscription say?  It looks like: J’adore cette photo première d’un bonheur retrouvé. 26 janvier 2013 But surely the première should be in front of the photo–unless it’s in apposition, in which case there’s a comma missing?

The birthday boy seems to be well over 30 if you count the candles on the cake, so bonheur may have been missing for some time…

If it’s really première then [she] has formed the p differently there and in photo. If you look at janvier [her] v extends below the line, which increases the number of possibilities for the suspect word. [She] and [her] are my supposition from j’adore and an inscription in the front of the book. Restoring the omissions there gives us La souffrance [,l’amour, la musique, la faim] avai[en]t fait d’elle une femme intense–which looks like a case of adapting the sentence to refer to oneself.

There are no shes in the photo, which would be strange for a family gathering, so this she might have taken the picture.  Let”s call her Ann Hidden, since she’s behind the camera.  The man on the left of the picture seems to have the same shaped face as the candle-blower-out, which lends credence to the family gathering idea.

My conclusion for the time being is that it’s not a birthday party–there aren’t enough people–but a family celebration of the lad overcoming some mishap and the candles (say) represent the number of [periods] he was in hospital/prison/rehab/married to that woman, though he looks a bit young for some of those. If it was hospital/rehab, that would explain why he is warmly dressed while the bloke behind him is in shirtsleeves.

It’s much easier to leave out punctuation–note that there’s no full stop at the end of the sentence–than put an adjective in the wrong place, so première is a noun in apposition to photo, with some meaning like Première épreuve tirée pour la correction. ‘Galley-proof of happiness’ is quite good really.

Then  the inscription La souffrance…avait fait d’elle une femme intense would fit in well with [Ann Hidden’s] [son] returning from [rehab] [or from death’s door].

Were it not that I have bad dreams…

December 1, 2016

sleep

A middle-aged bureaucrat has collected data on his sleep pattern for 29 weeks or so. He works 4 days a week (not Wednesdays) and wants to know whether these data should impel him towards early retirement.  We can see from the above that the prospect of going back to work on Monday and Thursday causes some lack of sleep.

Table of sleep data

  Mon Tue Wed Thu Fri Sat Sun
Mean 06:25 07:10 05:12 06:52 07:40 07:07 05:00
N 29 29 29 29 29 28 28
Min 01:00 03:00 02:00 04:00 05:00 05:00 00:00
Max 08:30 09:00 07:30 09:00 10:00 12:00 07:00
Q1 06:00 06:30 05:00 06:00 06:30 06:52 04:30
Q2 06:30 07:30 05:30 07:00 07:30 07:15 05:45
Q3 07:30 08:00 06:00 07:30 08:00 08:07 06:30
StDev 01:27 01:29 01:19 01:07 01:07 01:26 01:35

The overall mean is 06:29, while results here indicate an average of 06:50 for those aged 40-55.  The difference is hardly large, but in the other hand the justified expectation of sleeping poorly tw0 nights a week is not something one would wish to continue indefinitely.

We presume that there are essentially two possible explanations for the smaller amount of sleep on Sunday and Tuesday nights:  apprehension and having to get up early/change in routine.  If it was purely a case of the latter, we would expect the effect to be greater on a Sunday night since there are two days of changed routine to account for as against one on a Wednesday night.  But in fact there is no significant difference between the means for Wednesday and Sunday, so we presume apprehension is playing a role here.

Our preliminary recommendation would be for the client to collect the same data for a substantial period of leave so as to establish how far the results above deviate from the natural pattern.

 

 

 

 

Not enemies, not judges, not so neat…

November 7, 2016

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Meanwhile, the exhibit above has been brought to our attention.

Well, no.

It says ‘Traitors to the people, expelled from the German national community.’

The men are leaders of the German Social-Democratic Party.

Mit der Dummheit kämpfen Götter selbst vergebens.

Some pictures of Newcastle upon Tyne in the rain

November 5, 2016

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That’s a street running towards Bigg Market…

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The River Tyne…

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Now that’s not a bad photo

The Suppliant Women, Northern Stage Newcastle, 04 November

November 5, 2016

****

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Picture from Wear Valley Advertiser–don’t blame me if it’s from another location

 

You have to admire the sheer audacity of this production, and the attempt to make Greek drama the central event in the life of the city, the way it used to be.

As everyone knows, the basis of the story is that the 50 daughters of Danaos have fled to Argos from Egypt to claim sanctuary in their ancestral homeland (though they look foreign–it’s complicated) and avoid marriage with the 50 sons of Aiguptos, their cousins.

At the beginning, Omar Ebrahim introduced the play and a local dignitary in charge of Arts and Education who thanked the audience for providing 50% of the funding, the taxpayer for 40%, private donors for 5% before suggesting that the remaining 5% could be made up from bar takings.

The standout feature of the evening was of course the chorus of local women (well, lasses more like) who sang beautifully and danced effectively–when the chorus sang in parts accompanied by drum and aulos that really was something alien and beautiful.  We did also get to enjoy Aeschylus as a religious thinker, coming to the idea of a supreme god and the doctrine of grace without benefit of revelations in the Judaean or Arabian desert.  And as a convinced proponent of democracy–Pelasgos although king refers the decision as to what to do about the Danaids to the citizens of Argos, and  they decide, well,…

What didn’t work so well for me was the way that towards the end the adaptor David Greig after holding out valiantly could no longer resist falling into modern feminist and human-rights attitudes–Aeschylus is more complicated than that, and so is our life.  The whole point of Greek tragedy is to abstract and distance and transcend the categories of thinking they normally used (never mind us). But a production that realises the main thing is the ideas, not some sordid family misfortune, and the main way of conveying it is  the chorus is very very close to the right path.

And what daring, what audacity, what vision…

Daily Mail: Enemies of the People

November 5, 2016

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She’s quite right of course–‘Enemies of the Public’ in English is either calqued from Russian or a translation of Ibsen’s En folkefiendeThere is ‘public enemy’ in English but that means something rather different. In French Revolutionary parlance,  ennemi du peuple is (or was) possible, but rather less likely than ennemi public.  I  don’t even know what народный враг would mean in Russian, since народный is strictly positive in its connotations…

Агенства по трудоустойству, работающие в Лондоне, и другие информации

November 2, 2016

Агенства общего профиля

Jobs in London | London Jobs & Vacancies – reed.co.uk

http://www.adecco.co.uk/

http://www.londonjobs.co.uk/

Агенства, прделагающие места для носителей иностранных языков

https://www.french-selection.co.uk/vacancies.php

http://www.toplanguagejobs.co.uk/multilingual-jobs

http://www.multilingualvacancies.com/

…русского языка

http://www.privilegecareers.com/

http://redsquareinternational.co.uk/

Сайти, соединяющие предложения разных агенств

http://company.monster.co.uk/?intcid=swoop_TopNav_Company_Profiles

https://www.adzuna.co.uk/

http://www.indeed.co.uk/

 

I, Daniel Blake, Greenwich Picturehouse 29 October

October 29, 2016

***

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Grey Street in the rain

This film is about a 59-year-old carpenter who suffers a heart attack and so is no longer able to work.  He is judged not sufficiently incapacitated to receive Disability Allowance, so has to go through the demeaning pretence of looking f0r non-existent jobs.  He makes friends with a young single mother who has been sent a long way from London because it is cheaper than housing her family there and who has her benefits sanctioned because she got on the wrong bus in a strange town and arrived late for an interview.

I have to admit that I did cry during the film, though not as much as the two women sitting next to me, and it wasn’t all because of the I want to go home feeling.  They got the Newcastle accent right, and also the way people speak to each other, which is a different thing.  When the dialogue and actions were allowed to proceed from the characters and their actions it was actually very moving.  There were some shots of Newcastle in the rain, YESS!!

The essay that Loach was determined to write was probably quite correct at a factual level, but it didn’t really mesh with these characters.  In particular, what Daniel needed was clearly some advocacy from the CAB, a Welfare Rights group, or even Age UK.  Now he might not have known that, but after spending two years in a homeless hostel in London Katie certainly would have.  I approve of making ordinary people the central figures of films and plays, but depriving them of agency isn’t the way to do it.  And I was irritated that St Daniel had to be burdened with demonstrating appropriate attitudes to black people, gays and people with mental illness.  Then I start asking myself what kind of a joiner he had been.  If he was employed, he should have been eligible for sick pay.  If he was self-employed, it’s hard to see how he could have managed to remain totally incapable in the face of modern technology.

Did he call the gay black training-shoe entrepreneur the ‘tycoon of Byker’ or similar?  That didn’t look like Byker to me…But the Evening Chronicle has helpfully published a map of the locations.

It is to the credit of director Ken Loach and scriptwriter Paul Laverty that havingstupidly decided to include a scene of archetypal Dostoevskian degradation they clearly had no idea what they were talking about–there are some things you just have to be a bad man to get right.

Antigone/Lysistrata, Cambridge Arts Theatre 13 October

October 14, 2016

**/****

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Set for Antigone (picture acquired from Twitter)

So this year’s Cambridge Greek Play (in Ancient Greek, with surtitles) was a double-bill of Antigone and LysistrataAntigone is these days as close to being unsinkable as a Greek play can be, while productions very often make a mess of Lysistrata by taking it literally–seriously, even.

Things turned out rather differently this time round.  Antigone displayed a fine collection  of the clichés that even the London stage has finally managed to just about rid itself of:  fences, barbed wire, battledress, battery-powered torches, submachine guns, men in suits…I closed my eyes and endured.  To be fair, it got better as the thing went on and they performers relied more on their native wits.  And there was a standout performance from counter-tenor Jack Hawkins as Teiresias with very beautiful counter-tenorial music too.  But why (for instance) did Antigone dart anxiously upstage and downstage when she was supposed to be processing towards her bridal tomb?

I would have given up and gone home at half-time but I didn’t want to disturb the couple of old dears who had me wedged in.  The young woman of East Asian heritage sitting on the other side of me asked whether this was it–I replied that there was another play to come, a comedy indeed.

Then we had Lysistrata done as a musical comedy, and very funny it was too.  This time, we had the standout performer (Natasha Cutler-a real musical comedy princess) in the title role, and that helped a lot of course.

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ἀφεκτέα τοίνυν ἐστὶν ἡμῖν τοῦ πέους. (=it is necessary then for us to give up cock).

The audience also got to sing along with οὐδεὶς οὔτε μοιχὸς οὔτ᾽ ἀνήρ (line 212=no-one, neither lover nor husband), while the surtitles promised a Cambridge Scholarship in Classics for an explanation of the lion-on-a-cheesegrater position. (Line  231 οὐ στήσομαι λέαιν᾽ ἐπὶ τυροκνήστιδος = I won’t crouch down like the lioness on a cheesegrater. You’d better ask Simon Goldhill about that gender reassignment.)

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No.  Not like that.  Not at all like that.  (Picture from Twitter.)

The pedant could of course cavil–once Boris Johnson and Donald Trump had appeared on stage they should have been properly savaged, especially in respect of diminutive and deformed genitalia, while a headless pig looking for David Cameron would have been a good Aristophanic joke. The famously…well, tedious…ball-of-wool metaphor was interpreted via interpretive dance, when one thing it certainly recommends is favourable treatment of useful foreigners–surely an opportunity for further kicking of the Brexit-Trump gang. You can also ask whether a production largely attended by pupils of fee-paying schools could ever permit itself proper Aristophanic obscenity…

Hamlet, Bread and Roses 29 September

September 30, 2016

****

 

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Hamlets, father and son

 

I enjoyed my trip to Clapham to see a sensibly slimmed-down version of Hamlet that also included a song from Cymbeline interpolated.  In true Shakespearean style we had an all-male company entering and exiting by the door of an upstairs bar to play on a stage erected at one end of the room; a strategically-placed curtain led me to expect Polonius to be stabbed through it, but that was not to be.

I thought that Benjamin Way’s mercurial and mood-shifting (but not mad) Hamlet was very good, and I also enjoyed the Queen Gertrude of Lee Peck.  The production kept the action moving and was as promised crystal-clear. At times I thought we might be going in a different direction with Hamlet just Hamlet and his rages and reveries and the rest orbiting distantly around him; but that was not to be either.

During the interval Claudius was anxiously checking his smartphone and behind me the young people were keen to see who had got whom on Tinder and Plenty of Fish; but maybe these were not connected.

When I was a young, I was tormented by the characters’ names clearly not being Danish–apart from Gertrude. Last night, that was still worrying me-the back of the Signet edition says that the story comes from one Saxo Grammaticus who had Feng instead of Claudius, Gerutha for Gertrude and no names for the rest.   It also occurred to me for the first time that if you took away the poetry [laughs bitterly], the story with its rain, death, cold, death, infidelity, death, treachery, poison, death, muddy graves, regrettable gravedigger jokes, rats, cold wet death and so on could be typically Danish.   But the willow grows aslant a brook is surely nowhere else but Warwickshire…

See here for a video clip from a performance in Norway.