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Toku à la Maison de la culture du Japon

Vaugment cool et tranquille!

Julien-James Vachon's avatarDirect-Actu.fr le blogzine de la culture pop et alternative

Il y a quelques jours, l’artiste Japonais Toku était à Paris pour un concert très intimiste avec le public français. Il a commencé la soirée par quelques mots en français, puis s’est lancé en anglais en s’excusant de ne pas être très bon francophone.
Les reviews de concert ne sont pas vraiment notre spécialité, mais nous avons apprécié ce moment particulier : dans une salle où tous les spectateurs fermaient les yeux et savouraient chacune des notes qui s’envolaient dans l’espace.

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Covers from the Liberation Collection

These look great- most interesting.

europeancollections's avatarLanguages across Borders

The Liberation Collection consists of over 3000 books published in French between 1944 and 1946. They all share a common subject – the Second World War – and reflect the interest of the collector for book history (quality paper, limited editions, signed copies, etc.); this aside, they differ widely from each other in the way they treat the subject, what they talk about (or don’t talk about), their format, pictorial content, audience, tone and genre. One way to give an insight into the variety of the collection is through its most striking book covers, most of them having been photographed for our thumbnail project. Here is a random sample taken from books catalogued in 2019:

Fiction

Fiction represents nearly one sixth of the collection. Below are a spy novel, an adventure tale about the life of a fighter pilot and a theatre play about the army draft in France.

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Poetry & Ideas, Text and Images, edited and drawn by Raffaella Torresan

Some interesting lines here.

Lisa Hill's avatarANZ LitLovers LitBlog

Sometimes, it’s just a case of being in the right place at the right time…

The Spouse and I went to a book launch today at the Victorian Artists’ Society in East Melbourne.  The book is called Pictures and Prose, Existentialists and Atheists Speak, and the reason we were interested in this somewhat esoteric publication was because The Spouse is included in it.  As I’m sure readers have gathered by now, he is a man of many interests and from time to time he has given a talk at the Existentialists’ Society (even though he isn’t one of them).  And he was giving a talk there when Melbourne painter, printmaker and photographer Raffaella Torresan was there sketching the presenters and that is why he is in the book which is a collection of talks given at the society.

His talk was titled ‘Skepticism, Science and Scientism, and I don’t…

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Olivia Henry, 2 extraits à découvrir

Sounds sweet!!

Julien-James Vachon's avatarDirect-Actu.fr le blogzine de la culture pop et alternative

«Dans les moments où j’ai eu du mal à trouver l’acceptation en moi-même, je me suis appuyé dans le passé sur l’amour et la validation d’une autre personne pour combler ce vide. Ce genre de besoin est insoutenable, mais humain. Sa douleur, sa tristesse, son désir – un besoin de validation de la valeur. C’est de ce sentiment que dérive cette chanson.»

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Again on business 😙

Lovely and superb sketches!!

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Les Yeux Noirs- Élisabeth Anaïs

Avec Pomplamoose https://fr.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pomplamoose

Dans tes grands yeux noirs
Je me suis perdu
J’attends un regard
Le coeur suspendu
Je t’aime tellement fort
Toi qui me fais si peur
Est ce un mauvais sort
Ou la mauvaise heure
Et autour de nous
Chantent les tziganes
Tout le monde s’en fout
S’enivre au champagne
Dans tes beaux yeux noirs
Je sombre, mon amour
Et mon désespoir
A leur chant est sourd
Je perds la raison
A chercher tes bras
Brûlant de passion
Viens, embrasse moi
De tes grands yeux noirs,
L’étrange lumière
A nimbé le soir
De tous les mystères
C’est toi que je veux
Je sais que j’ai tort
Je suis malheureux
De t’aimer si fort…

tziganes=Hungarian Gypsy (cf Zigeuner auf Deutsch)

A nimbé le soir= shrouded the evening

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Buried for Pleasure, by Edmund Crispin

Edmund Crispin is of course, a nom de plume. Philip Larkin has written an early poem to the fellow. His books are excellent, relaxing reads but occasionally spoilt by a touch of xenophobia.

Itsonlychemo's avatarIt's only chemo

Buried for Pleasure is a pastoral murder mystery, with elements of literary criticism, political satire and a good old-fashioned love story to boot. This book must have been part of the inspiration for the TV genre of murders in the village. The ending ties up neatly and predictably for a pastoral story, and if you are not overly worried about the characterisation of consciousness it is wonderful.

The solution is obvious about a third of the way in, but you cannot be sure exactly and there is the vexing question of how it was done. And the murder is committed (and hence the real mystery only kicks in) after it’s obvious who the murderer is.

Crispin gives us the best of both: a plotting ability that squares up to the Golden Age of mystery novels and a prose style derived from Waugh, Wodehouse, Forster. He is most similar to Michael…

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Brussels-Vienna night train returns as Europe eyes flying alternatives

A useful link!

Julian Worker's avatarJulian Worker - Journeys

Revival of Austrian overnight network comes as Sweden considers service from Malmö to other continental cities

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Literature Poetry

Rimbaud on “Ophelia”

Jean-Nicolas-Arthur Rimbaud was born in Charleville in northeastern France on October 20, 1854, the second son of an army captain, Frédéric Rimbaud, and Marie-Cathérine-Vitalie Rimbaud, née Cuif. He had an older brother, Frédéric, born in 1853, and two younger sisters: Vitalie, born in 1858, and Isabelle, born in 1860.

Here is a translation of the first and second section of his poem, Ophelia. It rather reminds me of some parts of Alice Oswald’s poetry:-

I

On the calm black water where the stars are sleeping
White Ophelia floats like a great lily ;
Floats very slowly, lying in her long veils…
– In the far-off woods you can hear them sound the mort.

For more than a thousand years sad Ophelia
Has passed, a white phantom, down the long black river.
For more than a thousand years her sweet madness
Has murmured its ballad to the evening breeze.

The wind kisses her breasts and unfolds in a wreath
Her great veils rising and falling with the waters ;
The shivering willows weep on her shoulder,
The rushes lean over her wide, dreaming brow.

The ruffled water-lilies are sighing around her ;
At times she rouses, in a slumbering alder,
Some nest from which escapes a small rustle of wings ;
– A mysterious anthem falls from the golden stars.

II

O pale Ophelia ! beautiful as snow !
Yes child, you died, carried off by a river !
– It was the winds descending from the great mountains of Norway
That spoke to you in low voices of better freedom.

It was a breath of wind, that, twisting your great hair,
Brought strange rumors to your dreaming mind ;
It was your heart listening to the song of Nature
In the groans of the tree and the sighs of the nights ;

It was the voice of mad seas, the great roar,
That shattered your child’s heart, too human and too soft ;
It was a handsome pale knight, a poor madman
Who one April morning sate mute at your knees !

Heaven ! Love ! Freedom ! What a dream, oh poor crazed Girl !
You melted to him as snow does to a fire ;
Your great visions strangled your words
– And fearful Infinity terrified your blue eye !

 

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Political GDB

I think the stupidity of Brexit and it’s aftermath has left me with a sort of “gueule de bois”. Yesterday’s bêtise was nasty Dulwich boyo, Farage on television and radio- vindictive and seemingly energised.

La gueule de bois ou GDB est une sensation inconfortable qui se manifeste à la suite d’une consommation excessive de boisson alcoolisée. Elle apparaît 6 à 8 heures après la consommation d’alcool, lorsque l’alcoolémie diminue, et elle atteint un maximum lorsque l’alcoolémie redevient nulle.

Now this phrase came out of the currently available Paris Match. There in relation to the worker’s cafe, la Rotande, which seems to be closing in historic Montraparnasse . The magazine now seems more expensive as the pound sinks.It is now three quid!

There is in Paris Match some interesting material on the rise of the extreme right in Italy. So, rather ironically, it would seem that despite first appearances, this creeping authoritarian populism is a widespread European phenomenon. The international element of traditional and democratic socialism somewhat muted.