BLOG - 4 - SYNDROMES AND CELESTIAL SENSATIONS

Two great French writers have had the privilege of diseases named after them and it is possible that there may be other ‘grands ecrivains’ out there queuing up for this dubious honour.

Alfred de Musset, who was an early lover of George Sand, had what became known as de Musset’s Syndrome: a continual bobbing of the head due to a deficient aortic heart valve. He died of heart failure in his sleep at the age of 37. He wrote plays, poetry, novels and was the English translator of, de Quincey’s: “Confessions of an Opium Eater." But his most beautiful and most famous oeuvre was: “Confession D’un Enfant du Siecle” (Confessions of a Child of the Century) He wrote about love, passion, loss of faith and honour. Reading this work one wonders whether the great first person narratives that came later, such as Knut Hamsun’s ‘Hunger’ and Italo Svevo’s ‘Confessions of Zeno’ and ‘A Life’ were in anyway influenced by de Musset. In advising readers to read “Confessions of a Child…’ one should be aware that you have to led slide over you the somewhat overheated and overblown rhetoric that was in lesser and grander degrees the flavour of the epoch and a rather dull general discourse on political events at the beginning of the novel, but once on the hero Octave’s journey, twice hooked into his despair. La crise existentielle in full flow. For the full monty on the overblown rhetoric of the ‘Romantics’ look no further than the composer Liszt’s (quite unreadable)  “Life of Chopin” Today’s lean and mean writing does not give one a headache that one receives from the welter of insincere emotional bombast of some of the Romantics. Have we got something right? Or have we thrown out the baby (emotion) with the bathwater (restraint)?

Stendhal, or to give him his proper name Henri-Marie Beyle experienced on a visit to Florence in 1817 what became know as Stendhal’s Syndrome or Florence Syndrome. That is - faintness, excitability, rapid heartbeat etc. At the Basilica of Santa Croce seeing the Giotto frescoes for the first time he was quite overcome and to use his own words: “I reached the point where one encounters celestial sensations... Everything spoke so vividly to my soul. Ah, if I could only forget. I had palpitations of the heart, what in Berlin they call 'nerves.' Life was drained from me. I walked with the fear of falling.” I particularly like his ‘celestial sensations’. Two other cities have been known to produce strange symptoms: Jerusalem and Paris. Although with these places the symptoms are more - irritability, paranoia and persecution. Not anywhere near as pleasant.

Stendhal’s well known works are of course “Le Rouge et le Noir” and “La Chartreuse de Parme” but I would also strongly recommend what is known in the English translation as “The Green Huntsman” En francais: “Lucien Leuwen”. His realistic portrayal of life in France during the era of “Romanticism” meant that he was not truly appreciated until the 20th Century. But he was nevertheless writing at the same time as de Musset. One could perhaps describe him as a ‘realist idealist’. However, it must be said that when I was in France, talking to people about writers, I did not detect much enthusiasm for Stendhal.

BLOG-2 - INSIGHTS AND IDIOMS IN FRENCH AND ENGLISH

Insights and Idioms in French and English 

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Diverses idées et expressions idiomatiques en Français et Anglais

(L'éléphant n'est certainement pas dans la pièce...) The elephant is definitely not in the room... but in the china shop!

The English say: ‘A bull in a china shop’. The French say: ‘An elephant in a china shop’. (Comme un éléphant dans un magasin de porcelaine). The English bull, is more vivid. An elephant is too slow and static. It does not create the idea of twisting and turning havoc that a bull would wreck. Result: England win.

This expression set me off wondering whether the difference between French and English idiosyncratic idioms give one any special insight into the national and moral characteristics of these countries.

To continue with elephants: more specifically: white elephants. In French this might translate as: (Une etalage de bibelots), a sort of display of unwanted knick-knacks. This does not quite have the English meaning of something valuable but unwanted. Conclusion: the French are not good with elephants.

Then there’s the whole business of cats and dogs in these languages. ‘A cat can look at a King’ translates as: (Un chien regarde bien un eveque). In France, they still look to the Church because the Monarchy lost their heads. This expression also implies that in France a dog is a lowlier animal than a cat. Does this make sense? Are not the beloved pooches (les clebs/cabots) of France very spoilt? And as for their owners... allowing their little darlings to leave behind their riddance’s (crottes de chien). Spoilt Parisian pooches (tous les bébés et pompon cheris) have their own Art Nouveau cemetery. 

Then there’s the raffish (chic) bistro dog, I kid you not (sans blague) with its own seat in a restaurant! So I am surprised, when the country loves dogs so much, why do the poor mutts not get a better press? Think about: ‘Let sleeping dogs lie’. (Il ne faut pas réveiller un chat qui dort). What have we here but another instance of cat favouritism!

‘Cat got your tongue!’ In French: (Donner sa longue au chat). Why you would want to give your tongue to a cat is somewhat puzzling. It means presumably that you can’t think of an answer. Perhaps... (Tu as avalé ta langue?) is the more accurate translation. The English idiom is more brutal: one pictures a rampant moggie (un minou effréné) fur bristling, springing into the face of an open mouthed owner and seizing their tongue. Truly horrifying and X certificate mute making indeed! An easy win for England.

‘Curiosity killed the cat’ translates as: (La curiosité est un vilain default). Does this mean that in France ‘curiosity’ is not dangerous (as in the English) but a bad and immoral fault? A French win as this is a more sophisticated conclusion. (Il y a plus d’une facon d’accommoder un lapin) ‘There’s more than one way to skin a cat’ and that in France one skins bunnies. A win for all cat lovers in France!

In England we say: ‘Ne’er cast a clout ‘till May be out.’ It is somewhat contentious as to what a ‘clout’ means. Usually, people take it to mean an item of clothing but because ‘cast’ has to do with ploughing and the soil, it is possibly an agricultural term. Some believe it to mean: don’t discard any item of clothing until the May Tree blossom is out. Although similar expressions in Spanish are always about discarding clothes. In French: (En avril ne te découvres pas d'un fil, en mai, fais ce qui te plait). ‘In April, don’t get rid of even a vestige of clothing but in May do what you like’. The French saying just shades it with those nice three rhymes at the end. So the French (hardy souls) are a month ahead of us. But I wonder whether the citizens of the chilly Nord-Pas-de-Calais would ere on the side of the safer (‘till May be out) English version. Narrow French win

Now what about a ‘dog-rose’ or the much more beautiful: (une eglantine). But nothing is simple. Is an eglantine rose not also Rosa rubiginosa? or what is called, ‘sweet briar’? And is not sweet briar the equal of ‘eglantine’ in beauty? And what an enchanting scent after: ‘April showers make May flowers’: (D’avril les ondées, font les fleurs de mai) The English is prosaic but the French expression is very beautiful.

Sorry, vegetarians, but I do love the French idiom: (Manger de la vache enragée ). Literally, to eat the meat of the rabid cow but meaning, I think: ‘To live from hand to mouth’ or ‘To have a rough time’.

Now ‘once in a blue moon’ I might get the winner of the Derby or the Arc de Triomphe but in France would I ever be paid out? Because... (Alors, tous les trente-six du mois, je gagnerais réellement le Derby et l'Arc). What on earth does it mean? Is it referring to the fourth new moon in a season which is very unusual so therefore the date the thirty-sixth of the month is impossible or does it have something to do with the French Revolutionary calendar?

‘Grass is always greener on the other side’. You don’t see the negative aspects of this patch of green because... your eyes are not so good these days... the smart little piece of garden furniture is covering a nasty bit of...(crottes de clebs). As is their way, the French are more specific and literal. (L'herbe est toujours plus verte chez le voisin). As is well known there is much enmity between neighbours in France. Result: English idealistic vagueness gives win to French exactitude.

Now those darned cats are back again! What about: (Appeller un chat un chat) ‘To call a spade a spade’. Here the English wins as it is much blunter!

(Acheter chat en poche) ‘To buy a pig in a poke’. Let the buyer beware! Poche is formed from old French ‘poque’. (Avoir d'autres chats à fouetter) means literally: ‘To have other cats to whip’ or idiomatically: ‘To have other fish to fry’. Poor puss. Contact the RSPCA immediately! 

After putting all this together, I feel quite knackered. (Je suis nase-broque!) But no time for ‘my catnap’ (ma petite sieste) as ‘her indoors’ calls. I do not know how the French would translate this, possibly: (ma patronne?)

(Il faut que j’y aille. Le diner est sur la table). Must go. Dinner’s ready. (Alors, mon bébé en sucre! Qu’est-ce qui se mijote, ce soir?) ‘Sweetie! What have you rustled up, tonight?’

‘Cold quiche? Ah well, life’s not a bowl of cherries.’ (la vie n’est pas toujours rose) or the more poetic: (la vie n’est pas un long fleuve tranquille)

ooo

BLOG - F1 - '10 NORTH FREDERICK'

Films That Haunt Me...

I was wondering how many people have seen that incredible 1958 film: ’10 North Frederick’? Alright, it’s pretty standard melodrama fare but redeemed by some wonderful casting and some of the best acting ever seen in a film.

I won’t give any of the story away but the film comes into my memory quite often for certain amazing scenes. Gary Cooper (an actor I usually find somewhat cold) is terrific in his underplaying of a weak and rather pathetic character. His ambitious wife played by Geraldine Fitzgerald is cold hell let loose and yet this same Dublin actress could play soft and sensitive characters as well. What a breadth of talent. Diane Varsi who came to a small amount of fame in Peyton Place and later in Compulsion, is wonderful as the sweet innocent in love with a trumpet player. Her love making scene in a taxi with her boyfriend shocked me. Not only because it was 1958 but because of the sheer passion of their kissing. Like they both meant it! Most films today just shove two stars together and hope they gel - they very seldom do. But this kissing scene is amazing. I was shocked, not because it was overtly sexual, after all, this was the 50’s, but because they meant it!

Suzy Parker always looked wonderful but as Coops secret much younger lover she showed that she can act. But if I’m frank perhaps she is the weak link in this film. Ray Stricklyn as the son is also superb.

As I say, the story is rather ‘soapy’, but the acting… I seem to remember a scene on a staircase where Fitzgerald is tearing into her husband (Cooper) She is so cold and vengeful that you are shouting: ‘Lady M! Why did she not play that great part? Give Bette Davis a run for her money - you bet!

Spencer Tracey was originally cast in the Cooper part but withdrew being very concerned about Parker’s ability as an actress. She had just come from the modelling world and earning $1,000 a week - a very large sum for those days.

'10 North Frederick' is hard to find, but if you do come across it on TV at some ungodly hour or on some boring, rainy, Tuesday afternoon, record it, watch it and treasure it. I saw it about twenty years ago so the gloss of memory may be at work here and I would love to see it again. I’ve tried to find it. But no luck just yet.

Certain films affect me deeply and they are often, I would have to admit, not that good. Another haunting film is ‘Lillith’. I hope to blog about this at some point.

BLOG 1 - LITERARY FICTION

BLOG - 1 (Sept 2013)

I write what is known as 'Literary Fiction'. This rather awkward term denotes at its best: characterisations of greater depth than in other genre fiction which often takes the story along to a mechanistic conclusion, as in detective novels and romantic fiction. Literary fiction, has at its heart a more profound interest in the psychology of its characters; what they are thinking, rather than what they are doing.

After all, in some genre fiction, we are held in artificial suspense and at the mercy of time. Did Jake Smith call the police at 8.35 on that wet Tuesday morning? Did Melissa hide her love for Adam because… Denouements are everything. Of course, this can be entertaining, but it is not for me. Do we really care about these cardboard, cut-out characters? In literary fiction the rigidities of plot are less constricting. The tone is more serious. Did not Rilke once remark that 'everything is serious'. However, literary fiction does not mean, misery fiction. It is there, waiting for readers who like to ponder and wonder at the intricacies of motive and behaviour. As in real life, ambiguity reigns. The reader's hand is not held. With genre fiction, everything is simplified down. The ‘High Noon’ moment of retribution or failure. The writer has often mapped everything out in advance and knows the beginning middle and the end. Characters are there to do the bidding of that nice author’s plot. That does not make it bad but rather, restricted. I never hold the reader’s hand and tell them what to think or feel. Because, really I don’t know! I would like readers to seek my characters out. To not know the way! Their inner life is paramount.

Having said all that, I practically always, especially in my longer fiction, write in the style known as ‘Picaresque’. I can’t help it. Even if I wanted to, I could not restrict my characters to the straightjacket of plot. In a picaresque novel, there is usually a protagonist of dubious character involved in a series of adventures. As in Defoe’s, Moll Flanders and Roxanna. Or Cervantes, Don Quixote. Most of Dickens’ early novels were written in this style. And many modern writers employ the picaresque. At its best, it is a roller-coaster of adventure.

One is swept along from one episode to another. The dead hand of the author is shrugged off. But as Auden perspicaciously wrote in his introduction to George MacDonald’s, adult story 'Lilith' (a wonderfully imaginative example of the picaresque)  the process of going from event to event with the same protagonist brings the danger of

 monotony. The ‘Me!’ is supreme; the unknown next day, the sheer mystery of life drives the character on. Some novels straddle both picaresque and plot. There are many techniques to avoid the howl of: ‘Oh, not again!’ as the battered reader gallops through the exploits and episodes of the hero or heroine without rest or much development of character.

Therein lies the challenge. I will at a later date elaborate on these techniques.

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