Entry tags:
(...I do like my new peek-a-boo Owen icon. :D)
First of all, sorry for dropping off the face of the earth last weekend! :O It's just that, er, we've had a little problem with the internet. (Just to be, you know, original. We never have problems with computers in general. *facepalm*) It turns out that when, last January, Dad finally got around to transfer our telephone subscription's contract from grampas's name to his, the company reactivated automatically the DSL line - but dad had to explicitly ask again for the same rate we had before.
Which he didn't.
...I never thought I'd be glad we had the "night & weekend" rate - which allows you to navigate as much as you want during the weekend and at night, while falling back to the default rate if you navigate on workdays.
We don't know yet how high the next bill will be, but if we had had the "flat" rate - navigation ad libitum at every time of the day for a fixed price, instead of just at night & on the weekend - it would probably have been three times as high. ;P
See? There's always the good side... ;)
(And one more good side is that I managed to finish my
rs_games submissions (two of them, LAST TIME I sign up for two instead of just one) with a day to spare! :P Well, two, as it turns out. I'll be sure to try and put them to good use. *g* )

So, I bought this book I totally loved. But it's not the one quoted above. (The power of misdirection!) That is an excerpt from another book, one I've first read, oh, probably ten years ago or so. Comme un roman, the original title is.
The one I've actually read just last week is Diario di scuola - Chagrin d'école - still by Daniel Pennac, who I probably would name as my favorite author, if I was forced to pick one. And boy, did I love it. It was the first real book I'd read of his in years - he had published new ones, but they were both screenplays. In which his style and his verve still come out, yes, oh if it does, but... an actual book is a different thing. I love the man so, so much. I love how his utter love for literature shines right through his writing, how devoid it is of arrogance, of conceit. How sincere it is. And how sincere he is also telling of his time in school, as far from stellar as it was. While my experience of school was quite different, there were still so many things, so many feelings I recognized. It did my heart good to read it.
But most of all, that book made me realize how long it had been since I read a book - be it a novel, or an essay, or anything else - in my own language. (Not speaking French, I only know Pennac through the excellent translation by Yasmina Melaouah.*) And I hadn't realized at all how much I missed it. It's not that I stopped reading altogether, because I didn't, but almost all that passed under my eyes these past few years has been in English - be it fanfictions or actual (real?) novels. Now don't get me wrong, I'm not really complaining - I actually love English, and I love reading in it - and I wouldn't be surprised if part of that love wasn't (still) due to the simple fact that I can. The pleasure of recognizing the signs on the pages, the meaning behind the words, behind the expressions, getting the jokes. Almost like learning to read for the first time, all over again. The "joy of the alchemist", paraphrasing Pennac once more.
That's good, and I like it, but reading in Italian is different. English is a language I understand, a language I can use, a language I can think with - but Italian is the language I feel with. I'm not sure I can quite explain that, but - hearing the same thing expressed in English or in Italian is not the same, and not just because of the different ways the two might handle a same concept. Italian is more instinctive. It reaches deeper. And you know the weirdest thing of all? I only realized it for the first time years ago, when I set down to do a translation of Minx's Door to the River, and I was rereading the end product a final time. I was so surprised that, well, I still talk about it now. ;P
...tl;dr, wasn't it. ^^; And be thankful I didn't end up talking about the differences between English and Italian (inspired by a friend's remark about how the English translation isn't so effective instead), or doing an apology of movie dubbing (I still much prefer the original, if I understand it, with the aid of subtitles if I need them, but I'm not really so dead set against dubbing, not if done well. Most attacks to dubbing I've seen - but I haven't looked too hard - seem to be based off the fact that dubbers are seen as people who just read a script, instead of actual actors. Sometimes I don't doubt that is the case, but I wouldn't call those dubbers. I would call them bad dubbers. There's a difference. ;D) (Oh! I'm not saying I don't like subtitles! I do, and I tend to prefer them over dubbing, actually. But that doesn't mean that dubbing is The Ev0l or entirely devoid of plus sides, either. :D ), so BE GLAD. ;)
O_o WOAH has this gotten long! And, er, I'm not really rereading it. I don't have the time. ^^; Hope it wasn't too hideous... *COUGH*
Love you all! Bye! :D
Which he didn't.
...I never thought I'd be glad we had the "night & weekend" rate - which allows you to navigate as much as you want during the weekend and at night, while falling back to the default rate if you navigate on workdays.
We don't know yet how high the next bill will be, but if we had had the "flat" rate - navigation ad libitum at every time of the day for a fixed price, instead of just at night & on the weekend - it would probably have been three times as high. ;P
See? There's always the good side... ;)
(And one more good side is that I managed to finish my
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24"You will never get a boy who, at night, is right in the middle of an engaging story, you will never get him to understand, witha demonstration limited just to the boy himself, that he has to stop reading and go to sleep." It's Kafka writing this in his diary, the little Franz, whose dad would much have preferred seeing him spend all his life's nights doing sums.
So, I bought this book I totally loved. But it's not the one quoted above. (The power of misdirection!) That is an excerpt from another book, one I've first read, oh, probably ten years ago or so. Comme un roman, the original title is.
The one I've actually read just last week is Diario di scuola - Chagrin d'école - still by Daniel Pennac, who I probably would name as my favorite author, if I was forced to pick one. And boy, did I love it. It was the first real book I'd read of his in years - he had published new ones, but they were both screenplays. In which his style and his verve still come out, yes, oh if it does, but... an actual book is a different thing. I love the man so, so much. I love how his utter love for literature shines right through his writing, how devoid it is of arrogance, of conceit. How sincere it is. And how sincere he is also telling of his time in school, as far from stellar as it was. While my experience of school was quite different, there were still so many things, so many feelings I recognized. It did my heart good to read it.
But most of all, that book made me realize how long it had been since I read a book - be it a novel, or an essay, or anything else - in my own language. (Not speaking French, I only know Pennac through the excellent translation by Yasmina Melaouah.*) And I hadn't realized at all how much I missed it. It's not that I stopped reading altogether, because I didn't, but almost all that passed under my eyes these past few years has been in English - be it fanfictions or actual (real?) novels. Now don't get me wrong, I'm not really complaining - I actually love English, and I love reading in it - and I wouldn't be surprised if part of that love wasn't (still) due to the simple fact that I can. The pleasure of recognizing the signs on the pages, the meaning behind the words, behind the expressions, getting the jokes. Almost like learning to read for the first time, all over again. The "joy of the alchemist", paraphrasing Pennac once more.
That's good, and I like it, but reading in Italian is different. English is a language I understand, a language I can use, a language I can think with - but Italian is the language I feel with. I'm not sure I can quite explain that, but - hearing the same thing expressed in English or in Italian is not the same, and not just because of the different ways the two might handle a same concept. Italian is more instinctive. It reaches deeper. And you know the weirdest thing of all? I only realized it for the first time years ago, when I set down to do a translation of Minx's Door to the River, and I was rereading the end product a final time. I was so surprised that, well, I still talk about it now. ;P
...tl;dr, wasn't it. ^^; And be thankful I didn't end up talking about the differences between English and Italian (inspired by a friend's remark about how the English translation isn't so effective instead), or doing an apology of movie dubbing (I still much prefer the original, if I understand it, with the aid of subtitles if I need them, but I'm not really so dead set against dubbing, not if done well. Most attacks to dubbing I've seen - but I haven't looked too hard - seem to be based off the fact that dubbers are seen as people who just read a script, instead of actual actors. Sometimes I don't doubt that is the case, but I wouldn't call those dubbers. I would call them bad dubbers. There's a difference. ;D) (Oh! I'm not saying I don't like subtitles! I do, and I tend to prefer them over dubbing, actually. But that doesn't mean that dubbing is The Ev0l or entirely devoid of plus sides, either. :D ), so BE GLAD. ;)
O_o WOAH has this gotten long! And, er, I'm not really rereading it. I don't have the time. ^^; Hope it wasn't too hideous... *COUGH*
Love you all! Bye! :D
no subject
Aw! So much more kudos to you for knowing it so well. :O See? See? You're brilliant! I was right! ♥
Hahahahaha yes XD I remember one of the first things the teacher said was that English people would use "you" even when talking to the Queen ;D (We've got levels of formality too - but we're really just got the two. ;P Or maybe three... but definitely not more than that. *g*)
no subject
I know nothing well! I just have a tendancy to remember the random things that aren't very useful in the long run, and then bring them up in conversation ALL THE TIME to the confusion of many. XDDD
Japanese has FUCKED UP LEVELS OF FORMALITY. I suppose English could have more formal ways of speaking, but it's not really a general thing as more as it is case-specific. (I wonder if Italian is similar to French in terms of formality? I need to learn more langauges!!)