french fried
I haven't read this much French since that class I took at UPenn during senior year when I busted out Simone de Beauvoir's "Memoirs d'une jeune fille rangee" in one night. I read one hundred pages of French today. Another 150 approximately to go until this book is over. Oy. Talk about mental gymnastics. I needed to stay home today and concentrating on French definitely kept me at my desk all day. Sometimes it's good to play graduate student and stay in. I didn't realize I had retained such a mastery of French. Nice to jog one's memory now and again. Even so, I think I need to take a break before plunging back into the book. Perhaps a little physical exercise as a contrast to the mental exercise. Some yoga while watching "When Harry Met Sally?" One can't be virtuous all day long.
posted by lequincampe at 9:25 PM
3 Comments:
I remember in highschool when they made us read Ionesco. Page after page of absurdist hijinks in a language we were still struggling with - cruel.
That is cruel. Did I mention this book involves a blind lesbian who is very bitter and in love with her friend who is trying to deal with gaps in her memory due to (what she has yet to realize is) childhood abuse and may or may not have a double identity? Did I mention this book is a French translation of an Italian novel?
Mon Dieu!
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