Spring artsiness

Apologies, people, for the random post in French. I came across this poem in L'Année Poétique 2007 (Poetic Year 2007), an anthology of francophone contemporary poetry which publisher Seghers is planning on putting together every year. While most of the efforts included in this volume left me sceptical and unimpressed (you wouldn't believe the amount pretentious, unoriginal crap) this one in particular, by poet Jean Pérol, had me reading out loud as I was walking in the street. French speakers, I hope you enjoyed as much as I did.

Thanks to those who sent me messages of support and empathy about the 180-euro fine. Thank you in particular to my Belgian colleague, Brussels-born and bred, now a permanent resident and unconditional lover of London town, for this inflammatory writ:

"J'avais oublié de te dire un truc à propos de la Belgique: la police la plus stupide et incompétente d'Europe. Peuplée de crétins finis, cette police a prouvé sa nullité en se montrant incapable d'arrêter Marc Dutroux malgré tous les indices, condamnant ainsi à mort deux fillettes prisonnières qui auraient pu être sauvées. La même police a laissé quelques années plus tard Dutroux s'échapper d'un fourgon, couvrant encore un peu plus la Belgique de ridicule."

(again, apologies for this rough translation -- "I'd forgotten to tell you one thing about Belgium: Europe's most stupid and incompetent police. Peopled by utter cretins, this police demonstrated its dimwitness by being incapable of arresting Marc Dutroux, in spite of all the evidence, thus sentencing to death two little girls that could have been saved. A few years later, that same police allowed Dutroux to escape from a van, ridiculing Belgium even more.")

On an unrelated note, my favorite Mungbean Muser compiled her favorite photographers in a very, very cool entry. Go on, take a look, you just might learn something.

And now, for some music (it had been a while, hadn't it)... A quick homage to cellist Mstislav Rostropovich, who on March 27th celebrated his 80th birthday:



In The Guardian's piece about him, a hilarious anecdote:

"Once, his younger daughter Olga, who was studying the cello, thought her father had gone out, and settled down to read when she should have been practising. Unfortunately for her, Slava returned unexpectedly. Furious, he picked up her cello, brandished it and started chasing her with it, telling her to stop so that he could kill her (a request that she not unreasonably chose to ignore). Eventually, she ran out of the house, but he kept after her - and goodness knows what would have happened had they not passed Shostakovich, who happened to be walking nearby. He pleaded with Slava to calm down, and order was eventually restored; but I'm sure Olga learned to practise more diligently after that - or at least to lock her door."

Happy Easter, Passover or whatever it is you like to celebrate.