Reaux, Valery, Sade

Since my last post, I've read an issue of The New Yorker, The Economist, The New Scientist, and two issues of Eclectic Reading and The National Enquirer.

I've also read the complete works of Sade -- astounding how repetitious that gets. I also read Historiettes by Tallemand de Reaux: it was like the memoirs of Saint-Simon, except it was all anecdotes that were salacious or funny. I also read Paul Valery's notebooks.

Bernanos

Since my last post, I've read Hello Canada, two issues of GQ, The National Enquirer, The New Scientist, the Utne Reader, and Eclectic Reading. I also spent the day reading the essays of George Bernanos in the are of politics. I admired the style of his writing, fulsome and elegant, but not the content, which is very dated. He felt strong about war and France, of course, I mean, he died in 1949. I couldn't get much enthusiasm up for the next volume of Pleiade yesterday, but I am more motivated now...

Casanova, Andersen

Since my last post, I've read an issue of Eclectic Reading, an issue of Life and Style, an issue of Vogue, and an issue of Cook's Illustrated.

I finished the three volumes of Casanova's memoirs. It seems to me that he fell in love collectively with women. He is discrete as to the actual sex, except for remembering the place and the length of time they had -- from 1/2 an hour to 4, in most cases -- and it's really all about the flirting that got him to sex in the first place. The memoirs are surprisingly charming, but what a frivolous life, however famous he was for it! After that, I also read a collection of Italian Renaissance short stories. They were split between the moralistic and the bawdy or funny, but there were lots of both. Once can see the influence of the Decameron. I must be on 5 000 pages of what was once considered risque or erotic, and much as I hate to say it, I'm getting bored.

I am now reading the works of Hans Christian Andersen, about 175 children's stories, of which the most famous are The Princess and The Pea, and The Little Match Girl. I am also reading his autobiography, which is revealing of his writing process.

Bataille, Casanova

Since my last post I've read an issue of Hello Canada, an issue of Vanity Fair, an issue of The Economist, three issues of I, two issues of The New Scientist, an issue of The Globe, an issue of The National Enquirer, and two issues of Eclectic Reading.

I also read the novels and stories of George Bataille, famous for writing erotic stories in France. This is still La Pleiade, and I have to tell you, to him erotic means dirty. I mean literally, the characters are forever slathered in mud, for example. In a few spots, the writing is extraordinary, but for the most part I yawned, disappointed, through it.

I have also started the memoirs of Casanova. Yes, written by him, in French, at the end of his life. The introductory essay refers to his 122 conquests. Someone counted? Anyway, they are so far quite charming. What an adventurous unusual life, however crabby he was at the end of it.

Sade, Voragine

Since my last post, I've read two issues of Eclectic Reading, an issue of The New Scientist, an issue of The Globe, The National Enquirer, and an issue of People.

I've also read the first volume of the works of Sade. Yes, as in Marquis de. It's in La Pleiade and I can only say that 120 jours de Sodom et Gommorhe are a blueprint for any pornographer. The distinguished collection actually started with a long essay explaining why he deserved inclusion in the series. Well, he started pornography like Jane Austen started Harlequin romances. I had read some of his novels, and they are tame if titillating compared to that. I've also read La legende doree by Jean de Voragine. It's a martyrology with jewels falling from the skies and assorted other miraculous occurrences. It was, as you might imagine, a contrast. The saint and the sinner.

Greek and Roman Novels of Antiquity

Since my last post,I've read two issues of Eclectic Reading and two issues The New Scientist.

More importantly I've been delighted to continue reading in La Bibliotheque de la Pleiade, in the final push about about 50 books before I'm left with just the playwrights. This week, I finished reading the great Tao writings. I had read the Ghita, the Koran, the Bible, but not fully in Tao. It was very revealing to read. I also read a collection of Greek and Latin novels from Antiquity, also about which I knew nothing. I had read Ovid and Homer and some history, but not this. The introductory essays warned of boredom, and it was a tough read, although not for someone who has plowed through 18th century English novels. What I mostly saw was, predictably, hugely influential early texts, the root of all novels in the West. It was fascinating.

French Middle Ages literature, Bonaparte, Arabic travel writing

Since my last post, I've read an issue of The Economist and an issue of The Globe.

I only teach the first week of December, and I take advantage of it every year to read much more. This year, I'm giving a big push in the French collection Bibliotheque de la Pleiade. I hope to have only a few volumes left to read at the close of the year.

Well, so far I've been reading the most extraordinary things. The first was the volume of Arabic travel writing, Voyageurs arabes. It was really something to read the accounts, written over 1000 years ago, of travel throughout the Middle East, China and India, even central Asia. One writer describes the Russians as the dirtiest people in the world -- not washing before eating or after sex, and compares them to wandering donkeys. I can only imagine what my European forbears must have seemed like to aristocrats from other, more advanced, cultures.

The next was Jeux et Sapience du Moyen Age. These were the earliest know plays in French, or what I would call middle French, it's so old. There was a book on hunting, and a travelogue through Jerusalem, and excerpts from a treasury, that is to say, an encyclopedia of the era. The plays are charming and simple, and what I took away the most was the fact that I no longer have anyone with whom to speak the old French, now that my uncle has died. Oh, I speak French a bit in my professional life, but not with the heavy accent and contractions and archaic grammar of my mother's generation.

Finally, I'm reading right now the Memorial de Sainte Helene, written by Napoleon Bonaparte's chamberlain. It is incredible to be reading first hand accounts of the great man as he endures imprisonment and reflects on his life.