Cambridge, Nov 4 2017
Linguistics, my beloved.
Interviewer: What difference in usage would you point out in these three languages [Russian, English, French], these three instruments?
Nabokov: Naunces. If you take framboise in French, for example, it’s a scarlet color, a very red color. In English, the word raspberry is rather dull, with perhaps a little brown or violet. A rather cold color. In Russian it’s a burst of light, malinovoe; the word has associations of brilliance, of gaiety, of ringing bells. How can you translate that?
- Vladimir Nabokov, Think, Write, Speak: Uncollected Essays, Reviews, Interviews and Letters to the Editor. Bryan Boyd and Anastasia Tolstoy, Eds.
Questions To Ask People You Like:
Favourite classical authors?
Favourite poem?
Favourite book?
Preferred writing utensil?
Favourite place?
Favourite memory?
Most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen?
Favourite library?
Favourite flower?
Sense and Sensibility or Pride and Prejudice?
Favourite quote?
Favourite Latin phrase?
British or American spelling?
Favorite obscure fact?
Favorite historical figure?
Favorite romance novel?
Favorite big city?
Favorite small town?
Favorite constellation?
Favorite university?
Favorite British town?
Favorite obscure author?
Favorite fabric pattern?
Favorite song?
Story of their first love?
Ideal plans for tomorrow?
Favorite old French author?
Favorite turn of phrase?
Favorite capitol or city hall?
Favorite old building?
Favorite museum?
Favorite book store?
Favorite folk tale?
Favorite historical story?
Favorite historical battle?
Oxford or Cambridge?
Edinburgh or London?
Favorite Italian town?
Favorite palace or castle?
Favorite noble family?
Favorite royal family?
Favorite century?
Ever written a love letter?
Favorite weather?
Tea or coffee?
If your name was Adelia, which nickname would you choose, Addie or Delia?
Favorite Greek, Roman, or Norse myth?
Opinion on Oxford commas?
Favorite word in a foreign language?
Favorite English word?
Favorite historical time period?
Favorite song lyric?
Favorite things?
- Sylvia Plath, from 'Ariel'
I believe that a morning should never describe a day. Of course, I don’t believe mornings listen to mortal pleas and reasoning, but I try to enact this rule myself. Yet, it is a morning’s nature to bleed into your perception of a day, tint it with sorrow or with beauty. The only times when I forbid myself from enforcing this rule is when my day is unknowingly stricken with a morning of perfect quiescence, an awake before the world has begun to turn. Those rare mornings can feel free to pour through the seams of time and stain the parchment of afternoons and evenings a beautiful shade of rose. I’m quite a hypocrite, I do know.
from john ciardi’s translation of “the inferno” by dante alighieri
It's always: "wanna hang out" but never "hey let's create a secret society and read literature and poetry"