Day at home

It's my first day as a "house husband" (therefore my wife's first working day). It happened in the past, but not in a while. It is dreadfully boring here. One needs to work to enjoy doing nothing.

RIP Charlton Heston

Charlton Heston is dead. He represented a great era of cinema, but I don't know what to think of the actor. It's not because I didn't like his NRA time (I didn't like it, but that's not the point), but I never knew how to take him as an actor. I love acting, as an art I practiced as an amateur, as a window to human's psyche. I have a tremendous admiration for actors. I felt really sad when the great Marlon Brando died, I could kill for Cate Blanchett, I have an undying admiration for Al Pacino, Robbie Coltrane, Christopher Eccleston, Robert Powell, Michel Côté (gotta go for my country at least once), Ciaran Hinds, Pierre Fresnay (the whole casting of Le Corbeau, actually, all unknown now who did a magnificent job), so many of them I will not start to list them all. Old, new, famous, unknown, forgotten, I just love acting that much. As long as they are good (and even then, they don't have to be that good, just committed to their art) I will love them unconditionally. I enjoyed the work of Charlton Heston in Planet of the Apes, I enjoyed Ben Hur as an action movie, I enjoyed his small role in Brannagh's Hamlet, but I was never touched by his Moses (I much prefer Moses the Lawgiver with Burt Lancaster, but then again the script was of Anthony Burgess, although I swear I prefered it before I even knew Burgess even existed) and thought that in The Greatest Story Ever Told his John the Baptist was just too much... himself playing himself with a fake beard. I always felt he had more charisma (and surely he had plenty of that) than acting skills (which were adequate, but never outstanding). It is true I haven't seen many of his movies, I will try to correct that and hopefully will have a better idea of the actor behind the public man.

Blondes, brunes, brumes

De retour dans notre petite ville trop tranquille, je ne veux pas parler que de température, alors je reviens (encore) sur mon voyage en Bretagne, ou un aspect de celui-ci. J'ai eu l'occasion d'essayer le cidre, mais aussi les bières locales. Les produits de la brasserie Lancelot est présente à peu près partout, sauf dans quelques bars qui carburent encore, à la Stella Artois et autres bières mièvres. Je préfère les bières anglaises, mais les produits de Bretagne se défendent fort bien. Durant notre journée en Brocéliande, j'ai essayé une Telenn Du au lunch. Superbe couleur ambrée, un petit air de brume que son goût semble reproduire.

En avril...

...ne te découvre pas d'un fil. Il a neigé ce matin. En avril, en Angleterre. Ce n,est rien comparé à ce que le Québec a eu jusqu'ici, mais c,est quand même rare. Et c'est trois mois trop tard. J'apprécie moins en avril. Voyez-vous, j'aime les changements saisonniers: des étés chauds, des automnes frais, des hivers avec de la neige et des printemps qui réchauffent au moins un peu.

Cidre de Bretagne, cidre d'Angleterre

Une autre (re)découverte faite en Bretagne: le cidre. Ils en font beaucoup, c'est une fierté régionale (nationale?) comme ailleurs le vin ou la bière. L'Angleterre a une bonne production de cidre aussi, on peut y trouver d'excellentes marques, mais elles sont englouties dans des décalitres de produits cheaps à l'usage des ivrognes, ce qui est tragique. J'ai donc redécouvert le cidre en Bretagne, où il a vraiment le goût de pomme. Je vais faire de plus amples recherches de ce côté-ci de la Manche. Ici, j'aime bien le Green Goblin, mais j'aime pas mal tout ce que produit la Wychwood Brewery, alors...

J'ai parlé trop vite...

...Il grêlonne dehors. J'imagine que c'est un temps d'avril, mais je me sens d'humeur moins printannière que ce matin.

Et de retour de voyage, il semblerait que les billets de mon blogue soient redevenus d'une banalité affligeante. Promis, juré, je cherche une citation profonde à vous mettre sous la dent (pour mon lectorat francophone, parce que mon lectorat anglophone a été un peu trop gâté ces temps-ci).

Le printemps enfin?

Il faisait chaud hier, il semble faire chaud aujourd'hui, le soleil brille, est-ce que le printemps serait enfin arrivé? Difficile à dire en Angleterre, surtout au mois d'avril.

Quoting Stanley Kubrick

For no specific reason, here's a quote from Stanley Kubrick (Playboy interview by Erick Nordern, September 1968):

The most terrifying fact about the universe is not that it is hostile but that it is indifferent; but if we can come to terms with this indifference and accept the challenges of life within the boundaries of death – however mutable man may be able to make them – our existence as a species can have genuine meaning and fulfillment. However vast the darkness, we must supply our own light.

I always loved that statement, which is very existentialist (I always thought that many of Kubrick movies had existentialist themes). I will try to apply this in my own life, as it is at the moment pretty uneventful. I have no difficulty to understand and agree with Kubrick on this one: the universe is epically indifferent.

RIP Max the Bunny

My wife finished today Max the Bunny. I still have to eat the head of the cat and my own Lindt bunny.

Comment j'ai découvert l'Ankou

J'avais sans doute six ou sept ans quand j'ai lu l'album de Spirou du même nom. Je me rappelle assez peu de l'histoire, mais l'Ankou avait fait une plus forte impression que les autres personnages. Je crois que l'Ankou était un personnage trop sinistre pour le comique léger et bon enfant des Spirou, mais je suis curieux de relire l'album. Je suis également plus curieux de voir ce qu'on a fait du personnage dans une série plus sérieuse.

Nostalgie de Bretagne

Je suis de retour depuis moins de vingt-quatre heures et j'ai déjà la nostalgie de la Bretagne. Le séjour ne pouvait être plus long, mais il a quand même été un peu court. J'aurais aimé visiter plus d'endroits et acheter plus de bouquins (au moins mes beaux-parents n'auront pas de difficultés à me trouver des cadeaux pour mon anniversaire/pour Noël des prochaines années). Un constat à mon retour: Portsmouth est une ville bien laide, même sous le soleil.

À Saint-Malo

Nous sommes de retour de Bretagne (et, ironiquement, je peux maintenant taper mes billets sur un clavier québécois), la traversée fut très plaisante, le voyage en train un peu moins (trop long, trop de changements). Nous avons à peine vu Saint-Malo, on l'a traversé et c'est tout en fait, mais je me promets de revisiter la ville.

Durant toute la traversée, j'ai eu en tête les paroles d'une chanson que mes voisins chantaient dans mon enfance:

À Saint Malo beau port de mer (bis)
Trois beaux navires sont arrivés
Nous irons sur l'eau nous irons promener
Nous irons jouer dans l'île.

Ils remplacent souvent "trois beaux navires" par "trois gros navires", mais dans mon souvenir c'est la première version qui me vient en tête. Le reste des paroles ici. Les paroles avec traduction anglaise ici.

A vision of Brocéliande

I don't know and don't think I gave justice in words to the effect Brocéliande had on me. I saw no spirit, no dragon, but the place is haunting. So I put these pictures, hoping the images will illustrate better than words what the forest can inspire. For those wo want more, there is still that entry from my wife's blog.

Crucifix

What struck me in Brittany is the omnipresence of the croix de village. Well, of all those crucifixes you see around. France is a secular country, much more than any other in Europe, but even they never managed to get rid of some remnants of Catholicism. That said, I like those crucifix, it gives the surroundings character.

cats and witches

Two things my wife and I noticed in Brittany: there are a lot of weathervans with witches on them, and there seems to be lots of cats around too. My guess: Morgan had lots of followers and there are witches around, hence the many cats.

Chêne à Guillotin

On a aussi vu hier le Chêne à Guillotin, un arbre creux millénaire qui a servi de refuge à l'abbé Guillotin durant la Révolution française. L'histoire ici et ici pour les curieux.

Abbaye de Paimpont

Here are some pictures of the Abbaye de Paimpont. Beautiful old place, parts of it is medieval. It is a beautiful church. You can see at the right of this entry a statue of Saint Judicaël, a Breton saint (his Day is the 16th of December, for those who want to celebrate this lesser known holy person). I have also a picture of Saint John the Baptist somewhere (patron Saint of Quebeckers, so I am particularly found of him). And I have some good news about my soul: it appears that I am not doomed yet. Holy water didn't burn me, I checked. It could have for the unbelievers, but I didn't dare to spray them with it.

Nimble the Korrigan

Before I forget: the Korrigan has been baptised by my wife. His name is Nimble.

Arbre d'Or

Here is a quick entry, about the Arbre d'Or, where Merlin is supposed to have been imprisoned. I prefered the surroundings to the tree itself. The forest is really gorgeous around there. I wish we had had the time (and the boots) to explore the path that passes by the tree a bit longer, but it would have been a few kilometers of walk in the mud. Anyway, you really feel in another world by moments, it was really a nice experience.

Journey to Brocéliande

We went to Brocéliande (also known as Paimpont, but I prefer its Celtic name) yesterday. We didn't see all (not Barenton, for instance), but the forest is so big and there is so much to see. I will see barenton next trip. We went to the Tombeau de Merlin, the Château de Comper and some other things, I will write entries with pictures later on. I didn't see any Korrigan, or l'Ankou (but it was daytime), not even the ghost of Merlin or the Lady of the Lake. But that was still nice, and the forest really has character.