Acting and sanity

I have decided that I will attend more acting classes next year. I was busy yesterday rehearsing at my teacher's home and will be busy tomorrow night rehearsing again in a nearby town. I need to rehearse, but I discovered yesterday that I needed to do acting, I needed those evenings and that time spent learning lines, finding a voice, finding my character and making him live. I need to do something than watching TV at night and to be more active. I need to socialise of course and above all I need to do something I love. My mother put it perfectly a few weeks ago, she said: "Acting is cheaper than therapy!" This is witty enough to place it among the great unknown lines. It is also true to the core: acting is therapeutic. It is to me anyway and this is why I will carry on. It keeps me sane.

Être loin de l'action

Je ne veux pas transformer ce blogue en chronique météo, mais il semblerait que je manque les grandes tempêtes de neige et les excès climatiques de mon pays. Je suis certain que beaucoup de mes compatriotes doivent me trouver masochiste, mais il n'y a rien de plus difficile pour moi que de ne pas vivre des moments de l'année importants comme ceux-là. De ne plus vivre l'hiver québécois dans ce qu'il a de plus typique, ça me donne un peu le mal du pays. Parce que, qu'on l'aime ou qu'on le subisse, l'hiver c'est beaucoup de l'identité québécoise.

Spinning wheel

I was reading Gwen Buchanan's blog recently (which I found because she made a beautiful portrait of Anthony Burgess) and I noticed a pic of a spinning wheel that struck me. It reminded me of one I saw in the Keswick Museum, which you can see pictured on the left. I don't want to make her blush or anything, but I admire Gwen and consider her a true artist because she can take simple objects and show their aesthetic aspect, turn them into artistic creations: a stone wall, working tools, etc. Back in keswick, I took a picture of this spinning wheel because I thought it looked good, without understanding exactly why I thought so. It is a simple object, it was a long time ago a useful one, but it also has strong symbolic associations with the passage of time and death (I think among other things about the Norns in Viking mythology, even though they did not have a spinning wheel). But I just love it as an aesthetic object.

On compatit

J'ai mentionné sur Facebook mes mésaventures d'hier. Même si le billet sur mon magasinage est passé inaperçu jusqu'ici (il est vrai que je l'ai écrit tard), mais sur Facebook j'ai reçu beaucoup de commentaires sur comment éviter les problèmes et les frustrations que j'ai vécus et d'autres commentaires compatissants. Je crois que j'ai touché une corde sensible.

Forget what I said

As I blogged earlier on in French, I did some Christmas shopping today. I found the experience very frustrating. So much on sale, and so little worthy of buying. And I cannot stand the crowd. I hate big crowds. I blogged not so long ago about Buy Nothing Day and I feel that the post was written by another man. Today I wished I could have avoided buying anything and going to shops. I will be a capitalist again on Monday, for practical reasons, but this weekend my temper makes me a radical socialist. I guess I would have felt different going to small local shops, but big shopping centers really get me sick.

Constatation sur le magasinage des fêtes...

Je déteste ça. Je ne suis pas original, mais je déteste ça. Aujourd'hui on a passé l'après-midi, ma femme et moi, à essayer de trouver des cadeaux à tout le monde. On a fait des progrès, mais ce fut long, ce fut ennuyeux, ce fut souvent angoissant, ce fut encore plus souvent frustrant. Il était un temps où j'aimais trouver des cadeaux de Noël, je ne sais pas pourquoi ça a tant changé. Peut-être parce que maintenant je travaille à temps plein et je n'ai que les fins de semaines pour le faire. Peut-être aussi que c'est parce que je ne trouve simplement plus quoi acheter. C'est un peu parce que ma famille a déjà beaucoup, c'est aussi parce qu'on ne trouve plus rien, c'est du moins l'impression que j'ai. Bien des cossins bêtes, mais rien de bon, ou si peu.

"What's it going to be then, eh?"

"There was me, that is Alex, and my three droogs, that is Pete, Georgie, and Dim, Dim being really dim, and we sat in the Korova Milkbar making up rassoodocks what to do with the evening, a flip dark chill winter bastard though dry."

It may not be his best novel, but A Clockwork Orange certainly has quite a start. It had a strong impression on me when I first read it more than fifteen years ago, at around the same time of the year. For me, it epitomizes winter and teenage at its nastiest. It establishes the setting and characters with efficiency and a dash of poetry. I was reminded of it because the Foundation used it in one of its recent emails. So since it is winter now, often a flip dark chill winter bastard, I thought to put it here. This blog is about true fiction, after all. And there is never enough Anthony Burgess to quote.

Question existentielle (27)

Bon, ça fait déjà un bail que je n'ai pas posé de question existentielle, alors en voici une:

-Que demander comme cadeau à Noël?

Staying in the cave

I was supposed to go and rehearse like last week, but finally the actress couldn't make it, so I stayed in tonight. I am glad. Whatever I said about getting out of the house a week ago, I felt that I needed to stay at home. I feel tired and I need a rest. Even learning my lines by myself last night got me exhausted (I did make progress though). Sometimes it feels good to be an hermit. It is strange how my mood changed over a week, tonight I felt almost reclusive. It would be more accurate to say that I wanted to feel home and comfortable. Still, the cave can have its charm.

Le parfum des agrumes

Je lisais hier ce bouquin sur Noël au Québec et on y parlait des oranges, qui a longtemps été un fruit exotique associé aux Fêtes. On y parlait également et beaucoup de l'odeur de l'orange, associé à Noël. Ca m'a fait penser à mon intérêt pour les clémentines. Je ne les mange que durant les Fêtes, après cela elles perdent leur intérêt pour moi. Et j'adore leur parfum. Comme l'odeur du sapin et de la neige, je l'associe à Noël.

Daydreaming and creativity

Maybe it was because it was Monday, maybe it was because it was a grey December day that leads to melancholia, or because Christmas is coming, or for another reason, but I daydreamed quite a lot at work today. This is something I have done since childhood, when I was at school and bored stiff: I used to invent myself stories, sometimes very complex ones. Some of them we ended up playing them my brothers and I (in teenage and later I got a fair deal of D&Dr material through this), some they were just left in my head.

I guess I never quite grew up and my imagination has always been vivid. I mentioned it before: I am very conscious of my "Don Quixote" side(and I never read Don Quixote). It is strange because my daydreaming did not prevent me from being a good student, neither is it now a hindrance at work. I can have very good, productive days, yet daydream during a fair deal in them. But I sometimes think that I waste what could be good writing material. If I was putting on paper all of what I think about (a character, an image, a certain scene with atmosphere, a good line, what have you) when I should be doing something else, then getting rid of the bad stuff, then working on the good stuff, then trying to organise this into a whole that stands together, maybe I could write a good play, a good crime novel, maybe even the great Québec expat's novel. Well, one can dream. I would need first discipline, I think.

Les stocks

Je crois qu'il est temps que j'aie des vacances, surtout des vacances au Québec, parce que j'ai constaté récemment que je commence à être à court de bien des choses. Il me manque de tout, dont plusieurs trucs que je ne peux trouver que dans mon pays natal. Ce billet est donc une liste des stocks qui me manquent ou qui me restent (j'en écris parfois des triviaux comme ça):

-Beurre d'arachide Kraft. Quantité: épuisé.
-Livres de format poche pour lire en voyage. Quantité: risible. Je dis ça, et j'en ai encore assez pour quelques mois, mais il faut être dans un certain état d'esprit et avoir du temps pour lire des classiques (j'ai quelques briques, mais je me vois mal les transporter avec moi).
-After-shave. Quantité: dangereusement basse. Quand on a la barbe forte comme moi c'est un souci.
-Vêtements d'hiver. Quantité: indéterminée parce que souvent en pièces détachées. Je compte par ailleurs faire découvrir Kanuk aux Anglais.

Mozart and a commemoration

On the 5th of December, I usually blog about The Legend of Saint Nicholas. I still might later on. But Mozart`s Girl reminded me that today is Mozart's death anniversary. And to my great shame I don't think I ever commemorated it here. So here it is.

I blogged about Mozart fairly often, especially about the special relationship I have with his operas. It is through his lyric works that I mainly know and love Mozart. Back in 1991 (I think it was in May), when I was a teenager, my family and I visited Austria, which was therefore during his 200th death anniversary. We visited Mozart's world more than Austria this year, and spent many evenings going to concert, operas, etc. I was hooked for the next Summer. A few years later I got sick of it and listened to other things, mainly XIXth century composers. I got hooked again a few years later. Now his operas are my favourite to sing. I put a lot of his music here and I wanted to put some more to commemorate his death. I thought of his Hallelujah from Exultate Jubilate, but I could not find a good enough version on Youtube to embed here. Most of them simply had an awful sound. But I found this interpretation which is very nice, although I cannot put it here you can follow the link and enjoy it there.

Pas/plus de neige

Je ne veux pas transformer ce blogue en chronique météorologique, mais la neige qui est tombée récemment partout en Angleterre sauf ici m'a occupé l'esprit. Nous avons eu quelques brins de neige, assez pour que le soul se couvre d'un mince manteau blanc, pas assez pour l'ensevelir. Et pas assez pour que je puisse en profiter. À cause du brouhaha autour de l'oeil de la tempête, la bibliothèque a été fermée cette semaine, ce qui veut dire qu'on a eu une part (même infime) des désagréments de la neige sans les avantages. Je me console en attendant le séjour au Québec et en me disant que j'aurai là de la vraie neige.

Born in a different country?

I finally watched this interview with Christopher Hitchens. I was waiting for inspiration for another post and he gave it to me. There was a mention in this interview that he once said that he was born in the wrong country. He was of course refering to the United States of America, Hitchens having always been drawn to it.

I do not think for a minute that I was born in the wrong country. I am completely, utterly, desperately Quebecker, even as an expat, maybe moreso as an expat. But I do wonder sometimes where I could have been born, given my temperament and sensibilities. I once blogged about where I could live and once about absorbing cultures. This post is much more speculative and pretty much cultural daydream. Still, it is interesting to muse about this.

Of course, being an immigrant in England and having lived in this country on and off for more than ten years. I would have grown up as a pretty good Englishman: proud of a literature that I love (big and small), of the acting world that I admire and envy, drinking real ales, being a tea drinker from a much younger age, grumpy about the lousy weather, etc. I may not have been bilingual had I been born here, but I would still have become a republican, something that I would have gained at late teenage, alongside my atheism. I can more comfortably imagine myself being born English than say Irish or Italian because of my atheism: England is a more fertile soil for it and a more welcoming place. That said, I feel very strong connections to Italy. I have difficulties imagining myself as a born Italian, but in my life I came very close to be an adopted one. At some point, the only thing lacking was the language. I even had been Christened with an Italian name by my Italian friends (one day I might blog about this). During my first year in England, I discovered more Italian culture than British one and felt so comfortable in it that one of the Italian students I was hanging around with once called me "the most Italian of all Canadians". It was quite a compliment. But born in Italy, I wonder if I would have become who I am. I am a Northerner to the core, except when I try to be Italian. And it is difficult to imagine myself growing up in sunny mediterranean south of Italy. But maybe my inclination towards this country was done through absorbtion, it was not inherent to my nature.

Quai des Orfèvres

Mon (modeste) lectorat connaît mon admiration pour Henri-Georges Clouzot. Je vous présente donc ici un de mes films de Noël préférés. En fait, Quai des Orfèvres est un film policier qui se passe en partie dans le temps de Noël, mais c'est un de ceux que j'essaie de regarder durant les vacances. Petit chef d'oeuvre peu connu plein d'atmosphère, qui m'a fait découvrir Louis Jouvet (beaucoup) et Suzy Delair et Bernard Blier. Il y a beaucoup à aimer dans ce film: des personnages bien campés, des répliques savoureuses, un Paris d'après-guerre criant d'authenticité, glauque et gris mais pas dénué de charme (je préfère d'ailleurs ce Paris à celui que j'ai vu comme touriste). Ah oui, et c'est un film tourné de main de maître. Pas aussi génial que Le Corbeau, mais quand même un excellent film policier, très solide. Je laisse ici deux extraits du film, en attendant que je me retape le film complet à Noël.

Christmas market

We went to the local Christmas market tonight. It was a short trip and we were both tired and have work tomorrow (and because there is just so much to do there), but as usual we enjoyed it. Some snow fell last night and today, so it looked a bit like winter and Christmastime. There was the typical things: the Salvation army playing Christmas carols, food stands selling delicious meaty stuff (hot dogs and hamburgers mainly), lots of teenagers (many of whom I thought gave me side glances and I do find it tiresome), lots and lots of charities. It was the occasion for me to drink some seasonal ales from the local brewery, which I did, encourage some students businesses (long parenthesis here: I bought a tea mug from young girls entrepreneurs who were not from the school I taught and it was all right as I like to encourage commerce now) and give a few pennies to charities. I refrained from eating a burger, even though all that meat smelled delicious. But we had dinner before and I don`t want to stuff myself on a weekday. A short but nice evening that put me in the mood of the season.

"Présentement"

Les choses qu'on apprend quand on côtoie des francophones tous les jours au travail: l'adverbe présentement est une expression ancienne que maintenant seuls les Québécois utilisent. Donc, je me fais identifier comme Québécois à chaque fois que je le prononce ou je l'écris. Il y a aussi l'accent, bien entendu. Je suis d'ailleurs heureux qu'on ne me trouve plus d'accent suisse. Au moins on reconnaît mon accent québécois maintenant... enfin "présentement" j'ai toujours mon accent québécois.

In the eye of the storm

This picture was taken a few years ago (I believe it was 2007 or 2008) at my parent's place. It does not look at all like this from the window. Outside, it looks grey and there had barely been any snow falling outside. It is ironic, since the country is paralysed because of the heavy snow falls. I mentioned how England reacts to snow before and more recently. But so far, I have not experienced it. We are literally in the eye of the storm. And it frustrates me. I want to have a day or two off work and read at home, or learn my lines, listen to music or simply walk around the snowy neighbourhood. I miss the snow a lot in this country and just when there is a lot, I cannot appreciate it.

1er Décembre

Nous sommes le premier décembre, ce qui veut dire que c'est le début de l'Avent (en fait il commençait hier officiellement, à la Saint-André, mais je n'avais pas le temps de le souligner). Alors ce soir nous allons monter l'arbre de Noël. Il faut bien se mettre dans l'esprit des fêtes, même si la neige manque cruellement. C'est quand même ironique que ça tombe de partout en Angleterre et que je sois littéralement dans l'oeil du cyclone.

Cette photo a été prise en 2008 à Chicoutimi. Elle n'est pas très bonne, mais elle montre une décoration que j'aime bien. Je laisse les lecteurs qui ne sont pas dans le secret deviner dans quel pays nous l'avons acheté.