Preparing for Halloween

It is in a week time. Getting impatient already? I am. Even though it will be on a Monday and I cannot celebrate it nearly as much as I want to on a Monday. I will however carve the pumpkin into a Jack O'Lantern this weekend. The one on the right I carved in 2009. I was quite proud of the result. I don't know how Jack will look like this year: devilish, vampiric, or maybe ghostly, like Jack should feel after so many years of roaming the Earth?

I will do the usual this week: reading horror stories, or Halloween-related stories (this book, for instance), watch horror movies, put more decorations if I can find any, eat sweet things and of course, blog about Halloween. I have many topics I want to cover: gluttony and the primitive origins of trick or treating, my own take on the tale of Jack O'Lantern, some more about Halloween of my childhood (I do believe there is still some details left to cover) and beer (you'll see). Often for such celebrations, preparing for it is more interesting than the day itself, especially at an age when I don't trick or treat anymore and in a place where Halloween is only a minor holiday.

Une toux contagieuse

L'automne serait la saison idéale sans ce désagrément majeur: le rhume qu'elle engendre souvent. En fait, c'est toujours la saison idéale, mais je serais un homme heureux si je ne toussais pas. J'ai une toux qui me prend la gorge ces temps-ci. Je ne suis pas le seul: j'entends tousser au travail et dans le train. Tout le monde tousse ces temps-ci, il semblerait.

Je crois que c'est dû aux changements de température, peut-être aussi un peu aux changements de luminosité. J'espère simplement que le chatouillement que je ressens dans le larynx ne se transformera pas en mal de gorge carabiné qui m'empêchera de savourer les friandises de l'Halloween qui s'en vient. Un rhume, ça arrive toujours au mauvais moment mais plus encore à l'automne. Au moins je peux me consoler en constatant que je ne suis pas le seul.

The virtues of rooibos

I know this blog might seem to have become a food and drink blog now, but I need to go where my mind muses. Stay tuned for my post on Halloween and gluttony (no kidding, I have one in mind about this very topic). I am drinking rooibos at the moment. I discovered it by total chance, looking for some hot drink without caffeine that I could drink at night. I found Twinings' Redbush tea, which is in fact rooibos. Not officially/properly tea, but close enough, definitely closer to tea than the infusion my parents used to be fond of. It took me a while to really appreciate it, but it grew on me.

It has a number of virtues: antioxidant, no caffeine, no caffeine and well, it has no caffeine so I can drink it at this time and not feel restless or dehydrated. Many of its virtues might be psychosomatic, but I do find rooibos calming. At a time when insomnia has become an issue for me (I have never been a good sleeper, but this has gone worse lately) and as I to avoid relying too much on medication, rooibos might become my new warm milk.

L'art de survivre à la mélancolie du dimanche

Parce que bon, les sanglots longs des violons de l'automne c'est bien beau, mais ça n'arrange rien: je trouve dimanche mélancolique et plus le lundi approche plus j'ai ce sentiment de fatalité. Alors j'essaie de survivre à la mélancolie. Je sais, j'ai déjèa blogué là-dessus en anglais (et je crois un million de fois, de manière directe ou indirecte) Cela dit, je parlais ici de combattre la mélancolie du dimanche. J'essaie une autre stratégie ces temps-ci: d'y survivre, tout simplement. La mélancolie a du bon, surtout en automne. En tout cas elle a du charme. L'hiver, c'est autre chose, surtout après les Fêtes: il faut des remèdes plus radicaux.

Alors aujourd'hui j'ai marché dans les alentours. Il faisait chaud, mais pas trop, alors c'était une belle journée automnale appréciable. J'ai lu. J'ai essayé de faire des tâches ménagères. En fait, j'ai essayé de m'adonner à des activités tranquilles, histoire d'être le moins actif possible, tout en l'étant. Vous me suivez? C'est un équilibre subtil à atteindre: l'esprit doit demeurer occupé sans pour autant devenir soucieux, ou obsédé par un problème quelconque. Après avoir passé ma journée d'hier à magasiner, je voulais un dimanche tranquille.

Fancy a modern ghost story?

I am a big fan of Conor McPherson since I saw his Shining City back in the Lake District. It is the only play I read of him, but I want to read more. I admire a lot of things about it: how believeable, natural the characters were, how dead genuine the dialogue was and how on top of this he managed on top of this to make a believable ghost story set in modern day Ireland. McPherson has a way of twisting expectations of the genre that is pretty much pure genius. It is a cliché to say that someone goes beyond the genre. In his case, he puts the genre back in modern drama. As Halloween, the most Irish holiday with Saint-Patrick, I am on the look for ghost stories and horror movies. I was happily surprised,  looking for info about McPherson, to discover that he wrote and directed a horror movie, The Eclipse, in 2009. To top it up, the main character is played by... Ciaran Hinds, an actor I greatly admire. More about the movie here. There are some clips of the movie around Youtube too.

I don't know if I can see it before Halloween, but I hope so. If like me you prefer sobriety to gore and shock, this movie, if it is anything like McPherson's stage work, might give you a genuine chill. Here is the trailer.

Les sanglots longs des violons de l'automne

"Les sanglots longs
Des violons
De l'automne
Blessent mon coeur
D'une langueur
Monotone."

Vous trouverez le reste du poème ici. J'ai assez peu lu de Verlaine dans ma vie, en fait je suis plus François Villon en ce qui concerne la poésie, mais j'aime bien les premiers vers de ce poème, qui capturent parfaitement la mélancolie automnale. Quand je ne sais pas trop quoi écrire sur ce blogue, j'aime bien citer.

Late snack

Well, my readers might be happy to know that I survived the shopping trip today. I am almost sane again. That said, it left me tired and wanting to stay away from that falling/fallen civilisation that is the shopping center (I do have the feeling of venturing into Sodom and Gomorrah every time). But buying new jeans made me notice something: I am quite skinny. So to treat myself after this tiring Saturday and to be sure I will not melt into oblivion, I am having milk and biscuits. I think I deserve a Saturday night treat, after such a long afternoon.

Question existentielle (81)

J'ai une fringale, alors je m'apprête à manger des biscuits avec du lait. J'espère que ça ne me rendra pas insomniaque. Cela dit, je me pose maintenant une question existentielle:

-Quelle est la meilleure collation quand on a une fringale un samedi soir?

The necessary evil of shopping

I am running out of wearable clothes. It is a sad fact of life: I will survive them. My jeans are slowly but surely falling apart and I need new socks, new shirts, new jumpers, new everything. I have a new coat so there is one thing on less thing on the list, but still, I need to do what I hate to do on a Saturday: go clothes shopping.

As I type this, I am wearing a ten years old black jumper that is greying, or at least looking pale black, if that makes sense. It is very comfortable, as old clothes usually are. But however I love old clothes, I now need to face civilisation and buy a few things in this temple of perdition that is the shopping center. I hope to survive the afternoon, but I might turn mad by the end of it. At least I will go and buy warm clothes, my favourite sort. I need to keep this in mind to stay somewhat sane.

Bozo

Je ne mets pas assez de musique québécoise ici et je voulais mettre un peu plus de Félix, mais je me demandais ce qui ferait l'affaire alors que l'Halloween s'en vient. L'année dernière j'avais mis Grand-papa Pan Pan. Et puis j'ai retrouvé Bozo sur Youtube, peut-être le premier vidéoclip québécois. Le vidéo et la chanson sont oniriques, ce qui sans être nécessairement terrifiant est caractéristique de l'Halloween. Et puis je trouve que les marais, les étangs et les lacs vaseux sont toujours un peu sinistres. Alors j'ai décidé de mettre Bozo ici...

Two great unknown lines

The workplace is a great source of great unknown lines (this one being maybe my favourite). Sometimes you have to be there, sometimes it could work for every workplace, which is why I love the two I am going to publish now. I hesitated before publishing, I try to stay discreet about work, but since for the record there is no real animosity between the protagonists, I thought I couldn't get those unpublished.

So my manager is off for a little bit. Some of my other colleagues didn't know about it and one asked me:

"So Guillaume, did you finally snap and kill him?"

This is the first great unknown line. It is even funnier because I look nothing like a murderer. Seriously. I don't. I wouldn't snap. I am no Norman Bates. I mean, I actually like my manager, my colleagues and my work environment, even on bad days I am surprised I prefer it to a school I used to work for. Anyway, I guess I don't mind having a sinister reputation, because I replied:

"I wouldn't do something that stupid, I'll be the prime suspect."

Which I think is both diplomatic and slightly Sollozzo-esque (remember that line in The Godfather, "If I'd wanted to kill you, you'd be dead already").

Un vendredi échevelé

Fatalitas! C'est quand on craint le plus une chose qu'elle se produit. Hier je posais une question existentielle sur l'insomnie. Vos bons conseils n'ont servi à rien: l'insomnie m'a pris pendant une bonne partie de la nuit. J'ai réussi à dormir, finalement, mais pour la première fois depuis quelques années je n'ai pas entendu mon réveille-matin sonner. L'horreur. Je me suis réveillé et levé juste à temps pour me préparer et sortir, mais j'avais les cheveux en bataille (réponse à la question existentielle numéro 15: maintenant) et j'étais vaseux. La journée au travail n'a pas été particulièrement atroce, en fait elle a été plutôt tranquille, heureusement d'ailleurs, mais j'ai eu pendant tout ce temps la désagréable impression d'être échevelé.

Another Danse Macabre

Yes, I blogged about it before. I love Saint-Saëns' Danse Macabre, it is one of my favourite pieces of music for Halloween. And I found this piece of animation on Youtube yesterday and couldn't resist. Yes, animation is a big word, as there is barely any, the drawings are pretty crude, the colours are iffy at best (and so darn pastel), but for some reason I find it irresistible. A still dance with skelettons is spooky enough, especially with that music. According to the Youtube description this comes from PBS and was made in the 80s. I used to watch British sitcoms on PBS. I wish I had seen this short film. Since I have sadly little time to watch and read horror stories, those short films put me in the Halloween mood. I hope this one does the same to you.

Question existentielle (80)

Une question d'une importance capitale pour moi, qui en est affligé plus souvent qu'à mon tour:

-Quel est le meilleur remède contre l'insomnie?

The fear of the blank page

I have been quite prolific recently as a blogger, what with Halloween coming and my favourite season in full bloom. But I am worried about after Halloween, the post Halloween blues which I always dread. I am worried about the inspiration I will have then. I am not sure I will do any acting to keep me busy, as I received no news about an acting course. Not much happening in my life means one thing: not much to blog about.

I know I am not a writer, great or small, but I do fear the Blank Page Syndrome. When inspiration does not come, when your muse is off, when you have nothing to fuel your writing, even if it is just a post. I have more than enough to keep me going until Halloween, in fact I might be lacking time to blog about everything I want to blog about. But once Halloween is done, I will need to do lots of invocations to my muse. Did we discover who was the Muse of bloggers? I don't think we did. I don't care about patron saints, I mean a proper muse. I will need one when the time comes.

S'habiller chaudement

L'expression commence à prendre tout son sens ces temps-ci. J'ai peine à croire qu'au début d'octobre il faisait doux. Ca m'a pris quelques semaines, mais maintenant je porte mes vêtements chauds: gilets cols roulés épais, le manteau d'automne (ici il peut aussi faire office de manteau d'hiver, la plupart du temps), les gants épais. Il ne manque plus que les bottes et le foulard (la tuque c'est pour plus tard). Et ce n'est pas seulement nécessaire le matin et le soir: je suis sorti ct après-midi quelques minutes et la température était bien fraîche.

Cela dit, après avoir trouvé le temps trop chaud, voire même collant, après avoir passé un été médiocre, je suis content que l'automne ressemble enfin à l'automne. Je préfère aussi les vêtements chauds aux vêtements légers: les températures automnales sont les plus propices au confort.

The smell of autumn

Today was a perfect autumn day, sunny, windy, cold, crisp... I didn't feel like going to work and I could have stayed out all day, only going in pubs for a quick drink or a lunch, and then out again. Sadly I had to go to work.  I know I can't complain. Still, there are days like this one where I feel like a bear and think I should just prepare to hibernate.

But what I noticed today was the smell of autumn. Well, my brother sort of lead me to it as he mentioned it on his Facebook Wall, saying that he loves it. I often mention here the fiery colours of autumn, but rarely its smells. It is usually more difficult to describe. Autumn has a distinctive smell, something ripe and cold and often dry. It smells of the coming winter, of fruits, of harvest, of moulding stuff, yet it does not smell of decay. It is something strong yet soothing. Springtime often smells rotten, especially in the beginning, especially in Northern countries like my home, where everything that had been under meters of snow start rotting in the open. Summer can smell nice, but it is often too agressive. There is a sweetness in the smell of autumn, even when the cold wind prickles the skin. And after a walk in the autumn air, you can still smell in on your clothes. Bliss.

La Veille de la Toussaint?

Parmi tous les cadeaux que j'ai reçus de Wendy récemment, il y a une de ces décorations (qui représente un chat noir) que l'on met dans l'eau pour lui faire prendre du volume (jusqu'à six fois la taille originale en dix jours, il paraît). Elle est en train de mijoter dans l'eau. Cela dit, ce n'est pas pour ça que j'écris ce billet. Ce qui m'a fasciné, c'est l'emballage.

Ou, pour être plus précis, la traduction en français sur l'emballage. C'est une traduction littérale épouvantable, "Grow your own Halloween" devient "Élevez votre propre Veille de la Toussaint". Un unilingue francophone ne pourrait pas suivre les instructions correctement. Dans un premier temps, je trouvais ça pathétique, puis ça m'a frappé: les Français pour eux, c'est tout ce qu'est l'Halloween, littéralement la Veille de la Toussaint. Ils n'ont pas la même histoire que nous avec la fête. Mêmes les Anglais la connaissent et l'apprécient mieux. Parce que la Veille de la Toussaint, c'est ce qu'elle est au mieux. J'ai lu et entendu de plusieurs Français que l'Halloween était une fête controversée, vue comme une manifestation du consumérisme et de l'impérialisme culturel américains, voire pour certains curés, une fête diabolique et sinistre. Je trouve ça bien dommage. On a nos gâcheurs de fête au Québec (et en Angleterre, donc!), mais ils n'ont pas le haut du pavé. Pas à ce point-là.

The Origins of Satan (a sort of biography)

My readers know that I am fascinated by the Devil in folklore and literature, especially but not exclusively in his Christian form. So I was so happy to discover on Youtube a very instructive and complete video about the origins of the Satan character and its development and evolution in Western culture.

I knew a little about it, but in sum very little.What I find particularly interesting is the plural origins of the Devil and its inconsistent, often contradictory forms. For instance, the Serpent of the Genesis was never supposed to be Satan, merely a cunning trickster who fooled God's creation. The Original Sin, as written, is a practical joke. In The Book of Job, Satan is on good terms with God and follow his will. The Christians, and often not early ones, developed him into what/who he is now, the ultimate bogeyman. But what a fascinating character! An amoral underdog, ready to revolt against the most powerful being in the world, knowing every weakness of mankind and being able to exploit them, a seducer... I don't want to be like him, but I would love to play him, as I mentioned before. Evil characters are very often more interesting than good ones. But to understand a character better, it is important to know his origins, his genesis, so to speak. So here it is.

Question existentielle (79)

J'y ai pensé en écrivant ce billet:

-Quelle est la meilleure chanson de feu de camp du patrimoine de l'humanité?

Et en passant la question 78 n'a pas encore été répondue.