Hej, allihoppa!

Hello, hello all! Look who's back, just like she promised...!

I feel like I have done a lot of language related things in the past week, and it is almost entirely due to these things that you see me here now.

This, right here, will be a multilingual lit post!*

I have started five new books in the past seven days, some of which I absolutely adore. I'll start with the German book, as my German is no way near good enough to write in.

The book is Splitterherz by Bettina Bellitz. To be honest, I am little more than a page in, and this is not due to my almost non-existent grasp of the language. No, the reason my reading of this book lags is because I already don't think that I like it. The Prologue was actually doing a good job of holding my respect until I got to the bit about the weeping moon. Which is... somewhat melodramatic. In hindsight, with my 'objectivity' glasses on, it is a good prologue, and I wish I could have taken it more seriously. Intrigued by the prologue of weeping moons and innocent yet wild souls** - or rather horrified by my choice - I went back to the blurb to find out which book it was I was actually reading. It turned out to be the one with the arrogant yet fascinating boy who has a deep secret that turns out to be tied to the protagonists own family history...
Yeah, so, not my thing. Recently, I have been finding myself being turned off by the mention of arrogant yet fascinating boys. Their fascination seems always to lie in the fact that are cryptic and act in an awful way but because of Reasons. Well, for my own Reasons, I don't like the romanticisation of this type, but I am still willing to continue on with the book as it is the only one of the German books that I earmarked that is available as a kindle sample.

And now for something completely different...

J’ai commencé trois livres français cette semaine. Le premier était Je suis un dragon de Martin Page. C’est un livre dont le concept m’intéressé depuis sa parution au début de l’année. J’ai à peine lu deux ou trois pages (je ne suis pas sûre, je l’ai lu sur mon iPhone), mais je l’aime déjà. Le personnage principal est une fille doué des pouvoirs surhumains. Je ne sais pas trop quels pouvoirs, mais elle semble être impossible à tuer – ce qui aurait me déranger, je peux vous dire. Cette puissance semble de la dérange elle aussi, parce qu’au début du roman elle est soumis à une expérience tellement violent pour démonter ses pouvoirs, une expérience qui finit par une perte de vie…

Fin, je ne veux pas trop dire et en tout cas je ne peux pas trop dire mais ça y est. Je suis impatiente de lire la suite, et je vais l’acheter dès que possible.

I started three French books this week. The first is I am a dragon by Martin Page. The concept of this book has interested me since its publication at the start of the year. I've hardly read two or three page (I'm not sure, because I was reading on my iPhone), but I like it already. The main character is a girl gifted with superhuman powers. I don't really know what powers, but she seems to be impossible to kill - which would bug me, I can tell you. This power seems to bug her, too, because at the start of the book we see her as the subject of an extremely violent experiment to demonstrate her powers, an experiment which finishes with the loss of a life...

Okay, so I don't really want to say too much, and I can really say that much, but there it is. I'm impatient to carry on reading, and I'm going to buy a paper copy of the book as soon as possible.

Le deuxième roman que j'ai commencé à lire cette semaine ne m’était pas aussi impressionnante. En fait, mes sentiments face au ce livre sont à peu près le même que ceux j’ai exprimé sur Splitterherz. Le roman est intitulé Les Cendres d’oubli par Carina Rozenfeld et la description m’a vraiment intéressé. Mais, dès le prologue, qui était encore une fois pleine de mélodrame, je n'ai plus beaucoup d'espoir pour ce livre.. En ce cas, c’était un mélodrame amoureux qui m’a exaspéré beaucoup plus que tous ces beaux mots des lunes pleurantes et âmes armées aux griffes… Oui, parce que ça, ça se trouve aussi ! Cependant, le concept de ce livre reste captivant. L’histoire est celle du Phoenix ou plutôt des Phoenix parce que, effectivement, il y’en a toujours deux qui doivent existe au monde en même temps. Donc, évidemment, il y aura de l’amour, de drame amoureux, des malentendus et moments précaires. Mais ce n’est pas impossible que je l’aimerai, malgré tout ça !

The second [French] novel I started this week wasn't quite as impressive. In fact, I feel about the same way about it as I felt about Splitterherz. It is called The Ashes of the forgotten*** by Carina Rozenfeld, and the description was really interesting. But from the prologue, which was once again full of melodrama, I don't have much hope for this book. In this case, the melodrama was of the romantic type, and it exasperated me a lot more than all that talk of weeping moons and souls armed with hooks... because, yes, those came up, too! However, the concept of the book is still interesting. It is the story of the phoenix, or rather, of the Phoenixes, because actually there are always two who have to be alive at the same time. So, of course, there is going to be love, romangst, misunderstandings and moments where everything looks to go tits-up. But I might just like it, even with all of that!

Et puis enfin le troisième roman [français] de la semaine ! Ceci est Nagasaki d’Éric Faye, et c’est un livre duquel je ne veux pas trop dire. La raison pour cette réticence peu typique est qu’un critique irréfléchi a spoilé le livre pour moi. Mais ça a l'air d'être quelque chose qui aurai pu été écrit par Julio Cortazar lui-même, si Julio Cortazar a écrit les livres en Francais, fondés sur les évènements réelles, qui déroulent au Japon... Le petit extrait m’a révélé un coup de cœur. Je l’ai vraiment adoré. En fait, je ne peux pas me restreindre, je crois que je l’achèterai aujourd'hui!

And finally the third [French] novel of the week! This one is Nagasaki by Éric Faye, and I don't want to say too much about it. The reason for such uncharacteristic reticence is because an unfortunate review spoiled the book a bit for me. But it seems to be something that could have issued forth from the pen of Julio Cortazar himself, if Julio Cortazar wrote books in French, based on true stories, set in Japan... I think that, from the extract I read, I'm going to love it. In fact, I don't think I can restrain myself, I'm probably going to buy it today!

Och jag ska sluta med den svenska boken. Jag ber om er ursäkt innan jag börjar, för jag är lite osäker på att tala och skriva i svenska. Kaninhjärta av Christin Ljungqvist verkar vara en blandning av en spökhistoria, en psykologisk thriller och en deckare. Hittills har jag läst utomkring tre sidor av boken, kanske flera. Och det är mycket intressant. Författarens stil är något nytt för mig och meningarna rinna om som en flod. Historian handlar om två flickor, tvillingssystrar Anne och Mary. Den ena, Anne, kan se spökar som tar kontroll av hennes systers kropp. De beskrevs som en person med ett tänker, då är de ett medium. Jag ska inte tala mer om boken tills att jag har läst ännu vidare, men jag tycker om den och jag har redan köpt e-boken.

And I will finish with the Swedish book. I ask for your forgiveness in advance (oh, mighty Swedish speakers!) because I'm kind of unsure about speaking and writing Swedish. Rabbit Heart by Christin Ljungqvist seems to be a mixture of a horror story, a psychological thriller and a murder mystery. So far I've read about three pages, maybe more. And it's very interesting. The authors style is something new (at least, for my Swedish self), and the sentences flow  along and carry me with them. The story is about two girls, twin sisters Anne and Mary. One, Anne, can see the spirits which posses her sisters body. They are described as one person with one mind, so it follows that they make up one medium. I won't say any more about the book until I have read even more, but I like it and I have already bought the e-book.

So, this post has been a long one, and it took me a while to write. I'm actually pretty proud of myself, to tell the truth. I wasn't expecting to be able to write so much at all, especially not for Swedish. As far as I can tell, only Nagasaki has been translated into English, published by Gallic books. If you speak any of the other languages, though, or if, like me, you are willing to stumble blindly through, I really reccommend Kaninhjärta and Je suis un dragon.

Happy reading :)

And happier blogging,

Little Newman

*Not a lit corner, I feel compelled to add, because I haven't actually finished any of these books yet. So, we stick with post.
**Okay, I thought that bit was silly, too.
***Extremely liberal translation there from me...!

Resolution

So, why is a resolution called a resolution? Or, perhaps more reasonably, why are resolutions not the same as resolution? This is an important question, and one which I will not attempt to answer, or even think about further. Okay, so that's a lie. I probably will. But we can be almost sure that I will have forgotten about it by the end of this post as I will make no attempt to answer, or even clarify, the question for you, my dear, potential readers*.

The following will be a post in which I will state to you some things which I intend to do, and I hope very much that I actually do them.

THING THE FIRST.

- I will update my blogs more. I have spoken more about this on the Kaffee und Kuchen blog which I keep over on wordpress.com (sorry, blogger). So I'm already doing well with this one!
To be specific, I will try to update this blog every week. Kaffee und Kuchen will undoubtedly be updated less often and less regularly, as it is a writing blog and I do not do much writing anymore. Updates here will not follow any pattern. I guess they never have, so no need for surprise on that count. I will blog about the things I usually blog about: my travels, my studies, the things I've read and the things I've seen. It's called Lily on Life for a reason. The only things I will NOT talk about here are the things I've eaten. There is a dedicated blog about this floating around in the interspace, and while it is as sorely neglected and as sorely in need of updating as any blog of mine you care to mention, I will respect its existence by not even thinking of talking food critique anywhere else.

THING THE SECOND

(I should probably mention here that these THINGS are in no particular order. Now that that is done...)
- I will read more. Reading is a good and laudable activity, and one of my favourite things to do. So, in view of that, I will try to actually do it. A book a week would be the ideal, but I know myself, so I'll make no promises here. Of course, reading more means blogging more because lit corners are my favourite types of blogpost. I have recently picked back up Darkmans, a behemoth of a book which is very post everything. This brings me swiftly to a subthing of Thing Two: I will read the books loved by the people I love. This is not an idea I had all on my own. I would have never thought of such a thing had Johannes Punkt, reviewer of fake books; creator of strange fictions; merchant of words and a general Person de Qualité in a way that the good Abbé Prevost probably never even considered, not come up with it first. Of course, I have read books that my friends have loved before. And I know that they have read books that I have loved, too. But this is because our tastes naturally overlap. Yes, Anna loved American Gods and recommended it to me, but ultimately I read it because I was sure I would enjoy it, too. I read it because I liked it, which is noble and perfectly correct.  But I did not read it because Anna loved it. I read it for myself.

Reading a book that someone else loves, purely for the fact that they love it, is something else entirely. It allows you to become closer to that person in a very small, very strange way. I started reading Darkmans because it was given to me as a present - again, by Anna. It was this that managed to get me almost of a quarter of the way through a book which numbers more than eight hundred pages in total. I picked it back up, because Anna loves this book. I am no longer reading it simply to find the things in it that I can love for myself, although if I find these things, I won't suppress or ignore them. Rather, I am reading to find what Anna might have loved when she first read it. I am reading simply to know that I have done something that she has done, and to enjoy that feeling just as you might enjoy being in a room that someone you loved has spent a lot of time in. I no longer feel a weight on me to enjoy the book as much as or in the same way as Anna has done, which is how I might perhaps feel if this were a simple recommendation. I feel instead that I am putting on a jumper which she has leant to me, despite it being her favourite one. I am feeling honoured that I get to share this book with her.

For the same reason, I intend to pick back up The Magician by Raymond Feist. For the same reason**, I have bought a copy of Sabriel by Garth Nix.

And for the same reason, I hope to finish these books soon.

Moving swiftly on from the depths of my sentiment, which threaten to drown me at any moment, is:

THING THE THIRD

- I will use my languages here, on line, on my blog. I may, every now and again, post something in another language. I may or may not provide translations. Please, do not feel alienated by this. I love languages, but I am not very confident when it comes to producing them. Having my texts out there in all of their gory, grammatically incorrect glory, will hopefully help change this. If you are really offended by posts in different languages, this probably isn't the blog for you, anyway. In addition to posting in the languages I learn, I will also, possibly, post about learning them. The situation is not the same for each language. One I have learnt formally, the rest have been self studied. Some I find easier, some I find much harder. Some I am happier to read in, others to speak in. Some I like more than others... wait. No, I don't... one should not have favourites. Ahem.

THING THE FOURTH before I embarrass myself further and alienate any of my languages

Er, what was the Fourth Thing again? Perhaps there was no Fourth Thing.
In which case:
- I will endeavour to be the best me that I can be, to do all of these things with gusto, because I am sure that I will enjoy them. However, I will also be sure and assured that it is okay for me to make mistakes, that I can skip a week of posting, or that I can post about absolutely nothing if I so wish. I will be sure and assured that this blog is recreational only, and I will not hesitate to run at the first sign of it becoming a chore or a drag. There are times in life when persevering through things you do not enjoy is the right thing to do, things that, really, we ought to continue. This blog is not one of those things. Since my very first post, it has been the place where I come to blather about whatever I like, and I intend to keep it that way. If that means I give it up whenever it becomes too onerous, than so be it. Yes, I may have neglected it for long periods in the past, but I always come back. Because I enjoy writing this blog, and I owe it to myself, as well as to any readers I acquire, to continue writing it as long as I enjoy it.

So, these are the things that I have quietly said to myself I will do, and now I am saying them a little bit louder.

I'll be signing off now, hopefully to see you soon, but before I go I guess I should mention the fact that I GRADUATED.

It has felt long at times, although looking back it feels short, and I haven't always given as much as I should or could have, which I regret. However, I do not regret anything at all from these last two years of study, and I am glad that I have made it this far.

So,
Happy Blogging, y'all!
The ever faithful, in a strange, periodic way,
Little Newman

*You are dear to me, even though you currently exist only in potentia. You will remain dear to me if you shift into real time, but I am afraid to say you will be slightly less shimmery. I am sorry.
** Okay, and because I kind of want to read it anyway, a little bit I guess. And because I saw it for 75p in a charity shop. So sue me.

Oh, what's this thing again?

Hello, all, hello. Well. Urm. It's been a while, hasn't it?

Oops.

And I even started writing two very long posts!

So, what have I done since last May? I visited a château, I left Tours, I goofed around in London, I read books, I received visitors, I studied, I read more books and I went to Sweden again.

And now, here we are, all the way in 2015!
2014 ended pretty well, with my visit to Sweden before Christmas. Two friends came over from France soon after, to celebrate my birthday with me, and I had a princess party!

But, this blog is about none of these things, for this blog is a...
LIT CORNER!

Amazing, I know.

So, I recently finished three books, the perfect number for a Lit Corner.

First was Lexicon, by Max Barry.

I had first come across the book through Goodreads first reads, but sadly I didn't win a copy of the book :( the concept was incredibly interesting - 'poets' who can use words to quite literally force people into following their orders. We're not talking persuasion here, unless it's the kind of persuasion that puts a gun to your head.

So, I liked this book. It wasn't until just before midway through that I realised what was going on: we have two stories being told in parallel: the story of Emily, a young homeless trickster with a way with words, and the story of Wil, an Australian whose day gets seriously interrupted by abduction.

So Barry takes these two people, and weaves a tale where language - where words - are weapons and the bad guy is coming for us, and we have to stop them NOW. This is not Sci-Fi, but I'd hardly call it fantasy, either. It's cleverer than that. It's a thriller, and one that kept me well and truly hooked, but it's also a story about love, and the way that society keeps tabs on and controls us. It's also a lot about being human.

While this was a great book, I feel it could have been executed better. Parts of the ending didn't sit right with me. However, I can't really fault the character building and the ending as a whole, although not perfect, made me contented enough.
Also, the cover is beautiful.

-

The second book I managed to make my way through was The Word Exchange, by Alena Graedon.

Here is another first reads book. I bid for this at about the same time as Lexicon, and although I was more excited by Barry's offering, Graedon's is what I received. The Word Exchange is about a not-too-distant, startlingly familiar future, where devices called Memes (a smarter version of the smart phone) are beginning to do all of our thinking for us and... spread disease?

I was pulled in by yet another gorgeous cover, but somehow found myself being let back out again really quickly. I reviewed it on Goodreads, and here is (roughly) what I said:

I started this book when I received it, several months ago, put it down, and then only very recently picked it back up once more. In all honestly, it's not too difficult to plough through, but that is what it feels like: ploughing through. It's incredibly verbose and full of quite unusual, sometimes ill-advised word choices. Two very ramble-y narrators only make the going tougher.

But the story they tell is compelling, and when I actually applied myself to the task, the reading became much easier. However, I am left with questions which I feel will never be answered, the foremost of which is: how does this disease work? It is central to the plot of the book, and yet aspects of it remain very fuzzy indeed, and not just because Graedon applied Science in order to make it seem more plausible. I mean, okay, I understand how one strand of this disease works, and I can just about lower my plausibility defenses enough to let it pass. But apart from that, I have no clue. None whatsoever. The book leaves off before the characters have managed to reach any solution, which is perfectly fine in general, but here it makes things feel as though they have simply been skimmed over.

My other issue is with the romance. I honestly wanted Bart and Anna to get together, and as characters I believe they suited each other. But the way the romance developed felt so unnatural and false: worse than a case where two characters are simply forced together by a willful and headstrong author is a case where two characters, wonderfully compatible, still feel forced together. It's a massive shame.

Otherwise, the book is an interesting read. It tries, perhaps, to do a bit more than it was capable of - certainly, a book which fails to do all that it is capable of doing - but it still offers quite a pertinent look at the way we use technology, and how this changes the way we use language and interact with the world around us.

--

And, finally, in quite a different vein from the other two is Notes From Underground by Fyodor Dostoevsky.

I have also reviewed this book on Goodreads, and here is more or less what I wrote:

'because I am a cad, because I am the nastiest, most ridiculous, pettiest, stupidest, most envious of all the worms on this earth...' (p.143).

Well, Underground Man, when you put it like that, I'm almost thankful. You said it yourself, now I don't have to.
I wanted to like this book, so very much. I wanted to find it 'hilarious' and engaging, and so much more, but I didn't. I hated the book, and I hated the Underground Man: in his own words, he repulsed me.

But at the same time, he is all of us. Like him, 'we have all got out of the habit of living, we are all in a greater or lesser degree crippled... We have really gone so far as to think of 'real life' as toil, almost as servitude, and we are all agreed, for our part, that it is better in books' (p.151).

Yes, Underground Man, you are right. I do feel that way. And perhaps, Underground Man, what I hate most about you are the things that I see in myself, exaggerated a thousand times. The little insecurities and bitternesses, the pettinesses, the humiliations that we all of us have experienced are put under the microscope by the Underground Man and we have to face everything that we wanted to avoid.

That being said, ignorance is bliss, and I'd be quite happy to never have forced my way through this very short book, and to never, ever have to read it again.

--

Other than these three books, I have also read (since last Lit Corner): A Room of One's Own, by Virginia Woolf, Phaedrus by Plato, Popular by Maya Van Wagenen, Deerskin by Robin McKinley and Let the Old Dreams Die by John Ajvide Lindqvist, but I think you will probably all be sorely deprived of a lit corner on these gems.

So, until next time round,

Happy reading and
Happier blogging,
Little Newman

Am I being a little top-heavy with the language posts? Probably. Oh well. I'm currently reading Manon Lescaut by Abbé Prévost, Memory of Water by Emmi Itäranta and Let the old dreams die by John Ajvide Lindqvist so perhaps you'll get a lit corner or two sooner or later :D

Until then...

As I have mentioned before (quite a few times, I believe,) I am studying abroad in France. My home uni requires that at least fifty percent of my French credits are from literature classes, as I also do comparative literature at home. This means that I have to study French literature at around the same level as French students.

What does this have to do with language learning outside of a university setting? Well, I'll tell you.

I was wondering to myself, while idly trawling the How To Learn Any Language [HTLAL] forums and procrastinating on the essay that I should be writing right now, how writing commentaries would aid in the study of a language.

Writing commentaries, for those who don't know, is a very academic exercise. It involves studying a short extract of a text in great detail - the analysis is meant to be almost scientific. When writing a commentary for English, you are meant to deconstruct word choices, lexical fields, punctuation - all of that - in order to see what they impart on the reader: how do they change the understanding of and the feeling induced by the text? What do they say about the narrator, and what does the narration style tell us about the situation? So on, so forth. It's pretty difficult to do even in English, and in French it's a new beast entirely.

A French commentary wants you to not only analyse all of these things, but also look at the grammar of the text. How can the usage of the passé composé as opposed to the imparfait or the passé simple inform our understanding of such and such moment? So on, so forth.

As you may or may not know, I struggle with grammar. Having never learnt these concepts in English, I find them almost impossible to internalise in other languages as I simply have no point of reference and no familiarity. Forcing myself to pay attention to grammatical structures and grammar in the way that writing a French commentary requires might actually be of some use to me.

Of course, this is all conjecture. I have a book of poésie en prose that I have been struggling to read, but which I quite enjoy, so maybe I'll turn my efforts towards that. At least, I hope to as soon as I finish this essay that I have to write!

Happy essaying!

And happier blogging :D

Little Newman

P.S. - Unrelated. Almost every other weekend, the person who lives above me has a guest (or guests, who knows) whose company xe enjoys rather too much for my personal liking. I feel like going upstairs and complaining XD but I guess they're pretty good when I want to party loudly with all my friends and their mothers, so I haven't much of a right...

Gummy dares!

Yesterday. Yesterday was Eurovision, which can only mean one thing: EUROVISION PARTY!

Actually, in all honesty, yesterday was not only the first Eurovision party I've ever been to, but also the first time I've watched Eurovision in over five years (!!!!)

I know, I'm a bad European.

Also, we missed half of it because what was with that astounding amount of concise they went for? However, we missed half of it for a VERY good reason. The majority of the people I went with were from the UK, so of course we wanted to be as drunk as is possible for what we thought was the only possible outcome: pitiful defeat.

So after a couple of rounds of Cheat where you have to wager an amount of alcohol every time you accuse someone of cheating - get it right, and they're wasted. Get it wrong and you're in trouble - we played gummy dares.

In drinking, I'd say vodka gummy bears are about as right as you can get while still being wrong. Usually you just chuck everything in there and hope for the best - at least, that's what we do. They're sticky and start to melt after a while and feel disgusting, not to mention that they're often far too alcoholic to taste pleasant if you're not already well on your way to drunkendom. All of this, somehow, adds up to greatness. A classic example of the whole being greater than the sum of parts. (Erm...)

And do you want to know a way to make your gummy bears drinking party even better? With gummy dares!

We saturated four colours of gummy bears in raspberry vodka: red, white, yellow and orange. While they were soaking, we all wrote out dares of varying degrees of silliness onto slips of paper, folded them up and put them in a pile. The rules are pretty simple, and they go as follows:

You shut your eyes, dip your hand in the gummy bear bowl, and pick ONE. The colour of gummy bear you pick dictates what you have to do.

Red gummy bears are 'safe'. You have to eat it, but that's all.
White gummy bears are a dare. You have to eat the gummy bear and do a dare.
Yellow gummy bears are a shot. You eat the bear and do your shot, all is well(ish).
Orange gummy bears (which we added at the last second,) are truths. You eat your gummy bear, and you answer a question put forward by the group.

Of course, we provided an out for those who didn't want to do the dares. A friend had come to visit from Paris with a bottle of what she touted as the cheapest, nastiest rum ever. I didn't think it was that bad, but I was definitely among the minority. If you really, really didn't want to do the dare, you had to take a half shot of this rum instead. Of course this only works when you have something god awful to drink, because you want to make ducking out of the dare as unpleasant as possible.

This game was a good amount of fun, although I don't think I'll be able to look at gummy bears for quite some time now. Which is a shame because the rest of them are in my sink.

Happy drinking!
And Happy Blogging!
Little Newman

P.S. Speaking of Eurovision - what was that about?? We were all shocked beyond belief and, as a bunch of English girls in France, just a leetle bit worried about what new levels of French hate our night out would bring!

Sprechen Sie Deutsch? Pratar du svenska?

In my last post I mentioned that I am focusing my active language learning efforts on Swedish and German. First of all, maybe I should explain what it is I mean by 'active'. After all, didn't I say I was going to start actively engaging in French?

Yes, even I'm a little unsure how to sort this tangled mess out.

What I mean is that, by and large, I know French. I can sit in, understand, and pass university level classes. I can get myself around in French. Yes, I find it hard to understand any francophone under the age of twenty five (enunciation, people, it's a Thing!) but the problem isn't so much my vocabulary or understanding of basic grammatical structures as it is my lack of exposure.

In short, (bref, as they say,) I don't feel the need to actively go out and follow courses. My book learning is coming to an end and I what I need now is actual usage.

I cannot say the same with Swedish and German. Yes, I can just about string together a jag heter Lily or a ich will deutsches Bücher auf Deutsch lesen. I can understand quite a lot of written Swedish (and, by extension, Norwegian and Danish), an amount that is most definitely not proportionate to the work I put in. My passive exposure to Swedish means I could probably pick up a few more things with minimal effort. But that's not what I want.

I want to be able to pick up a book in Swedish and know that I won't be looking up every second or third word. I want to understand conversations that happen around me (even if I don't feel comfortable taking part.)

And in German? To be honest, my ambitions are much, much higher. I would like to spend a year in Germany, au pairing. Of course, most host families are more than willing to pay for a language course for their au pairs (and I'm pretty sure that taking such a course is a requirement for German au pairs.) But I would like to reach a B1 level of German before that. And, if it is where life leads me, I wouldn't mind doing my masters in Germany, either. But that, of course, is very dependent on a lot of other things.

I have liked German for a very long time. At first, I liked the entertainment value of German composite words which, admittedly, is not a good reason or motivation to learn any language. But as I grew older, the desire to learn German grew stronger. And then I met actual Germans. I love Germans. I have yet to meet and talk toa German that I truly dislike. There are a lot of stereotypes about Germans and German, especially in the English speaking world that just don't match up to real life (although, that being said, there are also a lot that do!)

I like that, when I talk to Germans, I feel that I am actually, truly being listened too - although that terrifies me also. I don't really have that much to say, certainly not much of importance! And I also love listening to Germans speak! Whether they are speaking English, German or French, I love their accents. Quite different from the harsh and guttural sounds most anglophones produces when imitating or speaking German, I find German speech patterns to be quite soft.

Including that notorious German 'ch'! Maybe one of the reasons it's so often misrepresented by anglophones is because it's so hard for us to get right. N'importe, disais-je, I want to try!

In fact, the only thing I can say I don't love about German right now is the Grammar. But I don't love grammar in any language, so I'm certainly not going to let that put me off!

Despite this entire post so far being something of a love letter to German and Germans, most of my effort actually goes into my Swedish.

I think I mentioned before that I am passively exposed to Swedish quite often, but I actively engage in Swedish more often, too. Sometime last year, I bought myself a copy of John Ajvide Lindqvist's Låt den rätte komma in and I am making (so slow as to almost be negligable) progress through it. I am making fairly heavy use of Lingq's Swedish resources and try to understand Swedish whenever I come across is. I recently watched the Swedish film version of Låt den rätte komma in and I can assure you I was quite ecstatic whenever I caught a word or phrase I understood!

I haven't set myself any concrete goals with regards to Swedish, but as a vague goal I would quite like to be able to understand this clip from Johan Glans 'World Tour of Skåne'. I think that I'm probably, somehow, almost a quarter way there!

(Baby steps, friends, baby steps.)

And for both, I am trying to write things. Just a little bit, just what I can, but I'm trying. I find it much easier to hash out (and hash up) a short few sentences in Swedish or German simply because I am not terrified of awful grammar faux pas as I am in French. After all, it doesn't matter if I'm contravening major grammar rules because I didn't know they existed! Whereas in French I feel like the earth should swallow me up and spit me out in some seventh circle of Daily Mail hell for making the slightest mistake because for goodness sake Lilian, you've been at this language for ten years, shouldn't you know this by now?

As I've said in this and at least one previous post, I am using Lingq* and italki for learning (both Swedish and German), and also Lang8 for writing practice. Feel free to find me there!

Happy learning and
Happier blogging,
Little Newman

*also, for those morally against Lingq's practice of awarding people points for linking to their site, have no fear! That link should be safe! While I'm not against it, I'm not particularly for it either. Any points I'm awarded, I'd rather get through actual work that I do. And also, no puns were intended there, they just sort of happened.

Language marriage counselling

As with all my other interests, my efforts to learn new languages wax and wane.

I have managed to narrow down a pretty impressive 'to learn' list down to two languages: German and Swedish. I have also decided to actively fall back in love with French.

To be honest, I'm not sure when I fell out of love with French. Perhaps the process started long ago, when I failed in finding an interesting piece of original language French young adult literature - not just English books in translation. No matter when the process started, it really became apparent to me this year. I've barely made any efforts to speak French in my everyday life, meaning that my conversational skills are more than below par. Write a detailed analyses on what Casanova's changes of verb tenses reveal about his personality and mood in Histoire de ma vie? No problem! Explain, in detail, why I think that I can't really say that I know anything about the current political status of Libya due to the biases and underlying motives of English news and media? I could practically do that in my sleep. But hold a conversation with a couple of teenage girls who I like and whose company I enjoy? Slow down, good sir, you go too far!

Part of the problem is a lack of vocabulary. It's all very well and good to try and look up the vocabulary of casual conversation, but this is an area where I am to be found lacking even in English. I analyse most of my conversation and realise I rarely say anything of substance. It's a fact that most of what passes between my friends and I as conversations are silly in-jokes based on meaningless phrases and past interactions with others and... faces. I make a lot of very stupid faces. Somehow I feel that this won't go far to developing my ability to make either friends or conversation in French.

The problem persists. No matter how many times my roommate and I say we will talk in French, we never succeed. Over the course of the past academic year, we have only had two conversations in French, and they were both short. And she ticks all the boxes: she's French, we get along and have similar interests, and I like her so much that she accompanied me on my last trip back home, which resulted in my family demanding that she come back to visit them in the summer.

So what can I do? Apart from attending ever more language exchanges, where there is the occasional chance of my finding a francophone with whom I can easily and freely speak French?

I'm going to interact much more with French culture, that's what. 'But Lilian, you have spent a year in immersion!' Yes, random observer, yes I have. And during that single year I have made more friends than I have in the rest of my life, all of whom speak English to a native level (if not natively), and with whom I am, at most, only going to speak very bad franglais.

So I will watch more in French. I will try to read more in French (because at my level, reading French should not be as much of a chore as it is). I am going to actively try to find people to speak French with. To that end, I have joined italki, a website that allows language learners to find either conversation exchange partners or teachers willing to help them learn their chosen language. I am trying to become an active member on the How to Learn Any Language forums for the moral support and encouragement of other language-learners (although becoming an active member of any forum is something I find difficult.) I have also found a French series that, so far, I enjoy. It is called Les Revenants, or The Returned, and it has been popular enough to be remade for English television. It's about a small town where the dead are coming back to life, and other supernatural phenomena is building up, also. It's quite difficult in places, with emotionally charged scenes - I'm sure you can imagine the kind of turmoil a family would be going through on their young daughter, dead for four years, returning home without realising that a thing has changed. Harrowing, indeed. But very good.

Finally, I will try writing some more. I am sad to say that creative writing in French is still far out of my reach, but I reckon I could manage a blog post here and there. Then again, I can barely do that in English!

As for my other two languages, Swedish and German? I'll guess I'll have to save that until next time.

Happy language learning and
Happy Blogging!
Little Newman


P.S., for any French language learners looking to improve their listening skills with interesting and amusing native content, try either Cyprien on YouTube or WorkinGirls. Both of them are quite challenging, WorkinGirls far more so than Cyprien, but the entertainment factor is high and makes it all the more worth the effort!

A farewell to Tours

With only one month left in Tours, I'm starting to think of and see all the things I'll miss when I'm gone. Most of all, I'll miss the people: I've made friends from across Europe and the world, and it's with sadness that I admit that I probably won't be seeing many of them again.

But I'll also miss the town. Now that there has been more sun, I'm exploring a bit more - being the sort of creature that prefers to hibernate through the winter. Here are just a few pictures of springtime in Tours.

A gorgeous and mostly abandoned building we stumbled across on a walk.

A quiet spot by the Loire.

The Hôtel de Ville and Jean Jaurès.

The Loire by night - a beautiful scene that inspired some serious awe to rush up within me.

And summer flowers in the pristine Jardin de Prébendes d'Oé, a park that is like a minuscule version of the town itself.

I'll miss all of these things and more, but I'm excited to rediscover London, and to travel through more of Europe.

Happy blogging and happier travelling!

Little Newman

Culture/elle : film

So there has been a profound lack of content where there should be posts. I will blame this on being home and being sick. The culture has sort of fallen out of my life a bit, so here is a post from last month that I wrote and then... Well. Forgot to post.

I went to the cinema with a few friends - sadly not the studio cinema - to see two films in one week. Madness, I know! Here's my write up on them both. Mea Culpa - the first film - was actually really sad and quite harrowing with an ending that wasn't happy but was very good. With some distance between me and the film I can see a major hole in the plot where an explanation should be, but I'm not sure if that's just because I was finding it a bit difficult to follow at the start.

The very next day, we saw the new version of La Belle et la Bête. Of course I was prepared to love it from the start, being a fan of all things fairy tale, and my feelings were not betrayed. The film was gorgeous - delicious scenes of greenery and stone and rose petals, and all in all it reminded of everything I love about fairy tale illustration. The relationship between Bell and the Beast did feel as though it was moving way too fast: the director did not make any use at all of those wonderful cinematographic techniques that indicate the passing of time and this really affected my reception of the story. Talking to my friends afterwards, it would appear that I was not the only one. I also had a problem with the Beast's curse - it was a plot point, and to an extent it was thought out, but not nearly well enough to satisfy close scrutiny. But that apart, it was a film I loved, and I would wholeheartedly recommend it to anyone thinking to go and see it :)

So, old post aside, last week saw us getting some sun. And I do like a bit of sun! Especially here in Tours :) I've done a lot of sitting by the river and drinks outside of cafés, which has been nice.

I also passed through Paris again. Here is Gare d'Austerlitz, photographed at around eight in the morning on the walk across from Gare de Lyon.

It is not very clear, but it the bottom of the photograph is a boat upon which there appeared to be a party that was still going on. In retrospect, that seemed to be most of what I saw in Paris that morning.

Little Newman

Over and out!

Scandilands

Midway through last month, I made my first foray into Scandinavia. I stayed in Sweden's south-west, near Malmö, and it was gorgeous.

I moved to France last September, to a tiny town called Tours, in the Centre region of France. I won't withhold the town it's charms - it is beautiful in the sun and there are a ton of chateaus and museums to visit round about. But it is a very difficult place to travel from. By plane, I can get to five destinations pretty easily - London, Manchester, Dublin (sometimes), Marseille and Morocco. To get anywhere else, pretty much the only way is through Paris.

So I took my almost two hour journey up to Paris, wondering the whole time why the engines of French trains, even the fancy and costly express service I was on, sound more like something you'd find on a plane. (I still don't know why this is. Another French phenomena to add to the list.)

I was met at Gare Montparnasse by a friend who had recently moved to Paris, and we took the métro back to her place.

I'd always imagined that my first trip to Paris would be a little more touristy but sadly this was not possible. I managed to be impressed only by the long walk from Gare Montparnasse to Montparnasse Bienvenüe, the métro stop.

Above, my photography skills exerted on Montparnasse.

I stayed one night with my friend, quietly with a pizza and Archer and the next day she left for work and, with some delay, I left to get my plane.

I was very worried about everything, to be honest. I'd never been to Paris before, wasn't quite confident about how I was getting to the airport, nor how long it would take and the airline I was flying with didn't allow me to check in online.

And then, to top it all off, I got back to Montparnasse, where I was getting a coach to the airport, and realised I had left my card in my friend's appartment.

Honestly, I could have cried. I was imagining all the things that could go wrong, all the charges I could possibly be subject to. My friend was at work, and probably would be there until late: there was no way for me to get my card back.

I made my way to the coach stop, hoping my poorly printed ticket would be accepted. It was, but that, in some ways was another layer of worry: what if I got to the airport only to find out that I couldn't board if I hadn't checked in online? That I had to pay something like Ryan air's 70€ late check in fine? No coach ride should be so fraught with worry.

I arrived at the ghost town that is Paris Orly Airports after dark well before check in opened, which only gave me more time in which to worry and be nervous. I seemed to see some people with official looking documents that I didn't have - did I need them?

I was so nervy when check in finally opened and I got to the desk that my French and my English both failed me and the attendant looked on at me with obvious pity.

But I made it through. It was kind of shocking, after the wasteland of dead space I'd become used to, to be in Orly's boarding lounge with it's reading area, games room and banks of computers for public use, but it was the kind of shock I could definitely get used to!

Boarding went almost smoothly - except for when the boarding gate was changed without any announcement being made - but even when I was on my plane with it's fairly plush seats and free wifi for all passengers I couldn't properly relax.

My arrival in Copenhagen marked the end of step two of my journey. Although the plane landed early, it was still about eleven, and I was by no means close to port.

I felt a moment's reprieve from the stress of the day as I got into arrivals and saw my partner waiting for me, but it didn't last long - we barely had time to hug before we were rushing to catch the train across the Öresund bridge and into Sweden. Sadly it was dark, and so I was unable to pay any attention the this beautiful journey, but I'm hoping to get more opportunities in the future.

My stay in Sweden wasn't very touristy. My partner took me to his favourite spots in Lund and Malmö and I marvelled at a country that functions even when it snows.

The Kings Park in Malmö, so called because it's the grounds of a castle. Possibly the least castle-y castle I've ever seen: from a distance it looks like one of those fire stations built in the sixties that are scattered around London. I'm sure up close it would be much more impressive.

I'm a person who is always impressed with waterways. Having grown up with the Thames, which is probably one of the ugliest rivers I've ever seen, it was nice to see such a beautiful, clean, large waterway - with ducks! London's canals are lovely, yes, but I was charmed by Malmö.

My stay was only too short, and I would love to wonder around Sweden some more in the near future, to see more of the towns of Lund and Malmö as well as the much smaller town where my partner lives.

So, fingers crossed for the future!