i stedet for det fade enighed:
"Sam-drægtig-hed, en. ved Samdrægtighed voxe smaa, og ved Usamdrægtighed falde store Ting. Holb.MTkr.498. et Samfund uden Samdrægtighed. Blich.(1920).XI. 198. der skulde opkomme Tvedragt og Partier, medens nu den hele Slægt lever i Samdrægtighed og Egalitet ligeoverfor Løftet. Kierk.V.44. OBloch.D.2I.29. det er Mennesker tienligere at trette og tviste, end ligesom umælende Creature at leve udi en brutal Samdrægtighed. Holb.MTkr.501 (jf. JLange.Breve.121). "
- og en anden gang - denne gang var der HÅNSK tale om skøn samdrægtighed - skal jeg helt klart stjæle Holbergs vending "brutal samdrægtighed"
Viser opslag med etiketten Ludvig Holberg. Vis alle opslag
Viser opslag med etiketten Ludvig Holberg. Vis alle opslag
fredag den 13. oktober 2017
onsdag den 10. juni 2015
Danske Carroll-links (Alice-føljeton d)
Uklart om Lewis Carroll har læst Niels Klim, men han havde muligheden for at gøre det og kombinationen af omstændeligt-falde-ned-i-hul og spise-kage forbinder sig så fint - har virkelig ingen fået øje på det før - med Alice:
"Modern science fiction provided Carroll with a more recent set of narratives to play with, because pltos in which characters fell to the centre of the earth, og discovered strange new civilisations underground, were increasingly popular in the nineteenth century. Earlier examples had included Ludvig Holbergs utopian satire Niels Klim's Journey Under the Ground (an English tranlastion was published in 1845), which begins when the hero´s rope gives way and he falls into an abyss, although he still has enough time to take a cake out of his pocket and eat it; and Jacques Casanova's five-volume Icosameron (1787), notable chiefly for a creepy plot that features twelve-year-old twins who marry and procreate, and multicoloured hermaphroditic dwarfs who feed by sucking on each other's breasts."
Et andet dansk link, ikke direkte til Alice. ("these ideas" er ideer om omskiftelig alders-identitet):
"Other kinds of writing offered Carroll tempting opportunities to play with these ideas. In january 1867, he read The Fountain of Youth (af Frederik Paludan Müller! LB), a Danish fairy tale published by Macmillan that had been reviewed alongside Alice's Adventures in Wonderland in The Scotsman at the end of 1866 and that carried a full-page advertisment for his book. The story revolves around a gnarled Spanish solider who follows Columbus to America, 'the distant land of gold and wonder', and there finds 'fountain of life' in which wounds are healed and withered flowers borught back to perfumed loveliness. After taking a dip in the fountain, he sleeps for several days, and on awakening discovers that he has been restored to his youthful prime, although with predictably unhappy results: his children fail to recognize him, his wife rejects him, and he realizes that although many people dream of housing a young heart in an old body, this trick does not work the other way around. Recoiling in horror after becoming 'a stranger to himself', he is forced to wait for his blooming exteriot ro catch up with his crabbed insides."
"Modern science fiction provided Carroll with a more recent set of narratives to play with, because pltos in which characters fell to the centre of the earth, og discovered strange new civilisations underground, were increasingly popular in the nineteenth century. Earlier examples had included Ludvig Holbergs utopian satire Niels Klim's Journey Under the Ground (an English tranlastion was published in 1845), which begins when the hero´s rope gives way and he falls into an abyss, although he still has enough time to take a cake out of his pocket and eat it; and Jacques Casanova's five-volume Icosameron (1787), notable chiefly for a creepy plot that features twelve-year-old twins who marry and procreate, and multicoloured hermaphroditic dwarfs who feed by sucking on each other's breasts."
Et andet dansk link, ikke direkte til Alice. ("these ideas" er ideer om omskiftelig alders-identitet):
"Other kinds of writing offered Carroll tempting opportunities to play with these ideas. In january 1867, he read The Fountain of Youth (af Frederik Paludan Müller! LB), a Danish fairy tale published by Macmillan that had been reviewed alongside Alice's Adventures in Wonderland in The Scotsman at the end of 1866 and that carried a full-page advertisment for his book. The story revolves around a gnarled Spanish solider who follows Columbus to America, 'the distant land of gold and wonder', and there finds 'fountain of life' in which wounds are healed and withered flowers borught back to perfumed loveliness. After taking a dip in the fountain, he sleeps for several days, and on awakening discovers that he has been restored to his youthful prime, although with predictably unhappy results: his children fail to recognize him, his wife rejects him, and he realizes that although many people dream of housing a young heart in an old body, this trick does not work the other way around. Recoiling in horror after becoming 'a stranger to himself', he is forced to wait for his blooming exteriot ro catch up with his crabbed insides."
onsdag den 5. oktober 2011
J-E-A-N
Triptykon i anledning af uddelingen af Albertine-Prisen til René Jean Jensen 5. oktober, 2011 på Forfatterskolen
Motto af Jean Paul (muligvis eneste tyskskrivende digter, der hedder Jean):
Jeder Mensch glaubt, er sei unter allen der wichtigste, der beste; aber nur der Narr und der Dummkopf haben den Mut, es zu sagen.
1. JEAN DE FRANCE af Ludvig Holberg (hidtil navnkundigste Jean i dansk litteratur) – 3. scene, 1. akt
3. H.C.. Andersens eventyr HJERTESORG oversat til engelsk af Jean Hersholt (1886-1956, dansk skuespiller i Hollywood, der oversatte samtlige HCA’s eventyr)
HEARTBREAK
The story we have for you here is really divided into two parts. The first part could be omitted, but it gives us some preliminary information which is useful.
We were staying at a manor house in the country, and it happened that the owner was absent for a day or so. Meanwhile a lady with a pug dog arrived from the next town; come, she explained, to dispose of the shares in her tannery. She had her certificates with her, and we advised her to seal them in an envelope and to write on it the address of the proprietor of the estate, "General War Commissary, Knight," etc.
She listened to us, took up the pen, then hesitated, and begged us to repeat the address slowly. We complied and she wrote, but in the middle of the "General War--" she stopped, sighed, and said, "I'm only a woman!" While she wrote, she had placed her Puggie on the floor, and he was growling, for the dog had come with her for pleasure and health's sake, and a visitor shouldn't be placed on the floor. He was characterized outwardly by a snub nose and a fleshy back.
"He doesn't bite," said the woman. "He hasn't any teeth. He's like one of the family, faithful and grouchy; but the latter is the fault of my grandchildren for teasing him. They play wedding, and want to make him the bridesmaid, and that's too strenuous for the poor old fellow."
Then she delivered her certificates and took Puggie up in her arms. And that's the first part of the story, which could have been omitted.
Puggie died! That's the second part.
About a week later we arrived in the town and put up at the inn. Our windows looked out into the tannery yard, which was divided into two parts by a wooden fence; in one section were hides and skin caps, raw and tanned. Here was all the equipment for carrying on a tanning business, and it belonged to the widow. Puggie had died that morning and was to be buried in this section of the yard. The widow's grandchildren (that is, the tanner's widow's, for Puggie had never married) covered the grave-a grave so beautiful it must have been quite pleasant to lie there.
The grave was bordered with broken flowerpots and strewn over with sand; at its head they had stuck up a small beer bottle with the neck upward, and that wasn't at all symbolic.
The children danced around the grave, and then the oldest of the boys, a practical youngster of seven, proposed that there should be an exhibition of Puggie's grave for everybody living in the street. The price of admission would be one trouser button; that was something every boy would be sure to have and which he also could give to the little girls. This suggestion was adopted by acclamation.
And all the children from the street, and even from the little lane behind, came, and each gave a button. Many were seen that afternoon going about with one suspender, but then they had seen Puggie's grave, and that sight was worth it.
But outside the tannery yard, close to the entrance, stood a ragged little girl, very beautiful, with the prettiest curly hair, and eyes so clear and blue that it was a pleasure to look into them. She didn't say a word, nor did she cry, but every time the gate was opened she looked into the yard as long as she could. She had no button, as she knew very well, so she had to stand sorrowfully outside, until all the others had seen the grave and everyone had left. Then she sat down, put her little brown hands before her eyes, and burst into tears, for she alone hadn't seen Puggie's grave. It was a heartache as great as any grown-up can experience.
We saw this from above-and seen from above, this, like many of our own and others' griefs could, made us smile! That's the story, and anyone who doesn't understand it can go and buy a share in the widow's tannery.
Jean Hersholt
Motto af Jean Paul (muligvis eneste tyskskrivende digter, der hedder Jean):
Jeder Mensch glaubt, er sei unter allen der wichtigste, der beste; aber nur der Narr und der Dummkopf haben den Mut, es zu sagen.
1. JEAN DE FRANCE af Ludvig Holberg (hidtil navnkundigste Jean i dansk litteratur) – 3. scene, 1. akt
JEAN : La la la la la la. Nu kommer jeg ikke ihu den bougre de pagrad, som jeg lærte sidst af Monsieur Blondis; pardi, det er en grand malleur. Mais voilá mon père et mon Sviger-Père; bon matin, Messieurs ! comment vive ma chere Isabelle?
JERONIMUS : Hør, min god Hans Frandsen! Jeg er fød i Christen Bernikovs Stræde, min Fader ligesaa. Der har aldrig nogen Isabelle eller Fidelle været i vort Huus; jeg hedder Jeronimus Christophersen og min Datter Elsebeth med Gud og Æren.
JEAN: Det er alt det samme, mon cher Sviger-Papa: Elsebet, Isabelle eller Belle; alene det sidste er det meer fornemme.
JERONIMUS: Hvo der kalder min Datter Belle, skal have med mig at bestille; thi det er et Hundenavn. Vil I ikke kalde os ved vore Christne-Navne, kan I see Jer om et andet Svogerskab. Jeg er en gammeldags ærlig Borger, og lider ikke saadanne nye Allamoder, forstaar mig heller ikke paa saadan høitraven Parlering.
JEAN: Pardonnez moi! Mon cher Sviger-Papa! Man siger aldrig nye Allamoder (…) c’est ne pas bon Parisisk, c’est Bas-Breton, pardi, La la la la. Dette er det nyeste Menuet, composé par le Sieur Blondis. Pardi, det er en habile homme, le plus grand Dantze-maitre en Europa. Hedder ikke Dantze-Maitre paa Dansk ogsaa Dantze-Maitre ? Jeg oublieret ganske mit Dansk dans Paris.
JERONIMUS: Det er Skade, at I har ikke glemt hvert Bogstav; thi nu kan hverken Dansk eller Fransk forstaa Jer. Havde I biet 14 Dage længer i Paris, havde I vel ogsaa glemt Jer Navn.
JEAN: No ma foi, jeg glemmer aldrig saa let, at jeg hedder Jean de France, non pardi non.
JEAN: No ma foi, jeg glemmer aldrig saa let, at jeg hedder Jean de France, non pardi non.
FRANDS; Jean de France nong Paradis nong, er det Hans Frandsen på Dansk? Det Sprog maa være mere rigt end vores.
JERONIMUS: Det var bedre, i Steden for at spørge mig om Saadant, at I gav Eders Søn et par Ørefigen paa hans Pandebrask.
JEAN: Messieurs! Je demande pardon, jeg maa gaae ; vi Parisiens kan ikke være længe paa eet Steds. La la la la la la. Jeg maa hen og see mig lidt om á la Greve. Adieu si long!
[Gaaer ud.]
[Gaaer ud.]
2. Jean vs. Jean, en navneremse
Jean-Luc Godard
Jean Harlow
Wyclef Jean
Jean M. Auel
Jean Baudrillard
Jean Seberg
Jean Renoir
Jean Rhys
Jean Sibelius
Jean-Luc Godard
Jean Harlow
Wyclef Jean
Jean M. Auel
Jean Baudrillard
Jean Seberg
Jean Renoir
Jean Rhys
Jean Sibelius
Jean Smart
Jean-Paul Sartre
Jean Stapleton
Jean Racine
Jean-Paul Sartre
Jean Stapleton
Jean Racine
Jean Shrimpton
Jean Cocteau
Jean Simmons
Jean Genet
Jean Genie
Jean Genet
Jean Genie
HEARTBREAK
The story we have for you here is really divided into two parts. The first part could be omitted, but it gives us some preliminary information which is useful.
We were staying at a manor house in the country, and it happened that the owner was absent for a day or so. Meanwhile a lady with a pug dog arrived from the next town; come, she explained, to dispose of the shares in her tannery. She had her certificates with her, and we advised her to seal them in an envelope and to write on it the address of the proprietor of the estate, "General War Commissary, Knight," etc.
She listened to us, took up the pen, then hesitated, and begged us to repeat the address slowly. We complied and she wrote, but in the middle of the "General War--" she stopped, sighed, and said, "I'm only a woman!" While she wrote, she had placed her Puggie on the floor, and he was growling, for the dog had come with her for pleasure and health's sake, and a visitor shouldn't be placed on the floor. He was characterized outwardly by a snub nose and a fleshy back.
"He doesn't bite," said the woman. "He hasn't any teeth. He's like one of the family, faithful and grouchy; but the latter is the fault of my grandchildren for teasing him. They play wedding, and want to make him the bridesmaid, and that's too strenuous for the poor old fellow."
Then she delivered her certificates and took Puggie up in her arms. And that's the first part of the story, which could have been omitted.
Puggie died! That's the second part.
About a week later we arrived in the town and put up at the inn. Our windows looked out into the tannery yard, which was divided into two parts by a wooden fence; in one section were hides and skin caps, raw and tanned. Here was all the equipment for carrying on a tanning business, and it belonged to the widow. Puggie had died that morning and was to be buried in this section of the yard. The widow's grandchildren (that is, the tanner's widow's, for Puggie had never married) covered the grave-a grave so beautiful it must have been quite pleasant to lie there.
The grave was bordered with broken flowerpots and strewn over with sand; at its head they had stuck up a small beer bottle with the neck upward, and that wasn't at all symbolic.
The children danced around the grave, and then the oldest of the boys, a practical youngster of seven, proposed that there should be an exhibition of Puggie's grave for everybody living in the street. The price of admission would be one trouser button; that was something every boy would be sure to have and which he also could give to the little girls. This suggestion was adopted by acclamation.
And all the children from the street, and even from the little lane behind, came, and each gave a button. Many were seen that afternoon going about with one suspender, but then they had seen Puggie's grave, and that sight was worth it.
But outside the tannery yard, close to the entrance, stood a ragged little girl, very beautiful, with the prettiest curly hair, and eyes so clear and blue that it was a pleasure to look into them. She didn't say a word, nor did she cry, but every time the gate was opened she looked into the yard as long as she could. She had no button, as she knew very well, so she had to stand sorrowfully outside, until all the others had seen the grave and everyone had left. Then she sat down, put her little brown hands before her eyes, and burst into tears, for she alone hadn't seen Puggie's grave. It was a heartache as great as any grown-up can experience.
We saw this from above-and seen from above, this, like many of our own and others' griefs could, made us smile! That's the story, and anyone who doesn't understand it can go and buy a share in the widow's tannery.
Jean Hersholt
Abonner på:
Opslag (Atom)
