The Virtual Stoa

Stephen Pollard isn’t just an expert on cycling (”the team element is missing”, etc.). He also has sophisticated opinions on postwar European cinema. Here he is, for example, discussing the films of Ingmar Bergman. It’s already been labelled “the dumbest thing I’ve ever read” by one of the cinéphiles over at the Criterion Forum.

I should say that I’ve not seen much Bergman: Wild Strawberries once upon a time, and lengthy snippets of The Seventh Seal. So it’s just, just possible that I might agree with Pollard were I to see the rest of the oeuvre (which I’d like to do). But given that he lumps Bergman in with James Joyce and Harrison Birtwistle — my favourite novelist and one of my favourite living composers respectively — somehow I doubt that he and I are going to end up seeing eye to eye on this one, as on so much else. [Yo, bro.]

UPDATE, UPDATE: The same brother reminds me I’ve also seen Bergman’s Magic Flute (and it’s stupid of me to forget this, as I’ve got the DVD at home), which is just fantastic. And it probably has the best Pantomime Walrus in cinema history. YouTube clips over here, though I’m not sure they’ve got the PW in there.

2d UPDATE: And here he is, the darling:

[images nicked from over here]

Wang Hongwen, Chinese communist and youngest member of the Gang of Four; born around 1934; arrested in 1976 and sentenced to death, commuted to life imprisonment; died 3 August 1992.

(What follows is pretty trivial, so I really don’t recommend you read it.)

One of the things I come across from time to time is people - especially young people - using the word “refute” to mean “disagree with”, “oppose” or “deny” rather than, as the OED neatly puts it, “to disprove, overthrow by argument, prove to be false.” (Indeed, the OED notes the incorrect usage, and labels it incorrect, with a series of examples that I’ve placed over the fold.) (I’m sure there’s someone out there who thinks that postmodernism is something to do with this, but that’s a conversation for another occasion.)

Anyway, this Summer, Le Monde has a daily feature revisiting past controversies that have beset what it calls the “intelligentsia hexagonale“. So this week we’ve had discussions of the bicentenaire, Heidegger, the Bibliothèque Nationale, and today (i.e., the issue dated vendredi) we’ve had the affaire du foulard in its original 1989 incarnation. And it’s in this last piece that we find this:

Dès le 24 octobre, Guy Coq, membre du comité de rédaction de la revue Esprit, pousse un premier cri d’alarme dans les colonnes du Monde. Il réfute l’argument de la différence culturelle à respecter. C’est le maintien même de la tolérance qui “périrait si les diverses communautés religieuses entraient en compétition pour s’emparer de l’espace laïque de l’école, pour en briser l’unité, pour y manifester non pas l’esprit d’accueil pour chaque individu en lui-même, comme simple humain, mais le signe de la clôture de chaque communauté contre les autres”.

Now unless my French is even worse than I think it is (which is wholly possible), that looks suspiciously like using “réfuter” to mean “deny”, i.e., following the incorrect English usage of “refute”. So is this because the French verb has a broader meaning than its English equivalent, ranging all the way from “deny” to “disprove”, or is the same bad habit that the Anglophones have developed shared by Francophones? And, if so, has it spread from England to France or vice versa, or is it properly autochthonous in both linguistic communities (if that’s not too pretentious an expression to use)?

I may just be barking up the wrong tree, or just barking. But any thoughts are more than welcome.

(more…)

There’s not enough cheese-blogging in these parts, so here goes.

I’m eating a lot of cheese while I’m in France, and one thing I’m noticing is that if I eat a lot of cheese in the evening, I have weird dreams. Not bad dreams — which I get if I drink red wine too soon before bedtime — just distinctively weird dreams. I can’t report on the content of any of these (you’ll be relieved to hear), because I have almost invariably forgotten the content of my dreams by the time I’m washed / showered / shaved / breakfasted / caffeinated in the morning. But they are weird.

Here’s information from the British Cheese Board blog on the subject, though in their less than cosmopolitan way they are only concerned with the effect that British Cheese has on dreaming.

UPDATE [8/8]: The nonbloggishblog has more.

Edward Aveling, English socialist; Eleanor Marx’s partner, and a participant in the English translation of Capital. From the ODNB:

Notorious both for the debts which he habitually incurred and for his numerous affairs with women, Aveling was widely regarded as being without scruples in his private life. The many accounts of his repulsive physical appearance are not borne out by surviving photographs and seem to be informed more by the ‘moral dread’ which he occasioned in some people than by his unremarkable features. William Morris’s daughter called him a ‘little lizard of a man’ and Olive Schreiner said that he looked like an illicit diamond buyer. According to Hyndman, ‘nobody can be as bad as Aveling looks’.

He was born in Stoke Newington, 29 November 1849, and died in Battersea, 2 August 1898.