Tuesday, August 15, 2006

The three weeks
Succeeded in purchasing exiting thing which is the travel kettle shortly before Dorset. Travel kettle is very, very sweet, and came avec (yes, I know this annoys you James) two small plastic cups.One of plastic cups was stolen and used to drink spirits by evil, evil, evil prelim people who did not return them. (First they stole them and returned them without washing them, having been drinking whiskey, then they just stole one and a mug). It actually looks rather like small black thing of Rome fame, but as a kettle.
Maintained insane working hours from last year, although this year they were rather worsened by tutor. Woman who believed that the death of Patroclus was...
light relief
and what we did in the afternoons for fun. Yes, that's the bleakest bit of the Iliad. The one used as an example of pathos. And it actually is light relief from the Antigone, because no one marries death. It is also not quite as amazing as Antigone, because Homer, unlike Sophocles, is not my small tragedian friend.
Also saw many people and much wearing of yellow. Avoided bizarre situations of last summer, and instead just ended up standing in corridors with the same being told that I really wasn't gay, and asked why I was. Le pauvre seems somewhat fascinated by the subject, and believes that all women are evil and seductive. Am eternally scarred from having seen that production of Aristophanes (very amusing but also worrying).

Oh, and waltzed on tennis courts with J on last night.

But in short, yes, 'twas as amazing as ever, and I was in a class with someone called Octavian.

Then went to France, which was very nice actually. Avoided Cathedrals a fair bit (there are far too many in the south of France) found amazing fairytale type castle in Carcassonne, a strange town in which everywhere is closed) and attempted to "aller au Discoteque" (because of Encore Tricolore) and saw very nice paintings inside the Capitole in Toulouse.

And wonder of wonders, Fabre's house! (In Carcassonne, now a bank, but there is a photograph). Which was lovely and depressing. I feel rather as though Capitalism has crushed the French Revolution, but it means there are only two left for me to see, plus Arras. I'll be annoyed if Camille's house is a shop or bank, but rather vindicated if Georges').

Gawain calls. M says hallo.

2 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

Excitement. My life is dull as ever, with the sole differenc that there is nobody in the country to comment on it.

My apologies for the complete failure to send a letter to Bryanston. I have no excuse and am thus a Bad Person.

I probably ought to begin an email exchange with you, but am somewhat harrassed and at a loss for time at the present moment as I have 3 bits of coursework somehow left over to do, and am going away to Cornwall come Sunday, after a 3 day journalism course...

Much love, KC xxx

4:41 PM  
Blogger Juliet Evans said...

I am amused that your Bryanstonian andecdotes consist mainly of Tales of The Travel Kettle. Homer is nobody's small tragedian friend. Have you read Anouilh's Antigone? 'tis brilliant. Le pauvre is Bernard?

I want to be called Octavian. My family are currently addressing me as Ethelbert

Hope all the various essays etc are gong well. Glad you have fun. And I might add that at this point you have completely failed to text me with results, dammit.

Still stuck in cornwall. Inernet access from Goonilly= BT sattellite station. Withering away. See you soon.

8:27 AM  

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