My son Ben (philosophy major) left this bit of Democritus on our kitchen countertop not long ago.
[Pencil on cardboard.]
"Of practical wisdom these are the three fruits: to deliberate well, to speak to the point, to do what is right."
(Thanks, Ben!)
“Off the streets and out of trouble”
My son Ben (philosophy major) left this bit of Democritus on our kitchen countertop not long ago.
[Pencil on cardboard.]
"Of practical wisdom these are the three fruits: to deliberate well, to speak to the point, to do what is right."
By Michael Leddy at 6:37 AM comments: 2
Dave Gathman wondered how the mail works:
Every time I dropped a letter into a mailbox (usually a bill payment that had to get there fast, or my interest rate would shoot up to 33 percent), questions lingered. Would the letter get there just as fast if I mail it at the corner "blue box" as it would if I mailed it at the post office? Would a letter mailed in the little Hampshire post office arrive as soon as one mailed in downtown Elgin? Is it true, as someone once told my mother-in-law, that "mail doesn't move on weekends?"Read all about it:
So we did some experimenting.
By Michael Leddy at 8:17 AM comments: 2
From a Flickr photoset by Quinn Dombrowski:
University of Chicago: Library Graffiti
[Photograph licensed under a Creative Commons License.]
A related post
Graffiti (in Hyde Park)
By Michael Leddy at 8:57 AM comments: 0
"His demeanor is both proud and slightly confused, as he squints against the bright sunlight."
William C. Carter, Marcel Proust: A Life (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2000), 753.
[Marcel Proust, photographed April 21, 1921.]
Related reading
All Proust posts (via Pinboard)
By Michael Leddy at 8:02 AM comments: 0
William C. Carter, ed., The Memoirs of Ernest A. Forssgren, Proust's Swedish Valet. New Haven: Yale University Press, 2006. $50.
This story constitutes a small part from the life of a sad, embittered old man who wasted his life, who lives ONLY by virtue of a still vigorous sense of HUMOR.It has been a strange pleasure to read this bit of Proustiana. Ernest Forssgren was with Marcel Proust briefly in 1914 and 1915, before leaving France for the United States. His memoir, "The Mysterious Visit," ninety-three double-spaced typed pages, written in English in 1965, draws its title from a failed attempt to arrange a last meeting with Proust in 1922.
Ernest A. Forssgren, in the epilogue to his memoir
"That charming little story you wrote about you and your sister getting lost in the woods, picking berries, the thunderstorm that frightened you, and you saving your sister from drowning — it is such a charming little story I would like to have it published. When you wrote it did you have to consult the La Rousse [Larousse] (dictionary) for the spelling? I noticed that it was perfect."Carter's reality-based corrections and notes form an amusing counterpoint to Forssgren's errors and fanciful tales. Here, for instance, Carter corrects "La Rousse," points out Forssgren's habit of misspelling French words, notes the absence of any evidence that Proust took an interest in Forssgren's writing, and comments on Proust's use of French dictionaries and his translations of John Ruskin. "A conversation about English versus French with Proust would have been quite different from the one Forssgren relates," says Carter, dryly.
"No, I did not. That is the great advantage of the Latin languages; after you have learned all the rules thoroughly, you need never consult a dictionary, like you constantly have to do with the idiotic English spelling. Once you have learned the orthography of a Latin language and its grammatical rules you have no need of a dictionary. As for the English language, it reflects the character and nature of its people. Like the French reflects a refined, cultured and artistic people. It is said that language reflects a nation's psyche, its soul and character. English reflects a conservative nation reluctant of change, and though the language like all languages has gone through changes, the English have been slow in following up with reform in spelling. As an example, the obsolete GH was the Saxon's equivalent of the German CH, but was eventually slurred over and dropped, but the spelling retained. The Scotch humorous, 'it is a brah bright moonlight night tonight' is an example of the correct spelling and the original punctuation."
"Where did you learn all that"? MP asked.
"At Prince Orloff's I came across a volume dealing with the origin of language. I looked it over rather superficially. I am not too well versed, but I shall take it up again in connection with my further studies."
By Michael Leddy at 9:01 AM comments: 0
"There are only four outdoor phone booths left in Manhattan — and they're all on West End Avenue. That's it: four."
(via Daring Fireball)
By Michael Leddy at 7:45 PM comments: 4
A note in Edgar Rosenberg's Norton Critical Edition of Great Expectations led me to look up Charles Dickens's address to an anniversary meeting of the Printers' Pension Society, April 6, 1864. Dickens begins:
I do not know whether my feelings are exceptional, but I have a distinct recollection (in my early days at school, when under the dominion of an old lady, who to my mind ruled the world with the birch) of feeling an intense disgust with printers and printing. I thought the letters were printed and sent there to plague me, and I looked upon the printer as my enemy. When I was taught to say my prayers I was told to pray for my enemies, and I distinctly remember praying especially for the printer as my greatest enemy. I never now see a row of large, black, fat, staring Roman capitals, but this reminiscence rises up before me. . . .Dickens closes by paying tribute to the printer's role in "press[ing] the tyrants and humbugs off the face of the earth":
But this feeling of dislike to the printer altogether disappeared from the time I saw my own name in print. I now feel gratified at looking at the jolly letter O, the crooked S, with its full benevolent turns, the curious G, and the Q with its comical tail, that first awoke in me a sense of the humourous. The printer and myself are, and have been for some time, inseparable companions.
The printer is the friend of intelligence, of thought; he is the friend of liberty, of freedom, of law; indeed, the printer is the friend of every man who is the friend of order; the friend of every man who can read. Of all inventions, of all the discoveries in science or art, of all the great results in the wonderful progress of mechanical energy and skill, the printer is the only product of civilization necessary to the existence of free man.Founded in 1827, the Printers' Pension Society was supporting seventy-six pensioners in 1864. Dickens earlier addressed the Society in 1843.
The Speeches of Charles Dickens, ed. K.J. Fielding (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1960), 323–324, 325, 325.
By Michael Leddy at 8:31 AM comments: 2
Because "'Books-that-should-be-reconsidered-under-interpretation-of-current-collection-development-policies-and-retired' is not a fun name": Awful Library Books.
(Thanks, Rachel!)
By Michael Leddy at 11:33 AM comments: 0
In today's New York Times, a photograph of a lovely model reading Proust.
By Michael Leddy at 11:09 AM comments: 5