A civilisation is a heritage of beliefs, customs, and knowledge slowly accumulated in the course of centuries, elements difficult at times to justify by logic, but justifying themselves as paths when they lead somewhere, since they open up for man his inner distance.
Defeat… Victory… Terms I do not know what to make of. One victory exalts, another corrupts. One defeat kills, another brings life. Tell me what seed is lodged in your victory or your defeat, and I will tell you its future. Life is not definable by situations but by mutations. There is but one victory that I know is sure, and that is the victory that is lodged in the energy of the seed. Sow the seed in the wide black earth and already the seed is victorious, though time must contribute to the triumph of wheat.
This morning France was a shattered army and a chaotic population. But if in a chaotic population there is a single consciousness animated by a sense of responsibility, the chaos vanishes. A rock pile ceases to be a rock pile the moment a single man contemplates it, bearing wishing him the image of a cathedral. I shall not fret about the loam if somewhere in it a seed lies buried. The seed will drain the loam and the wheat will blaze.
(Antoine de Saint-Exupéry: Flight to Arras)
The injustice of defeat lies in the fact that its most innocent victims are made to look like heartless accomplices. It is impossible to see behind defeat, the sacrifices, the austere performance of duty, the self-discipline and the vigilance that are there — those things the god of battle does not take account of… Defeat shows up generals without authority, men without organization, crowds that are passive.
In this court decisions are made by majority vote; however, experience has shown it is better to go by the opinion of the minority, which is perfectly natural, for the number of righteous judges is very small, and every one agrees that those with poor judgment are too numerous to count.
(Montesquieu: Persian Letters, Letter 84)
After an inordinate delay, the bus at last turned the corner and pulled up alongside the pavement. A few people got off, a few others got on. I was among the latter. I got shoved onto the platform, the conductor vehemently pulled a noise plug and the vehicle started off again. Whiel I was engaged in tearing out of a little book the number of tickets that the man with the little box was about to obliterate on his stomach, I started to inspect my neighbours…
(Biased from Exercises in Style by Raymond Queneau)
And here’s my effort:
Tuesday, 1 December 2020
Thank God! The bloody lockdown is finally over! Well, sort of. But I am declaring it to be over, and never mind the remaining restrictions. The main thing is, as far as I’m concerned, that tomorrow my swimming pool will open again and I don’t care about the rest. Of course, the government – idiots, the lot of them – might yet change their mind and put us back under lock and key again.
But I’ll deal with that when it happens!
Over to you. 🙂
Writing Challenge:
Just a reminder that you can join in this writing challenge, based on Exercises in Style by French author Raymond Queneau, by writing an entry (post it in the comments section below or, if you prefer, on your own blog and link to my relevant post) using the prompt from Queneau each day.
More information in the original post here:
⇒ Lockdown Diaries II, Day 6: With Raymond Queneau
Have fun!
Recommended reading:
⇒ Exercises in Style by Raymond Queneau
I beg to advise you of the following facts of which I happened to be the equally impartial and horrified witness.
Today, at roughly twelve noon, I was present on the platform of a bus which was proceeding up the rue de Courcelles in the direction of Place Champerret. The aforementioned bus was fully laden – more than fully laden, I might even venture to say, since the conductor had accepted an overload of several candidates without valid reason and actuated by an exaggerated kindness of heart which caused him to exceed the regulations…
(Official Letter from Exercises in Style by Raymond Queneau)
And here’s my effort:
Sunday, 29 November 2020
Dear Sir,
I wish to bring to your notice the following facts relating to the – shop selling ethnic food in the neighbourhood of -.
Sir, this shop occupies an extremely small floor space and in accordance with the COVID restrictions currently in place in the said locality, is forced to limit the number of shoppers on the premises. On the 29th of November, this resulted in an exceedingly long queue outside of the aforementioned shop.
I’m happy to inform you that all customers, none of whom were English, queued outside in an exemplary British manner, waiting for their turn without grumbling. I myself witnessed this, being part of said queue for fifteen minutes, with my younger daughter, whose behaviour upon this occasion proved a credit to her upbringing.
In the sincere hope that the COVID restrictions will ease in the very near future,
Mrs So-and-So
Over to you. 🙂
Writing Challenge:
Just a reminder that you can join in this writing challenge, based on Exercises in Style by French author Raymond Queneau, by writing an entry (post it in the comments section below or, if you prefer, on your own blog and link to my relevant post) using the prompt from Queneau each day.
More information in the original post here:
⇒ Lockdown Diaries II, Day 6: With Raymond Queneau
Have fun!
Recommended reading:
⇒ Exercises in Style by Raymond Queneau
The general effect is green with a white roof, oblong, with windows. It isn’t as easy as all that to do with windows. The platform isn’t any colour: it’s half grey, half brown if it must be something. The most important things is it’s full of curves, lots of esses as you might say…
(Visual from Exercises in Style by Raymond Queneau)
And here’s my effort:
Saturday, 28 November 2020
From my bed the first thing I see in the morning is the curtains. They are red and the light, even winter light, makes them translucent, making the whole bedroom glow in soft warm red.
The room I spent most of the day on other hand was anything but softly glowing red. It is a little dark, because the window is partially obscured by the furniture; it’s such a small room that it only has room for one item of furniture, which is a high bed, with the desk and a one-seater sofa fixed underneath and this is straight in front of the window. The sofa is blue as are the curtains.
It was such a grey day outside that I had the desk light on most of the day and in the afternoon, when I curled up with a book on the sofa, I turned on the colourful LED lights that are stringed along under the bed. It cheered the room up a bit.
Over to you. 🙂
Writing Challenge:
Just a reminder that you can join in this writing challenge, based on Exercises in Style by French author Raymond Queneau, by writing an entry (post it in the comments section below or, if you prefer, on your own blog and link to my relevant post) using the prompt from Queneau each day.
More information in the original post here:
⇒ Lockdown Diaries II, Day 6: With Raymond Queneau
Have fun!
Recommended reading:
⇒ Exercises in Style by Raymond Queneau
You ought to put another button on your overcoat, his friend told him. I came across him in the middle of the Coeur de Rome, after having left him rushing avidly towards a seat. He had just protested against being pushed by another passenger who, he said, was jostling him every time anyone got off…
(Retrograde from Exercises in Style by Raymond Queneau)
And here’s my effort:
Friday, 27 November 2020
I had just spent a couple of hours this afternoon tagging family photos in the computer, before I settled down to write today’s diary entry. It took longer than planned because this had been a holiday in Seville at Easter, a few years ago and I got seduced by some of the videos. I remember we got up at 3:30 am on the last day in order to see the procession of Jesús del Gran Poder go by – and the evening before we had been out till late at a flamenco show…
Earlier the postman brought a pushy letter from our health service, telling me – yet again – to protect them by not being ill. Yes, sir! I’ll just snuff it then and trouble the undertaker instead!
Before I got annoyed by the letter, I had spent the morning going through the motions of a boring weekday in lockdown. Yawn. The most interesting event of the morning was, frankly, seeing Young Friend of the Elephants off to school…
Over to you. 🙂
Writing Challenge:
Just a reminder that you can join in this writing challenge, based on Exercises in Style by French author Raymond Queneau, by writing an entry (post it in the comments section below or, if you prefer, on your own blog and link to my relevant post) using the prompt from Queneau each day.
More information in the original post here:
⇒ Lockdown Diaries II, Day 6: With Raymond Queneau
Have fun!
Recommended reading:
⇒ Exercises in Style by Raymond Queneau
A few of us were travelling together. A young man, who didn’t look very intelligent, spoke to the man next to him for a few moments, then he went and sat down. Two hours later I met him again; he was with a friend and was discussing clothing matters.
(Litotes from Exercises in Style by Raymond Queneau)
Well, I have to admit that the title of this particular entry by Queneau had me baffled. I always prided myself on my vocabulary, English included, but litotes was not a word I’ve ever came across before and the entry was not giving me any genuine clue (although with hindsight the first sentence is a clue). I had to resort to the dictionary:
litotes, noun
ironic understatement in which an affirmative is expressed by the negative of its contrary (e.g. I shan't be sorry for I shall be glad).
So there you are. And here’s my effort:
Wednesday, 25 November 2020
I wouldn’t call today a boring day… It was positively interesting. Can’t complain, really.
I got up, had breakfast, worked at the computer. For variety on a working day that’s not bad.
The lunch was nothing out of the ordinary: just a creative combination of some leftovers, but quite delicious.
The weather? Mustn’t grumble. It was positively balmy. You could almost see the sun… if it wasn’t for the thick layer of clouds.
Over to you. 🙂
(In my opinion, this one was surprisingly difficult!)
Writing Challenge:
Just a reminder that you can join in this writing challenge, based on Exercises in Style by French author Raymond Queneau, by writing an entry (post it in the comments section below or, if you prefer, on your own blog and link to my relevant post) using the prompt from Queneau each day.
More information in the original post here:
⇒ Lockdown Diaries II, Day 6: With Raymond Queneau
Have fun!
Recommended reading:
⇒ Exercises in Style by Raymond Queneau
Summer S
long neck trod on toes
cries and retreatstation button
meeting(Haikai from Exercises in Style by Raymond Queneau)
Well, here’s my effort:
Tuesday, 24 November 2020
Morning light
catching up with friends
sitting outside
afternoon gloom
tea ‘n’ smiles
Over to you. 🙂
Writing Challenge:
Just a reminder that you can join in this writing challenge, based on Exercises in Style by French author Raymond Queneau, by writing an entry (post it in the comments section below or, if you prefer, on your own blog and link to my relevant post) using the prompt from Queneau each day.
More information in the original post here:
⇒ Lockdown Diaries II, Day 6: With Raymond Queneau
Have fun!
Recommended reading:
⇒ Exercises in Style by Raymond Queneau
Quacking and letting off, the S came rasping to a halt alongside the silent pavement. The sun’s trombone flattened the midday note. The pedestrians, bawling bagpipes, shouted one of their numbers…
(Auditory from Exercises in Style by Raymond Queneau)
Well, here’s my effort:
Sunday, 22 November 2020
Woke to the loud buzzing of a bumble bee as it kept banging against the window pane behind the curtains. Out on the field behind the house a dog barked. I turned over and put the pillow over my head to drown the noises out but it did not work. I heard the splashing of the shower from the bathroom next door. Then phone pinged: the taxi to pick my sister up to take her to the airport had been allocated. I got up.
In the kitchen the kettle gurgled as the water came to boil. I turned on the coffee grinder, it sounds like a tiny pneumatic drill; suddenly I couldn’t heard a word that was said on the radio.
Then came breakfast: the ticktocking of the toaster, the banging of spoons on the shells of the boiled eggs, the tinkling of knives and forks on the plates. Dumped the plates and cutlery into the sink, and opened the tap; the water splashed over the plates. Then the taxi driver pinged my phone again to let us know he had arrived.
My sister dragged her suitcase down the stairs, bang-bang, on each step. We said good-bye, she got in the taxi, slammed the door. The car moved off quietly. We shut the front door and put the chain on. It rattled.
Over to you. 🙂
Writing Challenge:
Just a reminder that you can join in this writing challenge, based on Exercises in Style by French author Raymond Queneau, by writing an entry (post it in the comments section below or, if you prefer, on your own blog and link to my relevant post) using the prompt from Queneau each day.
More information in the original post here:
⇒ Lockdown Diaries II, Day 6: With Raymond Queneau
Have fun!
Recommended reading:
⇒ Exercises in Style by Raymond Queneau
BUS CROWDED STOP YNG MAN LONG NECK PLAIT ENCIRCLED HAT REPROACHES UNKNOWN PASSENGER NO APPARENT REASON STOP QUERY FINGERS FEET HURT CONTACT HEEL ALLEGED PURPOSELY STOP YNG MAN ABANDONS DISCUSSION FOR VACANT SEAT STOP …
(Telegraphic from Exercises in Style by Raymond Queneau)
Well, here’s my effort:
Saturday, 21 November 2020
UP LATE QUICK BREAKFAST STOP PLAYED SCRABBLE WITH SISTER SHE WON STOP LONG LINGERING LUNCH WITH WINE AND NY CHEESECAKE STOP LAZY AFTERNOON PLAYING COMPUTER GAMES STOP WEATHER STINKS BRING CHEESE STOP
Over to you. 🙂
Writing Challenge:
Just a reminder that you can join in this writing challenge, based on Exercises in Style by French author Raymond Queneau, by writing an entry (post it in the comments section below or, if you prefer, on your own blog and link to my relevant post) using the prompt from Queneau each day.
More information in the original post here:
⇒ Lockdown Diaries II, Day 6: With Raymond Queneau
Have fun!
Recommended reading:
⇒ Exercises in Style by Raymond Queneau
Midday was struck on the clock. The bus was being got onto by passengers. They were being squashed together. A hat was being worn on the head of a young gentleman, which hat was encircled by a plait and not by a ribbon…
(Passive from Exercises in Style by Raymond Queneau)
Well, here’s my effort:
Friday, 20 November 2020
I was woken up late by the ringing of my mobile – I was being called by the nurse who had been told by the doctor to call me. I was asked if I was feeling well and she was told that I was feeling as well as could be expected under the circumstances.
I was made breakfast by Mr Anglo-Saxonist (a boiled duck egg and soldiers); and all the food was eaten by me. Then the breakfast dishes and crockery were put into the dishwasher, which was run.
Overtaken by laziness, I spent the next few hours playing SimCity.
After lunch, the Scrabble board was got out and laid on the table and a mind-boggling game of Scrabble developed in Hungarian which was won by my sister…
Over to you. 🙂
Writing Challenge:
Just a reminder that you can join in this writing challenge, based on Exercises in Style by French author Raymond Queneau, by writing an entry (post it in the comments section below or, if you prefer, on your own blog and link to my relevant post) using the prompt from Queneau each day.
More information in the original post here:
⇒ Lockdown Diaries II, Day 6: With Raymond Queneau
Have fun!
Recommended reading:
⇒ Exercises in Style by Raymond Queneau
It was neither a boat nor an aeroplane, but a terrestrial means of transport. It was neither the morning, nor the evening, but midday. It was neither a baby, nor an old man, but a young man…
(Negativities from Exercises in Style by Raymond Queneau)
Well, here’s my effort:
Thursday, 19 November 2020
I have slept neither well, nor badly last night. I didn’t get up until late, not at midday though, it was still morning. I had neither coffee, nor hot chocolate with my breakfast; instead I had tea.
I didn’t go out, not even into the garden but I did look through the window.
At some point, I went into the bedroom of Young Friend of the Elephants, although I really didn’t want to. In there I felt there was a lack of fresh air, so I thought I’d open the window. I didn’t open the small window because I didn’t want to climb up on her bed to access it but opened the big window instead. No warm air came in, only cold. I can’t say I was surprised.
I didn’t have anything urgent to do, so I didn’t do anything. And although it’s still not the evening, I think nothing of interest will happen today, so I’m not going to write anything more…
Over to you. 🙂
Writing Challenge:
Just a reminder that you can join in this writing challenge, based on Exercises in Style by French author Raymond Queneau, by writing an entry (post it in the comments section below or, if you prefer, on your own blog and link to my relevant post) using the prompt from Queneau each day.
More information in the original post here:
⇒ Lockdown Diaries II, Day 6: With Raymond Queneau
Have fun!
Recommended reading:
⇒ Exercises in Style by Raymond Queneau
“At what time did the 12.23 pm. S-line bus proceeding in the direction of the Porte de Champerret arrive on that day?”
“At 12.38 p.m.”
“Were there any people on the aforesaid bus?”
“Bags of ’em.”
“Did you particularly notice any of them?”
An individual who had a very long neck and a plait round his hat.”
…(Cross-Examination from Exercises in Style by Raymond Queneau)
Well, here’s my effort:
Wednesday, 18 November 2020
“Who was present in the house on that day?”
“Well, we were all there in the morning, obviously.”
“Could you please specify whom do you include under the term ‘all’?”
“Well, my husband Mr Anglo-Saxonist, my younger daughter Young Friend of the Elephants, my sister and myself.”
“Are all of these normally residents of the house?”
“No, only three of us; my sister was visiting.”
“I see. And what happened in the morning of that day?”
“We got up… Young Friend of the Elephants went to school. Mr Anglo-Saxonist travelled to Lancashire for the day. My sister and myself played Scrabble in Hungarian.”
“What were your reasons for playing Scrabble in Hungarian?”
“I wanted to find out if it was easier or harder than in English.”
“And what conclusion did you come to?”
“It’s much harder.”
Over to you. 🙂
Writing Challenge:
Just a reminder that you can join in this writing challenge, based on Exercises in Style by French author Raymond Queneau, by writing an entry (post it in the comments section below or, if you prefer, on your own blog and link to my relevant post) using the prompt from Queneau each day.
More information in the original post here:
⇒ Lockdown Diaries II, Day 6: With Raymond Queneau
Have fun!
Recommended reading:
⇒ Exercises in Style by Raymond Queneau
We bypassed day 12 of the lockdown diaries yesterday, as it was the day of the weekly quote, and hearing from me once a day I’m sure is more than enough for any of you! 🙂 But now we carry on, still in the style of Raymond Queneau:
In that meridian S, apart from the habitual smell, there was a smell of a beastly seedy ego, of effrontery, of jeering, of H-bombs, of a high jakes, of cakes and ale, of…
(Olfactory from Exercises in Style by Raymond Queneau)
Well, here’s my effort:
Tuesday, 17 November 2020
Got up to the smell of freshly baked bread, wafting upstairs from the kitchen. What a marvellous thing it is to have a bread machine! No work involved, you just get the lovely smell waking you every morning! I had breakfast, drank my tea and Mr Ango-Saxonist came down to have his coffee; I have to tell you that tea can’t compete with coffee in the olfactory sense. The smell of coffee triumphed over everything, even the smell of fresh bread.
We cleaned the house today between bouts of work. The dust got up my nose while I was dusting; it has a, you know, a really dusty smell? There’s no better word to describe it. The hoover smells dusty too, I swear. And the smell of bleach was overpowering in our tiny bathroom; it’ll take hours to go away. But the end result is that everything is spick and span and bright and fresh.
But Young Friend of the Elephants is just about to come home from school; we always have tea together. It’s time that I went and put the kettle on and put the cakes on the plates – she baked some fairy cakes on Sunday, and we’re going to finish them off today. I’m leaving you imagining their sweet smell.
Over to you. 🙂
Writing Challenge:
Just a reminder that you can join in this writing challenge, based on Exercises in Style by French author Raymond Queneau, by writing an entry (post it in the comments section below or, if you prefer, on your own blog and link to my relevant post) using the prompt from Queneau each day.
More information in the original post here:
⇒ Lockdown Diaries II, Day 6: With Raymond Queneau
Have fun!
Recommended reading:
⇒ Exercises in Style by Raymond Queneau
I don’t really know where it happened… in a church, a dustbin, a charnel house? A bus perhaps? There were… but what were there, though? Eggs, carpets, radishes? Skeletons? Yes, but with their flesh still around them, and alive.
…
(Hesitation from Exercises in Style by Raymond Queneau)
Well, here’s my effort:
Sunday, 15 November 2020
Er… I’m not sure what I did all day long. I got up, that seems likely. And must have had breakfast. Or had I? And what did I do afterwards?… Er… let me think. Perhaps I worked on my blog. Or not. I might have been doing something else. I definitely did something… didn’t I? But perhaps not. I mean God rested on the seventh day, and this is the seventh day, right? Or actually, is that supposed to be the Saturday, you know, the Sabbath… or what.
Let me just try and remember… Yes, I must have worked on my blog. And then… well… I did something else. Definitely. Something else, right? And later… er… in the afternoon, I’m pretty sure of that at least, that it was afternoon, I mean, we… er…. oh yes, we had high tea. Of course, I could have been just suffering from hallucinations?
Over to you. 🙂
Recommended reading:
⇒ Exercises in Style by Raymond Queneau
Goodness! Twelve o’clock! Time for the bus! What a lot of people! What a lot of people! Aren’t we squashed! Bloody funny! That chap! What a face! And what a neck! Two foot long! At least!…
(Exclamations from Exercises in Style by Raymond Queneau)
Well, here’s my effort:
Saturday, 14 November 2020
Good heavens! It’s already past 5 o’clock! And I haven’t written my lockdown diary! When I promised people! Bloody hell! How did the time passed this fast?! Oh me! Oh my! How will I even come up with something to write at such short notice?! Impossible! Worse than impossible!
I wasted my time all day! Well, I hasn’t actually wasted it as such but…! It’s 5 o’clock! And not a word written! And to top it, nothing happened all bloody day!!! There is literally nothing to write about! To hell with this goddamn lockdown!
Over to you. 🙂
Recommended reading:
⇒ Exercises in Style by Raymond Queneau
Towards the middle of the day and at midday I happened to be on and got onto the platform and the balcony at the back of an S-line and of a Contrescarpe-Champerret bus and passenger-transport vehicle which wsa packed and to all intents and purposes full. I saw and noticed a young man and an old adolescent who was rather ridiculous and pretty grotesque: thin neck and skinny windpipe, string and cord round his hat and headgear…
(Double Entry from Exercises in Style by Raymond Queneau)
And here’s my effort:
Friday, 13 November 2020
I woke up and opened my eyes but I was still sleepy and dozy, so I yawned, stretched and rubbed my eyes. Finally I sat up and climbed out of bed to get up and make a start to the day.
I made myself breakfast which I then ate, eating breakfast being an important part of starting the day. Then I started the computer, that is, I woke it up, and the screen came on so that I could log in. I worked on things and performed various duties all morning.
I took a break at lunchtime and I rested. I put on my waterproof footwear, that is, my walking boots and went outside for a walk in the nearby woods where I walked among the trees and on the paths. The ground was muddy and wet and squelching under my boots.
After lunch in the afternoon I performed some more tasks and duties before calling it a day when the sun went down and the sky became dark outside…
Over to you. 🙂
Recommended reading:
⇒ Exercises in Style by Raymond Queneau
In a bus of the S line, 10 m long, 3 wide, 6 high, at 3.6 km from its starting point, loaded with 48 people, at 12.17 p.m., a person of the masculine sex aged 27 years, 3 months and 8 days, 1.72, weighing 65 kg and wearing a hat 35 cm in height, round the crown of which was a ribbon 60 cm long, addressed a man aged 48 years, 4 months and 3 days, 1.68 m tall and weighing 77 kg by means of 14 words whose enunciation lasted 5 seconds and which alluded to some involuntary displacement of 15 to 20 mm. Then he went and sat down about 1.1 m away.
57 minutes later he was 10 metres away from the suburban entrance to the Gare Saint-Lazare and was walking up and down over a distance of 30 m with a friend aged 28, 1.7 m tall and weighing 71 kg, who advised him in 15 words to move a button, 3 cm in diameter, by 5 cm in the direction of the zenith.
(Precision from Exercises in Style by Raymond Queneau)
And here’s my effort:
Thursday, 12 November 2020
I got up at exactly 8:00 am GMT in the morning and it took me precisely 9 minutes and 17 seconds to make and drink my tea; my mug holds 200 ml of liquid. I poured the boiling water exactly to the level of the top of the roof of the London bus that decorates the inside of the mug.
There were seven different tasks to get through today, no less, no more. I worked at them diligently all day, paying great attention to even the most minute detail. My GP called me at 11:52; our conversation lasted 7 minutes and 14 seconds. Apart from this, I interrupted my work exactly twice: once at 1:00 pm to take lunch (one frankfurter, fried, plus a half a slice of thin home made white bread, no mustard or other condiments) and for the second time at 3:45 pm, when the doorbell rang. Answered the door in ten seconds flat as I was standing only two metres away at the time. It was a young male male under 30 years old, wearing a blue hoody and faded jeans who delivered a parcel, addressed to Mr Anglo-Saxonist, very light in weight. We exchanged no words, other than me saying “Thank you” to him.
Over to you. 🙂
Recommended reading:
⇒ Exercises in Style by Raymond Queneau
Waterblogged 