The Importance of Ambitions

How about that? I've just written about the ambiguous use of the words "ambition" and "ambitious". And now The Guardian published a short review of the results of a study of 13,669 essays written by schoolchildren in 1969. Although the authors of the study have warned against early conclusions, it seems very likely that the earlier in life one sets high goals for oneself, the more likely they are to achieve them.

Personally, I wouldn't use either word, and this is not just because the word "ambitious" is being used both to encourage and to dismiss one's aspirations. I would rather say children should be encouraged to have goals in life that serve to realise their creative, physical, mental, etc. potential. Parents should, on the other hand, be able to recognise such potential in their children and help them realise it, help them create and achieve their goals. I feel, judging by the use of the word, "ambition" is often linked to politics, and when we say "ambitious" we picture a ruler who drives whole nations to wars before dying rather disgracefully during the Ides of March. And because we don't want to end like this, we often use "ambitious" in a negative sense.

However, having a goal in life is crucial, and setting a goal for yourself early in life is twice as important. It is possible to change goals, it is possible to abandon them, but the process of attaining experience and knowledge to achieve the goals takes years, and time is something we haven't yet learnt to turn back.

The study has shown that children from the middle-class families had higher aspirations and did better than those from the working-class families. This made me remember about my own experience of going to the Moscow State University straight from school in 1997. Before I tell you this story though, I have to say a few words about Soviet/Russian social classes. Unfortunately, I cannot quite draw analogy between the Russian and British types of what is essentially one system. Nowadays, looking at my country since the fall of the Iron Curtain, I realise that we've always had classes there. Any attempt by the Communist government to erase the class differences wasn't really successful. Perhaps, forming groups is proper to a man, and therefore the Soviet society had established its own classes instead of throwing the idea away completely. But when I was at school I was hardly aware of the class differences, to the point that even now I cannot categorise my classmates to suggest their belonging to the Soviet middle-class or Soviet working-class.

So, the story I want to tell is exactly about the importance of setting those high goals and the possibility of achieving them. At school I'd always been an excellent pupil and eventually graduated with distinction and a medal. I don't remember when and who first suggested that I should go to study at the Lomonosov Moscow State University (MGU/MSU), Russia's biggest and one of the world's most respected universities. Time went by, the "Yulia will go to the MSU" had become almost a figure of speech, it's been used so often. I, however, began to feel that I did indeed want to go to the MSU, and nothing but the MSU. I wanted excellent education, I was happy to work hard to get it, so the MSU had become my choice.

But it was thought to be extremely corrupt; they said it was impossible to enter the MSU without private tuition or public courses; in addition, it was thought to be extremely elitist. My family didn't have money to bribe anyone, and was very far from the elite. Finally, after attending a few public lectures I realised it was a loss of time and money (there was a small fee for each lecture), so I just continued to study on my own.

By all accounts, I shouldn't have succeeded; against the social, financial and other possible odds, I did. When I was already in England, I watched Madonna talking to Michael Parkinson, who asked her how she'd been living in New York, and if she'd ever thought what she would do if she didn't succeed. She said something along the lines of: "This wasn't an option". I can inscribe these words on the file in my head that has got the memories of my becoming an MSU student. The MSU was the only uni where I wanted to be. There was absolutely no option of not entering it. I suppose you can say I considered myself the MSU student long before I'd got my student card. I wouldn't call this "ambition". It was a dream, and I also loved the place where I would be studying, and they say that when you love something with all your heart, you do eventually get rewarded.

And then I found out that those early predictions were indeed a figure of speech for many people. And although I cannot account for any instances of corruption, I have to admit that the MSU is elitist, but then so is Oxbridge. However, I'm sure I'm not the only person whose drive and passion overturned mountains.

Ambition, ambition... Nothing ever can protect anyone from failure, but usually we don't know we are to fail until we actually do. To be afraid to realise our potential is the biggest disservice we can do ourselves. And why to think of the worst outcome? There's a saying in Russia: "if you tell someone they're a pig, they'll start oinking". So why not work hard and believe in success instead?

And let's face it, we keep talking about one's private goals, whereas the whole mankind should be our example. How on Earth did the Egyptians erect those pyramids? How did Columbus discover America? How did Magellan circumnavigate the Earth? How did we end up flying not only from country to country, but into space? We are people, we cannot fly, and the law of gravitation is against the whole concept of a flight. Yet in the 20th c. we've finally got wings, figuratively speaking. There is a burning desire, a dream behind each of these achievements to which we should be looking up, without doubt.


Links:

Lucy Ward, When I grow up... the dreams of primary pupils that came true (The Guardian, September 29, 2007).

Bloggers Against Abuse: The Use of Language

So, it’s Sept 27^th, and the bloggers at BlogCatalog are writing up their entries to the history of blogging. They blog about abuse of any kind in the bid if not to stop it immediately, then to make a decisive move to stop it in future.

Having read and analysed many texts and speeches, I thought therefore I’d blog about the abuse of language. The topic is extensive, and I don’t intend to cover it entirely, but a few points will hopefully set us on the way of correcting certain things, or thinking about them. I should note that, although I’ll be writing primarily about the use of English, I’ve just written about the same problem in my Russian blog, highlighting the levels of literacy among the Russian internet users. I am not sure but I may well be the only one who considers the misuse of language an important issue. One thing I can say is that there was no banner for language abuse, so I had to use a simple image.

I’d also like to add that I’m going to overlook the use of slang and jargon. This has more to do with the style of speech, rather than the basic language usage.

I’m sure I’m not one of a kind in this, but imagine my perplexity every time I stumble upon “it’s” instead of “its”, “me” instead of “my”, or “should of” instead of “should have” or “should’ve”. “There”, “they’re” and “their” are used not only interchangeably, but randomly. I’m being told they don’t teach the actual grammar in English schools. I’ve got no foggiest idea of how the language is being taught altogether, but so it goes. I mention this because the listed errors are those that concern the everyday usage of language. I can understand a person not knowing about Present Perfect or Past Perfect Continuous, or cannot explain the difference between Conditional II and III. But the inability to distinguish between “its” and “it is” is something of an oddity.

Still, the problem with the actual use of language is far more complex. Currently I keep coming across a popular error in the use of the words “effect” and “affect”. In one source I read an appeal to do a certain action to see “what affect it has on the performance”. In another source I read an appeal for another action to see “how this is effecting us as a business”. I was writing the text for this entry in Microsoft Word, and the automatic spellchecker has actually highlighted the word “effecting” as incorrect. It certainly should be “affecting”. As far as “affect” in the first example is concerned, it means “feel” (noun), however we’re not interested in the feel of something for the business, but in the impact of something on it. “Affect” should therefore be “effect”. Unfortunately, this is one of the recurring errors I’ve been noticing in many online texts recently. On some occasions, we can probably speak of a chain reaction when one instance of wrong use initiates many others. Still, this is hardly an excuse for not using a spellchecker or a dictionary.

Yes, the use of dictionary. There’re many online dictionaries these days, and now and again I always dive into one, sometimes to check that I’m using the right word, sometimes just to take my mind off the more mundane things. I can certify that the effect [sic] of this is only beneficial.

This “affect-effect” problem is a nice start to something I find very interesting to observe and contemplate. The words – are we ever aware of what they mean, or how they sound? One of my fondest memories is about a man getting on the bus, paying a tariff to the driver, another male, and saying “Thanks, love!” I say “fondest” because in fact I found the scene very amusing. Amidst all pro- and counter-gay talk, two men were exchanging this kind of addresses on the bus.

They probably didn’t realise the whole oddity of this, but then how about the emails or letters from your good friends that end with “love”? You’re nothing but friends, and so finishing the letter with “love, so-and-so” hardly matters, being just a kind of convention. Until someone with a different point of view reads the letter and begins to inquire, in jest or seriously, how deep this love is. Why, though, is there a need to question this little token of friendly affection? If it’s in the word, then why not also question the intentions of parents who say they love their children? Or of an old lady who says she loves her Yorkshire terrier? Or indeed what should be thought of all enthusiasts out there who say they “love” something, from food through football to mountaineering?

I obviously utter thing, but the point I want to make is that we constantly either extend the definition of a word to things it doesn’t define, or, on the contrary, deny under various pretexts that a word has more than one meaning which can and should be used.

I’ve come across a group on Facebook which appealed against the use of the word “gay” in any context but sexual. The organisers were saying they knew about other meanings of this controversial word, but were making the point of avoiding all those definitions due to the overwhelming use of the word “gay” in connection with the LGBT movement.

There’s a Soviet film which some cinema aficionados may have heard about. It’s best translated into English as The Gay Guys. Don’t hold your breath; this is not a specimen of illegal Soviet gay propaganda. The film tells the story of a jazz orchestra. What exactly does “gay” mean then? It can be translated as “merry”, but it may then mean “tipsy”, which is not the meaning of the original Russian word. “Cheerful” is closer to “optimistic”, and this is not what the title means. It can be translated as “happy”, but happiness is different from joy, and the film praises the Soviet joie de vivre. “The Joyous Guys” is a mouthful and difficult to spell. “The Funny Guys” is once again suggesting a different story. The Gay Guys is the most appropriate translation, as it conveys the main meaning of the film’s title.

But fine, suppose we stop using the word “gay” in all those irrelevant senses. What about “straight” then? If we’re restricting one “sexual” word in its definitions, why make exception to another? Freemasons use it; shall we start a petition to the Masonic lodges across the UK demanding them to stop the improper use of the word “straight”? Consider phraseology. “To go straight” or “be straight with me” must sound awful, if we strive for political correctness. On another note, since I've come to Manchester, many people played on the similarity in sound between “Russian” and “rushing”. I don’t take it personally, and never try to deduce whether or not these people may have something against me.

All jokes aside, the use of the words is the problem that persists and will persist, as the social media assumes more power and makes more impact on our awareness of things. Maybe, just maybe, someone will start a group calling to reconsider the use of the word “anal”. I cannot tell you exactly what definition of it will be up for erasure, but together with “love”, “gay, and “straight” this is one of the most misused words I can remember. At the same time, it’s an incredibly convenient word to use in public. While your listeners are laughing rapturously, you can think of what to say next.

So far I was speaking mostly of the words the definitions of which are clearly printed. However, my favourite example is the word “ambitious”. Now and again we hear adults encouraging children and adolescents, as well as other adults, to have an ambition or to fulfil an ambition. Look it up, it means “desire”, “dream”, “goal”. Likewise, “ambitious” is synonymous to “driven”, “enthusiastic”, which hardly conjure any negative images.

Sometimes, though, when one’s ambitions are announced or assumed, those who otherwise encourage these aspirations, make a U-turn and say: “Hey, that’s very ambitious”. In such context, “ambitious” equals “doomed to fail”.

Exactly what is happening here? On the one hand, there is a seemingly genuine attempt to drive individuals by inspiring them, by encouraging them to follow their goals and vocations. Simultaneously, there is an all-too-quick ability to dismiss any goal, vocation or attempt as worthless. Encouragement is given away for free. Dismissal hardly costs anything. And on top, there are instances when “ambitious” (= doomed to fail) was used to help dismiss high-quality works. As if there was some kind of standard ambition, below or beyond which an ambition either doesn’t exist or is considered dangerous, for whatever reason.

I have to conclude, while the use of other words may be restricted, I cannot see anything similar happening to the word “ambitious”. Sadly, like with a few other topical words out there today, “ambitious” is more convenient when its meaning is unclear. What shall we do?

Queuing: The National Passion (...and a correction to a Yahoo! article)

This article on Yahoo! News that I've just read credits foreign students with ruining a quintessentially British art of queuing. On the Isle of Wight, it is reported, while the British citizens form an orderly queue for a bus, these young rascals storm past them.

Not intending to take the blame off these illiterate students, may I remind you of my observation of my trip to London in April this year when on a tube a station officer had to address the crowd eager to get on the train that they'd have less trouble getting in, if they let other get off first. I can assure you, and you may very well guess yourself, not all of those who were behaving improperly were students, let alone foreign. I have seen a few examples of such disorderly queuing in Manchester. On the other hand, it is always very nice when a guy in a hoodie offers all women at the bus stop to get on the bus before him.

For my part, I've always queued, when and where it was necessary. Even when there is no queue-like chain of people but a few individuals wandering around, I still usually ask if any of them is queuing up. At the very least, it saves having an argument.

Anyway, what was interesting about Yahoo! article is this passage:

Orderly queuing -- as seen during the recent Northern Rock banking crisis -- is seen as a quintessentially British convention. One social anthropologist believes Britons are even capable of forming one-person queues at bus stops.

Hang on a second, I thought, I have read this before, and surely it wasn't an academic study. You see, many years ago when I was preparing for my entrance exams to the University, I wanted to hone my translation skills from English into Russian while reading something entertaining. This is how I came across and fell in love with George Mikes's How to be an Alien. As a matter of fact, last year's seen 60 years since the book was first published.

A chapter called A National Passion is dedicated to the art of queuing, and, like with many other chapters, the observations are pretty much valid until this day. As Mikes said in the preface to his book, he expected a scandal to happen, but instead was showered with much praise. I highlighted the phrase that Yahoo! article seemingly alludes to. It is still possible of course that a social anthropologist could use this phrase in their study, but it looks like Mikes is our primary source for such comparison.

     Queueing  is the national passion of an  otherwise  dispassionate race.
The English are rather shy about it, and deny that they adore it.
  On  the  Continent, if people  are  waiting at a bus-stop  they  loiter
around in a  seemingly vague fashion. When the bus arrives they  make a dash
for  it; most of them leave by the bus and a lucky minority is taken away by
an elegant black ambulance car. An Englishman, even if he is alone, forms an
orderly queue of one.
  The biggest and most attractive advertisements in front of cinemas tell
people: Queue here for 4s 6d; Queue here for 9s  3d;  Queue  here for 16s 8d
(inclusive of  tax). Those cinemas which do not put out these queueing signs
do not do good business at all.
  At week-ends an Englishman queues up at the bus-stop, travels out to
Richmond, queues up for  a  boat, then queues up for tea, then queues up for
ice cream, then joins a few  more odd queues just for the sake of the fun of
it, then queues up at the bus-stop and has the time of his life.
  Many English families spend lovely evenings at home just by queueing up
for a few hours, and the parents are very sad when the children leave them
and queue up for going to bed.

Marcel Marceau: "Mime, like music, knows neither borders nor nationalities"

Looking back at the names of all those great people who have left us this year, including Vonnegut, Pavarotti, Bergman, and Antonioni, 2007 seems to have taken away too much of the incredible talent that had made the 20th c. And now Marcel Marceau, the man who not only revived the art of mime, but also, we are told, inspired Michael Jackson to create his famous moonwalk.

I have just found this interview with Marcel Marceau, but unfortunately I am still not well enough to transcribe and translate it. However, it is in French and has got Spanish subtitles, and I hope some of you will know either one or another. And I will endeavour to update this post soon with the English translation.

Alternatively, - and this would be wonderful if it happened, - if there are any Francophones or native French speakers reading this blog, please feel free to lend a helping hand at transcribing and/or translating.

History and Blogging

I have only recently joined BlogCatalog, which the majority of you may already have discovered and exploited ages ago. So far I have been finding a lot of interesting blogs and discussions there. In particular, they're inviting all BlogCatalog people to join Bloggers Against Abuse on September 27th. The conditions are simple:

On Sept. 27th, blog about putting an end to some sort of Abuse (you decide what kind of abuse to blog about).

To read more, follow this link.

And on Oct. 15th we're invited to take part in the Blog Action Day. Bloggers from all over the world, in whatever language they write, are invited to blog about environment. Go to the Blog Action Day's homepage to read about how you can participate.

You have obviously noticed the title of this post. The organisers of both days offer to their potential participants an opportunity to make history as a kind of incentive for joining the cause. Looking back, we had One Day in History project which accumulated blog entries from all over Britain; we had a similar project with emails. As far as various blog action days go, my favourite is still the last year's Global Orgasm Day.

I very much like the fact that the blogging community is realising more and more that with every bit of writing they put on the web they're making history. On one of the discussion boards on BlogCatalog I suggested that a couple of years down the line we'll be using blogs as historical sources for all sorts of studies. I didn't expand on this in that thread, but let's consider for a minute an average blog. It combines writing with photos from Flickr, music from Last.fm, and videos from YouTube. All four - the written word, photos, audio, and video - are historical sources. So, not only will we soon stumble upon "The History of Blogging" in our nearest bookshop, but we will also begin to find links to blog posts in the academic and semi-academic studies.

And when this happens, the issue of privacy will probably be forgotten completely. For, if a leading academic approaches a blogger asking to use their musings about national economy, a recent war, or sex, in their research, will the blogger's vanity be too weak to withstand a temptation of being quoted in a thick book? However much time we've begun to spend in the virtual world, being able to hold in your hands a tangible record of your stardom is still something we all crave.


Update:

I've had a comment from Pelf at The Giving Hands. This young woman who is a biologist and veterinarian (apart from many other things from A to Z she's been in her life) has started a blog to write specifically on the issues of saving and protecting the environment. Her own blogging challenge has been to blog about environment for the whole month, from Sept 15th to October 15th. As she is inviting us to read and comment on her blog, I found this post about green gifts particularly interesting. A few of my colleagues at work are getting married next year, so I might start thinking of something "green" for them. Read 10 ways to green your gifts.

The Rule of Freebies?

A year ago Richard Fair wrote this evocative and thought-provoking post "Is it OK to blog while off sick?" Unfortunately, it's absolutely not OK for me, not even because I'm afraid at work they may be reading my blog, but because I feel too bad to be sitting in front of the monitor. So, here is this unplanned pause, and apologies for any comments that I might not answer in the meantime.

In short, I've caught this cold. I had a family member having a bit of a temp last weekend, and on Tuesday at work I was shivering with cold inside. On Tuesday night I had high temperature myself, which I seem to have managed to stop. But my throat is so sore that I cannot fall asleep at night, and as from this morning I'm also coughing, and now I'm dreading going to the doctors.

I commend all the good health professionals for the job they do, and my gratitude to some of them is as deeper as they saved my life a couple of times. But there were other situations.

Several years ago, during my first year in England, I required an urgent X-ray in the stomach area. This happened on the first weekend after the New Year. At first, there was no GP available. Then there was no ambulance car. In excruciating pain, I went to the hospital in a family car, a Ford Mondeo. At the hospital, I had to wait for X-ray for three and a half hours. During this time, five or six people came in, told me about the drawbacks of X-ray (as if I didn't know myself!), and then asked this question.

"Are you sure you're not pregnant?"

Yes, I was totally sure. But again and again they kept asking me, as if the previous group didn't communicate my answer to the next. Eventually I received my treatment, but the sheer amount of time that was spent dangerously in vain is staggering.

And now I'm trying to book in with my GP. Yesterday when I felt really bad and could barely leave the bed, I phoned the surgery asking if the doctor could visit me at home. It was very cold, windy, and exactly at the time of my call it's been raining cats and dogs. Going out to see a doc in such weather would only make things worse for me.

Upon finishing listening to my symptoms, the receptionist said:

"I'm afraid we only visit the patients at home in the case of emergency".

Oh good, at least there was a confirmation that mine wasn't the case of emergency (surely I didn't expect it to be). That was a relief. But if it was such emergency case, surely I'd be dialling a three-digit number, wouldn't I?

I wholeheartedly believe that education and healthcare are the two "luxuries" that must be available to everyone for free. At the same time, as we know through experience, a lot of "freebies" are often of average quality. It's sad and alarming when the rule of "freebies" extends to at least one of the fields that help to build and to protect the society.

Me, Cardinal Wolsey, and Martin Luther King

It could hardly get any better than this - to stumble upon a post about Moscow in 1664 in a blog written by Cardinal Wolsey. The fact that it's twenty minutes past eleven at night would make me doubt things, but no, this is true: while the life of Henry VIII is being adapted and re-adapted for the screen, his Humble Servant is blogging away "on Tudor history, medieval history, early-modern history and anything else that takes his fancy".

All jokes aside, Cardinal Wolsey's Today in History is a really interesting blog, which I haven't read before. As I'm currently working in Search Marketing, a few posts under the label "Googlefight" bring up a very familiar subject. Having spent several years studying mid-Tudor history and specialising in the history of Edward VI's reign, I was glad to find this post about child kings.

Thanks a lot to Cardinal Wolsey who got me started on remembering my Medieval and Early Modern History studies. I finally feel it is appropriate to tell the story that happened in Moscow in 2003. As you might know, in Russia we have predominantly oral exams, which involves learning a lot of facts, dates, names, definitions, etc., by heart. The exam is taken by a senior academic, who is often assisted by a junior member of staff. So, in my first (and by far the only) year of Ph.D. in History I assisted three or four times, and last time it was during the summer exam session at the Early Modern History exam.

This 2nd year student had two questions: one on socio-economic English history, another on the history of German Reformation. He knew his first question badly, and answering it to the senior examiner would have made no difference, as the main examiner was my supervisor, herself an English scholar.

We dragged through this first question, and then I finally "released" him from this turmoil and suggested he'd start answering his second question.

The student evidently thought that German Reformation was an easy question, and that since I was an English scholar I was therefore not a German scholar, so it wouldn't be too difficult to impress me with some generic phrases. And thus, sitting opposite me at the desk, he almost struck a pose, and pronounced the first sentence that was supposed to start a memorable answer:

- Reformation in Germany was begun by Martin Luther King.

I made my best effort not to take a notice. Alas, the student heard what he said. He shrank and mumbled with a confused smile:

- I mean, simply Martin Luther.

One of my former teachers told me recently he thought this was a joke. It was, of course - except that it was true.

Anton Chekhov, The Joy

The Joy is a short story by a renowned Russian author and playwright, Anton Chekhov. I have long loved it for its satirical look at the individual's awe of the press. In those days there was no media the way we now know it, but the power that the newspapers owed to their wide-spread circulation was well recognised and appreciated. There is thus no wonder that anyone of a low social standing who'd find his name in the newspaper would be overjoyed, like the protagonist of this story.

I don't often read English translations of Russian literary classics, mainly because I have already read those in Russian, and there is much more to do other than to compare the differences between the original and its translation. In the case with The Joy, I wanted to translate it anew anyway, and I was convinced it was necessary after I read the English translation. The differences start at the very beginning: in the Russian text, the protagonist's parents are only getting ready to go to bed, but the English translation says they had already gone to bed.

Why is this difference important? A few short sentences of the opening passages depict the Kuldarins family through the time they go to bed and through what they do, once in bed. The youngest, the brothers, are the earliest to go, so by midnight they're fast asleep. Next, a sister, is also in bed, but is finishing a novel, of which her parents are probably oblivious. No doubt, the novel is a romance, and the girl is in that "romance-prone" age. The parents, being the oldest, are the last to go to bed, but also perhaps because they are waiting for their eldest child, the protagonist, to return home. This young man is leading a typical young man's lifestyle, visiting public houses, working in the day as a college registrar, which was the lowest civil officer rank in Imperial Russia.

Those first few sentences are also important because, in spite of a long list of brilliant short stories, Chekhov's perhaps largest contribution as an author was to the world's theatre with his poignant dramas and comedies. The Joy is exemplary in that, being written in 1883, it anticipates Chekhov's plays by setting a stage for the story: a half-asleep house, disturbed by a "joy". The momentum is built by getting the secondary characters out of their beds only gradually, while also, through many repetitions, pointing to the protagonist's hunger for fame and his total disregard to the kind of fame that had befallen him.

Links:
Joy by Anton Chekhov
А. П. Чехов, Радость (original Russian text)

Anton P. Chekhov, The Joy (1883)

It was midnight.

Mitya Kuldarov, all excitement, his hair dishevelled, stormed into his parents’ house and quickly walked across all the rooms. The parents were just getting ready for bed. His sister was already in bed, reading the last page of a novel. His brothers, the schoolboys, were fast asleep.

- Where have you come from? – the parents asked in amazement. – What’s the matter?

- Oh, don’t ask! I didn’t expect this! Oh, I didn’t expect this at all! It’s… it’s simply unbelievable!

Mitya burst out laughing and then sank into the armchair, unable to cope with his happiness.

- It’s incredible! You can’t even imagine this! Look!

His sister leaped out of the bed and, wrapping herself in the quilt, went to see her brother. The schoolboys woke up.

- What’s the matter with you? You’re not yourself!

- Oh, it’s a joy, Mother! For now entire Russia knows about me! Entire Russia! Before it was only you who knew about a college registrar Dmitry Kuldarov, and now the whole of the country knows! Mother! Oh my God!

Mitya quickly raised on his feet, ran around the house again, and then returned to the armchair.

- But what happened? Can’t you say exactly?

- You live like animals in the wild, read no newspapers, pay no notice to the news, yet the papers print so many splendid things! Once something happens, it’s promptly reported, nothing is concealed! Oh, I’m so happy! Oh my God! In the papers, they only write about the celebrated people, and now they wrote about me!

- What do you say? Where?

The father went pale. The mother looked at the holy image and crossed herself. The schoolboys left their bed and as they were, in their short nightgowns, came up to their brother.

- Exactly! They wrote about me! Now entire Russia knows me! Mother, you put this issue away and keep as a memory! We’ll be reading it occasionally. Look!

Mitya drew a newspaper out of his pocket, gave it to the father and pointed with his finger to a passage highlighted with a blue pencil.

- Read!

The father put on his glasses.

- Come on, read it!

The mother looked at the holy image and crossed herself, and the father coughed and began to read:

- On December 29^th, at 11 o’clock at night, a college registrar Dmitry Kuldarov…

- You see? See? Carry on!

- … a college registrar Dmitry Kuldarov, upon leaving a porter-serving public house located at Kosikhin’s in Malaya Bronnaya, and being in the inebriated state…

- I was with Semyon Petrovich… No detail is missed! Carry on! On! Listen!

- … and being in the inebriated state, slipped and fell under the horse of a cab-driver that parked there, which driver is known as Ivan Drotov, a peasant of the Durykina village of the Yukhnovsky district. A frightened horse stepped over Kuldarov, and dragged over him the sledge in which was sitting Stepan Lukov, a 2^nd rank Moscow merchant, and then galloped down the street, but was stopped by the street cleaners. Kuldarov, initially unconscious, was later taken to the police station, where he was checked by a doctor. A contusion that he received on his nape…

- I was struck by a thill, father. Go on! Read on!

- … received on his nape is considered light. The incident is being put on file. The victim received medical help”.

- They told me to foment my nape with cold water. So, have you read it now? Yes? See! Now it’s all over Russia! Give it here!

Mitya snatched the paper, folded it and put it back in his pocket.

- I’ll go round to the Makarovs, show them, too… And then to the Ivanitskys, and Natalia Ivanovna, and Anissim Vasillich… I’ll run now! Farewell!

Mitya put on his hat with a badge and, joyous and triumphant, stormed out of the house.

English translation © Julie Delvaux (JS) 2007.

In the Mood for a Weekend

Staying only for half of the day at work on Friday is already enough to put you in the mood for weekend. I was properly in the mood for it on Friday morning, when I discovered that Notebooks - Los Cuadernos de Julia is shortlisted for this year's Manchester Blog Awards. I couldn't blog about it last night, as my internet didn't work, so it's Saturday morning, and I'd like to say to everyone who nominated me a huge "thank you". Incidentally, the event will take place at MohoLive in our dear Northern Quarter on October 10th, and although the event is free we're all advised to book tickets. So, if you're up to travelling to Manchester on October 10th to see me and other Manchester bloggers in flesh, let us know or just turn up at the event. As for me, I'd be absolutely chuffed to see my reader whom I didn't yet know. Likewise, I'm looking forward to seeing everyone I already know, especially because meeting with some of them is sometimes tricky to organise.

To move on to more digital randomage, I notice that an email is something that gets our heads turn in the past few months: first, the 15th c. email, then mine Short history of the email, and now Google has finally assembled the Gmail users' submissions for their video about how a Google mail travels. To check the video out, go to Gmail: A Behind the Scenes Video.

Google has also introduced BloggerPlay: in simple terms, they made all photos uploaded to blogs in real time publicly available. In their own words,

Blogger Play will show you a never-ending stream of images that were just uploaded to public Blogger blogs. You can click the image to be taken directly to the blog post it was uploaded to, or click “show info” to see an overlay with the post title, a snippet of the body, and some profile information about the blogger who uploaded it.

Sounds like real fun, and being a woman (after all), I couldn't resist clicking on catwalk photo that brought me directly to Cuantos Trapitos blog. I don't know Spanish, but looking at the blog, it's all about fashion, fashion, fashion, and it's likely to become one of those that I visit very often. Thanks to Blogger Play, what can I say!

(The image in the post is courtesy of Manchizzle).

Vladimir Solovyov: A Parody on Russian Symbolists

Russian Symbolism was a branch of European artistic movement under the same name. I first discovered Russian Symbolist poets more than 10 years ago, when I was still at school (Alexander Blok and Konstantine Balmont were my favourite). I suspect, however, that outside Russia Russian symbolism may be primarily associated with theatre, especially the names of Diaghilev and Meyerhold.

Russian Symbolism was occasionally criticised for its superfluous imagery, and the poem that I translated highlights just this sort of criticism. It was composed by Vladimir Solovyov, a Russian philosopher, who was close enough to the Russian literary circles to be able to smile at these sarcastically. The Parodies on Russian Symbolists were printed in 1895 and consist of three parodies, but my favourite has always been the one I have just translated from Russian. It is very much an impromptu, completed chiefly on the bus on my way home. As you may see, Solovyov's poem is more of a parody on symbolism per se: he generously fills every line with a "symbol", to create a hilarious image of a jealous lover.


The skies are burning with the lanterns' fire -
Dark is the Earth!
So, have you been with him, oh woeful liar?
Let truth shine forth!

But tease not the hyena of misgiving
And mice of gloom!
Or else the leopards of revenge come bringing
In teeth your doom!

And call you not the owl of discretion
This fateful night!
The mokes of poise and elephants of question
Have taken flight!

You bore yourself the monstrous crocodile,
Which is your fate!
Oh let the skies burn with the lanterns' fire -
Dark is the grave!

© Julie Delvaux 2007


Владимир Соловьев, Пародии на русских символистов (1895)

На небесах горят паникадила,
А снизу - тьма!
Ходила ты к нему иль не ходила?
Скажи сама!

Но не дразни гиену подозренья,
Мышей тоски!
Не то смотри, как леопарды мщенья
Острят клыки!

И не зови сову благоразумья
Ты в эту ночь!
Ослы терпенья и слоны раздумья
Бежали прочь!

Своей судьбы родила крокодила
Ты здесь сама!
Пусть в небесах горят паникадила,
В могиле - тьма!

A Short History of the Evolution of the Email

My favourite seminar at the Moscow State University was in Modern History, not exactly because I enjoy the time period, but because we had a fantastic tutor who made us read Rousseau, and Montesquieu, and Toynbee, and Febvre, and Jaspers, and engaged us in sometimes high-flown philisophical discussions.

He also had a great sense of humour. Once we were comparing the gone and present civilisations. The question was, whether or not those medieval people, forever stinking and superstitious, were less happy than modern people, who have got things that medieval people wouldn't even think of. The answer was, of course, that medieval people simply didn't know about the things that we've got, so they were neither less, nor more happy. Had they been transported into our time, tried out different things, and then went back to their time, then they would probably be very unhappy.



Today, however, I saw this video on YouTube, and it made me contemplate on how far the world would have gone, had the 15th c. folks really had Macs in their sacks. In the 15th c. they'd retype their emails many times before entrusting a Mac to a messenger. In the 16th c. they'd discover the spell-checker and possibly some drawing programs. The latter would become extremely useful in the 17th c., during the Thirty Years War (1618-1648), as it would allow to draw the schemes of the enemy's headquarters and positions on the battlefields, as well as the enemy's portraits. They still wouldn't know how to save these things, which is exactly the reason why this early electronic history of mankind is not available, not even in cache.

However, because of the war, people would realise how costly it may be to send a Mac with a messenger, so they'd create logins. (I anticipate some archaeological discoveries or the mentions in the 17th c. manuscripts of the destroyed white metallic boxes that didn't seem to contain any information and had been broken in parts in the hope of uncovering the information). The logins and passwords would be sent, as previously, with pigeons.

In the 18th c., inspired by the great surge in development of natural and social sciences, as well as by the new literary genres, people would experiment with their Macs futher. They'd learn to use Word, to write their novels and dramas; they'd use Excel to manipulate the complex economic figures (as you might know, Adam Smith was undoubtedly familiar with Excel functions); and the antiquarians would master the use of Access, to catalogue their stupendous collections.

Moreover, in the 18th c. they'd not be content with using just a Mac (which, some people say, is rubbish at RSS applications), so they'd invent a PC. At this time, because of the all-pervasive influence of computers, they'd briefly get back to writing letters on paper. But soon the Revolution would strike, and they'd realise that sending a paper letter may cost one their life. A messenger was now much more dangerous a mercenary than ever before, and it was vital to find the means to avoid using him to send the information. So people would go back to emails, and this time they'd finally discover the "send" button. The 19th c. would thus have started.

But the email users still had to discover many things. By coming across the "send" button, they would be able to avoid the use of messengers, but they still wouldn't protect themselves from being framed. That's until they'd discover the way to archive private information and to delete sent and received messages. But this would only happen under the influence of the world wars.

In the 20th c., during the wars, it would become clear that it was impossible to spend time on typing every word at full, so the electronic shorthand would have been developed. The wars finished, shorthand wouldn't disappear but would instead become an inherent part of email writing. The email users would appreciate the enormous possibilities of punctuation at communicating moods and emotions: 0), ^_^, :-(((, ;-). As there was no longer any real danger in keeping hold of one's correspondence, people would be deleting sent and received emails less and less often, and already in the new millenium many email applications would offer their users the unlimited mailboxes, and even an option of searching their growing email archives.

But as technology doesn't stop, neither does email. We'd enter the 21st c. with a huge array of means to deploy emails, which would include sending them via a mobile phone. And if you'd ever had any reservations about the human ability to progress, this short story of the evolution of the email (had it been true) would have proved you wrong once and for all.

Luciano Pavarotti

As I was going to work in the morning, there was a small article in Metro about the Italian tenor Luciano Pavarotti being in serious condition. A few hours later at work I read on MSN that one of the world's greatest opera artists has died.

There is very little to say, amidst the tributes and obituaries. U2's Bono said Pavarotti epitomised opera. Undoubtedly, he also epitomised Italy, exuberant and passionate as he was. It is, I guess, because of his immensity - of physique, of talent, of life - that millions of people around the world have taken his exit so close. He entered the memory of many as an ever-smiling opera genius, and nothing can fill the void.

Many an opera aficionado will already have passed on their condolensces to the tenor's family. It is strange to think that, like there would never be any Beatles "comeback" after George Harrison died, so now there are no longer Three Tenors, certainly not in the way we have come to think of them.

The MSN article renders precisely the significance of today's date for the classical music scene:

In the annals of that rare and coddled breed, the operatic tenor, it may well be said the 20th century began with Caruso and ended with Pavarotti. Other tenors — Domingo included — may have drawn more praise from critics for their artistic range and insights. But none could equal the combination of natural talent and personal charm that so endeared Pavarotti to audiences.

Luciano Pavarotti has embraced his popular fame after performing Nessun Dorma in 1990 at the opening of the World Cup in Italy. He sang it again in 2006 at the opening of the Torino Olympic Games, which turned out to be his last major performance. This aria from Puccini's Turandot has always been one of my favourite opera arias. Earlier this year somebody practically anonymous, my compatriot, has sent me in an email a recording of Nessun Dorma as a Christmas present, which I enjoyed a lot. In the video below Pavarotti performs Nessun Dorma in Torino in 2006 (many thanks to supinder for posting this). I cannot describe in words how much or why I love this part, every time I hear it my eyes fill with tears...

MBA and Tenori-On Launch

MBA is what I have just realised the abbreviation of the Manchester Blog Awards 2007. The first event of this kind was held last year, and as those who were present there a year ago testify, this is a wonderful night to attend and to remember. The idea belongs to Kate Feld, and this year's event is expected to be held on October 10, at Mojo Live in Northern Quarter. The nominations are: best political blog, best arts and culture blog, best personal blog, best new blog (started since September 1st 2006), and best creative writing on a blog. The deadline for nominations is September 7th.

More information: BBC Manchester Blog and The Manchizzle.

And one more date for your diary, whether you live in London or in Manchester. September 4th and September 5th will see the world-wide launch on Tenori-On hosted in London and in Manchester, respectively. Tenori-On is the latest invention from a Japanese artist Toshio Iwai, who I had had the honour of watching performing on this instrument exclusively at the last year's Futuresonic launch. As far as I remember him talking about his interest in music and visual arts, he'd always been fascinated with motion picture, and had been drawing animated films in small notebooks. It looks like many a great thing starts with a notebook.

To quote from Futuresonic's website where you can find all information about the events, "the TENORI-ON is a unique 16 x 16 LED button matrix performance controller with a stunning visual display. For musicians, visual artists & DJs it is a unique performance tool that enables them to create spectacular live & DJ audio-visual performances. The worldwide exclusive events will feature TENORI-ON performances from some of the finest talents in electronic music plus an introduction and discussion with the TENORI-ON's inventor, Toshio Iwai."

And here are the line-ups in London and in Manchester - as you'll see, admission is free but an early arrival is recommended to avoid disappointment.

LONDON,
TUESDAY 4 SEPTEMBER

Featuring:
Robert Lippok (Domino/To Rococo Rot)
Toshio Iwai (Media Artist)
Secondo (Dreck Records)
Capracara (Soul Jazz)

Phonica Records / Vinyl Factory, London
6pm-11pm
Admission Free

MANCHESTER,
WEDNESDAY 5 SEPTEMBER

Featuring:
Robert Lippok (Domino/To Rococo Rot)
Toshio Iwai (Media Artist)
Secondo (Dreck Records)
Graham Massey (808 State/Toolshed)

Mint Lounge, Oldham Street, Manchester
8pm-Midnight
Admission Free

Toshio Iwai's performance at the launch of Futuresonic 2006 at the Warehouse 1832 at the Museum of Science and Industry in Manchester was indeed a stunning performance, a visionary and visually impressive piece of music. And to put you in the Tenori-On mood, and possibly to lure you to either a Manchester or a London venue, here is a short demo from YouTube.



More information: Futuresonic and Last.fm.