“Along the Paris streets, the death-carts rumble, hollow and harsh. Six tumbrels carry the day’s wine to La Guillotine. All the devouring and insatiate Monsters imagined since imagination could record itself, are fused in one realisation, Guillotine.”
A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens
We walked slowly, our eyes fixed on the domed roof. The headphone-thingy talked about symmetry, symbolism, liberté, égalité, fraternity. Léon Foucault’s pendulum swung back and forth beside us where it has almost always been since 1851. Christ looked on from his mosaic-ed position on the eastern wall, down at La Convention Nationale sculpture, as if blessing French nationalism … Continue reading Paris when it sizzles at 38 deg C
“Bah,” said Scrooge, “Humbug.”
… some time later…
“I will honour Christmas in my heart, and try to keep it all the year. I will live in the Past, the Present, and the Future. The Spirits of all Three shall strive within me. I will not shut out the lessons that they teach!”
A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens
If you have read even a handful of my blog entries, you will know that one of my favourite writers is Charles Dickens. It was extremely difficult for me to select just 2 quotes for this 1st of December blog. Almost every line is quotable and re-readable.
Did you know that all over the world theatres, book shops and book groups do live annual readings of A Christmas Carol? Continue reading Getting Christmassy on 1st Dec: DIY Advent Calendar
“We have all some experience of a feeling, that comes over us occasionally, of what we are saying and doing having been said and done before, in a remote time – of our having been surrounded, dim ages ago, by the same faces, objects, and circumstances – of our knowing perfectly what will be said next, as if we suddenly remember it!”
David Copperfield by Charles Dickens
The mind is a strange and curious thing.
On Friday last, I stepped out of the office on an errand. Low-lying mist hung over the Thames. London was still. This is a rare and beautiful thing. Putney Bridge was deserted – no hooting or sirens or loud pedestrians. The frenzy and heat of July having past, a large portion of the population on leave, August is an eerie month in the city. London seemed to breathe out a long peaceful breath of relief.
Being bookish, and tending towards melancholy, this mysterious, still, slightly dark, ominous, promise-of-rain weather feeds my imagination. Continue reading Memory