More STEPPENWOLF quotes

I finished Steppenwolf Sunday, then started reading Peter Davies' The French Revolution:  A Beginner's Guide for my History Meetup.

Monday I had dinner with Maria and Sergey at Yorkville Crepes.  Then we went to the Yorkville Library for the Short Story Meetup, where we discussed three more Chekhov stories: "In the Ravine" (which made my jaw drop!), "The Bishop" and "The Lady With the Dog." John S. was there and gave me a copy of the Frank Norris novel McTeague, upon which Erich Von Stroheim's silent classic Greed is based!  Another book that I hope to read someday...

Donald came over for his birthday and I bought a cake at Loblaw's.  I grabbed the first vanilla cake I saw, and its expiry date was tomorrow so I got it half-price--I hope that doesn't make me a cheapskate.

Can't resist posting some more Steppenwolf quotes!

"Now and again I have expressed the opinion that every nation, and even every person, would do better, instead of rocking himself to sleep with political catchwords about war guilt, to ask himself how far his own fault and negligences and evil tendencies are guilty of the war and all the other wrongs of the world, and that therein lies the only possible means of avoiding the next war.  They don't forgive me that, for, of course, they are themselves all guiltless, the Kaiser, the generals, the trade magnates, the politicians, the papers.  Not one of them has the least thing to blame himself for.  Not one has any guilt.  One might believe that everything was for the best, even though a few million men lie under the ground. And mind you, Hermine, even though such abusive articles cannot annoy me any longer, they often sadden me all the same.  Two-thirds of my countrymen read this kind of newspaper, read things written in this tone every morning and every night, are every day worked up and admonished and incited, and robbed of their peace of mind and better feelings by them, and the end and aim of it all is to have the war over again, the next war that draws nearer and nearer, and it will be a good deal more horrible than the last.  All that is perfectly clear and simple.  Any one could comprehend it and reach the same conclusion after a moment's reflection.  But nobody wants to.  Nobody wants to avoid the next war, nobody wants to spare himself and his children the next holocaust if this be the cost."

"You have a picture of life within you, a faith, a challenge, and you were ready for deeds and sufferings and sacrifices, and then you became aware  by degrees that the world asked no deeds and no sacrifices of you whatever, and that life is no poem of heroism with heroic parts to play and so on, but a comfortable room where people are quite content with eating and drinking, coffee and knitting, cards and wireless.  And whoever wants more and has got it in him--the heroic and the beautiful, and the reverence for the great poets or for the saints--is a fool and a Don Quixote.  Good."

"The communion of the saints, in earlier times it was set by painters in a golden heaven, shining, beautiful and full of peace, and it is nothing else but what I meant a moment ago when I called it eternity.  It is there we belong.  There is our home.  It is that which our heart strives for.  And for that reason, Steppenwolf, we long for death....  Ah, Harry, we have to stumble through so much dirt and humbug before we reach home.  And we have no one to guide us.  Our only guide is our homesickness."

"For the first time I understood Goethe's laughter, the laughter of the immortals.  It was a laughter without an object.  It was simply light and lucidity.  It was that which is left over when a true man has passed through all the sufferings, vices, mistakes, passions and misunderstandings of men and got through to eternity and the world of space.  And eternity was nothing else than the redemption of time, its return to innocence, so to speak, and its transformation again into space."

"I was bathed in sweet joy like a rippling pool.  And yet that was only the shell.  Within all was significant and tense with fate, and while, love-lost and tender, I was busied with the little sweet appealing things of love and sank apparently without a care in the caress of happiness, I was conscious all the while in my heart how my fate raced on at breakneck speed, racing and chasing like a frightened horse, straight for the precipitous abyss, spurred on by dread and longing to the consummation of death."

"In the mood between joy and fear that fate and parting imposed on me just now, all the stations and shrines of meditation in my life's pilgrimage caught once more that gleam of pain and beauty that comes from things past; and so too had the little tavern, thick with smoke, among whose patrons I had lately been numbered and whose primitive opiate of a bottle of cheap wine had lately heartened me enough to spend one more night in my lonely bed and to endure life for one more day."

At the movies: "I saw the prophet and his awestruck people pass through to the other side, and behind them I saw the war chariots of Pharaoh come into sight and the Egyptians stop and start on the brink of the sea, and then, when they ventured courageously on, I saw the mountainous waters close over the heads of Pharaoh in all the splendour of his gold trappings and over all his chariots and all his men, recalling, as I saw it, Handel's wonderful duet for two basses in which this event is magnificently sung.  I saw Moses, further, climbing Sinai, a gloomy hero in a gloomy wilderness of rocks, and I looked on as Jehovah in the midst of storm and thunder and lightning imparted the Ten Commandments to him, while his worthless people set up the golden calf at the foot of the mountain and gave themselves over to somewhat roisterous celebrations.  I found it so strange and incredible to be looking on at all this, to be seeing the sacred writ, with its heroes and its wonders, the source in our childhood of the first dawning suspicion of another world than this, presented for money before a grateful public that sat quietly eating the provisions brought with it from home.  A nice little picture, indeed, picked up by chance in the huge wholesale clearance of culture in these days!"

"As a marionette whose thread the operator has let go for a moment wakes to new life after a brief paralysis of death and coma and once more plays its lively part, so did I at this jerk of the magic thread throw myself with the elasticity and eagerness of youth into the tumult from which I had just retreated in the listlessness and weariness of elderly years.  Never did sinner show more haste to get to hell."

"There aren't any police and such like any more.  We can choose, Dora.  Either we stay quietly up here and shoot down every car that tries to pass, or else we can take a car and drive off in it and let others shoot at us. It's all the same which side we take.  I'm for staying here."

"When you listen to radio you are a witness of the everlasting war between idea and appearance, between time and eternity, between the human and the divine.  Exactly, my dear sir, as the radio for ten minutes together projects the most lovely music without regard into the most impossible places, into respectable drawing rooms and attics and into the midst of chattering, guzzling, yawning and sleeping listeners, and exactly as it strips this music of its sensuous beauty, spoils and scratches and beslimes it and yet cannot altogether destroy its spirit, just so does life, the so-called reality, deal with the sublime picture-play of the world and make a hurly-burly of it."

THE WAR LORD

"The pious," she went on meditatively, "after all know most about this.  That is why they set up the saints and what they call the communion of the saints.  The saints, these are the true men, the younger brothers of the Saviour.  We are with them all our lives long in every good deed, in every brave thought, in every love.  The communion of the saints, in earlier times it was set by painters in a golden heaven, shining, beautiful and full of peace, and it is nothing else but what I meant a moment ago when I called it eternity.  It is the kingdom on the other side of time and appearances.  It is there we belong.  There is our home.  It is that which our heart strives for.  And for that reason, Steppenwolf, we long for death.  There you will find your Goethe again and Novalis and Mozart, and I my saints, Christopher, Philip of Neri and all.  There are many saints who at first were sinners.  Even sin can be a way to saintliness, sin and vice.  You will laugh at me, but I often think that even my friend Pablo might be a saint in hiding.  Ah, Harry, we have to stumble through so much dirt and humbug before we reach home.  And we have no one to guide us.  Our only guide is our homesickness"--Steppenwolf

Yesterday John P. took me on a tour of the Art Gallery of Ontario.  I've been there before, but not with someone who had so much to say about the art there. He has more artistic opinions than I do!  He even treated me to dinner at the AGO restaurant afterward. (I had a cornish hen and churro funnel cake.)

That evening I saw Franklin J. Schaffner's The War Lord (for the second time), screening the video for the History Meetup.  It's one of the more intelligent movies about feudalism, with Charlton Heston well cast as the antihero lead.

Last week at the History Meetup, where we discussed Thailand, Bohdan gave me a fancy coffee-table book about the architectural marvels of the world!

STEPPENWOLF quotes

Steppenwolf is an amazing novel, really original!  Here are some quotes from the  Basil Creighton translation I'm reading:

"When the lecturer ascended the platform and began his address, many of his hearers, who had expected a sort of prophet, were disappointed by his rather dapper appearance and conceited air.  And when he proceeded, by way of thanking them for their attendance in such numbers, the Steppenwolf threw me a quick look, a look which criticized both the words and the speaker of them--an unforgettable and frightful look which spoke volumes!  It was a look that did not simply criticize the lecturer, annihilating the famous man with its delicate but crushing irony.  That was the least of it.  It was more sad than ironical; it was indeed utterly and hopelessly sad; it conveyed a quiet despair, born partly of conviction, partly of a mode of thought which had become habitual with him.  This despair of his not only unmasked the conceited lecturer and dismissed with its irony the matter at hand, the expectant attitude of the public, the somewhat presumptuous title under with the lecture was announced--no, the Steppenwolf's look pierced our whole epoch, its whole overwrought activity, the whole surge and strife, the whole vanity, the whole superficial play of a shallow, opinionated intellectuality.  And alas! the look went still deeper, went far below the faults, defects and hopelessness of our time, our intellect, our culture alone.  It went right to the heart of all humanity, it bespoke eloquently in a single second the whole meaning of man's life.  It said: 'See what monkeys we are!  Look, such is man!' and at once all renown, all intelligence, all the attainments of the spirit, all progress towards the sublime, the great and the enduring in man fell away and became a monkey's trick!'"

"Every age, every culture, every custom and tradition has its own character, its own weakness and its own strength, its beauties and ugliness; accepts certain sufferings as matters of course, puts up patiently with certain evils.  Human life is reduced to real suffering, to hell, only when two ages, two cultures and religions overlap."

"When I have neither pleasure nor pain and have ben breathing for a while the lukewarm insipid air of these so-called good and tolerable days, I feel so bad in my childish soul that I smash my moldering lyre of thanksgiving in the face of the slumbering god of contentment and would rather feel the very devil burn in my than this warmth of a well-heated room.  A wild longing for strong emotions and sensations seethes in me, a rage against this toneless, flat, normal and sterile life.  I have a mad impulse to smash something, a warehouse, perhaps, or a cathedral, or myself, to commit outrages, to pull off the wigs of a few revered idols, to provide a few rebellious schoolboys with the longed-for ticket to Hamburg, or to stand one or two representatives of the established order on their heads."

On hearing jazz: "I stood for a moment on the scent, smelling this shrill and blood-raw music, sniffing the atmosphere of the hall angrily, and hankering after it a little too.  One half of this music, the melody, was all pomade and sugar and sentimentality.  The other half was savage, temperamental and vigorous.  Yet the two went artlessly well together and made a whole.  It was the music of decline.  There must have been such music in Rome under the later Emperors.  Compared with Bach and Mozart and real music it was, naturally, a miserable affair; but so was all our art, all our thought, all our makeshift culture in comparison with real culture.  The music was at least sincere, unashamedly primitive and childishly happy.  There was something of the Negro in it, and something of the American, who with all his strength seems so boyishly fresh and childlike to us Europeans.  Was Europe to become the same?  Was it on the way already?"

"Now, whoever thinks that he knows the Steppenwolf and that he can imagine to himself his lamentably divided life is nevertheless in error.  He does not know all by a long way.  He does not know that, as there is no rule without an exception and as one sinner may under certain circumstances be dearer to God than ninety and nine righteous persons, with Harry too there were now and then exceptions and strokes of good luck, and that he could breathe and think and feel sometimes as the wolf, sometimes as the man, clearly and without confusion of the two; and even on very rare occasions, they made peace and lived for one another in such fashion that not merely did one keep watch whilst the other slept but each strengthened and confirmed the other."

"For it appears to be an inborn and imperative need of all men to regard the self as a unit.  However often and however grievously this illusion is shattered, it always mends again.  The judge who sits over the murderer and looks into his face, and at one moment recognizes all the emotions and potentialities and possibilities of the murderer in his own soul and hears the murderer's voice as his own, is at the next moment one and indivisible as the judge, and scuttles back into the shell of his cultivated self and does his duty and condemns the murderer to death.  And if ever the suspicions of their manifold being dawns upon men of unusual powers and of unusually delicate perceptions, so that, as all genius must, they break through the illusion of the unity of the personality and perceive that the self is made up of a bundle of selves, they have only to say so and at once the majority puts them under lock and key, calls science to aid, establishes schizomania and protects humanity from the necessity of hearing the cry of truth from the lips of these unfortunate persons."

"His coffin was set down before a simple hole in the ground, and I saw the clergyman and the other vultures and functionaries of a burial establishment going through their performances, to which they endeavoured to give all the appearance of great ceremony and sorrow with such effect that they outdid themselves and from pure acting they got caught in their own lies and ended by being comic....  Nor could anyone be talked into a pious frame of mind; and when the clergyman addressed the company repeatedly as 'dear fellow-Christians,' all the silent faces of these shop people and master bakers and their wives were turned down in embarrassment and expressed nothing but the wish that this uncomfortable function might soon be over."

On a professor: "He believes in the studies whose servant he is; he believes in the value of mere knowledge and its acquisition, because he believes in progress and evolution.  He has not been through the war, nor is he acquainted with the shattering of the foundations of thought by Einstein (that, thinks he, only concerns the mathematicians). He sees nothing of the preparations for the next war that are going on all round him.  He hates Jews and Communists.  He is a good, unthinking, happy child, who takes himself seriously; and, in fact, he is much to be envied."

"He was holding a newspaper to which he subscribed, an organ of the militarist and jingoist party, and after shaking hands he pointed to it and commented on a paragraph about a namesake of mine--a publicist called Haller, a bad fellow and a rotten patriot--who had been making fun of the Kaiser and expressing the view that his own country was no less responsible for the outbreak of the war than the enemy nations.  There was a man for you!  The editor had given him his deserts and put him in the pillory.  However, when the professor saw that I was not interested, we passed to other topics, and the possibility that this horrid fellow might be sitting in front of them did not even remotely occur to either of them.  Yet so it was, I myself was that horrid fellow.  Well, why make a fuss and upset people?  I laughed to myself, but gave up all hope now of a pleasant evening."

On a picture of Goethe: "'Let us hope,' said I, 'that Goethe did not really look like this.  This conceited air of nobility, the great man ogling the distinguished company, and beneath the manly exterior what a world of charming sentimentality!  Certainly, there is much to be said against him.  I have a good deal against his venerable pomposity myself.  But to represent him like this--no, that is going too far.'"

"Before this in any case I didn't see eye to eye with the professor.  Like nearly all professors, he is a great patriot, and during the war did his bit in the way of deceiving the public, with the best intentions, of course.  I, however, am opposed to war.  But that's all one."

STEPPENWOLF

"He who has known the other days, the angry ones of gout attacks, or those with that wicked headache rooted behind the eyeballs that casts a spell on every nerve of eye and ear with a fiendish delight in torture, or soul-destroying, evil days of inward vacancy and despair, when, on this distracted earth, sucked dry by the vampires of finance, the world of men and of so-called culture grins back at us with the lying, vulgar, brazen glamour of a Fair and dogs us with the persistence of an emetic, and when all is concentrated and focused to the last pitch of the intolerable upon your own sick self--he who has known these days of hell may be content indeed with normal half-and-half days like today"--Steppenwolf

My birthday feast was delayed a day because someone was out shopping late, but I didn't mind.

Friday we got a new oven, refrigerator and dishwasher from Costco.  Now I'll be able to bake gingerbread again! We'll also be able to make scalloped potatoes and ham, and chicken curry.

Saturday afternoon I went to the Articled Meetup at the Reference Library.  We were discussing the corona virus, which didn't really interest me but the group looks promising.

At the singing group Sunday, we sang the Broadway show tune "You Gotta Have Heart."

Today I made my bed, only to find out that someone had earlier scattered some odour-eating baking soda on the mattress, so I had to unmake it to remove the stuff! (I should have procrastinated like I usually do...)

Today I finally finished the Thai history book. (In 1978 their top export was tapioca!) So I started reading Hermann Hesse's psychological novel Steppenwolf, translated from German.  I've read thirty-odd pages and it's pretty crazy!

My 58th

Today was my 58th birthday.  Maria had a surprise for me--we got a guided tour of the Royal Canadian Military Institute!  Among other things, we got to see the seat the Red Baron was sitting in when he got shot down.  Sergei, Malcolm, Krystyna and John S. were also there.  Afterward, Debi joined us for lunch at the Midi bistro, where they put a candle on my profiteroles.  Maria gave me an old copy of the collected poems of Lord Tennyson. (I'd been reciting "The Eagle" by heart.) And John S. has given me a gift subscription to the US history magazine American Heritage.

Elizabeth, whom I had lunch with last week, gave me a cute birthday card.  She has nice handwriting (a dying art, of course).

Sunday I went to the singing group's rehearsal, which was going to start over an hour earlier, but when I got there it turned out that it had been cancelled because of the snow! (The email came just after I left, of course.) Oh well, I was glad to get out of the house.

Monday night I went to the Short Story Meetup.  We discussed three more Chekhov stories: "The Student," "Anna on the Neck" and "The House With the Mezzanine."

The Thai history book is getting more interesting!  Chulalungkorn was King around the same time as Meiji's Japan and embarked on a similar program of modernization and developing a nation-state, but while Meiji inherited from the shoguns a bureaucracy that made top-down changes easier, Chulalungkorn (also known by the shorter name Rama V) had to work more gradually and wait for many in the old order to retire or die.  Which makes his achievements all the more impressive!

On Youtube I've been watching "Musical Hell," a channel with reviews of bad musical movies.  I have to admit I have a soft spot for Xanadu, even the silly animated scene!

1917

"When he crossed the river by the ferry boat and afterwards, mounting the hill, looked at his village and towards the west where the cold purple sunset lay a narrow streak of light, he thought that truth and beauty which had guided human life there in the garden and in the yard of the high priest had continued without interruption to this day, and had evidently always been the chief thing in human life and in all earthly life, indeed; and the feeling of youth, health, vigour--he was only twenty-two--and the inexpressible sweet expectation of happiness, of unknown mysterious happiness, took possession of him little by little, and life seemed to him enchanting, marvellous, and full of lofty meaning"--Anton Chekhov, "The Student"

Wednesday I got my health card renewed at the depot in the basement of the Canadian Tire near Rosedale station, with just a week to spare. (I was surprised how quickly it went.) But I was careless and stopped for lunch at Tim Horton's because I wanted to try their strawberry confetti doughnut.  So I was late getting home, which made things inconvenient for Moira because she had somewhere to go and John was late arriving and we can't leave Father alone in the house while he's unwell. Next time I'll be more careful!

Thursday night I saw Sam Mendes' 1917 at the Market Square with the History Meetup. (They've installed posh new seats there.) It was gripping and believable, and the one-shot gimmick didn't distract.  I didn't recognize Colin Firth as the general--he isn't the sort of actor who always plays himself!  Nice photography by Roger Deakins.

Yesterday I had lunch with Elizabeth from my memoir group at Les Moulins Lafayette. (I had a ham and cheese croissant and a briochette with jam.) Elizabeth is very interesting:  she's over 80 and survived the Polish Occupation!  To this day she won't wear black leather coats (part of the SS uniform) and the smell of burnt wood bothers her. Compared to people like her, Canadians like me don't know much about life.

I finished translating that Korean book about the engineer Jang Yongshil.  We have a book of short stories in their original French somewhere around, so maybe I'll try translating them.

Moira just finished reading The Peanuts Papers, a book of essays about the comic strip Peanuts, and now I'm going to look at it.

I hope I'm through the slow part of the Thailand history book.  I'm getting close to the part about King Mongkut, later played by Yul Brynner.

Robinson Crusoe

Last Tuesday I spoke to my shrink and got the meds business straightened out, and now I'm taking them again.  One of the side effects of the gap was that I had more intense dreams:  in one I was in the movie Titanic, and it was a nightmare not because the ship was going to sink but because I was in the world of movie cliches! (The working class has better parties etc.)

Thursday my book club discussed Robinson Crusoe.  I know I'm not the best person for leading discussions--my forte is planning and organizing--and I wish someone else would take the lead.

Sunday the singing group had to meet at Carolyn's house.  We tried "Donald, Where's Your Troosers?" and the round "White Coral Bells."

I've been watching the first season of Mad Men, but it doesn't hold up that well.  The stories are a bit "hit and miss," like with The Sopranos.  But Alison Brie as Trudy Campbell is very pretty! (The show had a lot of pretty actresses.)

I'm typing this with that plush Julia doll in my lap.  So sue me!

LITTLE WOMEN

"The day will come when you wish you had done a little evil to do a greater good!"--Kingdom of Heaven

Publisher: "If the main character is a girl, make sure that she is married by the end.  Or dead.  Either way"--Little Women

Thursday I saw Ridley Scott's Kingdom of Heaven (for the second time) at the History Meetup screening.  Despite being on a smaller screen, it definitely improves with second viewing--the extra hour in the director's cut was very valuable.  I recall it had some intelligence, but this time I noticed it was very intelligent and well-cast.  Eva Green was gorgeous, though I had to wonder how the Queen of a city as sunny as Jerusalem kept her skin so pale. (She should play an 18th-century lady, like Marisa Berenson in Barry Lyndon!)

Saturday one of my Meetups was going to eat at the Mandarin Restaurant near Finch & Dufferin.  I got there, but the event had been cancelled because of snowy weather.  Oh well, I ate there anyway and it was a fun adventure getting there and back. (First time I've gone as far north on the Spadina line as Finch West--someday I'll have to visit my old York University campus again!) The Mandarin salad bar is slipping: they no longer have shredded carrots and corn.

Sunday we had lunch with Puitak and Gordon at King Noodle for the Chinese New Year's.  My singing group did that song, "Something to sing about, this land of hours." (I remember how in Grade 5 we had the Canadian geography textbook titled This Land of Hours, then we used the same textbook in Grade 8!  Just like using the same French textbook in the fifth, sixth and seventh grades...)

Tonight we finally saw Greta Gerwig's Little Women at the Scotiabank. (I had to move it from the Varsity at the last minute because the screening time there had changed.) It takes a highly unconventional, non-linear narrative approach, and I wouldn't recommend it to anyone who hasn't read Louisa May Alcott's book or at least seen an earlier adaptation, unless you like confusion. It was hard for me to get into, but about an hour into it something clicked, and I was watching a wonderful movie!  It even brought me to tears at times.  

It was a handsome production, but believably so, not like some movies where the beauty of the sets and costumes distracts from the story.  There were a lot of superb moments, like when Marmee is preparing a package for a soldier fighting in the Civil War and impulsively adds her own scarf! (Some people are more good than wise...) In that mother role, Laura Dern reminded me why she's one of my favorite actresses!  I also liked Chris Cooper's cameo as the rich neighbour.

Half a dozen people came to the event. We talked about the movie afterward at a bubble tea restaurant where I ordered a pretty good kumquat lemonade with coconut pudding topping.  There were trailers for a live-action Mulan and a new version of Jane Austen's Emma, and we may go to see both of them!

Short stories Meetup

"I look at this life and see the arrogance and the idleness of the strong, the ignorance and bestiality of the weak, the horrible poverty everywhere, overcrowding, drunkenness, hypocrisy, falsehood. . . .  Meanwhile in all the houses, all the streets, there is peace; out of fifty thousand people who live in our town there is not one to kick against it all. Think of the people who go to the market for food: during the day they eat; at night they sleep, talk nonsense, marry, grow old, piously follow their dead to the cemetery; one never sees or hears those who suffer, and all the horror of life goes on somewhere behind the scenes. Everything is quiet, peaceful, and against it all there is only the silent protest of statistics; so many go mad, so many gallons are drunk, so many children die of starvation. . . .  And such a state of things is obviously what we want; apparently a happy man only feels so because the unhappy bear their burden in silence, but for which happiness would be impossible. It is a general hypnosis. Every happy man should have some one with a little hammer at his door to knock and remind him that there are unhappy people, and that, however happy he may be, life will sooner or later show its claws, and some misfortune will befall him ­­ illness, poverty, loss, and then no one will see or hear him, just as he now neither sees nor hears others. But there is no man with a hammer, and the happy go on living, just a little fluttered with the petty cares of every day, like an aspen ­tree in the wind ­­ and everything is all right"--Chekhov, "Gooseberries"

I've had to go without my anti-depressants for a week or two until I meet my shrink next week and we settle the paperwork.  Oddly, in the short term I'm feeling a bit happier! (The same thing happened the last time I had a significant interruption.) And I've been thinking of lots of things to write about here...

Last Friday I finished Robinson Crusoe and borrowed David K. Wyatt's Thailand:  A Short History from the Northern District library, which I'm reading for the History Meetup. Thailand's history is very complex:  the nation-state emerged gradually over centuries!  The 19th century is the period that interests me most, when it was stuck between the Chinese, British, French, Dutch and Spanish empires. (This was before the Americans seized the Philippines and replaced the Spanish in the region.) The Thais have a long history of surviving difficult neighbours--imagine having the Khmer Rouge on your border!

Last night was the first event of the Short Stories Meetup I just joined.  We met upstairs at Panera's Bakery and discussed three Chekhov stories: "In Exile," "The Black Monk" and "Rothschild's Fiddle." (I also said a bit about the same author's "Gooseberries.") We'll be doing more Chekhov next month, but I have about a million ideas about what we can do in the future...

Chekhov's big concern, it seems to me, is the human soul. ("In Exile" reminded me of my difficult school years...) One difficult thing about my meds gap is that it sometimes causes me to read slowly.  "In Exile" and "The Black Monk" I read online because I couldn't find them in the library, and both stories took me hours.  Part of the problem was from reading them online:  it's easier to focus on my reading when I have the words on paper.  I was afraid I wouldn't finish in time, but I managed to read "Rothschild's Fiddle" on the last day.  In that case, I found it in a collection of Moira's with an introduction by Civil War historian Shelby Foote, of all people.

Also yesterday, I visited my friend Bev for the first time in ages.  I brought Julia along, and she was a hit!

I lost the sheet on which I had the dues-paying History Meetup members write their name, so I guess I'll have to have an honour system instead.

Last night, I got home from the Meetup, went to bed at 9:30 or so, and slept around the clock.  I often go to sleep at 7:00 or so, but I usually wake up after a few hours and it's a long time before I get back to sleep. (No doubt going without the meds had something to do with it.) I hope I can continue this way--being awake past midnight is a sin!

History Meetup

"This frequently gave me occasion to observe, and that with wonder, that however it had pleas'd God, in his Providence, and in the government of the works of his hands, to take from so great a part of the world of his creatures, the best uses to which their faculties, and the powers of their souls are adapted; yet that he has bestow'd upon them the same powers, the same reason, the same affections, the same sentiments of kindness and obligation, the same passions and resentments of wrongs; the same sense of gratitude, sincerity, fidelity, and all the capacities of doing good, and receiving good, that he has given to us; and that when he pleases to offer to them occasions of exerting these, they are as ready, nay, more ready to apply them to the right uses for which they were bestow'd, than we are"--Robinson Crusoe

"Are there any left?" "Too many!"--The Rise of Skywalker

Yesterday, at the Yorkdale, I saw the ninth Star Wars movie, The Rise of Skywalker. (It was an afternoon screening, and hardly anyone was there.) Like the previous ones, it was competent but not really necessary.

Today I went to see my psychiatrist, but I'd forgotten that my appointment was the day before! (I'm so used to going on Thursdays that it didn't register with me that this one was on Wednesday...) I had some paperwork, but it'll have to wait a couple of weeks till my new appointment.

Also today, a doctor came to see Father so we had to make everything clean. (My eyes just aren't as sharp about noticing dust as the others in the family!)

Tonight was the first History Meetup of the new year, which I'm now doing on Thursdays. (The subject was the Crusades.) There were a dozen people paying the $5 annual dues, so I'm flush with cash just now.  I brought my Julia doll to serve as the talking stone, and she seemed popular.

I'm almost finished Robinson Crusoe.

New year

"A little after noon I found the sea very calm, and the tyde ebb'd so far out, that I could come within a quarter of a mile of the ship; and here I found a fresh renewing of my grief, for I saw evidently, that if we had kept on board, we had been all safe, that is to say, we had all got safe on shore, and I had not been so miserable as to be left entirely destitute of all comfort and company, as I now was; this forced tears from my eyes again, but as there was little relief in that, I resolv'd, if possible, to get to the ship, so I pull'd off my clothes, for the weather was hot to extremity, and took the water, but when I came to the ship, my difficulty was still greater to know how to get on board, for as she lay a ground, and high out of the water, there was nothing within my reach to lay hold of, I swam round her twice, and the second time I spy'd a small piece of a rope, which I wonder'd I did not see at first, hang down by the fore-chains so low, as that with great difficulty I got hold of it, and by the help of that rope, got up into the fore-castle of the ship, here I found that the ship was bulg'd, and had a great deal of water in her hold, but that she lay so on the side of a bank of hard sand, or rather earth, that her stern lay lifted up upon the bank, and her head low almost to the water; by this means all her quarter was free, and all that was in that part was dry; for you may be sure my first work was to search and to see what was spoil'd and what was free; and first I found that all the ship's provisions were dry and untouch'd by the water, and being very well dispos'd to eat, I went to the bread-room and fill'd my pockets with bisket, and eat it as I went about other things, for I had no time to lose; I also found some rum in the great cabin, of which I took a large dram, and which I had indeed need enough of to spirit me for what was before me: Now I wanted nothing but a boat to furnish my self with many things which I foresaw would be very necessary to me"--Robinson Crusoe (notice the continuity error?)

John got another dumpster and we've been filling it with wood, drywall and cement from the house renovation, as well as some junk we've had lying around for ages.  It's almost full!

Thursday night I was going to see Little Women with the History Meetup, but when I got there--45 minutes before the start time--it was already sold out! (It must be a big hit.) I met Aru and suggested we see Cats or A Hidden Life instead, but she'd seen both of them already!  So we went to Tim Hortons and gabbed for a while. (If we'd waited a few minutes more, a third person could have joined us...)

My father gave me $500 for Christmas.  Friday I went to Indigo Books at Eaton Centre and bought a stuffed toy:  Julia the autistic Muppet! (She'll make a good talking stone for my History Meetup.) Yesterday I went to The Beguiling and bought some comics.  I got Nonnonba, Shigeru Mizuki's graphic memoir of how yokai spirit legends influenced his childhood and the rest of his life; a book about the works of manga and anime master Hayao Miyazaki; and some Classics Illustrated comics.

I finished moving to the lists all the Tweeters with over 20,000 followers who haven't followed me back. (My lists now have about 1500 Tweeters between them!) Now I'm removing from my follow list those with the lowest re-following rates.  I'm now following less than 4600, while almost 3000 are following me.

I've started translating that new children's book about Jang Yongshil. (I'm tempted to buy the old book online!) And we've started watching Mad Men again on Netflix.  Sterling & Cooper reminds me of Never-Neverland...

unfollowerstats.com

"As to going home, shame opposed the best motions that offered to my thoughts; and it immediately occurr'd to me how I should be laugh'd at among the neighbours, and should be asham'd to see, not my father and mother only, but even every body else; from whence I have since often observed, how incongruous and irrational the common temper of mankind is, especially of youth, to that reason which ought to guide them in such cases, viz. that they are not asham'd to sin, and yet are asham'd to repent; not asham'd of the action for which they ought justly to be esteemed fools, but are asham'd of the returning, which only can make them be esteem'd wise men"--Robinson Crusoe

I found a useful Twitter-related app at unfollowerstats.com .  It allows you to look at a list of all the Tweeters you've followed who haven't followed you back, along with stats like how many Tweeters are following them.  I've been going through that list and removing everyone with over 15,000 followers--they aren't likely to follow me back, or care if I unfollow them.  Most of them I've moved into my Twitter lists so I'll still have a chance of reading their Tweets.  I now have a dozen lists: Causes, Authors, Politicians, Artists, TV News, Newspapers, Magazines, Leftists, Locals, Literati, Characters, and My Inner Circle.  Between them is a total of about 1200 Tweeters.  With this many removed, I'll have an easy time getting to 3000 followers while still following within the limit of 5000!

Today I had lunch with Maria and Sergei at the Taiwanese restaurant Coco, so I could return the mitt she lost in our back yard.  Then I went to the North York Central library and picked up a couple of children's books about the Korean inventor Jang Yongshil. (Last summer I spent a while translating another such book but only got halfway through, and that book's disappeared since.)

I've finally finished the Crusades history and started reading Daniel Defoe's Robinson Crusoe (for the third time) for my Book Club.  25 pages into it and he still hasn't reached the island--there's a preliminary adventure where he's enslaved in Morocco and escapes to Brazil.

We finished the Civil War documentary and started watching The Last Czar, a Netflix series about Nicholas II. Rasputin is speaking in working-class British, which actually works pretty well.  I've also been watching the Amazon Prime series American Playboy:  The Hugh Hefner Story, which is perversely fascinating. (He was a true visionary, but the vision he catered to and even embodied was a rather pitiful one, for guys who want to have the trappings of sophisticated manhood while behaving like little boys at play!)

On Youtube I found a channel with someone playing piano arrangements of pieces like "Jingle Bells" and "Maple Leaf Rag" in jazzy meters like 5/4 and 7/8! (Someone should arrange Dave Brubeck's "Take Five" and "Unsquare Dance" in regular meters...)

The kitchen's turn

Today John started renovating the kitchen.  The kitchen's between Father's room and the rest of the house, so when it gets hard to navigate I'm going to trade rooms with him for a while! (If I can bring my computer, no problemo.) But that won't be for several more days.  We're going to do our cooking on a hotplate in the dining room for the next while--Moira made omelet today and it came out fine.  When the kitchen's finished we'll be ready to buy a new stove and fridge.

This first day he was bringing down the ceiling, and Moira and I were helping him tote the detritus out back:  wood (full of long nails), drywall and plaster.  We were wearing these dust masks, and the only problem is that when you're outdoors and have it over your nose it can make your glasses fog up!

Sunday afternoon I saw 63 Up at the Bloor.  That series is getting even more powerful as the people grow older. (The librarian is dead and the physicist has cancer.) Some of them don't think much of Brexit!

On Twitter I'm close to 2800 followers!  I've been going through the Tweeters I follow and moving hundreds of non-followers onto the lists I keep so I won't have to follow them directly and can leave room for more who will follow.  I was looking at my "characters" list last week and saw a Tweet by Jan Wong, a reporter I admire, recalling when she was starting out and had to enter a gentleman's club through the back door. I wrote a comment comparing her experience to an episode of Mad Man I'd seen involving a club where, one character said, a woman could only enter inside a cake--and Jan Wong liked my comment!  That meant a lot to me.

Last week when Maria was visiting she lost one of our mittens, and now it's turned up in our back yard!

I finished the first season of Dragon Ball and switched to watching the  original "harem" anime Tenchi Muyou! on Youtube.  Yeah, it's a guilty pleasure for me.

ZULU

"He [his father] bid me observe it, and I should always find, that the calamities of life were shared among the upper and lower part of mankind; but that the middle station had the fewest disasters, and was not expos'd to so many vicissitudes as the higher or lower part of mankind; nay, they were not subjected to so many distempers and uneasinesses either of body or mind, as those were who, by vicious living, luxury and extravagancies on one hand, or by hard labour, want of necessaries, and mean or insufficient diet on the other hand, bring distempers upon themselves by the natural consequences of their way of living; that the middle station of life was calculated for all kind of vertues [sic] and all kind of enjoyments; that peace and plenty were the hand-maids of a middle fortune; that temperance, moderation, quietness, health, society, all agreeable diversions, and all desirable pleasures, were the blessings attending the middle station of life; that this way men went silently and smoothly thro' the world, and comfortably out of it, not embarrass'd with the labours of the hands or of the head, not sold to the life of slavery for daily bread, or harrast with perplex'd circumstances, which rob the soul of peace, and the body of rest; not enrag'd with the passion of envy, or secret burning lust of ambition for great things; but in easy circumstances sliding gently thro' the world, and sensibly tasting the sweets of living, without the bitter feeling that they are happy, and learning by every day's experience to know it more sensibly"--Robinson Crusoe

After his first battle: "How do you feel?" "Sick." "If you feel sick, you're alive"--Zulu

Sergei and Maria met me for lunch Monday.  Later I went to The Bay and bought new pajamas, long johns, socks and underwear.  I like the feel of fresh cotton!  Tuesday I got my flu shot at Shoppers Drug Mart, and it took longer than it should have:  I didn't hear them when they called my name.

Last night I watched Zulu (for the second time) with the History Meetup. It's a rousing, somewhat old-fashioned "stiff upper lip" war movie.

I've started binge-watching the anime Dragon Ball again, this time dubbed. (So sue me.) And Moira and I are finally watching Ken Burns' The Civil War, this time through Kanopy streaming.

I've been thinking about what Jeremy Corbyn should have done differently.  If it had been me, back in 2016 I would have offered to support the bill for negotiating Brexit if the government agreed to have a confirmation referendum for the specific deal they came up with.  And I would have said something like, "The British people have voted to leave the EU, but that doesn't mean they have to accept whatever deal they're offered.  They have the right to say, 'This deal isn't good enough.  Come back with something better.'" If the Conservatives agreed to it Labour would have put its stamp on the process.  If they didn't (more likely), Labour would have been in a better position to oppose Brexit.

More recently, I would have suggested a coalition with Green leader Caroline Lucas as Prime Minister, since neither Labour nor the Liberal Democrats would agree to making the other party's leader PM. (The saddest words are, "It might have been...") I must say that the Remain campaign managed to do things ineptly both in 2016 and 2019.

John's going to start renovating the kitchen soon.  We've moved everything into the dining room, except for the stove and the sink.  Today I cooked fettucine alfredo, and it was a headache finding everything!

Jackhammer days

"It's better to be holding the gun than to be the one running from the gunman!"--Ozark

A couple of days ago we rented a big dumpster on wheels to collect waste from our home renovations.  We put in a big pile of dirt from the back yard where we'd been dumping it from the basement.  Some of it was frozen--the first dirt got covered with a layer of snow, which got covered by new dirt--so John had to use his jackhammer on it!

When I first saw the dumpster, I thought, "We'll never fill that!"  But we did fill it in two days!  Besides that dirt pile, we put in some mortar and brick fragments from the former chimney. Then yesterday, we toted some more mud from the basement straight to the dumpster.  As we progressed, the mud got wetter and wetter, and Moira and I had to put our filthy coats in the washing machine afterward!  Oh well, it's the least we can do considering how hard John's been working at it.

Yes, I am depressed about the British election.  But I can't help feeling that even if Labour had come out squarely for leaving the EU or squarely for remaining, or had been led by a more "electable" leader than Jeremy Corbyn, they'd still have lost.  I felt the same way after the 1992 election.  The bottom fell out of John Major's government with the currency crisis four months later (if only it had happened four months earlier!), but the next election only happened after Tony Blair had taken over.  

New Labour embodied an avoidable sellout:  if they'd been led by Stalin they'd still have won in 1997.  (Beware the "post hoc ergo propter hoc" fallacy.) I worry that history will repeat itself.  But before you swallow the electability myth, consider the popular vote figures.  Corbyn in 2017 got a share just three points lower than Blair in 1997, and not much different from Blair in 2001.  Corbyn in 2019 got just three points less than Blair in 2005, and a somewhat higher share than Brown in 2010 and Mandelson in 2015.  But the earlier elections had higher Liberal Democrat and lower Conservative shares.

I'm also reminded of the 1972 election when the working class chose Nixon over McGovern, leading the Democrats to embrace the electability myth and introduce super delegates.  Again I doubt that any other Democrat could have won.  At the risk of seeming elitist, I'd have to blame the voters themselves!  And once again I'm blaming the knee-jerk blue-collar Brexiteers, who've made the wrong choice for the wrong reasons, and are likely to regret their choice pretty soon (as with 1972!). And don't forget the pro-EU Conservatives who held their nose and put party loyalty first.

As for the mainstream press' anti-Corbyn bias, some people have said, "But the press has always been against Labour." True, and over the last century that's made the difference more often than not.  And one last point:  things would have been different if the Liberal Democrats had agreed to install a caretaker government under Corbyn a few months ago, but for Jo Swinson keeping Corbyn out of power was a higher priority than preventing Brexit. (As it was for all too many voters.)

Finished the second season of Ozark last night. (My favourite character's Ruth.) One thing that bugs me about Netflix is that they'll move you to the next episode only 15 seconds after the previous episode's closing credits start, so I didn't have time to read them until the very last episode.  I noticed that the redneck patriarch and the cartel lawyer were played by Peter Mullan and Janet McTeer, both British actors!

More DON QUIXOTE quotes

I've finished Don Quixote, so I decided to post some more quotes from it!

"The housekeeper can certainly stop reciting S. Apollonia's prayer, for I know it is the clear decision of the heavenly spheres that Senor Don Quixote should once again put into effect his original and noble thoughts, and it would weigh heavily on my conscience if I did not convey to this knight and persuade him that the strength of his valiant arm and the virtue of his valorous spirit should tarry and be constrained no more, for delay thwarts the righting of wrongs, the defense of orphans, the honoring of damsels, the favoring of widows, the protections of married women, and other things of this nature that touch on, relate to, depend on, and are attached to the order of errant chivalry."

"Let nobody say of me, dear master, that when all the bread's eaten he leaves; no, for I don't come from ungrateful stock; everybody knows, especially in my village, what kind of people the Panzas were, and I come from them, and besides, because of your many good actions and even more good words, I know and understand your grace's desire to show me favor; if I tried to work out exactly how much my salary would be, it was to please my wife; when she puts her had to convincing you of something, no mallet can press down the hoops of a barrel the way she can press you to do what she wants, but the truth is, a man must be a man, and a woman a woman, and since I'm a man everywhere, which I cannot deny, I also want to be a man in my own house, no matter who's inside; and so, there's nothing more to do except for your grace to prepare your will and its codicil so it can't be re-soaked, and for us to be on our way soon so that the soul of Senor Sanson doesn't suffer anymore, because he says his conscience demands that he persuade your grace to go out into the world for a third time; and I offer to serve your grace again, faithfully and loyally and as well as and better than all the squires who have ever served knights errant in past or present times."

"Don Quixote and his squire were now alone, and as soon as Sanson rode away Rocinante began to neigh and the donkey to snort, and both knight and squire considered this a good sign and a fortunate omen; although, if truth be told, the donkey snorted and brayed more than the horse neighed, and from this Sancho concluded that his good fortune would exceed and go beyond that of his master, and I do not know if he based this on the astrology he may have known, since the history says nothing about that, although he had been heard to say whenever he stumbled or fell that he would have been happy if he had never left his house, because the only thing one got from stumbling or falling was a torn shoe or broken ribs, and though he was a fool, in this he was not far off the mark."

"The emperor wished to see the famous Temple of the Rotunda, which in antiquity was called the Temple of All the Gods, and today is known by the holier name of All Saints, and is the most complete surviving building of all those erected by the gentiles in Rome, and the one that best preserves the fame of its founders for grandeur and magnificence; it has the shape of half an orange and is extremely large, and it is well-lit, though the only light is from a window, or rather, a round skylight at the top, and it was there that the emperor looked down at the building, and at his side was a Roman gentleman who pointed out the beauties and subtleties of the great structure and its memorable architecture; and when they had come down, he said to the emperor: 'A thousand times, Most Sacred Majesty, I have felt the desire to embrace Your Majesty and then throw myself down from that skylight so my fame in the world will be eternal.' The emperor responded: 'I thank you for not having put so wicked a thought into effect, and from now on I shall not give you occasion to test your loyalty; I command you never to speak to me again or to be anywhere I am.' And with these words he performed a great service for him."

"Remember everything and do not miss a detail of how she receives you:  if her color changes as you give her my message; if she becomes agitated or troubled when she hears my name; if she moves about on her pillows, if you happen to find her in the richly furnished antechamber of her rank; if she is standing, look at her to see if she shifts from one foot to another; if she repeats her answer two or three times; if she changes from gentle to severe, from harsh to loving; if she raises her hand to her hair to smooth it, although it is not disarranged, finally, my friend, observe all her actions and movements, because if you related them to me just as they occurred, I shall interpret what she keeps hidden in the secret places of her heart in response to the fact of my love; for you must know, Sancho, if you do not know it already, that with lovers, the external actions and movements, revealed when the topic of their love arises, are reliable messengers bringing the news of what transpires deep in their souls."

"And so this is what Sancho did, and he gave Rocinante, the same freedom he had given the donkey, for their friendship was so unusual and so firm that it has been claimed, in a tradition handed down from fathers to sons, that the author of this true history devoted particular chapters to it, but for the sake of maintaining the decency and decorum so heroic a history deserves, he did not include them, although at times he is remiss in his purpose and writes that as soon as the two animals were together they would begin to scratch each other, and then, when they were tired and satisfied, Rocinante would lay his neck across the donkey's--it would extend almost half a meter on the other side--and, staring intently at the ground, the two of them could stand this way for three days, or, at least, for as long as they were permitted to do so or were not compelled by hunger to look for food."

"'I do disavow them,' responded Sancho, 'and in that sense and for that reason your grace could dump a whole whorehouse on me and my children and my wife, because everything they do and say deserves the best compliments, and I want to see them again so much that I pray God to deliver me from mortal sin, which would be the same as delivering me from this dangerous squirely work that I've fallen into for the second time, tempted and lured by a purse with a hundred ducados that I found one day in the heart of the Sierra Morena; and the devil places before my eyes, here, there, not here but over there, a sack filled with doblones, and at every step I take I seem to touch it with my hand, and put my arms around it, and take it to my house, and hold mortgages, and collect rents, and live like a prince, and when I'm thinking about that, all the trials I suffer with this simpleton of a master seem easy to bear, even though I know he's more of a madman than a knight.'"

"And so, the history tells us that when Bachelor Sanson Carrasco advised Don Quixote to return to the chivalric undertakings he had abandoned, it was because he first had spoken privately with the priest and the barber regarding the steps that could be taken to prevail upon Don Quixote to remain quietly and peacefully at home and not be disturbed by ill-fated adventures; and the decision of this meeting was, by unanimous vote and the particular support of Carrasco, that they would allow Don Quixote to leave, since it seemed impossible to stop him, and that Sanson, as a knight errant, would meet him on the road and engage in combat with him, for there was no lack of reasons to fight, and he would vanquish him, on the assumption that this would be an easy thing to do, and it would be agreed and accepted that the vanquished would be at the mercy of the victor, and when Don Quixote had been vanquished, the bachelor-knight would order him to return to his village and his house and not leave again for two years, or until he had commanded otherwise; it was clear that the vanquished Don Quixote would undoubtedly obey in order not to contravene or disrespect the laws of chivalry, and it might be that in the time of his seclusion he would forget his illusions, or a worthwhile remedy would be found to cure his madness."

A Morisco expelled from Spain: "And so I arranged, as a prudent man, I think, and as one who knows that by a certain date the house where he lives will be taken away and he'll need to have another one to move into, I arranged, as I said, to leave the village alone, without my family, and find a place where I could take them in comfort and without the haste with which others were leaving; because I saw clearly, as did all our elders, that those proclamations were not mere threats, as some were saying, but real laws that would be put into effect at the appointed time; I was forced to believe this truth because I knew the hateful and foolish intentions of our people, and they were such that it seems to me it was divine inspiration that moved His Majesty to put into effect so noble a resolution, not because all of us were guilty, for some were firm and true Christians, though these were so few they could not oppose those who were not, but because it is not a good idea to nurture a snake in your bosom or shelter enemies in your house."

"Know then, Senor, that my name is Bachelor Sanson Carrasco; I am from the same village as Don Quixote of La Mancha, whose madness and foolishness move all of us who know him to pity; I have been one of those who pitied him most, and believing that his health depends on his remaining peacefully in his own village and in his own house, I devised a way to oblige him to do that, and so some three months ago I took to the road as a knight errant, calling myself the Knight of the Mirrors, and intending to do combat with him and defeat him without doing him harm, and setting as a condition of our combat that the vanquished would have to obey the victor; what I planned to ask of him, because I already considered him defeated, was that he return to his village and not leave it again for a year, for in that time he could be cured; but fate ordained otherwise, because he defeated me and toppled me from my horse, and so my idea did not succeed; he continued on his way, and I returned home, defeated, chagrined, and bruised from my fall, which was a dangerous one, yet not even this could diminish my desire to find him again and defeat him, as you have witnessed today."

"'Don Quixote, at that very moment, without regard for the time or the hour, withdrew with the bachelor and the priest, and when they were alone he told them briefly about his defeat and the obligation he was under not to leave his village for a year, which he intended to obey to the letter and not violate in the slightest, as befitted a knight errant bound by the order and demands of knight errantry, and that he had thought of becoming a shepherd for the year and spending his time in the solitude of the countryside, where he could freely express his amorous thoughts and devoted himself to the virtuous pastoral occupation; and he implored them, if they did not have too much to do and were not prevented by more important matters, to be his companions, and he would buy enough sheep and livestock to give them the name of shepherds; and he told them that the most important part of the business had already been taken care of, because he had given them names that would fit them like a glove.  The priest asked him to say what they were.  Don Quixote responded that he would be called Shepherd Quixotiz, and the bachelor would be Shepherd Carrascon, and the priest, Shepherd Curambro, and Sancho Panza, Shepherd Pancino."

"For me alone was Don Quixote born, and I for him; he knew how to act, and I to write; the two of us alone are one, despite and regardless of the false Tordesillan writer who dared, or will dare, to write with a coarse and badly designed ostrich feather about the exploits of my valorous knight, for it is not a burden for his shoulders or a subject for his cold creativity; and you will warn him, if you ever happen to meet him, to let the weary and crumbling bones of Don Quixote rest in the grave, and not attempt, contrary to all the statutes of death, to carry them off to Castilla la Vieja, removing him from the tomb where he really and truly lies, incapable of undertaking a third journey or a new sally; for to mock the many undertaken by so many knights errant, the two he made were enough, and they have brought delight and pleasure to everyone who knows of them, in these kingdoms as well as those abroad."

OZARK

"I have more arms than letters, and my inclination is toward arms, for I was born under the influence of the planet Mars, and so I am almost compelled to follow his path, and follow it I must despite the rest of the world; it will be useless to try to persuade me that I do not wish what heaven wishes, fortune ordains, reason demands, and, above all, what my will desires; for, knowing as I do the countless travails that accompany knight errantry, I also know the infinite benefits that can be attained through it; I know that the path of virtue is very narrow, and the road of wickedness is broad and spacious; I know that their endings and conclusions are different, because the expansive, spacious road of wickedness ends in death, and the road of virtue, so narrow and difficult, ends in life, not the life that ends, but life everlasting; and I know, as our great Castilian poet [Garcilaso de la Vega] says, that 

Along this harsh, rock-strewn terrain we climb 

to the peak, high seat of immortality, 

never reached if these rigors are declined"

--Don Quixote

With The Crown finished, we started watching the second season of Ozark, the one about the big-city family forced to launder drug cartel money in redneck country.  It's still pretty smart!

Wednesday night was the History Meetup.  We discussed South Africa.

Saturday was another Crowdread Meetup.  We were doing a crossword puzzle as a team effort--but guess who pulled ahead of the others and finished it first? (I also read them the bit from Orwell's school memoir where he describes being beaten for bed-wetting.) Krystyna shared a rainbow cake with us!

Sunday afternoon my singing group had a session singing Christmas songs.  We were going to sing at an old folk's home but the gig fell through, so we just sang at our usual place.

Afterward was the Classic Book Club, where we discussed the second half of Don Quixote. (I did finish the book in time, on the way there!) We decided to move the time to Thursday nights.

Snow

"Look, my friends, there are four kinds of lineage and, listen carefully, all the lineages in the world can be reduced to these:  some had humble beginnings, and extended and expanded until they reached the heights of greatness; others had noble beginnings, and preserved them, and still preserve and maintain them just as they were; still others may have had noble beginnings but, like pyramids, they tapered to a point, having diminished and annihilated their origins until they ended in nothingness, as the tip of the pyramid is nothing compared to its base or bottom; finally, there are others, and these are the majority, that did not have a good beginning or a reasonable middle, and therefore in the end they have no name, like the lineages of ordinary plebeians"--Don Quixote

"No shock lasts longer than 48 hours.  There's too much appetite for the next shock"--The Crown

The snow arrived yesterday.  My singing group's rehearsal was cancelled, but my memoir group had been cancelled beforehand so it wasn't affected.

Well, we may not have a bedbug problem after all.  But we gave one room a steam-cleaning Saturday to be on the safe side.

I've finished the South Africa history.  Now I have to finish Don Quixote before the book club meets on Sunday, but I like a challenge!

Finished the third season of The Crown.  It must be painful viewing for the real-life Royals! (I have a feeling that they took considerable dramatic licence...)

Lately I've been watching the Cinematic Excrement channel on Youtube.  As the name suggests, Sean "Smeghead" Moore is discussing movies he doesn't like.  But it's better than he sounds:  he goes into detail about each film, even mentioning parts that he does like!

I've started taking dinner up to my room because I don't like having to listen to the TV while I'm eating.