Quick notes--
Apr. 14th, 2016 07:42 pmI am currently having the problem with Duolingo French, you see, that it is trying to teach me the word for wallet, and the word it thinks means wallet is "le portefeuille". Which is all fine and good, as far as it goes, except that the French word I know meaning wallet is, er, "das Portemonnaie". Because German, you see, or at least my flavour of German, went through a phase (as did much of the rest of Europe) that can summarised, somewhat crudely, as You Know What's Really Sexy? French. French Is Really Sexy.
I have no idea whether Duolingo thinks le portemonnaie is an acceptable translation, and I suppose I will find out next time I find myself learning how to talk about clothes in French. (I am dubious. Duolingo persists in not believing in potatoes, you see, even if it has condescended to believe in priests.)
The University of Oxford Botanic Garden, meanwhile, have an attempt at Engaging Their Younger Visitors, as best I can tell, that consists of sticking a bunch of laminated Shakespeare quotes near plants mentioned in said quotes, which series is entitled Bill's Blooms.
I was delighted to realise that one of these was taken from Much Ado About Nothing (II.i):
... except, to my slight consternation, it was attached to an example of Citrus madurensis, the Calamondin orange.
I perambulated the remainder of the Conservatory, which contained a goodly set of Citrus. (A fact of which I had not previously been aware: nobody knows what the fuck lemons are. Citrus medica x Citrus aurantifolia, suggest Oxford, with which Wikipedia does not agree.) Not represented, alas, was Citrus aurantium, the bitter - or Seville - orange. Well, fair enough, thinks I; if they have no Seville, it is reasonable that the quotation not be attached to a Seville.
... they do so have a bloody Seville -- it's just over in the Palm House.
I have sent them an e-mail thanking them profusely for my lovely afternoon, and inquiring as to whether they just... don't think that joke's as funny as I do, then.
(It's okay! I was actually more polite than that, I promise.)
"Excuse me," I said to the woman in the charity shop, bent to peer at the bookcase, "could I trouble you to reach me down a book from the top shelf...? Oh, thank you so much -- second from the left, Americanah..."
"Oh, good find," she said, "I'm trying desperately to quickly find something to read, that looks like the only good thing on that shelf. But--" and here she brandished some Orhan Pamuk at me.
... and having thus Bonded over Literature, we went our separate ways, which at least in my case involved being briefly deeply embarrassed about What It Is I Have Become, as a result of which I knocked a shoe onto my head; it thonked pleasingly as it bounced, somewhat sadly, to the floor.
I have no idea whether Duolingo thinks le portemonnaie is an acceptable translation, and I suppose I will find out next time I find myself learning how to talk about clothes in French. (I am dubious. Duolingo persists in not believing in potatoes, you see, even if it has condescended to believe in priests.)
The University of Oxford Botanic Garden, meanwhile, have an attempt at Engaging Their Younger Visitors, as best I can tell, that consists of sticking a bunch of laminated Shakespeare quotes near plants mentioned in said quotes, which series is entitled Bill's Blooms.
I was delighted to realise that one of these was taken from Much Ado About Nothing (II.i):
The count is neither sad nor sick, nor merry nor well; but civil count, civil as an Orange, and something of that jealous complexion.
... except, to my slight consternation, it was attached to an example of Citrus madurensis, the Calamondin orange.
I perambulated the remainder of the Conservatory, which contained a goodly set of Citrus. (A fact of which I had not previously been aware: nobody knows what the fuck lemons are. Citrus medica x Citrus aurantifolia, suggest Oxford, with which Wikipedia does not agree.) Not represented, alas, was Citrus aurantium, the bitter - or Seville - orange. Well, fair enough, thinks I; if they have no Seville, it is reasonable that the quotation not be attached to a Seville.
... they do so have a bloody Seville -- it's just over in the Palm House.
I have sent them an e-mail thanking them profusely for my lovely afternoon, and inquiring as to whether they just... don't think that joke's as funny as I do, then.
(It's okay! I was actually more polite than that, I promise.)
"Excuse me," I said to the woman in the charity shop, bent to peer at the bookcase, "could I trouble you to reach me down a book from the top shelf...? Oh, thank you so much -- second from the left, Americanah..."
"Oh, good find," she said, "I'm trying desperately to quickly find something to read, that looks like the only good thing on that shelf. But--" and here she brandished some Orhan Pamuk at me.
... and having thus Bonded over Literature, we went our separate ways, which at least in my case involved being briefly deeply embarrassed about What It Is I Have Become, as a result of which I knocked a shoe onto my head; it thonked pleasingly as it bounced, somewhat sadly, to the floor.
(no subject)
Date: 2016-04-14 07:15 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2016-04-14 07:28 pm (UTC)I'm alarmed by the idea of someone having a complexion like either of those citruses, btw; did they really have fake tan in Shakespeare's day? (I once had a colleague who was a very promising trainee, but I had to keep mentally kicking myself for thinking of her as "the little orange one.")
(no subject)
Date: 2016-04-14 08:17 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2016-04-14 08:35 pm (UTC)I suspect the intended analogy is one of texture rather than of colour -- Seville oranges are much more pitted and rough-skinned than sweet oranges. (THOUGH ALSO I am endlessly delighted by the bit where "orange" as a colour post-dates the fruit! Albeit not by enough to actually be relevant to the issue of Much Ado, which post-dates orange-the-colour-attested-in-writing by about sixty years.)
(no subject)
Date: 2016-04-15 09:12 am (UTC)(We had Measure for Measure as an A Level set text. It left scars.)
Carrots used to be purple and the Dutch horticulturalists selectively bred them to be orange as a compliment to the ruling family, for that matter. Say it with vegetables...
(no subject)
Date: 2016-04-15 09:31 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2016-04-14 08:42 pm (UTC)I am also finding the differences in terms of which vocabulary's considered important in which languages very interesting, in a casual sort of a way!
(no subject)
Date: 2016-04-14 07:39 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2016-04-14 08:41 pm (UTC)I am very fond of Much Ado. Very Fond Indeed. I was properly delighted that it was there at all. (I... do not think most small children would be, however, hence -- in part -- my perplexity at the project.)
(no subject)
Date: 2016-04-14 07:39 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2016-04-14 08:04 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2016-04-14 08:37 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2016-04-14 08:36 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2016-04-14 08:18 pm (UTC)All I know about lemons is they don't grow here, and I wish they did, because they're delicious and I would eat more if they weren't so expensive.
(no subject)
Date: 2016-04-14 09:45 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2016-04-15 07:29 am (UTC)I didn't get that joke (civil/Seville) until now, and I am GREATLY DELIGHTED. Much Ado is one of my favourites too, which is a star danced when the cat sitting on the arm of my couch right now was born. (Her mother meowed.)[*]
[* Metaphorically. I mean, I adopted her when she was one and a half, so I was not present for the birth. And according to the microchip registry, her previous name was Toby, which is an entirely different Shakespeare knock-knock joke.]
(no subject)
Date: 2016-04-15 06:31 pm (UTC)(uncappsed because I am trying to shout at people less, even when it's emphatic joy--) I am delighted to have shared the joke with you! Isn't it a good joke. :D
(no subject)
Date: 2016-04-17 12:57 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2016-04-17 01:08 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2016-04-15 08:05 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2016-04-15 08:07 am (UTC)