Nostalgia

In 2007 - 2008, I had a livejournal (yes, yes, a hangover from my teenage years... when, apparently, I decided that capital letters were démodé). And I wrote about my time in Rouen. I was about to leave when I wrote this, and I don't think my heart has been as full since. Maybe it's time to start plotting my escape...


I only have 3 weeks left here. I want to fill them to the brim with everything i love about being here. I am so lucky in so many ways and I cannot imagine my life or myself without this experience. Yes, I'm like a broken record on this topic, but it's just made an unimaginable difference to my life to have been able to come here and, well, live. I can't believe I have to leave. And as Sarah said at her birthday meal tonight, I can't believe that we haven't even known each other for 9 months yet and we're already all so special to each other.

I love speaking at least 3 languages a day. I love chattering on and not even realise I'm speaking french. I love being a regular in my beautiful tea shop and getting cheek kisses on entry and that they know exactly what i'm going to have. I love looking down into Rouen from the top of the valley. I love the breathless exhilaration of having left my old life behind, temporarily at least. I love having friends from england, scotland, ireland (northern and republic), the usa, canada, finland, germany, france, austria, spain, belgium, greece. i love fresh bread and stinky cheese. i love going to the market on a sunday and knowing exactly where best to get each different product. I love making jokes in foreign languages. I love being the pianist for a foreign choir. I love mocking the Normandy accent. I love the confidence I've found here.

If I have another year in my life as intense and eye-opening as this one in my life I shall consider myself blessed- though I guess life is as intense as one chooses to make it, and intensity of experience is what I'm always going to be going for now. Not that I haven't had shitty times, misery, pain, blahblahblah or that it hasn't been difficult to keep going and not just wish for London and an easy life- but it's those times which have made the good times all the better.

9 months ago I started randomly grinning as I walked around my new -chez moi-. I still have that smile plastered all over my face.

The Cellist of Sarajevo

The Book Diary

 All the way back in December, a good friend very kindly gave me a beautiful, red leather book. She thought I could use it to write lovely things. Sadly, I am not a writer, but being more of a critic, I have been keeping track of the books I read.

I am ashamed to admit that once, I got 100 pages through a book before realising I'd taken out of the library before. I can be a mindless consumer of books, so I have started the book diary to make myself have a think about what I'm reading.

I'll be posting my red book thoughts here.

Lucy Rose - Middle of the Bed

Yum.

More language geekery

I'm making another blog, this time one for my students. The idea will be to interview people who speak different languages and put them up as motivators for the students - some will be in foreign languages, some will be in English, and the kids can use them as texts for homework and classwork. Authentic sources and all!


If you come across the blog and would like to be involved, please do leave me a comment here and I'll get back to you. It would be great to have a diverse range of participants.

Thanks!

Owlette

Voyage au bout de la langue...

So, back for part II of my languages journey posts. It's an epic journey of heartbreak, self-discovery and joy. It made me who I am.

It's a journey I started aged 7, back in primary school when I signed up to French class, the only problem being that I was the only one. So it didn't go ahead. And I didn't learn any French.

...Until I received a Dorling Kindersley French set for birthday. I learned a few words. I was kinda interested, but not as interested as I was in reading my DK Children's encyclopedia from cover to cover, and feeling very naughty reading the 'reproduction' pages, and learning my dinosaur books by heart. (Apatasaurus: 'imagine you are up a tree. A head the size of a giraffe's pokes through the leaves...'). I was a cool child.

I continued to not learn any French for several more years.

French struggled to get a hold. All I knew of French back then was that Mum had been on a French exchange to Paris when she was at school, and obviously this made it the coolest thing ever. My budding linguistness had to wait to reach its full expression until later, at secondary school, I was on the receiving end of that glorious thing known as French class with a certain Mr Wild, who had the epic-est, French-est goatee beard I have ever seen. He caused much outrage/hilarity with his habit of pointing at people with his middle finger, seemingly telling small children to 'f-off' every time he said 'Et toooi?'. He was so epic, we even wrote the incredible 18-verse hit 'Mr Wild is weird... since he shaved off his beard' on the subject. (I continued to be a cool child.) Punishment for non-participation in French-learning songs was being sent to junior choir. I probably continued to learn very little French.

My students are constantly surprised that I learned French just like they are - starting in year 7 and continuing to climb that ladder for the next 15 years. They keep asking if I'm French, as though it's impossible that anyone from the next borough over might have any desire/ability to speak another language. I sometimes agree. But learn I did. And that, mes enfants, is a story for next time...

Dreaming spires...

Also, a post with the world's most inspiring libraries.

Looks like they forgot one, though - check out Newnham College, Cambridge, for my second home/libraryiwantinmyhouseoneday.

Holy Moly

I feel a bankruptcy-inducing round-the-world trip coming on...

Click the picture for the full post from Flavourwire

Qu'est-ce qu'il y a dans le panier?

While doing my usual Sunday morning thing, checking facebook to make sure that nothing important had happened while I was asleep (is the answer *ever* yes?), I saw that someone had posted an article on the BBC showing that Mitt Romney has been lambasted for being a speaker of French.

I sighed.

While it could just be another item on the ever-growing pile of anti-American sentiments you often get, I filed it under things that make absolutely no sense.

As a linguist (and a creator of linguists-to-be, hopefully), it seems counter intuitive that a skill which takes hard work, practice, and a heft of brain-power to achieve could be labelled as a negative; in this case, it's a show of 'namby-pamby European liberalism'. Or being a little bit too Canadian, perhaps. For while I've been on the receiving end of more than your fair share of apathy, this was the first time I've seen language skills openly sneered at. I was, it's fair to say, shocked.

As a linguist, I know what a foreign language can do for a person, how it can change and influence not only the course of their life, but how they see and feel everything around them. As I fight the tide of parents who declare that there's no point studying my subject, as their children will never go abroad anyway, I've had to question my beliefs about 'the point of learning a language'. I've come out believing that it's an essential skill, if not for every young person, then for a majority of them. As an introduction to a series about my own language journey, I will serve up my top-10 robust defences for language learning in schools and beyond:

1. The oh-so-obvious: if you travel abroad, a little language goes a long way.

A little research, a smile, lots of pointing, and a merci, a danke, an obrigado or a prozse will ease your passage no matter where you are.

2. Foreign language learning is a gateway drug

So, you're never going to France? Wish you learned Spanish? Don't be put off. Persevering with French will give you a solid grounding in grammar and vocabulary for the romance languages and will make that mountain of self-taught Spanish so much easier to climb. I spent a weekend in Spain and with lots of guesswork was able to navigate hotels and restaurants with considerable success, despite never having had a Spanish lesson (though I fell prey to some rogue peanuts, so not 100% successful...).

3. Metalinguistic knowledge

That solid grounding in grammar and vocabulary? Not just useful for German. It'll tell you lots about English too, how we use words, how our language came to be the way it is. And your essays will score higher with that new fancy-pants vocabulary too.

4. Transferable skills

Language skills are not in a box on their own in the dusty recesses of your brain. They interlink with so many others; pattern-spotting, logic and other goodies which intersect with maths, music and science, as well as communication, memory, creativity, self-discipline, confidence, and performance which overlap with the transferable social skills employers are so keen on.

5. The ability to see differently.

Interaction with non-English speakers gives a new perspective; you see with what Kristeva calls the eyes of the outsider. It's a valuable perspective to have sometimes. Linguistic research shows that language, to a certain extent, shapes thought.If you think of those languages with words for only 5 colours, or no numbers beyond 4, or no future or past tense, you see how language can be be a prison of thought. Double the size of your imagination by adding a new path for your thoughts to take. Just don't limit yourself to one way of being.

6. Travel doesn't only necessitate language skills, language skills necessitate travel. I would never have spent 2 years living abroad and running all over Europe to visit my language-buddies without the excuse of my language studies. It was awesome.

7. You don't just look like a more interesting person, you are a more interesting person. Arrogant, yes, but true, also yes. That story about that party you talked yourself into? Accidentally saying the worst swear-word ever to an 8-year-old? Exhibitions, bars, restaurants, landscapes that no one you know has seen? Books they've never read? Music they've never bothered to listen to? [Insert language here] opened that door. Whether it's your month in Senegal, your year abroad in Madrid, or the journeys to your family in Turkey, you can access something few English speakers can. It's a privilege.

8. It's not all about irregular verbs, it's about film, cinema, books, music, dance and art.

The hard work on those verb tables and vocab lists buys you access to so much cool stuff. Tea at the musée d'Orsay? Don't mind if I do. View of the snow-capped Sierra Nevada in December? Yes please. Moonlight in the Sahara? Been there, done it. Without languages? I would never even have heard of 'em.

9. Employability.

I've had 3 jobs since graduating with a degree in German and French. Condition of all 3 was fluent French. These skills pay for me to live.

10. It's fun.

Oh, the carefree days of ice-skating in Rouen, the disastrously cheap alcohol, the daytrips to one of the cultural centres of Europe, the spontaneous trips to Morocco, gallivanting in Germany, roadtripping around France, the friends for life, the... everything. In 3 languages, I have no words to describe the awesome that languages have given me. It's been a gift. Though, the second internal monologue that chatters away in French is occasionally a burden...

Music to calm savage beasts

Clair de Lune by Harold Squire

MFL playlist

MFL playlist

Yes, yes, I did make an MFL playlist.

However, it does need adding to.

Chopchop, off you go.

Marcus Foster

Yay for yummy, exciting new music.Yay, for a warm, bluesy voice with a heavy dose of melancholy. I like melancholy.Just heard Marcus Foster on radio 1 and it's a little bit epic.Marcus Foster - Shadows Of The City by Stayloose

Shadowcatchers

Today, Tall Man and I went to the V+A.
It was rather wonderful, with strange and beautiful images made in strange and inspiring ways.

While I don't have the chemicals necessary for the Chemigrams by Pierre Cordier, I have taken inspiration from Adam Fuss and Garry Fabian Miller, and have created my own cameraless photographs.

Frankenstein

I followed nature into her lair, and stripped her of her secrets! I brought torrents of light to a darkening world! Is that wrong?

I spent Valentine's in the presence of a ghoulish Creature and his genius maker. Oh yes.

It is hard to put into words how excited I'd been since December, when I got my tickets for the Nick Dear adaptation of Mary Shelley's novel - especially as for the preview performances, the castlist hadn't yet been announced. Would Benedict Cumberbatch play the god-like scientist? Or his Creature? Would Jonny Lee Miller be hounded by torch-wielding peasants, or would he become be followed to the ends of the earth by his own creation?

So, some of my expectations were proved wrong. There were no torch-wielding peasants (in the traditional sense), no 'MWAHAHAHAHA' as lightning raged outside a wind-lashed castle. I think Tall Man was rather disappointed. I, however, was delighted.

I got to spend 2 hours watching Jonny Lee Miller as the Creature transform before my eyes from an ignorant child-man (a very, very naked one at that) to an eloquent but hideous man-child, begging for the answers to his existential questions from Benedict Cumberbatch, his creator-father.

Yes, the all-singing, all-transforming stage was a couple of notches over the top, and yes, elements of the soundtrack were jarring rather than complementary. But the swagger was glorious, and the face-offs between Miller and Cumberbatch were touching, at times tender. Dr Frankenstein wildly grasping for control over a creature he hadn't known he could create, contrasted with the Creature, naively believing that his creator could save him, was terrifying without any need for gore, blood, cackling or bolts through necks.

There was no lumbering fiend, rather something infinitely more interesting: a sentient human-not-quite-human Creature howling into the void with no guarantee of an answer.

Many reasons to go see and enjoy (if you can!): the gothic-fantasy aesthetic with a healthy dose of horror (and an interesting nod to steampunk), the mostly fabulous set design showing off the post-enlightenment obsession with electricity, two fabulous actors locked in a terrifying battle of wills, and having every one of your hysteria-inducing philosophical question writ large before your eyes. Nick Dear's play explores what it means to be human, and how badly we can fail at it.

Soooo much sexier than chocolate and flowers.

See also: If you can't get tickets to the NT, Frankenstein will be screened live with both castings at Picturehouse Cinemas, book here.
Find out more about The Beauty and Terror of Science (Amazon)
Meet Frankenstein's Monster's mates: Man-Made Creatures (National Theatre)
Meet the team: Playwright Q+A

Tehillim

So, last night I scored a v cheap ticket to see the London Sinfonietta at the Southbank Centre. I love cheap tickets for things, and I was very proud to admit that this is the first time I've bought a ticket to a purely classical gig. I did lots of music at school, and though I'm mostly a fan of non-classical music, I've recently challenged myself to learn more about classical stuff, given that I've been playing it since I was 5 and remain terminally ignorant.

First on the bill was Steve Reich's Tehillim - a piece for a small ensemble, lots of percussion and 4 female vocalists. Sung in Hebrew - Tehillim is from the Hebrew word for Psalms - this is the first of Reich's pieces I've heard with vocalists. Though he's one of the biggies of the 20th Century, Reich is really listenable. His signature is hypnotic, interweaving lines which draw you in, and subtly morph and weave around until the listener is utterly lost.

Having listened to some of his other pieces on spotify, live was a totally different experience - the physicality of the 4 percussionists, watching the singers pass seemingly unconnected notes back and forth to build a tight harmony, the almost mechanical unison of the strings.

So while it's almost impossible to pinpoint an individual highlight of the piece, the sheer experience of being lost, that way that the music carries off one part of your mind whilst the rest wanders off... I may be going back for Reich's Drumming in a few weeks.

See also: Chichester Psalms - crazy Hebrew joy by Bernstein

15 step - hypnotica from Radiohead

Number one

So... I'm actually doing it. Opening a blog. No, I'm not a student journalist, but I do miss getting my thoughts out in a logical order and yes, I'll admit it, having people read them.

When I'm not working 9 to 5 (I defy you not to hum the tune now), I'm reading, listening, exploring, munching, and drinking in and around London.

I sometimes think about the things I have seen and done.

I shall endeavour to write things down about the things I have seen and done.

If you feel moved to comment, please do - I love to find out new things!