Le dimanche. Ce n'est pas mon jour préféré.
Sunday afternoons. Hate them. With a passion. I'm with the Doctor: Sundays are boring. No excuse not to get my work done, for one thing.
And joy of joys, voila today's Sunday afternoon activity: reading a French tragedy. Woop de doop. Je la deteste. It's Andromaque by Racine, and it's full of classical references that I don't understand. Not to mention that I have to look up every other word in the dictionary, and rely rather heavily on an online translation I found.
I know it's a French classic, and I'm sure it's a wonderful read for those who are into French tragedies, but frankly I cannot appreciate a play which I do not understand. It may contain fabulous nuances of language, but they are entirely lost on the girl who has forgotten a lot of her A Level French, and funnily enough never learnt the kind of vocabulary used in neoclassical tragedy.
Moan over. Happy Sunday
And joy of joys, voila today's Sunday afternoon activity: reading a French tragedy. Woop de doop. Je la deteste. It's Andromaque by Racine, and it's full of classical references that I don't understand. Not to mention that I have to look up every other word in the dictionary, and rely rather heavily on an online translation I found.
I know it's a French classic, and I'm sure it's a wonderful read for those who are into French tragedies, but frankly I cannot appreciate a play which I do not understand. It may contain fabulous nuances of language, but they are entirely lost on the girl who has forgotten a lot of her A Level French, and funnily enough never learnt the kind of vocabulary used in neoclassical tragedy.
Moan over. Happy Sunday