If you want to learn how to pronounce the name of the Icelandic volcano that has been paralyzing air travel in, to and from Europe for the past few days, take a look at the short funny paper Iceland Volcano Spews Consonants and Vowels in The New York Times. I believe it's a good investment as it seems probable that the Eyjafjallajokull will continue to create trouble for months to come...
In the meantime my daughters are stranded in Paris, unable to join me for their spring holidays, and instead of spending a few days in the Hamptons, as I had planned, I stayed, lonely, in the small town where I live, with my books as sole companions, and a gloomy weather...
Coincidentally the last issue of The New Republic features a good paper by Emily Wilson (Stoicism and Us) reviewing the new biography Marcus Aurelius: A Life (Frank McLynn, Da Capo Press, 684p). The book does not seem to be worth reading. It is "pasted together by a non-specialist freelance writer," "McLynn is no philosopher, and his account of the supposed contractions within Stoicism is unreliable and muddled." But Wilson's paper is good, despite her mentioning, dismissively, "tabloid-ish modern theories, including the idea - which has been suggested on the basis of the endearments expressed in their correspondence - that Marcus and his tutor Fronto might have been lovers." Amy Richlin, who published in 2007 a new translation of the letters of Marcus and Fronto (Marcus Aurelius in Love), is not a tabloid-ish journalist...
I am eager to put my hands on two books just published in France.
Jean-Jacques Lefrère has delivered the project he alluded to in the introduction of his masterly edition of Rimbaud's correspondance in 2007. He has now put together a thick volume of correspondance surrounding Rimbaud, between the poet's death in 1891 and 1900 (Sur Arthur Rimbaud : Correspondance posthume (1891-1900), Fayard, 1213p). The cover illustration is a newly discovered photography of Rimbaud (read Arthur Rimbaud revient, en photo in Le Monde to get more details on the discovery). It is the only known picture of Rimbaud as an adult, in addition to the fuzzy photo of an emaciated sick man, taken just prior to his death.
Cécile Guilbert, a French critic I respect, recommended during a radio show I was listening to on France Culture, a literary portrait of Tony Duvert by French novelist Gilles Sebhan, (Tony Duvert - l'enfant silencieux, Denoël, 2010, p). Duvert's story is sordid, yet fascinating. A very gifted precocious author, he won the Prix Medicis in 1973, and was a recognized literary figure in the 70s, published by the prestigious Editions de Minuit, despite the pedophiliac content of his books. I remember the shock when I discovered Journal d'un innocent in 1976. In the 80s he published only two books, and thereafter retired to a recluse life in a small village of the Loir-et-Cher where he died in 2008. His body was discovered several weeks after his death...
2010.04.18