in a Browning essay (dramatic monologue, what else), I was for a moment overwhelmed by love. For Browning's poetry. I chose to discuss (and again, we shall relax our usual standards about these words) 'Porphyria's Lover' and 'My Last Duchess', but I sneaked looks at 'Soliloquy of a Spanish Cloister' and kept splitting my face into silly grins.
Whew! We'll have our platter burnished,
Laid with care on our own shelf!
With a fire-new spoon we're furnished,
And a goblet for ourself,
Rinsed like something sacrificial
Ere 'tis fit to touch our chaps--
Marked with L. for our initial!
(He-he! There his lily snaps!)
This Spanish cloistermonk bloke... gr-r-r, so CUTE!
--
Saw a very funny Hungarian artfilm today. I wish I had been allowed to sign up for a Film Studies course. I never get to see films, ever, and shut up, HBO/Star Movies doesn't count. It's unfair, utterly unfair. I can't even buy them, no home video players. And considering my financial situation, very unlikely I ever will.
Yes, that's why I resent it when people around me talk about films.
--
My but JU is an interesting place to be. Not that I didn't know before - having lived on the campus for years - but. Chemistry lab fire yesterday, stupid accident, too. The people who work in the office - I suppose almost everyone is used to things like these, one shakes one's head or shrugs, says, that's life, this is the system, quit whining and suck it up. Except I can't. And I know a few people who can't, either.
The chocolate bomb(s?) in the department loo was less than hilarious. I would like to keep my eardrums, thank you very much.
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2 comments:
Ohh, that poem is one of my favourites, the Spanish Cloisterererer one.
It is slurpable! Oh for a scrofulous French novel.
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