Honestly, Reg, you've not been listening to your mother again, have you? For Merlin's sake.
Ten minutes she had me on the Floo this afternoon. All about how your Kreacher has muffed the cookery since spending so much time with you these last weeks.
If you've any sense you'll simply ignore her ranting. It's been so much worse lately.
I wonder if it's because the anniversary of Uncle Orion's death is coming up? But that's not until June, isn't it? Well, I'm baffled, then.
At any rate pay no mind - she's just angling to borrow Fifi for a time.
I tried reading, but all I've got is Beckett and Calderón de la Barca. Well, and that dreadful biography of Rowena Ravenclaw that came out last summer. I don't know what I was thinking when I packed those.
Bid us sigh on from day to day, And wish and wish the soul away, Till youth and genial years are flown, And all the life of life is gone.
I've no idea what you were thinking, either. It's like that period you went through in your OWL year, loads of Sisters of Sorcery albums and dark pronouncements.
It was boring then, Reg, and it's boring now. I forbid you to read another poem.
You were coming round for tea tomorrow, weren't you? Why not come tonight instead? I can easily provide you with a rather cheeky bordeaux and an even more ribald volume of Tristram Bundy.
It says, 'Humanity's greatest sin is being born.' Or something close to that.
I'm afraid Pedro Calderón de la Barca--the one who said it--was an incurable optimist or else he was simply taking the piss.
I'm not sure whether to recommend him to you. Do you like plays? There was a revival of his El Mágico Prodigioso (in translation, of course, and called something like The Supreme Sorceror) at the New Drury Lane. The Sandovals and Harrods put up the dosh to get it done, and I've heard they've got another of his on the list for next season. El Médico de Su Honra, I think. Or maybe it's the other one about dishonour; I can never keep those straight.
I like seeing plays. Mum takes me to Christmas pantos every year, and I've been to see Romeo and Juliet and Midsummer Night's Dream too. I'm always a little disappointed when I read plays, though, because they're never quite as good or interesting just sitting there on the page. I've tried reading Shakespeare, but it's always hard to get his meaning just by looking at the words, and the jokes aren't nearly as funny. I cried when I saw Romeo and Juliet, but reading it wasn't quite the same.
Well, yes. And I suppose you have to enjoy languages to bother with the original texts of writers like Calderón de la Barca, but he was a poet and a philosopher, so reading is sometimes the only way to really catch and chew on what he's saying.
Still and all, he's wrong to go dismissing all our culpability for the things we do. It's all well and good to dismiss life as a dream (that's another title of his, by the way), but it won't do to say everything just illusory because then you imply that we're not, in the end, authors of our own deeds. Or that what we do hasn't any important substance. D'you see? I've been working myself into quite a state over this dusty old Spaniard, and I really should quit him, except that he's so bloody beautiful sometimes.
Éstas que fueron pompa y alegría despertando al albor de la mañana, a la tarde serán lástima vana durmiendo en brazos de la noche fría.
That's from a sonnet of his that likens roses to people in their short-lived beauty. It's really poignant. Also true. To put it into English, he talks of the splendour and vigour of the flowers when, in the morning, they awake, but he points out that evening inevitably comes and with it the realisation that all vitality is vain and pathetic, a prelude to our long sleep in night's cold arms.
Oh, so that's what you meant. That if you've sinned just by being born, the rest all doesn't really count.
I still don't think that paints a rosy picture. Neither does the poem for that matter. Haha. Although you're right, it does sound very beautiful. And sad. I wish I could read foreign languages. I think I'll ask mum to hire a French tutor while we're in Scotland over summer hols.
If you do bad deeds in your dreams or think about doing them, does that count just as much as really doing it? I don't think so, because there is a choice, I think, between wanting to do something bad and actually deciding to do it. And because we have choices, what we do really does mean something.
If that's the case, then I don't think splendour and vigour is vain and pathetic at all.
Sometimes. They are the kind where I'm running around in a maze and can't find the exit, or I'm running late for something, only I can't remember what I'm late for. I do lots of running when I dream lately.
I haven't had really bad dreams since last term, though. The screaming kind, I mean.
Is there any relation between the times when you suffer the dreams and the days when your stomach troubles you? Or does it seem wholly random when the dreams come?
I don't believe our dreams can be held against us, by the way, unless we really are wandering about, committing mayhem whilst we sleep. That would seem to fall into a grey area where, at the very least, it's incumbent upon the dreamer to seek help. Of course, we don't get to take credit for anything we do in dreams, either.
Well, I've been noticing more of both lately, so maybe. I can't imagine hurt stomachs are good for sleeping.
I feel fine now, though. That potion Madame Pomphrey gave me really did help things.
I used to sleepwalk last term, you know, but I mostly just went down to the common room and sat by the fire, which isn't very exciting. No mayhem for me.
It's only optimistic if you look slantwise. I was being a bit wry about it. I'm sure the poet thought he was being all moody and bleak about existence. And, of course, he was influenced by his religion which taught Original Sin, so he's merely stating that no one is born free of the taint of sin.
Still, I think he misses the whole point of our being responsible for the havoc we wreak in the world. If our worst crime is being born, that's not even something we chose, is it? What then of all the things we choose to do. All the dreadful decisions that ought to be charged to our accounts?
Is it a sin just to exist? I don't think so. Certainly not for all of us. Not from the beginning. I suppose you might ask whether some of us sin by continuing.
Begging your pardon. My cousin will have my hide for this if I'm not careful. I'm supposed to be changing for dinner, not foisting morose poetry on you.
I think you're right -- he does rather skip out on any responsibility for anything by saying things like "it's all a dream," and "we're born in sin anyroad, so why bother."
It doesn't sound like he enjoyed existence very much.
You'd better get dressed. I'm glad you're going out and having dinner, and Aunt Narcissa mustn't be kept waiting.
Well, he was Spanish. Even Isobel Sandoval, much as I adore her, can become crashingly dull when she goes on at length about the homeland. To hear her tell it, Spain hasn't much left the 16th century and I suspect they would rather forget that little incident with their armada, altogether!
But you'll be happy to know that Reg's chat with you did not keep him. Though we did not go 'out' at all, dear: I still insist on proper etiquette when we have company, and therefore we dress for supper. I don't believe Lucius has held you to this standard in town (nor strictly speaking need he do so).
By the way, Lucius did speak with me and with your mother about the holidays and we agree it would be a good use of your time to take lessons (imagine not knowing your languages, poor thing!) with Draco's tutors over the summer. We'd already had him in French, but we'd like to start him in German as well, Austria being one of the countries we suspect will soon follow in Our Lord's footsteps. I've given your mother the names of the wizards so I hope she'll be making arrangements soon.
(And Lucius has mentioned spending a week or so with him in town. I'm sure you'll tire of each other before a full week, but if he wishes to shepherd a teen-aged girl, it's his own lookout. I did remind him that you'll want to see some theatre and ought not to be shut up in the library the whole of your visit!)
I'm glad he wasn't held up on my account. Mum always has me look my best when we eat out, but I think dressing for dinner at home is quite nice too. It does make it seem more special.
The tutor and the week in London both sound lovely, Aunt Narcissa.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
branchandroot
no subject
Date: 2010-04-10 04:06 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-04-10 04:07 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-04-10 04:14 am (UTC)Ten minutes she had me on the Floo this afternoon. All about how your Kreacher has muffed the cookery since spending so much time with you these last weeks.
If you've any sense you'll simply ignore her ranting. It's been so much worse lately.
I wonder if it's because the anniversary of Uncle Orion's death is coming up? But that's not until June, isn't it? Well, I'm baffled, then.
At any rate pay no mind - she's just angling to borrow Fifi for a time.
no subject
Date: 2010-04-10 04:16 am (UTC)I tried reading, but all I've got is Beckett and Calderón de la Barca. Well, and that dreadful biography of Rowena Ravenclaw that came out last summer. I don't know what I was thinking when I packed those.
no subject
Date: 2010-04-10 04:22 am (UTC)It was boring then, Reg, and it's boring now. I forbid you to read another poem.
You were coming round for tea tomorrow, weren't you? Why not come tonight instead? I can easily provide you with a rather cheeky bordeaux and an even more ribald volume of Tristram Bundy.
no subject
Date: 2010-04-10 04:22 am (UTC)Definitely ignore her.
You'll ignore me, too, if you know what's good for you.
I promise to be in better form tomorrow.
Just having a bad evening is all.
no subject
Date: 2010-04-10 04:23 am (UTC)Well.
no subject
Date: 2010-04-10 04:25 am (UTC)I'd not ignore me, if you know what's good for you.
no subject
Date: 2010-04-10 04:26 am (UTC)I could be packed up and in the Floo in twenty minutes. Make it twenty-five.
no subject
Date: 2010-04-10 04:33 am (UTC)(Mention our ad and receive a bonus serving of cherry trifle.)
no subject
Date: 2010-04-10 08:07 pm (UTC)It looks like Spanish, or Italian, but I can't tell what it means.
no subject
Date: 2010-04-10 08:39 pm (UTC)I'm afraid Pedro Calderón de la Barca--the one who said it--was an incurable optimist or else he was simply taking the piss.
I'm not sure whether to recommend him to you. Do you like plays? There was a revival of his El Mágico Prodigioso (in translation, of course, and called something like The Supreme Sorceror) at the New Drury Lane. The Sandovals and Harrods put up the dosh to get it done, and I've heard they've got another of his on the list for next season. El Médico de Su Honra, I think. Or maybe it's the other one about dishonour; I can never keep those straight.
no subject
Date: 2010-04-10 08:52 pm (UTC)But plays aren't really meant to be read anyways.
no subject
Date: 2010-04-10 09:48 pm (UTC)Still and all, he's wrong to go dismissing all our culpability for the things we do. It's all well and good to dismiss life as a dream (that's another title of his, by the way), but it won't do to say everything just illusory because then you imply that we're not, in the end, authors of our own deeds. Or that what we do hasn't any important substance. D'you see? I've been working myself into quite a state over this dusty old Spaniard, and I really should quit him, except that he's so bloody beautiful sometimes.That's from a sonnet of his that likens roses to people in their short-lived beauty. It's really poignant. Also true. To put it into English, he talks of the splendour and vigour of the flowers when, in the morning, they awake, but he points out that evening inevitably comes and with it the realisation that all vitality is vain and pathetic, a prelude to our long sleep in night's cold arms.
That's good, isn't it? Night's cold arms?
Terrible, but true.
no subject
Date: 2010-04-10 10:00 pm (UTC)I still don't think that paints a rosy picture. Neither does the poem for that matter. Haha. Although you're right, it does sound very beautiful. And sad. I wish I could read foreign languages. I think I'll ask mum to hire a French tutor while we're in Scotland over summer hols.
If you do bad deeds in your dreams or think about doing them, does that count just as much as really doing it? I don't think so, because there is a choice, I think, between wanting to do something bad and actually deciding to do it. And because we have choices, what we do really does mean something.
If that's the case, then I don't think splendour and vigour is vain and pathetic at all.
no subject
Date: 2010-04-11 01:29 am (UTC)You're not having bad dreams again, are you?
Are you?
no subject
Date: 2010-04-11 02:38 am (UTC)I haven't had really bad dreams since last term, though. The screaming kind, I mean.
It's funny, but sometimes, I really miss Marie.no subject
Date: 2010-04-11 05:38 am (UTC)Is there any relation between the times when you suffer the dreams and the days when your stomach troubles you? Or does it seem wholly random when the dreams come?
I don't believe our dreams can be held against us, by the way, unless we really are wandering about, committing mayhem whilst we sleep. That would seem to fall into a grey area where, at the very least, it's incumbent upon the dreamer to seek help. Of course, we don't get to take credit for anything we do in dreams, either.
no subject
Date: 2010-04-11 06:00 am (UTC)I feel fine now, though. That potion Madame Pomphrey gave me really did help things.
I used to sleepwalk last term, you know, but I mostly just went down to the common room and sat by the fire, which isn't very exciting. No mayhem for me.
no subject
Date: 2010-04-11 05:07 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-04-11 05:39 am (UTC)Was there something especially delicious for pudding tonight?
no subject
Date: 2010-04-11 06:07 am (UTC)But between poetry and plays and French tutors, I think I'll have plenty of exciting and interesting things to think on tonight.
no subject
Date: 2010-04-11 06:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-04-11 08:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-04-10 09:39 pm (UTC)Is it a sin just to exist?
no subject
Date: 2010-04-10 09:54 pm (UTC)Still, I think he misses the whole point of our being responsible for the havoc we wreak in the world. If our worst crime is being born, that's not even something we chose, is it? What then of all the things we choose to do. All the dreadful decisions that ought to be charged to our accounts?
Is it a sin just to exist? I don't think so. Certainly not for all of us. Not from the beginning. I suppose you might ask whether some of us sin by continuing.
Begging your pardon. My cousin will have my hide for this if I'm not careful. I'm supposed to be changing for dinner, not foisting morose poetry on you.
no subject
Date: 2010-04-10 10:03 pm (UTC)It doesn't sound like he enjoyed existence very much.
You'd better get dressed. I'm glad you're going out and having dinner, and Aunt Narcissa mustn't be kept waiting.
no subject
Date: 2010-04-11 04:28 am (UTC)But you'll be happy to know that Reg's chat with you did not keep him. Though we did not go 'out' at all, dear: I still insist on proper etiquette when we have company, and therefore we dress for supper. I don't believe Lucius has held you to this standard in town (nor strictly speaking need he do so).
By the way, Lucius did speak with me and with your mother about the holidays and we agree it would be a good use of your time to take lessons (imagine not knowing your languages, poor thing!) with Draco's tutors over the summer. We'd already had him in French, but we'd like to start him in German as well, Austria being one of the countries we suspect will soon follow in Our Lord's footsteps. I've given your mother the names of the wizards so I hope she'll be making arrangements soon.
(And Lucius has mentioned spending a week or so with him in town. I'm sure you'll tire of each other before a full week, but if he wishes to shepherd a teen-aged girl, it's his own lookout. I did remind him that you'll want to see some theatre and ought not to be shut up in the library the whole of your visit!)
no subject
Date: 2010-04-11 05:06 am (UTC)The tutor and the week in London both sound lovely, Aunt Narcissa.
Thank you!
Summer hols is sounding better and better.