Worth noting: all contributors donated their royalties to support the Céline Hegron clinic in a poor neighborhood of Varanasi.
Livre: "Les Arpenteurs du Monde" de Daniel Kehlmann (littérature allemande)
by Hery
This discussion is in French, the community’s main language.
...j'ai lu tous les pliciers de Robert Van Gulick...
Idem ! Mon preferer c'est "L'enigme du clou chinois", parce que le juge Ti, qui a rellement exister, se trouve confronter au sentiment tragique de son devoir vis a vis d'une femme qui le sauve d'une grave destitution ( le juge fait erreur, il est condamne...etonnant non?). As tu lu "La vie sexuelle dans la Chine ancienne"? Un livre d'une grande erudition - ah comme les positions sont joliments nommes !-, et c'est le premier livre de Van Gulik que j'ai lu ! ( Ceux qui ont lu "Le sourire du Tao" de Lauwrance Durell seront en pays de connaissance en ce qui concerne la 1er partie, et reciproquement pour ceux qui ont lu Van Gulick. A l'origne, je voulais te demander si tu te souvenais comment avait ete percu, en Allemagne, le livre de Peter Handke : "Un voyage hivernal vers le Danube, la Save, la Morava et la Drina". Mais comme j'ai lu comment tu traites Handke...euh...c'est bon...pas de problemes ! (si je t'ai bien lu !)
Idem ! Mon preferer c'est "L'enigme du clou chinois", parce que le juge Ti, qui a rellement exister, se trouve confronter au sentiment tragique de son devoir vis a vis d'une femme qui le sauve d'une grave destitution ( le juge fait erreur, il est condamne...etonnant non?). As tu lu "La vie sexuelle dans la Chine ancienne"? Un livre d'une grande erudition - ah comme les positions sont joliments nommes !-, et c'est le premier livre de Van Gulik que j'ai lu ! ( Ceux qui ont lu "Le sourire du Tao" de Lauwrance Durell seront en pays de connaissance en ce qui concerne la 1er partie, et reciproquement pour ceux qui ont lu Van Gulick. A l'origne, je voulais te demander si tu te souvenais comment avait ete percu, en Allemagne, le livre de Peter Handke : "Un voyage hivernal vers le Danube, la Save, la Morava et la Drina". Mais comme j'ai lu comment tu traites Handke...euh...c'est bon...pas de problemes ! (si je t'ai bien lu !)
Voyager c'est découvrir que tout le monde a tort.
Aldous Huxley
Bonjour Geob,
il y a déjà bien longtemps que j’ai lu van Gulik. Donc, un peu difficile à me souvenir aux détails. Ce que je sais encore : j’ai rencontré n’importe quel policier du juge Di par hasard, je l’ai lu, il m’a plu, j’ai lu un deuxième, au plus tard à ce moment, j'étais fasciné de van Gulik, et j’ai lu tous les autres successivement (ce sont 15 environ). L’autre livre dont tu parles, je ne l’ai pas lu mais j’en ai entendu parler (bon, si les Chinois sont autant d’amants rusés que des meurtriers, il vaut peut-être la peine de le lire pour s’en inspirer) ... Des affaires de meurtre astucieuses, du suspense captivant, insérées dans une mer des pensées chinoises (Konfuzius, taoisme), ce sont les policiers de van Gulik. Bonne lecture ...
Je ne connais pas le livre de Handke dont tu parles et dont le sous-titre est « Justice pour la Serbie » (ce qu’évoque déjà son intention). Ce livre est donc un pamphlet pro-serbe avec lequel Handke s’est marginalisé sur le plan politique et sur le feuilleton en Allemagne. Et ça est resté ainsi jusqu’à aujourd’hui ... On l’a convié à s'éloigner de cette position. En vain. Entre-temps, on lui a retiré même un ou deux prix de littérature renommés. Il y avait des débats brusques dans les feuilletons (p.ex. entre lui et des collègues qu’il a traités de « suiveurs lâches ») ... Et maintenant, il a encore l’occasion de brusquer l’establishment politique et feuilletoniste en Allemagne et ailleurs en présentant ses devoirs à Karadjic à La Hague ... Moi, j’aime toujours le jeune Handke (Die Angst des Tormanns ..., Wunschloses Unglück, Der kurze Brief ...) mais l’âgé, non merci !
hgb
il y a déjà bien longtemps que j’ai lu van Gulik. Donc, un peu difficile à me souvenir aux détails. Ce que je sais encore : j’ai rencontré n’importe quel policier du juge Di par hasard, je l’ai lu, il m’a plu, j’ai lu un deuxième, au plus tard à ce moment, j'étais fasciné de van Gulik, et j’ai lu tous les autres successivement (ce sont 15 environ). L’autre livre dont tu parles, je ne l’ai pas lu mais j’en ai entendu parler (bon, si les Chinois sont autant d’amants rusés que des meurtriers, il vaut peut-être la peine de le lire pour s’en inspirer) ... Des affaires de meurtre astucieuses, du suspense captivant, insérées dans une mer des pensées chinoises (Konfuzius, taoisme), ce sont les policiers de van Gulik. Bonne lecture ...
Je ne connais pas le livre de Handke dont tu parles et dont le sous-titre est « Justice pour la Serbie » (ce qu’évoque déjà son intention). Ce livre est donc un pamphlet pro-serbe avec lequel Handke s’est marginalisé sur le plan politique et sur le feuilleton en Allemagne. Et ça est resté ainsi jusqu’à aujourd’hui ... On l’a convié à s'éloigner de cette position. En vain. Entre-temps, on lui a retiré même un ou deux prix de littérature renommés. Il y avait des débats brusques dans les feuilletons (p.ex. entre lui et des collègues qu’il a traités de « suiveurs lâches ») ... Et maintenant, il a encore l’occasion de brusquer l’establishment politique et feuilletoniste en Allemagne et ailleurs en présentant ses devoirs à Karadjic à La Hague ... Moi, j’aime toujours le jeune Handke (Die Angst des Tormanns ..., Wunschloses Unglück, Der kurze Brief ...) mais l’âgé, non merci !
hgb
Salut Geob,
juger le rôle (1) de Handke pendant la guerre dans les Balkans est très difficile ; on peut constater chez lui qqc de positif et de négatif, je pense ...
D’abord, Handke est un écrivain de renommée mondiale, idéal du poète solitaire (dans un château, abri contre la vie réelle, près de Paris), un homme qui soigne son narcissisme pendant 40 ans, un intellectuel qui déteste depuis toujours les journalistes, un individu polémique et cynique, un chauvi infatué de soi et nudiste d’âme qui nous laisse regarder depuis 40 ans dans son intérieur, un petit fantaste qui se plaît dans son rôle du guerrier seul, qui prêche dans le désert, un homme âgé qui se croit important, qui rend, de façon médiatique, les prix littéraires dont celui de Büchner (le plus important en Allemagne) et se détourne de l’église (le tout pour étayer sa fermeté) ... Des gestes symboliques qui ne valent rien ; il vit toujours à son château et picole de la meilleure champagne française (peut-être rêve-t-il dans son délire d’une Grande-Serbie mais ce n’est pas transmis) !
Son pamphlet « Justice pour la Serbie » est une profession de foi en faveur du Serbisme (2). Ce n’est pas grave d’abord, pourquoi ... ?! « Pro-serbe » ne veut dire ni « pro-Milosevic » ni « pro-nationalisme serbe de Milosevic ». Pas encore … Mais pourquoi dire que les bombardements aériens de l’OTAN sur des villes serbes auraient été plus graves et plus terribles que les offensives aériennes (et sur terre) des nazis contre des villes polonaises, russes, anglaises etc., pourquoi dire qu’un holocaust plus grave aurait eu lieu en Serbie et contre la population civile serbe que le holocaust des nazis (3). Toute guerre laisse des traces sur la population civile (je le dis sans cynisme), c’est un fait. En Afrique, en ex-Yougoslavie, partout ... C’est une grande injustice ! Des crimes qui ne sont souvent pas expiés. Et le rêveur Handke, qu’est-ce qu’il a fait ?! Il défalque un crime contre un autre, prétend que le droit de gens ne vaut rien tant que les Serbes n’ont pas d’instance qui les aide à obtenir justice. Autrement dit, il dénie la légitimation de La Hague. Et de tels actes impulsifs polémiques sont, à la fin, pro-Milosevic ... A mon avis, n’importe qui se range pour la défense d’un m...r comme Milosevic, a perdu le droit d’accuser ...
Quant aux mérites (du livre) de Handke, c.à.d. la campagne qu’il a provoquée, eux, ce sont de nous avoir dévoilé l’état pitoyable de l’élite politique ainsi que celui du milieu intellectuel en Allemagne (et peut-être aussi en France ; mais, Geob, c’est à toi de le juger. Tu es Français pas moi) : les Verts pacifistes se sont transformés en guerriers enthousiastes, le milieu intellectuel est devenu dévoué et édenté et occupé avec lui-même (les plus âgés avec leurs implications nazies, les soixantaines avec leurs péchés ’68, RAF ou RDA, et les plus jeunes n’ont pas d’avis du tout) ; tous les super-intellectuels comme Grrrr!aSS, Lenz, Heym, Enzensberger, même Habermas etc. etc. ont préconisé la guerre ... Et la « puissance des médias » ?! En 1968, des étudiants devenus plus tard écrivains, avocats, politiciens (Schröder, Fischer ...), occupaient le konzern de médias Axel Springer (la Bild) à Berlin pour protester contre sa « manipulation totale ». Aujourd’hui, les mêmes font preuve d’indulgence avec eux-mêmes, et se délectent de la nostalgie. C’est tout ... Mais évidemment pas Handke, qui suit son propre chemin, ne pas se laissant impressionné par l’opinion régnante et ses rituels (sans vouloir le surestimer) ... Et cela m’impose un peu de respect, malgré tout !
hgb
(1) qui ne valait rien en Serbie à l’époque. Là, on ne l’a pris au sérieux (sauf Milosevic et son régime qui l’ont embrassé avec enthousiasme) (2) en allm. Serbentum (3) révisé un peu plus tard
juger le rôle (1) de Handke pendant la guerre dans les Balkans est très difficile ; on peut constater chez lui qqc de positif et de négatif, je pense ...
D’abord, Handke est un écrivain de renommée mondiale, idéal du poète solitaire (dans un château, abri contre la vie réelle, près de Paris), un homme qui soigne son narcissisme pendant 40 ans, un intellectuel qui déteste depuis toujours les journalistes, un individu polémique et cynique, un chauvi infatué de soi et nudiste d’âme qui nous laisse regarder depuis 40 ans dans son intérieur, un petit fantaste qui se plaît dans son rôle du guerrier seul, qui prêche dans le désert, un homme âgé qui se croit important, qui rend, de façon médiatique, les prix littéraires dont celui de Büchner (le plus important en Allemagne) et se détourne de l’église (le tout pour étayer sa fermeté) ... Des gestes symboliques qui ne valent rien ; il vit toujours à son château et picole de la meilleure champagne française (peut-être rêve-t-il dans son délire d’une Grande-Serbie mais ce n’est pas transmis) !
Son pamphlet « Justice pour la Serbie » est une profession de foi en faveur du Serbisme (2). Ce n’est pas grave d’abord, pourquoi ... ?! « Pro-serbe » ne veut dire ni « pro-Milosevic » ni « pro-nationalisme serbe de Milosevic ». Pas encore … Mais pourquoi dire que les bombardements aériens de l’OTAN sur des villes serbes auraient été plus graves et plus terribles que les offensives aériennes (et sur terre) des nazis contre des villes polonaises, russes, anglaises etc., pourquoi dire qu’un holocaust plus grave aurait eu lieu en Serbie et contre la population civile serbe que le holocaust des nazis (3). Toute guerre laisse des traces sur la population civile (je le dis sans cynisme), c’est un fait. En Afrique, en ex-Yougoslavie, partout ... C’est une grande injustice ! Des crimes qui ne sont souvent pas expiés. Et le rêveur Handke, qu’est-ce qu’il a fait ?! Il défalque un crime contre un autre, prétend que le droit de gens ne vaut rien tant que les Serbes n’ont pas d’instance qui les aide à obtenir justice. Autrement dit, il dénie la légitimation de La Hague. Et de tels actes impulsifs polémiques sont, à la fin, pro-Milosevic ... A mon avis, n’importe qui se range pour la défense d’un m...r comme Milosevic, a perdu le droit d’accuser ...
Quant aux mérites (du livre) de Handke, c.à.d. la campagne qu’il a provoquée, eux, ce sont de nous avoir dévoilé l’état pitoyable de l’élite politique ainsi que celui du milieu intellectuel en Allemagne (et peut-être aussi en France ; mais, Geob, c’est à toi de le juger. Tu es Français pas moi) : les Verts pacifistes se sont transformés en guerriers enthousiastes, le milieu intellectuel est devenu dévoué et édenté et occupé avec lui-même (les plus âgés avec leurs implications nazies, les soixantaines avec leurs péchés ’68, RAF ou RDA, et les plus jeunes n’ont pas d’avis du tout) ; tous les super-intellectuels comme Grrrr!aSS, Lenz, Heym, Enzensberger, même Habermas etc. etc. ont préconisé la guerre ... Et la « puissance des médias » ?! En 1968, des étudiants devenus plus tard écrivains, avocats, politiciens (Schröder, Fischer ...), occupaient le konzern de médias Axel Springer (la Bild) à Berlin pour protester contre sa « manipulation totale ». Aujourd’hui, les mêmes font preuve d’indulgence avec eux-mêmes, et se délectent de la nostalgie. C’est tout ... Mais évidemment pas Handke, qui suit son propre chemin, ne pas se laissant impressionné par l’opinion régnante et ses rituels (sans vouloir le surestimer) ... Et cela m’impose un peu de respect, malgré tout !
hgb
(1) qui ne valait rien en Serbie à l’époque. Là, on ne l’a pris au sérieux (sauf Milosevic et son régime qui l’ont embrassé avec enthousiasme) (2) en allm. Serbentum (3) révisé un peu plus tard
...les bombardements par l'otan sur des villes serbes...
Effectivement, s'il a dit ca, c'est vraiment stupide ! Le bombardement de Dresde a fait plus ou moins fait autant de victimes que sur Hiroshima ! Quant aux intellectuels, en France ce fut pareil, et malheur a ceux qui n'etaient pas d'accord avec eux. L'acharner de la guerre a tout va, ce fut B.H.Levy ! C'est a cette epoque la que le coruscant J.F.Khan a invente le concept de "pensee unique" ! (ceux qui n'y adheraient pas se voyaient ostraciser) Et bien sur, les camps de prisonniers des serbes, dans lesquels se trouvaient les bosniaques musulmans, etaient compare a Aucshwitz ou Dachau ! Rien a ajouter a ton dernier paragraphe !
Effectivement, s'il a dit ca, c'est vraiment stupide ! Le bombardement de Dresde a fait plus ou moins fait autant de victimes que sur Hiroshima ! Quant aux intellectuels, en France ce fut pareil, et malheur a ceux qui n'etaient pas d'accord avec eux. L'acharner de la guerre a tout va, ce fut B.H.Levy ! C'est a cette epoque la que le coruscant J.F.Khan a invente le concept de "pensee unique" ! (ceux qui n'y adheraient pas se voyaient ostraciser) Et bien sur, les camps de prisonniers des serbes, dans lesquels se trouvaient les bosniaques musulmans, etaient compare a Aucshwitz ou Dachau ! Rien a ajouter a ton dernier paragraphe !
Voyager c'est découvrir que tout le monde a tort.
Aldous Huxley
Bonsoir,
dans mon précédent message, je voulais mentionner aussi les bombardements de Dresde parce que cela me souvient un peu à l'argumentation de Handke face à la Serbie et Milosevic ...
Par l'édition du livre "Der Brand" de l'historien Jörg Friedrich (entre-temps traduit en anglais ; son titre est "The Fire") en 2004, un débat sur les bombardements de Dresde a éclaté, un débat surtout entre les Allemands et les Britanniques ...
Friedrich fait quoi ?! Après la fin du délai de honte, ce Friedrich se permet inpudemment de minimiser la honte des Allemands en disant que la population allemande aurait elle aussi souffert dans la Guerre Mondiale II ... Il essaye d'assimiler les crimes de l'Allemagne hitlérienne à la guerre de bombes des alliés ; à peine croyable ! En fin de compte, il essaye de relativiser toute la responsabilité de la guerre des Allemands. Friedrich argumente selon le principe de " Toi aussi " ... Ce livre sert à un latent déplacement culturel en Allemagne, sortant d'une mortification de soi démonstrative pour les péchés de l'histoire (brune), et arrivant à un rôle de la victime pleurnicheur ...
Bien sûr, les Allemands aussi ont souffert de la guerre (ma mère m'en a raconté beaucoup ; sans parler que les nazis ont volé l'adolescence de mon père dont le père était un fort adversaire de cette horde brune ; à l'âge de 17, il était en Belgique) ... Malgré toutes ces souffrances - entre autre celles de la population de Dresde -, il ne faut pas oublier que ce furent les Allemands qui ont commencé les bombardements, à partir de la Norvège, via la Grèce jusquà l'Angleterre, et c'était l'Allemagne hitlérienne qui propagait la "Guerre totale". A ce point, on peut retourner à Handke. Le même schéma : il pleure les souffrances des serbes, mais il ne parle pas de Srebrenica, et il oublie à mentionner que c'était Milosevic ayant commencé la guerre dans les Balkans ...
Désolé, je ne connais pas J.F. Khan. Quant à B.H. Levy, lui serait un sujet autre. Il me surprend parfois de manière positive, parfois négative ... Dans la Weltwoche (journal hebdomadaire en Suisse, un des meilleurs que je connais, superbe), j'ai lu un article intéressant de lui sur "Castro et les idols gauchistes". Bien ...
Bon week-end !
hgb
dans mon précédent message, je voulais mentionner aussi les bombardements de Dresde parce que cela me souvient un peu à l'argumentation de Handke face à la Serbie et Milosevic ...
Par l'édition du livre "Der Brand" de l'historien Jörg Friedrich (entre-temps traduit en anglais ; son titre est "The Fire") en 2004, un débat sur les bombardements de Dresde a éclaté, un débat surtout entre les Allemands et les Britanniques ...
Friedrich fait quoi ?! Après la fin du délai de honte, ce Friedrich se permet inpudemment de minimiser la honte des Allemands en disant que la population allemande aurait elle aussi souffert dans la Guerre Mondiale II ... Il essaye d'assimiler les crimes de l'Allemagne hitlérienne à la guerre de bombes des alliés ; à peine croyable ! En fin de compte, il essaye de relativiser toute la responsabilité de la guerre des Allemands. Friedrich argumente selon le principe de " Toi aussi " ... Ce livre sert à un latent déplacement culturel en Allemagne, sortant d'une mortification de soi démonstrative pour les péchés de l'histoire (brune), et arrivant à un rôle de la victime pleurnicheur ...
Bien sûr, les Allemands aussi ont souffert de la guerre (ma mère m'en a raconté beaucoup ; sans parler que les nazis ont volé l'adolescence de mon père dont le père était un fort adversaire de cette horde brune ; à l'âge de 17, il était en Belgique) ... Malgré toutes ces souffrances - entre autre celles de la population de Dresde -, il ne faut pas oublier que ce furent les Allemands qui ont commencé les bombardements, à partir de la Norvège, via la Grèce jusquà l'Angleterre, et c'était l'Allemagne hitlérienne qui propagait la "Guerre totale". A ce point, on peut retourner à Handke. Le même schéma : il pleure les souffrances des serbes, mais il ne parle pas de Srebrenica, et il oublie à mentionner que c'était Milosevic ayant commencé la guerre dans les Balkans ...
Désolé, je ne connais pas J.F. Khan. Quant à B.H. Levy, lui serait un sujet autre. Il me surprend parfois de manière positive, parfois négative ... Dans la Weltwoche (journal hebdomadaire en Suisse, un des meilleurs que je connais, superbe), j'ai lu un article intéressant de lui sur "Castro et les idols gauchistes". Bien ...
Bon week-end !
hgb
Présentation du best-seller « Les Arpenteurs du monde » (titre original : « Die Vermessung der Welt », Mesurer le monde) de Daniel Kehlmann, voix jeune (33 ans) et prometteuse de la littérature allemande :
Le roman raconte les biographies de deux savants allemands du XIXe siècle, le aventurier-géologue-botaniste Alexander von Humboldt et l’astronome et génie des mathématiques, Carl Friedrich Gauß. Deux personnalités qui ...... * les indications de page font référence à l’édition de poche allemande (mars 2008).
Merci pour ce compte rendu de lecture. Je me propose de visiter l'Allemagne de nouveau sous peu. Je vais lire ce livre avec intérêt.
Le roman raconte les biographies de deux savants allemands du XIXe siècle, le aventurier-géologue-botaniste Alexander von Humboldt et l’astronome et génie des mathématiques, Carl Friedrich Gauß. Deux personnalités qui ...... * les indications de page font référence à l’édition de poche allemande (mars 2008).
Merci pour ce compte rendu de lecture. Je me propose de visiter l'Allemagne de nouveau sous peu. Je vais lire ce livre avec intérêt.
MoniqueM
« Emmenez- moi au bout de la terre
Emmenez-moi au pays des merveilles...»
Bonjour Herbert,
J'avais gardé cette idée lecture en mémoire et j'ai profité d'un passage dans le rayon K de la Feltrinelli pour m'en souvenir.
C'est une excellente suggestion, j'ai souvent souri, parfois ri. Le style est léger, très enlevé et Kehlmann manifeste un beau sens de l'humour, particulièrement perceptible dans le récit des tribulations d'Alexander von Humbolt.
Puisque tu évoques les citations sur le voyage j'ajouterais celles-ci :
"Humbolt dit que lui aussi voulait voyager. Forster acquiesça. C'est un désir que tant de personnes éprouvent, dit-il. Et tous s'en repentent. Pourquoi ? Parce qu'on ne revient jamais."
Ou, à la toute fin du livre, alors qu'Humbolt revient de sa triste expédition en Russie :
"Mais alors qu'Humbolt franchissait la périphérie de Berlin et imaginait Gauss assis à son télescope en train d'observer les corps célestes, dont il savait résumer les orbites en de simples formules, pour la première fois il n'aurait plus été capable de dire qui des deux avait parcouru la moitié du monde et qui était resté chez lui."
Je te fais grâce de la citation sur les linguistes...😉😏
Catherine
J'avais gardé cette idée lecture en mémoire et j'ai profité d'un passage dans le rayon K de la Feltrinelli pour m'en souvenir.
C'est une excellente suggestion, j'ai souvent souri, parfois ri. Le style est léger, très enlevé et Kehlmann manifeste un beau sens de l'humour, particulièrement perceptible dans le récit des tribulations d'Alexander von Humbolt.
Puisque tu évoques les citations sur le voyage j'ajouterais celles-ci :
"Humbolt dit que lui aussi voulait voyager. Forster acquiesça. C'est un désir que tant de personnes éprouvent, dit-il. Et tous s'en repentent. Pourquoi ? Parce qu'on ne revient jamais."
Ou, à la toute fin du livre, alors qu'Humbolt revient de sa triste expédition en Russie :
"Mais alors qu'Humbolt franchissait la périphérie de Berlin et imaginait Gauss assis à son télescope en train d'observer les corps célestes, dont il savait résumer les orbites en de simples formules, pour la première fois il n'aurait plus été capable de dire qui des deux avait parcouru la moitié du monde et qui était resté chez lui."
Je te fais grâce de la citation sur les linguistes...😉😏
Catherine
Bonjour,
oui, j'ai moi aussi ri beaucoup, surtout sur Gauss qui est décrit magnifiquement ... Par endroit, on peut se bidonner. C'est avant tout Gauss qui incarne beaucoup de propriétés typiquement allemandes ... Cela fait rire !
Oui, oui, oui, la citation sur ces pauvres meurt-de-faims, les linguistes, ça te plaît ... C'est Catherine, ça lui ressemble bien ... A tout propos, je vais me venger de manière "transformer l'italien en un dialect germanique" ... !
Bonne journée, hgb
oui, j'ai moi aussi ri beaucoup, surtout sur Gauss qui est décrit magnifiquement ... Par endroit, on peut se bidonner. C'est avant tout Gauss qui incarne beaucoup de propriétés typiquement allemandes ... Cela fait rire !
Oui, oui, oui, la citation sur ces pauvres meurt-de-faims, les linguistes, ça te plaît ... C'est Catherine, ça lui ressemble bien ... A tout propos, je vais me venger de manière "transformer l'italien en un dialect germanique" ... !
Bonne journée, hgb
Je viens de lire ce roman (paru récemment en collection de poche en France), très original, instructif et à l'humour ravageur.
Je le recommande et le prêterai le plus souvent possible comme tous les livres que j'aime.
Le dernier roman allemand qui m'ait autant plu était "Le Parfum".
Madame, bonjour !
Veux-tu m'énerver ... ?!
O.k., j'avoue, ma demande (Peux-tu me dire ...) est mal placée ; au moment où je l'articulais, je n'ai visité encore cette discussion-ci ni ai pu prévoir une visite. Une idée spontanée, est-ce si grave, à savoir terriblement illogique, de l'avoir exprimée dans la discussion "Lexique d'italien" ?! Ça n'a rien à voir avec de l'illogisme. J'étais curieux d'apprendre où se trouvait ce passage dans le livre de Kehlmann, c'est tout (pour ne pas devoir le chercher indéfiniment dans mon exemplaire). Et, Madame, je ne crois pas que la curiosité soit une propriété allemande, au contraire, elle est - on le sait - une propriété typiquement féminine ...
Par ailleurs, dans la discussion "Lexique d'italien", tu m'as conté tes peines quant à la disparition des couleurs sur VF (Che palle sta scomparsa dei colori !), tandis que tu as félicité chaleureusement le nouveau "visage" du VF dans la discussion "Bravo pour la récente ..." : n'aurait-il pas été plus raisonnable, plus concluante si tu étais plus réservée avec tes éloges à l'équipe VF mais avait exprimé là ta plainte sur la disparition des couleurs, et non pas dans la discussion "Lexique d'italien" ... ?!
Dis, est-ce la logique des Italiennes ?! Assez confuse, je trouve ...
A propos "logique" (c.à.d. les principes de la pensée vraie et concluante) et "femme" est une dichotomie, c'est comme ... hmmm, disons ... "éléphant" et "danse classique (ballet)". La logique était toujours une domaine masculine* (Madame, ne me dites pas que je sois misogyne. Pas du tout. J'aime les femmes même si les quelques parmi elles me sont de temps en temps assez suspectes) ...
Bon week-end, hgb
* C'est ainsi pourquoi ?! Je ne sais pas mais j'ai lu que la cervelle de l'homme était plus grande que la féminine. Bon, ça pourrait être une explication ...
Veux-tu m'énerver ... ?!
O.k., j'avoue, ma demande (Peux-tu me dire ...) est mal placée ; au moment où je l'articulais, je n'ai visité encore cette discussion-ci ni ai pu prévoir une visite. Une idée spontanée, est-ce si grave, à savoir terriblement illogique, de l'avoir exprimée dans la discussion "Lexique d'italien" ?! Ça n'a rien à voir avec de l'illogisme. J'étais curieux d'apprendre où se trouvait ce passage dans le livre de Kehlmann, c'est tout (pour ne pas devoir le chercher indéfiniment dans mon exemplaire). Et, Madame, je ne crois pas que la curiosité soit une propriété allemande, au contraire, elle est - on le sait - une propriété typiquement féminine ...
Par ailleurs, dans la discussion "Lexique d'italien", tu m'as conté tes peines quant à la disparition des couleurs sur VF (Che palle sta scomparsa dei colori !), tandis que tu as félicité chaleureusement le nouveau "visage" du VF dans la discussion "Bravo pour la récente ..." : n'aurait-il pas été plus raisonnable, plus concluante si tu étais plus réservée avec tes éloges à l'équipe VF mais avait exprimé là ta plainte sur la disparition des couleurs, et non pas dans la discussion "Lexique d'italien" ... ?!
Dis, est-ce la logique des Italiennes ?! Assez confuse, je trouve ...
A propos "logique" (c.à.d. les principes de la pensée vraie et concluante) et "femme" est une dichotomie, c'est comme ... hmmm, disons ... "éléphant" et "danse classique (ballet)". La logique était toujours une domaine masculine* (Madame, ne me dites pas que je sois misogyne. Pas du tout. J'aime les femmes même si les quelques parmi elles me sont de temps en temps assez suspectes) ...
Bon week-end, hgb
* C'est ainsi pourquoi ?! Je ne sais pas mais j'ai lu que la cervelle de l'homme était plus grande que la féminine. Bon, ça pourrait être une explication ...
Bonjour,
Par ailleurs, dans la discussion "Lexique d'italien", tu m'as conté tes peines quant à la disparition des couleurs sur VF (Che palle sta scomparsa dei colori !), tandis que tu as félicité chaleureusement le nouveau "visage" du VF dans la discussion "Bravo pour la récente ..."
Je peux témoigner que c'est faux.
Michel
Par ailleurs, dans la discussion "Lexique d'italien", tu m'as conté tes peines quant à la disparition des couleurs sur VF (Che palle sta scomparsa dei colori !), tandis que tu as félicité chaleureusement le nouveau "visage" du VF dans la discussion "Bravo pour la récente ..."
Je peux témoigner que c'est faux.
Michel
Tu es tout excusé.
La communication écrite est parfois difficile à interpréter. 🙂
A propos de Kant, que tu as cité dans le titre de tes messages précédent, il écrit (j'ai lu une page cet après-midi puis dormi deux heures pour me remettre, pas sûre que je vois le bout avant quelques années à ce rythme) :
"Or cette dernière* n'intervient que dans la mesure où l'objet nous est donné ; mais cela n'est à son tour, du moins pour nous hommes, possible que parce que l'objet affecte l'esprit sur un certain mode."
Tu crois que dans cette phrase "homme" est à comprendre au sens restreint d'individu de sexe masculin ou plus généralement d'être humain ? (A savoir l'objet affecterait-il différemment l'esprit masculin et l'esprit féminin ?)
Catherine
* il parle de l'intuition comme modalité de connaissance des objets.
La communication écrite est parfois difficile à interpréter. 🙂
A propos de Kant, que tu as cité dans le titre de tes messages précédent, il écrit (j'ai lu une page cet après-midi puis dormi deux heures pour me remettre, pas sûre que je vois le bout avant quelques années à ce rythme) :
"Or cette dernière* n'intervient que dans la mesure où l'objet nous est donné ; mais cela n'est à son tour, du moins pour nous hommes, possible que parce que l'objet affecte l'esprit sur un certain mode."
Tu crois que dans cette phrase "homme" est à comprendre au sens restreint d'individu de sexe masculin ou plus généralement d'être humain ? (A savoir l'objet affecterait-il différemment l'esprit masculin et l'esprit féminin ?)
Catherine
* il parle de l'intuition comme modalité de connaissance des objets.
Bonsoir Catherine,
- -- police 8 :
"Tu crois que dans cette phrase "homme" est à comprendre au sens restreint d'individu de sexe masculin ou plus généralement d'être humain ? (A savoir l'objet affecterait-il différemment l'esprit masculin et l'esprit féminin ?)"
La question me paraît éminemment anachronique. Fausse ingénuité ou militantisme ? 🙂
- -
Continuez, c'est intéressant. 🙂
- -- police 8 :
"Tu crois que dans cette phrase "homme" est à comprendre au sens restreint d'individu de sexe masculin ou plus généralement d'être humain ? (A savoir l'objet affecterait-il différemment l'esprit masculin et l'esprit féminin ?)"
La question me paraît éminemment anachronique. Fausse ingénuité ou militantisme ? 🙂
- -
Continuez, c'est intéressant. 🙂
"Il se peut qu'en allemand il n'y ait pas de confusion possible (qu'a-t-il écrit Mensch ou Mann ?)..."
J'aurais tendance à penser qu'au XVIII° siècle, employer l'un ou l'autre ne relevait pas d'une prise de position particulière : Mensch = Männer. Peut-être écrit-il "Man" ("on"), mais dans ce cas-là aussi, j'ai du mal à penser que la gent féminine y soit considérée.
Je laisse le spécialiste apporter ses explications...
- --
Cela écrit, le livre (Les arpenteurs du monde, hein ! pas Critique de la Raison Pure !) est effectivement un beau moment de lecture.🙂
J'aurais tendance à penser qu'au XVIII° siècle, employer l'un ou l'autre ne relevait pas d'une prise de position particulière : Mensch = Männer. Peut-être écrit-il "Man" ("on"), mais dans ce cas-là aussi, j'ai du mal à penser que la gent féminine y soit considérée.
Je laisse le spécialiste apporter ses explications...
- --
Cela écrit, le livre (Les arpenteurs du monde, hein ! pas Critique de la Raison Pure !) est effectivement un beau moment de lecture.🙂
...
Pour créer du lien entre Les Arpenteurs du monde et la Critique de la raison pure...
Gauss se rend à Königsberg, chez Kant ("un nain enveloppé d'une couverture de laine : lèvres tuméfiées, front proéminent, nez mince et effilé") pour parler de l'espace d'Euclide. "Il avait en effet l'impression que l'espace euclidien n'était pas, comme l'affirmait le professeur dans la Critique de la raison pure, le présupposé de la forme de notre propre intuition et donc le présupposé de n'importe quelle expérience possible, mais plutôt une fiction, un joli rêve". Gauss expose à Kant sa propre perception (à laquelle telle Humbolt je n'ai rien pigé) puis se penche vers le petit homme et attend. "Saucisses. Comment ? Lampe doit acheter des saucisses, dit Kant. Des saucisses et des étoiles (NdT ???? *). Il doit aussi acheter les étoiles. Gauss se leva. Je n'ai pas complètement perdu les bonnes manières, dit Kant. Messieurs !"
Catherine
* Herbert, qu'est-ce que la traductrice a traduit par l'italien "stelle" (Stern ?) ?
Pour créer du lien entre Les Arpenteurs du monde et la Critique de la raison pure...
Gauss se rend à Königsberg, chez Kant ("un nain enveloppé d'une couverture de laine : lèvres tuméfiées, front proéminent, nez mince et effilé") pour parler de l'espace d'Euclide. "Il avait en effet l'impression que l'espace euclidien n'était pas, comme l'affirmait le professeur dans la Critique de la raison pure, le présupposé de la forme de notre propre intuition et donc le présupposé de n'importe quelle expérience possible, mais plutôt une fiction, un joli rêve". Gauss expose à Kant sa propre perception (à laquelle telle Humbolt je n'ai rien pigé) puis se penche vers le petit homme et attend. "Saucisses. Comment ? Lampe doit acheter des saucisses, dit Kant. Des saucisses et des étoiles (NdT ???? *). Il doit aussi acheter les étoiles. Gauss se leva. Je n'ai pas complètement perdu les bonnes manières, dit Kant. Messieurs !"
Catherine
* Herbert, qu'est-ce que la traductrice a traduit par l'italien "stelle" (Stern ?) ?
Re ...
Tu crois que dans cette phrase "homme" est à comprendre au sens restreint d'individu de sexe masculin ou plus généralement d'être humain ? (A savoir l'objet affecterait-il différemment l'esprit masculin et l'esprit féminin ?)
Sans avoir une explication précise, j'ai tendance à dire que Kant parle plutôt, au sens très général, de Menschen que de Männer.
Au fond, tu mentionnes un "problème" que j'ai souvent pour m'expliquer en français. Souvent, je suis pas sûr si l'on me comprend bien : le lecteur, comprend-il "Mann" si je veux dire "Mensch" ou comprend-il "Mensch" si je veux dire "Mann" ...
hgb
Tu crois que dans cette phrase "homme" est à comprendre au sens restreint d'individu de sexe masculin ou plus généralement d'être humain ? (A savoir l'objet affecterait-il différemment l'esprit masculin et l'esprit féminin ?)
Sans avoir une explication précise, j'ai tendance à dire que Kant parle plutôt, au sens très général, de Menschen que de Männer.
Au fond, tu mentionnes un "problème" que j'ai souvent pour m'expliquer en français. Souvent, je suis pas sûr si l'on me comprend bien : le lecteur, comprend-il "Mann" si je veux dire "Mensch" ou comprend-il "Mensch" si je veux dire "Mann" ...
hgb
On se "rencontre" assez souvent : Céline, Hillerman, Süßkind, Kehlmann, ...
En effet, sans oublier la musique africaine, en particulier malienne.
En effet, sans oublier la musique africaine, en particulier malienne.
Catherine, bonjour !
("un nain enveloppé d'une couverture de laine : lèvres tuméfiées, front proéminent, nez mince et effilé")
... einen in Wolldecken gewickelten, reglosen Zwerg sehen konnte : wulstige Lippen, vorspringende Stirn, eine scharfe, dünne Nase. (p.95)
Il avait en effet l'impression que l'espace euclidien n'était pas, comme l'affirmait le professeur dans la Critique de la raison pure, le présupposé de la forme de notre propre intuition et donc le présupposé de n'importe quelle expérience possible, mais plutôt une fiction, un joli rêve".
Ihm scheine nämlich, daß der euklidische Raum eben nicht, wie es die Kritik der reinen Vernunft behaupte, die Form unserer Anschauung selbst und deshalb aller möglichen Erfahrung vorgeschrieben sei, sondern vielmehr eine Fiktion, ein schöner Traum. (p.95)
"Saucisses. Comment ? Lampe doit acheter des saucisses, dit Kant. Des saucisses et des étoiles (NdT ???? *). Il doit aussi acheter les étoiles. Gauss se leva. Je n'ai pas complètement perdu les bonnes manières, dit Kant. Messieurs !"
Wurst, sagte Kant Bitte? Der Lampe soll Wurst kaufen, sagte Kant. Wurst und Sterne. Soll er auch kaufen. Gauß stand auf. Ganz hat mich die Zivilität nicht verlassen, sagte Kant. Meine Herren! (p.96/97)
"Humbolt dit que lui aussi voulait voyager. Forster acquiesça. C'est un désir que tant de personnes éprouvent, dit-il. Et tous s'en repentent. Pourquoi ? Parce qu'on ne revient jamais."
Er wolle auch reisen, sagte Humboldt. Forster nickte. Mancher wolle das. Und jeder bereue es später. Warum? Weil man nie zurückkommen könne. (p.28/29)
Herbert, qu'est-ce que la traductrice a traduit par l'italien "stelle" (Stern ?) ?
Catherine, dans la version originale, le chapitre s’appelle Die Sterne (Les étoiles, Le stelle), p.143.
(j'ai lu une page cet après-midi [..], pas sûre que je vois le bout avant quelques années à ce rythme)
Avant quelques années ?! Chère Catherine, ça dépend aussi du nombre de pages qui te reste à lire. Si tu lis une! page par an, et il te reste encore 300 pages (à une espérance de vie de 85 ans), donc, il ne faut pas être un prophète pour te prédire que tu ne verras certainement pas le bout. Dans ce cas, il te faut urgemment un changement de rythme, c.à.d. l'immense augmentation de la mesure ... ou, par métaphore, passer de la valse lente au fox-trot vite ...
Bonne journée à toi, hgb
(si tu aimes avoir une réponse très précise quant à Kant, tu me dis le chapitre, même sous-chapitre pour me faciliter la recherche. Merci !)
("un nain enveloppé d'une couverture de laine : lèvres tuméfiées, front proéminent, nez mince et effilé")
... einen in Wolldecken gewickelten, reglosen Zwerg sehen konnte : wulstige Lippen, vorspringende Stirn, eine scharfe, dünne Nase. (p.95)
Il avait en effet l'impression que l'espace euclidien n'était pas, comme l'affirmait le professeur dans la Critique de la raison pure, le présupposé de la forme de notre propre intuition et donc le présupposé de n'importe quelle expérience possible, mais plutôt une fiction, un joli rêve".
Ihm scheine nämlich, daß der euklidische Raum eben nicht, wie es die Kritik der reinen Vernunft behaupte, die Form unserer Anschauung selbst und deshalb aller möglichen Erfahrung vorgeschrieben sei, sondern vielmehr eine Fiktion, ein schöner Traum. (p.95)
"Saucisses. Comment ? Lampe doit acheter des saucisses, dit Kant. Des saucisses et des étoiles (NdT ???? *). Il doit aussi acheter les étoiles. Gauss se leva. Je n'ai pas complètement perdu les bonnes manières, dit Kant. Messieurs !"
Wurst, sagte Kant Bitte? Der Lampe soll Wurst kaufen, sagte Kant. Wurst und Sterne. Soll er auch kaufen. Gauß stand auf. Ganz hat mich die Zivilität nicht verlassen, sagte Kant. Meine Herren! (p.96/97)
"Humbolt dit que lui aussi voulait voyager. Forster acquiesça. C'est un désir que tant de personnes éprouvent, dit-il. Et tous s'en repentent. Pourquoi ? Parce qu'on ne revient jamais."
Er wolle auch reisen, sagte Humboldt. Forster nickte. Mancher wolle das. Und jeder bereue es später. Warum? Weil man nie zurückkommen könne. (p.28/29)
Herbert, qu'est-ce que la traductrice a traduit par l'italien "stelle" (Stern ?) ?
Catherine, dans la version originale, le chapitre s’appelle Die Sterne (Les étoiles, Le stelle), p.143.
(j'ai lu une page cet après-midi [..], pas sûre que je vois le bout avant quelques années à ce rythme)
Avant quelques années ?! Chère Catherine, ça dépend aussi du nombre de pages qui te reste à lire. Si tu lis une! page par an, et il te reste encore 300 pages (à une espérance de vie de 85 ans), donc, il ne faut pas être un prophète pour te prédire que tu ne verras certainement pas le bout. Dans ce cas, il te faut urgemment un changement de rythme, c.à.d. l'immense augmentation de la mesure ... ou, par métaphore, passer de la valse lente au fox-trot vite ...
Bonne journée à toi, hgb
(si tu aimes avoir une réponse très précise quant à Kant, tu me dis le chapitre, même sous-chapitre pour me faciliter la recherche. Merci !)
Bonjour Herbert,
Wurst und Sterne
Je vais peut-etre poser une question stupide... Mais je n'ai pas compris : c'est le nom d'un mets "Sterne", en allemand ?
Avant quelques années ?! Chère Catherine, ça dépend aussi du nombre de pages qui te reste à lire. Si tu lis une! page par an, et il te reste encore 300 pages (à une espérance de vie de 85 ans), donc, il ne faut pas être un prophète pour te prédire que tu ne verras certainement pas le bout. Dans ce cas, il te faut urgemment un changement de rythme, c.à.d. l'immense augmentation de la mesure ... ou, par métaphore, passer de la valse lente au fox-trot vite ...
Mais... si je lis Kant (je parlais de son ouvrage, pas de celui de Kelhmann, et il fait bien plus de 300 pages) sur un rythme de fox-trot rapide , je ne comprends absolument rien...😕😏 (pas du tout adapté à ce type de texte, m'enfin, Herbert)
(si tu aimes avoir une réponse très précise quant à Kant, tu me dis le chapitre, même sous-chapitre pour me faciliter la recherche. Merci !)
C'est la première page de l'esthétique transcendantale...
Bon ! On va peut-etre arrêter là ? Autant "Les Arpenteurs du monde" est susceptible d'être un plaisir de lecture pour nombre de personnes, autant Kant ne me semble pas à même de passionner grand monde. 🙂
Catherine
Wurst und Sterne
Je vais peut-etre poser une question stupide... Mais je n'ai pas compris : c'est le nom d'un mets "Sterne", en allemand ?
Avant quelques années ?! Chère Catherine, ça dépend aussi du nombre de pages qui te reste à lire. Si tu lis une! page par an, et il te reste encore 300 pages (à une espérance de vie de 85 ans), donc, il ne faut pas être un prophète pour te prédire que tu ne verras certainement pas le bout. Dans ce cas, il te faut urgemment un changement de rythme, c.à.d. l'immense augmentation de la mesure ... ou, par métaphore, passer de la valse lente au fox-trot vite ...
Mais... si je lis Kant (je parlais de son ouvrage, pas de celui de Kelhmann, et il fait bien plus de 300 pages) sur un rythme de fox-trot rapide , je ne comprends absolument rien...😕😏 (pas du tout adapté à ce type de texte, m'enfin, Herbert)
(si tu aimes avoir une réponse très précise quant à Kant, tu me dis le chapitre, même sous-chapitre pour me faciliter la recherche. Merci !)
C'est la première page de l'esthétique transcendantale...
Bon ! On va peut-etre arrêter là ? Autant "Les Arpenteurs du monde" est susceptible d'être un plaisir de lecture pour nombre de personnes, autant Kant ne me semble pas à même de passionner grand monde. 🙂
Catherine
Catherine, bonjour !
"Or cette dernière* n'intervient que dans la mesure où l'objet nous est donné ; mais cela n'est à son tour, du moins pour nous hommes, possible que parce que l'objet affecte l'esprit sur un certain mode."
Diese (= die Anschauung) findet aber nur statt, so fern uns der Gegenstand gegeben wird; dieses aber ist wiederum, uns Menschen wenigstens, nur dadurch möglich, daß er das Gemüt auf gewisse Weise affiziere.
Je vais peut-etre poser une question stupide... Mais je n'ai pas compris : c'est le nom d'un mets "Sterne", en allemand ?
Non.
hgb
"Or cette dernière* n'intervient que dans la mesure où l'objet nous est donné ; mais cela n'est à son tour, du moins pour nous hommes, possible que parce que l'objet affecte l'esprit sur un certain mode."
Diese (= die Anschauung) findet aber nur statt, so fern uns der Gegenstand gegeben wird; dieses aber ist wiederum, uns Menschen wenigstens, nur dadurch möglich, daß er das Gemüt auf gewisse Weise affiziere.
Je vais peut-etre poser une question stupide... Mais je n'ai pas compris : c'est le nom d'un mets "Sterne", en allemand ?
Non.
hgb
Bah, alors je n'ai rien compris à ce passage. Soit c'est une façon de montrer que le Sage de Königsberg était un peu rimbambito, soit c'est moi qui suit ganz rincoglionita.
Ma chère Italienne,
il me semble un peu que l'"ironie allemande", ou plutôt, l'ironie des quelques Allemands (tels que l'écrivain Kehlmann ou un certain Monsieur B.) n'est pas ton fort ...
Je ne sais pas si le Sage de Königsberg est rendu rimbambito avec l'âge (croissant) mais je sais que cette Catherine-là n'est certainement pas rincoglionita ... Esagera perdutamente !
Pour apaiser tes sens et pour t'adoucir le week-end, je te fais cadeau de quelques Zimtsterne, biscuits étoilés à la cannelle (de Noël, très populaires en Allemagne). Bon appétit !
Bon week-end à toi, hgb
(j'ai essayé de comprendre la page initiale de la Transzendentale Ästhetik. En vain. Pououhhh ... Si tu vois le bout de cette oeuvre, je te décore et t'honnore pour toujours. Bon courage !)
Ma chère Italienne,
il me semble un peu que l'"ironie allemande", ou plutôt, l'ironie des quelques Allemands (tels que l'écrivain Kehlmann ou un certain Monsieur B.) n'est pas ton fort ...
Je ne sais pas si le Sage de Königsberg est rendu rimbambito avec l'âge (croissant) mais je sais que cette Catherine-là n'est certainement pas rincoglionita ... Esagera perdutamente !
Pour apaiser tes sens et pour t'adoucir le week-end, je te fais cadeau de quelques Zimtsterne, biscuits étoilés à la cannelle (de Noël, très populaires en Allemagne). Bon appétit !
Bon week-end à toi, hgb
(j'ai essayé de comprendre la page initiale de la Transzendentale Ästhetik. En vain. Pououhhh ... Si tu vois le bout de cette oeuvre, je te décore et t'honnore pour toujours. Bon courage !)
Caro Svevo,
Donc ça se mange bien les étoiles, enfin les Sterne, parce que ni en français, ni en italien, ce mot ne correspond à quoi que ce soit de comestible (il y a bien le stelline en italien, mais je vois mal un habitant de la Könisberg de la fin du XVIII° siècle manger ce genre de pâtes). Je ne comprenais pas pourquoi, ni surtout comment, Kant pouvait demander à Lampe d'acquérir des astres.
Bon week-end également,
Catherine
PS : Ah, tu me rassures. Je me demandais si c'était moi qui étais complètement stupide. Je crois que c'est une question d'entraînement... Tu ne t'es jamais acharné à lire, à comprendre, quelque chose qui t'échappait ? L'effort est terrible, le cerveau coule par les oreilles, mais à un moment il se produit, disons, un déclic, cela s'organise soudain, devient compréhensible... la fabuleuse sensation, y compris physique, que l'on éprouve à cet instant est un des plus grands plaisirs de l'existence. Bon...faut du temps...
Sur "honnorer" tu es mesquin ! 😠 (🙂). Honneur a deux "n" donc, honorer devrait en avoir deux, si le français n'avait pas une orthographe aussi irrationnelle.🤪
Donc ça se mange bien les étoiles, enfin les Sterne, parce que ni en français, ni en italien, ce mot ne correspond à quoi que ce soit de comestible (il y a bien le stelline en italien, mais je vois mal un habitant de la Könisberg de la fin du XVIII° siècle manger ce genre de pâtes). Je ne comprenais pas pourquoi, ni surtout comment, Kant pouvait demander à Lampe d'acquérir des astres.
Bon week-end également,
Catherine
PS : Ah, tu me rassures. Je me demandais si c'était moi qui étais complètement stupide. Je crois que c'est une question d'entraînement... Tu ne t'es jamais acharné à lire, à comprendre, quelque chose qui t'échappait ? L'effort est terrible, le cerveau coule par les oreilles, mais à un moment il se produit, disons, un déclic, cela s'organise soudain, devient compréhensible... la fabuleuse sensation, y compris physique, que l'on éprouve à cet instant est un des plus grands plaisirs de l'existence. Bon...faut du temps...
Sur "honnorer" tu es mesquin ! 😠 (🙂). Honneur a deux "n" donc, honorer devrait en avoir deux, si le français n'avait pas une orthographe aussi irrationnelle.🤪
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The guide also includes suggestions for shikara rides, houseboat rentals, and gear for hunting, camping, fishing, and photography.
Plus, it lists various supplies like chocolate, Egyptian cigarettes, frames, and alcohol.
Note that the Murree Brewery, relocated to Rawalpindi, is still operational—though, in theory, the predominantly Muslim population can’t access it.
I found this book in a box of old books, and you can still find copies on Anglo-Saxon websites—though often at prohibitive prices.
This copy (225 pages, 9th edition, 1913), published in Lahore, features dozens of detailed itineraries with maps, covering campsites, mountain pastures, river crossings, and more. Among them, you can trek from Srinagar to Khapalu and then to Baltistan, or "travel" from Leh to Yarkand (Xinjiang) via the Nubra Valley, along with other unexpected destinations.
The guide also includes suggestions for shikara rides, houseboat rentals, and gear for hunting, camping, fishing, and photography.
Plus, it lists various supplies like chocolate, Egyptian cigarettes, frames, and alcohol.
Note that the Murree Brewery, relocated to Rawalpindi, is still operational—though, in theory, the predominantly Muslim population can’t access it.
I found this book in a box of old books, and you can still find copies on Anglo-Saxon websites—though often at prohibitive prices."400 pages of verbal pyrotechnics and animal magic" — The Times
"Bulawayo leans into exaggeration and irony to tell hard truths. *Glory* is jam-packed with comedy and farce, poking fun at an autocratic regime while illustrating the absurdity and surreal nature of a police state." — The Guardian
The cruelty and savagery of Zimbabwe’s (and Africa’s in general) "powerful animals"
Zimbabwean author NoViolet Bulawayo has written a novel that illustrates better than any documentary the complexity of colonial legacy. In doing so, she revisits George Orwell’s Animal Farm. Her novel *Glory* is a political satire about Zimbabwe—and it’s brimming with humor.
For thirty years, Zimbabwe has been stagnating under Robert Mugabe’s presidency. Human rights violations, corruption, and international sanctions have kept the population mired in poverty and oppression, while the regime exploits the meager earnings of the economy. As the 2017 elections approach, a power struggle erupts over the succession of the very elderly Father of the Nation (Mugabe). On the streets, people hope for long-awaited reforms; the people feel their moment has come.
And indeed, the army ousts Mugabe and his wife—"with her Gucci heels" (p.32)—who was positioning herself for the presidency. Hopes are dashed, however. The generals install former vice-president Emmerson Mnangagwa in power; the regime merely changes faces, but the problems remain the same.
In the novel, the country is called "Jidada, with a -da and another -da" (p.1); there’s no mistaking that this fictional state is Zimbabwe.
For *Glory*, her second novel, NoViolet Bulawayo invents a whole series of codes whose strength lies precisely in how easy they are to decipher. Like George Orwell’s Animal Farm, the characters populating Bulawayo’s universe aren’t humans but horses, goats, or crocodiles with all-too-human traits. Mugabe and Mnangagwa are horses, the spiritual leader is a pig, the soldiers are all bloodthirsty dogs, while the populace consists of goats, chickens, donkeys, and cats. The shift to the animal world serves only to better grasp the laws of despotism—and to ridicule real-life models. On one hand, the animals are humanized: they tweet, torture, travel in private jets. On the other, their greed, stupidity, and brutality stem from their animal nature.
It’s the old trick of fable: dressing men in animal disguises to make them easier to recognize. That’s how Orwell, in Animal Farm, traced how the promise of liberation from the Russian Revolution turned into Stalinist terror. In his 1945 fable, George Orwell describes how the animals of a farm drive out their farmer to organize the exploitation themselves, collectively. For a time, they truly taste freedom, but a clique of pigs ends up taking control. The central figures of the Soviet story—Stalin, Trotsky, Molotov—were easily recognizable.
Yet Bulawayo departs sharply from Orwell. She’s less concerned with precision and the force of argument than with satirical exaggeration. The deposed president is a senile old man who believes he can control even the sun’s course. The new stallion in power is a greedy debaucher. His soldiers sniff respectfully at his tail and backside.
In Bulawayo’s *Glory*, things are more complicated, but her novel also tells of a failed, incomplete liberation. In the author’s Animal Farm, Jidada, the colonial exploiters are followed by new forms of oppression. Because the former liberators become tyrants themselves. And because global power dynamics persist in neocolonial structures.
Wouldn’t that be enough to fuel a deeply depressing narrative? No—Bulawayo turns it into a blazing satire, full of wit and uncompromising criticism of power, a thread running through contemporary (not just) Zimbabwean history. The old warhorses in NoViolet Bulawayo’s Jidada, who continue to act as pack leaders, are easily recognizable as caricatures of the longtime dictator Robert Mugabe and his successor, current president Emmerson Mnangagwa.
The plot kicks off in high gear with independence day festivities. From the crack of dawn, everyone waits on Jidada Square for the Old Horse, the Father of the Nation and former liberator, whose reign "was nearing all of—not one, not two, not three, but four solid decades" (p.1). Everywhere, the colors of the Jidada Party shine; everywhere, true supporters cheer. Even the scorching sun plays its part: "At this point the sun, upon seeing arrive the leader who was decreed by God himself to rule and rule and keep ruling, a leader who'd in turn decreed the very sun to head his cheerleading squad, took a deep, deep breath and thoroughly blazed to impress" (p.2).
Finally, the Old Horse’s luxury carriage approaches "with the slowness of a hearse" (p.2), and "hoping to catch a glimpse of the legendary Father of the Nation," which causes "the animals fell over themselves like intoxicated frogs" (p.2). The sovereign’s speech is delayed a moment longer: "what I really want is a nap," groans the Old Horse as he takes his seat with such care "like his backside was made of expensive porcelain" (p.6).
Meanwhile, Bulawayo parades his entourage: the president’s wife (who earns her doctorate at Jidada University faster than "you could say diss, for dissertation. Tholukuthi it was as easy as ordering from a KFC drive-through, or perhaps even easier being that it was cheaper than KFC; it in fact cost her nothing and the degree actually came with a zero-calorie Diet Coke and a purple straw" (p.41), and she’s now known as Dr Sweet Mother. The cabinet includes "the Minister of the Revolution, the Minister of Corruption, the Minister of Order, the Minister of Things, the Minister of Nothing, the Minister of Propaganda, the Minister of Homophobic Affairs, the Minister of Disinformation and the Minister of Looting" (p.9). And of course the vice-president, who will soon become interim president when the Old Horse finally kicks the bucket—and then settle in as the new long-term president, who in the novel is called Tuvius Delight Shasha, or "Tuvy" for short (p.253), none other than Emmerson Mnangagwa. It’s him Bulawayo reserves her most merciless character description for.
"New Dispensation" (p.109) is Tuvy’s slogan for Jidada, and he loves repeating it so much he even named his parrot after it ("So inspired was Tuvy by the realisation that he rechristened his new pet parrot with the name New Dispensation—tholukuthi the bird having been acquired explicitly for the purposes of tweeting eulogies and accordingly glorifying the Saviour throughout the airs and skies of the nation. Tuvy then went on to hire a lecturer in English from the University of Jidada to teach New Dispensation to say the phrase 'New Dispensation'" p.110). But Tuvy’s Zimbabwe remains a nation without free, fair, and credible elections ("#freefairncredibleelection" p.161), and the promised equal treatment applies only insofar as Zimbabweans now queue up without discrimination in endless lines—and everyone is as poor as the next in the "queuenation" (p.283). Except for the powerful. They can "yes, tholukuthi, her immeasurable riches theirs to take. And take they did—
just take—take—take—take—take—take—take—take—take—take—take—take—take—take—take—take—take—take—take—take—take—take—take—take—take—take—take" (p.249-250).
In short: Bulawayo brilliantly depicts how former independence fighters become exploiters themselves. And how the country threatens to suffocate under the weight of corruption and repression. But she also literally stages the polyphony with which the people oppose imposed obedience to the official line.
Controversial online discussions keep interrupting the narrative—dialogues and social threads (see photo below) that Bulawayo masterfully integrates. From a literary standpoint, it’s a brilliant idea. And it shows, above all, that the author’s sympathy—so likeable—goes to all those who refuse to let their dream of true freedom be stolen, not even by the corrupt elites of their own country.
In the book’s acknowledgments, the first tribute goes to "The Jidadas of the world, clamouring for freedom on many fronts—A luta continua." (p.401) This reflects the realization that, not only in Jidada-Zimbabwe but in many other corners of the world, the end of colonial domination is still far from meaning the freedom hoped for by the vast majority of people. But it also means, more broadly, that this freedom must be won "on many fronts" (see above), both domestically and geopolitically.
That’s precisely what *Glory* so vividly highlights: how complex the project behind the term "postcolonialism" really is. With *Glory*, Bulawayo also delivers a scathing critique of the persistence of colonial mindsets in the West.
In the novel, the murder of George Floyd, racist police violence, and white-supremacist ideology in Trump’s United States perfectly illustrate the persistence of racism. It’s especially in the final chapters that Bulawayo lets Jidada’s inhabitants explicitly and unflinchingly criticize a neocolonial world order:
"It was not lost on us how the West, which loved to 'save' Africa and announce every action to the whole world, did so with one limb while manipulating, looting and fleecing us with the rest of its limbs so that more money in fact poured out of the continent than trickled in." (p.376)
"It was no mistake that multinational corporations yearly reaped and shipped colossal profits from Africa back to their countries as had been the case during colonial times. Even the sticks and stones would tell you that the African earth at any given time howled and shook and heaved from the extraction of its precious minerals that rarely benefited its own miserable children." (p.376)
"(...) we vowed to wage yet another war for Africa's second Liberation from neocolonial oppression. From exploitation. From plunder. From Western dominion. From indignity. From Abuse. We wanted real freedom. We wanted greedy, thieving paws off our wealth. We wanted Justice. We wanted a new world; we wanted a brand-new world so much we didn't sleep a wink that night." (p.377)
The Jidadas of this world must fight two enemies: Western neocolonialism and the autocratic instrumentalization of that argument; the persistence of Western racism and the populist appropriation of that humiliation by tyrants from their own ranks. Neither of these obstacles to freedom diminishes the historical and current guilt of the other. But the path to postcolonial liberation must overcome all these forms of oppression. After all, the colonizers didn’t bequeath democracies to formerly dominated nations, but instability and the principles of oppression and exploitation—which the so-called liberators have also internalized. Yet the fact that a satirical novel can capture the complexity of historical relationships while remaining, despite all the darkness of the subject, hilarious—well, that’s truly astonishing.
Finally, *Glory* ties into a major trauma in Zimbabwe’s post-independence history: the so-called Gukurahundi massacres. Between 1983 and 1987, tens of thousands of civilians were murdered by Mugabe’s bloody henchmen, most of them Ndebele. The State Security Minister and head of secret services at the time? You guessed it—Emmerson Mnangagwa.
When *Glory* turns to the massacres, the novel’s tone shifts completely. The story is now told through the narrative of the goat called Destiny, who, like NoViolet Bulawayo herself, left her home country at 18 for the United States and only returned after 13 years. In the book, the city of Bulawayo becomes a village where Destiny retraces her family’s history—and learns that part of it was also brutally murdered during the massacres.
The abuse of power and life under a dictatorship, dispossession, and a fiercely proud awareness of the psychological wounds and emotional vulnerability of a uprooted and disenfranchised people who had to forge a new language—a new set of names—to express their lived experiences are at the heart of this wonderful Zimbabwean author’s literary work, NoViolet Bulawayo. Shortly after her studies, she was already writing short stories about postcolonial power dynamics in Africa. But her playful, masterful, and often unconventional approach to language also plays a key role in her work. With virtuosity, she shifts from cynical images of power-obsessed elites to compassionate descriptions of the people’s suffering, ending with a hopeful sermon on courage—the courage to break free from fear and thus gain the strength for change ("And every one of them understood that whatever they heard within those hearts was the new national anthem, tholukuthi an anthem that spoke of the kind of glory that burns eternal and glows with living light." p.400). This novel is a genuine pleasure to read. And it’s exceptional. Good, African...
Book info (original English and German translation):
NoViolet Bulawayo. Glory. Chatto & Windus, 2022. NoViolet Bulawayo. Glory. Suhrkamp, 2023.
Hery
The books (in English, in German)
Author NoViolet Bulawayo, Zimbabwe
Threads (p.164-165)
"Bulawayo leans into exaggeration and irony to tell hard truths. *Glory* is jam-packed with comedy and farce, poking fun at an autocratic regime while illustrating the absurdity and surreal nature of a police state." — The Guardian
The cruelty and savagery of Zimbabwe’s (and Africa’s in general) "powerful animals"
Zimbabwean author NoViolet Bulawayo has written a novel that illustrates better than any documentary the complexity of colonial legacy. In doing so, she revisits George Orwell’s Animal Farm. Her novel *Glory* is a political satire about Zimbabwe—and it’s brimming with humor.
For thirty years, Zimbabwe has been stagnating under Robert Mugabe’s presidency. Human rights violations, corruption, and international sanctions have kept the population mired in poverty and oppression, while the regime exploits the meager earnings of the economy. As the 2017 elections approach, a power struggle erupts over the succession of the very elderly Father of the Nation (Mugabe). On the streets, people hope for long-awaited reforms; the people feel their moment has come.
And indeed, the army ousts Mugabe and his wife—"with her Gucci heels" (p.32)—who was positioning herself for the presidency. Hopes are dashed, however. The generals install former vice-president Emmerson Mnangagwa in power; the regime merely changes faces, but the problems remain the same.
In the novel, the country is called "Jidada, with a -da and another -da" (p.1); there’s no mistaking that this fictional state is Zimbabwe.
For *Glory*, her second novel, NoViolet Bulawayo invents a whole series of codes whose strength lies precisely in how easy they are to decipher. Like George Orwell’s Animal Farm, the characters populating Bulawayo’s universe aren’t humans but horses, goats, or crocodiles with all-too-human traits. Mugabe and Mnangagwa are horses, the spiritual leader is a pig, the soldiers are all bloodthirsty dogs, while the populace consists of goats, chickens, donkeys, and cats. The shift to the animal world serves only to better grasp the laws of despotism—and to ridicule real-life models. On one hand, the animals are humanized: they tweet, torture, travel in private jets. On the other, their greed, stupidity, and brutality stem from their animal nature.
It’s the old trick of fable: dressing men in animal disguises to make them easier to recognize. That’s how Orwell, in Animal Farm, traced how the promise of liberation from the Russian Revolution turned into Stalinist terror. In his 1945 fable, George Orwell describes how the animals of a farm drive out their farmer to organize the exploitation themselves, collectively. For a time, they truly taste freedom, but a clique of pigs ends up taking control. The central figures of the Soviet story—Stalin, Trotsky, Molotov—were easily recognizable.
Yet Bulawayo departs sharply from Orwell. She’s less concerned with precision and the force of argument than with satirical exaggeration. The deposed president is a senile old man who believes he can control even the sun’s course. The new stallion in power is a greedy debaucher. His soldiers sniff respectfully at his tail and backside.
In Bulawayo’s *Glory*, things are more complicated, but her novel also tells of a failed, incomplete liberation. In the author’s Animal Farm, Jidada, the colonial exploiters are followed by new forms of oppression. Because the former liberators become tyrants themselves. And because global power dynamics persist in neocolonial structures.
Wouldn’t that be enough to fuel a deeply depressing narrative? No—Bulawayo turns it into a blazing satire, full of wit and uncompromising criticism of power, a thread running through contemporary (not just) Zimbabwean history. The old warhorses in NoViolet Bulawayo’s Jidada, who continue to act as pack leaders, are easily recognizable as caricatures of the longtime dictator Robert Mugabe and his successor, current president Emmerson Mnangagwa.
The plot kicks off in high gear with independence day festivities. From the crack of dawn, everyone waits on Jidada Square for the Old Horse, the Father of the Nation and former liberator, whose reign "was nearing all of—not one, not two, not three, but four solid decades" (p.1). Everywhere, the colors of the Jidada Party shine; everywhere, true supporters cheer. Even the scorching sun plays its part: "At this point the sun, upon seeing arrive the leader who was decreed by God himself to rule and rule and keep ruling, a leader who'd in turn decreed the very sun to head his cheerleading squad, took a deep, deep breath and thoroughly blazed to impress" (p.2).
Finally, the Old Horse’s luxury carriage approaches "with the slowness of a hearse" (p.2), and "hoping to catch a glimpse of the legendary Father of the Nation," which causes "the animals fell over themselves like intoxicated frogs" (p.2). The sovereign’s speech is delayed a moment longer: "what I really want is a nap," groans the Old Horse as he takes his seat with such care "like his backside was made of expensive porcelain" (p.6).
Meanwhile, Bulawayo parades his entourage: the president’s wife (who earns her doctorate at Jidada University faster than "you could say diss, for dissertation. Tholukuthi it was as easy as ordering from a KFC drive-through, or perhaps even easier being that it was cheaper than KFC; it in fact cost her nothing and the degree actually came with a zero-calorie Diet Coke and a purple straw" (p.41), and she’s now known as Dr Sweet Mother. The cabinet includes "the Minister of the Revolution, the Minister of Corruption, the Minister of Order, the Minister of Things, the Minister of Nothing, the Minister of Propaganda, the Minister of Homophobic Affairs, the Minister of Disinformation and the Minister of Looting" (p.9). And of course the vice-president, who will soon become interim president when the Old Horse finally kicks the bucket—and then settle in as the new long-term president, who in the novel is called Tuvius Delight Shasha, or "Tuvy" for short (p.253), none other than Emmerson Mnangagwa. It’s him Bulawayo reserves her most merciless character description for.
"New Dispensation" (p.109) is Tuvy’s slogan for Jidada, and he loves repeating it so much he even named his parrot after it ("So inspired was Tuvy by the realisation that he rechristened his new pet parrot with the name New Dispensation—tholukuthi the bird having been acquired explicitly for the purposes of tweeting eulogies and accordingly glorifying the Saviour throughout the airs and skies of the nation. Tuvy then went on to hire a lecturer in English from the University of Jidada to teach New Dispensation to say the phrase 'New Dispensation'" p.110). But Tuvy’s Zimbabwe remains a nation without free, fair, and credible elections ("#freefairncredibleelection" p.161), and the promised equal treatment applies only insofar as Zimbabweans now queue up without discrimination in endless lines—and everyone is as poor as the next in the "queuenation" (p.283). Except for the powerful. They can "yes, tholukuthi, her immeasurable riches theirs to take. And take they did—
just take—take—take—take—take—take—take—take—take—take—take—take—take—take—take—take—take—take—take—take—take—take—take—take—take—take—take" (p.249-250).
In short: Bulawayo brilliantly depicts how former independence fighters become exploiters themselves. And how the country threatens to suffocate under the weight of corruption and repression. But she also literally stages the polyphony with which the people oppose imposed obedience to the official line.
Controversial online discussions keep interrupting the narrative—dialogues and social threads (see photo below) that Bulawayo masterfully integrates. From a literary standpoint, it’s a brilliant idea. And it shows, above all, that the author’s sympathy—so likeable—goes to all those who refuse to let their dream of true freedom be stolen, not even by the corrupt elites of their own country.
In the book’s acknowledgments, the first tribute goes to "The Jidadas of the world, clamouring for freedom on many fronts—A luta continua." (p.401) This reflects the realization that, not only in Jidada-Zimbabwe but in many other corners of the world, the end of colonial domination is still far from meaning the freedom hoped for by the vast majority of people. But it also means, more broadly, that this freedom must be won "on many fronts" (see above), both domestically and geopolitically.
That’s precisely what *Glory* so vividly highlights: how complex the project behind the term "postcolonialism" really is. With *Glory*, Bulawayo also delivers a scathing critique of the persistence of colonial mindsets in the West.
In the novel, the murder of George Floyd, racist police violence, and white-supremacist ideology in Trump’s United States perfectly illustrate the persistence of racism. It’s especially in the final chapters that Bulawayo lets Jidada’s inhabitants explicitly and unflinchingly criticize a neocolonial world order:
"It was not lost on us how the West, which loved to 'save' Africa and announce every action to the whole world, did so with one limb while manipulating, looting and fleecing us with the rest of its limbs so that more money in fact poured out of the continent than trickled in." (p.376)
"It was no mistake that multinational corporations yearly reaped and shipped colossal profits from Africa back to their countries as had been the case during colonial times. Even the sticks and stones would tell you that the African earth at any given time howled and shook and heaved from the extraction of its precious minerals that rarely benefited its own miserable children." (p.376)
"(...) we vowed to wage yet another war for Africa's second Liberation from neocolonial oppression. From exploitation. From plunder. From Western dominion. From indignity. From Abuse. We wanted real freedom. We wanted greedy, thieving paws off our wealth. We wanted Justice. We wanted a new world; we wanted a brand-new world so much we didn't sleep a wink that night." (p.377)
The Jidadas of this world must fight two enemies: Western neocolonialism and the autocratic instrumentalization of that argument; the persistence of Western racism and the populist appropriation of that humiliation by tyrants from their own ranks. Neither of these obstacles to freedom diminishes the historical and current guilt of the other. But the path to postcolonial liberation must overcome all these forms of oppression. After all, the colonizers didn’t bequeath democracies to formerly dominated nations, but instability and the principles of oppression and exploitation—which the so-called liberators have also internalized. Yet the fact that a satirical novel can capture the complexity of historical relationships while remaining, despite all the darkness of the subject, hilarious—well, that’s truly astonishing.
Finally, *Glory* ties into a major trauma in Zimbabwe’s post-independence history: the so-called Gukurahundi massacres. Between 1983 and 1987, tens of thousands of civilians were murdered by Mugabe’s bloody henchmen, most of them Ndebele. The State Security Minister and head of secret services at the time? You guessed it—Emmerson Mnangagwa.
When *Glory* turns to the massacres, the novel’s tone shifts completely. The story is now told through the narrative of the goat called Destiny, who, like NoViolet Bulawayo herself, left her home country at 18 for the United States and only returned after 13 years. In the book, the city of Bulawayo becomes a village where Destiny retraces her family’s history—and learns that part of it was also brutally murdered during the massacres.
The abuse of power and life under a dictatorship, dispossession, and a fiercely proud awareness of the psychological wounds and emotional vulnerability of a uprooted and disenfranchised people who had to forge a new language—a new set of names—to express their lived experiences are at the heart of this wonderful Zimbabwean author’s literary work, NoViolet Bulawayo. Shortly after her studies, she was already writing short stories about postcolonial power dynamics in Africa. But her playful, masterful, and often unconventional approach to language also plays a key role in her work. With virtuosity, she shifts from cynical images of power-obsessed elites to compassionate descriptions of the people’s suffering, ending with a hopeful sermon on courage—the courage to break free from fear and thus gain the strength for change ("And every one of them understood that whatever they heard within those hearts was the new national anthem, tholukuthi an anthem that spoke of the kind of glory that burns eternal and glows with living light." p.400). This novel is a genuine pleasure to read. And it’s exceptional. Good, African...
Book info (original English and German translation):
NoViolet Bulawayo. Glory. Chatto & Windus, 2022. NoViolet Bulawayo. Glory. Suhrkamp, 2023.
Hery
The books (in English, in German)
Author NoViolet Bulawayo, Zimbabwe
Threads (p.164-165)“When the Whites came to Africa, we had the land and they had the Bible. They taught us to pray with our eyes closed: when we opened them, the Whites had the land and we had the Bible.” Jomo Kenyatta (p.7)
The Maggi cube, an unchallenged hegemony, and so much more
“The hopeless continent,” headlined The Economist, a British magazine, in July 2000 about Africa. Eleven years later, the same magazine headlined “Africa rising” instead. Images of Africa in the prosperous North constantly oscillate between apocalyptic scenarios and enthusiastic projections. A key issue with such images lies in the generalization they entail. If you look at the continent, considerable contrasts emerge depending on space and time. It’s no surprise that a region of the world encompassing such diverse ecological zones, maintaining such varied ties with other continents, comprising nearly fifty nation-states in sub-Saharan Africa alone, and characterized by a great diversity of languages, belief systems, and historical paths, doesn’t share a single destiny.
And yet, for many people outside Africa, as well as for many Africans, the continent constitutes a single entity, defined by criteria such as skin color, a colonial past, poverty, and the art of survival. Until now, these perspectives were generally accompanied by the idea that Africa had to—or should have—followed a single path together, sometimes called development, sometimes modernization, sometimes liberation, then a market economy. None of these paths delivered on their promises.
The two writers Alain Mabanckou and Abdourahman Waberi—one from Congo, the other raised in Djibouti, both long settled in France and now professors at renowned North American universities (Los Angeles, Washington)—have had enough of pessimistic scenarios: “We are aware that Africa is in the world and the world is in Africa. The same goes for all other continents, as our destinies are inextricably linked for better or worse. We refuse to see Africa as a reservoir of misfortunes or a continent cursed by atavistic misfortune and characterized by ethnic conflicts. [...] It’s this passionate flame we wanted to capture in a book [...] a kind of stroll through African cultures, without any demands, each letter of the alphabet leading us to a notion, a practice, a concept, a moment in history, literature, painting, politics, economics, cuisine, etc.” (p.10-11). Africa, they write, is on the verge of “imposing a signature, a style, a way of being in the world and in relation to the rest of the world.” (p.11) To put words to the continent’s diversity and dynamism, the two authors created a “rambling ABC,” a kind of portrait—or more precisely, a mythography—that lets you see and feel the pulse of a vast continent whose cultural power is unfolding before our eyes. Once marginalized or even mocked, the voice and importance of the Continent in global affairs are now undeniable” (p.11), containing over a hundred entries, mostly concise, written in a relaxed and casual style. The optimistic, even exuberant tone is set from the brief introduction. The duo of authors wants to “sing a love song to the cultures of our continent, to its inhabitants past and present, to its exceptional resources and its spectacular globalization despite a certain pollution that still clouds our skies due to the unmatched duration of dictatorships in some of our regions.” (p.12) In doing so, they don’t want to be too distracted by today’s Afewerki-Biya-Bongo-Déby & Co. ...
Of course, you’ll find tributes to great precursors like Frantz Fanon (“[...] it was a love story and admiration that wasn’t dimmed by the four decades separating his birth from ours. Let’s add that we were born while the native of Fort-de-France had left the world’s stage four years earlier, in the prime of life” p.141), Mongo Beti (“You must read and reread Mongo Beti, a genius who used his fame to support often just causes in Africa, like defending oppressed groups. His place is already in History. His oppressors, like the dictators Ahmadou Ahidjo and Paul Biya, can’t compete in the same category” p.64), the Malian Amadou Hampâté Bâ
(“Posterity remembers him mainly as an tireless defender of African cultures. His plea for the collection and preservation of traditional African knowledge remains a major event for all men and women of good will. One day in 1960, at the UNESCO podium, the native of Bandiagara sounded the alarm: ‘[...] Since we’ve admitted that the humanity of each people is the heritage of all humanity, if African traditions aren’t collected in time and written down, they’ll one day be missing from the universal archives of humanity.’” p.51),
Kwame Nkrumah, “one of the founders of Pan-Africanism, father of Ghana’s independence” (p.239), as well as the historian Cheikh Anta Diop, the writer, poet, and politician Aimé Césaire, and the economist and thinker Samir Amin, but also very warm tributes to certain contemporary African intellectuals like Souleymane Bachir Diagne and Achille Mbembe
(“A few years ago, in dominant economic circles, a rumor often resurfaced, usually disguised as a cold and scientifically proven analysis: Africa is useless. It’s a burden for the rest of the human community. With its 2% share in world trade, it would disappear from stock market radars without anyone noticing. So? Maybe it’ll be pulled up by other continents. Wanting to surpass itself is a crazy bet for Africans, they concluded. Arrogant or clueless, President Nicolas Sarkozy declared before an audience of students and teachers at Cheikh Anta Diop University in Dakar: ‘The African man hasn’t entered history enough [...] He only knows the eternal repetition of time marked by the endless repetition of the same gestures and words.’ That was in 2007. For decades, armed only with reason, an intellectual often steps up to debunk prejudices, lazy readings, and dishonest frameworks used as false fronts by those who, like Nicolas Sarkozy or former journalist Stephen Smith, out of ignorance, contempt, or condescension, distort African reality. This intellectual is none other than the historian and political scientist Achille Mbembe. This heir of Frantz Fanon, Amílcar Cabral, Jean-Marc Ela, and Fabien Eboussi-Boulaga was born in 1957 in Cameroon, in the Bassa region. Marked early by the upheavals of a fratricidal war, Achille Mbembe became the guardian of the memory of martyrs. After brilliant studies in Paris, he went on to teach at the best American universities, but the call of the Continent was stronger than anything else. In Dakar, he once directed CODESRIA (Council for the Development of Social Science Research in Africa) before joining the University of the Witwatersrand in Johannesburg, South Africa. Even though the author of *Critique of Black Reason* (Éditions La Découverte, 2015) spends a few months at Duke University in North Carolina, his observation post remains South Africa. From Johannesburg, Achille Mbembe scrutinizes Africa and the whole world. A lucid observer with an elegant and generous pen, Achille Mbembe knows how to blend big and small history: ‘I was born one day in July, as the month was drawing to a close. It was 1957, in that part of Africa recently named ‘Cameroon,’ a memory of the wonder that seized Portuguese sailors in the 15th century when, sailing up the river near Douala, they couldn’t help but note the presence of a multitude of crustaceans, and named it *Rio dos Camarões*, meaning ‘River of Shrimp.’ I grew up in the shadow of this nameless land, since, in a way, the name it bears is only the product of someone else’s astonishment: a lexical mistake, if you will.’ From this mistake or wound, he made leaven, a springboard to compose a rich work, recognized worldwide. To denounce barriers and barbarians too. But that’s not enough. Among his peers in circles of thought and action, Achille Mbembe passionately and consistently defends human dignity and the beauty of the world. In doing so, he fulfills the mission Frantz Fanon entrusted to him.” (p.227-229),
as well as entries dedicated to lesser-known artists and intellectuals, like the French journalist and activist Rokhaya Diallo, daughter of Senegalese and Gambian parents, or the Ethiopian filmmaker Haile Gerima, who has long lived in the United States. Other names from politics, sports, music, art, and literature: Kofi Annan, p.36; Barack Obama, p.243; Thomas Sankara, p.277; Ousmane Sow, p.285; Yambo Ouologuem, p.250; Léopold Sédar Senghor, p.282; Muhammad Ali, p.30; Nuruddin Farah, p.146; Salif Keita, p.203; Ahmadou Kourouma, p.206; Ngũgĩ wa Thiong’o, p.236; Winnie Mandela, p.224; Kylian Mbappé, p.226 ...
The authors, who resolutely commit to a “mythography” (p.11) of Africa, also pay special attention to local social movements, cultural events, and aspects of daily life. *Y’en a marre*, “which also meant ‘we’re fed up with sitting on our hands’” (p.320-321), emerged about a decade ago in Senegal as a citizen movement of peaceful resistance and symbolizes, the authors emphasize, the fact that African youth are increasingly fed up “with the political circus deployed in Africa since independence, as our parents would say, ‘since the White man left’...” (p.321). A full entry is dedicated to the Maggi bouillon cube, which has flooded African markets for about forty years and enjoys immense popularity (“It’s everywhere in Africa, from Dakar to Djibouti, and from Tangier to Cape Town. It’s in every pot, every stew. Little hands put it in every sauce, every local or adapted dish. An unchallenged hegemony! You’ll find it in diasporas too. The culinary strolls in Paris, in the [...] neighborhood” p.90). Critics blame it not only for impoverishing the aromatic diversity of local dishes but also for being harmful to health. And yet, “he poorest Africans, those who eat only once a day, a few spoonfuls of white beans and a ball of *foufou*, for example, are the most fervent users of the magic cube.” (p.92-93)
For *fonio*, “the new trendy cereal. [...] From the millet family, fonio is probably the oldest cereal cultivated in West Africa, and mainly in its sub-Saharan part, for millennia. [...] Easy to grow, water-efficient, fonio grows everywhere except on clay soils. Long neglected because it was considered the poor man’s crop, fonio is now a source of pride for the farmers who cultivate it and cherish it like the apple of their eye” (p.156-157), the authors immediately offer a detailed recipe, letting the reader know that “e can’t resist sharing this fonio with chicken recipe from Mali with you:
Ingredients: 1 chicken 3 large ripe red tomatoes 4 tbsp tomato paste 4 large onions 1 garlic clove 1/2 cup oil 2 Maggi cubes or salt 2 large carrots 1 turnip 1 large cabbage 2 large potatoes 1 celery stalk 1 packet pre-cooked fonio 4 okra (or okra powder) salt, pepper
Preparation: 1. Prepare the sauce: wash and cut the chicken. Peel the onions, garlic, and vegetables. 2. In a pot, fry the chicken pieces. 3. Dice the onions, tomatoes, carrots, and turnip very small and add them to the pot. 4. Add the tomato paste, salt, and pepper. 5. Simmer for 15 min, then add 2 L of water and the cooked chicken pieces. 6. Simmer for 30 min, then add the crushed garlic and celery, plus the cabbage cut into 4 and the potatoes cut in half. 7. Prepare the fonio: cover it with warm water, let it rest for 15 min, and cook it over low heat. 8. In a small pot, boil the okra and crush them. 9. Mix the crushed okra with the cooked fonio, then salt. Serve hot.” (p.158-159)
The comedy *Black Mic Mac*, released in French theaters in 1986 and addressing France’s increasingly restrictive immigration policy at the time, also gets an entry, as do *Tintin in the Congo*, the popular comic, and *Jip’s Café* (“[...] a little Africa in the heart of Paris, with passersby stopping to admire the ‘ambianceurs’ on the dance floor or attend the cultural events offered by the place” (p.194), an African establishment in Paris that Alain Mabanckou already immortalized in one of his novels.
The duo of authors also tackles thorny subjects like jihadism (p.119), the Rwandan genocide (p.272), the CFA franc (p.82), and dictatorship (p.110). While the two strike the right tone here, many entries leave a slightly bitter taste. Two examples: why doesn’t the text on Barack Obama mention the great disappointment of many people in Africa, who expected more from the African policy of the first U.S. president with African roots than just occasional warm words? Why do the comments on Winnie Mandela gloss over the fact that she was a highly controversial icon of the anti-apartheid movement due to her involvement in kidnappings, acts of torture, and murders of alleged apartheid collaborators? Instead, there’s a compassion that brings tears to the eyes: “She was often reduced to a secondary role, the wife of a great man” or “When victory came, she didn’t taste its fruits. Divorced, isolated. She would never be a ‘first lady’ in an evening gown, posing before a bed of chrysanthemums. They’d keep her far from the circles of power” (p.224-225). At this point, I would’ve liked the authors to take a slightly more critical stance...
That said, these “weaknesses” (if you can call them that) shouldn’t overshadow the book as a whole. It remains an informative, sometimes very entertaining, and often even original work in its own way.
Book information (the original French and the German translation):
Alain Mabanckou/Abdourahman Waberi. Dictionnaire enjoué des cultures africaines. Fayard, 2019. Alain Mabanckou/Abdourahman Waberi. Der Puls Afrikas. Eine Liebeserklärung von A bis Z. Reclam, 2022.
Hery
The Maggi cube, an unchallenged hegemony, and so much more
“The hopeless continent,” headlined The Economist, a British magazine, in July 2000 about Africa. Eleven years later, the same magazine headlined “Africa rising” instead. Images of Africa in the prosperous North constantly oscillate between apocalyptic scenarios and enthusiastic projections. A key issue with such images lies in the generalization they entail. If you look at the continent, considerable contrasts emerge depending on space and time. It’s no surprise that a region of the world encompassing such diverse ecological zones, maintaining such varied ties with other continents, comprising nearly fifty nation-states in sub-Saharan Africa alone, and characterized by a great diversity of languages, belief systems, and historical paths, doesn’t share a single destiny.
And yet, for many people outside Africa, as well as for many Africans, the continent constitutes a single entity, defined by criteria such as skin color, a colonial past, poverty, and the art of survival. Until now, these perspectives were generally accompanied by the idea that Africa had to—or should have—followed a single path together, sometimes called development, sometimes modernization, sometimes liberation, then a market economy. None of these paths delivered on their promises.
The two writers Alain Mabanckou and Abdourahman Waberi—one from Congo, the other raised in Djibouti, both long settled in France and now professors at renowned North American universities (Los Angeles, Washington)—have had enough of pessimistic scenarios: “We are aware that Africa is in the world and the world is in Africa. The same goes for all other continents, as our destinies are inextricably linked for better or worse. We refuse to see Africa as a reservoir of misfortunes or a continent cursed by atavistic misfortune and characterized by ethnic conflicts. [...] It’s this passionate flame we wanted to capture in a book [...] a kind of stroll through African cultures, without any demands, each letter of the alphabet leading us to a notion, a practice, a concept, a moment in history, literature, painting, politics, economics, cuisine, etc.” (p.10-11). Africa, they write, is on the verge of “imposing a signature, a style, a way of being in the world and in relation to the rest of the world.” (p.11) To put words to the continent’s diversity and dynamism, the two authors created a “rambling ABC,” a kind of portrait—or more precisely, a mythography—that lets you see and feel the pulse of a vast continent whose cultural power is unfolding before our eyes. Once marginalized or even mocked, the voice and importance of the Continent in global affairs are now undeniable” (p.11), containing over a hundred entries, mostly concise, written in a relaxed and casual style. The optimistic, even exuberant tone is set from the brief introduction. The duo of authors wants to “sing a love song to the cultures of our continent, to its inhabitants past and present, to its exceptional resources and its spectacular globalization despite a certain pollution that still clouds our skies due to the unmatched duration of dictatorships in some of our regions.” (p.12) In doing so, they don’t want to be too distracted by today’s Afewerki-Biya-Bongo-Déby & Co. ...
Of course, you’ll find tributes to great precursors like Frantz Fanon (“[...] it was a love story and admiration that wasn’t dimmed by the four decades separating his birth from ours. Let’s add that we were born while the native of Fort-de-France had left the world’s stage four years earlier, in the prime of life” p.141), Mongo Beti (“You must read and reread Mongo Beti, a genius who used his fame to support often just causes in Africa, like defending oppressed groups. His place is already in History. His oppressors, like the dictators Ahmadou Ahidjo and Paul Biya, can’t compete in the same category” p.64), the Malian Amadou Hampâté Bâ
(“Posterity remembers him mainly as an tireless defender of African cultures. His plea for the collection and preservation of traditional African knowledge remains a major event for all men and women of good will. One day in 1960, at the UNESCO podium, the native of Bandiagara sounded the alarm: ‘[...] Since we’ve admitted that the humanity of each people is the heritage of all humanity, if African traditions aren’t collected in time and written down, they’ll one day be missing from the universal archives of humanity.’” p.51),
Kwame Nkrumah, “one of the founders of Pan-Africanism, father of Ghana’s independence” (p.239), as well as the historian Cheikh Anta Diop, the writer, poet, and politician Aimé Césaire, and the economist and thinker Samir Amin, but also very warm tributes to certain contemporary African intellectuals like Souleymane Bachir Diagne and Achille Mbembe
(“A few years ago, in dominant economic circles, a rumor often resurfaced, usually disguised as a cold and scientifically proven analysis: Africa is useless. It’s a burden for the rest of the human community. With its 2% share in world trade, it would disappear from stock market radars without anyone noticing. So? Maybe it’ll be pulled up by other continents. Wanting to surpass itself is a crazy bet for Africans, they concluded. Arrogant or clueless, President Nicolas Sarkozy declared before an audience of students and teachers at Cheikh Anta Diop University in Dakar: ‘The African man hasn’t entered history enough [...] He only knows the eternal repetition of time marked by the endless repetition of the same gestures and words.’ That was in 2007. For decades, armed only with reason, an intellectual often steps up to debunk prejudices, lazy readings, and dishonest frameworks used as false fronts by those who, like Nicolas Sarkozy or former journalist Stephen Smith, out of ignorance, contempt, or condescension, distort African reality. This intellectual is none other than the historian and political scientist Achille Mbembe. This heir of Frantz Fanon, Amílcar Cabral, Jean-Marc Ela, and Fabien Eboussi-Boulaga was born in 1957 in Cameroon, in the Bassa region. Marked early by the upheavals of a fratricidal war, Achille Mbembe became the guardian of the memory of martyrs. After brilliant studies in Paris, he went on to teach at the best American universities, but the call of the Continent was stronger than anything else. In Dakar, he once directed CODESRIA (Council for the Development of Social Science Research in Africa) before joining the University of the Witwatersrand in Johannesburg, South Africa. Even though the author of *Critique of Black Reason* (Éditions La Découverte, 2015) spends a few months at Duke University in North Carolina, his observation post remains South Africa. From Johannesburg, Achille Mbembe scrutinizes Africa and the whole world. A lucid observer with an elegant and generous pen, Achille Mbembe knows how to blend big and small history: ‘I was born one day in July, as the month was drawing to a close. It was 1957, in that part of Africa recently named ‘Cameroon,’ a memory of the wonder that seized Portuguese sailors in the 15th century when, sailing up the river near Douala, they couldn’t help but note the presence of a multitude of crustaceans, and named it *Rio dos Camarões*, meaning ‘River of Shrimp.’ I grew up in the shadow of this nameless land, since, in a way, the name it bears is only the product of someone else’s astonishment: a lexical mistake, if you will.’ From this mistake or wound, he made leaven, a springboard to compose a rich work, recognized worldwide. To denounce barriers and barbarians too. But that’s not enough. Among his peers in circles of thought and action, Achille Mbembe passionately and consistently defends human dignity and the beauty of the world. In doing so, he fulfills the mission Frantz Fanon entrusted to him.” (p.227-229),
as well as entries dedicated to lesser-known artists and intellectuals, like the French journalist and activist Rokhaya Diallo, daughter of Senegalese and Gambian parents, or the Ethiopian filmmaker Haile Gerima, who has long lived in the United States. Other names from politics, sports, music, art, and literature: Kofi Annan, p.36; Barack Obama, p.243; Thomas Sankara, p.277; Ousmane Sow, p.285; Yambo Ouologuem, p.250; Léopold Sédar Senghor, p.282; Muhammad Ali, p.30; Nuruddin Farah, p.146; Salif Keita, p.203; Ahmadou Kourouma, p.206; Ngũgĩ wa Thiong’o, p.236; Winnie Mandela, p.224; Kylian Mbappé, p.226 ...
The authors, who resolutely commit to a “mythography” (p.11) of Africa, also pay special attention to local social movements, cultural events, and aspects of daily life. *Y’en a marre*, “which also meant ‘we’re fed up with sitting on our hands’” (p.320-321), emerged about a decade ago in Senegal as a citizen movement of peaceful resistance and symbolizes, the authors emphasize, the fact that African youth are increasingly fed up “with the political circus deployed in Africa since independence, as our parents would say, ‘since the White man left’...” (p.321). A full entry is dedicated to the Maggi bouillon cube, which has flooded African markets for about forty years and enjoys immense popularity (“It’s everywhere in Africa, from Dakar to Djibouti, and from Tangier to Cape Town. It’s in every pot, every stew. Little hands put it in every sauce, every local or adapted dish. An unchallenged hegemony! You’ll find it in diasporas too. The culinary strolls in Paris, in the [...] neighborhood” p.90). Critics blame it not only for impoverishing the aromatic diversity of local dishes but also for being harmful to health. And yet, “he poorest Africans, those who eat only once a day, a few spoonfuls of white beans and a ball of *foufou*, for example, are the most fervent users of the magic cube.” (p.92-93)
For *fonio*, “the new trendy cereal. [...] From the millet family, fonio is probably the oldest cereal cultivated in West Africa, and mainly in its sub-Saharan part, for millennia. [...] Easy to grow, water-efficient, fonio grows everywhere except on clay soils. Long neglected because it was considered the poor man’s crop, fonio is now a source of pride for the farmers who cultivate it and cherish it like the apple of their eye” (p.156-157), the authors immediately offer a detailed recipe, letting the reader know that “e can’t resist sharing this fonio with chicken recipe from Mali with you:
Ingredients: 1 chicken 3 large ripe red tomatoes 4 tbsp tomato paste 4 large onions 1 garlic clove 1/2 cup oil 2 Maggi cubes or salt 2 large carrots 1 turnip 1 large cabbage 2 large potatoes 1 celery stalk 1 packet pre-cooked fonio 4 okra (or okra powder) salt, pepper
Preparation: 1. Prepare the sauce: wash and cut the chicken. Peel the onions, garlic, and vegetables. 2. In a pot, fry the chicken pieces. 3. Dice the onions, tomatoes, carrots, and turnip very small and add them to the pot. 4. Add the tomato paste, salt, and pepper. 5. Simmer for 15 min, then add 2 L of water and the cooked chicken pieces. 6. Simmer for 30 min, then add the crushed garlic and celery, plus the cabbage cut into 4 and the potatoes cut in half. 7. Prepare the fonio: cover it with warm water, let it rest for 15 min, and cook it over low heat. 8. In a small pot, boil the okra and crush them. 9. Mix the crushed okra with the cooked fonio, then salt. Serve hot.” (p.158-159)
The comedy *Black Mic Mac*, released in French theaters in 1986 and addressing France’s increasingly restrictive immigration policy at the time, also gets an entry, as do *Tintin in the Congo*, the popular comic, and *Jip’s Café* (“[...] a little Africa in the heart of Paris, with passersby stopping to admire the ‘ambianceurs’ on the dance floor or attend the cultural events offered by the place” (p.194), an African establishment in Paris that Alain Mabanckou already immortalized in one of his novels.
The duo of authors also tackles thorny subjects like jihadism (p.119), the Rwandan genocide (p.272), the CFA franc (p.82), and dictatorship (p.110). While the two strike the right tone here, many entries leave a slightly bitter taste. Two examples: why doesn’t the text on Barack Obama mention the great disappointment of many people in Africa, who expected more from the African policy of the first U.S. president with African roots than just occasional warm words? Why do the comments on Winnie Mandela gloss over the fact that she was a highly controversial icon of the anti-apartheid movement due to her involvement in kidnappings, acts of torture, and murders of alleged apartheid collaborators? Instead, there’s a compassion that brings tears to the eyes: “She was often reduced to a secondary role, the wife of a great man” or “When victory came, she didn’t taste its fruits. Divorced, isolated. She would never be a ‘first lady’ in an evening gown, posing before a bed of chrysanthemums. They’d keep her far from the circles of power” (p.224-225). At this point, I would’ve liked the authors to take a slightly more critical stance...
That said, these “weaknesses” (if you can call them that) shouldn’t overshadow the book as a whole. It remains an informative, sometimes very entertaining, and often even original work in its own way.
Book information (the original French and the German translation):
Alain Mabanckou/Abdourahman Waberi. Dictionnaire enjoué des cultures africaines. Fayard, 2019. Alain Mabanckou/Abdourahman Waberi. Der Puls Afrikas. Eine Liebeserklärung von A bis Z. Reclam, 2022.
Hery

Hi,
We’re going on a guided trip to South Africa. I’d love to know which guidebook is the most interesting: Routard, Lonely Planet, Michelin, Guide Vert, or Hachette’s Guide Voir.
Thanks so much for your advice. Marie
Hi, I'm looking for a good (digital) wildlife and bird guide for South Africa.
I'm planning a 2-month road trip through the parks and tourist spots.
I'm torn between *Duncan Butcher’s Wildlife of South Africa*, *Wildlife of Southern Africa Collins Traveller Guide*, and *Newman’s Birds Guide* for birds. Any other suggestions?! It can be in English, French, or Spanish! Thanks
I'm torn between *Duncan Butcher’s Wildlife of South Africa*, *Wildlife of Southern Africa Collins Traveller Guide*, and *Newman’s Birds Guide* for birds. Any other suggestions?! It can be in English, French, or Spanish! Thanks
Hi there,
I’m looking to watch films and series with my Thai girlfriend :-) I was wondering if you know of any sites where we can watch films or series in Thai or French with Thai or French subtitles ^^ We sometimes watch in English with English or Thai subtitles, but it’s quite hard for me ^^ I have to concentrate, and it’s not really enjoyable.
Thanks :-)
I’m looking to watch films and series with my Thai girlfriend :-) I was wondering if you know of any sites where we can watch films or series in Thai or French with Thai or French subtitles ^^ We sometimes watch in English with English or Thai subtitles, but it’s quite hard for me ^^ I have to concentrate, and it’s not really enjoyable.
Thanks :-)
Hi there,
Nice feature on the haenyeo and the gorgeous Jeju ❤️
South Korea: The Island of Women Divers | TF1 Info
Nice feature on the haenyeo and the gorgeous Jeju ❤️
South Korea: The Island of Women Divers | TF1 Info
Hi there,
I have a few GEO and Grands Reportages magazines in very good condition to give away. They date from 2006 to 2011.
If you're interested, please DM me.
I have a few GEO and Grands Reportages magazines in very good condition to give away. They date from 2006 to 2011.
If you're interested, please DM me.
Hi,
Could someone recommend a good book to help me recognize the animals I’ll come across in Namibia???
Thanks in advance! Tit&Lou
Departure planned for September 16, 2008!!
Could someone recommend a good book to help me recognize the animals I’ll come across in Namibia???
Thanks in advance! Tit&Lou
Departure planned for September 16, 2008!!
Hi,
I just finished reading Lettres de Barcelone by Caroline Leblanc. It's a collection of letters without a recipient that the author wrote during her 3 years of expatriation in Barcelona. So it's an inside look at the city, off the beaten path, even though the major tourist spots are also part of the scenery.
It's full of humor, very open to current events, the history of the city, Catalonia, and Spain. I really enjoyed it. 🙂
Hi there, I traveled to the Sultanate of Oman last January and had the book *Oman Off Road* in digital format in English, plus a second version in French. For anyone planning their trip, if this book interests you, don’t hesitate to reach out—it’s a real bible for off-the-beaten-path travel. Here’s my email for direct contact:
xavierpous@orange.fr
Or through Voyage Forum, which we’re always happy to use.
Take a step back, forget your bearings, and momentarily set aside the boxes we use to categorize life: humans on one side, animals on the other. Immerse yourself in that unsettling zone where man, stripped of his humanity, and the beast—capable of emotions and sensitivity—stand face to face.
Who is the predator, who is the prey? Where do fear, barbarism, or extreme violence lie, and where do compassion and philosophy reside?
In this book steeped in anthropomorphism, Stéphanie Artarit weaves a cruel plot and pushes the boundaries of darkness without ever wallowing in the grim or sordid.
A story of love and vengeance, of fierce beasts and humans, where the abominable, the unbearable, and the unthinkable are pierced by the candor and fragile luminosity of the heroine, Bambi, around whom (very) dark passions rage.
The action takes place in the Pyrenees in the mid-1970s. A dilapidated, isolated house, the theater of the unthinkable, where a shattered family ignored by social services lives—or survives: a missing father, a helpless mother, two degenerate twins, Sam and Valerien, a violent older brother, Martin, an absolute bastard, a dog... and a young adolescent, Bambi, the precarious pillar of this teetering balance. To escape this hopeless daily life, she regularly finds refuge in a nearby zoo. Caught during yet another sneaky visit, she is taken to the owner of the place, Noel Rivière, who, moved by her misery (and her ethereal, unreal beauty...), hires her as an apprentice.
This could have been the start of a fairy tale, redemption through love, the bastard permanently neutralized... and a breather for the reader.
But no.
The zoo serves as the backdrop for the second part of the story, which introduces new characters... a little girl, Feline, and a chimpanzee, Adam, placed in an isolated enclosure upon arrival because he was aggressive and unable to live among his own kind.
Humans with primitive animality, animals with astonishing humanity... a deranged, fierce, and heartbreaking Jungle Book. A noir novel with fluid, poetic writing.
A breathless read, almost devoured in one go (in two sittings) because it’s impossible to catch your breath before finding out how far the author will push the limits and what fate she has in store for her characters...
You Don’t Eat Cannibals Stéphanie ARTARIT Belfond Noir
In this book steeped in anthropomorphism, Stéphanie Artarit weaves a cruel plot and pushes the boundaries of darkness without ever wallowing in the grim or sordid.
A story of love and vengeance, of fierce beasts and humans, where the abominable, the unbearable, and the unthinkable are pierced by the candor and fragile luminosity of the heroine, Bambi, around whom (very) dark passions rage.
The action takes place in the Pyrenees in the mid-1970s. A dilapidated, isolated house, the theater of the unthinkable, where a shattered family ignored by social services lives—or survives: a missing father, a helpless mother, two degenerate twins, Sam and Valerien, a violent older brother, Martin, an absolute bastard, a dog... and a young adolescent, Bambi, the precarious pillar of this teetering balance. To escape this hopeless daily life, she regularly finds refuge in a nearby zoo. Caught during yet another sneaky visit, she is taken to the owner of the place, Noel Rivière, who, moved by her misery (and her ethereal, unreal beauty...), hires her as an apprentice.
This could have been the start of a fairy tale, redemption through love, the bastard permanently neutralized... and a breather for the reader.
But no.
The zoo serves as the backdrop for the second part of the story, which introduces new characters... a little girl, Feline, and a chimpanzee, Adam, placed in an isolated enclosure upon arrival because he was aggressive and unable to live among his own kind.
Humans with primitive animality, animals with astonishing humanity... a deranged, fierce, and heartbreaking Jungle Book. A noir novel with fluid, poetic writing.
A breathless read, almost devoured in one go (in two sittings) because it’s impossible to catch your breath before finding out how far the author will push the limits and what fate she has in store for her characters...
You Don’t Eat Cannibals Stéphanie ARTARIT Belfond Noir
Hi there,
Planning a trip to AOTEAROA in Feb 2026, I’m starting to gather info.
After several attempts searching in local bookshops and online, it seems this guide is no longer published—meaning it’s impossible to find a new French copy.
You can find used ones online, but only in English...
Lonely Planet has released a new "version" of their New Zealand guide, but it’s not really a "Guide" anymore—it’s called "Best Itineraries."
So, my question: Does anyone have a French-language Lonely Planet New Zealand guide from a not-too-old edition? For sale second-hand?
Or
Any recommendations for another guidebook-style book from a different publisher?
Thanks in advance!
Claude
So, my question: Does anyone have a French-language Lonely Planet New Zealand guide from a not-too-old edition? For sale second-hand?
Or
Any recommendations for another guidebook-style book from a different publisher?
Thanks in advance!
Claude
Mountain chronicle from the Hautes Vosges radio station. The last broadcast before summer. It won’t be about long-distance hiking or alpine feats, but rather an equally astonishing adventure that involved thousands of airmen supplying China as it fought against Japan during World War II: the air bridge over the Himalayas.
https://www.resonance-fm.com/podcast/2706%20chronique%20montagne%20The%20Hump%20la%20liaison%20a%C3%A9rienne%20Inde%20Chine%20au%20dessus%20de%20l'Himalaya%20.MP3
https://www.resonance-fm.com/podcast/2706%20chronique%20montagne%20The%20Hump%20la%20liaison%20a%C3%A9rienne%20Inde%20Chine%20au%20dessus%20de%20l'Himalaya%20.MP3
It seems like it's hard to find the book *Compagnon de Safari*, which is a guide to the wildlife of Namibia and Botswana.
Actually, you can order it directly from the author, Caroline Oriol.
http://guide-faune.voyage-namibie.fr/
It’s quick—you’ll get it by mail in 2 days! !
It’s quick—you’ll get it by mail in 2 days! !
Hi there,
As a follow-up to the exhibition "Royal Bronzes of Angkor" organized by the Guimet Museum (Paris), France 5 is airing a documentary called "Angkor, The Mystery of the Bronze Temples."
You can already watch it on replay.
https://www.france.tv/documentaires/documentaires-science/7241768-angkor-le-mystere-des-temples-de-bronze.html
All you need to do is create an account. It’s free and no commitment required.


Sometimes a trip, a desire to travel, a travel dream... begins between the pages of a book.
These three invite you to Scotland, on the Isle of Lewis. And although they’re published by Babel Noir, Actes Sud’s collection dedicated to crime novels with a dark atmosphere, and even though each book features a crime to solve, these three stories go far beyond the genre.
The central character, Fin, a man who wasn’t gifted with lightness or whimsy at birth, used to be a cop. He isn’t anymore, having left the police after a personal tragedy... A crime with a modus operandi similar to a case he was handling brings him back to Lewis... He’ll stay there. Because the time seems right for him to retrace the steps of his own story... a story deeply rooted in this land of melancholic geography, this island battered and rebattered by the winds, frozen in the past, where beliefs and traditions endure, defying time.
This austere island where his tender years were bruised. This harsh land that closes in on the dead... and returns them to the living years later, when the time seems right for them to put their childhood to rest, by facing the figures and ghosts that once crossed it.
Past and present intertwine, the memories of one explaining and perhaps unraveling the shadows of the other... and it’s only by confronting the darkness that he’ll find a strength he didn’t know he had, one that may—likely will—help him overcome the unspeakable.
In each book, Peter May, like a historian and anthropologist rolled into one, explores a page of the past, highlighting some of Scotland’s darker chapters: the omnipresence of religion, the conflict between Protestants and Catholics, the rituals marking the passage into adulthood, the terrible fate of orphans... the shadowy corners of the human soul.
A poetic, dense, and minimalist writing style that cuts to the essence, with just the right words to describe childhood, solitude, second chances—those who offer them and those who seize them—the weight of things... and happiness sometimes so close yet not always allowed to be grasped.
Three intense stories set in the same landscape: nature ever-present, the icy dampness, the slippery machair, the dry peat that fuels the fires... and Gaelic, that language with its harsh, guttural, rugged sounds?... which isn’t pronounced exactly as it’s written.
Peter May The Scottish Trilogy, Complete edition by Éditions du Rouergue Or In paperback, Actes Sud publisher, Babel Noir collection 1/ The Blackhouse 2/ The Lewis Man 3/ The Chessmen
The central character, Fin, a man who wasn’t gifted with lightness or whimsy at birth, used to be a cop. He isn’t anymore, having left the police after a personal tragedy... A crime with a modus operandi similar to a case he was handling brings him back to Lewis... He’ll stay there. Because the time seems right for him to retrace the steps of his own story... a story deeply rooted in this land of melancholic geography, this island battered and rebattered by the winds, frozen in the past, where beliefs and traditions endure, defying time.
This austere island where his tender years were bruised. This harsh land that closes in on the dead... and returns them to the living years later, when the time seems right for them to put their childhood to rest, by facing the figures and ghosts that once crossed it.
Past and present intertwine, the memories of one explaining and perhaps unraveling the shadows of the other... and it’s only by confronting the darkness that he’ll find a strength he didn’t know he had, one that may—likely will—help him overcome the unspeakable.
In each book, Peter May, like a historian and anthropologist rolled into one, explores a page of the past, highlighting some of Scotland’s darker chapters: the omnipresence of religion, the conflict between Protestants and Catholics, the rituals marking the passage into adulthood, the terrible fate of orphans... the shadowy corners of the human soul.
A poetic, dense, and minimalist writing style that cuts to the essence, with just the right words to describe childhood, solitude, second chances—those who offer them and those who seize them—the weight of things... and happiness sometimes so close yet not always allowed to be grasped.
Three intense stories set in the same landscape: nature ever-present, the icy dampness, the slippery machair, the dry peat that fuels the fires... and Gaelic, that language with its harsh, guttural, rugged sounds?... which isn’t pronounced exactly as it’s written.
Peter May The Scottish Trilogy, Complete edition by Éditions du Rouergue Or In paperback, Actes Sud publisher, Babel Noir collection 1/ The Blackhouse 2/ The Lewis Man 3/ The Chessmen
Tonight on Channel 5
Échappées belles in SENEGAL
https://television.telerama.fr/tele/magazine/echappees-belles,6640,emission162356169.php
https://television.telerama.fr/tele/magazine/echappees-belles,6640,emission162356169.php
Hi there,
I’m looking for links to the five episodes of the excellent 2014 France Culture podcast series called Pages from Nicolas Bouvier’s *The Way to the Orient*.
The episodes are: 1) Belgrade, 2) Tehran, 3) Afghanistan, 4) Ceylon, 5) Japan.
Unfortunately, they’re no longer available on France Culture.
Here’s the (expired) link to episode 1: https://www.radiofrance.fr/franceculture/podcasts/fictions-le-feuilleton/belgrade-9795251.
Maybe someone on this forum has downloaded these episodes or shared them on other platforms—like a blog, social media, or elsewhere.
Thanks so much in advance for any help!
Aude
For the kids and/or for us, do you have any good book recommendations for identifying and learning about the animals of Namibia (or Southern Africa)?
Hello to all travel lovers!
I'm leaving for several weeks to accompany groups in Namibia (I'm over the moon). It's a country I know because I've already spent three months there.
I'll be talking about culture, geography, history... but I'd also like to see my "clients" touched by the wildlife, maybe more specifically the birds. Unfortunately, I'm a lousy ornithologist.
:-p
So, if you could recommend a book on the world of birds we're about to see, that would be... awesome!
For those who are on the same journey as me and to avoid duplicates, here are the ones I've found (but haven't bought yet):
- *Compagnon de safari* by Oriol (2003) ??
- *Les oiseaux de l'ouest africain* by Serle and Morel (2005) ??
- *Guide des mammifères d'Afrique* by Kingdom (2013) ?? (No, birds aren't mammals!!)
- And then... that's not much 😕
Haven't found anything specific to Namibia.
So there you go, thank you all, and I wish you a very happy journey too!
I rarely post on the forum, but I've talked (well... written) a lot. Thanks for your attention! :-)
Nathaniel. (For those interested, I could share the link to photos from my previous trips.)
Beace!
I rarely post on the forum, but I've talked (well... written) a lot. Thanks for your attention! :-)
Nathaniel. (For those interested, I could share the link to photos from my previous trips.)
Beace!
In this charming open-air library, I came across a novel by Perumal Murugan, a Tamil writer and professor of Tamil literature, sometimes controversial because he’s accused of advocating too strongly for women’s rights.
It’s a harsh novel about love and caste. The love between Kumaresan and Saroja in today’s rural India.
The title: *The Pyre*(A belated tribute on this forum)
Abdulrazak Gurnah, an author with a unique journey and identity (Tanzania)
Big surprise in Stockholm: the 2021 Nobel Prize in Literature was awarded to novelist Abdulrazak Gurnah. The Tanzanian author, who writes in English, is best known for his novels Paradise (1994) and By the Sea (2001). He was recognized for his "uncompromising and compassionate portrayal of the effects of colonialism and the fate of refugees caught between cultures and continents", according to the Nobel Committee.His work moves away from "stereotypical descriptions and opens our eyes to a culturally diverse East Africa that is little known in many parts of the world".
Gurnah is the first African author since 2003 to win the prestigious prize, and the fifth from the African continent overall—following Wole Soyinka (1986), Naguib Mahfouz (1988), Nadine Gordimer (1991), and J.M. Coetzee (2003). Once again, the prize passed over Kenyan Ngugi wa Thiong’o, who has long been among the favorites for the award.
Born in Zanzibar (now part of Tanzania) in 1948, Abdulrazak Gurnah grew up in an Arab family originally from Yemen. He sought refuge in the UK in the late 1960s, a few years after independence, at a time when the Muslim minority there was being persecuted. He wasn’t able to return to Zanzibar until 1984.
Since 1987, he has published around ten novels and several short stories in English (his native language is Swahili). None have become bestsellers, but his body of work as a whole offers a different perspective on issues like immigration and cultural diversity. His work sheds light on the effects of colonialism, exile, and the plight of refugees, "speaking" of his love for Africa and his fight against neocolonialism. Though Gurnah’s stories aren’t explicitly autobiographical, they’re inspired by his life as an immigrant in the UK.
Gurnah was also a professor of English and postcolonial literature at the University of Kent in Canterbury until his recent retirement.
Does this award bring more attention to African literature? Who knows? At the very least, it might give it a boost. If African literature is less visible in the West, it’s partly because it isn’t widely accessible: Gurnah is rarely translated into French or German, and not at all into Arabic.
In Tanzania and its Zanzibar archipelago, he’s being celebrated with joy. "This means a lot for Zanzibar’s struggle for self-determination," says Ismail Jussa, a literary critic from Zanzibar. "It helps put Zanzibar back on the map." The Swedish Committee acknowledged that his work has helped understand "the divisions caused by colonialists, but also the heartbreak of being torn between the homeland one comes from and the life of exile one is forced into."
By the Sea. Bloomsbury Publishing, 2001 (Fr.: Près de la Mer. Galaade Éd., 2006)
Paradise. Bloomsbury Publishing, 1994/2004 (Fr.: Paradis. Motifs, 1999)
Desertion. Bloomsbury Publishing, 2005 (Fr.: Adieu Zanzibar. Galaade Éd., 2009)
Afterlives. Bloomsbury Publishing, 2020 (Fr.: Les vies d’après. Denoël, 2023)
Hery
Abdulrazak Gurnah, an author with a unique journey and identity (Tanzania)
Big surprise in Stockholm: the 2021 Nobel Prize in Literature was awarded to novelist Abdulrazak Gurnah. The Tanzanian author, who writes in English, is best known for his novels Paradise (1994) and By the Sea (2001). He was recognized for his "uncompromising and compassionate portrayal of the effects of colonialism and the fate of refugees caught between cultures and continents", according to the Nobel Committee.His work moves away from "stereotypical descriptions and opens our eyes to a culturally diverse East Africa that is little known in many parts of the world".
Gurnah is the first African author since 2003 to win the prestigious prize, and the fifth from the African continent overall—following Wole Soyinka (1986), Naguib Mahfouz (1988), Nadine Gordimer (1991), and J.M. Coetzee (2003). Once again, the prize passed over Kenyan Ngugi wa Thiong’o, who has long been among the favorites for the award.
Born in Zanzibar (now part of Tanzania) in 1948, Abdulrazak Gurnah grew up in an Arab family originally from Yemen. He sought refuge in the UK in the late 1960s, a few years after independence, at a time when the Muslim minority there was being persecuted. He wasn’t able to return to Zanzibar until 1984.
Since 1987, he has published around ten novels and several short stories in English (his native language is Swahili). None have become bestsellers, but his body of work as a whole offers a different perspective on issues like immigration and cultural diversity. His work sheds light on the effects of colonialism, exile, and the plight of refugees, "speaking" of his love for Africa and his fight against neocolonialism. Though Gurnah’s stories aren’t explicitly autobiographical, they’re inspired by his life as an immigrant in the UK.
Gurnah was also a professor of English and postcolonial literature at the University of Kent in Canterbury until his recent retirement.
Does this award bring more attention to African literature? Who knows? At the very least, it might give it a boost. If African literature is less visible in the West, it’s partly because it isn’t widely accessible: Gurnah is rarely translated into French or German, and not at all into Arabic.
In Tanzania and its Zanzibar archipelago, he’s being celebrated with joy. "This means a lot for Zanzibar’s struggle for self-determination," says Ismail Jussa, a literary critic from Zanzibar. "It helps put Zanzibar back on the map." The Swedish Committee acknowledged that his work has helped understand "the divisions caused by colonialists, but also the heartbreak of being torn between the homeland one comes from and the life of exile one is forced into."
By the Sea. Bloomsbury Publishing, 2001 (Fr.: Près de la Mer. Galaade Éd., 2006)
Paradise. Bloomsbury Publishing, 1994/2004 (Fr.: Paradis. Motifs, 1999)
Desertion. Bloomsbury Publishing, 2005 (Fr.: Adieu Zanzibar. Galaade Éd., 2009)
Afterlives. Bloomsbury Publishing, 2020 (Fr.: Les vies d’après. Denoël, 2023)
Hery
I just read this introduction
https://www.isabelleetlevelo.fr/2024/11/27/les-archives-de-lucien-peraire-enfin-prises-en-charge/
Then I went to the site created by La Maison des Sciences de l’Homme.
https://peraire.huma-num.fr/
It’s a scholarly site, an inventory of all the documents from his journey.
I read the presentation of his travel journals.
https://peraire.huma-num.fr/introduction.php
I was immediately won over by the man and the excerpts from his travel journals. What he writes feels like documentation of the peoples and societies he encountered, along with reflections that lead to broader thoughts on our humanity.
It really whets the appetite. Unfortunately, Éditions Garnier gave up on publishing his account. Péraire self-published it under the title *À travers le monde à vélo et en espéranto*, but it seems impossible to find.
The French journals are readable on the site, but they’re facsimiles. They’re handwritten and in an uncomfortable format—PDF. Plus, the ink has faded in parts.
Happy travels
https://www.isabelleetlevelo.fr/2024/11/27/les-archives-de-lucien-peraire-enfin-prises-en-charge/
Then I went to the site created by La Maison des Sciences de l’Homme.
https://peraire.huma-num.fr/
It’s a scholarly site, an inventory of all the documents from his journey.
I read the presentation of his travel journals.
https://peraire.huma-num.fr/introduction.php
I was immediately won over by the man and the excerpts from his travel journals. What he writes feels like documentation of the peoples and societies he encountered, along with reflections that lead to broader thoughts on our humanity.
It really whets the appetite. Unfortunately, Éditions Garnier gave up on publishing his account. Péraire self-published it under the title *À travers le monde à vélo et en espéranto*, but it seems impossible to find.
The French journals are readable on the site, but they’re facsimiles. They’re handwritten and in an uncomfortable format—PDF. Plus, the ink has faded in parts.
Happy travels
Hello,
Some travel to the ends of the Earth to climb Everest, but I set off more modestly to take on a challenge just as beautiful and demanding: walking the entire coast of Brittany.
Four months on the land of my ancestors... Four months with my thoughts... Four months living an adventure that changed my life...
No mountain to climb, no extreme weather conditions—just following the ocean and putting one foot in front of the other for 2,100 km to connect Saint-Nazaire to Mont Saint-Michel along the Customs Officers' Path.
I’d never walked that many days in a row. No performance to achieve, no record to break—just a path I followed. More than a path, I’d say it was a journey. I let my steps carry me, gradually letting go of the plan I’d set for myself to truly embrace the moment. I lived one of the most beautiful experiences of my life. An unforgettable adventure filled with encounters, joy, tears, and powerful moments etched into my memory. How could I not be touched by the warmth of the Bretons who opened their doors—and above all, their hearts—to me?
I cried tears of happiness. It felt so good. I felt alive, present, connected to myself and to others. I celebrated life. Everything reminded me of the luck I had to be on Earth. Everything amazed me—from the sound of the waves to the songs of birds, the endless colors of the sea, and the wind rushing through the trees, not to mention all the little signs life sent my way. I loved all those "chances" (were they really just coincidences?), all those unexpected encounters. Yes, life is beautiful! This path reminded me of the luck I have to be alive and here on this Earth. When you wake up every day to the sound of nature, how can you not appreciate your existence?
Everyone walks for a reason, whether it’s the Camino de Santiago or the Customs Officers' Path—it’s first and foremost a personal journey. I wanted to experience long-distance walking to discover new things. I got my share of answers, but also new questions. I wrote in my travel journal every day to remember every moment, every sensation, every encounter, every thought.
Now, it’s time to share this adventure with as many people as possible through a book I’ve been working on for two years... Readers’ feedback has been unanimous: "It’s simply a brilliant book."
I truly hope it will inspire you and give you the desire to pursue your own dreams too.
The book is available in bookstores, on Amazon, and on my website GR34 Aventure if you’d like a signed copy.
Thank you
Some travel to the ends of the Earth to climb Everest, but I set off more modestly to take on a challenge just as beautiful and demanding: walking the entire coast of Brittany.
Four months on the land of my ancestors... Four months with my thoughts... Four months living an adventure that changed my life...
No mountain to climb, no extreme weather conditions—just following the ocean and putting one foot in front of the other for 2,100 km to connect Saint-Nazaire to Mont Saint-Michel along the Customs Officers' Path.
I’d never walked that many days in a row. No performance to achieve, no record to break—just a path I followed. More than a path, I’d say it was a journey. I let my steps carry me, gradually letting go of the plan I’d set for myself to truly embrace the moment. I lived one of the most beautiful experiences of my life. An unforgettable adventure filled with encounters, joy, tears, and powerful moments etched into my memory. How could I not be touched by the warmth of the Bretons who opened their doors—and above all, their hearts—to me?
I cried tears of happiness. It felt so good. I felt alive, present, connected to myself and to others. I celebrated life. Everything reminded me of the luck I had to be on Earth. Everything amazed me—from the sound of the waves to the songs of birds, the endless colors of the sea, and the wind rushing through the trees, not to mention all the little signs life sent my way. I loved all those "chances" (were they really just coincidences?), all those unexpected encounters. Yes, life is beautiful! This path reminded me of the luck I have to be alive and here on this Earth. When you wake up every day to the sound of nature, how can you not appreciate your existence?
Everyone walks for a reason, whether it’s the Camino de Santiago or the Customs Officers' Path—it’s first and foremost a personal journey. I wanted to experience long-distance walking to discover new things. I got my share of answers, but also new questions. I wrote in my travel journal every day to remember every moment, every sensation, every encounter, every thought.
Now, it’s time to share this adventure with as many people as possible through a book I’ve been working on for two years... Readers’ feedback has been unanimous: "It’s simply a brilliant book."
I truly hope it will inspire you and give you the desire to pursue your own dreams too.
The book is available in bookstores, on Amazon, and on my website GR34 Aventure if you’d like a signed copy.
Thank you
I just came across an incredible magazine: America. Nearly 200 pages per issue. This quarterly, which will only be published during Trump’s presidency, gives a voice to the greatest French and American writers to try to understand America in the age of Donald Trump through reports, investigations, major interviews, and columns.
Issue 5 (america.aboshop.fr/...n/product-article/11) is entirely dedicated to what we all love here and is titled "What Remains of Wild America?" It covers wide-open spaces, nature, national parks, and shows how Trump has launched a systematic demolition of America’s environmental legacy. I’m thinking of buying the whole collection because this magazine is truly extraordinary.
Issue 5 (america.aboshop.fr/...n/product-article/11) is entirely dedicated to what we all love here and is titled "What Remains of Wild America?" It covers wide-open spaces, nature, national parks, and shows how Trump has launched a systematic demolition of America’s environmental legacy. I’m thinking of buying the whole collection because this magazine is truly extraordinary.
Hello everyone. Colombia is a country that has been plagued by clichés for decades—often unflattering ones—that, of course, don’t reflect (or only in a very caricatured way) the realities. Having lived in Cali for eight years, where I worked, I discovered a land full of life, colors, and diversity. If you're planning to explore this country that gave birth to the myth of El Dorado (which, by the way, is the name of Bogotá’s airport), you can certainly pick up the various guides published about it. For my part, I’d like to recommend one of the rare "beautiful books" (photos and text) dedicated to this country. It’s just been released by Géorama and is titled *Colombia, Magia de la Vida*. Click here to learn more by browsing the official site. I’m the author, and I’m happy to answer any questions or comments about Colombia or this book. Thanks, and happy travels!
A fascinating documentary about a Khmer treasure discovered in the Savannakhet region. The documentary places this discovery within the cultural environment of the Khmer era, from Wat Phu (Champassak - Laos) to Angkor (Cambodia).
https://www.arte.tv/fr/videos/116856-000-A/laos-le-tresor-oublie-de-la-civilisation-khmere/
Bonjour à tous,
Je compte voyager en Grande-Bretagne (quand cette crise sera finie) et voudrais savoir quels livres vous me conseilleriez pour la découvrir en termes d'histoire, de culture, de politique, etc. ; et je recherche des œuvres littéraires comme des romans, des récits de voyages ou des essais, pas pas des guides de voyages.
Merci,
Caro
Je compte voyager en Grande-Bretagne (quand cette crise sera finie) et voudrais savoir quels livres vous me conseilleriez pour la découvrir en termes d'histoire, de culture, de politique, etc. ; et je recherche des œuvres littéraires comme des romans, des récits de voyages ou des essais, pas pas des guides de voyages.
Merci,
Caro






