L’heure bleue

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L’heure bleue

Stopping in for a visit here.
What a marvelous night it is, summer thriving!
It’s the end of what the French call « l’heure bleue, » that curious hour between sunset and the dark spread of night. So luscious! I say I’d like to have it this way all the time, but then of course if I had it this way all the time I’d want it another way…
A wonderful read in The New Yorker, entitled, « Silence, Punning, Exile, » subtitle something like « The Puns and Detritus in James Joyce. » And here’s a quote:
« A pun is a verbal coincidence: a word that just happens to sound like another word. In this respect, the whole of “Ulysses” (“Oolissays” is how Joyce pronounced it) is a kind of pun. It’s a story about people and events on a day in Dublin that, when told in a certain way, “sounds like” Homer’s Odyssey. »
All of life is a pun!
Article worth checking out, even if Joyce isn’t really your thing: http://www.newyorker.com/arts/critics/atlarge/2012/07/02/120702crat_atlarge_menand
And in the meantime, have a look at the sky, by day or night, and the trees, the ground below your feet, the person across from you in the bus or metro, the lady selling bread…

By | 2017-04-04T06:58:15+00:00 juillet 4th, 2012|Textes|5 Comments

About the Author:

Enseignante Zen et poète, Sensei Amy “Tu es cela” Hollowell est née et a grandi à Minneapolis, aux Etats-Unis. Arrivée en France en 1981 pour étudier la littérature et l’histoire, elle y est restée, s’installant à Paris, où elle élève ses deux enfants et gagne sa vie en tant que journaliste. The Zen teacher and poet Amy “Tu es cela” Hollowell Sensei was born and raised in Minneapolis, but came to France in 1981 to study literature and history and has lived in Paris ever since, raising her two children and making a living as a journalist.

5 Comments

  1. wilde primula 8 juillet 2012 at 21 h 58 min - Reply

    to do with eachother

  2. wilde primula 8 juillet 2012 at 21 h 56 min - Reply

    yesterday i had to do some shopping at a very busy and fancy street in Brussels.
    soo many people on their way on a saturday afternoon –
    i passed a church – and went in – running away from "too much"
    there was hanging a cross high above the altar with Christ on it
    it flashed through my head : " He was taking the suffering upon him "
    that was what had been said so many times , so many years when i was a child – and i had never understand

    and here i was – searching for the right shoes – with which i could feel the earth under my feet – to learn to stand straight and strong and courrageous – to learn to face whatever comes –

    you see life is ununderstandable: no one would believe the right shoes – a fancy shoppingstreet -and christ "taking all the suffering upon him " can have everything

  3. white cloud 8 juillet 2012 at 21 h 31 min - Reply

    seems it was not easy for Joyce
    it wasn’t for giacometti either
    but they stayed close to themselves? Doing what had to be done?

  4. little lake 5 juillet 2012 at 14 h 31 min - Reply

    what could be "more" of something – or more essential? More radical? More "there"? –
    – if only i didn’t want something else …
    – but then why i want something else – can be interesting to –
    pointing me things… that could be important…

  5. little lake 5 juillet 2012 at 14 h 31 min - Reply

    what could be "more" of something – or more essential? More radical? More "there"? –
    – if only i didn’t want something else …
    – but then why i want something else – can be interesting to –
    pointing me things… that could be important…

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