Apospasmata Thread

Oscar Wilde - The importance of being Earnest

LADY BRACKNELL. It is very strange. This Mr. Bunbury seems to suffer from curiously bad health.

ALGERNON. Yes; poor Bunbury is a dreadful invalid.

LADY BRACKNELL. Well, I must say, Algernon, that I think it is high time that Mr. Bunbury made up his mind whether he was going to live or to die. This shilly-shallying with the question is absurd. Nor do I in any way approve of the modern sympathy with invalids. I consider it morbid. Illness of any kind is hardly a thing to be encouraged in others. Health is the primary duty of life. I am always telling that to your poor uncle, but he never seems to take much notice . . . as far as any improvement in his ailment goes. I should be much obliged if you would ask Mr. Bunbury, from me, to be kind enough not to have a relapse on Saturday, for I rely on you to arrange my music for me. It is my last reception, and one wants something that will encourage conversation, particularly at the end of the season when every one has practically said whatever they had to say, which, in most cases, was probably not much.

--

ALGERNON. What shall we do after dinner? Go to a theatre?
JACK. Oh no! I loathe listening.
ALGERNON. Well, let us go to the Club?
JACK. Oh, no! I hate talking.
ALGERNON. Well, we might trot round to the Empire at ten?
JACK. Oh, no! I can't bear looking at things. It is so silly.
ALGERNON. Well, what shall we do?
JACK. Nothing!
ALGERNON. It is awfully hard work doing nothing. However, I don't mind hard work where there is no definite object of any kind.

--

CECILY. Oh, I merely came back to water the roses. I thought you were with Uncle Jack.
ALGERNON. He's gone to order the dog-cart for me.
CECILY. Oh, is he going to take you for a nice drive?
ALGERNON. He's going to send me away.
CECILY. Then have we got to part?
ALGERNON. I am afraid so. It's a very painful parting.
CECILY. It is always painful to part from people whom one has known for a very brief space of time. The absence of old friends one can endure with equanimity. But even a momentary separation from anyone to whom one has just been introduced is almost unbearable.
ALGERNON. Thank you.

--

JACK. How can you sit there, calmly eating muffins when we are in this horrible trouble, I can't make out. You seem to me to be perfectly heartless.
ALGERNON. Well, I can't eat muffins in an agitated manner. The butter would probably get on my cuffs. One should always eat muffins quite calmly. It is the only way to eat them.
JACK. I say it's perfectly heartless your eating muffins at all, under the circumstances.
ALGERNON. When I am in trouble, eating is the only thing that consoles me. Indeed, when I am in really great trouble, as any one who knows me intimately will tell you, I refuse everything except food and drink. At the present moment I am eating muffins because I am unhappy. Besides, I am particularly fond of muffins.

--

CECILY. Mr. Moncrieff, kindly answer me the following question. Why did you pretend to be my guardian's brother?
ALGERNON. In order that I might have an opportunity of meeting you.
CECILY. [To GWENDOLEN.] That certainly seems a satisfactory explanation, does it not?
GWENDOLEN. Yes, dear, if you can believe him.
CECILY. I don't. But that does not affect the wonderful beauty of his answer.
GWENDOLEN. True. In matters of grave importance, style, not sincerity is the vital thing.

“We shall finish you, romanticist world!” Mayakovsky threatens. That is right. One has to put an end to the romanticism of Oblomov and of Tolstoi’s Karataiev. But how? “He is old – kill him and make an ashtray of his skull.”

But this is the most real and most negative romanticism! Ashtrays made of skulls are inconvenient and unhygienic. And its savagery is after all ... meaningless? By making such an unnatural use of the skull bones, the poet becomes caught in romanticism; at any rate, he has not worked out his images, nor has he unified them. “Pocket the wealth of all the worlds!” In this familiar tone Mayakovsky speaks of Socialism. But to pocket means to put it into one’s pocket like a thief. Is this word suitable when the matter hinges on the collective expropriation of the land and the factories? It is strikingly unsuitable.

[..]

When Eichenvald, expressing the bourgeois attitude towards The Twelve, says openly and most maliciously, that the acts of Blok’s heroes are characteristic of the “comrades”, he fulfills the task he has set himself, namely, to slander the Revolution. A Red guard kills Katka, for jealousy. Is this possible, or is it impossible? It is entirely possible. But had such a Red guard been caught, he would have been sentenced to be shot by the Revolutionary Tribunal.

- Λεό Τρότσκι, Λογοτεχνία και Επανάσταση

Oscar Wilde - The Master

Quote:

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[...] And kneeling on the flint stones of the Valley of Desolation he saw a young man who was naked and weeping. His hair was the colour of honey, and his body was as a white flower, but he had wounded his body with thorns and on his hair had he set ashes as a crown.

And he who had great possessions said to the young man who was naked and weeping, 'I do not wonder that your sorrow is so great, for surely He was a just man.'

And the young man answered, 'It is not for Him that I am weeping, but for myself. I too have changed water into wine, and I have healed the leper and given sight to the blind. I have walked upon the waters, and from the dwellers in the tombs I have cast out devils. I have fed the hungry in the desert where there was no food, and I have raised the dead from their narrow houses, and at my bidding, and before a great multitude, of people, a barren fig- tree withered away. All things that this man has done I have done also. And yet they have not crucified me.

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"κι εγώ που τόσο επόθησα μια μέρα να ταφώ
σε κάποια θάλασσα βαθιά στις μακρινές Ινδίες
θά'χω ένα θάνατο κοινό και θλιβερό πολύ
και μια κηδεία σαν των πολλών ανθρώπων τις κηδείες"

Ξύπνησα με το μαρμάρινο τούτο κεφάλι στα χέρια
που μου εξαντλεί τους αγκώνες και δεν ξέρω που να
τ' ακουμπήσω.
Επεφτε στο όνειρο καθώς έβγαινα από το όνειρο
έτσι ενώθηκε η ζωή μας και Θα είναι πολύ δύσκολο να
ξαναχωρίσει.

"pote tou den eixe niwsei ton eauto tou toso frixta mono!"

egklima k timwria!!!!!!!!

ama allaksei kaneis i estw skeftei na allaksei ti leksi mono me alles post rock mpantes tha ksenerwsw e

pote tou den eixe niwsei ton eauto tou toso frixta decapitated!

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Originally Posted by tamagothi

Βλαδίμηρος Μαγιακόφσκης - Σύννεφο με παντελόνια
(σε δική μου μετάφραση.

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χα, τώρα το είδα αυτό.ταμαγκόθι είσαι πολύ σοβαρή χρήστρια.

επίσης το καλύτερο απόσπασμα βιβλίου είναι εκείνο που λέει, "Ο συνταγματάρχης Αουρελιάνο Μπουενδία ξεκίνησε 37 επαναστάσεις και τις έχασε όλες."

Δεν αντέχω.

Quote:

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Ο επισμηναγός Μέιτζορ γεννήθηκε έχοντας χρονική καθυστέρηση και μετριότητα. Μερικοί άνθρωποι γεννιούνται μέτριοι, ορισμένοι αποκτούν τη μετριότητα κι άλλοι ωθούνται στη μετριότητα. Στον επισμηναγό Μέιτζορ είχαν συμβεί και τα τρία. Ακόμα και ανάμεσα σε αδιάφορους ανθρώπους, διακρινόταν αναπόφευκτα ως ο πιο αδιάφορος κι όσοι τον συναντούσαν εντυπωσιάζονταν πάντα από το πόσο εντυπωσιακός δεν ήταν.

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xanetai h mish xara me th metafrash, eidika s ayto to vivlio

Το ξέρω =/

αλλά μέσα στη βδομάδα αρχίζω το "Closing Time" στην αγγλική!

Μίλτον πινκς.

Διαφωνώ για το catch 22. η μετάφραση εμενα μου φάνηκε πιο άμεση απο ότι το πρωτότυπο. δεν ξέρω απλα ήταν πιο πολύ κατανοητό σε μένα το ύφος του συγγραφέα στο ελλήνικο παρά στο πρωτότυπο.

Εγώ δεν μπορούσα ούτε καν να το παρακολουθήσω στα αγγλικά :( δεν έχω ιδέα γιατί.

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Originally Posted by Griffith

επίσης το καλύτερο απόσπασμα βιβλίου είναι εκείνο που λέει, "Ο συνταγματάρχης Αουρελιάνο Μπουενδία ξεκίνησε 37 επαναστάσεις και τις έχασε όλες."

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=)

Lawrence Ferlinghetti - The World Is a Beautiful Place

The world is a beautiful place
to be born into
if you don't mind happiness
not always being
so very much fun
if you don't mind a touch of hell
now and then
just when everything is fine
because even in heaven
they don't sing
all the time

The world is a beautiful place
to be born into
if you don't mind some people dying
all the time
or maybe only starving
some of the time
which isn't half bad
if it isn't you

Oh the world is a beautiful place
to be born into
if you don't much mind
a few dead minds
in the higher places
or a bomb or two
now and then
in your upturned faces
or such other improprieties
as our Name Brand society
is prey to
with its men of distinction
and its men of extinction
and its priests
and other patrolmen

and its various segregations
and congressional investigations
and other constipations
that our fool flesh
is heir to

Yes the world is the best place of all
for a lot of such things as
making the fun scene
and making the love scene
and making the sad scene
and singing low songs and having inspirations
and walking around
looking at everything
and smelling flowers
and goosing statues
and even thinking
and kissing people and
making babies and wearing pants
and waving hats and
dancing
and going swimming in rivers
on picnics
in the middle of the summer
and just generally
'living it up'
Yes
but then right in the middle of it
comes the smiling

mortician