(no subject)

I'm declaring an open thread for whingeing. It doesn't have to be justified. You don't need a reason to hurt. All you need is something that's making you miserable. If the misery will lighten by sharing it, this is your thread.

Why am I doing this?

Now that I've been properly diagnosed, lots of people are expecting me to be happy and are helping avert such a terrible situation by giving me bad news about this, that or the other. Some of these are big pieces of bad news (people who are in worse cases than I am, who I care for) and some are less bad (I can't seem to do anything right in the eyes of several people close to me; other people I care for who aren't speaking to me for reasons known only unto themselves because they won't tell me because they aren't speaking to me). And besides, I ache.

One thing I've discovered about difficult times is that when they ease up a bit, depression can creep in. It becomes impossible to put the smaller negatives in context. The easiest way to deal with them is to admit "Things aren't well yet - I need to whinge." And we all do need three minutes to moan about the small things of life that won't go right, or how we feel underappreciated, or how it's too hot or too cold.

It'll be a little while before I can properly move on health-wise. My eyes remind me of that, which is good. Apart from the funky right eye and small damages to the heart and kidneys, though, I missed the hullet - I was really relieved yesterday and the day before and celebrated it a little last night. Not this morning. This morning I am unhappy, incompetent and never get an even break.

I don't need explanations of why I'm downhearted today. I don't need comments on how I ought to be grateful for my good fortune and that I get all the luck. In fact, if you're envious of my great fortune in life then just skip this post. Human beings need time to wallow: it's how some of us get past things.

However, if your neighbour took your letters by mistake or your child won't go to school, if your big toe hurts or your infinitives are always split, then this is your post. No whinges judged*.

Once my whinges are out of my system I'll do some work and take all my medicine and remember that the miseries, too, will pass. I expect I'll get them on and off for a bit, though, so I'll try not to post on those days or at those times.

Right now though, I declare the Whingefest open!




* Except Foofi's. But I have offered her my wardrobe in recompense.

(no subject)

It's midday and I checked my mail. Thank you so much, shewhomust and kesalemma and bookgirlwa. Also someone mysterious (I have to pick a parcel up at the post office) and Michael Newth (more of Michael in a moment). How did you know I was going to get the miseries? In fact, bookgirlwa hit this morning's mood in one with a card that said "I'm out of bed and dressed - what more do you want?"

Unsurprisingly, I no longer have the miseries. I have more DVDs to keep them at bay and friends who rock.

Michael Newth didn't know about my last few weeks, so his parcel was entirely fortuitous. He does the best translations of chansons de geste of anyone. Way back when I was a specialist in chansons de geste, my then-supervisor waved a draft of one of Newth's translations past me and said "You're an Old French and chanson de geste person - what do you think?" (My then-supervisor was and is a Latinist.) I looked at it carefully.

No translation can ever be right to someone who prefers to read in the original language. Which is me. It's not pretension so much as not wanting as many layers between myself and the author's intentions. A really good translation, however, can communicate the feel of the text so that someone who doesn't know the literature, the language or even the era can start to understand it. Newth's work is like that. I would certainly recommend that anyone who loves the Middle Ages and can't read Old French should pick up something by Newth.

Anyhow, Michael sent me his new book, out of the blue. A few years ago we were talking about what he would work on next. I tried to gently push him to the vendetta epics, because they are so in need of modern readers. Maybe one day he'll do Gerbert de Mez.

This time he has tackled Fierabras and Floripas - which is in my mind La Destruction de Rome and Fierbras but he acknowledges that they're seen as two works, so that's cool. It's not my favourite bit of the Charlemagne/Louis stories, but it is rather good.

Michael has produced a really good working edition for undergraduates who don't have Old French, actually. It's a paperback from Italica Press (2010). Fun bedtime reading, too. Robotchicken during the day, Fierabras at night. This makes me happy.

I'm going to make myself a cuppa and ferret out my manuscript notes for Fierabras and see what Michael has to say and what I had to say and compare them. Then I might do some work. After all, I'm dressed, out of bed and a great deal less unhappy with life.