Bits and Pieces
A few things:
First, I only took three pictures in France. A picture of the Massenet memorial, which didn't really come out, a picture of the Cop Copine store in Châtelet, which is intended only for a few musicologists, and this one. It turns out Davé, the hippest bad chinese restaurant in Paris, is surpisingly close to the the old National Library on the Rue Richelieu, where the manuscripts are. Readers of the New Yorker will know why this is big deal. While many magazine articles in several languaged are posted in the window, the New Yorker piece (in which the chef is pointly accused of not caring about the food at all) is conspicuously absent.
I forgot to mention that I ran into a certain Berkeley professor on sabbatical in the music reading room of the BN. Let call him... um... Professor WorstTeacherEver. He bought me lunch—he really is a really, really nice guy. He told me that he's recently made a rather shocking musicologal discovery involving a 40-voice mass. Is this common knowledge around the department?
I meant to mention: the uniforms of the Eurostar staff are so awesome. I can't find any picture on the web, but take my word for it.
The williams.edu email address is officially dead dead dead. This makes me very sad. I could bitch but I won't. Send all mail to berkeley.edu.
I have a deadline for the next chapter: a real draft to The Advisoress by Friday April 22. Hold me to this, friends. It's time to get serious about a lot of things...
First, I only took three pictures in France. A picture of the Massenet memorial, which didn't really come out, a picture of the Cop Copine store in Châtelet, which is intended only for a few musicologists, and this one. It turns out Davé, the hippest bad chinese restaurant in Paris, is surpisingly close to the the old National Library on the Rue Richelieu, where the manuscripts are. Readers of the New Yorker will know why this is big deal. While many magazine articles in several languaged are posted in the window, the New Yorker piece (in which the chef is pointly accused of not caring about the food at all) is conspicuously absent.
I forgot to mention that I ran into a certain Berkeley professor on sabbatical in the music reading room of the BN. Let call him... um... Professor WorstTeacherEver. He bought me lunch—he really is a really, really nice guy. He told me that he's recently made a rather shocking musicologal discovery involving a 40-voice mass. Is this common knowledge around the department?
I meant to mention: the uniforms of the Eurostar staff are so awesome. I can't find any picture on the web, but take my word for it.
The williams.edu email address is officially dead dead dead. This makes me very sad. I could bitch but I won't. Send all mail to berkeley.edu.
I have a deadline for the next chapter: a real draft to The Advisoress by Friday April 22. Hold me to this, friends. It's time to get serious about a lot of things...
posted by Grrg at 12:14 AM
2 Comments:
That New Yorker article was a classic.
I know! I know! For the edification of the unenlightened, here is the essay, substantially cut and republished in the (London) Observer Sunday Magazine:
http://observer.guardian.co.uk/foodmonthly/story/0,9950,1388554,00.html
A dirty little secret is that it seem practically ALL of the (London) Observer Sunday Magazine stories are substantially cut versions of New Yorker articles, from several months earlier. This is never acknowledged.
In this case, the abridgers have removed my favorite moment in the story, where Davé goes to a Helmut Lang runway show, and says to the designer, "Oh, Helmut, this isn't fashion!" Awesome.
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