Ding dong! Can you just say that again, but ... better?
Being in a foreign country sometimes leads to a sort of native tongue dyslexia. These almost two years in the Netherlands have led to the revealing of my "ring ring, is anyone home?" side.
On the phone to Lauren last Sunday I remember delving deeply into the "abyss of my mind" to relay some scintillating tale of my Dutch language learning adventures here in the lowlands. Shortly thereafter, when discussing the dormant nature of my long ago learnt Italian, I chimed in with some reference to the importance of "language aversion". And Lauren, bless her soul, did correct me both times and there were many peals of laughter to accompany the clumsy butchering of English - my cant, which is otherwise poetic, lyrical and life-changing when in the command of able masters.
Of course, it was a charming coincidence that my own poorly expressed variety of English should happen when referring to my own struggles with language and languages in general. But the greatest irony is, that I am in the throes of attempting the greatest challenge of all.
I'm trying to write my second novel. And this time, it's no race. It's no fool's quest to hit a target word count in a record time frame. It has a structure, it has themes! And no, although it's a first real novel, it's not an embellished memoir.
This will be an epic adventure story (eek, that sounds horrid) that spans two continents and it will be about true love (okay, I know a lot about that, though), loss (hm, I know much less ...) and what happens to a good person when everything they treasure is taken from them (ouch). Needless to say I will be doing hoards of research.
All those late nights. All those odd dreams. All that eavesdropping. Will all be put to good use.
And so I am declaring to my friends and family that "the book" will be written by Christmas and it will appear in the form of some hard cover bound volume, and it will be proudly presented to my darling mother as per the verbal contract we made a few weeks ago. If I do not deliver on this promise, then I will ... hmm ... I dunno, run the Eindhoven marathon in 2009.
My god, what am I saying?
Well, the terms have been drawn. I must keep to my word (or buy some new running shoes).
After my mum finishes "the book" she will certainly gain a true awareness of not only the recesses, but the real abyss that is my mind. And when it comes to language immersion (because there may be Dutch in the veritable tome of 100,000 words that I aim for), my mother may very well develop some of the aforesaid aversion to the my mastery of it too. Yes, all this may indeed take its toll on her. And me, for that matter.
Ah. When words get in the way, my solution is to ....
run like the bloody clappers!
To run like the clappers comes from when the bell was rung to tell the workers it was time for work in the morning. As it got closer to starting time, the bell was rung faster. The phrase was used when stragglers still had a good 15-20 minute walk across the yards to get to their place of work, and so they picked up speed and ran as fast as the clappers (the starting bell).
On the phone to Lauren last Sunday I remember delving deeply into the "abyss of my mind" to relay some scintillating tale of my Dutch language learning adventures here in the lowlands. Shortly thereafter, when discussing the dormant nature of my long ago learnt Italian, I chimed in with some reference to the importance of "language aversion". And Lauren, bless her soul, did correct me both times and there were many peals of laughter to accompany the clumsy butchering of English - my cant, which is otherwise poetic, lyrical and life-changing when in the command of able masters.
Of course, it was a charming coincidence that my own poorly expressed variety of English should happen when referring to my own struggles with language and languages in general. But the greatest irony is, that I am in the throes of attempting the greatest challenge of all.
I'm trying to write my second novel. And this time, it's no race. It's no fool's quest to hit a target word count in a record time frame. It has a structure, it has themes! And no, although it's a first real novel, it's not an embellished memoir.
This will be an epic adventure story (eek, that sounds horrid) that spans two continents and it will be about true love (okay, I know a lot about that, though), loss (hm, I know much less ...) and what happens to a good person when everything they treasure is taken from them (ouch). Needless to say I will be doing hoards of research.
All those late nights. All those odd dreams. All that eavesdropping. Will all be put to good use.
And so I am declaring to my friends and family that "the book" will be written by Christmas and it will appear in the form of some hard cover bound volume, and it will be proudly presented to my darling mother as per the verbal contract we made a few weeks ago. If I do not deliver on this promise, then I will ... hmm ... I dunno, run the Eindhoven marathon in 2009.
My god, what am I saying?
Well, the terms have been drawn. I must keep to my word (or buy some new running shoes).
After my mum finishes "the book" she will certainly gain a true awareness of not only the recesses, but the real abyss that is my mind. And when it comes to language immersion (because there may be Dutch in the veritable tome of 100,000 words that I aim for), my mother may very well develop some of the aforesaid aversion to the my mastery of it too. Yes, all this may indeed take its toll on her. And me, for that matter.
Ah. When words get in the way, my solution is to ....
run like the bloody clappers!
To run like the clappers comes from when the bell was rung to tell the workers it was time for work in the morning. As it got closer to starting time, the bell was rung faster. The phrase was used when stragglers still had a good 15-20 minute walk across the yards to get to their place of work, and so they picked up speed and ran as fast as the clappers (the starting bell).
posted by Chasing Paradise at 8:17 PM
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