First off:

Recommend to me:

1. A movie.
2. A book.
3. A musical artist, song, or album.
4. An LJ user not on my friends list.

Copy and paste with your answers in my comments. Then copy and paste the questions in your own journal.

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As I mentioned in an earlier post, I went to see “Jacques Brel…” on Saturday night.

In the play (revue? show?) is a song called “Marieke” which is a meditation on loss of a loved one in war. Heartbreaking.

Most of the songs are translated from French; this one song includes lines in Dutch and German and French. No need to translate.

This got me thinking — it has always felt to me that certain languages seem more effective at delivering certain emotional states than others. For instance, French to me has always seemed amenable to expressing a sort of bittersweet longing that we don’t capture well in English.

This is not at all to say that other languages are incapable of a variety of nuances — far from it; and I certainly don’t want this to sound as if I’m stereotyping the speakers of a given language, because that’s not what I think I’m getting at.

I think this is a sort of version of the Sapir-Whorf hypothesis that language affects thought — that the words used in a given language can affect what the speaker of that language thinks. It’s the old “12 Inuit words for snow” legend: that because the words are there, the characteristics are more visible.

But I don’t trust myself here…I’m curious:

1. Am I merely projecting American attitudes?

2. Am I totally full of shit?

3. If I’m not: what does English do well at?

Seems like time to do some event recounting.

THURSDAY: Went out after work to see Seren Divine’s last Worcester feature before she moves to NYC. A good set, lots of backpages stuff. I’m going to really miss Seren — we’ve always been close, sharing lots of poetry experiences together and becoming good friends in the process.

FRIDAY: Work, then eat sushi and hang out at home.

SATURDAY: Went to Boston to see “Jacques Brel Is Alive and Well and Living in Paris”, which was fun and a good excuse to get together with friends and eat great Indian food and plan for our fall trip to Portugal and Spain. Three couples, two weeks, a jones for sangria, fado, and flamenco, and anniversary/honeymoons with any luck (Dan and Mike are planning to get married before the trip as long as the Massachusetts legislature doesn’t fuck with the SJC decision, and Annie and I will be celebrating our 20th anniversary…)

SUNDAY: Hang in Boston, come home, hit the sack early (Sorry Asylum, I just was too tired).

Today: Work. Work. Work.

More later.