To Reach the Unreachable Stars
Today was a pleasant day here in L.A. My big event for the day was to head over to UCLA, where I'd join the wife in participating in a marathon reading of Don Quixote. This month is the 400th anniversary of its publication, and the grad students in the Spanish and Portuguese departments were responsible for the marathon reading, which was held in the rotunda of the beautiful Powell Library, one of the four original buildings at UCLA's Westwood campus.
My lovely wife was teamed with Susan Plann. Their reading was first, with Professor Plann reading the text out loud in English, while my wife simultaneously narrated the chapter in ASL. When they finished, I took over the next chapter, and did a dreadful rendition in Sim-Com. Lesson: when you give a public performance, practice, practice, practice! Additonally, I probably should have taken up a grad student's offer and had her do the reading in English, while I followed my wife's lead and signed my bit. I keep forgetting that trying to speak in two languages is impossible, and one way or another, you're going to butcher at least one of those languages. I have an increased respect for interpreters following my stint. Luckily, the only person there to really notice was my gorgeous companion, and possibly the good professor (not sure how up to par her receptive skills are now, though). To the rest of the handful of listeners present, it just looked pretty, I suppose. *grimace*
UCLA has a number of events celebrating Cervantes and Don Quixote going on during the month. I was interested in possibly going to the Ball, but we have a dinner date Saturday night, and I think I'd enjoy the company of our friends far more than the Ball. Maybe some other time...
After we finished, I stopped in the central hall of the rotunda, and viewed the exhibit cases. This was kind of interesting, as each case had items related to Don Quixote. There was a early copy of the book, from 1735, comic book versions of the tale, movie posters, stickers, stamps, and all kinds of esoterica.
It was just a reading in a small corner of UCLA, sure, but I thought it was fun to participate in an event like this. It's kind of neat to know that literature can survive that long and continue to have an impact long after the author's death. It's a kind of immortality that I envy. I'm not sure if I'm cut out to be a writer. I'm still struggling with that notion. But if I do take up the quest to write, I hope someday to reach the unreachable stars.
My lovely wife was teamed with Susan Plann. Their reading was first, with Professor Plann reading the text out loud in English, while my wife simultaneously narrated the chapter in ASL. When they finished, I took over the next chapter, and did a dreadful rendition in Sim-Com. Lesson: when you give a public performance, practice, practice, practice! Additonally, I probably should have taken up a grad student's offer and had her do the reading in English, while I followed my wife's lead and signed my bit. I keep forgetting that trying to speak in two languages is impossible, and one way or another, you're going to butcher at least one of those languages. I have an increased respect for interpreters following my stint. Luckily, the only person there to really notice was my gorgeous companion, and possibly the good professor (not sure how up to par her receptive skills are now, though). To the rest of the handful of listeners present, it just looked pretty, I suppose. *grimace*
UCLA has a number of events celebrating Cervantes and Don Quixote going on during the month. I was interested in possibly going to the Ball, but we have a dinner date Saturday night, and I think I'd enjoy the company of our friends far more than the Ball. Maybe some other time...
After we finished, I stopped in the central hall of the rotunda, and viewed the exhibit cases. This was kind of interesting, as each case had items related to Don Quixote. There was a early copy of the book, from 1735, comic book versions of the tale, movie posters, stickers, stamps, and all kinds of esoterica.
It was just a reading in a small corner of UCLA, sure, but I thought it was fun to participate in an event like this. It's kind of neat to know that literature can survive that long and continue to have an impact long after the author's death. It's a kind of immortality that I envy. I'm not sure if I'm cut out to be a writer. I'm still struggling with that notion. But if I do take up the quest to write, I hope someday to reach the unreachable stars.
posted by Mr. Sandman | 4:45 PM
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