Today I worked out why the Cambridge Librarians in Training group calls itself Camlit.
Les Troyens from the Met at cinema today. Wondered why the Trojans were discussing Shakespeare, then realised they were singing ‘J’expire’.
A reading at evensong tonight about the impossibility of circumcision reversal. I shake my head, as if in regret. A man opposite laughs.
There’s usually an appropriate German word and it’s usually Sehnsucht. The feeling you get on looking up at someone’s window.
Walking home, ‘Le vent dans la plaine’ came on and I found myself thinking of J when we were sixteen and seventeen, talking about Zimerman and the Debussy preludes and playing two-piano improvisations for what felt like ages but might have been as little as half an hour or 45 minutes, and realising I’d found something important.
New German reader appears at the desk: ‘Am I right here?’ Hard to say no.
Granny is 88 today, and opening birthday cards with a knife. ‘Careful or we’ll be off to A&E!’ ‘I’d rather bleed to death.’
A man in a fluorescent jacket humming ‘Voi che sapete’ in Sainsbury’s.
You can tell how reliable someone is as a person by their past library fines. L is in his final year and has 38 books out but has never had a fine (and I suspect never will). I would quite readily give him a job here for life.
On Cesc Fàbregas: ‘His father was made of fibreglass and his mother was some wood shavings.’