April 15, 2008
To combine one shameless plug with another, I’m ostensibly posting this to celebrate the publication of the book puffed below.
But since I’d already mentioned the widow Clicquot down there, and since the non-vintage bottle is so very attractive and so powerfully evocative of joyous good fun and bonhomie (for me at any rate—you lot can get your own Proustian-madeleine-type-thingie), I thought I’d pop this piccie up.
The thought that some lovely rep from said bubbly-co might drop by and see that I’ve directly linked to their website, and then, perhaps, casually reward my disinterested plug (it really is marvellous stuff, you know: if need be, sell your children to ensure a regular suppy) with a bottle magnum case of this very nectar, never crossed my simple mind. No, not even once, I tell you.
[After this case, VCP would no doubt be delighted to take this opportunity to foster Canadian goodwill by an act of spontaneous largesse to celebrate the publication! I for one would drink a toast to such a gesture... ]
April 16, 2008 at 3:33 pm
Happily for me, you can’t trademark titles–unless of course, you have written one of the world’s most famous books. Christopher Tolkien might have something to say if you write your own “Lord of the Rings.” And J. K. Rowlings will weep and sue if you write your own “Harry Potter and the… (Bridge of Sighs? Weirdstone of Brigensamen? Red Baron?)
There is no other book entitled “The Widow of Saint-Pierre”, but there is a French film (2000) called “La Veuve de Saint-Pierre” which, strangely is translated as “The Widow of Saint-Pierre” on DVDs. Totally different media.
This still gives me some pause, though, but then I consider how many different books are called “P.S. I Love You” and also the number of widows there have been in Saint-Pierre. I mean, can anyone claim rights to “widow” in conjunction with “Saint-Pierre”? What about “good woman” in conjunction with “Szechwan”?
If a lawsuit is launched, will I sell more copies? Anyway, although Veuve C. makes mighty fine champers (had some for my 35th bday), where do they (does she) get off trying to trademark a common French name? It’s a bit like bloody McDonald’s suing Scots hamburger joints owned by real McDonalds.
April 16, 2008 at 3:35 pm
Oh, and what about all those books, films, operas, etc, about a cranky old German divine named Faustus?
April 17, 2008 at 11:00 am
Righteous indignation, dear Seraphic.
I like your “Harry Potter…” riffing. I regulary take tea in one of the caffs said to be the place in which the then poverty-stricken JKR took refuge to write the first HP tale. “Harry Potter and the Everlasting Cup of Coffee”, as it were. In the same series:
“Harry Potter and the Toothpaste of Doom”
“Harry Potter and the Garage of Boredom”
“Harry Potter and the Cardinal’s Cutlery”
“Harry Potter and Defenestration of Ipswich”
“Harry Potter and the Toenails of Faust”
“Harry Potter and the Free Case of Champagne”
“Harry Potter and the man who spent all his time at work thinking up daft Harry Potter titles at his employers’ expense…”
Er. That’s it.
April 17, 2008 at 11:13 am
“Bloody hell,” said Ron. “Harry, they’ve taken all the windows.”
It was true. All though the wizard town of Ipswich, empty window frames gaped, leaving wizard homes vulnerable to the spite of the Death-Eaters.
“Well, what do you expect me to do about it?” said Harry angrily, gritting his teeth.
“Come on, Harry,” said Hermione, tears springing to her eyes. “I know you’re suffering from adolescent angst, but think of poor Ipswich!”
April 17, 2008 at 11:30 am
“Urgh. And stop picking your spots,” Hermione added.
Tee-hee!
Of course, being at w*rk, I’m not reading the comments on my ‘blog…
April 17, 2008 at 1:29 pm
(Ewww! Gross!)
“I can’t help it,” snarled Harry. “Malfoy slipped a Pustular Potion into my pumpkin juice.”
“Well, let me fix it,” said Hermione, wincing. “You’ll leave a scar!”
She waved her wand.
“Pustulae Vamanos!”
“Whew,” said Harry. “Thanks!”
Ron looked at them both suspiciously.
April 17, 2008 at 4:21 pm
As well he might! You’ve clearly a talent for this, young Miss Single. If you go on to finish this tale I won’t denmand more than, say, 15% of the royalties for the intellectual right to the title and original inspiration. I’m not sure how much JKR will be wanting though…
I’m now offically posting in unstolen time. So that’s just the hardware and net-access I’m stealing now.
April 17, 2008 at 5:16 pm
Oh, fine. First Aelianus, and now you. What is this Northern British obsession with getting 15% of my profits? (She sulks, ponders the lack of gallantry of the New Male.)
April 17, 2008 at 5:22 pm
But I’d be saving it all up for your palooza-expenses so that you want for nothing from the time your wee feet first touch this blessed isle!
Veuve C and chic tartan bonnets don’t buy themselves you know…
April 17, 2008 at 6:02 pm
But in that case, there’s no point giving you the 15% which I could spend perfectly well myself. (Ponders availability of rooms in Edinburgh in summer, should daily readers get around to buying my book.)
April 17, 2008 at 6:16 pm
Dang. You saw through that one pretty quick[ly].
If it’s any compensation for my ungallantry, in the Palazzo Ben’Ambrosiano Nuevo there are many mansions. Independent reviews and character references available on request.
April 17, 2008 at 6:24 pm
That sounds quite nice! Does one write to the NT? Meanwhile, I was reading the Daily Mail ( http://www.dailymail.co.uk/pages/live/femail/article.html in_article_id=560171&in_page_id=1879 ), and although I am keen to do as the Romans do (and not suffer the fate of my grandfather, who was dismissed as a “Yank” in ‘45 by such of his family that did not emigrate), must I really wear a teeny skirt and tank top, drink myself into insensibility and then be sick in an alley? Or is that just England? I have no memories of such behaviours in either ‘75 or ‘96, when last I came to Britain’s shores.
April 17, 2008 at 6:49 pm
In re skirtette, tank-top, blottoing & al fresco chunk-blowing: all entirely optional, and in some places downright uncalled for. Er, I don’t mean the clothing is optional, just your particular choice of costume. “I’m sure that whatever madam chooses to wear would be entirely appropriate and quite delightful,” as Jeeves might say.
In re slumming it at Benny’s Palace (which invitation I threw out flippantly but entirely sincerely), I should think either Aelianus or Mark R’n'P would be glad to furnish you with the necessary gen.
Ah, I can hear the clink of the ice in my G’n'T: Jeeves must be ready to serve dinner.
April 18, 2008 at 2:47 am
Well, first I must concentrate on getting people to buy my book, and then I will worry about the etiquette of the situ, chaperones, etc.
April 18, 2008 at 8:32 am
Admirably wise and proper, Miss Single: always re-assuring qualities in prospective house-guests.
With regard to sales of the book, plug it shamelessly, & bonne chance!
B “the man with no shame” A
April 18, 2008 at 3:40 pm
Bulletin: my mother says I don’t have to worry about chaperonage at my age. I think there are layers of meaning in this statement.
April 19, 2008 at 1:49 pm
Perhaps: the solution’s not to dig too deep down into them!
Oh, and remind me when I plan a dinner in honour of your eventual arrival not to let it last till 4.20am when I’ve got to help run a kiddies’ bird-watch at 7.45am. Thanks everso.
B(ring me) A(lkaseltzer)
April 19, 2008 at 1:52 pm
P.S.: My Widow arrived today - huzzah! (Er, the book not the bubbly.)
April 19, 2008 at 4:17 pm
Mine haven’t! What is with lulu.com and it’s Canadian market? Grrr! Well, I do hope you enjoy, and thank you very much for your support, dear Benedict Ambrose.
April 19, 2008 at 4:17 pm
Er, “its market”, I meant to say. Ahem.
April 19, 2008 at 5:05 pm
Send me an email when you’re done to tell me what you think. (She paces the room, feeling the weight of her isolation and longing for a discussion of her Art.)
April 19, 2008 at 5:54 pm
Here’s the part where I have to cough to spending the next part of this evening in the cinema(!) instead of giving in to my all-but irresistable urge to go home and get torn in to your latest… Fickle!
But, if fatigue does not overtake me completely first, I’ll be spending the last conscious moments of today soaking up your rich prose, dear Seraphic!
Don’t wear the carpets out now…
April 19, 2008 at 7:04 pm
Argh!
April 20, 2008 at 10:10 am
Just the tiniest and quickest of updates to keep you ticking over, poor tormented soul that you are!
First, the fillum: gentle, funny and poignant for its first 3/4; crushingly sad and misery-making in it last 1/4. A cold, solitary bus journey home did not lift my spirits much…
But the first 6 chapters of The Widow most certainly did. Witty, engaging, pacy, stylish and (seemingly) effortlessly well-written: Robertson Davies meets Kate Atkinson (and hit it off big-time). And in my book (pun forseen but unintended: will double-effect get me off the hook?) that combo is a Very Good Thing.
Since the truth ought to be dearer to us than even loyalty to friends, I must mention what I didn’t like. Except that there wasn’t anything that I didn’t like. Truly.
Bravo*, ma chère Seraphique! And thank you.
And now to Mass…
Apparently, the French don’t use “brava”.
April 20, 2008 at 11:08 am
April 20, 2008 at 11:11 am
Oh, and thought of it while tearing down dead morning glories from the fence: “Harry Potter and the Glamour of Evil.”
April 20, 2008 at 12:08 pm
And you’ve been tagged. See my site for details.
April 21, 2008 at 5:23 pm
“The man likened my work to that of Robertson Davies. ”
Yup. All that, and true too! Mind you, maybe you should have a look at what else I’ve read recently first… As Dr Johnson is supposed to have quipped in response to hearing of a lady who judged him the greatest writer living, “If I were, she would not know it.”
Once I’ve finished The Widow (the book, not the bubbly), I’m going to re-read the Cornish Trilogy - you’ve put me right in the mood for it.
B(earded) A(gain)