Happy Birthday Gustave, 1821 in Rouen France, and thanks for Madame Bovary!
One of my favorite lines in all of literature comes from Madame Bovary; “Language is a cracked kettle on which we beat out tunes for bears to dance to, while all the time we long to move the stars to pity.” Flaubert described perfectly the failing of language, in this case a rather naive and simple Emma Bovary was trying to convey to her more experienced and perhaps jaded lover the depths of her feelings for him. Her lover, having no feelings for her, thinks her flowery words are just the sort of thing you say when you're sleeping with somebody and then dumps her by leaving her a note in a basket of apricots.
2 comments:
"Madame Bovary, c'est moi"
Dexter - just because you dress like her doesn't mean that you are her.
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