The idle ramblings of a Jack of some trades, Master of none

The French are so pleased when outsiders learn to speak their language well. Imagine their ecstasy if these outsiders not only speak, but also write with beauty and style. We Anglophones do not blink when we encounter novels of singular excellence wrought by non-native writers. The French, though, are beside themselves with delight. Yesterday's Le Figaro had an article by Françoise Dargent, trying to analyse what prompted all those foreigners like Jonathan Littell and Milan Kundera to abandon their mother tongues in favour of French. As it is a rather slow evening, I have translated the piece in my usual haphazard way, and you can find it at Sundry Translations and Other Tangentialia.

Come on, people! It's a New Year! Let's have your translations of articles and stories and matters of interest that are crying out (or muttering, even) for wider readership in English. Don't be shy. All contributions welcome.


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