If you’ve ever taken a course in French literature, whether taught in English or French, you may well have read one of Victor Hugo’s most famous poems, Demain dès l’aube. The poem first appeared in 1856—one of seventeen compositions that Hugo dedicated to his daughter, Léopoldine, who drowned in a…
This week, I’m in Colorado celebrating my son’s new status as a Master of Applied Mathematics. In observance of the occasion, we’re enjoying copious mouth-watering meals and burning off the accumulating calories with mountain hikes. In honor of his achievement, I took a cue from the famous American essayist, Ralph…
Facebook says you’re gone, Like the many maddening horrors that mark the daily news, It can’t be true. Weren’t we just kids? You, pirouetting beneath a falling baton, Me, drawing glances with a waving flag. In the crowded hallways you caught my eye. Like a favorite sweater, you slipped over…
In 1968, The Sunday Times in London ran a competition to translate the poem Spleen, by the famous French poet Charles Baudelaire. Upon learning of the contest, Nicholas Moore, who had once been one of Britain’s most celebrated poets, decided to have a little fun and also prove a point.…
In recent weeks, I’ve been making my way through The Story of French, a history of the French language. In a chapter devoted to French spoken in Canada, I was reminded of the history of the Acadian people. The authors made note of an epic poem, Evangeline by Henry Wadsworth…
On Friday, my daughters Rita and Rose turned 18. It was a joyous occasion. My husband Andy and I are now the parents of 3 adults! Our son is 20. Those who know us, know that we did not take the usual route to parenthood. Our first offspring were businesses,…
My friend, you’ll be back In the afternoon, when I’m chopping vegetables for a soup or folding laundry, you’ll be back. You’ll sit at the high counter as you have so often, while I convey my frustrations with the latest news or my fascination with a newly found book or…
