Monday, 31 October 2016


While I listened to someone talking in Russian, I realized some words do have some resonance. A culinary one.
For example, the Romanian word for kindergarten (grădiniță) has always got me thinking about (and craving for) roe salad. Yet, the Romanian 'you're welcome!' (Cu plăcere!) leads in the top of such special words. And this because it always made me think of apple pie with nuts and cinnamon. 
As for sibea, I could relate its resonance to a Russian TV series for children during the time I was little and my sister would make me vermicelli with milk and sugar. It still tastes the same.

Friday, 21 October 2016

Matei Visniec - Preventative Disorder

Media cynicism. How many have got it? How many can see it?

By reading 'Preventative Disorder', one can actually see the curtain coming down, unveiling a fragile desk at which all wills are gathered. Yes, everything is a game of will. The will to rank a good rating at any cost, the will to adapt to the trends, the will to get by no matter the risks, the will to narrate subjective truths embellished by nonsensical happenings, the will to live in normality, but most of all, the will to constantly define normality. Aside from this game of wills, the narration is beautifully combined with personal testimonials and new definitions given to words or language, but also with 'the mechanics of producing cliches and media labels'.

Tuesday, 11 October 2016

When home is a box full of surprises

My visit to Tulcea was also marked by a surprise. Totally unplanned by no one. Well, maybe by the bookcase in the living room.
('I really enjoy learning tailoring' written by Draga Neagu)
Good tailwind, squirrels!

Sunday, 9 October 2016

Milan Kundera – The Festival of Insignificance

Milan Kundera’s latest novel is just like all his other novels, a masterpiece. An illustrative mingling of history, philosophy, critique of society and individualism, but also downthrown of ideas we thought were invariable. Even from the first Milan Kundera's novel I read, I have always admired his extraordinary talent of making history and its main actors present in the unfolding of current affairs, or in the explanation of current affairs. Thus, historical actors acquire a right to be seen in a totally new light, and not in order to excuse themselves, over years, to the current generations, but to explain themselves. It is the case, in this novel, of Stalin and the story of the twenty-four francolins.

The scenery or the places where the action takes place have little or almost no significance, and only those elements important to the story are described. Again, another thing I truly admire in Milan Kundera’s narration is that it lets the readers invent their own setting (if necessary), stressing more on the action. Thus, mom’s portrait of one of the four main characters of the novel is described as hanging on a wall, and then we find out about its significance.

Significance or insignificance? There are a lot of elements in the narration that present both of them. In a most democratic way, both the characters and the reader can choose one of the two values in order to bring themselves peace. Sometimes, even both of the values.

I cannot remain insensible to the description of the gigantic tree. It is so beautifully described that I’d be inclined to take it as irony addressed to the feminine. But I take the democratic right mentioned above and I choose to see the description as a frank and unbiased one. As for ‘the army of apologizers’, I tend to think there are more of them out there then we’d expect.