So says Alberto Gómez, Fundación del Español Urgente person. He puts it down to better quality control, while the Spanish right–of course–think it’s the result of a loss of identification with the language. (Gómez’ preachy foundation is an EFE-bot. The EFE release contains errors of orthography (“National Association of Hispanic Journalist”) and fact (the US…
I’m really fond of Eulàlia Petit’s Barcelonetes because, unlike the overwhelming majority of distinctly underwhelming blogs here, it provides useful stuff and not house, garden and kitchen chitchat. Take, for example, this drawing of a vendor using simple Roman scales (una romana) in a Montpellier market. Close-ups of others here and here, and here‘s a…
In vague reference to après moi, le déluge and José Luis Guerín, this, from Carmen Laforet, Nada (1945): – Espero que no habrás bajado hacia el puerto por las Ramblas. – ¿Por qué no? – Hija mía, hay unas calles en las que si una señorita se metiera alguna vez, perdería para siempre su reputación.…
Here‘s a lovely little thing by Jacques Prévert. Some of the best Dutch kleinkunst in the 60s was built according to French models, and brief Parisian romances with Annemaries were the order of the day. I once spent an evening listening to the splendid voice of one of Sonneveld’s writers, and I wish I could…
The last time I went down Ridley Road market, this geezer (nature of usage: advisèd) was selling a sheep that looked as if he’d slaughtered it himself while on acid in the back of his Mondeo. Things are changing, notes the wonderful Hackney Gazette, via April Angell@KissMyPanties.com, via Albert Pantygirdle, who is back on the…
Erik Dams has been czeching old French ladies who insist on being called “mademoiselle”, but it seems that moves are underway to end the official distinction between “madame” and “mademoiselle”. I’ve never understood why titles have to figure on forms anyway: I’ve filled in “Mrs” for years; no harm has ever come to me as…