No more dying: Mayor bans death in village
Better still, this town is only a handful of miles from our location in Mont-de-Marsan. Yes, the people of this region have to ability to suspend life by passing local resolutions.
Friday, March 28, 2008
News
Picked up on this story a few weeks back and saw a video for it today. Just wonderful stuff.
No more dying: Mayor bans death in village
Better still, this town is only a handful of miles from our location in Mont-de-Marsan. Yes, the people of this region have to ability to suspend life by passing local resolutions.
No more dying: Mayor bans death in village Better still, this town is only a handful of miles from our location in Mont-de-Marsan. Yes, the people of this region have to ability to suspend life by passing local resolutions.
Thursday, March 20, 2008
Styles: Tecktonik
Should I feel old for not understanding this? When I walk around town after school is out, I am a head sticking out over a sea of faux-mullet-hawked teenagers. They jangle around town with a "fuck-all" attitude and with heaps of unnecessary accoutrement, bow-legged from their skinny white jeans. I suppose, adolescents will be just that, adolescents.
http://gridskipper.com/357298/dancing-french-electro+mimes-battle-in-the-streets
But I swear, if another one says, "Fack yoo mane" to me, I'm going to go on a rampage.
http://gridskipper.com/357298/dancing-french-electro+mimes-battle-in-the-streets
But I swear, if another one says, "Fack yoo mane" to me, I'm going to go on a rampage.
Saturday, March 8, 2008
Addendum to the last post
I forgot to list my sources:
The story is credited to a shepherd, Matoche, who related it to Felix Arnaudin in 1875. The berger lived in La Sérre de las Prades, which is now called Solférino.
The book from which I translated the story was Contes des Landes de Gascogne: Les Fées de la dune. Ed. Felix Arnaudin. L'école des loisirs. Paris, 2001.
The story is credited to a shepherd, Matoche, who related it to Felix Arnaudin in 1875. The berger lived in La Sérre de las Prades, which is now called Solférino.
The book from which I translated the story was Contes des Landes de Gascogne: Les Fées de la dune. Ed. Felix Arnaudin. L'école des loisirs. Paris, 2001.
Thursday, March 6, 2008
Les Contes (Myths) of Les Landes de Gascogne 1
The Fairies of the Boumbét Dune (1)
There once was a shepherd from Taoulade (2) who lived with his flock on the border of Boumbét. The border no longer exists, but it was north of the Mounds, large meadow-like expanses used extensively by shepherds and their flocks. (3) The shepherd was proud and had learned to read, creating a distance between him and other shepherds. They scolded him, “You are too proud to associate with those who have same worth, but you still have to pull ticks off your herds like us!” But he let them say what they wanted, not letting it get to him.
The Boumbét Dune was a mysterious place and often strange sounds could be heard at night. It was midsummer and he let his flock loose during the warm nights. Some nights, while tending his flock, he would hear sounds like “Gri-Gri-Gri” like the shuffling of dishes. Other times he would hear loud bursts of laughter or noises that sounded like no man who walked on two legs, “Plim-plam, plim-plam.” After hearing these noises, he often fearfully thought he was hearing the sounds of a nest of bumblebees.
One evening, the shepherd arrived at the border, and after letting his flock loose, he went to the highest dune and sat. He pulled a book from his bag and began to read. He read in to the night, forever and ever. At times, he threw a look at the stars. After a while, around midnight, the dune opened up right in front of his eyes. He overheard two women speaking. The first said, “Little Darling, let us see what is happening on the dune.” A little girl’s voice chimed, “Mother, I see a shepherd sitting on a tuft of heather!” The mother replied, “Tell him to come here, and his flock shall be taken care of.”
The girl approached the shepherd and said, “Shepherd, we need you to come with us. Do no worry for your animals.” He thought, “It will not kill me to look and I would love to see what is under the dune!” He followed her down and as soon as he entered, “TRRRRR” and the dune closed behind him. He was very puzzled and looked for a way to escape. “Follow me, no one will harm you,” said the girl. They arrived in the meeting room of a home that was beautiful beyond compare of any that he had ever seen. There were mirrors and beautiful tableware and vases. He was dazzled by one thing after another. Everything was extremely tidy and shone like clear water in the sun.
In a mirror, the shepherd boy saw a scene: a deep, deep moor where shepherds, mounted on stilts wandered and tended their flocks. Then he saw a group of women who laughed at him, and they were so beautiful and graceful, he could not help but stare with pleasure at them. One of them, very young, had a plaited crown of heather and gorse flowers entwined in her hair. “Shepherd,” she says, “stay here and restore yourself and rest your cares. Your sheep do not need to be kept while you are here.” Then the fairies served him a splendid lunch, with an abundance of delicacies that he had never tasted or seen. “Oh! If I am ever to be happy in life, then now is the time,” he thought. When he had eaten well, he was led to a beautiful bed that dared him to not fall asleep in it. “I am no longer in the pallet of the dune (4) and here I don’t have to pick at ticks!” He said as he fell asleep.
When he awoke, he was inclined to read again and laid there reading until the dune reopened. He went out of the dune and found his herd in the exact place that he had left it and in full strength. From that day forward he took to the habit of spending all of his nights in the dune with the fairies. The pretty young fairy and him became good friends. (5) The other shepherds rarely saw him on the surface of the land anymore and questioned him, “Where are you hiding? We lose your for whole days!” But he let them talk behind his back, he still had his sheep, was dressed better than them, and had pockets full of money. His flock flourished more than any of the others and his sheep never mixed with the others. They would divert their paths when coming across another herd.
This gave way to much gossip between the other shepherds. Two of them, more clever and mischevious than the others, decided to follow the Proud Shepherd to the dune at night. They followed him and hid in the bushes. They arrived just in time to see him slip in to the dune. They spread the word of what they saw and by sunrise shepherds, cowherders, and goatherders all over the land began to come from as far as Cantegrit and Labouheyre. (6)
The next night, the shepherd returned to the dune, but with his and the fairies secret being spoiled, the dune did not move a strain. It just remained as before, a sandy hillock, dotted with heather and thyme, and a white path. He cried and tried to summon the fairies back with his despair, but they never did. He became impoverished but would still not leave the Boumbét Dune. He spent the rest of his days, miserable and poor on the dune, never marrying or having other social contact, and with no bed but the ground. To this day, he can be seen wandering the mound by moonlight, hitting the ground with his stick, hoping the ground will open up and let him in.
1 Note on translation: At times the prose may seem awkward or hasty. This is the consequence of attempting to not stray too far from the original text to capture the style and language. Often, though, it was impossible to discern the author’s intentions by providing close to a literal translation and I took liberties. I tried to maintain the intent and message of the story throughout.
2 Possibly referring to the Belgian city of Liège, where a restaurant of the same name can be found. I was not able to find any other sources online for this place name.
3 Many of the locations that occur in legends and myths of Landes/Gascogne no longer exist or have changed names. As Gascogne has been relegated to French linguistic history as a lost regional patois, the names of landmarks have been changed to modern French versions. These changes occurred when swampy heathland that had been used primarily by Gascogne shepherds was converted to “living factories” of pine trees in the 1860’s by decree of Napoleon III.
4 Equivalent of “Not being in Kansas anymore”.
5 Implied amorous relationship. Anyone who has witnessed French teens knows that they can not keep their hands off each other and the setting of an enchanted dune at midnight would no doubt create an ideal location for either the hanky or panky.
6 The latter being the small town right in the center of the Parc Nacional de Landes de Gascogne and the birthplace of the folklorist/translator/author of this tale, Felix Arnaudin.
There once was a shepherd from Taoulade (2) who lived with his flock on the border of Boumbét. The border no longer exists, but it was north of the Mounds, large meadow-like expanses used extensively by shepherds and their flocks. (3) The shepherd was proud and had learned to read, creating a distance between him and other shepherds. They scolded him, “You are too proud to associate with those who have same worth, but you still have to pull ticks off your herds like us!” But he let them say what they wanted, not letting it get to him.
The Boumbét Dune was a mysterious place and often strange sounds could be heard at night. It was midsummer and he let his flock loose during the warm nights. Some nights, while tending his flock, he would hear sounds like “Gri-Gri-Gri” like the shuffling of dishes. Other times he would hear loud bursts of laughter or noises that sounded like no man who walked on two legs, “Plim-plam, plim-plam.” After hearing these noises, he often fearfully thought he was hearing the sounds of a nest of bumblebees.
One evening, the shepherd arrived at the border, and after letting his flock loose, he went to the highest dune and sat. He pulled a book from his bag and began to read. He read in to the night, forever and ever. At times, he threw a look at the stars. After a while, around midnight, the dune opened up right in front of his eyes. He overheard two women speaking. The first said, “Little Darling, let us see what is happening on the dune.” A little girl’s voice chimed, “Mother, I see a shepherd sitting on a tuft of heather!” The mother replied, “Tell him to come here, and his flock shall be taken care of.”
The girl approached the shepherd and said, “Shepherd, we need you to come with us. Do no worry for your animals.” He thought, “It will not kill me to look and I would love to see what is under the dune!” He followed her down and as soon as he entered, “TRRRRR” and the dune closed behind him. He was very puzzled and looked for a way to escape. “Follow me, no one will harm you,” said the girl. They arrived in the meeting room of a home that was beautiful beyond compare of any that he had ever seen. There were mirrors and beautiful tableware and vases. He was dazzled by one thing after another. Everything was extremely tidy and shone like clear water in the sun.
In a mirror, the shepherd boy saw a scene: a deep, deep moor where shepherds, mounted on stilts wandered and tended their flocks. Then he saw a group of women who laughed at him, and they were so beautiful and graceful, he could not help but stare with pleasure at them. One of them, very young, had a plaited crown of heather and gorse flowers entwined in her hair. “Shepherd,” she says, “stay here and restore yourself and rest your cares. Your sheep do not need to be kept while you are here.” Then the fairies served him a splendid lunch, with an abundance of delicacies that he had never tasted or seen. “Oh! If I am ever to be happy in life, then now is the time,” he thought. When he had eaten well, he was led to a beautiful bed that dared him to not fall asleep in it. “I am no longer in the pallet of the dune (4) and here I don’t have to pick at ticks!” He said as he fell asleep.
When he awoke, he was inclined to read again and laid there reading until the dune reopened. He went out of the dune and found his herd in the exact place that he had left it and in full strength. From that day forward he took to the habit of spending all of his nights in the dune with the fairies. The pretty young fairy and him became good friends. (5) The other shepherds rarely saw him on the surface of the land anymore and questioned him, “Where are you hiding? We lose your for whole days!” But he let them talk behind his back, he still had his sheep, was dressed better than them, and had pockets full of money. His flock flourished more than any of the others and his sheep never mixed with the others. They would divert their paths when coming across another herd.
This gave way to much gossip between the other shepherds. Two of them, more clever and mischevious than the others, decided to follow the Proud Shepherd to the dune at night. They followed him and hid in the bushes. They arrived just in time to see him slip in to the dune. They spread the word of what they saw and by sunrise shepherds, cowherders, and goatherders all over the land began to come from as far as Cantegrit and Labouheyre. (6)
The next night, the shepherd returned to the dune, but with his and the fairies secret being spoiled, the dune did not move a strain. It just remained as before, a sandy hillock, dotted with heather and thyme, and a white path. He cried and tried to summon the fairies back with his despair, but they never did. He became impoverished but would still not leave the Boumbét Dune. He spent the rest of his days, miserable and poor on the dune, never marrying or having other social contact, and with no bed but the ground. To this day, he can be seen wandering the mound by moonlight, hitting the ground with his stick, hoping the ground will open up and let him in.
1 Note on translation: At times the prose may seem awkward or hasty. This is the consequence of attempting to not stray too far from the original text to capture the style and language. Often, though, it was impossible to discern the author’s intentions by providing close to a literal translation and I took liberties. I tried to maintain the intent and message of the story throughout.
2 Possibly referring to the Belgian city of Liège, where a restaurant of the same name can be found. I was not able to find any other sources online for this place name.
3 Many of the locations that occur in legends and myths of Landes/Gascogne no longer exist or have changed names. As Gascogne has been relegated to French linguistic history as a lost regional patois, the names of landmarks have been changed to modern French versions. These changes occurred when swampy heathland that had been used primarily by Gascogne shepherds was converted to “living factories” of pine trees in the 1860’s by decree of Napoleon III.
4 Equivalent of “Not being in Kansas anymore”.
5 Implied amorous relationship. Anyone who has witnessed French teens knows that they can not keep their hands off each other and the setting of an enchanted dune at midnight would no doubt create an ideal location for either the hanky or panky.
6 The latter being the small town right in the center of the Parc Nacional de Landes de Gascogne and the birthplace of the folklorist/translator/author of this tale, Felix Arnaudin.
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