Heinrich Boell No. 2

The second (and last) of my two amazingly lame English translations of German masterpieces by Heinrich Boell:
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Confession of a Dogcatcher

[1953]

It is only with hesitation that I admit to a profession which, though it feeds me, forces me into activities that I cannot always undertake with a clear conscience:  I am an employee of the Dog Tax Office and wander the fields of our city in order to track down unregistered pooches.  Disguised as an amicable walker, chubby and short, a cigar of medium price range in my mouth, I walk through parks and quiet streets, venture conversations with people who walk dogs, make mental notes of their names, their address, scratch the dog’s neck pretending to be friendly, knowing that it will soon yield fifty marks.

I know the registered dogs, smell it almost, feel it when a mutt with a clear conscience stands at a tree and relieves itself.  I am particularly interested in bitches that are heavy with young, that are looking forward to the auspicious birth of future taxpayers: I keep tabs on them, make precise mental notes of the date of the litter and monitor where the puppies are taken, let them grow unsuspectingly up to that stage where no one dares drown them any longer—and then hand them over to the law.  Maybe I should have elected a different profession, because I like dogs, and therefore I live in a constant state of heartache: duty and love battle in my breast, and I confess openly that sometimes the love wins.  There are dogs that I simply cannot report, to whom I—how do you put it—turn two blind eyes.  A particular meekness fills my soul now, especially because my own dog is not registered either: a mongrel whom my wife lovingly feeds, the favorite plaything of my children, who do not suspect to what an illegal thing they are giving their love.

Life is really hazardous.  Maybe I should have been more careful; but the fact that I am a keeper of the law to a certain extent strengthens my belief that I am free to continue breaking it.  My work is difficult: I crouch hours on end in thorny bushes of the suburbs, wait for barking to surge from a halfway house or barbarous yapping from a barrack where I conjecture a suspicious dog.  Or I duck behind fallen walls and ambush a fox terrier about which I know that it does not have an index card, does not have an account number.  Then I return home tired and filthy, smoke my cigar at the furnace and scratch the coat of our Pluto, who wags his tail and reminds me of the paradox of my livelihood.

Therefore it is understandable that I cherish a long walk with my wife, my children, and Pluto on Sundays, a walk on which I may, so to speak, only have platonic interest in dogs, because on Sundays even unregistered dogs are not monitored.

It is just that I must choose a different route for us to walk in future, because I have met my supervisor two Sundays in a row already, and he stops every time, greets my wife and my children, and scratches our Pluto’s coat.  But curiously:  Pluto does not like him, growls, prepares to leap, which alarms me in the highest degree, causes me to leave hastily every time, and is beginning to arouse the suspicion of my supervisor, who, with a knotted brow, watches the drops of sweat that collect on my brow.

Maybe I should have registered Pluto, but my income is small—maybe I should have taken up a different profession, but I am fifty, and at my age one no longer wants to change the line of work: in any case the hazard of my life is becoming too permanent, and I would have registered Pluto, had it still been possible.  But it is not possible any longer:  My wife has reported to my supervisor in a light conversational tone that we have already owned the animal for three years, that it has grown up with the family, inseparable from the children—and similar banter, which makes it impossible for me to register Pluto now.

In vain do I try to subdue my inner heartache by doubling my diligence at work: it does not help: I have fallen into a situation from where, it appears to me, there is no possible way out.  Although one should not muzzle the ox while he is threshing, I do not know whether my supervisor has a sufficiently flexible spirit that he would let the Bible prevail.  I am doomed, and some will consider me a cynic, but how could I have not become one, where I deal with dogs all the time …

Heinrich Boell No. 1

For my Translation Theory class, I have to translate two short pieces by Heinrich Boell into English.  Due tomorrow---which is why I'm still up, and which is why the translations are pretty lame (I may have done better if I had more time, etc.).  At any rate, I just finished the first one, so I'm posting it as my blog tonight:
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AT THE BRIDGE

They have patched my leg and given me a job where I can sit:  I count the people who cross the new bridge on foot.  It amuses them to prove their efficiency to themselves with numbers, they intoxicate themselves with this senseless nothing made of a couple of digits, and my mute mouth moves all day, all day like clockwork in piling number upon number in order to present them with the triumph of a figure in the evenings.  Their faces shine when I share the result of my shift with them, the higher the figure, the more they shine, and they have good reason to go satisfied to bed, because many thousands cross their new bridge on foot every day …

But their statistics do not add up.  I am sorry, but they do not add up.  I am an unreliable man, though I know how to give the impression that I am honest.

It is my secret pleasure to sometimes hold back one and then again, when I feel sorry for them, give them a couple as gifts.  Their happiness is in my hands.  When I am angry, when I have nothing to smoke, I post only the average, sometimes below the average, and when my heart is full, when I am merry, I let my generosity flow into a five-digit figure.  They are so happy!  They tear the results every time out of my hand, and their eyes light up, and they pat me on the back.  They do not suspect a thing!  And then they start multiplying, dividing, calculating percentages of I do not know what.  They calculate how many cross the bridge on foot each minute today and how many will have crossed the bridge on foot in ten years.  They love the future perfect, the future perfect is their specialty—and yet, I’m sorry that none of it adds up …

When my love comes walking across the bridge—and she comes twice a day—my heart simply stands still.  The tireless ticking of my heart simply stops until she has turned into the alley and disappeared.  And I keep everyone who passes during this time secret from them.  These two minutes belong to me, only to me, and I do not let them be taken from me.  And also when she comes back from her ice-cream parlor in the evenings—when she, on the other sidewalk, passes my mute mouth that must count, count, my heart stops again, and I only start counting again when she cannot be seen any longer.  And anyone who has the good luck of marching in front of my unseeing eyes during these minutes does not go into the eternity of the statistics: shadow men and shadow women, void beings who will not march along into the future perfect of the statistics …

It is clear that I love her.  But she does not know anything about it, and I also do not want her to find out.  She should not suspect to what monstrous extent she messes up all calculations, and she should march unsuspecting and innocent with her long brown hair and her delicate feet into her ice-cream parlor, and she should get a lot of tips.  I love her.  It is completely clear that I love her.

Recently, they monitored me.  My buddy who sits on the other side and has to count cars warned me early enough, and I watched out like hell.  I counted like a madman, not even an odometer can count better.  The chief statistician himself took up position over there on the other side and later compared the result of an hour with my hourly records.  I had only one fewer than him.  My love had walked by, and not on my life will I let this handsome kid be transposed into the future perfect, this love of mine shall not be be multiplied and divided and converted into a percentage of nothing.  My heart bled that I had to count instead of watching her, and I was very grateful to my buddy over there who has to count the cars.  It was about my livelihood.

The chief statistician patted me on the back and said that I am good, reliable, and trustworthy.  “One miscounted in an hour,” he said, “does not matter much.  We add a certain percentage of error anyway.  I will move that you be transferred to the horse-drawn carriages.”

Horse-drawn carriages is, of course, the scam.  Horse-drawn carriages is a springtime like never before.  There are at most twenty-five horse-drawn carriages a day, and to let the next number fall into the brain every half hour, that is a springtime!

Horse-drawn carriages would be splendid.   Between four and eight, horse-drawn carriages are not allowed on the bridge at all, and I could go for a stroll or to the ice-cream parlor, could look at her for a long time or maybe walk her part of the way home, my uncounted love …

Poems by Jim, no. 6

Sunday.  The sixth of Jim's poems that I was going to post:
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A Poem from the Edge of America

By JamesGalvin

There are ways of finding things, like stumbling on them.

Or knowing what you’re looking for.

A miss is as good as a mile.

There are ways to put the mind at ease, like dying,

But first you have to find a place to lie down.

Once, in another life, I was a boy in Wyoming.

I called freedom home.

I had walked a long time into a high valley.

A river ran through it. It was late,

And I was looking for a place to lie down,

Which didn’t keep me from stumbling

On something, believe me, I never wanted to find.

It was only the skeleton of someone’s horse,

Saddled and bridled and tied to a tree.

When I woke in the morning it was next to me.

The rider must have wandered off, got turned around

And lost. It must have been winter.

The horse starved by the tree.

When we say, what a shame, whose shame do we mean?

In earnest of stability water often rages,

But rivers find their banks again, in earnest of the sea.

This ocean I live on can’t hold still.

I want to go home to Wyoming and lie down

Like that river I remember with a valley to flow in,

The ocean half a continent away.

The horse I spoke of isn’t a reason,

Although it might be why.

Poems by Jim, No. 5

Saturday afternoon:  This is what I'm reading.  I'll spend three weeks taking a class from Jim this summer again  :)
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Fragments Written While Traveling Through a Midwestern Heat Wave

By JamesGalvin

1.

However lonely we were before

Becomes unclear

In our next loneliness.

All summer long the rain

Stayed west of the mountains.

2.

Underneath this landscape of sighs,

Is a landscape of feathers,

One of blood, and yes,

A landscape of earth and trees and sky.

The soil of Oklahoma

Is leaving again.

Heaven is west of where it falls.

3.

Down here in the level world

Oil rigs make love

To the earth beneath the wheat.

All afternoon the wind blows hot.

The river is a piece of dirty string.

Like huge somnambulating farmers,

Dust-devils work the fallow ground.

4.

The real farmers

Disk their fields on tractors

With hopeful yellow umbrellas

And raise white flags of surrender

Which keep the flying ants

From swarming near their faces.

5.

I’ll tell you what the soul is made of:

More dust.

Behind each harrow

In each field

A plume takes to the wind.

The farmers,

At last,

Are freeing themselves

By setting free the soil.

Poems by Jim, No. 4

Before getting on the highway to get my daughter for the weekend:
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Practice

By JamesGalvin

The world arrived

so carefully packed

in time,

in time to open,

it could have been

God's parachute.

We booby-trapped it.

God, you will remember

from the Old Testament,

was a terrorist.

Now He's a generalization.

We've taken to scaring ourselves.

We scare the ozone layer.

But today, still spinning

around the world's axis,

which is imaginary,

I was permitted to walk home

again through writhing spring.

Leafy things and flowers

in earnest everywhere,

ignoring fear.

If it was anything

it was a garden.

Then, by the gymnasium

I saw a girl

in a green leotard with long sleeves.

She wasn't just any girl,

she was a dancer,

which is to say only

she didn't regret her body.

She moved in it

and it moved.

She spun herself around.

She wasn't dancing, exactly,

more like she was practicing a dance,

getting the moves right,

which moved me

even more.

Sure I wanted her,

but I stood quietly

as she practiced dancing

alone, without music,

and then I continued on.

It wouldn't have been a good thing

to interrupt that solitude,

identical with her body,

or risk frightening her

with speech.

Poems by Jim No. 3

A third poem by Jim.  See what I'm excited about?  :)
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I Looked for Life and Did a Shadow See

By James Galvin

Some little splinter

Of shadow purls

And weals down

The slewed stone

Chapel steps,

Slinks along

The riverrock wall

and disappears

Into the light.

Now ropy, riffled,

Now owlish, sere,

It smolders back

To sight beneath

A dwarfish, brindled tree

That chimes and sifts

And resurrects

In something’s sweet

And lethal breath.

This little shadow

Seems to know

(How can it know?

How can it not?)

Just when to flinch

Just where to loop and sag

And skitter down,

Just what to squirrel

And what to squander till

The light it lacks

Bleeds it back

And finds

My sleeping dark-haired girl—

O personal,

Impersonal,

Continual thrall—

And hammocks blue

In the hollows of her eyes.

Another poem by Jim

Here.  I'm looking forward to this so much  :)
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Testimony

By JamesGalvin

You can't step into the same

River even once,

And why would you want to? You can't

Lie down without turning your back

On someone. The sun slips

Like butter in a pan.

The eastern sky arrives

On the back stoop in its dark

Suit. It draws itself up

Full height to present its double

Rainbow like an armful of flowers.

Thank you, they're lovely.

I step outside where the wind

Lifts my hair and it's just

Beginning to rain in the sun,

And the earth silvers like a river

We're in, I swear to God,

And you can't step out of a river

Either. Not once.

A poem by Jim

Here's where I'm going next month  :)
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Promises Are for Liars 

By James Galvin

Because, you know,
Either you're going
To do it or
You're not.
Slight as light
Reflected from the stream
Onto the wavering
Willow leaves,
Eternal love
Doesn't need
Eternity, see?
A cyclone of sand-
Hill cranes
Rises from the corn
Slathering the
Ephemeral work.
Let's don't worry.
Let's don't ask.
Our institutions
Are standing by.
But I keep thinking
How easy it is
To get lost in the sky
With nothing holy
To defend.

Iowa!

Because I was doing the reading log twice a day, I forgot to post this:  I'm going back to Iowa again this summer!  For the third year in a row  :)  I'll take the Poetry Workshop with Jim during May 20--June 7.

So I'll post some poetry by Jim this week.  Starting tomorrow  :)

Sestinas

I wasn't going to write at all today, but I read this blog and wanted to post it:  http://www.poetryfoundation.org/harriet/2013/04/why-write-sestinas/ (and here's John Ashbery's sestina:  http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/177258 ).  More tomorrow (or later)---

End of story :)

Okay, let's see what's in the last chapter:
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4:15 p.m.  And this is just four pages!  The very thick novel is actually very light reading, as long as it's read chapter by chapter  :)

4:16 p.m.  Okay, so this is the "lived happily ever after" chapter.

4:18 p.m.  Actually, it's more than that:  It tells what each of the main characters became when they grew up.  Some movies do this.

4:24 p.m.  Done.  I don't know when I'll blog again, but it definitely won't be before tomorrow  :)

Finishing today :)

This morning, the penultimate chapter  :)

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11:22 a.m.  Chapter 60:  Just five pages!

11:23 a.m.  More recap, this time of internal action.  Of Darcy.

11:25 a.m.  Only partially reported by Darcy.  Now Elizabeth's telling him what the matter is with him  :)

11:26 a.m.  And now the exact same's happening to Elizabeth.  I admired the transition---it melts in your mouth  :)

11:28 a.m.  And now the paradox is spelt out that they very likely wouldn't have hooked up, had it not been for the comedy crew.

11:32 a.m.  Letter starts midchapter.  

11:33 a.m.  And the letter, of course, is yet *another* recap.  Inside a recap chapter. 

11: 37 a.m.  Done.  One more chapter (tonight)---

Long sleep morning

I woke up late this morning and, as a result, had no time to read before teaching.  Here's the next chapter:
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3:17 p.m.  Chapter 59:  Seven pages.

3:17 p.m.  At least this chapter shouldn't take long.

3:23 p.m.  Middle of chapter.  Delightfully written, but not knocking my socks off.  I must be really sleepy right now.

3:28 p.m.  Oh, here's the famous scene of Elizabeth telling Mr. Bennet how Darcy arranged Lydia's marriage.  So *that's* what's in this chapter.  I've seen drawings of this before!

3:33 p.m.  Done.  If I stay late tonight and have nothing else to do, then I'll read another chapter tonight; if not, then I'll read again tomorrow.

Long, long day

It's after seven now.  Let's see this chapter:
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7:17 p.m.  And it's seven pages.

7:18 p.m.  Darcy visits---earlier than Elizabeth expects him to visit, again---and everyone goes for a walk.

7:21 p.m.  Mary and her mother stay home, so five start walking.  Bingley and Jane walk another walk  :) so now there are three.

7:27 p.m.  I'm simultaneously talking to my students, which is why I'm reading slower  :)  Kitty left.  A now-or-never moment?

7:32 p.m.  Elizabeth thanks him for helping Lydia.  That's a very slow opening, like 1. c4 or something ...

7:35 p.m.  And Darcy speeds it up by coming straight to the point  :)

7:36 p.m.  And Elizabeth accepts his proposal ... but in indirect speech.  It's as though Austen undercuts every single thing she writes in this book  :)

7:39 p.m.  It ends well---but only because of Lady Catherine, who wanted it to end differently.  See what I mean?

7:49 p.m.  Now we are in recap time.  If anyone ever wants a quick summary of the whole book:  read the last four chapters and you'd be golden  :)

7:53 p.m.  Done.  More in the morning.

Cats and dogs

I don't mean my business idea of inventing bacon made from cats and dogs, but rather this morning's rain.

Here's the chapter:
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8:57 a.m.  Chapter 57.  Five pages.

8:58 a.m.  Elizabeth, like me, wonders where Lady Catherine heard about her and Darcy in the first place.

9:03 a.m.  Collins.  Again  :)

9:04 a.m.  And we'll actually read Collins' letter  :)  I'm looking forward to this!

9:07 a.m.  "Olive branch" means that too?  I had no idea!

9:08 a.m.  Done.  More after classes ...  On Mondays and Thursdays, "after classes" means "after 5:45 p.m."  :(

Afternoon chapter

Rain, etc.  This chapter:
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4:23 p.m.  Chapter 56:  Seven pages.

4:24 p.m.  Chapter 56?  That means there are only five more chapters after this  :)

4:24 p.m.  So I'll go smoke, then start reading when I return.

4:32 p.m.  Back.  Let's start:

4:35 p.m.  Lady Catherine!  Chapter of high comedy?  :)

4:35 p.m.  Especially because she's in the same room as Mrs. Bennet---the clash of the clowns  :)

4:39 p.m.  Fight, actually!  I didn't see this coming  :)

4:45 p.m.  It was high drama instead of high comedy  :)  More tomorrow morning.

Falling ill

All these early morning classes are making me ill.  Today, for example, I don't even have a class, and I woke up on my own, but I'm already awake before 3 p.m.!

Fortunately, so far it has never taken me long to recover my usual sleeping schedule in the summers.  I'm looking forward to summer  :)  Here's this morning's chapter:

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2:07 p.m.  Chapter XIII of volume III:  Seven pages.

2:09 p.m.  Darcy's left  :(  Bingley comes alone for a visit.

2:12 p.m.  Actually, Bingley's coming for a visit every day now.  Mornings to nights.

2:15 p.m.  Jane and Bingley are engaged.

2:21 p.m.  Done.  There's more to come in the afternoon--- 

Sun in the afternoon

A couple of hours of pretend spring  :)  This afternoon's chapter:
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4:35 p.m.  Chapter 54:  Five pages.

4:35 p.m.  It's hard to believe I've read that much!  But let's start now:

4:38 p.m.  Austen means business:  Cuts straight to the dinner after the first page.  Bingley sits with Jane.

4:40 p.m.  And Darcy by Mrs. Bennet  :(

4:41 p.m.  And Elizabeth's impatient, &c.

4:45 p.m.  Last sentence of the chapter:  Elizabeth asks Jane to stop persisting "in indifference" already  :)  Because that was the reason why Darcy'd asked Bingley to give up on Jane, &c.  We'll see what news the morrow brings  :)

Read it fast

Class in 35 minutes.---
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8:50 a.m.  Chapter 53 is eight pages long.

8:51 a.m.  Having performed their function (of telling Elizabeth about Darcy), Lydia and Wickham leave.

8:53 a.m.  And Bingley's coming to town.

8:57 a.m.  He's here at exactly the middle of the chapter.  Is more going to happen this morning, then?

8:58 a.m.  He visits before he's expected.  Following the pattern established earlier this volume, etc.

8:59 a.m.  And Darcy's with him  :)

9:07 a.m.  They will dine at Longbourn "in a few days time".  Done (more after classes).

Happy afternoon

So in three classes this afternoon, I got back four papers, with full scores on every paper  :)  The question is: Will this make me slack off for the next couple of weeks, or will it make me work harder?

Okay, I'm done bragging, let's see what happens in this chapter:
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6:15 p.m.  Eight pages.

6:16 p.m.  Elizabeth gets the reply right away.  Fits the general pattern of faster pace in this volume ...

6:19 p.m.  ... and she's finding out already what Darcy did  :)

6:28 p.m.  Wickham walks right into Mrs. Gardiner's letter!  Talk about small dramatic moments  :)

6:31 p.m.  And he talks of Darcy!

6:32 p.m.  Done.  More tomorrow---

Early morning

I'm up this early because I still have a lot of stuff to finish before teaching at 10:50 a.m.  This chapter:
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8:15 a.m.  Chapter 51.  Six pages.

8:16 a.m.  Austen makes Lydia enter the house in slow motion (kind of).

8:18 a.m.  And Elizabeth's thinking, "Impudence."  Nice contrast with vol. I.

8:22 a.m.  The characters Lydia and Mrs. Bennet diverge sharper than before from Elizabeth (and Jane) now.  They are becoming more than comic relief.

8:28 a.m.  This, too, serves a purpose:  Lydia lets Elizabeth know Darcy was there at the wedding.

8:31 a.m.  And Elizabeth sets to work trying to find out, and that's the narrative's progress.  We see again that the action is all in Elizabeth's head (in this chapter, the action is what she accidentally finds out, and how she's trying to find out more).  Done  :)  More after classes---

Wrapping up

If I keep reading twice a day, I'll be done with the book next weekend  :)  Here's the next chapter:

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4:41 p.m.  Chapter 50:  Six pages.

4:44 p.m.  Brief history of Mr. and Mrs. Bennet.

4:47 p.m.  Mrs. Bennet, again  :)

4:50 p.m.  Much of the action happens inside Elizabeth's head in this book.

4:53 p.m.  Another letter, &c.

4:55 p.m.  Done.  See?  It's easy to read  :)

Snow on Sunday

So when I woke up this morning---a little after noon---it was snowing again.  Yes, that's the middle of April in western Michigan ... let's look at this morning's chapter:
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1:48 p.m.  Chapter 49---chapter VII of the third (and final) volume--- is seven pages long.

1:50 p.m.  Letter from London---

1:54 p.m.  So the novel's beginning to close---problems start getting solved now.

1:59 p.m.  Mrs. Bennet's quite the life of the novel again  :)

2:01 p.m.  Done.  More after four---

Afterclass reading log

Okay, so now we know what Jane knows.  Let's see what happens next  :)
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6:30 p.m.  Chapter 48 is six pages long.

6:33 p.m.  Mr. Bennet (and now Mr Gardiner) continue in Holmes mode---checking every Hotel, just like Holmes did in "Baskervilles"  :)

6:36 p.m. Letter from Collins:

6:38 p.m.  He writes funny  :)

6:42 p.m.  Done (for today)---

Saturday morning chapter

It's Saturday morning, and ... I have class at 1:30 p.m.  Let's see how long this next chapter is:
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12:39 p.m.  Wow.  It's eleven pages.  That makes me a little nervous about whether I'll finish in time---if I have to leave in the middle of the chapter, then I'll read again from the beginning of the chapter when I return.  I'll smoke (because of the nervousness) and then start.

12:48 p.m.  Back.  Let's do this!

12:51 p.m.  I, too, wonder where Lydia and Wickham have vanished.

12:54 p.m.  I have a vague notion that Wickham's doing this in order to spite Darcy in some way ...

12:57 p.m.  ... or that Wickham's desperate enough to take whatever he can get.

1 p.m.  Mrs Bennet provides quick comic relief  :)

1:03 p.m.  Mary's good for comic relief as well!

1:09 p.m.  Mr. Bennet's trying to play Holmes in London?!  That, too, is comic to a certain extent!

1:10 p.m.  Done.  More after class  :)

Friday afternoon:

Let's see whether we skip to dinner at Pemberley now, or something else happens first  :)
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4:15 p.m.  Chapter 46 is eight pages long.

4:17 p.m.  Lydia elopes with Darcy!  Austen really worked on the pace for the last volume  :)

4:19 p.m.  A blast from the past---Gretna Green  :)

4:23 p.m.  And Darcy's right there  :)

4:26 p.m.  Darcy leaves the building.

4:32 p.m.  Done.  Now it must move swiftly  :)  More tomorrow.

Quick read before teaching

8:48 a.m.  I teach at 9:25 a.m.---this chapter better be short!

8:49 a.m.  Okay, five pages.

8:50 a.m.  Ah, yes, Miss Bingley will also be there at Pemberley.  Let's see how this goes---

8:51 a.m.  The seasons continue to perform their function as symbols, but now it's summer  :)

8:53 a.m.  I'm wondering whether Mrs. Annesley will have a significant function?

8:54 a.m.  Oh, Elizabeth---like me---is expecting Darcy to walk in  :)

8:54 a.m.  Which probably means he won't?

8:56 a.m.  Okay, Darcy does walk in  :)

8:58 a.m.  One of the relatively few things we learn directly from the narrator:  Miss Bingley doesn't know what happened between Miss Darcy and Wickham.

9:04 a.m.  Done.  Come to think of it, there isn't a good alternative method of narrating that something has *not* happened (other than the narrator telling it), is there?  More in the afternoon  :)

Right now it's reading a lot like Mills & Boon :)

But let's see whether there will be new conflict in this chapter:
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6:03 p.m.  Chapter 44:  Seven pages.

6:04 p.m.  Interesting how the pace has changed:  Now stuff keeps happening *earlier* than when Elizabeth expects it to happen.  Miss Darcy shows up---

6:07 p.m.  For the third time in the book, there's walking "up and down"  :)

6:09 p.m.  And people are "ready", "eager", and "determined to be pleased."  I stand corrected:  Austen's satirizing Mills & Boon  :)

6:17 p.m.  And the townsfolk reinforce the points on Darcy and Wickham.  A novel has great scope.

6:21 p.m.  Not only will they dine at Pemberley, they will visit Miss Darcy the following morning already.  What are the odds that they'll run into Darcy?  :)

6:23 p.m.  Done.  More tomorrow---

Final volume

Starting vol. III now:
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9:31 a.m.  Okay, the volume opens with a 12-page chapter.  So we are making up now for all those shorter chapters that we had earlier.

9:33 a.m.  Driving to Pemberley---

9:34 a.m.  And Elizabeth likes what she sees  :)

9:34 a.m.  I'm wondering whether they will run into Darcy anyway  :)

9:35 a.m.  And Elizabeth is wondering the exact same thing  :)

9:37 a.m.  Darcy isn't there, but he'll show up tomorrow.  Fingers crossed---

9:41 a.m.  Okay, Austen's developing Darcy's character in the dialog of Mrs. Reynolds, which I think is a master stroke.

9:45 a.m.  Darcy *is* here!  Weltuntergang  :)

9:51 a.m.  And Mr. Gardiner stops to admire trout  :)

9:56 a.m.  Darcy lets Elizabeth know he's told his sister about her.  The narrative doth progress at a gallop  :)

10 a.m. And Elizabeth defends Darcy (regarding the Wickham affair) to her aunt and uncle  :)

10:02 a.m.  Done.  More after classes---and I'm looking forward to it!

Finishing vol. II

So the pattern's this:  the first volume was Longbourn (and Netherfield, and Meryton), this volume added Hunsford (and Rosings), and the next volume will add Brighton?  That's fairly straightfoward:  The volumes expand geographically  :)
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5:39 p.m.  This last chapter of the volume is five pages long.

5:43 p.m.  I'd almost forgotten---trip to the Lakes with the uncle and the aunt  :)

5:46 p.m.  Okay, that vacation will be delayed, and will be short.

5:47 p.m.  They're actually going to Derbyshire.  Where Darcy has his house  :)

5:50 p.m.  Actually, Mrs Gardiner's from a town that's just five miles away from Pemberley.  I think I know where this is headed  :)

5:52 p.m.  Okay, they're going to Pemberley, but Darcy's not there?!  That defies all logic  :(  We'll see what happens tomorrow---

Reading in the rain

Penultimate chapter of the volume.  Hard to believe how much I've read, I usually avoid large books
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11:47 a.m.  It's depressing to be already up when the clock says "a.m."  :(

11:48 a.m.  The chapter is seven pages long.

11:49 a.m.  Lydia's going to Brighton  :(

11:53 a.m.  Mr. Bennet feels safe because Lydia's poor.  Let's just hope Wickham remembers that Lydia's poor  :)

11:58 a.m.  Elizabeth tells Wickham that she knows  :)

11:59 a.m.  And Wickham may or may not have understood.

12:01 p.m.  At least the clock says "p.m." now  :)  Done.  More in the afternoon---

The Lydia chapters?

This afternoon's reading.  Are these the chapters where Lydia gets into a mess with Wickham already?
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4:07 p.m.  Five pages.

4:08 p.m.  Okay, Elizabeth's telling Jane in this chapter.

4:12 p.m.  Okay, I'm still only in the middle of the chapter, but I find myself wondering exactly how desperate Wickham really is  :)

4:16 p.m.  Comic relief:  Mrs Bennet is "sure Jane will die of a broken heart"  :)

4:17 p.m.  Done.  More tomorrow---

Speed-reading this one

9:05 a.m.  Class in 20 minutes.

9:05 a.m.  The chapter's five pages long.

9:06 p.m.  Austen fast-forwarded London  :(

9:07 p.m.  Good:  Wickham's leaving.

9:09 a.m.  Wickham's broken up with Miss King.

9:14 a.m.  Done.  I wish I'd read faster, but she writes so beautifully <3  More in the afternoon---

What happens in London?

Let's see how the narrative moves in town:
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6:16 p.m.  Chapter 38 is just 3 pages  :(

6:17 p.m.  Frowny face because its brevity probably means Elizabeth doesn't hook up with Darcy in this chapter.

6:21 p.m.  Collins is a treasure where comedy is called for  :)  But he's now spent half my chapter telling Elizabeth what she missed out on when she denied his suit!

6:24 p.m.  A soliloquy yesterday, an aside today  :)

6:26 p.m.  Done.  No hookup  :(  How's this even a pre-Victorian novel?!  More tomorrow (maybe something will happen tomorrow)

Okay, morning

10:13 a.m.  Teaching at 10:50 a.m.  I hope this chapter's short.

10:14 a.m.  Yes, it's four pages  :)

10:15 a.m.  What melancholy scene?

10:17 a.m.  Elizabeth is going to town  :)

10:19 a.m.  Lady Catherine observes that neither of the two girls is "very large"  :)

10:20 a.m.  Elizabeth knows the letter by heart

10:23 a.m.Done.  Now for class (more in the afternoon)---

Afternoon chapter

Will Elizabeth actually go talk to Col. Fitzwilliam?  Let's read:
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4:39 p.m.  Chapter 36:  Five pages.

4:41 p.m.  And now---drumroll---Prejudice  :)

4:46 p.m.  So she won't ask the Colonel.  Fine.  But at least she's now in the know on the subject of Wickham  :)

4:50 p.m.  Soliloquy---in direct speech  :)

4:52 p.m.  Done.  Now to see how Austen decides to make everything better again  :)  To be continued tomorrow morning---

Unwind?

I think I see Austen's pattern now---she's built up a conflict for half the novel, and now she'll resolve it in the remaining chapters.  If that conjecture is correct, this chapter should be the first step towards das Happyend  :)
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1:25 p.m.  And this chapter's eight pages long.  Are, in general, the chapters going to be longer now, like summer days?

1:28 p.m.  Darcy walked the woods; Elizabeth, now having a clue  :)  avoided it.  But she gets the letter anyway  :)

1:37 p.m.  Halfway through Darcy's letter.  He's explained about Miss Bennet and Bingley, now he's starting Wickham's story.  Darcy's verbose, but otherwise he writes well.

1:43 p.m.  Darcy lays all his cards on the table.  Your turn now, Miss Elizabeth---

1:45 p.m.  Done, but now I'm looking forward to continuing in the afternoon  :)

Afternoon reading

Austen can be seriously heartless sometimes.  Let's see how much worse this has to get for Darcy  :(
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5:24 p.m.  Chapter 34 (chapter XI of the volume) is six pages long again.

5:26 p.m.  Elizabeth's alone in the house, and Darcy visits.  Again  :)

5:28 p.m.  And he makes his move.  Poor fool :'(

5:31 p.m.  Okay, she at least tells him one of her reasons.  That must count for something!

5:33 p.m.  The other reason, too!  Now the mystery is gone, from here forward the struggle shouldn't be uphill any longer  :)

5:38 p.m.  Done.  *Now* we're half of the way through the novel, even in terms of the story line  :)

Early log

This reading:
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7:49 a.m.  Chapter X of the second volume is six pages long.

7:50 a.m.  Now Austen's playing a joke on Elizabeth---Elizabeth tells Darcy that she likes to walk in the park, and is afterwards puzzled by how often she runs into Darcy in the park  ;)

7:56 a.m.  Revelation  :)  Unfortunately, Elizabeth will hold this against Darcy (I think)

8:01 a.m.  Done.  *Now* Darcy's in trouble  :(  More in the afternoon---

Half done

By which I don't just mean "well begun is half done," what I read this morning was, in fact, chapter 31, so I'm now actually done with more than half of the 61 chapters  :)  Here's the next one:
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6:30 p.m.  Five pages again  :)  Is Austen setting us up for 83-page chapters towards the end?

6:31 p.m.  Elizabeth and Darcy alone in the house  :)  I'm not going to believe a word the narrator says about what they supposedly don't do, I'll just believe my mind's eye  ;)

6:37 p.m.  Okay, so Darcy's now stopping by every morning  ;)

6:40 a.m.  Done.  Something might happen in this volume after all  :)  More tomorrow---

About poetry

Here's something interesting I read yesterday and today.

And here's the next chapter:
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8:25 a.m.  Teaching in exactly an hour.  I hope the chapter's short!

8:26 a.m.  Actually, it's five pages long.  I'll live  :)

8:27 a.m.  "Any thing was a welcome relief to him (Fitzwilliam) at Rosings"  :)

8:32 a.m.  The point!---"We neither of us perform to strangers"  :)

8:34 a.m.  Done.  I'm feeling hopeful  :)

Next chapter

To be frank, I'm a little disappointed that the last chapter didn't at all help correct Elizabeth's two misreadings (one of Darcy, the other of Wickham)  :(  but then, this is a novel, it has a different pace.  Moving on:
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5:58 p.m.  Chapter 30 is four pages long.

5:58 p.m.  Which probably means this chapter, too, won't go far towards helping things  :(

6:01 p.m.  Charlotte's smart in her own way  :)  But Collins reads and writes?!  :)

6:03 p.m.  Okay, everyday life at Hunsford.

6:05 p.m.  Yes!  Darcy will visit  :)

6:07 p.m.  And he's here already!  Now can we please get the story going?  :)

6:09 p.m.  Done.  Crossing my fingers for tomorrow's chapters  :)

Morning instalment

Are we eating with aristocracy this chapter?  Let's see  :)

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9:05 a.m.  Seven pages.

9:08 a.m.  Collins enumerates the windows in front of the house  :)

9:11 a.m.  Nonverbals  :)  But she's thinking of Wickham again  :(

9:18 a.m.  The cassino table was "superlatively stupid"  :)

9:20 a.m.  Done.  Comedy is fun  :)  But when will the main narrative move again?  

More in the evening---

Hunsford?

Will stuff happen at Hunsford this chapter?  I'm curious  :)
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4:19 p.m.  Chapter 28's just four pages again!

4:20 p.m.  Or will this just be Elizabeth's stream of consciousness during the ride?  Remember, it's a novel, Austen's got enough room for whatever she wants  :)

4:23 p.m.  It's not the ride.  But Collins points out "the neatness of the entrance," just as Tom praised his own house in the first chapter of "Gatsby"  :)

4:30 p.m.  Done.  Okay, so now she's built up much towards the dinner at Rosings the next day ... either that's where this volume will really start, or she's setting us up for an anticlimax  :)  We'll find out tomorrow---

Working quickly

10:32 a.m.  I have to be at a meeting in 28 minutes, but this next chapter's just 4 pages, so here goes:

10:33 a.m.  Okay, January and February got fast-forwarded in the first sentence  :)

10: 35 a.m.  Absence increases desire and weakens disgust?!  Oh well, this is fiction---

10:37 a.m.  Wickham  :(  but at least he will be away from her when she's at Hunsford.

10:39 a.m.  "... the evening at one of the theatres!"  I still think Austen's making up this stuff on purpose---it's all designed to tell the reader who to like, etc.

10: 43 a.m.  Arguing in the theatre---Does that count as a play-within-a-play?  :)

10:45 a.m.  Done.  This morning I'm amazed how much Austen can get done within four pages.  After writing this chapter, she should have written short stories, and then short-shorts, and then poetry  :)

Evening, reading

Another evening, another chapter.  Here goes:
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7:44 p.m.  This one's seven pages long.

7:45 p.m.  Finally, Mrs. Gardiner does speak her mind about Wickham to Elizabeth.

7:47 p.m.  Oh, and is this also the chapter of Miss Lucas' and Mr. Collins' wedding?

7:48 p.m.  I only realized just now that both their names end in the letter s, so the genitive inflection looks really interesting visually  :)

7:52 p.m.  Epistolary passage---dialog is best, but a letter, too, is better than narration  :)

7:58 p.m.  Good tidings---Wickham's diverted  :)

7:59 p.m.  Done.  More tomorrow---

Reading log before classes

Here's this morning's chapter:
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8 a.m.  Chapter 25 (chapter II of the second volume) is five pages long.

8:02 a.m.  Another recap, this time related by Mrs. Bennet to Mrs. Gardiner, who is visiting for Christmas  :)  A large format, such as a novel, has enough room for narrating the same event from different points of view, which has two effects:  first, that it serves to develop the different narrators' characters; second, that it offers the reader different readings of the multiply narrated event, like an object in cubist art.

8:07 a.m.  Finally!  Someone who would "speak to Elizabeth on the subject (of Wickham)."

8:09 a.m.  Done.  So Jane is going to town  :)  More in the afternoon---

Volume two

Starting now:
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6 p.m.  Six pages.

6:01 p.m.  So it's winter.

6:03 p.m.  Recap, longer than a whole page.  That must be how you write in large formats, such as novels.

6:07 p.m.  It's amazing how much of the novel is written in abstractions  :(

6:11 p.m.  The conversation's of Wickham again  :(

6:12 p.m.  Done.  So is the whole volume to be a Wickham winter?  :(

Finishing volume one

So this reading log's the last chapter of the first of three volumes:
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3:16 p.m.  Now that's more like it:  I'm reading the morning's chapter at 3:16 p.m.  :)

3:17 p.m.  Chapter XXIII is five pages long.

3:18 p.m.  Yes!  This will be Mrs. Bennet's reaction to the engagement of Mr. Collins and Miss Lucas  :)

3:20 p.m.  And the reaction lasts "many months"  :)  Comedy, applied to fast forward!

3:27 p.m.  The rest of the chapter is describing what else is taking place during the fast forward, but here's a gem in closing:  That Mr. Bennet may be the survivor was not very consoling to Mrs. Bennet  :)

3:29 p.m.  Done  :)  Will start the next volume later today---