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Apr. 13th, 2006 02:32 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
adelineLost 2x19 - SOS.
- Whoa Rose, total party pooper there. But I did think take-charge Bernard had Leslie Arzt written all over him, so maybe that's not so bad, I guess. Not that I'd miss Bernard terribly, were he to perish in an untimely fashion.
- Whoa Claire, shrieking at Bernard with that aggressive accent. I almost covered my ears.
- Aw, Sawyer misses Jack. It's so obvious. Cute. His reaction to Jack not needing him read nothing but wtf?ohnoes!;__; And hee, "Dr. Giggles!" Jamie's got a crush. *g*
- Locke out of the hatch, now there was a surprise. So, now it's not his button, but is it still HIS hatch? Hmm. Anyhow, I appreciated that scene with Rose - would've liked it more if she hadn't been so condescending, though.
- Oooh! I actually did track down a piece of Lost-featured literature! *proudgeek* The poem in the book Locke drew the map on at the end was Sur Les Débuts de Mesdemoiselles Rachel et Pauline Garcia, written in 1839 by Alfred de Musset (French playwright/poet) and published in the collection Poésies Nouvelles as early as the year 1905, possibly earlier. I'll post the full text below, couple interesting lines about two newborn children.
- What's with the wet hair Charlie? And Bernard? Eko? 0mgz!!Did it rain off screen? :-o *iztehshockt* It's got to be a first. Also, Charlie is such a manslut. Poor Sayid, get his heart broken again. :(
- Jack and Kate, I have to admit, I thought were adorably cute. Ugh. But they weeere. Sweetness all around.
- Plus, wet crazy!Jack, well... heeeeee!! ♥
- End montage, syrupy much? Eh. Don't know why, but I kinda liked that it was Locke picking out that record. Maybe it gave me a sense that he was more or less back to his old zen master self or something. But holy beejeebus Sawyer, STAY AWAY FROM THE DOG OF DOOM!!!1
- Next week: more Jack/Sawyer power struggle, yay! And you go, Henry, you go and kill Ana-Lucia, KILL HER DEAD!! Mwahahahaaa! Or die. Or both.
So, now, that Musset poem. (Not translating it, not today, probably not myself either. Tee-hee.)
SUR LES DÉBUTS DE MESDEMOISELLES RACHEL ET PAULINE GARCIA
Ainsi donc, quoi qu'on dise, elle ne tarit pas,
La source immortelle et féconde
Que le coursier divin fit jaillir sous ses pas;
Elle existe toujours, cette sève du monde,
Elle coule, et les dieux sont encore ici-bas!
A quoi nous servent donc tant de luttes frivoles,
Tant d'efforts toujours vains et toujours renaissants?
Un chaos si pompeux d'inutiles paroles,
Et tant marteaux impuissants
Frappant les anciennes idoles?
Discourons sur les arts, faisons les connaisseurs;
Nous aurons beau changer d'erreurs
Comme un libertin de maîtresse,
Les lilas au printemps seront toujours en fleurs,
Et les arts immortels rajeuniront sans cesse.
Discutons nos travers, nos rêves et nos goûts,
Comparons à loisir le moderne et l'antique,
Et ferraillons sous ces drapeaux jaloux!
Quand nous serons au bout de notre rhétorique,
Deux enfants nés d'hier en sauront plus que nous.
Ô jeunes coeurs remplis d'antique poésie,
Soyez les bienvenus, enfants chéris des dieux
Vous avez le même âge et le même génie.
La douce clarté soit bénie
Que vous ramenez dans nos yeux!
Allez! que le bonheur vous suive!
Ce n'est pas du hasard un caprice inconstant
Qui vous fit naître au même instant.
Votre mère ici-bas, c'est la Muse attentive
Qui sur le feu sacré veille éternellement.
Obéissez sans crainte au dieu qui vous inspire.
Ignorez, s'il se peut, que nous parlons de vous.
Ces plaintes, ces accords, ces pleurs, ce doux sourire,
Tous vos trésors, donnez-les-nous
Chantez enfants, laissez-nous dire.
1839.
- Whoa Rose, total party pooper there. But I did think take-charge Bernard had Leslie Arzt written all over him, so maybe that's not so bad, I guess. Not that I'd miss Bernard terribly, were he to perish in an untimely fashion.
- Whoa Claire, shrieking at Bernard with that aggressive accent. I almost covered my ears.
- Aw, Sawyer misses Jack. It's so obvious. Cute. His reaction to Jack not needing him read nothing but wtf?ohnoes!;__; And hee, "Dr. Giggles!" Jamie's got a crush. *g*
- Locke out of the hatch, now there was a surprise. So, now it's not his button, but is it still HIS hatch? Hmm. Anyhow, I appreciated that scene with Rose - would've liked it more if she hadn't been so condescending, though.
- Oooh! I actually did track down a piece of Lost-featured literature! *
- What's with the wet hair Charlie? And Bernard? Eko? 0mgz!!Did it rain off screen? :-o *iztehshockt* It's got to be a first. Also, Charlie is such a manslut. Poor Sayid, get his heart broken again. :(
- Jack and Kate, I have to admit, I thought were adorably cute. Ugh. But they weeere. Sweetness all around.
- Plus, wet crazy!Jack, well... heeeeee!! ♥
- End montage, syrupy much? Eh. Don't know why, but I kinda liked that it was Locke picking out that record. Maybe it gave me a sense that he was more or less back to his old zen master self or something. But holy beejeebus Sawyer, STAY AWAY FROM THE DOG OF DOOM!!!1
- Next week: more Jack/Sawyer power struggle, yay! And you go, Henry, you go and kill Ana-Lucia, KILL HER DEAD!! Mwahahahaaa! Or die. Or both.
So, now, that Musset poem. (Not translating it, not today, probably not myself either. Tee-hee.)
SUR LES DÉBUTS DE MESDEMOISELLES RACHEL ET PAULINE GARCIA
Ainsi donc, quoi qu'on dise, elle ne tarit pas,
La source immortelle et féconde
Que le coursier divin fit jaillir sous ses pas;
Elle existe toujours, cette sève du monde,
Elle coule, et les dieux sont encore ici-bas!
A quoi nous servent donc tant de luttes frivoles,
Tant d'efforts toujours vains et toujours renaissants?
Un chaos si pompeux d'inutiles paroles,
Et tant marteaux impuissants
Frappant les anciennes idoles?
Discourons sur les arts, faisons les connaisseurs;
Nous aurons beau changer d'erreurs
Comme un libertin de maîtresse,
Les lilas au printemps seront toujours en fleurs,
Et les arts immortels rajeuniront sans cesse.
Discutons nos travers, nos rêves et nos goûts,
Comparons à loisir le moderne et l'antique,
Et ferraillons sous ces drapeaux jaloux!
Quand nous serons au bout de notre rhétorique,
Deux enfants nés d'hier en sauront plus que nous.
Ô jeunes coeurs remplis d'antique poésie,
Soyez les bienvenus, enfants chéris des dieux
Vous avez le même âge et le même génie.
La douce clarté soit bénie
Que vous ramenez dans nos yeux!
Allez! que le bonheur vous suive!
Ce n'est pas du hasard un caprice inconstant
Qui vous fit naître au même instant.
Votre mère ici-bas, c'est la Muse attentive
Qui sur le feu sacré veille éternellement.
Obéissez sans crainte au dieu qui vous inspire.
Ignorez, s'il se peut, que nous parlons de vous.
Ces plaintes, ces accords, ces pleurs, ce doux sourire,
Tous vos trésors, donnez-les-nous
Chantez enfants, laissez-nous dire.
1839.
