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Leisure
Ahh, long weekend, stuck inside waiting for the Water Meter Man to move my water meter. ('Our first available morning appointment is July 30' because it's the Saturday of a long weekend, a fact that didn't occur to me back in mid-June.) No matter. I have The Rivers of London and 100 Demons 20, which arrived yesterday a week ahead of expectation: thank you Escargot Canada and not-yet-o-Bon-ified Japan PO.
100 Demons feels strangely like an artifact from another lifetime ie last November when I was, evidently, someone else. Have had a small anxiety lately about whether I can still read Japanese (literally, can I read it; and psychically, will I understand it even if I do?) Yes, it seems, I can, though I'm getting resigned to the 'use it or lose it'-ness of Japanese, and the need for constant visual reinforcement to stop kanji and vocab that I've known for decades from vanishing from the memory banks. Also that certain sentences in Ima Ichiko will make no sense at all on a first, second or even third reading-- but that's a given of Ima Ichiko's.
So now I'm wondering if it's worth taking that Chinese course I had my eye on for this fall. Should I finally accept the fact that my brain is not wired for other scripts, just as it's certain that my ear is not wired to tones and pitches? (At all. At all.) And go learn French properly instead? Or stick to English for the rest of my days?
And if I stick to English, and Holmes pastiche, do I want to read a series of books about Irene Adler and her truly dreadfully wet personal Watson figure? I rather think not, but I have two of them anyway.
100 Demons feels strangely like an artifact from another lifetime ie last November when I was, evidently, someone else. Have had a small anxiety lately about whether I can still read Japanese (literally, can I read it; and psychically, will I understand it even if I do?) Yes, it seems, I can, though I'm getting resigned to the 'use it or lose it'-ness of Japanese, and the need for constant visual reinforcement to stop kanji and vocab that I've known for decades from vanishing from the memory banks. Also that certain sentences in Ima Ichiko will make no sense at all on a first, second or even third reading-- but that's a given of Ima Ichiko's.
So now I'm wondering if it's worth taking that Chinese course I had my eye on for this fall. Should I finally accept the fact that my brain is not wired for other scripts, just as it's certain that my ear is not wired to tones and pitches? (At all. At all.) And go learn French properly instead? Or stick to English for the rest of my days?
And if I stick to English, and Holmes pastiche, do I want to read a series of books about Irene Adler and her truly dreadfully wet personal Watson figure? I rather think not, but I have two of them anyway.
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Oh god. (buries face in hands) Yes, rather. Life inside the language envelope is so different from life outside. And you think it's inside you, that the language has taken hold, but it hasn't.
Reading French is a chore. All a matter of vocabulary I think I ought to know but don't. B-D aside, there actually isn't that much I want to read. But I'd like to be able to speak (and *hear*) it easily again. Chinese OTOH is a case of everyone wanting to teach me to speak-- an impossible task-- and me wanting to read. Self-teaching didn't work too well last time-- it never does for me. I need outside discipline. So yeah, I dunno. Maybe that online course in being a translator instead? Big bucks, probably lotsa work, but not something I've ever done before.
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