A jazz libretto.A Geraldine The feminine form of the first name Gerald. Famous women named Geraldine include:
& Lillian Lillian can refer to:
1 City (1990 pop. 37,446), seat of Jackson co., S Mich., on the Grand River; inc. 1857. It is an industrial and commercial center in a farm region. (1937-1995): Two Dreamers of Beauty & Her Excellency Ex·cel·len·cy n. pl. Ex·cel·len·cies Abbr. Exc. Used with His, Her, or Your as a title and form of address for certain high officials, such as viceroys, ambassadors, and governors. Adrienne Clarkson Adrienne Louise Clarkson (née Poy) (Chinese: 伍冰枝; Pinyin: Wǔ Bīngzhī , Governor-General gov·er·nor-gen·er·al n. pl. gov·er·nors-gen·er·al or gov·er·nor-gen·er·als A governor of a large territory who has other subordinate governors under his or her jurisdiction. of Canada Canada (kăn`ədə), independent nation (2001 pop. 30,007,094), 3,851,787 sq mi (9,976,128 sq km), N North America. Canada occupies all of North America N of the United States (and E of Alaska) except for Greenland and the French islands of Ce qui n'est pas beau a tort tort, in law, the violation of some duty clearly set by law, not by a specific agreement between two parties, as in breach of contract. When such a duty is breached, the injured party has the right to institute suit for compensatory damages. d'etre; La beaute n'aime que la beaute.... La beaute est la seule chose qui n 'existe pas a demi. * Hugo HUGO - A bytecode-interpreted transaction handler from Geac. Poetry should waft, swaft, over obstacles of paper, Until pages falter, fold, dissolve A Web site design technique borrowed from the film and video industry in which the transition between two Web pages is represented visually by one page fading into another. Also known as a "soft cut," the result is achieved in the HTML coding of the images to gradual pre-determined , and resolve into verse-Whatever you're you're Contraction of you are. you're you are you're be singing now, Every word must be Song, but sans rehearse re·hearse v. re·hearsed, re·hears·ing, re·hears·es v.tr. 1. a. To practice (a part in a play, for example) in preparation for a public performance. b. .... Perhaps the answer was in the songs. * Baldwin Baldwin, cities, United States Baldwin. 1 Uninc. city (1990 pop. 22,719), Nassau co., SE N.Y., on the south shore of Long Island, on Baldwin Bay; settled 1640s. A fishing center and summer resort, it has varied manufactures. Dramatis Personae Laxmi Bharati: A Universite Laval student architect, 21. Also, a Hindu, of Indian descent, born and raised in Montreal. Colette Chart: A Universite Laval law student, 21. Of Chinese origin, She escaped the 1989 Goddess of Democracy' pogrom. Ovide Rimbaud: A Haitian of blackwhite ancestry brought to Quebec by his parents in 1989. Also a Ville de Quebec-based architect, 25. Malcolm States; A Montrealais jazz saxophonist of African-American and Mi'kmaq Nova Scotian heritage, reared in Halifax. He's 25. Musicians: A-J, piano; Sans Souci, bass; Blue, drums; Sept-Isles, trumpet. (Other personnel may be drafted as required.) Fin de xxe siecle Ville de Quebec, Vieux-Quebec. Quebecite, with music by D.D. Jackson, was performed on September 5, 2003, at the Guelph Jazz Festival. Scene I: Devant Le Chateau Frontenac Fron·te·nac , Comte de Title of Louis de Buade. 1620?-1698. French colonial administrator who governed New France (1672-1682 and 1689-1698) and held Quebec against the British in the King William's War (1690). In a blue-lilac Adj. 1. blue-lilac - of lavender tinged with blue bluish-lilac chromatic - being or having or characterized by hue dusk lit with light petals of rain, the pollen of cream-blossomed April, Ovide holds a black, velvety vel·vet·y adj. vel·vet·i·er, vel·vet·i·est 1. Suggestive of the texture of velvet; soft and smooth: velvety skin. 2. umbrella umbrella, a small canopy used as a protection against the sun in China, Egypt, and elsewhere in remote antiquity. It was often an emblem of rank. During the Middle Ages the umbrella became almost extinct in Europe; its usefulness was not rediscovered until the late . He is natty in a pink shirt, mauve jacket A plastic housing that contains a floppy disk. The 5.25" disk is built into a flexible jacket; the 3.5" disk uses a rigid jacket. , and black pants. Wearing a gold and turquoise turquoise, hydrous phosphate of aluminum and copper, Al2(OH)3PO4·H2O+Cu, used as a gem. It occurs rarely in crystal form, but is usually cryptocrystalline. sari, and holding a turquoise and gold umbrella, Laxmi faces her wanna-be amadou Am´a`dou n. 1. A spongy, combustible substance, prepared from fungus (Boletus and Polyporus) which grows on old trees; German tinder; punk. . They stand before a silhouette silhouette (sĭl'  ĕt`), outline image, especially a profile drawing solidly filled in or a cutout pasted against a lighter background. of the Gothic-styled
Chateau Frontenac. Gargoyles gargoylesmedieval European church waterspouts; made in form of grotesque creatures. [Architecture: NCE, 1046] See : Ugliness jut from a low roof, but blossoms arc upwards to meet them--as if in love. The sound of a bass commixes with church bells chiming in bluesy discord Discord See also Confusion. Andras demon of discord. [Occultism: Jobes, 93] discord, apple of caused conflict among goddesses; Trojan War ultimate result. [Gk. Myth. . Ovide gestures This is a list of gestures. : Top - 0–9 A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z A
O: Laxmi, when apple blossoms blaze,
call them beautiful,
feel the tender warmth of Love,
fleshed heat, palpable.
Will you fulfill my meaning?
Am I meaningful?
L: You've invited me to savour jazz--
Lightning born alive as chocolate....
Why taint it with saccharine hints,
Or sick cadence of decadence?
Is there some fault in your feelings?
Are your plans purely floors and
ceilings?
O: I speak only as an architect
buttressing a Laval student architect.
I've my own firm: I'm stable.
mature.
My designs are pure.
L: Only my blueprints, Ovide, should
be blue.
I'll build gaudy temples, Gaudi's
style pursue.
O: Virtue is the steely mettle I trust:
My husband will be iron, not rust.
Virtue should not buckle to vice.
(Quebec's no Puritan paradise.)
But, your eyes could set fire to ice.
L: To breathe Occidental oxygen,
say my parents, is to go rotten.
So I hex all wrecks and vexations of
men.
Oh, what is wrong with women is
men!
O: Laxmi, you'll always be beautiful.
You are going to always be
beautiful-
like Quebec City, Quebec City,
this Romantic Gothic city.
Lakme, you're cinnamon-copper
skin
and plum lips ablaze, Is that a sin?
L: Ovide, you're as magnetic as a
collision;
But kisses are just prefaces to
perdition.
O: I could scat sing my ballad
valentine!
L: Just serve me verres of very fine
wine.
O: Je suis Haitien, with pure, sugar love
to advance.
We'll sip chilled Haitian rum.
distilled in France.
L: Non, I just don't trust,
don't trust Romance:
too much is lust,
too much is chance.
O: The bed decides
who is competent to wed.
The bed decides
what grooms wed which brides.
L: Seduction is no promise of
happiness.
Seduction is a satisfaction sated with
pain.
O: Such gargoyle words could scare off
rain--Quebecoise
April's blossoming
rain....
L: Seduction is chocolates and
champagne,
then nausea, tears, vertigo, and pain.
Ovide, I prefer Puccini with
cappuccino
or Picasso, al fresco, with espresso
to vain talk that's just in vain.
So let's go hear the Malcolm States Quartet
at La Revolution Tranquille, mon bon architecte.
Q: Oui, let's scat!
Their umbrellas set and poised, the pair strolls to the
jazz club.
Study a mosaic of piano amid a collage of saxophone.
Sceneii: A la Revolution Tranquille
In this scene, it is seen that Malcolm hoists a saxophone
to hi slips. A suave man in a black suit and crisp white
shirt (offset by a skinny black tie), he stands in a corner
of the bar/nightclub that a crimson fluorescent sign
declares <<La Revolution Tranquille.>> A poster features
Malcolm in a dour, Miles Davis Pose, scowling,
pouting, sporting dark sunglasses, standing before the
equally surly <<The Malcolm States Quartet, << featuring
A.J. on piano, Sans Souci on bass, Blue on drums and
Sept-Iles on Trumpet. The bar itself is tones of warm
maple and silky grey stone, soft-lit. In one corner, a
small shrine to Chinese ancestors and deities glow red,
to summon good luck. On one wall 1960s-era posters of
Pierre Elliott-Trudeau, Martin Luther King, Jr., Ho Chi
Minh, Rene Levesque, Oscar Peterson, John Coltrane,
Golda Meir, Miles Davis, James Brown, Brigitte
Bardot, Ella Fitzgerald, Jean Lasage, Josephine Baker,
Adrienne Clarkson, Malcolm X, and Jawarharlal Nehru
appear. The bar is retro in style.
M : Mimic Holland-Dozier-Holland:
Make it hard, make it hot, make it damned.
Malcolm blows scales that are really piano glissades.
Then, he sets down the saxophone and sings.
M : If it was not your lover, who was?
Those days. hungry in the grass.
Your skirt, spread like an hourglass,
Butterflies mobbing us at dusk:
Baby, we are close enough to know
We are no longer close now.
Colette Colette (Sidonie Gabrielle Colette) (sēdōnē` gäbrēĕl` kōlĕt`), 1873–1954, French novelist. Colette achieved popularity with numerous novels, characterized by sensitive observations—particularly of enters the bar. Beautiful, she wears a white silk blouse, set off by a thin black tie, a short, white pleated skirt skirt abattoir term for diaphragm. , low-heeled shoes shoe n. 1. A durable covering for the human foot, made of leather or similar material with a rigid sole and heel, usually extending no higher than the ankle. 2. A horseshoe. 3. , and her two black braids. She carries a heavy law book and a bag of clementines CLEMENTINES, eccl. law. The name usually given to the collection of decretals or constitutions of Pope Clement V., which was made by order of John XXII. his successor, who published it in 1317. The death of Clement V. . When Colette plunks these items on a table, Malcolm Malcolm, Máel Coluim, or Maol Choluim may refer to: Nobility
M : Take a break. See y'all in an hour. A'-'right?
The band exits (apparently). Colette sits and begins to peel
a clementine.
M : (To Colette) Don't judge these sounds too harshly.
The notes echo a man who loved too brashly.
C : I'm just a Laval law student.
I don't try to judge music,
Though I courted piano as a girl.
But the law states, Mr. States,
Nothing can be done about lost love :
But no one's free who isn't free to love.
M : You speak so deliciously,
And with such cadenced balances.
You parley so judiciously,
Like spectres at seances.
If I may say so, Ms. Chan, I presume.
Please, please call me Malcolm.
C : In Franglais--or joual, my name's Colette.
M : Its accent's perfume, scented, in a novelette.
C : If English weren't such anguish!
If only French werenot so gauche!
M : That's the anomalous calamity of Canada :
Anglos muck up the Queen's English
Francophones fuck up French.
C : Canada is as lovely as fine china.
But no place is as lovely as china.
M : Why did you leave that place you love?
Was it fear--or love--that drove your
move?
C : Bullets blasted away ballads and ballots,
and bodies were 'miscounted' everywhere :
only 'nobodies' numbered as the dead,
when China drove us out in '89,
when I was nine.
A communist comrade warned us
worshipping 'freedom' could be fatal,
so my Lincoln-minded parents.
two profs adoring forbidden Ellington,
fled with their hidden Ellington :
our total wordly goods were music.
Then, they opened this jazz club--cafe,
Dreaming of a liberal, free Cathay.
How did you, Malcolm, come to the sax?
Why are you, Malcolm, ex of Halifax?
M: Halifax is whole-hog Haligonians-In
a sty of nasty Nova Scotians
Practising swinish shenanigans.
To forget my regrets, I picked up the piano,
but saxophone was lighter to pick up than
the piano.
C: Do you mind if I listen in tonight?
I used to study piano and ... I like your sax.
M: (Impishly.) It's not just biology; I'm
practiced.
C: (Laughing.) I said sax, not sex.
M: I'd love to hear your fingers minuet, colette.
Sit beside me and debut a duet.
Malcolm places his saxophone on top of the piano and
slides onto the piano bench. Colette wipes her clementine-wet
fingers on a wet napkin, then rises to join Malcolm,
sitting at the piano.
C: Look! My legs are so short,
My feet can hardly touch the ground.
M: Then I'll sit close by, close, to feel each sound.
Colette's feet dangle while she impresses the piano.
C: Lushly, a dewed light falls,
Blushing branches.
It clears what doubts had pressed down leaves
And lets kissed lips-Lilacs,
lilies, tulips-Flourish
And more flourish.
M: The new spring, with fresh blossoms, comes. Lovers
purr, purl, pour themselves like balm or ointment on
each other, then fall calm, And sun heaps light in
their eyes like poems.
C: (Smiling.) I must shout, sing-Loud,
liberal-
To have sweet lungs:
Plus, it's April.
M: You may be une etudiante en droit,
But you are a pianist-si vous desiriez l'emploi
C: No, it's your music that resembles
Beautiful, fragrant, apple blossoms.
Song continues anew.
C: The sea-green trees, the snow-whit blossoms-
M: The star-stormed night, so blatant with blossoms,
C/M: Flaunt a florilegium of perfumes.
A burst of thunder, then shouting rain, Colette smiles at Malcolm,
leaps up, grabs her law book, and swirls out of the bar. Malcolm
holds
up two clementines.
M: Ah, clementines like fine china,
Lovely like fine-boned, delicate china, these
choice clementines, finely, from China.
Scene iii: Blues de Malcolm
Laxmi and Ovide sit at a table in La Revolution Tranquille.
Gigantic, olive-garnished, martini glasses sit swimmingly
before the pair. Sound of the Malcolm States Quartet
tuning up. Wearing a lime-green skirt and an aquamarine
blouse, Colette sits at another table. Holding his
saxophone and standing at a microphone, Malcolm begins
to sing
M: Ici a Qeebec City, voici "Blues de Malcolm."
If you're down and out,
Good and evil don't matter,
If you're down, dirty, and out,
Vice and virtue don't matter,
But if you're up and coming,
Your innocence will shatter.
Now I go from drink to drink,
And I've gone from gal to gal.
Yes, I slip from bad to worse,
And I've fallen from gal to gal:
The ones I want promise Paradise,
The ones I get give me hell.
I ain't blue: the rain still works;
The wind hasn't broken down.
I ain't blue: the rain it still works,
And the sun, it still burns, it burns,
It burns right down to the ground.
The audience applauds. Malcolm signals for a break. The
band members exit (apparently). Colette kisses Laxmi and
Ovide on their cheeks, in greeting.
C: How erect's the architecture?
L: How prospers the law?
C: The law prospers the few-as usual.
L: And we architects bulldoze flowers.
Les jeunes filles laugh.
L: Colette Chan, do you know Ovide Rimbaud?
C: (To Ovide.) You designed La Revolution Tranquille,
I know.
O: C'est un plaisir encore, Ms. Chan. I'll buy us rum.
Ovide rises and goes to the bar.
C: Laxmi. est-ce qu'Ovide serait ton chum?
L: Pas du tout, Colette!
C: Pas encore, peut-etre!
Malcolm approaches the table. Ovide returns with three glasses and
three fingers of rum.
C: May I introduce Malcolm States?
Malcolm, this is Laxmi Bharati, an architecture student at
Universite Laval....
M: Je suis charme par votre elegance.
C: And the architect, Ovide Rimbaud, is her....
L: Acquaintance.
C: Laxmi, his name is handsome with romance.
O: Ovide-like the poet; Rimbaud-like the poet.
M: Poets never sound like anything but poets.
O: May I be a poet speaking to other poets?
L: The word love is cheap in their sonnets.
O: Yet, Petrarchan sonnets premiere with Sade- Because
Petrarch loved an ancestress of Sade.
L: Poets are eyes looking for eyes
To look into, eyes to inspire fresh lies.
C: (Smiling.) It's cynical-to be so clinical-about
emotion.
L: Mais Eros est comme une erosion.
C: Poetry is endlessly fresh, like dew, like grass;
Love refreshes like a wine drenched glass
M: Je vais demander du vin.
Malcolm goes to the bar and returns with a glass of wine.
C: Let white wine oil oenophiles
And black-and-white cinephiles.
O: Eternity could not be endless without wine
L: Love is not endless without scruples.
Remember thesse "Couplets for Couples":
Those who are oversensual
Are more acting than actual
(Their passion is biological).
Those who are undersensuous
Are more vain than virtuous.
(The best are tortuous.)
Do not feel less or much:
Love exceeds mere sense of touch.
The party applauds Laxmi
O: Laxmi, you forget nature, and that's unnatural.
Even nimble priests to nimble prostitutes tumble.
Holy the Landscape lacks all inhibition:
Wind, rain, and flowers enact ecstatic coition.
In Vienna, near the opera house, when it's warm.
The green rows of ash trees smell just like sperm.
Only harlots venerate such rhetoric-
As do mistresses, middling, melodramatic.
C: You're both quite talkative.
L: It's recitative.
C: Tell us, Malcolm, about your aesthetic of Jazz.
Is it Neo-Traditional or Free, fluid like Bauhaus?
M: Jazz is nights fallen open like a dress and just as
sweet. Jazz is the vice versa of vice and virtue.
Jazz is the aboriginal-Afro-Asian-Semitic-Caucasian
Rainbow.
Jazz is fried pigtails, white rum, and hot diggity
curry.
Jazz is the blessed, gorgeous, hurtful, and all torn up.
Jazz is Chinese motifs in blues with black motives.
Jazz is the law of pleasure and the architecture of
joy.
Jazz lives and survives:
Jazz hates executives.
O: Your style, Malcolm, recalls dd Jackson;
No, it's more like, oui, J.J. Jackson,
His 1960s hit, "But It's Alright."
M: Oscar Peterson is my idol.
De temps en temps, I dream I'm his rival.
But I also worship Portia White
L: It's late, the rain is strong, and so, good night.
C: The rain and the streetlights compose a poem.
L: Au revoir, Colette; a bientot, Malcolm.
C: "Can any joyful leaning be obeyed,
If the desiring heart is first denied
A satisfying love?" So Tu Fu said.
M: This scripture is sunlight inside.
O: O! Laxmi, to win your sunshine, I will sing.
L: If your don's sing well, you'll just get rain.
O: Then I'll love the rain as if it were the sun, melting.
L: Never mistake ginger-ale for champagne.
O: I'd love to take, not mistake you as my misses....
L: Don't confuse Quebec City for Rome,
And don't confuse a few blase kisses
For blazing entree to a baisadrome....
Laxmi and Ovide take their leave, leaving Colette and Malcom alone
together.
Scene iv: Clementines
Malcolm and Colette sit side-by-side in the darkened La Revolution
Tranquille.
The Saxophone rests atop the piano. Malcom clasps Colette's hands in
his own.
M: Like late Lear, I'm lighthearted,
finally humbling to love.
C: It's too early to speak of love.
It's too easy to speak of love.
Time breaks all spoken vows.
Time speaks all broken vows.
M: We wrestle, we wrestle, with Life,
And then we are thrown:
Time has its way with us,
Then, the grave has its own.
But not to struggle for love,
Is to be senseless stone.
Malcolm begins to play "Clementines" on the piano.
M: Your hair unclasps like wine,
your fingers blush to orange.
I taste your flurried moans,
sugar Aprilling lips.
It neige sur tousles toits
after two clementines,
clement, Laurentian wine,
plush, orange-cinnamon tea....
On ne vit pas d'amour
et d'eau fraiche.
Sino-Quebecoise,
Imago of Beijing,
stitch together aubades,
monostich by monostich,
til a sudden poem ships,
thrashes, frothing your book
C: It is so beautiful, Malcolm, I can't move.
But words, oh words, contaminate love!
Colette begins to cry and turn away. Malcolm turns her to face him
and he hugs her.
M: Why? Why? Why?
C: Words have an annoying tendency
To turn into lies.
Malcolm kisses Colette. She responds, tentatively, then voluptuously.
M: We'll cleave as one, then, in past tense, clove.
C: Malcolm, you could prove you love a stove!
Again, Kisses.
M: Let Love, like Genesis, break night in two-
One half into rain, one half into dew.
C: I wish love were simple. I wish many things.
But my heart is a song your love now sings.
Scene v: Au centre-ville, sous la pluie
In this scene is seen Laxmi and Ovide, umbrellas unfurled, running
through a Pluviose downpour and down a cobblestoned, questing
street. They shelter in a Gothic, gargoyle-headed archway. Ovide
kisses Laxmi and she pushes him away.
L: You're as sophisticated as Mephistopheles,
But any hypocrite can press out kisses.
Kisses seem and sine qua non of hypocricy.
O: Laxmi, t'es san souci, aussi un peu sassy!
Why can't we be enlightened?
Laxmi means light. Perhaps you're frightened?
L: Am I to be coupled like a boxcar?
Is that what all your words are for?
O: You are so lavishly beautiful, Laxmi,
Any poem for you must harden to a jewel,
But, still, its facets must prove facetious:
How can mere glitter compare to sunshine?
L: Such symphonic speech,
Such lyrical kisses!
O: My inspiration's Greek-
But French in places.
Some birds flit, squawking, overhead.
O: Crows caress
the wind's nape-
then undress
its thin shape.
L: The birds bicker like grouchy guitarist.
O: But my kisses offer violent tenderness-
Just like liquor.
You seek a spasm of amplexus some afternoon-
Perhaps a little brown sugar
For your cafe au lair spoon....
I suspect you think Tia Maria mixed with milk
Guarantees feats of sex amid feasts of silk....
O: You could play Delibes's delicate Lakme
But without eating the deadly dhatura,
That pale, poisonous flower.
I would play Lord Byron with bravura.
L: Don't cast us as two outcast characters-
Crass as those in Baldwin's Another Country,
His drastically orgiastic actors,
Concocting unconscionable cochonneries.
O: Our love will erect a cathedral....
L: Or do you mean a Kama Sutra brothel?
Le Moulin rouge is more your moral style,
Ovide, not the immaculate Taj Mahal.....
Ovide shakes his head 'no' and then kneels, on a dry spot, before
Laxmi. He touches her feet.
O: As you pass, yellow
marigolds bow down in awe
at you auburn feet.
Laxmi turns away.
L: Love is always, always, a risk.
Ah, who can I ask? Oh, who can I ask?
What is true in a kiss or embrace?
What a lover reveals is always less.
Ovide stands and embraces Laxmi.
L/O: Oh, these vexations will go on like hexes
for nothing's as vexatious as the sexes
when it comes to sex.
L: Ovide, I'm no tabloid starlet-
Half Girl Guide and half coquette.
O: Laxmi, your purity is a treasure,
Not a plunder to loot-
L: Or pollute-
O: At leasure.
Laxmi lets Ovide kiss her-tentatively-in the rain. Sound of a
foghorn.
Canto II
Sacrum, sacrum, inluminatio coitu
* Pound, Canto XXXVI
Rain drizzles pizzicato, petulant, upon the window.
C: Perhaps you are a Casanova, callow,
And I'm a morsel you'll swallow
And forget ... in an ellipse-
Like a satisfied gourment wiping his lips.
M: All my heart-felt, honest kisses,
Colette, are religiously vigorous.
Malcolm opens the mini-bar again and extracts two mini bottles.
M: What would you like? There's Calvados
And London Dock rum from Barbados.
Colette takes one of the bottles and pours its contents into her
glass.
C: Of flesh, and blood, and bone,
We are made alone.
With these same things,
We are made lonely:
The white moon only
Owns true-wed wings
M: When that dawn sun blasts forth light,
I'm gonna ring a tambourine,
Oh, I'll love you 'til forever-
And each day that falls between.
Colette, you're a Manet siren in a Monet scene.
A Chiang Yee pastel fantasized by Anais Nin.
The Lovers kiss. Darkness, an erection of flutes, then a triumph of
Tijuana-flavoured trumpet braying Ole!
Scena ii: trop d'amour
Bells chime out dawn. While Malcolm slumbers in the hotel bed,
Colette,
Wearing tangerine-coloured underwear, dons a short, crimson skirt and
a gold
shirt, then pulls on orange, knee-high stocking, and then, before a
full-length
mirror, a ret beret. She steps into red shoes and a red backpack,
then kisses Malcolm. He awakes and sits up.
C: Law school awaits my anarchy, mon cheri.
M: Careful: lawyers go to legislatures-
or the hoosegow, just like whores.
C: And musicians? Don't they go to asylums
or end up waxed, shellacked, in museums?
Malcolm pulls Colette onto the bed and kisses her.
C: When first to Quebec I came,
I stood once in the endless forest
with endless snow tumbling around-
Snow, snow, snow, tumbling
around,
I trembled so in that wintry forest,
When first to Quebec I came.
M: I remember field snowy with clover
saluting the wild Nova Scotian Ocean,
its blue-grey circumflexes of waves,
and I see my mother's golden face,
smiling, as my rum-coloured father,
brought me a toy piano, black and silver,
echoing a classic Bosendorfer.
C: On peut jaser toujours....
M: On peut baiser encore.
C: Je t'aime. Malcolm.
M: I love you, too, Colette, my balm.
C: Je t'aime beaucoup, beaucoup. A ce soir.
M: Oui, a ce soir,
that hour just before
indigo melts azure to noir.
Colette jumps up, kisses Malcolm, and leaves.
Scene iii: Recit d'Ovide
Wearing a black beret, a pink shirt and a black suit, Malcolm
stands at
the bar of La Revolution Tranquille. He lime-coloured absinthe into a
glass. Ovide, dressed in a white suit and mauve shirt, downs it. A
vase jets dazzling sunflowers.
O: Absinthe maketh the heart grow fonder, eh?
M: If not that, it cuts it asunder.
Malcolm drinks. Ovide looks out the window. He wolf whistles.
O: Is it their nylons, that sheer, shimmering,
Polyhexamethyleneudiapide, simmering,
That sets girls' legs chicly glimmering?
M: Uh huh, Quebec Cite's panochitas
Say "Buona notre" with aqua vitae.
What man doesn't want some of that-
Sine adorably filthy fille-appat?
O: I adore cosmo mosaics-rainbows-of women:
Their peach-copper hair, their plum-cocoa skin,
Their almond-amber eyes that are an eyeful,
Their beauty surpassing everything beautiful.
Sometimes I spend whole nights just imagining-
Kissing, tonguing, drooling, slurping, sinning.
M: This mania you mention, so manic and mad,
Screens like a scene scripted by Sade....
O: Love your wife. tooth and nail:
Enter the marriage jail.
Love you whore, fang and claw:
Make adultery the law.
L: Now, you echo consciously and surly, early Pound
Reading late, late Yeats where Shelley drowned.
O: There was a woman. Il y avait une femme.
Her cigarette smoke spangled silvery poshas
if haloing a nouvelle Coco Chanel.... Gosh!
There was a woman. I1 a avait une femme-
all silky black blouses and carousing curls
and inky black skirts, milky, slinky pearls.
How hot it was, that summer, didn't matter:
Her scalding kisses burned even hotter.
I sing of a white woman who was white-
Like smoke or fog or mist.
Ovide turns and addresses the sunflowers.
O: Sunflowers, in your aureate, snowing light-
Half-gold,half-amethyst-
Sunflowers,
in your aureate, snowing light,
We kissed and kissed and kissed.
M: A rich, white gal crowning a black man's sex:
She was Desdemona, you was Oedipus Rex.
O: I say nothing rhetorical.
All her beauty was strictly allegorical.
There was a woman. Il y avait une femme.
Even weather was not as hot as she! Damn!
Our dalliance, mesalliance, had a blues blueprint:
We founded love that crumbled like poor cement.
M: The girl was a ruin. You left her crying?
O: Maria was dismaying and dissatisfying.
M: But Laxmi?
O: A femme fatale Salome, pure silk and teak,
Her carriage Georgian, her cloumns Greek.
The curvature of space?
Who cares?
Her curves erase
All fears.
The beauty of time?
So What?
Her thinness is what time
Has not.
But she seems indifferent-
In different ways,
Suspicious of kisses
And cold to cliches
M: You sound like you're teetering at a cliff.
O: I could find love, a way to be loved, if....
M: (Shrugging.) Those who can, can-can.
Those who can't, go to Cannes
And seduce disingenuous, sinuous ingenues.
O: Oh, what's the use? What's the use?
Seductions often succumb to the sorbid.
Malcolm puts away the absinthe. Ovide goes absent.
Scene iv: Sur le pont
On Le Pont-Pierre-Laporte, a suspension bridge, Ovide stands at the
pedestrian railing as vehicles pass behind him. Sounds of traffic.
In
the murky night, the Saint Lawrence River seems invisible. Tipsily,
Ovide pulls a photograph from his jacket pocket.
O: See April water swarming in channels
under the dark-blue, April atmosphere:
See white foam churning black, abysmal,
In cataracts as catastrophic as tears.
This annihilating nadir I see
Is eel-black, eel-viscous, eel-slippery.
Ovide pitches the photograph into the wind, into pitch.
O: Our essence is need:
To be born is to crave-
To grasp for air,
To grasp for love.
Farewell, Maria. Oui, adieu.
Only the sky should be blue.
Ovide begins to leave the bridge.
Scene v: Au magasin de confection
At a dress shop tattooed with a neon sign promising, "La Novelle
Vague," Colette, wearing a blue and gold tartan sari, examines a
rack
of white blouses. Laxmi enters. She wears a blazing pink sarong.
Colette smiles broadly at Laxmi.
L: Ah, Ms. Chan! Is this shop where you work?
C: No. In the firm Etienne Agnant, I'm a clerk.
L: I'm at Hydro-Quebec-as an assistant
To a Chief Deputy, Deputy Assistant.
I see saris are in vogue, and you're in love.
Am I right? I am right. Rightly, I approve.
C: Laxmi Bharati, I admit I adore
The blue-black in his skin and hair;
That black indigo in Malcolm's hair....
Blackness blacker than black, I adore.
L: Beware: Men have sex but women have babies.
Men 'make love', but women make 'mistakes.'
Why must we be comic hymenoptera.
And our mandibles and incisors and feelers
Clutching and biting and gnawing
In sex acts that dissect insect opera?
C: All women should, I'm sure you could prove,
Give love and have love and make love.
L: To be sexually dirty, but still seem wholesome-
Underwrites both cosmetics and Romanticism.
Men's desire is to deflower,
Devour, and depart.
They annex your sex and, after.
Snort, and ask. "who's next?"
C: Men's morals are desolate, detritus.
But should women be acidic, citrus?
L: The impermanence of flowers
Souls do not have.
Thus, Jove for aeons, not hours.
We surely crave.
Spirit is what weds: flesh sours,
Sinks, to the grave.
C: Malcolm and I are of linked vision,
Welded together to no mere thing.
Coupled with divine precision,
We form a single chain of Being.
The essence of you twinned Quebecite
Is an indelibly doubled haecceity.
What about you and your avid Ovide?
L: I'm myself, pure, still, and he is-Ovide....
Have you told your parents about Malcolm?
C: (Wildly.) I can't! I can't! I can't bring him home!
L: So you see him secretly, sneak out and back?
Because he's black. Right? Because he's black.
C: You are cold, Laxmi! A cold virago with cold eyes,
A cold heart, cold words, and cold, cold
philosophies.
L: But I'm no hypocrite, no polished ascetic
With gilded morals, but rusty practique.
If you are so lyrically in love, legalistic girl,
Brave your parents, face, anew, the true world.
Laxmi leaves. Colette weeps.
C: Everything about our pairing is in despair.
Everything about our pairing is in despair.
All our reality is constant wars:
First, yellow sunlight blacks out the stars.
Then the sun crashes into burning seas
And bursts into stars-black, burning stars.
Scene vi: Devant l'Assemblee Nationale
Before the National Assembly, the parliament of Quebec, that
silver-
grey, rococo edifice (law and architecture married), Laxmi, in
black
knee highs, a black skirt, a white blouse, a black beret, and
black, low-
heeled
shoes, strolls with Ovide. He wears a beige suit, a white shirt,
and a black tie. Red, yellow, white tulips offset the grey
legislature.
O: Over there, across the valley, beyond Sillery,
Pines sprout, dark as rains, but silvery.
L: Black pines gather-like crowds of mourners
Around Love, that disease, coronary ...
O: Love is human: even some chilly aristocrat
Kowtows to a slut, hot from the proletariat.
L: Impure women of impudent pudenda
Imprudently satisfy lechers' agenda.
O: Why such pretty-or rather-pretty, ugly words?
The city glistens with wedding-cake light!
L: Often marriage
ends as mirage-
or in triage
or in a cage.
O: Laxmi, in Delibes's apt opera. Lakme,
The Hindu heroine enacts Love's acme.
I don't ask for half as much, nor vaunt
Queries to irk, irritate, and itch.
L: I have one: "What does a woman want?"
The answer: "To be young, single, and rich."
O: Must we spat outside Quebec's parliament?
Ici nous sommes-tous-Quebecois, supremement.
L: "La Peau brune, mais le coeur quebecois"?
Tell that to the "pure lain Quebecois"!
Everybody here asks me if I'm Indienne,
If I answer "Canadian," they ask, "Since when?"
When Premier Parizeau blamed "la vote ethnique"
For his Referendum loss. his disgust was no freak.
I knew then that all Quebecois must be white
Or could not be Quebecois, at least not quite.
Why should you venerate their quebecitude,
When they negate, denigrate, your negritude?
O: When my parents left Haiti, doging Duvalier,
le Parti Quebecois disait, "Bienvenue, restez."
L: My Brahmim parents flew from Mumbai.
A doctor and a teacher, once of Bombay,
They arked that sea, that cerulean sea,
To build fortunes and a future for me.
Now, I'll raise up temples, build cathedrals-
To satisfy, harmonize, all religious souls.
O: If you were to die right now, you'd regret,
Not having loved, not having been fit.
L: Why would I regret
not being lied to?
Ovide strides away. Laxmi chases after him and grabs hold of his
arm.
Ovide
turns, angry, and pulls Laxmi roughly to him. He kisses her
callously.
She
slaps his face.
O: Now I regret....
I love you.
L: How can three words stand for as much as that?
O: Your Virtue is only an antiquated, Bollywood
Cliche. antique in real life-and in Hollywood!
L: A man's sex is outer, a woman's inner:
In between lies the shameless sinner.
O: It's surrealism more unreal than a Dali-
All your inimical cynicism about sex!
L: Beware: my household goddess is seven-armed Kali,
Who swings seven swords and severs seven necks!
Ovide exits in a fury.
Scene vii: A l'exterieur de la boite de nuit
In a dark dusk, glowering outside La Revolution
Tranquille, Malcolm, wearing a beige suit, milk-white
shirt, and sable tie, faces a regretful, tearful Colette. She is
dressed in a Nova Scotian tartan kilt, a white blouse, and a
tartan beret.
M: So your parents denounce me as a "nigger"?
Now, ain't that some shit? Sugar!
C: That's not what they meant.
That's not what they mean.
M: I know what they mean-
"a brutal physiognomy,
ignoble, igneous ignominy."
Oh, I know what they mean!
Quebecois claim they're white niggers of America,
Peut-etre, but I'm the black negre of Quebec,
Quebec!
C: We can still love. Don't be so mean!
M: I want to love meaningfully,
Not meanly.
You can't force a song.
You can't force a duet.
It mustn't feel wrong-
Or it's illicit.
C: I thought I was hallucinating
When Mama swore she'd suicide.
She pointed a steak knife at her heart,
But she was really aiming it at my heart,
And I felt it go in.
Next, papa grabbed her wrist,
Arrested the blade,
But told me I was banished.
I stumbled, dizzy, out these doors,
Tears replacing my eyes.
M: Loving you is like, like, Heaven and a lynching!
Pops abandoned Tennessee to escape such flinching!
To get good love, he motorcycled to Nova Scotia,
And met and married a Black-Mi'kmaq madonna
C: Should I just destroy my parents' hearts?
They dream of golden, Chinese grandchildren.
They dream of pure gold, Chinese descendants.
Can I coldly stab their dreaming hearts?
M: It's theirs-or mine-or ours.
It's theirs-or mine-or ours.
Are Chinese pure laine like some Quebecois?
Am I a black sheep, a devil, dizzingly noir?
C: Would our children be black or gold?
Would they be free or free to be sold?
M: Do you think our kids'd be striped like zebras?
Or look like Neapolitan ice cream? Or ameobas?
C: Will you repudiate
our beauty?
Will you humiliate
my duty?
Colette begins to cry.
C: My folks said you can't play here,
If you don't forget and forsake me.
M: Well, hell, no, my quartet won't play!
We'll put our silver instruments
And put our black music away. Away!
This ain't no time for innocence.
Away! Away! Away! Away! Away!
Malcolm walks into the nightclub, rips down his band's poster, and
storms out and away.
Canto III
And the old voice lifts itself
weaving an endless sentence.
And the old voice lifts itself
weavimg an endless sentence.
* Pound, Canto VII
Scene I: Malcolm a l'extetieur de l'hotel
Malcolm paces before Le Chateau Frontenac. He wears a yellow shirt,
black pants, a red silk jacket, and a black overcoat. His suitcase and
instrument case occupy a hotel luggage cart. Night! Malcolm unlocks
his horn case. He holds up his saxophone.
M: Oh Colette,
I can't forget.
I cry
the smell of good-bye
in a way you vanished,
ma jolie Chinoise-Quebecoise,
folding yourself away
like a map
of ghostly geography.
I cry
the absence of our whole
Quebec Crisis of French
Tongue, sweet grammar
of our thighs,
conjugating all night.
I cry
because you're gone,
gone though Parliament
pleaded with you to stay.
I cry
the oval, open mouth
of your goodbye.
Crying, Malcolm again packs up his saxophone.
M: I'll not be a decomposing composer,
With his asphyxiated sax.
To Hell with a keep-quiet 'revolution'!
I'll holler Love maximally max!
Malcolm beckons for a taxi.
M: I am a star; Colette's a galaxy.
Taxi! Taxi! My music for a taxi!
Scene ii: Colette au bar
Inside the dark La Revolution Tranquille, Colette, in a white dress
patterned with black bars of music, sits at the bar. She opens a
bottle
of absinthe. She pours the smoking verdancy into a martini glass. She
daubs at her eyes with a napkin.
C: (Ironically.) Finally, I'm called to the bar-
the bar of prosecution,
the bar of ripped-up bars of music,
the bar of persecution....
Africa is far from China, yes,
but their histories harmonize:
On its "yellow niggers,"
canada a head tax incised,
But bid my slaving ancestors
lay down its rail ties.
But China isn't any Eden:
Mao declared jazz damned:
He called it "decadent,"
ordered it banned.
But jazz is a black market, black magic music:
Its voodoo fuses Malcolm X and Confucius.
Now I lust for the look of leaves, leaves in fresh
wind.
Blown startlingly green against Malcolm's sable
skin!
Why can't we have May rains in April?
Why can't Joy flower just like maples?
Oh, why can't we have darling rain
curling over our faces in cafes again?
Malcolm, when I'm below and you're above,
We'll be making common sense of love.
Scene iii: Ovide sur le pont
With the wind buffeting his black cape, Ovide, dressed in a black
suit,
stands again upon Le Pont-Pierre-Laporte. Traffic crisscrosses the
bridge. Ovide stares into the distant void of the Saint Lawrence
River.
O: My heart, still beating, is a tragedy.
I've exchanged bliss for obscenity.
O! Her Beauty could topple Plato
And give eyeless statues eyes too.
Ovide climbs over the bridge railing and prepares to jump
O: Before her eyes, I, a poem, changed to fire,
And she backed away.
Now her looks suffocate me, like this wind.
I've lived such lechery.
Laxmi's virtues poets hardly imagine-
Even in a Senghorian alexandrine.
My heart seethes as furiously as the river:
But what if, laxmi, her love, I do recover?
Scene iv: Laxmi sur le quai
In the fog-white night, Laxmi, sporting a long black overcoat, walks
along the ferry terminal dock. A sign indicates Le Traversier for
Levis. Sound of a foghorn.
L: This foggy, tubecular chill makes April hurt!
When will the ferry deliver me from this murk?
This water, oil-dark, is conspicuously viscous:
It surges, shines, as promiscuous as hibiscus.
I try to see reality uncut, uncensored:
Ovide has acted like so much prettied-up dirt.
He thought me "une pute exotique-
Une lascivite proprement asiatique."
Mais, je ne suis pas une debutante lubrique, Avec "une chatte
gluante, pimentee, impudique."
No, a true love must be honourable and pure.
My husband must also be our children's father.
He who'd love me-inviolate-must love
Eros immaculate, His golden trove.
Scene v: Dans le brouillard
Colette and Ovide wander separately in fog. Their songs interlock.
C: This seascape is like one from Li Po-
Just mist, mist and water everywhere....
But where is Malcolm, where are his eyes?
O: This sky coffining us, oh I deserve!
Clouds are sinking down in mire.
My heart's a dire abyss of bias.
C: I should go naked in the fur of snow,
Sprawl in its soft chill and weight,
Feel raw cold corset my breasts, my thighs.
O: Laxmi mirrors Belle Epoque India,
Exquisite, sepia-toned, lavish, precise.
But I've spouted fog-opaque, white lies.
C/O: Malcolm, Laxmi, do not let our romance end:
I miss you as hurtingly as a kite misses wind.
The wanderers continue off on their separate searches.
Scene vi: Sur le quai
Malcolm arrives in a taxi at the ferry terminal. He sees Laxmi,
pacing.
He steps out and removes his suitcase and his saxophone case. Then,
Malcolm approches Laxmi.
L: Malcolm, aren't you playing tonight?
Why divagate in this chill, dull light?
M: Colette's parents have parted me from their daughter,
But I'll seek her, Laxmi, across this parting water.
L: I'm sorry for this news about your love
M: What of Ovide and your Sacre Coeur of love?
Laxmi begins to weep silently.
L: My chateaux are ruins of romance-
and even your rupture with Colette
is my fault. I nagged Colette
to tell her folks in your romance.
M: Soon or late, they'd find out, I knew, about us.
L: And Ovide was pushy, pushy like Priapus.
Ovide opens his suitcase and removes a bottle of absinthe. He offers
it
to Laxmi.
L: I really shouldn't; perhaps it's impure.
M: Sorrow improves with a good liquer.
Laxmi accepts the bottle, tips it carefully and sips.
M: So Ovide's a papier-mache playboy, un poseur,
A masher, pas un gentilhomme de couleur?
L: Oh, why must men be born immoral?
M: True: our high notes are only musical....
But Ovide's no more egotistical
Than any man with testicles.
L: Rapacity is the only male capacity,
Violating Virtue in every vicinity.
M: I know Ovide's an unstable Lothario.
L: He's more a Ripper-type than a Romeo.
M: Ovide is Prufrockian, defrocked, 'fucked up.'
But, Laxmi, you need humility to love.
L: Marriage can't be left to amateurs:
Amours must be lived as a tour de force.
M: Happiness takes work; Pleasure is exacting.
Joy requires exercise; it't not play-acting.
You detest Vice, but Ovide's not so vicious:
Why deem Desire deplorable malpractice?
L: When I was twelve, I accidentally saw
Father kissing some shocking Quebecoise:
She was viscous, a creamy vichyssoise.
He didn't know I saw, rich viciousness saw.
M: Put aside your father's betrayal,
Laxmi, if you love Ovide at all.
L: I love Ovide because I shouldn't
(because he so enrages me,
because he does so outrageously,
things I wouldn't or couldn't)....
Your advice, Malcolm, should you abet.
So now will you recollect Colette?
M: She tried to reason with me; Love was reason.
But, oh, instead I committed comic treason.
Malcolm takes the absinthe, drinks, and weeps.
L: It's not too late. Confront her parents.
M: I hadn't thought I should, but now I must.
L: A woman has only her trust.
A man has his calculated indifference.
The night fog is punctured by footsteps. Colette appears. Laxmi fades
into shaddows.
C: Malcolm, I looked everywhere! Please come home,
To whatever home we can find ensemble.
Malcolm and Colette embrace and kiss. A foghorn sounds.
M: I must go and face-face down-your parents.
C: To clove as one, we don't need their clearance.
You and I have been through much
And should not surrender touch.
Grant me the love that our parents found.
M: Like this rain Mumblin, bumblin, round,
Like this rain Mumblin, bumblin, round,
Without you, I got no solid ground.
C: Africans and Chinese both adore
watermelons and watercolours.
We are too alike not to be ours.
M: Let's start our own revolution tranquille,
with a wrecking ruckus, gay with glee-
an unquiet riot-
half in bed and half out.
Laxmi coughs to announce her presence. She emerges, gleaming,
from the shadows.
C: (To Laxmi.) You are unpleasant, plus unwanted.
M: Truth may be unpleasant, but is always wanted.
L: Still, I regret, Colette, any doubts I planted.
M: (To Colette.) Laxmi and I were mourning you and
Ovide:
We resolved that Love must be plucked from the
void.
A foghorn sounds. The Levis ferry arrives.
L: Voici le traversier. I'll say "Bonsoir," Malcolm,
Colette.
C: Laxmi, stay with us awhile, stay awhile yet.
Through the mist, looking haggard, the black-caped Ovide appears.
Laxmi and Ovide see each other, pause, then run to each other,
embrace, and kiss.
O: I heard Malcolm's saxophone from the boat.
I decided to follow-like Fate-each note.
Malcolm and Colette approach the other pair.
M/C: Believers, lovers,
You must begin again.
O: (To Laxmi.) Your eyes are eloquent, luculent
obsidian,
But I have been insidious, seditious, simian....
L: Ovide, I'll bring you enlightenment yet.
You'll be my Kabir, my ghazal-poet.
O: I'll compose a whole opera on love.
L: Please omit jealousy, deceit, and hate.
M: This time, Colette, loyal I will prove.
C: Let's waltz in styles cinematic, up-to-date.
The two couples ballet a contemporary, Quebec quadrille.
L: We'll love without skill, but without scheming.
M: Oh, if I were King of Nouvelle-Ecosse....
C: (You break no laws by dreaming!)
M: All lovers would be bel, never bellicose.
The ferry moans.
O: Laxmi, I'm prodigal, my mouth full of songs;
My eyes seek lush light; rum sweetens my lungs.
I like baroque structures, those beautiful soft.
Please, acushla, accept this tender gift.
Ovide withdraws a roll of paper from his inner coat pocket.
O: These are my blueprints for a stained-glass cathedral-
To be erected to Laxmi, Kali, et avril.
Laxmi embraces Ovide. They kiss. Colette and Malcolm applaud.
L: I'd like a temple, mera pyar, not a cathedral....
But I'll help you erect it-as your equal.
Our motto will be Satyam, Shivam, Sundarum
Or Truth, God, Beauty-three words that rhyme.
Malcolm removes a small box from his coat pocket and hands it to
Colette. He kneels.
M: (To Colette.) I will still ask your parents for your
hand.
But it's handsome I ask you for you hand.
Malcolm opens the box to reveal a diamond, engagement ring. As
Malcolm slides the ring onto Colette's finger, she kisses him. Laxmi
and Ovide applaud.
M: I propose we marry on May the First.
Those who oppose Love are those God-cursed.
C: I love you! O! The delicious jazz we'll make!
L/O: Put away tears; au revoir, heart break.
Colette reaches into her pocket and hands Malcolm a clementine.
M: Mine clement, clement clementine.
The couple kiss.
All: Seduction is not satisfaction.
Reproduction only cancels faction.
Love is air that all things must have.
Without love, it is impossible to live.
Scene vii: Le finale
Under a banner proclaiming, "l mai, Fete des travailleurs, Fete du
printemps," Colette, wearing a white silk Mao suit, plus a white,
diaphanous veil, and carrying red roses, stands with the black-suited
Malcolm. They are joined by the sable-suited Ovide and by Laxmi,
who is dressed in a scarlet sari, gold jewellery, and carrying white
lotus. The couples stand before Le Chateau Frontenac.
M/O: She is sea-smoked beach.
I am the province's poem.
She is wild apple, russet.
I am dark and pungent rum.
C/L: Apple blossoms, rain-wet,
Froth and foam in our groves.
Our destiny's delicious, lush:
April sows perennial loves.
All: May ushers in with lilac-
Sweet apple blossoms too-
Cutting in buttery,
fluttering,
suave colours of cream plum
and honey Pluviose
and perfumes fuming
musky lemon.
and smells of cedar in fresh rain.
We are not only
philosophies and religions,
languages and races,
but also skin and breath,
thought and blood,
and on that basis,
that axis,
yes, oui, may amalgamate
and mate and progagate
just as we wish.
All the races
end as acres.
None are special:
all are specious.
We aren't sacred-
just a species.
Our children will be
every colour eyes can know,
and free:
and states, parents, gods,
must have no say:
Love is a tyrannical democracy.
Vive le Quebec.
Vive le Quebec.
Vive le Quebec libere.
Vive sussi le Quebec de couleur-Toutes
les couleurs.
Vive notre quebecite.
The lovers exit as coup:es. Then, church bells, horns, sitar, Chinese
violin (p'I-p'a). harmonium, harp, and thumb piano commix. The
Quebec flag is lowered from the rafters, but its four panels are,
here,
beige, pink, gold. and indigo, and its fleur de lys are,
correspondingly
violet, orange, black, and crimson.
Fin
Postlude post·lude n. 1. Music a. An organ voluntary played at the end of a church service. b. A concluding piece. 2. A final chapter or phase. Fabriquer de la realite avec de L'imaginaire: c'est le propre des artistes et des ecrivains. * Beauvoir Beau·voir , Simone de 1908-1986. French writer, existentialist, and feminist whose works include The Second Sex (1949) and The Coming of Age (1970), a study of how different cultures view old age. Noun 1. This libretto libretto (ləbrĕt`ō) [Ital.,=little book], the text of an opera or an oratorio. Although a play usually emphasizes an integrated plot, a libretto is most often a loose plot connecting a series of episodes. would not exist were it not for various actors and benefactors who put me up to it, or put me up, or put up with me. Their righteous right·eous adj. 1. Morally upright; without guilt or sin: a righteous parishioner. 2. In accordance with virtue or morality: a righteous judgment. 3. ranks include Ajay Ajay (Telugu: అజయ్, Hindi: अजय, Urdu: اَجے) Sanskrit Meaning The word Ajay is related to the Sanskrit word "Ajeya", which means "Victorious" or "Un-Conquerable". Heble; Julie JULIE Joint Utility Locating Information for Excavators JULIE Jena University Language and Information Engineering (Germany) Hastings Hastings, city, England Hastings, city (1991 pop. 74,979) and district, East Sussex, SE England. A resort and residential city, Hastings is backed by cliffs and has a 3-mi (4.8-km) marine esplanade, parks, and bathing beaches. ; Jane Hastings; the Guelph Guelph (gwĕlf), city (1991 pop. 87,976), S Ont., Canada, on the Speed River. It is an industrial and agricultural center located in one of Canada's most densely populated regions. Jazz Festival Noun 1. jazz festival - a festival that features performances by jazz artists festival, fete - an organized series of acts and performances (usually in one place); "a drama festival" ; the Laidlaw Laidlaw, organized as Laidlaw International, Inc. (and with corporate headquarters in Naperville, Illinois), was a North American corporation involved with contract school bus service, intercity passenger route and charter bus service, and contract paratransit and public foundation; the Canada Council The Canada Council for the Arts, commonly called the Canada Council, is an arts council of the Government of Canada created to foster and promote the study and enjoyment of, and the production of works in, the arts. It was introduced by Parliament in 1957. for the Arts; Raincoast/Polestar Books; the University of Toronto Research at the University of Toronto has been responsible for the world's first electronic heart pacemaker, artificial larynx, single-lung transplant, nerve transplant, artificial pancreas, chemical laser, G-suit, the first practical electron microscope, the first cloning of T-cells, ; Allan Allan can refer to:
1 Court prophet in the time of David and Solomon. He announced the oracle to David concerning his dynasty. He confronted David over David's adultery with Bath-sheba and over her husband's murder. Ramlugun of Pointe pointe n. In ballet, dancing that is performed on the tips of the toes. [From French pointe (des pieds), point (of the feet), tiptoe; see point.] Aux Canonniers, all of Mauritius Mauritius (môrĭsh`ēəs, –əs), officially Republic of Mauritius, republic (2005 est. pop. 1,231,000), 790 sq mi (2,046 sq km), in the SW Indian Ocean. It is part of the Mascarene Islands, c.500 mi (800 km) E of Madagascar. ; and dd Jackson. Also instrumental was the joint autobiography autobiography: see biography. autobiography Biography of oneself narrated by oneself. Little autobiographical literature exists from antiquity and the Middle Ages; with a handful of exceptions, the form begins to appear only in the 15th century. of Richard Ri·chard , Joseph Henri Maurice Known as "Rocket." 1921-2000. Canadian hockey player. A right wing for the Montreal Canadiens (1942-1960), he led his team to eight Stanley Cup championships and was the first player to score 50 goals in a L. Jackson and Lillian Liu Jackson, titled Love Song and Sorrow (2001). It is unpublished, but not unsung. The beneficent be·nef·i·cent adj. 1. Characterized by or performing acts of kindness or charity. 2. Producing benefit; beneficial. [Probably from beneficenceon the model of such pairs as dd Jackson, the magnificent Things known as Magnificent include:
Ondaatje, Philip Michael Ondaatje , Austin Austin. 1 City (1990 pop. 21,907), seat of Mower co., SE Minn., on the Cedar River, near the Iowa line; inc. 1868. The commercial and industrial center of a rich farm region, it is noted as home to the Hormel meatpacking company, whose Spam Town museum Clark, and Linda A set of parallel processing functions added to languages, such as C and C++, that allows data to be created and transferred between processes. It was developed by Yale professor David Gelernter, when he was a 23-year old graduate student. and Michael Michael, archangel Michael (mī`kəl) [Heb.,=who is like God?], archangel prominent in Christian, Jewish, and Muslim traditions. In the Bible and early Jewish literature, Michael is one of the angels of God's presence. Hutcheon Hutcheon can refer to:
Adj. 1. morale-improving support. Finally, I laud my wife, Geeta Paray-Clarke, whose precepts and passions colour every note of these cantos. Quebecite was written in Vancouver Vancouver, city, Canada Vancouver, city (1991 pop. 471,844), SW British Columbia, Canada, on Burrard Inlet of the Strait of Georgia, opposite Vancouver Island and just N of the Wash. border. , British Columbia British Columbia, province (2001 pop. 3,907,738), 366,255 sq mi (948,600 sq km), including 6,976 sq mi (18,068 sq km) of water surface, W Canada. Geography ; Toronto Toronto (tərŏn`tō), city (1998 est pop. 2,400,000), provincial capital, S Ont., Canada, on Lake Ontario. Toronto is the largest city in Canada and since the 1970s has been one of the fastest-changing cities in North America, experiencing , Ontario Ontario, city, United States Ontario, city (1990 pop. 133,179), San Bernardino co., S Calif., near Los Angeles, in a region of vineyards; inc. 1891. ; Montebello Montebello, village, Canada Montebello (mŏntĭbĕl`ō), village (1991 pop. 1,022), SW Que., Canada, on the Ottawa River NE of Ottawa. It is a summer resort in a lumbering and farming area. , Ville
Ville is the French word for city or town. The derivative suffix "-ville" is commonly used in English in names of cities, towns and villages. Ville is also a name for a boy in Finland and Sweden. de Quebec Quebec, city, Canada Quebec, Fr. Québec, city (1991 pop. 167,517), provincial capital, S Que., Canada, at the confluence of the St. Lawrence and St. Charles rivers. , and Pointe-au-Pic, Quebec; Winchester Winchester, town, England Winchester (wĭn`chĭstər), town (1991 pop. 34,127) and district, county seat of Hampshire, S central England. , England England, the largest and most populous portion of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland (1991 pop. 46,382,050), 50,334 sq mi (130,365 sq km). It is bounded by Wales and the Irish Sea on the west and Scotland on the north. ; Barcelona, Spain Spain, Span. España (āspä`nyä), officially Kingdom of Spain, constitutional monarchy (2005 est. pop. 40,341,000), 194,884 sq mi (504,750 sq km), including the Balearic and Canary islands, SW Europe. ; and Pointe Aux Canonniers, Mauritius-the Afro-Asian adj. 1. of or relating to the nations of Africa and Asia or their peoples. Adj. 1. Afro-Asian - of or relating to the nations of Africa and Asia or their peoples; "Afro-Asian population" nation with the red, blue, yellow, and green rainbow flag-between 2001 and 2003 C: Is Aristotle's Poetics your seduction guide? M: He knows the laws about mirth and ruth. But James Brown's cries be the Gospel's truth. You're not afraid? Are you dissatisfied? C: My feelings ... I cannot say just yet. We've kissed. But you're not Othello, and you're no sadist. COLETTE drains her cognac. C: The key to my heart seems to be whiskey. M: I'm always off-key-lest I have whiskey. MALCOLM puts away the saxophone. He and COLETTE enter the bed and, under the covers, doff their bathrobes. MALCOLM looks softly at COLETTE, and then softens the light. Feel here a rose-gold lame Lagerfeld vibe. M: Colette, your beauty's as natural as honey. To portray you, sonneteers need apply God paints almost too bright for flesh. C: When I was a girl, about twelve, Mama ushered us to a Parti Liberal fete-all those Brit Quebecois kvetching, and I wore a shite sundress she boutht me that was totally, utterly, see-through, showing everything-and no bra! Imagine.... M: I cast you thus-like a magician: "Abracadabra"! MALCOLM removes COLETTE's white unlaced corset from under the covers and casts it aside. Rain drizzles pizzicato, petulant, upon the window. M: Let this night be our bed.... C: Malcolm, are you like Casanove, callow? Am I a morsel you'll taste and swallow And forget ... in just an ellipse-Like a satisfied gourmet wiping his lips? M: Colette, all my heart-felt, honest kisses Are rich, riche, rigorously religious. George Elliott Clarke George Elliott Clarke (born February 12 1960) is a Canadian poet and playwright. Born in Windsor Plains, Nova Scotia, he has spent much of his career writing about the black communities of Nova Scotia and served for a time in the African-American Studies department at Duke is an Associate professor of English 1. English - (Obsolete) The source code for a program, which may be in any language, as opposed to the linkable or executable binary produced from it by a compiler. The idea behind the term is that to a real hacker, a program written in his favourite programming language is at the Univerity of Toronto. His most recently published work is: Odysseys Home: Mapping African-Canadian Literature, University of Toronto Press, 2002. |
|
||||||||||||||||
Printer friendly
Cite/link
Email
Feedback
Reader Opinion