An English In Kentucky


















 Tuesday July 28th 2015 Tim Candler9


     The cure is lethargy, an hour or two with the weather forecasts, abstaining from the comment sections of newspapers, shaving irregularly and a little canning in the company of the outdoor stove with its community of fiercely defensive biting creatures. It's not that complicated. But I do have a copy of the Atlas Maior of 1665, it's a Printed With Suspect Ink Edition from the less feudal decade of the 1990's, some smart-arse reckoned the coffee table book buying public might be interested and I fell for it when the Books A Million business model was surrendering to the inevitable.

     Yes indeed those where the bad old days before Hedge Funds owned countries and state agencies had a proper handle on the security risk posed by whether its populace used nail scissors or nail clippers. Quite what happened, I don't know. But back in the 1930's Edwin and Willa Muir first translated Franz Kafka's Das Schloss from the German into English. Kafka himself had been dead a while when his work entered the lexicons of the more fashionable English Speaking People. Edwin Muir himself was an Orcadian, which means he was born on the Orkney Islands, a kind of isolated and lonely place where Puffins also live. Yet sometime today, I will attempt to shave.


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