Rubriik: lugemispäevik

Zatopek was a bald, self-coached thirty-year-old apartment-dweller from a decrepit Eastern European backwater when he arrived for the 1952 Olympics in Helsinki. Since the Czech team was so thin, Zatopek had his choice of distance events, so he chose them all. He lined up for the 5,000 meters, and won with a new Olympic record. He then lined up for the 10,000 meters, and won his second gold with another new record. He’d never run a marathon before, but what the hell; with two golds already around his neck, he had nothing to lose, so why not finish the job and give it a bash?

Zatopek’s inexperience quickly became obvious. It was a hot day, so England’s Jim Peters, then the world-record holder, decided to use the heat to make Zatopek suffer. By the ten-mile mark, Peters was already ten minutes under his own world-record pace and pulling away from the field. Zatopek wasn’t sure if anyone could really sustain such a blistering pace. “Excuse me,” he said, pulling alongside Peters. “This is my first marathon. Are we going too fast?”

“No,” Peters replied. “Too slow.” If Zatopek was dumb enough to ask, he was dumb enough to deserve any answer he got.

Zatopek was surprised. “You say too slow,” he asked again. “Are you sure the pace is too slow?”

“Yes,” Peters said. Then he got a surprise of his own.

“Okay. Thanks.” Zatopek took Peters at his word, and took off.

When he burst out of the tunnel and into the stadium, he was met with a roar: not only from the fans, but from athletes of every nation who thronged the track to cheer him in. Zatopek snapped the tape with his third Olympic record, but when his teammates charged over to congratulate him, they were too late: the Jamaican sprinters had already hoisted him on their shoulders and were parading him around the infield. “Let us live so that when we come to die, even the undertaker will be sorry,” Mark Twain used to say. Zatopek found a way to run so that when he won, even other teams were delighted.

McDougall, Chris (2010-12-09). Born to Run (pp. 96-97). Profile Books UK. Kindle Edition.

Japanese used to have a color word, ao, that spanned both green and blue. In the modern language, however, ao has come to be restricted mostly to blue shades, and green is usually expressed by the word midori (although even today ao can still refer to the green of freshness or unripeness—green apples, for instance, are called ao ringo). When the first traffic lights were imported from the United States and installed in Japan in the 1930s, they were just as green as anywhere else. Nevertheless, in common parlance the go light was dubbed ao shingoo, perhaps because the three primary colors on Japanese artists’ palettes are traditionally aka (red), kiiro (yellow), and ao. The label ao for a green light did not appear so out of the ordinary at first, because of the remaining associations of the word ao with greenness. But over time, the discrepancy between the green color and the dominant meaning of the word ao began to feel jarring. Nations with a weaker spine might have opted for the feeble solution of simply changing the official name of the go light to midori. Not so the Japanese. Rather than alter the name to fit reality, the Japanese government decreed in 1973 that reality should be altered to fit the name: henceforth, go lights would be a color that better corresponded to the dominant meaning of ao. Alas, it was impossible to change the color to real blue, because Japan is party to an international convention that ensures road signs have a measure of uniformity around the globe. The solution was thus to make the ao light as bluish as possible while still being officially green.

Guy Deutscher, Through the Language Glass: Why the World Looks Different in Other Languages

“How much do you love me?” Midori asked.
“Enough to melt all the tigers in the world to butter,” I said.

Haruki Murakami, Norwegian Wood

Eile nägin esimest korda elus inimest, kes kasutas raamatupoes ostukäru. Jah, seal poes on need alati olemas olnud, aga ma olen seda seni peeneks huumoriks pidanud. Mis mõttes “ostan nii palju raamatuid, et ei suuda süles kassani kanda”?

Muidugi käis mu peast läbi küsimus, kelleks ma pean suureks saades hakkama, et ka nii teha.

Õnneks sain vastuse ka, kuna härra ütles kassas püsikliendisoodustuse saamiseks oma nime. Tegu oli tuntud investeerimispankuriga:)

(“Kõlab nagu sisekujundusprojekt,” kommenteeris küüniliselt esimene sõber, kellele ma seda lugu jutustasin. Aga see on minu meelest küll puhas õelus. Pealegi, Mihkel Muti ja Mati Undi ostmine riiulikaunistuseks oleks ikka liiga kaheksakümnendad.)

(kaheksakümnendatest rääkides, need on tagasi nii ehk nii – ise ostsin “Kolm musketäri”, “Kakskümmend aastat hiljem” ja “Saladusliku saare”…)

Lugesin mitmetuhandendat korda Lindgreni Soolavarese-raamatut ja leidsin midagi, mida, võiks vanduda, pole seal iial enne olnud:

Melker asus innukalt töö kallale. Tööd oli rohkem, kui ta oli arvanud, aga pusides vestles ta leebelt ning julgustavalt iseendaga.

“Tean kahte meeldivat asja,” lausus ta, kui oli renni paika saanud, “õieti tean isegi kolme asja, mis ületavad iga mõistuse – see kaval puurenn, vee tee otse kööki ja Melker Melkerssoni tee järjest kõrgema tarkuse juurde.”

Selline parafraas sellises kohas – ja ma pole seda MITTE kunagi varem märganud! Tasub, alati tasub vanu lemmikuid uue elukogemuse taustal üle lugeda…

(kui see veel ilmne ei ole, siis Õp. 30, 18-19)

ma olen vaadanud seda “things to do before you’re 30”-nimekirja, mis blogides viimastel nädalatel liikunud on, ja ma tean ka, kust see pärineb, sest ma ise otsisin mõni aeg tagasi netist just sedasama. checklistipede nagu ma olen. aga mulle meeldis rohkem see teine, mille ma leidsin:
30 things to do before you hit 30

seda, mis mul tehtud ja mis veel tegemata, ütlen aasta pärast, praegu võite ise mõistatada. võin ennustada, et kinnisvaraturule ma selleks ajaks veel sisenenud pole, ja maratonijooksu suhtes ei anna ka lubadusi. aga ma ei ole aasta pärast ka sugugi veel 30 ;)

mis mulle selle nimekirja juures kõige rohkem meeldib, on see, et see sisaldab must-read raamatute ja must-see filmide alamnimekirju. (ei, valetan, see on teisel kohal; kõige rohkem meeldib see, et ta pole nii, hmm, oksendamiskeskne kui see teine:P)

ootuspäraselt olen ma raamatutega päris hästi järjel:

You may need 30 years to read them all, but try and make your way as through as many of these as possible: The Catcher in the Rye, 1984, Romeo and Juliet, the Harry Potter series, The Lord of the Rings trilogy, One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, To Kill a Mockingbird, Brave New World, On the Road, Catch 22, Trainspotting, The Wasp Factory, Lord of the Flies, Fahrenheit 451, Animal Farm, Of Mice and Men, Great Expectations, Tess of the D’Urbevilles, Treasure Island, The Beach, Cloud Atlas, The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, Ulysses, For Whom the Bell Tolls, The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime, Life of Pi, The Shining, The Handmaid’s Tale, A Prayer for Owen Meany, The Shining, Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy, A Suitable Boy and many, many more.

samas kui filmidega… mnjah:

If you want to avoid being left out of every drunken discussion just before last orders are called, then the following films are required viewing: Goodfellas, Pulp Fiction, Scarface, The Star Wars Trilogy (don’t bother with the new ones), Godfather parts I and II, Psycho, One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, Trainspotting, 2001: A Space Odyssey, Top Gun, American Pie, Gladiator, The Lord of the Rings Trilogy, Blade Runner, Kill Bill 1 & 2, City of God, The Deer Hunter, Se7en, Fight Club, Back to the Future, Alien and Aliens, Jaws, This Is Spinal Tap, Die Hard, Life of Brian, Ghostbusters, Groundhog Day, Ferris Beuller’s Day Off, Life is Beautiful, The Breakfast Club, Grosse Pointe Blank, Stand By Me, Chinatown, The Great Escape, The Outsiders, and Tango and Cash. Well, maybe not the last one.

kui suureks saan, hangin teleka.

ma lugesin ka seda tui hirve raamatut. mitte et see lihtne oleks olnud, osta ma ei raatsinud ja raamatukogus on kõik eksemplarid peale ühe viimane kuu aega järjekindlalt staatuses “töötluses”, mis, ma kahtlustan, tähendab seda, et kõik raamatukogutöötajad tahavad ta enne ise läbi lugeda, kui rahva kätte annavad:)

anyway, tuntud kiirlugejana olen täiesti võimeline keskmise pehmekaanelise raamatu paari osavalt hajutatud apollos- ja rahva raamatus-käigu jooksul läbi lugema, nii et seda ma tegin.

teate, mulle meeldis.

see on see raamat, mille mina ja E plaanisime omal ajal mu ema soovitusel kirjutada (“kirjutage romaan,” pakkus ta, kui ma haigena voodis olin ja jube igav hakkas, “selline, kus oleks autoga poisid ja vanemate pikad komandeeringud,” ja me proovisimegi, aga me olime vist ikka natuke liiga noored veel. mis nähtub kasvõi raamatu tööpealkirjast, mida ma siinkohal EI avalda). see on selline raamat nagu eia uusi “kuu külm kuma” ja kenderi “ebanormaalne” ja natuke nagu hirami “mõru maik” ehk. see raamat, mida kõik loevad ja vinguvad, et “ähh, elust maha kirjutada oskan mina ka,” aga nad ei saa aru.

see on see raamat, kus sa kirjutad välistest asjadest enamvähem nii, nagu nad olid, aga sisemistest asjadest nii, nagu sa tahaksid, et nad oleksid olnud. raamat, kus sina, minategelane, oled silmipimestavalt ilus, lõikavalt vaimukas, hirmutavalt intelligentne ja liigutavalt hea (aga vahepeal ka seksikalt paheline). raamat, kus sa parandad kõik vead, mis sa elus oled jõudnud teha – ja see, et sa veel noor oled, ei tähenda, et sa poleks jõudnud neid palju teha.

ma tunnen selles raamatus enda minaideaali ära ja sellepärast see meeldibki mulle.