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mousme"S'il-vous plaît... dessine-moi un mouton."
Anyone who has been to Capricornucopia knows about![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
sorceror's hilarious adaptation of Antoine de Saint-Exupéry's children's book, Le Petit Prince (aka The Little Prince), as told by Machiavelli. Instead of a charming book about a little boy going from planet to planet meeting people and talking about his rose and his sheep, the Little Prince turned into a violent despot determined to rule every planet he came across by kicking their rulers off the edge.
I have to say, that's one of the best Capricornucopias we've ever had. I have never laughed so hard as whenchibipunkdemon went sailing off the stage with a joyful whoop as toughlovemuse dealt him a vicious (if entirely fictitious!) shove.
That being said, Le Petit Prince has been part of my life for much longer than that. Not surprisingly, I am now going to talk about my father. ;) When I was about three years old, my father read this book to me for the first time, but certainly not for the last. Have I mentioned that my father collects rare and antique books? Well, Le Petit Prince is no exception to that. My father owns no fewer than six different editions of the book, all of which have different significations to him.
Saint-Exupéry is a bit of a household hero for my family. Both my parents have read everything he's ever written, and while Le Petit Prince is a universal favourite, they have nothing but admiration for the man, who was a great thinker as well as a commercial and air force pilot. When France surrendered to Germany in World War II, he travelled to the US in order to convince them to take up arms against Nazi Germany. Really, his biography speaks for itself. I have no doubt that my mother's adoration for the man stems in no small part from his status as impoverished aristocracy, a status with which she was able to identify quite keenly, no doubt, especially when she was younger.
For my father, much like me, it was the sense of whimsy to be found in Le Petit Prince that was the main attraction. The quote with which I started this entry is very telling, for people who are fluent or at least proficient in French: the mix of the polite form "vous" and the imperative verb in the second person singular, which is more common, is incredibly striking. When I was very little, my father explained to me that there were very few languages which could accommodate this grammatical anomaly without it being completely lost in translation. In proper French, the phrase should either be "S'il vous plaît... dessinez-moi un mouton," or "S'il te plaît... dessine-moi un mouton," but not a mix of both. It's a very childlike mistake, the kind one makes when one is very young and understands that you have to say "vous" to a grown-up but forget that you need to conjugate your verbs the same way too.
Needless to say, this has stayed with me for over thirty years. Every time someone mentions the book, I can't help but think of it.
On a more amusing note, there was a TV series based on it when I was little, that I used to watch avidly, much to my parents' dismay (they're snobs, what can I say?). I still know the theme song by heart. XD
On that note, I shall leave you. I have to get ready for work now. Good night, and good luck!
Anyone who has been to Capricornucopia knows about
sorceror's hilarious adaptation of Antoine de Saint-Exupéry's children's book, Le Petit Prince (aka The Little Prince), as told by Machiavelli. Instead of a charming book about a little boy going from planet to planet meeting people and talking about his rose and his sheep, the Little Prince turned into a violent despot determined to rule every planet he came across by kicking their rulers off the edge.I have to say, that's one of the best Capricornucopias we've ever had. I have never laughed so hard as when
chibipunkdemon went sailing off the stage with a joyful whoop as toughlovemuse dealt him a vicious (if entirely fictitious!) shove. That being said, Le Petit Prince has been part of my life for much longer than that. Not surprisingly, I am now going to talk about my father. ;) When I was about three years old, my father read this book to me for the first time, but certainly not for the last. Have I mentioned that my father collects rare and antique books? Well, Le Petit Prince is no exception to that. My father owns no fewer than six different editions of the book, all of which have different significations to him.
Saint-Exupéry is a bit of a household hero for my family. Both my parents have read everything he's ever written, and while Le Petit Prince is a universal favourite, they have nothing but admiration for the man, who was a great thinker as well as a commercial and air force pilot. When France surrendered to Germany in World War II, he travelled to the US in order to convince them to take up arms against Nazi Germany. Really, his biography speaks for itself. I have no doubt that my mother's adoration for the man stems in no small part from his status as impoverished aristocracy, a status with which she was able to identify quite keenly, no doubt, especially when she was younger.
For my father, much like me, it was the sense of whimsy to be found in Le Petit Prince that was the main attraction. The quote with which I started this entry is very telling, for people who are fluent or at least proficient in French: the mix of the polite form "vous" and the imperative verb in the second person singular, which is more common, is incredibly striking. When I was very little, my father explained to me that there were very few languages which could accommodate this grammatical anomaly without it being completely lost in translation. In proper French, the phrase should either be "S'il vous plaît... dessinez-moi un mouton," or "S'il te plaît... dessine-moi un mouton," but not a mix of both. It's a very childlike mistake, the kind one makes when one is very young and understands that you have to say "vous" to a grown-up but forget that you need to conjugate your verbs the same way too.
Needless to say, this has stayed with me for over thirty years. Every time someone mentions the book, I can't help but think of it.
On a more amusing note, there was a TV series based on it when I was little, that I used to watch avidly, much to my parents' dismay (they're snobs, what can I say?). I still know the theme song by heart. XD
On that note, I shall leave you. I have to get ready for work now. Good night, and good luck!
