An Exercise in Style
This Substack is under construction, but I thought I’d experiment some. I’m going to publish it half-finished like this, so I can do the Tweet that is related to it. Then I will revise it at some point in the future when I don’t have to mess with Hunter Biden’s plea deal, the bleak situation of tenure in Indiana, the MFSA website, and getting an amicus brief going for Speech First v. Sands’s cert petition.
The Tweet is here.
From the Barbara Wright translation of Raymond Queneau’s 1947 book, Exercises in Style:
Notes
On the S bus, at rush hour. A chap of about 26, felt hat with a cord instead of a ribbon, neck too long, as if someone’s been having a tug-of-war with it. People getting off. The chap in question gets annoyed with one of the men standing next to him. He accuses him of jostling him every time anyone goes past. A sniveling tone which is meant to be aggressive. When he sees a vacant seat he throws himself on to it. Two hours later, I meet him in La Cour de Rome, in front of the Gare Saint-Lazare. He’s with a friend who’s saying: “You ought to get an extra button put on your overcoat.” He shows him where (at the lapels) and why.”
The original French is:
Notations
Dans l'S, à une heure d'affluence. Un type dans les vingt-six ans, chapeau mou avec cordon remplaçant le ruban, cou trop long comme si on lui avait tiré dessus. Les gens descendent. Le type en question s'irrite contre un voisin. Il lui reproche de le bousculer chaque fois qu'il passe quelqu'un. Ton pleurnichard qui se veut méchant. Comme il voit une place libre, se précipite dessus. Deux heures plus tard, je le rencontre cour de Rome, devant la gare SaintLazare. Il est avec un camarade qui lui dit : « Tu devrais faire mettre un bouton supplémentaire à ton pardessus. » il lui montre où (à l'échancrure) et pourquoi.
Anecdotal
By odd coincidence, I ran into a distasteful young man twice yesterday in two very different parts of Paris. The first encounter was during rush hour on the S bus. I saw a chap in his mid-twenties with a stretched-out chicken neck and a felt hat with a cord instead of the usual ribbon. People were getting off, and he got mad at the man standing next to him, whom he accused of bumping into him whenever someone went past, in a tone meant to be aggressive but which came out more as snivelling. Eventually he saw a vacant seat and flung himself down on it.
Two hours later I saw him again, at La Cour de Rome, in front of the Gare Saint-Lazare train station. He was with a friend who told him to get an extra button put on his coat at the lapels and explained why that would help. I wonder— will I see him again, and remember that I saw him before?
Twittered
(1/6) By odd coincidence, I ran into a distasteful young man twice yesterday, in two very different parts of Paris. The first encounter was during rush hour on the S bus. I saw a chap in his mid-twenties with a stretched-out chicken neck. . . .
(2/6) His felt hat had a cord instead of the usual ribbon. People were getting off the bus and in a tone meant to be aggressive he accused the man standing next to him of bumping into him whenever someone went past. . . .
(3/6) His tone came out more snivelling than aggressive, though. Eventually he saw a vacant seat and flung himself down on it. . . .
(4/6) Two hours later I saw him again, at La Cour de Rome, in front of the Gare Saint-Lazare train station. He was with a friend who told him to get an extra button put on his coat at the lapels and explained why that would help. . . .
(5/6) I wonder— will I see him again, and remember that I saw him before? . . .
(6/6) For explanation, go to my Substack, “An Exercise in Style”. N'est un tweet jamais fini, seulement abandonné?
Google translate to French and get web comments. Publish quickly. Then talk about Daily Themes with Faith later, and add the French. and update. Also, later try out ChatGPT on this,. Use it to translate to French, and to write in English. Maybe make that a separate Substack.
Here is the ChatGPT translation of the Twitter version:
Gazouillis
(1/6) Par étrange coïncidence, j'ai croisé hier deux fois un jeune homme désagréable, dans deux quartiers très différents de Paris. La première rencontre s'est produite pendant l'heure de pointe dans le bus S. J'ai vu un type dans la vingtaine avec un long cou semblable à celui d'un poulet étiré...
(2/6) Son chapeau en feutre avait un cordon à la place du ruban habituel. Les gens descendaient du bus et d'un ton prétendument agressif, il accusa l'homme debout à côté de lui de le bousculer à chaque passage de quelqu'un...
(3/6) Cependant, son ton avait plutôt l'air pleurnichard que menaçant. Finalement, il a aperçu un siège vacant et s'est jeté dessus...
(4/6) Deux heures plus tard, je l'ai revu à La Cour de Rome, devant la gare Saint-Lazare. Il était avec un ami qui lui conseillait de faire ajouter un bouton supplémentaire à son manteau au niveau des revers, et lui expliquait pourquoi cela serait utile...
(5/6) Je me demande... le reverrai-je encore et me souviendrai-je que je l'avais déjà vu auparavant ?...
(6/6) Pour l'explication, rendez-vous sur ma Substack, "An Exercise in Style". Est-ce qu'un tweet est jamais vraiment fini, ou simplement abandonné ?"
Here’s ChatGPT 3.5 (July 30, 2023):
Amidst the hustle and bustle of rush hour, aboard the S bus, a chap around 26 years of age stood out in the crowd. His head crowned with a felt hat sporting a cord, a curious replacement for the customary ribbon. His neck, elongated like a giraffe's, appeared to have engaged in an ongoing tug-of-war with some unseen force. As commuters shuffled on and off the bus, an intriguing drama unfolded.
The aforementioned chap found himself vexed by one of the men standing beside him. In a peculiar display of attempted aggression, he launched into an accusation, claiming that the poor fellow jostled him relentlessly whenever anyone passed by. Though his tone aimed to be intimidating, it veered more towards a sniveling disposition.
Then, like a puppet whose strings were suddenly cut, the chap's eyes caught sight of a vacant seat. In a rather undignified manner, he flung himself onto it, seeking solace from the commotion that surrounded him.
Fast forward two hours, and lo and behold, destiny brought us together again in La Cour de Rome, right in front of the Gare Saint-Lazare. This time, he had a companion—a friend who offered a sartorial piece of advice. "You know, old chap," the friend said with a friendly grin, "it might be wise to add an extra button to your overcoat." The proposed location? The lapels, of course! The reasoning behind it? The friend elucidated the myriad benefits of such an addition, ensuring both style and functionality were duly accounted for. A chance encounter that left me marveling at the quirks and camaraderie of life's passages.
When ChatGPT twitterizes the English version of the notes, we get this.
🚍 On the S bus, during rush hour, ran into a weird chap, around 26, with a felt hat sporting a cord instead of a ribbon. Neck as long as a giraffe's, like it's stuck in a tug-of-war. People shuffling off, and this dude gets all riled up at his neighbor, accusing him of bumping into him whenever someone passes by. Dude's going for an aggressive tone but ends up sounding snivelly. 🙄 He finally spots an empty seat and dramatically throws himself on it. 🪑
⏰ Two hours later, bumped into him AGAIN at La Cour de Rome, near Gare Saint-Lazare. 🤦♂️ Now he's with a buddy who suggests, "Add an extra button on your coat, mate!" 👕 Friend explains why it's a great idea, pointing to the lapels. Fashion and functionality, you know! 💁♂️
Wonder if I'll see him yet AGAIN and remember I've seen him before? 🤔 Check out my Substack, "An Exercise in Style," for the full scoop! Is a tweet ever really finished, or do we just abandon it? 🐦 #EncountersOnTheSBus #ButtonedUpCoat #TwitterMusings
But I’m better at Twitter than ChatGPT.