Strawberry fields

It should come as no surprise that I absolutely LOVE spring. Love Love Love. As in, we should probably be planning the wedding. I've got about a billion reasons, but some of the most important: I hate being cold (and always am), am probably clinically addicted to sunshine, and given a choice, will always go barefoot or wear flip flops over regular shoes.

Not to mention the fresh fruits and vegetables.

Over the past few weeks, as the sun has made its appearance and the birds have started singing at ungodly hours of the morning, the produce men at the local markets have brought out a new line of foodstuffs. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, it's strawberry season!

Now, I am really more of a raspberry girl. However, my preferred fruit not being available, I have been known to go pretty steady with bananas, and occasionally cheat with an apple or peach. Strawberries I like but won't necessarily seek out. 

After seeing these little red beauties appear over the last few weeks, however, I finally decided to see what all the fuss was about and fork over 3 euros for a little barquette. 

My friendly produce man (who is about as stereotypical as they get: jolly, chatty, with dirt under his fingernails and the thickest southern accent I've yet heard) tells me as he's weighing my produce that it's starting to be strawberry season, but (waggling his finger in a knowing manner) the fruit will be better later, maybe mid-May. And, handing me a strawberry for the road, sends me off. 

All I can say is that I can't imagine one single unhappy Frenchman come May. Because already, these were hands down the best strawberries I've ever had. European strawberries are smaller, more seasonal, and more flavorful than their American counterparts (I think it has something to do with not growing them in hothouses, genetically engineering them, or smothering them with pesticides. But that's just me).

I happily consumed half the container with my sandwich, the perfectly ripe fruit bringing me back to my first time in France: first stop Paris, a little room above a bustling pedestrian street which filled with a market every morning. For breakfast each day I without fail ate an entire box of fresh raspberries and a flaky croissant in the sunshine. Is it any wonder I fell in love with France?

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some strawberries to eat.

Goodness Me I Miss My Dryer.

http://www.slate.com/id/2290317
I feel like the same artist also did IKEA instructions.

On dubbing

So those who know me are familiar with my obsession with Colin Firth (Mr. Darcy...'nuff said). This celebrity crush, along with good reviews from family, friends, and the experts in charge of Golden Globe and Academy Award nominations, have made me really really want to see The King's Speech. I have been waiting for weeks for it to finally reach the cultural backwaters (Albi). Each week I look up the movie listings only to be disappointed. Until this week. As I was enjoying the lovely sunshine yesterday, I walked by the movie theater and was very excited to see that Colin Firth would soon be gracing my local movie screen.
My patience and lawfulness (despite being sorely tempted, I have not watched a bootlegged version on the internet) were about to be rewarded!
Then two little letters showed me how wrong I was: VF.
This stands for Version française (French Version), which means that the movie has been dubbed in French (as opposed to subtitling).
It was at this moment that it occurred to me that I had a built-in ranting vehicle in my blog. So hold onto your hats, ladies and gentlemen, here we go:
First, let's talk about the absolute ridiculousness that is dubbing. My primary complaint is that it greatly reduces  the enjoyment of the viewing experience. The fact that the sound doesn't match up with the lips is irritating, extremely obvious and jarring when projected on a large screen, and indeed makes the whole thing faintly ridiculous. This is, of course, rather exacerbated by the new voices, which not only sound nothing like the original actors' voices, but also all seem curiously similar, as though one male and one female voice actor were contracted to do all the work. Or perhaps robots were chosen, as they additionally seem incapable of conveying the appropriate emotions. I don't know about you, but I prefer not to be giggling through a serious drama because of an over-the-top voice that screams out a full sentence where the actor's lips form a single word.
This effectively not only reduces the overall quality of the film, but also the value as the product of another culture. If I wanted to go to a movie and hear French, I would go to a French movie. Part of the value of an international movie is you get to experience another culture, including a foreign language. And, although I know we're not the major audience abroad, it's rather nice for the expats. Not to mention the fact that, in the particular case of  The King's Speech, language is a major issue, and I hazard a guess that a lot would be lost in translation.
Dubbing also adds a wholly unnecessary level of expense and delay to international exports. Whereas subtitling can be accomplished with a team of translators, dubbing adds another step and more expenditures in voice actors and recording another soundtrack. So not only do I not get my movie in its original form, I get it much later.
This all relates of course to live-action films. Jury's still out on animated movies. The ostensible reason for dubbing as opposed to subtitling, of course, is protection of cultural heritage. As animated movies are usually meant for a younger audience which often cannot read and is still learning its native language, I am inclined to find dubbing less of a problem here. But as for older audiences, I'm pretty sure that they are both fully literate and well integrated into their native culture. I repeat, if you are uncomfortable hearing any language but your own in a movie theater, why are you paying to see this movie? I would also like to add that the French government spends a whole lot of money on its cultural protectionism (here I will admit I think the US has some things to learn in terms of cultural, historical, and artistic subsidies). It also has paid for me to be here. What I mean by this is that the French also spend a lot of money to bring in native speakers of other languages so that their children can hear authentic speech because they have decided that French people are not gifted at foreign languages, especially as regards pronunciation. Now, is it me or could foreign films perhaps be a source of authentic foreign speech...or at least if left undubbed?
Well, silly me for expecting rational government decisions. Next I'll be asking for the importation of cheddar cheese. Meanwhile, I'll have to either go to Toulouse to see Colin Firth in English, wait for it to come out on DVD, or check out my illegal download options.