Monday

Hello, Ms. Helen T. Lowe-Porter! I didn't think I'd see you again so soon, in another book translation.

The UPS man just dropped off my latest Mann acquisition.

Looking over my past journal entries, I see that I haven't mentioned my change in reading plans. Recall that I intended to read the novel "Lotte in Weimar" (after a quick read of Goethe's "Sorrows of Young Werther") along with the non-fictional "Reflections of a Non-political Man". However, I learned that "Lotte" is only the thinnest of novels, not that it is a thin book (which Thomas hardly ever seemed to write) but that it is more essayistic, with only a few brush strokes to make it seem like a number of conversations between characters. I take it that it is more of a dialogue, kind of like Plato's work but more verbose. Since "Reflections" is essentially an essay, "Lotte" did not seem to be the best companion piece for a little relatively light entertainment by Mann.

Accordingly, I decided to go with "Doctor Faustus". I could have taken the opportunity to go with "Buddenbrooks", but I thought it would be better to deal directly with the Nazi theme at this time, and continue to hold off on "Buddenbrooks" for my next go-around with Mann (assuming that I ever actually manage to break away in the first place).

As for Porter's translation, rather than Woods, I was convinced by some of Amazon's amateur reviewers that Woods tended to low-ball his translation, simplifying, giving us more of a "Mann for Idiots" book. One reviewer gave us a sample paragraph, and I was moved. I was also reminded when I first took a look at Woods's "Magic Mountain", perhaps over ten years ago, and thinking that he seemed to dumb down the work, as compared to Porter's translation. Personally, I am glad to have both translations of "Magic Mountain", and I might even be willing to also have Woods's "Doctor Faust", but, right now, to start things off with "Faust", I want to go back to Porter.

Pop

Pop seems to be wearing his cowboy hat more regularly these days when he goes out on his rounds. Maybe he is feeling his manhood more after his big showdown with his dependent son over the kitchen clock. I wonder what mother would say about these hats. She would probably laugh, mock him a little. Which might be why he was not given to indulging himself this way before.

Wilfred

Well, that didn't end like I thought it would. I finished the fourth and final season of "Wilfred". I thought we were going to see Ryan dead in his bed from his suicide attempt, and maybe a real Wilfred dog would run in with the neighbors trailing behind and jump on the bed, lick Ryan's dead face, try to wake him up with his paws, and then just sort of cry on him. The reviews led me to expect a sad ending, an ending that would give me a good cry. Instead, the show actually went for a happy ending. It's Wilfred & Ryan forever (or at least for as long as Ryan lives, or should we say for as long as the show lives on in disks and tapes?). Life is all in your mind, kids!

No, the story is richer than that, I guess. That's why the tennis ball. It shows that Wilfred is not just in Ryan's mind. He is caught up in the play of supernatural forces beyond our normal, everyday world. It's not exactly like being Superman or a medium that can talk to the spirits of the dead, but it is kind of neat. In his lonely life, he has a special friend that is kind of imaginary but kind of more than that. I still would have preferred a suicidal ending, but I do not mind sitting through all four seasons, though I am glad it was only a half-hour show, and they could have shaved off a season or two as it is.