De Britse schrijver Evelyn Waugh werd geboren in Londen op 28 oktober 1903. Zie ook alle tags voor Evelyn Waugh op dit blog.

Uit: Brideshead Revisited

“I don’t particularly like him myself,” I said.
“Well, he’s always hanging round here, and the stiffer element in college don’t like it. They won’t stand for him at the House. He was in Mercury again last night. None of these people you go about with pull any weight in their own colleges, and that’s the real test. They think because they’ve got a lot of money to throw about, they can do anything.
“And that’s another thing. I don’t know what allowance my uncle makes you, but I don’t mind betting you’re spending double. All this,” he said, including in a wide sweep of his hand the evidences of profligacy about him. It was true; my room had cast its austere winter garments, and, by not very slow stages, assumed a richer wardrobe. “Is that paid for?” (The box of a hundred cabinet Partagas on the sideboard.) “Or those?” (A dozen frivolous, new books on the table.) “Or those?” (A Lalique decanter and glasses.) “Or that peculiarly noisome object?” (A human skull lately purchased from the School of Medicine, which, resting in a bowl of roses, formed, at the moment, the chief decoration of my table. It bore the motto Et in Arcadia ego inscribed on its forehead.)
“Yes,” I said, glad to be clear of one charge. “I had to pay cash for the skull.”

 

 

“You can’t be doing any work. Not that that matters, particularly if you’re making something of your career elsewhere–but are you? Have you spoken at the Union or at any of the clubs? Are you connected with any of the magazines? Are you even making a position in the O.U.D.S.? And your clothes!” continued my cousin. “When you came up I remember advising you to dress as you would in a country house. Your present get-up seems an unhappy compromise between the correct wear for a theatrical party at Maidenhead and a glee-singing competition in a garden suburb.
“And drink–no one minds a man getting tight once or twice a term. In fact, he ought to, on certain occasions. But I hear you’re constantly seen drunk in the middle of the afternoon.”
He paused, his duty discharged. Already the perplexities of the examination school were beginning to re-assert themselves in his mind.
“I’m sorry, Jasper,” I said. “I know it must be embarrassing for you, but I happen to like this bad set. I like getting drunk at luncheon, and though I haven’t yet spent quite double my allowance, I undoubtedly shall before the end of term. I usually have a glass of champagne about this time. Will you join me?”

 

 

De Engelse dichter en vertaler Jamie McKendrick werd op 27 oktober 1955 in Liverpool geboren. Zie ook alle tags voor Jamie McKendrick op dit blog.

 

Gij die hier binnentreedt
(naar Antonio Machado)

De diepten van de hel peilen en daar
ministers, sultans en geleerden ontmoeten,
Marilyn Monroe en Cleopatra,
de laatsten zo naakt als op de dag van hun dood:
audiënties verlenen waar het je uitkomt,
en waar niet, je lip optrekken in minachting
of behendig een vuistslag in de nier uitdelen,
in de zekerheid dat je arm krachtig wordt ondersteund..
Je laten rondleiden door iemand die toevallig
Vergilius blijkt te zijn – en je houdt van zijn gedichten..
Schrijven zoals een beitel in steen hakt,
zodat elke zin die je neerschrijft voor eeuwig blijft weerklinken:
LAAT ALLE HOOP VAREN… Ga jij maar eerst.
Nee, echt, ik sta erop – ga jij maar voor.

 

Vertaald door Frans Roumen

 

 

Zie voor nog meer schrijvers van de 28^e oktober ook mijn blog van 28 oktober 2025 en ook mijn blog van 28 oktober 2018 deel 2 en eveneens deel 3.