Stands Scotland where it did?

So Paris went well. Delivered my paper, answered questions, went to my supervisor's paper, went to look at art. Saw some marvellous Cézannes and Redons in the Musée d'Orsay and something in the region of 100 Kandinsky paintings in the Pompidou Centre. I saw a two-volume Cézanne catalogue raisonné in a Cambridge bookshop today for £80 and am presently trying to justify buying it. It is, unbelievably, a bargain.

Went to Edinburgh, where I stayed with a friend, and thence across to a rather grim part of Glasgow for a workshop on museums. Although I got to see the store 'pods' for all the Glasgow museums, the talks were very pedestrian, despite their titles. But, back in Edinburgh, my friend introduced me to some interesting philosophers and I got to see the library of T. L. S. Sprigge. A real treat! It turns out that he had a shelf-ful of books by Santayana, on whom I may have to read Sprigge himself together with his magnum opus, The Vindication of Absolute Idealism. A far cry from his short Theories of Existence which I remember reading as an undergraduate.

I now ought to be writing my popular essay on Christmas but can't be arsed. That's why I'm writing this instead and listening to Life is Killing Me by Type O Negative to cheer myself up... And I've just bought some monsoon malabar online.

(Navet by Redon.)

Gai Paris

So I'm going to Paris on Thursday to deliver my conference paper. Much good may it do me. I plan to walk one of Beckett's favorite routes, though I shall not visit his grave in Montparnasse - his work is quite depressing enough.

Listened to a sermon at Evensong tonight - God uses people who grumble, I was told. From where I stand he's been working overtime.

Read a short story by Balzac called 'The Atheist's Mass'. Raised some interesting questions but I was expecting more. Something that cut deeper.