А так как...
Nov. 2nd, 2003 03:52 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
gr_sиз-под капота повалил неожиданный дым, и начавшаяся было поездка за город с целью колки закупленных дров отложилась до следующей недели, то вывод я из этого сделал самый естественный - придется вам, друзья мои, читать мой первый рассказ, написанный по-английски. Надо сказать, что ввиду лени язык этот я никогда не изучал, овладевая им как-то так по ходу дела.
Речь, собственно, о моем английском и пойдет.
The Truth About my English
My English is awful.
Nevertheless, I have no problem with understanding.
When I am abroad, colleges, waiters, and office managers understand me quite easily, as well. It seems, English-speaking people even feel pleasure talking with me. At least they laugh when I joke.
But I’m firmly convinced that my English is simple, even poor. I know that I blunder too often, so foreigners mentioned above are very kind to me. At the same time, they are honest, invariably sending me an important message.
- Where did you learn English? It’s very nice!
I know pretty well from my friends - who are much more experienced in English - when you really have a perfect command in English, nobody simply recognized it. And nobody will announce that fact, at least in the person.
I remember my conversation with one French investment banker. It was ten years ago.
The guy was an offspring of the famous French aristocratic family, very well known in Europe for centuries. Trained as a banker in New York in the late sixties, he was still sporting, and by the way, very arrogant. To be arrogant, he taught, is very good for keeping your health. But what is important - you have to be sincere in your arrogance, without any sign of imitation.
It was after long working session, very hard, with too much of clashing between two parties of the very sensitive deal, with a lot of mutually aggressive behavior. We had been very exhausted that night.
We were walking along Boulevard Haussmann, searching for a bar, and I asked him something like:
-- Ely, tell me something.
-- Do you have the patience to ask me later, when we get the bar?
-- Ely, we were fighting all this damned week, and soon we’ll be seating and drinking gin and white wine, and I’m afraid I will forget my question.
-- Go ahead.
-- Tell me the truth about my English.
-- Okay, – he got obviously happy. – To tell the truth, you are awful. But you know, your English is just like a disabled boy with leg amyotrophy. Ugly but always smiling, he scrambles, more nimble than his healthier playmates due to the fact that he really must be smarter just in order to step. But, I should say, you have no slightest idea about English grammar. And your accent is really funny!
I was at the moment very, very proud. Since then, I stopped forever all attempts to improve my English grammar and pronunciation. I gave up to gain an understanding of English tenses, despairing to learn when they use ‘have been’ and when they don’t.
But nowadays, being an old-buffer, I try to read now and again grammar manuals. Seating in an armchair, each time I frankly start from Chapter One.
But someway it always happens along toward Saturday evenings, when I’m tired and/or absorbed in thought. After no more than five minutes, the manual drops to the carpet. Noding and blinking, I begin to fall asleep, but for a moment I have time to see my wife or my son or my syster or my mother or my niece, covering me with a plaid before put out the light.
Речь, собственно, о моем английском и пойдет.
The Truth About my English
My English is awful.
Nevertheless, I have no problem with understanding.
When I am abroad, colleges, waiters, and office managers understand me quite easily, as well. It seems, English-speaking people even feel pleasure talking with me. At least they laugh when I joke.
But I’m firmly convinced that my English is simple, even poor. I know that I blunder too often, so foreigners mentioned above are very kind to me. At the same time, they are honest, invariably sending me an important message.
- Where did you learn English? It’s very nice!
I know pretty well from my friends - who are much more experienced in English - when you really have a perfect command in English, nobody simply recognized it. And nobody will announce that fact, at least in the person.
I remember my conversation with one French investment banker. It was ten years ago.
The guy was an offspring of the famous French aristocratic family, very well known in Europe for centuries. Trained as a banker in New York in the late sixties, he was still sporting, and by the way, very arrogant. To be arrogant, he taught, is very good for keeping your health. But what is important - you have to be sincere in your arrogance, without any sign of imitation.
It was after long working session, very hard, with too much of clashing between two parties of the very sensitive deal, with a lot of mutually aggressive behavior. We had been very exhausted that night.
We were walking along Boulevard Haussmann, searching for a bar, and I asked him something like:
-- Ely, tell me something.
-- Do you have the patience to ask me later, when we get the bar?
-- Ely, we were fighting all this damned week, and soon we’ll be seating and drinking gin and white wine, and I’m afraid I will forget my question.
-- Go ahead.
-- Tell me the truth about my English.
-- Okay, – he got obviously happy. – To tell the truth, you are awful. But you know, your English is just like a disabled boy with leg amyotrophy. Ugly but always smiling, he scrambles, more nimble than his healthier playmates due to the fact that he really must be smarter just in order to step. But, I should say, you have no slightest idea about English grammar. And your accent is really funny!
I was at the moment very, very proud. Since then, I stopped forever all attempts to improve my English grammar and pronunciation. I gave up to gain an understanding of English tenses, despairing to learn when they use ‘have been’ and when they don’t.
But nowadays, being an old-buffer, I try to read now and again grammar manuals. Seating in an armchair, each time I frankly start from Chapter One.
But someway it always happens along toward Saturday evenings, when I’m tired and/or absorbed in thought. After no more than five minutes, the manual drops to the carpet. Noding and blinking, I begin to fall asleep, but for a moment I have time to see my wife or my son or my syster or my mother or my niece, covering me with a plaid before put out the light.
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no subject
Date: 2003-11-01 08:02 pm (UTC)оффтопик-2 - Леня В. прислал мне сырой транскрипт своего выступления в М. По-моему, ценный продукт.
no subject
Date: 2003-11-02 02:17 am (UTC)2. Да, это хороший семинар был.