a short site about The Divine Comedy

French version

The Booklovers

Original version (5:50)

Audrey Hepburn: “This book deals with epiphenomenalism, which has to do with consciousness as a mere accessory of physiological processes whose presence or absence... makes no difference... Whatever are you doing?”

Aphra Behn: Hello.
Cervantes: Donkey.
Daniel Defoe: To christen the day!
Samuel Richardson: Hello.
Henry Fielding: Tittle-tattle, tittle-tattle.
Lawrence Sterne: Hello.
Mary Wolstencraft: Vindicated!
Jane Austen: Here I am!
Sir Walter Scott: We’re all doomed.
Leo Tolstoy: Yes!
Honoré de Balzac: Oui.
Edgar Allan Poe: Aaaarrrggghhhh!
Charlotte Brontë: Hello.
Emily Brontë: Hello.
Anne Brontë: Hellooo?
Nikolai Gogol: Vas chi.
Gustav Flaubert: Oui.
William Makepeace Thackeray: Call me William Makepeace Thackeray.
Nathaniel Hawthorne: The letter A.
Herman Melville: Ahoy there!
Charles Dickens: London is so beautiful this time of year.
Anthony Trollope: Good eveni good-e goo-goo-good-e good-e good-e good-evening
Fyodor Dostoevski: Here come the sleepers.
Mark Twain: I can’t even spell Mississippi!
George Eliot: George reads German.
Emile Zola: J’accuse!
Henry James: Howdy Miss Wharton!
Thomas Hardy: Ooo-arrr!
Joseph Conrad: I’m a bloody boring writer.
Katherine Mansfield: cough, cough
Edith Wharton: Well hello, Mr James!
DH Lawrence: Never heard of it.
EM Forster: Never heard of it!

Happy the man and happy he alone,
Who in all honesty can call today his own;
He who has life and strength enough to say:
“Yesterday’s dead and gone.
I want to live today.”

James Joyce: Hello there!
Virginia Woolf: I’m losing my mind!
Marcel Proust: Je m’en souviens plus.
F Scott Fitzgerald: ba bababa ba.
Ernest Hemingway: That’s ‘Papa’ to you, son.
Hermann Hesse: Oh es ist alle so hässlich.
Evelyn Waugh: Whoooaarr!
William Faulkner: Tu connais William Faulkner?
Anaïs Nin: The strand of pearls.
Ford Maddox Ford: Any colour, as long as it’s black!
Jean-Paul Sartre: Let’s go to The Dôme, Simone!
Simone de Beauvoir: C’est exact, présent.
Albert Camus: The beach, the beach.
Franz Kafka: What do you want from me?!
Thomas Mann: Mam.
Graham Greene: Call me Pinkie, lovely
Jack Kerouac: Me car’s broken down.
William S Burroughs: Wowwww!

Happy the man and happy he alone,
Who in all honesty can call today his own;
He who has life and strength enough to say:
“Yesterday’s dead and gone.
I’m gonna live today.”

Kingsley Amis: cough
Doris Lessing: I hate men!
Vladimir Nabokov: Hello, little girl.
William Golding: Achtung Busby!
JG Ballard: Instrument binnacle.
Richard Brautigan: How are you doing?
Milan Kundera: I don’t do interviews.
Ivy Compton Burnett: Hello.
Paul Theroux: Have a nice day!
Günter Grass: I’ve found some snails!
Gore Vidal: Oh, it makes me mad!
John Updike: Run, rabbit run, rabbit run, run, run.
Kazuro Ishiguro: Ah so, old chap!
Malcolm Bradbury: Stroke John Steinbeck, stroke JD Salinger.
Iain Banks: Too orangey for crows!
AS Byatt: Nine tenths of the law, you know.
Martin Amis: Burp
Brett Easton Ellis: Aaaaarrrggghhh!
Umberto Eco: I don’t understand this either.
Gabriel García Marquez: Mi casa, tu casa.
Roddy Doyle: Ha ha ha!
Salman Rushdie: Names will live forever.