Carla Bruni

First of all, this will be a very quick post because I am le sick and should really be going over these notes for an in-class essay I have to write tomorrow morning at 9:30, BUT I had to share this.

I went record store browsing today in Toronto with my friend Jeff. Being broke I decided not to purchase, but I couldn’t help but squeel when I saw that Carla Bruni had an album sitting on the shelves of HMV. It’s called No Promises. She is an incredible French singer-songwriter that I adore. I was a bit wary of the fact that this album appeared to be in English, and due to my extreme brokeness I decided to pass and told Jeff I would download it and see if it was any good. When we got in the car he surprised me with the cd. He had bought it for me while I was looking at other things (I bought the movie The Apartment on DVD cause it was pretty cheap and who can resist a young Jack Lemmon?).

So after watching my new movie upon my return to Hamilton this evening, and after a very sweet unexpected visit from le boy involving stones thrown up at my window and him putting me to bed (because I am le sick), I got up again (with the intention of going over my notes) and popped in my new cd. There’s a neat little feature connecting to a “private” part of the website with photos and lyrics and so forth. As I browsed the album booklet I discovered that all the lyrics are actually poems from the likes of William Butler Yeats, Wystan Hugh Auden, Emily Dickinson, Walter de la Mare, Dorothy Parker and Christina Georgina Rossetti (one of my favorites and from whose poem Promises Like Pie-Crust comes the album title). It’s absolutely wonderful. There’s a very cute moment in Ballade at Thirty-five where she pronounces the “t” at the end of bouquet, which is hilarious because it’s a loan word from french so she knows how to pronounce it. I’m thinking it’s even funnier if she did this intentionally, which is likely cause she must have had advisors on how things are pronounced. I adore Carla Bruni.

Anyway, that’s all. Back to schoolness. Ugh. The sniffles bum me out.