Στα ημερολόγια που έγραφε πριν από 150 χρόνια η Γαλλίδα συγγραφέας Ευγενία ντε Γκερέν (Eugénie de Guérin) μαθαίνουμε ότι το σκυλάκι της το φώναζε Τρίλμπι. Οι μελετητές θεωρούν πιθανό να πήρε από εκεί ο Τζορτζ ντι Μοριέ (George du Maurier) το όνομα που έδωσε στην ηρωίδα του πιο γνωστού μυθιστορήματός του. Η Τρίλμπι κυκλοφόρησε το 1895 και ήταν ένα από τα πιο δημοφιλή (και ευπώλητα) βιβλία εκείνου του καιρού. Το επώνυμο «ντι Μοριέ» το γνωρίζουμε από τη Δάφνη ντι Μοριέ. Ο Τζορτζ ήταν παππούς της, αλλά δεν είχε ευγενική καταγωγή. Ο δικός του παππούς έφυγε από το Παρίσι τη χρονιά της Γαλλικής Επανάστασης, φοβούμενος τη σύλληψη για απάτες. Στο Λονδίνο, όπου κατέφυγε μαζί με τους διάφορους αριστοκράτες, κότσαρε το «Ντι Μοριέ» στο όνομά του.
Ο Τζορτζ Ντι Μοριέ ήταν δίγλωσσος (γαλλικά από πατέρα και αγγλικά από μητέρα) και έγινε γνωστός για τις γελοιογραφίες του στο περιοδικό Punch και για τα τρία μυθιστορήματά του, κυρίως την Τρίλμπι, την ιστορία μιας κοπελιάς στο μποέμικο Παρίσι, η οποία πέφτει θύμα ενός ασυνείδητου υπνωτιστή, του Σβενγκάλι. (Η Τρίλμπι είναι εντελώς παράφωνη και καταφέρνει να τραγουδά επαγγελματικά υπό την επήρεια υπνωτισμού — κάτι που θα είχε φανεί πολύ χρήσιμο στη Φλόρενς Φόστερ Τζένκινς, αν και στην περίπτωσή της κάποιος πρέπει να υπνώτιζε το κοινό…).
Πριν το γυρίσει στο τραγούδι, η Τρίλμπι ήταν γυμνό μοντέλο. Δείτε το παρακάτω απόσπασμα, όπου γνωρίζεται με άλλους τρεις Βρετανούς καλλιτέχνες που παρεπιδημούν στο Παρίσι.
Προσέξτε τη διατύπωση: «I pose to him for the altogether», όπου το altogether αποδίδει το γαλλικό ensemble. Τα δείχνω όλα, δεν κρύβω τίποτα. Έτσι γεννήθηκε η έκφραση in the altogether, ολόγυμνος.
Το διάσημο αυτό μυθιστόρημα καθιέρωσε και τον Svengali στα αγγλικά, σαν κάποιον που ασκεί αρνητική υπνωτική επιρροή πάνω σε άλλους. Ο Τζέιμς Γκαλμπρέιθ στο πρόσφατο πολυσυζητημένο βιβλίο του ονομάζει τον Ντράγκι «ο υπνωτιστής της Φρανκφούρτης»: They have underestimated the half-hidden role of the Rasputins of Paris. And also that of the Svengali of Frankfurt, Mario Draghi, who as I write rumbles threats to the Greek banking system.
https://books.google.gr/books?id=l3o8DAAAQBAJ&pg=PT113#v=onepage&q&f=false
Πάνω απ’ όλα, το τρίλμπι έφτασε να συνδυαστεί με κάτι εντελώς απρόσμενο. Ήδη το 1895 το βλέπουμε να χρησιμοποιείται στα αστεία για το πόδι, επειδή η Τρίλμπι είχε όμορφα πόδια. Την ίδια ωστόσο χρονιά αρχίζει να χρησιμοποιείται για τη ρεπούμπλικα που φοράει ο Μπίλι, ένας από τους τρεις Βρετανούς θαυμαστές της Τρίλμπι. Το καπέλο αυτό θυμίζει το δικό μας καβουράκι ή το τιρολέζικο καπέλο και είναι ο τρίτος όρος που έχει μείνει από αυτό το μυθιστόρημα, αν και οι τρεις αφορούν την αγγλική γλώσσα και μόνο.
Διαβάζω στη Wikipedia:
Η πρώτη εμφάνιση της λέξης με αυτή τη σημασία αφορά το παρακάτω σκίτσο του Ντι Μοριέ:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/George_du_Maurier
http://www.victorianweb.org/art/illustration/dumaurier/pva95.html
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Trilby_(novel)
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Trilby_(play)
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Trilby
http://www.gutenberg.org/files/39858/39858-h/39858-h.htm
Καβουράκια: http://www.skroutz.gr/c/827/kapela/f/342810/Καβουράκι.html
Trilbies: http://www.lockhatters.co.uk/men/trilbies.html
Ο Τζορτζ Ντι Μοριέ ήταν δίγλωσσος (γαλλικά από πατέρα και αγγλικά από μητέρα) και έγινε γνωστός για τις γελοιογραφίες του στο περιοδικό Punch και για τα τρία μυθιστορήματά του, κυρίως την Τρίλμπι, την ιστορία μιας κοπελιάς στο μποέμικο Παρίσι, η οποία πέφτει θύμα ενός ασυνείδητου υπνωτιστή, του Σβενγκάλι. (Η Τρίλμπι είναι εντελώς παράφωνη και καταφέρνει να τραγουδά επαγγελματικά υπό την επήρεια υπνωτισμού — κάτι που θα είχε φανεί πολύ χρήσιμο στη Φλόρενς Φόστερ Τζένκινς, αν και στην περίπτωσή της κάποιος πρέπει να υπνώτιζε το κοινό…).
Πριν το γυρίσει στο τραγούδι, η Τρίλμπι ήταν γυμνό μοντέλο. Δείτε το παρακάτω απόσπασμα, όπου γνωρίζεται με άλλους τρεις Βρετανούς καλλιτέχνες που παρεπιδημούν στο Παρίσι.
Suddenly there came a loud knuckle-rapping at the outer door, and a portentous voice of great volume, and that might almost have belonged to any sex (even an angel’s), uttered the British milkman’s yodel, “Milk below!” and before any one could say “Entrez,” a strange figure appeared, framed by the gloom of the little antechamber.
It was the figure of a very tall and fully developed young female, clad in the gray overcoat of a French infantry soldier, continued netherwards by a short striped petticoat, beneath which were visible her bare white ankles and insteps, and slim, straight, rosy heels, clean cut and smooth as the back of a razor; her toes lost themselves in a huge pair of male list slippers, which made her drag her feet as she walked.
She bore herself with easy, unembarrassed grace, like a person whose nerves and muscles are well in tune, whose spirits are high, who has lived much in the atmosphere of French studios, and feels at home in it.
This strange medley of garments was surmounted by a small bare head with short, thick, wavy brown hair, and a very healthy young face, which could scarcely be called quite beautiful at first sight, since the eyes were too wide apart, the mouth too large, the chin too massive, the complexion a mass of freckles. Besides, you can never tell how beautiful (or how ugly) a face may be till you have tried to draw it.
But a small portion of her neck, down by the collar-bone, which just showed itself between the unbuttoned lapels of her military coat collar, was of a delicate privetlike whiteness that is never to be found on any French neck, and very few English ones. Also, she had a very fine brow, broad and low, with thick level eyebrows much darker than her hair, a broad, bony, high bridge to her short nose, and her full, broad cheeks were beautifully modelled. She would have made a singularly handsome boy.
As the creature looked round at the assembled company and flashed her big white teeth at them in an all-embracing smile of uncommon width and quite irresistible sweetness, simplicity, and friendly trust, one saw at a glance that she was out of the common clever, simple, humorous, honest, brave, and kind, and accustomed to be genially welcomed wherever she went. Then suddenly closing the door behind her, dropping her smile, and looking wistful and sweet, with her head on one side and her arms akimbo, “Ye’re all English, now, aren’t ye?” she exclaimed. “I heard the music, and thought I’d just come in for a bit, and pass the time of day: you don’t mind? Trilby, that’s my name—Trilby O’Ferrall.”
She said this in English, with an accent half Scotch and certain French intonations, and in a voice so rich and deep and full as almost to suggest an incipient tenore robusto; and one felt instinctively that it was a real pity she wasn’t a boy, she would have made such a jolly one.
“We’re delighted, on the contrary,” said Little Billee, and advanced a chair for her.
But she said, “Oh, don’t mind me; go on with the music,” and sat herself down cross-legged on the model-throne near the piano.
As they still looked at her, curious and half embarrassed, she pulled a paper parcel containing food out of one of the coat-pockets, and exclaimed:
“I’ll just take a bite, if you don’t object; I’m a model, you know, and it’s just rung twelve—’the rest.’ I’m posing for Durien the sculptor, on the next floor. I pose to him for the altogether.”
“The altogether?” asked Little Billee.
“Yes—l’ensemble, you know—head, hands, and feet—everything—especially feet. That’s my foot,” she said, kicking off her big slipper and stretching out the limb. “It’s the handsomest foot in all Paris. There’s only one in all Paris to match it, and here it is,” and she laughed heartily (like a merry peal of bells), and stuck out the other.
And in truth they were astonishingly beautiful feet, such as one only sees in pictures and statues—a true inspiration of shape and color, all made up of delicate lengths and subtly modulated curves and noble straightnesses and happy little dimpled arrangements in innocent young pink and white.
It was the figure of a very tall and fully developed young female, clad in the gray overcoat of a French infantry soldier, continued netherwards by a short striped petticoat, beneath which were visible her bare white ankles and insteps, and slim, straight, rosy heels, clean cut and smooth as the back of a razor; her toes lost themselves in a huge pair of male list slippers, which made her drag her feet as she walked.
She bore herself with easy, unembarrassed grace, like a person whose nerves and muscles are well in tune, whose spirits are high, who has lived much in the atmosphere of French studios, and feels at home in it.
This strange medley of garments was surmounted by a small bare head with short, thick, wavy brown hair, and a very healthy young face, which could scarcely be called quite beautiful at first sight, since the eyes were too wide apart, the mouth too large, the chin too massive, the complexion a mass of freckles. Besides, you can never tell how beautiful (or how ugly) a face may be till you have tried to draw it.
But a small portion of her neck, down by the collar-bone, which just showed itself between the unbuttoned lapels of her military coat collar, was of a delicate privetlike whiteness that is never to be found on any French neck, and very few English ones. Also, she had a very fine brow, broad and low, with thick level eyebrows much darker than her hair, a broad, bony, high bridge to her short nose, and her full, broad cheeks were beautifully modelled. She would have made a singularly handsome boy.
As the creature looked round at the assembled company and flashed her big white teeth at them in an all-embracing smile of uncommon width and quite irresistible sweetness, simplicity, and friendly trust, one saw at a glance that she was out of the common clever, simple, humorous, honest, brave, and kind, and accustomed to be genially welcomed wherever she went. Then suddenly closing the door behind her, dropping her smile, and looking wistful and sweet, with her head on one side and her arms akimbo, “Ye’re all English, now, aren’t ye?” she exclaimed. “I heard the music, and thought I’d just come in for a bit, and pass the time of day: you don’t mind? Trilby, that’s my name—Trilby O’Ferrall.”
She said this in English, with an accent half Scotch and certain French intonations, and in a voice so rich and deep and full as almost to suggest an incipient tenore robusto; and one felt instinctively that it was a real pity she wasn’t a boy, she would have made such a jolly one.
“We’re delighted, on the contrary,” said Little Billee, and advanced a chair for her.
But she said, “Oh, don’t mind me; go on with the music,” and sat herself down cross-legged on the model-throne near the piano.
As they still looked at her, curious and half embarrassed, she pulled a paper parcel containing food out of one of the coat-pockets, and exclaimed:
“I’ll just take a bite, if you don’t object; I’m a model, you know, and it’s just rung twelve—’the rest.’ I’m posing for Durien the sculptor, on the next floor. I pose to him for the altogether.”
“The altogether?” asked Little Billee.
“Yes—l’ensemble, you know—head, hands, and feet—everything—especially feet. That’s my foot,” she said, kicking off her big slipper and stretching out the limb. “It’s the handsomest foot in all Paris. There’s only one in all Paris to match it, and here it is,” and she laughed heartily (like a merry peal of bells), and stuck out the other.
And in truth they were astonishingly beautiful feet, such as one only sees in pictures and statues—a true inspiration of shape and color, all made up of delicate lengths and subtly modulated curves and noble straightnesses and happy little dimpled arrangements in innocent young pink and white.
Προσέξτε τη διατύπωση: «I pose to him for the altogether», όπου το altogether αποδίδει το γαλλικό ensemble. Τα δείχνω όλα, δεν κρύβω τίποτα. Έτσι γεννήθηκε η έκφραση in the altogether, ολόγυμνος.
Το διάσημο αυτό μυθιστόρημα καθιέρωσε και τον Svengali στα αγγλικά, σαν κάποιον που ασκεί αρνητική υπνωτική επιρροή πάνω σε άλλους. Ο Τζέιμς Γκαλμπρέιθ στο πρόσφατο πολυσυζητημένο βιβλίο του ονομάζει τον Ντράγκι «ο υπνωτιστής της Φρανκφούρτης»: They have underestimated the half-hidden role of the Rasputins of Paris. And also that of the Svengali of Frankfurt, Mario Draghi, who as I write rumbles threats to the Greek banking system.
https://books.google.gr/books?id=l3o8DAAAQBAJ&pg=PT113#v=onepage&q&f=false
Πάνω απ’ όλα, το τρίλμπι έφτασε να συνδυαστεί με κάτι εντελώς απρόσμενο. Ήδη το 1895 το βλέπουμε να χρησιμοποιείται στα αστεία για το πόδι, επειδή η Τρίλμπι είχε όμορφα πόδια. Την ίδια ωστόσο χρονιά αρχίζει να χρησιμοποιείται για τη ρεπούμπλικα που φοράει ο Μπίλι, ένας από τους τρεις Βρετανούς θαυμαστές της Τρίλμπι. Το καπέλο αυτό θυμίζει το δικό μας καβουράκι ή το τιρολέζικο καπέλο και είναι ο τρίτος όρος που έχει μείνει από αυτό το μυθιστόρημα, αν και οι τρεις αφορούν την αγγλική γλώσσα και μόνο.
Διαβάζω στη Wikipedia:
The London hat company Lock and Co. describes the trilby as having a “shorter brim which is angled down at the front and slightly turned up at the back” versus the fedora’s “wider brim which is more level.” The trilby also has a slightly shorter crown than a typical fedora design.
The hat’s name derives from the stage adaptation of George du Maurier's 1894 novel Trilby. A hat of this style was worn in the first London production of the play, and promptly came to be called “a Trilby hat”.
The hat’s name derives from the stage adaptation of George du Maurier's 1894 novel Trilby. A hat of this style was worn in the first London production of the play, and promptly came to be called “a Trilby hat”.
Η πρώτη εμφάνιση της λέξης με αυτή τη σημασία αφορά το παρακάτω σκίτσο του Ντι Μοριέ:
1895 Bradford Daily Argus 12 Nov. 1/8, I have been puzzling my head to account for the reason of so many soft hats being worn at present, and at last I have hit it. It is another phase of the ‘Trilby’ complaint. In one of the illustrations of the book Little Billee is ‘discovered’ wearing a hat of this description, so it has been seized upon by those worshippers at the shrine of Trilby, whom nature will not assist in the cultivation of a Svenjali [sic] beard or Taffy whiskers.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/George_du_Maurier
http://www.victorianweb.org/art/illustration/dumaurier/pva95.html
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Trilby_(novel)
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Trilby_(play)
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Trilby
http://www.gutenberg.org/files/39858/39858-h/39858-h.htm
Καβουράκια: http://www.skroutz.gr/c/827/kapela/f/342810/Καβουράκι.html
Trilbies: http://www.lockhatters.co.uk/men/trilbies.html
