Tag: books

Misguided Lessons with Grok: A Bilingual Blunder | August 19 2025, 23:43

Today Grok blew my mind. I say, teach me French. He says, ok, how do you say “book”? I say “le livre”. He says “wrong! la livra”. 😳The car drives itself anyway, decided to record the dialogue. He’s not convinced. At all, insists on his point. La livra and that’s it. I’m afraid Grok will teach the bad stuff in his Language Tutor mode.

I remembered a story from “Memoirs of Pushkin” by M. E. Yuzefovich, dating to 1829:

he had several books with him, including Shakespeare. One day in our tent, he translated some scenes to me and my brother. I had once studied English, but having not fully learned it, I subsequently forgot it. However, I still recognized its sounds. In Pushkin’s reading, the English pronunciation was so distorted that I suspected his knowledge and decided to test it. The next day, I invited his relative, Zakhar Chernyshev, who knew English as his native language, warned him what was going on, and called over Pushkin with Shakespeare. He willingly started translating for us. Chernyshev burst into laughter at the first words read by Pushkin: “First tell me, in which language are you reading?” Pushkin laughed in turn, explaining that he had taught himself English, and therefore he reads English letters like Latin ones. But the fact is that Chernyshev found the translation completely correct and the language understanding impeccable.”

Anna Derevenitskaya

From Miniare to Miniature: The Evolution of Book Illustration | August 14 2025, 14:52

How interesting, the word “Miniature” turns out not to derive from minimus (Latin), meaning “smallest”, but from miniare, meaning “to color with cinnabar or red lead”.

The word is connected to the practice of book illustration in the Middle Ages. You have probably seen images of medieval manuscripts with dense black text and a large, decorated initial letter. In the earliest bound books, they were not so ornate—just a big letter, colored red to stand out. In Italy, the verb miniare referred to the stage of painting red initials, usually left until last, and the art of illustration itself was called miniatura.

Over time, these initial decorations became increasingly complex, evolving into fully developed scenes with little figures, animals, and buildings. But, of course, since the scenes had to fit into the corner of a page, they were very small. And therefore, because a miniature in a book was like a tiny painting, the meaning of the word expanded—it came to denote any small version of something larger.

Exploring Must-Have Russian Books for Science and Art Lovers | August 10 2025, 14:01

Can you recommend some interesting books to bring (or order) from Russia to the USA, considering my interests (popular science, primarily local non-translations from English, as I can read the originals in English, and perhaps drawing) and various other intriguing things (see part of my collection)?

Time Bending Flights: Greeting Seattle a Quintillionth of a Second Younger | July 19 2025, 05:19

It’s funny to stare at a sentence in a book that says when you fly to the other end of the USA, you become younger than everyone else by a quintillionth of a second — at the moment when you’re sitting on the plane flying to the other end of the USA.

Hello, Seattle!

AI-Powered Smart Glasses: Revolutionizing Real-Time Discussion and Information Access | July 15 2025, 20:19

Here’s what would be great to do with AI – a system that reads the screen, listens to what’s being discussed on the call, including what you say, and what is said to you, and _on the screen_, and better yet, directly on smart-glasses, gives pop-up tips and hints that help you timely ask a counter-question or request a clarification, or respond to a question directed at you. Not just for passing interviews, although that would also be nice, but for more effectively conducting discussions — from technical to commercial ones.

In the case of smart-glasses, you could enjoy this without a computer in front of your eyes. I’m just afraid of having to send absolutely everything that happens around you to the cloud, analyze it, and return it in real time, which is technologically challenging (=expensive).

Such a system would be no less useful for conducting interviews than for passing them. For example, you ask someone a question, they start to respond, and then the system suggests — aha, it seems they are struggling with this topic. Let’s ask this question. Then you decide whether to ask this or something else. Why not? It’s convenient. Of course, the interviewee could employ the same system, and then it would not be simple.

Right now, I’m flipping through a book by Johannes Itten on color, and I think about how I miss dynamic illustrations and commentary. I’ve reached Piero della Francesca and for the life of me, I can’t recall what his paintings are like. This is where smart-glasses would come in handy. You look at a word, snap your fingers, and around it appear pop-up windows with contextual illustrations, comments, and links to detailed information, which you can visit now, or save to read later. It would be possible to ask any question verbally while looking at the text segment it pertains to and get an answer not verbally, but in a pop-up window that you can quickly close if you didn’t find anything new, or perhaps add a clarification by voice, after which the content in the window updates.

If I had smart-glasses, I would experiment with this. It seems straightforward.

Treasures in Translation: A Glimpse into Rare Russian Reprints | July 09 2025, 01:27

Nadia from Russia just brought me three books I ordered. “The Art of Color” by J. Itten, “Americans and Everyone Else” by I. Kurilla, and this one, Holodkovsky’s commentary on his translation of Faust. Interestingly, it seems that these commentaries are not available in Russian.. to be more precise.. in modern Russian. There is a reprint of the original 1914 edition, created based on a high-resolution electronic copy that was manually cleaned and processed, preserving the structure and spelling of the original edition, and it seems it was not translated into modern Russian. However, there are no difficulties in reading the reprint.

Unveiling the Mystery of the Original Declaration of Independence | July 04 2025, 02:36

Tomorrow is July 4th – Independence Day.

I’m currently reading about it. It turns out that the authentic Declaration of Independence is lost to history, and the document labeled “Original Declaration of Independence” in the National Archives is actually a copy.

By the way, about 80% of the text of the declaration lists why the king is bad. Literally. He doesn’t do this, he doesn’t do that, he forgot about us here, he didn’t remember there. It’s just a straight protest of no kings. The last paragraph of the long text essentially says, in sum, forget him. We want to handle it ourselves.

Jefferson prepared the draft of the Declaration of Independence with all the usual revisions—crossed out words, inserts in the gaps, etc., all written in his poor handwriting. This document exists and is very interesting.

The rest of the committee approved the text, and Jefferson then created a fair copy (still in his bad handwriting and just the size of a regular sheet), which was presented to Congress, voted on, adopted, and received its first signatures. This “fair copy” was the real original Declaration of Independence—and it is precisely this one that is lost.

Later, Congress decided that a version suitable for publication was needed—bigger and, of course, not written in Jefferson’s terrible handwriting. For this, they hired a professional copyist. When he made his copy, Congress held a re-signing. This version by the copyist has the label “Original Declaration of Independence” on the back and is the one currently displayed in the National Archives. It was “original” only in the sense that it served as the master copy for printing.

So what happened to Jefferson’s “fair copy,” the genuine original Declaration of Independence? No one knows. It might still be somewhere in the archives, lost among other documents. Or perhaps someone took it home and preserved it, or maybe it was destroyed by time and circumstances, such as when the British burned Washington.

In 1989, a man named Michael Sparks bought an old painting at a flea market in Pennsylvania for $2.48. When he removed the frame, he discovered a rolled-up piece of paper behind it. This turned out to be one of the rare “Dunlap Broadsides”—the first 200 printed copies of the U.S. Declaration of Independence, printed on the night of July 4 to 5, 1776, by John Dunlap.

This find was in excellent condition and was sold at a Sotheby’s auction in 1991 for 2.42 million dollars (and later resold for even more). This isn’t Bitcoin!

A bit about the dates. On July 2, Congress voted for independence. Not the 4th. On July 4, it was formally ratified by Congress, they spent two days making minor formal amendments, having already decided on the substance. No signatures yet. The date on the document, of course, is the 4th. Copies were printed and sent out the next day. Eventually, the ones sent out were signed by the delegates only on August 2.

Three of the first five American presidents died on this day. Jefferson, Adams, Monroe. Jefferson was in fact the father of this declaration, with Adams, they found the time. So maybe July 2nd would be a more appropriate day to celebrate.

Yes, also—technically—America did not gain independence in 1776. It happened only after the signing of the Treaty of Paris (September 3, 1783), when Britain said: “Alright,” and recognized America as a separate state.

If the War of Independence hadn’t turned in favor of America, Washington (like most of the founding fathers) would likely have been executed for treason. But since it turned out otherwise, they picked that day.

Faustian Dialogues in Modern Project Management | June 20 2025, 15:00

I think project managers can very well speak to developers in the words of Faust.

Well, here we go again, in the old manner

With you – all is uncertainty, all doubts,

In everything you create difficulties,

And for all, you wish for new rewards!

When will you, without any further talk, —

One, two: look, — and everything is ready soon!

(For context – this is Faust’s reaction to the refusal of the seemingly omnipotent Mephistopheles (Devil) to bring Helen of Troy and Paris from the realm of shadows to the stage for the Emperor’s amusement)

director

Don’t forget anything:

What can be done immediately,

Why put it off till tomorrow?

We must instantly grasp

All that is necessary and possible

(…)

“You have poorly executed it,

And left a gap in the corner”

And the designer might reply:

And you do not see, how vile and shameful

This craft?

Am I not an artist?

To the Manager:

“Fire! Help! Hell! We are all going to burn now!”

Exploring Faust and the Zoologist: The Dual Life of Translator Khodkovsky | June 18 2025, 04:06

I’m listening to the second part of Faust and simultaneously googling translator Holodkovsky. It turns out that translating Faust was something of a hobby for the scholar-zoologist Holodkovsky, spanning 60 years. Holodkovsky has hardly any original writings—only translations, and from the translations, everything else, as they say, is minor details.

That is, Goethe wrote Faust for 60 years, and the entomologist-translator translated it for 40 years and spent another 20 catching bugs, imagine? What a scale of projects.

In fact, apart from being the author of probably the best translation of Faust, Holodkovsky is almost absent in literature. But as a zoologist, he left much more of a mark. True, it’s hard for non-entomologists to read without a smile, but here are his main works: “Male Genitalia of Diptera,” “Atlas of Human Helminths,” “On the Oral Organs of Some Insects Parasitizing Humans,” “Coexistence and Societies of Animals,” and others.