In Which My Wife Breaks Through a Brick Wall

Ever the one to follow the advice of pretty Norwegian literary critics (see below)  I have – with the help of my dear wife – messily backstroked my way through the last two or three copies of that inimitable fishing  and literature journal, Majfisk.

When I say ‘with the help of my wife’, of course, I do not mean to suggest – as some have hinted –  that I am too lazy to pick up a magazine by myself. Reports that my wife reads everything out loud to me are, I insist, grossly exaggerated. In fact the only occasions on which I do enlist her help are those in which I find my trial blocked by the inevitable brick wall of language. I don’t mind admitting it: my knowledge of European languages is not as extensive as it might be, whilst my wife’s is, well, vastly superior. Without her assistance, a Swedish text (such as Majfisk) would be almost impenetrable. I could, perhaps, poke a small hole or two in that wall – but that would be all. And why struggle on like so when someone in the same house owns a bulldozer?

As to the aforementioned articles in Majfisk– those in which the ‘true nature’ of Kesserman’s Black Hair is revealed – I hope you will permit me at present to take a seat on the fence. It’s true, there is something spurious about the tale, but I’m not yet convinced that it was intended as a weapon of mass propaganda.


2 thoughts on “In Which My Wife Breaks Through a Brick Wall

  1. On the contrary, my genetic makeup denies the possibility of my ever mastering Swedish.
    And to think I called you pretty..

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