Iona

excerpt I couldn't make out too much from the hunter's stubborn taciturnity. Sandu, the publican, kept talking again and he was either unable to tell me or feigned to be ignorant of the things that I wanted to find out. And he tried to dazzle me by talking too

It seems the wedding gift is no longer a must in Săpînţa. When they go to the wedding in the evening, people are stirred by the fiddles and guitars. They've no more patience to sit still, they want to break their shoes dancing. Though the peasant ones have been replaced

excerpt Kiseleff road is a sort of a Romanian Bois de Boulogne. It is here that rich women display their outstandingly sumptuous garments and rigs. On Sundays and on holidays everybody comes to have a walk on the Road, which renders transport almost impossible. Wonderful

excerpt At sundown we'd trail back to the boarding house, have a quick bite, and then entreat Gaffer Bodranga to pipe unto us. Theology students would converge in droves upon our place, for it had come to be their haunt; and we'd dance the whole night through,

excerpt Baneasa used to be the favourite meeting place for those living in Bucharest. It was there that they came to listen to the cuckoo singing for the first time, pretending that in this monotonous song they discovered the secrets of their lives. Back then Bucharest

Barbu Lautaru rustled up his physical and artistic resources, desirous to make an impression on Franz Liszt whom he met during the great Hungarian virtuoso's visit to Moldavia. Their encounter became famous thanks to an article carried by the French weekly La Vie Parisienne,

excerpts Chapter XV. Scenes of Social Life The beautiful autumn days of the year 1817 had already flitted along with the joys they bring to pass for the inhabitants of Romania. Winter had made quite an early appearance and the western wind had by now started to blow in

One might think that all men desire pleasure because they all aim at life (…). Pleasure completes (…) life, which they desire (…). But whether we choose life for the sake of pleasure or pleasure for the sake of life is a question we may dismiss for the present. For

For well over one year, since I and the retiring actor Stelian Nistor marketed our tee-vees to see the magazine Everybody's Cuisine through the press, our peers, notably those at The Catzavencu Academy, never fail to cheek me: You meatball-journalist, recipe commentator,

In White Moor by Ion Creangă, the Rabelais-tinged philosophy of Gaster (the Belly), (Mikhail Bakhtin) represents one of the tests the main character has to pass in order to marry the daughter of the Red Emperor. As in any fairy-tale, be it in its cultivated variant, nothing

excerpts At the end of every winter, in a hall illuminated by electric lights and covered by wooden floors, near the Central Station, at Locomotiva, the Craftsmen's Ball was the event of the season. Craftsmen from all over Bucharest brought their wives to party and

In General Ionescu's garden, the April dusk brought a harsh wind and sprayed dust in the horizon like a bluish mist, spreading heaps of apricot tree flowers over the fresh vegetable beds. Ion, the general's first orderly, in charge of sweeping the flowers laid