Has no-one had a go. I expect Bazza, Bill and Chris are beavering away in secret!
Marooned on a desert island with the entire works of Proust in French, that looks like a downer, particularly if your French was never better than O level. But my choice, hubristic though I thought, even at the time, that it was, turned out a winner. A diet of coconuts and cactus juice makes it imperative I pass more than just wind daily to avoid la grippe. Helas! Yet my Crusoe soul abhors waste. Since my cheapskate Bible and Shakespeare lack both strength and absorbency it is necessary I decipher both obverse and reverse of at least one page of the divine Marcel – the Shakespeare of our inner world - every day. That fills in the time; it also adds to my education. Should my rescuers turn out to be matelots francais I shall be able to entertain the honest fellows with the truly intellectual conversation all Frenchmen delight in!
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