Leaving no stone unterned : home... - Partage et Divers

Leaving no stone unturned

My father was a botanist, but now he pushes up daisies. He had the idea for the strawberry Charlotte. As specialist, he couldn't name plants, flowers or vegetables simply, always the Latin names. I had my brain as marmalade, but because of him I had good notions of Latin. That was essential afterwards to threat the Franciscan funds – most of the documents were written in Latin. By walking in the mountains to fetch some plants, he taught me how to have prudence, patience without beating about the bush¹, and how to call a spade a spade². Then I became a library's agent, the vocabulary was essential, and patience too. My job is different than his, but the method may be the same.

I joined the National and University's Library in 2007. The new boss was the cat set among the pigeons by the Ministry. At first he looked friendly : better watch out for the skin deep³ ! As kind as King Kong in a bad sight, he holds the pistol on each one's head to have productivity and to rule an administrative system. Everybody was to be twisted round his little finger.

As a documentation's agent, productivity wasn't my pigeon. My method forbids me to put the cart before the horse. I couldn't imagine that, by coming to the BNU, I was putting my head in the lion's den. Impossible to change your colours when you're taught a job correctly, take it from me ! Before BNU, rather by the same time, I was offered two other jobs, one by the Rhine Opera and one by the Adults' formation centre in Eschau. But I had better the religious sciences' proposition in BNU, it was for me the bacon to bring home. I was so proud to do that. No regret.

Maybe I was a bit too credulous, so sure I could be inserted by the library, by the system. That's counting chickens before they are hatched. I believed they were puling my leg when I was given stupid orders. I was maybe a bull in a china shop by thinking “let me fry my fishes, set me free”, I surely spilled the beans by saying “I've got other fishes to fry, number is not my business” ; endless I was caught red-handed drinking coffee with these young ladies, friends of mine who were simply my colleagues.

The employer got rid of me before my director began to work on the Franciscans' exposition : very logical ! But only the boss is right. My director had been led up the garden path, he and I were cut the ground from under our feet : two expressions my father could have used : for he (my father) and I curiosity was the main thing. But for most people curiosity killed the cat (or the boss⁴). My director slammed the door and left the BNU three months later. It's a pity for the library : after the cat, I think they killed the goose that lays the golden eggs.

When I learned about the reason I was sent off, you could have knocked me down with a feather. I wonder who let the cat out of the bag, but professional secrets are usually discovered in the administrative system. No more religious sciences, I lost my religion⁵. Back to unemployment and, since then I've been leaving no stone unturned to find a new job.

JB - 2014

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

1There are lots of bushes in the mountains !

2And a spade is important for a botanist, to dig and to hold some plants

3cf. this wonderful song from The Stranglers « Skin deep », Aural Sculpture, Epic, 1984

4The boss, who is the cat set among the pigeons

5cf. « Loosing my religion », hit from R.E.M., 1991 ; in French I could have said « lost my Latin »

↑ Retour

→ Klassenarbeit 2 : « weil die Welt auch ganz verrückt ist »

← Histoire en anglais, histoire familiale n°1