The Ateneo Grand Splendid Bookstore
It's in this beautiful old theater.
First, let’s admire that name. There’s no pretense of modesty in christening your theater the Grand Splendid. Built in 1919 by an Italian architect in the eclectic style, the theater entertained Buenos Aires for a decade with top-tier tango concerts, before it was converted into a popular cinema. In 2000, the building was leased by a publishing house and found new life as a bookstore.
The conversion from theater to bookshop has proved nothing short of magnificent. The painted ceiling, detailed balconies, and stage are all intact. The private boxes are now small reading rooms. The stage is a café, where you can sit and peruse books you’re considering buying. And though it occupies three floors, there’s not an overwhelming selection — the shelves fit perfectly around the theater’s original shape, and comfortable chairs are scattered throughout.
The Ateneo Grand Splendid is a bookstore in which to spend a leisurely couple hours. Choose a couple books and get cozy in a theater box. And if you get weary of reading, just look around… there’s plenty more to feast your eyes on.
My dad made a joke about resistance being futile when he talked to them and they had never heard that before.
My boss told me that her daughter works with a guy whose first name is Rohan. This guy is a foreign student, and he mentioned that in the university's international student organization, there's another guy whose first name is Rohan.
(This is a long setup for a silly comment.)
My boss asked her daughter, "So when they get together, do they call themselves Rohirrim?"
My boss told me about it because she said I would be the only person in the office who would get it.
Seriously??
Apparently. It's hard to believe.
That's awesome, Tep.
My boss told me about it because she said I would be the only person in the office who would get it.
I am very sad that no one in my office knows I would get that. On the other hand, I am hiding.
I cued up the Journey during my lunch break. So now I have to start listening to All The Music all over again.
People are making no sense today, I had a dentist appointment, cramps and a bloody nose. Thank you, Wednesday.
I'd be incapable of not calling them Rohirrim.
I'd still like to know how collective names are decided. I mean, why Rohirrim (which I love beyond measure, IJS), and not Rohanians? Rohanites? Rohanese? Who decides? Is it a grammatical function of the language? In which case, why Ohioans and not Ohioese? Floridanites? Texasites? My whole life I've attempted to find out what the rules are about this...nobody knows! Or if they know, they won't tell me!
The movie theater in my home town was not nearly as grand as that amazing bookstore--much smaller, with only one mezzanine and two boxes, but in much the same style, with a center leaded lace glass medallion and painted ceiling, Athena and horses and chariot over the proscenium arch, plaster rosettes and garlands everywhere, and curved stone-faced walls. The accoustics were wonderful for live performances. It was one of two indoor theaters until I was in my teens, so I saw half my childhood movies there. And of course there was the Saturday morning Battle of the Bands held onstage for local bands.
When strip malls sprang up in the suburbs, each one boasting a theater, later a cineplex, the downtown theaters lost custom, and this one fell into disuse and disrepair. Eventually, NC School of the Arts foundation bought it and converted it to exclusive live performance space, extending the stage into former audience space and reshaping the proscenium arch. Unfortunately Athena and her horses were destroyed, and so were the boxes. But the rest of the space was preserved, and is in constant use, so I suppose I should be grateful.
I had a dentist appointment, cramps and a bloody nose.
Wow. Have yourself a drink or three tonight, lady. You deserve it.
I'd still like to know how collective names are decided.
Tolkein pretty much invented an entire language for them, and that is how you make collective nouns in his language.