#also “I need a man and I need him quickly”. out of context napoleon lines of all time

[redgoldblue]

sorry i watched the project strigas affair last night and i'm still thinking about. about the innocent's wife, anxious and upset, saying "I never should have let him out of my sight!!!" about her husband going undercover in possible danger, Napoleon replying, "I know how you feel," her doubtfully going "Oh do you really, Mr. Solo?" (fair), and then anything Napoleon could have said in response being interrupted by Illya, still in his undercover outfit, knocking on the door.

the first thing Illya says is grumpily informing us, the audience, that he's been out - undercover in possible danger - longer than was planned and that he couldn't contact Napoleon about it.

Napoleon makes this face in response

this seems fine and normal

[incorrect-ikevamp-quotes]

why does jean warn up to mc so quickly? ikevamp makes it clear that jean is a pretty reserved person and doesn't open up or let people in easily but he seems to let mc in quite quickly and it confuses me quite a bit.

Oh boy, where to begin with this one.

Well, I have a lot of Feelings^TM about this, but I'll try to be concise. Essentially, I think Jeanne doesn't recover in the other routes--or the general storyline--largely because he's just a lot to unpack narratively speaking. And without some pretty direct intervention, he has a hard time healing. MC’s direct intervention was meaningful because it was focused, consistent, and adapted to Jeanne’s specific needs. She also doesn’t make light of his experiences which is key; she fully understands that she can’t fathom what he’s been through. There is a very weighty respect and acknowledgement, a seriousness with which she treats his wounds that’s important.

It’s easy to make this a “why is MC nOt LiKe ThE oThEr GiRlS” but honestly that’s just not the sense I get when I look at all the information available to us. 

That being said, I also just feel like every person's recovery from traumatic events doesn't really look the same? I mean Leonardo’s cptsd isn’t going to operate the same way Jeanne’s wartime/Inquisition cptsd is going to operate. Some people require very individualized healing, others will often require a large scale group effort to lift them up.

Typically people don't ever just get over what happened to them and never worry about it again, either. It's usually a process of coping; the hope is that with time you find healthy ways to deal with grief and move forward. Therapists aren't magicians, they just help people process painful experiences/thoughts. It's honestly up to individuals to find meaningful ways to implement these tactics. 

Tl; dr: My contention is that Jeanne doesn’t open up or choose to stay alive because MC magically heals him, rather his recovery is a convergence of many people’s efforts and hopes that he stays alive. Gilles (he insists that Jeanne must live, asks him to promise), MC (affirms and bolsters that promise), Comte (makes a second life and recovery possible)--and in no small measure Mozart and Napoleon--all make an active effort to buoy him. As people often say, it takes a village to raise a child.

While Jeanne seems to respond most powerfully to MC’s attempts, it feels more like a product of chemistry/compatibility than it does a random cop out. There is no insinuation that only romantic love can heal; after all, MC gets close to him without any romantic intentions at first. They’re just good friends? It’s more that their feelings simply moved in a different direction after a point, which doesn’t necessarily happen all the time. Jeanne is also incredibly moved by Mozart’s love for him as a friend, Comte’s love for him as a father, and even Gilles’ love as a comrade to an extent. If anything, without their input Jeanne’s capacity for romantic love would be questionable at best.

Now, because I can never for the life of me stop analyzing, I have a more large scale outline of my thoughts below. Spoilers for Jeanne’s route:

If we look at Jeanne's life history, he has pretty specific trauma. Most of the harm he endured was a direct result of human rights violations after the war itself. He didn't enjoy fighting and killing people, but he's also very much a man that sees the reality of his position: it's either kill or be killed. His entire goal was to defeat the enemy as efficiently as possible in the hopes of ending conflict, and with his enormous resolve turns the tide. He had no innate interest in inflicting harm, or lack of control when engaging. He isn't pathological about it, and doesn’t dehumanize the other side. He was more "this was an act of necessity, but those are still human beings." So as far as I can tell he has a very strong moral compass and sense of duty, he doesn't show much delusion/confusion in that regard. (Also evident in his conversations with the young orphan boy.) Furthermore, he has been shown to have a sense of humor--cracking jokes with Gilles and boosting morale for his fellow soldiers.

His childhood abandonment is significant (he left his home because he was "not an adequate farmhand and they had no ability to feed all their children") but I don't know if I would consider it a huge trauma point for him. It seems as though he deemed it an act of necessity--not spite. It was simply the way of things, and he couldn't help his wiry constitution. You'd be surprised how common that was once upon a time, tbh... While it's certainly not right or fair, it does appear that in his perception it was the choice he made and he moved on after he became a soldier. Just focusing on what he could do, rather than everything he lacked. For people in his position, they often feel it is useless to linger on what should have been. There’s no time to linger or doubt, life hangs in the balance.

That leaves us with his time under the Inquisition, just before he was slated to be burned alive. I think this is the keystone trauma point for him, because there are a lot of moving parts to his powerlessness here. The first part is that his entire life's mission--ending the war so that people would no longer have to die and/or starve as a result of senseless violence--was just sabotaged. All those years of doing things he never wanted to do (wartime violence) and being forced to leave his family to ensure they didn't all starve, all of it treated like some kind of joke. Like he didn't sacrifice years of his life and sanity to protect a people who were happy to call him a monster and watch him burn alive. The second part is the overt gaslighting and rewriting of Jeanne's personal history (and overall French public perception) for the sake of the King's political agenda. To call him a treasonous danger to the country when he was once lauded a hero. The third portion is the actual physical helplessness of being arrested, starved, and continuously maimed for no reason beyond pure malice. While it's never right to do that to any human being, this was done to a man who prided himself on his stalwart moral code. To abuse and torture him for something egregious that he would never do (at the risk of death) is just another slap in the face to everything he is and believes in.

I just feel like the context clarifies why that period of time would be the tipping point. His entire moral code and life’s work is being called into question and swept aside, as well as his agency? He believes very powerfully in a sense of right vs wrong, what's fair and what isn't fair. Somebody else deciding that for him--and deciding in a way that is openly unfair/incorrect--further makes him lose himself and his sense of reality. A person in that situation begins to doubt if they are good or bad. His belief in god all the more pressing; if he was a good person, why would fate bring him so much suffering? Honorable soldier or not, his blade has drawn so much blood...

People often reference his stilted social skills (and I am of the belief that he is on the autistic spectrum) as a reason why he is so "people-adverse" but tbh? I don't agree. His memories before the onset of this trauma reveal that he was actually a very warm person, and that people were more than willing to fight under his banner. He had friends, and he had comrades--his country loved him. He was the picture of well-meaning civic duty. Just because he doesn’t integrate smoothly into larger social groups or adapt well to socially shifting circumstances, doesn’t mean he just hates people lmao. When people give him the space to exist within his comfort zone and don’t take advantage of him, he thrives. Compounded by that, we also have his actions in the present to further prove what is true and what isn't.

While he is stern with the orphan boy (I'm sorry I can't remember his name, damn it) there is no malice or cruelty in what he has to say. He doesn't punish the kid or do anything out of line. It may not be fair in terms of the adult level of discretion he asks of him, but the kid also didn't have a lot of options realistically speaking lmao. Same thing with MC, she and the orphan boy are nearly identical in how Jeanne treats them. He's a little rough, but the route reveals that his intentions are just a reflection of what he's been through. He truly believes that if a person isn't strong, they won't survive--because his entire life was a series of trying to be strong/reliable because nobody else would. There was nobody to protect him, and nobody to care for him went things went south. It was him and his sword against the world, and even his exceptional skill as a fighter did not protect him from the Inquisition's arbitrary torture. He has lived in a world where good acts can become absolutely meaningless, where following rules and helping people still gets you slaughtered. That's going to take a considerable toll on his mental health: where do you find the will to go on when the next second of your life could mean the devastation of everything that matters to you?

Spoilers: you don't. Or if you do, every minute of the day is a fight to stay alive. That is the point at which we meet Jeanne. Caught in the hellish whirlpool of wanting more, wanting better--but being terrified of the cost. The cost of hoping, only for his entire world to go up in flames again. It's not a small thing, in my view.

If you have any doubts as to whether or not that is the case, I direct you to literally every singular instance in which Jeanne's emotional sensibility goes visibly dark/south. When do these instances happen? When it rains, for one. And when Shakespeare deliberately starts pressing on his sensitivities: about the soldiers he was forced to kill, about the nation that spurned him, how he's truly "wicked" at heart and doesn't deserve to be happy--seconds before flames erupt for the festival. Does that really sound coincidental? I mean lmao. The rain is a painful reminder, but MC transforms that memory into something a little lighter with her bet. He has nothing to lose in her game, all she does is ask for time with him or offers him something if she loses. There's a playfulness there, a restoration of agency and ease that's invaluable to his recovery.

As for Shakespeare's deliberate retraumatization...I can't even begin to explain how damaging that event was. Shakespeare is undermining Jeanne's agency in that he--not unlike the corrupt monarch of Jeanne's era--is twisting Jeanne's beliefs to work against him. He knows full well that Jeanne doesn't feel like he deserves somebody so bright and understanding (we need to remember it's not really a luxury he's had much in life, especially after the war ended). He knows Jeanne has a tendency to impose that strict moral code on himself even more than he does on others. To reaffirm his every worst fear and lurking terror only throws Jeanne into a vicious downspiral. Jeanne doesn't reject MC out of disgust or hate. He rejects her because he literally cannot handle the concept of trying to be happy again, or of burdening her with his constant struggle to move on while he’s in the middle of a bad episode. He knows he won’t be able to stop reliving the past, that every second of his life and breath will be colored by his gruesome memories. He's trying as hard as he can to keep the intrusive thoughts quiet, to move on. But I'm not going to lie to any of you, that is incredibly difficult to do alone.

The next obvious question is, well why can't the other men help him? This isn't to say that they can't--we see how much solace Jeanne finds in Napoleon and Mozart. Even Isaac is gentle with the veteran. But there are limits to how much they can do. Napoleon is struggling with his own wartime trauma, and it's not identical to Jeanne's. Plus there’s a distinct difference in their sensibilities? Napoleon is the type to habitually seek comfort in helping others when he can't help himself, he's not as in tune with answering his own personal feelings and regulating them. (I mean just look at his new ES: he knows what he wants, but it takes a nudge from Isaac for him to go through with it.) He’s very communally reliant in ways Jeanne isn’t; Jeanne is a very private person, and typically prefers one on one from what I can tell.

Mozart is the definition of repression, and if you look at their interactions it's usually Jeanne that's smoothing over Mozart's rough edges. Mozart says as much himself: that he feels like a rotten friend because he knew Jeanne was struggling with a lot of intense trauma, but he didn't know how to unravel it without hurting him in the process. Mozart calls it personal cowardice, but honestly I just feel like they both had too much going on to be able to help each other effectively. (And Jeanne expresses this sentiment too? This idea that he's not angry with Mozart? He knows they're both carrying a lot, he's just touched Mozart cares about him in return.)

Okay, briefly unrelated, but like. Am I the only one that wheezes uncontrollably when Mozart is like "?????? Idk what it is about MC...I don't want her to be scared of me..." in his own main story in the baths. And Jeanne. IS TRYING SO HARD. NOT TO SPILL THE BEANS ABOUT HIM O B V I O U S L Y BEING IN LOVE. THE HILARITY I CAN'T DO THIS. Jeanne was like "yeah....yeah that's rough buddy.......[screams internally, give your boy time Jeanne he's fragile]"

Honestly? That's the thing about Jeanne too--he has incredible self-awareness and hyperarousal-related (I mean the PTSD kind, get your head out of the gutter) awareness to the people around him. He's very, very conscious of the fact that he is surrounded by geniuses when he can't even write his own name. Just because he has the fortitude not to lash out with his insecurities, doesn't mean he never feels stupid or inferior. And it doesn't help when there are people in the mansion who call him--a fucking war veteran from 500 YEARS AGO--nAiVe. He's not naive lmao. He just doesn't know how the world works so many years later, and it's a ridiculously steep learning curve? Leonardo and Comte are nearly 500 years old, but they lived throughout every hour of that time in a linear fashion. It is a big deal to be moved from 1430 to 1890 in the span of a second asynchronously, and then be expected to function without a hitch??? Given the circumstances he adapts well.

That atmosphere--this constant impatience with what he doesn’t understand, his inability to be caught up to speed quickly--is going to hinder his recovery lmao. He feels like a burden most of the time, and agency and freedom are crucial.

Another thing that occurs to me about the mansion's arrangement is that there is a power dynamic, just as any space with people in it has some level of hierarchy (unless you live with miraculously chill people). Jeanne is acutely aware that Comte is the most powerful being in that space, and he is not only hatefully angry at him--but likely afraid too. We have to remember that the biggest betrayal he witnessed in his life was at the hands of a monarch; it was the aristocracy that turned on him and erased the truth. Comte is openly a child that resulted from both that era and that type of lineage, I don't really blame Jeanne for being wary. He intimately knows how willing rich people are to throw normal folks under the bus to suit their ambitions/whims. Comte, while not deliberately threatening, also seems to be painfully aware of this impression he gives off. His "chad persona" as I've mentioned allows him to navigate his life in secret by necessity, but it’s actively damaging to his son. He can't reveal the truth because of Vlad's betrayal, and he's openly unsettled by what it could mean to be honest. Will they wonder about Vlad and find themselves ensnared under his mind control as Charles and Shakespeare are? Will Comte himself be subjected to the mortifying ordeal of being known only to lose them?? That's a risk he isn't willing to take--and that leaves him in a double bind.

What is it that they say, the truth will set you free? This is where MC and Comte come into enormous play when it comes to Jeanne's recovery. One thing to keep in mind is that most of the people in the mansion have their own traumas they're trying to carry, and I feel like a lot of them are unsure how to approach Jeanne. Or if they do, he's very guarded. It takes a lot of consistent effort to get through to him. What does MC do when Jeanne unleashes his harsh worldview on her? She's understandably frightened, but Jeanne isn't malicious (so she chases him around). In fact, he openly avoids and runs away from her--well aware that what he's done is wrong. If anything, he did it on purpose, bringing us right back to Shakespeare's verbal undoing; why does Jeanne attack her in the first place?

LMAO. He attacks her because she essentially says "oh thanks for helping me!" "I am not nice. Watch yourself." "But you seem like a nice guy to me?" "REEEEEE" Does the pattern become a little clearer? When people think kindly of him, his instinct is to shatter that illusion with an impulsive reprehensible act. When people think poorly of him or lash out, what does he do? When that orphan boy starts yelling and screaming, Jeanne is nothing but calm. He explains the situation, and offers the kid a choice, perfectly happy to be the bearer of bad news. This operates on many levels I’m sure, but I have a feeling it has something to do with him being hailed a saint and a war hero only to be tortured and branded a monstrosity (and he probably thinks being a vampire is doubly monstrous). He’s more comfortable being hated because he feels it’s what he deserves in a lot of ways.

Jeanne has a lot of internalized self-hatred because of what he's done, and because of how much harm was inflicted on him outside of his control (he's Catholic and he was tortured, come on this writes itself). If I'm honest, I think that's actually the greater part of why he hates Comte lmao. Comte refuses the very concept of being cruel no matter how much Jeanne lashes out. Sure he lectures him and scolds him, but he never actively limits what's important to him or controls or harms him. Comte fully realizes the tragedy of how Jeanne's life was used by a nation in dire straits, and knows he needs time and acceptance to heal. No matter how dismal or unhappy, Comte doesn't stop--he fully believes Jeanne should have time in his life where he can really live for himself for once. But therein lies the issue, Jeanne doesn't know how to live for himself.

Which brings me to how MC and Comte "heal" Jeanne. I feel like they give him the space he needs to recover, and that's what results in his gentled temperament and happiness. Remember that so much of his main story is MC endlessly chasing after Jeanne. No amounts of his hissing or running or threatening stops her. Even if his refusals are empty of real dislike, they're enough to deter most people. Not MC. She's able to see through to the depths of who he is, and doesn't just use him for her own ends? She actively seeks to teach him (to read and write) to help him settle better in this era, she actively tries to ease his distaste for rain with a well-meaning bet, and she never gives up on him. (Actions mean so much more to him than words in general too, tbh...). Love is more easily defined by work and effort than it is by attraction.

When he has his episode at the festival, sure she's rattled; but that's because she truly believed that he didn't want to be around her anymore. When she notices he really doesn’t want to be followed, she stops like any normal person would. It’s only when she reads his notebook and sees the truth for herself (that he’s given up despite having the same feelings for her) that her determination is rekindled. She doesn't approach him fearfully, doesn't treat him like he's made of glass either. She just wants him as he is--accepts and loves him as he is. Scarred, bloody, exhausted, abrasive, terrified. She doesn't define him by how easy he is to love. That is a huge issue with traumatized people lmao. Because of their maturity, people always just assume they don't need help, or they rely on them to an extent that isn't sustainable. The second they reveal need or that they struggle, people walk away or victim blame them because it’s easier than taking them seriously.

While MC's attempts may be a little more obvious (cherishing his lily field, wearing the hair pin he gave her, careful about his gruesome injury, really listens when he talks about the horrors of his life and accepts that he experienced a level of agony/terror she can never understand, tries to express her feelings no matter his evasion) I think it's also important to consider Comte's large scale effort. I don't say this to undermine MC, I say it because Jeanne's life was defined by a complete lack of security. He left his parents to make their lives easier, he lived in a war that meant life or death any second, and his country's leader branded him a traitor which lead to his endless torture and public execution. Jeanne does not know a life in which safety is the norm. Point blank. He does not understanding going outside and not expecting the worst anymore.

Comte not only understands that level of despair, but treats it with dignity and respect. He fully accepts being hated if it means Jeanne can use that hatred to live on and find a way to heal. And most importantly, when Jeanne begins to move forward with MC and Mozart's help, Comte never once holds it against Jeanne when the truth is revealed. He's not angry, this isn't about reprisal or reparations or revenge. It's just love.

Jeanne doesn't really have a concept of this? His entire life was mostly transactional, defined by strength and efficiency. Nobody gives a damn about your feelings. You either hurl yourself at the problem or die. Nobody is going to help you or carry you or save you. While he may have had a little more support while he was in the military from his fellow soldiers, that support system was ripped away from him during the Inquisition.

One very common sentiment regarding elongated imprisonment and torture is that survival occurs in pairs. It is an undeniable fact that people need others to survive. It is the nature of who we are. Individualism has never proven to be successful, or if it is, its dividends are astronomically minimal when compared to people working together.

What does it mean to be the most reliable, steady person in the room? Usually it just means you don't know how to ask for help when you are no longer capable of maintaining that stance. Napoleon is guilty of it. Leonardo, Comte, and Jeanne all are too. It's part of why MC and Comte's capacity to see what he needs and provide as much as they can is such a big deal. That sort of consistent support (without a constant necessity to beg for help) allows Jeanne to be able to re-integrate into his new reality and find joy. Even if his nightmares and memories never go away, they are now being actively overrun by positive experiences. That's the thing about recovery, really--it tends to be more about drowning out the negative as much as possible and coming to terms with it, than it is about forgetting or never feeling it again. It’s about softening the sharp edges of pain like sea glass.

So is MC magical and randomly got Jeanne to open up? Nah, I don't think so. I think it was a series of persistence and real acceptance of who he is that made him warm up. People really seem to underestimate how deeply affecting understanding is, but that's how damage is undone. Jeanne can't really linger on the idea of his own monstrousness, his unworthiness, a lifetime of misery, when the person in front of him actively listens and cares about him. Makes him laugh and smile and lose himself in warmth for the first time.

If I'm honest, I feel like people also just...underestimate the level of traumatic resurgence that's perpetuated and inflicted by society’s standards in general lmao. This rhetorical structure in which good and bad exist in moral extremes, this idea that people should be able to recover and never experience relapses or periods of sensitivity. The refusal to radically listen to people and their problems, and make active attempts--not matter how small--to mend/ease those hurt feelings. Granted there will always be people in the world who do not want to improve, but I feel like most people want to. It's hopelessness, silence, and stigmatization that remain the true enemies of traumatized/mentally ill people everywhere. And among that population are always war veterans...

[miminorenai]

The person is beside the wagon with plenty of flowers, as if he’s bringing along the spring. (...At last, I met him.) “I found you ‘again’, after all.” I want you to tell me your name —

CHAPTER 03

The man with crimson eyes “I found you ‘again’, after all.”

MC “Huh...?”

The man with crimson eyes “I’ve always wanted to meet you since that snowy day. I feel like I’ll find you if I keep wishing for it.”

The man with crimson eyes “Thank you for making my wish comes true.”

I lost my words in front of the smile that looks too happy, but I quickly pulling myself together.

MC “I’ve been looking for you too.”

MC “The other day, I received an armful of flowers, but I couldn’t thank you properly...”

(Uhh...was there anything I could give him as thanks?)

When I look inside the shopping bag, I realize I was buying wine.

(No, this is the wine that Comte and Leonardo-san are looking forward to...!)

After some hesitation, I took out the strawberries I had bought for my snack —

MC “Um, I’m sorry. I don't think this is enough to thank you, but please accept it if you like.”

The man with crimson eyes “...”

MC “Er...”

The man with crimson eyes “...”

(...What should I do, was it annoying?)

MC “Either way, I didn’t have much now —“

The man with crimson eyes “Can I really take it? Thank you, I love strawberries very much.”

His appearance with a carefree smile while receiving strawberries slowly warms my heart, and I can’t help but to smile too.

MC “Hehe...”

The man with crimson eyes “What’s wrong, is there anything amusing...?”

MC “Sorry, I’m laughing since I’m so happy. I’m glad you like it.”

(...I could never forget the lonely figure I saw on that snowy day. Oh, I see.)

(I wanted to meet this person’s smiling face...)

As I’m feeling extremely peaceful, the person’s hand gently takes my hand.

The man with crimson eyes “Then can I *take you away from now on?”

(*連れ去って - kidnap

MC “Eh......? Take-take me away!?”

The man with crimson eyes “Yeah, it's a waste to eat such delicious food alone, so let's eat it together.”

The man with crimson eyes “There is a place with beautiful scenery.”

(...Is that so? Since he said things like taking me away, so I interpret it strangely.)

MC “Yes, of course! Just, before that —“

The man with crimson eyes “Hmm...?”

When I turn my eyes towards the people in the city lining up to buy flowers, the person smiles softly.

The man with crimson eyes “Ahaha, I’m sorry everyone. I’m just absorbed in my own matter.” 

The man with crimson eyes “Hey, can you wait for me a little while?”

Smiling as if he’s getting relieved, the person reaches out to the colorful flowers.

His soft and thin silver hair’s shining sparklingly through the sunlight and swaying in the winter breeze.

(Ah, right...!)

MC “I just have one thing I want to ask of you.”

The man with crimson eyes “Yes...?”

MC “What’s your name...?”

He smiles as if he’s *reacting to my question with his whole body.

(*受け止める - accept, take

Vlad “Vlad.”

Vlad “...Hey, what’s your name then?”

After all the flowers are passed into the people’s hands, Vlad-san takes me to the shore of Seine.

Vlad “···— That’s what happened.”

MC “Oh, really...?”

Vlad “Yeah, that’s true. Ahaha, isn’t that weird?”

While eating strawberries side by side, Vlad-san tells me about himself.

He’s been picking flowers from his own garden and selling them on a whim.

He lives in an old castle a little apart from here, with 3 person live together, named Faust and Charles.

And many other things.

(...It feels strange. Or, how should I put it, he’s talking without hiding anything, but I can’t grasp it somewhere although it’s being transmitted.) 

(Or rather, he’s being mysterious.)

But, I don’t want to step more than necessary, because there’re always parts that people don’t want to touch.

Besides, there were many things I couldn’t say either.

(There’s no way I can say that I came to this world beyond time and space.)

Vlad “Hey, let me hear your story this time.”

MC “Huh...? Things about me?”

Vlad “Yeah, anything is fine. If it’s about you, I want to know everything.”

Vlad “If I’m not mistaken...you just came to this land a month ago, right?”

MC “Yes, for a trip a month ago.”

Vlad “A trip, huh? That’s nice. It's very important to actually see the scenery you've never seen before.”

Vlad “Then, does that mean you’re living in a hotel now?”

(Well...the fact that everyone in the mansion is resurrected great men shouldn’t be known, right?)

— Much less in saying that they’re vampires.

I look back into Vlad-san’s eyes as I choose my words with care.

MC “No. I received an invitation from a certain nobleman, and now I live and work in his mansion.”

Vlad “Live-in employee, huh. You’re very remarkable to work in an unfamiliar place.”

I shake my head and Vlad-san looks into my face.

Vlad “Hey...how long can you stay in this place?”

(That’s...)

Comte “Everyone, get down!” Napoleon “Mimi, come over here...!”

MC “Well, in fact, I couldn’t go back to where I was because of a slight mistake...”

Vlad “...”

MC “Oh! But, it’s okay. Rather, I think it’s great that my trip has been extended.”

MC “And everyone in the mansion cares a lot ···—“

Then, suddenly the words are cut short.

It may be because the city is so beautiful at dusk, or perhaps it’s because Vlad-san’s asking so that I could accept everything,

The emotion that had been sunk deep in my heart ever since the door’s closed is overflowing into my voice.

MC “...I’m all right but sometimes, things like anxiety suddenly fills my heart.”

MC “I know it’s okay if I really talk to everyone and laugh away, but I can’t do that.”

Vlad “Why’s that?”

In the evening, I think of kind and strong people who reside in the mansion.

MC “Surprisingly even for myself, I cherish everyone in the mansion...I like them so much.”

MC “That’s why it’s hard to confide and speak frankly when my heart feels gloomy.”

Vlad “...?”

MC “I don’t want them to carry along my sadness by showing my sad appearance.”

MC “Since I want the people I love to laugh as much as possible even for a second.”

Vlad “...”

MC “Ah, I’m sorry. I just talked about myself —“

When I look back at him feeling apologetic, Vlad-san’s eyes are gently narrowed...

Vlad “I’ve been having a hard time lately.”

MC “Huh...?”

As I was surprised by the words spilled without context, Vlad-san keep on talking without any care.

Vlad “Right now, I'm selling flowers by myself, but I don't have enough manpower. That's why I have a request for Mimi.”

Vlad “Can you help me with my work?”

MC “I want to help you but...I also have to work in the mansion.”

Vlad “I don’t mind with only an hour every day, though...”

(...He said it would be just around one hour, so I guess it’s quite hard. Alright, then!)

MC “Okay, let me help you on my way home from shopping then.”

Vlad “Thank you, then I'll be waiting at the place where I met you today.”

MC “Yes...!”

From that day on, as promised, I started going to see Mr. Vlad on my way home from shopping, but —

MC “Hello Vlad-san. Say, if there’s anything you need my help with —”

Vlad “Hey Mimi. Look over here. A kitten was just born in a customer’s house. See?”

MC “Wow, so cute...! Can I hug it?”

Vlad “Of course. Here you go.”

(...Yesterday I just played with Vlad-san and the kitten.)

(Today I’ll do my best to help him properly!)

Vlad “Charles told me that new strawberry sweets will be available from today at the café here.”

Vlad “I'm glad you came to see me. Let's order all the strawberry menus and *splitting evenly between both of us.”

(*はんぶんこ - halfsies

MC “Ev-everything...!?”

After that, Vlad-san just took me around on a whim without asking for my help.

(I have to work properly today. Eh?)

Vlad “...”

MC “What are you doing, Vlad-san?”

[shadowed-dancer]

Thoughts on the Cats Movie soundtrack

Still haven’t seen the film, but I thought I’d give my opinion based solely on the music of this MUSICAL film, ignoring the CGI and any story beats they may have added (also for context, I’ve seen the staged musical and I actually enjoyed it)

Fun fact, all thoughts were written as I was hearing the songs, so it’s entirely my first, gut based reactions. You are reading it exactly as it popped into my head upon hearing bits of the songs

This ended up being way longer than I thought so it goes under a cut. Enjoy

Overture

I wasn’t going to review the overture but there’s a weird synthesizer and I needed to point it out

Jellicle Songs for Jellicle Cats

It doesn’t sound right. The pacing at the beginning is off. Once the chorus kicks in it gets better (but it comes later?)

It got weirdly... techno? Idk if that’s the right word

There are a lot of solos especially during the “practical cats, dramatical cats” list. At first I didn’t like it cause I really love when groups of people sing together, but it grew on me

Although Misto (I think) quickly adding in “and magical cats” at the end of the list is really cute. I love my boy

Old Gumbi Cat

The man singing is great (Munkustrap? Idk if they changed it) but I miss Jenny’s preppy and peppy attitude from the musical

Also I miss the 3 girls who used to sing the “Buuuut when the day’s hustle and bustle is done”

There’s a part that I think is the mice singing? Not a fan. I’m scared

I don’t hear any tap shoes, hopefully she does get her tap solo in the movie but from what I’ve heard in reviews, I don’t think she does

I actually like the very end bit. I never liked the musical version where they sing “for she’s a jolly good fellow”. This one flows a bit better and rhymes when she says “thank you my dears”

Rum Tum Tugger 

Dang, this is funky! I actually don’t hate it

Is... is Grizabella the Glamour Cat cut? Or just not on the album? That was actually one of my favourite songs I’m sad it’s gone. I wanted to hear Demeter’s voice

Bustopher Jones 

It isn’t as bad as I’d feared. I was nervous about James Corden, but it’s pretty ok

It’s not my favourite song to begin with so it’s pretty meh. This version is good for what it is

Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer

This is so different and I miss the energy, but I actually don’t hate it. It gives off a very sneaky type of energy and I kind of like it

It’s hard to grasp a tune though

Also, I like Rumpleteazer’s voice. It’s cute

Old Deuteronomy

It’s pretty similar to the original tbh

Someone in the comments on the video said it’s still Munkustrap singing, in which case he’s doing a very good job!

I miss his duet with Tugger though

Also Old Deuteronomy no longer buried 99 wives, but instead lived 99 lives? Ok

Oh jeez I was not expecting her voice to sound like that

Beautiful Ghosts

It’s ... actually kind of nice?

I was worried, but so far I’m not hating a lot of these added “Oscar bait” songs (Never more alone from Les Mis, No one would listen from Phantom, Evermore from Beauty and the Beast)

“No beauty in my memory” is that a parallel to Grizabella’s line “I can smile at the old days, I was beautiful then”

She mentions “memories” a lot. Is she being set as a reflection of Grizabella? (wanting to be wanted and wanting to fit in)

“At least you have something” who is the “you?” Misto? The Jellicle tribe? A plural “you” referring to the world?

I feel like if she is singing this to Misto it will break up the pacing of the film, idk how to explain it. Like this song is nice but it’s slow, maybe that’s ok though cuz it comes right after Old Deuteronomy (the song)

Her voice is very pretty and I almost started tearing up. I was hesitant of them using Victoria as an audience surrogate (someone to have the cats introduce themselves to) but I like it. They seem to have made her an actual character

Oh shoot, epiphany! Is this song meant to replace the first “Memories” that goes before intermission? Because that’s not on the soundtrack. If that’s the case that’s actually smart

Gus

I miss Jellylorum singing about him. That being said, even though he doesn’t really sing, I feel it fits him fine

His Gandalf is showing. For some reason the beginning reminded me of Lord of the Rings where he is singing “the road goes ever on and on”

It’s odd not having Jellylorum sing about him. It’s less sympathetic when he sings about himself

Um, does Gus not perform a play about the Pekes and the Pollicles? I’m... actually ok with that thank you for cutting the run time down

For those curious, the Pekes and the Pollicles was moved in the Broadway revival and US tour to be after Gus’ song. It serves as him reliving his glory days by performing one of his old plays

Skimbleshanks

It’s kept the same fun, lighthearted energy that I loved so much

There are some weird pauses but I’ll let it slide

That weird electric/techno sound is in the background again

They cut it down... a lot. I don’t blame them though, it was a very long song. And the parts they kept are executed amazingly

Was... was that tap dancing? So maybe Jenny really isn’t a tap dancer any more. Dang it

Macavity

It’s no longer a duet... they’re really cutting all the fun duets, eh?

Where is Demeter? Is she ok?

Also Taylor Swift is British

Overall the performance is pretty good

“He’s outwardly respectible. I know he cheats at cards” ok that line used to make sense as a duet cuz it was like Demeter would say one thing and then Bombalurina would come and add to it/contradict it. Now it’s weird to be sung by the same person (at least I THINK that’s Taylor singing both parts)

Wait... is that Macavity saying “the Napoleon of crime”? Why is he present? I know something changed in the timing but does he steal Old Deuteronomy AFTER this song? Cuz that just seems weird. Like “Ok now that you know who I am, let’s go”

The alternative is that he returned after stealing her to taunt the Jellicles which might work? It may not have even been him who said the line though lmao

Mr. Mistofelees

Oh man they did my boy dirty

Why is he so breathy? Is he nervous? You’re supposed to be the greatest magician ever! What did they do to his character?

Also why is he singing about himself? Someone help him

The breaks after the chorus are starting to annoy me. It’s disrupting my jam

“Not long ago this phenomenal cat...” ok I know that technically that is grammatically correct if he gestures to himself, but because the whole song is now first person it just sounds weird

Wow, EVERY duet I cared about it gone. Like, I don’t even ship Tugofelees but I could respect it! And I obviously acknowledge they have SOME sort of relationship in the musical (platonic, one sided admiration, or otherwise) so why cut it? Also I loved Tugger singing this song. I’m just mad.

You know what? Scratch that, it didn’t even need to be Tugger, just SOMEONE sing with him holy corn

Oh ok wow so can Old Deuteronomy just not sing? I thought she was supposed to play Grizabella in the London production, why is her voice so scratchy?

This song in the musical was my favourite because of it’s fun energy and flowing beat. Well the beat doesn’t flow and the energy is gone so good news Skimble you’re my favourite song for this recording so far. Congrats

Ok but Misto singing “as meeeee” as the rest of the cast sings the chorus is actually kind of adorable

Woah woah woah wait someone else is introducing him at the end? Why couldn’t you have helped throughout the entire song?????

The meows... I can’t

Memory

Her words sound slurred? Is that just me? I know the song so I know what she’s supposed to be saying, but if I hadn’t known I wouldn’t understand a lot of it

Her voice is pretty solid aside from that though

I know people were mad Victoria sings with her, but with Beautiful Ghosts as her song, I think it’s thematically appropriate

Ok the climax is well done

Oh wait what? The energy just disappeared. Bring it back!

Off topic but if you want to hear a really good Grizabella, check out Keri Rene Fuller. I got to see her live and I legit cried her climax was amazing she belted it so loud it literally shook me, like I could feel the vibrations in my chest

The Ad-dressing of Cats

Oh no I have to listen to her sing a whole song

It sounds like she’s sing-talking. It worked for Gus, not so much here

Apparently she looks directly into the camera during this scene

Ok she did it before but I noticed it on this lyric. “To treat you as a trusted friend”. Old Deuteronomy used to go up on “trusted friend” but she goes down. It brings the whole energy down

She did it again on “Straudsberg pie”

I know she’s saying “aim” but it sounded like she said “end” which made the last lyric (name) sound like it didn’t rhyme. Oh boy.

To conclude, lots of changes. Not all good, but not all bad either. Some questionable casting and directions, but I’m excited to see it. Hopefully some of my questions are cleared up.

I may make a full review of the film once I've seen it.

[thehonestcollection]

To Submerge an Eagle

Imagine these two extraordinary incidents: 

1) It is evening on the British territory of St Helena, sheets of rain are forcibly swept on to the island by a West African gale. The temperature is 5 °C, with the dark volcanic rock hugging the dark sky. The island itself looks as if it was designed by its British colonists, to form a volcanic Alcatraz that was predicated on creating a natural fortress for their enemies. A few miles from its centre, there is a large jagged cliff, with volcanic teeth positioned upward, towards the night sky. There is a small line dangling down into the abyss of the ocean. A large man is hoisting a whale line attached to a mechanical seat down towards this abyss, and inside this mechanical chair is The Eagle…Napoleon Bonaparte.

 2) It is November 1820, Charles William Greaves, is a local boat builder and waterman, usually spending his time in Chelsea. Mr Greaves is luckily enough to be a boat man for one of the best Romantic painters in British history, J. M. W. Turner. Turner has recently left to visit the great Alps. Mr Greaves, walks along the Thames while observing its polluted beauty, hears an unexplainable loud growl. He leans over a small barrier and witnesses the unimaginable. A large oblong vessel, half of which is underwater, is quickly approaching London Bridge. Mr Graves runs along to follow its whereabouts. Screams are heard within the small spaces of quiet, that interrupt the growling. The vessel slowly squeezes under London Bridge, while on the deck, a large man – presumably the captain – grabs his pistol and threatens to shoot a few naval officers ordering him to turn the vessel off. The naval officers make their move, they detain the large man, and a few other sailors, and shut the engines down, the growling stops, and Mr Greaves, perplexed by this occurrence, carries on with his duties.

 I think we would all agree that both these incidents are extraordinary, however only one happens to be true. The latter. In order to follow up exactly how these two incidents relate, we must place ourselves within the context that subsumes these ideas. In 1815, Napoleon Bonaparte after conquering much of Europe and betraying the French Revolution, installing himself as Emperor, was finally defeated… well re-defeated. Napoleon was exiled to the island of Elba, where he was still proclaimed an Emperor, escaped and returned to France, where he was once again defeated by Europe’s monarchies, and thus imprisoned on the British territory St. Helena, some 4,000 miles away from Europe. The peace and stability of post-Napoleonic Europe was only ever guaranteed with Napoleon secured on the island. 

From 1815-1821, there were several rumours throughout Europe of possible plots by Napoleonic sympathisers to rescue their Emperor, and return him to some seat of power. European monarchies and elites, usually downplayed these rumours. In fact, several plots were devised, all were foiled, but there were indeed many potential rescue efforts. The works of Mike Dash (Smithsonian Institute) and Emilio Ocampo (CSIS) have presented the reality of these plots, and the actions of European powers to stop such attempts. By far the most interesting, but also the most ludicrous sounding, is the notion of securing Napoleon from St. Helena, using a submarine… in 1820. To put this in a border context: the first submarine that did not rely on human power for propulsion, was the Plonguer, developed by the French Navy in 1863, which used compressed air. This article will attempt to examine to what extent the plot existed, and subsequently evaluate whether such an attempt would have been successful.

 In 1827, Walter Scott – a Scottish historical novelist – published a nine-volume biography, titled the Life of Napoleon. The first eight pieces of the biography detailed what many historians have already dissected, Napoleons’ beginnings, becoming an artillery colonel, his relationship with Josephine, becoming the Emperor etc. Interestingly, in the ninth volume, Scott details a plan by a Thomas Johnson (according to Mike Dash the correct spelling is indeed Johnson, not Johnstone – as is seen on Wikipedia – if you’re a Johnson aficionado and like the ‘t’ and the ‘e’, take up your quarrel with Mr Dash) an Irish sailor and smuggler, to build and command a submarine to rescue The Eagle. But who was Thomas Johnson?

 According to Ocampo’s sources, Johnson was better known as ‘Johnstone the Smuggler [the description continues…] No prison has yet been found strong enough to hold him’. Johnson began smuggling at the age of 15, acted as a privateer against the French during the Napoleonic Wars, he was arrested three times, in France, Holland and London (Fleet debtors’ prison). Impressively, he escaped from all three prisons. The Naval Chronicle published a report in 1833, which specifically labelled Johnson as a chief conspirator in aiding a rescue mission, which he would have been payed approximately £40,000. According to Johnson, French agents, along with Bonapartists, approached him and offered to pay him a lump sum of £40,000, if his vessel could secure The Eagle and preferably bring him to the United States or Brazil. This is not as far-fetched as it may sound. The United States, had ended hostilities with the British Empire, a sworn enemy of The Eagle, thus is would make sense for the U.S. to act as a haven. Also, Brazil and Argentina had ramped up their offensives against the Spanish and Portuguese Empires post-1815. Napoleon had also attempted to aid South American independence efforts during the Peninsula War with Spain from 1808-1814. So, presumably Napoleon, along with his small circle of officers, would have been welcomed in South America. 

How credible is Scott’s analysis, along with Johnson’s declaration of manifesting this submarine plot? The only way to truly assess Johnson’s claims is through his own words, and then following up the practicality of this so-called plot with the evidence we have obtained. The only explanation given by Johnson, is contained in a memoir entitled Scenes and Stories of a Clergyman in Debt, published in 1835. In a letter, from December 1834, Johnson writes ‘I have… added many other materials… as well as a description of the power of the submarine ships, by means of which the Emperor Napoleon was to have been rescued from St Helena’. Johnson openly admits to having a hand in this plot, and using a submarine to rescue The Eagle. Let us go on: Johnson states ‘the Submarine Ship called the Eagle, which was intended to take away the Grand Emperor, Napoleon, in July, 1821, had not death hurried him out of this world’. This is simply remarkable. Johnson even gives an exact date of which the plot would have been carried out, if it was not for Napoleon’s untimely death. Johnson details his plan: ‘I have designed two submarine ships…of rescuing the immortal emperor Napoleon- the greatest man of this age – from the fangs of his jailor, Sir Hudson Lowe (the British commander of St Helena)’. The first submarine was named the ‘Eagle’ and the smaller vessel named the ‘Etna’.

 Johnson declared he would need thirty sailors and four engineers to sail both submarines to the island. They would also contain, twenty torpedoes to deal with the Royal Navy patrols. Johnson’s plan was to anchor the vessels at nightfall, close to the island, then smuggle himself onto shore, where he would sneak into Longwood House (Napoleon’s residence) disguise himself, along with Napoleon and a few other aids. After sneaking down to the shore, Johnson would use a “mechanical seat” to place Napoleon in and lower him down into the Etna, where they would stay submerged, until nightfall, where they would then embark the Eagle and head ‘for the United States’. If the vessels were spotted by the Royal Navy during their escape, Johnson would position Etna with a torpedo attached alongside, and explode the submarine near a Royal Navy squadron. Thus, giving the Eagle a clear departure route towards the United States. Once in the United States, Johnson would plan to have the French Navy secure and return The Emperor to his homeland.

 Scott includes another plan devised by Johnson, which Johnson had omitted – whereby Napoleon would be smuggled off the island on a Royal Navy vessel by forcing British sailors off their boat, and then commandeering the ship into open waters. This plan is significantly less adventurous and less likely to succeed; however, it does demonstrate the level of thought put into the plots surrounding Johnson and Napoleon.

 Immediately, one would ask, how is that an Irish smuggler knew how to construct, and sail a submarine? This is perhaps, where Johnson’s plans seem more like sailor’s tales, to gain some attention. The sources suggest something very different, and correlate with Johnson’s claims. Robert Fulton, was an American engineer, who was living in France during the French First Republic (1793-1797). In 1800, Fulton developed the first practical submarine named Nautilus. Fulton had to persuade Napoleon to allow him to develop such a machine, justified as a possible solution to disrupting British trade in the Chanel. The submarine was tested on the Seine, and was apparently successful. In 1806, Fulton designed a much more advanced, reliable vessel. Dash notes that the French ignoring this success, and Fulton got a £100,000 grant from the British to develop new systems of submarine warfare. According to a contemporary account: In 1804, Johnson met with Fulton while he was working on his submarine designs, and either aided, or stole the plans for the submarine. Fulton eventually returned to America, but much more interestingly is, by the time of the War of 1812, the British government commissioned Johnson to build a torpedo system and a submarine. We know that more than £11,000 were given to him to build the submarine. So, Johnson was developing two submarines, just as he had said, but is there any evidence, other than his own testimony of course, to use them to rescue The Emperor?

 This is where this story gets even more interesting: During Mike Dash’s research into Johnson at the British National Archives, he found a statement from the History Gallery, which demonstrated that Bonapartists were interested in submarine designs in 1812, not 1820. This means that while Johnson was working for the British government in developing a submarine, he was approached by the French, which would have given him enough time to build these vessels. 

Is there evidence of the submarines existing? 

1) Johnson invited the Royal Navy to witness the machines and demanded pay for his work. In early 1820, Sir George Cockburn reported on the submarines, and assessed how much Johnson should be paid for his work. Cockburn was no naïve sailor, in fact he commanded the Royal Navy during their sacking of Washington, and the burning of the White House in 1814. Cockburn valued Johnson’s work at £4,735. The submarines did in fact exist.

 2) In 1820 the Naval Chronicle published a report of Johnson testing a submarine on the River Thames, which ultimately ended in an explosion. It’s unclear what happened to the submarine after this test, but we do know it was in fact tested.

 3) The account of Walter Greaves (see above), the submarine was subsequently burned by naval officers at Blackwall – who probably thought it was used to smuggle goods.

 4) According to Johnson’s biographer: in 1819, a year before the Royal Navy expected Johnson’s work, he had been paid £15,000 to construct the machines. It should be noted that this is a different sum of money, not given by the British government. The shipyard workers were told it would be used for smuggling. There are two correlations here, the first, that the vessel was said to be used for smuggling, which is probably why it was burned. The second, it was burned at the same place it was constructed, which points out that this is in fact the same submarine.

 5) In 1818, Napoleon’s former doctor Barry O’Meara at St. Helena, was expelled by Sir Hudson Lowe, who Johnson said he was communicated with about rescuing The Emperor. Colonel Francis Maceroni wrote in his memoirs in 1838, that O’Meara had been involved in a plot that used a steam powered submarine, which had been misinterpreted as a steamboat by the British government – with their suspicions against another sailor, Cochrane. 

Would the plot have succeeded? 

So, we conclusively know that there were indeed submarines built by Johnson. We do not know, other than his testimony, that he was planning to use them to rescue Napoleon, but most the sources surrounding this notion infers that there was such a plan in place.

 In order to fully test whether this plot would have succeeded, we must analyse the defences of the St. Helena, by using the threat of another plot a few years before. True Blooded Yankee was a crew of Americans privateers who flew under the flag of the revolutionary government of Buenos Aires, and were feared during the conflict of 1812. This vessel was rumoured to be in talks within crypto-Bonapartists in developing a plan to rescue Napoleon. In 1817, Lord Bathurst wrote to Sir Hudson Lowe – the effective commander of St. Helena – warning him of threat, stating ‘the True Blooded Yankee are at Bahia (Brazil)… wishes to effect the release of Bonaparte… the Italian tavern keeper had lately endeavoured to get a passage to St. Helena under the pretext to visit his wife… their design is to assist Napoleon’. 

In 1820, Bathurst writes another letter to Lowe, this one emphasising how real the threat of Napoleon’s escape really was: ‘his followers make me suspect that he is beginning to entertain serious thoughts of escaping from St. Helena… the revolutionary spirit which more or less prevails over all Italy, and the doubtful state of France itself… the times are most favourable for the attempt’. In 1819, the European powers realised that the paranoia surrounding Napoleon’s proposed escape was not merely paranoia, but now a credible threat. In Spain support grew for Napoleon, Italians also favoured Napoleon over their Austrian rulers. One should note: Napoleon had caused absolute chaos amongst European powers during the ‘Hundred Days’ in 1815.

 Lowe took the threat of escape extremely seriously, perhaps too seriously. In fact, he developed paranoia due to the amount of credible plots surrounding his island. In 1817, the Foreign Office warned Lowe that Michel Brayer a well-known Bonapartist general had landed in Buenos Aires along with other Napoleonic veterans. According to a Royal Navy officer, the group had plans of a submarine that was being constructed in England – possibly Johnson’s. Lowe was alarmed by these reports. There was a permanent garrison stationed on St. Helena, which included: 500 officers, 2,300 soldiers with 500 canons. Lowe found 23 points of possible invasion routes from either South American troops – who may have wanted to rescue Bonaparte, or by Bonapartists attempting to rescue their Emperor. 

 An English sailor who visited the island in 1816 noted that Lowe’s defences had made it nearly impossible for a rescue of any sort. Lowe put sentries across the island. There was also a highly effective telegraph system which acted as an early warning system, so that Lowe would know what was happening in each sector of the island, and thus where and when to deploy his troops. Moreover, the surrounding waters of the island were constantly patrolled by three Royal Navy frigates, and two men-of-war (if we take Sir John Hopkins definition, these ships could be up to 60 metres long and could have up to 124 guns: four at the bow, eight at the stern, and 56 in each broadside – this may vary depending on the type of warship, the point is: they were very powerful vessels). Lowe also doubled up on Napoleon’s restrictions, preventing him from seeing many aids, keeping him in certain rooms, and would even wake up in the middle of the night to check that Napoleon had not disappeared. On a few occasions, Lowe even threatened to have Napoleon shot if he exited a designated room, as he would be accused of attempting to escape. 

Considering all these defences: Johnson would have to pull off the impossible to get the Emperor. The submarine vessels would have to submerge themselves so they would not get spotted by the patrols of the Royal Navy squadrons. He would then have to sneak on shore, through the patrols on the island, avoid Lowe’s paranoid frequent checks, find a way to get into Longwood House and then communicate with Napoleon. There is one fundamental limitation: whether Napoleon wanted to leave at all. According to Ocampo, Napoleon would have never of risked death or capture once again, he also would not disguise himself, the only manner he would leave St. Helena was “with his hat on his head and his sword at his side.” This would mean an invasion or change in policy, so Johnson would have to thoroughly convince Napoleon to leave his residence. This is implausible, but for the sake of the argument, say that he did. At the coast, the mechanical chair would have to work, the submarines would have to get far enough that the Royal Navy would not intercept them. They then would have to be accepted by either one of the new revolutionary governments of South America, or the United States – this seems more plausible. 

Ultimately, then, it is very unlikely that Johnson’s plan would have worked, and even further unlikely that Napoleon would have agreed to these conditions. Although, we can conclusively say that Johnson did in fact develop two submarines, with the intention of rescuing Napoleon in 1821. Johnson seemed to carefully manoeuvre himself between the French and British governments while proving himself as an ingenious Captain, who intended to attempt the impossible. All in all, it seems that The Eagle had come to love his cage.                                

Bibliography https://www.cairn.info/revue-napoleonica-la-revue-2011-2-page-11.htm#re10no10 http://www.napoleonicsociety.com/english/pdf/j2011ocampo.pdf https://www.smithsonianmag.com/history/the-secret-plot-to-rescue-napoleon-by-submarine- 1194764/ https://archive.org/stream/scenesstoriesbyc02bayl#page/252/mode/2up/search/napoleon

[operaforthelayman]

Tosca

Tos-ska

Run Time: About two hours and fifteen minutes  (2 intermissions) Difficulty: ★★☆☆☆ Who did it: Puccini First performed: Teatro Costanzi in Rome on 14 January 1900 Here’s a bit of background: Tosca is based on Victorien Sardou’s play, La Tosca. Tosca is actually a bit of a political piece. It takes place in the middle of a revolution (More on that here.)

Themes:

Love, Murder, Politics,

Fun Tidbits:

Tosca is set in one day, June 17th 1800.

It took Puccini four years to finish it.

Our Major players: ♪ Floria Tosca: A famous opera singer! As well as our main character ♪ Mario Cavaradossi: Tosca’s honey bunny, a politics enthusiast and a talented painter ♪ Scarpia: Rome’s corrupt chief of police ♪ Spoletta: Scarpia’s henchman ♪ Cesare Angelotti: A political activist that is has escaped from prison.

Okay! Before we start, let’s lay out a few notes. It’s not REALLY needed, but some context will help. Tosca takes place in ONE DAY. We’re thrown in the middle of this one day midst the second coalition war; basically a revolutionary war, which in our context is Napoleon vs. The Austrian Monarch.  France was occupying Italy at this time, and the day Tosca is set is the day the two sides have a battle for Rome. Where Tosca is set! Got it?

  Act 1

We start our opera with the ominous chords, the curtain rises and we’re in the cathedral Sant'Andrea della Valle. Angelotti runs into the cathedral frantic as fuck. He just escaped from prison and is looking for a place to hide out. He flees into the chapel just as the priest comes in.

 The priest bitches and moans about how messy Cavaradossi’s brushes are and checks to see if he has eaten lunch. Eventually, Cavaradossi shows up and shoots the shit with the priest for a while, revealing his painting for the chapel. He’s been painting a mural of Mary Magdalene. The priest leaves and Cavaradossi continues to paint.

  Thinking the coast is clear; Angelotti tries to unlock a gate in the chapel, catching Cavaradossi’s attention. They’re both startled but Angelotti recognizes Cavaradossi. Cavaradossi recognizes him as a fellow revolutionary. They embrace and Angelotti ask for help.

 Just then Tosca calls from outside the chapel for Cavaradossi. He quickly tells Angelotti to hide, not wanting to involve Tosca and her jealous personality. He gives Angelotti the basket of lunch the priest left for him and shoves him into the chapel.

From outside the chapel, Tosca increasingly gets more pissed until Cavaradossi opens the door. She suspects him of cheating, and claims she heard whispering. Cavaradossi talks her down with some sweet words and a kiss. Tosca reminds him of their plans for the night, she first has a gig and then they will go to his house. She sings a little ditty about her dreams of them having a house together, away from everyone.

  Cavaradossi amuses her for a bit and then tells her he must get back to work. Just when Tosca is leaving, she notices the painting of Mary Magdalene. She begins to get jealous of Mary’s beauty and then recognizes her as a woman in town. Angelotti’s sister! She begins to accuse Cavaradossi of cheating on her. She begins to get crazy until Cavaradossi swears he saw her at church to pray yesterday and it was by chance. After a bit of coaxing, he finally calms her down and ushers her out the door.

 With Tosca gone, Angelotti comes out of hiding, and begins to explain his escape plan. Just when he’s about to leave, cannons blow in the distance. Scarpia has been made aware of Angelotti’s escape!

  The two run out of the chapel in a hurry.

  Immediately after, the priest returns with the entire boy choir. They too will be singing at the same gig Tosca is. Their joy is cut short when Scarpia enters the chapel. He is looking for Angelotti, suspecting he has hidden in the chapel. Finding the chapel unlocked and spying Cavaradossi’s picture, Scarpia pieces Cavaradossi and Angelotti must be in cahoots.

  Scarpia finds the basket in the chapel and a fan baring the crest of Angelotti’s family,  it’s the final piece of evidence he needs. Hearing Tosca from outside the chapel, he hides behind a column.

  Tosca comes scurrying back looking for Cavaradossi and is surprised when she find Scarpia instead. He shows her the fan with Angelotti’s crest and she begins to weep. With the fan and the painting, she has become convinced that Cavaradossi is indeed cheating on her.

  She runs out of the chapel heartbroken and in search of Cavaradossi.  Scarpia sets men to follow her in hopes of discovering the two escaped men. And then he also sings a tiny ditty about stealing Tosca from Cavaradossi.

    Act Two.

  Scarpia sit at his dinner table gloating about the day. Thanks to Tosca, he was able to find Cavaradossi but Angelotti is still missing. He gloats about finally having something to hold over Tosca’s head. She’ll come to save Cavaradossi and she’ll have to succumb to his demands (ahem ahem) to free her boo. Scarpia’s lackey drags in Cavaradossi and question him about Angelotti; he’s a true homebody and doesn’t say shit. Tosca enters the room and sees her boo being tortured. She runs over to him in horror and Cavaradossi whispers, “Babe—don’t snitch.”

  She agrees, and they take Cavaradossi away for some more good ole fashioned torture, leaving Scarpia alone with Tosca. He’s like, “Ok babe. We have some alone time. Let’s chit chat, was your boo alone at his apartment?” Tosca insist he was.  Scarpia’s like “Yooooo. You sure??”  Tosca insist again. And Scarpia’s like “Aahaa. Alright homegirl.” And ushers his servants to crank up the toture on Cavaradossi. His screams from the other room cause Tosca to admit that Angelotti acutally was with Cavaradossi. He is hiding a well in Cavaradossi’s backyard. Scarpia’s soldiers run off to get him and Cavaradossi is released.

  He’s pissed off at Tosca and rejects her embrace. Just then, someone burst into the room and announces that Napoleon’s army has defeated Scarpia’s army. Cavaradossi having no sense of self control jumps up and starts screaming “VICTORY!!!” Tosca’s like “YoooOooOoO. CHILL bro.”

  Scarpia is having none of that and sends him away for more torture and eventual death by hanging.

  Tosca is horrified, of course and ask Scarpia if there is any way to save him. She ask, “What price?” He replies, “Your hot ass bod.”  She’s OD horrified and runs around the room trying to escape him. When all a sudden, one of Scarpia’s homies comes in and announces Angelotti has killed himself rather than get caught. Now Scarpia is pissed and orders the execution of Cavaradossi. Tosca decides to give in to Scarpia’s demands and belts out Vissi d’arte. A prayer to God in sorts, about how she has dedicated her entire life to the arts and love just to be rewarded with misfortune and pure assery.

  Now that Tosca has given in Scarpia agrees to give Cavaradossi a mock execution and to allow Tosca and her man to leave forever.

  Scarpia agrees and turns to write up the order for Tosca’s demands. While his back is turned she spies a knife on the table and swiftly grabs it, hiding it behind her back.

  When Scarpia is finished with the note, he seals it and holds out his arms for a hug and shouts out “TOSCA YOU ARE MINE AT LAST.” Which she replies “NOT TODAY BITCH.” And she whips out her knife and STABS HIM.

  Scarpia’s like “Oh shit!” while Tosca continues to stab him and pretty much mocks the shit out of him. She stabs him to death and then decides to pray for him….?

  She sets a bunch of candles around him and lays a crucifix on his chest because hey. I just murdered this dude but like also I don’t wanna go to hell. She takes the Scarpia’s note and walks out.

  Act Three

  It’s now dawn and Cavaradossi awaits his doom, he writes a love letter to Tosca and bribes a guard to give his last words to her. The guard hesitates for a second and then is like, “Well ok.” Cavaradossi begins to write but then burst into a love song about how wonderful and how beautiful Tosca and their life together was. Spoletta then appears with Tosca behind him. Tosca sees Cavaradossi weeping and runs to him quickly.  They embrace and Tosca’s like “Hey babe, don’t weep peep this note Scarpia gave me.” Cavaradossi reads the Scarpia’s get out of jail pass and is all “wtf how did this happen? When did this happen? Howww??” And Tosca is pretty much like, “Well it doesn’t matter, but I fucking murdered that dick.”  It almost feels like she’s bragging about it because one line in the libretto legit translates to “MY HANDS WERE REEKING WITH HIS BLOOD.” I like to imagine a smug af Tosca. Cavaradossi is like “o shit what. Girl I can’t believe. Your hands are so sweet and are meant for beautiful things like gathering floors and hugging kids.”

  Tosca is like “ok cool but focus bro. Your execution is coming up. I’ve collected all our of gold. You’re gonna need to pretend to be dead after they shoot you. They’re gonna shoot you with blanks. Play along and then we’ll blow this popsicle stand.

  Both of them are like AYYYYYYYYYYE. And spend a few minutes dreaming together of their future. Cavaradossi agrees to fall naturally and play along with the mock execution.

  The guards come to take Cavaradossi to the shooting area and Tosca and he have this super cute exchange, where she makes sure that he follows the plan to a tee.

  They have one last goodbye and Cavaradossi is whisked away to the field and Tosca goes off to watch from afar. She sings to herself watching them set up, eagerly waiting for the moment of the fake fall. The blanks go off and Mario falls, causing Tosca to smile and comment on what a great actor his is.

  Spoletta and the crew cover him up with a cloak and heads down a staircase away from Cavaradossi. Tosca comes out of hiding and runs over to him and whispers to be quiet. When they are all gone, she kneels down and urges him to get up quickly. When then is no response. She lifts up the cloak and reveals HE IS DEAD.

  Turns out those blanks weren’t actually blanks. Scarpia has betrayed her

  Tosca begins to weep and down from the courtyard below people begin to shout about Scarpia being stabbed. They shout for Tosca and spy her on the upper courtyard. Spoletta and the rest of the guards run up to capture her. They surround her and Spoletta grabs her shouting, “You will pay for his life most dearly!!” She shakes him off and spits back, “WITH MY OWN!” And jumps off the ledge, hurdling herself to her own death.

  The curtains fall.

  Additional notes:

In some productions, Cavaradossi knows that the mock execution isn’t actually a mock execution and plays along with the naïve Tosca. It’s a super interesting take on the last act and makes their love duet even more miserable.

Thanks to @northernnights for history help!

[thegloober]

Prostate cancer screening campaigns are giving men the finger

Fifty years ago, in a golden moment of television comedy shows, Rowan & Martin’s Laugh-In program regularly featured “The Flying Fickle Finger of Fate” award.  Wikipedia says it “recognized actual dubious achievements by public individuals or institutions.” Do a Google search.  You’ll quickly see how popular this award became.

Yes, I’m dating myself by going back 50 years.  But mine is the generation that often becomes obsessed with being given “the finger” by doctors for digital rectal exams (DRE) looking for prostate cancer.

And it is in that context that we propose to revive The Flying Fickle Finger of Fate award.  It could be awarded to prostate cancer screening promotions that deliver a new Laugh-In about prostate exams. While they are funny, it is no joke that they fail to educate men about the evidence that raises important questions about the DRE.  The following is what you will not learn in these promotional campaigns.

An UpToDate analysis states:

We suggest not performing digital rectal examination (DRE) for prostate cancer screening either alone or in combination with prostate-specific antigen (PSA) screening. Although DRE has long been used to diagnose prostate cancer, no controlled studies have shown a reduction in the morbidity or mortality of prostate cancer when detected by DRE at any age.

There are inherent limitations to the DRE. It can detect palpable abnormalities in the (areas) of the prostate gland where the majority of cancers arise; however, other areas of the prostate where cancer occurs are not reachable by a finger examination. Furthermore, the majority of cancers detected by DRE alone are clinically or pathologically advanced, and (early) stage T1 prostate cancers are nonpalpable by definition.

…there is no high-level evidence that DRE screening improves survival outcomes.

The author of that analysis is Richard Hoffman, MD, MPH, the director of the Division of General Internal Medicine at the University of Iowa Carver College of Medicine.  He wrote to me, “Even the American Urological Association, whose members are probably most adept at performing DREs, admits that evidence is insufficient to justify using DRE as a first-line screening test.”

A systematic review and meta-analysis of the evidence published in the Annals of Family Medicine this year concluded: “Given the considerable lack of evidence supporting its efficacy, we recommend against routine performance of DRE to screen for prostate cancer in the primary care setting.”

After years of going through the perfunctory DRE from my own doctor, I finally challenged him about the evidence.  That was a couple of years ago.  He hasn’t put the glove on to give me the finger ever since.

A new low for an awareness campaign that doesn’t raise awareness

Mike Rowe, TV host of Dirty Jobs (no comment), probably had good intentions when he taped a prostate awareness public service announcement. But the end result is no public service because it is filled with misinformation. It features Rowe getting a DRE from his own doctor. In the video, Rowe states that with early detection, the five-year survival rate for prostate cancer is nearly 100 percent. We’ve written about how such five-year survival rate stats are often misleading. Nearly 100%? I recall one observer saying about such a statistic, “Hmmm. Almost as if it’s not a cancer.”  Indeed, early detection with a PSA blood test – also discussed in the video – may mean finding something that would never harm a man in his lifetime but would still end up being treated. So if you’re detecting many things that won’t cause harm, the five-year survival rate is bound to look pretty impressive. Rowe’s doctor delivers concise, catchy, but totally misleading comments about the only two reasons why you should not do a DRE.  “One, the doctor doesn’t have a finger,” he says.  “And the other is if the patient doesn’t have a rectum.”  Yuck it up, then look it up to see evidence-based reasons why you may not want to have a DRE. Rowe compounds the problem by telling men they have “no excuse” not to get a DRE.  That kind of heavy-handed blame game is often employed in screening promotions.  It’s a wrong-headed approach.  Dr. Hoffman wrote to me: “Missing from the amusing video is the part where the doctor tells the patient that getting screened for prostate cancer is not a slam dunk decision.  There are benefits—and harms—to screening and men should be helped to make informed decisions that best reflect their values and preferences.”  In other words, a fully-informed shared decision making discussion between patient and physician is needed, not a “no excuse” mandate.

In Canada, the Prostate Cancer Canada organization has gone all-out with a “Famous Fingers” comedy approach to DRE.  It features famous fingers through time that could be employed in DREs.  Take your pick:  Beethoven, Big Foot, Paul Bunyan, Sherlock Holmes, Winston Churchill, Al Capone, Genghis Khan, Napoleon, Babe Ruth, Frankenstein’s monster.  The campaign is woefully void of evidence.

Such campaigns are giving you the finger

In the end (no puns intended throughout), these campaigns do a disservice to uninformed men.  They generate laughs but present no evidence.  It’s an absurd way to conduct an awareness campaign.  It may raise awareness of the comical creativity of an advertising agency but does nothing to deliver the facts that men need to make an informed decision.

They’ve given you the finger, guys.  You can fight back by arming yourself with knowledge of the evidence. We’ve provided some highlights above. It doesn’t require a PhD to understand what the science shows and what it doesn’t.  If you still choose to pursue the DRE or the PSA blood test, more power to you.  At least you won’t be swayed by a rah-rah, single-minded promotional campaign on behalf of special interests who stand to gain by your business and by further fundraising.

Gary Schwitzer is a journalist and founder, HealthNewsReview.org.

Image credit: Shutterstock.com

Source: https://bloghyped.com/prostate-cancer-screening-campaigns-are-giving-men-the-finger/

[how2to18]

IF YOU NEED to ask who Konstantin Batyushkov is, this is the book for you. For fans of Russian poetry, and especially for Russophone poets, Batyushkov (1787–1855) is a vital figure who wrote exquisite verse and helped to usher in what is known as the Golden Age of Russian poetry. Admired by contemporaries, he is read and cited by later poets as well. Peter France, framer of this book, notes that Batyushkov is too often mentioned or discussed merely as a precursor of the best-known Golden Age poet, Aleksandr Pushkin (1799–1837); Pushkin is a relatively minor presence in this narrative, though often “name-checked” to provide context. This selection-cum-biography of Batyushkov is part of the Russian Library now emerging from Columbia University Press, underlining the commitment of that series to making Russian classics available in English. The cover describes Peter France as presenter and translator, which understates what he has done: besides introducing the volume, he is the author of a substantial artistic and intellectual biography of the poet that provides a large selection of Batyushkov’s own writings in France’s translation. The verse is set apart graphically, making it easy to flip through the book following the poetry — ideally after reading the whole thing through.

Batyushkov was a translator of note, as Writings from the Golden Age of Russian Poetry often reminds us. The attention to Batyushkov’s poetic sources suggests interesting ways to compare his translations or adaptations with the originals in Greek or Latin, English, French, or Italian. Of course, it also means looking at a translation of a translation, something of a mise en abîme. It is refreshing that France’s book makes the role of translation explicit (while sometimes offering the original, as with a late stanza or two from Byron’s Don Juan). The approach is valuable for poetry of the early 19th century, and especially for Russian literature, which has on the whole been much readier than most European literatures to acknowledge its foreign sources and their arrival via translation.

France stresses Batyushkov’s dual role both as gifted individual author and as shaper of what quickly became a world-class literature with a more flexible system of poetic genres. This entailed assimilating and recreating poems from other languages as part of his own poetry: “through translation, Batyushkov could create his own individual voice, something different from existing Russian poetry [which was a] still young poetic culture.” As France reminds us, “the first great poet in modern Russian, Lomonosov, preceded [Batyushkov] by only two generations.”

In the first two decades of the 19th century, Russian poetry was indeed a small and largely private scene, featuring almost exclusively aristocratic authors. In this era, poetry often spread in manuscript and could build a reputation without being published, like Batyushkov’s mocking “Vision on the Banks of Lethe.” Batyushkov knew everyone who was anyone at least well enough to exchange letters or to tease in a poetic parody. The likes of Nikolay Karamzin, Vasily Zhukovsky, and Pyotr Vyazemsky make frequent appearances in this volume as friends, authors, and correspondents. (It is too bad that there is no index to help retrieve these moments, especially given the solidity of many of the text’s insights and summaries, but that adds value to the searchable ebook.)

Writings from the Golden Age of Russian Poetry interweaves translations of poetry (plus excerpts from prose essays and personal letters) with history and biography. This usefully lets France prepare his reader for a work’s significance before its translation appears. It also lets him select only high points, whereas the usual poetry anthology would be obliged to include complete poems. The welcoming narrative presentation of information, explanation, and interpretation opens the work to understanding while still putting the poetry at center stage. By the time we reach the poem “My Penates” on page 85, for instance, we know it is important, and reaching it even feels like a reward. This is a wise choice for the first significant presentation of the poet in English. (There have been PhD dissertations on Batyushkov in North America, but they appeal to a different readership.)

Historical background includes Batyushkov’s time in the army, with visits to Finland, Germany, and France, and details of the Napoleonic era as a whole. Batyushkov did much of his best work in isolation in a village, for financial reasons. Some background is left unmentioned; we hear, for instance, that Batyushkov inherited a village from his mother, and that he often stayed there, especially when he was short of money, but not that the village came with serfs, whose labor made living there so much less expensive for him. Many Russians at the time considered serfdom distinct from slavery, indeed a sensible way of caring for the land and accommodating the various roles of the different “estates” (aristocrats, clergy, merchants, and — the huge majority — peasants). Batyushkov probably shared that way of thinking; France notes his conservative tendencies and cites some distinctly unrevolutionary comments from his letters. In fairness, one volume cannot do everything, but social background is particularly important, since the Decembrist movement was brewing, even if the 1825 uprising and Tsar Nicholas I’s response came after Batyushkov had left public life. We do hear about the poet’s more radical cousin, Nikita Muravyov, who was condemned to death in 1826 but had the sentence commuted to exile in Siberia.

France clearly likes Batyushkov as a person. Without smoothing away contradictions, he draws attention to the poet’s wit, cleverness, and congeniality, stressing the elevation of friendship in his elegies and the importance of his friendly missives (as the Formalist critics of the early 20th century pointed out, these were an active part of the literary system at the time, meant to be read aloud in salons). The narrative cherry-picks the most interesting parts of Batyushkov’s letters to fellow poets like Nikolay Gnedich, the translator of the Iliad into Russian and Batyshkov’s close friend, and prepares the reader to appreciate their significance.

These letters [from 1811] to friends are real works of art, frequently prefiguring the new kind of poetry that Batyushkov was writing. They are written from the heart, with frequent complaints about illness, boredom, poverty, and other woes, as we have seen. But they are also performances, full of zest, veering from familiarity to mock pomposity — the sort of letter that needs to be read aloud.

As that excerpt demonstrates, France’s text is highly knowledgeable but refreshingly unacademic. Poets and general readers should appreciate this volume as much as teachers and scholars who can now quote elegant translations. When a work must be seen as a whole to be appreciated, the volume gives it, be it short or long; these include adaptations/translations from the anthology that Batyushkov translated from Sergey Uvarov’s French versions of classical poems and “Tasso Dying,” one of Batyushkov’s masterpieces.

Batyushkov’s connection with Italian language and literature was (and is) unusual in Russia. Tasso (1544–1595) was his favorite, and the Russian poet’s friends sometimes called him Torquato in tribute to this enthusiasm. The attraction to Italian was not just an example of his use of significant foreign models; it expresses his quest for musicality, the sonorous acoustic quality for which his poetry has been noted ever since. Batyushkov eventually managed to get himself posted to Italy in the diplomatic service, though it seems to have happened too late: his health did not improve, he didn’t get along with his first boss, and he was lonely (not many Russians in Naples). He asked to retire after two years and left even before that request was approved.

Among other helpful spoilers, the book quickly mentions and regularly repeats that Batyushkov went mad and wrote almost nothing (as far as we know) in the last three decades of his life. For a reader unaware of this, the retroactive foreknowledge may create tragic suspense, the question of when and how it will happen. Surely the eventual madness has attracted some later readers (especially poets): more than a personal tragedy, it somehow suggests the risks poets (or any sensitive artistic souls) run in Russia, even if, like Batyushkov, they are not at all political radicals or dissidents. His last “sane” poem was written between 1821 and 1824:

Reader, have you not heard

Of gray Melchisedec’s last words?

Man is born a slave,

A slave goes to the grave,

And can he hope that death will say

Why he walked through this lovely vale of tears

Suffered, complained, accepted, disappeared?

We get a compressed picture of the “mute” final decades, as the poet strolled in the provincial city of Vologda, attended theater, smiled at children. One “crazy” poem has survived, and is extremely interesting from today’s point of view, informed by Russian Futurism and other avant-garde movements. France wisely offers both a literal translation of the phonetic play at that poem’s end (“Tsaritsas, rule as tsars, and you, the empress! / Tsars, do not rule as tsars, I myself am a tsar on Pindus! / Venus my sister, and you my little sister. / But my Caesar is the holy reaper [a kesar’ moy — svyatoy kosar’],”) before giving his freer version, which creates similar phonetic play in English (citing the same final four lines):

Be stars for us, my empress, my tsaritsas! Tsars are not stars: Mount Pindus is my state, Venus my sister, you my little sister, My Caesar — scissors in the hands of Fate.

In his translations France strives for metrical and rhyming equivalence, though never at the cost of poetic quality. He uses slant rhyme frequently, and he employs a rich vocabulary. His gift for scansion results in effective and sophisticated deployment of rhythm — whole long sections read without “jingling” or growing monotonous. Given the typically shorter length of common English words, the lines in translation are often a foot shorter (e.g., pentameter rather than hexameter). The reader may find herself settling into the longer translations and wishing there were more, even of a long poem. France is very responsive to form and addresses it explicitly here and there, though in other places a curious reader would have to pick up or look up the original to check for differences (Batyushkov’s work is widely available online, like other Russian poetry of every era). It would be worth citing much more than space will allow here.

One early example, excerpted from a letter, France calls doggerel:

I’m shivering with cold, Though I’m sitting by the stove, Lying under my coat I see the fire’s glow, But I tremble like a vole, Or like a wretched mole, I love the warmth of coal But I wander through the cold, Only verse keeps me whole.

Humor flashes again in a longer complaint about village life: in one stanza, the village doctor “Treats me with wormwood potions / And soups made out of bone, / And with these clever notions / He’ll see me dead and gone.” The poetry rests firmly in its context in Batyushkov’s career and in the whole development of Russian poetry: France notes that the 1813 epistle “To [Dmitry] Dashkov” “marks a turning point in his work. It deals with a subject — war — which in the traditional poetics would have been treated in a high formal ode; Batyushkov’s treatment shows his innovative genius, breaking down the barriers between genres, mixing different styles, solemn, lyrical, and familiar, to express an individual take on life.” The text dwells for many pages on the two-volume collection of Batyushkov’s work, Essays, edited by Gnedich, which included a volume of prose (largely essays: Batyushkov was a particular admirer of Montaigne) and one of verse. France writes:

The first and much the longest section is entitled ‘Elegies’ — and Batyushkov is often seen as a crucial figure in establishing the elegy as the central poetic genre of the Russian Golden Age. The term is a capacious one in Russian literature, but essentially it is distinguished from the more formal ode by its concentration on the expression of personal feelings.

Batyushkov’s groundbreaking anthology translations of classical poems emerge elegantly in France’s translations:

IV

When a girl in agony is fading

   and her body is blue and chilled,

it is in vain love pours out flowers

   and amber; she must lie still,

pale as a lily of the fields,

   like a waxen form; and now

flowers cannot warm her cooling hands

   and perfume has no power.

The poem begins with appropriate stiffness, but its end is genuinely moving, an example both of Poe’s “most poetical topic in the world” and of Batyushkov’s ability to warm it into something vibrant.

France’s recurrent but non-irritating reminders of things and people already mentioned ensure that everything makes sense and resonates where needed with its proper significance. (This should be especially helpful for readers unfamiliar with Russian names.) After the biography ends, the last full chapter gives an evaluation of Batyushkov’s place in Russian poetry. As France suggests by opening his volume with the great Modernist Osip Mandelstam’s poem “Batyushkov,” the 19th-century poet is important enough merely for his impact on other poets, from Pushkin to the present day.

And let me say a few words about Peter France himself, who has translated Russian poets including Evgeny Baratynsky, Mikhail Lermontov, Osip Mandelstam, and Gennady Aigi, not even mentioning his work with French. Many of these turn out to be connected to Batyushkov in ways that are productive for this project; if France needs to cite a poet, he can usually do so in his own version. Toward the end of the volume, he cites Maria Rybakova’s 2011 novel in verse Gnedich, devoted to Nikolay Gnedich, who plays such an important role in this book, as well as Elena Dimov’s excellent 2015 translation of that work from the Russian. France generously credits Rybakova with inspiring his interest in Batyushkov, and thus the volume at hand.

Like the whole Russian Library series, Writings from the Golden Age of Russian Poetry has beautiful production values, and its cover is especially successful, bringing out the best of perpendicular text and the pleasing geometric juxtaposition of a lyre and a cannon wheel. Almost at the end of the volume, following the notes, is a “Translator’s Note” in which France briefly discusses his work on Batyushkov and calls translation “this daunting but (for me) irresistible task.” This draws attention to the book’s double value: it treats an essential Russian poet, and it shows a master translator at the height of his powers.

¤

Sibelan Forrester has published translations of prose and poetry from Russian and Croatian, and of prose from Serbian. She is professor of Russian Language and Literature at Swarthmore College.

The post “Reader, Have You Not Heard?”: On “Writings from the Golden Age of Russian Poetry” appeared first on Los Angeles Review of Books.

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