#but apparently she's not being educated about me/cfs

[elektroyu]

Back from the psychiatrist, where I get my sick leave slips. Today my usual doc was sick so someone else took over and let me tell you. Medical gaslighting, she was really good at that.

[montagnarde1793]

Ribbons of Scarlet: A predictably terrible novel on the French Revolution (part 4)

Parts 1, 2, 3 and 5.

Inaccuracies: the minor, the inconsistent, the fuck no and the unintentionally hilarious

I have no intention of detailing every historical inaccuracy in this book. I’d say we’d be here all day, but we’ve already been here all day, so maybe all week?

The book is riddled with minor errors, oversimplifications and dubious interpretations — some of which could be chalked up in theory to writing from a limited POV, but this is not a book that allows for that kind of complexity. Opinions may be those of the characters, but explanations for events and who belongs to what group and so on tend to be those of the authors regardless of which character is speaking.

Given the level of detail of this book, I would count things like Condorcet’s being made a member of the Constituent Assembly or the Revolutionary Tribunal being founded by September 1792 minor errors. They might even have been deliberate (combining the Constituent and the Legislative Assemblies or the Tribunal of 27 August and the Revolutionary Tribunal, for “simplicity”’s sake).

“Les Enragés” is also an official group and that’s their official self-designation in the world of this novel. Um. Ok.

Also things like the complete lack of self-awareness revealed by the assumption that because 21st century Americans consider omelettes a breakfast food this must be a universal constant.

Anyway, I find that kind of thing irritating but pretty inevitable. Errare humanum est and all that.

Other minor errors are forgivable in and of themselves, I suppose, but indicative of a larger lack of understanding, similar to some of the implausible scenarios the authors set up (cf. Manon Roland’s random trip to Caen).

There’s a moment, for example, when one of the figures on trial for “conspiracy” in the red shirt affair appeals to the crowd by saying “I am suspected merely because I am an émigré.” (p. 490) which is hilarious when you realize the fact of being an émigré and returning to France after the cut-off date was already punishable by execution — a law pushed among others by our friends the reasonable, moderate “Girondins.” And I say this not to condemn them (on this point, at least) — there were actual, serious arguments in support of such a law — but to highlight a trend. The authors have decided that certain figures are reasonable, so they give them what they consider to be reasonable opinions, whether or not those opinions line up with those they actually held and, as we’ll see, they’ve decided others are dangerous extremists, so likewise they only get to do things the authors consider extreme, or at best hypocritical.

Usually there’s at least some consistency to the errors — too much in fact, as noted. But the fanciful claim that the guillotine was painted red and that everyone who was executed was dressed in red to hide the blood is repeated more than once, before being replaced with the accurate assertion that dressing the condemned in red was reserved for assassins (also arsonists and poisoners, in accordance with the penal code of 1791).

More serious are the “errors” that serve a certain narrative, like the repeated assertion that Louis XVI abolished torture and notably execution by breaking on the wheel. Er… no he didn’t. I’m going to charitably assume that the authors just confused torture for the purposes of obtaining a confession with torture as a punishment. Louis XVI abolished the former, not the latter. That may seem like a nitpick, but they make a very big fuss about it.

People were still being broken on the wheel until the implementation of the Constituent Assembly’s penal code which provided that all executions should be equal and as quick and painless as possible — ultimately leading to the adoption of the guillotine. The first execution by guillotine is apparently such a crucial event that we have to implausibly have Louis XVI’s sister sneak out and witness it, but we’ll just ignore the fact that the “hero” La Fayette’s cousin bloodily repressed the mutiny of Swiss soldiers in Nancy resulting in a number of hangings and one man being broken on the wheel — repression that La Fayette applauded — in 1790, because 1790 is a year in which nothing happened.

Besides, as is well known, La Fayette never did anything wrong (Sophie de Grouchy forgives him for firing on her when she was petitioning for a republic in 1791 (p. 509-510) so you should too, I guess. Though while we’re here, her signing the Champ de Mars petition is a pretty unlikely scenario, actually, given that only the Cordeliers petition remained after the Assembly’s 15 July decree and that even before that Condorcet didn’t dare to sign his articles in favor of a much less democratic republic than the Cordeliers were advocating for Le Républicain (which prudently stopped publication after 15 July).)

The abolition of torture thing is merely one of a number of errors or exaggeratedly charitable interpretations of Louis XVI’s actions to fit the myth of the fundamentally well-meaning, soft-hearted reformer who was just in over his head. Mme Élisabeth’s violence, while I commend it for its accuracy, serves to highlight her brother’s pacifism. We’re meant to believe that of course it was nothing but revolutionary slander/conspiracy theories to think he was actually intending to use foreign troops to restore himself to absolute power, despite the overwhelming evidence to the contrary. Mme Élisabeth asserts that she would like that to happen but her brother would never and Manon Roland confirms it from her point of view too.

On a similar note, Condorcet gets his usual “consensual figure” treatment. We’re unsurprisingly fed the myth of Condorcet as the paragon of democracy and feminism, with nary a touch of ambiguity. Even Pauline Léon can only reproach him with being ineffectual. That’s par for the course, as is framing the people’s fears of grain speculation as a conspiracy theory at least from Sophie de Grouchy’s point of view, though nothing in the text contradicts her at any point (p. 61), but framing Condorcet’s pre-revolutionary math lectures at the Lycée as him and his wife opening a school for popular education and Sophie de Grouchy personally teaching Reine Audu to read at her husband’s invitation… That’s pretty disingenuous.

On the other hand, nothing is too awful to be believed without question of the “radical” revolutionaries, whether it comes from dubious sources (as regards the myths about Lamballe being stripped naked and/or raped before or — depending on the “source” — after being massacred, or about Charlotte Corday’s head being slapped by the executioner and her body examined for evidence of virginity, or Robespierre’s lusting over Émilie de Sainte-Amaranthe and personally participating in Catherine Théot’s rituals) or is just made up. Surely the September Massacres were bad enough without imagining that random bystanders — including children — were being raped and massacred in the streets? Since calling for the execution of adult royals based on their actual actions doesn’t sound sinister enough, let’s have Pauline Léon demand the massacre of Louis XVI’s underage children too!

On that note, I have to wonder whether part of the problem is that we’re so used to hearing about atrocities on a scale that dwarfs anything that happened in the 1790s that what the sources suggest — which could still be pretty ugly, don’t get me wrong — doesn’t live up to the hype. The French Revolution is built up in reactionary propaganda like it’s one of the periods of the worst violence in history. I suspect that it’s like with a scary movie: your imagination will conjure up something far scarier than what they could show you on screen. So, expecting to find horrors, you readily believe whichever sources (or “sources”) have the most of them and fill in the blanks when the sources don’t match up to your image of what terror, chaos and violence look like.

It’s basically just deductive reasoning: they say there was horrific violence, so I’m going to depict what must have happened according to my mental image of horrific violence. It’s no different really from deciding a character is reasonable and therefore giving them the opinions you find reasonable. But not only is this poor methodology (which perhaps you don’t care about, as a novelist), it sucks out everything that’s nuanced or complicated or surprising about history for the sake of flattering your own prejudices. And that’s a shame.

Anyway, as for the red shirt affair, it’s generally believed by historians to be a cynical maneuver on the part of the Committee of General Security* to make Robespierre look like a tyrant by executing a large group of supposed co-conspirators with would-be assassins Ladmirat/Ladmiral and Cécile Renault but needless to say — and following G. Lenotre’s lead — that’s not at all how it’s portrayed here. Robespierre is of course personally involved for his own (necessarily hypocritical) reasons. He wants Émilie de Sainte-Amaranthe but in this telling she and her family have reason to believe he’s cozying up to royalists like them for personal political gain too. Oh, also, Saint-Just and Fouquier-Tinville are lusting over Émilie de Sainte-Amaranthe too, because why the fuck not?

*To use the misleading standard translation (sûreté ≠ sécurité)

Particularly ludicrous is the insinuation that not only did the Convention abolish slavery entirely as an expedient — which, to be fair, some historians argue, though there’s ample evidence that proves there was more to it than that — but that they had to because otherwise the British and Spanish would come to the slaves’ aid first. As if the plantation owners were not doing their level best to deliver their colonies over to the British precisely to preserve slavery. That bit was just insulting.

But you know, why let a little thing like reality interfere with dividing the world into reasonable people and hypocritical demagogues and the mobs that they incite, am I right?

And it’s often the absence of certain realities that poses the greatest problem. Like, counterrevolutionaries aren’t a real threat, that’s all a figment of the revolutionaries’ imagination... but as usual this idea coexists uncomfortably with the existence of actual counterrevolutionaries in the narrative.

The war, which dominated everyone’s reality from 1792 onward, is barely mentioned. Manon Roland is made to treat the idea that the Prussians were well positioned to march on Paris after the surrender of Verdun as an absurd rumor (p. 268-269) and we’re meant to agree. (This was very much not an imaginary threat, if you didn’t know.)

Also! Get ready because I’m going to cite Serna favorably for once:

Il est frappant de noter combien l’historiographie s’est de suite intéressée aux massacres de Paris et aux prisonniers d’Orléans, sans vraiment porter son intérêt sur les morts civils sur le front et la mise à sac des villes et villages à la frontière, deux poids deux mesures qui ne peuvent qu’interroger.

–      Pierre Serna, « « La France est république » : Comment est né le Nouveau Régime dans le Patriote français de Brissot » dans Michel Biard, Philippe Bourdin, Hervé Leuwers et Pierre Serna, dir., 1792. Entrer en République, Paris, A. Colin, 2013, NP, note 37.

(Translation: “It’s striking to note how the historiography took an immediate interest in the massacres in Paris and the prisoners of Orléans, without really getting interested in the civilian deaths at the front and the sacking of cities and towns along the border, a double standard that we can’t help but question.”)

I mean, we know why: military violence, up to and including every kind of war crime, is normal and expected as long as it’s a proper war conducted between two foreign powers (though the various foyers of civil war also don’t really come up in this book). But yeah, that is a pretty big fucking hypocritical double standard, isn’t it? And one that this particular novel reflects rather than invents (as is also true of many of its other flaws, to be entirely fair).

It’s also particularly ironic, for a book that touts itself as feminist, that the real gains made by women regarding inheritance, marriage redefined as a contract between equal partners dissolvable by divorce, the rights of single mothers and illegitimate children and so on — even if the periods of Reaction that followed reversed them — are nowhere to be seen. Nor do we see women voting on the constitution of 1793 or fighting in the army or any of a number of things real women did. I concede that no one novel can be expected to show everything, but given the things they bent over backward to include, would it have been so difficult to include things that are thematically relevant?

This wouldn’t even piss me off so much except for the way Pauline Léon’s storyline ends. Her arc consists of her being convinced of the folly of those of her beliefs that the author doesn’t approve of so that she can be used as a mouthpiece for the moral the author wants us to take from all this and then being forced into marriage because she gets pregnant. And I cite (p. 433):

They would silence us all.

One woman at a time.

First the Angel of Assassination. Then Widow Capet, who had once been queen. Olympe de Gouges five days ago. Now proud Manon Roland.

A professed Girondin, Manon was still against tyranny and had been an advocate for the republic since the dawn of the Terror. Once, I wouldn’t have been able to admit that, but I could admit it now. Now that it’s too late.

And, when she tells Théophile Leclerc he got her pregnant, he replies (p. 435):

“‘We must marry. You’ve no other choice,’” he continued when I didn’t respond. […]

We had wanted liberty in France. But what freedom was there now? I had none. Théo would possess me utterly. I knew it, because the look her gave me had me wanting to crumble to the ground. All the choices I’d fought years for had been stripped away.

And now, I was nothing.

If there’s one point in history before the last 50 years or so that that’s not true it’s in 1793, when this scene is set. Will she be more comfortably off if she marries? Yes, and that would unfortunately be true pregnant or not. But there’s nothing forcing her to marry him if she doesn’t want to and even if she does he doesn’t own or control her under revolutionary marriage law. Were things perfect for women in 1793? Of course not, but given that they were a lot worse both before and especially after, I’m more than a little sick of 1793 being portrayed as the most misogynist of all the misogynist eras.

Ironically though, they omit Amar’s report and the closing of women’s political societies* which is a far more relevant and accurate point if you’re trying to make the case for revolutionary misogyny. Not to mention, it’s kind of baffling to leave it out of Pauline Léon’s storyline as it was targeted against the society she led in particular. (Her section ends instead with Manon Roland’s execution.) But I guess that would require introducing Amar and we can’t have people believing that Robespierre, Danton and Marat weren’t the only Montagnards; they might get confused otherwise. Maybe at this point I should just be glad they didn’t give Robespierre Amar’s speech in the name of consolidation of characters?

*NB, mixed societies were never closed (until the Thermidorian Reaction shut down all political clubs), so the result is a bit more ambiguous than is often claimed.

Anyway. We’ll finally conclude this mess in the next part…

[a-typical]

It is interesting to consider one more aspect of Mrs. Stowe’s novel, the method she used to solve the problem of writing about a black man at all.

Apart from her lively procession of field hands, house niggers, Chloe, Topsy, etc.—who are the stock, lovable figures presenting no problem—she has only three other Negroes in the book. These are the important ones and two of them may be dismissed immediately, since we have only the author’s word that they are Negro and they are, in all other respects, as white as she can make them. The two are George and Eliza, a married couple with a wholly adorable child—whose quaintness, incidentally, and whose charm, rather put one in mind of a darky bootblack doing a buck and wing to the clatter of condescending coins. Eliza is a beautiful, pious hybrid, light enough to pass—the heroine of Quality might, indeed, be her reincarnation—differing from the genteel mistress who has overseered her education only in the respect that she is a servant. George is darker, but makes up for it by being a mechanical genius, and is, moreover, sufficiently un-Negroid to pass through town, a fugitive from his master, disguised as a Spanish gentleman, attracting no attention whatever beyond admiration. They are a race apart from Topsy. It transpires by the end of the novel, through one of those energetic, last-minute convolutions of the plot, that Eliza has some connection with French gentility.

The figure from whom the novel takes its name, Uncle Tom, who is a figure of controversy yet, is jet-black, wooly-haired, illiterate; and he is phenomenally forbearing. He has to be; he is black; only through this forbearance can he survive or triumph. (Cf. Faulkner’s preface to The Sound and the Fury: These others were not Compsons. They were black:—They endured.) His triumph is metaphysical, unearthly; since he is black, born without the light, it is only through humility, the incessant mortification of the flesh, that he can enter into communion with God or man. The virtuous rage of Mrs. Stowe is motivated by nothing so temporal as a concern for the relationship of men to one another—or, even, as she would have claimed, by a concern for their relationship to God—but merely by a panic of being hurled into the flames, of being caught in traffic with the devil. She embraced this merciless doctrine with all her heart, bargaining shamelessly before the throne of grace: God and salvation becoming her personal property, purchased with the coin of her virtue. Here, black equates with evil and white with grace; if, being mindful of the necessity of good works, she could not cast out the blacks—a wretched, huddled mass, apparently, claiming, like an obsession, her inner eye—she could not embrace them either without purifying them of sin. She must cover their intimidating nakedness, robe them in white, the garments of salvation; only thus could she herself be delivered from ever-present sin, only thus could she bury, as St. Paul demanded, “the carnal man, the man of the flesh.” Tom, therefore, her only black man, has been robbed of his humanity and divested of his sex. It is the price for that darkness with which he has been branded.

Uncle Tom’s Cabin, then, is activated by what might be called a theological terror, the terror of damnation; and the spirit that breathes in this book, hot, self-righteous, fearful, is not different from that spirit of medieval times which sought to exorcize evil by burning witches; and is not different from that terror which activates a lynch mob. One need not, indeed, search for examples so historic or so gaudy; this is a warfare waged daily in the heart, a warfare so vast, so relentless and so powerful that the interracial handshake or the interracial marriage can be as crucifying as the public hanging or the secret rape. This panic motivates our cruelty, this fear of the dark makes it impossible that our lives shall be other than superficial; this, interlocked with and feeding our glittering, mechanical, inescapable civilization which has put to death our freedom.

Notes of a Native Son, James Baldwin, 1955

[missanthropicprinciple]

Old review of The Mrs. Bradley Mysteries from the late epinions site: “Thoroughly Modern Millie meets Miss Marple!” Aug 04 '03

SPOILER ALERT:

“Author's Product Rating

Product Rating: 5.0

Pros Diana Rigg. Great sets & costumes. Enormous fun!

Cons Is this a trick question?

The Bottom Line: Diana Rigg scores another triumph in a set of elegant, swellegant mysteries. She plays the wry, sophisticated Mrs. Bradley to perfection in 4 wonderful cases. Great entertainment!

Full Review: Plot Details: This opinion reveals major details about the movie's plot. The bad news is that the notation of "Set 1" here is apparently a misnomer. There will likely not be a "Set 2". These 4 episodes were filmed in 1999, and I can find no indication that any more were ever made.

The good news is everything else. Rigg introduces each episode, Rigg stars in each episode -- the whole thing is Rigged! There is also a pilot episode from 1998, "Speedy Death", that is not included in this set but was issued separately at the usual excessive price. Based on the ad that aired with the series, this set should have all 4 episodes -- the listing doesn't yet provide any details about exactly what "set 1" contains. Check before buying!

Diana Rigg is superb (like we're surprised?) as Adela Bradley, an educated, liberated, and enlightened (and very wealthy) widow who has great success as an amateur detective in the 1920s. This was a time when most women were still house slaves. It's interesting that the series doesn't show men being particular upset by her successful flaunting of convention (when told, "This is a respectable hotel", she retorts, "Is it? Too bad."). In any event Rigg plays the role with great panache, wittily engaging the camera in brief monologues from time to time (cf. Ian Richardson in "House of Cards" and its sequels). It should be observed that Rigg isn't really the right physical type for this role (Mrs. B. is described as "birdlike" and "frail"); but she makes the role utterly her own, so who cares?

Seconding Mrs. Bradley, Watson to her Holmes, is her chauffeur and probable lover, George Moody, played with solid reliability by Neil Dudgeon. Her is her seriously dedicated, almost dour, very observant, and extremely handy man. Dudgeon is simply marvelous in the role, with a subtly controlled (almost disguised) sense of humor. He's a splendid foil for Rigg's la-de-da approach.

Seen on some episodes is Inspector Christmas, played by Peter Davison. Christmas is a businesslike cop who seems to relish Mrs. Bradley's assistance. Davison plays him in an almost curiously deferential manner ... until the 4th episode, when he's nice enough but seems less than pleased to see Mrs. Bradley when she first shows up.

There are a variety of other actors, varying from episode to episode. They are all solid and convincing in their roles. Every production is elegantly presented with a literate script, attractive and interesting settings, and dedicated performances. Rigg's outfits are stunning. The realization is widescreen...very nice.

In the 1999 season the episodes are:

1. Death at the Opera. Mrs. is invited to speak to the girls at a finishing school ("where girls go to be finished, which they will be if they believe all the twaddle...") that she attended long before. Before her speech, a murder occurs during a (hilariously inept) performance of The Mikado. One of the great charms of this series is its use of period jazz ... as in this case, when the opening music is "Just a Japanese Sandman". The investigation of the crime is typically labyrinthine ... at one point Mrs. B. volunteers Moody to model for a life class ... she's always volunteering him to do degrading little chores ... but by the same token he's nicely nosey and always finds valuable clues. For the first time Mrs. B. meets Inspector Christmas, who is very charming and Moody goes all ... well, moody. There is a delightfully kinky array of red herrings, and a second murder, as we find is usual in these affairs. The final break in the case comes through hypnosis.

2. The Rising of the Moon. Inspector Christmas, all bustle and enthusiasm, calls Mrs. B. in on a perplexing case of a fatal stabbing at a mostly Romany circus ... the partner of the knife-thrower, who of course quickly comes under suspicion. It's a clear case of cherchez l'homme, since la femme is the victim and gypsies don't have butlers. In this episode, Mrs.B. volunteers Moody to have knives thrown at him. "Scratches on the back indicate a passionate relationship, which is why my late husband remained totally unscathed." You gotta love this lady. The actor to watch here is Kenneth Colley as the red-headed Mr. Burlington. He's got a well-known face on British telly, and he uses it most wonderfully expressively here. Also Janine Duvitski, ditzily hilarious as Jane in "Waiting for God", and equally expressive, as one of the townspeople who don't cotton much to ousiders -- unless, in her case, they wear pants. In the music there's even a bit of Gershwin..."Walking the Dog" when Mrs. B. is striding along, and Richard Rodgers' "Slaughter on 10th Avenue" as the murderer is confessing.. Then we have the usual 2nd murder, and numerous cases of local people making pratts of themselves. And then Burlington tells Moody ... ah, well, you'll need to watch it then, won't you? Watch the pot on the stove. We get "Blue Moon" and "You're the Cream in My Coffee" at the end. Very nice.

3. Laurels Are Poison. Mrs. B. visits a haunted house in the country (always best for murders), to visit a friend. We get a bit of what must be her theme song, "Anything Goes". What fun ... you get to learn what a ha-ha is. "Anything Goes" includes a gift of Lady Chatterley's Lover, then banned in Britain, to her friend -- who is alas, rather elderly and up-tight. The place is crawling with secrets and subjects not to be discussed right from the beginning, especially regarding events of World War I. Shades of "Gosford Park", says I. However, since the old master of the house is already dead, the cook buys it instead. The gardener, otherwise gorgeous, is a nasty bit of work. Red herrings abound. Moody is also experiencing a bit of tension because the new master of the house, the old master's son-in-law, was his commanding officer in the War and they have unfinished business. The second death is a little late, and (alas) only a suicide. And then the guilty little secrets multiply like rabbits, but the ending is mostly happier than one might have expected.

4. The Worsted Viper. Mrs. B. pops off to a seashore town to present an award to local resident Inspector Christmas, whose welcoming smile is something of a grimace. Moody's daughter also lives there and is getting married. Her intended, Ronald Quincy (Eddie Marsan), who looks a bit of twit, is with her when she greets her father and they break the news to him. He's the son of the local hotel owner, a lady of delightful uptightness. A familiar face in the production is John Bowe, who portrays Reverend Baines ... who also writes a local newspaper column secretly under the name of "Miss Behavior". It's a name Mrs. B. can't help but love. The first murder victim shows up almost immediately, the Reverend's elder daughter Chastity, strangled with a worsted viper ("some sort of woolen snake" Moody calls it) and her hair cut off. Mrs. B. immediately suspects a connection with a case of multiple ritual murders she had solved years ago. Again, there's a whole school of red herrings. "My belief in god is roughly on a par with my belief in the tooth fairy," Mrs. B. observes at one point, apropos of the prevalent churchy atmosphere. Moody this time is volunteered to wait tables at the hotel. He looks vaguely as if he'd rather be back with the nude modeling. Mrs. B. contemplates children and observes: "There are 3 golden rules for bringing up children. Alas, nobody knows what they are." It helps the case a whole lot that Temperence, the Reverend's other (very young) daughter, has remarkably beautiful penmanship. Really. The second murder doesn't come off, despite a game attempt. There's a whirlwind ending that hinges on whether a third murder attempt will succeed. The solution of the case hinges on a big surprise and you won't hear it from me. Mrs. B. gives her advise on marriage whilst walking under a ladder ... "I'd advise patience, tolerance, -- and above all, separate bathrooms." ((Young love will overcome a deficiency in the last department for a time, as I can attest ... but within 8 months we got a place with 2 facilities. We live there still -- and now it has 3. Old love demands convenience.))

As you can imagine, I recommend these mysteries very highly. If you were unable to record them when broadcast, and assuming your local PBS station is like mine, not very forthcoming with repeats, you can always buy the commercially recorded version. The only problem is that the people who sell these seem always to want 2-3 times what they should. Alas, it's precisely this sort of thing that hardly ever shows up used.

I have said these are suitable for children from age 13 ... not that they are sophisticated enough to be interested. Few indeed are the teenagers who would be attracted to a quality British mystery with quality American (and British) period music.

Recommended Yes

Viewing Format: VHS Video Occasion: Better than Watching TV Suitability For Children: Suitable for Children Age 13 and Older” [x]

[teaformrholmes]

Metafictional Monday

Since the recent post about Holmes and Watson’s reading material proved so popular, I thought I might start an occasional series here where I apply my vast nerdery/old-fashioned education to providing More Background Than Anyone Needs on details of the Holmesian canon. Today: the iconic conclusion to The Hound of the Baskervilles:

“And now, my dear Watson, we have had some weeks of severe work, and for one evening, I think, we may turn our thoughts into more pleasant channels. I have a box for ‘Les Huguenots.’ Have you heard the De Reszkes? Might I trouble you then to be ready in half an hour, and we can stop at Marcini’s for a little dinner on the way?”

Les Huguenots, by Meyerbeer, was arguably the grandest of grand operas, a deliberately spectacular work that was enormously popular. I can’t help thinking that, with his bohemian soul and flair for the dramatic, Holmes probably loved rooting for the protagonists -- the tenor is from a persecuted religious minority, and the soprano is trapped by class/gender expectations. They are, of course, doomed. But the music is really gorgeous. Also, there are such stage directions as “He leaps from the balcony and disappears from sight.” It was first performed in London in 1842, chosen to open the current Covent Garden Theatre in 1858, and given in the 1890s with all-star casts (like the one Holmes has so eagerly acquired a box to see.) I think it’s more likely to have been given in Italian than French, though since Holmes gives it its French title, perhaps it was performed in the original language. Or maybe Holmes is just being a pedantic purist about it; not implausible. As for Marcini’s, it is fictional, but a tribute to London’s Italian cuisine and Holmes’ knowledge of it.

Jean and Edouard de Reszke were Polish opera singers, brothers, and both very famous in the 1890s/1900s, though Jean, the elder, enjoyed the more sensational reputation. Tenors have always been sexier than basses in the popular imagination.

You can go here to hear Edouard, the bass, in a duet from Act III of the opera. Unfortunately, because of the recording technology of the wax cylinder (and its deterioration), de Reszke’s low frequencies are hard to hear, dominated by Lillian Nordica’s impressive soprano. Jean de Reszke was not only, according to rapturous newspaper accounts, a phenomenal singer, he was a superstar. He was very handsome, as well as being a singer with an instrument remarkable for its beauty, agility, and strength.

Just look at this dapper fellow:

And in costume, he got to show off:

FOREARMS. THIGHS. Opera was scandalous, folks. It’s no accident that Irene Adler’s pre-Scandal career was as an opera singer, but I digress.

Even on crackly wax cylinders, you can tell he had amazing control over his phrasing and dynamics. If the little trill at 4:30 in this video doesn’t make you go weak at the knees...!

If you’d like to hear more of what Les Huguenots actually sounded like, here’s one of the lovers’ great scenes, sung by two of the twentieth century’s greatest singers (in Italian) is here. I think that the Nordica/Jean de Reszke cylinder is an excerpt of this scene. Here’s the same moment -- the soprano has just ill-advisedly confessed her love, the tenor is blissed out about it, and she is terrified for their safety -- in a more recent rendition in French:

Did I mention this opera is capital-R Romantic? Good.

As for how Holmes and Watson would have listened to the opera: the late nineteenth century was a period when norms of listening and general opera house behavior were a) changing and b) variable. An eye-witness account of the first New York performance of Parsifal reports people trying to read their programs by the house lights because they hadn’t studied them ahead of time and others even eating peanuts in the upper galleries. In ordering a box, Holmes would have obtained for himself and Watson privacy from other people gossiping or whispering or flirting or eating peanuts or whatever; they could enjoy in the rapturous silence which apparently distinguished Holmes when listening to music (cf. REDH.) The fact that Holmes not only loved German music for introspection, but loved passionate, ridiculous, sublime opera like this makes me Seriously Question the narrative pretense that Watson only occasionally got a glimpse of the heart behind the brain. Perhaps Watson (bless his traditional, Mendelssohn-loving heart) was one of those people who just doesn’t really get opera? It’s possible. But after weeks on the moor, Holmes decided that the ideal antidote to dealing with sordid jealousies and petty, devastating revenges was a grand opera about love and self-sacrifice. Perfect.

[maybe-babyc]

Update about yesterday

Let me preface this by saying I am in mobile so I'll start with a super short summary and if that's all you want to read, great. If you want to keep reading please feel free. First up we're 24 weeks! Like we're having a real baby now. That's crazy to me. First appointment yesterday was with our Cystic Fibrosis Clinic. Went in armed for questions. Was told I was really prepared and that they were impressed. Number one thing that took me by surprise is that they want to start enzymes immediately after birth. We were super impressed with the clinic, so we'll be using that one (which was expected). Second appointment, Maternal Fetal Medicine. HES HEAD DOWN!!!!! And we hope he stays there. Down to 56th percentile from 97th! And his heart looked good! So we're done with that doctor! Third appointment, OB. Only gained 2 pounds this month and she didn't mention my weight. Got my glucose test scheduled. Pretty sure we picked a hospital. They even do laboring in water if you're a good candidate. So there's the short update, keep reading if you want an extensive look into my crazy ass day from yesterday. More on the CF clinic. We met with one of the directors (and pulmonologists) and their educator. We got so much information. So much. They push for breastfeeding which is great. They'll start enzymes at birth or within a few days. At a month we'll start nebulizer meds (albuterol). Sweat test hopefully in the first 3-4 months. Pulmozyne at 6 months I believe. Vest treatments will begin as soon as his chest circumference is big enough. Kalydeco at 2. And currently there are no centers doing clinical trials for his mutation /age even though it says so online. They have 2 research specialists who literally only deal with clinical trials. Every week every member of the CF team meets to talk about each and every case they have coming in to clinic that week. So if there's ever any trial they would be willing to send him to, they would know before we would. They are incredibly proactive and have already warned that there's a lot of other CF mom/clinics/doctors that don't do things the way they do them, but they would rather prevent the problem or prolong it being a problem than treating more severe issues. Safe to say we're incredibly comfortable with this clinic and their practices. I went home with an entire binder dedicated to keeping track of him CF wise (medically/treatments that kind of thing), a short text book on CF, and tons of loose leaf print outs from the CFF and how my clinic either meets or exceeds the guidelines. Appointment number 2. Maternal Fetal Medicine. Got there a little early, but they got us back quickly anyway. Didn't have the same nurse I always have so I was a little bummed out. But our little guy looks great! He's head down so I'm super pumped! His heart was completely normal. His weight gain has slowed on the percentile charts so no more threat of c section/early induction! Got cleared from them and got a copy of my records. That was interesting. I hadn't gotten to read any of his reports on me before. He's old school, but I was annoyed at home many times he referenced my weight. On my first ultrasound where we were going to do a CVS, it says he didn't do it due to a posterior placenta (which makes sense because he only does abdominal CVS and you have to have anterior for that) but it also says due to my weight. How? Literally how does that have anything to do with it? Anyway, it was talked about in every single ultrasound report. He wanted to do growth scans due to my weight, but said I could be released to my OB for her to do them. Spoiler alert, she didn't think it was necessary. Appointment number three, I was completely brain drained by this point. I couldn't even keep a conversation and the same things had to be repeated multiple times to me. Apparently we've been a little behind on picking a place for birth. Oh well. As long as my insurance covers, we've picked a place (I'm almost positive it's the only of the 3 it covers). Forgot to mention earlier we got the okay from our CF team to deliver wherever as long as they had some kind of NICU just in case and as long as nothing shows up on any ultrasound bowel wise. Got my glucose test set up for my next doctors appointment. She's still very concerned about it. If it's normal she'll go ahead and set up the rest of my appointments next time. If not I will have to go more frequently. So that was my day. It was a lot. It was tiring. Mentally draining. And then my husband and I ended up pissy with each other because it had been such a long stressful day. But hey, at least we could acknowledge that we just both needed to be pissy. Is it Saturday yet? It has been a really long week. @dinosaruh is this what you were looking for? Haha. Baby decided he was awake and I can't really sleep through him being crazy anymore.

[vernicle]

<p>9 surprisingly heartwarming moments you may have missed in last night's 'Game of Thrones.'</p>

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Welcome to “A Music of Pleasant and Fire” Upworthy’s weekly collection recapping just one of the most brutal exhibits on Tv. Due to the fact brutality is not truly in our wheelhouse, Eric March has taken it upon himself to dig deep, twist and change, and squint truly tricky to see if he can find the light-weight of kindness in all the darkness. He may perhaps not always succeed, but by gosh if he won’t attempt his most effective.

Here’s what he located on this week’s "Recreation of Thrones."

FIREBALL!

GIF by "Recreation of Thrones"/HBO.

For an episode large on people non-consensually established ablaze, "The Spoils of War" featured a whole lot of man's-kindness-towards-his-fellow-gentleman. I did not even have to squint that tricky.

Let's dive proper in!

one. The Stark siblings reunite!

"You men are bizarre." Photograph by Helen Sloan/HBO.

Just after 6 and a 50 percent seasons, thousands of miles traveled, various months of assassin teaching, two nightmare marriages, and just one attempt to variety of become a tree, the remaining 3 children of Ned and Catelyn Stark finally get the band back collectively — and it's wonderful.

Certain, it's also a minimal uncomfortable. Bran behaves like the world's most insufferable college or university freshman residence for Thanksgiving who has ideas about the categorical critical, when Sansa significantly suspects that Arya's kill checklist may possibly incorporate a particular crimson-headed sister whose name rhymes with Pantsa Park. Arya, meanwhile, is much too chaotic combating knights 3 moments her measurement to a attract to truly hassle with any palace intrigue, stirring up some of her sister's very long-buried childhood resentment. But for the most component, all people hugs and has a great, easygoing split from the generational trauma they have been subjected to.

And just like at most family members reunions...

2. All people presents all people a dagger!

Like a fruitcake on Christmas early morning, Westeros' most notorious stabbing employ — the knife that almost ended Bran way back in period just one — spends a vast majority of final night's episode getting re-gifted. Littlefinger presents it to Bran, who presents it to Arya, who presents it to Brienne, who presents it back to Arya. Certain, they all have distinct motives, not all of them one hundred% pure, but hey, it's the imagined that counts!

Judging by Arya's fast mastery of the weapon, I can very easily imagine it earning its way into a particular perpetually-on-the-edge-of-cynical-laughter confront ahead of much too very long.

Careful who you pawn that fruitcake off on...

3. A Lannister pays her personal debt.

What do you know? Cersei in fact delivers on her promise to make very good on her bank loan from the Iron Financial institution.

"Gains. Dividends. ROI." Photograph by Helen Sloan/HBO.

Which is A+ financial accountability, even if it included poisoning an aged girl to demise to make it occur.

Gotta balance all those guides!  

4. Bran thanks Meera for dragging him thousands of miles via the snow.

Certainly, he does so in the most ungrateful, detached way feasible and leaves out a couple small information and incidental useless close friends, but if we established the bar as minimal as we quite possibly can, he does say thank you. Turns out you can be all-being aware of and all-seeing and nonetheless recall the critical Emily Article.

Anyway, Meera's off the show now almost certainly, so rating just one for character financial state!

5. Jon presents Daenerys a no cost art heritage lesson in the dragonglass mine.

Time was, a guided tour of the catacombs beneath Dragonstone would established you back one hundred seventy five euros and a cooler total of overpriced baguettes, but here's Jon, supplying it to Daenerys no cost of cost!

"I feel I'm gonna choose a pool working day, but you two go forward!" Photograph by Macall B. Polay/HBO.

Of training course, you will find no such point as a no cost lunch. It turns out that in addition to plenty of dragonglass to slay an army of white walkers, the mine has some seriously spiral-y etchings that conveniently help Jon market the tale he failed to sufficiently transmute to his opportunity ally-in-walking-useless-killing a couple days (Months? Months? Hundreds of years? What is the timeline on this show?) prior. Panicked, throne-home descriptions of ice zombies shipped by a gentleman sporting an IKEA shag rug on his back? Eh. The similar tale scratched on to a cave wall? Which is the type of point that will get a dragon queen on board.

Jon wins her over plenty of that Dany provides her killing prowess — in trade for your conventional pledge of undying loyalty and submission ("Bend the knee"). However, there are some prepare-hitches even Dany is unaware of.

Fortunately...

six. Tyrion delivers the very good news very first!

"Also, loooove the sash." Photograph by Macall B. Polay/HBO.

Fantastic communicators know how to sandwich negative news in between the very good, and that is exactly what Westeros' smartest, most prolific talker does by primary with the wonderful seize of Casterly Rock ahead of filling in the small make a difference of the trapped Unsullied, ransacked assets, and useless allies.

The supply is so tactful that Daenerys stays amazing plenty of to probe Jon for advice — and looks to choose it when he reminds her why persons are into her in the very first place.

Men and women, that is, like him. He looks into her.

Also, she is his aunt.

Weirdly, we all 'ship it.

7. Jamie casually persuades Randyll Tarly not to whip a bunch of his troopers.

Seem, it truly sucks when your exhausted army is shifting at a snail's speed, and flogging the sluggish-shifting dudes does seem to be like the variety of point that would pace things up, but props to Jamie for urging his co-commander to at minimum give the men a stern chatting-to ahead of likely all "Fifty Shades of Grey" on them.

Later on, Jamie, the most morally medium Lannister, continues to get proper with his gods by making an attempt to chat Tarly's son Dickon out of his shell shock. His efforts are approximately undone by Bronn, who not only laughs at the dude's admittedly hilarious name but proceeds to mock his pampered upbringing with a properly-/poorly timed poop quip.

But the sellsword fast redeems himself simply because not 7 seconds later on...

eight. Dany goes for a dragon journey!

What very good is painstakingly raising 3 dragons from delivery if you might be likely to sit about and not journey them? To the delight of viewers and horselords alike, aspiring Queen Daenerys finally scratches the itch for the very first time since landing in Westeros.

Her very first spot? Straight at a bunch of unsuspecting Lannister troopers (cf. the higher than "FIREBALL!").

Mercifully, in the ensuing (epically just one-sided) carnage...

9. Bronn ditches his sack of gold to conserve Jamie's life...

"Um ... hm!" Photograph by Helen Sloan/HBO.

...when they and various hundred of their closest foot troopers find them selves under combined assault from the Dothraki, who apparently introduced a teleportation equipment over from the steppe (once more, I have to question — how quickly is time shifting on this show?) and the aforementioned fifty-foot hearth monster from the maw of hell. In an act of utter and completely surprising selflessness, when compelled to pick between his spilled gold and the life of his comrades, Bronn elects to leave the money funds powering and make a beeline for the scorpion in a vain attempt to spear Daenerys' just one-girl scaly air pressure out of the sky.

Indeed, for a supposedly honor-much less killing equipment, not only does Bronn sniff out the oncoming horde in the very first place and trade his pay for the prospect to conserve a pair dozen Ed Sheerans, he (or some dude who truly seems like him) also challenges involuntary immolation to push Jamie into the most conveniently adjacent river of all time, sparing him an premature demise-by-Drogon.

Give that gentleman his castle, previously.

P.S. — While it's not exactly "great," credit history to director Matt Shakman for furnishing tons of very long, lingering pictures of Lannister troopers screaming and staggering about on hearth, reminding us that war truly, truly sucks if you might be the minimal dude — even if you struggle for the baddies.

Random Acts of Niceness

Jon, who has not found Theon since all that, you know, things went down, demonstrates heroic restraint and refrains from smashing the ironborn lordling's confront in. Funny how so lots of of the nicest times on this show require just one character not killing a different character they emphatically ought to kill! Consider it in which you can get it, I guess.

Littlefinger guarantees to protect all of Catelyn Stark's children, which looks sweet right up until you try to remember it's a vow that conveniently leaves out a particular sibling/cousin/bastard who just transpires to be out of city supplying museum excursions at the second.

Many thanks to Stannis, Davos is now an insufferable grammar pedant who knows the difference between "much less" and "less." Stannis appreciates the congrats.

Whew! Plenty to address on the kindness defeat. Be part of me next week when, ideally, Jamie finally learns Dickon's name (assuming the golden-armed normal has not drowned), Sam finally will get to study the very long educational tome of his goals, and Tormund and his wildling brigade report absolutely nothing of be aware likely on at Eastwatch-by-the-Sea — phony alarm!

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[igsy-blog]

reTHG: The Hunger Games - Chapters Five and Six: Cinna

I have a lot of in-depth headcanon about Cinna.  Probably even more than Haymitch, a character I like more, but don’t spend a lot of time thinking about.  Haymitch’s personality is so external, and his history is fleshed out enough (by MJ) to understand his motivations.  Cinna’s are so wide open.  I have a story about Cinna and Portia I really want to write, so I won’t divulge ALL my Cinna theories here, just a few relatively pertinent ones.

When I first read this book, I was vaguely troubled by Katniss’ description of the Capitol citizens, because she’s very judgmental of them, in a superficial way.  To me, the described Capitolite modes of self-expression are not intrinsically offensive – certainly not intolerable – and judging people by the way they look strikes me as fussy and conservative.  I understand Katniss’ revulsion to them – she associates this audience, their lack of misery, their lack of compassion, their numbness to the tributes, with how differently they act and look from the district citizens.  I was more worried about Collins’ judgment, really.

But, going back to Katniss, since she does kind of think of people in terms of simple characteristics (red hair, a limp, gold eyeliner), she maybe trusts them more the simpler they are to her eye, because she can anchor them to a short list of easily-recognized attributes.  As if self-expression via a multitude of enhancements, or a wardrobe that always changes, hides too many things about the actual self.  By Mockingjay, however, you see that this was just one of the journeys that she needed to take.  Her field of allies keeps widening out until it includes these people who seem to her almost alien.  In THG, her allies are Peeta -  and Rue, who is from a similar district and reminds her strongly of her sister.  In CF, her allies include Finnick and Johanna – whom she must learn not to dislike and distrust – the morphlings – even Plutarch.  And in MJ, they include the tattooed Cressida and pierced Messalla, and, at last, the three members of her prep team, introduced in this chapter, who represent – more than Cinna, more than Effie – understanding and compassion for the Other, and reconciliation.  

Cinna is different; he is an exception to all her internal rules about the Capitol. Here we find out just a few basic facts about Cinna: he is a new stylist to the Games; he volunteered to be the stylist for District 12; he and his partner, Portia, have decided to transform them into memorable contestants – to play into the audience’s expectations for pageantry, and to give them even more: to elevate the idea of what it means to be a citizen from the coal district.

So, Cinna is young; possibly fairly recently finished with whatever training one might have to go through to be a stylist.  The first question is, why did he volunteer for 12 (and the bigger question might be when did he)?  Apparently, he was allowed to make the choice.  Despite being a new stylist, he tells Katniss he wasn’t stuck with District 12, but actually asked for it.  By this I gather that he was certainly well-connected to the Games.  Also – he seems to be pretty comfortable with Haymitch, as if they’ve known each other for a while.  I like to think that he had a close relative – maybe his mother or father – involved in the games previously, a mentor or an escort, and he hung around the back-stage part of the games for some time (a little more on this in a bit).  

I do like to think that he volunteered for Katniss, choosing District 12 on the day of the reaping.  Even if Haymitch wasn’t shouting out a coded message that they had found their spark for the revolution, Cinna could well have been impressed – as was the rest of the Capitol, we are told – by this unlikely volunteer.

Cinna seems technically far advanced over his fellow stylists, so I also think of him as well educated.  And he is a true artist.  This is so awesome.  I love, love, love the importance of design and art in this story.  I’d love to have the expertise to write more about the importance of semiotics in these books.  You can’t run an underground revolution with speeches, so of course you need artists to help you deliver your messages, in symbols and signs.  And then Peeta idevelops as an artist, too, in Catching Fire!)

And Cinna is a fashion designer – a perfect support character for a feminist story.  Clothes are such a perfect physical representation of the powerful/powerless role in which Katniss is forced to function.  She is made – unwittingly, sometimes – into a billboard, time and time again; each outfit sending a message, sometimes multiple messages to different audiences at once.  Except when she wears the simple outfit of home, she is constantly forced to wear clothes of other people’s choosing.  But at the same time, she feels – that paradoxic feeling we’ve maybe all felt at times – the power of an amazing outfit, the heady internal power and confidence that accompanies feeling beautiful on the outside.  Or the outfit that you finally dare to wear with confidence because it shouts out who you really are on the inside.

In this moment, because of Cinna’s work, something happens to Katniss during the tribute parade.  For a moment, isolated from the harsh reality of the arena, the audience falls in love with Katniss.  And she accepts their love.  In her conscious mind, this is framed in terms of strategy, and yet it’s also a bit heady:

“The pounding music, the cheers, the admiration work their way into my blood, and I can’t suppress my excitement.” (THG Chapter 6)

The reason I like to think of Cinna as having grown up around the games is that, as well as access, it would have given him all kinds of perspective different from that of typical Capitolites – such as having exposure to tributes and Victors early on.  But that’s just a theory.  Anyway, I feel certain he was involved in the Rebellion; and that his designs - and maybe he had a range of potential designs for different districts - were intended to empower his tributes on behalf of both sets of audiences - the Capitol one who would just see the flash and dazzle, and the District ones who would maybe see something a little more.

And then the final piece - linking the two tributes together.  Much as I would wish differently, there isn’t a whole lot we can say about Portia.  She’s never described, we have no indication of her age or how equal a partner she is with Cinna.  I wrote a lot about Portia in one of my fics and would really have liked to have had more to go on; but, due to the nature of the story, she had to stand in for Cinna, anyway, so she took on a lot of (what was in my head as) his backstory.  But I do like to think that she was very much aware and supportive of Cinna’s work for the Rebellion.  I think partnering up Cinna with someone outside of the Rebellion could have been very dangerous - that it was best for him to work with someone he trusted.  I just think this also gets to neatly reflect that - although his part in this aspect of it all is not really highlighted much - Peeta, by always either matching or complementary to Katniss, is also being used as a messenger.   

At the tribute parade, they are dressed exactly the same and although history mainly remembers the Girl on Fire, Katniss notes that Peeta’s name is also being called by the crowd.  Cinna has decided that the matching outfits and the spectacle of the flames is not enough.  He has Katniss and Peeta join hands on the chariot (“Just the perfect touch of rebellion,” Haymitch will note.)  Again, I don’t know how far back the Rebels’ plans go .… or who knew what, when about Peeta’s feelings for Katniss  … .  Cinna and Haymitch are right; to be in an alliance with your opponent is a touch rebellious.  To be in love with her, though, is revolutionary, and man would I love to know how much Cinna and Haymitch perceived this from the beginning ….