#first to fight in France for freedom

[paulpingminho]

[hjemne]

The French are so funny because instead of having art as a general category meaning a creation with beauty, they listened to Hegel about there only being 6 distinct categories of art, but then as the world develops people kept on going 'well THIS is artistic, but it's distinct from those other kinds of creative categories' and then adding new categories. Like, my guys, there is beauty to be found in all of mankind's creations. Give up on the number system. If you can get your head around the holy trinity being one god in three forms, you can also get your head around there just being ART despite its many forms. But they won't change because their govt and society are conservative and white supremacist and adding increasingly bizarre numbers of art forms to a Eurocentric and classical model is preferable to any form of fluidity and change in the culture

[sissa-arrows]

I stop paying attention to French politics for like 1h and I come back to a (white) representative getting suspended from the National Assembly for brandishing a Palestinian flag during the questions to the government (the government was answering to the question “how can you look at yourself on a mirror if you support the massacres in Gaza and refuse to sanction Israel?” Question asked by a white female representative.)

Sébastien Delogu was escorted out by security for brandishing the flag. Being applauded by his party some of them starting even singing the “To arms, citizens, Form your battalions, Let's March, let's march!” Of the French anthem (starting it there is not an accident). He said that he doesn’t care about any sanction/punishment he would get for it because France is on the wrong side and it’s a duty to stand with the oppressed. He went on to quote Fanon on Twitter. “We are nothing on earth if we are not first and foremost the slave of a cause, that of people and that of justice and freedom. » ending his tweet with “No justice, no peace !”

I came back to a white female representative (the one with the question, Alma Dufour) calling out Meyer Habib (the representative of “French Israelis”). A white male representative (David Guiraud) almost getting into a fist fight with Meyer Habib and calling him a pig. Both of them telling him they will make sure he face justice for supporting a genocide. Guiraud then told to the journalists that after seeing so much horrors there’s only anger left to fight against this genocide and that all French people should be ashamed.

For context these representatives are the equivalent of US congressmen.

And in 20 minutes there’s a protest in Paris for Palestine.

[verypersonalscreencaps]

"PREGNANT, IF I WANT, WHEN I WANT, HOW I WANT" FRANCE BECOMES FIRST COUNTRY TO EXPLICITLY ENSHRINE ABORTION RIGHTS IN CONSTITUTION The Washington Post | Published March 4, 2024 PARIS — With the endorsement of a specially convened session of lawmakers at Versailles, France on Monday became the first country in the world to explicitly enshrine abortion rights in its constitution — an effort galvanized by the rollback of protections in the United States. The amendment referring to abortion as a “guaranteed freedom” needed the approval of three-fifths of lawmakers — or 512 votes. The vote result on Monday evening was 780 in favor and 72 against. “We’re sending a message to all women: your body belongs to you and no one can decide for you,” Prime Minister Gabriel Attal told lawmakers assembled in Versailles. Thousands of Parisians gathered to watch the proceedings live on a giant television screen at Le Parvis des Droits de l’Homme — or “Human Rights Square” — in central Paris, with the Eiffel Tower looming dramatically over the scene. Before the political debate began, the television screen showed a montage of women’s rights campaigners around the world holding signs declaring, “My body is mine” and “My body, my choice.” The sound system blared Aretha Franklin’s “Respect.” Parisians driving by honked their horns. France decriminalized abortion in 1975; abortion is legal for any reason through the 14th week of pregnancy. This amendment won’t change any of that. But while other countries have inferred abortion rights protections from their constitutions, as the U.S. Supreme Court did in Roe v. Wade, France is the first to explicitly codify in its constitution that abortion rights are protected. France is not interpreting its constitution; it is changing its constitution. The outcome was “also a promise for all women who fight all over the world for the right to have autonomy over their bodies — in Argentina, in the United States, in Andorra, in Italy, in Hungary, in Poland,” said lawmaker Mathilde Panot, who had introduced the bill in the National Assembly. “This vote today tells them: your struggle is ours, this victory is yours.” People gather near the Eiffel Tower during the broadcast of the special session of Parliament, in Paris on Monday.

[redgoldsparks]

Breathe: Journeys to Healthy Binding is out in the world and there are so many people I'd like to thank. First, of course, my co-author Sarah Peitzmeier who emailed me out of the blue back in 2020 to ask if I would be interested in adapting some of her research into a short zine. This topic, of safe and accessible trans health care, has only grown more urgent since we first started this project. Thank you Kieran Todd, Frances Reed, Meaghan Ray Peters, and everyone who contributed their voices to Sarah's research. I'm eternally grateful to Emily Mitchell, my agent, who found this book such a good home! And I want to thank Andrew Karre, an extraordinarily generous editor, and Anna Booth, the book designer who made both the cover and interiors look so good. Thank you forever to @ashleyrguillory who colored this book twice in two different incarnations! Also thank you to Barnes and Nobles Santa Rosa for hosting my book launch event and helping turn it into a fundraiser for Positive Images! Thank you Drew Crawford for joining me in conversation about binding, health, gender euphoria, and the creative process. I am grateful to my family, who have supported me both as a queer person and an artist. And to my friends, so many of whom are queer, trans, authors, artists, activists; watching you make art and fight for justice and freedom, for harm reduction and healthcare and an end to genocide, gives me so much hope and strength. ~Maia

instagram / patreon / portfolio / etsy / my books

[simplykorra]

I think it's easy to forget just exactly what Ava went through. She was SEVEN years old and woke up in strange place, with cranky old nuns, only to find out she was paralyzed and that her mom had died. Not only that, but no other member of her family ever came for her. Nobody was looking for her, nobody wanted her and suddenly she's all alone and dealing with the loss of her mothre and her independence.

You'd think, oh well maybe she has a support system in the orphanage? Nope, they treat her like shit, like the burden she believes she is. As someone who has been in a wheelchair their whole life, let me tell you, feeling like a burden is an everyday thing. You’re not, and having people who remind you that you’re not and make you understand that you’re not is beautiful, but Ava didn’t have that. She had Sister Frances, who went out of her way to tell Ava she was worthless and I doubt anyone else there was much better.

So it's no wonder Ava was a sarcastic, snarky little shit to the nuns in the orphanage - they made her that way. Being bratty to them was the only thing she could do to feel some semblance of control.

Flash forward to Ava's death, where she was literally murdered because nobody cared and there was nowhere for her to go. Ava spent twelve years in a personal hell of being trapped in her own body, was then killed like someone taking out the garbage. Empty, alone and tossed aside.

So when she was revived by the halo, with her legs suddenly working and freedom to do whatever she wanted, of COURSE she wanted to be free.

That's the entirety of Ava's character arc - SHE WANTS TO LIVE! She hasn't been able to for so long she barely remembers how to do it.

It's not that easy, of course, the halo carries a ton of weight and Ava fights it and runs from it and resists it as much as she can, and who can blame her? She finally gets the chance to be alive, to be free and enjoy life and all these strangers (who are everywhere becuase Ava is completely alone in the world) are pushing and pulling her in every direction. She's constantly told that she doesn't deserve the halo. Doesn't deserve this chance.

Despite ALL of that, Ava's heart is strong and her passion for life overshadows all the darkness she's been dealt. She isn't just full of life, but love. She's spent years not having anyone to love her, but more than that, she's never been able to give anyone her love and I think that's very important to her. We see it so much as the show goes on. Her softness with Mother Superion when she finds her halo scar, and the way she connects with Mary, Camila being sweet to her, little things like that.

Then of course there's Bea.

Beatrice, who never sees Ava as someone that needs to be replaced, but as someone who can be taught, trained and shaped into what they need. Who sees that Ava, the human being, has value and that she's worth protecting. They connect and share and for the first time, Ava has someone who actually accepts her as a person. Not a burden or a vessel for the halo, but Ava Silva, the girl inside that's been so alone for so long.

I think that's why Ava is so bouncy with Bea, falls for her so easily, because Beatrice saw Ava's zest for life and her need for love and embraced it. Saw it as something worth fighting for, beyond the halo or duty, Beatrice liked HER. Probably the first person who felt that way since her mother was taken from her (outside of Diego, but he was so young it couldn't have been the same).

Anyway, this long winded post that probably doesn't make any sense is just my way of saying that I love Ava. I love her joy and her humor. I love that she has had so much pain dumped on her and still chooses to smile. Given the way she was treated and the power she was given, Ava could have been a villain. She could have carried a hatred for god or the world and everyone in it who forgot about her but she didn't. Instead, she found the life and love she desperately wanted and gave up everything to protect it.

[seulszn]

WHAT’S GOING ON IN HAITI 🇭🇹

Haiti is a country in the Caribbean and Latin America that has been exploited and oppressed by colonial powers and imperialist forces for centuries. Its people have suffered unimaginable horrors and atrocities. Haiti was the first Black republic in the world, and the second independent nation in the Americas and the first Latin American country It achieved its independence in 1804, after a successful slave revolt against France. Haiti's independence was a threat to the racist and capitalist system that dominated the world. It inspired other enslaved and oppressed people to fight for their freedom and dignity. Haiti was also punished for its independence by the colonial powers. It was forced to pay a huge indemnity to France, and faced trade embargoes, diplomatic isolation, and military interventions.

Haiti was also exploited by multinational corporations and NGOs, who profited from its cheap labor, natural resources, and humanitarian aid. They also imposed their agendas and policies on the Haitian people, undermining their sovereignty and democracy. Haiti was also devastated by natural disasters, such as earthquakes ( a earthquake they are still recovering from that happened in 2010 and then a earthquake that happened in 2021 that killed 1,419 people) hurricanes, and floods, which worsened its already dire situation. Haiti was also victimized by diseases, such as cholera, malaria, and COVID-19, which ravaged its population and health system. The diseases were often introduced or exacerbated by foreign actors, such as the UN peacekeepers who brought cholera to Haiti in 2010. Haiti was also marginalized and silenced by the mainstream media, which portrayed it as a hopeless and helpless case, ignoring its history, culture, and achievements. The media also spread misinformation and stereotypes, fueling racism and stigma.

Haiti was also betrayed and abandoned by its allies and neighbors, who turned a blind eye to its plight, or worse, contributed to its misery. The United States of America, in particular, has a long history of meddling and undermining Haiti's sovereignty and stability. Taking 500,000 dollars from Haitian banks and still collecting money. The United States of America has invaded, occupied, and intervened in Haiti numerous times, imposing its political and economic interests. It has also exploited Haiti's labor and resources, and blocked its development and trade. sugar refining, flour milling, and cement and textile manufacturing, clothing, scrap metal, vegetable oils, dates and cocoa are all things given to other countries by Haiti. The United States of America has also supported and funded the Core Group, a coalition of foreign powers that has interfered in Haiti's internal affairs, manipulating its elections, constitution, and government. The United States of America has also failed to protect the human rights and dignity of the Haitian people, both in Haiti and in the US. It has deported and detained thousands of Haitian refugees and asylum seekers, and discriminated and criminalized them.

Here are a list of countries who agreed to help the United States and Canada evade Haiti:

Germany

France (the same country that we had to pay just to be free)

Benin

Jamaica

Kenya

Yes I am Haitian my dad side is from Haiti. My fathers family moved up here to Seattle because Haitian was going through a small silent genocide and have been since they have been free from France in 1804, France took my countries money and told them that they have to pay reparations just for existing and they had to pay France just to be free from the French. And then America jumps onto the bandwagon and decides to take billions of dollars from Haiti. Haiti was once the richest country but became the most poorest because of ignorance.

My people are being killed everyday just for speaking out against their government, my people are being killed because nobody was their for them when the 2010 and the 2021 earthquake happened because “Haiti is a bad country and helping them won’t do anything” and they are still recovering from that to this very day. Families are being displaced, the violence is getting worse, innocent people are dying and are fighting trying to stay alive, women and children are being r$ped and kidnapped. I have family that live in Haiti that I lost all contact with because they are fighting everyday, and who knows if they are even alive.

Here are some important links to help you get a better understanding on what’s going on in Haiti and stuff to donate to

Donations:

Haitian Health foundation

Partner in Health: Haiti

Hope For Haiti

Haiti Aid

Haiti Children

Haiti Twitter Link for More Donations. P2 P3

Videos

FYI a lot of these videos are from last year but a lot of them speak really well on what is always going on and why they are going through it

Haiti Debt

What is Happening in Haiti

Haiti and the Rice

Listen Part 2

Free These countries as well

What we want to free in Haiti

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE TAKE THE TIME OUT OF YOUR DAY TO AT LEAST LOOK AT THESE LINKS. For the sake of My dad and the sake of my family I want to see them happy they wanna go home but won’t be able to until Haiti is free I will update this if I need to and please Like, comment, reblog anything is appreciated

[satoshi-mochida]

Genso Manege coming west for Switch, PC

From Gematsu

PQube will release MAGES.-developed otome visual novel Genso Manege, also known as Rever d’un Manege, for Switch and PC via Steam in the west, the publisher announced. A release date was not announced.

Genso Manege first launched for Switch on January 30, 2020 in Japan under MAGES.’ LOVE & ART brand, followed by iOS on October 9, 2020.

Here is an overview of the game, via PQube:

About

I will awaken the magic within you, and you will free us from the Reve… Set in a wondrously evocative re-imagining of France, a beautifully crafted otome visual novel following Emma, orphaned at a young age, as she fights to uncover her forgotten memories. A witch who lost her powers when young and now living a quiet life, Emma is led by the memento her father left her and finds herself swept away with the arrival of a travelling amusement park in town. Filled with magic and dreams but holding a dark secret, Emma feels an immediate connection to the wondrous La Foire du Reve. She discovers that hidden underneath the lustrous fairy-like charm of the park, its employees are trapped, bound to the amusement park and only the magic within Emma can free them. But it has been years since Emma has been able to access her magic, and she must dig deep within herself, navigating painful repressed memories, in order to recover it. Working at the Reve as she unravels the tangled threads of her forgotten past, Emma forges bonds with the employees of the amusement park. A cast of wonderful characters; the dazzling director Hugo, the stoic accountant Serge, the Tsundere Performer Crier, the kind-hearted rabbit Lyon, the Reclusive Mechanic Luciole, and Emma’s special childhood friend, Arnaud. Each character with their own crosses to bear, stories of tragedy and longing woven together with desperation, Emma builds deepening bonds of friendship, and maybe more, as she works to unlock her magic and their freedom. With its gorgeously subdued artwork, radiating warmth and romance, Genso Manege is a dream-like otome fantasy with an outstanding visual power that conjures an unforgettably bittersweet tale.

Key Features

Breathtaking Romance – Six different male leads to sweep you off your feet, follow their character routes and uncover their secrets.

A Thriving Town – Near the French border, this culturally rich location sets the scene for an unforgettably magical tale.

Dazzling Pastel World – Expertly crafted characters and artwork paint a dreamy picture of romance and magic, making this a visual novel in every sense.

Magical Mini Games – Utilize the Eveil System, an enjoyable game mechanic, woven into the story to help you recover Emma’s magical abilities.

Voiced Characters – Unique characters brought to life by stunning voice acting allow you to experience first-hand the different personalities trapped in the Reve.

An Unforgettable Tale – Sweet and touching yet tinged with sadness, Genso Manege weaves a tale which is as happy as it is bittersweet.

Watch the announcement trailer below. View the first English screenshots at the gallery.

Announce Trailer

[steddieasitgoes]

written for @eddiemonth Day 16 Prompt: Library & Curious a/n: This one might be my favorite one I've written yet! It's set at the start of season 2! read on ao3 | link to my ao3 Edde Month series

Eddie’s well aware there are a lot of stupid classes that Hawkins High requires its student body to take. Algebra (there’s no reason for the alphabet and numbers to mix, except in very rare cases, like D20 type cases), Physics (what more do they need to know beyond what goes up, must come down), French (as if anyone from Bumfuck, Indiana could afford to go to France — okay maybe some can, but Eddie’s certainly not one of them that’s for damn sure), goddamn Physical Education (only way he’s running is if someone is chasing him, thank you very much). But the stupidest class of all has to be Study Hall.

An entire class dedicated to doing work for other classes? What kind of idiot dreamed this one up? Instead of letting them out an hour early, some guy, probably in a suit because all bad ideas come from guys in suits, decided to hold them hostage to do more work. It’s ridiculous. Not to mention, it’s one of the few times, outside of lunch, that the grades get to mingle with each other. Sure, lots of studying goes on in between freshmen drooling over seniors and sophomores paying juniors for last year’s test answers.

The only time Eddie actually liked study hall was during his sophomore year when he had it first period and could do all the homework he neglected to do the night before. It’s the only time it actually made sense. And the only time, thus far in his high school career, that Eddie actually turned in more assignments than not.

But now, he’s a senior stuck with study hall as his last class of the day, and he wants to die. Okay, maybe not die die. But die in the sense that he’d rather risk bodily harm escaping the hellscape that is the Hawkins library during 6th-period study hall than sit here. His freedom is so close — nothing but a few windows and a brick wall separating him from the brisk late-October air. Eddie can’t risk it, though. He’s already reached his detention quote for the semester, and if he wants to keep using the drama room for Hellfire meetings, he has to sit in this damn library seat and at least pretend to get some work done.

Which, honestly, isn’t the worst thing in the world. At least it gives him time to work on his latest Hellfire campaign without the prying eyes of Jeff and Gareth or the unnecessary questions from Freak. Sure, he’s supposed to be working on an essay for English Lit, but he doesn’t think Ms. Washington is going to appreciate his take on Frankenstein, so he’ll worry about coming up with a dumbed-down idea another day.

Besides, even focusing on his new campaign is hard enough with the idle chatter going on that the librarian is either pretending not to hear or is too tired of shushing them for.

It’s the usual sort of study hall gossip. Who’s screwing who. What teacher is going to pull a pop quiz tomorrow and become the biggest asshole at Hawkins High. The occasional nervous whispers of the geeks actually studying.

It’s all mindless chatter that drifts into the background when the topic of Tina’s Halloween Bash comes up. That’s the real gossip of the night. Who got the keg, and what other alcohol is being provided? Who is going to be the best dressed? What couple is going to get caught screwing in Tina’s parent’s bed? Are there going to be any good fights or breakups?

Eddie rolls his eyes. Jesus H. Christ, can’t anybody be original around here?

Unfortunately for Eddie, there’s no escaping Tina’s Halloween Bash since he’s been summoned to provide some extra party favors, as the “cool” kids like to call them. Eddie, never one to back down from being a thorn in a “cool” kid’s side, always responds with the same spiel: “Drugs. What you want is drugs, right? Or should I go raid Melvald’s for you?”

Whatever. Money is money, and Eddie can take all the money he can get his grubby hands on if he wants to get out of this shit-hole town when he graduates in June.

Glancing at his watch, he tips his head back in a silent groan of annoyance. Only ten minutes have passed since he slunk into the uncomfortable library seat. Christ, why does time move so slow, sometimes? Eddie tries to focus on his Hellfire notes in front of him, and he’s successful for all of thirty seconds before something catches his attention in the corner of his eye.

Nancy Wheeler and the former Hawkins High King, Steve Harrington, are whispering to each other by the pencil sharpener. He rolls his eyes. Of course, no one else in the library is paying them any mind. And why would they? Harrington fell from grace last year, and Wheeler isn’t exactly the “look at me” type. Still, Eddie finds them morbidly interesting in a way he finds all the tragic heterosexual couples in this stupid small town interesting.

Before Eddie has a chance to fall deeper into his cynical outlook on this stupid Hawkins High couple, Wheeler starts tugging Harrington toward the private study room in the back of the library. It’s a move that shocks Eddie to his core. Don’t get him wrong, he’s heard all bout Harrington’s little trysts in that very room over the years (thank you gossip mill for the very cheap porn), but he never would have assumed Wheeler would be the one tugging him toward it.

It’s that detour from who she’s supposed to be that has Eddie peeling himself off his chair.  At least, that’s what he tells himself as he saunters toward the stack of books in the back of the library closest to the private room. If he hears moaning or anything remotely sounding like they’re hooking up, he promises himself he’ll leave. He’s a freak in many ways, but a creep, he is not.

Glancing over his shoulder, Eddie can see the two of them in the small room. They’re close but not close enough to be doing anything beyond talking. From the look on her face, doing anything of that sort isn’t even on her mind.

Interesting.

Eddie creeps closer.

“Barbara. It’s like nobody cares. Except her parents. And now they’re selling their house.”

“Nance—“

Wheeler rants about something, but he misses most of it. Only catching the very end.

“It’s destroying them.”

No shit, Eddie thinks with another dramatic eye roll. Of course, losing their only daughter is destroying them. The Hollands are one of the few families around here that actually have a heart. At least they did before Barbara tore it from them by running away. Or so the story goes. Eddie’s always been a bit suspicious of Holland’s disappearance. He knows the runaway type, and a straight-A girl, with a well-off family who loves them like Holland had doesn’t fit the bill.

“I know. Okay? I get it,” Harrington says, glancing away from Wheeler to peer out the window. Eddie grabs the first book on the shelf and buries his face in it. It must fool Steve because he starts talking again. “But listen, there’s nothing we can do about it.”

“Yeah, we could tell them the truth.”

“This isn’t some game, Nance. If they found out that we told any…” He trails off again, and Eddie reaches for another book.

Eyes peering over the pages, Eddie watches as he shuts the blinds before presumably returning to Wheeler. With the blinds shut and their voices even lower, he can no longer hear what they’re talking about. Which is a damn shame because Eddie’s never been more curious about what the disgraced King was about to say than right now. 

+ + +

“M’telling you guys. It was weird,” Eddie says through a mouthful of Doritos.

They’re hanging out in Gareth’s garage. Jeff sits in the old recliner while Gareth stays perched behind his drum kit. Freak is running late, as usual, though Eddie’s not too pressed about it today. Too distracted filling the boys in on what he overheard in the library.

“I don’t know man; it sounds like she was just concerned about her best friend,” Gareth says, lightly tapping his drumsticks on his snare.

“Yeah, those two were inseparable, remember.”

“All the more reason why it’s weird she’s been mopping around lately. Obviously, she knows where Holland is. Or what happened to her.”

“Not this again,” Jeff groans, sinking further into the recliner.

“Yes, this again,” Eddie retorts, throwing Jeff an intense glare. “This town is weird as shit. If the Byers kid can come back from the dead—“

“I thought they proved it wasn’t actually Byers they found in the quarry,” The Freak says, finally joining them in the garage. 

“They did, but Eddie still thinks—“

“Shut up!” Eddie shouts, taking a moment to throw a Dorito at all of their heads. “Let me level with you for a second, okay? Yeah, sure, they said that kid wasn’t Byers, but they never said whose kid it was, which is weird. And then right after that, they “find” Holland’s car? It’s too coincidental, man. You know a story isn’t right when it’s too easy.”

“This isn’t one of our campaigns,” Gareth sighs. “Sometimes things really are just accidental coincidences.”

Eddie shakes his head, running his Dorito-stained fingers over his face. “Nah, man, m’not buying it this time. Harrington and Wheeler know what really happened to Holland. And I think they’re responsible for it.”

“So, what?” Jeff asks, leaning forward so his elbows rest on his knees. “You think they made her disappear or something.”

“Maybe Harrington got Holland knocked up, and his family gave her money to leave.”

“See!” Eddie shouts, slapping his hands together as he jumps on the balls of his feet. “Freak gets it! That’s the kind of thing I’m talking about.”

“Okay, but if Harrington knocked Wheeler’s best friend up, why would she still be dating him?” Jeff asks.

“And why would they both be hiding her from her parents?” Gareth adds.

Okay, so maybe these are valid questions, but Eddie doesn’t appreciate the doubts they’re throwing at him. “I don’t appreciate you doubting me,” he says plainly. “You’ll see. M’gonna figure this out.”

“Right, just like you figured out that Ms. O’Donnell was actually failing you for a reason and not because she had some vendetta against Wayne for not dating her.”

“Hey. That was a good theory, okay. One I still think is true, by the way.” Turning his back on the boys, Eddie crosses the room and tosses the empty bag of Doritos into the trash bin before heading towards his badly parked van.

“I thought we were practicing!” Gareth shouts after him.

“Just let him go,” Jeff sighs. “He’s impossible to work with when he’s in conspiracy theory mode.”

Eddie flips Jeff off, climbing into the van. “I’ll see you boys tomorrow.”

+ + +

Eddie’s been at Tina’s party for an entire hour and a half, and there’s still no sign of Harrington or Wheeler. Not that he’s actively searching them out, of course. He’s just had some downtime in between upselling Hagan for the world’s shittiest pot he could get his hands on, and explaining to some cheerleader how Special K hits differently if you snort it. Plus, his supply ran out about ten minutes ago, so he’s just buying time before someone notices him lingering and kicks his ass to the curb.

He’s about to save himself and whatever jock gets thrown his way the trouble, when he spots Harrington and Wheeler arguing by the punch bowl. He’s too far away to hear what they’re saying, but he has a sneaking suspicion it has less to do with the conversation he heard in the library and more to do with Wheeler’s drunken state. Case in point: the red liquid she just spilled all over her blouse.

Chasing after her, Harrington cuts through the crowd and makes his way toward one of the bathrooms. Eddie waits a minute before following them down the crowded hallway. Thankfully, no one is in line for this bathroom — still too early in the night for the alcohol to have hit their bladders — so he’s first in the unofficial bathroom line. Leaning casually against the wall, Eddie angles his ear closer to the door so he can hear inside.

It takes a minute for his ears to tune out the music and nonsense chatter, but when they do, he can clearly hear Wheeler slurring her words.

“You’re pretending like everything’s okay. You know, like we didn’t… like we didn’t kill Barb.”

Eddie’s never experienced shock before, at least, he doesn’t think he has; the early days of his life are a little hazy around the edges, but that’s the only word he thinks fits what he’s experiencing right now. Part of him wants to shove his ear closer to the door to continue listing, while the other part of him wants to run for the hills, screaming in victory. And if he’s straight with himself, maybe screaming in fear a little, too. Harrington and Wheeler murderers? Who knew?

He knew, that’s who!

He knew there was something shady going on between those two.

Pressing his ear closer, he can hear Wheeler slurring more words, though he’s not exactly sure what she’s saying. Honestly, he doesn’t really care what she’s saying. He’s listening for Harrington’s response right now. What does the mighty King have to say about the bomb she’s just dropped?

“This is bullshit,” she slurs.

“Like we’re in love?” Steve asks.

Huh, clearly, Eddie missed a step or two in his shocked state.  He’s not exactly sure how the conversation strayed from them killing Holland to their, clearly, toxic relationship, but the fact it did is all the proof Eddie needs. If they didn’t kill her, Harrington would have been vehemently denying her claim. And yet, he sounds like a kicked puppy dog right now because she doesn’t love him.

Join the club, Harrington.

The doorknob starts to jiggle, and Eddie bolts. It’s not that he’s afraid about coming face-to-face with the two who apparently killed Holland. It’s just that, well, he needs a minute to think about the information he’s just learned.

+ + +

With Gareth and Freak both busy supervising their siblings around Hawkins and Jeff on candy duty for his family’s house, Eddie has no one to share the good bad news with. RIP Holland and all that, but he’s sitting on some serious dirt right now.

The good part of Eddie’s brain knows he should head straight for the police station. Pull good ole’ Chief Hopper aside and gloat about how he did his job for him. But Eddie’s spent enough time at the stuffy station to know no one is going to believe him especially not against Harrington and Wheeler. He’d have better luck marching in there and turning himself in for her murder. Not that he’s going to do that.

He supposes he could tell Wayne about it, but he doesn’t need to be dragging his uncle into any more of his messes. And since Eddie has no proof beyond overhearing a drunken confession, a mess it’ll surely turn into.

So, he opts for the third option and heads out to Skull Rock to do some thinking.

Maybe Freak is right, and it was some sort of jealous rage brought on by a Holland-Harrington pregnancy. Or maybe Holland saw something she shouldn’t have; the possibilities are endless, and Eddie’s imagination is limitless.

Eventually, he circles back to what he’s supposed to do with this information. Should he turn them in? Maybe not Wheeler; she seems like she’s experienced enough guilt as it and the girl has a bright future or whatever it is the teachers are always talking about. Harrington, though? Harrington, he should turn in, right? I mean, he didn’t even seem phased when Wheeler brought up the murder. Eddie’s watched enough horror movies to know that’s psychopath behavior right there. Besides, it would be nice to see the King behind bars. But then again, he hasn’t been the King in a while. And Harrington’s never really done anything to Eddie beyond standing idle while Hagan threw slurs at him. But he’s not hanging out with Hagan anymore, so maybe he should cut him some slack.

Though they did murder someone.

Jesus H. Christ.

Maybe this is why they say curiosity killed the cat — Eddie’s head is throbbing. He’s about to take another hit from his joint when he hears leaves crunching in the distance.

Shit.

Someone’s coming.

Snubbing out his joint against the rock, Eddie tries his best to make it seem like he’s just here, escaping the busy Halloween night. Which, like, he definitely is, but he can’t be too safe. Especially not when there are two teenage murderers on the loose.

“She thinks m’bullshit? She’s bullshit! Bullshit.”

The voice is unmistakable.

Jesus H. Christ could tonight get any weirder.

Eddie’s only escape is to run deeper into the forest, and he’s not about to do that so he makes himself comfortable on top of Skull Rock like a fucking sitting duck. Searching the pockets of his vest, he yanks out a pack of cigarettes and his lighter. Neither of which he was looking for. Of course, he left his pocket knife in his van. Stupid. So stupid!

There’s a moment of silence before Harrington emerges from the clearing. The moon is bright above them, making Steve’s tear-stained cheeks and red-rimmed eyes glow in the otherwise dark forest.

Maybe he is feeling guilty after all.

“Ah, fuck,” Harrington groans, stumbling to the ground.

Eddie watches as he rolls around for a moment, struggling to find his footing. If Eddie were a mean person, he might let Harrington suffer. But something about his behavior reminds him of a wounded animal, and Eddie’s always had a soft spot for bruised and broken things.

“Shit, Harrington, you okay?” Eddie asks, jumping down.

Eddie’s boots crunch against the leaves, startling Harrington. He manages to pull himself into a seated position and brandishes a near empty beer bottle in Eddie’s direction. “Stay back!”

“Woah, man,” Eddie yelps, hands raised in surrender in front of him. “Don’t kill me.”

“Oh, s’you,” Steve says, slumping against the tree behind him. He tosses the beer bottle aside and runs both his hands over his face. “Jesus. Why does everyone think I would kill s-someone?”

“Uh,” Eddie stutters, glancing around. Now’s his chance to make a break for it. Put those hours of physical education to good use and sprint to the van before Harrington has a chance to make him his next victim. But there’s something in Steve’s sad eyes and dejected voice that makes Eddie stay. “‘Cause you have killed someone before?”

“Man, what the hell are you talking about?” Harrington snaps, fumbling to get out of his jacket. “I’ve n-never killed anyone.”

“So, you didn’t kill Barbara Holland, then?”

“No! Jesus, ‘course not. Barb was… Barb was nice. She was good. Like Nance. Better than Nance, maybe. I don’t know,” Harrington whines, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Barb she’s… yeah, man, she’s dead. But I didn’t have anything to do with that. N-not in the way you think I did, at least.”

Harrington’s not making a lot of sense, which only spurs Eddie’s curiosity on more. Closing the distance between them, Eddie hops to a squat in front of him. “But you did have something to do with what happened to her?”

“Shit, man,” Harrington groans, words slurring more more. “S’complicated, okay. I can’t talk about it with you or her parents or anyone. Or else they’ll come for me or Nance or our families and then we’ll all be toast like Barb. And that… that thing that came out of the Byers’ wall.”

Complicated? Jesus H. Christ, Eddie’s never heard anything more complicated than the jumble of words that just left Harrington’s mouth. He can feel his heart racing in his chest, the realization that they’re alone in the woods talking about something someone doesn’t want Harrington talking about.

“What?” Eddie says more to himself than to Steve. “Harrington, what thing in the Byers wall? You’re not making any sense!”

“The thing. You know, the… the,” Steve hiccups. “The thing we can’t talk ‘bout, else they’ll come for us next.”

Someone will come for him and his family if he reveals what happened to Barb? And the thing in the Byers wall? He wants to ask who would come. What would happen? Is he being blackmailed? There are so many questions dancing on the tip of his tongue, but none of them win the war.

“Harrington, man,” Eddie says, shaking his head. “Are you in trouble? Do you, like, need help or something?”

Finally, freeing himself from his jacket, Harrington lifts his head and looks up. There’s a moment where Eddie’s life flashes before his eyes, but then the sad replay of his life is interrupted by Harrington’s hand on his cheek. A dopey-looking grin on his face as he squints up at Eddie.

“You have pretty eyes, M-m-munson. Anyone ever tell you that?” Steve slurs before promptly passing out against the tree.

What the hell has Eddie gotten himself into?

[workingclasshistory]

On this day, 11 July 1918, Jewish Ukrainian anarchist mechanic Simón Radowitzky escaped from the Ushuaia concentration camp on the island of Tierra del Fuego, Argentina (content note: sexual violence). Radowitzky was serving an indefinite sentence for assassinating the chief of Buenos Aires police, who had ordered the Red Week massacre of workers during a May Day demonstration in 1909. Previously, Radowitzky had become a spokesperson for prisoners, and had led hunger strikes and protests. In retaliation, prison authorities first tried to torture him with sleep deprivation, then the governor and three guards raped him in 1918. This enraged the anarchist movement in Buenos Aires, which began a campaign for his freedom, and songs about him were sung in workers' meetings and assemblies around the city. In addition to the campaign, some anarchists decided to try to break out of prison, and used a smuggler's ship to rescue him. But after 23 days he was recaptured by the Chilean navy and returned to prison. He was eventually released in 1930, then deported to Uruguay. He was then deported from Uruguay for his role in the struggle against the dictator, so he travelled to Spain to join the fight against general Francisco Franco in the civil war. He survived the war, only to be interned in a concentration camp in France, after which he moved to Mexico, where he spent the remainder of his life, working in a toy factory and remaining active in the revolutionary movement. More information, sources and map: https://stories.workingclasshistory.com/article/8308/simon-radowitzky-escapes https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=660013872838498&set=a.602588028581083&type=3

[dwellordream]

“…In the Early Middle Ages, most French Jewish communities had settled in the southeast, on the shores of the Mediterranean. Although there were few Jews north of the Alps, they were the focus of restrictive laws that limited their freedom of movement and their ability to interact with Christians.

For instance, a mid-fifth-century council held in Troyes, northern France, prohibited Jews from going out of their houses to have any form of communication with Christians during Eastertide – a time celebrating the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, therefore a particularly tense period for the Jewish community who were accused of his murder.

A century later, other councils banned the appointment of Jews to any public office that would put them in a position of superiority over a Christian. Jews were no longer allowed to work on Sundays and were to refrain from eating with Christians. Intermarriage between Jews and Christians was forbidden in early Roman law codes, a prohibition early medieval law codes reiterated.

At that time, the fragile state of Christianity – still a relatively new religion in Europe – fueled the clergy’s anxieties. Clergymen were afraid Jewish people would “pollute” the minds of Christians and turn them away from the Church. They advocated relentlessly for their conversion to Christianity. This project was finally successful in the seventh century when the Merovingian king Dagobert called for the baptism or expulsion of the Jews of his kingdom. More than a century of political unrest followed.

Dagobert’s rule, during which Jewish communities grew again in size. By the end of the year 800, Charlemagne became emperor. Charles’ attitude towards the Jews was ambivalent but more open than before. Carolingian capitularies reiterated certain older restrictions, and the chancery levied heavy taxes on the Jews. Because of these taxes, Jews constituted a reliable source of income for the chancery. Charlemagne, therefore, granted the Jewish communities privileges safeguarding their autonomy and their rights to practice their religion.

For instance, Jews responded to their own laws for all matters concerning “low justice,” such as marriage and business contracts, small offences, and inter-community disputes. Murders, however, were to be tried by the Christian authorities. Until the First Crusade, the lives of medieval French Jews were relatively peaceful – only two episodes of violence were reported in the early eleventh century. But things were about to change.

Set in the context of religious zeal, the Crusades stirred the pot of hate. Pope Urban II came to France in 1095 and preached the First Crusade with tremendous success. The message was clear: Christians should take up arms to fight the enemies of God and Christianity. While the pope clearly laid out that the point was to free Jerusalem, some interpreted it differently. According to chronicler Guibert of Nogent (1055–1124), a group of men from Rouen, Normandy, had decided to leave for the East, but they began questioning their purpose:

“We want to attack the enemies of God in the east after traveling great distances, while before our eyes are the Jews, of all races God’s greatest enemy.”

Pondering their options, the men took their weapons, captured many Jews, and killed them, adults and children alike, only sparing those who accepted conversion. Then they left for Jerusalem.

The Crusades fueled dozens and dozens of pogroms across Western Europe. In the late eleventh and early twelfth century, the pressure to convert was immense, and the risks of refusing to convert were even greater. A mid-twelfth-century Christian chronicler, Richard of Poitiers, acknowledged the great sufferings of the Jewish people at the outset of the early crusades, of which he underlined the unfairness. But the anti-Jewish sentiment in the Christian communities only grew stronger.

In the aftermath of the crusades, European Jews were at the center of rumours propelled by distrust and suspicion. In Blois, France, in 1171, Christians accused members of the Jewish community of having murdered Christian children during religious rituals. Called the “blood libel,” these accusations first appeared in England and were attested across Western Europe from the twelfth century to the modern era. In Blois, the blood libel accusations lead to the dramatic death of more than 30 members of the community. The survivors’ estates were confiscated. Ten years later, King Philippe Augustus expelled the Jews from the royal domain.

Anti-Semitism received the Church’s support in the early thirteenth century at the Fourth Lateran Council (1215). The council invited kings and rulers to force the Jews of their kingdoms to wear a distinctive symbol on their clothes or a specific hat that would make them immediately recognizable by Christians. In 1269, Louis IX of France made the symbols mandatory.

The thirteenth century also witnessed the forced segregation of Jews to specific areas. Traditionally, Jews lived together in neighbourhoods often nicknamed juiveries (Jewries). Paris counted four juiveries at that time. When Saint Louis made the distinctive symbols mandatory, he also forced the Jews to live in Jewries. Forced residence in Jewries signalled the birth of “ghettos,” neighbourhoods reserved for the Jewish population of a given town.

In the aftermath of the fourteenth-century plague, many Jewries were equipped with gates locked at night to prevent people from entering or exiting the district. Jewries started to turn into ghettos. The point of the ghettos, some rulers argued, was to protect the Jews from the violence Christians perpetrated against them. But ghettos also functioned as traps and participated in marginalizing the French Jewish communities.

The first decades of the fourteenth century were marked by an economic crisis and recurring food shortages. Anti-Semitism was on the rise again. In 1319 and 1321, Parisians – Christians – manifested their hatred toward Jews by publicly burning the Talmud. The plague signalled a new era of pogroms and violence against the Jews, who became the “scapegoats” of the crisis. The chronicler Jean de Venette witnessed and described the consequences of the plague for the Jews:

Some said that the pestilence was the result of infected air and water… and as a result of this idea, many began suddenly and passionately to accuse the Jews of infecting the wells, fouling the air, and generally being the source of the plague. Everyone rose up against them most cruelly. In Germany and elsewhere – wherever Jews lived – they were massacred and slaughtered by Christian crowds and many thousands were burned indiscriminately.

As Venette states, Christians accused the Jews of having poisoned wells to spread the disease. In Toulon, southern France, 40 Jews were killed by fire right after the epidemic started. In Strasbourg, northeastern France, in 1349, hundreds of Jews who lived in the city’s ghetto were locked up in a building by angry Christians and set on fire. Similar massacres happened in the pontifical city of Avignon, and in Narbonne, Carcassonne, and Toulouse, to cite but a few southern French examples.

Pope Clement VI (1291–1352) issued a bull forbidding the killing of Jews, but to no avail. Distrust and hatred were so intense that the city of Strasbourg, in the Rhine valley, expelled all Jews from its jurisdiction and forbade them from entering the city. This law was only removed from the city’s policies during the French Revolution in the late 1780s.

In many ways, medieval anti-Judaism paved the way for modern anti-Semitism. From accusations of greed and avarice to the blood libel, from the wearing of distinctive symbols to mandatory residence in ghettos, the Middle Ages witnessed the development of a series of stereotypes and a system of repression that had repercussions far into the twentieth century and the modern day.

But the Jewish communities of medieval France did not always live in fear. They enjoyed times of peace and independence and were, usually, relatively integrated into urban communities. Their role in the intellectual renaissance of the twelfth century is especially remarkable and well-marked in historiography.”

- Lucie Laumonier, “Hostility Against the Jews in Medieval France”

[athanasius-symposium-of-writings]

A Night In Nice

Chapter One

Based on this ask and made into a separate post due to being two parts

Rated Explicit (for later on)

Ao3

Chapter Two

When you asked him to run away with you, you meant it wholeheartedly. If he didn't want to stay, you weren't going to force him to stay. You only want him to escape this place and start anew.

No one has ever looked out for him, maybe his father but that felt obligated rather than willing. Yet, on that fateful day, when the voice in his mind killed every miner and nearly killed him too, he took you up on that offer.

Now here he is in France, specifically in a town called Nice, with a woman he finds himself in love with. Unbelievable given his past, he thought he could never love anything outside of his greed and freedom. Yet, here he is fiddling with an engagement ring he saved up for.

Crazy. God, if this a dream and he laying dying in that damn cave then let him stay there slowly dying rather than wake up from this dream.

He quickly hides the ring in his pants when he hears you enter the house.

The home has a common layout, simple decorations, and a few personal touches, cozy and ours as you told him.

Norton works for an old man at his farm helping out and such. Good pay and no digging for coal. You work at the local bakery with a farmer's daughter.

“You're home early!” Cheerful and smiling brightly, Everything okay?” Going to the kitchen to set down the bag of bread in your arms.

“Uh, yeah,” Assisting you and looking at the bread now on the table, “Free bread day or something?”

“Heh, no! I made these for us! I know you like toasted bread for breakfast so…” You show him the misshapen bread, “I tried.”

You are… Kind to put it mildly.

When you first met him, it was after a brawl in which a few of the older miners jumped him for a single damn coin he got from payroll. He lost his coin, sure, but he made every single last one of them earn it. He was badly hurt and was carried into the infirmary with another guy.

At the time, you were the only female and a nurse on that mining site. The doctor left after not being paid, so technically you were the nurse and the head doctor. It wasn't easy for you, that is for sure given half these guys were scum.

Still, you did your job. With a smile too, for those deserving.

You fixed his nose, patched up his cuts, gave him something for the pain, and even got him something other than bread and turning milk. Soup for the soul, you called it, something you made because the chef there was a joke. It was mostly vegetables but it was something.

He was cold to you back then even when he was often your patient because of all the fighting. Norton didn't want friends, didn't care about anyone but himself, and he certainly didn't care to have some woman being nice to him. Bad enough you touched him when doing checkups and patching him up.

However, as much as he was an asshole, he wasn't fucking like these others. He ain't no saint but wasn't one to think just because you are the only woman there, means you are for the picking. He recalls that tussle (the man was drunk so it wasn't much of a fight), how grateful you were.

So grateful you baked him something as a thank you, a treat that was too sweet for him. He still ate it even though he complained about the sweetness.

You were, are, the brightest light in his life.

And it was dark… Becoming darker when the voice in his head started getting louder and louder.

The darkness nearly swallowed him whole.

Until you found him buried alive and willing to die.

God, he swears, the tears from your eyes seemed to never stop as you called out to him. Never did want to see that again.

“Norton, try this!” Preparing your ingredients to make a special pie you learned today! A shepherd's pie that is supposedly very filling and good! You seasoned the meat the night before and after setting up, you just finished cooking the meat.

You like this. Being a housewife. Though you are not married to him, you gave him the housewife treatment. Cooking, cleaning, cuddles (more like you being his weighted blanket).

Norton felt loved, knew he was loved, yet the darkness lurks in the shadows when he is alone with his thoughts as you sleep by his side.

While he sits in the kitchen simply enjoying your presence and the way you talk about anything and everything under the sun, he is playing with the ring in his pocket.

“Oh, hm, it needs more garlic.”

“It's fine.”

“No, no, sir-no-taste-outside-of-salt-and-pepper. Trust me on this.”

He shakes his head chuckling at you.

“She will leave you like all the others.”

He frowns as the voice mocks him.

“Poor flower thinks a domestic life in some other country will save you. We both know this is temporary.”

No, he likes this life!

“Being poor? You barely could afford her a ring! If we found that gold—”

“Norton?”

“Huh?” Not aware you are in front of him, “Need something?”

“You spaced out, hun.” Reaching to touch him though he shook his head. “If you need space, dinner will be done in an hour.” You understand, you show patience.

He stands up, tall and bulky, taking your hands and placing them on his face. His eyes close as feels your warmth. A gentle ‘thank you’ slips from his lips. You tell often he has no need to thank you but he does it anyway.

Rubbing circles on his cheeks before going back to cooking, you didn't want to pull away. You never do. He leaves the kitchen and you return to your task.

The sound of the bedroom door creaking open and then closing.

The best ways he found to stay in the present are to touch the things in the house, somethings things that you have made in the past attempts of crafting, or to smell the one perfume you love. A reminder of the good things he has.

Clean shirts, new shoes, even his better breathing, the window he can open at any time to gaze out into the back of the house. The outside cats that lurk around the house (his fault truthfully he could not stand seeing the little guys starving) playing with the blanket they stole from the laundry line and you did not have the heart to take back.

It is a perfect life, a fairytale ending to a nightmare he was living, yet the voice is bitter and cruel with words that plague him when you are not in sight.

… If only that was the case completely…

Recently, you have been the topic the moment Norton decided he wants to marry you. Sure it is pretty unseemly to be living with a woman and not married to her. Sure he has not had sex with you but you gave him so much of your patience. The love you gave him so freely.

The ring he takes out of his pocket to examine weighs heavy, he is trying to think of how to bring it up— To ask you. The words simply escape him, his chest hurts and his throat closes.

Shit, this looks so easy in those plays he saw once as a kid. Broke into the theater to pickpocket some people, all to get his father some medicine.

The past.

All in the past.

The knock on the door drew away the shadows encroaching ready to ensnare him.

“Dinner is ready.”

[toxinellebug]

Shadybug/ClawNoir and the Resistance headcanons

Obviously Adrien is the type who knows how to put on the smooth model persona for his fans… but in front of the girl he legit has feelings for, he becomes a blushing mess who is at a loss for words because what if he says the wrong thing and she thinks he’s an idiot?!

Reformed Ladybug taking reformed Paw Noir by the hand as they went through the portal back to their universe turned his brain to mush just like when Adrien took Marinette’s hand during the protest in the Mega Leech episode of s4 and her brain went bye-bye.

Marienette remains Oblivious to Adrien’s crush because he is so awkward and quiet around her out of the mask, and in the mask he’s an idiot who switches between a guy trying and failing not to fall into his old habits of mocking her and calling her Cockroach, then smacking himself for it, and some weirdo flirting with cat-puns and the cheesiest one-liners she’s ever heard, while inwardly he curses himself for being stupid because that is no way to impress a girl! (Daring feats of heroism is!)

She wants to try and work with him but this bi-polar personality of his really grates on her nerves sometimes.

suddenly being treated like a damsel in distress is also annoying… But at the same time, having a partner who cares for her safety and goes out of his stupid way to try to keep her from harm actually feels kinda nice and maybe makes her feel a little special and she can’t hate him for that.

And okay yeah, blood red roses with thorny stems ARE her favorite flower, but she can’t let it go to that cat’s head!

The first time that she genuinely praises him for doing something right/not screwing up, he actually purrs and she can’t help it- she bursts out laughing and secretly admits to herself that ok; this blonde dork is lowkey adorable.

Any awkward tackling out of danger, rolling on the ground and then ending up on top of the other moments lead to him blushing because oh-crap-we’re-touching-this-is-both-awesome-and-terrifying, and her glaring at him with murderous rage.

But the first time she actually hugs him out of relief/concern, his brain decides he could die at that moment with no regrets and she has to yank on his cat ears to get that goofy grin off his face because they have a job to do, darn it! (Stop being cute! She refuses to catch feelings so stop making things difficult!)

The new “only use powers once then you have a time limit” thing sucks, but at least their bodies no longer hurt.

They are on the run immediately because it becomes obvious they have switched sides due to her use of her Miraculous cure that Shadybug never used because the Supreme always warned them about discretion and things don’t magically get fixed by a loveliness of ladybugs.

Because remember, the Supreme does not want the world to know of the existence of magic.

BUT IT ALSO BRINGS ATTENTION TO A NEW ALY!

Someone who KNOWS The Supreme’s true identity and about all the powers of the Miraculous. Someone who lost hope and went into hiding a long time ago.

Someone who, upon seeing not only Miracles happening in Paris, but the healing power of the Ladybug as well, realizes it is time to return to France and dare to hope to regain the freedom that had been lost to the world since the war.

Marrianne.

Fu’s old love.

She returns to Paris and seeks out others who wish to join a resistance to fight against the control of The Supreme.

People like Mylene, a man who dreamed of going by the name of Jagged Stone, Mr. Ramier, Alex, and she finds Nino and Alya, who introduce her to Betterfly, Ladybug, and Paw Noir.

[anotherhumaninthisworld]

Can you please give an explainer on the friendship between Robespierre and Desmoulins and what their dynamic together was like? I know they were at school together as kids but were they really as close as movies usually portray them as? Was Robespierre better friends with Saint-Just?

Bonus: What's the story behind Desmoulins using Roussaeau against Robespierre?

Merci!

That’s an interesting question considering how often their relationship, as you say, has gotten dramatized.

The good days of the relationship

Both Robespierre and Desmoulins started attending the boarding school of Louis-le-Grand at the age of eleven, the former in 1769, the latter in 1771. We don’t know when exactly they first ran into and/or got to know each other, nor exactly just how close or not they actually grew to be while at college. To me, the following two statements do however suggest that their relationship back then was at least better than ”mere acquaintances”:

Oh, my dear Robespierre! It is not long since we were sighing together over our country’s servitude, since, drawing from the same sources the sacred love of liberty and equality, amid so many professors whose lessons only taught us to detest our land, we were complaining there was no professor of cabals who would teach us to free it, when we were regretting the tribune of Rome and Athens, how far was I from thinking that the day of a constitution a thousand times more beautiful was so close to shining on us, and that you, in the tribune of the French people, would be one of the firmest ramparts of the nascent freedom! Desmoulins in number 15 of Révolutions de France et de Brabant (March 8 1790)

I knew Camille in college, he was my study companion, he was then a talented young man without mature judgement. Since then Camille has developed the most ardent love of the Republic;... one must not look only at one point in his moral life, one must take the whole of it; one must examine him as a whole. Robespierre defends Camille at the Jacobins December 14 1793 (only time he ever admitted to a college friendship with anyone at all)

Liévin-Bonaventure Proyart, who worked at the college up until 1778, would give the following description of the relationship Desmoulins and Robespierre had back then in his La vie et les crimes de Robespierre: surnommé le Tyran… (1795):

In his lower classes, and however young he had been, [Robespierre] was very rarely seen sharing the amusements and games which most please childhood. His cold and misanthropic heart never knew those outpourings of lively and frank joy, natural signs of candor and ingenuity. Of all the noisy and endlessly varied amusements which make the public recreation of a college such an animated scene, none pleased him, and he preferred dark reveries and solitary walks. If someone, at these moments, approached him, he received him with a cold gravity; and answered him at first only in monofyllables. If he took it upon himself to praise his style and his scholastic productions, Robespierre did him the favor of striking up a conversation with him. But, however little one ventured to thwart him, one instantly became the object of some harsh and virulent trait. Camille Desmoulins, who lived at the same college, and whose impetuous and untidy character did not adapt well to the philosophical arrogance of Robespierre, had from time to time grapples with him, but from then on as since, the champions did not fight on equal terms. Always more reflective than the opponent who provoked him, and more master of his moves, Robespierre, watching the moment, pounced on him with all the advantage that cold prudence has over temerity.

Fellow students Beffroy de Reigny and Stanislas Fréron would in the latter half of the 1790’s similarly make the contradiction of stating both that the young Robespierre didn’t have any friends at school and that the latter and Desmoulins had been college comrades (Beffroy writing that Robespierre was ”his (Desmoulins’) comrade and mine” and Fréron that Desmoulins was Robespierre’s ”childhood comrade”). Though given the time these texts were written, I think this might should be read more as these Robespierre-dislikers wanting to have the cake and eat it too (ergo they both want Robespierre to have killed his childhood friend and to have been so repulsive he had no friends at all) than as full blown evidence Camille was Robespierre’s ”only friend,” as the latter puts it in La Terreur et la Vertu.

Finally, Marcellin Matton, when writing a short biography over Camille in 1834, stated the following regarding his college days:

It was [at Louis-le Grand] that Camille got to know Maximilien Robespierre. They differed in character, but both had this passion which always distinguishes men of genius — love for liberty and for independence. The fully republican education one gave to young people born to live under a monarchy contributed a lot to their character. Without stop and in all forms, one presented them with history of Gracchus, Brutus, Cato. Camille was always together with Robespierre and their conversation most often revolved around the constitution of the Roman Republic.

While this certainly sounds like it could just be romantizing, we do know Matton was friends with Camille’s mother-in-law and sister-in-law, and it it’s therefore possible it’s them (who in their turn would have gotten it from Camille) who have given him this account of a close college relationship.

It’s sometimes argued that Robespierre and Desmoulins can’t have been friends while at school since they were never in the same grade, and it therefore would have been really hard for them to socialize. And indeed, when looking over the school regulations that were in motion during their time there, that does indeed come off as quite a hard thing to do — students were to stick to their ”quarter” both in dormitories, during classes, study hall, on Sunday outings, and at table (at first I thought maybe these ”quarters” weren’t neccessarily made up of students who all came from the same grade, but this other piece seems to rule out that possibility). This leaves the thirty-minute recesses as the only places where students from different quarters would have gotten a chance to interact with one another (bc they all seemed to have recess at the same time according to the schedule…). I do however think Robespierre and Desmoulins’ own testimonies weigh heavier than this. Desmoulins would also go on to admit college friendships with other students we know for a fact can never have been in the same grade as him.

In 1774 and 1775, both Robespierre and Desmoulins’ names featured on the list of students that had been awarded annual prizes for their hard labors, which means that they, according to the regulations, got presented before the bureau of administration by the principal ”to there receive praise and rewards due to their work and the success of their studies” together.

After graduating (Robespierre in 1781, Desmoulins in 1785) the two seemingly lost sight of one another, at least we don’t have any evidence they corresponded or in other ways kept up contact. Two pieces do however show us they did not forget about each other entirely. The first is a letter dated spring 1786 Camille adressed to the aforementioned Beffroy de Reigny, who in January the same year had openly thanked his ”former study comrade Robespiere [sic]” for sending him two of his works as a gift.

It was noticed lately, as a misfortune attached to the house where we were brought up together, that none of those who had distinguished themselves there fulfilled in the world the hopes that he had first given, that you alone seem happier right now, and we rejoice in your many subscribers. Although the subscribers are your dear and beloved cousins, we can clearly see that you have not forgotten the rest of the family, nor lost sight of the mountain where we were the first to applaud you. The advantageous manner in which you have spoken of M. Robespiere [sic] has charmed us all; up to now, M. Jéhanne has missed only one opportunity to provide you with the occasion of doing him justice as well. The joy with which you gave well deserved praise to a comrade reproached me for my conduct towards you, and obliges me to retract. 

In 1793, Robespierre did in his turn admit to before the revolution have read a poem (that according to Camille had been written in 1787), and felt proud once he realized who the author was:

Remember that at a time when the monarchy was best established on its foundations, Camille, a simple individual, without support, without advocate or patron, a lawyer without a cause on the fourth floor, dared to put into verse the proudest principles of the most determined Republican. Then, in the depths of my province, I learned with secret pleasure that the author was one of my college comrades.

Interestingly, Robespierre’s younger brother Augustin started studying law at Louis-le-Grand in 1784, one year before Camille graduated from said program, although neither would claim to have known the other while at college.

On May 8 1789, Desmoulins authored a letter to his father, telling him about the opening of the Estates General at Versailles three days earlier. Lamenting the fact he himself didn’t get elected for it, he writes: ”one of my comrades has been more fortunate than I, it’s de Robespierre, deputy from Arras. He has been wise enough to plead in his own province.” The fact Camille was able to recognize Robespierre eight years after their separation (and care about it enough to write it down), could be read as yet another sign their college relationship had at least mattered somewhat, especially since this letter is from before Robespierre had made any kind of name for himself politically. How exactly Camille found out Robespierre had been elected (did he recognize his face in a crowd, accidentally run into him or just see it written down somewhere?) is however unknown.

After the ceremony, Camille did however head back to Paris, while Robespierre would remain at Versailles up until October 1789. On July 23 1789, the latter writes to his friend Antoine Buissart that he has been shown the stormed Bastille, suggesting he’s taken a short trip to the capital, but there’s no evidence he saw Desmoulins during it, or even that he knew he had been the one inciting the storming at this point.

In the beginning of September, Camille released Discours de la Lanterne aux Parisiens, the first of his works which he mentioned Robespierre in:

I would at least congratulate Mr. de Robespierre for opposing with all his strength the release of the Duke of Vauguyon. Mr. Glaizen opposed it in an even more eloquent manner. Member of the criminal committee, he resigned immediately. The speaks of conviction. Honor to MM. Glaizen and Robespierre!

Later the same month, Camille went back to Versaille after having been invited by Mirabeau, and the day after his arrival (September 20 1789) he could write to tell his father: ”If you hear bad things said about me, console yourself with the memory of the testimony that MM. de Mirabeau, Target, M. de Robespierre, Gleizal and more than two hundred deputies gave me.” Camille stayed with Mirabeau for two weeks before returning to Paris, but there’s no proof he saw Robespierre any more times during his stay.

When Robespierre too went to Paris soon thereafter, he settled in an apartment on Rue de Saintonge, today a 45 minute walk away from Camille’s erstwhile home on Rue de Tournon 19. Despite finally living in the same city again, it’s not until March 6 1790 I’ve discovered something more concreate tying the two together. It’s a note from Desmoulins to Robespierre, found listed in Mémoires de l’Académie des sciences, agriculture, commerce, belles-lettres et arts du département de la Somme (1907) as one of many Desmoulins related text published in Journal de Vervins during the summer of 1884. Unfortunately, I can’t find this journal online anywhere, so I don’t know what the note was about.

In November 1789, Camille founded his very first journal — Révolutions de France et de Brabant — that would run until the fall of 1791. Searching for the term ”Robespierre” in the seven digitalized volumes of the journal, I find Camille talking about him around 85 times. The first time is in number 4 (released December 19 1789), where he makes sure to underline the fact that he and Robespierre had been ”college comrades”:

…If my dear college comrade, Robespierre, had said the same thing to the viscount, he wouldn’t have been able to respond like Saint Peter.

This was the first in a long series of homages Desmoulins’ journal would pay Robespierre. Throughout the years, he called him among other things ”The last of Romans and my hero” (number 41, September 6 1790), ”So pure, so inflexible, the peak of patriotism” (number 46, October 11 1790), ”the living commentary on the Declaration of Rights” (number 65, February 21 1791) and ”immutable” (number 76, May 9 1791). Desmoulins was also second in giving Robespierre the famous nickname ”the Incorruptible.” Not even Robespierre’s erstwhile boyfriend brother in arms Pétion, where Camille still admitted it was impossible to speak of one without thinking about the other (number 55, December 13 1790) got the same almost saintlike treatment. While Robespierre got praised by several journals positive to the revolution, I don’t think it would be that unfair to say Desmoulins was his cheerleader number one during at least its first few years. Several times, Robespierre also sent Camille speeches and letters of his which the latter willfully inserted into his journal (1, 2, 3).

I’ve found only one time Révolutions de France et de Brabant had something negative to say about Robespierre, and it is in number 27, released on May 31 1790, and conviently enough, the next piece of information regarding Desmoulins and Robespierre’s relationship that I know of:

I wasted my time preaching the republic. The republic and democracy are now down, and it is unfortunate for an author to shout in the desert and to write pages as worthless, as little listened to, as the motions of J. F. Maury. Since I despair of overcoming insurmountable currents, tied for six months to the bench of rowers, perhaps I would do well to regain the shore, and throw away a useless oar. I should leave Garnery, continue writing Révolutions de France et de Brabant at a discount, without attempting with my librarian, the unequal struggle of Tournon with Prudhomme. But I hear Robespierre call my discouragement corruption, and exclaim that I am sold like the others to the King's wife and to the ministerial party. I must undeceive my dear Robespierre, I must give new proofs of my incorruptibility every week, show that I am as proud a republican as he is, and that when the number of patriots, which is diminishing prodigiously every day, would be reduced to one or two citizens, it is I who would like to remain the last of the Jacobins. […] How is it that I was accused of being a sold-out journalist, and that I saw Robespierre and L... among my slanderers, when it is so difficult to find proofs of corruption against me? […] So I could not have my neck wrapped in a handkerchief and complain of esquinancia without being reproached for argyrancia as well. Ungrateful Robespierre!

A week later, June 7 1790, Robespierre authors the following letter to Desmoulins, in response to something the latter has written about him in the number of his journal released right after the one quoted above:

Monsieur, I read the following passage regarding the decree from May 22 on the right of war and peace in your (votre) latest number of Révolutions de France et de Brabant: On Saturday, May 22, the little dauphin applauded a decree Mirabeau had put forward with a good sense way beyond his young years. The people applauded too. It led back in triumph Barnave, Péthion [sic], Lameth, d'Aiguillon, Duport, and all the illustrious Jacobins; imagiening itself having just won a great victory, and these deputies had the weakness to maintain it in an error which they enjoyed. Robespierre was more frank, he said to the multitude which surrounded him and stunned them with his beating statement: ”Well! gentlemen, what are you congratulating yourself on? the decree is detestable, detestable to the last bit; let's let the brat clap his hands at his window, he knows better than us what he's doing.” I must, monsieur, point out the error in which you have been led on the fact which concerns me in this passage. I told the National Assembly my opinion on the principles and consequences of the decree which regulates the exercise of the right of peace and war; but there I stopped. I did not make the statement you cite in the Tuileries garden; I didn’t even speak to the crowd of citizens who gathered in my path as I crossed it. I believe I must disavow this fact: 1, because it is not true; 2, because, however disposed I am to always display in the National Assembly the character of frankness which should distinguish the representatives of the nation, I am not unaware that elsewhere there is a certain reserve which suits them. I hope, monsieur, that you will be good enough to make my statement public through your newspaper, especially since your magnanimous zeal for the cause of liberty will make it a law for you not to leave bad citizens the slightest of pretext to calumniate the energy of the defenders of the people. De Robespierre.

There’s certainly not much in this letter implying Robespierre is friends with Desmoulins, or even knows him as anything more than a journalist… All readers’ letters published within Révolutions de France et de Brabant up to this point have however used vouvoiement and been about as formal, so it’s possible Robespierre (who, according to his conserved correspondence, doesn’t use a particulary warm tone with anyone around this period save his arragois friend Antoine Buissart) is trying to mimick them. It’s also not impossible his tone had something to do with what Desmoulins had written about him a week earlier. Desmoulins did however not let himself become influenced by it when publishing and responding to the letter in the the next number (June 14 1790) of his journal. He even chose to adress Robespierre in tutoiment, even though Robespierre addressed him with vouvoiement, and despite having adressed every other correspondent to the journal with vouvoiement up until this point.

If I insure this errata, my dear Robespierre, it is only to show your (ton) signature to my fellow journalists, and teach them not to cripple a name that patriotism has illustrated. There is in your letter a dignity, a seanatorial gravity which wounds college friendship. You’re rightly proud of the laticlave of deputy to the National Assembly. This noble pride pleases me, and what annoys me even more is that not everyone feels their dignity as you do? But you should at least greet a former comrade with a slight nod. I love you none the less, because you are faithful to principles, even if you are not so faithful to friendship. However, why demand this retraction from me? When I would have slightly altered the truth in the anecdote I told, since this fact is honorable for you, since I doubtless said what you thought, if not your expressed words, instead of disavowing the journalists so curtly, you had to content yourself with saying like the cousin, in the charming comedy of the supposed dead man: ”Ah! Monsieur, vous brodez!” You are not one of those weak men of whom J.J Rousseau speaks, who do not want anyone to be able to repeat what they think, and who only speak the truth in their negligee or in their dressing gown, and not in the National Assembly or in the Tuileries.

According to Brissot, the incident did however end up making both college comrades rather piqued against one another. In his memoirs (1793), he wrote the following about it:

I reread this letter to Camille, which chance put before my eyes at this moment, and of which Robespierre himself had brought me a copy to print so that it would have more publicity. It is dated June 8 [sic] 1790 […] Doesn't everything in this letter, on which I can't help but dwell yet, bear the character of a vague uneasiness, of a singular timidity? I remember on this occasion Robespierre with his fears and his scruples which he could not dissimulate. Desmoulins' thoughtlessness alarmed him; he didn't know what to think of it. Was this young man paid to write such follies, and thus compromise the friends of reason and liberty? The deputy's response to the journalist was dignified, proud; it was indeed the style of a patriot. Royalism? what clumsiness! […] Before inserting this complaint in my diary, I warned Camille, whose susceptibility I knew. His answer was made, he left it to me; but I thought I was agreeable to him by publishing neither this answer nor the complaint of which it was the object. He seemed to me strongly piqued against Robespierre. Was it in this tone that a college friend had written to him? What had this rose-watered Brutus to blame, and what power was he so afraid of displeasing? However, Cassius did not want to anger Brutus. Desmoulins always sought to stick to celebrities, to Danton as to Mirabeau, to Linguet as to Robespierre; he would have sought out Marat, had that wolf been able to live with someone in society. Moreover, Robespierre's letter, like his signature, struck his mind, and his answer smelt a bit of taunting.

If the relationship got damaged, it was however not enough to stop Robespierre from saving Camille after an arrest warrant had been issued against him during the session of the National Assembly held on August 2 1790:

M. Malouet: …Is Camille Desmoulins innovative? He will justify himself. Is he guilty? I will be the accuser of him and of all those who take up his defense. Let him justify himself, if he dares. (A voice rises from the stands: ”Yes, I dare.” A part of the surprised assembly rises; the rumor spreads in the assembly that it is M. Camille Desmoulins who has spoken; the president gives the order to arrest the individual who uttered these words). N…: I ask that we deliberate beforehand on this arrest. M. Robespierre: I believe that the provisional order given by the President was indispensable; but must you confuse imprudence and inconsideration with crime? He heard himself accused of a crime against the Nation, it is difficult for a sensitive man to remain silent. It cannot be supposed that he intended to disrespect the Legislative Body. Humanity agrees with justice, pleads in its favour. I ask for his release, and that we move on to the agenda. The president annonces that M. Camille Desmoulins has escaped and can’t be arrested. The Assembly pass onto the order of the day.

Desmoulins was grateful Robespierre had stepped in, and in number 38 (August 16 1790) of his journal, he described the incident in the following way:

My dear Robespierre did not abandon me at this moment. By condemning me at first he conciliated all minds, and then brought them back with great art by developing this motion: if it is someone other than M. Desmoulins who raised his voice, this breach of assembly wheat must be punished; if it is him; it is difficult for an accused who does not feel guilty not to accept the challenge of his accuser. I ask for his release. Robespierre was applauded.

When Fréron (who we know was on friendly terms with at least Camille) described the very same incident in his journal l’Orateur du Peuple, he did refer to Robespierre as ”his (Camille’s) friend” so perhaps their relationship had indeed gotten better since Robespierre’s impersonal letter…

Three numbers later (September 6 1790) he writes about having given Robespierre a book written by abbot Jean-Joseph Rive:

O most learned and most patriotic of abbots! I read your letters, in which you always start out angry with me, and in which you end up smothering me with patriotic semens, and I gave your dear Robespierre your 700 pages in-80. But when do expect us to find the time to read your little novel?

Pierre Villiers, who in his Souvenirs d’un déporté (1802) claimed to have served as Robespierre’s secretary April-November 1790, wrote that the latter during this period ”thought the highest (il a fait le plus grand cas) of Camille Desmoulins. He's going too fast, Robespierre said to me, he'll break his neck; Paris wasn't made in a day, it takes more than a day to undo.”

On December 11 1790, Camille was given permission to marry Lucile Duplessis. Two weeks later, December 27, Robespierre, alongside Pétion, Brissot, Mercier, Sillery, Danton, Duport du Tertre, Barnave, Viefville des Essarts, Charles Lameth, Alexandre Lameth, Mirabeau, Andrieu and Deviefville, signed the couple’s wedding contract (1, 2). Two days after that, the wedding ceremony was held in Église Saint-Sulpice. Writing to his father about it, Camille could report that the witnesses this time had been ”Péthion [sic] and Robespierre, the elite of the National Assembly, M. de Sillery, who wanted to be there, and my two collegues Brissot de Warville and Mercier, the elite among the journalists.” The priest presiding over the ceremony was Denis Bérardier, who from 1778 to 1787 had been Camille and Robespierre’s college principal, after which he had been elected to represent the clergy at the Estates general. In the previously cited letter to his father, Camille writes that Bérardier during the ceremony held a speech that moved both him, Lucile and all of the witnesses to tears. An anonymous anecdote from 1792 similarily claims Camille began to cry out of joy during the ceremony, only this time Robespierre, instead of crying along with him, responded: ”don’t cry, you hypocrite!” It was however dismissed as apocryphal by Desmoulins’ latest biographer. After the ceremony, Camille reports that groom, bride, the witnesses and Bérardier all went over to his place to have dinner together with Lucile’s parents and sister. 

A little more than a month after the wedding, Robespierre, impatient to see a speech of his printed in Révolutions de France et de Brabant, sent the following letter to Camille. This is the first time in his conserved correspondence where he doesn’t use vouvoiement, and it won’t be until February 1793 that he does so again (though I don’t have any appreciation on whether adressing someone in third-person is less formal or not):

Paris, February 14 1791 I point out to Monsieur Camille Demoulins [sic] that neither the beautiful eyes nor the fine qualities of the charming Lucile are reasons for not announcing my work on the national guard which has been given to him and of which I send him a copy if necessary. At this moment there is no object more pressing or more important than the organization of the National Guards. At least that is what the citizens of Marseilles think, of whom I am here attaching a decree relating to my speech. I beg Camille not to mislead himself and to try to also send me back the letters from Avignon and the replies which I gave him. Robespierre

Camille obliged, printing the speech a week later in number 65 (February 21 1791) of his journal. It happened to be Discours sur l’organisation des gardes nationales, in which Robespierre becomes the first person ever to use the three words ”liberté, égalité, fraternité” as a slogan. But it was Camille who in July 1790 had been the first to bring the three words together as a formula. Robespierre and Desmoulins can therefore be said to hold the shared responsibility for the invention of what today is France’s national motto.

Five days after Camille had published Robespierre’s speech, February 26, Madame Chalabre wrote to the latter that ”The patriot Camille, in his last speech, paints with a charming naturalness, a truly original precision, the character of your talents. One would think that the genius of the good and unfortunate Jean-Jacques inspired him; it is of such a delicate touch; he shed so many tears reading this passage! Good Camille, you deserve the happiness which I hope you will enjoy with your lovely companion.” A week later, March 3, Sillery writes to Camille that ”Madame de Sillery is coming to dine at my house with Pétion and Robespierre, I dare to ask your lovable and beautiful wife to too do me this honor. […] Come, my dear Camille, if you have ever found yourself in a pure and exact democracy, it will be eight o’clock on Sunday when I hope to embrace you.”

In number 79 (June 4 1791) of his journal, Camille praises the ”simplicity” of Robespierre ”going by foot from his home on rue Saintonge to the National Assembly and dining for 30 sols,” implying they are on good enough terms for him to know those details about him. A few weeks later, June 21, Paris woke up to the discovery that the royal family had disappeared from the capital during the night. In number 82 (June 27 1791) of his journal, Camille would describe in detail what he had been up to during this day:

I left [Lafayette] hoping that maybe the immense career that the King's flight had opened to his ambition had brought him back to the popular party, and arrived at the Jacobins, striving to believe in his demonstrations of friendship and patriotism, and to fill myself with this persuasion, which, despite my efforts, flowed from my mind through a thousand memories, as through a thousand outlets. The only man who has my full confidence, Robespierre, had the floor. See here a speech full of truths of which I haven’t lost a single one, and tremble: [he then transcribes a speech Robespierre holds on the flight of the royal family] How shall I express this abandon, this accent of patriotism and indignation with which he pronounced it! He was listened to with that religious attention from which we collect the last words of the dying. It was, in fact, like his testament that he came to deposit in the archives of the club. I did not hear this speech with as much composure as I report at this moment, where the arrest of the former King has changed the face of affairs. I was moved to tears in more than one place, and when this excellent citizen, in the middle of his speech, spoke of the certainty of paying with his head for the truths he had just pronounced, I cried out: we will all die before you!

Apparently no one ever taught Camille to be careful with what you wish for.

In the same number, Desmoulins also describes how, the next day, he and several others brought a woman who had information to give on the escape attempt to the Jacobin club, in the hopes that her testimony would get Robespierre to denounce Lafayette and Bailly. Once arrived, they talk to him and Buzot, who both quickly become convinced of the high credibility of the witness, but are taken aback by the measures proposed to be taken. ”We will be,” they said, ”pushed back from the tribune, referred to the research committee, and our accusation will be entered in this mortuary register of denunciations.” After a while Pétion shows up and definitely discourages Robespierre, who, according to Camille, ”at first was quite disposed to take away the reputation of Bailly and La Fayette via assault.”

The escape attempt resulted in the demonstration and shootings on Champ de Mars on July 17 1791. On the evening of the same day as these events, we find Desmoulins and Robespierre at the Jacobin Club, both speaking of what had just happened. Shortly thereafter Camille went incognito for a while, hiding out at Lucile’s parents’ country house at Bourg-la-Reine until finally resurfacing in Paris again in early September. In the meantime, Robespierre had changed address and gone to live with the Duplay family on Rue Saint-Honoré 398, today a 35 minute walk from Rue du Théâtre 1 (today Rue de l’Odeon 28) where Camille and Lucile had moved shortly after their wedding. In her old days, Élisabeth Duplay authored a list over the people who most commonly would frequent her family’s house during the revolution.

The Lamenths and Pétion in the early days, quite rarely Legendre, Merlin de Thionville and Fouché, often Taschereau, Desmoulins and Teault, always Lebas, Saint-Just, David, Couthon and Buonarotti.

However, judging by an anecdote told by the same Élisabeth, Desmoulins’ visits went from being frequent to rare after a certain incident (that I would guess happened in 1793 considering Élisabeth still places his overall visits under the ”often” section):

One day Camille familiarly enters the Duplay house; Robespierre was absent. He starts a conversation with the youngest of the carpenter's daughters; as he retires, Camille hands her a book he had under his arm. ”Elizabeth,” he said to her, ”do me the service of holding onto this work; I will come back for it.” No sooner had Desmoulins left than the young girl curiously half-opened the book entrusted to her custody: what was her confusion, seeing paintings of revolting obscenity pass under her fingers. She blushes: the book falls. All the rest of the day Elizabeth was silent and troubled; Maximilian noticed it; drawing her aside. "What's the matter with you," he asked her, "you look so worried to me?" The young girl lowered her head, and as an answer went to fetch the book with the odious engravings which had offended her sight. Maximilien opened the volume and turned pale. "Who gave you this?" he asked in a voice shaking with anger. The girl frankly told him what had happened. "It’s fine," Robespierre went on, "don't talk about what you've just told me to anyone: I'll make it my business. Don't be sad anymore. I'll let Camille know. It is not what enters involuntarily through the eyes that defiles chastity: it is the evil thoughts that one has in the heart.” He admonished his friend severely, and from that day on, visits from Camille Desmoulins became very rare.

In a diary entry entry from June 1792, Lucile seemingly confirms the connection she and her husband had with Robespierre’s host family when she writes ”I went with C(amille) and little Duplay (most likely Élisabeth’s little brother Jacques-Maurice) to an old madwoman’s.”

On September 30 1791, the National Assembly was shut down and Robespierre left Paris for Arras, where he arrived on October 14. He was back in the capital again on November 28. A little more than two weeks later, December 16, Brissot, held his first speech in favor of going to war. As known, Robespierre opposed this, holding his first speech against the idea just two days later. Desmoulins quickly joined his side, holding a similar speech on December 25. When Robespierre held his third big speech on the subject, on January 11, Desmoulins, who listened to the reading, was enthusiastic and the next day he wrote the following letter to the ”patriots of Millau” (cited in Camille et Lucile Desmoulins: un Rêve de République):

At the moment I am still enthusiastic. This speech will be reread in all sections, in all clubs and in all patriots' houses; everywhere one will admire and especially love the author, but what would have happened had you heard him speak yourself! Those who were his college comrades, and even those who last year were his colleagues in the National Assembly, have not recognized Robespierre for some time. From a man of spirit, he became eliquent, and now he is sublime at intervals. It seems that he grows by one foot every month, as it is true that the home of talent is the heart. When, two years ago, I presented him, in my journal, as a Cato, I was far from foreseeing that he would never rise to the height of the talent of Demosthenes.

A month later, Desmoulins also aimed a blow against Brissot with the release of the pampleth Jean Pierre Brissot démasqué. While said pampleth definitely outlined who Camille considered his enemies, it also made clear who were his champions, with Robespierre, who’s name got mentioned nine times throughout, taking up the forefront:

This true patriot (Rœderer) has not forgiven me, him and his cabal, for loving Robespierre, my college friend, venerable, great in my eyes, although it has been said that there was no great man for his valet-de-chambre, nor for his college friend and the witness of his youth.

In a letter written shortly thereafter to François Suleau, another one of their former college comrades, Desmoulins claimed that ”[Robespierre] sees me as invulnurable after the proof of incorruptibility that I produced in my latest writing to Brissot.” Apropos of Desmoulins still seeing Suleau, a firm royalist, he added: ”I cannot blame my friend Robespierre when he tells me that he would run away from my house on seeing a notable from Coblentz (Suleau) enter.” 

War was nevertheless declared on April 20 1792. The very same day, Camille and Fréron, who had both had to quit their journals in the aftermath of the massacre on Champ de Mars, signed a contract for creating a new one — La Tribune des Patriotes. The first number was meant to be released on May 7, but the following day, their publisher Charles Frobert Patris told Camille he had refused to print it, on the charge of it being ”a libel.” Camille reported this to the Jacobin club the very same day, and the following session Patris came forward to explain himself. Things did however not go the way he’d planned, and in a pampleth released shortly afterwards, Patris wrote the following regarding the session:

How come you (Robespierre) tolerated that the vile informer (Camille), to whom I was answering, seeing the club cover with long applause the hard truths that I was beginning to tell him, left his place to go sit down behind you, pulled you by the tailcoat and spoke to you in a low voice and with an air of intelligence! Didn't you have to feel that such intimacy would favor him, and turn to my prejudice?

Soon thereafter, La Tribune des Patriotes could finally be released. This work too was in part meant to protect and advocate for Robespierre, starting already in the first number:

O my dear Robespierre, I gave you this name (the Incorruptible) three years ago! Let people re-read my writings: at the time of my highest admiration for the Mirabeaus, the Lafayettes, the Lameths, and so many others, I always set you apart, I always placed your probity, character and soul above all; and I have seen that the public, while learning from my writings, has hitherto confirmed my judgments, six months or a year after I had made them. Since degenerate friends of truth come to the aid of the impotence of our means to defray the cost of this journal, Fréron and I will not abandon you in the breach, in the midst of a cloud of enemies. The efforts of all these false patriots relentless today - against you alone, we will divide them, by drawing on us their hatred, and by fighting at your side, not for a man, not for you, but for the cause of the people, the equality of the constitution, which has been attacked in you.

Desmoulins and Fréron had originally planned to have the journal run for at least a year, however, it failed to catch an audience and was put down already after four numbers. Robespierre’s name did however still get mentioned a total of 40 times throughout the journal, always in a positive light.

On July 6 1792, Lucile gave birth to a son who received the name Horace. The idea that Robespierre was his godfather would appear to be nothing but a myth seeing as the baptism record doesn’t mention any godparents but only two witnesses — neither of which are Robespierre but instead Laurent Lecointre and Merlin de Thionville. After the good days of the relationship were over, both Lucile and her mother would however contemplate over Robespierre having held Horace in his arms on multiple occasions, the former writing: ”You (Robespierre) who have smiled at my son and whom his infantile hands have carassed so many times…” and the latter asking if he still remembered ”the caresses you lavished on little Horace, how you delighted to hold him upon your knee.”

Three days after his birth, Horace was sent off to a wetnurse, while Lucile soon thereafter went to her parents’ country house to rest up. Camille remained in Paris working on a speech that he delivered on July 24. A few days before it he reported to Lucile that ”I dined at Robespierre’s today and talked ever so much about Rouleau (nickname for Lucile), Rouleau, my poor Rouleau.” Lucile returned from the countryside on August 8. Four days later, after the Insurrection of August 10, Camille was made secretary by the new Minister of Justice Danton. After a week, the three went to live at Hôtel de Bourvallais, just a six minute walking distance away from the Duplay house, and where, in Lucile’s own words, ”we spent three months quite cheerfully.”

The trial of the king started around the same time Camille and Lucile returned to their original apartment. Robespierre and Camille once again fought side by side for the same goals — this time for death and against an appeal to the people. In number 2 of his journal La Defenseur de la Constitution, Robespierre inserted a speech Camille had made on the latter of these two questions.

On March 26 1793, Desmoulins and Robespierre were both elected for the so called Commission of Public Safety, alongside 23 others. The commission, consisting of both fervent montagnards and girondins, was however off to a rocky start, and already on April 6 it was put to death and replaced by the Committee of Public Safety, which neither Desmoulins nor Robespierre was on.

On May 17 1793, Desmoulins announced the release of his new pampleth l’Histoire des Brissotins to the Jacobins. We know that Robespierre had had a hand in the creation of this pampleth through a note inserted in Camille’s Lettre de Camille Desmoulins au général Dillon released a few months later:

The true origin of the rigor of the Committee towards you, would it be in a very long note, which was printed following l’Histoire des Brissotins, which Robespierre made me cut out?

The Jacobins published l’Histoire des Brissotins on May 19, and a week later, Robespierre, who for a long time had refused to do so, openly called for an insurrection against ”the corrupt deputies” of the National Convention at the Jacobins, a wish he then repeated three days later. Two days after that, the Insurrection of May 31 took place, and on June 2 the Convention voted for the arrest of 29 Girondins. I think it could be argued it was Desmoulins and Robespierre who together had delivered the principal deathblow to this ”faction.”

Nine days after the murder of Marat, July 22 1793, the Jacobin Club tasked Desmoulins, Robespierre, Lepeletier and Dufourny with writing an adress to the French people regarding it. Said adress was printed and read aloud at the club four days later, obviously deploring of the event and praising the murdered. Just one day after that, July 27, Robespierre was elected as member of the Committee of Public Safety. Camille on the other hand remained restless, and on November 1, he wrote to ”his old friend” to ask to be sent on a mission to Aisne.

I point out to our dear Robespierre that there is no impediment by law to me going to my department. Choudieu and Ricord, who are in theirs, Barras, and so many others, prove that the decree of which Billaud-Varennes spoke yesterday either does not exist or is not being executed. So I always recommend to him, as Lejeune's assistant, the historian Lucceius, reminding him of the custom of the senate of Rome, which never failed, when one of its members wanted to spend a week in Greece or Sicily, to see his father, to deliver to him, honoris curá, letters of credence, and the title of commissioner, or of legatus, which did not prevent him, on the way, from deserving well of the republic, and from gaining the vasarium. His old friend, Camille Desmoulins. To citizen Robespierre, member of the Committee of Public Safety.

As can be seen, Desmoulins adresses Robespierre in third person here, just like Robespierre had done to him two years earlier. These letters are the only examples of these two using third person that I’m aware of, almost making you suspect it was a conscious choice they made of adressing the other like that. Desmoulins did however not obtain any mission, but remained in Paris, as did Robespierre.

On December 5 1793 was released the first number of Desmoulins’ new journal Le Vieux Cordelier. According to what he wrote in said number, it was after having heard Robespierre and Danton speak at the Jacobins on December 3 that he decided to pick up his pen again — ”I leave my office and my armchair, where I had all the leisure to follow, in detail, this new system of our enemies, of which Robespierre only presented the outline, his occupations at the Committee of Public Safety not allowing him to embrace it in its entirety like me.”

 Like with l’Histoire des Brissotins, Camille had let Robespierre proofread and give his approval of the number before it got sent to the publisher. He did the same thing again for the second number, released on December 9, that concerned itself with the topic of dechristianization, denouncing Anacharsis Cloots and Anaxagoras Chaumette for their role in it. These thoughts were shared by Robespierre, who had spoken for liberty of cults on both November 21 and 28 and December 5 and December 6, and would go on to get Cloots expelled from the Jacobins when the latter passed through its scrutiny test on December 12. Two days later, the turn had come to Camille to go through the very same examination. He was at first questioned on his friendship with the general Arthur Dillon and for having stated that the Girondins ”died as republicans” the day they were condemned. After Desmoulins had justified himself, stating among other things that ”a well marked fatality willed that, among the sixty [sic] people who signed my wedding contract, I only have two friends left — Danton and Robespierre. All the others have emigrated or been guillotined,” Robespierre took to the floor and, after reproaching Camille for having been on friendly terms with Mirabeau, Dillon, Lamarlière and the Lameth brothers, made sure his friend passed the test. To ensure it, he first recited from heart a long poem Camille had written in 1787, the verses of which ”struck me so hard back then, that they have been ingraved in my memory,” and then said the following:

The manner in which Camille expressed himself at a time when some great patriots of today trembled, perhaps even cringed, before the tyrant; these are character traits that must be taken into account when judging a man. It is true that no one better than he justifies the proverb of the peoples living on the banks of the Guadalquivir and the Tagus: so and so was brave on such a day. Camille, stricken with thoughts of death, constantly sees the guillotine before his eyes; he imagines that because several of his friends have perished by the last torture, the same fate awaits him. Here is the character of Desmoulins: easy to let himself be warned, he quickly believes in the signs of patriotism that he perceives; but is he undeceived? His love for public affairs makes him tear the veil; he drags in the mud the cheats he had placed under the canopy; it is thus that he treated Mirabeau, the Lameths, and the Brissotins in recent times. The Girondin faction wanted to attract Camille to their party; Sillery was charged with this role. The famous Pamela appeared before Desmoulins, accompanied with an enchanting voice the sounds of a melodious lute; Camille, insensitive to the sting, faithful to his wife, faithful to republican principles, disdained the attractions of this new Circe, of this second Herodiade. Desmoulins, the first of all, mounted at the Palais Royal on the unsteady boards of a tottering table, preached patriotism, pistol in hand; he rendered great services to the Revolution. His energetic and easy pen can still serve it usefully, but it is necessary that, more circumspect in the choice of his friends, he must break any pact with impiety, that is to say, with the aristocracy; on these conditions, I request the admission of Camille Desmoulins.

The next part in the reblog.

[aroacebaker]

Today it’s the 24th of February, 2 years after the full-scale war started in Ukraine. Most know that this isn’t completely out of the blue, since Crimea was invaded 10 years ago, but let’s go back even further.

During the first world war, Ukraine was torn to pieces, literally, it was occupied by Poland, Russia, France, anarchists, and the Whites, Kyiv changed hands over five times in a year, communication inside and outside the country was almost completely cut off.

This war eventually resulted in the Soviet Union occupying Ukraine. Due to this Ukrainian people fought in the Soviet army. At the end of the war Ukraine did gain some independence, for some decisions, such as being accepted into NATO as Ukraine, rather than as the Soviet Union.

On the 21st of January 300 000 Ukrainians lined themselves up between Kyiv and Lviv, forming a human chain for independence and on the 24th of August Ukraine declared itself independent from the Soviet Union.

In 2004 there were presidential elections between Yushchenko and Yanukovich, in which Yanukovich won, however the results were falsified, and the Ukrainians protested for 2 months, this is known as the Orange revolution. The protestors won, and the elections were re-done, where Yushchenko won fair and square.

6 years later there are new elections, in which Yanukovich wins, again, fairly. He promised that he’d integrate Ukraine with Europe and join the EU. However, in 2013 when he was about to sign the agreements to improve relations with the EU, he made a complete 180 degree turn, and spoke about rebuilding relations with Russia. This, naturally made upset the Ukrainians very upset, so they protested for three months straight. They’d eat and sleep on the streets to protest every minute of every day and night, this resulted in police brutality. Every February 20th the people lost during these protests are mourned for their sacrifices for Ukraine’s freedom.

Yanukovich, unable to resist these protests fled the country, While the population was looking for a new president Russia invaded Crimea, there was a referendum, which was accepted due to the pressure and the country we are dealing with, Crimea was taken, and soon the fight over Donetsk and Luhansk begins.

Then, on the 24th of February, the full-scale invasion begins. Ukrainians have fought strongly, never ever giving up, fighting for there freedom, for the freedom of Europe, fighting for the truth and honesty Russia has yet to show. Take a minute today, after reading this far (thank you for still sticking around!) and thank the Ukrainians who have lost their lives in these battles, those who have lost their lives in merciless attacks, and those left behind.

Now, let’s listen to the experiences of one awesome Ukrainian: Living in war is terrifying, “you stop caring about food, sleep. Just staying alive, only thing that matters. We [Ukrainians are] Europeans. We’re not Russia. We died for this, and we continue to fight, every day, for this. We’re not just some people dying somewhere. We are real! We have our language, our songs, our fairytales. We exist. We matter.

Finally, a line from the Ukrainian anthem: "Душу й тіло ми положим за нашу свободу, І покажем, що ми, браття, козацького роду” Meaning “We'll lay down our souls and bodies to attain our freedom, And we'll show that we, brothers, are of the Cossack nation” Слава Українi!

[scotianostra]

On April 6th 1320, the Declaration of Arbroath was drawn up by the monks of Arbroath Abbey.

Fifty-one Scottish magnates and nobles issued a declaration of Scottish independence in the form of a letter to Pope John XXII. This effort was designed to establish Scotland as an independent kingdom no longer under English rule.

The Declaration of Arbroath is without doubt the most famous document in Scottish history. Like the American Declaration of Independence, which is partially based on it, it is seen by many as the founding document of the Scottish nation.

It was most likely drafted in the scriptorium of Arbroath Abbey by Abbot Bernard on behalf of the nobles and barons of Scotland. It was one of three letters sent to the Pope in Avignon, the other two being from King Robert Bruce himself and from four Scottish bishops, attempting to abate papal hostility. The document received the seals of several Scottish barons and it then was taken to the papal court at Avignon in France by Sir Adam Gordon.

There is considerable debate over the Declaration’s significance. For some it is simply a diplomatic document; while others see it as a radical movement in western constitutional thought.

It could be viewed as a cunning diplomatic ploy by the Scottish barons to explain and justify why they were still fighting their neighbours when all Christian princes were supposed to be united in crusade against the Muslims. All this, just at the point when they were about to retake Berwick: Scotland’s most prosperous medieval town. As an explanation, it failed to convince the pope to lift his sentence of excommunication on Scotland.

Others analyse what the Declaration of Arbroath actually says. The Scots clergy had produced not only one of the most eloquent expressions of nationhood, but the first expression of the idea of a contractual monarchy. Here is the critical passage in question:

‘Yet if he (Bruce) should give up what he has begun, and agree to make us or our kingdom subject to the King of England or the English, we should exert ourselves at once to drive him out as our enemy and a subverter of his own rights and ours, and make some other man who was well able to defend us our King; for, as long as but a hundred of us remain alive, never will we on any conditions be brought under English rule. It is in truth not for glory, nor riches, nor honours that we are fighting, but for freedom - for that alone, which no honest man gives up but with life itself.’

The threat to drive Bruce out if he ever sold Scotland to English rule was a fantastic bluff. There was nobody else to take his place. The point is that the nobles and clergy are not basing their argument to the pope on the traditional notion of the Divine Rights of Kings. Bruce is King first and foremost because the nation chose him, not God, and the nation would just as easily choose another if they were betrayed by the King. The explanation also neatly covers the fact that Bruce had usurped John Balliol’s rightful kingship in the first place.

In spite of all possible motivations for its creation, the Declaration of Arbroath, under the extraordinary circumstances of the Wars of Independence, was a prototype of contractual kingship in Europe.

The pics are the document itself, a re-enactment of the signing from 1957, the statue in Arbroath, a mural at Arbroath train station and a pic I collated of the seals on the document.