#le beau sound collection

[trashexplorer]

BLCD Review: Haga-kun wa Kamaretai

Title: Haga-kun wa Kamaretai (羽賀くんは噛まれたい)

Author/Artist: Sakashita Senmu

Release Date: 2021/09/10

Cast: 

Takahashi Hiroki x Ono Yuuki

Ishiya Haruki

Miyake Marie

Matsuoka Youhei

Kawada Yuu

Souma Koichi

Synopsis: Prisoner Haga was tired of his boring life in jail and thought of staging a jailbreak! Just at that moment, an alpha prison officer was assigned to him...?

Review Proper

I mean, I knew. 

Still, wait, no, I KNEW. I HAVE NO EXCUSE. I KNEW, BUT WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS PLOT or lack thereof? 😂 The things I do for Ono Yuuki...

Anyway, know that this is PWP to the max and if you’re a plothoe like me, this ain’t for you. We’ll just go straight to the production now.

For those who haven’t noticed already, this is reversed DakaOtoko. It’s not that I haven’t heard TakaHiro as a top before, but as I’ve said in previous reviews, he’s pretty hit and miss. Thankfully, however, he did pretty well. It’s a far cry from his Renjaku-san performance that I love and adore, but he survived at least. Goddamn, DakaOtoko 4 really fucked me up. Sorry, TakaHiro. For more context, he (as well as Kishow and Suzuki Chihiro) pauses and rushes at odd moments. Like rapping then stopping suddenly lmao. It’s not really obvious in Haga, but it’s 100% there if you listen for it. He did have his moments, though. His daddy moments. Best believe this man could be the next Kenyuu or Sugitan if he sets his mind to it. 

As for Ono Yuuki, the true MVP of this BLCD, I felt like he did a bit too much.  😂 It’s not necessarily a bad thing, but I can’t deny that he managed to swallow TakaHiro up in this performance. You gotta hand it to this man. His Haga was like a mix of Tattsun’s Gian Carlo, Okitsu’s Maki from Kuchizuke o wa Uso no Aji, and his own Minato. All the queen sluts combined! No wonder everyone else drowned. 😂 And aww I missed Ono Yuuki in more comedic roles. It’s been such a long while. I wish for more of these (but I’m really fine with settling with just Dante for now). 

As for the rest of the cast, I’m pleasantly surprised that they did very well. Ishiya Haruki’s very dynamic here. He could easily match energies with OnoYuu’s Haga, adding to the authentic chaotic omega broham shebang. There’s one of the last three who has Moririn’s range tho. I’m still gonna check that out later, but I was really shook. I hope he does more BL. We need you, sir. 

Overall, the execution was fine. They did cut some dialogue here and there, but there weren’t any major changes. If chaotic omegaverse is your dig, then definitely give this a try. I’m not really an abo enjoyer, so I can’t recommend anything similar sumimasen. The things I do for Ono Yuuki x 2 There’s Kashikomarimashita, Destiny, though.

[agerefandom]

Fanfiction Masterpost

In the current absence of AO3, may I remind everyone that my fanfictions are accessible on tumblr? ;p

If you'd like a full list of my writing, including both headcanons and fanfictions, my story page is accessible on desktop but I think some mobile users may have trouble accessing it! So here's a mobile-friendly version of my fanfictions.

Animaniacs  Yakko To The Rescue: big brother!Yakko with regressor!reader 

Avatar:The Last Airbender Flourishing in Sunlight: cg!Zuko and regressor!Katara, post-canon

Be More Chill Safety In Numbers: regressor!Rich, worried Jeremy

Boku No Hero Academia Sound and Silence: domestic regressor!Aizawa and cg!HizashiSomething Wrong: regressor!Katsuki gets cornered by Izuku and doesn’t react well (heavy fic)  Class Outing: Izuku regresses while at the mall with Class 1A

Calvin and Hobbes Old Friends: regressor!Calvin with Hobbes

Critical Role (C2) Books and Pigments: regressor!Jester and regressor!Caleb playdate Picking Up The Pieces: struggling regressor!Caleb and helpful Caduceus  Through Anything: regressor!Beau and Jester, doing Yasha’s hair

Death Note Restrained: Classification!AU with regressor!Light struggling in confinement 

Doctor Who The TARDIS Playroom: regressor!Thirteenth Doctor and an unexpected Graham

Good Omens  Evenings Of Eternity: regressor!Crowley, cg!Aziraphale (chapter two)  Mornings and Knights: sequel to the above story 

Harry Potter What Family Is: regressor!reader and their cgs, Remus and Sirius Golden Slumbers: regressor!reader, big brother!Harry Potter, and cg!Fred Weasley (cglre terminology) 

Hazbin Hotel Angels At The Window: regressor!Reader and caregivers!Vaggie and Charlie

Hetalia Bedtime Tears: Human AU, regressor!Italy with cg!Japan&Germany 

Homestuck Cupcakes and Moms: regressor!Dave and his mom Roxy  >Dirk: Regress: self-indulgent Dirk regression Big Brother, Little Brother: regressor!Dave and regressor!Dirk, regressing together for the first time, cg!Roxy and John.  Simple Days: minific with regressor!June and cg!Rose

The Magnus Archives Song of the Hive: regressor!Jane Prentiss horror story 

Marvel Quiet Days: cg!Natasha and regressor!reader drabble Kitchen Friends: regressor!reader (he/him) and cg!Bucky/Steve

Les Miserables Calling You Home: regressor!Enjolras and caregiver!Grantaire

Minecraft  It Takes A Village: regressor!reader in a minecraft world, ft. cg!villagers and curious enderman 

Natasha, Pierre, and the Great Comet of 1812  Natasha is Young: regressor!Natasha and cg!Helene

Night In The Woods Shapes and Friends: regressor!Mae with Gregg and Angus

Ouran High School Host Club  To Weather The Storm: Tamaki finds out that Haruhi regresses (cglre terminology)  Taking Care of Mori: regressor!Mori and cg!Hunny, ft. observant!Haruhi Fancy Tuna and Frantic Texts: regressor!Haruhi, cgs Tamaki and Kyoya (cglre terminology) 

Pinky and the Brain The Joy of Theatre: Pinky puts on a play, Brain indulges him All The Great Men: Brain is having a hard day: Pinky does his best to help Yakko To The Rescue: regressor!reader and their big brother Yakko 

Phantom of the Opera Forever More: regressor!Erik and cg!Christine, established dynamic

Resident Evil VIII Only Heaven I’ll Be Sent To: regressor!reader (she/her) and cg!Dimitrescu (cglre terminology)

Sanders Sides Just Plane Overwhelmed: regressor!Virgil and cg!Patton on a stressful plane ride The Playtime Solution: regressor!Logan needs a break, cg!Patton To The Moon And Back: regressor!Logan, cg!Roman

Steven Universe Safe and Sound: regressor!Steven tries to stop regressing, cg!Crystal Gems (also rewritten here with transfem Steven going by Stephanie)  system/REGRESS.Steven: a rewrite of the Spinel fight, the rejeuvenator works on Steven and Amethyst is the one who has to collect all her regressed friends

Twilight Cold Palms, Warm Words: regressor!reader with cg!Alice and Jasper Sugar Sweet: baby-regressor!reader with established cg!Alice and Jasper  The Doctor’s Office: regressor!reader with cg!Carlisle  Home Sweet Home: Carlisle and Esme as parents, the other Cullens as regressors with varied age ranges Baby Steps: regressor!Bella with caregiver!Charlie (cw depression) 

Undertale A Story For Sans: regressor!Sans is exhausted, and Papyrus is worried Sweet Pea and Papyrus: cg!Papyrus and a regressor!reader who’s had a bad day 

[cinebration]

Thief’s Kiss (Remy LeBeau x Reader) [Request]

Hi! Can I send a request too? I really wanna something about Remy / The Gambit, please. Maybe a date 😁 A romantic dinner with a make out session after (It doesn't need to be like a real smut) 😉 A lot of neck kisses, plese! 🥰🥰🥰 — Requested by anon

Tagged: @illbegoinhome​ (since you expressed an interest in him before)

Warnings: none

Gif Source: monikanarnia

Remy LeBeau was trouble incarnate if ever you saw one. His name was LeBeau, after all. But it wasn’t just his roguish smile, fabulous hair, buttery accent, or those enchanting black-and-red eyes. It was in the way he carried himself, the swagger, the confidence. It told you he was most definitely a man who walked around in his boxers at home—or in the nude.

You knew this at first glance, but when he asked you in that drawl of his, “My, my, chère, tell me you’d be willin’ ta be my date for tonight,” you said yes without reserve.

Arriving a few minutes late to the semi-upscale restaurant, you found him already seated outside on the veranda, looking fine in a tailored suit. He had ditched the tie, the top button undone to reveal some of the skin underneath. You paused for a moment to admire the tableau.

As though sensing your appreciative gaze, Remy glanced up in your direction and grinned, flashing perfect teeth in an even more perfect face. Fighting the tingling in your stomach, you joined him at the table. He jumped up to pull out the chair for you.

Chivalry, you thought. I have to watch out for this one.

Settling back in the seat across from you, Remy took a moment to return your appreciative glance. “You look magnifique, chère.”

Heat flushed up your neck and cheeks. What were you, a schoolgirl? You’d been on plenty of dates before; why the hell were you so nervous around him?

His smile widened.

I’m in for trouble, you thought, and you smiled back.

After placing your orders with the waiter, Remy segued into small talk. “So, what do you do for work?”

“I work for Lawson Stettler of Stettler, Inc. I procure items for him for his collections.” You smiled, chuckled to yourself. “They call me the Finder of All Lost Things.”

“Sounds like my job.”

“Oh?”

“Procurin’ things that are difficult to get ahold of. It’s my specialty.”

Your eyebrows arched. “It takes a special kind of skill set…and mind set.”

“We’re all made for somethin’.”

“I agree. So, do you work for anyone in particular? Or are you a freelancer?”

“I prefer freelancin’. Providin’ for myself is half de fun.”

You shook your head. “I’m on call at all hours, because Mr. Stettler has sudden urges to acquire things—and sure, I don’t like that—but I’m not sure I could handle not having the security of a permanent job.”

“Security ain’t all it’s cut out ta be.”

Laughing in agreement, you felt your nerves ease. The waiter brought over the meals a few moments later. Moving your clutch from your lap to the table, you dug into the food with as much daintiness as you could manage, despite the fact you were actually quite famished. Remy ate heartily as well, keeping you engaged with a rollicking story involving the acquisition of some pearls for an unnamed client. You had the feeling he was deliberately hiding things, but you avoided the sensation and focused on enjoying the outrageousness of the story. His energy had you buzzing with excitement.

Dessert arrived shortly after you finished your meals. Instead of sharing, you had each ordered something different: créme brûlée and a sense, moist chocolate cake. Remy reached over and sliced off a small piece of your brûlée with his fork.

Chuckling, you batted away his fork with your own when he reached for another bite. A woman with a basket hanging off her arm wandered over to you. A fresh set of various roses lay nestled in the wicker basket.

“A rose for the lady?” she asked.

“He could use one for his lapel,” you quipped.

“Me? Am I not already handsome enough?” Remy fished out some change from his pocket and paid for one rose. Instead of presenting it to you, however, he took his butter knife to it, cutting away nearly all of the stem and its thorns.

You watched with interest, curious.

“Voilà,” he cried, flourishing it, “now it can complement your hair.”

“Oh?”

Remy stood, moved his chair closer to yours, and gently reached forward, his smile soft, though his eyes were sharp with amusement. “May I?”

“Sure.”

His fingers brushed through your hair, curling stray strands behind your ear. Electricity sparked through you at the touch, warming your skin and sending a tingling sensation down to your toes. Trying not to lose your head, you tipped back under his ministrations as he tucked the rose over your ear and into your hair.

His lips ghosted over your neck just below your earlobe, trailing down your throat. Your breath caught as his touch, as light as a feather, skimmed over your skin. Fire followed in its wake, your nerves alight with it.

“There we are, chére,” he murmured against your skin, gently ghosting back up to the spot below your ear. He pressed a gentle kiss there, humming low in his throat.

Eyes fluttering shut, you tipped your head back, giving him better access. He peppered kisses down your throat, each touch of his feather-soft lips blossoming fire beneath your skin.

It wasn’t until the touch of his tongue laving over a spot near your collarbone sent a delicious jolt through you that you remembered you were out in public.

Pulling back with reluctance, you smiled at his bemused expression, trying not to notice his dilated pupils, and murmured, “You’re forward, aren’t you?”

“Some opportunities can’t be given up, chère,” he answered, his voice husky.

Swallowing thickly, you returned your attention to your brûlée. It felt cold on your tongue, especially when Remy seemed to be more than dessert enough for you. He paid for the meal and escorted you back to your car, where he paused to give you a proper kiss on the mouth. His tongue swept into your mouth, sending electric shocks through you. When you pulled away you could hardly catch your breath.

“My thanks,” he murmured, bowing his head with a rakish smile. “I will be de gentleman tonight, but perhaps another time, non?”

The words tumbled out of you. “Yes, definitely.”

“I look forward to it.”

With a bow, he walked off into the night, leaving you by the car. You watched him disappear past the reach of the street lamps before sagging against your car door and digging around in your clutch for your keys.

You pulled them out, then hesitated, frowning. Glancing into the clutch again, you shifted its spare contents around.

Your keycard was gone.

That cheeky bastard, you thought. Then you smiled, the curve of it vulpine.

He wasn’t the only one who had tricks up his sleeve. He had made a mistake stealing from you.

You could track him down with your mutant ability. You were, after all, the Finder of All Lost Things.

It gave you an excuse to see him sooner than he expected.

[awardseason]

2021 BAFTA Awards — Winners

BEST FILM The Father  The Mauritanian Nomadland — WINNER Promising Young Woman The Trial Of The Chicago 7

LEADING ACTRESS Bukky Bakray, Rocks Radha Blank, The Forty-Year-Old Version Vanessa Kirby, Pieces Of A Woman Frances McDormand, Nomadland — WINNER Wunmi Mosaku, His House Alfre Woodard, Clemency

LEADING ACTOR Riz Ahmed, Sound Of Metal Chadwick Boseman, Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom Adarsh Gourav, The White Tiger Anthony Hopkins, The Father — WINNER Mads Mikkelsen, Another Round Tahar Rahim, The Mauritanian

SUPPORTING ACTRESS Niamh Algar, Calm With Horses Kosar Ali, Rocks Maria Bakalova, Borat Subsequent Moviefilm Dominique Fishback, Judas And The Black Messiah Ashley Madekwe, County Lines Yuh-Jung Youn, Minari — WINNER

SUPPORTING ACTOR Daniel Kaluuya, Judas And The Black Messiah — WINNER Barry Keoghan, Calm With Horses Alan Kim, Minari Leslie Odom Jr., One Night In Miami… Clarke Peters, Da 5 Bloods Paul Raci, Sound Of Metal

DIRECTOR Another Round, Thomas Vinterberg Babyteeth, Shannon Murphy Minari, Lee Isaac Chung Nomadland, Chloé Zhao — WINNER Quo Vadis, Aida?, Jasmila Žbanić Rocks, Sarah Gavron

ORIGINAL SCREENPLAY Another Round, Tobias Lindholm, Thomas Vinterberg Mank, Jack Fincher Promising Young Woman, Emerald Fennell — WINNER Rocks, Theresa Ikoko, Claire Wilson The Trial Of The Chicago 7, Aaron Sorkin

ADAPTED SCREENPLAY The Dig, Moira Buffini The Father, Christopher Hampton, Florian Zeller — WINNER The Mauritanian, Rory Haines, Sohrab Noshirvani, M.B. Traven Nomadland, Chloé Zhao The White Tiger, Ramin Bahrani

OUTSTANDING BRITISH FILM Calm With Horses The Dig The Father His House Limbo The Mauritanian Mogul Mowgli Promising Young Woman — WINNER Rocks Saint Maud

OUTSTANDING DEBUT, BRITISH WRITER/DIRECTOR/PRODUCER His House, Remi Weekes (Writer/Director) — WINNER Limbo, Ben Sharrock (Writer/Director), Irune Gurtubai (Producer) [Also Produced By Angus Lamont] Moffie, Jack Sidey (Writer/Producer) [Also Written By Oliver Hermanus And Produced By Eric Abraham] Rocks, Theresa Ikoko, Claire Wilson (Writers) Saint Maud, Rose Glass (Writer/Director), Oliver Kassman (Producer) [Also Produced By Andrea Cornwell]

FILM NOT IN ENGLISH LANGUAGE Another Round — WINNER Dear Comrades! Les Misérables Minari Quo Vadis, Aida?

DOCUMENTARY Collective David Attenborough: A Life On Our Planet The Dissident My Octopus Teacher — WINNER The Social Dilemma

ANIMATED FILM Onward Soul — WINNER Wolfwalkers

ORIGINAL SCORE Mank, Trent Reznor, Atticus Ross Minari, Emile Mosseri News Of The World, James Newton Howard Promising Young Woman, Anthony Willis Soul, Jon Batiste, Trent Reznor, Atticus Ross — WINNER

CASTING Calm With Horses, Shaheen Baig Judas And The Black Messiah, Alexa L. Fogel Minari, Julia Kim Promising Young Woman, Lindsay Graham Ahanonu, Mary Vernieu Rocks, Lucy Pardee — WINNER

CINEMATOGRAPHY Judas And The Black Messiah, Sean Bobbitt Mank, Erik Messerschmidt The Mauritanian, Alwin H. Küchler News Of The World, Dariusz Wolski Nomadland, Joshua James Richards — WINNER

EDITING The Father, Yorgos Lamprinos Nomadland, Chloé Zhao Promising Young Woman, Frédéric Thoraval Sound Of Metal, Mikkel E.G. Nielsen — WINNER The Trial Of The Chicago 7, Alan Baumgarten

PRODUCTION DESIGN The Dig, Maria Djurkovic, Tatiana Macdonald The Father, Peter Francis, Cathy Featherstone Mank, Donald Graham Burt, Jan Pascale — WINNER News Of The World, David Crank, Elizabeth Keenan Rebecca, Sarah Greenwood, Katie Spencer

COSTUME DESIGN Ammonite, Michael O’connor The Dig, Alice Babidge Emma., Alexandra Byrne Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom, Ann Roth — WINNER Mank, Trish Summerville

MAKE-UP & HAIR The Dig, Jenny Shircore Hillbilly Elegy, Patricia Dehaney, Eryn Krueger Mekash, Matthew Mungle Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom, Matiki Anoff, Larry M. Cherry, Sergio Lopez-Rivera, Mia Neal — WINNER Mank, Kimberley Spiteri, Gigi Williams Pinocchio, Mark Coulier

SOUND Greyhound, Beau Borders, Christian P. Minkler, Michael Minkler, Warren Shaw, David Wyman News Of The World, Michael Fentum, William Miller, Mike Prestwood Smith, John Pritchett, Oliver Tarney Nomadland, Sergio Diaz, Zach Seivers, M. Wolf Snyder Soul, Coya Elliott, Ren Klyce, David Parker Sound Of Metal, Jaime Baksht, Nicolas Becker, Phillip Bladh, Carlos Cortés, Michelle Couttolenc — WINNER

SPECIAL VISUAL EFFECTS Greyhound, Pete Bebb, Nathan Mcguinness, Sebastian Von Overheidt The Midnight Sky, Matt Kasmir, Chris Lawrence, David Watkins Mulan, Sean Faden, Steve Ingram, Anders Langlands, Seth Maury The One And Only Ivan, Santiago Colomo Martinez, Nick Davis, Greg Fisher Tenet, Scott Fisher, Andrew Jackson, Andrew Lockley — WINNER

BRITISH SHORT FILM Eyelash, Jesse Lewis Reece, Ike Newman Lizard, Akinola Davies, Rachel Dargavel, Wale Davies Lucky Break, John Addis, Rami Sarras Pantoja Miss Curvy, Ghada Eldemellawy The Present, Farah Nabulsi — WINNER

BRITISH SHORT ANIMATION The Fire Next Time, Renaldho Pelle, Yanling Wang, Kerry Jade Kolbe The Owl And The Pussycat, Mole Hill, Laura Duncalf — WINNER The Song Of A Lost Boy, Daniel Quirke, Jamie Macdonald, Brid Arnstein

EE BAFTA RISING STAR Bukky Bakray — WINNER Conrad Khan Kingsley Ben-Adir Morfydd Clark Ṣọpẹ́ Dìrísù

BAFTA FELLOWSHIP AWARD Ang Lee

[grad505ameliaspeight]

Pop culture in the1950s

Music 

Popular music in the early 1950s was essentially a continuation of the crooner sound of the previous decade, with less emphasis on the jazz-influenced big band style and more emphasis on a conservative, operatic, symphonic style of music. Popular artists where;  Frank Sinatra, Tony Bennett, Frankie Laine, Patti Page, Judy Garland, Johnnie Ray, Kay Starr, Perry Como, Bing Crosby and etc.

The new music differed from previous styles in that it was primarily targeted at the teenager market, which became a distinct entity for the first time in the 1950s as growing prosperity meant that young people did not have to grow up as quickly or be expected to support a family. Rock-and-roll proved to be a difficult phenomenon for older Americans to accept and there were widespread accusations of it being a communist-orchestrated scheme to corrupt the youth, although rock and roll was extremely market based and capitalistic.

Television

The 1950s are known as The Golden Age of Television by some people. Sales of TV sets rose tremendously in the 1950s and by 1950 4.4 million families in America had a television set. Americans devoted most of their free time to watching television broadcasts. People spent so much time watching TV, that movie attendance dropped and so did the number of radio listeners.[13] Television revolutionised the way Americans see themselves and the world around them. TV affects all aspects of American culture. "Television affects what we wear, the music we listen to, what we eat, and the news we receive“.

Film

European cinema experienced a renaissance in the 1950s following the deprivations of World War II. Italian director Federico Fellini won the first foreign language film Academy Award with La Strada and garnered another Academy Award with Nights of Cabiria. In 1955, Swedish director Ingmar Bergman earned a Jury Prize at the Cannes Film Festival with Smiles of a Summer Night and followed the film with masterpieces The Seventh Seal and Wild Strawberries. Jean Cocteau's Orphée, a film central to his Orphic Trilogy, starred Jean Marais and was released in 1950. French director Claude Chabrol's Le Beau Serge is now widely considered the first film of the French New Wave. Notable European film stars of the period include Brigitte Bardot, Sophia Loren, Marcello Mastroianni, Max von Sydow, and Jean-Paul Belmondo.

Art Movements

In the early 1950s Abstract expressionism and artists Jackson Pollock and Willem de Kooning were enormously influential. However, by the late 1950s Color Field painting and Barnett Newman and Mark Rothko's paintings became more in focus to the next generation.

Pop art used the iconography of television, photography, comics, cinema and advertising. With its roots in dadaism, it started to take form towards the end of the 1950s when some European artists started to make the symbols and products of the world of advertising and propaganda the main subject of their artistic work. This return of figurative art, in opposition to the abstract expressionism that dominated the aesthetic scene since the end of World War II was dominated by Great Britain until the early 1960s when Andy Warhol, the most known artist of this movement began to show Pop Art in galleries in the United States.

Fashion

The 1950s saw the birth of the teenager and with it rock n roll and youth fashion dominating the fashion industry. In the UK the Teddy boy became both style icons and anti-authoritarian figures. While in America Greasers had a similar social position. Previously teenagers dressed similarly to their parents but now a rebellious and different youth style was being developed. This was particularly noticeable in the overtly sexual nature of their dress. Men wore tight trousers, leather jackets and emphasis was on slicked, greasy hair.

New ideas meant new designers who had a concept of what was fashion. Fashion started gaining a voice and style when Christian Dior created “The New Look” collection. The 1950s was not only about spending on luxurious brands but also the idea of being comfortable was created. It was a time where resources were available and it was a new type of fashion. Designers were creating collections with different materials such as: taffeta, nylon, rayon, wool and leather that allowed different colors and patterns. People started wearing artificial fibers because it was easier to take care of and it was price effective.[15] It was a time where shopping was part of a lifestyle.

Different designers emerged or made a comeback on the 1950s because as mention before it was a time for fashion and ideas. The most important designers from the time were:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/1950s#Popular_culture 

[lu-undy]

Request: Lucien always wanted to tell his feelings to the bushman but is too shy to, so he always spoke it to him in french, knowing the other man couldn't understand. He gets a surprise when Mundy responds to him back in french. Turns out he's been learning french just to understand the Spy, and has returned his feelings for a long time now.

Here it is! I hope you’ll enjoy it :D

There was a knock at the door. 

"Come in." 

The door creaked as the tall man peeked in. 

"Hey, Spook."

"Come in, mon beau."

[My handsome one.]

Sniper entered completely and shut the door after him. Spy knew he didn't understand when he spoke French. Sniper just assumed it all meant 'my friend' or something similar, no doubt.

"Take a seat, coffee is almost ready." Spy said as he exited his kitchen with a tray in his hand. 

They both sat on the sofa and Spy put the tray down. Two mugs were on it: a blue one, and a white one with '#1 Sniper' written on it in bold red, capital letters. 

"Oh, you got my mug?" Sniper asked.

"From the common kitchen, I hope you don't mind?"

"Nah, it's alright." 

"Thanks. Give me a second, I shall get the coffee."

"Sure." 

A few moments later, they were both enjoying a warm mug of coffee.

"Hm, that's a fruity one you got there, Spook." 

"Oui, indeed. I like this blend of beans and I wanted you to try it. Last week's one was a bit too strong so I thought it might be better to try a lighter, more colourful one." 

"Yeah, tastes really good."

"Oh, by the way, do you have time to stay a bit longer today?" Spy asked.

"Ah, uh, yeah, yeah. I have all the afternoon to myself today." Sniper answered before they both took a sip. 

It was true that very frequently now, Sniper would stay only for a short moment with Spy. He would then excuse himself and Spy would hear the sound of the van driving off. Where Sniper was going was beyond Spy. Maybe he had someone in his life? Someone he preferred over Spy…?

"And talking about colourful, your mug's quite bright." Sniper's voice broke Spy's train of voice.

"Lagoon blue," Spy added, "le bleu de tes yeux." 

[The shade of blue of your eyes.]

They exchanged a smile. 

"Sounds nice when you speak French." Sniper said.

"Does it?"

"Yeah, quite soothing to the ear." Sniper looked down at his mug to not feel Spy's gaze weigh too much on him.

Spy smiled. Sniper was of course oblivious to all the sweet nothings that Spy was telling him, and that was the point. Spy's heart fluttered at the mere sight of Sniper's hat. He loved the man, oui, he loved him romantically, passionately. He was in love with the hat, the glasses, the sideburns and the hoarse voice. But he didn't know how or if he should tell him. So he resorted to this absurd way, to tell him in French such that it got out of his chest but Sniper wouldn't understand. 

"Shall I then treat you to a poem, mon ange? It would be in French, of course." Spy offered.

[My angel]

"Oh…" Sniper's eyebrows jumped. "You know some?" 

"But of course. There is one that became so popular that it got translated into English and transformed into a song. You call it 'Autumn leaves' I think."

"Oh yeah, it's quite well known." Sniper recalled. "Yeah, go ahead, I'm listening."

Spy cleared his throat and shook his head to put himself in the right state of mind. He calmed his breath and soon started reciting.

"Oh, je voudrais tant que tu te souviennes

[Oh, I would love for you to remember]

Des jours heureux où nous étions amis

[Those happy days when we were friends.]

En ce temps-là la vie était plus belle

[Back then, life was prettier]

Et le soleil plus brûlant qu'aujourd'hui"

[And the sun more scorching than today]

Sniper listened carefully. He liked the rhythm and music of it.

"C'est une chanson qui nous ressemble

[It's a song that resembles us]

Toi tu m'aimais, et je t'aimais

[You, who loved me, and me, who loved you]

Nous vivions tous les deux ensemble

[We used to live together, the two of us]

Toi qui m'aimais, moi qui t'aimais

[You, who loved me, and me, who loved you]"

Sniper leaned back and saw Spy close his eyes. His voice was enchanting him. He felt as if he was floating on a cloud, in the sky, Spy's voice carrying him in weightlessness, his ears tickling him on the inside… 

"Mais la vie sépare ceux qui s'aiment

[But life separates those who love each other]

Tout doucement, sans faire de bruit

[Very softly, without making a noise]

Et la mer efface sur le sable

[And the sea washes away on the sand]

Les pas des amants désunis"

[The footsteps of broken lovers]

Spy paused and opened his eyes slowly. Sniper saw his eyelids open, his eyelashes brushee the air softly and his irises finally showed, shining as mysteriously as the sun in the early hours in the morning. His pupils moved and connected with Sniper's. 

"What do you think of the music of it?" Spy asked. 

"It's… It's beautiful… And the way you recited it... You looked like you felt the lyrics. Look!" Sniper rolled up his sleeve. "I still have the goosebumps!"

Spy smiled, with half of his mouth and tilted his head on the side. 

"I indeed felt the meaning of it, mon trésor." 

[My treasure]

He relaxed and Sniper could feel it in his guts. The power of Spy's voice, only he could use his voice and beguile Sniper like that…

"Should I translate it for you? You might be wondering what I have been talking about, as I imagine it all sounded like gibberish to you." He chuckled. 

"No." Sniper answered and Spy's chuckle stopped sharp. 

He raised a curious eyebrow. 

"You prefer to keep it mysterious?" Spy asked. 

"No, I got it. I mean, well, I understood the rough idea at least." Sniper answered. 

"What?" Spy's surprise was painted all over his face.

"It's about two people who used to love each other and got separated by life." Sniper scratched his head. "And then something about the sea wiping out their footsteps in the sand."

Spy's jaw had dropped. If Sniper had understood the poem, surely that meant that he had understood all the sweet things that he had been telling him…?

"I uh, yeah, all those times I had to go away early from you… I was takin' night classes in uh, in French… I've been working my arse off to try and understand you. I've got tons of books and cassette tapes in the van now, heh…"

"You understand French?" Spy asked, horrified and as red as a brick. 

"Now, yeah, a bit better."

"Merde…" Spy put a hand on his mouth and lowered his head.

[Shit…]

"Well, that's not a word they teach us in the classes, but I know what it means." Sniper tried to lighten up the atmosphere. 

"I…" Spy didn't know what to say. Should he apologise? Should he explain himself? Non, doing that meant admitting his feelings to Sniper. He couldn't do that, he wasn't ready, no one was. Spy loosened the knot of his tie slightly and pulled on his collar to get more air. He was sweating bullets. It was a lot, too much, and he slammed a hand on his eyes to hide himself. 

"Spook? You alright?"

"You… You've been understanding me for how long now?" 

"A few weeks only. The words you usually use with me aren't those we started the lessons with so it took me some time to understand. Mon ange is my angel, mon trésor is my treasure, mon beau is my handsome one and I think the bit you said about your mug was uh, well, you compared it to the colour of my eyes…" Sniper chuckled out of nervousness and put a hand behind his neck. 

"I… I'm sorry Sniper. I… It was ridiculous, I just - Argh, nevermind what I wanted, now I need to apologise and please, if you want to leave, I won't hold you back unnecessarily and I am putting an end to all this nonsense" Spy still hid his ashamed eyes behind his gloved hand. 

"Spook…" 

The Frenchman felt a hand on his shoulder. 

"Moi aussi, uh, uhm… Moi aussi je te trouve beau."

[Me too, uh, uhm… I also find you handsome.]

Sniper managed to collect his vocabulary and grammar. 

"I hope I didn't make too many mistakes, eh. I'm much better at understandin' than speaking. But uh, yeah, what I meant was-"

"You also find me handsome?" Spy removed his hand from his eyes and looked at Sniper with wide, surprised eyes.

Sniper nodded as his cheeks turned a bit more pink. 

"You're, yeah, you look good even with the mask on. Tu as… uhm… de très beaux yeux… uh… très… impressive?" 

[You have… very beautiful eyes… very…]

"Impressionnant. The word for 'impressive' is 'impressionnant'. Do you really think what you just said?" Spy asked. 

Sniper scooted closer to Spy on the sofa and his hand brushed Spy's back. 

"Y-yeah." He looked away and nodded. 

"Sniper, I…"

Sniper's head pivoted and his eyes met Spy's hypnotic ice blue ones. The rest of the sentence was hard to push out. 

"I…" Spy's mouth was too dry and he couldn't even gulp down.

"Me too." Sniper said, his breath gone ever since Spy's eyes stared at him that way.

Their heads moved closer, their eyes moving from each other's to their noses and their lips. They could hear the other's heartbeat through their parted lips.

But their eyes closed. They couldn't see what would happen next. 

Sniper's hand slid down Spy's back and Spy's gloved hands found themselves on the cheeks with the sideburns. 

"Je t'aime."

[I love you.]

It was a whisper, with an English accent. 

"I love you."

And the answer came with a French twist.

Their lips shyly met. They were shaking. But as soon as they did meet, both Sniper and Spy relaxed, and melted into each other's arms. Their hands brushed the fabrics and the skin that they had yearned to hold, their lips went limp on the lips that they had yearned to kiss, for so long…!

[cordbelief0]

EN IYI Pokemon GO Mod (GTA5 Mod Komik Anlar).

Hi, Forget forget, came all the past. Forget Pokemon mode. All you got to do is close your eyes and look at a new reality. It's the best I 39 have. Seen this Pokemon Go Mode. This is the best I've ever seen. This Pokemon Go mode has been seen. Incredible cross Pokemon Go Mode ..., * Amazing Sounds *. Although I knew I was exaggerating Generating gas, I wanted to make an entry. I am not sure if it is possible to Fuck each Anyway. Yes, there is. There are a lot. One by one. Then, individuals get to catch all Poketopu. Pokestop are toplicaz 6-for example. I collected now go and had to poke it. How do I get my Pokemon prune small Charmander & # 39 s, son -Very good? I will place you. Very nice. The chart legend does not go there. Are you a Pokemon? I have no idea how to correct this Pokemon. Charmander beat me ..... I think that I killed trapezoid. They come here in order to escape a Squirtle Squirtle. We caught haha yeah. We had Squirtle # 39 i. Looking at a little before 5 & # 39, ve got Squirtle. Hello. Little Squirtle. This is too crazy. Abu, how this game Pokemon and eyeless A Pikachu (, diditditdirit, hua, hua ) we got was okay yeah. We have a Pikachu. We found 2 eggs for the first game yurudukce. I still need to recover. Squirtle haha! Okay, we're done. We beat poketopu according the her mouth is squirtle or squirtle. I hit my head damned I have you. We have taken le Squirtle and # 39 l, defeated them both. We 39 re, going back to me. Squirtle Saydek brothers or not, no one bad eye or blind ( smile ). I was broken down or Pokemon. Let's look at me. I was chasing Balbazar girls. Squirtle Squirtle skipped, skip, and skipped the alarm. He also worked thousands of cars. We're getting used Squirtle 39 l with evil and psychotic. check my site Let 39 s, get a little from Poketop council Poketop, on our way to a lot more fulleyel. Let them go after Pokemon hunting. Man ripped. Aha different Pokemon Squirtle beat him. I beat him catch. I was the only woman who would tell poketop Kosuyo women to take their hands off of their heads. Come here, balbazar ooo, very nice okey Charmander move a joker very nice ( laughter ). Did you see Saydek? He slowly walks along the road in eternal shame. Look. Look. Look. Look! Take a look! Look at me, ezce, her ( laughing ), Saydek(, laughing ). ( Laugh! ). ( More laughter ), We have the killer, or poemo Pikachu pulled off a dead. Saydek was killed, a Saydek. Beautiful Saydek. We are either pitying or killing ourselves freaks. We have moved on, moved, moved and walked. Bandits. Are we Squirtle, or foot Oh to become the man? I found my main ghost rider & #39 s engine. Oh, my main man noluyo You what happened to my son Annnamm connected with drawings, like something the man was an idiot. Look, look at, look at, look! Look! Look, there, look! Look! There was a striped shot man in front me. Aa jerks tied idiot engine binince. He is one man escape from Motherrrrrr Poke. I'll throw the ball for you. Man escape Caught, ohh, look, beau cost you idiot God bila how they run to get my son or

[extrabeurre]

MANK part en tête d’une course aux Oscars bien bizarre

Je me suis réveillé tantôt, j'ai parti la cafetière, puis en checkant Twitter, je me suis dit: "Ah oui, c'est vrai, les nominations des Oscars ont été dévoilées." 

 C’est la première année depuis une éternité où je ne suis pas au poste au moment où les nominations des Oscars sont annoncées. Je l’ai déjà dit, mais je suis assez désinteressé cette année par cette course aux remises de prix où sont honorés des films que presque personne n’a pu voir sur grand écran, pandémie oblige. 

Oui, il y a d’excellents films en lice, comme Nomadland, Sound of Metal et Promising Young Woman. Il y en a aussi que je vais essayer de voir prochainement, Minari notamment. Mais je n’ai pas l’impression qu’il y ait de gros titres qui ont enflammé la planète cinéma comme par exemple Parasite, Once Upon a Time... in Hollywood ou même le divisif Joker l’an dernier.

J’ai vu Mank de David Fincher sur Netflix, j’ai trouvé ça correct, mais c’est loin d’être un film marquant pour moi. Je reviens quand même sur Nomadland, un de mes préférés de 2020 (même s’il ne sortira techniquement pas en salle au Québec avant avril 2021) - ce sera un bon moment de voir Chloé Zhao probablement remporter l’Oscar de la Meilleure réalisation. Il y a plein d’actrices et d’acteurs talentueux qui sont en nomination. Je serais content que Trent Reznor & Atticus Ross soient récompensés pour la musique de Soul. Je trouve ça plate que TENET de Christopher Nolan ait presque été complètement ignoré.

Mais dans l’ensemble, je suis assez indifférent face à tout ça. Je vais sûrement regarder le gala quand même, en espérant que ce ne soit pas un désastre avec des fenêtres Zoom comme les Golden Globes...

Best motion picture of the year

“The Father” David Parfitt, Jean-Louis Livi and Philippe Carcassonne, Producers

“Judas and the Black Messiah” Shaka King, Charles D. King and Ryan Coogler, Producers

“Mank” Ceán Chaffin, Eric Roth and Douglas Urbanski, Producers

“Minari” Christina Oh, Producer

“Nomadland” Frances McDormand, Peter Spears, Mollye Asher, Dan Janvey and Chloé Zhao, Producers

“Promising Young Woman” Ben Browning, Ashley Fox, Emerald Fennell and Josey McNamara, Producers

“Sound of Metal” Bert Hamelinck and Sacha Ben Harroche, Producers

“The Trial of the Chicago 7” Marc Platt and Stuart Besser, Producers

Achievement in directing

“Another Round” Thomas Vinterberg

“Mank” David Fincher

“Minari” Lee Isaac Chung

“Nomadland” Chloé Zhao

“Promising Young Woman” Emerald Fennell

Performance by an actor in a leading role

Riz Ahmed in “Sound of Metal”

Chadwick Boseman in “Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom”

Anthony Hopkins in “The Father”

Gary Oldman in “Mank”

Steven Yeun in “Minari”

Performance by an actor in a supporting role

Sacha Baron Cohen in “The Trial of the Chicago 7”

Daniel Kaluuya in “Judas and the Black Messiah”

Leslie Odom, Jr. in “One Night in Miami…”

Paul Raci in “Sound of Metal”

Lakeith Stanfield in “Judas and the Black Messiah”

Performance by an actress in a leading role

Viola Davis in “Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom”

Andra Day in “The United States vs. Billie Holiday”

Vanessa Kirby in “Pieces of a Woman”

Frances McDormand in “Nomadland”

Carey Mulligan in “Promising Young Woman”

Performance by an actress in a supporting role

Maria Bakalova in “Borat Subsequent Moviefilm: Delivery of Prodigious Bribe to American Regime for Make Benefit Once Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan”

Glenn Close in “Hillbilly Elegy”

Olivia Colman in “The Father”

Amanda Seyfried in “Mank”

Yuh-Jung Youn in “Minari”

Adapted screenplay

“Borat Subsequent Moviefilm: Delivery of Prodigious Bribe to American Regime for Make Benefit Once Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan” Screenplay by Sacha Baron Cohen & Anthony Hines & Dan Swimer & Peter Baynham & Erica Rivinoja & Dan Mazer & Jena Friedman & Lee Kern; Story by Sacha Baron Cohen & Anthony Hines & Dan Swimer & Nina Pedrad

“The Father” Screenplay by Christopher Hampton and Florian Zeller

“Nomadland” Written for the screen by Chloé Zhao

“One Night in Miami…” Screenplay by Kemp Powers

“The White Tigers” Written for the screen by Ramin Bahrani

Original screenplay

“Judas and the Black Messiah” Screenplay by Will Berson & Shaka King; Story by Will Berson & Shaka King and Kenny Lucas & Keith Lucas

“Minari” Written by Lee Isaac Chung

“Promising Young Woman” Written by Emerald Fennell

“Sound of Metal” Screenplay by Darius Marder & Abraham Marder; Story by Darius Marder & Derek Cianfrance

“The Trial of the Chicago 7” Written by Aaron Sorkin

Best international feature film of the year

“Another Round” Denmark

“Better Days” Hong Kong

“Collective” Romania

“The Man Who Sold His Skin” Tunisia

“Quo Vadis, Aida?” Bosnia and Herzegovina

Best animated feature film of the year

“Onward” Dan Scanlon and Kori Rae

“Over the Moon” Glen Keane, Gennie Rim and Peilin Chou

“A Shaun the Sheep Movie: Farmageddon” Richard Phelan, Will Becher and Paul Kewley

“Soul” Pete Docter and Dana Murray

“Wolfwalkers” Tomm Moore, Ross Stewart, Paul Young and Stéphan Roelants

Best documentary feature

“Collective” Alexander Nanau and Bianca Oana

“Crip Camp” Nicole Newnham, Jim LeBrecht and Sara Bolder

“The Mole Agent” Maite Alberdi and Marcela Santibáñez

“My Octopus Teacher” Pippa Ehrlich, James Reed and Craig Foster

“Time” Garrett Bradley, Lauren Domino and Kellen Quinn

Achievement in cinematography

“Judas and the Black Messiah” Sean Bobbitt

“Mank” Erik Messerschmidt

“News of the World” Dariusz Wolski

“Nomadland” Joshua James Richards

“The Trial of the Chicago 7” Phedon Papamichael

Achievement in film editing

“The Father” Yorgos Lamprinos

“Nomadland” Chloé Zhao

“Promising Young Woman” Frédéric Thoraval

“Sound of Metal” Mikkel E. G. Nielsen

“The Trial of the Chicago 7” Alan Baumgarten

Achievement in music written for motion pictures (Original score)

“Da 5 Bloods” Terence Blanchard

“Mank” Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross

“Minari” Emile Mosseri

“News of the World” James Newton Howard

“Soul” Trent Reznor, Atticus Ross and Jon Batiste

Achievement in production design

“The Father” Production Design: Peter Francis; Set Decoration: Cathy Featherstone

“Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom” Production Design: Mark Ricker; Set Decoration: Karen O’Hara and Diana Stoughton

“Mank” Production Design: Donald Graham Burt; Set Decoration: Jan Pascale

“News of the World” Production Design: David Crank; Set Decoration: Elizabeth Keenan

“Tenet” Production Design: Nathan Crowley; Set Decoration: Kathy Lucas

Achievement in costume design

“Emma” Alexandra Byrne

“Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom” Ann Roth

“Mank” Trish Summerville

“Mulan” Bina Daigeler

“Pinocchio” Massimo Cantini Parrini

Achievement in sound

“Greyhound” Warren Shaw, Michael Minkler, Beau Borders and David Wyman

“Mank” Ren Klyce, Jeremy Molod, David Parker, Nathan Nance and Drew Kunin

“News of the World” Oliver Tarney, Mike Prestwood Smith, William Miller and John Pritchett

“Soul” Ren Klyce, Coya Elliott and David Parker

“Sound of Metal” Nicolas Becker, Jaime Baksht, Michelle Couttolenc, Carlos Cortés and Phillip Bladh

Achievement in makeup and hairstyling

“Emma” Marese Langan, Laura Allen and Claudia Stolze

“Hillbilly Elegy” Eryn Krueger Mekash, Matthew Mungle and Patricia Dehaney

“Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom” Sergio Lopez-Rivera, Mia Neal and Jamika Wilson

“Mank” Gigi Williams, Kimberley Spiteri and Colleen LaBaff

“Pinocchio” Mark Coulier, Dalia Colli and Francesco Pegoretti

Achievement in visual effects

“Love and Monsters” Matt Sloan, Genevieve Camilleri, Matt Everitt and Brian Cox

“The Midnight Sky” Matthew Kasmir, Christopher Lawrence, Max Solomon and David Watkins

“Mulan” Sean Faden, Anders Langlands, Seth Maury and Steve Ingram

“The One and Only Ivan” Nick Davis, Greg Fisher, Ben Jones and Santiago Colomo Martinez

“Tenet” Andrew Jackson, David Lee, Andrew Lockley and Scott Fisher

Best documentary short film

“Colette” Anthony Giacchino and Alice Doyard

“A Concerto Is a Conversation” Ben Proudfoot and Kris Bowers

“Do Not Split” Anders Hammer and Charlotte Cook

“Hunger Ward” Skye Fitzgerald and Michael Scheuerman

“A Love Song for Latasha” Sophia Nahli Allison and Janice Duncan

Best animated short film

“Burrow” Madeline Sharafian and Michael Capbarat

“Genius Loci” Adrien Mérigeau and Amaury Ovise

“If Anything Happens I Love You” Will McCormack and Michael Govier

“Opera” Erick Oh

“Yes-People” Gísli Darri Halldórsson and Arnar Gunnarsson

Best live action short film

“Feeling Through” Doug Roland and Susan Ruzenski

“The Letter Room” Elvira Lind and Sofia Sondervan

“The Present” Farah Nabulsi

“Two Distant Strangers” Travon Free and Martin Desmond Roe

“White Eye” Tomer Shushan and Shira Hochman

Achievement in music written for motion pictures (Original song)

“Fight For You” from “Judas and the Black Messiah” Music by H.E.R. and Dernst Emile II; Lyric by H.E.R. and Tiara Thomas

“Hear My Voice” from “The Trial of the Chicago 7” Music by Daniel Pemberton; Lyric by Daniel Pemberton and Celeste Waite

“Husavik” from “Eurovision Song Contest: The Story of Fire Saga” Music and Lyric by Savan Kotecha, Fat Max Gsus and Rickard Göransson

“Io Sì (Seen)” from “The Life Ahead (La Vita Davanti a Se)” Music by Diane Warren; Lyric by Diane Warren and Laura Pausini

“Speak Now” from “One Night in Miami…” Music and Lyric by Leslie Odom, Jr. and Sam Ashworth

[sciatu]

Il quadro di Donna Franca Florio nella versione definitiva di Boldini : Boldini con alle spalle la seconda versione del quadro esposto a Venezia (nota quanto è bassa la spallina rispetto alla scollatura); La prima versione del quadro; Il vestito con cui venne ritratta; L’abito di perle e diamanti da dama di compagnia della regina Elena alla corte Piemontese;  Ritratto fotografico colorato di Donna Flora, Un altro abito di Donna Franca; Ritratto di Donna Florio come Dama di Compagnia della Regina Elena, Il ritratto di Donna Franca ai Quattro Pizzi, la sua ultima dimora a Palermo;  Particolare del volto di Donna Franca nel quadro di Boldini.

The painting by Donna Franca Florio in the final version by Boldini: Boldini with the second version of the painting displayed in Venice behind it (note how low the shoulder pad is compared to the neckline); The first version of the picture; The dress with which she was portrayed; Donna Franca’s pearl and diamond dress as queen of honor for Queen Elena at the Piedmont court; Colorful photographic portrait of Donna Flora, Another dress by Donna Franca; Detail of the face of Donna Franca in the painting by Boldini.

L’aiutante di campo imperiale, un giovane Junker alto, biondo con due baffi perfettamente allineati all’in su e una cicatrice sulla guancia sinistra che lo rivelava appartenere alla nobiltà militare prussiana,  si presentò alla nobildonna dicendo che sua altezza imperiale l’attendeva a palazzo ed lo aveva mandato  a prenderla con la sua macchina di rappresentanza. La nobildonna l’osservò con noncuranza e disse che si sarebbe preparata e di aspettare muovendosi con sensuale lentezza. L’aiutante di campo, fissando un punto lontano su muro per evitare di essere aggredito dalla femminilità della donna, aggiunse che sua altezza imperiale le aveva mandato in dono una tromba per automobile, una di quelle con un soffietto alla base che una volta schiacciato faceva emettere alla tromba un suono nasale. La nobildonna mosse un sopracciglio verso l’alto. Sua altezza imperiale il Kaiser Guglielmo che lei chiamava Willy, aveva un umorismo particolare. L’aiutante di campo, fissando il solito punto lontano le chiarì che con quella tromba sarebbero arrivati velocemente da sua altezza imperiale: al suo suono, chiunque fosse sulla strada doveva spostarsi di lato e lasciarli passare. La nobildonna scopri che era proprio cosi! Appena una carrozza o un carrettino sentiva la tromba, il cocchiere si spostava di lato fermandosi. Le strade affollate della caotica Berlino, al sentire il suono della tromba diventavano silenziose ed immobili. Le carrozze e le prime macchine attendevano di lato di essere superate, i borghesi sul marciapiede si fermavano e levatosi il cappello inchinavano il capo, le commesse uscivano dai negozi per vedere chi stava passando, i gendarmi sulla strada correvano agli incroci a fermare il traffico per far passare l’auto imperiale e si irrigidivano in un perfetto saluto militare. La nobildonna capì che il regalo del suo amico Willi consisteva nell’averla resa la donna più importante di Berlino. Sorrise divertita, in fondo lei era già la donna più importante d’Italia e sicuramente della Sicilia, perché lei era Franca Jacona della Motta dei Baroni di San Giuliano e quindi Donna Franca Florio, o, come il poeta D’Annunzio l’aveva chiamata, lei era “l’Unica”!

I Florio a quel tempo stavano lottando per salvare il loro (troppo) vasto impero economico. Avevano comunque ancora un prestigio enorme ed il sogno di rendere Palermo una città degna e paragonabile alle capitali nord Europee. Di questo sogno che suo cognato Vincenzo e suo marito Ignazio Florio perseguivano, lei, Donna Florio era la protagonista. Per questo motivo, nel rispetto del suo ruolo, come molte altre nobildonne italiane e straniere, Ignazio Florio decise che anche Donna Florio doveva essere ritratta dal famoso pittore Boldini e lo fece partire da Parigi per Palermo. Per questo motivo Donna Franca si presentò di fronte al famoso pittore con un vestito scuro, elegante, che la copriva fino al collo. Bodini l’osservò attentamente, incominciò a schizzare un bozzetto e poi incominciò a dipingere. Ora, un pittore dipinge quello che osserva, un grande pittore dipinge quello che vede, e Boldini era un grande pittore per cui, contrariamente alle altre nobildonne riccamente coperte da lussuosi vestiti, Bodini la spogliò.

Dicono che a vedere il quadro il marito Ignazio diede in escandescenze. Sua moglie non solo a spalle nude, ma con anche una spallina che le scendeva a metà del braccio ad evocare peccaminosi e lussuriosi atteggiamenti. Non che lui fosse un santo. La grande collezione di gioielli di Donna Franca nasceva dal fatto che ad ogni suo tradimento lui le regalava una spilla di smeraldi o una collana con 365 perle. Ma il vedere sua moglie nella sua solare, nobile e intensa sensualità sotto gli occhi di tutti lo aveva imbestialito. Pretese che il dipinto venisse modificato. Boldini, giocoforza, visto l’alto lignaggio dei committenti, modificò il quadro, cambiando alcune parti del vestito in modo da renderlo più moderno. Il quadro mostrato alla biennale di Venezia aumentò le ire di Ignazio: la spallina era ancora bassa e sua moglie sembrava quasi che stava per perdere il vestito. Alla fine il povero Boldini rivide una terza volta il quadro, rimuovendo i guanti scopri le braccia della nobildonna e rese ancor più moderno il vestito rendendola da dama del tardo 1800 a precorritrice della bella époque. Le spalline del vestito si alzarono a coprire le peccaminosamente spalle nude. Malgrado questo ritocco  nulla poteva nascondere la bellezza e l’eleganza di una donna che fu musa, esempio di eleganza e bellezza nonché il simbolo della “Palermo Felice” di inizio secolo.

Theaide-de-camp, a tall young Junker, blond with two mustaches perfectly aligned upwards and a scar on his left cheek that revealed him to belong to the Prussian military nobility, presented himself to the noblewoman saying that his imperial height was awaiting her at palace and sent him to take her with his representative car. The noblewoman observed it carelessly and said that she would be prepared and wait moving with sensual slowness. The adjutant, setting a distant point on the wall to avoid being attacked by the woman’s femininity, added that his imperial highness had sent her a car trumpet as a gift, one of those with a bellows at the base that once crushed was trumpet a nasal sound. The noblewoman raised an eyebrow upwards. His imperial highness the Kaiser Wilhelm. that  she called Willy, had a particular humor. The aide-de-camp, fixing the usual far point made it clear to her that with that trumpet they would arrive quickly from his imperial height: at his sound, whoever was on the road had to move sideways and let them pass. The noblewoman discovered that it was really so! As soon as a carriage or cart felt the trumpet, the coachman moved sideways, stopping. The crowded streets of chaotic Berlin, as they heard the sound of the trumpet, became silent and still. The carriages and the first cars waited on the side to be overcome, the bourgeois on the pavement stopped and raised their hat they bowed their heads, the salesgirls came out of the shops to see who was passing, the gendarmes on the road ran to the intersections to stop the traffic for let the imperial car pass and stiffen in perfect military salute. The noblewoman realized that her friend Willi’s gift was to have made her the most important woman in Berlin. She smiled amused, after all she was already the most important woman in Italy and certainly in Sicily, because she was Franca Jacona of the Motta dei Baroni of San Giuliano and then Donna Franca Florio, or, as the poet D'Annunzio had called her , she was “the Only One”! The Florio at that time were struggling to save their (too much) vast economic empire. However, they still had enormous prestige and the dream of making Palermo a city worthy of and comparable to the North European capitals. Donna Florio was the protagonist of this dream that her brother-in-law Vincenzo and her husband Ignazio Florio pursued. For this reason, respecting his role, like many other Italian and foreign noblewomen, Ignazio Florio decided that Donna Florio also had to be portrayed by the famous painter Boldini and had him leave Paris for Palermo. For this reason, Donna Franca presented herself in front of the famous painter with a dark, elegant dress that covered her up to her neck. Bodini observed it carefully, began to sketch a sketch and then began to paint. Now, a painter paints what he observes, a great painter paints what he sees, and Boldini was a great painter so, contrary to other noblewomen richly covered by luxurious clothes, Bodini undressed her. They say that to see the picture her husband Ignazio gave an outburst. His wife not only with bare shoulders, but also with a shoulder strap that came down in the middle of her arm to evoke sinful and lustful attitudes. Not that he was a saint. Donna Franca’s great jewelry collection was born from the fact that with every betrayal he  asked for forgiveness by giving themgave her an emerald brooch or a necklace with 365 pearls. But seeing his wife in his sunny, noble and intense sensuality before everyone’s eyes had infuriated him. He claimed that the painting was modified. Boldini, of course, given the high lineage of the patrons, modified the picture, changing some parts of the dress to make it more modern. The picture shown at the Venice Biennale increased Ignazio’s anger: the shoulder strap was still low and his wife looked as if he was about to lose his dress. In the end the poor Boldini saw the picture a third time, removing the gloves he covered the arms of the noblewoman and made the dress even more modern by making it the lady of the late 1800’s as a forerunner of the belle époque. The shoulder pads of the dress rose to cover the sinfully bare shoulders. Despite this retouching nothing could hide the beauty and elegance of a woman who was a muse, an example of elegance and beauty as well as the symbol of the “Happy Palermo” of the beginning of the century.

[trashexplorer]

BLCD Review: Escape Journey 2

Title: Escape Journey 2 (エスケープジャーニー 2)

Author/Artist: Ogeretsu Tanaka

Release Date: 2021/03/12

Cast:

Maeno Tomoaki x Nakazawa Masatomo

Furukawa Makoto

Yamashita Seiichirou

Hamano Daiki

Nobuyori Sagara

Synopsis: Escape Journey 2: I Did Not Deserve This Pain

Review Proper

Hello, I am back to reviewing BLCDs. I might be taking a little hiatus from scanning for a while ‘cause of the stress recent national elections events gave me, so might as well finish this log that’s gone on for too long lmao.

Anyway, onto the review.

You know, I knew what I signed up for. I was caught up with this when volume two was airing in the mag and stopped because it was too painful to continue. That was way back when I was a freshman in uni, I think, but I still haven’t finished volume two of the manga up until this day, so WHY DID I EVER THINK THAT LISTENING TO VOLUME TWO OF THE AUDIO ADAPTATION, KNOWING THAT IT WAS GONNA BE A CLIFFHANGER, WAS A GOOD IDEA?!

I don’t really have much to say about the plot since this isn’t the last installment, so we’ll dive straight into the technicalities.

Casting was perfect ‘cause hello??? Maeno x Nakazawa Masatomo??? AND WHO THE FUCK CASTED MAKONYAN TO BE THE THIRD WHEEL??? IT’S SO PERFECT, BUT WHY DO THIS??? I actually high-key low-key wanted Naoto to end up Nishina ‘cause first of all he has a big fucking

yea

and second of all, he’s not a rapist asshole with a rude ass family.

Here I said I wasn’t gonna talk about the plot. Anyway, Makonyan definitely sounds like he owns a goddamn 500cc and has been wanting that Tomo ass since time immemorial, so it’s perfect. Also, can we talk about how Hamano Daiki and Tomo loves Ogeretsu enough to the point of being cast repeatedly in their works. Daiki has three, the fuck.

As for the accuracy to the manga, since I used the magazine releases for the read-along, I got lost so many times lmao. The organization of the scenes were so different in the BLCD! There is a chance that Ogeretsu changed the order in the tankos, but the differences are so huge that I don’t think that’s likely. There were also a lot of cuts and adlibs, so it’s definitely not beginner friendly. To those still wanting to brave it, I’d suggest reading the mag or tank (whichever you have) before listening to the BLCD then reading it with the BLCD later. But to be completely honest, I won’t recommend listening to this right now. Again, it ends up at a cliff-hanger, and if, god-forbid, the studios take another five years to produce the last installment, it would hang you dry for a long ass time. Man, I don’t even know if I’d still be alive in 2026. 

[uneminuteparseconde]

Des concerts à Paris et alentour

Mai 13. Foals – Bataclan 14. Romain Berteau + Claus & Clausen + Borja Flames + Ambeyance (fest. Switch) – théâtre de Vanves 14. Erikm & Anthony Pateras + Dieb13 & Burkhard Stangl – Instants chavirés (Montreuil) 14. Ramona Cordova + Charlène Darling – Mains d'oeuvre (Saint-Ouen) 16. Saudaá Group + Orgue-Paysage – Fondation Cartier 16. Voiski + Myako & Basses Terres + Marylou (RA Paris) – Silencio 16. Franck Vigroux & Antoine Schmitt : "Chronostasis" + Quatuor Impact & Giani Caserotto + Open Women Orchestra (fest. Switch) – théâtre de Vanves 17. Crave + Zaltan & PAM + Full Circle + Low Jack + Oko dj + Clara3000 (RA Paris) – Dizonord (gratuit) 17. Ujjaya + Archétype – Salle Icare|Médiathèque (Vélizy-Villacoublay) (gratuit sur résa) 17. Philip Glass : Études pour piano – Salle Pierre-Boulez|Philharmonie 17. Jacco Gardner + Chris Cohen + Eerie Wanda + Tonn3rr3 + Discovery Zone (Le Beau fest.) – Trabendo 17. Hen Ogledd + Faune – Instants chavirés (Montreuil) 17. Inigo Kennedy + Möd4rn + Stephanie Sykes – Rex Club 17. Polar Inertia + Dement3d + Ninos Do Brasil + Lokier + A strange Wedding + Full Circle – La Machine 17. Surgeon + S.Y.R.O.B + DJ Jee + Cénile Technorama – NF-34 18. Bruce Brubaker & Max Cooper : Glasstronica – Cité de la musique|Philharmonie 18. Eliane Radigue : musique (diff.) pour "Continuum" de Félicie d'Estienne d'Orves – Centre Pompidou 18. Planningtorock – Gaîté lyrique 18. Thurston Moore +  HAHA Sounds Collective + L'Éclair + Luis Ake + Domotic + Pantin Plage (dj) (Le Beau fest.) – Trabendo 18. Croatian Amor + Re:Ni + dj Sacom + Hanah (RA Paris) – Badaboum 18. Brandt Brauer Frick + Collectif sin ~ + Axel Rigaud (fest. Switch) – théâtre de Vanves 18. Orphx + Konkurs (Blush Response & Sarin) + Blush Response + O/H – tba 18. Function + dj Deep + Lewis Fautzi – Concrete 19. DJ Sundae + Crystallmess + Betty + Toma Kami (RA Paris) – Concrete (gratuit) 19. Julien Claus – Ancienne Brasserie Bouchoule (Montreuil) (gratuit) 19. Commando Koko + The Soft Rider + We Will Woo ! – L'International 22. Housewives – Supersonic (gratuit) 23. Lots in Kiev + Thot + Brusque – Petit Bain 23. 1919 + Guerre froide + Pest Modern + Warum Joe – Gibus 24. Beak> + TVAM – Gaîté lyrique 24. Shonen Knife – Petit Bain 24. Antichildleague + Corps + Geography of Hell – Les Voûtes 24. Othello Aubern + City Dragon + None + Graal – Espace B 24. Felix Kubin & Hubert Zemler + Phuong Dan + RVDS & Best Boy Electric + Ron Morelli – La Station 24. Codex Empire + Dimitri Rivière + Nari Fshr + Sina XX b2b Munsinger – Petit Bain 25. Sydney Valette + Blind Delon + Ruines – Supersonic (gratuit) 25. Xeno & Oaklander + Automelodi + Void Vision – Petit Bain 25. Rebekah + Schwefelgelb + JKS + Regal + Parfait – tba 26. Jérôme Poret – Ancienne Brasserie Bouchoule (Montreuil) (gratuit) 26. New Berlin + Euromilliard – Pointe Lafayette 27. Me Donner + Somaticae + Nani ∞ Guru – Espace B 27. USA Nails + Dead Arms + Cohaagen – ESS'Pace 28. Alice in Chains + Black Rebel Motorcycle Club – Olympia ||COMPLET|| 29. Flotation Toy Warning + Raoul Vignal – Petit Bain 29. Unit Moebius + Scorpion violente + Prettiest Eyes (fest. Ideal Trouble) – La Station 29. Pizza Noise Mafia + Laz (Air Lqd & Lost Sound Bytes) + Bear Bones, Lay Low + Summer Satana + Tav Exotic + La Souris & l'éléphant + DJ Athome (fest. Ideal Trouble) – Centre Wallonie-Bruxelles 29. Big Brave + My Disco + Tu brûles mon esprit – Instants chavirés (Montreuil) 30. Cuntre (Lionel Fernandez & Nicolas Mazet) + Couloir Gang (fest. Ideal Trouble) – Le Zorba 30. AnD (dj) + Dyen + Parfait [Blawan + ABSL : ANNULÉ] – NF-34 31. François Bonnet + Knud Viktor + Jim O'Rourke + Florian Hecker (fest. Akousma) – Studio 104|Maison de la Radio 31. De Ambassade + Beau Wanzer + Anna Funk Damage + Le Matin + Bernardino Feminielli + Unas + Fiesta en el vecchio (fest. Ideal Trouble) – La Station

Juin 01. Eryck Abecassis & Reinhold Friedl + Hilde Marie Holsen + Anthony Pateras + Lucy Railton (fest. Akousma) – Studio 104|Maison de la Radio 01. Millimetric + Phase fatale + Terence Fixmer + Dersee + Raffaele Attanasio + 14Anger + Arnaud Rebotini & David Caretta – Studio de Lendit (La Plaine-Saint-Denis) 01/02. Metronomy + Laurent Garnier + Ricardo Villalobos + Mr Oizo + Bonobo (dj) + Yves Tumor + Marie Davidson + Pond + Sleaford Mods... (fest. We Love Green) – Bois de Vincennes 02. Bernard Parmegiani + Jean Schwarz (fest. Akousma) – Studio 104|Maison de la Radio 02. Vanishing Twin + Eye (fest. Ideal Trouble) – Lafayette Anticipations 04. Kurt Liedwart + Billy Roisz + Julien Ottavi + Eryck Abecassis – Instants chavirés (Montreuil) 05. Shellac – La Maroquinerie 05. Institute + Last Night + The Cherry Bones – L'International 05. Otzeki – Safari Boat 06. Tim Hecker & Konoyo Ensemble + Mondkopf + Kelly Moran (Villette sonique fest.) – Cabaret sauvage 06. Umwelt + Falhaber + VII Circle – NF-34 07. Danny Brown (Villette sonique fest.) – Périphérique 07. Constant Mongrel + Computerstaat + Warm Swords – Espace B 07. Kuss + HDN – La Plage|Glazart 08. Julia Holter + Cate Le Bon (Villette sonique fest.) – Trabendo 08. Deena Abdelwahed + David August + Ross from Friends + Objekt (dj) + Apollo noir (dj) (Villette sonique fest.) – Grande Halle 08. Thurston Moore Group + Modern Men – La Maroquinerie 08. Nova Materia + Maria Violenza + Aïsha Devi + Belmont Witch + Black Midi + Coucou Chloé + Front de cadeaux + Juan Wauters + Krampf (dj) + Musique chienne + Nyoko Dokbaë + Novelist + Shanti Celeste + Szun Waves + Wiki (Villette sonique fest.) – parc de la Villette (gratuit) 09. Fontaines DC + Crack Cloud + Efrim Menuck + Bracco + Mdou Moctar + Corridor + The Messthetics + Warm Drag + Borja Flames + Myako + Zaltan & Oko + Tiger Tiger + Sinkane 09. Stereolab + Jonathan Bree + Anémone (Villette sonique fest.) – Grande Halle 12. The Soft Moon – Safari Boat 12. Rouge Gorge – L'International 12. Matmos + John Wiese – Instants chavirés (Montreuil) 13. Minuit Machine + Hørd + Marble Slave – Supersonic (gratuit) 13. Christian Death + Little Nemo – Gibus 13. Fat White Family – Élysée Montmartre 13. The Horrorist + Poison Point + Melania + Philipp Strobel – NF-34 14/15. Jessica 93 + Year of No Light + Hangman's Chair + JC Satan + Vox Low + White Heat (15 ans de New Noise) – Trabendo 15. Karen Gwyer + Gudrun Gut + Dorit Chrysler joue Laurie Spiegel – Gaîté lyrique 15. Ensemble Citrouille + Félicie Bazealire + Foxtrt + Delphine Dora + Manolito + Anna Serra + Sophie Agnet & Olivier Benoit + Trans Aéolian Transmission + Hippie Diktat (fest. Les Oreilles libres) – Théâtre Les Thénardiers (Montreuil) 16. Siglo XX + The Arch – La Maroquinerie 16. Plaid – Petit Bain 16. Vomir + Straub Mocky + Achille + Strie + LV2 + Trans Kabar + Club Sieste (fest. Les Oreilles libres) – Théâtre Les Thénardiers (Montreuil) 18. Simon Whetham + Estelle Schorpp – Instants chavirés (Montreuil) 19. Stephen Malkmus & The Jicks – La Gaîté lyrique 21. Anne Clark : perf. pour "Ocean 21" de Maggie Boggaart – Auditorium Saint-Germain 22. The Intelligence + Flatworms – La Maroquinerie 22. LA Witch – Black Star 23. La Pince + Leon + Howdoyoudance + Polar Polar Polar Polar – Cirque électrique 26. Magma – Salle Pierre-Boulez|Philharmonie 26. Cannibale – Safari Boat 26. Caterina Barbieri + SKY H1 – La Gaîté lyrique 26. Pigalle – La Maroquinerie 26. Daniel Menche + Point invisible + Tzii – Instants chavirés (Montreuil) 27. Plomb + Perm36 + Pour X raisons – Cirque électrique 28. To Live & Shave in LA + Carrageenan + TTTT – Instants chavirés (Montreuil) 28/29. Rammstein – La Défense Arena (Nanterre) ||COMPLET||

Juillet 02. Interpol – Olympia 04. Cat Power + H-Burns (fest. Days off) – Salle Pierre Boulez|Philharmonie 05. Klimperei, Sacha Czerwone, David Fenech, Denis Frajerman & Christophe Micusnule – Chair de poule (gratuit) 05. Pantha du Prince + Scratch Massive (fest. Days off) – Cité de la musique|Philharmonie 05. I Hate Models + Jardin + Mount Kimbie + Oktober Lieber + Rodhad + Mor Elian + Olivia... (The Peacock Society fest.) – Parc floral 05. The B-52's – Olympia 05/06. The Psychotics Monks + La Jungle + Yachtclub + Zombie Zombie + Frustration + Fleuves noirs + Bruit noir + Le Singe blanc + Le Sacre du tympan + Enablers + Os Noctambulos + The Scanners... (fest. La Ferme électrique) 06. Jonsi & Alex Somers jouent "Riceboy Sleeps" (fest. Days off) – Salle Pierre Boulez|Philharmonie 06. Helena Hauff b2b DJ Stingray + Jon Hopkins + Motor City Drum Ensemble + Len Faki + Robert Hood + Octavian + The Black Madonna + Clara! + Nicola Cruz... (The Peacock Society fest.) – Parc floral 07. Jonsi, Alex Somers & Paul Corley : "Liminal Soundbath" (fest. Days off) – Cité de la musique|Philharmonie 07. Ministry – La Machine 07/08. Thom Yorke (fest. Days off) – Salle Pierre Boulez|Philharmonie 08. Gossip – Salle Pleyel 08. Melvins – La Plage|Glazart 11. Full of Hell + The Body + Pilori – Gibus 11. Masada + Sylvie Courvoisier & Mark Feldman + Mary Halvorson quartet + Craig Taborn + Trigger + Erik Friedlander & Mike Nicolas + John Medeski trio + Nova quartet + Gyan Riley & Julian Lage + Brian Marsella trio + Ikue Mori + Kris Davis + Peter Evans + Asmodeus : John Zorn's Marathon Bagatelles – Salle Pleyel 11. Flamingods + Warmduscher + Triptides (Garage MU fest.) – La Station 12. Tomaga + Утро + Tôle froide + Society of Silence + Sharif Lafrey + Elzo (dj) (Garage MU fest.) – La Station 11>13. Kraftwerk (fest. Days off) – Philharmonie 13. The Will Gregory Moog Ensemble (fest. Days off) – Le Studio|Philharmonie 13. Chloé & Vassilena Serafimova : "Sequenza" + Apparat (fest. Days off) – Cité de la musique|Philharmonie 13. La Récré (Garage MU fest.) – canal de l'Ourcq 13. Metz + Bo Ningen + Ashinoa + Die Ufer + Panstarrs (Garage MU fest.) – La Station 17. Grand Blanc – Safari Boat 18. Neurosis + Yob – Bataclan

Août 18. The Driver – But Mortemart|Bois de Boulogne 23>25. The Cure + Aphex Twin... (fest. Rock en scène) – parc de Saint-Cloud 26/27. Patti Smith – Olympia ||COMPLET|| 28. Arnaud Rebotini – Safari Boat

Septembre 05. Oh Sees – Bataclan 12. Blawan – NF-34 14. Clan of Xymox + Plomb – Gibus 14. Danny Elfman & le Grand Orchestre d'Ile-de-France : cinéconcert sur "Alice au Pays des merveilles" de Tim Burton – Salle Pierre Boulez|Philharmonie 20. Spiral Stairs + Canshaker Pi – Olympic café 23>25. John Cale – Cité de la musique|Philharmonie

Octobre 05. Nuit de l'orgue avec des œuvres d'Éliane Radigue, Arvo Pärt, Olivier Messiaen, Phillip Glass, Nico Muhly, Jonathan Fitoussi... (Nuit blanche) – Salle Pierre Boulez|Philharmonie (gratuit) 06. Daughters – La Maroquinerie 08. Sleep – Bataclan 09/10. Ty Segall & Freedom Band – La Cigale 11. New Order – Grand Rex 14. King Gizzard & Tle Lizard Wizard – Olympia 17. Puppetmastaz – Trabendo 18. Dream Syndicate – Petit Bain 19. Sisters of Mercy – Bataclan 19. Pixies – Olympia

Novembre 08. Bedroom Community – Cité de la musique|Philharmonie 08. Boy Harscher – Trabendo 10. Amiina : cinéconcert sur "Fantomas" de Louis Feuillade – Le Studio|Philharmonie 10. Ôlafur Atnald + Hugar – Salle Pierre Boulez|Philharmonie 17. Nitzer Ebb – La Machine 24. The Young Gods + Les Tétines noires – La Machine 26. Wardruna – Olympia

Décembre 06. Phillip Glass Ensemble : cinéconcert sur "Koyaanisqatsi" de Godfrey Reggio – Salle Pierre Boulez|Philharmonie 07. Phillip Glass Ensemble : cinéconcert sur "Powaqqatsi" de Godfrey Reggio – Salle Pierre Boulez|Philharmonie 08. Phillip Glass Ensemble : cinéconcert sur "Naqoyqatsi" de Godfrey Reggio – Salle Pierre Boulez|Philharmonie

2020

Janvier 04. Rokia Traoré + Ballaké Cissoko & Vincent Segal – Salle Pierre Boulez|Philharmonie

Février 16. Orchestral Manoeuvre in the Dark – La Cigale

Mars 07. Ensemble intercontemporain joue Steve Reich : cinéconcert sur un film de Gerhard Richter – Salle Pierre Boulez|Philharmonie 20. Ensemble Dedalus joue "Occam Ocean" d'Éliane Radigue – Le Studio|Philharmonie 21/22. Laurie Anderson : "The Art of Falling" – Cité de la musique|Philharmonie

Mai 08. Max Richter : "Infra" + Jlin + Ian William Craig – Cité de la musique|Philharmonie 09. Max Richter : "Voices" – Salle Pierre Boulez|Philharmonie 10. Max Richter : "Recomposed" & "Three Worlds" – Salle Pierre Boulez|Philharmonie 24. Damon Albarn – Salle Pierre Boulez|Philharmonie

en gras : les derniers ajouts / in bold: the last news

[zed-air]

CKUA - The Midway: 2018

______

The Midway was a special program which typically aired from 9:00am-12:00pm (or sometimes 10:00am-2:00) on CKUA from 2016-2019 during statutory holidays.

Click “keep reading” below for my 2018 Midway playlists.

Explore my playlist history for other dates and programs.

- - - - -

AIRTIME // TITLE // PERFORMING ARTIST // ALBUM

2018-02-19

^^ listener recommendation ++ selected from CKUA’s “house blend” playlist

09:00 // Monday Morning // Pulp // Different Class

09:06 // Cowboy Song // Thin Lizzy // Uncut Nov 2001

09:11 // Glory Hallelujah // The Give ‘Em Hell Boys // Barn Burner

09:19 // Navajo Rug // Ian Tyson // All the Good ‘Uns

09:21 // S Lazy H // Corb Lund // Things That Can’t Be Undone

09:29 // Winter // Celeigh Cardinal // Everything and Nothing At All

09:35 // Viva La Vida // Coldplay // Viva La Vida…

09:39 // Shop Around // Smoky Robinson & the Miracles // Motown Forever

09:43 // You Really Got a Hold on Me // The Beatles // With the Beatles

09:48 // Another Day // Paul McCartney // Wingspan

09:54 // I Was Born Under a Wandering Star // Lee Marvin // Paint Your Wagon

10:02 // Be There // Kimberley MacGregor // I Am My Own

10:06 // Mary Jane’s Last Dance // Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers // Greatest Hits

10:11 // Back in Black // AC/DC // Back in Black

10:18 // Rose of the Valley // Duane Eddy // Road Trip

10:21 // Like Water // Graftician // Wander/Weave ++

10:26 // No Wrong // Bahamas // No Wrong 45 ++

10:32 // Devil in Disguise // Elvis Presley // Hits

10:35 // Christine’s Tune // The Flying Burrito Bros // 20th C. Masters

10:38 // I’m No Elvis Presley // Lindi Ortega // Little Red Boots

10:42 // Pretty Thing // Michael Rault // Crash! Boom! Bang!

10:44 // Not Fade Away // The Rolling Stones // Grrr!

10:46 // Maggie’s Farm (live at Newport) // Bob Dylan // No Direction Home

10:52 // You Keep Me Hanging On // Vanilla Fudge // Classic Rock 1968

10:56 // Why Do You Love Me? // Jom Comyn // I Need Love

11:01 // Leaving the Table // Leonard Cohen // You Want It Darker

11:07 // Rabbit in Your Headlights // UNKLE & Thom Yorke // Psyence Fiction ^^

11:12 // My Soul’s in Louisiana // Otis Taylor //  ________ ^^

11:16 // Give Me a Sign // Edward Sharp & the Magnetic Zeroes // Give Me a Sign 45

11:20 // Distant Sky // Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds // Skeleton Tree

11:27 // He’ll Have To Go // Jim Reeves // Essential Jim Reeves ^^

11:30 // Once in a Lifetime // Talking Heads // Remain in Light

11:34 // Murder in the City (live) // The Avett Bros //  _________ ^^

11:39 // Love is the Drug // Roxy Music // The Collection ^^

11:43 // I’ll Take You There // The Staples Singers // Greatest Hits

11:48 // Fun Fun Fun // The Beach Boys // Good Vibrations

11:50 // Do You Remember Rock & Roll Radio? // The Ramones // Greatest Hits

11:55 // Memories // Leonard Cohen // Death of a Ladies’ Man

- - - - -

2018-03-30

^^ listener recommendation ++ selected from CKUA’s “house blend” playlist

09:00 // Friday on My Mind // The Easybeats // Greatest Hits

09:05 // Walk of Life // Dire Straits // Greatest Hits

09:09 // Walk on the Wild Side // Lou Reed // Transformer

09:14 // Love Minus Zero // The Walker Bros // Take It Easy With the WB

09:17 // All Along the Watchtower // Jimi Hendrix // Electric Ladyland

09:21 // When the Ship Comes In // The Hollies // Hollies Sing Dylan

09:24 // Here’s That Rainy Day // Bob Dylan // Triplicate

09:31 // Laugh Laugh // The Beau Brummels // Greatest Hits

09:36 // No Surprises // Radiohead // OK Computer

09:39 // You Don’t Scare Me // Whitney Rose // Rule 62

09:44 // Come To Me // Sue Foley // The Ice Queen

09:48 // I Ain’t Cool // The Sheepdogs // Changing Colours ^^

09:52 // Bad Bad News // Leon Bridges // Good Thing

09:56 // Ain’t That Good News // Sam Cooke // Ain’t That Good News

10:03 // The Priests of Golden Bull // Buffy Sainte-Marie // Medicine Songs

10:09 // Whiskey // Joey Landreth // Whiskey EP

10:12 // Bad Bad Man // The Give ‘Em Hell Boys // Barn Burner

10:16 // After Midnight // Eric Clapton // Complete Clapton

10:19 // Give Me One Reason // Tracy Chapman // _____

10:24 // Still Crazy After All These Years // Paul Simon // The Essential

10:28 // The Addams Family Theme // Vic Mizzy // Greatest Hits of TV

10:31 // Winter // Celeigh Cardinal // Everything and Nothing At All

10:37 // Go // Kimberley MacGregor // I Am My Own

10:42 // Everybody’s Coming To My House // David Byrne // American Utopia

10:47 // I Wanna Prove To You // The Lemon Twigs // Do Hollywood

10:51 // This Winter Revisited // F&M // ______ ^^

10:54 // North To Alaska // Johnny Horton // The Essential

10:58 // I Can See For Miles // The Who // The Who Sell Out ^^

11:02 // Shining in the Distance // The Stray Birds // Magic Fire

11:08 // When You Ain’t Home // Lindi Orgega // Faded Gloryville

11:12 // I Don’t Know Why I Love You But I Do // Clarence “Frogman” Henry // Collected Works

11:14 // Heroes (live) // King Crimson // DGM Live

11:20 // Goldfinger // Bill Frisell & Thomas Morgan // Small Town

11:26 // Secret Love // Nels Cline // Lovers

11:30 // Zoot Allures // Frank Zappa // Zoot Allures

11:34 // 13 Engines // What If We Don’t Get What We Want? // _____ ^^

11:38 // Nedayeh Bahar // Habibi // Cardamom Garden

11:41 // Disarray // Preoccupations // New Material

11:45 // Say it Louder // Nathaniel Rateliff & the Night Sweats // Tearing at the Seams

11:49 // Don’t Stop Me Now // Queen // Greatest Hits

11:52 // Heart of Oak // Richard Hawley // Hollow Meadows

11:56 // Goodbye Stranger // Supertramp // Retrospectacle

- - - - -

2018-05-21

Today’s theme: because Victoria Day falls between Mothers’ Day and Fathers’ Day, the theme of this program is going to be parents & music. I want to hear from you. Get in touch with names of formative songs your parents introduced to you, and/or songs you introduced to your parents that turned their cranks.

^^ listener recommendation ++ selected from CKUA’s “house blend” playlist

09:00 // Monday Morning // Pulp // Different Class

09:06 // Victoria // The Kinks // Arthur

09:09 // These Days Is Coming Soon // The Lemon Twigs // Do Hollywood

09:12 // Today // Jefferson Airplane // Surrealistic Pillow

09:17 // Somebody That I Used To Know // Gotye // Making Mirrors

09:21 // Masseduction // St. Vincent // Masseduction

09:25 // Physical // Juliana Hatfield // Sings Songs of Olivia Newton John

09:30 // We’ve Come This Far // Sloan // Commonwealth

09:34 // Just Like Romeo & Juliet // Sha-Na-Na // __________

09:37 // Romeo & Juliet // Dire Straits // Priviate Investigations

09:45 // Four Out of Five // Arctic Monkeys // Tranquility Base Hotel & Casino

09:51 // Treat Her Right // Mr. T. // Greatest Hits

09:55 // Axel F. // Angela Dubeau & La Pieta // __________

10:01 // Nunca Es Suficiente; Natalia Lafourcade; Hasta la Raiz

10:06 // Layla (Strange Brew) // Le Onde Blu // Italy 1960s Beat

10:10 // Nessuno Mi Puo Guidicare // Gene Pitney // Definitive Collection

10:13 // Save the Last Dance for Me // The Shanes // Anthology

10:16 // California Sun // Ola & the Janglers // Swedish Rock & Roll Hits

10:19 // She Taught Me to Yodel // The Scarlets // Collection

10:22 // Boys Night Out // Johnny Reimar // Greatest Hits

10:24 // A Swinging Safari // Bert Kaempfert // Classics

10:29 // My Bonnie // Tony Sheridan & the Beat Bros // Tony Sheridan & the Silver Beatles

10:34 // Why Do You Have To Break My Heart Again? // The School // Reading Too Much Into Things

10:38 // Neon Lights // Kraftwerk // The Man-Machine

10:42 // Das Model // The Cardigans // B-Sides

10:47 // Wipeout // The Eliminators // Planetary Pebbles - Behind the Iron Curtain, vol 1

10:50 // Crazy Guitars // Boomerangs // Planetary Pebbles - Behind the Iron Curtain, vol 1

10:52 // Can Can // Can // Singles

10:57 // Lakes of Mars // Doug Hoyer // Walks With the Tender & Growing Night

11:01 // Hello in There // John Prine // Souveniers ^^

11:09 // Carry Me // The Stampeders // Best of ^^

11:12 // Ghost Riders in the Sky // Gene Autry // Essential ^^

11:16 // I’ve Been Everywhere // Hank Snow // Essential ^^

11:20 // Happy Brasilia // James Last // __________ ^^

11:24 // Crazy Train // Ozzy Osbourne // Anthology ^^

11:27 // Oxygene II // Jean-Michel Jarre // Oxygene ^^

11:30 // Froggy Went a-Courtin’ // Red Allen // Essential ^^

11:35 // Welcome to Earth (Pollywog) // Sturgill Simpson // A Sailor’s Guide to Earth ^^

11:40 // Late Night Radio // Gary Brown // __________ ^^

11:45 // A Sweet Beginning Like This // Fats Waller // Anthology ^^

11:49 // You Make Me Feel Like Dancing // Leo Sayer // You Make Me Feel Like Dancing

11:52 // Twist & Shout // The Isley Bros // Essential

11:55 // End of the Line // Traveling Wilburys // Vol 1

- - - - -

2018-07-02

Due to some scheduling kerfuffles at the station, the July 2, 2018 instalment of The Midway will last longer and start a whole lot earlier! Coming to your receivers from 6AM-10AM MST, tune in for our post-Canada Day extravaganza.

The theme of this episode is a simple one: what is the best Canadian artist/song you’ve discovered in 2018? It can be a new release, or any Canadian that you weren’t previously aware of - regardless of era.

^^ listener recommendation ++ selected from CKUA’s “house blend” playlist

06:00 // Monday Morning // Pulp // Different Class

06:06 // Changing Times // Iwan Rheon // Changing Times single

06:10 // Hippy Hippy Shake // Chan Romero // USA Roots of the UK Invasion

06:12 // The Devil in His Heart // The Donays // USA Roots of the UK Invasion

06:15 // Twist & Shout // The Isley Bros // Essential

06:19 // Robotic // Hannah Georgas // Hannah Georgas

06:23 // Crash Years // The New Pornographers // Together

06:31 // Psychopath // St. Vincent // STV

06:36 // Summer Sounds // Robert Goulet // Summer Sounds

06:38 // Under the Boardwalk // The Drifters // Greatest Hits

06:40 // Summer Holiday // Cliff Richard & the Shadows // Summer Holiday

06:45 // Suck It and See // The Arctic Monkeys // Suck It and See

06:48 // Street Life // Roxy Music // Collection

06:51 // Everybody’s Coming To My House // David Byrne

06:56 // Houses of the Holy // Led Zeppelin // Houses of the Holy

07:03 // Troubled Mind // Dan Mangan // Troubled Mind single

07:08 // Wendy // The Beach Boys // Good Vibrations

07:11 // Gorilla Song // Sha-Na-Na // Greatest Hits

07:13 // Bananaphone // Raffi // Bananaphone

07:16 // Carry On // Coeur de Pirate // Roses

07:19 // Breaking Down // Florence & the Machine // Ceremonials

07:23 // Stepping Out // Joe Jackson // Night and Day

07:32 // Everything // Celeigh Cardinal // Everything and Nothing At All

07:35 // Tommaso // nehiyawak // Tommaso single

07:39 // My Back Pages // Marshall Crenshaw // Bleecker Street

07:44 // Only a Pawn in the Game // Bob Dylan // The Times They Are A-Changin’

07:48 // The Godfather Waltz // Nino Rota // The Godfather Soundtrack

07:53 // Wish You Were Here // Pink Floyd // Wish You Were Here

08:01 // Radio // Client // City

08:05 // Radio, Radio // Elvis Costello // This Year’s Model

08:08 // Shape Shifter // Lera Lynn // Resistor

08:12 // In the Aeroplane Over the Sea // Neutral Milk Hotel // In the Aeroplane Under the Sea

08:17 // Maybe Tonight // Nicole Atkins // Neptune City

08:21 // Girl Don’t Come // Sandie Shaw // Hits of the 1960s

08:24 // I Only Want To Be With You // Dusty Springfield // Hits of the 1960s

08:26 // Moonshiner’s Daughter // Rhiannon Giddens // Factory Girl

08:31 // Decomposing Composers // Monty Python // Monty Python Sings

08:35 // Girl From Ipanema // Stan Getz & Astrud Gilberto // Super Samba

08:39 // Xanadu // Juliana Hatfield // J.H. Sings Olivia Newton John

08:43 // I Wanna Prove To You // The Lemon Twigs // Do Hollywood

08:48 // Depth of My Soul // Thievery Corporation // Saudade

08:51 // No More Disguises // Thievery Corporation // Saudade

08:56 // You’re Nobody ‘Til Somebody Loves You // Dinah Washington // Blue Box 2

09:01 // O Canada // Osyron // O Canada (music video)

09:04 // Who Do You Love? // Ronnie Hawkins & the Hawks // Rock & Roll Originals ++

09:07 // One Foot // Doug Hoyer // To Be a River ^^

09:10 // Glory // Layten Kramer // Glory ++

09:15 // Always For You // J.J. Shiplett // Something To Believe In ^^

09:19 // You Don’t Scare Me // Whitney Rose // Rule 62 ^^

09:25 // Norwegian Wood // Greenwich, Breau, Bickert // Toronto Sessions ^^

09:31 // Changes // Gordon Lightfoot // Original Lightfoot

09:33 // Been Waiting // The Flashing Lights // Sweet Release ^^

09:40 // The Silent // The Bolt Actions // TBA EP

09:42 // Don’t Wanna Hear It // Lindi Ortega // Cigarettes & Truckstops ^^

09:45 // Bye Bye Blackbird // Ringo Starr // Sentimental Journey

09:48 // Blackbird // The Beatles // The Beatles

09:51 // End of the Line // The Traveling Wilburys // Volume 1

09:54 // I’ll Be Seeing You // Francoise Hardy & Iggy Pop // Triple Best

- - - - -

TITLE // PERFORMING ARTIST // ALBUM // AIRTIME

2018-08-06 - 09:00-12:00

The theme of this episode: what recent folk-festival performance/performer has astonished you? It can be during the current festival season. It can be an artist you’ve loved for years, or someone you’ve only just discovered.

^^ listener recommendation ++ selected from CKUA’s “house blend” playlist

Monday Morning // Pulp // Different Class // Mon 09:01

Maggie’s Farm (live Newport ‘65) // Bob Dylan // The Bootleg Series Vol. 7 // Mon 09:06

Polka Dot Undies // Bowser & Blue // Polka Dot Undies (Single) // Mon 09:12AM

Let The Good Times Roll // JD McPherson // Let The Good Times Roll // Mon 09:17AM

Country House // Blur // ______ // Mon 09:20

Rockaway Beach // Ramones // Loud, Fast Ramones // Mon 09:25AM

Do You Need My Love // Weyes Blood // Front Row Seat To Earth // Mon 09:30AM

Surrender // kd lang // Tomorrow Never Dies Soundtrack // Mon 09:36AM

Underneath the Mango Tree // Diana Coupland & Monty Norman // Dr. No Soundtrack // Mon 09:40AM

Nobody Does It Better // Carly Simon // Clouds In My Coffee: 1965-1995 // Mon 09:43AM

You And Whose Army? // Radiohead // Amnesiac // Mon 09:48AM

Four Out Of Five // Arctic Monkeys // Tranquility Base Hotel & Casino // Mon 09:54AM

She’s Electric // Oasis // (What’s The Story) Morning Glory // Mon 10:02AM

Lille (live at EFMF 2013) // Lisa Hannigan // Live at the CKUA Tent // Mon 10:09AM

Driver’s Seat // Sniff ‘n’ the Tears // Driver’s Seat single // Mon 10:12AM

Breakfast at the Ace // The Rapiers // The Rapiers // Mon 10:16AM

Ford Fairlane // Confusionaires // Make a Little Mess With the Confusionaires // Mon 10:22AM

Big Sunglasses // Dylan Farrell // Blues Before // Mon 10:24AM

Would You Be My Dog? // Celeigh Cardinal // Everything And Nothing At All // Mon 10:30AM

Bizarre Love Triangle // Give 'Em Hell Boys // Barn Burner // Mon 10:34AM

City Lights // King Of Foxes // Golden Armour // Mon 10:38AM

Rock Pool // Cate Le Bon // Rock Pool EP // Mon 10:42AM

Twisting By The Pool // Dire Straits // Twisting By The Pool // Mon 10:47AM

Enola Gay // OMD // Organization // Mon 10:51AM

Bad Luck // Neko Case // Bad Luck (Single) // Mon 10:59AM

Total Eclipse // Klaus Nomi // Klaus Nomi // Mon 11:06AM

From a Logical Point of View // Robert Mitchum // Calypso is Like So // Mon 11:07AM

Phenomenal Woman // Ruthie Foster // The Phenomenal Ruthie Foster // Mon 11:12AM ^^

Gotta Serve Somebody // Mavis Staples // Tangled Up In Blues: Songs Of Bob Dylan // Mon 11:16AM ^^

Mr. Monday // Kobo Town // Jumbie In The Jukebox // Mon 11:22AM ^^

The Letter // Joe Cocker // Sounds Of The Seventies: 1970 // Mon 11:26AM ^^

Steppin’ Out // Joe Jackson // Night and Day // Mon 11:32AM ^^

Preachin’ To The Choir // Rodney Crowell // Fate’s Right Hand // Mon 11:37AM ^^

You Can’t Judge a Book by the Cover // William Prince // You Can’t Judge a Book by the Cover // Mon 11:43AM ^^

And I Love Her // Passenger // The Boy Who Cried Wolf // Mon 11:46AM ^^

And I Love Her // The Beatles // A Hard Day’s Night // Mon 11:51AM

End Of The Line // The Traveling Wilburys // Traveling Wilburys Collection // Mon 11:53AM

I’ll Be Seeing You // Francoise Hardy & Iggy Pop // Triple Best // Mon 11:56AM

- - - - -

2018-09-03 - 09:00-12:00

The theme of this episode: what is one of your essential live albums? It can be new, old, filled with cheating overdubs, lo-fi, hi-fi, whatever!

^^ listener recommendation ++ selected from CKUA’s “house blend” playlist ~~ today’s featured album: Richard Hawley’s Live at the Devi’s Arse

Monday Morning // Pulp // Different Class // Mon 09:01AM

Maggie’s Farm (live at Newport Folk 1965) // Bob Dylan // No Direction Home // Mon 09:07AM

Goldfinger // Bill Frisell & Thomas Morgan // Small Town // Mon 09:14AM

Four Out Of Five // Arctic Monkeys // Tranquility Base Hotel & Casino // Mon 09:19AM

Oliver Cromwell // Monty Python // Sings // Mon 09:28AM

Reelin’ In The Years // Steely Dan // Can’t Buy A Thrill // Mon 09:30AM

Help Me Rhonda // The Beach Boys // Good Vibrations: 30 Years Of The // Mon 09:36AM

Hideaway // John Mayall’s Bluesbreakers // Bluesbreakers with Eric Clapton // Mon 09:39AM

Going Down // Freddie King // Ultimate Collection // Mon 09:43AM

Steppin’ Out // Memphis Slim // Rockin’ the Blues // Mon 09:46AM

Shake Your Money Maker // Paul Butterfield Blues Band // Paul Butterfield Blues Band // Mon 09:51AM

Darlin’ // Richard Hawley // Live at the Devil’s Arse // Mon 09:54AM ~~

The Devil in Disguise // Richard Hawley // Live at the Devil’s Arse // Mon 09:57AM ~~

Ain’t That a Shame // Cheap Trick // Live at Budokan // Mon 10:06AM

Hot Rod Lincoln // Commander Cody // 70s Classics // Mon 10:15AM

Rambler // The Madmen // Swedish Rock & Roll Hits // Mon 10:16AM

Pistoleros // The Shanes // The Shanes Anthology // Mon 10:17AM

Satumaa // Reijo Taipale // Satumaa 45 // Mon 10:22AM

Satumaa // Frank Zappa & the Mothers // You Can’t Do That on Stage Anymore 2 // Mon 10:25AM

Impossible Germany (live, 2012) // Wilco // Ashes of the American Flag // Mon 10:31AM

I Wonder If Care As Much // Richard Hawley with Lynn & Jean // Live at the Devil’s Arse // Mon 10:40AM  ~~

Lille (live at CKUA Tent, EFMF 2013) // Lisa Hannigan // Live at EFMF 2013 // Mon 10:45AM

Distant Sky // Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds // Distant Sky Live in Copenhagen // Mon 11:51AM

Smoke on the Water // Deep Purple // Made in Japan // Mon 11:00AM

Comfortably Numb // Roger Waters & Van Morrison // The Wall Live // Mon 11:10AM ^^

That Silver Haired Daddy of Mine // Simon & Garfunkel // Live 1969 // Mon 11:14AM ^^

Folsom Prison Blues // Merle Haggard // Live // Mon 11:19AM ^^

New Favourite // Alison Krauss & Union Station // Live // Mon 11:25AM ^^

Murder By Numbers // Sting & Friends // Broadway the Hard Way // Mon 11:29AM ^^

Do You Feel Like I Do? // Peter Frampton // Frampton Comes Alive // Mon 11:31 ^^

Lakes of Mars // Doug Hoyer // REC-YEG Concert Sessions 2012 // Mon 11:39AM

1952 Vincent Black Lightnight // Reckless Kelly // R.K. Was Here // Mon 11:47AM ^^

Just Like the Rain // Richard Hawley // Live at the Devil’s Arse // Mon 11:48AM ~~

That’ll Be the Day // Cliff Richard & the Shadows // The Rock & Roll Years // Mon 11:52AM

Don’t Ever Change // The Beatles // Live at the BBC // Mon 11:54AM

I’ll Be Seeing You // Francoise Hardy & Iggy Pop // Triple Best // Mon 11:58AM

- - - - -

2018-10-08 - 09:00-12:00

The theme of this episode: a smorgasbord of tunes - food, mood, and gratitude. We’ll also feature some leftovers - songs which listeners recommended for earlier editions of The Midway, but which were not broadcast when received due to time constraints or other impediments. Sharing a feast for the ears.

^^ listener recommendation ++ selected from CKUA’s “house blend” playlist

Monday Morning // Pulp // Different Class // Mon 09:01AM

Hi Hello // Johnny Marr // Hi Hello // Mon 09:07AM

The Right Stuff // Noel Gallagher // Chasing Yesterday // Mon 09:12AM

Snow Bank // Doug Hoyer // Walks With the Tender & Growing Night // Mon 09:19AM

Strawberry Fields Forever // The Beatles // Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club // Mon 09:27AM

Strawberry Cake // Johnny Cash // Strawberry Cake // Mon 09:35AM

You Don’t Scare Me // Whitney Rose // Rule 62 // Mon 09:38AM

The White Witch // Ivoux // Frozen // Mon 09:43AM

Winter // Celeigh Cardinal // Everything And Nothing At All // Mon 09:48AM

Dunes // Alabama Shakes // Sound And Color // Mon 09:55AM

Satin Devil // Dirty Dirty Devils // Dirty Dirty Devils // Mon 10:04AM

Help Me // Joni Mitchell // Hits // Mon 10:08AM

My Favorite Things // John Coltrane // _____ // Mon 10:11AM

Big Rock Candy Mountain // Harry McClintock // O Brother, Where Art Thou? // Mon 10:14AM

Morning Has Broken // Yusuf / Cat Stevens // The Very Best Of Cat Stevens // Mon 10:17AM ^^

Blame It On the Bossa Nova // Eydie Gorme // Greatest Hits // Mon 10:21AM

Telstar // The Tornados // The Tornados // Mon 10:23AM

Telstar (Original Demo) // Joe Meek // Joe Meek Anthology // Mon 10:28AM

Take a Bow // Muse // Black Holes & Revelations // Mon 10:31AM

Money // The Backbeat Band // Backbeat Soundtrack // Mon 10:40AM

Rockaway Beach // Ramones // Loud, Fast Ramones // Mon 10:42AM

Those Lazy Hazy Crazy Days of Summer // Nat King Cole // Greatest Hits // Mon 10:45AM

Crocodile Rock // Elton John // Greatest Hits // Mon 10:47AM

Money // Pink Floyd // The Dark Side Of The Moon // Mon 10:53AM

Statesboro Blues (Live) // The Allman Bros Band // At Fillmore East // Mon 11:01AM ^^

The Tourist Song // Brad Bucknell & the oHNo Band // self-titled // Mon 11:06AM

Wiggle Wiggle // Bob Dylan // Under a Red Sky // Mon 11:11AM

Bad Guy // Jesse & The Dandelions // True Blue // Mon 11:14AM ^^

Danceland (Come With Me) // The Garrys // Surf Manitou // Mon 11:17AM

Loneliness // Rebekah Higgs // Sha La La // Mon 11:21AM

Trigger // The New Haunts // The New Haunts // Mon 11:25AM ^^

I Wanna Thank You // Sloan // Navy Blues // Mon 11:29AM ^^

Sometimes You Feel Like a Nut // Almond Joy // Vintage Commercials // Mon 11:35AM

Fireworks // First Aid Kit // Ruins // Mon 11:37AM

The Way It Is // Nicole Atkins // Neptune City // Mon 11:44AM

Ice Dance // Danny Elfman // Edward Scissorhands Soundtrack // Mon 11:47AM

Apple Tree // The Hearts // ______ // Mon 11:49AM

Blistered // That Pedal Show Band // Blistered // Mon 11:56AM

I’ll Be Seeing You // Francoise Hardy & Iggy Pop // Triple Best // Mon 11:58AM

- - - - -

2018-11-12 - 09:00-12:00

^^ listener recommendation ++ selected from CKUA’s “house blend” playlist

Monday Morning // Pulp // Different Class // Mon 09:00AM

Lollipop (Ode To Jim) // Alvvays // Antisocialites // Mon 09:05AM

Danceland (Come With Me) // The Garrys // Surf Manitou // Mon 09:09AM

Christmas All Over Again // Tom Petty // A Very Special Christmas 2 // Mon 09:13AM

I Will // The Beatles // The Beatles (Stereo Remaster) // Mon 09:20AM

Is He Really Coming Home? // The School // Loveless Unbeliever // Mon 09:22AM

The Spell of City Lights // J.D. McPherson // ______ // 09:25AM

The Future Age // The Hearts // Equal Love // Mon 09:30AM

Arnold Layne // The Pink Floyd // Arnold Layne 45 // Mon 09:34AM

Anne of 1000 Days // John Moore // Knickerbocker Glory // Mon 09:42AM

Journey // Sarah Nixey // Night Walks // Mon 09:44AM

Start As You Mean To Go On // Black Box Recorder // The Facts of Life // Mon 09:47AM

Xanadu // Juliana Hatfield // Sings the Songs of Olivia Newton John // Mon 09:53AM

Africa // Weezer // Africa // Mon 10:00AM

Hold the Line // Osyron // Hold the Line // Mon 10:05AM

Do You Remember Rock ‘N’ Roll Radio // Ramones // Greatest Hits // Mon 10:09AM

Breaking Down // Florence & The Machine // Ceremonials // Mon 10:13AM

Time Of The Season // The Zombies // Pop Music: The Golden Era 1951-1 // Mon 10:19AM

True Love Ways // Peter & Gordon // Greatest Hits // Mon 10:23AM

Wonderful Land // The Shadows // Shadows Are Go! // Mon 10:25AM

Midnight // The Shadows // Shadows Are Go! // Mon 10:27AM

While My Guitar Gently Weeps // The Beatles // White Album // Mon 10:31AM

(Nice Dream) // Radiohead // The Bends // Mon 10:37AM

A Boat Lies Waiting // David Gilmour // Rattle That Lock // Mon 10:41AM

Get Ready // The Temptations // The Motown Box // Mon 10:48AM

Did You Feed My Cow? // Sharon, Lois, and Bram // Smorgasboard // Mon 10:50AM

Damn Tattoo // John Wort Hannam // Brambles And Thorns // Mon 10:54AM

Little White Lines // Sweet Vintage Rides // Road Trip // Mon 10:58AM

Time Is Tight // Booker T. & The MG’s // Beg Scream & Shout!: The Big Ol’ // Mon 11:02AM

Take Me Home, Country Roads // John Denver // Behind The Music: The John Denver // Mon 11:07AM

Imagine // Neil Young // ______ // 11:10AM

This Magic Moment // Lou Reed // Lost Highway Soundtrack // Mon 11:13AM

You Belong To Me // Jo Stafford // Pop Music: The Golden Era 1951-1 // Mon 11:18AM

Lodestar // Sarah Harmer // You Were Here // Mon 11:21AM

Crosstown Traffic // Jimi Hendrix // Electric Ladyland // Mon 11:28AM

Quickstep Medley: I’m a Believer, Simon Smith & his Dancing Bear, The Happening, Georgie Girl // Joe Loss & His Orchestra // Top Pop Dance Time

Tous les garcons et les filles // Francoise Hardy // Tous les garcons et les filles // Mon 11:38AM

My Autumn’s Done Come // Hooverphonic // Sit Down and Listen // Mon 11:41AM

Darlin’ (live 2008) // Richard Hawley // Live at the Devil’s Arse // Mon 11:47AM

Memories // Leonard Cohen // Death of a Ladies’ Man // Mon 11:50AM

I’ll Be Seeing You // Francoise Hardy & Iggy Pop // Triple Best // Mon 11:57AM

[trajets]

Trajet de Eskimo

Eskimo n’en finit pas de brouiller les pistes avec délectation. Un chant en anglais, français, japonais ou coréen, une voix impressionniste, des musiques qui ne veulent pas choisir entre pop et jazz, un univers riche et singulier, exigeant mais accessible : tout ce qui constitue le 1er album “Que faire de son cœur ?“ sorti en début d’année 2020. Pour Trajets, nous suivons Marie, l’âme du projet Eskimo, au gré de ses voyages et des concerts auxquels elle assiste, comme autant de jalons géographiques et musicaux.

Eskimo © Indira Dominici

MON ENFANCE sera baignée par la musique de mon Père qui écoutait avant tout Bach, Monteverdi mais également Michel Portal, Eddy Louis, Ferrat, Messiaen, Simon & Garfunkel et Pink Floyd surtout dans la voiture. Et quand il mettait ça pour partir en vacances dans l’auto j’étais déjà loin dans mon esprit.

Ces deux morceaux je les ai écouté tellement de fois avec lui. J’ai le même ressenti à leur sujet : Ils sont énigmatiques et beaux.

1/ EDDY LOUIS - Blue for Kook https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9t1ganCGlQ4

2/ MICHEL PORTAL - Mozambic https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z3LMTYNotGY

MON ENFANCE dans ma chambre se résume surtout aux Platters, ils m’ont submergé d’émotion en les écoutant. Et quelque chose s’est produit dans ma tête tel un déclic. Je chantais déjà tout le temps mais il y a  eu un avant et un après.

3/ THE PLATTERS - My prayer https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DE0UMnrQBD0

4/ TINA TURNER AND IKE - Proud Mary https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hzQnPz6TpGc

Ella Fitzgerald, James Brown qui étaient sur une compile que j’avais trouvé et qui trainait dans la maison. Et j’écoutais tout ça en boucle.  

5/ ELLA FITZGERALD - Stormy Weather https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=teXOPAFMOp0

Petite, j’allais à la danse. La première année où il y eut un gala, j’avais dansé sur  Moments of love de Art of Noise et The Race de Yello qui avaient été mixé ensemble pour notre prestation. Et je me souviens encore du début des pas. J’adorais tellement ces deux morceaux. Des univers qui me plaisaient et que j’entendais peu à la radio ou chez moi.

6/ ARTS OF NOISE - Moments of love https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ux3u31SAeEM

7/ YELLO - The Race https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y4QbJRAWvRU

ADO ce sera Lauryn Hill que je chante en m’enfermant dans la salle de bain tout le temps. L’album Miseducation c’était le truc qui me faisait le plus vibrer à cette époque.

8/ LAURYN HILL - EX Factor https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JfvMHO6Y8kw

Il y avait eux aussi que j’aimais tant The Roots

9/ THE ROOTS - The panic https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yLu3Q3ObkjM

Sonic Youth, je préférais ça à tellement d’autres trucs rock. Ça semblait vrai.

10/ SONIC YOUTH - Crème brulée https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jKhB0Fldusc

Puis le choc Bjork.

Je sais pas si c’est le fait que ce soit une femme ou bien qu’elle soit d’Islande ou bien de ou bien mais j’ai tout de suite aimé ce qu’elle faisait.

Chez moi c’est assez spontané quelque chose de l’ordre des viscères, du tréfonds et des vibrations. Et là, il y avait reconnaissance.

11/ BJORK - Anchor Song https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-IyoLPvFU5Y

Et puis, il y aura aussi un morceau de Ravel qui marque aussi mon envie de plus de musique classique. Le mystère qui s’installe et qu’on ne cherche pas à approfondir car on veut qu’il reste un trésor.

12/ RAVEL - Introduction et allegro pour harpe, flûte et clarinette et quatuor à cordes https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bBm1w8J63mg

En musique contemporaine Arvo Pärt : il emmène dans les profondeurs de l’âme.

13/ ARVO PÄRT - Spiegel im spiegel https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TJ6Mzvh3XCc

Et puis, je pars vivre en Angleterre. On est en pleine jungle dans les clubs en 2000 en Angleterre. Mais j’écoute plutôt Massive Attack, Portishead. Je suis comme d’habitude pas dans l’époque et j’adore ce son trip hop, ainsi que Morcheeba.

14/ MASSIVE ATTACK - Better things https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M-muSqqvFio

15/ PORTISHEAD - Roads https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vg1jyL3cr60

Portishead c’était cette femme que je trouvais si fragile, si touchante. Elle arrive avec le dos vouté en live et cette voix si folle. Je tombe sous le charme de cette mystérieuse personne. Et c’est ça qui me plaît je me dis : "l’étrange".

Tom Waits, sublime texte et sublime orchestration pour l’album Blood Money.

16/ TOM WAITS - All the world is green https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mg7wRhtYXnw

Beck avec l’album Midnite Vulture, il se renouvelle toujours et dans cet album il s’essaie même à rapper dans le morceau Hollywood Freaks

17/ BECK - Debra https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rpv-CcRX4X4

Nico, une trouvaille dans un disquaire londonien. Et je suis transportée par cette voix et son harmonium indien qui fait un peu "temps anciens".

18/ NICO - Janitor of Lunacy https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fgG3EaOCh_c

Je suis fascinée par Radiohead et cet album d’une beauté simple et froide qui te mets dans une condition de nostalgie et de bien être en même temps. Grosse influence !

19/ RADIOHEAD - How to disappear completely https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6W6HhdqA95w

Discographie sublime venant d’un monsieur pourvu d’une grâce dans son écriture.

20/ BRIAN ENO - By this river https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SrZYP8SzlN8

Et puis, je rentre sur Paris et je découvre Sigur Ros par le magazine Trax.

21/ SIGUR ROS - Ny Batteri https://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=sigur+Ros+ny+battery

Gil Scott Heron, grosse révélation avec l’album Winter in America

22/ GIL SCOTT HERON - Rivers of my fathers https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LmXz9I0zI5w

23/ ALI FARKA TOURÉ - Allah Uya https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=339uFnhymM4

et la musique Gnawa et beaucoup de jazz comme Miles Davis, John Coltrane, Katonoma.

24/ JOHN COLTRANE - A love supreme, Pt 4-Psalm https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yjZc7KIFlNs

J’habitais pas loin de la Fnac Bastille et c’était assez magique pour écouter plein de choses diverses : Daniel Johnston, Syd Barrett, Slowdive, Nick Drake…

Et je tombe sur Cat Power et là tout bascule. Je trouve celle qui va m’inspirer pendant un bon bout de temps à faire de la musique et à créer. Je suis déjà dans une école de musique mais je sais vers où je dois aller.

25/ CAT POWER - Metal heart https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kx6F1jesJ5o

Bashung, peu de musique française mais lui me fera renouer avec le français. Avant il y avait Gainsbourg, Colette Magny, Brigitte Fontaine. Mais Bashung je comprends son texte, il parle à mon coeur.

26/ BASHUNG - Des bras https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CrzF8yBOEEA

Et puis des choses plus expérimentales comme Haino Keiji, Fred Frith, Makoto Kawabata.

27/ HAINO KEIJI - An Untroublesome Defencelessness https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nZy-g8Dx8PU

Ensuite, je pars vivre à Cophenhague. je vais écouter Pavement, Atlas Sound, Animal Collective, Connan Mockasin, Field Mice, Deerhunter, Felt, Destroyer, Mazzy Star, The Clientele, Stereolab, Ben Watt, Karen Dalton et Nina Simone, Sibylle Baier, Mojave 3 et Five or Six. Et cette période fut celle où j’ai écrit les morceaux de mon Ep "Dancing Shadows". C’était une période sombre et d’introspection. Il y régnait une grande solitude et tristesse.

Ce morceau de Ben Watt et Robert Wyatt est magnifique. C’est simple et beau.

28/ BEN WATT - ROBERT WYATT - Walter and John https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3ySNVcJ4v6s

29/ DESTROYER - Painter in your pochet  / album Destroyer ’s Rubies, j’ai écouté de si nombreuses fois. Il me soulageait.  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bdPbBglm7lc

Je retourne sur Paris, Villette Sonique, groupe Nisennenmondai et je n’en reviens pas de la claque monumentale qu’elles m’ont mise.

30/ NISENNENMONDAI - A https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NNKA7i4i9GA

31/ ATLAS SOUND - Quarantined (à l’Alhambra mémorable) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rl-Ed5B8sI0

Dirty Beaches à la maroquinerie avec juste un sax … moment suspendu

32/ DIRTY BEACHES - Casino Lisboa https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WOZFVFF-ATw

33/ JEAN FRANÇOIS PAUVROS - Mon homme https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RmpLdJRIRKE

34/ MATANA ROBERTS - Mississippi Moonchild (j’entends parler d’elle pour la première fois en lisant Wire et choc émotionnel) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JbNKUAy0Qik

Mon morceau préféré aurait pu être The River Man de Nick Drake mais je choisis Nina Simone qui est l’unique.

35/ NINA SIMONE - Wild is the wind https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CiVDzTT4CbE

[oneburningmatch]

Salut là dedans !

En parallèle des répètes, nous avons bossé sur une super compil-action : 𝗪𝗛𝗘𝗡 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗣𝗨𝗡𝗫 𝗔𝗥𝗘 𝗨𝗡𝗜𝗧𝗘𝗗 avec notre petit label Histrion Records.

+ 𝟮 𝗛𝗘𝗨𝗥𝗘𝗦 𝗗𝗘 𝗦𝗢𝗡 𝗔̀ 𝗣𝗥𝗜𝗫 𝗟𝗜𝗕𝗥𝗘 𝗖𝗢𝗡𝗧𝗥𝗘 𝗟𝗔 𝗥𝗘́𝗣𝗥𝗘𝗦𝗦𝗜𝗢𝗡 + – 45 groupes – 45 morceaux – 1 cause à défendre – 1 compil

🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

+ 𝗖’𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝗾𝘂𝗼𝗶 𝗹𝗲 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗷𝗲𝘁 ? + Lutter efficacement contre la répression demande de solides ressources et des connaissances juridiques. Pour soutenir cette lutte et apporter notre pierre à l’édifice, nous avons créé une 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗽𝗶𝗹-𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻. Nous avons rassemblé 𝘁𝗼𝘂𝘀 𝗹𝗲𝘀 𝗴𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗽𝗲𝘀 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗴𝗿𝗮𝗺𝗺𝗲́𝘀 en concert par Histrion entre 2018 et fin 2020.

𝟮 𝗮𝗻𝗻𝗲́𝗲𝘀 𝗱𝗲 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝗰𝗲𝗿𝘁𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝗴𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗽𝗲́𝗲𝘀 𝘀𝘂𝗿 𝟮 𝗵𝗲𝘂𝗿𝗲𝘀 𝗱𝗲 𝘀𝗼𝗻 𝗻𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗲𝘂𝘅. La diversité de la scène punk réunie sur une compil-action de 45 titres rageurs. Comme d’habitude, tu y trouveras tous les styles, tous les niveaux de notoriété toujours avec un son qualité !

+ 𝗥𝗮𝗷𝗰𝗼𝗹 𝗰’𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝗾𝘂𝗼𝗶 ? + Le réseau Rajcol rassemble diverses structures qui s’organisent partout en France contre la répression et les violences policières. On retrouve par exemple des associations et des collectifs, une legal team, des caisses de solidarité et des groupes de défense collective. Il a pour but d’𝗼𝗿𝗴𝗮𝗻𝗶𝘀𝗲𝗿 𝗰𝗼𝗹𝗹𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗶𝘃𝗲𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝗹𝗲 𝘀𝗼𝘂𝘁𝗶𝗲𝗻 𝗮𝘂𝘅 𝘃𝗶𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲𝘀 𝗱𝗲 𝗹𝗮 𝗿𝗲́𝗽𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻 notamment dans les manifestations, les quartiers populaires, ou parmi les réfugiés. Si tu veux plus d’informations, rendez-vous sur leur site : https://rajcollective.noblogs.org/

+ 𝗢𝗞, 𝗰𝗼𝗼𝗹 𝗷’𝗲𝗻 𝘀𝘂𝗶𝘀 ! 𝗝𝗲 𝗹𝗮 𝘁𝗿𝗼𝘂𝘃𝗲 𝗼𝘂̀ 𝗰𝗲𝘁𝘁𝗲 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗽𝗶𝗹 ? + Sur le bandcamp tout beau tout neuf d’Histrion Records, on te met le lien juste là : https://histrionrecords.bandcamp.com/

𝗟𝗲 𝗽𝗿𝗶𝘅 𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝗹𝗶𝗯𝗿𝗲.𝟭𝟬𝟬 % 𝗱𝗲 𝘁𝗲𝘀 𝗱𝗼𝗻𝘀 𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗼𝗻𝘁 𝗿𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗲́𝘀 𝗮𝘂 𝗰𝗼𝗹𝗹𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗳 𝗮𝗻𝘁𝗶-𝗿𝗲́𝗽𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻. Tu peux ainsi soutenir une cause plus que jamais d’actualité à la hauteur de ce que tu peux donner, par engagement et/ou par solidarité.

𝗡𝗼𝘂𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝗺𝗲𝗿𝗰𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀 𝘁𝗼𝘂𝘀 𝗹𝗲𝘀 𝗴𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗽𝗲𝘀 𝗾𝘂𝗶 𝗼𝗻𝘁 𝘀𝗽𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗮𝗻𝗲́𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝗿𝗲́𝗽𝗼𝗻𝗱𝘂 𝗽𝗿𝗲́𝘀𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘀 𝗽𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝘁𝗶𝗰𝗶𝗽𝗲𝗿 𝗮𝘂 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗷𝗲𝘁. 𝗨𝗻 𝗴𝗿𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗺𝗲𝗿𝗰𝗶 𝗲́𝗴𝗮𝗹𝗲𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝗮̀ 𝗥𝗶𝗰𝗸𝘆 𝗽𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗹'𝗮𝗿𝘁𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸 𝗱𝗲 𝗹𝗮 𝗽𝗼𝗰𝗵𝗲𝘁𝘁𝗲 𝗮𝗶𝗻𝘀𝗶 𝗾𝘂’𝗮̀ 𝘁𝗼𝘂𝘁𝗲𝘀 𝗹𝗲𝘀 𝗽𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗲𝘀 𝗾𝘂𝗶 𝗼𝗻𝘁 𝗰𝗼𝗹𝗹𝗮𝗯𝗼𝗿𝗲́ 𝗮̀ 𝗰𝗲𝘁𝘁𝗲 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗽𝗶𝗹. [La lutte contre la répression ne s’arrête pas là, WHEN THE PUNX ARE UNITED est une affaire à suivre…]

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

Hi Friends,

Alongside the post-lockdown rehearsals, we've worked on a mixtape with our micro-label Histrion Records : introducing 𝗪𝗛𝗘𝗡 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗣𝗨𝗡𝗫 𝗔𝗥𝗘 𝗨𝗡𝗜𝗧𝗘𝗗.

+ 𝟮 𝗛𝗢𝗨𝗥𝗦 𝗢𝗙 𝗦𝗢𝗨𝗡𝗗 𝗔𝗚𝗔𝗜𝗡𝗦𝗧 𝗥𝗘𝗣𝗥𝗘𝗦𝗦𝗜𝗢𝗡/ 𝗣𝗔𝗬 𝗪𝗛𝗔𝗧 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗪𝗔𝗡𝗧 +

- 45 bands - 45 killer tracks - 1 noble cause - 1 mixtape

🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

+ 𝗪𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗶𝘀 𝗶𝘁 𝗮𝗯𝗼𝘂𝘁? + Fighting against repression requires solid resources and legal knowledge. We have created this 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗽𝗶𝗹-𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 to support the neverending fight against police brutality. We gathered  𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗯𝗮𝗻𝗱𝘀 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗴𝗿𝗮𝗺𝗺𝗲𝗱 by Histrion between 2018 and the end of 2020.

𝟮 𝘆𝗲𝗮𝗿𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝘀𝗵𝗼𝘄𝘀 𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗲𝗱 𝘂𝗽 𝗶𝗻 𝟮 𝗵𝗼𝘂𝗿𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝗳𝘂𝗿𝗶𝗼𝘂𝘀 𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱. Find the great diversity of the punk scene in a compil-action of 45 raging tracks. As usual, you will listen to all styles, no matter their level of fame, and always with a high-quality sound!

+ 𝗪𝗵𝗮𝘁'𝘀 𝗥𝗮𝗷𝗰𝗼𝗹 ? + The Rajcol network fights against repression and police brutality all across France. May it be through organizations, legal teams, solidarity funds, or defense groups. 𝗜𝘁𝘀 𝗺𝗶𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗶𝘀 𝘁𝗼 𝗰𝗼𝗹𝗹𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗶𝘃𝗲𝗹𝘆 𝗼𝗿𝗴𝗮𝗻𝗶𝘇𝗲 𝘀𝘂𝗽𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘃𝗶𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗺𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻, particularly in demonstrations, working-class neighborhoods, or with refugees. Check out their website for more info: https://rajcollective.noblogs.org/

+ 𝗢𝗸, 𝗜'𝗺 𝗶𝗻! 𝗪𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗰𝗮𝗻 𝗜 𝗳𝗶𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗮𝘄𝗲𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗺𝗶𝘅𝘁𝗮𝗽𝗲? + On Histrion Records' brand new bandcamp account, here's the link: https://histrionrecords.bandcamp.com/ 𝗡𝗮𝗺𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗽𝗿𝗶𝗰𝗲. 𝟭𝟬𝟬% 𝗼𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗱𝗼𝗻𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗯𝗲 𝗱𝗶𝗿𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗹𝘆 𝘀𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝘁𝗶-𝗿𝗲𝗽𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗰𝗼𝗹𝗹𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗶𝘃𝗲. So you can support a cause more relevant than ever by engagement and solidarity.

𝗪𝗲 𝘄𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗸𝘀 𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗯𝗮𝗻𝗱𝘀 𝘄𝗵𝗼 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝘀𝗽𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗮𝗻𝗲𝗼𝘂𝘀𝗹𝘆 𝘁𝗮𝗸𝗲𝗻 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗷𝗲𝗰𝘁. 𝗠𝗮𝘀𝘀𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝗻𝘅 𝘁𝗼 𝗥𝗶𝗰𝗸𝘆 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗮𝗿𝘁𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝘄𝗵𝗼 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝘁𝗶𝗰𝗶𝗽𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗺𝗶𝘅𝘁𝗮𝗽𝗲.

[The fight against repression doesn't end here, WHEN THE PUNX ARE UNITED is to be followed...]

WHEN THE PUNX ARE UNITED by Histrion Records

[unsettlingshortstories]

Rappaccini’s Daughter

Nathaniel Hawthorne (1844)

We do not remember to have seen any translated specimens of the productions of M. de l'Aubepine—a fact the less to be wondered at, as his very name is unknown to many of his own countrymen as well as to the student of foreign literature. As a writer, he seems to occupy an unfortunate position between the Transcendentalists (who, under one name or another, have their share in all the current literature of the world) and the great body of pen-and-ink men who address the intellect and sympathies of the multitude. If not too refined, at all events too remote, too shadowy, and unsubstantial in his modes of development to suit the taste of the latter class, and yet too popular to satisfy the spiritual or metaphysical requisitions of the former, he must necessarily find himself without an audience, except here and there an individual or possibly an isolated clique. His writings, to do them justice, are not altogether destitute of fancy and originality; they might have won him greater reputation but for an inveterate love of allegory, which is apt to invest his plots and characters with the aspect of scenery and people in the clouds, and to steal away the human warmth out of his conceptions. His fictions are sometimes historical, sometimes of the present day, and sometimes, so far as can be discovered, have little or no reference either to time or space. In any case, he generally contents himself with a very slight embroidery of outward manners,—the faintest possible counterfeit of real life,—and endeavors to create an interest by some less obvious peculiarity of the subject. Occasionally a breath of Nature, a raindrop of pathos and tenderness, or a gleam of humor, will find its way into the midst of his fantastic imagery, and make us feel as if, after all, we were yet within the limits of our native earth. We will only add to this very cursory notice that M. de l'Aubepine's productions, if the reader chance to take them in precisely the proper point of view, may amuse a leisure hour as well as those of a brighter man; if otherwise, they can hardly fail to look excessively like nonsense.

Our author is voluminous; he continues to write and publish with as much praiseworthy and indefatigable prolixity as if his efforts were crowned with the brilliant success that so justly attends those of Eugene Sue. His first appearance was by a collection of stories in a long series of volumes entitled "Contes deux fois racontees." The titles of some of his more recent works (we quote from memory) are as follows: "Le Voyage Celeste a Chemin de Fer," 3 tom., 1838; "Le nouveau Pere Adam et la nouvelle Mere Eve," 2 tom., 1839; "Roderic; ou le Serpent a l'estomac," 2 tom., 1840; "Le Culte du Feu," a folio volume of ponderous research into the religion and ritual of the old Persian Ghebers, published in 1841; "La Soiree du Chateau en Espagne," 1 tom., 8vo, 1842; and "L'Artiste du Beau; ou le Papillon Mecanique," 5 tom., 4to, 1843. Our somewhat wearisome perusal of this startling catalogue of volumes has left behind it a certain personal affection and sympathy, though by no means admiration, for M. de l'Aubepine; and we would fain do the little in our power towards introducing him favorably to the American public. The ensuing tale is a translation of his "Beatrice; ou la Belle Empoisonneuse," recently published in "La Revue Anti-Aristocratique." This journal, edited by the Comte de Bearhaven, has for some years past led the defence of liberal principles and popular rights with a faithfulness and ability worthy of all praise.

A young man, named Giovanni Guasconti, came, very long ago, from the more southern region of Italy, to pursue his studies at the University of Padua. Giovanni, who had but a scanty supply of gold ducats in his pocket, took lodgings in a high and gloomy chamber of an old edifice which looked not unworthy to have been the palace of a Paduan noble, and which, in fact, exhibited over its entrance the armorial bearings of a family long since extinct. The young stranger, who was not unstudied in the great poem of his country, recollected that one of the ancestors of this family, and perhaps an occupant of this very mansion, had been pictured by Dante as a partaker of the immortal agonies of his Inferno. These reminiscences and associations, together with the tendency to heartbreak natural to a young man for the first time out of his native sphere, caused Giovanni to sigh heavily as he looked around the desolate and ill-furnished apartment.

"Holy Virgin, signor!" cried old Dame Lisabetta, who, won by the youth's remarkable beauty of person, was kindly endeavoring to give the chamber a habitable air, "what a sigh was that to come out of a young man's heart! Do you find this old mansion gloomy? For the love of Heaven, then, put your head out of the window, and you will see as bright sunshine as you have left in Naples."

Guasconti mechanically did as the old woman advised, but could not quite agree with her that the Paduan sunshine was as cheerful as that of southern Italy. Such as it was, however, it fell upon a garden beneath the window and expended its fostering influences on a variety of plants, which seemed to have been cultivated with exceeding care.

"Does this garden belong to the house?" asked Giovanni.

"Heaven forbid, signor, unless it were fruitful of better pot herbs than any that grow there now," answered old Lisabetta. "No; that garden is cultivated by the own hands of Signor Giacomo Rappaccini, the famous doctor, who, I warrant him, has been heard of as far as Naples. It is said that he distils these plants into medicines that are as potent as a charm. Oftentimes you may see the signor doctor at work, and perchance the signora, his daughter, too, gathering the strange flowers that grow in the garden."

The old woman had now done what she could for the aspect of the chamber; and, commending the young man to the protection of the saints, took her departure.

Giovanni still found no better occupation than to look down into the garden beneath his window. From its appearance, he judged it to be one of those botanic gardens which were of earlier date in Padua than elsewhere in Italy or in the world. Or, not improbably, it might once have been the pleasure-place of an opulent family; for there was the ruin of a marble fountain in the centre, sculptured with rare art, but so wofully shattered that it was impossible to trace the original design from the chaos of remaining fragments. The water, however, continued to gush and sparkle into the sunbeams as cheerfully as ever. A little gurgling sound ascended to the young man's window, and made him feel as if the fountain were an immortal spirit that sung its song unceasingly and without heeding the vicissitudes around it, while one century imbodied it in marble and another scattered the perishable garniture on the soil. All about the pool into which the water subsided grew various plants, that seemed to require a plentiful supply of moisture for the nourishment of gigantic leaves, and in some instances, flowers gorgeously magnificent. There was one shrub in particular, set in a marble vase in the midst of the pool, that bore a profusion of purple blossoms, each of which had the lustre and richness of a gem; and the whole together made a show so resplendent that it seemed enough to illuminate the garden, even had there been no sunshine. Every portion of the soil was peopled with plants and herbs, which, if less beautiful, still bore tokens of assiduous care, as if all had their individual virtues, known to the scientific mind that fostered them. Some were placed in urns, rich with old carving, and others in common garden pots; some crept serpent-like along the ground or climbed on high, using whatever means of ascent was offered them. One plant had wreathed itself round a statue of Vertumnus, which was thus quite veiled and shrouded in a drapery of hanging foliage, so happily arranged that it might have served a sculptor for a study.

While Giovanni stood at the window he heard a rustling behind a screen of leaves, and became aware that a person was at work in the garden. His figure soon emerged into view, and showed itself to be that of no common laborer, but a tall, emaciated, sallow, and sickly-looking man, dressed in a scholar's garb of black. He was beyond the middle term of life, with gray hair, a thin, gray beard, and a face singularly marked with intellect and cultivation, but which could never, even in his more youthful days, have expressed much warmth of heart.

Nothing could exceed the intentness with which this scientific gardener examined every shrub which grew in his path: it seemed as if he was looking into their inmost nature, making observations in regard to their creative essence, and discovering why one leaf grew in this shape and another in that, and wherefore such and such flowers differed among themselves in hue and perfume. Nevertheless, in spite of this deep intelligence on his part, there was no approach to intimacy between himself and these vegetable existences. On the contrary, he avoided their actual touch or the direct inhaling of their odors with a caution that impressed Giovanni most disagreeably; for the man's demeanor was that of one walking among malignant influences, such as savage beasts, or deadly snakes, or evil spirits, which, should he allow them one moment of license, would wreak upon him some terrible fatality. It was strangely frightful to the young man's imagination to see this air of insecurity in a person cultivating a garden, that most simple and innocent of human toils, and which had been alike the joy and labor of the unfallen parents of the race. Was this garden, then, the Eden of the present world? And this man, with such a perception of harm in what his own hands caused to grow,—was he the Adam?

The distrustful gardener, while plucking away the dead leaves or pruning the too luxuriant growth of the shrubs, defended his hands with a pair of thick gloves. Nor were these his only armor. When, in his walk through the garden, he came to the magnificent plant that hung its purple gems beside the marble fountain, he placed a kind of mask over his mouth and nostrils, as if all this beauty did but conceal a deadlier malice; but, finding his task still too dangerous, he drew back, removed the mask, and called loudly, but in the infirm voice of a person affected with inward disease, "Beatrice! Beatrice!"

"Here am I, my father. What would you?" cried a rich and youthful voice from the window of the opposite house—a voice as rich as a tropical sunset, and which made Giovanni, though he knew not why, think of deep hues of purple or crimson and of perfumes heavily delectable. "Are you in the garden?"

"Yes, Beatrice," answered the gardener, "and I need your help."

Soon there emerged from under a sculptured portal the figure of a young girl, arrayed with as much richness of taste as the most splendid of the flowers, beautiful as the day, and with a bloom so deep and vivid that one shade more would have been too much. She looked redundant with life, health, and energy; all of which attributes were bound down and compressed, as it were and girdled tensely, in their luxuriance, by her virgin zone. Yet Giovanni's fancy must have grown morbid while he looked down into the garden; for the impression which the fair stranger made upon him was as if here were another flower, the human sister of those vegetable ones, as beautiful as they, more beautiful than the richest of them, but still to be touched only with a glove, nor to be approached without a mask. As Beatrice came down the garden path, it was observable that she handled and inhaled the odor of several of the plants which her father had most sedulously avoided.

"Here, Beatrice," said the latter, "see how many needful offices require to be done to our chief treasure. Yet, shattered as I am, my life might pay the penalty of approaching it so closely as circumstances demand. Henceforth, I fear, this plant must be consigned to your sole charge."

"And gladly will I undertake it," cried again the rich tones of the young lady, as she bent towards the magnificent plant and opened her arms as if to embrace it. "Yes, my sister, my splendour, it shall be Beatrice's task to nurse and serve thee; and thou shalt reward her with thy kisses and perfumed breath, which to her is as the breath of life."

Then, with all the tenderness in her manner that was so strikingly expressed in her words, she busied herself with such attentions as the plant seemed to require; and Giovanni, at his lofty window, rubbed his eyes and almost doubted whether it were a girl tending her favorite flower, or one sister performing the duties of affection to another. The scene soon terminated. Whether Dr. Rappaccini had finished his labors in the garden, or that his watchful eye had caught the stranger's face, he now took his daughter's arm and retired. Night was already closing in; oppressive exhalations seemed to proceed from the plants and steal upward past the open window; and Giovanni, closing the lattice, went to his couch and dreamed of a rich flower and beautiful girl. Flower and maiden were different, and yet the same, and fraught with some strange peril in either shape.

But there is an influence in the light of morning that tends to rectify whatever errors of fancy, or even of judgment, we may have incurred during the sun's decline, or among the shadows of the night, or in the less wholesome glow of moonshine. Giovanni's first movement, on starting from sleep, was to throw open the window and gaze down into the garden which his dreams had made so fertile of mysteries. He was surprised and a little ashamed to find how real and matter-of-fact an affair it proved to be, in the first rays of the sun which gilded the dew-drops that hung upon leaf and blossom, and, while giving a brighter beauty to each rare flower, brought everything within the limits of ordinary experience. The young man rejoiced that, in the heart of the barren city, he had the privilege of overlooking this spot of lovely and luxuriant vegetation. It would serve, he said to himself, as a symbolic language to keep him in communion with Nature. Neither the sickly and thoughtworn Dr. Giacomo Rappaccini, it is true, nor his brilliant daughter, were now visible; so that Giovanni could not determine how much of the singularity which he attributed to both was due to their own qualities and how much to his wonder-working fancy; but he was inclined to take a most rational view of the whole matter.

In the course of the day he paid his respects to Signor Pietro Baglioni, professor of medicine in the university, a physician of eminent repute to whom Giovanni had brought a letter of introduction. The professor was an elderly personage, apparently of genial nature, and habits that might almost be called jovial. He kept the young man to dinner, and made himself very agreeable by the freedom and liveliness of his conversation, especially when warmed by a flask or two of Tuscan wine. Giovanni, conceiving that men of science, inhabitants of the same city, must needs be on familiar terms with one another, took an opportunity to mention the name of Dr. Rappaccini. But the professor did not respond with so much cordiality as he had anticipated.

"Ill would it become a teacher of the divine art of medicine," said Professor Pietro Baglioni, in answer to a question of Giovanni, "to withhold due and well-considered praise of a physician so eminently skilled as Rappaccini; but, on the other hand, I should answer it but scantily to my conscience were I to permit a worthy youth like yourself, Signor Giovanni, the son of an ancient friend, to imbibe erroneous ideas respecting a man who might hereafter chance to hold your life and death in his hands. The truth is, our worshipful Dr. Rappaccini has as much science as any member of the faculty—with perhaps one single exception—in Padua, or all Italy; but there are certain grave objections to his professional character."

"And what are they?" asked the young man.

"Has my friend Giovanni any disease of body or heart, that he is so inquisitive about physicians?" said the professor, with a smile. "But as for Rappaccini, it is said of him—and I, who know the man well, can answer for its truth—that he cares infinitely more for science than for mankind. His patients are interesting to him only as subjects for some new experiment. He would sacrifice human life, his own among the rest, or whatever else was dearest to him, for the sake of adding so much as a grain of mustard seed to the great heap of his accumulated knowledge."

"Methinks he is an awful man indeed," remarked Guasconti, mentally recalling the cold and purely intellectual aspect of Rappaccini. "And yet, worshipful professor, is it not a noble spirit? Are there many men capable of so spiritual a love of science?"

"God forbid," answered the professor, somewhat testily; "at least, unless they take sounder views of the healing art than those adopted by Rappaccini. It is his theory that all medicinal virtues are comprised within those substances which we term vegetable poisons. These he cultivates with his own hands, and is said even to have produced new varieties of poison, more horribly deleterious than Nature, without the assistance of this learned person, would ever have plagued the world withal. That the signor doctor does less mischief than might be expected with such dangerous substances is undeniable. Now and then, it must be owned, he has effected, or seemed to effect, a marvellous cure; but, to tell you my private mind, Signor Giovanni, he should receive little credit for such instances of success,—they being probably the work of chance,—but should be held strictly accountable for his failures, which may justly be considered his own work."

The youth might have taken Baglioni's opinions with many grains of allowance had he known that there was a professional warfare of long continuance between him and Dr. Rappaccini, in which the latter was generally thought to have gained the advantage. If the reader be inclined to judge for himself, we refer him to certain black-letter tracts on both sides, preserved in the medical department of the University of Padua.

"I know not, most learned professor," returned Giovanni, after musing on what had been said of Rappaccini's exclusive zeal for science,—"I know not how dearly this physician may love his art; but surely there is one object more dear to him. He has a daughter."

"Aha!" cried the professor, with a laugh. "So now our friend Giovanni's secret is out. You have heard of this daughter, whom all the young men in Padua are wild about, though not half a dozen have ever had the good hap to see her face. I know little of the Signora Beatrice save that Rappaccini is said to have instructed her deeply in his science, and that, young and beautiful as fame reports her, she is already qualified to fill a professor's chair. Perchance her father destines her for mine! Other absurd rumors there be, not worth talking about or listening to. So now, Signor Giovanni, drink off your glass of lachryma."

Guasconti returned to his lodgings somewhat heated with the wine he had quaffed, and which caused his brain to swim with strange fantasies in reference to Dr. Rappaccini and the beautiful Beatrice. On his way, happening to pass by a florist's, he bought a fresh bouquet of flowers.

Ascending to his chamber, he seated himself near the window, but within the shadow thrown by the depth of the wall, so that he could look down into the garden with little risk of being discovered. All beneath his eye was a solitude. The strange plants were basking in the sunshine, and now and then nodding gently to one another, as if in acknowledgment of sympathy and kindred. In the midst, by the shattered fountain, grew the magnificent shrub, with its purple gems clustering all over it; they glowed in the air, and gleamed back again out of the depths of the pool, which thus seemed to overflow with colored radiance from the rich reflection that was steeped in it. At first, as we have said, the garden was a solitude. Soon, however,—as Giovanni had half hoped, half feared, would be the case,—a figure appeared beneath the antique sculptured portal, and came down between the rows of plants, inhaling their various perfumes as if she were one of those beings of old classic fable that lived upon sweet odors. On again beholding Beatrice, the young man was even startled to perceive how much her beauty exceeded his recollection of it; so brilliant, so vivid, was its character, that she glowed amid the sunlight, and, as Giovanni whispered to himself, positively illuminated the more shadowy intervals of the garden path. Her face being now more revealed than on the former occasion, he was struck by its expression of simplicity and sweetness,—qualities that had not entered into his idea of her character, and which made him ask anew what manner of mortal she might be. Nor did he fail again to observe, or imagine, an analogy between the beautiful girl and the gorgeous shrub that hung its gemlike flowers over the fountain,—a resemblance which Beatrice seemed to have indulged a fantastic humor in heightening, both by the arrangement of her dress and the selection of its hues.

Approaching the shrub, she threw open her arms, as with a passionate ardor, and drew its branches into an intimate embrace—so intimate that her features were hidden in its leafy bosom and her glistening ringlets all intermingled with the flowers.

"Give me thy breath, my sister," exclaimed Beatrice; "for I am faint with common air. And give me this flower of thine, which I separate with gentlest fingers from the stem and place it close beside my heart."

With these words the beautiful daughter of Rappaccini plucked one of the richest blossoms of the shrub, and was about to fasten it in her bosom. But now, unless Giovanni's draughts of wine had bewildered his senses, a singular incident occurred. A small orange-colored reptile, of the lizard or chameleon species, chanced to be creeping along the path, just at the feet of Beatrice. It appeared to Giovanni,—but, at the distance from which he gazed, he could scarcely have seen anything so minute,—it appeared to him, however, that a drop or two of moisture from the broken stem of the flower descended upon the lizard's head. For an instant the reptile contorted itself violently, and then lay motionless in the sunshine. Beatrice observed this remarkable phenomenon and crossed herself, sadly, but without surprise; nor did she therefore hesitate to arrange the fatal flower in her bosom. There it blushed, and almost glimmered with the dazzling effect of a precious stone, adding to her dress and aspect the one appropriate charm which nothing else in the world could have supplied. But Giovanni, out of the shadow of his window, bent forward and shrank back, and murmured and trembled.

"Am I awake? Have I my senses?" said he to himself. "What is this being? Beautiful shall I call her, or inexpressibly terrible?"

Beatrice now strayed carelessly through the garden, approaching closer beneath Giovanni's window, so that he was compelled to thrust his head quite out of its concealment in order to gratify the intense and painful curiosity which she excited. At this moment there came a beautiful insect over the garden wall; it had, perhaps, wandered through the city, and found no flowers or verdure among those antique haunts of men until the heavy perfumes of Dr. Rappaccini's shrubs had lured it from afar. Without alighting on the flowers, this winged brightness seemed to be attracted by Beatrice, and lingered in the air and fluttered about her head. Now, here it could not be but that Giovanni Guasconti's eyes deceived him. Be that as it might, he fancied that, while Beatrice was gazing at the insect with childish delight, it grew faint and fell at her feet; its bright wings shivered; it was dead—from no cause that he could discern, unless it were the atmosphere of her breath. Again Beatrice crossed herself and sighed heavily as she bent over the dead insect.

An impulsive movement of Giovanni drew her eyes to the window. There she beheld the beautiful head of the young man—rather a Grecian than an Italian head, with fair, regular features, and a glistening of gold among his ringlets—gazing down upon her like a being that hovered in mid air. Scarcely knowing what he did, Giovanni threw down the bouquet which he had hitherto held in his hand.

"Signora," said he, "there are pure and healthful flowers. Wear them for the sake of Giovanni Guasconti."

"Thanks, signor," replied Beatrice, with her rich voice, that came forth as it were like a gush of music, and with a mirthful expression half childish and half woman-like. "I accept your gift, and would fain recompense it with this precious purple flower; but if I toss it into the air it will not reach you. So Signor Guasconti must even content himself with my thanks."

She lifted the bouquet from the ground, and then, as if inwardly ashamed at having stepped aside from her maidenly reserve to respond to a stranger's greeting, passed swiftly homeward through the garden. But few as the moments were, it seemed to Giovanni, when she was on the point of vanishing beneath the sculptured portal, that his beautiful bouquet was already beginning to wither in her grasp. It was an idle thought; there could be no possibility of distinguishing a faded flower from a fresh one at so great a distance.

For many days after this incident the young man avoided the window that looked into Dr. Rappaccini's garden, as if something ugly and monstrous would have blasted his eyesight had he been betrayed into a glance. He felt conscious of having put himself, to a certain extent, within the influence of an unintelligible power by the communication which he had opened with Beatrice. The wisest course would have been, if his heart were in any real danger, to quit his lodgings and Padua itself at once; the next wiser, to have accustomed himself, as far as possible, to the familiar and daylight view of Beatrice—thus bringing her rigidly and systematically within the limits of ordinary experience. Least of all, while avoiding her sight, ought Giovanni to have remained so near this extraordinary being that the proximity and possibility even of intercourse should give a kind of substance and reality to the wild vagaries which his imagination ran riot continually in producing. Guasconti had not a deep heart—or, at all events, its depths were not sounded now; but he had a quick fancy, and an ardent southern temperament, which rose every instant to a higher fever pitch. Whether or no Beatrice possessed those terrible attributes, that fatal breath, the affinity with those so beautiful and deadly flowers which were indicated by what Giovanni had witnessed, she had at least instilled a fierce and subtle poison into his system. It was not love, although her rich beauty was a madness to him; nor horror, even while he fancied her spirit to be imbued with the same baneful essence that seemed to pervade her physical frame; but a wild offspring of both love and horror that had each parent in it, and burned like one and shivered like the other. Giovanni knew not what to dread; still less did he know what to hope; yet hope and dread kept a continual warfare in his breast, alternately vanquishing one another and starting up afresh to renew the contest. Blessed are all simple emotions, be they dark or bright! It is the lurid intermixture of the two that produces the illuminating blaze of the infernal regions.

Sometimes he endeavored to assuage the fever of his spirit by a rapid walk through the streets of Padua or beyond its gates: his footsteps kept time with the throbbings of his brain, so that the walk was apt to accelerate itself to a race. One day he found himself arrested; his arm was seized by a portly personage, who had turned back on recognizing the young man and expended much breath in overtaking him.

"Signor Giovanni! Stay, my young friend!" cried he. "Have you forgotten me? That might well be the case if I were as much altered as yourself."

It was Baglioni, whom Giovanni had avoided ever since their first meeting, from a doubt that the professor's sagacity would look too deeply into his secrets. Endeavoring to recover himself, he stared forth wildly from his inner world into the outer one and spoke like a man in a dream.

"Yes; I am Giovanni Guasconti. You are Professor Pietro Baglioni. Now let me pass!"

"Not yet, not yet, Signor Giovanni Guasconti," said the professor, smiling, but at the same time scrutinizing the youth with an earnest glance. "What! did I grow up side by side with your father? and shall his son pass me like a stranger in these old streets of Padua? Stand still, Signor Giovanni; for we must have a word or two before we part."

"Speedily, then, most worshipful professor, speedily," said Giovanni, with feverish impatience. "Does not your worship see that I am in haste?"

Now, while he was speaking there came a man in black along the street, stooping and moving feebly like a person in inferior health. His face was all overspread with a most sickly and sallow hue, but yet so pervaded with an expression of piercing and active intellect that an observer might easily have overlooked the merely physical attributes and have seen only this wonderful energy. As he passed, this person exchanged a cold and distant salutation with Baglioni, but fixed his eyes upon Giovanni with an intentness that seemed to bring out whatever was within him worthy of notice. Nevertheless, there was a peculiar quietness in the look, as if taking merely a speculative, not a human interest, in the young man.

"It is Dr. Rappaccini!" whispered the professor when the stranger had passed. "Has he ever seen your face before?"

"Not that I know," answered Giovanni, starting at the name.

"He HAS seen you! he must have seen you!" said Baglioni, hastily. "For some purpose or other, this man of science is making a study of you. I know that look of his! It is the same that coldly illuminates his face as he bends over a bird, a mouse, or a butterfly, which, in pursuance of some experiment, he has killed by the perfume of a flower; a look as deep as Nature itself, but without Nature's warmth of love. Signor Giovanni, I will stake my life upon it, you are the subject of one of Rappaccini's experiments!"

"Will you make a fool of me?" cried Giovanni, passionately. "THAT, signor professor, were an untoward experiment."

"Patience! patience!" replied the imperturbable professor. "I tell thee, my poor Giovanni, that Rappaccini has a scientific interest in thee. Thou hast fallen into fearful hands! And the Signora Beatrice,—what part does she act in this mystery?"

But Guasconti, finding Baglioni's pertinacity intolerable, here broke away, and was gone before the professor could again seize his arm. He looked after the young man intently and shook his head.

"This must not be," said Baglioni to himself. "The youth is the son of my old friend, and shall not come to any harm from which the arcana of medical science can preserve him. Besides, it is too insufferable an impertinence in Rappaccini, thus to snatch the lad out of my own hands, as I may say, and make use of him for his infernal experiments. This daughter of his! It shall be looked to. Perchance, most learned Rappaccini, I may foil you where you little dream of it!"

Meanwhile Giovanni had pursued a circuitous route, and at length found himself at the door of his lodgings. As he crossed the threshold he was met by old Lisabetta, who smirked and smiled, and was evidently desirous to attract his attention; vainly, however, as the ebullition of his feelings had momentarily subsided into a cold and dull vacuity. He turned his eyes full upon the withered face that was puckering itself into a smile, but seemed to behold it not. The old dame, therefore, laid her grasp upon his cloak.

"Signor! signor!" whispered she, still with a smile over the whole breadth of her visage, so that it looked not unlike a grotesque carving in wood, darkened by centuries. "Listen, signor! There is a private entrance into the garden!"

"What do you say?" exclaimed Giovanni, turning quickly about, as if an inanimate thing should start into feverish life. "A private entrance into Dr. Rappaccini's garden?"

"Hush! hush! not so loud!" whispered Lisabetta, putting her hand over his mouth. "Yes; into the worshipful doctor's garden, where you may see all his fine shrubbery. Many a young man in Padua would give gold to be admitted among those flowers."

Giovanni put a piece of gold into her hand.

"Show me the way," said he.

A surmise, probably excited by his conversation with Baglioni, crossed his mind, that this interposition of old Lisabetta might perchance be connected with the intrigue, whatever were its nature, in which the professor seemed to suppose that Dr. Rappaccini was involving him. But such a suspicion, though it disturbed Giovanni, was inadequate to restrain him. The instant that he was aware of the possibility of approaching Beatrice, it seemed an absolute necessity of his existence to do so. It mattered not whether she were angel or demon; he was irrevocably within her sphere, and must obey the law that whirled him onward, in ever-lessening circles, towards a result which he did not attempt to foreshadow; and yet, strange to say, there came across him a sudden doubt whether this intense interest on his part were not delusory; whether it were really of so deep and positive a nature as to justify him in now thrusting himself into an incalculable position; whether it were not merely the fantasy of a young man's brain, only slightly or not at all connected with his heart.

He paused, hesitated, turned half about, but again went on. His withered guide led him along several obscure passages, and finally undid a door, through which, as it was opened, there came the sight and sound of rustling leaves, with the broken sunshine glimmering among them. Giovanni stepped forth, and, forcing himself through the entanglement of a shrub that wreathed its tendrils over the hidden entrance, stood beneath his own window in the open area of Dr. Rappaccini's garden.

How often is it the case that, when impossibilities have come to pass and dreams have condensed their misty substance into tangible realities, we find ourselves calm, and even coldly self-possessed, amid circumstances which it would have been a delirium of joy or agony to anticipate! Fate delights to thwart us thus. Passion will choose his own time to rush upon the scene, and lingers sluggishly behind when an appropriate adjustment of events would seem to summon his appearance. So was it now with Giovanni. Day after day his pulses had throbbed with feverish blood at the improbable idea of an interview with Beatrice, and of standing with her, face to face, in this very garden, basking in the Oriental sunshine of her beauty, and snatching from her full gaze the mystery which he deemed the riddle of his own existence. But now there was a singular and untimely equanimity within his breast. He threw a glance around the garden to discover if Beatrice or her father were present, and, perceiving that he was alone, began a critical observation of the plants.

The aspect of one and all of them dissatisfied him; their gorgeousness seemed fierce, passionate, and even unnatural. There was hardly an individual shrub which a wanderer, straying by himself through a forest, would not have been startled to find growing wild, as if an unearthly face had glared at him out of the thicket. Several also would have shocked a delicate instinct by an appearance of artificialness indicating that there had been such commixture, and, as it were, adultery, of various vegetable species, that the production was no longer of God's making, but the monstrous offspring of man's depraved fancy, glowing with only an evil mockery of beauty. They were probably the result of experiment, which in one or two cases had succeeded in mingling plants individually lovely into a compound possessing the questionable and ominous character that distinguished the whole growth of the garden. In fine, Giovanni recognized but two or three plants in the collection, and those of a kind that he well knew to be poisonous. While busy with these contemplations he heard the rustling of a silken garment, and, turning, beheld Beatrice emerging from beneath the sculptured portal.

Giovanni had not considered with himself what should be his deportment; whether he should apologize for his intrusion into the garden, or assume that he was there with the privity at least, if not by the desire, of Dr. Rappaccini or his daughter; but Beatrice's manner placed him at his ease, though leaving him still in doubt by what agency he had gained admittance. She came lightly along the path and met him near the broken fountain. There was surprise in her face, but brightened by a simple and kind expression of pleasure.

"You are a connoisseur in flowers, signor," said Beatrice, with a smile, alluding to the bouquet which he had flung her from the window. "It is no marvel, therefore, if the sight of my father's rare collection has tempted you to take a nearer view. If he were here, he could tell you many strange and interesting facts as to the nature and habits of these shrubs; for he has spent a lifetime in such studies, and this garden is his world."

"And yourself, lady," observed Giovanni, "if fame says true,—you likewise are deeply skilled in the virtues indicated by these rich blossoms and these spicy perfumes. Would you deign to be my instructress, I should prove an apter scholar than if taught by Signor Rappaccini himself."

"Are there such idle rumors?" asked Beatrice, with the music of a pleasant laugh. "Do people say that I am skilled in my father's science of plants? What a jest is there! No; though I have grown up among these flowers, I know no more of them than their hues and perfume; and sometimes methinks I would fain rid myself of even that small knowledge. There are many flowers here, and those not the least brilliant, that shock and offend me when they meet my eye. But pray, signor, do not believe these stories about my science. Believe nothing of me save what you see with your own eyes."

"And must I believe all that I have seen with my own eyes?" asked Giovanni, pointedly, while the recollection of former scenes made him shrink. "No, signora; you demand too little of me. Bid me believe nothing save what comes from your own lips."

It would appear that Beatrice understood him. There came a deep flush to her cheek; but she looked full into Giovanni's eyes, and responded to his gaze of uneasy suspicion with a queenlike haughtiness.

"I do so bid you, signor," she replied. "Forget whatever you may have fancied in regard to me. If true to the outward senses, still it may be false in its essence; but the words of Beatrice Rappaccini's lips are true from the depths of the heart outward. Those you may believe."

A fervor glowed in her whole aspect and beamed upon Giovanni's consciousness like the light of truth itself; but while she spoke there was a fragrance in the atmosphere around her, rich and delightful, though evanescent, yet which the young man, from an indefinable reluctance, scarcely dared to draw into his lungs. It might be the odor of the flowers. Could it be Beatrice's breath which thus embalmed her words with a strange richness, as if by steeping them in her heart? A faintness passed like a shadow over Giovanni and flitted away; he seemed to gaze through the beautiful girl's eyes into her transparent soul, and felt no more doubt or fear.

The tinge of passion that had colored Beatrice's manner vanished; she became gay, and appeared to derive a pure delight from her communion with the youth not unlike what the maiden of a lonely island might have felt conversing with a voyager from the civilized world. Evidently her experience of life had been confined within the limits of that garden. She talked now about matters as simple as the daylight or summer clouds, and now asked questions in reference to the city, or Giovanni's distant home, his friends, his mother, and his sisters—questions indicating such seclusion, and such lack of familiarity with modes and forms, that Giovanni responded as if to an infant. Her spirit gushed out before him like a fresh rill that was just catching its first glimpse of the sunlight and wondering at the reflections of earth and sky which were flung into its bosom. There came thoughts, too, from a deep source, and fantasies of a gemlike brilliancy, as if diamonds and rubies sparkled upward among the bubbles of the fountain. Ever and anon there gleamed across the young man's mind a sense of wonder that he should be walking side by side with the being who had so wrought upon his imagination, whom he had idealized in such hues of terror, in whom he had positively witnessed such manifestations of dreadful attributes,—that he should be conversing with Beatrice like a brother, and should find her so human and so maidenlike. But such reflections were only momentary; the effect of her character was too real not to make itself familiar at once.

In this free intercourse they had strayed through the garden, and now, after many turns among its avenues, were come to the shattered fountain, beside which grew the magnificent shrub, with its treasury of glowing blossoms. A fragrance was diffused from it which Giovanni recognized as identical with that which he had attributed to Beatrice's breath, but incomparably more powerful. As her eyes fell upon it, Giovanni beheld her press her hand to her bosom as if her heart were throbbing suddenly and painfully.

"For the first time in my life," murmured she, addressing the shrub, "I had forgotten thee."

"I remember, signora," said Giovanni, "that you once promised to reward me with one of these living gems for the bouquet which I had the happy boldness to fling to your feet. Permit me now to pluck it as a memorial of this interview."

He made a step towards the shrub with extended hand; but Beatrice darted forward, uttering a shriek that went through his heart like a dagger. She caught his hand and drew it back with the whole force of her slender figure. Giovanni felt her touch thrilling through his fibres.

"Touch it not!" exclaimed she, in a voice of agony. "Not for thy life! It is fatal!"

Then, hiding her face, she fled from him and vanished beneath the sculptured portal. As Giovanni followed her with his eyes, he beheld the emaciated figure and pale intelligence of Dr. Rappaccini, who had been watching the scene, he knew not how long, within the shadow of the entrance.

No sooner was Guasconti alone in his chamber than the image of Beatrice came back to his passionate musings, invested with all the witchery that had been gathering around it ever since his first glimpse of her, and now likewise imbued with a tender warmth of girlish womanhood. She was human; her nature was endowed with all gentle and feminine qualities; she was worthiest to be worshipped; she was capable, surely, on her part, of the height and heroism of love. Those tokens which he had hitherto considered as proofs of a frightful peculiarity in her physical and moral system were now either forgotten, or, by the subtle sophistry of passion transmitted into a golden crown of enchantment, rendering Beatrice the more admirable by so much as she was the more unique. Whatever had looked ugly was now beautiful; or, if incapable of such a change, it stole away and hid itself among those shapeless half ideas which throng the dim region beyond the daylight of our perfect consciousness. Thus did he spend the night, nor fell asleep until the dawn had begun to awake the slumbering flowers in Dr. Rappaccini's garden, whither Giovanni's dreams doubtless led him. Up rose the sun in his due season, and, flinging his beams upon the young man's eyelids, awoke him to a sense of pain. When thoroughly aroused, he became sensible of a burning and tingling agony in his hand—in his right hand—the very hand which Beatrice had grasped in her own when he was on the point of plucking one of the gemlike flowers. On the back of that hand there was now a purple print like that of four small fingers, and the likeness of a slender thumb upon his wrist.

Oh, how stubbornly does love,—or even that cunning semblance of love which flourishes in the imagination, but strikes no depth of root into the heart,—how stubbornly does it hold its faith until the moment comes when it is doomed to vanish into thin mist! Giovanni wrapped a handkerchief about his hand and wondered what evil thing had stung him, and soon forgot his pain in a reverie of Beatrice.

After the first interview, a second was in the inevitable course of what we call fate. A third; a fourth; and a meeting with Beatrice in the garden was no longer an incident in Giovanni's daily life, but the whole space in which he might be said to live; for the anticipation and memory of that ecstatic hour made up the remainder. Nor was it otherwise with the daughter of Rappaccini. She watched for the youth's appearance, and flew to his side with confidence as unreserved as if they had been playmates from early infancy—as if they were such playmates still. If, by any unwonted chance, he failed to come at the appointed moment, she stood beneath the window and sent up the rich sweetness of her tones to float around him in his chamber and echo and reverberate throughout his heart: "Giovanni! Giovanni! Why tarriest thou? Come down!" And down he hastened into that Eden of poisonous flowers.

But, with all this intimate familiarity, there was still a reserve in Beatrice's demeanor, so rigidly and invariably sustained that the idea of infringing it scarcely occurred to his imagination. By all appreciable signs, they loved; they had looked love with eyes that conveyed the holy secret from the depths of one soul into the depths of the other, as if it were too sacred to be whispered by the way; they had even spoken love in those gushes of passion when their spirits darted forth in articulated breath like tongues of long-hidden flame; and yet there had been no seal of lips, no clasp of hands, nor any slightest caress such as love claims and hallows. He had never touched one of the gleaming ringlets of her hair; her garment—so marked was the physical barrier between them—had never been waved against him by a breeze. On the few occasions when Giovanni had seemed tempted to overstep the limit, Beatrice grew so sad, so stern, and withal wore such a look of desolate separation, shuddering at itself, that not a spoken word was requisite to repel him. At such times he was startled at the horrible suspicions that rose, monster-like, out of the caverns of his heart and stared him in the face; his love grew thin and faint as the morning mist, his doubts alone had substance. But, when Beatrice's face brightened again after the momentary shadow, she was transformed at once from the mysterious, questionable being whom he had watched with so much awe and horror; she was now the beautiful and unsophisticated girl whom he felt that his spirit knew with a certainty beyond all other knowledge.

A considerable time had now passed since Giovanni's last meeting with Baglioni. One morning, however, he was disagreeably surprised by a visit from the professor, whom he had scarcely thought of for whole weeks, and would willingly have forgotten still longer. Given up as he had long been to a pervading excitement, he could tolerate no companions except upon condition of their perfect sympathy with his present state of feeling. Such sympathy was not to be expected from Professor Baglioni.

The visitor chatted carelessly for a few moments about the gossip of the city and the university, and then took up another topic.

"I have been reading an old classic author lately," said he, "and met with a story that strangely interested me. Possibly you may remember it. It is of an Indian prince, who sent a beautiful woman as a present to Alexander the Great. She was as lovely as the dawn and gorgeous as the sunset; but what especially distinguished her was a certain rich perfume in her breath—richer than a garden of Persian roses. Alexander, as was natural to a youthful conqueror, fell in love at first sight with this magnificent stranger; but a certain sage physician, happening to be present, discovered a terrible secret in regard to her."

"And what was that?" asked Giovanni, turning his eyes downward to avoid those of the professor.

"That this lovely woman," continued Baglioni, with emphasis, "had been nourished with poisons from her birth upward, until her whole nature was so imbued with them that she herself had become the deadliest poison in existence. Poison was her element of life. With that rich perfume of her breath she blasted the very air. Her love would have been poison—her embrace death. Is not this a marvellous tale?"

"A childish fable," answered Giovanni, nervously starting from his chair. "I marvel how your worship finds time to read such nonsense among your graver studies."

"By the by," said the professor, looking uneasily about him, "what singular fragrance is this in your apartment? Is it the perfume of your gloves? It is faint, but delicious; and yet, after all, by no means agreeable. Were I to breathe it long, methinks it would make me ill. It is like the breath of a flower; but I see no flowers in the chamber."

"Nor are there any," replied Giovanni, who had turned pale as the professor spoke; "nor, I think, is there any fragrance except in your worship's imagination. Odors, being a sort of element combined of the sensual and the spiritual, are apt to deceive us in this manner. The recollection of a perfume, the bare idea of it, may easily be mistaken for a present reality."

"Ay; but my sober imagination does not often play such tricks," said Baglioni; "and, were I to fancy any kind of odor, it would be that of some vile apothecary drug, wherewith my fingers are likely enough to be imbued. Our worshipful friend Rappaccini, as I have heard, tinctures his medicaments with odors richer than those of Araby. Doubtless, likewise, the fair and learned Signora Beatrice would minister to her patients with draughts as sweet as a maiden's breath; but woe to him that sips them!"

Giovanni's face evinced many contending emotions. The tone in which the professor alluded to the pure and lovely daughter of Rappaccini was a torture to his soul; and yet the intimation of a view of her character opposite to his own, gave instantaneous distinctness to a thousand dim suspicions, which now grinned at him like so many demons. But he strove hard to quell them and to respond to Baglioni with a true lover's perfect faith.

"Signor professor," said he, "you were my father's friend; perchance, too, it is your purpose to act a friendly part towards his son. I would fain feel nothing towards you save respect and deference; but I pray you to observe, signor, that there is one subject on which we must not speak. You know not the Signora Beatrice. You cannot, therefore, estimate the wrong—the blasphemy, I may even say—that is offered to her character by a light or injurious word."

"Giovanni! my poor Giovanni!" answered the professor, with a calm expression of pity, "I know this wretched girl far better than yourself. You shall hear the truth in respect to the poisoner Rappaccini and his poisonous daughter; yes, poisonous as she is beautiful. Listen; for, even should you do violence to my gray hairs, it shall not silence me. That old fable of the Indian woman has become a truth by the deep and deadly science of Rappaccini and in the person of the lovely Beatrice."

Giovanni groaned and hid his face

"Her father," continued Baglioni, "was not restrained by natural affection from offering up his child in this horrible manner as the victim of his insane zeal for science; for, let us do him justice, he is as true a man of science as ever distilled his own heart in an alembic. What, then, will be your fate? Beyond a doubt you are selected as the material of some new experiment. Perhaps the result is to be death; perhaps a fate more awful still. Rappaccini, with what he calls the interest of science before his eyes, will hesitate at nothing."

"It is a dream," muttered Giovanni to himself; "surely it is a dream."

"But," resumed the professor, "be of good cheer, son of my friend. It is not yet too late for the rescue. Possibly we may even succeed in bringing back this miserable child within the limits of ordinary nature, from which her father's madness has estranged her. Behold this little silver vase! It was wrought by the hands of the renowned Benvenuto Cellini, and is well worthy to be a love gift to the fairest dame in Italy. But its contents are invaluable. One little sip of this antidote would have rendered the most virulent poisons of the Borgias innocuous. Doubt not that it will be as efficacious against those of Rappaccini. Bestow the vase, and the precious liquid within it, on your Beatrice, and hopefully await the result."

Baglioni laid a small, exquisitely wrought silver vial on the table and withdrew, leaving what he had said to produce its effect upon the young man's mind.

"We will thwart Rappaccini yet," thought he, chuckling to himself, as he descended the stairs; "but, let us confess the truth of him, he is a wonderful man—a wonderful man indeed; a vile empiric, however, in his practice, and therefore not to be tolerated by those who respect the good old rules of the medical profession."

Throughout Giovanni's whole acquaintance with Beatrice, he had occasionally, as we have said, been haunted by dark surmises as to her character; yet so thoroughly had she made herself felt by him as a simple, natural, most affectionate, and guileless creature, that the image now held up by Professor Baglioni looked as strange and incredible as if it were not in accordance with his own original conception. True, there were ugly recollections connected with his first glimpses of the beautiful girl; he could not quite forget the bouquet that withered in her grasp, and the insect that perished amid the sunny air, by no ostensible agency save the fragrance of her breath. These incidents, however, dissolving in the pure light of her character, had no longer the efficacy of facts, but were acknowledged as mistaken fantasies, by whatever testimony of the senses they might appear to be substantiated. There is something truer and more real than what we can see with the eyes and touch with the finger. On such better evidence had Giovanni founded his confidence in Beatrice, though rather by the necessary force of her high attributes than by any deep and generous faith on his part. But now his spirit was incapable of sustaining itself at the height to which the early enthusiasm of passion had exalted it; he fell down, grovelling among earthly doubts, and defiled therewith the pure whiteness of Beatrice's image. Not that he gave her up; he did but distrust. He resolved to institute some decisive test that should satisfy him, once for all, whether there were those dreadful peculiarities in her physical nature which could not be supposed to exist without some corresponding monstrosity of soul. His eyes, gazing down afar, might have deceived him as to the lizard, the insect, and the flowers; but if he could witness, at the distance of a few paces, the sudden blight of one fresh and healthful flower in Beatrice's hand, there would be room for no further question. With this idea he hastened to the florist's and purchased a bouquet that was still gemmed with the morning dew-drops.

It was now the customary hour of his daily interview with Beatrice. Before descending into the garden, Giovanni failed not to look at his figure in the mirror,—a vanity to be expected in a beautiful young man, yet, as displaying itself at that troubled and feverish moment, the token of a certain shallowness of feeling and insincerity of character. He did gaze, however, and said to himself that his features had never before possessed so rich a grace, nor his eyes such vivacity, nor his cheeks so warm a hue of superabundant life.

"At least," thought he, "her poison has not yet insinuated itself into my system. I am no flower to perish in her grasp."

With that thought he turned his eyes on the bouquet, which he had never once laid aside from his hand. A thrill of indefinable horror shot through his frame on perceiving that those dewy flowers were already beginning to droop; they wore the aspect of things that had been fresh and lovely yesterday. Giovanni grew white as marble, and stood motionless before the mirror, staring at his own reflection there as at the likeness of something frightful. He remembered Baglioni's remark about the fragrance that seemed to pervade the chamber. It must have been the poison in his breath! Then he shuddered—shuddered at himself. Recovering from his stupor, he began to watch with curious eye a spider that was busily at work hanging its web from the antique cornice of the apartment, crossing and recrossing the artful system of interwoven lines—as vigorous and active a spider as ever dangled from an old ceiling. Giovanni bent towards the insect, and emitted a deep, long breath. The spider suddenly ceased its toil; the web vibrated with a tremor originating in the body of the small artisan. Again Giovanni sent forth a breath, deeper, longer, and imbued with a venomous feeling out of his heart: he knew not whether he were wicked, or only desperate. The spider made a convulsive gripe with his limbs and hung dead across the window.

"Accursed! accursed!" muttered Giovanni, addressing himself. "Hast thou grown so poisonous that this deadly insect perishes by thy breath?"

At that moment a rich, sweet voice came floating up from the garden.

"Giovanni! Giovanni! It is past the hour! Why tarriest thou? Come down!"

"Yes," muttered Giovanni again. "She is the only being whom my breath may not slay! Would that it might!"

He rushed down, and in an instant was standing before the bright and loving eyes of Beatrice. A moment ago his wrath and despair had been so fierce that he could have desired nothing so much as to wither her by a glance; but with her actual presence there came influences which had too real an existence to be at once shaken off: recollections of the delicate and benign power of her feminine nature, which had so often enveloped him in a religious calm; recollections of many a holy and passionate outgush of her heart, when the pure fountain had been unsealed from its depths and made visible in its transparency to his mental eye; recollections which, had Giovanni known how to estimate them, would have assured him that all this ugly mystery was but an earthly illusion, and that, whatever mist of evil might seem to have gathered over her, the real Beatrice was a heavenly angel. Incapable as he was of such high faith, still her presence had not utterly lost its magic. Giovanni's rage was quelled into an aspect of sullen insensibility. Beatrice, with a quick spiritual sense, immediately felt that there was a gulf of blackness between them which neither he nor she could pass. They walked on together, sad and silent, and came thus to the marble fountain and to its pool of water on the ground, in the midst of which grew the shrub that bore gem-like blossoms. Giovanni was affrighted at the eager enjoyment—the appetite, as it were—with which he found himself inhaling the fragrance of the flowers.

"Beatrice," asked he, abruptly, "whence came this shrub?"

"My father created it," answered she, with simplicity.

"Created it! created it!" repeated Giovanni. "What mean you, Beatrice?"

"He is a man fearfully acquainted with the secrets of Nature," replied Beatrice; "and, at the hour when I first drew breath, this plant sprang from the soil, the offspring of his science, of his intellect, while I was but his earthly child. Approach it not!" continued she, observing with terror that Giovanni was drawing nearer to the shrub. "It has qualities that you little dream of. But I, dearest Giovanni,—I grew up and blossomed with the plant and was nourished with its breath. It was my sister, and I loved it with a human affection; for, alas!—hast thou not suspected it?—there was an awful doom."

Here Giovanni frowned so darkly upon her that Beatrice paused and trembled. But her faith in his tenderness reassured her, and made her blush that she had doubted for an instant.

"There was an awful doom," she continued, "the effect of my father's fatal love of science, which estranged me from all society of my kind. Until Heaven sent thee, dearest Giovanni, oh, how lonely was thy poor Beatrice!"

"Was it a hard doom?" asked Giovanni, fixing his eyes upon her.

"Only of late have I known how hard it was," answered she, tenderly. "Oh, yes; but my heart was torpid, and therefore quiet."

Giovanni's rage broke forth from his sullen gloom like a lightning flash out of a dark cloud.

"Accursed one!" cried he, with venomous scorn and anger. "And, finding thy solitude wearisome, thou hast severed me likewise from all the warmth of life and enticed me into thy region of unspeakable horror!"

"Giovanni!" exclaimed Beatrice, turning her large bright eyes upon his face. The force of his words had not found its way into her mind; she was merely thunderstruck.

"Yes, poisonous thing!" repeated Giovanni, beside himself with passion. "Thou hast done it! Thou hast blasted me! Thou hast filled my veins with poison! Thou hast made me as hateful, as ugly, as loathsome and deadly a creature as thyself—a world's wonder of hideous monstrosity! Now, if our breath be happily as fatal to ourselves as to all others, let us join our lips in one kiss of unutterable hatred, and so die!"

"What has befallen me?" murmured Beatrice, with a low moan out of her heart. "Holy Virgin, pity me, a poor heart-broken child!"

"Thou,—dost thou pray?" cried Giovanni, still with the same fiendish scorn. "Thy very prayers, as they come from thy lips, taint the atmosphere with death. Yes, yes; let us pray! Let us to church and dip our fingers in the holy water at the portal! They that come after us will perish as by a pestilence! Let us sign crosses in the air! It will be scattering curses abroad in the likeness of holy symbols!"

"Giovanni," said Beatrice, calmly, for her grief was beyond passion, "why dost thou join thyself with me thus in those terrible words? I, it is true, am the horrible thing thou namest me. But thou,—what hast thou to do, save with one other shudder at my hideous misery to go forth out of the garden and mingle with thy race, and forget there ever crawled on earth such a monster as poor Beatrice?"

"Dost thou pretend ignorance?" asked Giovanni, scowling upon her. "Behold! this power have I gained from the pure daughter of Rappaccini."

There was a swarm of summer insects flitting through the air in search of the food promised by the flower odors of the fatal garden. They circled round Giovanni's head, and were evidently attracted towards him by the same influence which had drawn them for an instant within the sphere of several of the shrubs. He sent forth a breath among them, and smiled bitterly at Beatrice as at least a score of the insects fell dead upon the ground.

"I see it! I see it!" shrieked Beatrice. "It is my father's fatal science! No, no, Giovanni; it was not I! Never! never! I dreamed only to love thee and be with thee a little time, and so to let thee pass away, leaving but thine image in mine heart; for, Giovanni, believe it, though my body be nourished with poison, my spirit is God's creature, and craves love as its daily food. But my father,—he has united us in this fearful sympathy. Yes; spurn me, tread upon me, kill me! Oh, what is death after such words as thine? But it was not I. Not for a world of bliss would I have done it."

Giovanni's passion had exhausted itself in its outburst from his lips. There now came across him a sense, mournful, and not without tenderness, of the intimate and peculiar relationship between Beatrice and himself. They stood, as it were, in an utter solitude, which would be made none the less solitary by the densest throng of human life. Ought not, then, the desert of humanity around them to press this insulated pair closer together? If they should be cruel to one another, who was there to be kind to them? Besides, thought Giovanni, might there not still be a hope of his returning within the limits of ordinary nature, and leading Beatrice, the redeemed Beatrice, by the hand? O, weak, and selfish, and unworthy spirit, that could dream of an earthly union and earthly happiness as possible, after such deep love had been so bitterly wronged as was Beatrice's love by Giovanni's blighting words! No, no; there could be no such hope. She must pass heavily, with that broken heart, across the borders of Time—she must bathe her hurts in some fount of paradise, and forget her grief in the light of immortality, and THERE be well.

But Giovanni did not know it.

"Dear Beatrice," said he, approaching her, while she shrank away as always at his approach, but now with a different impulse, "dearest Beatrice, our fate is not yet so desperate. Behold! there is a medicine, potent, as a wise physician has assured me, and almost divine in its efficacy. It is composed of ingredients the most opposite to those by which thy awful father has brought this calamity upon thee and me. It is distilled of blessed herbs. Shall we not quaff it together, and thus be purified from evil?"

"Give it me!" said Beatrice, extending her hand to receive the little silver vial which Giovanni took from his bosom. She added, with a peculiar emphasis, "I will drink; but do thou await the result."

She put Baglioni's antidote to her lips; and, at the same moment, the figure of Rappaccini emerged from the portal and came slowly towards the marble fountain. As he drew near, the pale man of science seemed to gaze with a triumphant expression at the beautiful youth and maiden, as might an artist who should spend his life in achieving a picture or a group of statuary and finally be satisfied with his success. He paused; his bent form grew erect with conscious power; he spread out his hands over them in the attitude of a father imploring a blessing upon his children; but those were the same hands that had thrown poison into the stream of their lives. Giovanni trembled. Beatrice shuddered nervously, and pressed her hand upon her heart.

"My daughter," said Rappaccini, "thou art no longer lonely in the world. Pluck one of those precious gems from thy sister shrub and bid thy bridegroom wear it in his bosom. It will not harm him now. My science and the sympathy between thee and him have so wrought within his system that he now stands apart from common men, as thou dost, daughter of my pride and triumph, from ordinary women. Pass on, then, through the world, most dear to one another and dreadful to all besides!"

"My father," said Beatrice, feebly,—and still as she spoke she kept her hand upon her heart,—"wherefore didst thou inflict this miserable doom upon thy child?"

"Miserable!" exclaimed Rappaccini. "What mean you, foolish girl? Dost thou deem it misery to be endowed with marvellous gifts against which no power nor strength could avail an enemy—misery, to be able to quell the mightiest with a breath—misery, to be as terrible as thou art beautiful? Wouldst thou, then, have preferred the condition of a weak woman, exposed to all evil and capable of none?"

"I would fain have been loved, not feared," murmured Beatrice, sinking down upon the ground. "But now it matters not. I am going, father, where the evil which thou hast striven to mingle with my being will pass away like a dream-like the fragrance of these poisonous flowers, which will no longer taint my breath among the flowers of Eden. Farewell, Giovanni! Thy words of hatred are like lead within my heart; but they, too, will fall away as I ascend. Oh, was there not, from the first, more poison in thy nature than in mine?"

To Beatrice,—so radically had her earthly part been wrought upon by Rappaccini's skill,—as poison had been life, so the powerful antidote was death; and thus the poor victim of man's ingenuity and of thwarted nature, and of the fatality that attends all such efforts of perverted wisdom, perished there, at the feet of her father and Giovanni. Just at that moment Professor Pietro Baglioni looked forth from the window, and called loudly, in a tone of triumph mixed with horror, to the thunderstricken man of science, "Rappaccini! Rappaccini! and is THIS the upshot of your experiment!"

[quickdisco]

1382. Simon & Garfunkel - The Collection (Columbia - 2007)

Intégrale des albums studio du plus beau duo folk du monde. Et DVD du concert à Central Park.

Mettez un immense songwriter face à son interprète et créez la légende, depuis les balbutiements pour scouts extatiques jusqu’aux sommets pop du  dernier album.

He Was My Brother (Wednesday Morning, 3 A.M.)

The Sounds Of Silence (et accessoirement la plus belle chanson du monde ou presque) (The Sounds Of Silence)

Flowers Never Bend With The Rainfall (Parsley, Sage, Rosemary & Thyme)

America (Bookends)

Bridge Over Troubled Waters (Bridge Over Troubled Water)

Kodachrome / Mabellene (The Concert In Central Park)

Discogs1

Discogs2

Discogs3

Discogs4