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The Fortune of the Rougons, by Emile Zola, translated by Brian Nelson

Reading Zola’s fascinating L’Ouevre (The Masterpiece)-

Lisa Hill's avatarThe Books of Émile Zola

The Fortune of the RougonsAfter I read Germinal a couple of years ago (see my review), Émile Zola became one of those authors that I really wanted to read more of, but it was not until I saw the BBC series based on The Ladies’ Paradiseand read the novel (see my review) that I decided to begin a long-term project to read them all. I’ve enjoyed reading this one, The Fortune of the Rougons, which puts the whole sequence into perspective.

With Les Rougon-Macquart, Zola apparently set out to emulate Balzac’s La Comedie Humaine but his 20-volume cycle differs in two significant ways: it consists of novels rather than short stories and novellas, and it focusses on a single family rather than a whole society. Zola believed in the fatalistic effects of heredity and environment, and so the novels trace three branches of the Rougon-Macquart family: the aspirational…

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Domestic Architecture of Pre-Revolutionary Moscow 1

Looks elegant must read “Natasha’s Dance” properly.

Fëanor's avatarArt of the Russias

This series of posts comprises a few loosely translated extracts from Bolshoi Gorod, a fine Russian magazine of art and culture. In April this year, they did a small series on pre-Revolutionary private dwellings in Moscow, and these seemed of artistic interest in this blog. The tragedy is that it’s impossible for the average man-on-the-street to enter these residences, which are closed to the public even on the two days of the year (April 18, May 18) that are named Days of Culture, and it took nearly half a year of attrition and persuasion for Bolshoi Gorod to obtain access.

Alexandrinsky Palace

In 1754, Matryona Demidova, the wife of Prokofy Demidov, son of the Ural-based factory-man, bought lands from the Countess Repnin. Two years later, the baroque Demidov palace was constructed under the aegis of the Prague-based architect Jecht (I’m not sure I’m spelling this right and can’t find any…

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Literature Poetry

Gewitter im Winter by Karl Kraus

Gewitter im Winter

Allbekant sind jene Blitze                                                                                                                    Winter2
hergebracht vom blauen Dunst.
Wettern sie durch Sommerhitze,
ist’s Natur und keine Kunst.

Aber wenn im Frost erzittert
jeglicher Naturbesitz,
welch ein Wunder, wie’s gewittert!
Und den Winter traf der Blitz.

• The Kraus Project by Jonathan Franzen is published by Harper Collins on 1 October. To pre-order it for £15.19 with free UK p&p call Guardian book service on 0330 333 6846 or go to guardianbookshop.co.uk.

There is a review of this at http://www.theguardian.com/books/2013/sep/13/jonathan-franzen-wrong-modern-world

Clive James on Kraus can be found at http://www.clivejames.com/karl-kraus

Kraus 2

Winter

Ich möcht liegen und schlafen
und schlafen die ewige Ruh
ich wollt’, die Engelein kämen
und drückten die Augen mir zu.

Ich wollt’ ich wollt’ es wär Winter
und Alles in ewigen Schnee,
und Winter, ewiger Winter,
er deckte auch mich und mein Weh.
O Winter, ewiger Winter!
Mir bangt vor der eisigen Ruh

Doch weiss ich, die Engelein kämen
Und drückten die Augen mir zu.

Karl Siebel

Winter1

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Book Reviews Literature

Penelope Fitzgerald: A Life by Hermione Lee

PFA major and intelligent novelist like Penelope Fitzgerald has happily become the subject of a sensitive and engaging biographer, Hermione Lee. The result is enthralling; a work which is entertaining, informative and profound. In an earlier essay, A Quiet Ghost, Lee mentions interviewing Fitzgerald on the radio in 1997. Two impressions struck the interviewer. First, how her novels always seemed to leave something unsaid. They contained some mysterious, perhaps even transcendental quality to stimulate the reader’s imagination. On the other hand, Fitzgerald thought that the writer ought not to be impartial and indeed should be clear about her own moral position. This viewpoint drew her to write both eloquently and sympathetically, of those who are born to be defeated, the weakness of the strong and the tragedy of…..missed opportunities.

Penelope Fitzgerald came from an earnest and renowned academic family, the Knoxes, which included several prominent clerics; her grandfather was the Bishop of Manchester. A considerable biographer herself, she wrote a book on the Knox brothers, these included two Oxford pastors (one of whom, Ronald Knox, converted to Catholicism, was famous as a biblical translator and whilst chaplain at Trinity College became a mentor to the future prime minister, Harold Macmillan), a top Bletchley cryptographic analyst and Penelope’s own eminent father, ‘Evoe’ who was editor of Punch. Fitzgerald wrote prolifically from childhood and fulfilled some of these high expectations by gaining a brilliant First at Somerville. Graduating in 1938, she was already known for her membership of the smart set, for her student journalism and a reticent, indeed peremptory manner. Women could not actually graduate at Oxford until a statute was passed in 1920. Hence she was amongst Oxford’s early women graduates. Her striking appearance within the smart set earned her the nickname of the blonde bombshell.PF5

Hermione Lee usefully reminds her readers of other contemporary writers throughout her account; that Iris Murdoch was to arrive at Somerville in 1939. A.S.Byatt is referred to somewhat wryly and the influences of Rose Macaulay and Stevie Smith as friends outlined. This is an unashamedly literary biography and wonderfully so. The importance of the Georgian poets and the Poetry Bookshop in Bloomsbury to Charlotte Mew, whose biography Fitzgerald’s wrote, are entertainingly conveyed. Hermione Lee conveys her subject’s deep capacity for diligent background research and put this across deftly. Her account too shows great depth of feeling for the plight of that generation of women who had to face both the devastation of bombing and the scars of war on men like her husband, Desmond, who had fought bravely in Italy with the Irish Guards. Post traumatic stress was not then fully recognised. Her attempts to cope with his drunkenness and criminality and still look after her three children underline Penelope Fitzgerald’s tenacity and courage.

During the Blitz, Fitzgerald was writing as a recording assistant at the ocean liner of Broadcasting House. The courage shown by the staff, their tasks and relationships, quarrels and difficulties became the material for her novel, Human Voices. This work showed her ear for conversation, propaganda and announcements. Not only was this a war where radio played a historical role in rallying the nation, it broadcast De Gaulle’s speeches to invigorate the Free French. Hermione Lee is magnificently instructive on how the writer’s experiences are turned into a thought-provoking novel.

Hermione Lee
Hermione Lee

In the early fifties Desmond Fitzgerald, then an Irish lawyer, became the editor of an influential literary review. However, Penelope provided the drive behind the international World Review. This project was successful in publishing a panoply of significant authors including major figures like Bertrand Russell and Walter de La Mare as well as the about to become successful J.D.Salinger. Not only did this publication crumble in this era of austerity but it seemed to herald the most distressing period of her career. Although, she was associated in two great enlightened projects that many will recall; BBC school broadcasting and writing for Marcus Morris who brought out the EagleGirl and Swift. Not the least of the pleasures of perusing this book is the facsimile reproductions, little drawings and evocative photographs.

The difficulties which the Fitzgerald family faced in the early Sixties culminated in the sinking of the houseboat on which they were living in Battersea. This and the consequent homelessness are heart-rending to read. However, the resulting novel, Offshore was to win her the Booker Prize in 1979. Her greatest work is considered to be her short enigmatic historical novel, The Blue Flower (1995). It retells the entrancing love story of the German Romantic poet, Novalis. Hermione Lee’s exposition of this short work is a tour de force in itself. To conclude, this is a marvellous biography that shows how Fitzgerald’s remarkable determination finally gained her recognition in her sixties. Author and subject demonstrate the same exuberant curiosity.

The poet Novalis -about whom "The Blue Flower" is concerned
The poet Novalis -about whom “The Blue Flower” is concerned
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Poetry Uncategorized

Altes Kaminstück von Heinrich Heine

Altes Kaminstück – Old chimney piece – von: / from: Heinrich Heine. (1797 – 1856)

Snowf

Draußen ziehen weiße Flocken / Outside all white flakes are drawn / durch die Nacht, der Sturm ist laut; / through the night, the storm is loud; / hier im Stübchen ist es trocken, / here in the little room it is dry, / warm und einsam, still vertraut. / warm and lonely quiet familiar.

Sinnend sitz ich auf dem Sessel, / Brooding I am sitting on the armchair, / an dem knisternden Kamin, / close at the crackling fireplace, / kochend summt der Wasserkessel / boiling hums the kettle / längst verklungene Melodien. / long fading melodies.

Und ein Kätzchen sitzt daneben, / And a kitten sitting next to it, / wärmt die Pfötchen an der Glut; / warms their paws on the embers; / und die Flammen schweben, weben, / and the flames are floating, weaving, / wundersam wird mir zu Mut. / wondrous feeling all in me.

Dämmernd kommt heraufgestiegen, / Dawning is ascending, / manche längst vergessene Zeit, / some long forgetting time, / wie mit bunten Maskenzügen / as with colorful masks and tails / und verblichener Herrlichkeit. / and departed glory.

Chimn

Forest

Chimn2

(Thanks to http://german.about.com/b/2013/12/02/the-hidden-christmas-tree.htm?nl=1)

The full poem may be found at http://de.wikisource.org/wiki/Altes_Kaminst%C3%BCck

“Altes Kaminstück” musikalisch interpretiert von meelman & Roman Symanski 2012 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Uz0afvRbOus

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Gluckel of Hameln: Jewish Women in the 17th Century

A fascinating story of an amazing woman……

Henry Abramson's avatarHenry Abramson

Lecture Sponsored by Judy Seed

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The tercentenary of the Treaty of Utrecht (1713)

The treaty of Utrecht has been rather ignored in the public sphere. Gibraltar and Britain’s “right” to the slave trade may partially explain why the 300th anniversary has had little attention and yet it was important at the time and provided a temporary peace-

rechtsgeschiedenis's avatarRechtsgeschiedenis Blog

Logo Vrede van Utrecht - Peace of Utrecht

In 2012 I wrote twice about the Peace of Utrecht, the series of treaties which ended the War of the Spanish Succession (1702-1713). The first post looked in great detail at the textual tradition of the Westphalian Peace of 1648, the Peace of Utrecht and the Peace of Aix-la-Chapelle (1748). The post contains an overview of treaty collections and relevant websites for historical treaties. In my second post I looked at Early Modern peace treaties more generally and I tried to summarize the results of my first post and to bring together some elements for a search strategy. One of my main points was these peace treaties are indeed treaties in the plural. The Peace of Utrecht consists of 22 treaties, counting also the treaties concluded at Baden (1714) and Rastatt (1715). On April 11, 1713 seven separate treaties were concluded. Last week it was exactly 300 years ago that…

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Penwith St Ives West Cornwall (and local history)

A Brief Memoir of Downlong in St Ives some sixty years ago

In the fifties, there were no flowers in hanging baskets or even in window boxes and the main smell downlong was of  fish and tarred nets, On the other hand there were houses built upon greenstone masses where you might well find a profusion of sea pinks in clumps. Heading along Back Road West towards the Digey, there were many village shops, including general grocers like Georgie Wedge’s at the top of Bethesda Hill, where everything from sweets to biscuits were sold out of glass topped tin boxes and placed in small neat paper bags. There was another grocers, Roucefield’s which did a smart trade in St Eia street, where many folk  in downlong had celebrated the Coronation, beneath festoons of flags in red , white and blue. The fare on this occasion consisted of saffron buns and bottles of corona served on long trestle tables. There was also a wool shop, at the end of Island Road where women discussed knitting patterns for winter jerseys or Fair Isle jumpers.Print2

At the top of Fish Street the gentle and well spoken, Mrs Laposta ran a  busy and popular fruit and vegetable stores just opposite Couch’s works which at this time employed more than 50 workers making parts like buoyancy trimmers for amphibious vehicles for the British Army on the Rhine. Two further venues in Back Road West were particularly intriguing. Further along before the Mariner’s Church, the house where pilchards were marinated in fish spice, vinegar and bay leaves which was accessed at the top of a steep staircase. It cost just a few shillings and a suitably large dish for a dozen had to be left, a few days before. Even more interesting for youngsters on a Saturday morning visit was the Laity Museum. This was crammed with models of tea clippers and Chinese junks, scrimshaw, and intricate furniture and dark sea chests inlaid with mother of pearl. Redolent in atmosphere of the clipper trade with the Far East, from jute to silk, spices and calico, there were contemplative jade Buddhas and several examples of fierce black Japanese armour. Further information, histories of the sea and tales of the Orient were liberally supplied by the ancient mariner who was the proud curator at this period of time.

Print1

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Paris Sunset: 3 Drinks with Vintage Zest

Nostalgia for the Marais at l’heure bleue

Theadora Brack's avatarParis: People, Places and Bling

By Theadora Brack

I’ve said it once, and I’ll play it again, Sam. The mere sight of the Paris rooftops at l’heure bleue has never failed to give me a thrill. Larger than life, I’m transfixed. I tumble flat.

Reaching for Henry Miller: “In Paris, on the asphalt, I have often walked saying: wild, wild, wild. You just say it, and walk, walk, walk. It makes everything rise, swell, burst. Then I am so happy I cannot bear it any more and I begin to sing. It is cause for bliss. You can get drunk on walking.” Oh, Henry!

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Das ist der Herbst bei Theodor Storm

TS2Das ist der Herbst; die Blätter fliegen,
Durch nackte Zweige fährt der Wind;
Es schwankt das Schiff, die Segel schwellen –
Leb wohl, du reizend Schifferkind! —
Sie schaute mit den klaren Augen
Vom Bord des Schiffes unverwandt,
Und Grüße einer fremden Sprache
Schickte sie wieder und wieder ans Land.
Am Ufer standen wir und hielten
Den Segler mit den Augen fest –
Das ist der Herbst! wo alles Leben
Und alle Schönheit uns verläßt.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3_zHjPRo1oc

St Levab

TS1