tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-43328398415876433562024-03-14T21:19:22.012+10:00Teranga and Sun"Il n'est que d'écouter les trombones de Dieu, ton coeur battre au rythme du sang, ton sang." - Léopold Sédar SenghorUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger131125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4332839841587643356.post-27162931391166510302023-11-12T03:26:00.007+10:002023-11-12T04:34:43.878+10:00The Signare of Gorée - Cover Reveal<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9UUZb2BmbFGjFPqelFmGYr2O1ptMzYfV0xXRyZbJsjCr_kV8Xo5kLN6ArJaW1JyMg0tK9VK4zQOp4FSDLAH4AmzNIFYbv3RUoEwECfAXJXin7qhN7TvMuRc3Ga66MHtX6gmnMeWZKWjtZqRVt65zB20RcTzqLwYfCR7x3JTXy-XQqR01iSEzEbPRac2eF/s3855/The%20Signare%20of%20Gor%C3%A9e%20RGB.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2775" data-original-width="3855" height="288" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9UUZb2BmbFGjFPqelFmGYr2O1ptMzYfV0xXRyZbJsjCr_kV8Xo5kLN6ArJaW1JyMg0tK9VK4zQOp4FSDLAH4AmzNIFYbv3RUoEwECfAXJXin7qhN7TvMuRc3Ga66MHtX6gmnMeWZKWjtZqRVt65zB20RcTzqLwYfCR7x3JTXy-XQqR01iSEzEbPRac2eF/w400-h288/The%20Signare%20of%20Gor%C3%A9e%20RGB.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><p><br /></p><p>Before she could blink, she was 48 years old and pined for glimpses of her hometown. And it was just as well she was deep into 1840s Senegal, a world where few have traveled before, while those that have truly seen it are long gone. But we can make them return with a little imagination, can't we? We can create magical characters and spin a mystery. </p><p>You must know that life is short and time is running out for me. This is why these days, my blog is sparse in content. All my efforts, you see, are poured into writing, researching, keeping myself fed, staying mildly connected to the increasingly narcissistic 21st century, and time-traveling to places that will hopefully inspire my future novels.</p><p>Not much to say, still working on honing my upcoming historical novel set in Senegal, but in the meantime, here is the full cover by graphic designer extraordinaire, Ross Robinson. </p><p>I love it and hope you do too.</p><p><b><i>The Signare of Gorée</i></b> will be released in September 2024 </p><p>You can already <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/75378525-the-signare-of-gor-e" target="_blank">add it to your to-read shelf on Goodreads</a>, and if you read books on Kindle, it is <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Signare-Gor%C3%A9e-Laura-Rahme-ebook/dp/B0CLXRXMML" target="_blank">available for pre-order on Amazon</a>, worldwide.</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKB866scQU-RxcTeUiF28ED9XHvWpieyyW-LTZuEu32G13E5f76muvpyEIYYecZ-NtCsdX96XKaPALAIxiyKrlP-gAr87vH2UdLeR0muiUDJBch2HgvGw3owD1v-Gx2WhtWn2iaTNTDp3HuFWosoSN8ZTLOaZw1lnY66Z-SiZizq-mvv_vKUNSkQAfgK-p/s900/Tam-Tam%20%C3%A0%20Gor%C3%A9e%20-%20Fran%C3%A7ois%20dOrleans%20aquarelle%201837.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="900" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKB866scQU-RxcTeUiF28ED9XHvWpieyyW-LTZuEu32G13E5f76muvpyEIYYecZ-NtCsdX96XKaPALAIxiyKrlP-gAr87vH2UdLeR0muiUDJBch2HgvGw3owD1v-Gx2WhtWn2iaTNTDp3HuFWosoSN8ZTLOaZw1lnY66Z-SiZizq-mvv_vKUNSkQAfgK-p/w400-h266/Tam-Tam%20%C3%A0%20Gor%C3%A9e%20-%20Fran%C3%A7ois%20dOrleans%20aquarelle%201837.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p style="text-align: center;">Folgar...on Gorée island.</p><p> </p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4332839841587643356.post-72559335113433793922023-07-10T06:06:00.007+10:002023-07-10T06:20:33.471+10:00The Signare of Gorée - a historical mystery set in 1840s Senegal<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLttgs8tl8lbctLk5guvuEH7r1nbc_KCrwWsyuj0p9ImUgLh8fYDmY-Vzx-Nz0MoKNjIVD1k7z_LAVUELheli9K8wrbuutWoWpDY-2E2JYkBntigN-r7p9IsxO_t_h9grA8VGqBIL8J0RhsUh7faKE-WIBtI16dOcn1e3BUHfHYQe90RuRWJnNH0Nj7Jln/s2500/TSOG%20Cover%20Only.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2500" data-original-width="1667" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLttgs8tl8lbctLk5guvuEH7r1nbc_KCrwWsyuj0p9ImUgLh8fYDmY-Vzx-Nz0MoKNjIVD1k7z_LAVUELheli9K8wrbuutWoWpDY-2E2JYkBntigN-r7p9IsxO_t_h9grA8VGqBIL8J0RhsUh7faKE-WIBtI16dOcn1e3BUHfHYQe90RuRWJnNH0Nj7Jln/w266-h400/TSOG%20Cover%20Only.jpg" width="266" /></a></div><br />I have a new book coming out in 2024 and here is the cover. I hope you like it. <p></p><p>1840s Senegal seems worlds apart from my current home in Brittany. While writing this book, I could not be further estranged from Victorian England where I set the first Maurice Leroux detective novel, <i>Calista.</i> </p><p>This story takes place two years earlier than <i>Calista</i>. It is 1846 and Inspector Maurice Leroux finds himself on Gorée Island alongside my ancestor, Lieutenant Leopold Candeau who will be his Watson during the investigation. </p><p>Nothing pleases me more than assembling puzzles and breathing life into historical figures: Gorée's métis mayor, Armand Laporte; his daughter, the signare Constance Laporte; her husband, the Bordeaux entrepreneur Hilaire Maurel; the famous signare Anna Colas Pépin (who inherited THE house you might have heard of whenever you read about Gorée); and glimpses of one of Senegal's first catholic priests, Abbé Boilat from whom we have acquired many illustrations from this period.</p><p>Yet I am most enthralled by my lead signare, Angélique Aussenac. The lady on the cover. She is already one of my favorite characters EVER! </p><p>For months now, I have been researching my birth country's history, its people, their beliefs and that fascinating period existing between the abolition of the transatlantic slave trade in 1817 (soon after the Congress of Vienna) and France's abolition of slavery in 1848. It is a period of shifting mentalities, of moral and economic reckoning, a period that would forever change the pulse and purpose of Gorée Island. </p><p>I have spoken so little about this novel and its premise because it is still my secret place. I will try to add to this post over time. </p><p>There is a trailer on Youtube for now. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/MLhWsgNRTXA" width="320" youtube-src-id="MLhWsgNRTXA"></iframe></div><br /><p>The rest I guard it close to my chest. </p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4332839841587643356.post-26827979693779053082023-01-25T08:41:00.004+10:002023-01-25T08:46:22.157+10:00Review: Order of the Dragon - Book One by Lisa J Yarde<p><span style="font-family: georgia;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbMjf04Qjcq9hPIutj4oShLjwULWLVRzrLCACSczbqLnpRW7FnsfyNsa_rAYzUogpXaP_UWFzp-xJrty_U3jXWgQAcPi08V96hIl0Hscan-IrIjaKD9vaMivZ1DIYL8Ajs6nAbNl0iF4uigJqHn1vX6_d5Z5UBBbsfeUVEyODkJfEa-ych54Yr4Qn38g/s899/BarboraBellifortis.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="899" data-original-width="614" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbMjf04Qjcq9hPIutj4oShLjwULWLVRzrLCACSczbqLnpRW7FnsfyNsa_rAYzUogpXaP_UWFzp-xJrty_U3jXWgQAcPi08V96hIl0Hscan-IrIjaKD9vaMivZ1DIYL8Ajs6nAbNl0iF4uigJqHn1vX6_d5Z5UBBbsfeUVEyODkJfEa-ych54Yr4Qn38g/w274-h400/BarboraBellifortis.jpg" width="274" /></a></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">A 15th century illustration depicting an equestrian figure </span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">previously identified as Cillei Borbála</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">one of the key founders of the Order of the Dragon</span></span></div><p></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><i><br /></i></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><i>Order of the Dragon : Book One</i> by <a href="http://teranga-and-sun.blogspot.com/2017/02/writers-on-couch-lisa-j-yarde_15.html" target="_blank">Lisa J. Yarde</a> is the fictionalised biography and character portrayal of Dracula's father, Vlad II Dracul, also known as Vlad the Dragon. Grand and colourful, this historical novel spans the years 1408 to 1432, from Vlad the Dragon's youth to his early years as a father. Those curious about the real Dracula or Vlad the Impaler might be tempted to skip this book and wait until the other book instalments, but this would be a mistake. The life and times of Vlad the Dragon are so richly fascinating that readers would miss out on a journey of epic scale.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">This novel is beautifully written and what lingers most for me is the depth of language and insights. There are many quotes that moved me, like,</span></p><p><i><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">“What was life and a man’s existence, except a test of his faith and resolve?”</span></i></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">Because this is after all a novel about a historical male figure, I want to stress that I really enjoyed the accent on Vlad’s character study. A thoughtful quote from an antiquity philosopher introduces each chapter, hinting to the passage’s themes and the life lessons that are to be learned, presumably by Vlad. Our main character begins his arc as a discontented and impulsive youth who has yet to acquire patience, gratitude, and strategic acumen. Throughout many years he will nurse political ambitions over his brothers, deep resentment toward the Turks, and later pay heed to a prophecy announcing his betrayal. He will be wary, not only of his lifelong enemy but also of his best friend. This last trait imbues one of the final scenes with a power I rarely felt in any novel. The passage is extremely well-written in its suspense and the complex emotions it stirs. It was a well-executed climax, drawing together all Vlad had experienced, and rendering his reactions highly plausible. Be ready for a surprise.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcejUT1t9EyyD8BBJlIeaClWxKGFHMdvV661hew1Z0dD04_567YihrCrc7myPcfv_KXJYCgSgvL1A-eELrhw_d97kTVKYJFp0MrlgZaHSNOFofGiFMcyaFy9g-_MYxse6Q5E55GG7fa9VJ-dWk_i9JP_NKF4wigy1hxLqgykuUg-NP4vqDiHqFIESU6Q/s500/Order%20of%20the%20Dragon.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="333" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcejUT1t9EyyD8BBJlIeaClWxKGFHMdvV661hew1Z0dD04_567YihrCrc7myPcfv_KXJYCgSgvL1A-eELrhw_d97kTVKYJFp0MrlgZaHSNOFofGiFMcyaFy9g-_MYxse6Q5E55GG7fa9VJ-dWk_i9JP_NKF4wigy1hxLqgykuUg-NP4vqDiHqFIESU6Q/w266-h400/Order%20of%20the%20Dragon.jpg" width="266" /></a></div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div>Never perfect, but of admirable character is our Vlad. The book’s in-depth study has the quality of reinforcing our curiosity about the son. For what could cause a boy raised by a decent father to eventually become a monster, as hinted by a name like Vlad the Impaler? It is hard not be curious about how events will unfold in subsequent books, if only to answer this question.</span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">But onto the story. It takes place in a period wrought with war between Christendom and the Ottomans and this same tension is palpable in Vlad's intense hatred for the Turks who wage regular attacks into his homeland of Wallachia.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">When we first meet Vlad, he is attempting a daring escape from home with his beloved twin sister, Arina. There are many things Vlad reproaches his father, the Voivode of Wallachia, not least that Prince Mircea has sold Arina as a betrothed to secure an alliance with the Turks. Arina's fate will haunt Vlad for many years to come.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG2V0bdnqCFTjPJj6dMnwZoJyZopOWLYejOViYJwbmhgdSf_S6M2VL5TIXyhv302Ip6h6zR67neGsaWXTRNqgya9tY31PvRIqVvDRdLvbaf-strKowhS2BE4Qva1bLUK9ujZpnz78qgB2mwXUJ--1uPsR3TlrekaFtOuW45NOk-1wHVyr7D5ZaqRAhEg/s1438/Buda%20Castle.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="663" data-original-width="1438" height="185" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG2V0bdnqCFTjPJj6dMnwZoJyZopOWLYejOViYJwbmhgdSf_S6M2VL5TIXyhv302Ip6h6zR67neGsaWXTRNqgya9tY31PvRIqVvDRdLvbaf-strKowhS2BE4Qva1bLUK9ujZpnz78qgB2mwXUJ--1uPsR3TlrekaFtOuW45NOk-1wHVyr7D5ZaqRAhEg/w400-h185/Buda%20Castle.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Buda Castle from the Nuremberg Chronicle, 1493</div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">Vlad is sent to Buda Castle in Hungary where begins his lifelong servitude to King Zsigmond. Through training, battles, tournaments, banquets and more adventures, he befriends an incredible cast of historical characters and through his eyes, we live through key dramatic events in Eastern European history.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">During his service to King Zsigmond, the wicked queen Cillei Borbála will taunt Vlad and cause him great harm. Yet I found this woman captivating for several reasons, one being that Vlad soon learns of the Order of the Dragon, a secret confederacy of knights at the service of King Zsigmond which according to rumours was jointly formed by the queen. In all, I grew to respect Borbála and hope to read more of her in the next book in the series.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgknNM3z74-ydXLDNEVkedayIPabTjbTSx78oEliOhtRRBw5EgMCRjQQQotdjn22XVLXzdj4zOnZI5LAO6YP3zzy9hQDVcX5RhWvCGEFnxf70C0w-Xb3d1OU5uvv78sfdMYtdwzBSZt1PK5TX2EzbpspRll-DRvKMKM8XYiE7yu6OGcyAxhfdxUVmxpUg/s747/Olivera%20Despina.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="747" data-original-width="474" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgknNM3z74-ydXLDNEVkedayIPabTjbTSx78oEliOhtRRBw5EgMCRjQQQotdjn22XVLXzdj4zOnZI5LAO6YP3zzy9hQDVcX5RhWvCGEFnxf70C0w-Xb3d1OU5uvv78sfdMYtdwzBSZt1PK5TX2EzbpspRll-DRvKMKM8XYiE7yu6OGcyAxhfdxUVmxpUg/w254-h400/Olivera%20Despina.jpg" width="254" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Milena Olivera a Serbian princess, also known as Despina Hatun</div><div style="text-align: center;"> became the wife of Ottoman Sultan Bayezid I in a bid for peace.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Both were captives of Timur after the Battle of Ankara (1402)</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><p></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">Romance-wise the story delves wonderfully into Vlad’s conflicted relationship with two fascinating women, one of which is no other than Cneajna of Moldavia who is gifted with strange prophetic powers and fated to become Dracula’s mother. Yet what I found most touching was the novel’s reverence toward friendship. Each of Vlad’s friends – the awe-inspiring Polish black knight, Zawisza Czarny, the love-thwarted and later canonized Queen Jadwiga of Poland, the warm and mystical Milena Olivera (Mileva Olivera Lazarević) an ex-consort to an ottoman sultan, and the Bulgarian noble, Fruzhin - are each worth their own novel. They were a treat to discover because Lisa J. Yarde is adept at painting well-rounded peripheral characters.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuQZO8aSFUYxNfJEfQzKHT2KsXK-fym2Kae1I_KPyOYxTz1HdTpbFRhN_hbA-DJ_pkzN-X5Ml7F7QmYkHdxVOeXxJ0TttPLC5Lb_l7ubG2xVtNckovzp0tLSr6SA2d5eJVtUR7mXf0mFTFkbaLYm0EfMedmS4aMmstsKZwMnOdpXFtRVCjXXwXEt-9cQ/s574/Scibor2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="574" data-original-width="482" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuQZO8aSFUYxNfJEfQzKHT2KsXK-fym2Kae1I_KPyOYxTz1HdTpbFRhN_hbA-DJ_pkzN-X5Ml7F7QmYkHdxVOeXxJ0TttPLC5Lb_l7ubG2xVtNckovzp0tLSr6SA2d5eJVtUR7mXf0mFTFkbaLYm0EfMedmS4aMmstsKZwMnOdpXFtRVCjXXwXEt-9cQ/w336-h400/Scibor2.jpg" width="336" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Stibor of Stiboricz, a member of the Order of the Dragon </div><div style="text-align: center;">who will train Vlad in combat.</div><p></p><p><br /></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">Those who enjoy culture and travel through literature will find pleasure in <i>Order of the Dragon</i>. It begins in today’s Romania, moves onto Hungary, today’s Slovakia, spends a while in Konstanz in Germany, later in Bohemia or today’s Czech Republic, followed by Poland, depicts a major battle in Serbia, travels to what is now Nuremberg in Germany to finally end in the birth town of Dracula, Sighișoara in Transylvania.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">A novel of this breadth and depth is never easily undertaken and this speaks volumes about the author’s talent and historical research skills. When the journey draws to a close, one feels both enriched and curious to know more about the period. Thank goodness, there will be other books in the series.</span></p><div><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4332839841587643356.post-18123418395944923702023-01-17T06:23:00.007+10:002023-01-17T06:27:56.636+10:00Le Secret de Chantilly - la biographie romancée du cuisinier Antonin Carême<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoSWDv_p38kNtAnrbWXTJSt97T7OxC7vS-_RxK-Ivd7ZcSoIIArX8f48f9DGuTZnJOdUdg1XEzqLSdAH_QVxALa4R7lDaa3KZF4w6iKAVd6fFVhLyRSGPhtZSQhRjHRNYQ5BUlnH7Vj_B3VP33qwp66r8dUw83WFCPEtppPfPQW4KyeUNqiuwbXAwATA/s2768/The%20Secret%20of%20Chantilly%20Kindle.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2768" data-original-width="1878" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoSWDv_p38kNtAnrbWXTJSt97T7OxC7vS-_RxK-Ivd7ZcSoIIArX8f48f9DGuTZnJOdUdg1XEzqLSdAH_QVxALa4R7lDaa3KZF4w6iKAVd6fFVhLyRSGPhtZSQhRjHRNYQ5BUlnH7Vj_B3VP33qwp66r8dUw83WFCPEtppPfPQW4KyeUNqiuwbXAwATA/w271-h400/The%20Secret%20of%20Chantilly%20Kindle.jpg" width="271" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p>Disponible à temps pour l'anniversaire de Talleyrand le 2 février 2023, cette nouvelle édition du Secret de Chantilly sera au rendez-vous pour la rentrée littéraire.</p><p>Chacune de ses pages revisitée avec amour et une nouvelle couverture aux couleurs de l'ancien régime : cette nouvelle édition sera en vente exclusivement sur Amazon. </p><p>Description du livre :</p><p></p><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #0f1111; font-family: georgia;"><i>Paris, 1792. Abandonné et livré à lui-même dans les rues de la capitale, Marie-Antoine Carême n’a que huit ans. Il s’aventure dans le monde de la restauration et au cours des années se distingue en pâtisserie.</i></span></div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><i><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #0f1111;"><br /></span></div><span style="background-color: white; color: #0f1111;"><div style="text-align: left;">Le mystérieux Boucheseiche, maître d’hôtel du ministre Charles Maurice de Talleyrand-Périgord, promet à Carême de lui révéler le Secret de Chantilly.</div></span><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #0f1111;"><br /></span></div><span style="background-color: white; color: #0f1111;"><div style="text-align: left;">Devenu chef de cuisine au château de Valençay, Carême tombe sous le charme de l'énigmatique Talleyrand. Il se plonge dans un conte de fées – un tourbillon de princes, de princesses, de sortilèges, et de châteaux.</div></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #0f1111;"><div style="text-align: left;">Pâtisserie et scandale sont au rendez-vous.</div></span><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #0f1111;"><br /></span></div><span style="background-color: white; color: #0f1111;"><div style="text-align: left;">Mais lorsqu' advient la chute de Napoléon, tout bascule. Carême devrait-il encore se fier à Talleyrand, cet être insaisissable, ce diable boiteux pour qui personne ne paraît compter ?</div></span><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #0f1111;"><br /></span></div><span style="background-color: white; color: #0f1111;"><div style="text-align: left;">Orphelin de la Terreur, génie assailli par le doute, Carême attendra des années avant de découvrir enfin, le Secret de Chantilly.</div></span><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #0f1111;"><br /></span></div><span style="background-color: white; color: #0f1111;"><div style="text-align: left;">Ce roman est le récit d’un enfant qui releva le défi de sa naissance pour devenir une légende de la gastronomie française. Il raconte surtout l’amitié inimaginable entre deux êtres appartenant à deux mondes entièrement différents.</div></span><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #0f1111;"><br /></span></div><span style="background-color: white; color: #0f1111;"><div style="text-align: left;">De Paris à Valençay, du congrès de Vienne à Londres, Carême nous fait voyager à travers ses aventures parfois piquantes, souvent teintées d’humour, mais qui incarnent la France – son histoire, son patrimoine et son grand art culinaire.</div></span></i></span><p></p><p style="text-align: left;"><i> </i></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd4cf2SjuOc-YC4OCRQBNT71zxJRsITV5WdqPhvMdY-9nAm6xM1GgyFxSSPkTSM2YsR0o4BNVkKLKKTxkgXcIUFyegRY2F6K2djiuqXkmp4OPsRkl629ey4sKBleSSAI0v3zW8eMLvJ9tlOdmL6GWkI6sVXygdiBx0nh_fWLemVqedW_H1YYhJ89zOAA/s3940/The%20Secret%20of%20Chantilly%20with%20Title%20Spine%20and%20Blurb.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2770" data-original-width="3940" height="281" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd4cf2SjuOc-YC4OCRQBNT71zxJRsITV5WdqPhvMdY-9nAm6xM1GgyFxSSPkTSM2YsR0o4BNVkKLKKTxkgXcIUFyegRY2F6K2djiuqXkmp4OPsRkl629ey4sKBleSSAI0v3zW8eMLvJ9tlOdmL6GWkI6sVXygdiBx0nh_fWLemVqedW_H1YYhJ89zOAA/w400-h281/The%20Secret%20of%20Chantilly%20with%20Title%20Spine%20and%20Blurb.jpg" width="400" /></a></i></div><p></p><p style="text-align: center;"><i>Le Secret de Chantilly</i> est également disponible en anglais (paru 28 novembre 2021).</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4332839841587643356.post-4014998902706777662022-10-28T06:46:00.005+10:002022-10-28T06:50:54.368+10:00The Signare of Gorée - my new historical mystery<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiWB1pWk3d6FECrWSdQ_qIAs_KdRq0KU6M-roAdnijN71ZKh63EATX46UrJ1CJ9ATUXlDrMxpuO4gYTrqzd_z2zEh6Pui7g0oSjNRY66DVFdre5JdJERYCk3SYIRqnsvpA3TqLtSm-5kjh6EXxAKLT-O9Ig-HN4kfx7Bk6qXD6EzmECilZQVSCoNvPKQ/s1800/The%20Signare%20of%20Gor%C3%A9e.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1800" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiWB1pWk3d6FECrWSdQ_qIAs_KdRq0KU6M-roAdnijN71ZKh63EATX46UrJ1CJ9ATUXlDrMxpuO4gYTrqzd_z2zEh6Pui7g0oSjNRY66DVFdre5JdJERYCk3SYIRqnsvpA3TqLtSm-5kjh6EXxAKLT-O9Ig-HN4kfx7Bk6qXD6EzmECilZQVSCoNvPKQ/w400-h266/The%20Signare%20of%20Gor%C3%A9e.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><p>Suddenly it is almost 2023 and you awake with a new historical mystery in the works.</p><p>Why not, you think. Why did I not think of it before? I'll return to the place of my birth, in a different time. </p><p>Senegal, you fill my thoughts. I am loving the research and the return to the familiar.</p><p>I have called this novel <b>The Signare of Gorée</b>. </p><p>The setting is the 1840s on the French colonial island of Gorée and detective Maurice Leroux is a touch younger than he was in my gothic novel, <i>Calista</i>.</p><p>Summoned by the French navy to investigate a series of horrific murders, Maurice is soon haunted by the strange deaths on the island. </p><p>One...by one...</p><p>The undeserving must die.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/MLhWsgNRTXA" width="320" youtube-src-id="MLhWsgNRTXA"></iframe></div><br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4332839841587643356.post-33083146005566789092022-04-01T23:31:00.005+10:002022-04-01T23:36:42.720+10:00Calista : A reading by Laura Rahme<p><br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjkm_LkxP_w0OojN9tvifh43xUUrwnRAT3YoRHMfTCZRtQaTJTS48l7hNgpeXsVrUH7FS94ZoHnvBFYHpTkXBkd18eOMTdYdpzFhOuco9BZLLwYrwAgeoiN-rL6BV5HOW-BWUNEPYOeutOcrI5SdkmNkEGp0ya-F32WnuTNH9L8cysP1w8wC3Glmu2EGw" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="427" data-original-width="765" height="224" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjkm_LkxP_w0OojN9tvifh43xUUrwnRAT3YoRHMfTCZRtQaTJTS48l7hNgpeXsVrUH7FS94ZoHnvBFYHpTkXBkd18eOMTdYdpzFhOuco9BZLLwYrwAgeoiN-rL6BV5HOW-BWUNEPYOeutOcrI5SdkmNkEGp0ya-F32WnuTNH9L8cysP1w8wC3Glmu2EGw=w400-h224" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p>I will never be the sort of author that is fond of face to face interviews, writer panels or even book signings. </p><p>The discomfort, exhaustion and overwhelm that I experienced at my own wedding in 2015, despite every intention to have fun, and in spite of the bliss I felt, signal to me that unfortunately, I have a low treshold for public attention, and that as you would expect from someone who is neurologically hypersensitive, writing is my preferred medium.</p><p>But even if I might be reluctant to conduct public readings of my novels, I can thankfully capture my own voice in the privacy of my home.</p><p>I recorded this reading last year and thought it might make a decent clip to promote my novel, Calista.</p><p>This is not my every day tone but it suits the historical setting at least. I hope you enjoy. </p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="352" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/3f80vtg3ibw" width="529" youtube-src-id="3f80vtg3ibw"></iframe></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4332839841587643356.post-75151874827519202362022-02-05T08:58:00.022+10:002022-02-07T09:40:18.679+10:00Using Canva to create my book trailers<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/RDoKnHbbFBY" width="320" youtube-src-id="RDoKnHbbFBY"></iframe></div><br />I had worked with the brilliant tool Canva since 2017, albeit in a professional setting where I was more a passive recipient of mockups lovingly realised by UX designers at my workplace.<p></p><p>After releasing <i>The Secret of Chantilly</i> in late November, then participating in the book’s promotion activities in December and surviving all the Christmas cooking, I decided I needed a purely visual and auditory project. I took on playing with Canva and was pleasantly surprised. What began as social media posters (that I deleted) and fun food menus themed around Christmas and High Tea, soon led to a joyful passion for book trailers. </p><p>I completed two book trailers in late January after upgrading to Canva Pro. One for <i>Calista</i> and one for <i>The Ming Storytellers</i>. I also had loads of fun with a Secret of Chantilly promo to coincide with Talleyrand’s birthday. I’ll eventually work on a trailer for my other books. </p><p>My favorite part of the process was choosing imagery that evoked themes and symbols in my stories — a very rewarding semiotic exercise — then applying various royalty free sound pieces to set the mood. I also had to avoid modern imagery as my novels are set in the past, and choose video content over photos where possible to avoid that “presentation slide” feel which is not what I wanted. For the sound in the <i>Calista </i>trailer, I added thunderstorm, ocean and cricket effects and had fun with jarring and downright spooky horror pieces. The addition of sound made me realise just how crucial to the emotional effect sound mixing is and my respect for that discipline of filmmaking has increased like never before. The result is an unsettling little video that captures the contrast in Calista’s life before and after moving to England and creates intrigue. It won’t win an Oscar but I’m very happy. :)</p><p>For the Chantilly promo video, my aim was not to convey what the book is about but rather to showcase the essence of my characters : nimble, hardworking chef Carême affairing himself in the Château de Valençay kitchen, and his tasteful and regal master, Talleyrand. All the Valençay photos are my own, taken during a trip to Indre in July 2020 while I was editing the French version of the novel. I also used music that would have been familiar to Talleyrand in his time, so the first piece for example which accompanies Carême’s cooking, is by Mozart, and it worked wonders when I adjusted the pace of the imagery and used lots of dynamics like confetti, butterfly wings, and hand gestures. The cartoonish imagery is befitting because the novel possesses a fairytale like quality, and these childish finishes also add an element of fun to what is, after all, a birthday celebration video. </p><p><br /></p>
<blockquote class="twitter-tweet"><p dir="ltr" lang="en">Giveaway ! 📚<br />How about a trip to the <a href="https://twitter.com/ChateauValencay?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">@ChateauValencay</a> for <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/Talleyrand?src=hash&ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">#Talleyrand</a>’s birthday? 🥳 I hear French chef Antonin Carême is cooking up a storm. <br /><br />If you enjoy foodie historical fiction with heart, The Secret of Chantilly is currently free on Kindle. 🎁♥️ <a href="https://t.co/tpWhJXVGTb">https://t.co/tpWhJXVGTb</a> <a href="https://t.co/7zHDcNDAax">pic.twitter.com/7zHDcNDAax</a></p>— Laura Rahme (@Laura_Rahme) <a href="https://twitter.com/Laura_Rahme/status/1488594609370456064?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">February 1, 2022</a></blockquote> <script async="" charset="utf-8" src="https://platform.twitter.com/widgets.js"></script>
<p><br /></p><p><i>The Ming Storytellers</i> book trailer is my greatest joy. It has by far the prettiest music, a melody that wonderfully tugs at the heartstrings while spelling mystery and awe. I remember sighing wishfully years ago, telling myself that I needed a book trailer for my epic story, but I never had the time nor the resources for it, and now, ten years after its release, it finally has one! Thank you Canva! </p><p style="text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/pqjK3StguCA" width="320" youtube-src-id="pqjK3StguCA"></iframe></p><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4332839841587643356.post-10517880628362101452022-01-29T23:46:00.008+10:002022-01-30T00:34:31.087+10:00Review: Jane and the Year Without a Summer by Stephanie Barron<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhZrPU5X79ka04s_4gPlF4X8XE4jTAlsRnelGk_TfPIb2wiB-PbOsPosUgQoKzVcfjzbBOvvro0-Y5fHzd_KsGWXKL9Vf8G351OR-a9-jsho2O3gCGM7JbSsjuZeSwc5nYjd7DWvrNbQLWsFxYzfLqHan8GqRH7p__RFicmbFYIF5_ieDxTRe3vqTiQ1g" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2560" data-original-width="1707" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhZrPU5X79ka04s_4gPlF4X8XE4jTAlsRnelGk_TfPIb2wiB-PbOsPosUgQoKzVcfjzbBOvvro0-Y5fHzd_KsGWXKL9Vf8G351OR-a9-jsho2O3gCGM7JbSsjuZeSwc5nYjd7DWvrNbQLWsFxYzfLqHan8GqRH7p__RFicmbFYIF5_ieDxTRe3vqTiQ1g=w266-h400" width="266" /></a></div><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">Stephanie Barron is a prolific author with a CIA career background who has penned a series of mysteries with Jane Austen as lead sleuth and narrator. Currently in love with all things Georgian, I found this titillating, and while I’m admittedly late to the Jane Austen tea party - there are 14 books now - I am no less enthusiastic than early adopters, ever since having read my first cosy mystery featuring the renowned 19th century author as main character.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">In the splendidly titled, <i>Jane and the Year Without a Summer</i>, Jane Austen travels to Cheltenham in May 1816 with her sister Cassandra upon advice of her doctor. It is hoped the iron-rich spa waters will invigorate her.</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjqwp5raahvq9ieMa6uPYALXexsR8QXZ4M4euGdeI8bQZmK_gADkVohAZ1KJuVzzKjQia1OQkkUVu3QTYezxUWk77ym5bNRYKH4uHUP7dxIu7KPzIWMjFxC-0kXePskr8GFRxcp6-2317zfxCZxLYoXlrGZpz3J7_2Lo-np1sqLxFSJWpDJ-tRPRTE5pw" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="561" data-original-width="750" height="299" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjqwp5raahvq9ieMa6uPYALXexsR8QXZ4M4euGdeI8bQZmK_gADkVohAZ1KJuVzzKjQia1OQkkUVu3QTYezxUWk77ym5bNRYKH4uHUP7dxIu7KPzIWMjFxC-0kXePskr8GFRxcp6-2317zfxCZxLYoXlrGZpz3J7_2Lo-np1sqLxFSJWpDJ-tRPRTE5pw=w400-h299" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">The Royal Well Spa, Cheltenham by Robert Cruickshank, published in The English Spy 1826</div><p></p><p></p><div style="text-align: center;">(Image courtesy of antiqueprints.com)</div><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">As they settle into their lodgings at Mrs Potter’s, we meet an eccentric cast of characters. Miss Rose Williams is a wheelchair-bound sylphlike young heiress. Her childhood friend and companion, Sarah Fox exerts a Wollstonecraft-ian feminist influence on her. Elegant Hannah Smith is a free-spirited actress with a secret shame who manages to outrage a moralistic Miss Garthwaite more than once, lending some spice to the dialogue. The reverend in Miss Garthwaite’s brother, James is inclined to sermonising at length uttering his, "Repent!" to all who would hear. In his eyes, the current sunless year can only spell doom:</span></p><p></p><blockquote><i>“Are you aware—or as yet ignorant of the intelligence—that the warmth of the sun has been wrapped in a veil; that no man may say when it shall be torn asunder; and that perpetual winter shall wither crops in the fields, bringing desolation upon the multitude?”</i></blockquote><p></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">As it turns out, much more than the historical climatic gloom is forthcoming.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">But it wouldn’t be a Jane Austen story without a dash of romantic excitement for the author. So who should happen to also be visiting Cheltenham but her love interest, Raphael West? The younger women on the other hand, married or not, seem to be taken by the limping Captain Harry Pellew.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">Faithful to the format of an Agatha Christie novel, simmering tensions are revealed between several characters, laying down suspicions and motivations for what is to come. The unexpected arrival of Miss Williams’ husband, alongside a beautiful and mysterious woman, sends the fragile Rose Williams into a frenzy of hysterics. </span><span style="font-family: georgia;">Spendthrift Viscount Portreath is adamant that his wife should return home at once. Captain Pellew is not alone in his negative reaction to this. Sarah Fox wishes her friend, Rose to flee from her husband. A certain Dr Lionel Hargate who turns out as patronising as they get (especially with his dealings with our Jane), intervenes promptly against Miss Williams travelling, even while Sarah Fox insists her life is in danger.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">It’s not long before we begin to suspect Lady Portreath‘s life might indeed be under threat. But there are more happenings brooding under the surface and it is just as well Jane Austen proves so insightful. </span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh8Cpy_3V-BYroMW1deLjNaCiaOp0g99kXQ4IcJB4Z5PBUK2Ex2YzlfBvmXFz10mhmCSm48cP2nyJxdV07Ia6gzwRno9kdsiU4Qi6M_evSbLCZq4EWBL_MHQoxQIFCIOqkUJLHHZgnEVNTWpZO-fpiMJvLxpf1bG22l86I39HsKq8tSf3l_U71TxSDBNg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="788" data-original-width="940" height="336" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh8Cpy_3V-BYroMW1deLjNaCiaOp0g99kXQ4IcJB4Z5PBUK2Ex2YzlfBvmXFz10mhmCSm48cP2nyJxdV07Ia6gzwRno9kdsiU4Qi6M_evSbLCZq4EWBL_MHQoxQIFCIOqkUJLHHZgnEVNTWpZO-fpiMJvLxpf1bG22l86I39HsKq8tSf3l_U71TxSDBNg=w400-h336" width="400" /></a></div>How about some poisoned macaroons with your tea?</div><p></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">A relaxing stay that ought to have consisted of sensible attendances to the theatre and visits to the Cheltenham library, unfolds with unexpected twists. A tea party with a case of poisoned macaroons, a disturbing pattern of dead rats, a tragic costume ball, anorexic behaviour in a distressed young woman, violent jealousy, and more fervent preaching about the apocalypse - there is much to entertain and transport as the suspense culminates into not one, but two vicious cold-blooded murders. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">Luckily by this time, Miss Austen has brilliantly pieced together enough about her companions’ behaviour to solve the case in style.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">This was an enjoyable historical cosy mystery even without the detective’s author credentials. I happily lost myself in the intrigue, while also exploring a bygone Cheltenham, and gasping at the rudeness of Miss Garthwaite’s classist remarks. A brilliant, entertaining story with vivid characters.</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi2UA1ySHX3wVMchpuey8EkCTcLXSvWCGqnh48s5eJsEzEJjwc0kLGaghmbjWm1sBQRcXN0Ud59mQjhLEME-SxUQmWCND7kv8A4dv0nQATW7d9YoUlaAS4TpGAJctnYsl2dmPE46qgIJoRawrBT2LWa44ku1-kXkxLU9QPAPc3URSr5g6SrdwTBQA9Sxw" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="788" data-original-width="940" height="336" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi2UA1ySHX3wVMchpuey8EkCTcLXSvWCGqnh48s5eJsEzEJjwc0kLGaghmbjWm1sBQRcXN0Ud59mQjhLEME-SxUQmWCND7kv8A4dv0nQATW7d9YoUlaAS4TpGAJctnYsl2dmPE46qgIJoRawrBT2LWa44ku1-kXkxLU9QPAPc3URSr5g6SrdwTBQA9Sxw=w400-h336" width="400" /></a></div><p></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">I haven’t opened a Jane Austen book in a long time so I admit that the language, faithful to her own, took a bit to get used to but twenty pages in, and I was delighted with its <i>stile</i> (style) and its spelling variations - I had somehow forgotten that one could <i>chuse</i> (choose) to spell panic as <i>panick</i>, and gothic as <i>gothick</i>. But setting aside my own ignorance, this deliberate adherence to Jane Austen’s form of expression is what made the text so transporting.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">There are some delightful descriptions, as when we first meet Lady Portreath aka Miss Rose Williams :</span></p><p></p><blockquote><i>"Flawless skin, tho’ too wan and pallid; shadowed eyes of cornflower blue; guinea-gold curls trailing from a deliciously upturned poke bonnet, a frail figure handsomely gowned—and yet all confined to the basket-chair of an invalid’s conveyance. There was a thinness, a languor, that spoke of suffering gallantly borne. Such a picture, eloquent of Divine gifts and burdens equally bestowed, must inspire the most sympathetic concern!"</i></blockquote><p></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">With such evocative prose, I am in no doubt that a TV series producer will one day want to adapt Stephanie Barron’s Jane Austen mysteries. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">I leave you with one last charming quote from Raphael West :</span></p><p></p><blockquote><i>“Where are you ladies bound? May I cajole you to visit the Cheltenham Library? I mean to peruse the London papers; I have ruralised in ignorance long enough.”</i></blockquote><p></p><p><br /></p><p>Many thanks to Soho Crime from Soho Press for providing me with an ARC of this novel. </p><p><b><i>Jane and the Year Without a Summer </i>is out on 8 February 2022.</b></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4332839841587643356.post-13036915292221576652021-12-13T22:37:00.007+10:002021-12-14T06:13:36.412+10:00Review: The Stuart Vampire by Andrea Zuvich<p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp3cU6LkhInJEoJiJq79e9P_fX5P6mcut1diKspLTPhHzBwdQwKnHc8Qliqh7t8_mCOa8-qR_c16gWPNe4wXrqH_wr4ja9NewWyR8G9pQ3oXCNvB3WMg8AxFgrt0h3qsnvFhWKHTy3_ytZ/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="313" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp3cU6LkhInJEoJiJq79e9P_fX5P6mcut1diKspLTPhHzBwdQwKnHc8Qliqh7t8_mCOa8-qR_c16gWPNe4wXrqH_wr4ja9NewWyR8G9pQ3oXCNvB3WMg8AxFgrt0h3qsnvFhWKHTy3_ytZ/w250-h400/stuart+vampire.jpg" width="250" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-size: 14px; text-align: left;">As a fan of historical fiction, </span><i style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-size: 14px; text-align: left;">The Monk</i><span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-size: 14px; text-align: left;"> and Anne Rice's </span><i style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-size: 14px; text-align: left;">The Vampire Chronicles</i><span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-size: 14px; text-align: left;">, I will not cease raving about this book - it hit all the right notes! It is astounding that the author wrote this novel in her mid-twenties; this in itself was an INCREDIBLE achievement but <i>The Stuart Vampire</i> is a real treat for lovers of horror and the gothic.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-size: 14px; text-align: left;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-size: 14px; text-align: left;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-size: 14px; text-align: left;">Told beautifully, in a language most suited to the 17th century, and by a historian who is intimate with the Stuart period, this book could be described as </span><i style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-size: 14px; text-align: left;">The Monk</i><span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-size: 14px; text-align: left;"> meets Cinderella with a touch of Charlotte Dacre's <i>Zofloya.</i></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: left;"><i><br /></i></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><i><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtR_L0jhd0_VaS9qs7cPBxak6A4_qVJxe8Ho8k1KRrp2AUZKXqK_dWBUUSxH9mUxeqlT97mI_jufurWD5IGRf2ZK-I4wmU_S4Y3ZnreLrKFtNvTqjxp_7qGRAqije7d9HvAp51Dl9fSpH7/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="617" data-original-width="500" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtR_L0jhd0_VaS9qs7cPBxak6A4_qVJxe8Ho8k1KRrp2AUZKXqK_dWBUUSxH9mUxeqlT97mI_jufurWD5IGRf2ZK-I4wmU_S4Y3ZnreLrKFtNvTqjxp_7qGRAqije7d9HvAp51Dl9fSpH7/w259-h320/duke.jfif" width="259" /></a></div></i><br style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: left;" /><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-size: 14px; text-align: left;">The prince charming in this tale happens to be Henry Stuart the Duke of Gloucester, who bedridden with smallpox does not die as history tells us, but instead is transformed into a vampire by a ruthless, self-interested Venetian vampiress in league with the devil. Griselda is her name and she is as bone-chillingly wicked as they come, offering us some of the best dialogue in the novel. Her cruelty and scheming in her quest for adoration and love reminded me of <i>Zofloya</i>'s female protagonist.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-size: 14px; text-align: left;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-size: 14px; text-align: left;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-size: 14px; text-align: left;">One of the best passages in the book is when Zuvich introduces us to the inbred village where a Cinderella-esque Susanna grows up ill-treated and brutalised. I loved the sinister atmosphere that Zuvich's almost stoic voice manages to stir in those moments. The author's keen insights into the social condition, backwardness and hypocrisy of the villagers and how these factors will eventually lead to witchhunts artfully merges the gothic with the historical realities of the period.</span></span><br style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: left;" /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiSd5gT88yePD6oqVS4jh9VN23me2Ml0dKiCx93wFd7s96PAcuNk9NCDrFAToJmdLa3xDu-BFHgCh5E5MFVzC-nlKB5w7o4SGsQrTOwrJ_LAPbWXR9PyEXzoW5W60xG4UbBPh7i-2M58kl/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="679" data-original-width="432" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiSd5gT88yePD6oqVS4jh9VN23me2Ml0dKiCx93wFd7s96PAcuNk9NCDrFAToJmdLa3xDu-BFHgCh5E5MFVzC-nlKB5w7o4SGsQrTOwrJ_LAPbWXR9PyEXzoW5W60xG4UbBPh7i-2M58kl/w204-h320/torture.jpg" width="204" /></a></div><br style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: left;" /><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-size: 14px; text-align: left;">Throughout the novel, Zuvich takes her heroine through much suffering and one really needs to be a fan of the horror genre to withstand it, but the climatic ending brings much relief and satisfaction.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-size: 14px; text-align: left;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-size: 14px; text-align: left;">When all the ghastly macabre scenes have passed, a beauty emerges that is both spiritual and touching. Susanna is a wonderful character.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-size: 14px; text-align: left;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-size: 14px; text-align: left;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-size: 14px; text-align: left;">Evocative writing, a gripping plot unfolding within a vivid historical setting, and an ancient vampiric movement all work splendidly together in a novel that ultimately celebrates the most precious force of all - love.</span></span></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4332839841587643356.post-31225046267235649662021-11-16T05:20:00.014+10:002021-11-18T05:47:53.857+10:00Le génie d'Antonin Carême ou l'histoire de la phrénologie<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSTTEg_X9JCoxOI-YY4TCIV0qVpx96DB4SifDQ_Ynt83tJ-OVtABEZTgtu8pLkOE1XrcBr7ZowBhKKOR1pD8Zteu-jtZAGA5DY5dR10o-azAR30MeVmZ6m8x2c5aIfiAylDZKi09Gs_bBj/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="411" data-original-width="512" height="321" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSTTEg_X9JCoxOI-YY4TCIV0qVpx96DB4SifDQ_Ynt83tJ-OVtABEZTgtu8pLkOE1XrcBr7ZowBhKKOR1pD8Zteu-jtZAGA5DY5dR10o-azAR30MeVmZ6m8x2c5aIfiAylDZKi09Gs_bBj/w400-h321/Old+Cookbooks.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><p></p><p>Le 12 janvier 1833, n'ayant même pas fêté ses 49 ans, l’illustre cuisinier
qui avait jadis servi le prince de Talleyrand, le futur George IV, ainsi que le
tsar Alexandre, rendit l'âme, après une longue maladie. </p><p>Auteur de nombreux
ouvrages gastronomiques, inventeur du vol-au-vent, de la toque, Antonin Carême avait
perfectionné les soufflés, codifié la cuisine française en devenant également
le maitre incontesté de pièces montées, véritables chefs-d’œuvre comestibles
représentant moult édifices. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p>On a souvent évoqué le génie d'Antonin Carême en se basant sur sa contribution monumentale
à la cuisine française, mais il faut souligner que son savoir s'étendait à
d'autres sujets tels que l'architecture. Il était persuadé d'ailleurs que l'architecture
et l'art culinaire étaient inséparables. Avant de s'engager dans les cuisines, de
gravir les échelons jusqu’au monde des grands diners diplomatiques, il vécut
une enfance pauvre, dénudée d'éducation, en proie à la faim et fut la victime d’abandon.
Mais tout cela n'empêcha pas à cet autodidacte de s'instruire et de se distinguer en France et au-delà.<o:p></o:p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibp96J4RFXNL-Xo_4l6IKTGSQjcczo4MzjBJlBNBmGjYQGKVp7KcCP7Y3WMnriOYYZAi22s-Lb12ho8d6qXs77QNRPIeXuIVOdDCezFK-8tl_HbMp9UeCUNrNABvGNByktdxILWUARsPBz/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="609" data-original-width="390" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibp96J4RFXNL-Xo_4l6IKTGSQjcczo4MzjBJlBNBmGjYQGKVp7KcCP7Y3WMnriOYYZAi22s-Lb12ho8d6qXs77QNRPIeXuIVOdDCezFK-8tl_HbMp9UeCUNrNABvGNByktdxILWUARsPBz/w257-h400/Antonin+Careme.png" width="257" /></a></div><p></p>
<p>Afin de mieux relativiser et d'apprécier le génie de Carême, il faudrait se
pencher sur une autre histoire : celle de la phrénologie. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p>Cette pseudoscience, controversée à son époque et largement
délaissée aujourd'hui (mis à part les quelques notions qu’elle partage avec la
neuroscience), tentait de corroborer le talent, la carrière et le caractère d'un
individu avec les formations de son crâne. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p>Aujourd'hui plus sérieusement en psychologie nous avons le<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"> Journal de la personnalité et des différences
individuelles</i> ainsi que le<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"> Journal de
la personnalité et de la psychologie sociale</i> qui abordent des sujets comme
l'introversion, l'extraversion et toute une gamme de dimensions des personnalités
et des identités. Dans d’autres domaines de la psychologie, il existe des
études sur la créativité et les diverses formes d'intelligence comme celles
mises en avant par le psychologue, Daniel Goleman. Mais voilà, au 19e siècle,
il y avait <b>Le crâne</b>. Et en France notamment, on pouvait lire le <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Journal de la Société Phrénologique</i>.
Cette publication rassemblait des études et des trouvailles autour du crâne
humain. Épatant.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p>Décidemment nous sommes bien loin des cuisines ! Mais un peu de patience...<o:p></o:p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2tOWxo-o5gxCymkgR5auKY9B9WfStQtFXL5zqjRQjMLGrEU13xLHjFVt5uUlPbFomUdao6OQ8DG5AINHb0BogguccBdNuF4DGpotcpJVI_t1yC9VAo-4P-LucZrPI-Fsdyx5zS3SKhJro/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="341" data-original-width="440" height="310" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2tOWxo-o5gxCymkgR5auKY9B9WfStQtFXL5zqjRQjMLGrEU13xLHjFVt5uUlPbFomUdao6OQ8DG5AINHb0BogguccBdNuF4DGpotcpJVI_t1yC9VAo-4P-LucZrPI-Fsdyx5zS3SKhJro/w400-h310/Franz_Joseph_Gall_examining_the_head_of_a_pretty_young_girl.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><i><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Franz Gall recevant une jeune fille</i></div></i><p></p>
<p>Les principes de la phrénologie furent d’abord établis par le médecin allemand
Franz Joseph Gall (1758 - 1828) et par son adhérent, Johann Kaspar Spurzheim
(1776 - 1832). En 1805, l’empereur François Ier d’Autriche ordonna à Gall de
cesser son enseignement, dû au « péril qu’il représentait pour la religion et
les bonnes mœurs ». Interdit d’enseigner à Vienne, Gall fut contraint de tenir
ses conférences ailleurs en Europe, et finit par s’installer à Paris. C’est donc surtout
à Paris que se développa la phrénologie.<o:p></o:p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikdSPk4LAJtBm_9G7qvF8EkxTyQt-mojEsixcYqK4E-eri_ySG0lhSQ_Vf5b3qMgL44-ahvHPIJ9iSL1Rlnevc-4pASnjTo8b96j2JP3xG9t5YFBvGPymwGBYpnpJpjh9xgVqsfpA3RO-d/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="355" data-original-width="577" height="394" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikdSPk4LAJtBm_9G7qvF8EkxTyQt-mojEsixcYqK4E-eri_ySG0lhSQ_Vf5b3qMgL44-ahvHPIJ9iSL1Rlnevc-4pASnjTo8b96j2JP3xG9t5YFBvGPymwGBYpnpJpjh9xgVqsfpA3RO-d/w640-h394/IMG_4427.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><p></p>
<p>Nous ferons comme si nous étions en cours avec Gall ou même Spurzheim pour
découvrir les principes de la phrénologie. Elles sont au nombre de cinq: 1) le
cerveau est l'organe de l'esprit; 2) les aptitudes d'un humain peuvent être
analysées en tant qu'un nombre définitif de facultés indépendantes (plus ou
moins vrai, selon la neuroscience); 3) ces facultés sont innées et chacune
d'elles réside sur une région de la surface du cerveau (plus ou moins vrai
selon la neuroscience); 4) la taille de ladite région mesure le degré auquel cette
faculté constitue un élément important dans le caractère de l'individuel; 5) la
correspondance entre le crâne et les contours du cerveau est suffisamment
proche pour permettre à un observateur d’examiner la surface extérieure de la
tête et ainsi d’identifier les tailles relatives de certaines régions du
cerveau.</p>
<p>Spurzheim identifia plusieurs régions du crâne qu'il jugea correspondre à certains
traits, tels que l'amabilité, la prudence, l'amour propre, la combativité,
l'idéalisme, la concentration, le constructivisme, la destructivité, le caractère
secret, la bienveillance, l'espoir, la perception des couleurs, la mémoire, et
la perception de la musique. <o:p></o:p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdHQM-9H_PHqQ7UPMgfMnqtynJSIjI9juksIPMvOME2w76FnB5oM47rXJJYBBqoNKdw2sXQh0qq93ev7MtqVeUJBdzAZYCWKlEHb0cNliTABd3yJFMDkKroeqKUfJBdPKrb02gi3uvN8QR/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="752" data-original-width="640" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdHQM-9H_PHqQ7UPMgfMnqtynJSIjI9juksIPMvOME2w76FnB5oM47rXJJYBBqoNKdw2sXQh0qq93ev7MtqVeUJBdzAZYCWKlEHb0cNliTABd3yJFMDkKroeqKUfJBdPKrb02gi3uvN8QR/w340-h400/skull+parts.jpeg" width="340" /></a></div><br /><p></p>
<p>Un an avant la mort d'Antonin Carême, Spurzheim rendit l'âme non sans avoir
vivement impressionné un certain Pierre Marie Alexandre Dumoutier qui deviendra
l'un des champions de la phrénologie en France. Cet ancien étudiant en médecine
n'avait jamais fini ses études, mais en 1820, après avoir assisté aux cours de
Spurzheim, il avait commencé sa carrière de phrénologiste et de collectionneur.
En 1831, il fonda la Société phrénologique, établissant le journal du même nom.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p>Bon très bien, mais je ne voix plus le lien avec les pièces montées ni avec Carême... <o:p></o:p></p>
<p>On y arrive ! </p><p>Attention, cela devient assez macabre. Comme la plupart des adeptes de cette 'science', Dumoutier
s'intéressait à deux catégories de crâne humain pour tester ces théories: 1)
les personnages célèbres, dont les facultés marquantes et bien connues du
public devaient en principe confirmer la nature de certaines formations
crâniennes et 2) les aliénés du genre criminel et les ‘idiots’ – car l'une des
préoccupations de la phrénologie était son application dans la criminologie.
Cette dernière catégorie accusait une certaine xénophobie comme l'attestent les
divers crânes d'aliénés en provenance d'Océanie figurant dans la collection de
Dumoutier. </p><p>En ce qui concerne la catégorie des aliénés, on imagine qu'une
permission explicite n'était pas nécessaire pour s'approprier un crâne ou une
moulure. Cependant, afin que le crâne d'une personnalité célèbre se retrouvât
dans la collection de Dumoutier, il fallait préalablement se faire accorder un don. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p>Il se trouve qu'Antonin Carême donna son accord à la société un peu avant sa
mort. <o:p></o:p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipIl5dZ0KNdvalNaBblMoZWIMapxD0t007yRSb-1Lg4HuNFLDRx_FgmZcAWYpDG3ikqkmI-hI7HastzijOcBO12P0iqCTnB4d2rHKivZ1rGuBsBh7TKrPDTOJ8ciFfHIP4PHJrDubs_evA/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="222" data-original-width="170" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipIl5dZ0KNdvalNaBblMoZWIMapxD0t007yRSb-1Lg4HuNFLDRx_FgmZcAWYpDG3ikqkmI-hI7HastzijOcBO12P0iqCTnB4d2rHKivZ1rGuBsBh7TKrPDTOJ8ciFfHIP4PHJrDubs_evA/w246-h320/skull.jpg" width="246" /></a></div><i><div style="text-align: center;"><i style="text-align: left;">Crâne</i><i> d'Antonin Carême, Paris</i></div></i><p></p>
<p>L'inclusion d'Antonin Carême dans la collection de personnalités célèbres de
Dumoutier est remarquable. Notre cuisinier se retrouvait en bonne compagnie :
Benjamin Constant, Casimir Périer, Raspail et Laplace ne sont que quelques
exemples d'échantillons relevés.<o:p></o:p></p><p>Qu'a t'on donc trouvé en examinant le crâne d'Antonin Carême ?</p>
<p>Dans le <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Journal de la Société Phrénologique</i>
parut en octobre 1833, neuf mois après la mort de Carême, on retrouve
cette analyse du docteur Casimir Broussais qui attribue le génie de Carême non
pas à la cuisine, mais bien à l'architecture: <o:p></o:p></p>
<p><i><span style="color: #444444; font-size: medium;">"Passons maintenant à des hommes distingués par des talents
particuliers. Voici Carême, d'abord, que je n'appellerai pas le cuisinier, mais
l'architecte. La moindre gloire de Carême est certes d'avoir ordonné tous les
grands diners diplomatiques en Europe depuis 1810; l'art culinaire n'était pour
lui qu'une branche de l'architecture, qu'il exploitait avec un talent dont une
réputation européenne fut la récompense, mais dont la sphère était cependant
trop étroite pour son esprit poétique." </span></i><o:p></o:p></p>
<p>Plus loin: <o:p></o:p></p>
<p><span style="color: #444444; font-size: medium;"><i>"C'est le 14 janvier de cette année [12 ?] que Carême a succombé! On a
trouvé, dans ses papiers, plusieurs plans d'architecture dessinés par lui-même
et finis, des monumens [sic] de décors de table d'une beauté admirable, des
manuscrits, etc."</i></span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p>C’est de cette <span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">manière que </span>Broussais
nous explique l'adhérence de Carême à sa cuisine:<o:p></o:p></p>
<p><span style="color: #444444; font-size: medium;"><i>"Oui, c'est l'amour de la gloire qui animait, qui inspirait Carême dans
ses compositions littéraires, comme dans ses projets d'architecture, comme dans
ses conceptions culinaires! Mais comment l'amour de la gloire l'avait-il laissé
végéter à la cuisine, lui que ses moyens naturels auraient pu conduire à une
position sociale relevée? Comment? Le voici. Si Carême est resté
cuisinier, c'est qu'il y avait pour lui un génie de l'art du cuisinier, comme
il y a un génie de l'art du peintre ou du sculpteur; c'est que sa mission à lui,
était d'élever au rang de science un art qui jusque-là n'avait jamais osé
prétendre à cet honneur."</i></span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span style="color: #444444; font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black; font-size: medium;">« </span></span>Végéter à la cuisine »... cela en dit long sur la compréhension de ce monsieur !</p><p>Et pour terminer, il nous révèle, oh merveille, que le caractère de
Carême est bien corroboré avec son crâne, surtout n'en doutez pas : <o:p></o:p></p>
<p><i><span style="color: #444444; font-size: medium;">"Vous voyez quels talens [sic] distingués possédaient cet homme, sa
tête en donne l'explication : vous remarquez un développement général assez
grand; la partie antérieure forte, et les organes de l'idéalité, de la
construction, sont largement développés; ils sont soutenus par ceux des sentiments
affectueux et par celui de l'amour de l'approbation, tressaillant sur cette
tête. Il serait trop long d'expliquer la correspondance de toutes ses facultés
prédominantes avec les développements de son crâne ; je dirai seulement
que si l'organe de l'amour des enfants est très fort chez Carême, on ne
s'étonnera pas d'apprendre qu'il les aimait beaucoup en effet, et qu'il en a
doté une vingtaine."</span></i><o:p></o:p></p>
<p>J'ignore si Carême versait des dons aux enfants, mais l'on pourrait
attribuer sa bienveillance envers eux comme étant le résultat d'une forte
empathie provenant de sa longue enfance de misère. Ayant vécu l'abandon,
peut-être voulait-il à son tour venir en aide à d'autres enfants ? Mais non,
selon la Société phrénologique, ce comportement bénévole a pour origine, la
forme du crâne d'Antonin Carême et donc de son cerveau. Tout s’explique !<o:p></o:p></p>
<p>Mais revenons-en au génie de Carême. Bien que ces analyses phrénologiques
furent terriblement non-scientifiques, le seul fait de s’approprier le crâne
d’un cuisinier, le fait de publier ensuite l’analyse de ce crâne confirme
encore le fort intérêt porté pour le personnage de Carême. En effet, ce
serait l’équivalent aujourd’hui d’étudier les cerveaux d’Alain Ducasse ou de Pierre
Hermé, ce qui serait peu probable. </p><p>On en déduit que Carême laissa une extraordinaire
impression à ses contemporains – s’attirant non seulement les masses
populaires qui achetaient ses livres culinaires, mais aussi les pseudoscientifiques. </p>
<p>Qu’advint-il de la collection phrénologique de Dumoutier? Elle se trouve
aujourd’hui au Musée d’histoire naturelle dans le Jardin des Plantes à Paris. S’il
vous vient l’idée de rendre hommage au magnifique crâne d’Antonin Carême, vous
pourriez peut-être vous procurer des pâtisseries afin de les déguster dans le
jardin, juste avant votre visite.</p><p><o:p></o:p></p>
<p><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p><p><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">--------</span></p><p><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></p>
<p><i>Envie de vous plonger dans la tête d’Antonin Carême et de vivre son incroyable parcours au
temps de Talleyrand? <o:p></o:p></i></p>
<p><i>Je vous invite à découvrir mon roman, Le Secret de Chantilly. (Version ebook et papier disponibles sur Amazon, Fnac et dans toutes les bonnes libraries en ligne.)</i></p><p><o:p></o:p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIcee36bys9RUL5gAVEQ_i8FvOhDKAhmqmGQFqhl3sYpqPmpd6QT5U7p-oMhpBw3gWqjjfK5tKd7eXKjoFkeBhw1DJNpTSUslGbilCwJRykvzbkgx9ce5NUkyNtWgseV98u8SGRUn6ro7a/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="965" data-original-width="776" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIcee36bys9RUL5gAVEQ_i8FvOhDKAhmqmGQFqhl3sYpqPmpd6QT5U7p-oMhpBw3gWqjjfK5tKd7eXKjoFkeBhw1DJNpTSUslGbilCwJRykvzbkgx9ce5NUkyNtWgseV98u8SGRUn6ro7a/w257-h320/Book+Mockup+French+cover1.png" width="257" /></a></div><p></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4332839841587643356.post-890182792512664542021-11-07T00:50:00.009+10:002021-11-07T05:18:34.488+10:00Chronique : Althéa ou la colère d'un roi de Karin Hann<p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTVn1U3idGAcntMCGuGM24p1wJ66ntUw8JE0XHUCA5CI1fN5L_ezdWyW-KrAj7lzznaFpuO2C4CqRHs-FEQvTBqB3IzyX5mxLnRuDKKNUBA8FPTZeTu-r1pHZuWLt0zY2K-6t44Q9I5H1j/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1271" data-original-width="800" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTVn1U3idGAcntMCGuGM24p1wJ66ntUw8JE0XHUCA5CI1fN5L_ezdWyW-KrAj7lzznaFpuO2C4CqRHs-FEQvTBqB3IzyX5mxLnRuDKKNUBA8FPTZeTu-r1pHZuWLt0zY2K-6t44Q9I5H1j/w252-h400/Althea+ou+la+colere.jpg" width="252" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p></p><p><span style="color: black; font-size: 11pt;">Si vous rêvez des fastes du Château
de Vaux-le-Vicomte au temps de Nicolas Fouquet, si un pincement au coeur vous
prend dès que l'on aborde le sujet de son injuste emprisonnement par Louis XIV,
ou si vous recherchez un roman qui met en lumière le XVIIe siècle d'une manière
intrigante et originale, le roman historique de Karin Hann vous
enchantera. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: black; font-size: 11pt;">Je viens de terminer <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Althéa ou la colère d’un roi</i> et je me
dois de souligner la plume exquise de l'auteur qui s'adapte à merveille à l'époque,
nous envoutant dès les premières pages. On est proche de Molière et de La
Fontaine et le dialogue de Karin Hann sied à merveille : nuancé, brillant
d'esprit et de grâce. Cela m'a donné l'envie de savourer ses autres livres,
surtout <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Les Venins de la Cour</i>, et de
m’inspirer de ses élégantes tournures de phrases.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: black; font-size: 11pt;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTwhFdE8LrRjFqNnn43hQJYURKrR8qKTwa_fFaEwEYuf4ki6IM8pYh-or6mb7ZgnwpvQyqUE5Q5MUXlG1h39ROeX1vnh-r0MNnw95heoTRjkK78eSwNKcXBOzXjZ-sc7ydrf7cd8n1jqMz/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="197" data-original-width="256" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTwhFdE8LrRjFqNnn43hQJYURKrR8qKTwa_fFaEwEYuf4ki6IM8pYh-or6mb7ZgnwpvQyqUE5Q5MUXlG1h39ROeX1vnh-r0MNnw95heoTRjkK78eSwNKcXBOzXjZ-sc7ydrf7cd8n1jqMz/" width="312" /></a></div><i><div style="text-align: center;"><i style="font-size: 11pt;">Nicolas Fouquet</i></div></i><p></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: black; font-size: 11pt;">Le roman de Karin Hann imagine
un personnage féminin à travers lequel nous assistons à la puissance croissante,
puis la chute de Nicolas Fouquet. Althéa de Braban-Valloris se retrouve orpheline à
sa naissance. Adoptée par la famille Fouquet, elle voue une tendresse à Nicolas,
son père adoptif. Jeune encore, elle ne s'imagine pas le danger que cours
Fouquet ni combien un roi peut s'avérer si peu noble et si fortement envieux.
Car c'est bien un roi orgueilleux et jaloux que Karin Hann nous peint, <span style="font-size: 14.6667px;">à</span> mon
grand plaisir d'ailleurs. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: black; font-size: 11pt;">À la chute de Fouquet, Althéa
est plongée dans l'infortune. Elle témoigne des événements bouleversants qui mènent à la perte de tout ce qu’elle a jadis aimé. Mais notre héroïne déterminée
s'alliera avec l'homme qui lui a sauvé la vie pour tenter de parvenir à
Nicolas Fouquet que Louis XIV a emprisonné à Pignerol. </span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: black; font-size: 11pt;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZfGqYIjYAVI1f-jhQa5Fh9Uja3YWqPEs6uWAqTHOlBjZdVE2JAzUCBOubz1_tJN9Cy45OQF2ZrZ1GBvy6QbjKuG3LeqOAhsmmLtlMl5WehCS79vTEM-EU4SEiKBOiP8TQ_idzPASU8No1/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="612" data-original-width="700" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZfGqYIjYAVI1f-jhQa5Fh9Uja3YWqPEs6uWAqTHOlBjZdVE2JAzUCBOubz1_tJN9Cy45OQF2ZrZ1GBvy6QbjKuG3LeqOAhsmmLtlMl5WehCS79vTEM-EU4SEiKBOiP8TQ_idzPASU8No1/" width="275" /></a></div><p></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: black; font-size: 11pt;">Au cours de cette aventure, Althéa
découvre une sinistre conspiration mêlant Louis XIV, Fouquet, l'homme au masque
de fer et l'ordre des Templiers. Il existe plusieurs hypothèses historiques
quant à l'origine du masque de fer, et le complot que Karin Hann nous offre
dans ce roman est si judicieusement ficelé, ses détails si bien recherchés que
l'on est tout de suite séduit par l'idée. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p><span style="color: black; font-size: 11pt;">Ce roman est riche en histoire,
en p<span style="font-size: 14.6667px;">é</span>rip<span style="font-size: 14.6667px;">é</span>ties et ne manque pas d'érotisme. Althéa nous paraît comme une femme
audacieuse et intelligente qui semble se nouer facilement avec divers
personnages de la Cour dont, Anne d'Autriche, la reine Marie-Thérèse, ainsi que la
piquante Madame de Montespan, et qui malgré elle, suscite aussi l'intérêt de
Louis XIV. Mais le monde est aussi semé d’épines, et Althéa s'attire un ennemi redoutable
là où elle ne s’y attendait pas. Cette sous-intrigue revisite le thème de la
jalousie, et combien celle-ci peut mener un être humain <span style="font-size: 14.6667px;">à </span>de pires excès.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span style="color: black; font-size: 11pt;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixu0J4GaCqhmjjF32a-Q5uJYLRqHySKCqarWE3zo2GvjFdTfYBAh4xpAA0eV-BrgFklVymkSTes_sc2LX42GSnzSlpPbVwX2CkYJR6n_W7JhdxNjaT64AGOYmPGuUblR-R0wAf4Q-CrXbx/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="779" data-original-width="614" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixu0J4GaCqhmjjF32a-Q5uJYLRqHySKCqarWE3zo2GvjFdTfYBAh4xpAA0eV-BrgFklVymkSTes_sc2LX42GSnzSlpPbVwX2CkYJR6n_W7JhdxNjaT64AGOYmPGuUblR-R0wAf4Q-CrXbx/w315-h400/Portrait_of_Madame_de_Montespan.png" width="315" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;"><i>Madame de Montespan</i></span></div><p></p>
<p><span style="color: black; font-size: 11pt;">Mon personnage préféré est celui
de Saint-Évrard qui incarne avec Mathieu de Mergenteuil et Althéa un triangle
amoureux tragique dont j'ai apprécié la délicate et touchante exécution. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 11pt;">Ce qui ne manque pas d'émouvoir
tout au long du roman c'est cette déchéance physique de Nicolas Fouquet; vieil
homme voûté et maladif vers la fin du livre, homme dont les années, le succès
et la gloire furent volés. Mais si le destin de Fouquet nous attriste, du moins
le roman de Karin Hann apporte une lueur d'espoir. </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: black; font-size: 11pt;">Un très beau livre que je
recommande fortement et qui devrait absolument vous accompagner lors de votre visite au Château de Vaux-le-Vicomte.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkHxW1YJWlDl5aQYb9yX56vQN1Lf-b2guFOAz8-pjqI-9P0hrVcMt_ZKJ9RYZliPTy8q2a1HSbHu325oosiC0g5XDG3jGhpP3uZgvv1_ewnVOpnTwt9YGyqD-gHCuGxbn9QccDjUrxS6pX/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1639" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkHxW1YJWlDl5aQYb9yX56vQN1Lf-b2guFOAz8-pjqI-9P0hrVcMt_ZKJ9RYZliPTy8q2a1HSbHu325oosiC0g5XDG3jGhpP3uZgvv1_ewnVOpnTwt9YGyqD-gHCuGxbn9QccDjUrxS6pX/w320-h400/Le_Ch%25C3%25A2teau_de_Vaux-Le-Vicomte.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Ch</i><span style="font-size: 14.6667px; text-align: left;">â</span><i>teau de Vaux-le-Vicomte</i></div><br /><p></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4332839841587643356.post-4609738555736499642021-06-07T05:07:00.018+10:002021-11-06T22:48:20.736+10:00Le Secret de Chantilly : le roman d'Antonin Carême<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3vjai4GTimz-oymkZqLxIIUHuReU7R7pqZB-d86Iscbd_dbxhHe1wmXOmSSy_feQRAUpwQVgFnJPDB5bqB-Fsj83aDzbXURBoBehfyVAMqrqK2lKOXiCCHv19QRgDpcJ37909qPqxNzPc/s965/Book+Mockup+French+cover1.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="965" data-original-width="776" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3vjai4GTimz-oymkZqLxIIUHuReU7R7pqZB-d86Iscbd_dbxhHe1wmXOmSSy_feQRAUpwQVgFnJPDB5bqB-Fsj83aDzbXURBoBehfyVAMqrqK2lKOXiCCHv19QRgDpcJ37909qPqxNzPc/w321-h400/Book+Mockup+French+cover1.png" width="321" /></a></div><p>Je suis heureuse d'annoncer la parution, cet été, de mon roman historique,<i> Le Secret de Chantilly.</i> </p><p>Dans <i>Le Secret de Chantilly</i>, le cuisinier Marie-Antoine Carême nous livre son conte de fées à travers larmes, joies, sortilèges, châteaux, pâtisseries, une touche de scandale, et toujours ce regard sur le prince de Talleyrand.</p><p>Personnage énigmatique, qui m'a tenue compagnie pendant si longtemps, Talleyrand prend vie dans ce roman où il joue un rôle principal, sans toutefois perdre de son mystique, nous laissant deviner jusqu'à la fin.</p><p>Née de mon grand amour pour la France et pour ce précieux don de l'amitié, c'est une histoire qui célèbre deux génies français : un cuisinier et un homme d'État. Je l'avais d'abord écrite en Anglais avant de comprendre qu'il me fallait absolument une version française. Les deux romans sortiront à quelque mois près, cette année. </p><p>Je voudrais remercier le graphiste, <a href="http://www.rossrobinson.com.au/">Ross Robinson</a>, pour le voyage que nous avons entrepris ensemble pour réaliser cette couverture qui incarne l'essence même de cette histoire. D'abord un fond de blanc - telle une nappe, tel l'immaculé de l'oubli, le blanc d'une toque ou de la merveilleuse crème Chantilly ; ce petit bouquet dont même les tons lilas sont symboliques de l'intrigue ; et enfin, ces filigranes et polices dorées qui ensemble reflètent le milieu où Marie-Antoine Carême évolue, et qui inspirent la magie d'une vie sans pareille, tel un véritable conte de fées.</p><p><br /></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4332839841587643356.post-28059249879896022322021-03-08T22:39:00.008+10:002021-03-09T03:59:25.535+10:00Review: The Queen's Dressmaker by Meghan Masterson<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVQS3sTOYN4NN3qPARKtJhxCZMX0omWPifAfHNuIPARX-0Fk49yJPIlOwsEnSt3fPZVlJUd6LJQTk2yDTchWKoo5c4WCr734tv6ijHvQ0rraHgsan1n4HEo0QSAkDYK1QPTpFPmHoOgjh2/s475/Queen%2527s+Dressmaker.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="475" data-original-width="309" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVQS3sTOYN4NN3qPARKtJhxCZMX0omWPifAfHNuIPARX-0Fk49yJPIlOwsEnSt3fPZVlJUd6LJQTk2yDTchWKoo5c4WCr734tv6ijHvQ0rraHgsan1n4HEo0QSAkDYK1QPTpFPmHoOgjh2/w260-h400/Queen%2527s+Dressmaker.jpg" width="260" /></a></div><p></p><p><i style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, serif;">The Queen’s Dressmaker</i><span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, serif;"> is a well-paced story of loyalty, espionage and love set in the turmoil of the French Revolution.</span></p><span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, serif;">Masterson’s fictitious heroine, Giselle Aubry, offers a gripping and highly plausible first person insight into what it might have been like to serve Marie-Antoinette as wardrobe mistress in the years leading to the queen of France’s imprisonment and beheading.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, serif;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, serif;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, serif;">With meticulous research, the author brilliantly highlights the often absurd transitions of this period, and the tightly wound relationships between French dress, overt political stance, intense social pressure and death itself. I adored the attention to detail placed on clothing and its social symbols.</span><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6UiA9rOVjyOdJlGT3LluuIDSYWx28_zGUTDbvPcnwusV7SmDiO6I_10uzi34R1BjVvkZoJ88dSj5iVnjQ6BvwUW2CmQk9Bn0K-1E27agqdctjEcOwsIjLOmC4NL-ou4Qsa8iHgH852Rj3/s2016/IMG_7024_Original.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1512" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6UiA9rOVjyOdJlGT3LluuIDSYWx28_zGUTDbvPcnwusV7SmDiO6I_10uzi34R1BjVvkZoJ88dSj5iVnjQ6BvwUW2CmQk9Bn0K-1E27agqdctjEcOwsIjLOmC4NL-ou4Qsa8iHgH852Rj3/s320/IMG_7024_Original.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Gowns as seen in Sofia Coppola's <i>Marie-Antoinette</i></span></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Conciergerie exhibition, Dec 2019</span></div><div><br /></div><div><span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, serif;">The plot, deftly entwined with Marie-Antoinette’s tragic fate from 1789 to 1793, follows the romantic relationship between a dressmaker working in Versailles Palace and a republican watchmaker, Léon Gauvain. Giselle’s inner conflict and her torn loyalties are well-executed, lending a cerebral quality to her romance which rather than being thwarted by emotions or jealousy, is imperilled by opposing values.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, serif;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, serif;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, serif;">Encouraged to spy on the queen by her uncle, Pierre-Augustin Caron de Beaumarchais (author of </span><i style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, serif;">Le Mariage de Figaro</i><span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, serif;">), it was interesting to witness Giselle’s stint into espionage evolve from a source of pride – in her own worth, knowledge and intelligence — to a source of shame. An activity begun as voyeurism, and which mirrors the curiosity we modern readers feel for Marie-Antoinette’s life, it, and all other espionage takes on a dangerous quality as the Revolution unfolds.</span></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeTPGoa1qv0PHhkMtSdr1Bv7grt17vE_C7Lmfy4w18z3f9zcmOkIS-PeSMCI_tHc77JR8zlmgLDnVIer4t-oCmvW2fFWeTqbrc-zqUEqXOSKta149DTYLLjfkqs9lnO-7qZUzcLGRyQREB/s624/Portrait_de_Pierre-Augustin_Caron_de_Beaumarchais_%25281755%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="624" data-original-width="484" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeTPGoa1qv0PHhkMtSdr1Bv7grt17vE_C7Lmfy4w18z3f9zcmOkIS-PeSMCI_tHc77JR8zlmgLDnVIer4t-oCmvW2fFWeTqbrc-zqUEqXOSKta149DTYLLjfkqs9lnO-7qZUzcLGRyQREB/s320/Portrait_de_Pierre-Augustin_Caron_de_Beaumarchais_%25281755%2529.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Portrait of Pierre-Augustin Caron de Beaumarchais </span></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Jean-Marc Nattier, 1755</span></div><div><br style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, serif; font-size: 14px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, serif;">From the point of view of character development, I also appreciated how a pure initial fervour into the French republican cause, as held by Léon, could later be tempered once France entered the Terror.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, serif;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, serif;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, serif;">I loved this book. Having studied the French Revolution created added suspense due to my anticipation of upcoming historical events. I worried in advance for the character and was curious to live precariously though her. Those unfamiliar with the French Revolution and with Marie-Antoinette’s fate, would still be highly captivated by this novel as it artfully explains the events and brings them to life in a unique, intimate manner.</span></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO5jZK8ASeZy57iIsNLLNxQGr_hm-1LK4JFikVxdurRm7_N03VPU7j9KFfKDajetXZBd2Bla-NluF3AGLiLEbPpWBCEJeKOuf22m_u6ldxDinSOhN0hJMR9CRfUA23SEKrHtJ2cTuYVIfZ/s1512/IMG_9590.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1512" data-original-width="1512" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO5jZK8ASeZy57iIsNLLNxQGr_hm-1LK4JFikVxdurRm7_N03VPU7j9KFfKDajetXZBd2Bla-NluF3AGLiLEbPpWBCEJeKOuf22m_u6ldxDinSOhN0hJMR9CRfUA23SEKrHtJ2cTuYVIfZ/s320/IMG_9590.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Marie-Antoinette (1783) by Élisabeth Vigée Le Brun</span></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Versailles Palace</span></div><span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, serif;">The novel’s cast of real life characters, including the heart-warming Madame Campan, General Lafayette, Maximilien Robespierre and journalist, Camille Desmoulins, further grounds this historical novel into the world of the French Revolution. There was a cute cameo from Talleyrand which I appreciated.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, serif;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, serif;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, serif;">Highly recommended for lovers of France, Marie-Antoinette, clothing, and historical fiction.</span></div><div><span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, serif; font-size: 14px;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSBH7tLgsPWYfgbsF16ZluaDYLm0aja6HjXvg3R9fq990IAJONdysXtD6mGeFF9TzBNfejPXoA0yiz-tx3uQwd-io-Jf3wBjukA5Dc1VGfri6-3pldINg8kerosKz3B6slmdkVyo9eofH-/s2016/IMG_9310.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1512" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSBH7tLgsPWYfgbsF16ZluaDYLm0aja6HjXvg3R9fq990IAJONdysXtD6mGeFF9TzBNfejPXoA0yiz-tx3uQwd-io-Jf3wBjukA5Dc1VGfri6-3pldINg8kerosKz3B6slmdkVyo9eofH-/s320/IMG_9310.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Versailles Palace, door details</span></div><div><br /></div></div></div><div><br /></div><div>Many thanks to Bookouture and NetGalley for this ARC.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4332839841587643356.post-45395088778271315312021-03-03T21:49:00.013+10:002021-03-03T22:19:10.864+10:00Chronique : Abyssinia par Alexandre Page<p><br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7njMLdqak7CnMhV36ojdyScITmey9UqDn7YPu5zw518K6uzxh8LT6MuuHBlDvR1CIpqBh-OOa0Ma9_VD2w78mMxpMOJb3oGWM4K4NYG9qbzJHUifSzQu-MBH17_Au-MgtTei6eRhO24uz/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="484" data-original-width="320" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7njMLdqak7CnMhV36ojdyScITmey9UqDn7YPu5zw518K6uzxh8LT6MuuHBlDvR1CIpqBh-OOa0Ma9_VD2w78mMxpMOJb3oGWM4K4NYG9qbzJHUifSzQu-MBH17_Au-MgtTei6eRhO24uz/w424-h640/Leontiev_Nikolay.jpg" width="424" /></a></div></div><p></p><p>Grâce au prodigieux travail d'Alexandre Page, j'ai eu l'immense plaisir au cours de l'hiver de me transporter à la fin du 19e siècle et de suivre les aventures d'une mission diplomatique russe en Abyssinie. </p><p>Nous sommes en 1897 et l'empereur Ménélik II règne sur des terres abyssines, progressivement conquises. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH4fp82EwTJj1bJFNTBhFm97PCl0D-6T1zh36J8Dvup38j5qdLkV2c6JsXd3B1moq4OC24hSKJRBqD9PA2hfw0aAYgUzceM0YtT_AkQ0kvjnaj2RKX-qwKQPcwbSG_IdcVt9ZszY1Tjrpl/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="306" data-original-width="330" height="371" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH4fp82EwTJj1bJFNTBhFm97PCl0D-6T1zh36J8Dvup38j5qdLkV2c6JsXd3B1moq4OC24hSKJRBqD9PA2hfw0aAYgUzceM0YtT_AkQ0kvjnaj2RKX-qwKQPcwbSG_IdcVt9ZszY1Tjrpl/w400-h371/Empire+Ethiopien.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />En novembre 1896, apparaissait cette photo dans <i>Le Petit Parisien</i>. Elle y figure les italiens signant la traite d'Addis-Abeba le 26 octobre 1896, devant Ménélik, après leur importante défaite face à l'armée éthiopienne. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkZrwUu945iL58Spjn3qfziz5Kl1gqwcsGXlQ8wewqHYf8xytKXS43Futp7m6JkS4D4bCZASZxy8HZUxVwoc2xdSfiTnRYR-N2HKZQHMuVknawpejMlY4E7ofOYLm5BRPr4sC090b4HtzS/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1454" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkZrwUu945iL58Spjn3qfziz5Kl1gqwcsGXlQ8wewqHYf8xytKXS43Futp7m6JkS4D4bCZASZxy8HZUxVwoc2xdSfiTnRYR-N2HKZQHMuVknawpejMlY4E7ofOYLm5BRPr4sC090b4HtzS/w453-h640/1896+Le+Petit+Parisien.jpeg" width="453" /></a></div><br />C'est peu de temps suivant ces événements que commence le formidable récit d'Alexandre Page, ABYSSINIA...<p></p><p><br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNDhf5hfcwUUvDIvLzvgqDO5E3cq0iNnMR5Phsxm8C9wGtXJ0BLp2s1yeRB1nZaBnxaXjjxYpgFQfoCOja_NJaga7r0ex1MINqQ0JxbgWezMkawSIhfPoUEhCWVNg8etS_YNwL8XronYyS/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="499" data-original-width="352" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNDhf5hfcwUUvDIvLzvgqDO5E3cq0iNnMR5Phsxm8C9wGtXJ0BLp2s1yeRB1nZaBnxaXjjxYpgFQfoCOja_NJaga7r0ex1MINqQ0JxbgWezMkawSIhfPoUEhCWVNg8etS_YNwL8XronYyS/w282-h400/Abyssinia.jpg" width="282" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i>"Ménélik descendait du roi Salomon, de la reine de Saba, et ces noms seuls suffisaient à nourrir infiniment des esprits imaginatifs." </i><i style="text-align: center;">- </i><span style="text-align: center;">Alexandre Page, Abyssinia : Volume I</span></div><p></p><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, serif;">Docteur Alexandre Page nous livre une œuvre titanesque qui ne lésine en rien à chaque page.</span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, serif;">Ce livre, c'est un trésor historique, un long voyage. C'est une fresque géographique et culturelle vertigineuse. C'est le récit d'une expédition russe en Abyssinie, à la fin du 19e siècle. Nous sommes intimes avec cette expédition. Nous vivons ses épreuves (ah oui, ce n'est pas si facile de se procurer des chameaux et je ne dis rien sur les fourmis géantes...), nous nous émouvons de ses découvertes, ses rencontres et ses échanges, dont certains sont teintés d'humour. La lecture demande du temps, tellement les pages sont riches, mais ce rythme est parfait, car il nous place aisément dans la peau des personnages pour lesquels cette aventure est une véritable épopée, longue de plusieurs mois.</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRUOjZREOytTa3T5YkmiV__T51mZuR5NDaSJ6fj-z0oCzs9T8RjeWsf99t0ymKsEulZRDg8yNOQ24d2D6a0CROsawwDCLukIyI5v1H0gq0HXrymI8kYZxM2cY2UY4AsUL0FkadJxEpHNRE/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRUOjZREOytTa3T5YkmiV__T51mZuR5NDaSJ6fj-z0oCzs9T8RjeWsf99t0ymKsEulZRDg8yNOQ24d2D6a0CROsawwDCLukIyI5v1H0gq0HXrymI8kYZxM2cY2UY4AsUL0FkadJxEpHNRE/w320-h320/Leopard.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, serif;">On ne peut qu'admirer la patience et la maîtrise dont fait preuve l'auteur : recherches historiques approfondies sur un sujet difficile (car moins connu), descriptions évocatrices de personnages et de paysages, un style posé qui sied parfaitement à l'époque, et toujours cette retenue pour exposer les faits sans tenter de pencher le lecteur ou la lectrice vers une certaine opinion politique. On y découvre une Abyssinie indépendante (la plupart des pays d'Afrique à cette époque sont sous une emprise coloniale occidentale), puissante, riche, souvent guerrière, une terre peuplée de diverses ethnies — certaines d'elles, conquises — mais toutes aussi différentes, voire fascinantes, les unes que les autres.</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW_z6-SFVikuPnmCxQPCVFxB2FeRkqF-mHAwTHNPuzxL0HwP-joomj__RjRXEx5bTDKklQHM9ajMFnpgBxbGhORww4rMKswshLDao1Lx7MomK36uRsYzBFctaPKSQMEJ0NvZ3QPK_IgOzy/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW_z6-SFVikuPnmCxQPCVFxB2FeRkqF-mHAwTHNPuzxL0HwP-joomj__RjRXEx5bTDKklQHM9ajMFnpgBxbGhORww4rMKswshLDao1Lx7MomK36uRsYzBFctaPKSQMEJ0NvZ3QPK_IgOzy/w320-h320/Paysages+1.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj89xa_0zIdT0XVcYT-Jkx-L8DHHmzQ8vgWzofsvIpwG9jcIaYisU3HdxN0sWeowfki9GXlVc7ZlK68grCRsKqt7Q1bdaoQoZZTi8MJTyp2QKx2iTluHk-m0gV5-VxH3h0wA-0EY3p_JAbp/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj89xa_0zIdT0XVcYT-Jkx-L8DHHmzQ8vgWzofsvIpwG9jcIaYisU3HdxN0sWeowfki9GXlVc7ZlK68grCRsKqt7Q1bdaoQoZZTi8MJTyp2QKx2iTluHk-m0gV5-VxH3h0wA-0EY3p_JAbp/w320-h320/Oppression.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p><br style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, serif; font-size: 14px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, serif;">Les aspects du livre que j'ai trouvé particulièrement enrichissants sont ses portraits de personnages russes et de leur comportement dans plusieurs situations sociales complexes, ainsi que les descriptions des us et coutumes de chaque ethnie locale.</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCmosn_F9a56AlfWB3oW17kAWKCnjRubWsQDuglJUoxRwO60oB2FbcX-2bRmFIofCWqb1hWBJ29A2LQk0-HDlDuLLuekTOObFbCc4yRYYsUeJL6RCdsnkGexQCmGJSaLlfXMTyuBIfD9vV/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCmosn_F9a56AlfWB3oW17kAWKCnjRubWsQDuglJUoxRwO60oB2FbcX-2bRmFIofCWqb1hWBJ29A2LQk0-HDlDuLLuekTOObFbCc4yRYYsUeJL6RCdsnkGexQCmGJSaLlfXMTyuBIfD9vV/w400-h400/IMG_2757.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i>Sans doute ma citation préférée dans ce très beau livre</i></div><br style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, serif; font-size: 14px;" /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl61_pQTZjiZZskE563EoASCbjgyPU3UKTy4lS1ppDXYjYh3TzeBWoZnnSWPxZ4mSLXp6W_cNfwpPEmuo058QLdjBn3qfEz1muOVH6fEJ7LGQLKcKbtyG7EGdAWk7aZ5txdim0Yx1pMPrp/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl61_pQTZjiZZskE563EoASCbjgyPU3UKTy4lS1ppDXYjYh3TzeBWoZnnSWPxZ4mSLXp6W_cNfwpPEmuo058QLdjBn3qfEz1muOVH6fEJ7LGQLKcKbtyG7EGdAWk7aZ5txdim0Yx1pMPrp/w400-h400/Us+et+Coutumes.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, serif; font-size: 14px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, serif;">J'ai retenu plusieurs passages grâce à ce texte. Je me suis délectée de la manière dont l'auteur crée l'ambiance d'un repas dans différentes contrées. Je garde un souvenir inoubliable des descriptions des villes et des marchés, des femmes, de cette rencontre entre les Russes et des esclaves, et surtout de ces dialogues nuancés qui dépeignent le climat politique de l'époque.</span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNIbU11d6OBD4n0Gu72WeioQFoHtrh3cl3zCJqm4ME0gviQSnb4_uTQjVqd1NR8a89yEiBDX3Idk0LI73QQrJZ14NlY6ls0YzsLPwsdmSILKlPdtAlSbRk9hxK6dTcOr2J3xOoLSPp3zBz/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNIbU11d6OBD4n0Gu72WeioQFoHtrh3cl3zCJqm4ME0gviQSnb4_uTQjVqd1NR8a89yEiBDX3Idk0LI73QQrJZ14NlY6ls0YzsLPwsdmSILKlPdtAlSbRk9hxK6dTcOr2J3xOoLSPp3zBz/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEU2vNQTI1OALfmJcy9JcYKDQLXYn1wdQN5K5L01qbfVYTOsTIUWPYqtoetElStvtcLLks4XRlyuQfiM93QhDCq-Rvepe_am8I7jwo2J19iguGjqElwHVUDPD1BIA4b96ahRCNC71WaBAZ/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEU2vNQTI1OALfmJcy9JcYKDQLXYn1wdQN5K5L01qbfVYTOsTIUWPYqtoetElStvtcLLks4XRlyuQfiM93QhDCq-Rvepe_am8I7jwo2J19iguGjqElwHVUDPD1BIA4b96ahRCNC71WaBAZ/w320-h320/Harar.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /></div><div>Je vous laisse avec quelques aperçus sur les Français de la part de personnages russes. :)</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd_7hRdd3klPXQFagNWRE65-jjjmqobeWTShFNDEMiLVRf37F5wjsOemJcMTXFzbs2QRJZbEwQHW4Aq5rCDppZQgCTqYr-BGM1LsglOuOEGhsxKGW64agU0C6iMeGvLJHBxX14w2qOjy3N/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd_7hRdd3klPXQFagNWRE65-jjjmqobeWTShFNDEMiLVRf37F5wjsOemJcMTXFzbs2QRJZbEwQHW4Aq5rCDppZQgCTqYr-BGM1LsglOuOEGhsxKGW64agU0C6iMeGvLJHBxX14w2qOjy3N/w320-h320/Une+pensee+russe.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLxsghpJ1SrrBS8KDIclleG5heTB3zo0EK3pm4FmxzjM5pcBjkleNxSspvsUAFYQV3umecBtBY_AvdH9s0c593Cr_ohYr6kotdVX-theDGongFTSI-JKoa0LhheAG1zANFsau3P_WoR5Qj/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLxsghpJ1SrrBS8KDIclleG5heTB3zo0EK3pm4FmxzjM5pcBjkleNxSspvsUAFYQV3umecBtBY_AvdH9s0c593Cr_ohYr6kotdVX-theDGongFTSI-JKoa0LhheAG1zANFsau3P_WoR5Qj/w320-h320/Les+Francais.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><br /></div><br /><br /><p></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4332839841587643356.post-49585594644002245252021-02-22T23:38:00.005+10:002021-02-23T08:47:45.605+10:00Calista - my new novel<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBNX23KrXIRmr42C3JkjxAmoYBAzVJeLfoKAagq-WO0_1xJe_gaJ_JESy9YPmtp9JuC5e0Ox90UdaI4syXSUNBm7c1bw3Rm1TQyGgkx7Nu0qUm8lef65fUUUOxjeXFQHWBl-xnrJF1ea2l/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1668" data-original-width="1106" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBNX23KrXIRmr42C3JkjxAmoYBAzVJeLfoKAagq-WO0_1xJe_gaJ_JESy9YPmtp9JuC5e0Ox90UdaI4syXSUNBm7c1bw3Rm1TQyGgkx7Nu0qUm8lef65fUUUOxjeXFQHWBl-xnrJF1ea2l/w212-h320/Calista.jpg" width="212" /></a></div><p>I am pleased to announce the publication of my Victorian gothic novel, CALISTA, to be released on 25 May 2021. This book combines two long-held obsessions of mine. Alas, I am sworn to secrecy and it is unfortunate that I cannot share anything of the plot beyond this. </p><p>Despite my lifelong fixation on certain themes, I had not planned on writing this book at all. The idea took shape after a trip to Greece last year, after which I had little choice but to set aside other projects and craft this story. </p><p>Calista is a horror mystery set in both England and Greece. The plot, spanning the years 1835 to 1848 mostly takes place in Alexandra Hall, an isolated mansion in Berkshire. French Inspector, Maurice Leroux, must solve a series of curious deaths not knowing that what he will find will change him forever. </p><p>I can't wait to share this story with you! </p><p>I want to take this opportunity to extend my heartful thanks to graphic designer, <a href="http://www.rossrobinson.com.au/" target="_blank">Ross Robinson</a>, for Calista's gorgeous book cover. Ross is based in Queensland, Australia but has worked in Sydney and the UK in the past. His work is exceptional. I've worked with Ross in the past when creating the cover for my novel, Julien's Terror. Each time, he really understood what I wanted and went above and beyond. </p><p><br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip8gs238XKGpTOo-IOYr1m1yWPYWOlHUl2S_-668pYNatxrqEPO9ll_f1zHiuuboZ3PxbsJvwnFvRgo4moQWuk0x26MILK7F95gl6z8nWMHTqIQar-HvpxAUyUDhDvgYqPmx0XmzvIvRKq/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1475" data-original-width="2048" height="288" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip8gs238XKGpTOo-IOYr1m1yWPYWOlHUl2S_-668pYNatxrqEPO9ll_f1zHiuuboZ3PxbsJvwnFvRgo4moQWuk0x26MILK7F95gl6z8nWMHTqIQar-HvpxAUyUDhDvgYqPmx0XmzvIvRKq/w400-h288/Calista+Paperback+with+blurb+-+200+to+share.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />This book cover for Calista combines all the elements I had in mind and executes it in such a beautiful way. I long to hold this book in my hands. <p></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4332839841587643356.post-69383739773427313632021-02-07T21:55:00.009+10:002021-02-08T06:16:20.038+10:00Review: All the Murmuring Bones by Angela Slatter<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh1LtMMASBM1_-G5D3MRtOxRohxOlRlmYybuWEEj4TzfnIkj4UwE31o2x5FTfDbAO0q-Yqk-CHgkzomlIddsefaeMstE2HFSv3_IcLIpGLZUfpJrqDPbpI2csOy5srb4bUXOiVuY290DXx/s1423/All+the+murmuring+bones.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1423" data-original-width="978" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh1LtMMASBM1_-G5D3MRtOxRohxOlRlmYybuWEEj4TzfnIkj4UwE31o2x5FTfDbAO0q-Yqk-CHgkzomlIddsefaeMstE2HFSv3_IcLIpGLZUfpJrqDPbpI2csOy5srb4bUXOiVuY290DXx/w275-h400/All+the+murmuring+bones.jpg" width="275" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">When I learned that multi-award-winning author, <a href="https://www.angelaslatter.com/">Angela Slatter</a>, had penned a mermaid fantasy novel, I knew it would be a gripping read. Even with its cover and title, <i>All the Murmuring Bones</i> evoked the gothic and spawned dark visions of an ocean underworld. I was also curious about the secret pact between the O'Malley family and the merfolk: safety for their merchant ships in return for a child of each generation. A plot that promised danger, magic, sacrifice and likely, evil deeds. <i>All the Murmuring Bones</i> delivered all this and more. I've not read a story that so artfully depicts sea-folk as ghoulish sinister forces. As it turned out, this young adult novel comes with more than one mystery to unearth and it's a well-paced fantasy adventure along the way to answers.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Miren, the descendant of a long line of O'Malleys whose fortune has fallen into ruin despite a prosperous past, was abandoned as a child by her mother and raised by her grandparents. Upon her grandfather's death, she inherits the decrepit castle at Hob's Hallow. We get a sense quite early that Miren is curious, feisty and thinks for herself. That latter trait will come in handy when her destitute grandmother has in mind that Miren will wed her wealthy cousin, Aidan Fitzpatrick. Grandmother thinks there's much profit to be made from this scheme. Not so innocent Miren watches herself get pampered and gifted with numerous frocks, along with a magical quilt that will have disastrous effects. This passage of the novel is effective at giving us Miren's point of view as a conflicted young woman who sees her world collapsing and is confronted with choices. I personally enjoyed all those dress descriptions even if they came with a dangerous deal. For Miren can't shake the fact that there's a strong sense of menace in marrying the devious Aidan Fitzpatrick. That, along with her burning desire to find her mysterious mother, Isolde, will see her flee from the family home and set off on an adventure.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Along the way, merfolk, witches, rusalki, corpsewights<span face="arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #202124; font-size: small;">—</span> this novel has its share of bone-chilling encounters. After all, this is a world where witches are not burnt and where the Queen of Thieves, a cunning business woman, rules them all. I thoroughly enjoyed the horror aspects of this novel. Earlier, the creepy scene at the port's Weeping Gate where Miren is attacked underwater by mermaids and learns that she is cursed with her family's debt, sets the pace for what is to come. Then as Miren journeys to find her mother, one memorable tense scene sees her strike a bargain with three revenants. The courageous Miren must solve their riddle or else suffer what may.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP4Yqz76vjycd4LNytsb9zk49K3GTxS4UyGoiS_eAt9ilvIHmWBEuRM8oawRktWgPh4eXYjePkUX0hKc6kweD6FzA50Xv5jOsXiEFcgdO_ADm4Qwg4G8IImpBFyC_uecNQQXMlRB42xHgc/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img alt="" data-original-height="323" data-original-width="235" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP4Yqz76vjycd4LNytsb9zk49K3GTxS4UyGoiS_eAt9ilvIHmWBEuRM8oawRktWgPh4eXYjePkUX0hKc6kweD6FzA50Xv5jOsXiEFcgdO_ADm4Qwg4G8IImpBFyC_uecNQQXMlRB42xHgc/w292-h400/IMG_0240.JPG" width="292" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">But horror has no need of fantasy to inject fear, and one of the darkest sections in this deliciously gothic story borrows from traditional themes<span face="arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #202124; font-size: small;">—</span> secret identity, crime, hidden rooms and family lies. Once Miren arrives in the mining village of Blackwater, there's more than one eerie passage, and Angela Slatter is adept at creating an atmosphere of the uncanny while building up the tension. Miren will discover the stunning truth about her mother but before that, she'll need to apply her clever wits to untangle the mysteries at Blackwater.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">One of the strengths of this novel is Angela Slatter's masterfully crafted lyrical voice. It really is beautiful. Right from the first chapter, the spellbinding prose creates a sense of place that transports. Throughout the book, as Miren reflects on her family's secret history, the author artfully weaves in short fantasy fables where witches and merfolks come alive through her skilled narration. There's never a feeling, though, that the plot is scattered, and these short tales serve as hints to solving the main mystery. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The theme of family stood out for me. <i>All the Murmuring Bones</i> suggests that family is not always kind, and often family members cannot be trusted or at least they require us to keep a sceptical eye. It is a refreshing and daring message. It also carries lessons about how we choose to treat one another despite our past. While in the story, a supernatural curse is passed on within the family over many generations, in the real world, there are curses of another nature that families tend to pass to one another...betrayal, hurt, or even abandonment. With this in mind, I held on to Miren’s insight:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: georgia;"><i></i></span><blockquote><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: georgia;"><i><span>"Some folk make a point of not visiting pain on others when it's done to them; </span><span>most people though, think it's their due to inflict a little of their own agony."</span></i></span></blockquote><span style="font-family: georgia;"></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Miren does learn from this lesson in the way she comes to treat others. Meanwhile there's also plenty we can learn from her non-materialistic decisions at the end of the story.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I highly recommend <i>All the Murmuring Bones </i>for its deep levels and its gripping, entertaining story. I believe it is likely to please adults as well. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">A huge thank you to <a href="https://titanbooks.com/">Titan Books</a> for sending me a review copy of this novel.</div><br /> <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfus_WafdIcRbn7VUiLLxTkODM9LaEf6wDElvCC7BeZDg8T00VDKVEhrdt-aZv45LKOr7w_ZusyncJLTcYZbmdiRHgBrY5A31UoH8C1vHIBh55RzZSXdAamUk3qPFp5rtjeha7RIrFNu7n/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1223" data-original-width="800" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfus_WafdIcRbn7VUiLLxTkODM9LaEf6wDElvCC7BeZDg8T00VDKVEhrdt-aZv45LKOr7w_ZusyncJLTcYZbmdiRHgBrY5A31UoH8C1vHIBh55RzZSXdAamUk3qPFp5rtjeha7RIrFNu7n/w262-h400/AllTheMurmuringBones_y80iesP.jpg" width="262" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><i>All the Murmuring Bones</i> by <a href="https://www.angelaslatter.com/">Angela Slatter</a> is out on 9 March, 2021. </b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><p><br /></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4332839841587643356.post-55618088478913930442020-12-20T07:54:00.003+10:002020-12-20T07:58:54.620+10:00Calista - my first horror novel<div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnMoSk60jta0iRsFPS1bCW9VWgh_hOlu7nmJRYZ0aIkkrHgGwN5xzMtpZ94N76U0k7EJMz-hXf3-PQXozlTUpuiwUd-rWd9FQRfpOLOX62Vy27rJEcjGWaWZoX6RpNAdeS0JLXHPcnXrPH/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1345" data-original-width="1058" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnMoSk60jta0iRsFPS1bCW9VWgh_hOlu7nmJRYZ0aIkkrHgGwN5xzMtpZ94N76U0k7EJMz-hXf3-PQXozlTUpuiwUd-rWd9FQRfpOLOX62Vy27rJEcjGWaWZoX6RpNAdeS0JLXHPcnXrPH/w315-h400/Uncle+Silas+small.jpeg" width="315" /></a></div><br /><br /></div>When my mother was pregnant with me and living in Senegal, her favorite thing to do was head to the cinema and watch a horror movie. I often joke and tell her, while feigning admonishment, that the horrors she experienced as she rode on waves of suspense and scares would have chemically passed to me, her vulnerable foetus. In what drugged state would I have existed, I wonder, as I floated about in that cushy womb, dreading another traumatic rush of adrenaline... Would I have become as addicted as she was? Would I have ached for similar thrills in my youth to compensate for the loss of this potent mix of chemicals? And was this perhaps the reason why as a young child, I was fascinated by the macabre and why as early as four years of age, I sat quietly with my mum and grandmother, watching supernatural horror movies like <i>The Entity</i> and <i>Audrey Rose?</i> Mind you, I was not spared the ensuing nightmares, but then again, what we love is not necessarily good for us.<div><div><br /></div><div>Years later, I married a horror screenwriter and while I know from observing him and his many horror filmmaker friends, that horror writers are the sweetest people on earth – counterintuitive but true – I also knew that it would be just a matter of time until I'd try my hand at a wicked tale. (Because I'm also very sweet like that.)</div><div><br /></div><div>Sheridan Le Fanu, Arthur Machen, Charlotte Dacre, Stephen King, Mary Shelley, Anne Rice, Daphne du Maurier and Wilkie Collins, are writers I admire in the suspense/horror genre. I'm a lover of atmosphere and ambiguity so these authors have been my go-to for gaining inspiration and for that general feeling of, "<i>whoa, I want to write like that</i>". Apart from Stephen King and to a degree, Anne Rice, their material is also delightfully old-fashioned which suits my historical novelist bend. I also love nasty women in novels. My greatest scare in this department is still Madame de la Rougiere in Uncle Silas but Wilkie Collins and Charlotte Dacre have nothing to envy. </div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjySqfns4H3QEwGRLURfu1EeZN4Cc-M_5cOYn292hIuRgFUM3_nM4KUxsb75lc29HEOFcoLYI8py0nzt2xZZcJuUgTOvDIcvtUKWWDm7ab99UZ3nbakFRZn3IMEUslXqDTFqy1jTDU9aE4K/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1038" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjySqfns4H3QEwGRLURfu1EeZN4Cc-M_5cOYn292hIuRgFUM3_nM4KUxsb75lc29HEOFcoLYI8py0nzt2xZZcJuUgTOvDIcvtUKWWDm7ab99UZ3nbakFRZn3IMEUslXqDTFqy1jTDU9aE4K/w203-h400/Uncle+Silas+cover.jpg" width="203" /></a></div><br /></div><div>For almost two years, I had been wanting to write a novel about a certain [secret] topic that is dear to me. It was my novel XX. I didn't know what it would be about but I knew it had to feature <i>that</i> topic.</div><div><br /></div><div>While in Greece this year, a horror story came to me and suddenly it made so much sense to merge this wicked tale with my topic of choice, that I wondered why I hadn't thought of it earlier. So you could say that I decided then and there to write a horror novel as a vehicle for my pet topic. I'm really happy to have made that decision. (And Greece was fun too.) </div><div><br /></div><div>But when should it be set? And where? I looked up a period of Greek history that is distinct for its political situation, and decided based on this research that my novel would be set after the Greek War of Independence, and – due to some other logistic details that I will not reveal – well before 1853. I settled on the period between 1836 and 1850. This historical horror novel would take place in both England and Greece; a Victorian novel with a Greek influence!</div><div><br /></div><div>I titled it, <i>CALISTA,</i> like my female character.</div><div><br /></div><div>I've just about completed the first draft. It is shorter than all my other novels and definitely shorter than my debut novel, <i>The Ming Storytellers</i> which totalled at 610+ pages. For <i>Calista</i>, I had initially envisaged a novella but there was so much I wished to say that I realised it couldn't be less than 50k words. So a novel it is. </div><div><br /></div><div>I will be launching a cover early in the year but in the meantime, I'm loving this creepy experience. I'm right back in that womb, so to speak, the hormones are rushing in, and I've a devilish smile on my face.</div><div><br /></div><div>See you next year.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4332839841587643356.post-39203764651941858792020-12-12T04:37:00.009+10:002020-12-14T07:10:21.384+10:00Warm Christmas Wishes<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdLF41_bT26EUBScCImBMzbykg1TpFb9oRlr0c-g7_vWXJ6DWWPxi5-u4l3GwxK6LBWVsCkYYn21sP7qL8fbmtQGVh_9H-HtnktHIZnmf8ioxKQB8mLafZ5F706hX2P0h-XOI2pC2Mh5PA/s1466/Christmas+All+Books.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1466" data-original-width="997" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdLF41_bT26EUBScCImBMzbykg1TpFb9oRlr0c-g7_vWXJ6DWWPxi5-u4l3GwxK6LBWVsCkYYn21sP7qL8fbmtQGVh_9H-HtnktHIZnmf8ioxKQB8mLafZ5F706hX2P0h-XOI2pC2Mh5PA/w273-h400/Christmas+All+Books.jpg" width="273" /></a></div><p><br /></p><p>Sending warm Christmas wishes to all the wonderful readers and writers out there. If you're interested, my historical novels will be free on <u><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Laura-Rahme/e/B008P7CF8K" target="_blank">Kindle</a></u> from 15 to 18 December, with <b>Julien's Terror</b> also free on an extra day, up to 19 December. This is for all Amazon territories. </p><p>It's a little gift from me to anyone who has wished for more books in these times but has had to endure financial restrictions. It doesn't seem like much, I know, and it doesn't compare to a good meal but the value, believe me, is significant, because due to my nature and the conditions in which I choose to write, it so happens that for every book I wrote, I temporarily gave up a job and therefore my income. Writers are a little crazy, aren't they? </p><p>Sometimes senseless things take over your life.</p><p>Like 2020.</p><p>Hardship has the power to bring out the best in people or to exacerbate their worst. But we always have the choice. If you had to examine the year that just went past (yes, <i>that</i> year!) and indicate your highest achievement, what would it be? </p><p>Was it that you kept your head cool and showed endless patience during those periods when you had to juggle working from home, online schooling and children's homework while also running a home? </p><p>Was it that you reached out to the aged and the isolated by sending a warm letter to a stranger? </p><p>Was it that you developed better communication skills and finessed your diplomacy when dealing with particularly difficult co-workers while all of you were forced to work from home? </p><p>Did you find yourself thinking more of others, those who have less than you? </p><p>Did you appreciate moments of humour? </p><p>Did your creativity explode in the kitchen as a result of restaurants having closed? Did you support your local struggling businesses? </p><p>Did you spend more time with your child? Did you read more? Write more? Say I love you more? </p><p>Did you rediscover the awe of nature? How utterly precious it is...</p><p>Were you kind?</p><p>Were you kind to yourself?</p><p>Some people may feel they achieved nothing, but they would be wrong. For certain individuals, each day may have been a struggle; to eat, to feed their children, to avoid crying, to stay alive... They were in fact the highest achievers this year.</p><p>With ongoing social distancing rules, the near absence of smiles occasioned by the persistent wearing of masks, the loss of this positive emotional contagion during good times - parties, sport events, large gatherings, concerts - people of all ages have been threatened with or felt alienation and loneliness. It would have taken them enormous spiritual courage to keep functioning. </p><p>At the same time, the most difficult challenge for those who struggled with loss of income, who were cut off from their job network and who felt a sense of failure, or lack of control, was to avoid succumbing to anger, depression and despair. To know that you were dealt an unfair blow and yet to continue to hope, is true power. </p><p>To remain strong, to learn to calm the mind, is an achievement in itself. An achievement in resilience and human courage.</p><p>I wish you peace.</p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4332839841587643356.post-5561819857171485632020-10-01T20:18:00.002+10:002020-10-01T20:52:04.847+10:00Review: Midnight Fire by P.K. Adams<p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN9RFBkdi12puHXnaIOg4Kfq9IOX8mghvVNio0uZMmCZZ1oZv57EOB60-vPQNhpA4rvCjcDfXw2NJI9e98zjTFRONq7KWVAGDAbZRZafs6GtIYeSfdfyFRH5WgXzi4GJjVehAeOUp6QJvN/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="599" data-original-width="499" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN9RFBkdi12puHXnaIOg4Kfq9IOX8mghvVNio0uZMmCZZ1oZv57EOB60-vPQNhpA4rvCjcDfXw2NJI9e98zjTFRONq7KWVAGDAbZRZafs6GtIYeSfdfyFRH5WgXzi4GJjVehAeOUp6QJvN/w334-h400/Jan_Matejko_-_Zygmunt_August_z_Barbar%25C4%2585.jpg" width="334" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p>Having read and enjoyed <i>Silent Water</i>, I felt fortunate to obtain an advanced review copy of P.K. Adams' <i>Midnight Fire, </i>the second book in her Jagiellon mystery trilogy. Out next week, this is one novel you don't want to miss if you are a fan of cosy mysteries and long to time travel to the Polish Golden Age. </p><p>P.K. Adams is a talented writer who breathes atmosphere and colour to a period that few historical novelists have dared to tread. Employing artful descriptions and an engrossing prose, she effortlessly merges an absorbing plot with her cultural and historical knowledge of 16th century Poland. Once again the astute and introspective Caterina Konarska who almost lost her life in <i>Silent Water</i>, is thrown into the intrigues of the fascinating Jagiellonian court to become our key detective; a treat.</p><p>More king than her husband, it is Bona Sforza who in this year of 1545 remains the iron-fisted ruler of both Poland and Lithuania. Officially, her son, Zygmunt August, rules as second king and has setup his court in Vilnius, Lithuania. Many years have passed since Bona first arrived in Poland for her marriage, and now, much like Catherine de Medici — an Italian queen in a foreign land – Bona’s origins have begun to paint her in negative light. It is no secret that she is strongly opposed to her son’s desire to marry his scandalous Lithuanian lover, Barbara Radziwiłł, and there are those, like the estranged Zygmunt himself, who believe she is ruthless enough to kill to prevent this marriage. Much maligned, Bona’s political instinct is to see that her son marries a Habsburg, forging a powerful alliance with that empire. In a court where her supporters have dwindled to a few, who can she trust to impose her will and prevent Zygmunt from marrying Barbara? </p><p>Newly arrived in Kraków after a long journey from Bari in Italy, Caterina who remembers the prestigious and progressive Polish court, is seeking to consult one of Queen Bona’s physicians in the hope that he can cure her son, Giulio’s mysterious recurring fevers. Bona advises her to travel to the Vilnius court to see one of her Italian physicians. Much like the readers who have encountered Caterina’s sleuthing and her sharp mind in the first book, Bona recognises a capable woman in Caterina and doesn’t miss the opportunity to entrust her with a delicate mission of dissuasion targeting Zygmunt – the nature of which she hopes will save her son from a disastrous marriage. </p><p>History tells us that Caterina will not succeed. Today we can gaze at the delightful 19th century Jan Matejko painting depicting Zygmunt August as he cradles Barbara Radziwiłł in Vilnius, the two enraptured in a loving embrace. We know that the couple eventually wed, albeit in secret. Then again there is Józef Simmler’s haunting <i>The Death of Barbara Radziwiłł</i> that captures a heart-wrenching scene. Here, an ashen Barbara lies in bed, her lifeless arm dangling to the floor, while a powerless and broken-hearted Zygmunt looks on, knowing he has lost her forever. The painting is a stark reminder that only five months after her coronation, Barbara will find death at only 30 years of age. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz274MuGlFumHoLfoeadkSUU9wXTaGZKGrhgL6I-o06q8_-8-4-X6mNoBNFJOPyz0nAbDeFRvFUhAzzPnmjNf-uMc6ugjy4Cy0zVGgVhDhM1etSqUIxj5T9vG-_TW6ln_Lr85zNDR69UDQ/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1769" data-original-width="2048" height="345" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz274MuGlFumHoLfoeadkSUU9wXTaGZKGrhgL6I-o06q8_-8-4-X6mNoBNFJOPyz0nAbDeFRvFUhAzzPnmjNf-uMc6ugjy4Cy0zVGgVhDhM1etSqUIxj5T9vG-_TW6ln_Lr85zNDR69UDQ/w400-h345/The+Death+of+Barbara+Radziwill.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><p></p><p>Doomed, the lovers certainly were. While this book, with its string of ghastly murders linked to Barbara Radziwiłł, and its showcasing of Caterina’s solid detective work, remained a well-paced and engaging mystery, it was the impending tragedy looming over the young couple which captivated my attention - the unsaid narrative. All its elements are present as though fate conspired to tear the lovers apart: the rampant scorn and gossip of the court; the attack on Barbara’s life; and the forbidding attitude towards August and Barbara’s relationship from various political parties, not least from the Habsburgs and Queen Bona herself. As it turned out, when the undercurrents of politics could not part the lovers, it was a fateful illness which administered the last blow. </p><p>For cultural immersion, there is much to enjoy about this novel. I loved following Caterina into Vilnius, and delighted in her vivid observations of the court subjects – both their striking character and attire. During Caterina’s visit to a Turkish bath in Vilnius or when she enters the Radziwiłł palace, the evocative writing was highly effective for transporting the reader into the world of 16th century Lithuania.</p><p>P.K. Adams can also be praised for crafting mood, one that is pregnant with danger and gloom. The insidious shadow of death permeates, even beyond the murders that Caterina is called upon to solve in Vilnius. There is first, the memory of the young murderess, Helena Lipińska, who met an unjust fate in the first novel. While her tragic end plagues Caterina with guilt, it is Bona Sforza’s lady-in-waiting, Lucrezia, who seems more affected by it, and whose spiritual decay seems to progress throughout the story. Emerging through Caterina’s investigation, is the foreshadowing of Queen Bona’s future murder and her betrayal by a court subject twelve years later. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-llZO2D0Q8JLBO2f4P9rFo7S9-w99Oz5Ie-NQLW3A9DHokOEjUwhrO9NWsEZKt08U3JSp14-HSTwe2DZIabeJMmGLVae0vQm5z6NyfdmkOkXyRlM6HnK4l0LRMf0GCRYUjr54QhF5cfvo/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="599" data-original-width="486" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-llZO2D0Q8JLBO2f4P9rFo7S9-w99Oz5Ie-NQLW3A9DHokOEjUwhrO9NWsEZKt08U3JSp14-HSTwe2DZIabeJMmGLVae0vQm5z6NyfdmkOkXyRlM6HnK4l0LRMf0GCRYUjr54QhF5cfvo/w520-h640/486px-Jan_Matejko-Poisoning_of_Queen_Bona.jpg" width="520" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Jan Matejko's<i> Poisoning of Queen Bona</i></div><p></p><p>The novel seems to remind the reader of impending and inevitable death, whether spiritual or physical. In this, the author employs a haunting metaphor – Queen Bona had received five desert camels as a gift but kept them in a tight pen in a cold environment where such animals do not thrive. At the beginning of the novel, we learn that two of the camels have perished, leaving only three who appear desperately ill already. After seeing the animals, Caterina makes an allusion to Queen Bona’s unbending will and her denial of the forces of nature: “there is no cheating nature, no taming its laws. In the end, nature always prevails.” Proving her right, at the end of the novel, only two camels remain. Meanwhile Lucrezia is herself more sickly looking than ever, a hint that like the camels, it is only just a matter of time until her soul finally breaks. And last, Queen Bona, as history would have it, could not escape her own murder. </p><p><br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKKdHg4R7aA45NBaJghQg5aE0a12VCj2d9M7rVpvofLwBD7mliUF2CiTJvERDImx8KutGaz1Ag4TAm7yeWlB-pZza2B6owRvyJmvUvKgl8ueId3Rr8id5IhPKfr2uavRFqrSNM4VcA_EP-/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="267" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKKdHg4R7aA45NBaJghQg5aE0a12VCj2d9M7rVpvofLwBD7mliUF2CiTJvERDImx8KutGaz1Ag4TAm7yeWlB-pZza2B6owRvyJmvUvKgl8ueId3Rr8id5IhPKfr2uavRFqrSNM4VcA_EP-/w267-h400/Midnight+Fire.jpg" width="267" /></a></div><p></p><p style="text-align: center;">A highly recommended, satisfying mystery, <i>Midnight Fire</i> is out on 6 October 2020. </p><p><br /></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4332839841587643356.post-76381202620331467952020-06-11T07:22:00.005+10:002020-08-11T22:28:38.572+10:00Le Secret de Chantilly - Antonin Carême et Grimod de la Reynière<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoFe56Ro1vHtugI5_wimEAPYIp5XGNVO-s0wUnqKMw6E9oUJbj9_J969n9D1GmpKSNHzOZs3W2liaLpgf7S1rVsZOYkeCZh3DjPWyoGWn7lYAkW7ukpZ-Ap0VG_jA3xWc2NgHPNduekktV/s1600/Alexandre_Balthazar_Laurent_Grimod_de_La_Reyni%25C3%25A8re.jpg"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoFe56Ro1vHtugI5_wimEAPYIp5XGNVO-s0wUnqKMw6E9oUJbj9_J969n9D1GmpKSNHzOZs3W2liaLpgf7S1rVsZOYkeCZh3DjPWyoGWn7lYAkW7ukpZ-Ap0VG_jA3xWc2NgHPNduekktV/s320/Alexandre_Balthazar_Laurent_Grimod_de_La_Reyni%25C3%25A8re.jpg" width="233" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Alexandre Balthasar Grimod de la Reynière, cet aristocrate mal aimé de ses parents qui au temps de Napoléon, devint le premier critique gastronomique. Il publia des almanachs allant jusqu'à influencer la consommation des bourgeois dans tout l'Empire ainsi que celle des touristes Anglais.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Dans mon livre, <i>Le Secret de Chantilly</i>, il en fait voir bien des couleurs au jeune chef pâtissier, Antonin Carême. Informée par mes recherches, j'ai construit la psychologie de ce critique gourmand souffrant d'une difformité jugée impardonnable aux mains, et qui pour Carême, était bien l'ogre formidable dans son conte de fées imaginé. Même aujourd'hui, il faut le dire, les critiques sont souvent la terreur des artistes. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Je travaille toujours sur la traduction de mon livre en Français, mais je voulais partager ce court extrait qui m'a beaucoup divertie car en l'écrivant, j'ai puisé dans mes expériences. Dans ma vie, je n'ai pas toujours su me défendre et parer la méchanceté quand elle était dirigée vers moi. Même si mon personnage préféré dans <i>Le Secret de Chantilly</i> reste toujours celui de Talleyrand, c'est le comportement de Carême qui reste pour moi plus familier. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Alors allons-y, à l'époque, la rue de la Paix s'appelait rue Napoléon...</div>
<h2 style="text-align: justify;">
</h2>
<div>
<span face="" style="font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif;"><br /></span></div>
<h2 style="text-align: center;">
<span><span face="" style="font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif; font-size: small;">Rue
Napoléon<span></span></span></span></h2>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span><span><span face="" style="font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwVz_I_N9EFU2K77OjliVBUqmi_YEQPDcyjRNeajAVGlLOSWqtTSD3iLpiuHypimg2RP1ex2VCPJVrEZWXXOZoVQz0bBLJhHYSmwr5qdte_9iU4LwCx9XUvoiPOGG9UXYMnqpisX8onNkI/s1600/Careme+shop+front.JPG"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwVz_I_N9EFU2K77OjliVBUqmi_YEQPDcyjRNeajAVGlLOSWqtTSD3iLpiuHypimg2RP1ex2VCPJVrEZWXXOZoVQz0bBLJhHYSmwr5qdte_9iU4LwCx9XUvoiPOGG9UXYMnqpisX8onNkI/s320/Careme+shop+front.JPG" width="227" /></a> </span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span><span><span face="" style="font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span><span><span face="" style="font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span><span face="" style="font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: georgia;">C'était Grimod de la Reynière.</span></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"> « Monsieur Carême, lança-t-il en sortant ce cahier qu'il trainait
partout sur lui. Je dois vous féliciter pour vos croquants aux amandes. Ils sont
exquis. Croustillant à perfection. On ne trouverait pas dans tout Paris de
confiseries plus délicieuses.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"> — Vous devriez essayer le Croquembouche à la Chantilly, monsieur de la
Reynière », j’entonnai, surpris par son manque d'esprit acerbe à cette occasion.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Comme j’étais dupe.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"> « J'ai bien peur d’être un fervent admirateur des pâtisseries de Rouget,
et je n'ai en revanche pas pris grand goût à la votre qui me semble, comment
dire... plutôt lourde.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"> — Lourde ? Ma pâte feuilletée ? Je restai sans voix. « Allons, allons. La vexation est indigne de tout pâtissier. Mais que
vois-je ici ? » Il regarda avec étonnement les meringues que j'avais façonnées.
C'étaient d'élégantes formes pastel disposées en pyramide sur mon comptoir de
marbre – en vert, en rose, et même des meringues violettes. Elles étaient
magnifiques près de ma collection de petits fours.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"> Je le vis inspecter les contours de chaque meringue et je m’en
félicitais. Pour la première fois, je dévoilais ma dernière invention.<b> </b>Je ne m’encombrais plus de cet usage limité
qu’était la cuillère pour former mes meringues. Celle-ci engendrait souvent des
biscuits rocheux, et sans raffinement. Je les canalisais à présent. C'était
révolutionnaire. Les panneaux de glace reflétaient l'ensemble de mon affichage,
produisant un spectacle de lumières et de couleurs. De la Reynière prit des notes
dans son journal. Je souris. J'avais alors oublié ses remarques précédentes sur
ma pâte feuilletée.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"> Je m’aventurai, soucieux de voir ma belle pâtisserie répertoriée dans sa
liste d'établissements recommandés.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"> « Vous préparez une entrée pour votre prochain almanach ? je m’entendis
dire.</span><o:p></o:p></p>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho_rVsKeAyXj-r6DPYqoE5nK61-OjhNCsciFtoiLQFcAkUhZ666WEZXJpXwsa0-O6WOYE31rRuYgtcWlH86K8ToDQvmTQOxMo3qZNtWeMW9vkK7-JIyMalACnZc_X7C91goNlc5g5KYHeZ/s1600/Second+Year+-+2nd+Edition.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="251" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho_rVsKeAyXj-r6DPYqoE5nK61-OjhNCsciFtoiLQFcAkUhZ666WEZXJpXwsa0-O6WOYE31rRuYgtcWlH86K8ToDQvmTQOxMo3qZNtWeMW9vkK7-JIyMalACnZc_X7C91goNlc5g5KYHeZ/s320/Second+Year+-+2nd+Edition.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><span> </span></span>— Il se peut, monsieur Carême. C’est fort possible. Je compile mon
deuxième almanach que je publierai sous peu. Pourriez-vous me livrer une
dizaine de ces meringues pour une prochaine session du Jury Dégustateur ? Mardi
prochain ou peut-être le mardi suivant. Vous devrez effectuer la livraison
avant quatre heures de l'après-midi au 8 avenue des Champs-Élysées. Je verrai
ce que mes invités en pensent. »</span><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE9DvZeDkfJUAUfrNgq4NgD5jbW75WQAVb2gD159vLq4tUIe7I0HTwf86mB79RmHEgDy2g87wa5copODWsFtinFKygvs67iAx9NqDRvciA3aboGNFMArfHtpX2FKDw1UYfACKHyzfUVAwW/s1600/Jury+Degustateur.JPG"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE9DvZeDkfJUAUfrNgq4NgD5jbW75WQAVb2gD159vLq4tUIe7I0HTwf86mB79RmHEgDy2g87wa5copODWsFtinFKygvs67iAx9NqDRvciA3aboGNFMArfHtpX2FKDw1UYfACKHyzfUVAwW/s320/Jury+Degustateur.JPG" width="208" /></a></span></span></div>
<span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span><span style="font-family: georgia;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: georgia;">Il avait prononcé tout cela avec une arrogante attente. Il savait très
bien que je ne pouvais pas refuser, car je serais tout de suite qualifié de désagréable,
et exclu de toute mention dans son almanach. Et tout cela si ma boutique n'était
pas d’abord salie à jamais par ses critiques meurtrières.</span></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"> « Certainement, monsieur De la Reynière. Et aimeriez-vous que je vous
livre un assortiment de petits-fours ? » J'avais perfectionné ma crème aux violettes et pensais que lui et son
jury l'apprécieraient.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"> « Je ne peux pas dire que je m’enthousiasme pour votre pâtisserie, Carême
», répéta-t-il en examinant la boutique et prenant note du décor.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"> À ce moment, je sentis mon ressentiment bouillonner. Je me retrouvais
piégé par un homme qui pouvait facilement ruiner ma réputation avec ses écrits.
Mais je me contenais, luttant pour ne rien révéler de mes sentiments.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"> Mais De la Reynière n’avait pas fini. Soudain, après un long contrôle de
la boutique, il se tourna vers moi avec un regard suspect et, quelque peu
perplexe, il porta le coup final.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"> « Dites-moi, monsieur Carême, comment un garçon comme vous, venu de
rien, arrive-t-il subitement sur la rue Napoléon ? Je trouve ça plutôt étrange.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"> — Comment étrange ? Monsieur de la Reynière, je travaille la pâtisserie
depuis cinq ans. J'ai travaillé six ans avant cela…<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"> — Oui, on me l’apprit. Dans une gargote.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"> — M. Boucher de chez M. de Talleyrand ne m'aurait pas employé s'il ne
m’en jugeait pas digne, rétorquai-je, sentant le sang rougir mes joues.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"> — On voudrait le croire ! »<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"> Il semblait se moquer de moi à chaque mot. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"> « N’allons pas prétendre, monsieur Carême, que monsieur de Talleyrand
n'a rien à voir avec l'investissement dans votre boutique. Vous êtes tout
simplement un jeune homme très chanceux. » <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"> Il me dévisagea avec une insolence insupportable.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"> « Pourtant, je me demande ce qu'un homme de votre milieu pourrait jamais
apporter à une gastronomie vieille de plusieurs centaines d'années et qui
existe depuis des siècles dans des cercles beaucoup plus élevés. Comprenez-vous
le sens de mes paroles ? Ce n'est pas dans une gargote que se fait la
gastronomie.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"> — C'est vrai, mais… j'ai étudié avec de grands pâtissiers, monsieur.
J'ai appris plein… » Ma voix traîna. J'eus l'impression d'étouffer et aucun mot
ne vint. Peut-être que De la Reynière avait raison.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"> Il vit alors que je vacillais et que je n'étais pas fait pour ça. Cette fine
repartie d'esprit en plein débat houleux – c'était son domaine. Il semblait
gagner en confiance à chaque signe de doute qu'il voyait gravé sur mon visage.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"> « Vous savez, monsieur Carême, je me demande encore pourquoi Talleyrand
vous aiderait pour financer cette pâtisserie. C'est assez déroutant. Un homme
comme Talleyrand est à peine connu pour son altruisme. On pourrait penser que
vous étiez le talent que tout Paris dit que vous êtes ! Mais franchement, je ne
le vois pas. »</span><o:p></o:p></p>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4332839841587643356.post-53220046909804870672020-05-20T23:33:00.010+10:002020-08-11T22:11:40.992+10:00Le Secret de Chantilly - Antonin Carême rencontre Boucher<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-d2_QqA7EVIA0_P9JYc9z40nxrC9A8E_VGMOGieo1tYMyrSwFQCDVOuS-BRCjoNDaILPWqayezDyg854I7GznyjN4WVNMNAh55b-D7jPwPlQ4k1Q1e_P0G8sjppVV-ce_Uv_uoDmxkfwa/s1600/Boucher+-+Chantilly.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="605" data-original-width="500" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-d2_QqA7EVIA0_P9JYc9z40nxrC9A8E_VGMOGieo1tYMyrSwFQCDVOuS-BRCjoNDaILPWqayezDyg854I7GznyjN4WVNMNAh55b-D7jPwPlQ4k1Q1e_P0G8sjppVV-ce_Uv_uoDmxkfwa/s320/Boucher+-+Chantilly.jpg" width="264" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Depuis plusieurs jours, je travaille sur la traduction de mon roman, <i>Le Secret de Chantilly</i>. Mi-conte, mi-roman historique, ce livre se base sur la vie du célèbre chef, Antonin Carême et sa relation avec l'énigmatique Talleyrand.<br />
<br />
C'est merveilleux pour moi de voir cette histoire - qui d'ailleurs est bien Française, même si elle a été originalement conçue en anglais - prendre une toute nouvelle forme. Petit à petit, je découvre mes personnages pour la première fois, comme si le fait de leur rendre leur langue maternelle leur redonnait vie.<br />
<br />
L'un de mes personnages préférés, c'est Boucher, le maitre d'hôtel de Talleyrand. Dans ce passage, qui est l'un de mes préférés, Antonin qui a seize ans rencontre Boucher pour la première fois.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Note: Pour l'instant la ponctuation suit les règles de dialogue anglais.</span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs95lbEwf3iw5ecuBRioV6q5czeC_pLGpZqIIJfLdJM7NZ-UUwumGrF-QEUXBT2wPsveMPIldXHz9sq7EveIRP589atJeb0VoieHBvdArj7v8hQex2UJENVfp9nKLL_GAHdVs5wIUh10VD/s1600/line_separator2.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="107" data-original-width="348" height="61" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs95lbEwf3iw5ecuBRioV6q5czeC_pLGpZqIIJfLdJM7NZ-UUwumGrF-QEUXBT2wPsveMPIldXHz9sq7EveIRP589atJeb0VoieHBvdArj7v8hQex2UJENVfp9nKLL_GAHdVs5wIUh10VD/s200/line_separator2.png" width="200" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><div class="MsoNormal"><font face="" size="4">Un après-midi, alors que je me dirigeais chez M. Rose, Avice vint me trouver en disant :</font></div><div class="MsoNormal"><font face="" size="4"> « Antonin, l’un de nos clients les plus estimés voudrait te voir. Il est dehors, près de la diligence. Tu dois aller lui parler tout de suite.</font></div><div class="MsoNormal"><font face="" size="4"> — Maintenant ?</font></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span face="" style="font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif; font-size: large;"> — Oui, oui, dit Avice. Ne lui fais pas attendre. Il représente notre client le plus important. »</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><font face="" size="4"> Je me précipitai hors de Bailly, encore revêtu de mon tablier. Je vis un homme dans la quarantaine avec un visage rond et doux et une perruque poudrée. Je le reconnus pour l’avoir aperçu à plusieurs reprises auparavant, commandant des gâteaux pour des banquets ministériels. </font></div><div class="MsoNormal"><font face="" size="4"> C'était la première fois que j’avais l’occasion d’examiner ses vêtements de près. Sa chemise de lin était d’un tissage exquis, et une cravate blanche épousait son cou avec élégance. Avice n'avait pas menti; l'homme portait des chaussures à boucles et une longue veste mauve satinée. Il sentait la lavande et avait un air soigné comme je n'en avais jamais vu, même parmi les bourgeois qui accourraient régulièrement chez Bailly.</font></div><div class="MsoNormal"><font face="" size="4"> « Monsieur Carême, me dit-il en s'approchant. Vous êtes bien le jeune homme qui livre des pâtisseries au Palais Royal ?</font></div><div class="MsoNormal"><font face="" size="4"> — Oui. Oui, c'est moi. » J'essuyai mes mains sur mon tablier, l'air un peu déplacé. Je n'avais pas la moindre idée qui était cet homme ou ce qu’il voulait. Il semblait revenir d'une autre époque. Les gens portaient-ils encore ces culottes et ces bas de soie ?</font></div><div class="MsoNormal"><font face="" size="4"> « Monsieur Avice me dit que vous vous dirigez vers vos cours de pâtisserie.</font></div><div class="MsoNormal"><font face="" size="4"> — Oui monsieur, c'est sur rue Grange-Batelière.</font></div><div class="MsoNormal"><font face="" size="4"> — Je marcherai avec vous », répondit l'étranger d’une voix aimable.</font></div><div class="MsoNormal"><font face="" size="4"> Ses paroles s’écoulaient agréablement comme s'il fréquentait des nobles ou en était lui-même un des leurs. Mille questions me traversaient la tête en remontant la rue Vivienne.</font></div><div class="MsoNormal"><font face="" size="4"> « J'aime votre travail, monsieur Carême. Il me semble prometteur.</font></div><div class="MsoNormal"><font face="" size="4"> — Merci monsieur ... monsieur ... »</font></div><div class="MsoNormal"><font face="" size="4"> Il avait fait preuve d'un tel effacement, malgré son rang, qu'il ne s'était même pas encore présenté.</font></div><div class="MsoNormal"><font face="" size="4"> « Boucheseiche, répondit-il. Vos pâtisseries – elles sont beaucoup plus légères que dans de nombreux établissements parisiens. Je l'ai tout de suite remarqué. Je dirais que ce sont parmi les meilleurs auxquelles j’ai goûté. Certaines améliorations pourraient être adoptées, certes, mais pour la plupart, je suis très impressionné. Est-ce que vous savez qui je suis ?</font></div><div class="MsoNormal"><font face="" size="4"> — Non, monsieur Boucheseiche.</font></div><div class="MsoNormal"><font face="" size="4"> — Il fut un temps où je dirigeais les cuisines de Louis Joseph de Bourbon, prince de Condé. Oh, c'était il y a des années, bien avant les événements du 14 juillet. Beaucoup de choses ont changé depuis. Le prince ne réside plus dans son château à Chantilly. Il est à présent en Angleterre. Mais pour avoir servi la maison Condé, je suis en quelque sorte le successeur de Vatel. »</font></div><div class="MsoNormal"><font face="" size="4"> Il avait parlé doucement et sans emphase, mais je restais stupéfait par ses paroles, et mon enthousiasme eut raison de moi.</font></div><div class="MsoNormal"><font face="" size="4"> « François Vatel ! J'ai lu beaucoup de choses au sujet de ce maître d'hôtel ! Il a servi Nicolas Foucquet ! C’était un grand chef qui inventa la crème Chantilly. »</font></div><div class="MsoNormal"><font face="" size="4"> Le regard de M. Boucheseiche tomba sur moi. Il semblait m’évaluer et prit un air grave pour un instant. Je retrouvai aussitôt mon calme :</font></div><div class="MsoNormal"><font face="" size="4"> « Je veux dire heu... c'est tellement... intéressant, monsieur Boucheseiche.</font></div><div class="MsoNormal"><font face="" size="4"> — Appelez-moi Boucher. Monsieur Carême, vous vous trompez. Vatel n'a jamais inventé la crème Chantilly.</font></div><div class="MsoNormal"><font face="" size="4"> — Ah bon ? » Je me sentis rougir.</font></div><div class="MsoNormal"><font face="" size="4"> « Mais non. Pas du tout. »</font></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span face="" style="font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif; font-size: large;"> Boucheseiche sourit à son tour. Un silence incommode suivit alors qu'il m'examinait. À quoi pensait-il ? Je devais avoir l'air d'un idiot.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><font face="" size="4"> Il sortit de sa longue réflexion. Ses yeux bleus se posèrent tendrement sur moi :</font></div><div class="MsoNormal"><font face="" size="4"> « Un jour, murmura-t-il, je vous révèlerais peut-être le secret de Chantilly. »</font></div><div class="MsoNormal"><font face="" size="4"> Et avant que je puisse me remettre de cette étrange remarque, Boucheseiche prononça ces mots magiques :</font></div><div class="MsoNormal"><font face="" size="4"> « Seriez-vous intéressé à travailler pour moi, monsieur Carême ? Je supervise des banquets pour une personne d’une haute importance. Le monde que je vous propose de rejoindre est plus grand que tout ce que vous connaissez. Mais… qu’y a-t-il ? Vous ne vous sentez pas bien ? »</font></div><div class="MsoNormal"><font face="" size="4"> Je m’étais arrêté de marcher. Je ne pouvais plus respirer. Je regardais Boucheseiche comme s'il était une vision de rêve.</font></div><div class="MsoNormal"><font face="" size="4"> « Pardonnez-moi, monsieur Boucheseiche.</font></div><div class="MsoNormal"><font face="" size="4"> — Boucher, rappela-t-il.</font></div><div class="MsoNormal"><font face="" size="4"> — Pardonnez-moi, monsieur Boucher. C’est que… je sens que cela ne peut pas m’arriver à moi. C'est presque… presque comme dans les contes de fées. »</font></div><div class="MsoNormal"><font face="" size="4"> Il me contempla en silence avant de dire : </font></div><div class="MsoNormal"><font face="" size="4"> « N'est-ce pas ? » Il reprit de plus belle, « La révolution, monsieur Carême ! Nous vivons à une époque qui évolue si vite. Vous étiez garçon de courses il y a quelques années… Et maintenant ! Maintenant, vous êtes sur rue Vivienne, et on vous mande de venir travailler avec Boucheseiche venu droit de la grande Maison Condé. Oui, vous avez bien raison. C'est semblable un conte de fées. »</font></div><div class="MsoNormal"><font face="" size="4"> Son visage prit alors un aspect mélancolique. </font></div><div class="MsoNormal"><font face="" size="4"> « Et pourtant, souvent, ajouta-t-il sa voix teintée de regret, même les plus beaux contes de fées connaissent une fin tragique. Monsieur Carême, j'étais autrefois à l’emploi d’une princesse qui possédait tout, tout ce que son cœur désirait, et ce qui lui arriva, je prie le ciel, ne frappera jamais même les plus vilains laquais. »</font></div><div class="MsoNormal"><font face="" size="4"> Il se redressa avec autre sourire généreux. </font></div><div class="MsoNormal"><font face="" size="4"> « C'est peut-être un peu trop pour vous aujourd'hui. Je vous laisse réfléchir à mon offre. Je reviendrai un autre jour pour vous parler d'éventuelles conditions d'emploi. Il y a beaucoup à faire et cela va prendre du temps. Nous ne nous presserons pas. Après tout, l'homme que j’ai l’honneur de servir aime bien prendre son temps. Au revoir, monsieur Carême. »</font></div><div class="MsoNormal"><font face="" size="4"> Toujours le soufflé coupé, je regardai le mystérieux Boucher rejoindre sa calèche, alors qu’il me laissait dans tous mes états devant le seuil de chez M. Rose. Mon cœur n'avait jamais battu aussi vite. Je transpirais d’émotion, et pour le reste de l’après-midi, tous mes efforts pour me concentrer sur les leçons de massepain de M. Rose furent en vain.</font></div><div class="MsoNormal"><font face="" size="4"> J’appris le nom de la princesse à laquelle Boucher avait fait allusion. La malheureuse princesse de Lamballe avait été mutilée par une foule violente pendant l'une des périodes les plus sombres de la révolution. Elle qui avait été mariée à l'homme le plus riche de France, du jour au lendemain, sa fortune avait basculé.</font></div><div class="MsoNormal"><font face="" size="4"> C'était ce que Boucher avait essayé de dire. Que la révolution avait tout changé. Tous les tournants du destin étaient possibles.</font></div><div class="MsoNormal"><font face="" size="4"> Pourtant, je n’arrivais toujours pas à comprendre. Comment un garçon de cuisine sorti d’une gargote, près de la barrière du Maine pourrait-il travailler avec un homme comme Boucher qui avait jadis connu une princesse ? Comment pourrait-il être instruit par ce maître d'hôtel qui avait autrefois servi la maison Condé ?</font></div><div class="MsoNormal"><font face="" size="4"> L’arrivée subite de Boucheseiche dans ma vie était comme un rêve devenu réalité. Il apparut devant chez Bailly quand je m'y attendais le moins. Sa première visite fut brève, mais elle me bouleversa pendant des mois. Après avoir livré son message, il disparut aussi soudainement.</font></div><div class="MsoNormal"><font face="" size="4"> Je ne le reverrais que l'année suivante quand il me conseilla de changer de boutique et de travailler avec Gendron. De cette façon, expliqua-t-il, je détiendrai plus de temps libre et je deviendrai pâtissier libéral.</font></div><div class="MsoNormal"><font face="" size="4"> Un pâtissier libéral ! Moi ? Les idées tourbillonnaient dans ma tête à la perspective de cette nouvelle profession.</font></div><div class="MsoNormal"><font face="" size="4"> De nombreux contes de fées ont une marraine dotée de pouvoirs magiques. Cendrillon en avait une. La Belle au Bois Dormant en avait plusieurs. Ces personnes apparaissent quand on s’y attend le moins, agitant leur baguette pour faire des tours de magie. Elles allègent les douleurs et offrent un nouveau lendemain. Elles créent quelque chose à partir d’un rien et vous laissent avec un sentiment d'incrédulité. </font></div><div class="MsoNormal"><font face="" size="4">Comment cela pouvait-il m'arriver ? L’avais-je mérité ?</font></div><div class="MsoNormal"><font face="" size="4"> Après un peu plus d'un an chez Monsieur Bailly, Boucheseiche était devenu mon parrain. Mon conte serait aussi merveilleux que n'importe quel autre. </font></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4332839841587643356.post-88724842849773419412020-02-11T06:50:00.002+10:002020-02-11T07:10:05.214+10:00The Silence of the Pirogue<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilpLrfLrTN6Y3wV1WPl_EuYP_lQTVlCCuPyzlcqFGpCyFrPntZJ2pow6lkjhXiySzPfZBkdOw7iLocXBVk1H6xOwhMyqSojm_ghjIxBLZKALCf5TywBGZF7QDrhl6n9mGsKe54Duces0Vd/s1600/Bougainvillier+Senegal.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="372" data-original-width="450" height="264" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilpLrfLrTN6Y3wV1WPl_EuYP_lQTVlCCuPyzlcqFGpCyFrPntZJ2pow6lkjhXiySzPfZBkdOw7iLocXBVk1H6xOwhMyqSojm_ghjIxBLZKALCf5TywBGZF7QDrhl6n9mGsKe54Duces0Vd/s320/Bougainvillier+Senegal.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
No self-respecting author born in Senegal and with a blog called, <a href="http://teranga-and-sun.blogspot.com/">Teranga and Sun</a>, should omit to pen a novel set in their birth place. I am pleased to have begun a historical crime novel partly set in 1970s and 80s Dakar.<br />
<br />
Western Africa is a such a world apart from the last thirty-four years of my life in Australia. Yet now that I am currently living in France, so close to the place of my birth, the memories of Senegal have flooded back.<br />
<br />
A wonder it is, don't you think, that just as I commence a new life in Brittany in the home of my French ancestors, I find myself drawing from an older life in order to create.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq05PIg7SnONkCGTIhE9vsuMQIET6ALihR8dY3FRudvtfpXIJkSMiZ2QkSmLW6VJzzUsoXiR-8U57flTC5R-nTuK58I-b8EdOakYB5sziRBLE7MdOFGk7Sk2csKOtek8aqk-H_t79JUPSA/s1600/pirogue+dakar.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="373" data-original-width="490" height="303" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq05PIg7SnONkCGTIhE9vsuMQIET6ALihR8dY3FRudvtfpXIJkSMiZ2QkSmLW6VJzzUsoXiR-8U57flTC5R-nTuK58I-b8EdOakYB5sziRBLE7MdOFGk7Sk2csKOtek8aqk-H_t79JUPSA/s400/pirogue+dakar.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
No surprises, given you have read this post's title. My new novel is called <i>The Silence of the Pirogue</i>. A pirogue, in case you are not familiar, is a slender traditional Senegalese fishing boat. It is beautiful and very common along the Atlantic shores. And that's all I'll say!<br />
<br />
I have two other novels in progress, though one is purely at embryonic pen-free stage and its title has not been announced... Hint: it is partly set in a beautiful island and it takes place in 17th century France. D'Artagnan might just make an appearance.<br />
<br />
In the meantime, I am eagerly applying the last beta-feedback edits to <i>The Secret of Chantilly</i>. I have made a decision to query agents and publishers and hope to find a home for it. Wish me luck. I do tend to keep my affairs secret but it is no secret that I aim to get rejected many times this year.<br />
<br />
2020 is off to a good start. After ten years of erring, and wondering-where-to-grow-roots, it is wonderful to not be renting a home anymore. I feel as though the last six years more so have been incredibly intense. I lived a double life. By this I don't only mean that I was split between my corporate job and my writing job, but I also led the other double life; the one where I had a current Australian home and a potential French home, and everything I did and planned was aimed at leaving one and reaching the other. Who else plans, ever secretly, and for that long? Talleyrand perhaps. :)<br />
<br />
Writers need their own quiet place, unburdened by the yoke of the landlord who so often corrupts any good intention one has to write from the heart. And I think artists need their space even more, so they may fill it with pretty things and remain inspired. This year, 2020, is the year I am no longer in transit; I have a place to call my own. I can fill it with books, art and paint the walls any color I wish. What a joy.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4332839841587643356.post-67076139214497477542019-08-22T20:38:00.002+10:002019-08-24T00:32:23.733+10:00Understanding Talleyrand<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwQdUb1Cb_BbUeynXhDax29ojdxEJH3Rb3wrtbbjKHVggTjUyZ0i4aBaq9qklJnZUnPxBxlS8gdAJSnBQaiGS78xj4jinrwVnXEVYR9AP4Zf7HlbetxRczqSTVtWHSkjfXi35NQ9MlAKBS/s1600/Talleyrand+Drawing.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Talleyrand Portrait" border="0" data-original-height="700" data-original-width="645" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwQdUb1Cb_BbUeynXhDax29ojdxEJH3Rb3wrtbbjKHVggTjUyZ0i4aBaq9qklJnZUnPxBxlS8gdAJSnBQaiGS78xj4jinrwVnXEVYR9AP4Zf7HlbetxRczqSTVtWHSkjfXi35NQ9MlAKBS/s400/Talleyrand+Drawing.jpg" title="" width="367" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
This August I lost myself in Volume I of Talleyrand's Memoirs. One passage stood out and moved me to tears.<br />
<br />
Whether are not you are familiar with the 19th century French statesman does not matter; this passage is worth knowing. It is a rare moment into the heart of the enigmatic Talleyrand who for years has baffled so many historians.<br />
<br />
It took place in 1807. By then, as Napoleon's foreign minister, he had long been titled Prince of Benevento and gifted with the principality of Benevento, in southern Italy. He knew how to flatter and reason with the French emperor but there were limits to his influence of which the statesman was well aware.<br />
<br />
In that year, Prussia had just been defeated by Napoleon's army. The Prince of Benevento attended deliberations at Tilsitt; these would decide the fate and treatment of fallen Prussia.<br />
<br />
It so happens that there is another character in this story. It is Queen Louise of Prussia - that is, Louise of Mecklenburg-Strelitz.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1XIFN2umxLUhwUT2fIJthjbTzsNd2dDCmW1FSA70qryxdPUBg7IWrODGr7O17U9FgQeNbd5ggFSUODW61OT6N62CFu4DQ9upYcVxJcFaI3bzoIe-8uG3yV1PHWLDLRRVlYg4CVTlQakQt/s1600/Louise_of_Mecklenburg-Strelitz.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="453" data-original-width="291" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1XIFN2umxLUhwUT2fIJthjbTzsNd2dDCmW1FSA70qryxdPUBg7IWrODGr7O17U9FgQeNbd5ggFSUODW61OT6N62CFu4DQ9upYcVxJcFaI3bzoIe-8uG3yV1PHWLDLRRVlYg4CVTlQakQt/s400/Louise_of_Mecklenburg-Strelitz.png" width="256" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Louise of Prussia</div>
<br />
Queen Louise of Prussia deserves another post to herself. She was to die of a mysterious lung illness three years later, at the age of only 34. Centuries later, at the time of the Nazis, she would be revered as the epitome of all qualities that German women should aspire to. But it is 1807 and in this story, she is thirty-one years old and she is in a quandary.<br />
<br />
Napoleon, famed for his misogyny wasted no time in alluding to the Queen of Prussia's infidelities - a gross slander given the Prussian King and Queen were very happy in their marriage. Meanwhile, Prussia faced potentially harsh economic sanctions after the war; it was up to the King to plead in favor of his country. But seeing that Louise was several months pregnant, he suggested that his wife should instead plead in favor of her people, in the hope that Napoleon, touched by this charming figure of maternity - one of the most beautiful women of the period - would soften somewhat and prove more conciliatory.<br />
<br />
Louise hesitated. Why would she wish to appear before this emperor who had insulted her and placed public doubt on her virtue? She hoped that her husband was right. Perhaps if Napoleon saw first hand how kindly and honorable she truly was, he would retract his poor judgement of her character.<br />
<br />
Recalling the events at Tilsitt, Talleyrand writes, "I was indignant of everything I saw and everything I heard but I was obliged to hide my indignation."<br />
<br />
When she settled into her apartments at Tilsitt, Napoleon paid the Queen a visit. After flattering her beauty while she tried to pass on to other subjects, Napoleon turned to the King and said "How could you dare begin a war with me, I who had already conquered so many powerful nations?" The defeated King made no answer but looked upon Napoleon severely. It was Louise who replied on behalf of her husband. "Sire, it was permitted to the glory of Great Frederick II, to deceive us as to the extent of our powers; we were deceived; but it was so ordained."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRqY55G9h888PWvyDhQzongzwXc42AExvbKvWUQIP6XRU16v8bpUSagPSfrIomHqFqSiVNQ3SZD9V1a1tgmjkNuz7mAeJ8NSIXvnQ7UIjHAsqvIWxeQtebjNCrsXdqkf4pNeTOIPWl-40F/s1600/Louise%252C_Queen_of_Prussia_by_Vigee-Lebrun.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="294" data-original-width="221" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRqY55G9h888PWvyDhQzongzwXc42AExvbKvWUQIP6XRU16v8bpUSagPSfrIomHqFqSiVNQ3SZD9V1a1tgmjkNuz7mAeJ8NSIXvnQ7UIjHAsqvIWxeQtebjNCrsXdqkf4pNeTOIPWl-40F/s1600/Louise%252C_Queen_of_Prussia_by_Vigee-Lebrun.jpg" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Queen Louise of Prussia </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
by Vigée Le Brun, 1801</div>
<br />
Talleyrand writes that Louise's usage of the word 'glory' was, in his mind, fortunately placed. He found it superb. Evidently the word was not used to the glory of Napoleon, but rather to another Prussian king from a past century. Talleyrand, never shy of using wit to taunt Napoleon, reveals that he later repeated the Queen's phrase often times, until the piqued Napoleon told him one day, "I ignore what you find so pleasing about the Queen of Prussia's words; you would do well to speak of other things." Typical.<br />
<br />
But returning to 1807. All the efforts that Louise made to obtain concessions for her country were in vain. Napoleon remained inflexible. Losing half of her territory, Prussia was to enter many years of suffering, famine, and the state of things grew so severe that everywhere, women abandoned their children.<br />
<br />
But it is Talleyrand's next revelation that moved me.<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"I was indignant of everything I saw and everything I heard but I was obliged to hide my indignation. <i>And so all my life, I will remain grateful that the Queen of Prussia, queen of another time, was willing to perceive this.</i>"</blockquote>
<i>Willing to perceive</i> - the phrase Talleyrand chooses is so important. One can readily<i> perceive</i>, that is one thing. But to <i>permit</i> oneself to perceive is, in Talleyrand's eyes, to take a step further. If one <i>permits</i> oneself to see, one is willing to go against one's convictions and to combat one's prejudices (in this case, prejudices against Napoleon's foreign minister; against the vanquishing French; against the enemy etc...) For Talleyrand, to be granted this understanding was a precious thing and he felt grateful for it.<br />
<br />
He narrates the event at Tilsitt and the sentiments they evoked, in these terms,<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"If upon reflecting on my life, many passages are tedious, I recall however with great sweetness the things she had the kindness to tell me, and those she almost confided in me, <i>"Prince of Benevento,"</i> she said, the last time I had the honor of escorting her to her carriage, <i>"there are only two people who regret that I came here: it is me and you. You are not upset, are you, that I shall take this opinion back with me?"</i> The tears of tenderness and pride that I had in my eyes were my only response."</blockquote>
Louise had been unsuccessful in her quest and she knew that Napoleon would not help her country. She also still felt the emperor's insults. With those words, she admitted to Talleyrand, the French foreign minister, that she regretted having come to Tilsitt, and she confided also that she could see right through him: that he did not like what he had witnessed, and that he was filled with sorrow for her, and also wished she had not come at all.<br />
<br />
When I read this passage, I was astounded by Talleyrand's sensitivity to <i>having been understood</i>. It seemed to him that this understanding, arising from another, especially in this extreme post-war moment, was a rare event, one he deemed important enough to feel grateful for.<br />
<br />
But he felt much more than grateful. He was moved by Louise. I absolutely had to write about it and give it the attention it deserved because little or no emotion has ever been reported as having come from Talleyrand.<br />
<br />
When trying to understand a person it is often insightful to know what it is that moves them, or brings tears to their eyes. I noted that during the entirety of Volume I, Talleyrand remains mostly unemotional. He is overwhelmingly cerebral. He displays warmth during only two instances: when he relates his relationship with the unfortunate Spanish princes sequestered at his chateau of Valençay, and when he narrates his encounter with Queen Louise of Prussia. The latter is the only time he mentions tears.<br />
<br />
For Talleyrand, a man of mystery, a man so reserved and elusive that he would often be maligned, nothing would seem so precious than to be perceived kindly despite all appearances. For he was proud, that is certain.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4332839841587643356.post-63401795556622140382019-08-16T15:00:00.000+10:002019-08-18T06:11:21.218+10:00Review: Silent Water by P.K. Adams<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8fW8qyUDjbY9LFGD15Apzf6551dVXIpzNrEzVrcxCYPTC8ur5LN-gP_UaBJVynQdq3c-zVdj2Ola9iIZQ1Tj0gGdafijFUDNFQcUMIuvcyF6v-SpEIaMwowASM55JIJZnzMtMdlvviPze/s1600/silent-water.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="642" data-original-width="428" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8fW8qyUDjbY9LFGD15Apzf6551dVXIpzNrEzVrcxCYPTC8ur5LN-gP_UaBJVynQdq3c-zVdj2Ola9iIZQ1Tj0gGdafijFUDNFQcUMIuvcyF6v-SpEIaMwowASM55JIJZnzMtMdlvviPze/s320/silent-water.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
Set in the depths of winter, during the Polish Golden Age at the time of the Jagiellonian dynasty, <i>Silent Water</i> is a deeply satisfying and engrossing historical mystery.<br />
<br />
Often stellar plots are those that are simple, but richly executed, with penetrating human insights and unforgettable sets. <i>Silent Water </i>falls in this category. The narration is in first person with a tone that often borders on the melancholic, hinting to the tragedies that will soon be revealed.<br />
<br />
Newly arrived in Poland, Contessa Caterina Sanseverino is part of Queen Bona Sforza's entourage. Bringing with her the fashions and social mores of her native Italy, Queen Bona has married King Zygmont I, ruler of Poland and Lithuania.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhteU6zvbcnlX5ZtYWF-ZW4stmwp3SvijAq_t7W1qriIDciGkyb44SbwzKjuLD81mu5XbZNjbDU6HwMD3aUo1RIIx3_J_a66Ulkb59ujxzgsdquafAcTj6U1jGS9rGlD_-sEFOH6AGyEo8D/s1600/Castle+in+Krakow.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="904" data-original-width="948" height="305" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhteU6zvbcnlX5ZtYWF-ZW4stmwp3SvijAq_t7W1qriIDciGkyb44SbwzKjuLD81mu5XbZNjbDU6HwMD3aUo1RIIx3_J_a66Ulkb59ujxzgsdquafAcTj6U1jGS9rGlD_-sEFOH6AGyEo8D/s320/Castle+in+Krakow.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Wawel Royal Palace, Kraków<br />
<br /></div>
Through Caterina's eyes and voice, we are transported to 16th century Kraków in the Wawel Royal Castle. As Lady of the Queen's Chamber, to her falls the overwhelming responsibility of safeguarding the honour and righteousness of the other ladies of the court - ladies of both Italian and Polish origin. Not an easy task when Lucrezia Alifio is an inveterate flirt, Magdalena Górka is no better, and who knows what the flamed-head Helena Lipińska is up to.<br />
<br />
Through Caterina, we learn of the fascinating political climate of the period, and meet wonderfully described characters including the womanising diplomat, Jan Dantyszek. The intrigues at court make for great entertainment and the author has deftly incorporated her knowledge of the culture into the narrative. One highlight for me was the grand sleigh rides or <i>sanna</i>, on the day before New Year's Eve.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5ATcW_KQDBcPLcz7SwmpO5YdYPAbe2hOQiFM4IhBjKf41z3MXoH_vaP9ojq3kWAgxXFUAmT2LWYTOxbZSuI_iFsy1m4v25FRtqyVB-32Z5fp9CxxvtWGnaD9v49_-XpJk1Y9ILlh3w3Pa/s1600/Wasilewski-Weso%25C5%2582a_sanna.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="458" data-original-width="769" height="237" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5ATcW_KQDBcPLcz7SwmpO5YdYPAbe2hOQiFM4IhBjKf41z3MXoH_vaP9ojq3kWAgxXFUAmT2LWYTOxbZSuI_iFsy1m4v25FRtqyVB-32Z5fp9CxxvtWGnaD9v49_-XpJk1Y9ILlh3w3Pa/s400/Wasilewski-Weso%25C5%2582a_sanna.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<i>Sanna</i> by Wasilewski Czesław</div>
<br />
But over the course of feasting and the traditional celebrations that unravel during Christmas, New Year and the Epiphany, one by one, a series of grizzly murders will rock the royal palace. Suspicions fly, political conspiracies are on the rise, gossip is ever rampant, a suspect is arrested, and more and more, Caterina is convinced that the imprisoned suspect is innocent. She has her own ideas.<br />
<br />
A natural sleuth, Caterina finds herself the primary detective in this series of murders that soon reaches its chilling climax with a suspenseful, Gothic sequence. For many readers who may guess the 'who' along the way, the conclusion offers satisfaction around the 'how' and the 'why', while posing new and haunting moral questions. <br />
<br />
The female gaze dominates this novel. It is a gaze imbued with the morality and social concerns of the period. Caterina is an observant woman who misses nothing of her charges' flirtations and social games. At least, she believes she has missed nothing. And that is her tragedy.<br />
<br />
The author vividly paints the Kraków courtiers together with their costumes and clubs; there is mention of Italian artists invited by the Queen, Polish writers and academics, including the now famous physicist, Nicolaus Copernicus.
It was fascinating to learn just how much influence Italian art and architecture had on Poland at the time of Bona Sforza.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirLlmY5sABRDrU9Ux80Pm8SYW9DKeaRv6kAfQr7_vOZyaA2wk0ANpH0DRex0J4R2gmeUKqTwmyc7i44DjKXpwsceHn6PkPNE7bRyuG-6tgxVEBSXe9ytwZBffD2ClTDauBvkDF_F_UK-Jh/s1600/Bona+Sforza.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="251" data-original-width="201" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirLlmY5sABRDrU9Ux80Pm8SYW9DKeaRv6kAfQr7_vOZyaA2wk0ANpH0DRex0J4R2gmeUKqTwmyc7i44DjKXpwsceHn6PkPNE7bRyuG-6tgxVEBSXe9ytwZBffD2ClTDauBvkDF_F_UK-Jh/s1600/Bona+Sforza.jpeg" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Bona Sforza</div>
<br />
The book's portrait of a determined queen was faithful to history. I enjoyed learning about her proposed agricultural reforms and was astounded by her willpower in taking on the remnant Teutonic Order.<br />
<br />
The Jagiellonian dynasty is not as well known as the English Tudors or the French Bourbons. Its first ruler, Władysław II Jagiełło - Duke of Lithuania and King of Poland by marriage - defeated the German Teutonic Knights in the 1410 Battle of Grunwald. It is a pity that there are not many authors with the courage to create stories in this unexplored landscape. We are thankful to P.K. Adams.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiI8Z1fQot76cG-58SxzKoL0RoYiYpBtEDgNGuv4oKdvk6a3pSv2srFGizNRTn7ZDo_hmKStbph9HAx7ZL_zGH1nUR1m9D8vLsPr0wQD9uXSCdzqn7ELMM8H6t6LKAod711Ons_zonbYGY/s1600/Battle+of+Grunwald.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="696" data-original-width="1600" height="275" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiI8Z1fQot76cG-58SxzKoL0RoYiYpBtEDgNGuv4oKdvk6a3pSv2srFGizNRTn7ZDo_hmKStbph9HAx7ZL_zGH1nUR1m9D8vLsPr0wQD9uXSCdzqn7ELMM8H6t6LKAod711Ons_zonbYGY/s640/Battle+of+Grunwald.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Battle of Grunwald by Jan Matejko (1878)</div>
<br />
What is worth noting is that Poland is not just underrepresented in historical fiction; its recent economic growth (it is now the 7th largest economy in the EU) has gone unreported despite it being touted by the World Bank as a new "Golden Age". Personally upon reading <i>Silent Water</i>, I was eager to visit Poland if only to step back in time to that first Golden Age.<br />
<br />
I will be looking forward to that, and to the other two books in this series.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4332839841587643356.post-66121356674152128522019-08-04T13:40:00.001+10:002019-08-22T20:59:56.308+10:00Immigrant Tales: From Prussia to Australia<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi35EgEMgi-FiIpkUhJojX9xsA61eJ4cvnSQ12XdIIUFX8WZvUZK64D0GaocqzVqcFbYTLKWgHePQSWrO5gaIgy1867yFsiCJh_JDrJMKMQt_uWdEl2TqQYO3ymZz37dpsQ2pWLap8d3VXo/s1600/Charles+Dickens.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="702" data-original-width="728" height="308" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi35EgEMgi-FiIpkUhJojX9xsA61eJ4cvnSQ12XdIIUFX8WZvUZK64D0GaocqzVqcFbYTLKWgHePQSWrO5gaIgy1867yFsiCJh_JDrJMKMQt_uWdEl2TqQYO3ymZz37dpsQ2pWLap8d3VXo/s320/Charles+Dickens.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
The Charles Dickens</div>
<br />
It is mid-July 1877. Henriette Krause is at least seven months pregnant when the <i>Charles Dickens</i>, the three-masted steamer that left Hamburg on April 5 arrives near Brisbane. The ship's 510 passengers have now been traveling for three and a half months. They should be rejoicing upon nearing Australia's shores were it not that many are ill, plagued by typhus and measles. The stench is unbearable.<br />
<br />
<div>
Henriette is near tears. The stoic endurance that has carried her through the last months is almost exhausted. She longs for space and fresh air, away from the cramped conditions of the ship. She is tired of having to sleep in a 1,8m by 45 cm space alongside hundreds. Her husband, Gustav, is as ignorant as she is about why they cannot disembark. Surely they have not come all the way from their homeland in East Prussia to be barred from setting foot on Australian soil? </div>
<div>
What is taking so long?<br />
<br />
Soon the rumours circulate. The captain addresses them. They will be sheltered on nearby Peel Island. The health officer has inspected the ship. He has ordered them to be quarantined.<br />
<br /></div>
<div>
It will be seven more weeks until Henriette disembarks in Brisbane. Finally. She is now almost due to give birth. Her bones strain under the weight of her swollen belly. Everything is surreal, here, at the Ipswich Depot where her husband enlists for work. The last five and a half months suddenly overwhelm Henriette and she reaches for her belly, gripping onto Gustav. It all comes back to her. What they have just lived. The unrelenting nausea. The monotony mingled with anxiety. She recalls those long stormy days and nights when the ship moaned dreadfully, while her and her companions were cramped in the damp darkness below deck. Their unwashed clothing, long imbued with sweat, dirt and salt, clung to their bodies giving off an inescapable odor that she would always remember; an odor that invited vermin and illness. Some of their clothes had to be burned at Peel Island because they posed a contamination risk.<br />
<br /></div>
<div>
But then, a ray of light, a dash of hope. Gustav is smiling at her. She hasn't seen him smile for months. He tells her that he has found an employment already. How efficient it all is now that they are finally arrived, here, in Brisbane. He is to go west of Toowoomba with his family where he will work as a labourer. The pay is low but he will be given some land to start anew. Their own land.<br />
<br />
Their own land. It is a dream.<br />
<br /></div>
<div>
Henriette is relieved. It is just as well, she sighs.<br />
Only a week later, she will give birth to the child that has journeyed with her all the way from Hamburg to Australia. It is a healthy boy.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Why would anyone go through this? Why? </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
It is the question I asked myself. I am both relieved and horrified at this amazing feat. The human capacity to endure astounds me.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1ieP9B41AC0M-nMM12-dSd9QugiBZTrPAH0SKv75OZSJICac252m4zufNMaLLCLN_DVaMl-iafJW6TrEcyM_MoR78FdYK5fYXCAwcS9Be4vTK_o5tlYqUzLU2KiFkt-EOY4Z51OBX28Xi/s1600/Krause+genealogy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="1366" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1ieP9B41AC0M-nMM12-dSd9QugiBZTrPAH0SKv75OZSJICac252m4zufNMaLLCLN_DVaMl-iafJW6TrEcyM_MoR78FdYK5fYXCAwcS9Be4vTK_o5tlYqUzLU2KiFkt-EOY4Z51OBX28Xi/s320/Krause+genealogy.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Krause family tree</div>
</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Henriette had several children. The Krause seemed to have kept in touch with the German and Polish immigrant community in Queensland. One of Henriette's sons, Hermann Edward Krause, married Maria Martha Tewes who was herself born of German immigrants.<br />
<br />
In turn their son, Allan Krause - my husband's grandfather - would marry a Polish immigrant. When he died at 65, Allan was a true Aussie. He had enlisted to fight for Australia in WWII and was made a prisoner of the Japanese toward the end of the war. He would be marked by that experience.<br />
<br /></div>
<div>
My husband's father, Peter Krause, is effectively a mix of German and Polish. Like his ancestors, he is not averse to hard labor, honoring land and its produce, much like generations before him have done. His Australian wife is a tough cookie with an amazing open spirit and an endless curiosity. As a child, daughter of a long-distance drover, she rode to school on her large horse every day. Decades later, she has since travelled to China.<br />
<br />
In Tara, in the year my husband was born, the townsfolk are not afraid to confront the tyrannical cops. Even if that means a fighting match. On the night of 19 August 1969, Peter's wife feels the first pangs of labour. But Peter is not home. He has gone off to fight a cop. They send for him urgently; they come running to the ring and tell him to bloody hurry and that his son is being born. He has to get a friend to replace him in the boxing ring. And that's the climate into which Shane Krause makes his first appearance, some time before midnight.<br />
<br />
Peter doesn't know it yet, but that little boy who interrupted his fighting match will grow up to be a screenwriter. </div>
<div>
<br />
In the early years of our relationship, Shane Krause would tell me that his last name was Prussian. By Prussian, he meant 'from the German-Prussian Empire' because Krause is a German name after all and one needs to distinguish the German-ruled Prussian Empire from authentic Old Prussia.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzDCdz_TznPmJ56yfg0wsBM-LFBL3HTeIr9vIA0x-GOrzPE2rMisfXT67GrnnUB19jVcznYQjMwMFhJUklCJHX8kvkT7szGXYyw7a5v2oovZxAxpYKs-HOEP3kQCNXi6frfP4rV8V2Qz2Z/s1600/Old+Prussia.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="277" data-original-width="393" height="281" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzDCdz_TznPmJ56yfg0wsBM-LFBL3HTeIr9vIA0x-GOrzPE2rMisfXT67GrnnUB19jVcznYQjMwMFhJUklCJHX8kvkT7szGXYyw7a5v2oovZxAxpYKs-HOEP3kQCNXi6frfP4rV8V2Qz2Z/s400/Old+Prussia.png" width="400" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Old Prussia and its tribal regions</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
The region of Pomesania (left) is where the Krause family lived.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
At the time they emigrated, it was part of the German-Prussian Empire.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Today it lies in Poland.</div>
<br />
<br />
The Old Prussians were an ancient Baltic people. Fierce pagan tribes, they were likely extinguished by the evangelising medieval Teutonic Knights and, in later centuries, their numbers would have waned under the wave of migration that swept from Germany into Old Prussian land.<br />
<br />
So the last name, Krause, is German. Alas, my wild fantasy of Shane being a direct descendant of some ancient oceanside clan that worshipped pagan deities, and sang deep-throated spiritual melodies like the one in this video, had to be tossed aside.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/dppCZDU7Zjg/0.jpg" frameborder="0" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/dppCZDU7Zjg?feature=player_embedded" width="320"></iframe></div>
<br />
<br />
But my imagination was running wild, fueled by medieval scenes of sword-wielding knights riding from the West into Old Prussia, intent on ridding the land of these detested pagans, with the blessing of the Polish neighbours. I had a vision that perhaps Krause had been the last name of some Teutonic Knight.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdUoSCVrdwU8NzKEmr5WxaxLUHQOCKupPqwYTQhBj-pUaUeAFGavZsFH4DQieGUaWumuxGNQ1OQ2qD9R6GzhUSFRNPMWLm0YHSZB_UL4b4XRpcapkyvkEags6x1GNHQ0LvM48adc9Y16yX/s1600/1-teutonic-knight-07-andrea-mazzocchetti.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="645" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdUoSCVrdwU8NzKEmr5WxaxLUHQOCKupPqwYTQhBj-pUaUeAFGavZsFH4DQieGUaWumuxGNQ1OQ2qD9R6GzhUSFRNPMWLm0YHSZB_UL4b4XRpcapkyvkEags6x1GNHQ0LvM48adc9Y16yX/s320/1-teutonic-knight-07-andrea-mazzocchetti.jpg" width="229" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Teutonic Knight</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
by Andre Mazzocchetti</div>
<br />
Picture this. He was a brutal man with noble convictions and let nothing cross what he believed was an honorable crusade. He was there, for sure, when the Teutonic Order defeated the Old Prussian tribe of the Pomesanians, and when the Monastic State constructed the fortified castle that gave birth to the city of Christburg.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6jmP-1J-V2B5gDnUJLzz7aJgif2sB86GEch9GPTw_xfzf8UDtnMKnQp5HZ696_Ff-TiwUPY625Y3wbL6uq1Lxftv5H3iHtFWlS6dtBh3I7OewTLOWMOemh6bmohawmPz77CW5Ru5WhIVi/s1600/Dzierzgo%25C5%2584-rekonstrukcja-Teutonic-castle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="742" data-original-width="559" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6jmP-1J-V2B5gDnUJLzz7aJgif2sB86GEch9GPTw_xfzf8UDtnMKnQp5HZ696_Ff-TiwUPY625Y3wbL6uq1Lxftv5H3iHtFWlS6dtBh3I7OewTLOWMOemh6bmohawmPz77CW5Ru5WhIVi/s320/Dzierzgo%25C5%2584-rekonstrukcja-Teutonic-castle.jpg" width="241" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Reconstituted Christburg castle, now in ruins</div>
<br />
Oh, it was all so believable and delicious. After all, Gustav Krause who came to Australia in 1877 with his heavily pregnant wife was in fact born in Christburg, today's Dzierzgoń. Surely that was a sign that his family had always been there for centuries? Ever since the time of the knights...<br />
<br />
I pleased myself in this titillating fantasy. The idea that my very own Shane Krause was directly related to a Teutonic Knight was a historical novelist's porn.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXsytmc0DNFUMTZo8itu5KV59JKE_kpvlNe3YwBe5n3eRhrkbWZ6bc2OMREgR7glL2EufXU_48QzLmPzF1gsFFA0dm3fWRO7vE_cHAM_vetKZFlpL4HezaKnxpTQZYKh4cEj_CU9godW57/s1600/%2528Dzierzgo%25C5%2584%2529_1684.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="233" data-original-width="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXsytmc0DNFUMTZo8itu5KV59JKE_kpvlNe3YwBe5n3eRhrkbWZ6bc2OMREgR7glL2EufXU_48QzLmPzF1gsFFA0dm3fWRO7vE_cHAM_vetKZFlpL4HezaKnxpTQZYKh4cEj_CU9godW57/s1600/%2528Dzierzgo%25C5%2584%2529_1684.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Chrisburg</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
Who knows the truth. What is certain, is that some German family, perhaps several families, with the last name, Krause, did migrate to the region at any time between the 13th to the 18th century. Over this period, Christburg would be part of Poland for an extended time, hence the Polish name, Dzierzgoń.<br />
<br />
By the time Gustav Krause was born in 1847, as far as he knew, his city was part the <b>Kingdom of Prussia</b>. In this context, Christburg was part of <i>West Prussia</i>. But by 1871, when the German emperor, Bismarck, ruled and the German Empire was formed with Prussia as its leading state, Christburg eventually became part of <i>East Prussia</i>.<br />
[Note: This is the reason why I found genealogical sources contradictory - some sources assert he was from West Prussia while some say he was born in East Prussia. It's all a matter of politics.]<br />
<br />
And that's where I dug a little deeper and found the reason why Henriette Krause put up with being pregnant for an excruciatingly long journey.<br />
<br />
In his essay on <i>The Prussian-Polish Situation: An Experiment in Assimilation</i>, William I. Thomas delves into Bismarck's policies, and the relationship between the Prussian-Germans and the Prussian-Poles.<br />
<br />
After many centuries of Germans living side by side with Poles, one would expect intermarriage. And that is observable in my husband's ancestors. Gustav Krause is a fine example of this multi-cultural situation. While his father was a Krause, his own mother with a last name of Reikowski, was Polish. Gustav had also wed Henriette Pukallus, also Polish. It is arguable that while the family spoke German, they most likely spoke Polish and felt partly Polish.<br />
<br />
Having established that the family was as Polish as it was German, it really helped to explain why they would wish to leave at this time.<br />
<br />
According to Thomas,<br />
"as long as the peasant felt that the [German] government was friendly to him, he paid little attention to agitators. But in 1873 he was attacked by the government. At this point, Bismarck took a hand and decided to force the process of Germanization. He said he was not afraid of the Polish man, but of the Polish woman. She produced so many children. He undertook the task with apparent confidence, but he was profoundly deceived in his judgment of the peasant. He said that the peasant who had shed his blood so generously for Germany was at heart a true German [alluding to the recent Franco-Polish war]. The fact is, the peasant had been gradually losing sight of the fact that he was a Pole and the policy of Bismarck restored to him that consciousness."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVkphs8O-1p_tPeOPmtrnbD3Qg2XezMtd137LY2QcaCD0cio5GQvbRZ97Q1AfCkzL5P1668IG-eux4Ox2VckhYtxCQgJgvSAEGB9QMUGI988ynO0LjsaLlUrTGvAPbgQe5bO76mU9Ll_Qf/s1600/Otto+von+Bismarck.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="300" data-original-width="224" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVkphs8O-1p_tPeOPmtrnbD3Qg2XezMtd137LY2QcaCD0cio5GQvbRZ97Q1AfCkzL5P1668IG-eux4Ox2VckhYtxCQgJgvSAEGB9QMUGI988ynO0LjsaLlUrTGvAPbgQe5bO76mU9Ll_Qf/s1600/Otto+von+Bismarck.jpg" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Otto von Bismarck</div>
<br />
Despite being part of the most powerful empire in Europe, one that had demonstrated its superior military might by recently defeating the French, Gustav and Henriette Krause were not enthused about their new German ruler, and with reason.<br />
<br />
During the process of Germanisation, the German language became a substitute of the Polish tongue in the schools. Teachers who had no knowledge of Polish were favoured for employment by the education system. According to Thomas, "at this point the peasant knew that the government was his enemy."<br />
<br />
There would be other reforms too, like the systematic purchasing of Polish land by the German government with the intent of settling it with Germans. Construction was also prohibited without a permit, which effectively denied Poles the right to build on newly acquired land, nor build further on the land they already owned.<br />
<br />
It is no coincidence that when in 1877, Gustav and Henriette boarded the Charles Dickens, Henriette's brother, his wife and children - all Prussian Poles - were also on board.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_k-aDsEnsLPSnSvSEnySI8g_Mm6RvOvj0XDfmgwlcXz71ABOHCXRohEY50yGhtcvDlR-m8tdBbsHfkp1c17zjcUhTcSpRN3GK7pXigKymKy6TjYOkrKIzu65nLcluK6D901TMldN6Yq8u/s1600/Ottilie+Ward.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="254" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_k-aDsEnsLPSnSvSEnySI8g_Mm6RvOvj0XDfmgwlcXz71ABOHCXRohEY50yGhtcvDlR-m8tdBbsHfkp1c17zjcUhTcSpRN3GK7pXigKymKy6TjYOkrKIzu65nLcluK6D901TMldN6Yq8u/s320/Ottilie+Ward.jpg" width="203" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Henriette's niece, Ottilie Ward, née Pukallus.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Ottilie Pukallus came to Australia on the Charles Dickens. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
She was then 2 years old.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
They were all Prussian Poles who faced oppression by the German government. As a mixed blood person, Gustav Krause had not one culture, but two. With his Polish background and through his Polish wife's eyes, he could see the Polish perspective and identify with it. He could see the writing on the wall. He would have been supportive of leaving.<br />
<br />
As for Henriette, pregnant or not, she was getting on that ship. If Bismarck had said that the Polish woman produced too many children, then Prussia was no place for a Polish woman to be making babies.<br />
<br />
It was just as well, for in 1907 the German government passed an expropriation act, allowing it to seize any land which the colonisation commission desired but could not purchase. If you were a Pole and refused to sell your land, you were in for a horrid time.<br />
<br />
So there you have it. After much research, my Teutonic and pagan fantasies have now long vanished. In their stead, reality - the tyranny of an imperial government intent on Germanisation; the desperate plight of a German-Polish family dissatisfied with their poor treatment and dreaming of a better world. All these things brought me my husband.<br />
<br />
After all that, Shane Krause has kept his German name and most people do not know how complex his family's story truly is. On the face of it, he is descended from a “German immigrant". And so in a sense, Bismarck has had his way.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1