Literarture, Art & the Aristocracy

So, here's the Pushkin post that got subverted by an animated hippo and a dancing dog. Somewhere the literary gods are shaking their heads in shame. I am not what you would call a fan of Russian literature, it's a bit gloomy for my taste. However, there is one novel that is an exception to that rule: Yvgeny Onegin by Alexander Pushkin. To say that I love this novel would be a gross understatement. I happen to have a few portraits of Pushkin and some of his progeny.

Alexander Pushkin

Natalia Gonchorova Nikolaevna Pushkina, wife of Alexander Pushkin

Countess Natalia Pushkina of Merenberg, daughter of Pushkin.

Countess Anastasia Mikhailovna deTorby, later Lady Zia Wernher,
daughter of the Countess of Merenburg, Grand-daughter of Pushkin.

And so my parting gift today is the final scene from Martha Fiennes brilliant cinematic version of Pushkin's novel, Onegin. To set the scene, Tatyana is a wild-eyed country girl who falls in love with Yvgeny, a young dandy who has inherited the nearby estate. He rejects her because she isn't sophisticated. Heartbroken, Tatyana moves to Moscow, debuts in society and marries into the aristocracy. Onegin and Tatyana meet again and he decides he wants her to be his mistress. Below is the final scene where she rejects him (Three cheers for strong women!). I can't help it, I love it when she asks him if she's noble enough for him now. When you think about when this novel was written, and that it was written by a man, it is pretty amazing that she doesn't swoon into Onegin's arms and surrender to his desires. And that, ladies and jellyspoons, is what makes me wish I had 5 minutes to ask Pushkin a few questions.

Fabulous Friday: Happy Hippo

I had this whole Friday post put together about Alexander Pushkin and then I went to dinner with my dad last night and things took a turn for the silly (like they do).

This song, which is totally infectious, was playing in the restaurant and we were trying to figure out when it was first released. Dad said the 80's and I said the 60's. Turns out we were both wrong, it was first recorded in 1939. Anyway, I ran across this video and Pushkin got pushed aside.

Hope you all have a wonderful weekend!

I wish I had written that . . . continued

"I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each. I do not think they will sing to me."

Hands down one of my favorite poems is T. S. Eliot's The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock. There are numerous times during the year that I am moved to read it again and every time it speaks to the Me who identifies with Prufrock's fears and hopes and longing.

It's a longish poem so I won't torture you with the entire thing. Although, I will say that it is definitely a poem that can be read in portions and is worth the time. Here is one of my favorite stanzas.

And indeed there will be time
For the yellow smoke that slides along the street,
Rubbing its back upon the window-panes;	25
There will be time, there will be time
To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;
There will be time to murder and create,
And time for all the works and days of hands
That lift and drop a question on your plate;	30
Time for you and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
And for a hundred visions and revisions,
Before the taking of a toast and tea.

I wish I had written that.

*image: J.W. Waterhouse, The Mermaid

My weekend with the Dashwoods!

Have I mentioned how much I hate having my picture taken? I guess my cave-woman soul fears it will be snatched away by the evil, magic box. That or I'm just really vain. So, anyway Liz sent me these from my weekend with her family and I figured they weren't too terrible. What's with the creepy guy in the blue shirt over Liz's shoulder? Yikes!

Liz and I have been fast friends since discovering early in our acquaintance that we both dislike Faulkner and Hemmingway. It's a brave thing for a Southern writer to openly admit that she doesn't like Faulkner. As for me, I prefer Eudora Welty.

Here I am with the whole Dashwood crew (plus cousin). It was such a wonderful weekend and I count myself lucky to have such amazing women as my friends.

By the way, Sex & The City was pretty good. Rebecca, Liz and I (first three from the left in the above) had a fabulous time making snarky comments and disapproving 'tsk, tsk' sounds. What was that thing on Sarah Jessica Parker's head?! Some of the outfits defied logic and fashion. There was a bit of gratuitous nudity so definitely not a movie for young children you wish to remain pure of heart. I just avert my gaze until given the all clear by braver souls.

I wish I had written that . . .

Every once in awhile you run across a song or a poem or a story or a piece of art that just grabs hold of your attention. It's different for everyone. Something that I find absolutely amazing is probably boring or cliche to someone else. I say that but, personally, I'm never bored learning new things about other people. We're all so different and yet so much alike. Indisputable proof, in my opinion, that there is a God.

Back in 1998 the movie Practical Magic came out - great movie, better book - and there was this song on the soundtrack that totally captivated me. To this day I can hear that song and feel so . . . in tune. I can't explain it. There's something universal and true in it that speaks to me. Anyway, here is Nowhere and Everywhere by Michelle Lewis. I wish I had written that.

*The image to the left is a leather mask designed for carnival in Venice. I wish I had saved the artist's name, but it definitely ranks as one of those "wish I had made that" treasures.

Fabulous Friday: Portrait Safari II

I've decided to go with a Ladies in Blue theme today. All three of these portraits were painted by the artist de Laszlo. I wasn't able to find much biographical information about them though.

Countess Dénes Széchényi (nee Émilie de Riquet, comtesse de Caraman-Chimay)

Mrs. Elinor Glyn, the original romance novelist. Now we know who to thank/blame.

Lady Alistiar Graham, who reminds me of Shakepeare's Ophelia in this painting.

Reading my sister's blog this morning gave me quite a laugh. She reminisces about our eccentric family and one of my more creative but less practical artistic experiments - the painted sofa.

I hope you all have lovely weekends. I'm off to see the Sex and The City movie this evening.

A Mad Tea Party

`Take some more tea,' the March Hare said to Alice, very earnestly.
`I've had nothing yet,' Alice replied in an offended tone, `so I can't take more.'
`You mean you can't take LESS,' said the Hatter: `it's very easy to take MORE than nothing.'

Mother's Pride has tagged me to show my tea cups.

The first is my day-to-day stoneware mug that is a good size for any warm, soothing drink. Functional but not very interesting.

This is my rose tea cup and I do actually use it. Perhaps I shouldn't but it seems silly to just look at it. It is perfect for a nice cup of Twining's Lady Grey in the morning.

I also drink a lot of Japanese green tea (matcha) and have an assortment of tea cups. The lack of handles means you have to wait patiently for your tea to cool before you can drink it. The cast iron tea pot was made in the Year of the Dog and has a little Shiba, like my Wasabi, on it.

And so I tag Liz, Jennie, Kathi and Jennifer.

"Clean cup! Clean Cup! Move down! Move down!"