#Bertrand Harkness

[too-many-rooks]

I’ve seen bad before

+I hadn’t made the connection between Lamb’s specific; ‘Joe shot in the face in the bathroom because of David Cartwright’ trauma before reading this fantastic fic, so full credit to the author for inspiring this set!

[airvisemarshal]

Mama, I’m chasin’ a ghost I don't know who he is Mama, I'm chasin' a ghost I don't know where he is Mama, I'm chasin' a ghost Do I look

Like him?

closeups under the cut

[loreartisan]

Gonna ramble about the assassin sons of Frank Harkness because I need to organize my thoughts about the sibling patterns.

Spoilers below:

So we have four boys here. They're no teenage mutant ninja turtles, however, they're a bunch of grown messed up European assassins. We have Patrice, Bertrand, River, and Yves.

Patrice gives off the energy of eldest brother who has a lot of pressure from the father, but has managed to cope with those responsibilities and has ended up thriving the most. Bertrand seems like the second oldest, who has the potential to be as good as his older brother, but is way too hotheaded (evidence: he often gets into trouble in the town near Les Arbres) and overconfident (he'd be like the Raphael to Patrice's Leonardo). River reads as second youngest to me, partially because he obviously looks similar to Bertrand and would come after him, but he's slightly more careful and caring. If River was raised by Frank Harkness, I think he'd end up quite similar to Patrice, only River would likely question and complain about their murderous upbringing and motives (I say this because River is way too nice to be an MI5 agent despite being set up by his grandfather, so he's definitely way too nice to be an assassin). And finally Yves, who seems to be the neglected/abused youngest sibling who is super bitter to his father and wants to spite him.

I feel like (if all of these guys were raised together) Patrice and River would get along well as the responsible, competent brothers, while Bertrand and Yves would get along as the troublemaking, carefree duo.

Usually I would think that Yves would be the most estranged and bullied as the youngest (which is kind of why he decided to mess up Frank Harkness' plans with the bombing of Westacres. Less of a 'Oh I don't know if we should take this job' and more of a 'I hate you dad good luck explaining this to our clients'). But since River was whisked away and never got raised by Frank, it seems that if he ended up meeting all his brothers, they would probably unite to bully him.

Ah, I love complicated family shenanigans in stories. 🙂‍↕️ (This is probably why River Cartwright is my fave character in Slow Horses)

[abubblingcandle]

oooh "mangroves"? 👀

So you've actually hit me at a weird time for mangroves because I might be switching the idea so I'm using this as an opportunity to poll the readership.

The concept of mangroves is all grown up child assassin River. I love the idea of taking a person and changing their childhood influences and then seeing them grown and seeing how much that will have impacted them. What would River raised to be an assassin be like compared to River raised to be a spy.

Now unfortunately for me another idea for this has hit me today while thinking about the fic so I don't know which one is better and I should prioritise!

Option 1 - Original mangroves

Jackson Lamb thought he had done his time having to listen to the OB and he never had to associate with the name Cartwright again. But suddenly the OB is sat in his office saying that he needs help extracting an asset out of France. Off the book which means it is perfect for his Slow Horses, Lamb cannot resist having Cartwright in his debt. Leading to the team going in blind to a foreign country and finding a clumsy idiot in a situation way over his head. River Harkness is not quite sure what is going on but has decided that surely the best thing to do is to just go with these people that seem to be kidnapping him but in a friendly way?

Option 2 - New mangroves

River was a child assassin who was returned to MI5 by Frank in the exchange instead of his mother. Frank's intention was to have a spy in MI5 but River much preferred living with his grandad and growing up not having to kill people? In hindsight that was a wild thing for his dad to make him do. Yeah he's a mess and yeah MI5 have stashed him in Slough House so the fact that MI5 make deals with mercenaries who use children doesn't come to light, but he doesn't mind it really. Until Bertrand appears on his doorstep.

[vincentcatagainsttheworld]

#Repost Deborah Harkness FB page Happy Birthday to Matthew Gabriel Philippe Bertrand Sébastien de Clermont. 🍷🎂🎁🎉 Flashback Post- Deb posted this birthday message to Matthew in 2016: “On this day, All Souls Day, around the year 500 AD, a boy named Matthew was born. He lived in difficult times, and tried to die, only to live again. For more than 1500 years, Matthew has struggled with his personal demons and has represented humanity at its best and worst. He is selfish and selfless, capable of bitter hatred and unconditional love, anger and tenderness, passion and prejudice. He is still, after all these years, a work in progress--just as we all are. Matthew shows us that immortality and wealth are not the answers to any of life's problems. Absence and desire, blood and fear--they spellbind us all, and make us act against the better angels of our nature. If you feel so moved, light a candle today in honor not only of Matthew, but of all the generations of your family who lived and died. You are unique and at the same time contain the sum of their experiences and histories. Even a single pinpoint of candlelight in the darkness is a beacon forward into the rest of your life, and the lives of those who will come after. Happy Birthday, Matthew Clairmont. May you live long and continue to teach us about the power of forgiveness, redemption, and change.” -Deb Cat Photo by Simon Ridgway, from season 2 of A Discovery of Witches https://www.instagram.com/p/Ckd73VSIh-a/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[absencesrepetees]

2021 faves

new releases

drive my car + wheel of fortune and fantasy (ryusuke hamaguchi, 2021)

the works and days (c.w. winter & anders edstrom, 2020)

the metamorphosis of birds (catarina vasconcelos, 2020)

zeros and ones (abel ferrara, 2021) / the card counter (paul schrader, 2021)

what do we see when we look at the sky? (alexandre koberidze, 2021)

titane (julia ducournau, 2021) / malignant (james wan, 2021)

khtobtogone (sara sadik, 2021) / baby anger (caroline poggi & jonathan vinel, 2020)

red post on escher street (sion sono, 2020)

ste. anne (rhayne vermette, 2021) / worlds (isaac goes, 2021)

el planeta (amalia ulman, 2021)

her socialist smile (john gianvito, 2020)

the power of the dog (jane campion, 2021)

fou de bassan (yann gonzalez, 2021) / benedetta (paul verhoeven, 2021)

the matrix resurrections (lana wachowski, 2021)

in front of your face + the woman who ran (hong sangsoo, 2020-2021)

the empty man (david prior, 2020) / the night house (david bruckner, 2020)

cliff walkers (zhang yimou, 2021)

love affair(s) (emmanuel mouret, 2020) / undine (christian petzold, 2020) / shithouse (cooper raiff, 2020)

anne at 13,000 ft. (kazik radwanski, 2019) / to the ends of the earth (kiyoshi kurosawa, 2019)

a very long exposure time (chloe galibert-laine, 2020) / last year in dachau (mark rappaport, 2020) / four roads (alice rohrwacher, 2021)

+++ discoveries

jessica forever + our legacy / after school knife fight / martin cries (caroline poggi & jonathan vinel, 2016-2018)

the blackout (abel ferrara, 1997)

top of the lake (jane campion, 2013)

gerry + last days (gus van sant, 2002/2005)

tiresia + where the boys are (bertrand bonello, 2003/2009)

120 beats per minute (robin campillo, 2017)

time and tide (tsui hark, 2000)

daniel (marine atlan, 2018)

revenge (coralie fargeat, 2017)

romancing in thin air (johnnie to, 2012)

claire dolan (lodge kerrigan, 1998) 

workers for the good lord (jean-claude brisseau, 2000)

scream 3 (wes craven, 2000)

crossing delancey (joan micklin silver, 1988)

film socialisme (jean-luc godard, 2010)

the tulse luper suitcases, part 1: the moab story (peter greenaway, 2003)

ravenous (antonia bird, 1999)

gonin (takashi ishii, 1995)

jfk (oliver stone, 1991)

speed (jan de bont, 1994)

contact (robert zemeckis, 1997)

meeting the man: james baldwin in paris (terence dixon, 1971)

platform (jia zhangke, 2000)

all the real girls (david gordon green, 2003)

cape fear (martin scorsese, 1991)

complete list: https://boxd.it/ev8ok

[arcane-memories]

SIR BERTRAND MACGUFFINGHAM?

STUPID IDIOT MOTHERFUCKING BERTIE GOD DAMN FOOL PAPOOSE WEARING DUST EATING RAT OLD BASTARD SHITHEAD IDIOT DEPTOR OF HARKNESS, HARKNESS, DARKNESS & WHORE BIGGEST CLOWN IN THE CIRCUS LAUGHED OUT OF TOWN COWBOY MOTHERFUCKING BERTRAND MACGUFFINGHAM

STOP PINNING ME WHEN I TALK ABOUT BERTIE I HATE HIM SO MUCH WHY DOES HE HAVE SO MANY FUCKED UP PERCEPTION ROLLS WHY DID HE DECIDE TO FUCK AROUND AND EVEN ATTEMPT TO ROLL IS HE DEAD IS HE A BASTARD MAN HAS SUCH A VISCERAL AFFECT ON ME NOT EVEN IN THE ROOM NEVER SEEN THIS MANS FACE AND I KNOW HE HAS THE WORLDS SHITTIEST BEARD GET AWAY FROM ME

if i went to the burning poo dimension and the gnome lawyers said bertie is waiting inside i would piss on their feet for the sole purpose of getting sent even deeper down

if i have to deal with sir bertrand macguffingham speaking one word in person on voice in podcast not only will i close the tab i will delete my bookmark out of spite and have to rewatch the entire series again for the experience of being able to skip all the times when he is mentioned or alive

i dont even know why i hate him so much. he bisects people but i am just mad because i am angy

he better have some fucked up backstory to explain this if hes just some rich shithead whos a fan of yeeting creatures and wanted the irl version ill go ham

BETTER have had his curse make him kill a man cuz if he didnt Im going to make him

paypal.com/IFuckingHateBertie

episode’s not even about him. vaguely mentioned what is supposed to maybe be his part in a museum and I lost it

where the fuck is bertie if hes still alive im going to, so deeply, wish he wasnt

crusty old man

ill punch bertie and his sad frail old man twig bones will simply flake apart under my epic huge meat fist and he will disintegrate until all thats left is one final contract page he kept on him at all times simply titled Now You Fucked Up in ancient yiddish

im not breathing im hyperventilating at this point

i hope theres a date given for when bertie died or will die so i can make it a reminder on my phone

everyday once a year i will see it and do anything but pay respects to the man who had so many fucked up encounters with furniture

[mametupa]

Miriam Shephard

The name Miriam is of Hebrew origin, with various meanings—either "wished for child" or perhaps "rebellious." Date of birth is unknown as is date of rebirth. She is around five feet tall, petite and fine-boned. She is strikingly beautiful, with long wavy hair and a dark complexion. Her sense of style is as individual, strong, and clear as the woman herself. Miriam prefers short skirts, cowboy boots, and expressive T-shirts. They suit her diminutive frame and large personality.

Miriam Shephard is Matthew de Clermont's close research colleague and friend. She is an ancient vampire with a shadowed past. In contrast to most vampires, she is honest to a fault and speaks her mind without seeming to fear the consequences. She is ferociously loyal to Matthew without being in the least bit cowed by him or his lofty position within the world of vampires. Unlike many of her kind, Miriam is completely comfortable with what she is: a predator. She makes no apologies for it, proud to have survived in situations that would have felled a lesser creature. Creatures, no matter who they are, need to earn her respect. Once they do, Miriam is an unshakable ally and friend.

Miriam is of North African and Semitic descent and was living in the Holy Land when the Christian Crusaders arrived at the end of the eleventh century. She was already more than a thousand years old but had not yet mated. She fell in love and mated with a French vampire named Bertrand, who was Matthew's closest friend. After they'd been together for a relatively brief time, Bertrand sacrificed his life to save Matthew and the de Clermonts. 

Below some book spoilers, so if you don’t want to get spoiled, don’t read:)

Following Eleanor St. Leger's death, Eleanor's family demanded justice. Bertrand took the blame to ensure that Matthew, the Knights of Lazarus's grand master, would not be harmed. Bertrand was beheaded by a Saracen executioner, and before he died, he made Miriam promise to watch over his friend. That Miriam does so to this day, shielding Matthew from harm and watching him like a hawk, is a testament to her loyalty and strength. Miriam has not mated again and can't seem to find anyone to live up to her deceased husband and mate.

To better watch over Matthew, Miriam has been sharing his work life for the past two hundred years. The holder of several advanced degrees in chemistry and biology, Miriam is an invaluable member of Matthew's research team. Her probity and command of details are second to none, both assets when working with complicated data sets and contradictory laboratory results. Miriam occupies the important role of Matthew's laboratory manager, making sure that the team stays on task and that work continues in an organized and timely fashion. She is an exacting taskmistress and a bit of a workaholic. 

She is one of the rare creatures who tells Matthew the truth, even when she knows he won't listen to it. When not working, Miriam enjoys solving crossword and Sudoku puzzles and watching film noir. Sometimes, when bored, she gets a kick out of frightening humans by telling them what vampires are really like.

She is godmother to Rebecca Bishop-Clairmont and keeps in touch with her last link to her mate, Bertrand's son Jason.

The World of All Souls, the Complete guide to A Discovery of Witches, Shadow of Night and the Book of Life, Deborah Harkness

[too-many-rooks]

What's the deal with Patrice?

Patrice is such an intriguing but enigmatic character in season four the show; I ended the season pretty fascinated by him (and how he fits into a certain type *cough* Yassen *cough*) so flocked to the books for more details. In ‘Spook Street’, he's one of our POV characters, so we get a much more internal perspective of his thinking, his character, and his history at Les Arbes.

So I've collated some quotes from the book that I think shine an interesting light on him, for general information, and as a fic writing resource.(please please write fic about patrice pls pls pls)

Under the cut are some book spoilers from 'Spook Street'. I've not yet read past this book, so there are no further book spoilers, and nothing here spoils major plot points that you won't already know if you've seen season four, though I highly recommend the books!

This is broken down into sections about...

His relationship with his mother and his father (Who is not Frank in the book,)

His attachment to Bertrand, (And how that connects to his interactions with River,)

His general character traits,

His indoctrination and relationship with Frank.

General Character traits.

One of the things that particularly struck me about Patrice, is how normal he's described as being, at least on the surface. He is careful, measured, and rational. He's clearly very good at what he does, but doesn't seem to derive too much pride from his skills, he wants to complete his targets, report his successes, and move on.

Starting with a more generalised collection of quotes, these passages give insight into his thought process, perspective, and relationship to his work and general character.

In pretty stark contrast to River, who spends most of his time flailing about without a clue what's going on, especially during his time in France -

'He knew precisely where he was-wouldn't dream of setting foot on hostile land without memorising routes-' p.223

His connection to his cold body, Paul Wayne, is something ingrained in him from his earliest memory; Paul doesn't seem to be a persona or someone with a notably different character and behaviour; Paul both is and isn't Patrice. Also, he can speak without a French accent.

“None of which was news to Patrice. Who wasn’t Patrice today, but that was hardly news either. His passport proclaimed him Paul Wayne, and this required no mental adjustment: Patrice had been Paul Wayne for as long as he could remember. And Paul Wayne was as much at home in London, even the bad parts, as anywhere in France; could order a drink either side of the river, and nobody would bat an eye. Because Paul Wayne didn’t just speak English, he spoke English English, the same way he spoke French French. He’d have tied Henry Higgins in knots, and if that wasn’t enough to piss Higgins off, Paul Wayne could have gone on to kill him with his bare hands in about fourteen different ways, because that, too, had been part of the training that had been taking place every moment of Patrice’s life. Patrice’s life was about being Paul Wayne. And today Paul Wayne was taking one Sam Chapman off the board.” p.279

In a fight, he's able to keep his head, and stay focused on the facts. In the garage when he's trying to kill Sam, he manages to take down -

“Two of them, and both down. It had taken seconds. There was no pride in the thought. He was simply monitoring the situation.” p.306

We see again his calm, unemotional response to combat during his attack on Slough House.

“He sensed that the woman’s gun was empty, because there was fear in her eyes, and she did not look like someone who would be scared holding a loaded gun. Microseconds, these thoughts took. Less. It was part of what he’d learned at Les Arbres, in its woods and in its cellars; that you measured a situation in the moment you became part of it, and that what you did next was less action than response—you became part of the inevitable: that was what he had been taught. What would happen next was fixed from the moment he’d kicked the door down. All that remained was for the bodies to hit the floor.” p.455

Natasha and Yevgeny.

In the book, the woman from Les Arbes that River meets, Natasha, is a bit different. Instead of Bertrand's mother, she's Patrice's. Similarly, Natasha was a local girl, who was impregnated when she was around 18, by an older man from Les Arbes, though in the books he's a character called Yevgeny. Deviating from the show, Natasha doesn't seem to have any particularly negative feelings toward Yevgeny, though she recognises their age gap, and how constricted her life would be if she stayed with him.

Yevgeny is Russian, 'of course', (p.256), a former KGB spy who had worked at the Russian embassy in London. (p.320). In his interrogation, Frank mentions a KGB member 'who specialised in what Harkness called mental calibration.' (p.495) It's unclear exactly what this means, but seems to suggest Yevgeny played a pretty central role in forming the minds of their home-grown assassins.

Natasha and Yevgeny meet in a bar, in the summer of 1990, and she eventually becomes pregnant.

'"My parents are very angry with me, and with Yevgeny too. He was much older than me. In his thirties." "And how did he react?" Her eyes became faraway again. "He is happy. He say he will be good father, and we will live happily ever after."' p.257.

Aware that this version of a happily ever after constricts her world to the two bridges that mark her village, and the next one along the river, Natasha feels constrained. She wants to go to Paris, wants to see the world - but doesn't seem to want to leave Yevgeny, instead, she wants -

'"Yevgeny to take me away. Not keep me here." "Did you have the baby?" "Yes. A boy, Patrice. And he does what babies do, which is cry a lot, and I was just eighteen... So one night... I leave the house with some money I have saved and I catch a train to Paris, which is how I get to see parts of the world which are not between these two bridges."' p.258.

During this time in Paris, she became a prostitute. She comes back to the area, after ten years or so, because her father has died and she's able to come back.

'“All that time Yevgeny has [Patrice], at Les Arbres. My parents never see him, my father because he does not want to, and my mother because my father. But Yevgeny sends her photographs. I have these pictures still. I will show them to you.” “I went there, of course. To Les Arbres. But they do not let me in. Yevgeny, he comes out. He tells me I am not welcome, that I am no longer Patrice’s mother. That he has a family, and does not need me.” “I’m sorry,” River said. “I too. Because I know he is right, I am not Patrice’s mother. I give him birth, that is all. But still, I want to see him, I demand to see him, and then Frank comes, and Frank, he is very clear, very direct. He tells me that unless I leave, he will have police arrest me. He will tell them that not only am I a prostitute but a drug addict also, and other things like that. Threats.”' p.260.

Yevgeny sends Patrice's grandmother pictures of him until she dies when he is ten. This is the last photo she has of her son, and the last time she has seen him, but she seems keen to be reunited.

‘“If you find my son,” she said, “you will tell me, yes? You will tell me where he is?” River lied to her, as sincerely as he knew how.’ (p.265).

Later, after being taken captive by him, River mentions both of his parents to try and sway or disrupt Patrice.

During the initial assault on the convoy, when he's about to shoot Flyte, River repeatedly calls him by his name, and tells him "It's not what Yevgeny would want." (p.359.) This is enough to make Patrice pause, not shoot Flyte, and question who this guy is.

River gets kidnapped, and him and Patrice have a weird date (which we will go into in more detail about below), and as he's taking him to Frank, River goes for another attempt at using his family to throw him off.

'“I met your mother today,” he said. “Natasha.” Patrice said nothing. “She misses you.” Patrice shook his head, but still said nothing. “She wants to know you’re all right. It worried her, when Les Arbres burned down. Any mother would worry.” “I have no mother.” “She didn’t abandon you, you know. Or at least—she came back. She wanted to see you, to be with you. They wouldn’t let her.” “I have no mother,” Patrice repeated. “She was there for years. Never far away. In case you needed her.” Patrice looked at him and said, “Those things never happened. Stop talking.” “I will if you want. But I don’t think you do.” As casually as if he were swatting a fly, Patrice reached out to slap River’s cheek, but River had been expecting this, or something like it, and blocked the blow. But not the second, which was aimed at his throat. Patrice pulled it at the last second, or River would have been laid out on the pavement. Patrice said, “Stop now. Or I’ll make you.”' (p.406)

From this, we can understand that any mention of his mother wanting to be re-united was kept from him. His insistence that he has no mother, seems to suggest he was told nothing about her at all, other than that she abandoned him, not even Frank's story of her being a drug-addicted prostitute.

Patrice is unwilling, or unable, to consider that his mother was so close all that time, and still wants to see him and cares about him. He defaults to violence to make River stop voicing these challenging ideas.

His connection with Yevgeny is less clear, but what we hear of him is interesting. His wanting, and being excited for a child, which might have been him fulfilling Frank's orders, keeping Natasha away after she abandoned them, again fits with Frank's wishes to keep the mothers away, but possibly reflects a genuine sense of betrayal, and belief that he is giving Patrice all the family that he needs.

And the pictures; taking a picture of his son every year to send to a woman he doesn't see, who doesn't approve of him, but who is also so clearly in her husbands's control that she wouldn't be in much of a position to kick up a fuss about it if he didn't, creating a potential security risk in circulating evidence of them all together, of the children all together, it's a hell of a thing to do. It introduces this really compelling nuance about how much, if at all, the men at Les Arbes loved their children.

Bertrand

In the pictures Yevgeny sends Patrice's grandmother, sometimes he is in the company of the other children raised at Les Arbes. The book tells us -

“The eldest two, they were at Les Arbres from the beginning. I do not remember their names. And here,” and she plucked a photo from the pile of her son at five or so, with another boy, slightly younger, “this is Patrice with Bertrand. Bertrand is Frank’s son.” “There are six or seven children in the end. All boys. The first two, and then Patrice and Bertrand and two or three more.” p.261

This seems to suggest Patrice and Bertrand were born at a similar time, and possibly constitute their own age group separate from the older two, and younger two(or three).

It's clear that Patrice and Bertrand were close, and he's upset about the likelihood of him being killed, and the possibility of him being taken captive by Mi5, but he can rationalise his death, based on the mistakes he had made. He feels his emotions, expresses them, and then moves on.

'Patrice loved Bertrand like a brother, but facts were facts; Bertrand had been known to falter at critical moments.' p.223 'Squirting cleanser onto the wind-screen, he watched as the wipers smeared the seagull's mess into a grey film. Another clean-up job that made things worse. Then he cried, very briefly, for Bertrand, who was probably dead; squirted more cleanser, and ran the wipers again.' p.225

When River comes back to London using the Adam Lockhead passport, unlike in the show, in the book Patrice thinks it might be Bertrand; here his connection to Bertrand, being the only emotional connection he has left, is displayed again.

"Attachments were encouraged only because without them, there was nothing to purge. Bertrand, though, had been the attachment Patrice had never purged himself of. If Bertrand was alive they could complete this mission together and get the fuck off this godforsaken island.” p.350

Re-uniting with, or freeing Bertrand, finishing their mission, and leaving the country is therefore a top priority.

“Life at Les Arbres had taught him to grasp what needed doing, which here meant reaching St. Pancras before the action moved on. If Bertrand’s passport was flagged, there’d be security waiting. And of all the things that couldn’t be allowed to happen, Bertrand falling into the hands of MI5 ranked way up high.” p.351

Attacking the convoy and discovering the prisoner MI5 have isn't Bertrand, is evidently an upsetting experience for him.

“Because he wasn’t Bertrand, but in that first moment, Patrice thought he was: they had the same features, almost; the same hair. Eyes. Something was going on; crawling under the skin, like a worm inside an apple.” p.350

“Who are you?” Patrice repeated. “Adam Lockhead,” River said. The name cut a groove through Patrice’s expression. “No. Where’s Bertrand? And why . . . ” p.360

And thus kicks off Patrice and River's weird little kidnapping date, a sequence that is significantly longer and juicier in the book than being shoved in the back of a stolen car.

River

River and Patrice have a really interesting dynamic. They're both clearly fascinated by the other, and want to know what's going on. Patrice has technically kidnapped him, and is threatening and hurting him, but River's not exactly trying too hard to run away.

During the attack on the convoy, Patrice tells him they will be leaving together.

'Patrice spoke so calmly he might have been choosing fruit. “We. You and me. Or I’ll kill you here.”' p.361,

River tries to punch him, but he's not totally opposed to the idea -

‘Last thing he was doing was leaving Patrice’s side; not until he’d had a chance to question him about Les Arbres, about the commune, and about why Patrice’s comrade-in-arms had come to kill the O.B.’ p.387 “Not quite a prisoner, then, though hardly an accomplice, he stayed by Patrice’s side." p.387

The two travel by tube, where phone connection means any news about the attack on Pentonville Road would travel slowly, and anyone who thinks they might recognise them easily dismisses it. Also, Patrice pretends to be River's boyfriend.

“Patrice stayed close; one hand on River’s shoulder, as if for balance.” p.387

“Patrice hit him so quickly that nobody saw: not the passers by, hurrying through the rain; not the fellow travellers still sheltering from the downpour. Certainly not River. First he knew about it was, Patrice was lowering him into a sitting position, murmuring calm words. “He’s okay.” This for the benefit of those nearby. “He gets claustrophobic, that’s all.” To River: “Maybe put your head between your knees?” Somebody said, “Are you sure he’s all right? Should we get help? “He’ll be fine. I’m always telling him, we should take taxis. But no, he insists on the underground, and here we are again.” “My boyfriend’s just the same.” Any other time River might have protested the emphasis on My, but at the moment he was coping with a lot of frazzled nerve ends, as if Patrice had laid into him with a cattle prod rather than his little finger, or whatever it was he’d used to do whatever it was he’d done.” p.389 “Patrice maintained the fiction established for them by sitting next to River and putting his arm round his shoulders. He leaned close, as if whispering sweet consolation, and reminded River: “That required no effort on my part.” River said, “Last time someone hurt me like that . . . ” He paused for breath. “Yes?” “I knocked half his brains out with a length of lead pipe.” Patrice made a show of looking here, there, in front, behind. “Don’t see any lead pipe.” “You won’t.” Patrice’s phone chirruped. “Do you mind? I really ought to take this.” He stood and walked a few paces off. River looked around for a length of lead pipe, but his heart wasn’t in it.” p.389

Patrice and River's weird dates continues on to his meeting with Frank, River leading the way when he knows the destination, on a boat painted to resemble dazzle boats from the first world war.

“Patrice said, “That’s something.” River, as if explaining an object of national pride to a tourist, said, “They were painted like that to confuse submarines. It made it harder to sink them, to pinpoint them as targets.” “And that worked?” “Well, this one’s still here.” p.404

Meeting with Frank, Patrice gets some kisses and a pep talk we don't hear, then comes back to say goodbye to River and tell him how they ought to do this again sometime, and melts away into the rain to go murder all his friends & and his Grandpa.

“Patrice paused, then leaned forward, hands in pockets, and kissed River on the cheek. One cheek only. He said, “We will speak again soon.” Then he walked back the way they’d come; just a man hurrying through the rain, eager for the next place of shelter.” p.409

Frank

Patrice's most notable moments of internal fucked-up-edness come from when he's reflecting on his past, his education at Les Arbes, and his connection with Frank. His loyalty is unshakeable and goes as far as hurting himself when he thinks critically about him.

What we learn about a childhood (or the absence of one) at Les Arbes, is also very notable.

Like Patrice, like Bertrand, like all of them, Yves had had his childhood removed even while it was happening, and replaced by qualities Frank favoured: obedience to him, and reliance on no other. p.350

We can see this focus on total obedience to Frank being ingrained very early on, with orders, or 'instructions', being performed without question.

“And an instruction from Frank, who had been giving him instructions since he was a toddler, and who had ensured, way back then, that there was no question of Patrice not carrying them out.” p.428

And then there's the cellar.

“For one brief moment, he remembered the cellar. Each of the boys, on their twelfth birthday, had been locked in a cellar at Les Arbres, with no natural light and just one candle. Every morning, a single bread roll and a beaker of water was delivered. And every morning, they were told they would be released as soon as they asked for their freedom. Bertrand, Patrice remembered, had lasted just seventeen days before asking to be released. Patrice remembered Frank’s look of disdain at his son’s reappearance, as if it were an act of cowardice, or betrayal. Patrice himself had lasted a full month: at the time, a new record. Yves had lasted two.” (434)

I'm fascinated by the cellar. I'm fascinated by how long a boy is supposed to stay in the cellar. Bertrand, at seventeen days, clearly does not last long enough. Before Yves, no one had done better than Patrice's record of a month.

(Also, a brief note bc I spent too long fretting over it when I was writing my fic but; just one candle? How are they meant to light the candle? Is there a way to start a fire in the basement? Do they need to ask? Is asking for light also a reflection of weakness?)

From this passage, we can infer quite a lot about these three boys. Bertrand, who had been 'known to falter', does poorly, with his seventeen days, and Frank is clearly very disappointed in him.

(Diversion again bc I'm curious if this sets a trend for the rest of their relationship, where in conversation with River later on, he's able to discuss his son's death very unpersonally, their connection being as vague as "Someone he shared a lift with once," being dissapointed that he'd managed to let the an old man get the best of him, "It's like, lesson one. Don't let your guard down just because the target appears harmless." p.410 He tells River he's 'screaming inside', and hurting over Bertrand's death, but needs to focus on the mission, and that mission having pivoted recruiting River, is also cracking jokes about doing his whole 'I am your father' speech in a Darth Vader voice. (p.425, p.410)

Back to the cellar and Les Arbes. Patrice sets a record; lasting a whole month is evidently seen as an achievement, and doesn't seem to earn any of the scorn and disappointment Bertrand does.

Yves two months, though, is apparently somewhat alarming - from the books we learn that Yves was basically too into everything at Les Arbes, and took his terrorist training too literally, too extremely. Natasha is unnerved by her memories of him, and singles him out from the others as being creepy, looking at people 'like they are a different species... Like they are insects, or worse. Lower than insects.' p.264

We see Patrice's opinion of Yves carried on in this extract, when he talks about on his seventh birthday, being handed a photo of his mother who he'd never met, staring at it for five minutes, and then being handed a box of matches by Frank, and burning it with no hesitation, and 'glee in his eyes.'

"Patrice had been frightened of Yves, a little. He sometimes wondered if Frank had been too." p.350

Reflecting on their time in the cellar, Patrice briefly thinks about how...

“Frank should have known that there would come a time when Yves’s desire to prove he could go further than any of them would see him step over each and every line there was.” p.435

This thought, that a child-soldier radicalised from birth and pushed to the edge in every conceivable way, might end up going a bit far, and the all-knowing figure of total obedience in their life should have realised that, requires instant self-inflicted punishment from Patrice.

“But this thought, that Frank should have known, demanded punishment, and Patrice submitted to the moment, lashing out at the pebble-dashed wall, then licking the resulting blood from his knuckles. He had deserved that. Nobody could have known where Yves’s demons would take him. It was this place that was breeding such ideas: rainy London, its blues and greys seeping into his soul. Well, Patrice wouldn’t be here much longer. This last task done, he and Frank could vanish back to the mainland: Les Arbres was smoke and ashes, but they’d find somewhere. And the others would return—except for Bertrand, of course; except for Yves—and life would start again.”

Here, we have this moment of self-flagellation for thinking critically about Frank, which seems so instinctual I have to believe it's another thing drummed into them from an early age, also backed up by Patrice hurting himself again during his assault on Slough House -

“Deliberately, he banged his head against the wall, twice. Clarity of a kind returned.” p.450

In addition, we also see how Patrice can rationalise Frank's failures as not his fault. It wasn't Les Arbes that corrupted Yves, but London, and being in London was corrupting him too. He can't escape with Bertrand, and the only home he's known is gone, but he wants to reunite with the others and have his life start again.

But we all know that never happens.

[dustedmagazine]

L’Epee — Diabolique (A Recordings)

Photo by Richard Dumas

Working to “Dig!’ himself out from beneath the weight of public perceptions after Ondi Timoner’s 2004 documentary about the rivalry between The Brian Jonestown Massacre and The Dandy Warhols, Anton Newcombe relocated to Berlin, opened a studio and label and has been prolific in recording, producing and releasing his own and other peoples’ music.  

On Diabolique, Newcombe joins forces with actor/singer Emmanuelle Seigner and French husband and wife garage rockers The Limiñanas, that’s multi-instrumentalist Lionel and drummer Marie, as L’Epee to present a hazy mash of “Venus in Furs” Velvet Underground, late 1960s sitar psychedelia and Gallic garage.  The quartet have worked together before in various combinations and their chemistry is evident throughout the record as is their joint love of classic proto-punk, French underground pop and Morricone.

Not for Seigner the cliché of the breathy French ingénue; singing in French and English, she brings a world-weary insouciance perfectly in tune with the narcotic fuzz of the music. Her tone and mood harks back to her 2007 collaboration with VU influenced French duo, Ultra Orange on which she gave full reign to her professed love for the Stooges, Lou Reed and contemporaries like Mazzy Star.  

Her duet with Bertrand Belin “On Dansait Avec Elle” based on a slowed down ye-ye rhythm works so well because although it brings Gainsbourg to mind, it subverts roles, with Seigner as the knowing lead and Belin following pained and hang dog in her wake. More Charlotte than Serge. Elsewhere there is the motorik drive of “La Brigade des Maléfices” and “Ghost Rider” and the disembodied pop of “Springfield 61” complete with a “La La La” chorus, church bells, tambourines and a warm blanket of fuzz beneath.  

If Diabolique sometimes verges on pastiche the quartet never descend into camp. Seigner has a gravitas that grounds the songs and the band plays it full-blooded building layers of guitars, organs and sitar upon mid-tempo beats to create dense hypnotic fugs. Newcombe’s attention to detail is evident in the production and there are “aha!” moments that reward repeated listening: the percussion sounds and droning guitars on “Un Rituel Inhabituel”, the subtle name checks of The 13th Floor Elevators and the New York Dolls in “Last Picture Show” and the luxuriously analog feel of the entire record.  

L’Epee has produced an album greater than the sum of its myriad of great parts. If Seigner is front and center, Newcombe and the Limiñanas provide her with a filigreed setting. Diabolique is a trip into the underworld from which you will return revitalized and ready for the next leg.  

Andrew Forell

[shinkomiii]

Shinkomi’s Artworks MASTERLIST

Started: 5/17/19

Last Updated: 4/3/21

Total Artworks: 25

MARVEL

Agatha Harkness: It’s been fun playing pretend, hasn’t it, Wanda?

VARIOUS

A Day in the Cafe

Fly me to the Moon.

The Star-crossed Deep Sea Diver and Astronaut.

Joker (2019) but as a Girl: FANART

Joker (2019): Introduce me as Joker: FANART ILLUSTRATION

ARCANA

Julian Devorak: Commission FANART

UNDERTALE

W.D. Gaster and Chara: FANART ILLUSTRATION

Sans and Papyrus in Snowdin: FANART

Undertale: DOODLES

STRANGER THINGS

Joyce x Hopper: The Date that Never Happened // FANART ILLUSTRATION

PLAYCHOICES

Maxwell Beaumont kisses MC: COMIC

Maxwell Beaumont x MC: FANART ILLUSTRATION

“When I Was Your Man” The Royal Romance ver.: COMIC

Maxwell Beaumont x MC Dancing King: COMIC

Maxwell Beaumont x MC Hug as Newly-Weds: SKETCH

Bertrand Beaumont: SKETCHES (this shit is old artwork it sucks)

Marc Antony x MC Slow Dancing: FANART ILLUSTRATION

Marc Antony x MC: FANART

Ethan Ramsey x MC “There are some things that are worth any risk.”: FANART ILLUSTRATION

Ethan Ramsey “The things you do to me, Rookie”: FANART ILLUSTRATION

Thomas Hunt x MC Masquerade Ball: FANART ILLUSTRATION

Thomas Hunt x MC “Drive Me Crazy”: FANART  MONOCHROME ILLUSTRATION

Thomas Hunt: CARTOON FANART

Thomas Hunt x MC Masquerade Ball: SKETCH

Estela Montoya: FANART

MORE ARTWORKS TO COME! Feel free to follow me and share this with other people, i really appreciate it! I’ve decided to make this so y’all wouldn’t get confused with my messy tumblr. Thank you for following me and appreciating my artworks! <3  

[skateofministry]

Olympic skateboarding doesn’t defy physics — it perfects it

Hi, hey there, it is Thursday calling and it wishes to know: What is your preferred minute from the Tokyo Olympics up until now? I’m Claire Cameron, handling editor at Inverse, and among my leading choices from this Olympics needs to be seeing skateboarder Kokona Hiraki end up being the youngest ever Olympian at the age of 12.

There’s a larger story to Hiraki’s victory, and it is our leading story today. Skateboarding is among the brand-new Olympic sports, and the professional athletes who completed in their inaugural Olympics revealed all of us precisely why it should have the seal of main sporting approval.

Olympic skateboarding doesn’t defy physics — it improves it. Scroll on for this story and more remarkable clinical discoveries, consisting of some incredibly slimy mice.

This is an adjusted variation of the Inverse Daily newsletter for Thursday, August 5, 2021. Subscribe free of charge and make benefits for checking out every day in your inbox.

The unicorns of the sea.Universal History Archive/Universal Images Group/Getty Images

Look: Satellite images expose what occurs when you track whales from area — Scientists utilize extremely high-resolution satellite images to discover beluga whales and narwhals from area, which might help in marine preservation Tara Yarlagadda reports.

“Our study proves that with the latest advancements in satellite technology, it is possible to obtain high-enough-resolution images to conduct our observations without disturbing the wildlife population, without risk to researchers, and in a cost-effective way,” Bertrand Charry informs Yarlagadda.

Charry is the lead biologist at Whale Seeker, a Montreal-based start-up that carried out the research study. Whale Seeker intends to utilize expert system to enhance whale tracking.

As Yarlagadda composes:

Ultimately, the scientists intend to utilize this innovation to much better track whale populations — a prompt factor as Arctic marine mammals are progressively under risk from vessel strikes.

To balance the requirement for the advancement of particular marine safeguarded locations and clinical observation, satellites let scientists securely keep an eye on the animals as they move throughout these huge locations.

See it on your own.

Related links:

Move over, Pythagoras.Nastasic/DigitalVision Vectors/Getty Images

An ancient Babylonian tablet is rewording mathematics history — An Australian mathematician has actually broken an ancient mathematics trick discovered in 2 ancient Babylonian tablets. Sarah Wells has the complete story:

First exhumed in 1894 from what is now Baghdad, a circular tablet — broken at the center with little, perpendicular imprints throughout it — was feared lost to antiquity. But in 2018, a picture of the tablet appeared in mathematician Daniel Mansfield’s e-mail inbox.

Hidden within this tablet is not just the earliest recognized display screen of used geometry however a brand-new ancient understanding of triangles. It might reword what we understand about the history of mathematics, Mansfield argues.

Babylonian mathematics, which currently holds a location of renown in the pantheon of ancient mathematics, may’ve been more advanced than historians have actually provided it credit for.

Key quote: “The way we understand trigonometry harks back to ancient Greek astronomers. I like to think of the Babylonian understanding of right triangles as an unexpected prequel.” — Daniel Mansfield

Crack the code.

Related stories:

Welcome to the pantheon.Virginie Blanquart/Moment/Getty Images

The physics of skateboarding: How Olympians master science to win — Olympic skateboarding techniques appear to defy physics, however it’s the opposite. These professional athletes have actually discovered to harness physics to leap, turn, and keep the board lined up. Inverse factor Anna Funk has more:

During the competitors, skateboarders are evaluated on the quality, problem, and creativity of their techniques, turns, and rotations. In park, particular relocations consist of hand plants, grinds, alley-oops, and grabs.

These techniques appear to defy the laws of physics, however it’s rather the opposite. These professional athletes have actually discovered to harness physics to leap, turn, and in some way keep the board lined up under their feet.

How do they do it? Inverse asked Bill Robertson, likewise called Dr. Skateboard, for the low-down. Robertson is a teacher of STEM education at the University of Texas at El Paso. His specialized is teaching physics through — you thought it — skateboarding.

Some unforeseen life guidance: “At some point, gravity’s going to win, no matter how fast you’re going.” — Bill Robertson

Read the complete story.

Related stories:

Slime-covered mice are an uncommon source of discovery.THEPALMER/DigitalVision Vectors/Getty Images

Mysteriously “slimy” mice cause amaze weight loss discovery — Researchers were amazed when mice being dealt with for diabetes wound up additional glossy. It appears they were producing fat out through their skin. Sophie Putka describes the science of this strange phenomenon:

What began as an examination into a treatment for type 2 diabetes took an odd turn when a group of laboratory mice in the research study began sparkling.

The opportunity observation was strange, to be sure, however it likewise took the scientists behind the research study down an extremely various course than they had actually at first planned. The mice were glossy due to the fact that they were producing fat out through their skin, making their fur so oily it looked damp. They were likewise losing weight quickly as an outcome.

Putka describes how the scientists took the opportunity observation and kept up it, releasing a paper setting out how the biology underlying this unusual impact might one day assistance deal with skin problem and metabolic concerns in human beings.

Key quote: “You can lose weight by secreting massive amounts of lipids through your skin, which is kind of, maybe it’s icky, but it’s still a fun concept.” — Taku Kambayashi

Read the complete story.

Related links:

Don’t look at the Sun.Tim Robberts/Photodisc/Getty Images

Solar eruptions: Why unforeseen observations left a researcher “dumbstruck” — Scientists pointed a telescope at an area near the Sun where they didn’t anticipate to see anything. What they discovered might assist them anticipate solar storms. Jon Kelvey lays it out:

In 2002, solar physicist Daniel Seaton was dealing with the TRACE solar observation satellite, a NASA instrument created to notify our understanding of the Sun’s activity. The Sun, while the factor we exist, stays in numerous methods a secret.

“We saw this one solar flare where there were just all of these weird features that came in from above the flare,” Seaton informs Inverse. Usually, solar flares — big surges near the surface area of the Sun — push product out and away from the star. That wasn’t occurring this time.

“In this case, we saw something — we didn’t know what it was at the time — emerge from the top of our images flowing down toward the Sun,” Seaton states. “I was absolutely dumbstruck.”

Read the complete story.

Related stories:

Happy birthday, Patrick.Al Pereira/Michael Ochs Archives/Getty Images

About the newsletter: Do you believe it can be enhanced? Have a story concept? Want to share a story about the time you satisfied an astronaut? Send those ideas and more to newsletter@inverse.com.

Science Song of the Day: “Girl, You Have No Faith In Medicine” by the White Stripes.

Follow me on Twitter at @ClaireHCameron, if for no other factor than to get Inverse headings in your timeline and a couple of other Inverse-y things.

Before we go: Happy birthday to Yungblud (24), Jesse Williams (40), Loni Anderson (76), Brian Sandoval (58), Patrick Ewing (59, envisioned) (Source: @AP_Planner)

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[recklesstreacherous]

Oh my gosh, Rebekah Harkness had such a messy and sad life www(.)nytimes(.)com/1988/05/22/books/is-there-a-chic-way-to-go(.)html?pagewanted=all

Thanks for linking this article! I love reading about her… and yes, she did have a very unique and tragic life. I’d love to watch a documentary about her.

_______________________________________________________________________‘IS THERE A CHIC WAY TO GO?’A week after her death on June 17, 1982, the mortal remains of Rebekah Harkness were toted home by her older daughter Terry in a Gristede’s shopping bag. The ashes were placed in a $250,000 jeweled urn made by Salvador Dali. They didn’t fit: “Just a leg is in there, or maybe half of her head, and an arm,” said one of Rebekah’s friends. Several hours later, the top of the urn - called the Chalice of Life - was somehow, by unknown agencies, uncovered. “Oh, my God,” said a witness. “She’s escaped.”        

This post-mortem mischief was going on at Harkness House, the East 75th Street town house headquarters of the Harkness Ballet Foundation, which Mrs. Harkness had modeled on the St. Petersburg Ballet School. The building, according to Craig Unger, the author of this rich-man/eye-of-the-needle biography, was in a state of putrefaction, “crumbling like Tara after the Civil War.” Meanwhile, in her apartment at the Carlyle Hotel, people who called themselves Rebekah Harkness’s friends were pillaging, “grabbing things right and left.”        

Rebekah’s younger daughter Edith, a failed suicide who had spent many years in mental institutions, took only her mother’s pills: Seconal, Nembutal, Valium, Haldol, Librium and various painkillers - 40 vials in all. Allen Pierce, Rebekah’s son by the first of her four husbands, was unable to be present. Convicted of murder in the second degree, he was behind the bars of a Florida jail. Bobby Scevers, Rebekah’s lover, 25 years younger than she and a self-declared homosexual, pronounced her children “the most worthless, selfish, useless creatures I’ve ever seen.” (Mr. Scevers has a stunning way of placing himself squarely in the center of every sentence he utters; he appears to believe that Rebekah Harkness’s death happened more to him than to her.) If I report on the demise of the multimillionaire patron of the dance dry-eyed, it is because I am confident in the belief that nothing we say about the dead can prejudice the Defense or tip the Scales of Judgment. I myself wouldn’t give the time of day to anyone who cleaned her pool out with Dom Perignon, put mineral oil in the punch at her sister’s debutante ball and (all in the middle of the Great Depression) got tossed off an ocean liner for shouting obscenities, throwing dinner plates at an orchestra of Filipinos gamely playing the American national anthem, and offending the sensibilities of her fellow passengers by swimming nude - for which actions she counted herself witty. (I do admit, however, that I’d go a long way to read a sentence like this, spoken by Bertrand Castelli, the co-producer of “Hair,” about the time he made love to Rebekah Harkness in her office: “It was as if we were two camels in the desert who suddenly know that the only way to make an oasis is to really talk sense.” After his brief interlude in the oasis, Mr. Castelli was made the artistic director of the Harkness Ballet. “Kiss me,” she commanded. “The others, they just know how to bite.”) Craig Unger, a former editor at New York magazine, appears to be dazzled by all this, although it is sometimes hard to tell whether his breathlessness arises from approval, disapproval, sadness, awe or simple bewilderment. Mr. Unger, who records interviews uncritically and unreflectively, does not permit us to know exactly how he feels about his subject.        

Rebekah Harkness was born in 1915 to a rich, emotionally frigid St. Louis family. She was brought up by a nanny who was chosen because she had worked in an insane asylum. She went to Fermata, a South Carolina finishing school that had sheltered Roosevelts, Biddles and Auchinclosses. There she delighted, as she wrote in her scrapbook, in setting out to “do everything bad.’'  After her divorce from W. Dickson Pierce, an upper-class advertising photographer, she chose for her second husband the Standard Oil heir William Hale Harkness, who enjoyed a lofty social status, as her own family did not. He appears to have been an embarrassing sort of man; he wrote and privately published a book called ’'Totem and Topees,” which he described as a “conglomeration of uninteresting misinformation,” and followed that with a book called “Ho hum, the Fisherman,” which, he said, did not “have the excuse even of literary merit.” We are told by Mr. Unger - who is an uncomfortable stranger in the world of the rich, unused to deciphering nuances of caste - that the Harknesses’ seven-year marriage was a happy one. Little evidence is given in support of this thesis except that the two wrote a song together called “Giggling With My Feet.”        

After she was widowed, Mrs. Harkness renovated her Rhode Island house; she installed 8 kitchens and 21 baths. This arrangement effectively kept her from having to see her three children on anything like a regular basis. She had a salon of sorts. She traveled a lot.        

She fancied herself a composer.        

She acquired a guru, also a yogi.        

She married again. And again.        

She was surrounded by a group her son Allen described as “all the fairies flying off the floor, the blackmailing lawyers, the weirdos, the people in the trances.” “We were the favorites,” says a dancer. “We were the loved ones.” In 1961, Rebekah Harkness became the sponsor of the late Robert Joffrey’s small ballet troupe. She did this in grand - if occasionally Marie Antoinette-ish -style. Generous, wasteful, willful, demanding and delusional, she broke with Joffrey to form the Harkness Ballet when he refused to perform the compositions she insisted on writing. In the eyes of many, she had betrayed him. “Costumes, sets, musical scores,” Mr. Unger writes, “many of the best dancers, the entire repertory - even the works choreographed by Joffrey himself - were owned by her foundation.”        

“You see,” she said. “Money can buy anything.” It bought her the services of George Skibine, Marjorie Tallchief, Alvin Ailey, Erik Bruhn and Andy Warhol, but it did not guarantee her success. Mr. Unger tells us that under the direction of the dancer-choreographer Larry Rhodes the company began to garner critical raves - whereupon Mrs. Harkness fired him. Soon Clive Barnes was writing that the Harkness Ballet had “descended beyond the necessity of serious consideration,” and in 1975 it folded. She had spent the 1987 equivalent of $38 million on a failed enterprise.        She rang J. D. Salinger’s bell dressed as a cleaning lady, having conceived the harebrained scheme that the reclusive writer’s short stories be put to music.        

She dyed chocolate mousse blue. She dyed a cat green.        

She moved hundreds of thousands of dollars from one bank to another for the pleasure of confusing her accountants. She believed in reincarnation. She filled her fish tank with goldfish and Scotch.        

Her daughter Terry gave birth to a severely retarded and disabled child. For a time, Rebekah Harkness appeared to be enamored of the passive child, called Angel. Her passion, such as it was, burned itself out quickly, coincidentally with the baby’s pulling a ribbon out of her hair. Bobby Scevers, Mr. Unger writes, “had no sympathy” for the child. “So absurd,” Mr. Scevers pronounced. “When they started talking about putting the nursery over my room … I just hit the ceiling. I don’t want this screaming baby over my room! … Let the little creature die!” When she was 10 years old, she did.        

Her daughter Edith jumped off roofs, swallowed pills and managed not to kill herself. “How should she do it?” Rebekah Harkness asked. “Is there a chic way to go?”        

She lived on champagne and injections - Vitamin B, testosterone, painkillers - as a result of which her bathrooms were splattered with blood and her muscles calcified. (“She walked,” an acquaintance said, “like Frankenstein.”) One could almost feel sorry for her.        

At the very end, according to Bobby Scevers, as she lay dying of cancer, “It was complete chaos… . It was so wonderful - everybody running around signing wills and trying on different wigs.”      

Her daughter Terry hired Roy Cohn in a (failed) attempt to have her will invalidated.        

Her daughter Edith killed herself. (“I’m glad Edith is gone,” said the unquenchable Bobby Scevers.        

“I can’t believe it took her this long to succeed.”) Her son Allen says the years he spent in prison were the happiest of his life. He likes to talk about blowing people away.       Knowing all this (and much, much more; Mr. Unger withholds no ugly or racy detail), what is it exactly that we have learned?        That money can’t buy happiness? That even the rich must die? These are facts of which we have already been apprised.      

One sometimes wonders if the point of all these poor-little-rich-girl/boy biographies is to lull the rest of us into a false sense of security: She is so unlike us that we are not encouraged to reflect upon our own mortality, the contemplation of which is a healthy and necessary exercise. We are meant to take comfort and a measure of relief from our difference - though, as we know but do not frequently wish to remember, the grave awaits us all.        

It would be interesting to see what a social historian, someone familiar with the hierarchies of caste and class in America - or, better yet, a novelist with a theological bent - would make of the raw material Mr. Unger has gathered. I am beginning to think that biography, especially the biography of such a chaotic personality as Rebekah Harkness, needs to be molded and informed by a novelist’s ordering imagination. It might also have been interesting to see how a feminist writer would have assimilated the facts of Rebekah Harkness’s sorry life. Might Mrs. Harkness be seen as a casualty of her own doomed and defiled expectations? Unfit for mothering, unfit for ordinary love, unfit - untrained - to be the caretaker of a great fortune, was she altogether silly or altogether bad? Was she power or pawn? And how in the world did she get that way?        

It is possible to write an edifying biography about an unedifying life. Jean Stein and George Plimpton did that brilliantly in “Edie,” the biography of poor Edie Sedgwick. “Blue Blood” is edifying only insofar as it raises questions about what a biography should be. A terrible story is told here. It makes no sense - and no sense is made of it.        

[magali1982]

"His full name is Matthew Gabriel Philippe Bertrand Sebastien de Clermont. He was also a very good Sebastien, and a passable Gabriel.He hates Bertrand and will not answer to Philippe." Deborah Harkness, A discovery of Witches. Ooops...it seems I'm doing it again. Some professor Clairmont's sketches. #instaillustration #instawip #instascrap #sketching #sketch #wip #adiscoveryofwitches #shadowofnight #thebookoflife #deboraharkness #witches #vampires #demons #illustrationwip #traditionalart #pencils

[vincentcatagainsttheworld]

#Repost Deborah Harkness FB page “Scientist. Vampire. Warrior. Spy. Another piece of Matthew fell into place, and with it I better understood his ingrained habit of never sharing anything—major or minor—unless he was forced to do so.” -SHADOW OF NIGHT The All Souls Discussion Group will be taking on our 1500 year old vampire, Matthew Gabriel Philippe Bertrand Sebastien de Clermont in this month’s Character Deconstruction discussion, starting June 10th. Come join in as they discuss and celebrate our beloved Matthew. If you do not yet belong to the All Souls Discussion Group you can join here: https://www.facebook.com/groups/allsoulstrilogy Please answer both questions. “On All Souls Day, around the year 500 AD, a boy named Matthew was born. He lived in difficult times, and tried to die, only to live again. For more than 1500 years, Matthew has struggled with his personal demons and has represented humanity at its best and worst. He is selfish and selfless, capable of bitter hatred and unconditional love, anger and tenderness, passion and prejudice. He is still, after all these years, a work in progress--just as we all are.” -Deborah Harknes, 2016 What are your thoughts on Matthew? Is he one of your favorite characters in the All Souls Series? Oh the stories he could tell (if you could get him to share) of all that he has seen and all the people he has met. What questions would you want to ask him? Cat https://www.instagram.com/p/Ced-tT7MsEZ/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[kitap-ruyasi83]

#kitapyorumu👉 Deborah Harkness 🍏 HAYAT KİTABI . . #alinti - "Siz sormadan söyleyeyim, gündüzleri dolaşabilirim, saçlarım güneşte alev almaz ve haç taşıyan bir Katolik'im. Uyduğumda ki bunu çok sık yapmam, tabut yerine yatakta yatmayı tercih ederim. Eğer kalbime bir kazık saplamaya çalışırsanız, tahta muhtemelen girmeden parçalanır." . . #alinti2 - "Ailenin reisi sen olabilirsin, Baldwin, ama unutma, bu ailenin suikastçısı benim," diye hırladı Matthew. "Suikastçı mı? Matthew'un bir baska yönü açığa çıkarken kafamın karışıklığını gizlemeye çalıştım. Bilim insanı. Vampir. Savaşçı. Casus. Prens. Suikastçı. . . #alinti3 - Matthew hayretimi bu kez daha ayrıntılı bir öpücük almak için firsat bildi. Öpücüğüne son verdiğinde. "Philippe'in her zaman yorgun görünmesine şaşmıyorum artık, evin reisi karınken her şeyin sorumlusu senmişsin gibi davranmak çok yorucu." . . Hadi şimdi dizi bıraktığımız yerden başlasın! Çünkü seriyi bitirdim ve mutsuzların dibindeyim. Son kitap tam da hayalimdeki gibi bir finalle bitti. Tamam tamam buraya finali yazmayacağım ama anlayın beni çok seviyorum oturup saatlerce yazabilir meramı anlatabilirim. Yeni karakter sürprizleri, eskilerden gelenler hatta Corra bile! Hepsini aşırı aşırı özleyeceğim. Ama elbette herşeyden çok Matthew Gabriel Philippe Bertrand Sébastien de Clermont'u özleyeceğim. O yüzden dizicim lütfen hemen başlaki hasretimi giderebileyim. Seriyi henüz okumayanlar! Üzmeyin beni seriye hemen başlayın. Sizi seviyorum ama Matthew'ciğimi daha çok seviyor olabilirim. Asi kızdan Sevgilerle #kitap #books #deborahharkness (Istanbul Province) https://www.instagram.com/p/Bs0h-vqlFKn/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=10lzl6an4yxuy