#Violette Le Duc

[machaonreads]

Whumptober 13 : Team as Family

Une seconde famille, Les Trois Mousquetaires

Louis de La Valette savait se montrer un hôte attentif et accommodant, surtout lorsqu'il accueillait des invités de marque et, a fortiori, lorsque l'un d'entre eux était un ami aussi cher à son cœur qu'Armand, cardinal de Richelieu. D'ordinaire, on dégustait à sa table saucisses, foie gras et cassoulet jusqu'à plus faim, on buvait du vin puissant du Languedoc en suçant des sucreries à la violette, le tout au son des luths et des vièles qu'harmonisaient expertement les musiciens du Capitole, dont les chansons à l'ancienne manière plaisaient à l'archevêque de Toulouse. Cultivé et curieux, il conviait à sa table des savants et des salonnières, et contribuait lui-même largement aux brillantes conversations qu'il suscitait ainsi.

Ne rien pouvoir offrir de ce luxe à Armand et à son compagnon de voyage, le très respectable comte de Tréville, capitaine des mousquetaires du roi, le mettait au désespoir.

Mais la discrétion quant à leur séjour chez lui devait être absolue : le triste attentat dont ils avaient été victimes à Aucamville le confirmait absolument. Non qu'Armand eût informé Louis des objectifs de leur mission, car ce cardinal-là était secret comme ses chats ! Cependant, Louis aussi baignait dans l'Église et l'État depuis de nombreuses décennies, même s'il pêchait en eaux moins profondes que son compagnon de vocation : par cette longue habitude, il savait décrypter les présages de la sédition et les inquiétudes du roi. Le duc de Montmorency s'agitait beaucoup ; il s'agitait trop...

S'il apprenait que les fanatiques financés par Marie de Médicis avaient réussi à blesser grièvement le premier ministre et le capitaine Tréville, avant que ceux-ci ne trouvassent refuge dans les appartements de l'archevêque, le duc dépêcherait des assassins pour finir le travail jusque dans la sacristie de la cathédrale Saint-Étienne.

Aucune information sur leur présence ne devait donc filtrer à l'extérieur. Par peur des fuites, Louis avait installé ses pensionnaires dans sa propre chambre à coucher et congédié tous ses domestiques, ne gardant dans la confidence qu'Antoine, son secrétaire particulier. La suite d'Armand et de Tréville, elle, ne comptait en tout et pour tout que quatre mousquetaires. Enfin, trois mousquetaires et un soldat qui n'avait pas encore officiellement intégré la compagnie, mais qui était manifestement déjà très lié à ses compagnons. C'était à leur arrivée in extremis que le ministre et le capitaine devaient d'avoir survécu à l'embuscade, car ils avaient traversé la France à une allure presque inhumaine quand ils avaient découvert le complot par un heureux concours de circonstances, en enquêtant sur un inquiétant trafic de bronze dans les quartiers les plus mal famés de Paris.

(À chaque fois que les détails de cette investigation revenaient dans la conversation, Louis se signait avec ferveur, ému par la protection que Dieu accordait ainsi à ses serviteurs.)

À eux six, ils avaient lavé les blessures, avaient dressé des attelles et des pansements ; Antoine se chargeait des commissions et racontait dehors à qui voulait l'entendre que l'archevêque était maintenu au lit par une forte fièvre. Ce mensonge justifiait au passage ses fréquents arrêts chez l'herboriste.

La dévotion des mousquetaires à leur chef sautait aux yeux. Louis avait dû invoquer les meilleurs arguments de la casuistique, soutenus par des traits de rhétorique qu'il ne fourbissait d'ordinaire que pour clouer le bec aux jésuites, afin de les chasser de la chambre, où ils étaient déterminés à dormir en chien de fusil sur le tapis, au pied du lit qui, faute de place, hébergeait tout à la fois leur capitaine et leur ministre.

(Pour des raisons que vous comprendrez sans doute aisément, si vous connaissez la France, et si vous avez l'usage du monde, la chambre de l'archevêque était la seule pièce de ses appartements à n'avoir pas de fenêtre.)

Seul leur souci de la santé du capitaine, qui avait grand besoin de calme et de repos pour se remettre de la strangulation dont les marques noires restaient horriblement voyantes contre sa trachée – et des coups de masse qui lui avaient brisé le bras droit –, avait finalement convaincu ces soldats loyaux de quitter la chambre. Ils se relayaient néanmoins devant la porte, qu'ils maintenaient ouverte à toute heure, surveillant l'intérieur autant que l'extérieur, comme s'ils jugeaient qu'une troupe de mercenaires, aux poches chargées de poudre par le duc de Montmorency, représentait pour leur précieux commandant un danger égal à celui que posait Armand, pourtant toujours inconscient depuis que l'un des reîtres lui avait transpercé les reins avec son épée.

Ouais. Le cardinal de La Valette en savait beaucoup sur les actions de son ami Richelieu, mais même à un homme d'Église aux yeux aussi ouverts que les siens, semblable précaution paraissait excessive. Il y avait, indubitablement, un passif derrière, qu'Armand lui raconterait peut-être, s'il se rétablissait. (Plût à Dieu.)

Après des épisodes de lucidité intermittente, Tréville reprit définitivement connaissance le surlendemain de leur arrivée. Ce plein éveil fut salué par ses hommes en la plus étrange procession que Louis eût jamais vue. 

Le jeune D'Artagnan, dont c'était alors le tour de garde, se précipita au chevet de son chef en rameutant ses compagnons de la voix ; il échangea quelques mots avec Tréville d'un ton vibrant de joie et de soulagement, puis s'appliqua, pour la quinzième fois peut-être, à étaler sur le bras écrasé l'onguent de sa mère, qu'il préparait tous les jours avec un soin infini. Le dénommé Aramis imita son exemple, vérifiant chacun des points de suture qu'il avait cousus lui-même et plaisantant sans discontinuer pour dissimuler l'intensité de son émotion. Porthos serrait la main gauche de Tréville avec tant de force que Louis s'inquiéta un instant pour la survie de cet appendice encore valide, tandis qu'Athos, dont la réserve coutumière trahissait une éducation noble, se tenait au pied du lit et clignait profusément des yeux.

Ils firent un tel boucan qu’ils finirent par tirer Armand aussi de son faux sommeil, précipitant Louis à son tour au chevet de son ami, auquel il tendit un godet rempli d’eau. Le réveil de Richelieu rafraîchit un peu l’humeur des mousquetaires, mais pas celle de leur capitaine, qui adressa au cardinal rescapé un large sourire de contentement.

Il y avait, là aussi, une histoire, que Louis espérait bien apprendre bientôt de la bouche d’Armand : Dieu lui pardonne ses péchés, le cardinal de La Valette aimait les cancans beaucoup plus qu’il ne devrait. Et si Armand et Tréville restaient trop discrets, il était sûr que ces mousquetaires dévoués n’avaient pas leur langue dans leur poche : le plus jeune membre du quatuor, par exemple, témoignait d’un tempérament loquace entièrement à son goût…

[a-solitary-sea-rover-backup]

After the 2020 edition of the Vendée Globe generated unprecedented interest, the elite solo round the world race increased the number of places at the start to 40 IMOCA competitors for the 2024 edition. 

The qualification rules had been strengthened since 2020, which required the sailors to take the start of two solo races and finish at least one of them between 2022 and 2024, in a time that does not exceed the winner’s time plus 50%. Among the 44 entrants, 42 skippers managed to qualify.

The limit was deemed necessary for safety reasons and to preserve the unique and exceptional characteristics of this race, with organizers having to make the final cut for the entrants to start on November 10, 2024.

2024 Entrants: • Fabrice Amedeo (Nexans – Wewise) – FRA • Romain Attanasio (Fortinet – Best Western) – FRA • Eric Bellion (STAND AS ONE) – FRA • Yannick Bestaven (Maître CoQ V) – FRA • Jérémie Beyou (Charal) – FRA • Arnaud Boissières (La Mie Câline) – FRA • Louis Burton (Bureau Vallée) – FRA • Conrad Colman (MS Amlin) – USA/NZL • Antoine Cornic (Human Immobilier) – FRA • Manuel Cousin (Coup de Pouce) – FRA • Clarisse Crémer (L’Occitane en Provence) – FRA • Charlie Dalin (MACIF Santé Prévoyance) – FRA • Samantha Davies (Initiatives-Cœur) – GBR • Violette Dorange (DeVenir) – FRA • Louis Duc (Fives Group – Lantana Environnement) – FRA • Benjamin Dutreux (GUYOT environnement – Water Family) – FRA • Benjamin Ferré (Monnoyeur – Duo for a Job) – FRA • Sam Goodchild (VULNERABLE) – GBR • Pip Hare (Medallia) – GBR • Oliver Heer (Oliver Heer Ocean Racing) – SUI • Boris Herrmann (Malizia – Seaexplorer) – GER • Isabelle Joschke (MACSF) – FRA/GER • Jean Le Cam (Tout commence en Finistère – Armor-lux) – FRA • Tanguy Le Turquais (Lazare) – FRA • Nicolas Lunven (Holcim – PRB) – FRA • Sébastien Marsset (Foussier) – FRA • Paul Meilhat (Biotherm) – FRA • Justine Mettraux (TeamWork – Team SNEF) – SUI • Giancarlo Pedote (Prysmian) – ITA • Yoann Richomme (Paprec Arkéa) – FRA • Alan Roura (Hublot) – SUI • Thomas Ruyant (VULNERABLE) – FRA • Damien Seguin (Groupe APICIL) – FRA • Kojiro Shiraishi (DMG MORI Global One) – JPN • Sébastien Simon (Groupe Dubreuil) – FRA • Maxime Sorel (V and B – Monbana – Mayenne) – FRA • Guirec Soudée (Freelance.com) – FRA • Denis Van Weynbergh (D’Ieteren Group) – BEL • Szabolcs Weöres (New Europe) – HUN • Jingkun Xu (Singchain Team Haikou) – CHN

[les-degustations-ugo]

🇫🇷❓❓Hello les amoureux du tire-bouchon. Et vous, Connaissez-vous les Vins de Anne de Joyeuse ❓❓🇫🇷

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🍇🍷IGP Pays d'oc rouge Syrah/Malbec 2022 cuvée "Rien à Cirer"du domaine Anne de Joyeuse 🍇🍷:

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🍇 :

Syrah

Malbec

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���:

12,90€ /bouteille

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👁️ :

Robe de couleur grenat soutenue avec des reflets violets

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👃 :

Un nez sur des notes de fruits noir, épices

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�� :

En bouche on a un vin gourmand, sur les fruits croquants et juteux. Un bel équilibre. Avec des tanins ronds. Sur des arômes de cerise, cassis, Myrtille, épices (Anis, Cannelle, clou de girofle. Une bonne longueur en bouche avec une finale sur des notes de violettes.

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📜En résumé📜 :

J'ai beaucoup aimé cette cuvée d'une belle gourmandise. Une belle cuvée à partager et à cire-ôter" entre amis.

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🧆Dégusté sur un Agneau rôti aux herbes🧆.

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🍷Quelques accords mets et vin possible avec cette cuvée🍷 : Boeuf aux poivrons, Brochettes d'agneau, Cassoulet, Charcuteries.....

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📌N'oubliez pas, boire un canon c'est sauver

un vigneron. Allez voir le site internet du domaine  pour voir toutes les cuvées et promotions du moment📌. 

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🔞« L'abus d'alcool est dangereux pour la santé, à consommer avec modération »🔞 La plupart des vins ont était dégustés et recrachés.

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#lesdegustationsugo #wine #winelover #vino #winetasting #winetime #winelovers #instawine #redwine #winestagram #winery #beer #wineoclock #vin #sommelier #love #vinho  #winelife #instagood #whitewine #cocktails #drinks #wein #wineporn #drink

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📜🇨🇵Description du Domaine 📜🇨🇵 :

En 1929, un groupe de vignerons décide de mutualiser leurs outils et leur savoir-faire pour créer un chai de vinification et de commercialisation des vins rouges de la haute vallée de l’Aude. Les blancs viendront plus tard.

Ils choisissent le nom Anne de Joyeuse en hommage au Duc de Joyeuse, qui fût le premier à faire rayonner la région à la cour du roi Henri III. En échange de ses loyaux services, le roi lui offre la Seigneurie et les terres de Limoux.

Dès 1972, ils décident de planter Merlot, Cabernet-Sauvignon, Cabernet -Franc, Malbec pour les cépages rouges, Chardonnay et Sauvignon pour les cépages blancs. Ces variétés parfaitement adaptées au terroir de Limoux, bénéficient du croisement des influences des quatres terroirs: Méditerranéen, Océanique, Pyrénéen et Autan✅.

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⏬🇫🇷Français dans les commentaires🇫🇷🇮🇹Italiano nei commenti 🇮🇹⏬

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🇬🇧❓❓Hello corkscrew lovers.  And you, do you know the wines of Anne de Joyeuse ❓❓🇬🇧

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🍇🍷 IGP Pays d'oc red Syrah/Malbec 2022 cuvée "Rien à Cirer" from the Anne de Joyeuse estate 🍇🍷:

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🍇:

Shiraz

Malbec

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💰:

€12.90 /bottle

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👁️:

Deep garnet color with purple reflections

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👃:

A nose with notes of black fruits, spices

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💋:

On the palate we have a gourmet wine, on crunchy and juicy fruits.  A nice balance.  With round tannins.  On aromas of cherry, blackcurrant, blueberry, spices (Anise, Cinnamon, clove. A good length in the mouth with a finish on notes of violets.

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📜In summary📜:

I really liked this cuvée of a beautiful greediness.  A beautiful cuvée to share and wax-remove with friends.

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🧆 Tasted on a roast lamb with herbs 🧆.

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🍷 Some food and wine pairings possible with this cuvée 🍷: Beef with peppers, Lamb skewers, Cassoulet, Charcuteries.....

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📌 Don't forget, drinking a cannon is saving a winemaker.  Go see the domain's website to see all the vintages and promotions of the moment 📌.

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🔞 "Alcohol abuse is dangerous for your health, to be consumed in moderation"🔞 Most of the wines have been tasted and spat out.

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#lesdegustationsugo #wine #winelover #vino #winetasting #winetime #winelovers #instawine #redwine #winestagram #winery #beer #wineoclock #vin #sommelier #love #vinho #foodporn #winelife #instagood #whitewine #cocktails #drinks #wein #foodie #wineporn #drink

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🇬���📜Description of the Domain📜🇬🇧

☑️In 1929, a group of winegrowers decided to pool their tools and their know-how to create a wine-making and marketing cellar for red wines from the upper Aude valley. White will come later.

They choose the name Anne de Joyeuse in homage to the Duke of Joyeuse, who was the first to promote the region at the court of King Henry III. In exchange for his loyal services, the king offered him the Lordship and the lands of Limoux.

In 1972, they decided to plant Merlot, Cabernet-Sauvignon, Cabernet -Franc, Malbec for the red grape varieties, Chardonnay and Sauvignon for the white grape varieties. These varieties, perfectly adapted to the Limoux terroir, benefit from the crossing of influences from the four terroirs: Mediterranean, Oceanic, Pyrenean and Autan✅.

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🇮🇹❓❓Ciao amanti dei cavatappi.  E tu, conosci i vini di Anne de Joyeuse❓❓🇮🇹

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🍇🍷 IGP Pays d'oc rosso Syrah/Malbec 2022 cuvée "Rien à Cirer" della tenuta Anne de Joyeuse 🍇🍷:

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🍇:

Shiraz

Malbec

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💰:

€ 12,90 / bottiglia

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👁️:

Colore granato intenso con riflessi porpora

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👃:

Un naso con note di frutti neri, spezie

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💋:

Al palato abbiamo un vino gourmet, su frutti croccanti e succosi.  Un bell'equilibrio.  Con tannini rotondi.  Su aromi di ciliegia, ribes nero, mirtillo, spezie (anice, cannella, chiodi di garofano. Buona lunghezza in bocca con un finale su note di viola.

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📜In sintesi📜:

Mi è piaciuta molto questa cuvée di una bella golosità.  Una bella cuvée da condividere e depilare con gli amici.

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🧆 Degustato su un arrosto di agnello alle erbe 🧆.

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🍷 Alcuni abbinamenti enogastronomici possibili con questa cuvée 🍷: Manzo ai peperoni, Spiedini di agnello, Cassoulet, Salumi.....

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📌 Non dimenticare, bere un cannone è salvare un enologo.  Andate a vedere il sito del dominio per vedere tutte le annate e le promozioni del momento 📌.

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🔞 "L'abuso di alcol è pericoloso per la salute, da consumare con moderazione"🔞 La maggior parte dei vini sono stati assaggiati e sputati.

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🇮🇹📜Descrizione del Dominio 📜🇮🇹

Nel 1929 un gruppo di viticoltori decise di unire i propri strumenti e il proprio know-how per creare una cantina per la vinificazione e la commercializzazione dei vini rossi dell'alta valle dell'Aude.  I bianchi verranno dopo.

Scelsero il nome Anne de Joyeuse in omaggio al duca di Joyeuse, che fu il primo a promuovere la regione alla corte del re Enrico III.  In cambio dei suoi fedeli servigi, il re gli offrì la Signoria e le terre di Limoux.

Dal 1972 decisero di impiantare Merlot, Cabernet-Sauvignon, Cabernet-Franc, Malbec per i vitigni a bacca rossa, Chardonnay e Sauvignon per i vitigni a bacca bianca.  Queste varietà, perfettamente adattate al terroir di Limoux, beneficiano dell'incrocio delle influenze dei quattro terroir: Mediterraneo, Oceanico, Pireneo e Autan✅.

[northernmariette]

Countess Potocka Visits the Davouts

The moment is drawing near when I will say goodbye to Countess Potocka. In my next post she will share the scene with another memoir-writer, both of them describing the same person in quite contrasting ways. For now, the Countess is still starring on her own, compelled by good manners to accept an invitation to a meal she would have given her left arm to be able to refuse. Marie-Louise being absent, the Countess finds another handy target for her barbs.  

The Countess, having ascertained whether her visit will be more convenient in the daytime or in the evening (daytime), gets dressed in new, fashionable and expensive attire, though she is much bothered by her shoes (too small?). I can't help but think that this outfit was meant to impress the Davouts with her superior status and unimpeachable pedigree - something simpler would have been preferable, as we shall see. Since it's already three in the afternoon when she appears at her hosts' door, maybe they were not expecting her anymore, even if we assume she had advised them this was the day of her visit. At least the Countess is honest enough to state Madame Davout had treated her well in the past.

C'est ainsi que j'allai chez la maréchale Davout, qui m'avait comblée de prévenances pendant son séjour à Varsovie, du temps où son mari commandait en Pologne. Comme elle passait les étés à Savigny (1), c'est là qu'il fallut aller la chercher. J'envoyai à son hôtel en ville quelle serait l'heure la plus convenable pour faire ma visite, - on me répondit que ce serait dans la matinée. Je me rendis donc à Savigny par un soleil brûlant, mal garantie par un très petit chapeau orné de violettes, et très gênée dans mes brodequins lilas parfaitement assortis à une robe montante en gros de Naples de même couleur ; - madame Germont, oracle de la mode, avait elle-même combiné toute ma toilette.

[...]

[J]e me promettais une visite agréable. L'hôtel de la maréchale, à Paris, m'avait donné une grande idée de son goût et de son opulence, et je pensais la trouver luxueusement établie à Savigny. J'arrivai vers trois heures. Le château, entouré d'un fossé et d'un mur, avait pour entrée une porte hermétiquement fermée. L'herbe croissait dans les fossés ; - on eût dit une habitation abandonnée depuis maintes années. Mon laquais, ayant enfin trouvé le cordon de la sonnette, une petite fille assez mal vêtue vint, au bout de quelques minutes, demander ce qu'on désirait.

- Madame la maréchale est-elle à la maison?

- Oh ! pardonnez-moi, qu'ils y sont, et M. le maréchal aussi, répondit la fillette.

Et vite elle accourut appeler un des hommes du château, qui se mit à la suivre sans se presser et tout en ajustant sa livrée.

Je me fis annoncer, et blottie dans la voiture, j'attendis encore assez longtemps, ne sachant trop si je devais insister ou simplement laisser une carte.  

Au bout d'un petit quart d'heure un valet de chambre se présenta enfin à la portière du carrosse et me fit entrer dans une vaste cour ; il s'excusa des lenteurs du service, m'avouant sans façons qu'à l'instant où j'étais arrivée, les gens travaillaient au jardin, et que lui-même était occupé à nettoyer le verger.

On me fit traverser plusieurs salons complètement démeublés ; la pièce où l'on m'introduisit n'était guère plus ornée que les précédentes, mais au moins il y avait un canapé et des chaises ! La maréchale ne tarda pas à apparaître. Je m'aperçus aisément qu'elle avait fait toilette pour moi, car elle attachait encore quelques épingles à son corsage. Après quelques minutes d'une conversation languissante, elle sonna pour faire prévenir son mari. Puis nous reprîmes notre entretien pénible. Ce n'est pas que madame Davout manquât d'usage ou fût dépourvue de cette sorte d'esprit qui facilite les rapports entre deux personnes du même monde, mais il y avait en elle une certaine roideur qui pouvait être prise pour de la morgue. Elle ne perdait jamais de vue le maréchalat ; jamais un sourire gracieux ne venait animer les traits de sa beauté sévère. [...]

Le maréchal arriva enfin dans un état de transpiration qui attestait son empressement ; il s'assit tout essoufflé, et, tenant son mouchoir de poche pour s'essuyer le front, il eut soin de le mouiller de salive afin d'enlever plus sûrement la poussière dont sa figure était couverte. Cet abandon un peu soldatesque cadrait mal avec les manières empesées de son épouse ; elle en fut visiblement contrariée. Me trouvant de trop dans cette scène muette, je me levai et voulus prendre congé, mais on me pria de rester à déjeuner. En attendant que le repas fût servi, nous fîmes une promenade dans le parc... Il n'y avait aucun chemin tracé, les gazons étaient de hautes herbes toutes prêtes à devenir des meules de foin, les arbres coupés pendant la Révolution repoussaient en manière de broussaille ; je laissais à chaque buisson des fragments de mes volants, et mes brodequins lilas avaient pris une teinte verdâtre. Le maréchal nous encourageait de la voix et du geste, nous promettant une surprise charmante !... Quel ne fut pas mon désappointement lorsque, au détour d'un massif de chênes adolescents, nous nous trouvâmes en face de trois petites huttes en osier ! Le duc mit un genou en terre et s'écria :

- Ah! les voilà... les voilà !...

Puis, modulant sa voix :

- Pi... pi... pi...

Aussitôt une nuée de perdreaux se mit à voltiger autour de la tête du maréchal.

- Ne laissez sortir les autres qu'au moment où les plus jeunes seront rentrés, et donnez du pain à ces dames... Elles vont s'amuser comme des reines, dit-il à un rustre qui remplissait les fonctions de garde-chasse.

Et nous voilà, par un soleil brûlant, donnant la becquée aux perdreaux !

La duchesse vida, avec un calme et une dignité imperturbable, le panier qu'on lui avait présenté. Quant à moi, je faillis me trouver mal, et, n'y tenant plus, je fis observer que le ciel se couvrait et que nous étions menacés d'un orage.

[...]

Le déjeuner fini, je m'esquivai en toute hâte, jurant, mais un peu tard, qu'on ne m'y prendrait plus.

Thus I went to the home of Maréchale Davout, who had showered me with courtesies during her stay in Warsaw, when her husband was in command in Poland. As she spent the summers in Savigny (1), it is there that I had to go and find her. I wrote to her Paris house to find out the most convenient time to visit her, and was told that it would be in the daytime. So I went to Savigny on a broiling hot day, little protected from the sun by a very small hat adorned with violets, and very uncomfortable in my lilac booties perfectly matched with a high dress in taffeta in the same color; - Madame Germont, the oracle of fashion, had herself arranged my costume.

[...]

I had promised myself this would be a pleasant visit. The Maréchale's Paris residence had much impressed me with her taste and love of fashion, and I thought I would find her luxuriously settled in Savigny. I arrived at about three o'clock. The door of the chateau, which was encircled by a moat and an enclosure, was hermetically sealed. Tall grasses were growing in the moat; the chateau had the appearance of having been deserted for many years. My footman having finally found the doorbell, a little girl, rather ill-dressed, appeared, after a few minutes, to ask what was wanted.

- "Is Madame la Maréchale at home?"

- "Oh, but yes, they are there, and so is the Marshal," answered the little girl.

And she hurried to summon one of the servants of the chateau, who proceeded to follow her at a leisurely pace, adjusting his livery as he went.

I had myself announced, and huddling in the carriage, I waited for quite a while, wondering whether I should insist or whether I ought to simply leave a visiting card.

After a mere quarter of an hour, a manservant finally appeared at the door of my carriage and led me into a vast courtyard; he apologized for the slowness of the service, informing me without particular deference that at the moment I arrived, the household staff was working in the garden, and that he himself had been engaged in tidying the orchard.

I was led through several completely unfurnished salons; the room into which I was ushered was hardly more ornate than the previous ones, but at least it had a sofa and chairs! The Maréchale presently appeared. I could easily perceive that she had just dressed up for me, because she was still busy fastening some pins to her bodice. After a few minutes of languishing conversation, she pulled the bellcord so her husband could be apprised of my presence. She and I then resumed our awkward conversation. It is not that Madame Davout's manners were lacking, or that she was deprived of that sort of wit which facilitates exchages between people of similar backgrounds, but there was in her manner a kind of stiffness which might be mistaken for arrogance. She never forgot about the marshalate; never did a gracious smile enliven the features of her austerely beautiful face. [...]

The Marshal finally arrived, his haste reflected in his heavy perspiration; out of breath, he sat down and, using his pocket handkerchief to wipe his forehead, he moistened it with saliva in order to more efficiently remove the dust from his face. This casualness, a bit too soldierly, contrasted sharply with the starchy demeanor of his wife; she was noticeably annoyed about it. Finding myself de trop in this silent scene, I rose and tried to take my leave, but I was enjoined to stay for a mid-day meal. While waiting for this to be served, we went a walk in the grounds... There were no paths, the lawn was covered with high grass ready to be turned into haystacks, the trees, cut down during the Revolution, were growing back as scrub; I left shreds of my dress's ruffles on each bush, and my lilac booties had taken on a greenish tinge. The Marshal encouraged us by voice and by gesture with the promise of a charming surprise!... What disappointment when, at the bend of a clump of stripling oaks, we finally stood in front of three small wicker huts! The Duke went down on one knee and exclaimed:

- "Ah! here they are... here they are!..."

Then, modulating his voice:

- "Pi... pi... pi..."

And at once a swarm of partridges began to flutter around the Marshal’s head.

- "Don't let the others go out until the youngest have returned, and give the ladies some bread... They are going to enjoy themselves like queens", he said to a roughneck who was the gamekeeper.

And there we were, under scorching sunshine, feeding partridges!

With unruffled and imperturbable dignity, the Duchess emptied the basket of bread she had been given. I, on the other hand, came close to fainting, and this being beyond my endurance, I pointed out that clouds were moving in and that a storm threatened.

[...]

Once we had finished eating, I left in greatest haste, swearing to myself that this visit would not be repeated.

(1) Savigny-sur-Orge [this note appears in the original text]

https://gallica.bnf.fr/ark:/12148/bpt6k5463019n/f278.item  pp. 229-234.

So there went the Countess’s pleasant visit, just not quite as pleasant as foreseen. I confess that I share her feelings about the spit-moistened handkerchief. And I too have been in the excruciating position of trying to make conversation when there is nothing to converse about. But she did not expect  to have her fancy dress shredded by unkempt scrub. All this while traipsing in uncomfortable booties ruined by grass stains, the reward for this being to witness Davout calling his partridges in a falsetto voice, and a final indignity, bringing her close to fainting (or was it the foot-pinching booties?): having to feed breadcrumbs to partridges, while being expected to have fun doing it. Pass the smelling salts.

The food must have been good, because she does not have a word of criticism about it. No word whatsoever about it, in fact. I suppose no artichokes were served.

My little finger tells me the Davouts were not sorry to see the back of her, unless her manners were so exquisite that she was able to feign delight through her visit. But then again there was this laboured conversation, so... no. They were glad she left.

[officalroyalsofpierreland]

Origin Part 5

Palais Royal Rouge | 15th Century

King Guy [in Purple]: You think you can push me around Conde? Let me remind you who is King! Duc de Conde [in Black]: And let me remind you who makes sure you remain King! The Kingdom is against you Sire. They wish to see the next viable candidate on the throne. And that is Le Duc de Bordeaux! King Guy: Violette...he is too common for the throne...it is not his to have...

Conde: Then let me take him out! You have yet to sire an heir with that blasted daughter of his-

Guy: I am not as young as I was Conde. Give me time

Conde: The more time you take, the stronger the Violette claim grows in the people.....Violette will turn the Kingdom against you.

Palais Courtyard | Same Day

Eleanore: You were right Richaud...it's Conde. He' s pulling all the strings Richaud: It is as I've feared....your father is smart for staying away from court...it's too dangerous for him

Leonide: You put him in that danger Brother. You have been stoking the flames of rebellion in the name of Violette! Richaud [kicks his brother]: Sorry Eleanore...my brother is talking nonsense Leonide: She needs to know Richaud...This is her ticket out. Eleanore: I don't understand...Richaud...what have you done?

Richaud: I have taken a step that your father refuses to make...he is the next candidate to be king if The King doesn't father a child....the people love your father and I have merely ran with it! Eleanore: You put my father in danger Richaud! Men are seeking him out to destroy him! Richaud: And I am asking you to help me destroy them before they destroy us.

Eleanore: You are asking me to commit treason! Richaud: You said you wanted out Eleanore...You never wanted this- Eleanore: there must be another way! Richaud: There are other ways....this is the only one where you are alive to see the end Eleanore. Now...can I trust you to keep quiet about this?

[woman-loving]

Lesbian Literature and International Networks in 1950s-70s Australia

Selection from Unnamed Desires: A Sydney Lesbian History, Rebecca Jennings, 2015.

I included two passages here, one about lesbian literature and the other about engagement with overseas lesbian magazines, namely the US The Ladder and British Arena Three. Both touch on how customs/censorship laws restricted lesbian connections. (Compare with the importance of media freedom for lesbian subcultures in Weimar Berlin; for more on how lesbians can be affected by anti-gay laws absent direct criminalization, see how lesbians were policed in 1950s-70s Sydney.) I also appreciated the description of how engagement with literature can be a form of lesbian expression.

For those women who lived discreet lives or who were unable to locate other lesbians in this period, literature and other cultural representations of same-sex desire played an important role in alleviating their sense of isolation. Novels with lesbian characters or themes enabled women both to find a language for their own desires and to realise that they were not alone. Their significance to women in this period is testified to by the frequency with which lists of lesbian literature appeared in early issues of lesbian and feminist journals. Although identifying and obtaining lesbian-themed literature could be problematic without the assistance of such lists, reading these works offered women the opportunity to engage with a discourse of same-sex desire without the risks of exposure inherent in reaching out physically to other lesbians. In an article entitled ‘On the Virtues of Remaining in Your Closet!’, contributed by ‘a gaygirl’ to lesbian and gay paper Campaign in the 1970s, one discreet lesbian drew on a rich array of cultural sources to reinforce her impassioned plea for the right to conceal her sexuality.[17] The author attached no personal details to the article and observed that she planned to ‘post this anonymously from a suburb I don’t live in’. Her family, she claimed, was hostile to homosexuality and unaware of her own same-sex desires, as were her friends and work colleagues. Nevertheless, she noted that ‘about the time I discovered I was gay, I read everything I could on the subject of homosexuality.’ The article demonstrated that, while maintaining a ‘closet’ identity in everyday life, she had been able to actively participate in a discursive lesbian and gay community through the medium of the press, the theatre and Campaign itself. In assembling her arguments, she referred to a letter to the editor of an Australian newspaper by a gay man; an article in Time Magazine entitled ‘Gays on the March’; and a performance of Peter Kenna’s play Mates at the Nimrod Theatre in Sydney. Her consumption of cultural representations of homosexuality had helped to shape her own sense of gay identity and community, and ultimately enabled her to enter into dialogue with that community without conflicting with the need for concealment.

In earlier decades, however, women’s need for such literature, and the difficulties of locating it, were correspondingly increased. The cultural imperative to silence desire between women and to conceal it from families and society at large was reinforced for much of the mid-twentieth century by the paucity of literary and media portrayals of the subject. Margaret commented that books were neither accessible nor relevant in her attempt to make sense of her same-sex desires in the late 1950s[...]. As Margaret noted, literary representations of desire between women were extremely limited prior to the 1970s and were rendered largely inaccessible by the difficulties of locating them. For working-class women such as Margaret, who had not been raised in a culture of reading, literature did not in any case represent an obvious source of information. Strict censorship laws further restricted access to such works in Australia.

The importing of books and written materials deemed indecent or obscene was banned under the Trade and Customs Act 1901, and thereafter many of the decisions regarding which titles should be banned were taken arbitrarily by individual Customs officials who seized books at the point of entry into Australia. In 1933, the Book Censorship Board (renamed the Literature Censorship Board in 1937 and ultimately disbanded in 1967) was established to consider those books which were deemed marginal or literary.[19] The presence of homosexuality as a theme was accepted as grounds for censorship and Nicole Moore argues that:

“Censors actively targeted the expression of same-sex desire, descriptions of gay, lesbian, bisexual, transsexual, and cross-dressed sexual practice, the elaboration of gay and lesbian identities as identities, agitation against restrictions on the expression of same-sex themes, as well as many other forms of meaning moving beyond a straight, reproductive model for intimacy and sexual life. Until late in the twentieth century, homosexuality was seen as a pornographic and perverted form of obscenity where present in literary or popular novels, avant-garde poetry or films of all kinds, magazines or postcards. From the earliest moments of government censorship in Australia, and increasingly as an explicit priority, the erasure of homosexual meaning from as many public fora and discourses as possible was achieved to a significant degree.”[20]

A number of notable lesbian novels were banned, several limiting the availability of literary representations of female same-sex desire. Radclyffe Hall’s controversial British lesbian novel, The Well of Loneliness, was banned in 1929, following its obscenity trials in the UK and US. Moore claims that Australian censors attempted to obtain a copy of the novel following its prohibition in England in 1928. However, they were unable to locate one as such copies as had been circulating in Australia had apparently been sent to England in the wake of the trail to be sold on the lucrative black market there. In the absence of a review copy, Customs officials banned it sight unseen on the basis of English law. The ban was lifted in Australia some time between 1939 and 1946, unusually prior to the UK release date of 1949. However, the absence of a high-profile obscenity trail like that which occurred in the UK, Moore argues, meant that lesbian identity was not publicly debated in Australia in the same way. [...] The secrecy surrounding The Well’s subsequent Australian release further limited its availability in Australia, where many booksellers remained unaware that it was now legally possible to order copies and offer the novel for sale. It was not until the mid-1960s that US lesbian pulp fiction, such as Tereska Torres’ Women’s Barracks, was allowed through Australian Customs and it was a further decade before the first Australian lesbian novel, Kerryn Higgs’ All That False Instruction, was published.[22]

Despite the difficulties of locating literary representations of female same-sex desire in mid-twentieth century Australia, however, some women clearly managed to do so. By the 1960s a number of international lesbian novels were officially available in Australia, but even a generation earlier, despite strict censorship, women were able to obtain a limited range of lesbian-themed literature. Beverley recalled buying a copy of The Well of Loneliness in ‘one of the big bookshops in Sydney’ immediately after the war while ‘C.P.’ told British lesbian magazine Arena Three about her experience borrowing the novel from a Sydney library in 1950[...]. In the 1950s, Georgie came across The Straggler by Danish novelist Agnete Holk.[24] The Straggler was passed by the Literature Censorship Board in 1954, and board member Kenneth Binns noted: ‘this is the first time, to my knowledge, that a novel dealing seriously with the subject of lesbianism has been submitted to the board.’[25] Even when women were able to locate lesbian-themed books in bookshops or newsstands, purchasing such a book often proved a challenge for women accustomed to a life of concealment. Kerryn Higgs recalled the difficulties a friend of hers had experienced in attempted to buy The Well of Loneliness:

“I remember a friend telling me the story that she was unable to buy The Well of Loneliness even though it had no subtitle [identifying it as lesbian] for she was afraid of what the cashier would think, so she pinched it instead.”[26]

Higgs was concerned that her publisher’s decision to append the subtitle ‘A novel of Lesbian Love’ to her own novel, All That False Instruction, would create similar obstacles for women who wished to obtain the book discreetly.

The impact of lesbian literature on women who had encountered few, if any, depictions of desire between women varied considerably. Deborah described her discovery of Violette Le Duc’s novel La Batarde in 1965 as a revelation, it being her first encounter with representations of lesbianism. [...] For Deborah, the experience had a profound effect on her understanding of her own sexuality. She recalled: ‘So I read the book, and then I thought “Wow! This is me, this explains how I feel.”‘[28] Other women, however, felt that literary portrayals of lesbianism simply reinforced broader cultural messages about silence and isolation. Laurie complained that the cheap paperback novels she read in the 1960s and early 1970s were ‘so depressing, there was never a happy ending. They [the lesbian characters] either got killed, or went straight and saw the errors of their ways and all that sort of shit.’[29] When Robyn told her mother that she was a lesbian in the early 1970s, her mother was concerned about the risk of loneliness and Robyn connected the fear with Radclyffe Hall’s novel, The Well of Loneliness[...].

When Kerryn Higgs’ semi-autobiographical novel All That False Instruction was published in 1975, its reception was an indicator of how much, and how little, had changed. Despite the author having been awarded a publisher’s prize to develop the book, when the lesbian content of the novel became known, familial disapproval and threats of legal action forced the publisher (Angus & Robertson) to delay publication and the author to publish under the pseudonym Elizabeth Riley.[31] Reviewers in the Melbourne Age and The Australian objected to the novel’s lesbian theme and its depiction of men. [...] However, the existence in 1975 of a flourishing feminist and gay press meant that the novel was also received into an appreciative political environment and it was widely reviewed in lesbian and feminist circles. Sue Bellamy, reviewing the novel for feminist journal Refractory Girl, described it as an ‘exceptional piece of work’. Her engagement with the novel derived to a considerable extend from her identification with the experiences of the lesbian central character and, by extension, the author. [...]

For lesbian readers, and particularly those outside of the feminist community addressed by Sue Bellamy, this familiarity could be a source of both comfort and discomfort. While for Bellamy and others, reading from the relative safety of 1975, the sense of shared experience was validating, the setting of the book in the different cultural context of 1960s New South Wales could be unsettling. Escaping a rural working-class upbringing, the novel’s heroine, Maureen Craig, wins a scholarship to attend university in Sydney, where she embarks on a succession of relationships with other women. however, social disapproval from home and at college constrains these relationships, prompting the women to conceal their feelings for each other. [...] Despite Maureen’s fantasies of escape, fear of exposure is ultimately too much for all three of Maureen’s lovers, who in turn abandon Maureen in search of social conformity. Her story reflected the experience of many women who desired other women in this period but whose relationships were constrained by the pressures of secrecy.

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

Early encounters with lesbian-themed literature and film afforded some women a point of introduction into a language and cultural framework for thinking about same-sex desire, but the passive and solitary nature of reading could also leave women feeling more isolated, with no one to discuss their impressions with. However, by the late 1950s the beginnings of an international homosexual movement offered new opportunities for Australian women to reach out to others and especially seek discursive lesbian networks overseas without revealing their same-sex desires to family and friends in Australia. Rachel recalled that in the early 1960s: ‘I think people were sending off subscriptions to American magazines even in those days’ and this is confirmed by letters which appeared in a number of overseas magazines from Australian readers.[45] The Ladder, produced by US lesbian organisation Daughters of Bilitis from 1956 onwards, clearly had an Australian readership. The magazine’s round-up of international news frequently referred to stories in Australian and British newspapers, which were derived from clippings sent in by an Australian reader, and from 1970 onwards letters and magazines were received from Marion Norman of the Melbourne Daughters of Bilitis chapter.

British lesbian magazine Arena Three also had at least two contributors from New South Wales and potentially many more subscribers and readers. First published in 1964 by Londoner Esme Langley with the support of three or four other women, Arena Three provided a combination of articles, sketches, news items and a letters page for ‘homosexual women’ readers.[46] In 1964, Kate Hinton contributed two articles, including ‘The Homophile Down Under’, which offered a sketch of lesbian life in NSW and reported on broader social attitudes to lesbianism in Australia.[47] The following year G Mackenzie of Sydney wrote a number of times, enclosing donations to assist the magazine in continuing its work. She congratulated the editor: ‘You are doing a wonderful service to homosexual women. I hope you can keep it going. I look forward each month to receiving A3 and only wish we had something like it out here.’ This, she felt, was an idle hope, and she complained: ‘I guess we are never likely to see an ad in or paper like those you put in “New Statesmen” etc. I guess our mob would have pups on the spot.’[48] Her wish was apparently echoed by other Australian subscribers as in July 1968 the editor advised readers that ‘two Australian girls have recently written from New South Wales to say that, inspired by the example of A3, they would like to start a publication in the Antipodes, and would like our expert advice.’[49] Perhaps discouraged by the rather disheartening advice offered by the Arena Three editor, they did not, however, start an Australian magazine.

For Australian subscribers in the 1950s and 1960s, American and British lesbian magazines offered opportunities to feel part of a lesbian community which were not available to them elsewhere. For some, they were invaluable in demonstrating the existence of other lesbians and the range of communities and identities which existed. [...] Letters often expressed the profound loneliness which women who were not pat of lesbian social network experienced in mid-twentieth century NSW. In 1958 Miss S. from Sidney [sic], Australia wrote to One magazine, based in Los Angeles:

“I know your magazine is not a lonely hearts magazine, but it seems my only hope. I am very unhappy. I’m desperate to write to a lady who will write to me. I am 26 and I don’t like men.”[51]

Seven years later, an Australian reader placed a classified advertisement in Arena Three stating, ‘Lonely Dutch migrant wants correspondence with lady 25/35 interested in migrating to Australia.’[52] while simply reading such magazines helped to alleviate the isolation engendered by the cultural silence around same-sex desire, some women saw these networks as a potential introduction to more personal and intimate relationships. They also provide occasional insights into existing social networks and their role in transmitting information. In 1970, an Australian reader enquired of The Ladder:

“I am twenty and my girlfriend (I’ll call her Sadie) is twenty-two. We have been sharing an apartment for a year, going to bars, and all that stuff. Yesterday a friend of Sadie’s asked her what I was like in bed. When she said I wore striped pajamas and slept like a log, the friend laughed. Now we think maybe we are missing out on something. Could you fill us in?”[53]

In the context of scarce cultural representations of lesbianism, it is possible to read this letter as evidence that overseas magazines provided an invaluable source of information, even to women who were part of a wider lesbian network in Australia. However, it is perhaps more likely that this reader, who was part of a more knowing lesbian subculture centred on public bars, was poking fun at the discreet representations of lesbianism typical of US and British lesbian magazines in this period, which avoided direct references to sexual activity between women out of a concern not to offend either the censors or a sensitive middle-class readership.

While overseas lesbian magazines offered a lifeline to women in mid-twentieth century NSW, as with other literary representations of same-sex desire, access was limited by strict censorship laws. Several Australian readers of One magazine, which catered to both homosexual men and lesbians in the 1950s and 1960s, complained that their copies had been seized by Customs, while readers of Arena Three experienced similar difficulties. Such seizures were apparently sporadic and often dependent on Customs building up a gradual awareness of the content of overseas journals. In September 1966, G Mackenzie of Sydney told Arena Three:

“I got Bryan Magee’s book, ‘One in Twenty’, but in a way I think it is a pity that he gives publicity to MRG and Arena Three, because I suppose that will be the next thing to be stopped by Customs out here.

I noticed after the ‘Grapevine’ came out for sale in Australia giving publicity to DOB and ‘The Ladder’, it was after that time that Customs started to confiscate my copies of ‘The Ladder’ --they didn’t seem to know of its existence before that. ‘The Grapevine’ was reviewed by Customs in late 1965, before it was allowed to be sold to the public, and in 1966 they confiscated my January and February ‘Ladder’ and have got 4 more since then. So the publicity for A3 was no good, as far as I am concerned.”[54]

G Mackenzie’s comment reflect the ambivalence felt by some lesbian readers in this period toward open discussion of lesbianism and lesbian communities. Although a degree of publicity was necessary to enable women to locate resources such as Arena Three, increased discussion carried its own risks. Letters to Arena Three and The Ladder in the 1950s and 1960s indicate that readers used these magazines in different ways. While some women undoubtedly read them in the privacy of their own home, as a means of seeking input from other lesbians without compromising their discreet way of life, others wished to be a more active member of a discursive community, contributing articles and letters in order to enter a dialogue with other readers. For others still, these magazines offered a potential route to a material community of other lesbians, which might be reached either by placing lonely hearts advertisements or by requesting information about lesbian social networks based in bars or private homes.

In 1968, the editors of Arena Three put two readers from NSW in contact with another from Melbourne, enabling the women to meet directly with each other.[55] A small number of Australian women also travelled to the US and Britain to participate in the social networks attached to lesbian magazines: In 1969 Arena Three thanked Rene Vi, an Australian woman who had been organising the magazine’s London social group, for all her work for the magazine, on the occasion of her return to Australia. The editorial team at that time also included another Australian, Carol Potter.[56] While these women lived for some time in the UK and became embedded in British lesbian social networks, other made contact with overseas lesbian groups while travelling. Margaret described a visit she made to the offices of the Daughters of Bilitis while on a trip to San Francisco in the early 1960s. Margaret was staying with friends on a naval camp, and these circumstances shaped her encounter with the Daughters of Bilitis women:

“[T]hey were in an office building, it was just their office where they published that magazine called The Ladder. And it was the third floor or something in an office building on Market Street, so I just thought I’d just go up there and see what was happening. But I was dressing in the manner befitting a visitor from abroad staying with a Lieutenant-Commander and his wife and I got there, introduced myself, I was from Australia and one little dyke said ‘Are you really a lesbian?’ I can see why she asked that question because I looked like some respectable housewife ... And then they said there were all sorts of events and dances and things and could I, would I go with them, but of course I could not, well unless I’d have to make some silly excuse and where would I say that I was going to my hosts?”[57]

Encounters with overseas lesbians could be positive and welcoming, offering openings into the vibrant lesbian subculture which existed in some cities in the US and elsewhere. On this occasion, Margaret felt unable to incorporate this social scene into the respectable parameters of her visit to a naval camp, but, on her return to Australia she did begin to explore the possibilities of lesbian bar culture in Sydney.

[tchoukiniste]

MA SEMAINE DU MAUVAIS GENRE

Jour 6. "Dune", Frank Herbert.

(Ici, la photo de l'édition Pocket noire, avec la couverture de Wojtek Siudmak, l'illustrateur attitré de cette collection dans les 70-80, édition noire que je possède, et que je ne prêterai JAMAIS, tant je trouve que c'est la plus belle, à rebours des suivantes, l'argentée-violette hideuse, ou les plus banales sorties depuis le début du siècle. Certains pourront me dire : mais il nous gonfle, avec ses éditions, l'essentiel, c'est le texte. Et je répondrai : oui, mais si les éditeurs se cassent la nénette pour dénicher le meilleur illustrateur pour les plus belles couvertures, c'est pas pour rien. Si la série du Livre Malazéen des Glorieux Défunts est un succès en fantasy, c'est tout autant dû au travail de fond des éditions Leha qu'au flair dont elles ont fait preuve en embauchant le très talentueux Marc Simonetti pour concevoir les superbes illustrations de couverture de chaque tome. Alors, certes, une belle couverture ne cachera pas la misère d'un mauvais texte, mais je vous fiche mon billet qu'elle aidera plus à le vendre qu'une couverture hideuse.)

Dune, donc. Après quelques billets sur des bouquins moins connus, écrire un petit commentaire sur Dune, on pourrait se dire que c'est inutile, tant c'est une œuvre connue, entrée dans l'imaginaire collectif, dont les thématiques ont diffusé dans le genre S.-F. depuis sa parution, en 1965. Mais je considère que c'est un livre essentiel, dans la perception du genre par un public beaucoup plus vaste que celui des aficionados : on pouvait donc lire de la S.-F. alors qu'on avait plus de quinze ans sans être un demeuré ? Mieux : une œuvre de ce genre à destination des têtes d'ampoule et des membres du club d'échecs du lycée pouvait être plus intéressante qu'un roman de blanche classique ? Révolution ! Ne riez pas : entre lecteurs de S.-F., on se répèrait vite, au lycée, dans les années 80. L'impression trompeuse de faire partie d'une société secrète (alors que ça se voyait à notre gueule, qu'on était bizarre). Le bizarre a muté en guique qui se fait tatouer Jabba le Hutt sur la fesse gauche : la démocratisation n'a pas que du bon, décidément.

Le futur, dans une centaine de siècles. L'homme a conquis l'espace, évidemment (nous sommes dans les années 60, c'est un horizon evident pour les hommes, en ce temps-là). Le système politique en vigueur est aristocratique : une vingtaine de Maisons se partagent des fiefs de plusieurs planètes. Les voyages interstellaires sont l'apanage d'une caste particulière, les Pilotes, qui grâce à une drogue particulière dans une cuve de laquelle ils baignent, peuvent plier l'espace et faire correspondre des points éloignés de plusieurs années-lumière les uns des autres en quelques secondes. Cette drogue est l'Épice, elle n'est produite que sur la planète Arrakis, aussi appelée Dune parce qu'elle est essentiellement couverte de déserts et d'une aridité effroyable. La Maison Harkonnen, qui avait pour fief cette planète, la perd au profit de la Maison Atréides. Le duc Leto Atréides, méfiant, n'en accepte pas moins le fief. Il décide de partir sur Dune pour diriger la transition, avec sa famille et ses affidés. Dans le lot, son fils, Paul, avant-dernier maillon d'une chaîne génétique mise au point depuis des siècles par un ordre sororal mystique, le Bene Gesserit. Mais la mère de Paul, Dame Jessica, a donné naissance par amour pour Leto à un garçon, au lieu d'une fille, comme les révérendes-mères le lui avaient ordonné, pour donner à la génération suivante le Kwisatz Haderach, l'Élu. Sans le savoir, elle vient de plonger en suivant ses sentiments plutôt que sa raison et son devoir l'humanité dans une ère incertaine.

Sur Dune, Leto se fait rapidement apprécier des Fremens, le peuple autochtone qui a subi le joug sévère des Harkonnen, en privilégiant la vie des ouvriers chargés de récupérer l'Épice au lieu du produit lui-même ; sa récolte à bord de moissonneuses géantes est difficile, car soumise à la menace de Vers des Sables géants qui surgissent parfois pour les avaler.

Mais, comme le redoutait Leto, la Maison Atréides est victime d'une conspiration visant à la detruire ; Paul et sa mère Jessica sont obligés de s'enfuir dans le désert où, considérés comme morts, ils devront s'adapter aux coutumes des Fremens qui les accueillent ; bientôt, Paul se rend compte que l'Épice, les Vers des Sables et les Fremens sont étroitement liés les uns aux autres ; et ses facultés extra-sensorielles exceptionnelles, alliées au pouvoir de l'Épice, vont bientôt faire de lui plus que le Kwisatz Haderach des Bene Gesserit : elles vont faire de lui Muad'Dib, le prophète des Fremens, leur chef de guerre... Et plus encore ?

Frank Herbert, avec "Dune", plonge le lecteur in media res : on est avec les Atréides, on suit Paul, le héros de cette histoire, au plus près. D'emblée, il faut bien reconnaître que le héros en question n'inspire pas une sympathie démesurée : froid, analysant dans cesse les rapports de forces, tactique par choix, stratégique par volonté, il suit son chemin mystique avec un égoïsme assez phénoménal malgré l'amour que lui portent sa mère et sa future femme, Chani, la fille de Stilgar, le chef des Fremens. Se servant sans vergogne des croyances fremens quant au Prophète chargé de les sortir de leur condition et de les emmener sur le chemin de la gloire, Paul-Muad' Dib se prend progressivement à ce jeu qui lui permet d'assouvir sa vengeance envers ceux qui ont fomenté le complot contre son père.

Ce roman regorge de thématiques : l'écologie, les pouvoirs de l'esprit humain (on apprendra au fil du roman que les machines ont été interdites depuis une guerre entre elles et les hommes, à la suite de ce que Herbert nomme le Jihad Butlérien — les ordinateurs ont été remplacés par des Mentats, des hommes à la capacité d'analyse et de synthèse prodigieuse), la génétique, le déterminisme, le syncrétisme religieux, la figure prophétique, les capacités d'adaptation extraordinaires de l'être humain, un féminisme étonnant pour l'époque, la balance entre civilisation décadente et frugalité performante, bref : de quoi discuter autour de quelques verres de vin pendant des heures avec ses amis.

Je me relis "Dune" environ une fois par décennie.

Ça tombe bien, ça va bientôt faire dix ans que je ne l'ai pas lu.

Je recommande, évidemment.

[la-princesse-de-conde]

Courte Histoire de la Princesse de Condé

Partie Seconde, suite 5

[...]

          Mlle d’Ayelle s’étonna de se voir demandée par le Roi, et elle fut reçue dans le même petit cabinet où, un an plus tôt, le jeune homme, alors duc d’Anjou, se liait d’amitié avec la princesse de Condé. Il expliqua à son invitée que la princesse était gravement malade,  retenue par son mari au château de Condé, et qu’elle voulait connaître les véritables sentiments de la demoiselle à son égard. Mlle d’Ayelle lui rappela la lettre lue à la Reine mère, qui était la preuve que les deux jeunes gens s’aimaient, et une violente jalousie envers le Roi s’empara d’elle à ce souvenir. Mais le douloureux ressentiment fut rapidement éteint par les raisons de cette demande, qui avait d’ailleurs été refusée. Le Roi avoua tout le stratagème à Mlle d’Ayelle et lui confia son inquiétude concernant la santé faiblissante de son amie, qu’il ne pouvait aller visiter à cause de la guerre civile qui faisait encore rage et qui l’accaparait.

          Mlle d’Ayelle se dépêcha d’écrire à la princesse de Condé toutes les excuses du monde et de la plus jolie manière. Sa passion lui inspira tout le lyrisme dont la princesse était digne, et elle glissa dans sa lettre  fleurs de violettes et pétales de lys.

          En ouvrant cette enveloppe gonflée par tout son contenu, la princesse de Condé se senti vivre de nouveau, comme la douleur infligée par sa passion était la plus grande cause de son mal. Les sentiments provoqués par sa lecture furent aussi puissants et eurent les mêmes effets en elle que la collision de deux astres ; l’événement semble destructeur, mais il a en réalité le pouvoir de créer un monde nouveau. Elle y répondit par l’expression de sa joie immense et de son soulagement d’avoir la preuve tant attendue de l’amour que lui portait Mlle d’Ayelle.

[...]

[elenakochneva]

Just amazing! Really love such a rich purple! Просто красиво, просто люблю насыщенный лиловый 😍💜 #Repost @hugues.mr (@get_repost) ・・・ Jeux de chaises musicales - XVIIIème sur fond de XIXeme Au premier plan, une chaise de Jean-Baptiste Boulard pour le salon des jeux du roi à Versailles . Au second plan, mobilier néo XVIIIe livré par Ternisien. Il s’agit d’une pièce des petits appartements de la Duchesse. À son retour d’exil, le Duc D’Aumale ayant perdu sa femme ferra tendre une soie violette de deuil dans toute la pièce. #chantilly #france #patrimoine #royal #sculpture #frenchdesign #XVIIIcentury #boiseries #gold #delorpartout #versailles #condé #bourbon #versailles #violet #chateaudechantilly #frencharchitecture #frenchinterior #frenchart #interiorgoals #photography #colors #XIXcentury #europeanroyalpalaces #ducdaumale #monarchiedejuillet #duchessedaumale # calcareous https://www.instagram.com/p/Bx4QW6zI7eu/?igshid=1eozk63dc3wli

[dknuth]

Toulouse & Carcassonne

This morning I took a train the one hour to Carcassonne. The attraction there is the ancient Cité de Carcassonne, a medieval walled city.

There aren't many medieval cities with their intact fortifications, especially not adsorbed into a larger city. The Cité of Carcassonne sits on a hill across the river from the modern city. The Cité has lost its defensive value by the 16th century, largely because it was no longer on a border. It's not easy living in a fortified town and gradually the Cité was essentially abandoned. In the early 1800's parts of the defensive walls were sold off as cut stone and used to build modern industrial buildings. It was proposed to demolish the entire town.

In 1845 the architect Violett-le-Duc became interested and promoted restoring the Cité as an historical monument. Between Violett-le-Duc and his students over the next 60 years the work was completed.

By the 1970's with tourism increasing Carcassonne became famous and saw vast number of visitors. The tourism is certainly responsible for the continued work to maintain the town, but it also means that it isn't really a town any more, but a tourist attraction. There do appear to be residents of the town, but mainly the owners of the many shops and restaurants I would think. Even in October there were large groups of tourists in town and the shops and restaurants were doing a decent business. It must be a madhouse in mid-summer.

Taking the train to Carcassonne I was near the Canal du Midi the whole time. In fact the canal passes in front of both train stations.

Renting a boat and cruising the Canal du Midi was on our to-do list for a long time, but it's never happened.

There's a great old bridge, now pedestrian only between the modern and ancient towns.

Then the fortifications are on the hill above.

One disadvantage of being on foot is that wandering around over large distances to find the best perspectives of the town is more than I wanted to do.

This aerial shot from wikimedia shows the town best.

It's always a little mind boggling to me to see the amount of defensive walls, towers and other fortifications compared to the size of the defended town.

You still enter through one of several gates.

There are two layers of walls separated by a wide open space with towers on both sets of walls.

Some of the towers and walls date back to the Roman period.

All of this did not stop Simon du Montfort from besieging the city and taking it during the Albigensian Crusade, claiming the city for himself and turning all the inhabitants out with only the clothes on their back.

A little pause here to reflect on the wars of the time where towns were conquered. By comparison to some of the other towns in the Albigensian Crusade and the cities in Central Asia where the whole population was massacred or sold into slavery, I guess this taking of all their property and leaving them alive was considered very civilized and "christian."

As an engineer the constructions are fascinating. The wars that created the need for all this work is depressing. We'd like to think the time is past when the desire to take another's property and lives because you disagree with their religion, or just because you want their land and property is enough to go to war with them, but clearly that isn't the case.

How much of our human efforts have been expended on war, preparing to defend from war, recovering from war. How much better off we would all be if that effort had been expended on productive endeavors.

The restoration done by Violett-le-Duc was quite extensive and well done, especially for his time. He had to make decisions as to exactly what period he was restoring to, as fortifications had been built and expanded over hundreds of years. Here are old photos of one area before and after his work.

He did some things for esthetics that would not be done today (and were frowned on by some at the time), such as the pointed tops of towers, roofed with slate instead of the local tile. But overall well done and ahead of his time.

I didn't see much else of interest in Carcassonne so took the train back to Toulouse in the afternoon.

There I visited the Basilique Saint-Severin a Romanesque style church a little older than the Gothic ones. The whole front of the church was swathed in scaffolding. But the side and the tower were still visible.

Inside the central nave was roped off for prayer, so I could not get close to the front of the church. With my vision that meant I really couldn't see what was above the altar until I got the photos on my laptop.

The church has a huge collection of the relics of saints I've never hear of. (Not that I am at all an expert on minor saints.) There were dozens of fancy casks surrounded by displays in gold and silver.

Nearby is the Musée Saint-Raymond, a museum of ancient relics (mainly Roman) from around the area. Most of it was fairly standard statues, caskets and architectural items, but there was a special exhibit on the Mithra religion. This was an Eastern Religion (think Persian) imported into the Roman world, with a lot of modifications.

Most of the descriptions were in French, and way too technical a French for me to labor through. But I got the general ideas and was familiar with the general history. What was interesting was some of the imagery that made its way into Christian imagery. In particular the portrayal of Mitra with light beams coming from his head. Doesn't this look familiar?

For dinner I decided I should finally have cassoulet, a famous dish from the area that I really like. But the restaurant that is particularly famous for it doesn't take on-line reservations and by phone in French is just too hard. So I went there at opening time of 7:30, and they were booked for the night, but I was able to get a reservation for tomorrow night.

So I went to a bistro in the area. Bistros seem to be less insistent on selling a set three course meal. There I got a wonderful salad with roquefort cheese and lardons, which was wonderful.

The square it was on was covered by tables from cafés and restaurants, full of people; most of them still just having drinks at 8:30.

[delfiris]

Si la musique est nourriture d'amour, joue encore, Donne-m'en à l'excès afin que, rassasié, Mon appétit languisse et meure. Encore cette mélodie, elle avait une cadence mourante: Oh ! elle m'a flatté l'oreille comme la douce brise Qui souffle sur un lit de violettes, Répandant le parfum qu'elle leur a dérobé. Assez, arrête; Maintenant ce n'est pas aussi délicieux qu'avant. Ô esprit de l'amour, comme tu es ardent et affamé, Ta voracité est immense Comme celle de la mer, et pourtant rien n'y entre, Quelle qu'en soit la valeur et quel qu'en soit le prix, Qui ne soit avili et déprécié En une seule minute ! Si plein de formes est le désir Qu'il est fantasmatique au suprême degré.

Shakespeare, La Nuit des Rois, Orsino (LE DUC) Acte I scène 1

[shouldihaveboughtyouflowers]

Ils ont refusé le début de RAVAGES !  C’est un assassinat. Ils n’ont pas voulu de la sincérité de Thérèse et Isabelle. (…) Je construisais un dortoir… un collège … un réfectoire … une salle de solfège … une cour de récréation … chaque pierre une émotion. Ma truelle aux souvenirs. Mon mortier pour sceller les sensations. Ma construction était solide. Ma construction s’écroule. La censure a fait tomber ma maison du bout des doigts (…) Elles s’aiment dans un collège pendant trois jours et trois nuits. Le sexe est leur soleil aveuglant. Elles se caressent. C’est leur religion. Leur enfer, c’est le temps. Leur temps est limité. Ce ne sont pas des femmes damnées. Ce sont des privilégiées. Elles échangent ce qu’elles ont trouvé. […] J’ai été atteinte en plein cœur. La société se dresse avant que mon livre paraisse. Mon travail est mis en pièces. Mes recherches dans la nuit du souvenir pour l’œil magique d’un sein, pour le visage, la fleur, la viande d’un sexe ouvert de femme. Mes recherches, une boîte vide à pansements. Ma ténacité, de la brise et du vent. La fraicheur d’une rose à trois heures du matin, c’était elles deux. Je racontais leurs postures, leurs allaitements. Mes cent cinquante pages ne sont pas malpropres. C’est ce qui a été.

Violette Le Duc

[lecoeurdelabime]

J'aimais Isabelle sans gestes, sans élans: je lui offrais ma vie sans un signe.

Violette Leduc, Thérèse et Isabelle

[nebuleuse-mirobolante]

Vive Douceur ! Ivre Douleur !

Je m'étouffe de toi et rougit violemment,dans ta splendeur si Violette .

Le Bleu astral plane sous le soleil et le Rouge s'y brûle les boyeaux et le corps  en cherchant à poignarder l'aurore .

Les magiciennes ont déchiquetée le temps pour en faire une clémentine mauve .

Les lampadaires se tordaient à en faire pâlir le ciel et le néant se parfumait de confiture turquoise aux milles mélodies fruitées. 

La nébuleuse rose bonbon hurlait le viol d'une comète .

Je me tordait de souffrance comme un ver de terre immolé et de ma torture abominable j'enfantait un rêve. 

 Je mutilait les nuits sombres qui me servaient de veines,le regard enfantin et doux de part sa violence sanguinaire et céleste.

J'ai avalée un pot de peinture Violette pour mourir de La Couleur et pas nimportequelle. 

Je me suis suicidée avec celle de l'absolu et j'ai plongée à jamais dans un nid de prose en criant adieu au soleil pour rencontrer l'éternité. 

Nébuleuse

Le Viaduc Violet abritait de brutes cris ,brodés à la cime Violente ,crépitant de sa flamme 

J'ai rencontrée mon âme quand on m'a voler mon corps ,dans la folie infâme et dans mes membres violés qui se tordaient .

J'ai vu la flamme des aurores en parlant à la mort qui dansait en string .

Il y avait Dieu ,le sexe et la sainte.

Il y avait la voyoue ,la folle et le cri .

Le temps tremblait et transpirait des cimetières où étaient enterrées les plus belles comètes.

J'ai 800 yeux et des lèvres qui chantent dans leur pupilles ,une peau de mutante et une haleine d'alien aux odeurs de météorite. 

J'erre dans la rue sous les regard accusateurs et je pue la chair tranchée aux poignards trempés dans l'acide .

D'ailleurs je pu tout court ,en avalant encore ce pot de peinture Violette pour tenter de crever et de mourir de Couleur .

C'est la seule chose qui nous rassemble en tant qu'humain ,la souffrance qui essaie d'atteindre la lumière et la puanteur du corps sans oublier le sang.

L'humain tente d'oublier sa nature putride,puante ,anarchique et bestiale .

J'aime enfin assumer ma folie ,mes cris et mon corps nu sur le carrelage avec mes grognements d'animal hystérique. 

Je prend un plaisir grandiose à m'enfoncer un doigt dans l'antre et baigner mes mains dans la cyprine divine ,fille de Dieu qui est punk.

Mon être est tordu comme une tour de pise et mes poils fleurissent sous mes aisselles pour en faire une jungle avec milles animaux psychédéliques en rute. 

Cela fait tant de bien d'acclamer que les pets puent dans les fesses des bourgeoises et des rois ,que leur sperme blanchâtre déborde parfois de trop dans leur pantalon.

Qui d'entre nous ne se cure pas le nez ou les fesses en proférant des insulte plus vulgaires qu'une testicule catcheuse et ventriloque ?

Le Viaduc se gratte les fesses devant les duc hypocrites et bourgeois. 

Il se suce les parties intimes en faisant des doigts d'honneurs à tout les rois .

Nous sommes le cri Violet de l'éternité, ce cri nauséabonde Rouge baigné dans la profondeur du Bleu céleste.

N'ayons point honte de la folie !

Acclamons là et brandissons là comme une mitraillette ou comme un poème devant le Soleil Mauve du chaos devenu liberté infâme !

Nébuleuse

J'aime profondément, ardemment ,à la folie le violet qui est mon cris tortionnaire à moi.

Le violet pour moi ,c'est un noir coloré une black color très différente ,avec bien plus d'élixir de vie mais toujours aussi dérangeante et foncée.

C'est mon concept fantasque

Je l'aime sous toutes ces formes, même difformes et sombres , car aussi sincères et plus brutales. 

Nous sommes enfaites la souffrance tortionnaire , tortueuse ,hideuse mais tantôt poétiquement merveilleuse et la joie de vivre immense et explosive de flamboyance affriolante et exaltée.

Le Orange est cette joie de vivre immense ,qui danse exubérante,enflammée,vivante de son aspect chaleureux et crépusculaire.

Le Violet est cette souffrance tortionnaire au couteau et goût d'amertume délicieuse et affreuse.

Mais pas que.

Le Orange est une part de masculin hippie et voyou quand le violet est plus féminin et doux mais violent à fois.

Enfaites le Violet m'ennivre autant que ce Orange caramel ,mangue ou flamme.

Les deux sont en moi ,sous cet arc en ciel de couleurs et mots enflammés ou limpides comme l'eau musicale et hallucinée d'un rêve psychédélique. 

Le violet c'est ce lien avec Dieu mais aussi avec les démons qui sont en nos êtres.

Le violet c'est la repentance ,la pardon ascétique ,la destruction chaotique ,le deuil qui amène vers une renaissance intérieur.

Mais aussi la douceur

Le violet c'est une fleur ,un parfum mystérieux et entêtant

Le féminisme et le surréalisme

Mais aussi la foi spirituelle

La rareté immaculée ou impure et sans piété

L'obsession presque passionnel ,le charnel 

L'insaisissable, le trou noir violent 

Le trouble touchant 

Le mystère planant dans l'éther  

La pudeur belle et sincère des vestiaires de nos âmes 

Ou la sensualité libérée des estuaires qui se touchent corps et larmes 

Un attentat a la décence, overdose de parme 

Le secret qui ne s'efface pas et le regret 

La torture, le murmure qui hurle 

La noirceur colorée ,l'hurluberlu 

L'alternatif ,le canif des cœurs 

Le marginal bancal ,l'original 

La profondeur, la terreur 

L'hypnose, la métamorphose osée ou la symbiose des fleurs 

Le psychédélisme ,le reste d'une candeur rose en bien plus mûre

Une forme de folie intense hors murs

La féerie et les rires des sorcières libres et sans parures

La magie ,la musique 

L'inadéquate, l'inopiné,l'inhabituel 

La mort dans le corps ou en dehors 

Le Divin et les ailes 

La prière dans les airs 

La préciosité , les préludes dénudées

Ou l'extraterrestre trop vêtue d'un coeur prude et de soupirs pieux 

L'exotique incompris ,les dunes de lavande et d'agapanthe parfumées 

Le rêve qui se lève pour embraser les champs d'iris

L'infinie ,le délice fleurie 

Le percutant effrayant et mirobolant 

La poésie impressionnante et son effet transcendant

L'artistique idyllique, iconique ,anormal ,animal ,bestial ,si beau et si psychotique 

L'anticonformisme ,le brut,le dadaïsme 

La délicatesse ,l'ivresse ou les deux 

La provocation née d'une passion 

Le pouvoir d'une Femme dont l'arme est la vulve,le regard ou la création 

Le glauque qui invoque 

Le sombre ,la ronde des pénombres

L'intensité instable qui combat l'idée de vacuité 

L'inoubliable, l'admirable

Le malsain,le malin 

L'humilité qui humidifie et réchauffe nos matins

La soumission devant l'Éternité divine

La beauté qui n'a aucun sens et sa révolte 

Les nébuleuses absurdes et merveilleuses 

Les potions magiques,les cœurs qui glissent ,la musique ,la poésie hérétique ou dévouée ,envoûtée, vers les voûtes qui auraient voulu voler dans ce violet violent mais enchanté 

Nébuleuse Mirobolante -Artiste

[ourmickeyymouse]

Sweet Flirt - Ghid episodul 32

Va sugerez sa folositi traducerea de la Google Chrome iar apoi va puteti ghida de aici. Verificati toate dialogurile, unele dintre ele duc la obtinerea imaginilor, chiar daca nu sunteti pe ruta acelui personaj.

Notite:

- Raspuns negativ / Raspuns neutru + Raspuns pozitiv

/ sau+ inseamna ca LOM-ul meu e la 100 deci rezultatul este ori neutru ori pozitiv

Daca un raspuns nu are un - , / , sau + , inseamna ca nu stiu rezultatul.

LOM: LOM-ul mic e in jur de 65 de puncte sau mai mic. LOM-ul mare este 65 si mai mult.

Puncte de actiune: 400-700, depinzand cat de norocos esti sa gasesti lumea.

Imagini: Sunt 4 imagini disponibile. O imagine este automata iar alta depinde de alegerea tinutei si de dialog. Celelalte doua depind de cealalta tinuta si de celalalt dialog. Si doar ruta lui Lysander va avea imagine disponibila.Un replay este necesar pentru a obtine celelalte imagini.

Notita: Pentru fiecare replay al unui episod de la episodul 28 si mai mult, vei fi redirectionat catre o pagina unde vei fi capabil sa alegi baiatul cu care vrei sa (re)joci episodul. Aceasta optiune este valabila pe web si nu pe aplicatia mobila. Aminteste-ti ca noua culoare a pielii (asta daca ai o alta culoare in afara de cea originala) nu este vizibila in imaginile episoadelor.

Notita speciala: Daca alegi tinuta intreaga (prima), in timpul episodului veifi nevoita sa-ti pui pe tine pijamalele de la episodul 23. Nu uita de sosete!

Zana: Ea poate fi gasita la intrarea in parc in timpul obiectivului: "Intreaba-i pe parinti sa o lase pe Rosa sa stea cu tine". Cadoul este o plasa de par.

Obiectul ascuns: Cheile lui Sweety  sunt gasite in Sala 2 a spitalului. (Ruta lui Lysander nu cere obiectivul de a gasi cheile.) Locatia obiectului ascuns -->

Bani:

Bilet de autobuz 10$ (Doua bilete de autobuz pentru ruta lui Lysander)

Tinuta:

Sweety

[Alegere]

A.  (De fapt, mi-e prea frica sa fiu surprinsa. Doar voi lua o sticla de apa si ma voi intoarce.) B.  (Cel putin imi voi suna matusa sa ma asigur ca mama este acolo. Sper ca nu voi da de banuit.) C.  (Se pare ca norocul este de partea mea) / (Baietii vor fi invitati in camera lui Sweety)

[Alegere] Raspunsul corect este ingrosat.

A.  1234 B.  2211 (Ziua lui, 22 Noiembrie) C.  0203

[Alegere]

A.   (Stiu ca lui Capucine nu ii pasa de mine dar nu o pot lasa singura in asta, nu este corect.) / (Imaginea cu Capucine si Peggy) B.   (In orice caz, refuz sa fac parte din asta. Nu sunt in dispozitia necesara sa le infrunt pe acestea trei. In special sa apar pe cineva precum Capucine.) /

Nathaniel

Dar mama mea s-a decis sa ma viziteze..

A.  Sper ca totula mers bine... B.  Trebuie sa fi fost o atmosfera incordata… + C.  V-ati impacat?

Castiel

Esti amuzanta. Cumas putea stii mai mult decat tine?

A.  Pentru ca esti prietenul lui cel mai bun! + B.  Pentru ca esti mai apropiat de el! / C.  Pentru ca tu nu ai amnezie! -

(Incepi discutia)

A.  De ce nu l-ai adus pe Demon? / B.  Deci.. Lucrurile merg mai bine cu parintii tai? - C.  In orice caz, nici nustiu unde locuiesti... Este departe? +

Lysander

Buna...

A.  Ce mai faci? Sunt ingrijorata, sa stii.  + (Te apropii de imaginea lui Lysander; doar ruta lui Lysander) B.  Astazi iti amintesti de mine? C.  ISunt aici sa-i iau locul Rosalyei.

Am dreptate?

A.  Da, ai dreptate. / B.  Nu vad de ce ai spune asta. C.  Nu e nimic special de stiut.

Am cateva temeri...

A.  Poate inca nu esti pregatit. - B.  Vrei sa te las?  / C.  Nu te speria. Nu esti singur.  /

Kentin

Daca as fi fost in scoala militara pentru nimic, m-as fi simtit foarte prost.

A.  Credeam ca esti fericit ca ai fost in scoala militara. B.  Nu ai mers pentru nimic. Uita-te cum te-a ajutat sa evoluezi. C.  In orice caz, niciodata nu mi-ai spus cum au decurs lucrurile acolo.

Cu cat trece mai mult timp, cu atat mai mult ma enerveaza! Nu ii pot suporta cum ma injoseste!

A.  Hei, nu tipa la mine. Nu e vina mea.  + B.  Calmeaza-te, nici macar nustiu despre ce vorbesti...  - C.  Ce anume ti-a facut, mai exact?   /

Armin

Am reusit sa obtin ceea ce am vrut de aceasta data si sa aleg singur.  

A.  Te-ai descurcat bine! Arata foarte bine pe tine.  + B.  Trebuie sa marturisesc ca te placea mai mult inainte… /

(Incepi discutia)

A.  Nu te deranjeaza sa stai pe afara? – B.  Deci, dau roade eforturile tale? + C.  Ai facut ceva special noaptea trecuta, dupa ce ai fost la cumparaturi? /

(Incepi discutia)

A.      Ce faci? - B.      Ce incercai sa ascunzi??  + C.      Scuze, te deranjez?

Iris

(Incepi discutia)

A.  Chiar esti o persoana grozava, Iris. Stiu ca Lysander va aprecia ca vei vrea sa il vezi.  + B.  Cum de esti asa de draguta cu toata lumea? / C.  (Nu spune nimic.)

Priya

Scuze ca am stricat atmosfera.

A.  Nu-ti cere scuze, nu putem vorbi mereu despre lucruri fericite. / B.  Da, chiar nu e confortabil.  - C.  O vad mai mult ca pe o ocazie de a te cunoaste mai bine. +

Da, dar am dat-o in bara cu exercitiul culorilor. Imediat cum e vorba sa tin o pensula sau un creion, sa desenez, nu pot face nimic.

A.  Nu poti lua lectii cu Violette? / B.  Nu putem fi buni la tot. – C.  Sunt sigura ca vei progresa rapid. /

[Alegere]

A.  …Nu-i rau. B.  …Foarte surprinzator. C.   …Stanjenitor.

Deci, sper ca ai pus capodopera mea in camera ta!

A.  Da, desigur! Parintii mei chiar apreciaza tehnicile creionului.   / B.  Haha uh, nu…. Dar o sa o pun in dulap!  + C.  Doamne Dumnezeule, cat de jenant!  -

Rosa

(Notita speciala: Daca dai de Rosa inainte sa mergi la spital NU te duce cu ea laspital sa il vezi pe Lysander. --> Te apropii de imaginea lui Lysander; ruta lui Lysander.)

Refuz sa cred ca este la fel de ciudat precum Amber si Charlotte afirma ca este!

A.  Ei bine, este adevarat ca el pare tanar si look-ul sau este...original.  / B.  El arata dragut, cel putin asta cred. In orice caz, niciodata nu am vazut-o pe Capucine asa de buna cu cineva! / (Te apropii de imaginea Rosalyei) (Trebuie sa cumperi lenjeria rosie pentru imagine) C.  Cu siguranta nu este genul meu, dar stii ce se spune...Gusturile nu se discuta.

(Incepi discutia)

A.  Ar trebui sa dormim. Este tarziu si maine avem ore.   / B.  Pari extenuata. Vrei sa iti fac o cafea? C.  Faptul ca vorbim despre viata amoroasa a lui Amber te plictiseste asa de mult? / (Imaginea Rosalyei)

Vrei sa raman? Cred ca nu vrei sa stai singura aici.

A.  Nu. (I-am raspuns cu un ton dur.) / (Te apropii de imaginea lui Lysander; numai ruta lui Lysander) B.  Da, daca vrei...

[Alegere]

A.  (Ignor-o.) B.  (Uita-te in ochii ei.)  / (Posibil imaginea lui Lysander?)

Capucine

Este amuzant cu toate aceste discutii despre culori, cateva picturi arata ca niste poeme.

A.  Nu are niciun sens. / B.  Asta este o comparatie draguta! - C.  (M-am uitat la ea, socata.) +

Delanay

Ai fost acolo in timpul accidentului deci credeam ca stii mai multe.

A.  E-Eu am fost sa il vad, da... I  / B.  Am fost acolo din intamplare.  /

Amber

La ce te uiti?

A. La nimic… (Am preferat sa imi vad de drum.) / B.  De ce te intereseaza? / C.  La tine. Este ca o show permanent.  -

Melody

Ei bine,daca este la fel de tanar pe cat spune Amber ca este, poate ca ei i-a fost rusine sa recunoasca.

A.  Poate esti geloasa?  - B.  Sau poate a vrut sa tina doar pentru ea... Cateodata sunt secretete pe care nu vrem sa le spunem nici celor mai apropiati prieteni. + C.  Nu stiu nimic.  /

Deci ,cam asta a fost si cu episodul 32! ^.^ Raspunsurile, imaginile si indiciile din episod NU imi apartin! Sunt luate de pe tumblr-ul lui Candy in Love. Eu doar am tradus toate raspunsurile! Ne vedem cat mai curand cu episodul 33! ^.^

[officalroyalsofpierreland]

Origin Story Part 2

Palais Royal Rouge | 15th Century

King Guy [in black]: Le Duc de Bordeaux Everett Violette, Duke of Bordeaux [in purple]: Your Majesty

King Guy: It is time for me to find a bride once more worthy to bear my heir. You have a daughter, do you not? Violette: I do sir. My only child...my pride and my joy. King Guy: Beautiful. A virgin I presume- Violette: Of course! She has been promised to Le Duc de San Simon....Richaud Valois-

King Guy: Not anymore. Violette: Sir? King Guy: I choose her to be my bride. I trust you will have her here within the fornight.

Violette: But Your Majesty- King Guy: See it be done Violette....or it is your family's heads.