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cogentranting · 5 years ago

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The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes and Mockingjays and Roses

*Warning: Full Spoilers for The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes*

Symbols are an important part of The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes. Symbols are used to mark the identities of different characters, define relationships, and provide thematic links to the original trilogy. The symbols work to create a tension in the story, a question of whether they complement or contrast. Symbolism is used to explore two of the most influential people in Snow’s life: Lucy Gray and Katniss.

The various symbols associated with Lucy Gray are color, music, and birds. Each of these things plays a special role in the story and serves to distinguish her from Coriolanus. In a typical setting, love interests with different symbols could be understood to show how they complement each other-- opposites attract, two halves of a whole, etc. This novel lets the reader play with that interpretation for a large portion of the book; the story questions the relationship between them, wondering repeatedly how strong, or even how genuine, their love is. Ultimately, however, the contrasting associations sets them up for their final conflict and foreshadows the eventual destruction of both of them.

At the first sight of Lucy Gray, she is in a “dress made of a rainbow of ruffles” (24). In her first interview she says “the Covey love color” (53). The Covey are all named with colors. Lucy Gray wears bright colors at all times. The snakes which end up being drawn to Lucy Gray in the arena are bright neon colors. The colors represent her exuberance, her love of beauty, her eccentricity, her freedom to stand apart. But Coriolanus is white. The absence of color, the opposite of all that Lucy Gray loves and represents. However, this symbol for Coriolanus is not prominent in this book. In fact it only really exists in this book in the form of his last name-- Snow. Even that is not the name he goes by. But it is the name that forms his connection with the Capitol and all that it represents: Dr. Gaul calls him by his last name; the Capitol media makes frequent plays on his name; he is associated with the legacy of his family name; in the peacekeepers he is officially addressed as “Private Snow”. It’s also used as the voice of his ambition in the phrase that he and Tigris use, “Snow lands on top” (9). Eventually, when his character arc is complete and he has embraced evil, he switches to going by his last name, as the Epilogue exclusively refers to him as “Snow”. However, to fully grasp that a part of the symbolism of his name relates to the color white requires knowledge of the Hunger Games trilogy. There Snow is represented by his white roses. The roses are present in this book, but they are colored roses. Therefore, Coriolanus being symbolized by white is not a constant in The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes, it’s a progression. It is Coriolanus turning against what drew him to Lucy Gray. While the progression is ongoing, the decisive moment comes when Lucy Gray uses the bright orange scarf he gave her to set a trap for him (or at least so he assumes) (581). The shift is there as he is “betrayed” by Lucy Gray’s colors, and the fulfillment is present in the person of President Snow in The Hunger Games. By knowing the trilogy, the reader knows Coriolanus’s future and can see that he eventually eschews color, choosing the stark white which here sets him apart from Lucy Gray, but will also inevitably mark the violent contrast between him and the Girl on Fire.

The second hallmark of Lucy Gray is her love of music. Her singing is her survival. It’s how she earns her living in District 12. It’s what unites her with her family. It’s how she expresses her emotions. It’s how she attracts attention at the Reaping and how she gains enough favor to win the Games. Coriolanus does not start out opposed to music. In fact, it initially attracts him to Lucy Gray, especially since one of her songs she sings in the Capitol awakens memories of his mother and a song she sang to him that “mentioned loving him” (78). Music is associated with his mother on several occasions, and his mother is the figure who most represents love and goodness for Coriolanus. When asked how he is like his mother he replies that they “shared a fondness for music” but also internally admits to himself that “she liked music, and he didn’t hate it, he guessed” (290). Despite his positive associations with music and his connection with people who love music (his mother, Lucy Gray, and also Pluribus), Coriolanus himself does particularly like music and doesn’t really understand it. He notes that he “can’t really sing” and when he sings the anthem “his singing was more like sustained talking” (127, 129). Beyond lacking talent, it seems that music and poetry are something that he cannot grasp; all the Capitol’s songs “sounded the same to him”, and Livia Cardew mocked him for “his inability to decipher the deeper meaning of a poem” (185). This extends later into the novel when he specifically fails to grasp the meaning of Lucy Gray’s song, which he describes as “nonsense words” and “ridiculous” because he “couldn’t make sense of it” (425, 427). Coriolanus has an inability to understand something that is an essential part of Lucy Gray which represents a failure to connect to her on a deeper level. It also distances him from those characters who demonstrate positive moral character: Lucy Gray, his mother, the generous Pluribus, and Sejanus (who Coriolanus notes had “always been good at rhetoric” (427)). Livia Cardew attributes this to Coriolanus being “self-absorbed” (185). The presentation of this trait within the book represents his moral failings and his rejection of the Romanticism which defines the Covey and the philosophical rhetoric of the Rebels and Sejanus. This puts him at odds with all that the novel holds up as praiseworthy. His attitude toward music only worsens as the book progresses and he finds that he is “weary of the infusion of music into his life. Invasion might be a better word” (445). He feels the way it pushes him away from others and threatens his position. But the significance of the music does not stop with the concept in general.

The novel features the lyrics of multiple songs. Lucy Gray’s ballad is notable for the way it describes her mystery, how it shows Coriolanus’s failure to truly understand or appreciate her, and how it foreshadows his hand in her destruction. However, as he brings about her destruction, she has a hand in his eventual destruction. Lucy Gray is revealed to be the writer of the two songs from the Hunger Games trilogy-- “Deep in the Meadow” (“Rue’s Song”) and “The Hanging Tree”. “Deep in the Meadow” has less prominence in this book. The context is essentially the same-- Lucy Gray sings it as a lullaby to Maude Ivory in the same way that Katniss sings it to Prim and Rue-- so it carries the same weight initially. It is a symbol of peace and comfort and love. These are things which are mostly denied to Coriolanus and things which he rejects by the end of The Ballad, and actively seeks to destroy in The Hunger Games. However, it is eventually used against him, as Katniss’s use of the song-- her gesture of love for Rue-- is what causes the first sparks of rebellion to rise up in District 11. “The Hanging Tree” plays this role to an even greater extent. Lucy Gray writes the song about a moment that Coriolanus is present for and deeply disturbed by (350-351). The song is, on one level, about doomed lovers. Within the song you have Arlo and Lil-- two Rebels whose fate is mourned and romanticized, and whose doom Coriolanus has a hand in, already casting him in the role of antagonist. However, there’s also the speaker in the song. At one point in the narrative, the speaker is Billy Taupe calling to Lucy Gray. With him in the role of speaker the love story of the song is poisonous-- when they can’t be free together, Billy Taupe wants her to die rather than be free without him (487). After his death, the song transfers to be a call from Lucy Gray to Coriolanus. However, his character is entirely antithetical to the song. He rejects the dark romanticism that makes star-crossed lovers appealing, and rather than being willing to “wear a necklace of rope side by side with” Lucy Gray, he tries to kill her, betraying her and everything she and the song stand for. The song could also be applied to another pair of star-crossed lovers-- Katniss and Peeta. In their Games, Peeta tried to save her life-- “called out for his love to flee”-- then they try to survive together-- “I told you to run, so we’d both be free”-- and when that hope is lost they are prepared to die together-- “wear a necklace of rope, side by side with me”-- in order to deny the Capitol its victory and its ownership over them. Despite being the only couple without a literal connection to the Hanging Tree (and being a fake couple at the time of their actions) Katniss and Peeta most truly embody the spirit of the song, which Lucy Gray calls “too rebellious” (491). The song is meaningful on a broader level because it subverts the symbol of the Hanging Tree, which is meant to be an instrument for the Capitol’s control, and turns into a symbol of love and hope for freedom and resistance that would rather die than submit to the Capitol. Katniss later takes this song and transforms it into an anthem for the rebellion. In fact, it’s compared by Lucy Gray and Coriolanus to the Capitol’s anthem, saying it “has authority” like “when [Coriolanus] sang the anthem in the Capitol” (491). Katniss gives it the platform to be the rival anthem that it was destined to be, and she uses it to attack Snow. Lucy Gray haunts Coriolanus through the Hunger Games trilogy through her songs. These songs which are all that remains of the girl he betrayed and destroyed, come back as weapons against him, brandished as symbols of all that he and his tyranny stand against.

Beyond her general association with music, Lucy Gray is associated with birds. Her musical nature makes her a songbird like that of the title and her family is deemed “the Covey”-- covey is a word which means “a small party or flock of birds”. The way she is continually conscious of her appearance early in her time in the Capitol evokes a bird preening, as the ruffles of her brightly colored dress evoke feathers. Coriolanus ends up dealing with birds through his work as a peacekeeper, rounding up jabberjays and mockingjays. While his team member shows an affinity for birds, Coriolanus does not. He specifically notes that while some people “just understand birds” he is certain “that he would never be one of those people” (413). In an immediate sense, this once again signals a distance between him and Lucy Gray. She is a bird that he can never understand. In contrast, Lucy Gray has an affinity for snakes. The clearest counterpart for snakes is Coriolanus himself. His use of poison in this book and the Hunger Games trilogy creates the suggestion that he is venomous (especially when the evidence of his poisoning is found in the sores in his mouth). Dr. Gaul also breeds deadly snakes in the same way that she grooms Coriolanus into the man he becomes. Her snakes ignore him as if he is one of them. And Lucy Gray “always knows where [snakes] will be” (433). She uses her understanding of snakes to her advantage, dropping one down Mayfair’s dress, leaving one as a trap for Coriolanus, and poisoning Treech with one. The snakes in the Games end up drawn to her and soothed by her singing. Coriolanus is drawn to her and her singing in the same way, and likewise is used by her to win the Games. Lucy Gray seems to understand Coriolanus in a way that he can never understand her. However, she may have confused him for one of the non-venomous snakes from District 12, rather than a snake specifically bred to kill by Dr. Gaul. Or perhaps she subconsciously knows the truth about him since she states, “I love all kinds of things I don’t trust… snakes. Sometimes I think I love them because I can’t trust them” (441). Regardless of how his role of a snake attracts Lucy Gray, her role as a bird creates tension with Coriolanus. The wildness of the birds unsettles him. He expresses the belief that they’d be happier in a cage, but both Bug and Lucy Gray believe the birds should be free (418, 421). It reflects Coriolanus’s relationship with nature in general. It cannot be controlled and so he dislikes it. When he first sees the woods he is afraid of them; “the disorder alone felt disturbing” (348). This is a stark contrast to both Lucy Gray, who frequents the woods with the Covey, and Katniss who thrives in the woods. In similar fashion, the plant that Katniss is named for, and which aids in Lucy Gray’s survival (435, 497) grows wild, while Coriolanus’s signature flower, his roses, are domesticated and highly cultivated. Coriolanus likes only what he can control. It’s when he realizes that he cannot control Lucy Gray that he turns on her. This distinction takes on further relevance in his specific response to the jabberjays and the mockingjays

Coriolanus appreciates the jabberjays because they can be controlled easily with a simple remote control. Mockingjays, however, represent the uncontrollable. His reaction to them is immediate: “he’d spotted his first mockingjay, and he disliked the thing on sight” (352). Later he advocates killing all the mockingjays because “they’re unnatural” and “he distrusted their spontaneous creation. Nature running amok” (417). Lucy Gray on the other hand loves the mockingjays. When the mockingjays take up her song “the Covey were all smiles” and Tam Amber asserts “like sandstones to diamonds, that’s what we are to them” (439). Here Coriolanus expresses that what he fears most is that the mockingjays have removed “the Capitol birds from the equation” (439). He deeply believes in the need for the Capitol to maintain control, so something that openly flouts the need for the Capitol’s influence is both frightening and a threat to the beliefs that define him. Coriolanus eventually uses the jabberjays (a symbol of Capitol control) to betray Sejanus. In return, Lucy Gray uses the mockingjays to protect herself from Coriolanus as he hunts her (504). If she survived the encounter, it is because of the mockingjays. With his transformation into Snow complete, he is able to return to the Capitol. When he looks back on his time in District 12, he views Lucy Gray not as a lost love but as a conquered threat. Because Lucy Gray was someone he could not control he repaints her in his memory as someone who manipulated him and made him feel jealous and weak (516). But with his new power Snow is assured that “she and her mockingjays could never harm him again” (516). The memories have been twisted to associate Lucy Gray with mockingjays and in turn with harm done to him, though neither has ever actually harmed him. However, knowledge of the Hunger Games trilogy reveals the clear irony of his statement. Katniss uses the mockingjays to help her in the Games and makes them a tool for herself. They then become a symbol of the rebellion for the very reason that he initially hated them. Katniss comes to embody the things that mockingjay symbolizes and she and that symbol are the rallying point for the rebellion. Because of the Mockingjay that he can never predict, understand or control, everything Snow is and has built is destroyed.

Lucy Gray is a vibrant character that tempts Coriolanus toward a better life and a better way of being. Everything about her symbolizes a potential for good within him in his early years. However, he fully and irrevocably rejects that good. In doing so he commits his first great sin and destroys Lucy Gray. But he is unable to entirely destroy her. In fact, he’s never even sure if he killed her. Instead, she stays on as a ghost girl, her influence haunting District 12. From her influence rises Katniss, the Girl on Fire, like a phoenix rising from the ashes of the songbird Snow killed. Katniss is symbolically linked to Lucy Gray, but at the same time wholly distinct. Through her, Lucy Gray haunts Snow as punishment for his crimes. This link between the Songbird and the Mockingjay represents the way that Snow’s evil paved the way for his own destruction, but more importantly it shows that the things which he rejects and opposes and tries to kill cannot be destroyed. The spark of hope cannot be put out, beauty will not be tamed, and rebellion cannot stay dead in the face of tyranny. Those things were always destined to destroy him. Though The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes may end with “Snow lands on top,” Lucy Gray is the persistent reminder that “The show’s not over until the mockingjay sings.”

#the ballad of sonbirds and snakes #the hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes spoilers #coriolanus snow #lucy gray baird #katniss everdeen

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amethystroselilith · 4 years ago

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Intertwined Fates (Chilumi/Zhonglumi) - Chapter 1

Can be read in ao3 here

This chapter has a really small bit of mentioning ScaraMona (While I don’t ship them that much, I like how people write their little dynamic)

SUMMARY: After 5 years, Lumine had finally adjusted to her new life...

5 years…

5 years ago when she lost Zhongli

5 years ago when her world shattered

Lumine slowly opened her eyes as she felt an insistent poking on her cheek, vision blurry until her golden eyes met with wide magenta eyes.

“Qiqi, what’s wrong?” she asked sleepily, judging from her surroundings it’s still in the middle of the night.

“Can’t sleep.” she simply said, “Mama, play. Let’s play.” she pouted as she tried to shake her mother awake.

The blonde woman sighed, glancing at the digital clock on the bedside table, 2:30 am.

“Qiqi, it’s a bit too late for playtime, why don’t we sleep and play in the morning? Mama has no work, so we can play all you want.” Lumine smiled, however, regretted it when Qiqi’s eyes grew more excited.

“Then play now! More time to play with Qiqi.” the purple-haired girl awed, “Mama, please, Mamaaa…”

“Qiqi, please… Mama’s still a bit tired.” she sighed, guilt filling her immediately when sadness glazed over her daughter’s eyes.

Lumine was about to give in until she felt a pair of arms snaking around her waist, warmth on her back, and ginger hair tickling her face, “Hm? What’s happening here?” he tiredly asked though she can feel the smile on her face.

“Papa! Mama’s gonna play with Qiqi.” the young girl smiled.

5 years ago when Ajax started picking up the broken pieces…

“Isn’t it a bit late, princess?” Ajax chuckled as he sat up to pick up the child and settled her on his lap, “Mama’s still a bit tired though, and it is way past your bedtime and way too early for you to be up.”

Lumine rolled over to watch the most important people in her life.

2 months ago when she fully got herself back together to start a new chapter with Ajax together with their daughter.

She watched Ajax convince Qiqi why they should go back to sleep, words didn’t really register in Lumine’s brain for it had gone to wander on the memories from the past 5 years.

~~~

“Lumi, it’s time to eat,” Ajax said as he entered the room carrying a tray of food.

“Not hungry,” Lumine answered, unmoving and staring blankly at the wall.

The man sighed, “Lumi, please.” he said as he placed the tray on a nearby table before walking to the bed, “You haven’t eaten much earlier.”

“Just leave me alone,” she said, voice cracking just like her heart.

It was three days after the funeral and Lumine can barely take care of herself, her twin and Ajax had mostly been taking care of her, Aether being the one responsible for the formal papers related to Zhongli’s death as well as running their bakery, together with his brother in law, Xiao, who is also grieving for losing his only kin.

Lumine can’t help but admire how he could still function while she barely even have the energy to move from her current position. And that thought just made her feel worse.

“Lumi…” Ajax called quietly as he watches the familiar trembling of her shoulders.

And that’s how it usually goes, Ajax climbing next to her and hugging her tight, giving as well as seeking comfort as he quietly let the tears slide down his own eyes.

A month later, Lumine began taking care of herself again, telling herself that she needs to take proper care of her unborn daughter, their little Qiqi, the name was random, to be honest, she and Zhongli are trying to come up with a name by blurting out random names they can think of. The name came from Zhongli, it was a completely random name, but it was the one that grew on them as days passed by trying to name their daughter.

Qiqi came a bit earlier than they expected. Lumine was in their bakery, trying to fall back into a routine without mourning for her husband’s death. Aether and Xiao have provided a good support system at work, even Ajax stops by during his break from work.

Ajax, who had also picked himself together, even getting promoted in a powerful and influential company called Fatui, as one of the 11th Harbingers, the youngest who had been given the position.

Ajax, who stayed true to his word by being Lumine’s side, supporting her in every way he can.

Ajax, who freaked out so much when Lumine’s water broke, Aether had to slap him to get him to focus.

Welcoming Qiqi to the world, was life-changing for Lumine. She expected that to happen, but with all the tragedy the transpired, it just felt so different. It’s as if she was reborn with new hope and dreams.

So she worked hard for them. Worked hard until their bakery, Emergency Sweets, gained popularity. She won’t lie, she has a huge feeling Ajax pulled some strings, but customers don’t just stay for pretty words on an article, they stay for the twin’s speciality; Pie Mon, a fairy shaped dessert that would magically satisfy your sweet cravings.

Lumine’s life was bright again as she raised her daughter.

And so is Ajax’s…

He didn’t know why, and he certainly doesn’t even have to, but he never stopped himself going straight to the twins’ place where Aether had welcomed her sister back, every after work.

Never stopped himself helping Lumine raise Qiqi.

Never stopped falling in a domestic routine with Lumine.

Never stopped the feelings growing back in his chest.

Never stopped himself leaning into a kiss after a particular emotional dinner.

They had a fight months ago before they got together, they don’t even remember what it is nowadays but Ajax could remember how he never stopped deepening the kiss.

Or how he never stopped the night from going to be one of the most passionate night he ever had.

It was wrong, it felt all so wrong, but at the same time felt right.

For the first time in forever, Ajax felt like he had finally come home.

The day after that was a flurry of emotions for them, the guilt loomed on them. Both distancing themselves for a while until Ajax just had enough.

It felt fucked up, but Ajax can’t help but crave for that feeling again. The feeling of being in her arms, the feeling of sharing and receiving something so intimate, the feeling of being loved back by the woman who had always been so close yet feel so far.

Ajax was mad at himself for having feelings for his best friend’s wife. But what can he do? He’s tired of wanting something he can’t have, and now that it looks like he has a chance, it was hard to control the desperation in his heart.

It felt fucked up, but Ajax knows he can take the responsibility well. That he can give them the best life they could ever want, that he’ll protect them with all his life.

It felt fucked up, but Ajax selfishly gave in the thought.

It wasn’t all easy on Lumine’s side.

Her feelings are a mess, guilt from sleeping with someone else but Zhongli, but at the same time her feelings coming into terms that Ajax is also someone very special to her.

She had been feeling something different every time she sees Ajax. The same fluttery feeling she felt when she sees Zhongli before, the same feeling of longing when he’s gone.

Aether had felt something was off, he is her twin after all. He listens as Lumine poured her heart out, wiped the tears she shed, just like he always had, and always will.

And like the great brother he is, he lifted Lumine’s chin to look at him, he smiled, “Let your heart lead you to your happiness, Lumi. I’m sure Zhongli would want to see you happy.”

And so she did.

It took a bit of time but eventually, they fell back into their old domestic routine.

Ajax will never forget the night he had finally come back to the twins’ place.

“Papa, you’re back!”

~~~

Lumine snapped back to her senses when she felt Qiqi settling down beside her, yawning before her eyes closed. The blonde smiled before tucking her daughter properly under the blanket, fingers gently caressing the child’s face to lull her further to sleep. She stopped and watched Ajax settle back down himself.

Blue eyes met her golden ones, he smiled before taking Lumine’s hand and giving it a soft kiss, “Are you alright? You seem to be lost in thought.”

“Just thinking,” Lumine said, her finger moving to gently caress her lover’s cheek.

Ajax leaned into the touch, “Something wrong? You barely moved until Qiqi’s laid down and that took 30 minutes worth of story, you know.” he chuckled quietly.

Lumine smiled, “It’s nothing bad, just late night thoughts, I guess.”

He hummed, “And may I know what these thoughts are?”

Ajax may already have a feeling about it, there’s only one thing that makes her zone out like that.

Their relationship was received with different reactions, Aether threatening him if he hurt his sister he’s dead, their friends happy for them and demand he showers Lumine with all the happiness in the world… Xiao, however, didn’t take the news well, only leaving them with a cold glare about betraying Zhongli.

It upset Lumine, but she hides it from their friends, even if Ajax offered to have a talk with Xiao. They decided to give him some space first, let him slowly warm up to the idea that feelings are unpredictable and that his brother is not being replaced and will always have a place in their hearts.

“Just… I love you.”

Ajax froze, eyes widening at Lumine’s smile. It was unexpected, he thought Lumine will shrug it off as nothing and he’ll be left with anxious thoughts of Lumine being unhappy again.

He was the persistent one in pursuing their relationship, helping Lumine became comfortable with her feelings and accept the fact that she loves another man now.

And while Lumine had finally given up and freely chose to fall in love again, there’s still a bit of insecurity at the back of Ajax’s mind.

Even if they moved to a new home, spent passionate nights together, and Qiqi being a huge Papa’s girl, Ajax still can’t help but feel insecure about his standing in Lumine’s life, did he push her too much? Forced and chained her with him?

Those words rarely leave Lumine’s mouth, only answering it back when Ajax started it, but now that Lumine finally said it first, Ajax can’t help but feel his eyes water, nonetheless, he said it back, “I love you too.” with another kiss on her hand.

~~~

“What is she doing?” Lumine asked curiously as she helps Ajax clean the dishes by wiping the rinsed ones and placing them back on the rack.

Ajax hummed before looking at where Qiqi was. The little girl was crushing some of her animal crackers in a little bowl by the window.

“Oh, well, the other day we were watching the animal channel and it’s talking about birds, Qiqi seems fascinated by the finches it seems and wonders if they would like animal crackers. I’m assuming she’s trying to lure them.” Ajax chuckled.

Ever since moving together, Ajax had decided to start working from home, not just it’s more convenient, but he also thought it’ll help Lumine, who used to bring Qiqi with her to work. While her uncles don’t mind watching over her, their work environment isn’t the most ideal for children. Being separated from each other wasn’t as easy as she thought, well it’s harder on Lumine; the first day away was spent with her calling Ajax every hour to see how Qiqi is doing. Qiqi, on the other hand, is actually fine being left behind with Ajax, which still baffles her cause she could never leave her with a babysitter before. But then she remembers how Ajax is part of Qiqi’s life ever since she was born. He’s always been there enough for Qiqi to think she’s her father.

While Ajax certainly didn’t mind the title, instead, welcoming and taking the role seriously, Lumine wasn’t comfortable at first and had tried to subtly make Qiqi call him something else instead. Ajax respected her wishes, even helping her introduce Zhongli as her father.

Qiqi can’t quite grasp the concept yet, how can this man on the picture be her Papa when he’s not there to tell her stories about the Legendary Cocogoat and tuck her into bed and kiss her forehead?

Ajax and Lumine had explained in a sugarcoated way that her Papa is in a better place now but he’s always watching over her.

It still didn’t make sense to Qiqi, nor thought it was a big deal due to her age and would continue to call Ajax as her father.

Lumine was already considering researching about explaining life and death to Qiqi, but Ajax had expressed discomfort, explaining that a child’s innocence should be preserved. Lumine stated that Ajax won’t be able to protect Qiqi forever, but she did agree that it’s a bit early.

They gave up at one point since it’s starting to upset the child as well, claiming that Ajax doesn’t love her and her mama is mean even if she was just gently correcting her.

It broke both of their hearts, causing them to apologise and just let Qiqi be, besides, isn’t Ajax basically another father for her anyway? They’ll just save the talk again once she’s at the appropriate age.

“When do you think she’ll start asking for a pet?” Lumine chuckled.

“Hm, I mean it wouldn’t be bad getting her some finches, they’re actually low maintenance birds. We can buy a spacious cage in our garden and appropriate food for their diet.” Ajax considered, “I think it’s perfect for Qiqi since she’s more fond of observing than petting animals.”

Lumine hums, thinking about the time where Qiqi was fascinated by her Auntie Xiangling’s pet panda, Guoba. The little girl was in awe as her magenta eyes followed whatever Guoba is doing. Pretty much squealing in delight when Guoba does something silly, only daring to approach and pet the animal when Xiangling’s holding the animal to avoid any unexpected accidents.

“I think it will be good, I’ll ask Aether about it as well though,” Lumine said as she placed the last of the dishes in its proper place.

“I’m pretty sure he’ll suggest getting a dog instead.” Ajax laughed before drying his hands and pulling Lumine in his arms, nuzzling his face against her neck, “I mean, I’m not opposed to that idea as well.”

“Well, maybe we can ask Qiqi what she thinks, though I’m pretty sure she’ll choose the finches,” she said leaning back and sighing to his touch, he had always been a touchy lover, but Lumine doesn’t mind it one bit.

“I have that feeling as well.” Ajax chuckled.

“Anyway, don’t you have work to do?” Lumine asked as she turned around facing Ajax and poking his cheek, “I’m pretty sure I saw Scaramouche threatening you in your messages. Have you been slacking off your work, Mr Tartaglia?” she teased, the phrase coming from their college days where Ajax isn’t too keen on finishing an individual paper from a minor class.

Ajax rolled his eyes, “The midget is threatening me to go along with his story that the Tsaritsa made him stay overtime to work on a report about our branch in Inazuma, how he was so desperate to go home but his phone died and he couldn’t message his wife, instead of him actually being too focused on work he forgot their anniversary date.”

“Hm, I feel like Mona will know either way.” Lumi said as she thought about it, “She always does.”

“And she probably will still murder him even if I went along with it. His fault and not my problem.” Ajax shrugged.

“I’m pretty sure he’ll do the same when you’re in the same situation.” Lumine snickered.

Ajax gave her an offended look, “How dare you, I’ll never forget such an important date.”

Lumine raised an eyebrow, “Yeah? Well, when’s ours?”

“November 11, at 4:22 pm if you wanna be specific.” Ajax grinned at Lumine’s surprised face, “Told you, ojou-chan~” he used his special nickname for her before kissing the tip of her nose.

Lumine was about to retort back, but Qiqi had walked into the kitchen with her an assortment of toys, “Mama, Papa, play with Qiqi now?” she asked hopefully.

They both smiled warmly before untangling themselves from each other, “Papa will just make a call then I’ll join you and Mama, yeah?” he said as he knelt down to Qiqi’s height.

“Okay.” she smiled brightly before Ajax left to his office, she turned to her mother with a smile, “Mama, let’s go! Qiqi thought lots of games to play with Mama.”

Lumine smiled before letting her daughter drag her to her playroom. It’s been a while since Lumine had taken a couple of days off from their bakery, though she comes home at 6 pm every night, Qiqi would complain that she was gone for forever and missed so much playtime with her and while she loves her papa so much, she misses playing with her mama as well.

As Qiqi continues to talk about what they’ll do, Lumine can’t help but feel happily content with how her life is now.

~~~

White… Everything is all white...

He doesn’t exactly remember where he was, nor how he got there.

Hell, he doesn’t even know who he is.

Nor who the golden-haired girl is that sometimes appears in the distance.

All he knows is that if he finally reaches her,

He’ll be home.

#chilumi #zhonglumi #chilumi/zhonglumi #genshin impact

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reallifesultanas · 4 years ago

Text

Portrait of Ahmed I / I. Ahmed portréja

Origin and early years

Ahmed was born as the son of the later Mehmed III and his first concubine, Handan. His year of birth is still surrounded by controversy, as the ambassadors gave a different order of birth and year of birth for Mehmed III's sons. It is most likely that he was born in April 1590 in Manisa, his father's princely province. By the time he was born, there were at least two or three elder brothers, so his chances for the throne were negligible. He spent his early years in Manisa in the immediate vicinity of his family, then in 1595 his life took a great turn: Sultan Murad III died, so Ahmed's father ascended the throne as Mehmed III. Upon hearing the news, Mehmed immediately rode into the capital to get the throne as soon as possible and executed his 19 living brothers, thus getting rid of the dangers lurking around him. Meanwhile, his harem was preparing to move. We do not know exactly when Mehmed’s harem reached the capital, but it is likely that by their arrival the imperial harem was already beyond the deep mourning caused by the execution of the 19 princes.

Ahmed's education as prince began essentially when he moved to Istanbul. His teacher was Mustafa Efendi, from Aydın, who was a close friend of his father’s teacher, Mekkeli Mehmed Pasha. Ahmed and Mustafa Efendi were very close. Ahmed’s education first involved writing and reading, which was later supplemented with horseback riding, fencing, history, and religion. Ahmed showed a special interest in history, being preoccupied with the time of Suleiman I's reign. Perhaps it was already then that Sultan Suleiman the Great became his role model. It is not known that he was extremely talented from any of these subjects during his education, for quite a bit of information about him has survived from these years. The accounts also commemorate Prince Ahmed in very varied ways, often confusing him with his brother Mahmud. Some accounts of him, he is already referred to as an unfit child who is ill, while others hold him in high esteem.

The crown-prince

Ahmed’s full-brother Selim (and perhaps another brother) died in 1597 as a result of an epidemic, bringing the throne within available distance for the first time in his life. However, his older half-brother, Prince Mahmud, was still there. Mahmud was about two years older than Ahmed and was a prince of a completely different temperament. Mahmud's mother was Sultan Mehmed's favorite concubine, Halime. However, the grace of the sultan did not mean much, as Mehmed was ruled essentially by his mother, Safiye Sultan, who deeply disliked Halime. Instead, she favored Ahmed's mother, Handan, and also liked Ahmed the most among her grandsons. Safiye’s sympathy also supports the view that Ahmed may have been a retreating child. Safiye had a particularly bad relationship with her other grandson, Mahmud, as the boy had a too strong a will and condemned his grandmother's political influence. Thus, for Safiye a much more sympathetic heir to the throne was the her son-like grandson, who perhaps Ahmed was.

With the death of the chief eunuch, Gazanfer Agha, hell broke loose in the harem and it openly split into two factions: Handan and Safiye, who supported Prince Ahmed, and Halime, who supported her own son Mahmud. The struggle between the two sides became more and more fierce. Halime persuaded the sultan to appoint Mahmud as a crown-prince and send him to a province at last, meanwhile, Safiye tried to dissuade his son from doing so. More and more reckless actions by Prince Mahmud and Halime eventually led to the execution of Mahmud and his mother's exile with her youngest child, Mustafa. According to later accounts of the execution of Mahmud, even if it was hard, Ahmed was not surprised at all. According to his own confession, he repeatedly warned his brother not to speak to the Sultan with as much openness and recklessness as he usually did. Ahmed’s words are also supported by the accounts of the contemporary historian Peçevi, whose informant was one of Ahmed’s personal servants. According to this, Mahmud once openly asked his father for an army to defeat the rebels against his father. The Sultan was immeasurably frustrated by this, for his son was popular among the soldiers who hated him himself. Mehmed was afraid that Mahmud wanted to get an army to rebel against him. Mahmud did not see the danger, but Ahmed did, for he reportedly tried to stop his brother, but he failed.

After Mahmud's death, Sultan Mehmed appointed Ahmed as his heir and let him to accompany him everywhere, whether he went to the mosque or had any other public appearance. In addition, Safiye also clarified her support when she took Prince Ahmed with her to a military parade to present him to the people as an heir. Ahmed and his mother were certainly very relieved, for from now on nothing could stand in Ahmed's way. His future appointment to a province came within reach, they imagined how will Ahmed gaining experience and preparing himself precisely for his later reign. However, events took a completely different turn soon.

His accession to the throne

In December 1603, Sultan Mehmed died as a result of a sudden heart attack, barely half a year after the death of Prince Mahmud. Ahmed thus stood unprepared, uncircumcised, beside his dead father. The situation was very fragile, so Mehmed's death was not made public. They feared that a child sultan would not be accepted by statesmen or soldiers, so they resorted to trickery. It is not known on whose instructions these early events took place. Handan is unlikely to be able to give orders back then, there was no Grand Vizier, so either Ahmed’s teacher Mustafa Efendi or Valide Sultan Safiye decided to do the trick. The day after Mehmed's death, all influential statesmen and military leaders were immediately convened on behalf of the sultan. When everyone was present, Ahmed marched in, wearing a purple dress with a small turban on his head. The statesmen were already beginning to suspect something by this time, but perhaps they only believed that the prince would attend the event, but then Ahmed sat on the throne, signaling that he was the new sultan. Thus the statesmen could do nothing against his accession to the throne and immediately congratulated him.

Ahmed thus, though he could ascend the throne without rebellion or opposition, he had to face plenty of difficulties. He was barely 13 years old, so it was unimaginable for him to rule on his own. Because of this, his teacher, the esteemed Mustafa Efendi, and Ahmed's mother Handan Sultan became the regents. The difficulties of the first months thus burdened them more than Prince Ahmed. The first problem was the emptiness of the post of Grand Vizier, which was vacated shortly before Mehmed's death, but the Sultan died before he could appoint a successor. The choice of the Grand Vizier was very delicate, for Ahmed was an inexperienced, uncircumcised, childless, sick young sultan who ascended the throne in times of greatest political uncertainty. None of the pashas would have been happy to accept the position of Grand Vizier, as he hid a lot of risks. It was for this reason that several pashas who could have been candidates refused to return to Istanbul not to be appointed. Finally, at the request of Handan Sultan, Yavuz Ali Pasha accepted the post of Grand Vizier to help his Bosnian compatriot. Yavuz Ali Pasha eventually ruled the empire as about a third regent. His relationship with Handan, Ahmed, and Mustafa Efendi was so close that, according to reports, they were consulted several times on state affairs late at night or at dawn, contrary to the customs of the age. During these discussions, Handan spoke behind a curtain, while Ali Pasha, Mustafa Efendi, and Sultan Ahmed faced each other.

Another very delicate point was Safiye Sultan. Safiye was deeply hated by the military and the commoners, and there had been several rebellions against her before. Because of this, Ahmed and his supporters found themselves in a difficult position. It is not known what personal relationship Ahmed had with his grandmother. However, based on the fact that Ahmed was a very spiritual person, he may have felt some sort of gratitude for Safiye, as without her support he could never have come close to the throne. This is also supported by the fact that after his accession to the throne, he presented the three most important women of his life with very valuable clothes. Of course, his mother was one of them, his great-aunt Selim II's daughter, Gevherhan Sultan was the other and Safiye was the third. At the same time, Ahmed and his supporters also knew that keeping Safiye in the palace and close to politics could do a lot of harm to themselves and another rebellion could begin soon. For this reason, in January 1604, Ahmed sent Safiye to the Old Palace, and her political and harem supporters were also all replaced after Handan and Mustafa Efendi find them after hard research. With this move, Ahmed earned the recognition of the people and the military, but he certainly deeply offended his grandmother. Safiye destroyed the harem in rage, with what she insulted Ahmed. We don’t know much about Ahmed and Safiye’s relationship anymore. But the fact that Ahmed, as soon as he took power, gave another gifts, but this time Safiye missed out. Thus, only Handan and Gevherhan received a fur-decorated silk dress from the Sultan. Incidentally, Gevherhan had a very serious influence on the young ruler throughout Ahmed's reign. Ahmed was infinitely grateful to the woman for gifting his mother Handan to Mehmed at the time, thereby contributing to his birth. Ahmed regularly piled up valuable gifts for Gevherhan, who certainly played a kind of mother-role in Ahmed’s life.

Beyond the first crisis

Shortly after Safiye’s exile, a smallpox epidemic erupted in the city and palace. Sultan Ahmed also fell ill. Beside him, his only younger brother, Prince Mustafa, also caught the epidemic. Mustafa was not executed by Ahmed after his accession to the throne, for it would have been too risky, for he did not have his own heir yet, so every possible heir was needed. In addition, the people also increasingly condemned the law of fratricide, which is why his advisers advised Ahmed to spare Mustafa's life at least for some time. But the smallpox epidemic eventually struck both heirs, and the statesmen and people were deeply concerned. Being a small child, Prince Mustafa survived the disease relatively quickly, but Ahmed lay between life and death for a long time. At one point, it terrified the people so much that it was fearful, a rebellion would break out. Eventually, however, Ahmed also overcame the disease and, at the suggestion of his teacher, as soon as he was able to ride, he rode out into the city to show himself to the people, thus reassuring them. According to reports, the sultan was a medium-tall, average-looking man who looked healthy, but there were clear signs of smallpox on his face.

Smallpox showed how important it is for the sultan to produce offspring as soon as possible. However, this required circumcision. In general, the circumcision ceremonies, which were characteristic of princes between the ages of 6 and 15, took place with great splendor and plenty of accompanying ceremonies. However, in the case of a sultan, it would have been quite ridiculous to hold a circumcision ceremony, so as soon as Ahmed recovered from smallpox without any particular announcement, the circumcision ceremony was almost secretly organized. Handan and Gevherhan held a huge ceremony within the harem though. As soon as he recovered from the operation, his mother and aunt sent beautiful concubines to the young sultan. Ahmed seems to have succeeded almost immediately, so as soon as he turned fourteen, one of his concubines was already pregnant with his first child.

In November 1604, a concubine named Mahfiruze gave birth to a son whom Ahmed named Osman. The boy’s arrival was followed by a week-long series of public ceremonies, and the day after his birth, Ahmed greeted the statesmen on the divan to kiss his hand and congratulate him on the arrival of the heir to the throne. This was not a habit anyway. The Sultan's hand could only be kissed by the Vizier during religious ceremonies, but the birth of Osman was at least as important as a religious holiday. For Ahmed thus proved that he was able to have a child, thus freeing the empire from a problem. The issue of succession to the throne no longer worried anyone. In particular, in March 1605, two more children, a little girl and son, Prince Mehmed, were born, latter from a concubine named Mahpeyker Kösem. According to legend, the concubine caught Ahmed's attention when he was still a prince. Mahpeyker was a servant of Handan and she began flirting with the prince. When Handan realized this, she immediately banished the concubine, for if Sultan Mehmed had found out, it could easily have meant Ahmed's death. When he then ascended the throne, Ahmed recalled Mahpeyker and she soon became her favorite concubine.

Desire to prove his abilities

Although the soldiers basically liked Ahmed, for years (actually decades) they longed for a sultan who would take them to war himself, who was brave, glorious, and worthy of their love. Ahmed and his advisors knew this exactly, so immediately after his accession to the throne, Ahmed began to deal with the soldiers and regularly talked about his own campaign plans and desires. However, as time went on, it would have been important for Ahmed to prove his worth. As soon as his first son was born, Ahmed immediately wanted to go on a campaign, as Lala Mehmed Pasha, a new Grand Vizier, suffered a heavy defeat at Esztergom. Ahmed decided to head the army to help the pasha, but in the run-up, he received word that Nasuh Pasha, who had been sent against the Celali uprising, had also failed. The Celalis had been making life difficult for the empire for years, so Ahmed changed his mind and targeted Celalis instead of Esztergom in the fall of 1605. Shortly before his departure, his mother, Handan, died after a long illness, on November 9th. Ahmed was in a difficult situation. Indecency, he should have stayed home during the time of mourning, however, after a brief mourning ceremony and the burial of his mother, he set off against Celalis immediately. Ahmed’s act is very divisive among historians and the public.

Some believe Ahmed’s departure from the capital is proof he was not close to his mother. Those who share this view support their claim with the fact that Ahmed gave his mother an almost ridiculous salary anyway and tried to keep her in the background, so it is clear that they were not close, perhaps he did not even love his mother. However, this is not likely. Ahmed saw his grandmother Safiye over-dominate his father's reign, causing rebellions and destroying the empire. He wanted at all costs to avoid believing he was controlled by women, which is why he seemed to keep his mother in the background. Also, keep in mind that we are talking about a child who is barely 15 years old, whether a sultan or an average child, a 15-year-old cannot cope with certain events as one would expect from an adult. Ahmed must have been deeply endorsed by the death of his beloved mother, and this is why he wanted to break away from the palace and mourning.

However, there was also a huge desire in Ahmed to prove his abilities. His role model was Suleiman I, he wanted to follow him in everything which, we admit, is no small pressure for a teenager. He knew how much the soldiers expected of him and did not want to disappoint them. It was probably not just that he knew how dangerous the soldiers were. Apparently, Ahmed really wanted to be worthy of the love of the soldiers. Because of these, he eventually embarked on the campaign after Handan's death, despite his advisory opinion.

However, the campaign did not bring the desired goals for Ahmed. He fell ill shortly after his arrival. Ahmed was a boy of poor health anyway, the cold and harsh weather that prevailed during the campaign, the death of his mother, and the desire to prove his abilities all worsened his general condition. Eventually, instead of fighting, he was forced to agree with the Celalis, so to return to the capital. According to the account of the Venetian ambassador, the sultan was seriously struck by the situation in Anatolia, where people starved because of the wars, ate dead horses and camels, and begged for alms. That's why Ahmed chose to make peace because he saw the real face of the war. Either way, Ahmed finally ended the long-running Celali revolts with a compromise, further strengthening the love of his people in his direction.

The teenage sultan

The young sultan already had a very clear idea of ruling, of himself, and of what he wanted. When, for example, his pashas persuaded him to grow a beard as soon as possible, following the example of his father, Ahmed instructed the pashas in order quite wisely. He replied that growing a beard is the only thing he is willing to do similarly to his father, but he will do everything else differently. (Anyway, Ahmed had suffered from beard-growing all his life, he never really succeeded.) This is a good indication that Ahmed knew at a young age exactly how different a ruler he wanted to be from his father. Based on this and other similar stories, we may tend to forget that Sultan Ahmed was actually just a teenage boy at the time.

Although Ahmed tried to behave like an adult and his duties required him to do so, he often clashed with his real age in some of his activities. Ahmed loved to hunt and often behaved completely irresponsibly. On one occasion he disappeared from the camp without telling anyone where he was. In addition, he devoted almost all of his free time to hunting, which also caused difficulties for his close supporters. His mother put Derviş Aga to Ahmed's service, to be with the young sultan 24 hours a day and follow him wherever he went. We know from reports that Derviş sometimes had a very hard time with his job, as it was a heavy burden for an adult man to walk around the woods with a teenager all day. For Derviş, Ahmed was a kind of father figure, but knowing the evidences, his feelings may have been one-sided as Derviş only saw the opportunity of rising in the vicinity of the young sultan.

Ahmed regularly left the palace in disguise to look at the market and observe what the realm of life is like. They often went on these journeys only with Derviş alone, making his mother extremely troubled. Handan, while she was alive, tried to restrain her son, trying to protect him. Because of Ahmed's ill condition, perhaps as a rebellion, he did not even care about the weather, for example, and often left the palace in windy, cold weather, risking his own health. After Handan's death, it was feared that the young sultan would commit reckless deeds and not even pay much attention to himself. However, the loss of his mother and the experience of the first war proved to be enough to make Ahmed more serious. True, he kept his outside activities, but with much greater attention and caution.

Although he spent a lot of time with hunting, Ahmed did not neglect learning or child producing either. In the former, he was greatly assisted by his teacher and the ever-rising chief eunuch, Haci Mustafa Agha. Mustafa Agha was a very wealthy and educated man with extraordinary wisdom and intelligence, which is why, in addition to Ahmed's teacher, he also often chatted with the sultan, who was thus able to get quite close to him. Nor is it negligible that Haci Mustafa Agha was able to help the young sultan spiritually. Haci Mustafa Aga, taking advantage of his influence over the sultan, sought to help the mother of the sultan's second son, Mahpeyker Kösem, to secure her own place next to the sultan. Kösem became Ahmed's main sexual partner, having given Ahmed at least seven children in the following years: Mehmed in 1605, Ayşe, Fatma, Hanzade in 1609, then another son in 1612, Murad, Kasim in 1614, and her last son, Ibrahim in 1615. However, Ahmed's first concubine, Mahfiruze, did not lose the sultan's favor either, having at least one other child from the Sultan in 1612, Prince Bayezid, but some say she was also the mother of the Sultan's daughter named Gevherhan and a son named Süleyman. However, although Ahmed clearly favored Kösem, their relationship was never monogamous, as other children were born from several other insignificant concubines also: Selim, Hüseyin, Atike, Abide, Zahide, Esma, and Hatice.

However, the relationship between Ahmed and Köszem was exceptional, for the Sultan, after the death of his mother in late 1605 or early 1606, elevated the woman to the rank of Haseki and provided her with a high daily income of 500 aspers. Most of the ambassadors who were in Istanbul during Ahmed’s reign mentioned the prominent position of Kösem in the harem and in Ahmed’s life. Ahmed tried to avoid being overruled by women, so he didn’t let his concubine get close to political life either. However, certain topics were undoubtedly discussed with Kösem. Kösem was the first woman in the harem, everyone respected her, and Ahmed certainly loved her very much.

As his children were born in a row, Ahmed repeatedly pondered the execution of his brother, Mustafa, for the sake of his children. However, those close to him tried to convince the sultan that this would be a mistake. By 1612, Ahmed had tried to execute his brother three times, but all three times he had changed his mind at the last moment: the first time an unbearable stomach ache broke out after the order was issued, the second time a terrible storm ensued, the third time not knowing what had happened. Ahmed's favorite concubine, Kösem, also lobbied heavily for Mustafa's life. Kösem, of course, was not motivated by Mustafa's personality, but by the fact that her children were all younger than the eldest prince, Osman. And with the execution of Mustafa, the law of fratricide would have been revived, which would have meant the death of the sons of Kösem also. Kösem for trying to convince the Sultan quite cleverly, arguing that he himself did not ascend the throne as a firstborn, so he has no right to decide, as the decision can only be made by Allah. This shows well that Kösem was well acquainted with the nature of the sultan and perhaps was able to influence him in certain situations. However, knowing each other's nature was mutual. Ahmed also knew Kösem's ambitions for her own sons and tried to stop this. So it seems that Kösem and Ahmed both knew each other’s not-so-beneficial qualities, yet they were able to maintain a balanced relationship.

Renewal

Ahmed has become more and more experienced over the years, learning more and more, and wanting to keep control in his own hands. He had the opportunity to do so in 1607. Ahmed had several friends with whom he studied together or whom he met through his teacher, these men, although mostly older than the sultan, were still studying in the first years of Ahmed's reign. In 1607, however, they were able to leave the school and go to work in administrative jobs, inside or outside the palace. The renewal was further strengthened by the death of Ahmed’s teacher, in 1608, so the circles of the young sultan also changed. From this point on, Ahmed could, for the first time in his life, surround himself with people he wanted, trusted, and he chose. Ahmed also sought to distance himself from the day-to-day work that had been needed so far to build stability. He appeared less and less often on the divan and more and more often instructed the pashas not to look for him in person with their suggestions but to contact him in writing.

As his power solidified, he thought it was time for him to do a building project, as did his great predecessor, Suleiman I. He first began with minor repairs to the Aya Sofya, where some biblical mosaics remained after the conquest. The mosaics that remained there were covered by Ahmed, but he did not remove all Christian figures, leaving a representation of Mary, for example, untouched. After his smaller project ended with success and recognition, he embarked on the realization of his oeuvre. He wanted to create a mosque complex he envisioned directly next to Aya Sofya: the old and the new in one place. The construction was led by Sedefkar Mehmed, a student of the famous former imperial architect Mimar Sinan. The cost of construction, which began in 1609, was rising, so much so that at one point Ahmed had to borrow from the chief eunuch, Haci Mustafa Agha, to complete his project. The grandiose work finally came to a state in 1616 to be inaugurated, but it was not fully finished until later. The assessment of the huge project was very mixed. While his predecessors paid for the construction of mosques from the spoils of war, Ahmed I - in the absence of spoils of war - was forced to cover it from the treasury. However, this attracted the wrath of ulema and some of the people.

Ahmed was driven not only by ambition but also by his highly religious personality. Ahmed seriously believed that God had chosen him for the Ottoman throne and thought he should be grateful for this grace. He believed that there could be no other explanation for the fact that, in addition to at least three older brothers, he had eventually ascended the throne. Ahmed, therefore, considered himself the chosen-one, even though his illness regularly reminded him of his own mortality. Ahmed refused to underestimate himself, according to reports, despite his condition, he was a truly vivid person who enjoyed being able to appear in front of his people, enjoying life, but never being light-hearted or negligent. In addition to his regular hunts, horseback riding in the city, and market visiting in incognito, he also took great care of his reign. He also attempted to enforce conformance to Islamic laws and traditions, restoring the old regulations that prohibited alcohol and he attempted to enforce attendance at Friday prayers and paying alms to the poor in the proper way. Sometimes he seemed to be too strickt and naive in some topics, but despite his strictness and extreme religiosity, he is considered one of the most just sultans to this day. Perhaps because of his overwhelming personality and justice, he remained a favorite of the people even in spite of his expensive project.

His death

Ahmed was never a role model for health, he was often ill, his digestive system was particularly sensitive. In his last years, he had severe stomach problems with constant pain. The exact disease is not known, however, on November 22, 1617, Sultan Ahmed died at the age of barely twenty-seven as a result of gastrointestinal bleeding. He was buried in his own complex. With his death, a new era began. In Ahmed’s life, he never took a stand about fratricide or who he considered being his own heir. Perhaps he believed that it was indeed the right of Allah to choose the next Sultan. In any case, since Ahmed had no disposition to change the succession system, the empire faced severe chaos with the premature death of the sultan.

Used sources: G. Börekçi - A Queen Mother at Work: On Handan Sultan and Her Regency during the Early Reign of Ahmed I; C. Finkel - Osman's Dream: The Story of the Ottoman Empire; L. Peirce - The imperial harem; M. P. Pedani - Safiye's household and Venetian diplomacy; G. Börekçi - Factions and favourites at the courts of Sultan Ahmed I (r. 1603-17) and his immediate predecessors; S. Faroqhi - The Ottoman Empire and the World; C. Imber - The Ottoman Empire 1300-1650; F. Suraiya, K. Fleet - The Cambridge History of Turkey 1453-1603; G. Piterberg - An Ottoman Tragedy, History and Historiography at Play; F. Suraiya - The Cambridge History of Turkey, The Later Ottoman Empire, 1603–1839

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Származása és korai évek

Ahmed, a későbbi III. Mehmed és első ágyasa, Handan gyermekeként született. Születési évét a mai napig viták övezik, ugyanis a követek más más születési sorrendet és születési évet adtak meg III. Mehmed fiainak. A legvalószínűbb, hogy 1590 áprilisában látta meg a napvilágot Maniszában, apja hercegi tartományában. Születésekor már legalább két három volt, így esélyei a trónra elenyészőek voltak. Korai éveit Maniszában töltötte családja közvetlen közelében, 1595-ben aztán élete nagy fordulatot vett: meghalt III. Murad szultán, így Ahmed apja került trónra III. Mehmed néven. A hír hallatán Mehmed azonnal a fővárosba lovagolt, hogy mielőbb elfoglalhassa a trónt és kivégeztesse 19 élő testvérét, ezáltal megszabadulva a rá leselkedő veszélyektől. Mindeközben háreme felkészült a költözésre. Nem tudjuk pontosan, hogy Mehmed háreme mikorra érte el a fővárost, ám valószínűleg érkezésükkor a birodalmi hárem már túl volt a mélységes gyászon, amelyet a 19 herceg kivégzése okozott. Ahmed kisgyermek volt, így minden bizonnyal erőteljesen óvták, tehát aligha érzékelhetett bármit ebből.

Ahmed hercegi oktatása lényegében akkor kezdődött el, mikor Isztambulba költözött. Tanítója Mustafa Efendi volt, Aydınból, aki apja tanítójának Mekkeli Mehmed Pasának volt közeli barátja, így került a hercegek mellé. Ahmed és Mustafa Efendi igen közeli kapcsolatban voltak egymással. Ahmed tanítása először írást és olvasást foglalt magába, ami később kiegészült lovaglással, vívással, történelem-, és vallástudományokkal. Ahmed különös érdeklődést mutatott a történelem iránt, kiemelten foglalkoztatta I. Szulejmán uralkodásának ideje. Talán már ekkor példaképévé vált Nagy Szulejmán szultán. Nem tudni, hogy kiemelkedett e bármiből oktatása során, ugyanis meglehetősen kevés információ maradt fenn róla ezekből az évekből. A követi beszámolók is nagyon változatosan emlékeznek meg Ahmed hercegről, gyakran összekeverve őt testvérével Mahmuddal. Egyes beszámolók muja, már már alkalmatlan gyermekként hivatkoznak rá, aki beteges, mások pedig nagy becsben tartják.

A trónörökös

Ahmed édes-bátyja, Szelim (és talán egy másik bátyja is) 1597-ben elhunyt egy járvány következtében, így életében először elérhető közelségbe került a trón. Azonban továbbra is ott volt idősebb féltestvére, Mahmud herceg. Mahmud mintegy két évvel volt idősebb Ahmednél és egészen más temperamentumú herceg volt. Mahmud édesanyja volt Mehmed szultán kedvenc ágyasa, Halime. Azonban a szultán kegye nem sokat ért, hiszen Mehmed helyett lényegében édesanyja, Safiye szultána uralkodott, aki pedig ki nem állhatta Halimét. Helyette Ahmed édesanyját, Handant favorizálta és unokái közül is Ahmedet kedvelte legjobban. Safiye szimpátiája szintén alátámasztja azt a véleményt, miszerint Ahmed gyermekként muja lehetett. Safiye ugyanis kifejezetten rossz viszonyt ápolt másik unokájával Mahmuddal, hiszen a fiú túl erős akarattal bírt és elítélte nagyanyja politikai befolyását. Safiye számára így tehát sokkal szimpatikusabb volt egy fiához hasonló, muja trónörökös, mint amilyen talán Ahmed is volt.

A fő eunuch, Gazanfer Aga halálával a háremben elszabadult a pokol és nyíltan két frakcióra szakadt: Handan és Safiye oldalára, akik Ahmed herceget támogatták és Halime oldalára, aki saját fiát Mahmudot. A harc a két oldal között egyre kiélezettebbé vált. Halime arról győzködte a szultánt, hogy nevezze ki Mahmudot trónörökösnek és küldje őt tartományba végre, Safiye pedig próbálta erről lebeszélni fiát. Mahmud herceg és Halime újabb és újabb meggondolatlan cselekedetei végül oda vezettek, hogy a szultán Safiye nyomására kivégeztette Mahmudot, Halimét pedig száműzte legkisebb gyermekével a karonülő Musztafával együtt. Mahmud kivégzése későbbi beszámolói alapján ha meg is viselték, egyáltalán nem lepték meg Ahmedet. Saját bevallása szerint többször figyelmeztette bátyját, hogy ne beszéljen a szultánnal olyan nyíltsággal és meggondolatlansággal, ahogyan általában tette. Ahmed szavait alátámasztják a korabeli történetíró, Peçevi beszámolói is, akinek Ahmed egyik személyes szolgálója volt az informátora. Eszerint Mahmud egyszer nyíltan hadsereget kért apjától, hogy legyűrhesse az apja ellen lázadókat. A szultánt mérhetetlenül frusztrálta ez, ugyanis fia népszerű volt a katon��k között, akik őt magát gyűlölték. Mehmed félt, hogy Mahmud azért akar ennyire hadsereget szerezni, hogy ellene lázadhasson. Mahmud nem látta a veszélyt, Ahmed azonban igen, ugyanis a beszámolók szerint igyekezett megállítani bátyját, ám nem sikerült neki.

Mahmud halála után Mehmed szultán kinevezte Ahmedet örököséül és kiadta, hogy mindenhová kísérje őt el, akár mecsetbe megy, akár más nyilvános megjelenése van. Emellett Safiye szultána is egyértelműsítette támogatását, mikor egy katonai parédára magával vitte Ahmed herceget, hogy bemutassa a nép előtt, mint örököst. Ahmed és édesanyja minden bizonnyal nagyon megkönnyebbültek, hiszen innentől kezdve semmi nem állhatott Ahmed útjába. Elérhető közelségbe került majdani tartományba való kinevezése, tapasztalatgyűjtése és minél precízebb felkészítése az uralkodása. Az események azonban egészen más fordulatot vettek hamarosan.

Trónralépése

1603 decemberében Mehmed szultán feltehetőleg egy hirtelen szívroham következtében életét vesztette, alig fél évvel Mahmud herceg halála és Ahmed örökössé való kinevezése után. Ahmed így felkészületlenül, körülmetéletlenül állt halott apja mellett. A helyzet igen ingatag volt, emiatt Mehmed halálát nem hozták nyilvánosságra. Attól tartottak, hogy egy gyermek szultánt nem fogadnának el az államférfiak és a katonák sem, így cselhez folyamodtak. Nem tudni, hogy ezen korai események kinek az utasítására történtek. Handan nem valószínű, hogy parancsokat osztogathatott még ekkor, nagyvezír jelenleg éppen nem volt, így vagy Ahmed tanítója Mustafa Efendi vagy a Valide szultána, Safiye döntött a csel mellett. Mehmed halálának másnapján a szultán nevében azonnal a összehívattak minden befolyásos államférfit és katonai vezetőt. Amikor mindenki jelen volt, Ahmed vonult be lila ruhában, kis turbánnal a fején. Az államférfiak ekkor már kezdtek gyanakodni, de talán csak úgy hitték, hogy a herceg is részt fog venni a gyűlésen, azonban aztán Ahmed ráült a trónra, ezzel jelezvén, hogy ő az új szultán. Így az államférfiak semmit sem tehettek trónralépése ellen és azonnal gratuláltak neki.

Ahmed így bár lázadás és ellenkezés nélkül elfoglalhatta a trónt, de rengeteg nehézséggel kellett szembenézzen. Alig múlt 13 éves, így elképzelhetetlen volt, hogy saját maga uralkodhasson. Emiatt tanítója a megbecsült Mustafa Efendi és édesanyja Handan szultána lettek a régensei. Az első hónapok nehézségei így inkább terhelték őket, mint Ahmed herceget. Az első probléma a nagyvezíri poszt üressége volt, mely nemsokkal Mehmed halála előtt üresedett meg, ám a szultán meghalt mielőtt kijelölhette volna utódját. A nagyvezír kiválasztása igen kényes volt, ugyanis Ahmed egy tapasztalatlan, körülmetéletlen, gyermektelen, beteges ifjú szultán volt, aki a legnagyobb politikai bizonytalanságok idején került trónra. Egyik pasa sem szívesen fogadta volna el a nagyvezíri pozíciót, hiszen rengeteg kockázatot rejtett magában. Épp emiatt több pasa, aki jelölt lehetett volna nem volt hajlandó visszatérni Isztambulba, nehogy kinevezzék őket. Végül Yavuz Ali Pasa, Handan kérésére elfogadta a nagyvezíri posztot, hogy segítse bosnyák honfitársát. Yavuz Ali Pasa végül mintegy harmadik régensként uralkodott a birodalomban. Viszonya olyan közeli volt Handannal, Ahmeddel és Musztafa Efendivel, hogy követi beszámolók alapján a kor szokásaival ellenkezve többször is tanácskoztak államügyekben késő éjszaka vagy hajnalban. Ezen megbeszélések során Handan egy függöny mögött állva beszélt, míg Ali Pasa, Musztafa Efendi és Ahmed szultán szemtől-szembe.

Másik igen kényes pont Safiye szultána volt. Safiyét ugyanis a katonaság és a közemberek mélységesen gyűlölték, több lázadás is történt ellene korábban. Emiatt Ahmed és támogatói nehéz helyzetbe kerültek. Nem tudni, hogy Ahmed milyen személyes viszonyban volt nagyanyjával. Azonban arra a tényre alapozva, hogy Ahmed igen spirituális személy volt, talán valamiféle hálát érzett Safiye iránt, hiszen támogatása nélkül sosem kerülhetett volna a trón közelébe. Ezt alátámasztja az is, hogy trónralépése után a három, számára legfontosabb nőt ajéndékozta meg igen értékes ruhával. Természetesen édesanyja volt az egyik, nagy-nagynénje II. Szelim lánya, Gevherhan szultána a másik és Safiye a harmadik. Ugyanakkor Ahmed és támogatói azt is tudták, hogy ha Safiyét a palotában és a politika közelében tartják, azzal sokat árthatnak önmaguknak és egy újabb lázadás veheti hamarosan kezdetét. Emiatt 1604 januárjában Ahmed elküldte Safiye szultánát a Régi Palotába, politikai és hárembeli támogatóit pedig Handan és Mustafa Efendi alapos kutatása után szintén mind leváltották. Ezzel a lépéssel Ahmed kiérdemelte a nép és katonaság elismerését, ám minden bizonnyal mélységesen megbántotta nagyanyját. Safiye dühében leromboltatta a háremet, amivel pedig Ahmedet sértette meg. Ahmed és Safiye viszonyáról a továbbiakban nem tudunk sokat. Ám az beszédes, hogy Ahmed, amint hamarosan átvette a hatalmat, újabb ajándékozást tartott, Safiye azonban ezúttal kimaradt. Így csak Handan és Gevherhan szultánák kaptak prémmel díszített selyem ruhát a szultántól. Gevherhan szultána egyébként Ahmed egész uralkodása alatt nagyon komoly befolyással bírt az ifjú urolakodóra. Ahmed végtelenül hálás volt a nőnek, amiért édesanyját Handant annak idején Mehmednek ajándékozta, ezzel pedig hozzájárult az ő létrejöttéhez. Ahmed rendszeresen halmozta el értékes ajándékokkal Gevherhant, aki minden bizonnyal egyfajta anyaszerepet is betöltött Ahmed életében.

Túl az első mélyponton

Nemsokkal Safiye száműzetése után himlőjárvány dúlt a városban és a palotában, mely Ahmed szultánt is ágyba kényszerítette. Mellette egyetlen öccse, Musztafa herceg is elkapta a járványt. Musztafát Ahmed nem végeztette ki trónralépése után, ugyanis az túl kockázatos lett volna, hisz nem volt saját örököse, így szükség volt minden lehetséges örökösre. Emellett a nép is egyre inkább elítélte a testvérgyilkosság törvényét, ami miatt tanácsadói azt javasolták Ahmednek, egyelőre kímélje meg Musztafa életét. Ám a himlőjárvány végül mind a két örökösre lesújtott, az államférfiak és a nép pedig mélységesen aggódtak. Musztafa herceg kisgyermek lévén viszonylag gyorsan átvészelte a betegséget, Ahmed azonban hosszú időn át feküdt élet és halál között. Ez egy ponton annyira megrémítette a népet, hogy félő volt, lázadás tör ki. Végül azonban Ahmed is legyűrte a betegséget és tanítója javaslatára, amint képes volt lovagolni, kilovagolt a városba, hogy megmutassa magát a népnek, ezzel nyugtatva őket. A beszámolók szerint a szultán középmagas, átlagos külsejű férfi volt, aki egészségesnek tűnt, azonban arcán egyértelműen kivehetőek voltak a himlő nyomai.

A himlő megmutatta, milyen fontos, hogy mielőbb utódokat nemzzen a szultán. Ehhez azonban körül kellett metélni. Általában a körülmetélési ünnepségek, melyek a hercegek 6-15 éves kora között voltak jellemzőek, hatalmas pompával és rengeteg kísérő ünnepséggel zajlottak. Azonban egy szultán esetében meglehetősen nevetségesen hatott volna körülmetélési ünnepséget rendezni, így amint Ahmed felépült a himlőből minden különösebb bejelentés nélkül, szinte titokban szervezték meg a körülmetélési szertartást. Handan és Gevherhan szultánák azért a háremen belül hatalmas ünnepséget rendeztek, hogy Ahmednek is kijárjon az, ami a többi hercegnek. Amint felépült az operációból édesanyja és nagy-nagynénje szebbnél szebb ágyasokat küldött az ifjú szultán számára. Úgy tűnik, Ahmed szinte azonnal sikerrel járt és amint betöltötte a tizennégyet, már első gyermekével volt várandós az egyik ágyasa.

1604 novemberében egy Mahfiruze nevű ágyas fiú gyermeknek adott életet, akit Ahmed Oszmánnak nevezett el. A fiú érkezését egy hetes nyilvános ünnepségsorozat követte, valamint a születésének másnapján Ahmed a divanban fogadta az államférfiakat, hogy megcsókolják kezét és gratuláljanak neki a trónörökös érkezéséhez. Ez egyébként nem volt szokás. A szultán kezét csak vallási ünnepségek során csókolhatták a vezírek, ám Oszmán születése legalább akkora jelentőséggel bírt, mint egy vallási ünnep. Ahmed ugyanis ezzel bizonyította, hogy képes gyermeket nemzeni, ezzel megszabadítva egy problémától a birodalmat. A trónöröklés kérdése nem aggasztott tovább senkit. Különösen, hogy 1605 márciusában két újabb gyermek, egy kislány és egy trónörökös, Mehmed herceg született egy Mahpeyker Köszem nevű ágyastól. A legenda szerint az ágyas már akkor felkeltette Ahmed figyelmét, amikor még csak herceg volt. Mahpeyker ugyanis Handan szultána szolgálója volt és flörtölni kezdett a herceggel. Amikor Handan erre rájött azonnal száműzte az ágyast, ugyanis ha Mehmed szultán rájött volna, könnyedén Ahmed halálát jelenthette volna a flört. Mikor aztán elfoglalta a trónt, Ahmed visszahívta Mahpeykert és hamarosan kedvenc ágyasává vált a lány.

Bizonyítani akarás

A katonák bár alapvetően kedvelték Ahmedet, évek óta (tulajdonképpen évtizedek óta) vágytak egy olyan szultánra, aki maga viszi őket háborúba, aki bátor, dicső és méltó a szeretetükre. Ahmed és tanácsadói ezt pontosan tudták, emiatt trónralépése után azonnal elkezdett Ahmed a katonákkal foglalkozni és rendszeresen beszélt saját hadjárati terveiről és vágyairól. Azonban ahogy telt az idő, fontos lett volna, hogy Ahmed bizonyítsa is rátermettségét. Amint első fia megszületett Ahmed azonnal hadjáratra akart indulni, ugyanis Lala Mehmed Pasa, új nagyvezír súlyos vereséget szenvedett Esztergomnál. Ahmed eldöntötte, hogy serege élén a pasa megsegítésére indul, azonban a készülődés közben kapott hírt arról, hogy a keleti Celali felkelés ellen küldött Nasuh Pasa is elbukott. A Celalik ekkor már évek óta nehezítették a birodalom életét, így Ahmed meggondolta magát és Esztergom helyett a Celalikat vette célba 1605 őszén. Nemsokkal az indulás előtt édesanyja, Handan szultána hosszú betegség után elhunyt, november 9-én. Ahmed nehéz helyzetbe került. Az illem szerint a gyász idején otthon kellett volna maradnia, azonban egy rövid gyászceremónia és édesanyja temetése után azonnal a Celalik ellen indult. Ahmed ezen cselekedete nagyon megosztja a történészeket és a közvéleményt.

Egyesek úgy vélik, Ahmed távozása a fővárosból annak bizonyítéka, hogy nem állt közel édesanyjához. Akik ezen a véleményen vannak azzal támasztják alá állításukat, hogy Ahmed egyébként is szinte nevetséges fizetést adott anyjának és igyekezett őt a háttérben tartani, tehát egyértelmű, hogy nem álltak közel, talán nem is szerette anyját. Azonban nem ez a valószínű. Ahmed látta, ahogy nagyanyja Safiye túldominálja apja uralkodását és ezzel lázadásokat okoz és romba dönti a birodalmat. Ő minden áron el akarta kerülni, hogy azt higgyék róla, nők irányítják, emiatt tartotta látszólag háttérben édesanyját. Emellett ne feledjük el, hogy egy alig 15 éves gyermekről beszélünk, akár szultán, akár átlagos gyermek, egy 15 éves ember nem képes úgy megbírkózni bizonyos eseményekkel, ahogy az egy felnőttől elvárható lenne. Ahmedet minden bizonnyal - több beszámoló is alátámasztja - mélységesen megviselte szeretett anyja halála és épp emiatt akart elszakadni a palotától és a gyásztól.

Mindemellett Ahmedben hatalmas bizonyítási vágy is volt. Példaképe I. Szulejmán volt, mindenben őt szerette volna követni, ami valljuk be, nem kis nyomás egy kamasz számára. Tudta, hogy a katonák mennyit várnak tőle és nem akart nekik csalódást okozni. Emögött valószínűleg nem csak az állt, hogy tudta milyen veszélyesek a katonák. Úgy tűnik, Ahmed tényleg szeretett volna méltó lenni a katonák szeretetére. Ezek miatt végül tehát a tanácsadói véleménye ellenére is elindult a hadjáratra Handan halála után.

A hadjárat azonban nem hozta meg a vágyott célokat Ahmed számára. Nemsokkal érkezése után megbetegedett. Ahmed egyébként is gyenge egészségű fiú volt, a hadjárat során uralkodó hideg és zord időjárás, édesanyja halála, a bizonyítási vágy pedig mind tovább rontották általános állapotát. Végül a harc helyett kénytelen volt megegyezni a Celalikkal, hogy visszatérhessen a fővárosba. A velencei követ beszámolója szerint a szultánt komolyan szívenütötte az anatóliai helyzet, ahol a háborúk miatt az emberek éheztek, elhullott lovakat és tevéket ettek és alamizsnáért könyörögtek. Szerintük Ahmed emiatt is döntött a békekötés mellett, meglátta ugyanis a háború valódi arcát. Akárhogyan is, Ahmed végül lezárta a hosszú évek óta zajló Celali lázadásokat a megegyezéssel, ezzel pedig népe szeretete tovább erősödött irányába.

A kamasz szultán

Az ifjú szultánnak már igen ifjan is erős elképzelése volt a uralkodásról, önmagáról és arról, hogy mit is akar. Mikor például pasái győzködték, hogy mielőbb növesszen szakállat édesapja példáján, hogy komolyabbnak tűnjön, Ahmed meglehetősen bölcsen utasította rendre a pasákat. Azt felelte, hogy a szakál növesztés az egyetlen dolog melyben hajlandó apja nyomdokaiba lépni, minden mást azonban máshogyan fog csinálni. (Egyébként Ahmed egész életében csak szenvedett a szakál növesztéssel, sosem sikerült neki igazán.) Ez jól mutatja, hogy Ahmed már fiatalon is pontosan tudta, hogy mennyire más uralkodó akar lenni, mint apja volt. Ez és más hasonló történetek alapján hajlamosak lehetünk elfelejteni, hogy Ahmed szultán tulajdonképpen ekkoriban még csak egy kamasz fiú volt.

Ahmed bár igyekezett felnőttként viselkedni és feladatkörei is elvárták ezt tőle, sokszor kiütközött valódi kora egy egy tevékenysége során. Ahmed imádott vadászni, és sokszor teljességgel felelőtlenül viselkedett. Egy alkalommal anélkül tűnt el a táborból, hogy bárkivel közölte volna hollétét. Emellett pedig szinte teljes szabadidejét a vadászatra szánta, amivel közeli támogatóiank is nehézséget okozott. Édesanyja állította Ahmed szolgálatába Derviş Agát, hogy a nap 24 órájában legyen az ifjú szultán mellett akárhová megy. Beszámolókból tudjuk, hogy Derviş néha nagyon nehezen viselte a feladatát, ugyanis terhes volt egy felnőtt férfi számára, hogy egész nap az erdőben mászkáljon egy kamasszal. Derviş, Ahmed számára egyfajta apafigura volt, utólag visszatekintve, a bizonyítékok ismeretében azonban érzései egyoldalúak lehettek és Derviş inkább a lehetőséget látta meg az ifjú szultán közelségében.

Ahmed rendszeresen hagyta el a palotát álruhában, hogy a piacon nézelődjön és megfigyelje, hogy milyen a valódi élet birodalmába. Ezekre az utakra gyakran csak Dervişsel kettesben mentek, amivel édesanyját rendkívüli módon aggasztotta az ifjú szultán. Handan amíg élt, igyekezett visszafogni fiát, próbálta őt óvni. Ahmed ugyanis beteges állapota miatt, talán mintegy lázadásként, már csak azért sem foglalkozott például az időjárással, és gyakran szeles, hideg időben is elhagyta a palotát, kockáztatva saját egészségét. Handan halála után félő volt, hogy az ifjú szultán meggondolatlan tetteket fog elkövetni és még annyira sem fog figyelni önmagára. Azonban édesanyja elvesztése és az első háborús tapasztalat elégnek bizonyult, hogy Ahmed megkomolyodjon. Igaz, palotán kívüli tevékenységeit emgtartotta, de jóval nagyobb figyelemmel és óvatossággal.

Bár a vadászat sok idejét elvette, Ahmed a tanulást és gyermeknemzést sem hanyagolta el. Előbbiben nagy segítségére volt tanítója és az egyre magasabbra jutó fő eunuch, Haci Mustafa Aga. Musztafa Aga nagyon vagyonos és tanult ember volt, rendkívüli bölcsességgel és intelligenciával, emiatt Ahmed tanítója mellett gyakran társalgott az eunuchhal is, aki így meglehetősen közel tudott kerülni hozzá. Emellett nem elhanyagolható az sem, hogy Haci Mustafa Aga, spirituálisan is tudta segíteni az ifjú szultánt. Haci Musztafa Aga kihasználva befolyását a szultánra, igyekezett a szultán második fiának anyját, Mahpeyker Köszemet segíteni, hogy a nő bebiztosítsa saját helyét a szultán mellett. Köszem vált Ahmed fő szexuális partnerévé, ugyanis a következő években legalább hét gyermeket szült Ahmednek: Mehmedet 1605-ben, Ayşét, Fatmát, Hanzadét 1609-ben, majd 1612-ben újabb fiút, Muradot, 1614-ben Kasimot, 1615-ben pedig utolsó gyermekét Ibrahimot. Ahmed első ágyasa Mahfiruze sem vált azonban kegyvesztetté, legalább egy gyermeke született még a szultántól 1612-ben, Bayezid herceg, de egyesek szerint a szultán Gevherhan nevű lányának is ő volt az anyja. Ahmed azonban bár egyértelműen Köszemet favorizálta, sosem volt monogám a kapcsolatuk, ugyanis több más, jelentéktlen ágyastól is születtek gyermekei Szulejmán, Szelim, Hüseyin, Atike, Abide, Zahide, Esma és Hatice.

Ahmed és Köszem kapcsolata azonban kivételes volt, a szultán ugyanis anyja halála után 1605 végén vagy 1606 elején Haszeki rangra emelte a nőt és magas, 500 asperes napi jövedelmet biztosított számára. A legtöbb követ, aki Ahmed uralkodása alatt Isztambulban tartózkodott megemlítette, hogy Köszem milyen kiemelt pozíciót tölt be a háremben és Ahmed életében. Ahmed igyekezett elkerülni, hogy úgy tűnjön, a nők irányítják, így ágyasát sem engedte a politikai élet közelébe. Azonban bizonyos témákat kétség kívül megvitatott Köszemmel. Köszem volt a háremben az első asszony, mindenki tisztelte, Ahmed pedig minden bizonnyal nagyon szerette.

Ahogy gyermekei sorra születtek, Ahmed többször is elgondolkozott azon, hogy öccsét, Musztafát kivégeztesse gyermekei érdekében. Azonban a hozzá közel állók igyekeztek meggyőzni a szultánt arról, hogy ez hiba lenne. 1612-re Ahmed háromszor próbálta meg öccsét kivégeztetni, ám mind háromszor az utolsó pillanatban meggondolta magát: első alkalommal elviselhetetlen hasfájás tört rá a parancs kiadása után, második alkalommal szörnyűséges vihar kerekedett, harmadik alkalommal nem tudni mi történt. Musztafa életéért Ahmed kedvenc ágyasa, Köszem is erősen lobbizott. Köszemnek természetesen nem Musztafa személye adta a motivációt, hanem az a tény, hogy gyermekei mind fiatalabbak voltak a legidősebb hercegnél, Oszmánnál. Musztafa kivégzésével pedig a testvérgyilkosság törvénye újra életre kelt volna, ami Köszem fiainak halálát jelentette volna. Köszem meglehetősen okosan próbálta a szultánt meggyőzni, azzal érvelve, hogy ő maga sem elsőszülöttként került trónra, így nincs joga dönteni, a döntést csak is Allah hozhatja meg. Ez jól mutatja, hogy Köszem jól ismerte a szultán természetét és talán befolyásolni is tudta őt bizonyos helyzetekben. Azonban a jó emberismeret kölcsönös volt. Ahmed is ismerte Köszem ambícióit saját fiai iránt és igyekezett ennek gátat szabni. Úgy tűnik tehát, hogy Köszem és Ahmed mindketten ismerték egymás nem t��l előnyös tulajdonságait is, mégis kiegyensúlyozott kapcsolatot tudtak fenntartani.

A megújulás

Ahmed az évek során egyre tapasztaltabbá vált, egyre többet tanult és egyre inkább szerette volna a saját kezébe venni az irányítást. Erre 1607-ben nyílt alkalma. Ahmednek több barátja volt, akikkel együtt tanult vagy akiket tanítóján keresztül megismert, ezen férfiak bár többnyire idősebbek voltak a szultánnál de Ahmed uralkodásának első éveiben még mindig tanultak. 1607-ben azonban elhagyhatták az iskolát és munkába álhattak az adminisztratív munkakörökben, a palotán belül vagy azon kívül. A megújulást tovább erősítette, hogy Ahmed tanítója, 1608-ban elhunyt, így az ifjú szultán körei is megváltoztak. Ahmed innentől kezdve, életében először olyan emberekkel vehette magát körül, akiket ő akart, akikben ő bízott és akiket ő választott. Ahmed emellett igyekezett eltávolítani magát a napi szintű munkától, amelyre a stabilitás kiépítése miatt eddig szükség volt. Mind ritkábban jelent meg a divanban és egyre többször utasította a pasákat, hogy ne személyesen zaklassák javaslataikkal, hanem írásban keressék meg.

Ahogy hatalma megszilárdult, úgy gondolta ideje neki is építkeznie, ahogy nagynevű elődje, I. Szulejmán tette. Először kisebb javításokkal kezdte az Aya Sofya imahelyén, ahol néhány bibliai mozaik maradt még a hódítás után. Az ott maradt mozaikokat Ahmed lefedette, azonban nem tüntetett el minden keresztényi figurát, Mária egy ábrázolását például érintetlenül hagyta. Miután a kisebb projektje sikerrel és elismeréssel zárult, belefogott életművének megvalósításába. Egy mecset komplexumot akart létrehozni, melyet egyenesen az Aya Sofyával szemben képzelt el: a régi és az új egy helyen. Az építkezést az egykori nagynevű birodalmi építész, Mimar Sinan egyik tanítványa, Sedefkar Mehmed vezette. Az 1609-ben megkezdett építkezés költségei egyre magasabbra kúsztak, olyannyira, hogy egy ponton Ahmednek kölcsön kellett kérnie a fő eunuch, Haci Musztafa Agától, hogy projektjét befejezhesse. A grandiózus alkotás végül 1616-ban került olyan állapotba, hogy fel lehessen avatni, teljesen kész azonban csak később lett. A hatalmas projekt megítélése igen vegyes volt. Míg elődei a háborús zsákmányból fizették a mecsetek építését, I. Ahmed - háborús zsákmányok híján - kénytelen volt a kincstárból fedezni azt. Ezzel azonban magára vonta az ulema, és a nép egy részének haragját is.

Ahmedet az építkezésre nem csak a becsvágy hajtotta, hanem rendkívül vallásos személyisége is. Ahmed komolyan hitte, hogy Isten őt választotta az Oszmán trónra és úgy gondolta, hogy valamivel meg kell hálálnia ezt a kegyet. Úgy hitte ugyanis, nem lehet más magyarázat arra, hogy legalább három bátyj mellett mégis ő került a trónra végül. Ahmed önmagát emiatt mintegy kiválasztottnak tartotta, szinte emberfelettinek, még akkor is, ha betegessége rendszeresen emlékeztette saját halandóságára. Ahmed elutasította, hogy kevesebbre becsülje magát, a beszámolók alapján, állapota ellenére is igazán élettelteli, pezsgő személyiség volt, aki élvezte ha megjelenhet népe előtt, élvezte az életet, de sosem volt könnyelmű vagy szabados. Rendszeres vadászatai, városban lovaglásai, inkognitóban piacolásai mellett, nagy gondot fordított az uralkodásra is. Megpróbálta újra érvényesíteni az iszlám törvényeket és hagyományokat, melyek az utóbbi években kissé háttérbe szorultak, emellett visszaállította az alkoholt tiltó régi szabályozásokat, és megpróbálta érvényesíteni a pénteki imákon való részvételt. Továbbá rendszeresen osztott pénzt a szegényeknek. Szigorúsága, extrém vallásossága ellenére is az egyik legigazságosabb szultánnak tartják, mind a mai napig. Talán lehengerlő személyisége és igazságossága miatt maradt a nép kedvence még a drága projektje ellenére is.

Halála

Ahmed sosem volt az egészség mintaképe, gyakran volt beteg, különösen érzékeny volt az emésztőrendszere. Utolsó éveiben komoly gyomor problémái voltak, állandó fájdalmakkal. A pontos betegség nem ismert, azonban végül 1617. november 22-én emésztőrendszeri vérzés következtében Ahmed szultán elhunyt, alig huszonhét évesen. Saját komplexumában helyezték örök nyugalomra. Halálával új korszak kezdődött. Ahmed életében sosem foglalt állást a testvérgyilkossággal vagy azzal kapcsolatban, hogy kit tart saját örökösének. Talán úgy hitte, valóban Allah joga kiválasztani a következő szultánt. Mindenesetre, mivel Ahmed nem rendelkezett, a birodalomra komoly káosz várt a szultán idő előtti halálával.

Felhasznált források: G. Börekçi - A Queen Mother at Work: On Handan Sultan and Her Regency during the Early Reign of Ahmed I; C. Finkel - Osman's Dream: The Story of the Ottoman Empire; L. Peirce - The imperial harem; M. P. Pedani - Safiye's household and Venetian diplomacy; G. Börekçi - Factions and favourites at the courts of Sultan Ahmed I (r. 1603-17) and his immediate predecessors; S. Faroqhi - The Ottoman Empire and the World; C. Imber - The Ottoman Empire 1300-1650; F. Suraiya, K. Fleet - The Cambridge History of Turkey 1453-1603; G. Piterberg - An Ottoman Tragedy, History and Historiography at Play; F. Suraiya - The Cambridge History of Turkey, The Later Ottoman Empire, 1603–1839

#Ahmed I #Kösem sultan #mahpeyker #handan sultan #derviş paşa #blue mosque #Suleiman the Magnificent #Suleiman I #halime sultan #safiye sultan #Mehmed III #gevherhan sultan #Mustafa I #murad iv #osman ii

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helenaklein · 4 years ago

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I hit some major missing Helena Klein hours the other day so I decided to replay her route. I’m on season 4 and can someone smarter than me explain why Helen’s death, a character we never technically meet, hits so damn hard.

That message sent before I could finish typing. The other part of that was, I know why Helen’s death hurts, like I can feel it, but can’t verbalize it, you know what I mean?

i do absolutely get what you mean about the difficulty verbalizing exactly what it is about helen's death that hits so hard. im not sure if this was a real request for me to try a hand at explaining it, but this ask got me thinking and (more importantly for all my attempts at words) feeling, so these are my thoughts on it, at least. beware: this is really fucking long.

i mean... first off... it's wild, isn't it? that a character that we never knew alive can inspire such an acute feeling of loss in us. but she does. even thinking about it now makes me sad. it's skillful, and well done. season 4 would not have been as impactful as it was if the character helena spent the majority of the time mourning was not someone we as readers were also upset about.

the reasons that exist for me on a sort of surface level, those i recognize as factors but are still less interesting and compelling to me, are 1) helena herself is devastated by this loss, and those that love her will always feel some of what she's feeling as we go on that journey with her and 2) helen was genuinely good, and the death of any character we know is doing so right by the people around them is always bound to be something tragic and heartbreaking.

now, there are a few other reasons for it that i find more influential (and impressive), but they're more complex ideas and kind of wrapped up in one another so bear with me.

thematically, season 4 exists as a moment in helena's story where she, mc, and the reader are confronted face to face with concepts that before only existed as an undercurrent, as questions that don't get asked out loud because we're not sure they're "good" questions. "what if helena had a clean slate?" "what would it be like if helena's mind was unburdened?" "what if helena never met the witch queen at all?" "what if there was a place where helena was out of reach from all that haunts her?"

and we see all of those hypothetical scenarios play out right there on our screens. and the answers to those questions? they're fucking heartbreaking. and uncomfortable. and so, so necessary.

first, helena's amnesia creates a circumstance in which she really doesn't remember everything awful that's ever happened to her. and, wait, maybe... maybe things are better for her this way! she sleeps without nightmares. she's good! she smiles and she learns and she walks through streets without paranoia.

but she's... still carrying some of it with her. it lives in her body. so deep inside her mind that she can know nothing about herself and still instinctively know that the cold is something bad to her. it's as close as she could ever possibly come to that clean slate, that feeling of being unburdened. but it's not peace to her; she's not any more whole just because she can't remember the things that have broken her. that sense of peace she seeks can't come in the form of simply not knowing.

and that sucks! it's sad as hell! a solution that's perfect on paper, yet one that everyone on this ride now needs to step away and move on from because it's not real, and maybe that's okay.

so helena, mc, and us as readers move on. not for long though! because in comes the dopplegangers. because in comes the literal embodiments of our cast in an untouched-by-witch-queen state.

in comes helen.

she's wonderful. well-loved. successful. healing. dedicating her life to helping people through the worst moments of their lives.

she's everything.

she's every single thing helena's ever hoped she could be had her circumstances been different; every single thing we've wondered if helena would be if she could exist away from her demons.

and she's dead. murdered. by none other than the witch queen.

when the witch queen kills helen, she doesn't just kill helen. when helena, and we as people on this journey with her, experience the loss of helen, we're not just mourning for helen. helen's death is so much less about her dying than it is about the fantasy she represents being struck down permanently.

a version of helena untouched by the witch queen does not exist. a version of helena that never experienced and inflicted terrible evils does not exist. that person is dead, she's unreachable, she's never really real.

that moment we call season 4 is an awakening of sorts. one that's really, really hard. absolutely fucking sad. almost unbearably uncomfortable.

but it's the truth and it's needed.

because there are no perfect solutions. there are no ideal circumstances in which trauma and history can be erased. and even if there was, that's not what healing is.

helen's death hurts because with it comes the loss of an idea that feels really, really good. but that loss also inspires the single most important decision helena makes in the whole route. it's only after letting go of those fantasies, in getting the answers to those "what if" questions, that helena chooses to fight. to heal. to do the right thing.

that's why helen's death hits so hard. that's why season 4 is one of the seasons of hers i find myself returning to emotionally and mentally most often.

and that's why the chicago ending the the stupidest shit i've ever read in my life and the grossest bastardization of a character arc to date.

#lvstrck #helena klein #long post #tw chicago ending #shdjdjsjcjsjcjz #anyway helena i love you so much you mean so much to me and im so so sorry They did That to you #tried 2 put a read more on this but tumblr is an utter shit show so we shall see what happens

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wellesleyunderground · 4 years ago

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Wellesley Writes It: Conversation with Sumita Chakraborty '08 (@notsumatra), author of ARROW

Sumita Chakraborty is a poet, essayist, scholar, and a graduate of Wellesley College, class of 2008. Her debut collection of poetry, Arrow, was released in September 2020 with Alice James Books in the United States and Carcanet Press in the United Kingdom, and has received coverage in The New York Times, NPR, and The Guardian. Her first scholarly book, tentatively titled Grave Dangers: Death, Ethics, and Poetics in the Anthropocene, is in progress. She is Helen Zell Visiting Professor in Poetry at the University of Michigan - Ann Arbor, where she teaches in literary studies and creative writing.

Sumita’s poetry appears or is forthcoming in POETRY, The American Poetry Review, Best American Poetry 2019, the Academy of American Poets’ Poem-a-Day, and elsewhere. Her essays most recently appear in the Los Angeles Review of Books. Her scholarship appears or is forthcoming in Cultural Critique, Interdisciplinary Studies in Literature and the Environment (ISLE), Modernism/modernity, College Literature, and elsewhere. Previously, she was Visiting Assistant Professor in Women’s, Gender, and Sexuality Studies, as well as Lecturer in English and Creative Writing, at Emory University.

Wellesley Underground’s Wellesley Writes it Series Editor, E.B. Bartels ’10, had the chance to chat with Sumita about publishing, reading, and writing. E.B. is grateful to Sumita for willing to be part of the Wellesley Writes It series in the middle of her book debut!

EB: Thank you so much for being part of the Wellesley Writes It series, Sumita! I’m excited to get to talk to you about writing in general, but especially your debut collection Arrow. Can you start off speaking a bit about how this book came about?

SC: Thank YOU so much! This is such a joy.

The book that’s now Arrow went through about seven prior full versions.

EB: Oh my gosh! Wow.

SC: While there’s a lot going on in there, the most fundamental story I wanted to tell was that of the experience of living in the aftermath of severe domestic violence, other entangled forms of assault, and grief (in my case, particularly for my sister, who died in 2014 at the age of 24). The word “aftermath” is a tricky one, because there is no neat and tidy “after” violence or grief, particularly when one considers the varying scales on which various devastations and mournings take place. One of the main narrative arcs of the collection, though, is that of becoming someone who can embrace love and joy and care and kinship even when those concepts have been weaponized or altogether foreclosed for all of one’s childhood and adolescence. And that’s a narrative that requires a sense of an “after” that I am deeply fortunate to have personally experienced. That’s the main tightrope the collection is invested in walking, which forms the through-line around which and with which its other preoccupations and obsessions orbit and collide.

EB: Wow, thank you so much for sharing all that, Sumita. I especially like what you said about the lack of a “neat and tidy” ending -- isn’t that always the case when it comes to writing about things from our own lives? We want real-life closure but sometimes have to settle for just narrative closure instead.

I meant to say also congratulations on the publication of your collection not only in the US but in the UK as well! What was it like to put that version together? The same? Different?

SC: I was wildly lucky in this regard. Some years ago, I published the poem “Dear, beloved” in Poetry, before it was in Arrow—and in fact before this version of Arrow even existed. At that point, the editor of Carcanet reached out to me to say that the press would be interested in bringing out my collection in the UK. I kind of panicked!

EB: I totally would have, too!

SC: As I mentioned, there was no Arrow yet. I was on a much earlier version that was “complete,” but when I looked at it, I knew: This ain’t it. And querying US presses was therefore not something I was prepared to do at that time; UK publication was even less within the realm of my imagination. I essentially told them the manuscript was in progress and asked if I could reach back out when it was ready and if I had secured a US publisher. Some years later, the collection was picked up by Alice James in the States and I reached back out to Carcanet to see if they were still interested, and they were! Alice James and Carcanet worked together during the production process, so while there were certainly some differences in approaches across either side of the pond, much of it was really streamlined, and that is all thanks to the outstanding and immense labor of the extraordinary editors and staffs at both publishers.

EB: How did you begin writing poetry in the first place? What was your path to becoming a writer?

SC: I didn’t come into much of a sense that I was interested in poetry and in literature until college. When I got there, I didn’t have a sense of really any passions and skills that I had, and that’s not imposter syndrome speaking—it’s because I had a terrible record in high school and found nothing inspirational there, and I was also pretty busy attempting to survive the violence I was experiencing at home and working toward moving out, which I did before college. In my first year and my sophomore fall at Wellesley, I took a really broad smattering of courses, including (with wild, and probably inappropriate, disregard for prerequisites in both cases) Advanced Shakespeare with William Cain and Advanced Poetry Writing with Frank Bidart. I was very much not good enough for both of those courses! But even as I was flailing around in them, something in my mind clicked: this was something I was willing to be terrible at until I started to understand it a bit better. These were puzzles that I liked, questions I liked, problems I cared about dwelling with. It was pretty much “love at first confusion.”

EB: I love that idea: “this was something I was willing to be terrible at.” That 100% nails how I feel about writing, too.

So, obviously, as you just said, Wellesley was very important in your trajectory as a poet -- the title of your book is a reference to a Frank Bidart poem! Which other faculty, staff, fellow students have influenced or inspired you? Are there any professors or classes you would tell young Wellesley writers that they 100% have to take?

SC: Following “love at first confusion,” I essentially made a second home of the first floor of Founders, so my answer to who at Wellesley influenced or inspired me could fill multiple pages!

EB: I love Founders. I miss Founders.

SC: I will invariably accidentally leave someone out and feel guilty, so I offer my mea culpas in advance. In addition to Bill Cain and Frank Bidart, I am beyond grateful to Dan Chiasson, with whom I worked on both my literary studies (including my thesis) and my poetry, and who graciously offered me more mentorship than I’d ever experienced in my life before that point; to Kate Brogan, from whom I got the bug for twentieth-century poetics, which remains the focus of my literary studies research; to Yoon Sun Lee, who taught the theory class when I took it, and planted a hugely important seed that I didn’t even know had been planted until much later simply by being a brilliant Asian American literary scholar (not a role I had ever before seen filled by someone of this subject position); to Larry Rosenwald, who was the first person I had ever met in a literary context who both knew that English was not my heritage language and, in his infinite and genuine passion for multilingualism, viewed that fact as a strength.

I wish I’d had more of a chance to get to know my peers while actually at Wellesley—my life circumstances while I was in college differed from the typical Wellesley experience in ways that made doing so challenging (for one, I worked multiple jobs the entire way through), but I’ve gotten to better know many people I knew at Wellesley more in the years since and that’s been a wonderful experience.

EB: I’ve also made a lot of Wellesley friends post-Wellesley. The Wellesley experience never ends, in that way.

SC: Since I’ve already spoken to the coursework that inspired me, I’m going to zig a bit where your last question zags: there isn’t a single course I would tell young Wellesley writers or literary enthusiasts that they 100% have to take. I don’t think one could go wrong with anyone I’ve named here (and I’ve been really excited to learn about the new additions to the English department: I would have loved to have learned from Cord Whitaker and Octavio González, and have heard wonderful things about both!). But I think that what made the Wellesley experience truly influential for me was that I had the opportunity, like Whitman’s “Noiseless Patient Spider” (though, um, not very noiselessly or patiently), to “launch’d forth filament, filament, filament,” and really listen to what spoke to me. I came in with no preconceptions, no expectations, no firm career plan (or even career plan). Knowing what undergraduates at environments like Wellesley frequently pressure themselves or feel pressured to do (or achieve or produce or attain), I don’t want to offer advice along the lines of a “must-do.” Rather, try things out and truly listen to yourself. What’s your “love at first confusion”?

EB: I know from personal experience that writing can be a really lonely practice. Who did you rely on for support during those really frustrating writing moments? Other writers? Your spouse? Friends? Fellow Wellesley grads? What does your writing/artistic community look like?

SC: All of the above! The thing is, for me, I don’t think writing is a lonely practice. When I feel most energized about writing, it is because I feel like I am in a conversation—or, to put a finer point on it, when I’m in a conversation that is nestled within hundreds of thousands of other conversations that have happened for millennia, are currently happening all around me, and will continue to happen after I’m a hunk of dirt. Tapping into that is often what brings me to the page in the first place.

EB: That’s such a good point.

SC: So when students, for example, feel really isolated or alone in their writing life, my first recommendation is to remind themselves of their beloveds. These may be actual living ride-or-die humans in their lives; these may be ghosts of writers and artists past that are important to them; they might be their most frequently bustling group text or their favorite TV show. Honestly, if one’s thinking of this question as broadly as I recommend, those beloveds probably belong to all of the above categories, to some degree. When you write, even if none of these beloveds are your subject or your audience or anything quite that easily analogous to the process, they are with you, and they have formed who you are before you’ve even picked up a pen or turned your computer on, so they are with you when you are writing, too.

EB: What is it like to now be teaching poetry to undergrads? Are you channeling your inner Dan Chiasson?

SC: Ha! Thank you for that—I just got a visual of myself trying to go as Dan for Halloween and I cracked myself up. (Dan, if you’re reading this: sorry!) I teach undergraduates and graduate students at Michigan, both in literary studies and in creative writing, and I love it very, very much. My students of all levels are brilliant, thoughtful, curious, and wildly imaginative people who often help bolster my faith in the ongoing importance of literary work. Honestly, particularly during this year, I have frequently been in awe of my students and have felt overwhelmingly lucky to be able to work with them.

EB: I know that you are also currently working on your first scholarly book, Grave Dangers: Death, Ethics, and Poetics in the Anthropocene. How do you approach writing poetry vs. writing an academic work? How is your creative process similar or different?

SC: For me the two have been inseparable since Wellesley. I essentially ask similar questions and have similar preoccupations no matter what genre I write; in terms of deciding which thought belongs to which genre, or which project a particular moment is better suited to, that’s often a matter of thinking carefully of what shapes that I want the questions to take, and what kinds of “answers”—in quotation marks because I don’t strive at certainty or mastery in either genre, or in anything for that matter—for which I imagine reaching or searching. For me, the processes for writing both are very, very similar: I draft wildly and edit painstakingly. It’s more a matter of closely listening to my patterns of thinking on any given subject or day in order to find out if the rhetorical patterns of academic prose would better suit them or if the rhetorical patterns of poetry would better suit them.

EB: What are you currently reading, and/or what have you read recently that you’ve really enjoyed? What would you recommend to read while we (are continuing to) lay low during this pandemic?

SC: 2020 was such an incredible year for books! Which feels somewhat perverse to say, considering everything else was dismal and it was hardly an easy year to put out a book, either. In terms of new poetry releases—and this is not a comprehensive list, so my mea culpas here too to the many that I have loved and will end up accidentally leaving off—I have this year read and loved: Taylor Johnson’s Inheritance, francine j. harris’s Here is the Sweet Hand, Craig Santos Perez’s Habitat Threshold, Jihyun Yun’s Some Are Always Hungry, Eduardo Corral’s Guillotine, Rick Barot’s The Galleons, Jericho Brown’s The Tradition, Shane McCrae’s Sometimes I Never Suffered, Victoria Chang’s Obit, Danez Smith’s Homie, Aricka Foreman’s Salt Body Shimmer, and Natalie Diaz’s Postcolonial Love Poem. Two prior-to-2020 poetry collections that I reread every year are Brigit Pegeen Kelly’s Song and Lucille Clifton’s The Book of Light. I’m currently reading Claudia Rankine’s Just Us and Alice Oswald’s Nobody.

EB: Also what about Lucie Brock-Broido? I know she was a teacher of yours at one time, and she was a professor in my MFA program. I had the pleasure of once sitting in on her lecture, and it was life-changing. Are there any particular poems of hers you would suggest?

SC: I joined Lucie’s summer workshop held at her home in Cambridge, MA the summer after my sophomore year at Wellesley, and I stayed in it until I moved to Atlanta for graduate school in 2012. “Life-changing” is right—in fact, it feels a little too modest. She was transformative. A cosmos-realigner. A hilarious, brilliant, extraordinarily kind meteor. A fox with wings. A unicorn. I could go on, and on. For a reader new to her work, I’d recommend starting with her posthumously published “Giraffe” in The New Yorker. I think “A Girl Ago” and “You Have Harnessed Yourself Ridiculously to This World” from Stay, Illusion (2015) are also remarkable entry points. After that, I would probably recommend reading her collections in this order: first Stay, Illusion; then A Hunger (1988); then The Master Letters (1997); and finally Trouble in Mind (2005). The sequencing here isn’t intended as a ranking in the least—my own personal favorites toggle back and forth depending on where my own “trouble in mind” lives, and each collection is dazzlingly strong and has its own raison d’être—but rather because I think the story those collections tell in that order would let a new reader have a full sense of Lucie’s poetics outside of the story that mere chronology can tell.

EB: Any advice for aspiring young poets?

SC: Filament, filament, filament. Let your writing life be as huge and wild and disparate as the whole person you are—don’t feel like there’s only a part of you that’s “worthy of poetry,” and don’t let anyone else tell you what kind of writer you should or shouldn’t be.

EB: Thank you, Sumita! That was wonderful.

#wellesley writes it #wellesleywritesit #wellesley #wellesley underground #wellesleyunderground #sumita chakraborty #eb bartels #e.b. bartels #class of 2008 #class of 2010 #poet #poetry #writer #writers

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haec-est-fides · 5 years ago

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Octavian in The Tyrant’s Tomb

Or rather, the lack thereof. You all know I’m salty about this, so here’s the official rant.

First, let’s look at where he was mentioned. Exactly twice.

“The legion had no high priest, no pontifex maximus. Their former augur, my descendant Octavian, had died in the battle against Gaia. (Which I had a hard time feeling sad about, but that’s another story.)”

This one really hit me because it’s primarily just another instance of Apollo’s unnecessary sass. In The Hidden Oracle, he seemed to at least recognize his own fault in the matter for a split second: “A voice whispered in the back of my mind. This time I thought it might be my conscience: Who was the stupid boy? It wasn’t Octavian.” What happened to that? I get it, Rick knows that most fans hate Octavian. Ha ha. What’s important is that Apollo also thinks this way about Gaius Caligula and Nero, who are also his descendants. For all his character development, and for all the similarities between himself and these people he despises, Apollo can’t seem to wrap his head around the fact that yeah, they all got this from him. It’s one of the last bastions of Apollo’s ego and hypocrisy, and I don’t think it’s ever going to be addressed.

It’s half-heartedly joked that there are no “adults in the room” in New Rome anymore. Reyna notices a difference in the dynamic of the Senate. Apollo is expected to do all the ceremonial duties regarding Jason’s funeral. Beyond this, the book never once directly admits that Octavian’s absence has otherwise impacted New Rome. Or how his family reacted to his death. Sure the chaotic state of the community may play a role in this, but more on it later.

Apollo has mentioned in ToA that, of all his godly memories, he specifically remembers his talks with Octavian. I for one am very interested in this “other story” that Rick refuses to explore.

““Praetors often partner up. In power. But also romantically, I mean. I thought Jason. Then for a hot minute, Percy Jackson. Gods help me, I even considered Octavian.” [Reyna] shuddered.”

This mention is purely throwaway; it’s meant to show how truly desperate Reyna was feeling. For the record, I respect Reyna’s subplot, for all I care about it at all. I think it’s hilarious how clearly repulsed she sounds at herself for even considering dating Octavian. Let’s be clear: this isn’t her admitting she ever liked him, or - gods forbid - had a crush. This is Reyna commenting on how oppressive the expectations of society are on single women. What’s funnier to me is that Octavian would have 100% turned her down, and her self esteem would have been toast. Good for her for sticking to her heart and not letting the world tell her what to do.

Moving on, what’s more important is how Octavian wasn’t mentioned. I've said before that Riordan’s decision to flat out ignore Octavian has led to some minor but annoying continuity issues.

On a purely practical note, Octavian was a prominent, active member of a religion, a government, and a military. New Rome doesn’t have an augur. As Jason’s funeral shows, Apollo had to take up the associated religious duties. But how did New Rome handle honoring those who died in the war with Gaia? Or those who were more recently lost, in the fighting with Tarquin? How has the operation of the legion and senate shifted? Who replaced him as centurion of the first? What is it like to not be able to seek the gods’ approval via augury? Who approves new recruits, checks their credentials and assigns them to cohorts, and eventually gives them their tattoos? Who awards mural crowns and other military distinctions? New Rome has been without an augur before, as it’s a rare gift, but these questions still need to be answered for the community to operate.

Back to Octavian’s family! His family is said to have been the oldest, richest, and most influential family in New Rome. Octavian is at least a 3rd generation camper, his family going back a hundred years or more. This is stressed in HoO because it’s used to show just how “entitled” and stuck up he is, but now? It’s not mentioned at all. No mourning, no help in Rome’s time of crisis, nothing. Unless by Octavian’s “family” Riordan was solely referring to the Triumvirate and Octavian was a member of an Imperial Household the whole time, this is ridiculous. I need to write a whole post about this, because Octavian’s life is fascinating when you consider what implications this has.

As Gaius and Commodus are attacking New Rome with their fleet of yachts, New Rome’s navy gets brought up. I know Apollo isn’t the best narrator on this point, but all that’s mentioned is the sad boat Percy used for the Alaska quest. That small fleet of very nice speedboats that Octavian funded for the attack on Camp Half-Blood? Nope. Is this just Apollo being out of the loop? What happened to New Rome’s fleet?

With New Rome in chaos, this last point is really more of a nit pick, but can we please remember that Octavian led a very willing camp to war? Even before the Argo II disaster, even before Octavian spoke out at the Senate, the lares and legionnaires in the streets showed anti-Greek sentiment. The 5th cohort was “Greeks and geeks.” When Octavian proposed war, he had the legion on his side. As soon as Reyna left to go help with the Athena Parthenos, the centurions were ready to disobey her and follow Octavian. Even in the final battle of HoO, only the 4th and 5th cohorts really start to turn against him. All of this backs a very important, but largely ignored, point: you can lead a horse to the Senate, but you can’t make it vote. We see none of that tension in New Rome now. I get that most of the legion is dead, and that’s a huge part of it, but no one spoke out at all. We don’t see anyone with the opinion that Octavian did save Rome and defeat Gaia. We don’t see him get any funerary honors (which makes the book’s message concerning death all the more hypocritical). When Gaius confronts Frank - “Praetor Zhang, you are duty-bound to recognize Roman authority, and we are it! Together, we can rebuild this camp and raise your legion to glory!” - he’s right. But we don’t see a single legionnaire hesitate.

I get that New Rome isn’t Riordan’s favorite, and that to develop the Romans would require a whole series of its own, but the sheer shallowness of New Rome just felt lazy. Even mentioning Octavian’s legacy would have done so much to show us more about Camp Jupiter. How is he remembered? A hero? A tyrant? A martyr? A fraud?

#octavian #trials of apollo #toa #heroes of olympus #hoo #new rome #camp jupiter #rick riordan #filodox!

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lunavadash-creates · 5 years ago

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Empyrean

A/N It was a sudden idea, but I fell in love with the concept. Pairing: Ezio Auditore/OC Words: 6221 Warning: mention of death

Prologue

It was a beautiful day in Florence with a cloudless sky and warm sun rays shining on the wide streets full of people. Giant flower carts standing in strategic places were trying to overcome the smell of the Arno river. Everything in this city was beautiful and fancy like it was shouting for the whole world to hear that it’s wealthy and prosperous. She had no idea that the city had changed so much during her absence, and it was so much more amazing than she remembered it. It seemed to be even bigger, full of wonders out of this world. She didn’t remember seeing buildings as big and as beautiful as the ones now. Florence itself was like a true wonderland, not an average city she grown up in. Surprisingly she thought that it was good to be home. She came back only a week ago, after the death of her dearest aunt, who was raising her instead of her parents. Flora knew the exact reason why they sent her away, but now, forced to live again in Florence, she was trying to act normal, trying to pretend to be normal. It was hard, considering the fact, that among all those people walking around the main square she could see ephemeral almost transparent figures flowing in the air.

Spirits, lost souls, ghosts of the dead bounded to this world by their unfinished businesses, anger, sadness, love, curses, desires and othe unknown reasons. And she was able to see all of them, suffering and longing for the lost life. She took a deep breath and looked down, trying to focus on a book, she was reading but the urge to listen and watch people around was too big for her to resist. She rose her gaze again to devour the view. She missed people, being surrounded by a loud, colourful crowd of warm, material bodies. There weren’t too many people in the countryside she lived so she used to spend a lot of time with her aunt and ghosts, even when they travelled it was only to helped trapped souls of the damned. It was a good life, noble but lonely. She felt surprisingly good seeing all those people of Florence, even if she wasn’t part of any group. But who knows, maybe she will be able to make some living friends? Unfortunately, among all those people she had seen at least three ghosts and she didn’t want to drag their attention, not yet anyway, she was supposed to act normal, and talking with ghosts didn’t belong to that category. Soon she noticed two girls sitting close to her, the wore beautiful red dresses, and their hair was braided into complicated plaits. For sure they were rich aristocrats, it was visible in their gestures, way of talking, and the clothes they wore. But their voices were nice to listen, so she focused on them. They were discussing men and all their assets; who is the most handsome, rich, influential. And among different names, there was one that particularly took her attention. She had no idea who was Cesare Borgia, but that name was truly interesting. As far as she heard he was rich and important, a man holding great power, perfect party for aristocratic ladies, right? And he was unmarried. Flora smiled to herself, trying to imagine a man from their description, she had no idea if he was young or old, but he had to be very handsome, otherwise, those women wouldn’t be talking about him with that amount of excitement.

“Oh my God, Ezio is back?” one of them suddenly asked nervously, changing the topic of their conversation and reaching for her perfect hair, trying to make it even better. The second one was no less amazed by this whole Ezio, so Flora decided to see that object of their new fascination. She followed their gazes and saw a handsome man in amazing, white robes, who was walking down the street with a smile on his face and confidence emanating from him like he was the most important person in this city. But what caught her attention was not him nor a woman he was talking to. These two were surrounded by death, ghosts were following them closely, looking at them with pure desperation. Both ghosts were shimmering with dimmed light, but one of them had a glimpse of redness in his form. For a short second her gaze crossed with one of the ghosts and on that moment, she knew she was screwed. She looked away quickly, but it was already too late, as soon both of them stopped following the pair and looked at her with confusion and hope.

“You can see us, right?” she heard a voice, nervous, shaking and seemingly distant.

She ignored it, focusing on her book. Rarely this technique had worked, but it was always worth a try. She gasped loudly when a pale face emerged from pages of her lecture. The white, shimmering figure sat on a bench, crossing his arms in front of him, and looking at her with a piercing gaze. It was a ghost of a young man, confident, handsome, hopeful. He frowned when girl ignored him, pretending not to see him.

“I’m sure she can see us” she heard the voice of the second ghost, who was approaching her slowly and soon stand right next to her, bending a little to reach her ear.

“Don’t be afraid, dear. Nod if you can see us, we will not hurt you” he promised softly. She sighed deeply, and again she put her book down on her laps, slowly stroking the hardcover of it, like a treasure, thinking about what to do. She wanted to ignore them, pretend to be normal, but she couldn’t. They were trapped, probably unaware of their state, and she wanted to help them. She was too kind-hearted to ignore such suffering, so in the end, ghosts could see a slight nod of her head.

Suddenly she took her book and turned on her heel to walk away, fortunately, both ghosts followed her closely, she could feel that cold, piercing, intense sensation that was sending shivers down her spine. Years ago, she hoped that one day she will get used to that feeling but that never happened. Even now she felt tense and cold when ghosts were close to her. They were emanating with coolness, making her skin tingle and all those tiny hair rises.

She was walking fast through Florence, looking for a perfect spot to talk with ghosts, she didn’t want to attract attention, people weren’t too lenient when it comes to “talking with oneself”, that was causing too many problems which she couldn’t afford to make one right now.

It had taken some time but, in the end, she finally found a place, peaceful and quiet, unfortunately, near the cemetery. That shouldn’t be suspicious even if someone would catch her talking to the grave, in the end, people have dealt with mourning in different ways. She sat on a little, stone bench near the entrance before she looked at ghosts, ready to hear their wishes.

“Everyone ignores us! Acting like we’re not even here! Why are they doing this?” the younger man was a bit irritated; he couldn’t understand what was going on. The second ghost frown, nodding his head in agreement. They both stood before her, visibly demanding an explanation, answer that would help them understand what had been happening to them all this time.

“Let’s start from the beginning,” she started slowly, calmly. She should tell them the truth, but gently, not to scare or upset them. But was there any gentle way to tell them that?

“I’m very sorry to be the one telling you this but… people around cannot see you because you are… dead.”

It was far too easy for ghosts to turn into evil spirits and she was still seeing that glimpse of redness in the older man. She had to be careful with that one, but at the same time truth had to be spoken first. She was w bit nervous about their reaction, she had seen plenty of ghost’s outburst, it was very dangerous. At the same time, it was very common for ghosts to not be aware of their death and those two were no exception. They were equally confused by her words, probably took it as a joke before sudden realization hit them like a wrecking ball. In the end – that explained everything.

“Uberto. That cursed traitor!” the older man shouted, making woman shiver a little by this sudden outburst. The man swung his hand out of anger at the fence of the cemetery, but his hand went straight through it, proving that he was no more but a spirit.

“Calm down, calm down!” she asked, standing for a moment and looking him straight in the eyes. “whatever happened it’s too late. Please, calm down, you don’t want to hurt anyone, do you?” she hoped there was no panic in her voice, but she was the nearest living being and didn’t want to end up wounded or dead. Angry ghosts were dangerous!

Fortunately, that worked, for now, and the ghost took a deep breath, or at least he looked like doing so. It was a cruel fate to become a ghost trapped in a merciless world, sentenced for almost eternal banishment, but since now she was here, they both had a chance to find their salvation and peace.

“My name is Flora and I can help you go to the other side. You cannot stay here so we must find what is binding you to this world. What are your names?”

“Where are our manners?! Mi dispiace, Bella. I’m Federico Auditore da Firenze”

“And I’m his father, Giovanni Auditore da Firenze. I’m very sorry for my outburst”

Both of them bowed elegantly like true noblemen before deciding to sit next to her on that little stone bench, making her shiver a little bit more. She hated when ghosts decided to stay too close, but she couldn’t do anything about that. Ghosts were thinking and seeing the world differently from the living ones and were completely unaware of that fact. Dealing with them was more like trying to solve a very fragile yet dangerous mystery, one mistake and everything would be destroyed.

“That’s fine. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she started politely, as she was taught. She had to restrain her emotions, keep calm. “So now focus, please. Usually, there are a few things that can keep people from moving further. Lack of proper burial, unfinished businesses and objects or people holding important memories. We are near the cemetery, so I suggest looking for your graves. Or… maybe you know what can keep you here?”

“You don’t seem to be surprised by us. Is it… an ordinary situation for you?” Federico asked nicely, couldn’t help his curiosity. In the end, she was a woman, she was supposed to look pretty and take care of the house and her future husband, not roam the city and talking with ghosts. Yet frown, looking closely at her form, without a doubt he would be interested in her if they met in different circumstances. Surprisingly, for now, he was simply lost, not sure what to do. Yes, after his father outburst he remembered the fear, voice and sudden sharp pain that ended so quick…

“You are not the first ghosts I’m seeing nor the first one I’m going to help. So please, focus. I don’t want to be rude, but you have to cross over as far as possible, being here is dangerous both for you and people in the city” she tried to explain the situation for them.

“I don’t know, bella, what might keep me here. I don’t know what happened to our bodies after…” Federico sent her a wanly smile, before standing up. Giovanni looked at her, lost deep in his thoughts. He followed her on the cemetery but didn’t speak until she stopped near the little white tomb, probably one of a little kid.

“I don’t remember. I mean I remember things but not everyone. I feel like my memories are shattered into pieces and I cannot focus on them. How can I know what keeps me here?” that was a valid point that made her stop again, this time near some very old, forgotten grave.

“I am not a specialist Giovanni and my theory probably have a lot of holes but ghosts I met usually had parts of their memories back after we found some kind of a trigger. For example, after seeing a grave they remembered how they died or after seeing a family member they remembered the feeling towards them, secrets they shared. What do you know about yourself right now?”

“My name, my wife, Maria, my three children Federico, Ezio and Claudia. I was an assassin, lived by the creed but I don’t remember anything else.”

She nodded, sending him a comforting smile. Assassin? Creed? She had no clue what he was talking about, but ghosts couldn’t lie so she could only accept that that information.

“Don’t worry Giovanni, you will have your memory back”

There were no people in the cemetery, so she felt quite comfortable while talking with a ghost, wandering around the cemetery. As much as she liked being surrounded by people, she never actually fit among them. It was so difficult to keep her ability hidden from others and while being among ghosts, she preferred to be alone. Soon she got distracted and, lost in thoughts, she wandered around, looking at all those names, craved in murmur and granite. So many dead people, she wondered how many of them were waiting for a judgment day or different medium, ready to help. Fate was really cruel, and the worst part was that there was nothing to do to avoid it. Giovanni was following her, looking around, he seemed to be calmer right now. red shimmer almost completely disappeared.

She stopped, when she heard Federico shouting at them, claiming, he had found the grave they were looking for. It was a dirty and quite old tomb with dusty letters forming into names Giovani Auditore, Federico Auditore, Petruccio Auditore – three men… no, not men. Two men and a child. She frowned, looking at the inscription and soon she turned to look at the ghosts, standing still next to her. There were only two of them, was it possible that only the child went to the other side? She really hoped so because spirits of children were the worst and she didn’t want to deal with it. She was going to ask Giovanni since he told her that he had 3 children, was it possible that he had forgotten one of them?

“Traitors are not worth remembering”

She turned suddenly only to face an old man, local undertaker probably. He was supporting himself on a shovel, partly dipped in the ground. His look was glued to the names on the grave. The man was old, wrinkled, but his eyes were still bright and penetrating. He watched her appraisingly, but there was madness, anger hidden deep in his soul, that was now showing in his eyes. Flora ignored every alarming bell, that rang in her body only to asked him.

“Do you know who they were?”

“Auditores? Of course, everyone knows them! Those three were hanged twenty years ago for treason, their bodies have never been found. It’s not even a true grave, more like memorial made by Giovanni’s boy. The only one who survived, but he very rarely visits Florence nowadays”

“Treason? Oh, god, that’s terrible!” she said honestly. That would explain a lot since sudden death was the main reason for people to have unfinished businesses and traitors were usually objects of vengeance.

“Don’t regret the dead, girl. And go home, a lone woman shouldn’t visit the graveyard on her own. Run.” he said darkly and quickly tear out the shovel from the ground, making Flora jump away. His dark laughter was hunting, so she turned around, determined to run away as far as possible, but both ghosts blocked her path.

“We aren’t traitors! That was guile! Templar’s scum wanted us dead because we are the only ones who could stop them from fulfilling the prophecy!” Giovanni was again angry, and his redness became more visible, he was furious, ready to break something or someone.

“Father, calm down, you are scaring her!” Federico stood in front of him, trying to put some sense into him. Again, the man calmed down, ashamed of his behaviour.

“Signore, signore! Please wait, can you tell me more about those Auditores?” she shouted, running after that scary undertaker. She was almost terrified of him, but no living person could match an evil spirit. She would rather deal with him than with Giovanni.

“You poor, stupid girl. There is nothing more. Their home is standing empty, the family moved out of Florence and my patience is running low. And you don’t want to wake up the dead with your reckless screaming and inquisitiveness, do you?” now this man became even scarier and dangerous. His voice was more like a roar, deep and piercing. That man was far from being normal and his unfounded anger was terrifying. This time she had no intention to push his patience more and just run away, as he told her. Why she had always met crazy people? Dead or alive – it didn’t matter, she just had no luck with people in general and what was more, she felt that that man will haunt her in nightmares.

“You are not buried here!” she said, when she finally stopped running away, her breath was sharp and quick, voice hoarse. She needed a few moments to calm down and gather her thoughts. They were not buried properly, but somehow, she felt that it wasn’t the source of their problems, after twenty years there wouldn’t be much left of their bodies anyway. There were so much more hidden in their past, she was sure of it after seeing the second outburst of Giovanni. Somehow, she felt that ghosts in front of her had never had normal lives.

“Templar’s scum, prophecy, assassins. I have no idea what those are, but it seems that they are the cause of your strong feelings. What about you Federico?”

The younger man looked at her confused, not sure about this. Those words were awakening some strange feelings, faded memories inside him but he didn’t feel like it was actually a cause of his confinement. There was something more, someone. He could see that blurred outline of a woman in a long dress, but he couldn’t remember her name of features. He answered by shaking his head gently, he didn’t know.

“Signorina, what about our home? We lived here before the accident, maybe that place will help us?”

“Good idea, Giovanni,” she said, allowing the ghost to take a lead. She had no idea where their house could be, but it looked like older Auditore remembered the place. She wondered if there were still people living there. If Ezio, his son, was out of Florence, then the house could be sold to support the family. Or Giovanni’s wife could still live there. She could expect a lot of things about that place but be heavily guarded was not one of them. Near the entrance of the house, there were two men with long, sharp swords, few more were positioned nearby. Those mercenaries look tough and merciless, even in her dreams she couldn’t possibly stand a chance again even one of them. She looked at ghosts with wide eyes and turned on her hill, deciding to stay away from that house, every part of her body was screaming that going in there was dangerous.

“It wasn’t guarded when we lived there…” Federico seemed to be worried while looking at the building, he grew up in. This place was holding every memory he would need to become free, but could he expose that girl to a danger?

“Well, that makes it complicated and I would rather avoid those people and their swords. I should go with you because there may be a need for me to take something for you, if any of you is bounded to an object, I must destroy it. So, the only option is probably to wait until the evening and came back when it’ll be dark.”

“We will find a place for you to slip through” Giovanni offered, sending the woman a smile. He was calmer now, more peaceful but Flora could see that redness in his form was no less visible, quite on contrary. That red glimpse was even more noticeable, Giovanni didn’t have much time left. But those guards… She would lie by telling she wasn’t afraid. She was terrified, put between the devil and the deep blue sea. She couldn’t fight guards nor leave a ghost behind since they could start haunting her, so there was no “good” option for her. The only thing she actually could do, was trying to break into that house, go in stealth and run away as quickly as possible, hiding in the darkness. She had no idea if it’d work, but she had to try, Giovanni’s redness was a sign of impending disaster.

Evening came far too soon for her. It was dark outside but now she had needed equipment that included dark cape with a hood, some salt, flints and an iron chain for protection. She also had a dagger, but it was against the living being, in case she had to protect herself in combat, what she would rather avoid.

Hidden behind some bushes, she was waiting for Federico and Giovanni to return to her with information on how was she supposed to slip into that house. She had to do it quietly and fast, guard that was standing near the front doors looked rather dangerous with his shining sword and a torch in his hand, to scatter the darkness around. He was quite tall and very buffy, it was obvious that his muscles carried a great strength, Flora was no match for a person like them. He could break her in two without even putting effort.

“There is a window on the first floor that’s not locked. If you manage to lure guard away you will be able to slip in” Federico appeared so suddenly behind her, that she jumped and shot him an angry look. She wanted to tell him again not to appear so suddenly; in this one day he did it thrice already, but it was no use right now. She had to be quiet now.

Flora moved from her place, going in the right direction until Federico gestured her to stop and pointed at the window that should be unlocked. She bit her lip, even scarier guard was standing there, he looked tired and annoyed, while leaning against the wall with half-closed eyes. Flora decided to improvise a little and took a round rock in her hand just to throw it in the direction of a guard. He flinched at the sound it made and looked around, searching any intruders but in the end, he didn’t move from his post. The woman looked around and found a little wooden stall, standing next to the opposite building. Probably someone was using that for selling vegetables or some trinkets. She picked up another stone and aimed at this stall. She wasn’t sure how big or durable it was, but she certainly didn’t expect that the stone will hit one of the supporting stakes, causing the construction to collapse. Giovanni looked at her disapprovingly, he never supported destroying other people properties and was about to give her a lecture on proper behaving but when the alarmed guard went to investigate, she rushed to the window. She struggled a little to open it, the mechanism got a bit rusty, but in the end, she managed to slip in and close the window again.

“You should not destroy that stand, Flora! What if it was the only source of money for a family or…”

“I didn’t do it or purpose! I just wanted to lure that guard away!” she said, trying to defend herself and stayed calm, but Giovanni only shook his head crossing arms on his chest. It was clear that he had a lot of misbehaving children. She rolled her eyes and took out one candle to light her way around. She went on the first floor, where the family used to live and but stopped midstep, looking around. This place was beautiful, even if it was dark inside. Beautiful paintings were decorating walls and the furniture looked so expensive. After taking a closer look she could recognise willow wood and amazing decorations, inlays of ivory and gold. No wonder that this place was guarded! She was probably in the main room because there was a table made of dark wood with caryatids supporting its weight; around were standing sgabellos, excellently made chairs with patterns so rich that it reminded her of endless circles of water crashing with each other. There were also big mirrors with golden frames, she saw in one her own reflection and her lips twitched at the sight. She was standing in the dusty, dark and abandon room, wearing a black cape, with a candle in one hand surrounded by ghosts. She chuckled darkly, how ironic! She was aristocrat, she should be sleeping in her room, waiting for a new day to come and shine bright like a diamond, attract men, make them lose their minds for her and only her, how life could be so strange, to put that curse on her and change everything?

“Where do you want to look for? Federico? Giovanni?”

“I want to go to my room,” said Federico, showing her staircase again and leading her to his room. She wasn’t surprised to see the big, richly decorated room of a young aristocrat. She looked around with visible curiosity, most of the furniture were hidden under white cloaks to prevent dust from gathering.

“You never could keep this place tidy” she heard Giovanni sigh and laughed a little, seeing as Federico rolled his eyes theatrically. But he started looking around and Flora soon joined him, putting a candle on a holder. She opened one of the drawers, looking at different papers. She even found a journal and frowned, she wanted to read it, curious about what secrets could be hidden in it. She had no intention of using it against anyone, it was just undying inquisitiveness. She opened it and soon Federico was next to her.

“I was looking for it! Yes!” he said enthusiastically, trying to grab the book. His hand went straight through it, causing him to groan. Flora turned pages for him to see the most recent notes and soon it was clear what probably kept him here. A woman.

“Gabrielle… I remember now! I wanted to court her, I… I bought a necklace for her as a gift. I was supposed to give it to her, we were…we wanted to meet on that day but they…” Federico looked frantically around like he was about to panic. Giovanni looked at his son before he reached for his arm and shook him by it. The sudden realisation must have hit him now, he looked so fragile and sad, desperation was emanating from his cold form. Flora couldn’t do much to help him, whoever was, she probably moved on if she was alive.

“Flora can find that necklace, right?”

“It’s probably somewhere here,” she assured him, starting look for it. She opened every drawer, chest and wardrobe, finding some more papers, coins, trinkets, and some strange plans and maps, even weapons! In the end, she found a little box with a gold necklace that was sitting hidden under one of his many pillows on the bed. She opened a box to make sure that it’s the piece of jewellery she was looking for and showed it to Federico, who again tried to grab it but yet again he failed. The necklace was made of milky pearls and would suit perfectly every lady, even Flora was impressed with it, she rarely had seen so nice jewellery. That Gabrielle would be one of the luckiest women in Florence if Federico was still alive. A pity that fate was so cruel.

“I need to see Gabrielle, I want her to have it, to remember me, can you do it, Flora? I beg you I have to make sure…” he said quietly with shaking voice, looking at her like a broken man. Flora nodded in response, giving him a warm smile.

“If this will help you find your peace, then of course! I know it must be hard for you but… I’m so sorry Federico,” she said quietly, hiding the box in her bag.

“Now, Giovanni, where should we look for your cause? Bedroom? Other room?”

“No. I remember, my dear, who I am. Or I should probably say who I was. I need you to open a secret room in my office, something tells me that there is something important.” He said, pointing her direction. She didn’t quite understand why he needed a secret room but who was she to judge? She just went back on the lowest floor trying to be noiseless, entered Giovanni’s office and stood in front of a plain wall with painting on it, seeing nothing unusual about this place. Just a simple room with bookstand and a big desk.

“This, Flora. You have to push and turn this painting, then the entrance will open”

“Will it be loud? I don’t want the guard to hear it”

“No, it couldn’t be loud, that would drag unwanted attention”

After turning the painting, the wall moved itself, opening another room in front of them. It was a little space with a golden chest in front of the entrance. At the top of it was a strange symbol she couldn’t recognise, but it probably had a meaning, maybe even an important one? Flora opened that chest, but it was completely empty. She frowned, turning to face bookshelves near the wall. She loved literature, so that place took her interest immediately. Her eyes caught the attention of the same strange symbol as in the chest on several books. She took one of them to take a better look.

“Take it” she heard a silent whisper of Federico. She obeyed, putting it in her bag and took another that was pointed to her by him. She would never miss the opportunity to gain some knowledge. She smiled at the ghost and turned around to face Giovanni. And that was a mistake. His appearance was changing, he was turning red, anger was emanating from his form, the temperature in the room dropped drastically and soon everything began to shake a little.

“He took it. Ezio took everything, documents that were supposed to compromise De’ Pazzi Family. Yet they had won that battle and now I am dead! Federico is dead, my little Petruccio is dead, Ezio and Claudia are no longer here and my wife, my love she’s…” he didn’t finish, letting himself drown in anger and sadness that filled him like a poison.

Suddenly every lying object rose from its place, picked up by cold, strong wind that surrounded Giovanni’s ghost. Objects started to fly around the room, making Flora step back to the office again. The situation there was no better, everything was flying, crashing with each other, hitting walls, shelves, mirrors. A paperweight hit the window so hard that the glass had broken into hundreds of tiny shards, that were soon lifted but the same force that caused everything else to move.

“Giovanni, calm down, calm the fuck down!” she screamed. Trying to hide somewhere from that flying objects, but it was no use. She could only try to protect her face with hands, while the ghost was slowly falling into despair. Federico was terrified and was just looking at his father, screaming to him to calm down. Outside the guards were alarmed by the sounds of crashing objects and braking glass, when another window turned into pieces. But one who got closer was almost immediately hit with a big, heavy pyxis, straight in the head, causing him to fall in the ground.

“Giovanni, if you don’t calm down you will turn into the evil spirit! You will never see your family ever again!” she screamed at the man, trying to make him pay attention to her words. “This is your last chance, soon it will be too late! Don’t do it to your family!” she screamed from the top of her lungs, knowing that if she survives this, her voice would turn hoarse later, but it didn’t matter. She tried to get close to Giovanni, but she couldn’t avoid every flying object and soon something hit her back, making her fall on the ground. A piece of glass cut one of her hands.

“Giovanni!”

Ghost looked at her terrified, still fulfilled with sorrow and anger, but seeing blood on her hand, that was now marking the carpet made him lose it all. Everything dropped on the floor as he fell to his knees, hiding face in hands, weeping desperately. Flora rose from the floor and came closer, squatting in front of him.

“Giovanni, it’s fine, I promise! Let’s go, guards are coming!” she said, before running from the office. She jumped over the unconscious guard and run towards the entrance that was now open only to crash with another man. His grip tightened on her wrist painfully.

“You little thief!” her started, but the woman still with adrenaline in her veins, took her dagger and hit him in the head with its hilt. It was strong enough to make man loosen his grip but not enough to knock him out, so she just decided to run, run for her life, like she was being hunted down by the devil himself.

Fortunately for her, it was dark, so she could soon hide from the man, as he was not in sight anymore. Probably he saw his companion and decided to take care of him, maybe he was shocked by the mess Giovanni crated. Either way, she managed to run away and hid between buildings. Her heart was beating so fast, she was afraid that soon she would get a heart stroke. Fortunately, adrenaline started fading away slowly from her veins, making her breath steadier. But while her body was calming down, the pain found its way in, she hissed feeling stinging in her cut hand. Blood was dripping from her fingers, but she had nothing to dress the wound with.

“I’m so sorry, Flora. You showed us so much mercy and I… I…”

“Don’t mention it, Giovanni. You’re in a very… peculiar situation, I’m aware that controlling emotions may be hard for both of you, just… you must try to keep calm. Next time there may be no going back for you. If you turn into an evil spirit, I will have to kill you and that will not give you any guarantee that your soul will be saved” she explained slowly, trying to make her point. It was too important to ignore it, especially that Giovanni was already and the verge of breaking. Ghost nodded in response, letting her show them the way to her home.

She had her room on the first floor but the whole wall was covered in some green bush that allowed her to enter and leave through the window. She jumped into her room, closed window and put the bag down on the floor. She felt so tired right now!

Giovanni looked at her worried and guilty, Federico was strangely silent. Flora ignored them both and soon hide her cloak, weapon and throw her bag under the bed. She commanded the ghosts to close their eyes when she stripped and changed into her sleeping gown. Then she cleaned her hands and with big relief, she found out that her wound was superficial. Unfortunately, it was this place that hurt, but she could endure it. She was lucky that as an aristocrat, she could wear gloves without any suspicion!

“I am so sorry, Flora, forgive me” Giovanni’s voice was silent and lenient. He was a very composed man and he didn’t quite understand what had changed about it, where all those emotions came from and influenced him it the most brutal way, making him lost him equanimity.

“Please… just don’t think about it. I must sleep now, but we will talk tomorrow, make a new plan. Just take under your consideration that other people cannot see or hear you, so try not to make me look weird in front of them. My mother is already not too happy about my presence here and I don’t want to cross that border.”

Both ghosts agreed on her terms and let her sleep. Flora had no idea that right now a messenger was rushing to Monteriggioni to inform Ezio Auditore about an intruder, who had broken into his home and destroyed his father office.

#actsquad #ezio auditore da firenze #assassin's creed #luna writes #ezio auditore #assassin's creed brotherhood #assassin's creed revelations #assassin's creed 2 #claudia auditore #OC #ghost story #giovanni auditore #federico auditore

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mrlnsfrt · 4 years ago

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Heart Matter

What does it take to succeed?

I have read and listened to so many books, articles, podcasts, about leadership, focus, productivity, achievement, success, etc. I find the topic interesting. I want to be good at what I do, I want to improve, I want to be successful. To be honest with you, it is difficult to measure success in ministry, but I guess it is difficult to measure in life in general. Do you measure how much money you make? How much power you have? How influential you are? How many followers you have? How many friends you have? How many members your church has? Your church attendance numbers? How many views your videos get? The number of downloads your podcast gets? How many employees you have? Your rank/position/title at your workplace? Do you measure success by how happy you are? How healthy you are? How much you can bench press? How fast you can run a mile? By the quality of your relationships?

How carefully should I follow the advice of the CEO who is on his third marriage? The entrepreneur who is a millionaire but never managed to make a relationship work longterm? The millionaire who struggles with depression and is deeply unhappy? Are those my goals? What kind of life do I want to live?

Though there are successful men and women who are extremely smart and talented, no one has a perfect life. We are all human beings and we all have our areas of struggle

Saul was chosen to be king. We have no record of his desire to be king. If anything we see in him a degree of hesitation and resistance to being king (see 1 Samuel 10 and my post Making a King). Saul was tall, he was handsome (Tall, Handsome, and Clueless), he won wars (You Shall Have Help). So what was the problem? Saul’s big problem was his faithfulness to God (Obedience During Emergencies).

What we need to understand, and what most leadership books will not tell you, is that at the heart of true success is faithfulness to God. True success is measured in faithfulness to God. The challenges are many with this. How do you measure faithfulness to God? Only you know how faithful you are, it is a heart matter. Another challenge is that there are no shortcuts. We are called to be faithful to God for our whole lives, throughout our lives. Sometimes it feels like success, otherwise, it looks like failure. But we must trust God that faithfulness is what we are called to, and we must be faithful when it is visibly rewarding, and when it feels like failure.

God had given Saul everything he needed to succeed as king (1 Samuel 10: 6-13, 17-24, 11:6-7, 14-15 post post). Directions were simple:

Only fear the Lord, and serve Him in truth with all your heart; for consider what great things He has done for you. But if you still do wickedly, you shall be swept away, both you and your king.” - 1 Samuel 12:24-25 NKJV

Sadly Saul was only faithful when it was convenient. When he saw his soldiers leaving he offered a sacrifice that Samuel was supposed to offer (1 Samuel 13:6-12 Post), later when he was supposed to have killed all the Amalekites, he spared Agag their king (1 Samuel 15:8). As time went by it became more and more clear that Saul was more concerned about his popularity, power, and influence, than he was about being faithful to God (The Abuse and Misuse of Religion). Sadly, faithfulness to God was the key to Saul’s success and Saul had disobeyed God in an attempt to strengthen his position as king.

The first king Israel had was what they had asked for, a king like all the nations (1 Samuel 8:5 post). This time, God would choose a king after His own heart (1 Samuel 13:14).

Time for Samuel to take a trip.

Now the Lord said to Samuel, “How long will you mourn for Saul, seeing I have rejected him from reigning over Israel? Fill your horn with oil, and go; I am sending you to Jesse the Bethlehemite. For I have provided Myself a king among his sons.” - 1 Samuel 16:1 NKJV

This time we see Samuel for the first time not being sure of what to do. Samuel is aware of Saul’s desire to hold on to the throne and fears for his life. Samuel is an incredibly powerful and influential figure, and it is not difficult to imagine that if he anointed someone word would get to Saul. Samuel’s actions could even lead to a rebellion, the overthrowing of Saul, or a civil war. The people must have been aware that Saul had been rejected by God, and this would have caused everyone to be extra aware of Samuel’s moves since he had anointed Saul as Israel’s first king.

Did God tell Samuel to lie?

And Samuel said, “How can I go? If Saul hears it, he will kill me.”

But the Lord said, “Take a heifer with you, and say, ‘I have come to sacrifice to the Lord.’ Then invite Jesse to the sacrifice, and I will show you what you shall do; you shall anoint for Me the one I name to you.” - 1 Samuel 16:2-3 NKJV

Some might be tempted to argue along the lines of God makes the rules so He can make exceptions, so you should not lie unless God tells you to. However, when I look at Jesus dying on the cross, because the law demanded blood, death, of those who broke it (Genesis 2:17; Romans 5:12; Romans 6:23). Jesus had to die in our place because God’s law demanded it (2 Corinthians 5:21), and if God did not change His law to save the life of His Son, I doubt He would make exceptions for Samuel. So what is happening here? God’s will is not to begin a revolution, not to dethrone Saul and instate David right away. God wants David to know that he has been chosen to be king, much like Saul knew he would be king before anyone else knew (1 Samuel 9, post). So this anointing was important, especially for David, and Samuel, and eventually everyone else, but only when the time came.

Samuel would go there to Sacrifice to the Lord. For anyone who was interested, that was the reason for Samuel’s travel to Bethlehem. Samuel’s meeting with David was a private matter. In other words, Saul had no right to that information. The way I see it, Samuel was not lying, he was simply keeping things private, in other words, it was none of Saul’s business.

The elders trembled

It seems odd that the elders would tremble at the coming of Samuel. One interesting thought I read on this is that they might have thought there was an unsolved murder since Deuteronomy 21:1-9 calls for a ceremony involving a heifer. Another explanation was that Samuel was last seen rebuking king Saul and hacking Agag, king of the Amalekites, into pieces (1 Samuel 15:32-33) and they were afraid of what he might do next. Ultimately we can only speculate on why the elders were trembling, but they were relieved to find out Samuel had come peaceably. Samuel told them to sanctify or consecrate themselves, probably involved washing and putting on clean clothes and avoiding anything that would make them ceremonially unclean (Exodus 19:10, 14; Leviticus 7:19-21; 15:2-33; Numbers 19:11-22; Deuteronomy 23:10-11). Samuel then consecrates Jesse and his sons and invited them to the sacrifice.

This situation is unique in that no one knows exactly all that will happen. Samuel has more knowledge than anyone, but even he does not know who he will anoint. When Samuel sees Eliab, Jesse’s firstborn (1 Samuel 17:13) he was sure that he would be the next king of Israel. But he was mistaken.

Heart Matter

But the Lord said to Samuel, “Do not look at his appearance or at his physical stature, because I have refused him. For the Lord does not see as man sees; for man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.” - 1 Samuel 16:7 NKJV

Saul, Israel’s first king, looked like royalty, he was tall and handsome (1 Samuel 9:2 post). But Israel’s second king was not going to be chosen based on appearances, he was not to be like the kings of all the other nations (1 Samuel 8:5 post), rather he was going to be a man after God’s own heart (1 Samuel 13:14).

His success would not be because he was tall (though research seems to show that taller men make more money). God has this habit of turning conventional wisdom on its head.

But God has chosen the foolish things of the world to put to shame the wise, and God has chosen the weak things of the world to put to shame the things which are mighty; and the base things of the world and the things which are despised God has chosen, and the things which are not, to bring to nothing the things that are, that no flesh should glory in His presence. - 1 Corinthians 1:27-29 NKJV

We judge by appearances. It is hard not to. We make snap judgments based on appearances. The moment we see someone we decide how we feel about them. Since we cannot keep this from happening, what we can do is become aware of our bias, of our snap judgment, and try to hold back acting on it, and allow the person to reveal the contents of her character over time. I am not saying that appearances are not important, I am saying that appearances are not the most important factor. If you are going to invest heavily, invest in developing your character, your mind, your heart. Dress, well, be clean and neat and healthy. But invest heavily in being kind, honest, reliable. There are a lot of pretty faces in the world. Some people are born incredibly beautiful. We are limited regarding what we can do with our appearance. But showing up on time, having a positive attitude, refusing to give up, are achievable goals. Instead of complaining about not being very tall, or certain aspects of your appearance, focus on what you can shape and change.

You should care for yourself. Make sure you’re getting at least 7 hours of sleep, drinking plenty of water, eating healthy meals, getting exercise regularly, fresh air, some sunlight. When you do this you are investing in yourself. Take a class, learn a new skill, read a book. With the internet, there are endless opportunities to learn useful skills. Invest in yourself. Never stop learning. Stay curious, stay humble, spend time with God daily. Pray often. Who knows the plans that God has for you?

So Jesse called Abinadab, and made him pass before Samuel. And he said, “Neither has the Lord chosen this one.” Then Jesse made Shammah pass by. And he said, “Neither has the Lord chosen this one.” Thus Jesse made seven of his sons pass before Samuel. And Samuel said to Jesse, “The Lord has not chosen these.” And Samuel said to Jesse, “Are all the young men here?” Then he said, “There remains yet the youngest, and there he is, keeping the sheep.” - 1 Samuel 16:8-11 NKJV

This is the first time we witness Samuel at a loss. Jesse made seven of his sons pass before Samuel and even Samuel is a bit confused. When he had spotted Saul God spoke to him and it made perfect sense (1 Samuel 9:15-17). Now Samuel is not sure what is happening so he asks Jesse if anyone is missing. Interestingly one is missing. Jesse has one son, the youngest one, the one who gets stuck watching the sheep while his father and brothers go meet with Samuel who is likely the most influential figure in Israel since Moses. David ranked so low no one expected him to be significant enough to even be present for the sacrifice.

A fellow pastor once compared shepherds to cowboys. He argued that we (in the west) are too far removed from the figure of the shepherd and have a domesticated view of what it means to watch sheep. It is clean and cute and peaceful.

Jacob gives us a more realistic picture of what it meant to be a shepherd.

These twenty years I have been with you; your ewes and your female goats have not miscarried their young, and I have not eaten the rams of your flock. That which was torn by beasts I did not bring to you; I bore the loss of it. You required it from my hand, whether stolen by day or stolen by night. There I was! In the day the drought consumed me, and the frost by night, and my sleep departed from my eyes. - Genesis 31:38-40 NKJV

So why compare it to cowboys? Well, you are less likely to think that a cowboy has an easy life. Though you might be inclined to think of shepherds as having an easy life. Just to review what Jacob shared about his experience as a shepherd, shepherds had to deal with birth and miscarriages, attacks from wild beasts, thieves by day and night, plus the weather, drought by day and frost by night, and very little sleep or rest. Sounds like a pretty hazardous job, the kind that extremely demanding in multiple ways requiring physical fitness, mental sharpness, and bravery.

I sometimes wonder how I would have felt if I had been David. Would I have been resentful of my father and brothers for leaving me taking care of sheep while they went to enjoy a meal with the prophet? Would I have done a terrible job as a shepherd just so someone else would have to do it in my place?

The Smallest

By contrast with Saul, David was not the tallest, rather he is described as קָטָן (qatan) the “smallest” often translated as the youngest, it can also mean the least important. David did not look important. His father and brothers did not consider him important. When it came to David, what mattered most was the content of his heart. There in nature, taking care of sheep, David was being molded by God. The hardships, the quiet, the constant contact with nature caused David to ponder the power and majesty of God. Just read the book of Psalms and you will know what I am talking about.

The heavens declare the glory of God; And the firmament shows His handiwork. Day unto day utters speech, And night unto night reveals knowledge. There is no speech nor language Where their voice is not heard. - Psalm 19:1-3 NKJ

The fact that God chose the youngest of Jesse’s sons seems odd at first, but then you realize that God has a habit of confounding social norms. Think of Abel, Seth, Noah, Isaac, Jacob, Rachel, Joseph, Ephraim, Moses, and maybe Abraham. Regarding his appearance, David was reddish, we don’t know if it meant his hair, like in the case of Esau (Genesis 25:24) or if it meant his skin, some believe it meant a healthy reddish color. Was he sunburned? Was he a redhead? Was his skin similar in some way to that of some Native Americans? Does it really matter? He had bright or beautiful eyes. He was the one. He was not as tall or handsome as his older brothers, but he wasn’t ugly. What qualified David was his heart, we know that God chose him because of his character, the physical description is what everyone else sees.

Then Samuel took the horn of oil and anointed him in the midst of his brothers; and the Spirit of the Lord came upon David from that day forward. So Samuel arose and went to Ramah. - 1 Samuel 16:13 NKJV

David’s anointing is much more low-key than Saul’s. No series of confirming events, no fancy prophesying (1 Samuel 10 post), just and anointing, and just like that Samuel leaves.

If I was David I would have had so many questions! Now what? What do I do next? Imagine finding out you will be the next king of Israel, then going back to tend sheep. So here is what I take away from this. Especially for the younger crowd but this goes for all.

You don’t know exactly the plans that God has for you, for your future. But we know that God has called you, to be faithful to Him. So right now, as you go about your life, as you do your equivalent of taking care of sheep. As you face trials and dangers and discomfort. Do you notice God’s hand guiding you and preparing you for what He has in store for you? Do you see your current situation as an opportunity to further develop your heart? As an opportunity to draw closer to God? Do you see this pandemic as an opportunity to make some very important and necessary changes in your life?

God cares about the condition of the heart. And some time int he wilderness taking care of sheep can be beneficial. Moses did it for 40 years (Acts 7:30), Jacob also had to take care of sheep (Genesis 31:38-40), Jesus spent 40 days in the wilderness (Luke 4:1-2), Elijah was struggling with depression and went on a 40-day hike (1 Kings 19:4-8). Maybe you’re having a wilderness experience right now. Maybe you’re feeling vulnerable, or alone, lonely, scared, hurt. Perhaps this is an opportunity for you to work on your heart, to invite Jesus in, to grow stronger. It really does not matter how tall you are, the color of your hair, eyes, or skin. God looks at your heart, and even though the journey might be long, God wants to use you to do great things for him. Others might not see it in you. They may be oblivious to your potential just like David’s family was to his. What matters is your heart, and only you and God know the condition of your heart.

I would like to take this opportunity to ask that you take care of your heart, your character. Invite Jesus in and allow Him to clean it up as necessary fo His honor and glory.

I would like to close with the words of David, the man after God’s own heart. maybe you can make these words your prayer today.

Create in me a clean heart, O God, And renew a steadfast spirit within me. Do not cast me away from Your presence, And do not take Your Holy Spirit from me.

Restore to me the joy of Your salvation, And uphold me by Your generous Spirit. Then I will teach transgressors Your ways, And sinners shall be converted to You. - Pslam 51:10-13 NKJV

#Narrative #Old Testament #David

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dustyphantom · 5 years ago

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Random Edelbert fluff

Suggested by @cambriamath

Please note I've yet to play Crimson Flower

Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Apologies if it's OOC.

Also pretty long, roughly 1885 words

*MAJOR CRIMSON FLOWER SPOILERS AHEAD*

Rain pattered against the window panes, the only noise in the otherwise silent room. The dismal gray sky outside loomed overhead, blocking the sun's warm, comforting rays from reaching the capital city of Enbarr. Light split the air and shortly followed by the sky's grieving howl.

They had won. The Empire was successful. They had suppressed the other countries and dismantled the Church of Seiros. But even so, Edelgard mourned. And still, the empire mourned, for all those lost, for those who had been hurt or scarred or torn from their families. Yes, they were victorious in the traditional sense, but Edelgard had been foolish. Nobody won a war. There were only those who had lost less.

And oh, however much she hated him, Edelgard could not deny one simple truth: she mourned Dimitri's death. He was the enemy. Her bitter rival. Her brother. He was the bane of her existence, but apart of her all the same.

She put her hands over her face. She needed to be strong. For herself as much as the Empire. But it felt as though someone had torn a hole in her chest. She was breathing, but no oxygen came to her lungs. She was choking on nothing and everything at the same time.

A broken sob joined the chorus of rain pounding against her bedroom window. Broken. She was broken. She was confident, brave, beautiful for her people, but nothing for herself. A sword that had been swung too many times, broken on her brother's skull.

A shudder ran down her entire body. These scars were old, but they burned as if she had earned them only yesterday. If she was the empire, then the land was like her body, torn and scarred in ways that would heal, but never completely disappear.

She didn't want this to be the world her children would grow up in one day.

There was a soft knock at her door. She managed to choke back a sob as the door creaked open. Edelgard quickly wiped away her tears, but it was not enough to hide her fears from the world, to cover up the scars that tattered her mind as much as they did her body.

"Lady Edelgard," Hubert said from the door. The Emperor was sitting on a chair in her large quarters, hunched over as she rubbed away tracks of tears with the back of a gloved hand.

He frowned. Edelgard had not been herself lately. She never cried, never showed any sort of emotion so openly. Yet after the war, she had been different. And with every tear that fell, it felt like a dagger in Hubert's heart.

He moved towards her chair, settling on his knees so he could look into her eyes, "Edelgard,

"Love. Tell me what is bothering you,"

"It's nothing," she said, "just me being a fool,"

"My Lady, It takes a lot to make you cry. Just talk to me,"

"I was a fool," she finally said, "I thought we could solve our problem, just easily end the church with a war. But all I did… all I did was just get more people hurt. And Dimitri..." she choked back another sob.

"I understand," he said, trying his best to empathize, "But it was for the best. People would have been hurt either way, and probably more if the church had stayed in control. You did what you had to do,"

"I know," she said in a voice barely above a whisper, "But I killed Dimitri. I know he was my bitter rival, he opposed to everything we were trying to accomplish. But he was my brother. How am I better than the church if I caused so much harm and killed my own kin?"

"He was a cursed man as well," Hubert said, "He needed to die. Think of how things would have turned out, had he not been eliminated,"

"He was a person as much as you and I, Hubert. All of them were,"

The mage frowned. However much he'd tried, empathy had never come naturally to him. His job was to exterminate those who got in Lady Edelgard's way, regardless of who they were. Killing was in his job and nature, he had never stopped to think about who he was killing, or what their life may have been like. He barely bat an eye when he ended the life of his own father. It was for the good of the empire, after all.

But Edelgard… she saw more than just an obstacle. She saw that these were people with lives and families, fighting for a cause with as much spirit as she had. They were people just as much as the Emperor was, breathing, eating, living. These people, these soldiers that died for their cause were just as human as she was. And Dimitri. He was a human too. However much she had hated and opposed him, she had taken his life.

Hubert could speak the words, but he could not understand them. She was the Emperor. She was above all else. She was the most influential woman in Fódlan. But she put herself on the same level as peasants, regarded them all as equals. Yes, they may be human, but they were not nearly as important as her.

The mage shuddered as another sob broke free from Edelgard's throat. He hated it when she made that sound. He hated it when she was sad. He took a deep breath, raising his hands to brush away the tears in the corner of her eyes with gloved thumbs.

"I know," he murmured, "I know it's hard, but we had to do it. For the church to be suppressed, for us to still be alive. Besides, there is nothing we can do about it now, and crying helps nothing,"

Edelgard nodded, leaning her head on his shoulder. She knew he didn't understand. He was raised to kill, raised to care about her life alone. She dreamed that someday her beloved fiancé would understand the value of all life, and be able to be a caring father she saw deep within.

Hubert shifted her into his arms, carrying her as if she were a child to their bed. He put her down gently, pressing a kiss on her forehead before joining her on the bed. However much he wasn't fond of physical affection, he loved Lady Edelgard, and he would do anything to see her happy again. It was more than just the sense of duty he was taught as a young child now. It was a sense of devotion, an emotional bond that could not be severed. Love, perhaps. That was why he had accepted her marriage proposal, so he would always be by her side and not only bound by duties.

Hubert pulled the emperor into a gentle hug, stroking her silky white hair, which for once hung loose. He didn't understand where this emotion was coming from, her strong value for life. Before, death had barely phased her. Now it was her world. The thought that pained her the most. Se nestled his chin on her head, pulling her closer to his body.

Edelgard shifted, wrapping her arms around his waist, "I'm sorry," she whispered, "I know you don't like seeing me like this,"

"Nothing to apologize for. I know you've been having a hard time. I could never understand, but I will always do my best for you,"

An ever so subtle smile crossed her face, "I'm glad that I have someone as caring as you with me,"

A quick huff of a chuckle left Hubert. Him? Caring? Well, he did care for Edelgard. Much more than he did all those years ago. Maybe he had changed more than he thought.

"I'm just so afraid that your life could be thrown aside like all those soldiers. I know it is your duty to protect me, and you will never abandon that job. But I'm scared you'll get yourself hurt. You're the person I value most in the world, and I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I knew it was my goals and desperation that had gotten you hurt,"

"I love you too, more than anything else, and you crying hurts me. I wouldn't be able to live with myself either if I was the reason you were upset. My job is to protect you, but if doing that includes keeping myself safe, then so be it," He comforted, kissing the top of her head.

After a long few minutes of silence, Edelgard let out a shuddering sigh, "I also just wish… That this wasn't a world where we have to kill for our values. That it could be peaceful and we could work things out without conflict."

"That is always the ultimate goal," Hubert responded, "But sometimes it is just not possible. Violence is just what has to happen sometimes,"

The Emperor pressed her head against the Mage's chest. She had become weak. Scared, afraid of what she had done. But maybe, maybe that's what this was supposed to feel like, a prelude to the protective instincts she would feel for her unborn child.

"I never wanted our child to be born into a world as scarred and dangerous as this one,"

Hubert nodded, "But it's our world, so we'll just have to make it as safe as we can,"

Wait.

What had she just said?

He pushed Edelgard back so he could look her in the eyes, "'Our child?' Did I hear you right?"

She reached for one of his hands, placing it over her stomach, which was ever so slightly swollen.

"Oh, Edelgard," he whispered, pressing his forehead against hers, "I should have known,"

"Everything makes sense now, doesn't it? Why I've been thinking so much about the value of life,"

He nodded, still intently focused on where his palm met her belly. Life. There was life, right under his hand. Life that was so delicate, so fragile one wrong move could end its existence. A light that could be so easily doused. The Empire's light. Edelgard's light. Their light.

But despite how weak and small it was, he never wanted it to leave, never wanted it to die out. It was the most valuable thing in his world. His baby, yet to be born and yet to live and thrive and experience everything the world had to offer. But she would someday. He had to protect that opportunity. He had to protect his child's future.

"I promise. I will make this world safe. I will keep myself safe, for both of you. I love you, and I will protect our child with all that I am,"

Edelgard smiled, pressing a gentle kiss against his forehead, and then his lips, "I'm glad to hear it. But know this; I will always be by your side. Never think you have to do this alone,"

Hubert contemplated those words. It was his job to protect Edelgard, to do the dirty work for her. But she wanted this. She wanted to be treated as an equal, to personally make an effort for the greater good. He reciprocated her kiss, relishing in the feeling of her soft lips against his before speaking again, "Of course, my love,"

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yespoetry · 5 years ago

Text

A Selection of Sergei Yesenin Poems Translated by Anton Yakovlev

Translator’s Note: This selection contains a range of poems spanning his full literary career, from 1910 when he was 15 years old, to the last year of his life (1925).

As you will see, many of the poems are untitled, not unusually for Russian poems, and marked with standard three asterisks (and identified by first line in tables of contents, conversation or scholarship). I've included the years of composition under each poem since that might help add some historic context (which of course includes World War I and the Bolshevik Revolution of 1917).

* * *

High water has licked

The silt with smoke.

The moon has dropped

Its yellow reins.

Paddling a punt,

I bump into banks.

Red haystacks by the fence rails

Look like churches.

With mournful cawing

In the silence of marshes

The black grouse

Is calling for vespers.

In blue gloom the grove

Shrouds the destitution…

Secretly I will pray

For your future.

<1910>

* * *

Is it my fault that I’m a poet

Of heavy suffering and bitter fate?

After all, it wasn’t my choice—

It’s just the way I came into the world.

Is it my fault that I don’t cherish life,

That I love and simultaneously hate everyone,

And know things about myself I don’t yet see—

That is my gift from the muse.

I know there is no happiness in life,

Life is lunacy, the dream of a sick soul,

And I know my gloomy tunes bore everyone,

But it’s not my fault—that’s the kind of poet I am.

<1911—1912>

The Birch

The white birch

Under my window

Wrapped herself in snow

As though in silver.

Like snow borders

On fluffy branches,

White fringes of tassels

H ave blossomed.

And the birch stands

In listless silence,

And the snowflakes burn

In the golden fire.

And the dawn, lazily

Walking around,

Sprinkles t he branches

With new silver.

<1913>

* * *

Out came the Lord to test humanity’s love,

Walked out into a field in the guise of a beggar.

An old man sitting on a stump in an oak grove

Was chewing a dry crumpet with his toothless mouth.

The old man saw the beggar walking

Down the path with an iron cane

And thought, “What a poor, sick fellow—

I bet it’s hunger that’s making him teeter.”

The Lord walked up to him, hiding his sorrow and pain,

Thinking he couldn’t awaken anyone’s heart...

And the old man extended his hand,

“Here, chew on this... you’ll feel a little stronger.”

<1914>

* * *

In the land of yellow nettle

And dried-out wattle

Village huts, like orphans,

Cling to willows.

In the fields, behind the ravine’s blue thicket,

Among green lakes,

The sand road stretches up to

The Siberian Mountains.

Lost somewhere in Mordva and Chuda,

Russia knows no fear,

And the people, the people in shackles

Walk down that road.

All of them are murderers or thieves,

As ordained by fate.

I’ve fallen in love with their sad eyes

And their hollow cheeks.

There is so much evil and joy in killers.

Their hearts are simple.

But their blue mouths grin

On their blackened faces.

In secret, I cherish one dream:

That I’m pure of heart.

But I too will knife someone to death

One whistling autumn.

And on a windy route,

Perhaps on this very same sand,

They will lead me, rope on my neck,

To fall in love with anguish.

And when I smile, in passing,

Stretching my chest,

The bad weather will lick the road of my life

With its tongue.

<1915>

* * *

I’m tired of living in my native land,

Yearning for the vast fields of buckwheat.

I’ll leave my shack

To be a vagrant and a thief.

I’ll walk the white curls of the day

To look for some wretched lodging.

And, seeing me, my best friend

Will sharpen his boot knife.

The yellow road is entwined

With the spring and the meadow sun,

And the one whose name I cherish

Will chase me from her threshold.

Again I will come back to the house of my birth,

Console myself with someone else’s joy,

And, some green evening, hang myself

On my sleeve under the window.

The grizzled willows by the wicker fence

Will drop their heads a bit more tenderly.

They will bury me, unwashed,

To the sound of barking dogs.

And the moon will swim on and on,

Dropping its oars into lakes...

And Russia will go on living,

Dancing and weeping by the fence.

<1916>

* * *

Swimming in the blue dust,

The moon butts a cloud with its horn.

This night, no one will guess

Why the herons screamed.

This night, she ran through the reeds

To the green backwater.

Her white hand swept her tousled hair

Over her tunic.

She ran up, glanced at the quick spring

And sat down on the stump in pain.

In her eyes, the daisies wilted

The way a swamp light goes out.

At dawn, through the spiraling fog,

She swam away and vanished in the distance...

And the moon, swimming in the blue dust,

Nodded to her from behind the hill.

<1916> * * *

Your pensive sigh is calling me

To warm light, to my native threshold

Where grandmother and grandfather sit on the porch

Awaiting their spirited sunflower-aged grandson.

Their grandson is slim and white as a birch,

With honey hair and velvet hands.

Except, o my friend, I see from his blue eyes—

They’re only dreaming of his worldly life.

The bright Virgin in the icon corner

Beams joy into their darkness.

With a quiet smile on her thin lips

She holds their grandson in her arms.

<1917> * * *

Here it is, silly happiness

With white windows that look into the garden.

The sunset quietly swims

In the pond like a red swan.

Hello, golden quiet

With your shadow of a birch in the water.

A flock of crows on the roof

Holds vespers for a star.

Somewhere past the garden, timidly,

Out where the guelder-rose blooms,

A tender girl in white

Sings a tender song.

In a bluish fog, the night cool

Sweeps from the field.

Silly, sweet happiness.

Fresh blush of cheeks.

<1918>

* * *

Country, o my country!

Autumnal rainy tin.

The shivering streetlight reflects

Its lipless head in a black puddle.

No, it’s best not to look,

Or else I’ll see something worse.

I’ll just keep squinting my eyes

At all this rusted haze.

It’s warmer this way and less painful.

Look: between the skeletons of houses

A bell tower, like a miller, carries

The copper bagfuls of bells.

If you’re hungry, you will be nourished.

If you’re miserable, you’ll find joy.

Just don’t look at me too openly,

My unknown earthly brother.

As I thought, so I did. But alas!

It’s the same every time!

Looks like my body is too used to

Feeling this shivering cold.

Well, so what! There are many others,

I’m not the only one alive in the world!

As for the street light, one moment it blinks,

The next moment it laughs with its lipless head.

Only my heart, under shabby clothes,

Whispers to me, who has visited solid ground:

“My friend, my friend, the eyes that have seen

Can only be shut by death.”

<1921>

* * *

Don’t torment me with your icy demeanor

And don’t ask me how old I am.

I’ve got a severe falling sickness;

My soul is a yellow skeleton.

There was a time when, hailing from outskirts,

In a smoke of my boyish dreams,

I imagined riches and fame,

And being loved by all.

Yes! I’m rich, I’m rich beyond words.

I had a top hat; now I don’t.

All I’ve got left is one shirtfront

And a worn-out pair of fashionable shoes.

And my fame is no worse:

From Moscow to Paris

My name inspires horror

Like a loud swearword painted on a fence.

As to love—isn’t it funny?

You kiss me, but lips feel like tin.

I know, my feeling is overripe

And yours won’t be able to bloom.

Oh well, I’m too young to brood,

And if I’m sad—what of it?

Fresh grass that covers the hills

Rustles with more gold than your braids.

I’d love to go back to that place

Where, listening to rustling golden grass,

I could sink forever into oblivion

In the smoke of my boyish dreams.

But this time I’d dream of something new,

Something earth or grass can’t understand,

Something no heart can express in words

And no human being could name.

<1923>

* * *

A blue May. An eventide warmth.

The ring at the gate makes no sound.

Sticky smell wafts from the sagebrush.

The cherry tree sleeps in a white gown.

Through the wooden wings of the window,

The whimsical moon is weaving

The lace patterns of the fine curtains

And the window frames onto the floor.

Our living room might be small,

But it’s clean. I’m here at my leisure...

This night I’m enjoying my life

Like a pleasant thought of a friend.

The garden blazes like a frothy fire,

And the moon, straining all its powers,

Would like everyone to tremble

From the piercing word “darling.”

In this blossoming, in this smoothness,

Hearing the merry harmonica of May,

I’m the only one who wishes for nothing,

Who accepts everything as is.

I accept it—come and appear,

Everything that brings pain and relief...

Peace be with you, life that has rumbled by.

Peace be with you, light-blue chill.

<1925>

Born in Moscow, Russia, Anton Yakovlev studied filmmaking and poetry at Harvard University. He is the author of poetry chapbooks The Ghost of Grant Wood (Finishing Line Press, 2015) and Neptune Court (The Operating System, 2015). His poems have appeared in The New Yorker, The Hopkins Review, Prelude, Measure, The Best of The Raintown Review, The Stockholm Review of Literature, and elsewhere. His book of translations of poetry by Sergei Esenin is forthcoming from Sensitive Skin Books in 2017. He has also directed several short films.

One of the most important Russian poets of all time, Sergei Yesenin (1895-1925) was a founding member of the short-lived but influential Imaginist movement, which stood in contrast to Futurism and was related to Imagism in English. Originally from the village of Konstantinovo, Ryazan Province, Yesenin spent most of his adult life in Petrograd (later Leningrad, now St. Petersburg), but most of his poetry continued to focus on nature and traditional rural life. In 1922 he married the American dancer Isadora Duncan, but their marriage was short-lived. Though he initially supported the Bolshevik regime, the poet became disenchanted with it, recognizing the encroaching and destructive effects of Soviet industrialization on the peasant population. According to the official account, on the night of December 27, 1925, he hanged himself after writing his final poem in his own blood, though many experts, relatives, and friends of the poet have disputed the official narrative.

#Anton Yakovlev #poetry #special feature #Sergei Yesenin

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redorblue · 6 years ago

Text

Tiamat’s Wrath, by James S.A. Corey

It’s been a while since I finished, and I’m still A MESS (and, apparently, not the only one). So this is not going to be coherent in any way, just me rambling about what stood out to me in those 541 pages of pure stress.

I’m tagging it as spoilery, but still: CAREFUL, SPOILERS! (also, long)

Alright. No way around that: the first sentence messed me up badly. I’m pretty sure that’s never happened to me, having a character die on me in the very first sentence of a book (not even the first chapter! The prologue, ffs!). And technically not even that, she’s been dead for a while, I just learned about it now. The thing is, I expected something like this to happen at some point, I was already dead scared for her in Persepolis Rising once it had sunk in that we’d just done a time jump of several decades, but I thought we’d get her death on screen, if only because she’s been such an influential character over the last seven books. It feels odd to just have her gone, without drama and fanfare. My guess is that, besides being really old at this point, she also didn’t have much energy left because of her failure to protect Sol system against the Laconians and the feeling of powerlessness and inevitability that came with Laconian rule. With the political center of the galaxy moving to Laconia, she probably lost most of her influence, and I think that takes a heavy toll on a born politician and decades-long power broker such as Chrisjen Avasarala. So it makes sense that she’d just... die (and it certainly sets the tone for the rest of this bloodbath of a novel).

Once I got over the initial shock, I also came to appreciate the way her death (or rather, her being dead) is written. I liked that we got a tiny peek into her relationship with her granddaughter that doesn’t sentimentalize her, but gives an interesting inside view into her worldview. The quote on her tomb broke my heart:

“If life transcends death, then I will seek for you there. If not, then there too.”

I loved every single word of the tiny snippets of information we got about her relationship with Arjun back in book 5 (or 6?), when it became ever clearer that he’d just disappeared, never to be found again, like millions of others on Earth. So to see that she still misses him, and that the fact that she never even found his body still haunts her... It breaks my heart, but it’s also really sweet. It says a lot about her personality (determination was her second name) and it shows this soft side of her that nobody around her ever got to see. But even though she mostly came of as mean and ruthless to other people, it’s nice to see that she had a positive impact on their lives (and that it’s acknowledged!). It so often happens that once a character is dead, they’re never mentioned again, and certainly never mourned. I appreciate it a lot that this didn’t happen here, that it’s pointed out several times how even in death she’s helping the other characters deal with their situation, especially in the few Holden POV chapters. I’m really grateful that her memory is being honored, especially since it’s honored by characters imagining her bossing them around, which I’m pretty sure she would have liked.

Second, I like the view on humanity that’s presented here, in the series in general but especially explicitly in this book. I’d argue that it’s actually quite positive, despite all the power-hungry,conscience-proof narcissists like Duarte and Inaros and Errinwright and Mao and Cortázar and... Yes, they exist and they naturally have a lot of tools to screw things up, which is only realistic, but they’re presented as outliers. The rest of humanity is messy, and unruly, and sometimes has an impressive ability to ignore paradoxes, but it is also capable of empathy and mercy, and most people can find the strength to stand up for what’s right when it matters. I think the best summary of this philosophy is found in a monologue from Emma:

“Easy to make rules. [...] Easy to make systems with a perfect logic and rigor. All you need to do is leave out the mercy, yeah? Then when you put people into it and they get chewed to nothing, it’s the person’s fault. Not the rules. Everything we do that’s worth shit, we’ve done with people. Flawed, stupid, lying, rules-breaking people. Laconians making the same mistake as ever. Our rules are good, and they’d work perfectly if it were only a different species. [...] I’ll die for that. [...] I’ll die so that people can be fuckups and still find mercy.”

What she’s saying is that our general aversion to rules gets us into a lot of trouble, but it also gives us flexibility, and therefore the capacity for mercy even if we’re perfectly certain that a person screwed up. She’s also saying that it’s important to stand up for that, to not just care about one’s own tiny bubble and put every terrible thing that happens down to “guess they had it coming”. Because it’s not as easy as that.

I also love this quote because it’s one of the strongest statements of what’s actually wrong with Laconia. Several characters, in this book and the last, point out that it’s really hard sometimes to not loose track of why Laconia’s version of authoritarian rule is actually terrible, and I gotta admit that I agree. Sometimes, on paper, the whole organising principle just seems so... sensible. There aren’t any graphic descriptions of bloody massacres like when Eros got infected with the protomolecule or when Inaros dropped the asteroids on Earth. Even the actions that are clearly atrocious, like Trejo destroying Pallas or the protomolecule “production” in the pens, are described in a way that feels very surgical, almost hygienic, so that you loose sight of what’s actually happening. I’m pretty sure that that’s deliberate, that the authors want their audience to slip into this mindset of “are they really that bad?” every now and then in order to make the audience see that authoritarian regimes aren’t only bad when they have obvious bloodstains on their hands. They’re actually bad all the time, and even more dangerous when they’re not that obvious. When the arbitrariness that most of us associate with dictators is replaced by a set of rules so strict that you gotta slip up some time, and once you do there’s no fixing your mistake. Plus, the absolute confidence (read: hubris) in their own decisions that often comes with this specific kind of dictator makes them immune to any kind of outside opinion, which, as this book clearly demonstrates, leads to some astonishingly short-sighted decisions and a whole lot of very dangerous complications. So all in all, I think this book does a pretty good job at exposing the nature of authoritarian regimes, from the system of distributed (read: lack of) responsibility that comes with a strict chain of command and their complete lack of accountability or checking for logical errors, to the treacherous allure that some of them might have.

Third, I love the way the romantic relationships are written. I’m usually not a big fan of romance because I think in most cases the romance is more a necessity that comes with the medium than an actual gain for the plot, but I love these. Probably because at this point, all the romantic relationships have been an established fact in the couple’s lives for a few decades now, and they give me this feeling of being... settled, in all the best ways. It can be exciting to watch a new relationship being formed, and I love slow burns to death, but once the new couple gets together my excitement normally fades away pretty quickly. Apparently there’s only a limited number of ways to introduce conflict in such a situation (and no, it can’t come from the outside and the rest of the plot for... reasons), and usually the new couple is way too busy with sudden attacks of irrational jealousy, a dark secret in the past, the do-they-really-love-me-agony etc. for me to enjoy this relationship that I’ve been rooting for for so long. Especially since it’s usually a problem that the couple could solve by having a long and honest conversation, but for REASONS that’s not an option and... I digress. So I like established relationships because they generally don’t come with that particular brand of drama, which means that there’s space to actually focus on the couple itself or on (gasp) the plot. This whole series does that pretty well - I already mentioned that I adore Chrisjen and Arjun as a couple - and in this book there is a lot of it. Naomi and Holden, obviously, and Elvi and Fayez, and for me also Drummer and Saba, although he doesn’t show up on stage at all and she does so only briefly, so in their case it’s more of an aftereffect of Persepolis Rising that’s exacerbated by him dying.

I don’t know how to put this into words exactly, but I love that these relationships are so stable (and by that I don’t mean boring). The fact that it has been an important part of the characters’ lives for so long doesn’t mean that they don’t express their love anymore, that they don’t think about each other with affection, that they don’t worry about the other or miss them. There’s lots and lots of fluff, if you want to put it that way. But most of all, they provide what a committed relationship is actually supposed to provide: an anchor, a sense of belonging, stability, mutual understanding, acceptance... without taking away the characters’ agency, identity or personal freedom. It’s most visible in Elvi and Fayez, where Elvi is the one with the important job, the long hours and high security clearance, and Fayez just supports her through all of the awfulness. He doesn’t pry, he doesn’t pick a fight with her for never being home, and he doesn’t reproach her for not eloping with him in the end because he can see that this is important for her. And while we don’t get his POV, I’m pretty sure that he’s not just swallowing his anger or feeling unfulfilled in his clearly supporting role - he just has his priorities straight, and No. 1 on that list is Elvi. Which is what a healthy relationship should look like.

And I think the same goes for Naomi and Holden. As painful as it was to watch her mourn him over almost one and a half books, I think it might be good for their relationship. He’s always been the one in the spotlight, not because he wanted it so badly but because he’s naturally good at it, and she was the one in the shadows (of her own volition, I need to add). I think that the events of this book, with her rising to the very top of the resistance movement and putting her logistical brilliance to work, will add a whole new layer to their dynamic. She’s now finally in a position where she might be able to prevent at least some of these situations that trigger his instinct of running head first into danger for the good of others. I don’t think she’d try to pull rank on him, but she has a bit more control over circumstances now so that she’d at least be able to do the whole rushing into danger thing together, and it puts them on more equal footing, hierarchically speaking. That’s never been an issue in their relationship per se, but it has been a factor in the way they interact with others both as a couple and as individuals. He often deferred or at least conferred with her, but Holden was the one other people addressed first, and that’s going to be different in the next book.

In the same vein, this book also made my shipper heart both glad and utterly devastated at the same time because there’s so much Alex-Bobbie-content. I’m not sure if you can actually call it shipping - I never wanted them to be an item romantically, but I think they’re one of the best examples of a queerplatonic relationship that’s out there. It’s canon that they never slept together, probably never even kissed, and it’s still made abundantly clear that they’re each other’s person. Alex stating that he intents to grow old with Bobbie (I think that was book 7? I’m not crying you’re crying); Bobbie worrying all the time about Alex’ safety and that he feels like he’s missing out on things like being with his son because he’s out fighting Laconia with her; the fact that he’s the only one who can get to her when she would have punched anybody else - I don’t know, they do more for me than any of the romantic couples, and I already said how much I love those. Bobbie and Alex share all of the positive traits that the romantic relationships have, but their bond is presented in a much less conventional format. It says that relationships not based on romance and/or sex can be just as lasting, committed and loving as romantic relationships, and I need to hear that more often.

Which, of course, made it all the more devastating when Bobbie died. It made sense for the narrative - with Clarissa dying at the end of Persepolis Rising, and Bobbie now, we’re down to the original Roci crew, and it solves the captaincy confusion that was part of the problem in Persepolis Rising. And I guess it also made sense for her character in that it’s a fitting death for her - it shows off all of her best personality traits from her loyalty to her crew and her convictions to her military genius, and it’s just generally badass. It still makes me very sad, though, because it’s the end of this beautiful bond that my ace ass needed, and watching Alex grieve is heartbreaking. I love Alex to pieces, he has such a caring soul, and those scenes after the battle against the Tempest where he’s working himself half to death over his grief and guilt while knowing perfectly well that he’d have killed the entire crew by trying to save her - those were absolutely awful. But as much as my heart bleeds for him, Bobbie dying also brought me one of my favourite moments for him as a character and for Naomi and Alex as a family, namely when he returns to the Roci and talks to Naomi about what it’s like to have lost Bobbie. It goes like this:

“[Naomi] ‘I am so sorry about Bobbie. I cried for a whole day.’ Alex looked down and away. His smile shifted invisibly into a mask of itself. ‘I still do sometimes. It’ll take me by surprise and it’s like it’s happening again, for the first time,’ he said. ‘Thinking about Jim does that to me.’

This direct comparison between Naomi losing her lover and Alex losing Bobbie is, to me, the ultimate confirmation that their relationship was just as loving and committed as the main romance of the series. Plus, Alex freely admits that he cries a lot, which is, of course, a normal reaction, but also such a good example of a healthy kind of masculinity that he shares with Fayez, for example. Their partners taking point is not presented as a sign of them being incompetent, unimportant or “emasculated” because it doesn’t take away from their personality in any way. It just shows that they have different, equally admirable strengths that form part of their personality - not their gender identity.

#the expanse #tiamats wrath #tiamats wrath spoilers #naomi nagata #alex kamal #james holden #chrisjen avasarala #elvi okoye #books #2019

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whippedfouettelatte · 6 years ago

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The Beautiful Revolution: Ballet’s Importance in the 21st Century.

For a course at school I was given the choice to write a research paper on any topic of my choice. So i wrote about something near and dear to my heart-- Ballet. This took quite a bit of time and research and I hope you fellow balletomanes will like it! Enjoy!

Smoke fills the scene, a large golden moon hangs over the placid navy lake. From out of the trees, dozens of white swans gently land on the water, sending soft ripples out across the dark. As their white feathers illuminate the night, they turn into beautiful yet haunting maidens glowing like ghosts in the moonlight. One of the swan maidens is adorned with a large silver crown. She is Odette, the Swan Queen. Mourning the loss of her humanity, as she has been turned into a swan by the evil sorcerer Von Rothbart. She dances across the lake, accompanied by her swan maidens. When out from the bushes a man wielding a crossbow seeks to hunt the swans he saw earlier, only to find the maidens. The hunter, Prince Siegfried, immediately falls in love with the Beautiful Odette, swearing to marry her and break her curse.

That vignette is easily recognizable as the story of Swan Lake. This ballet was first premiered at the famous Bolshoi Ballet in Russia on March 4, 1877- nearly 150 years ago. The Bolshoi commissioned this piece from the composer Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky. Like many ballets, its initial run was a critical failure. The Critics criticized the music for being too complex and nearly undanceable. This shattered Tchaikovsky, who was extremely passionate about the project; finishing the entire score in one year. Sadly, the ballet would not be revived until 1895; two years after his death.

In modern times, this ballet is arguably one of the most quintessentials ballet. Most people can easily imagine the dancers decorated in white tutus, leaping and bounding across the stage. If one is to go to the ballet in the twenty first century it is probably in order to see Swan Lake in the summer, The Nutcracker in December, or Sleeping Beauty in the spring. Yet, today ballet is seen as an almost archaic art form, only seen or cared about by the elderly season tickets holders or attended as a mandatory Christmas event. This line of thought is damagingly inaccurate. Ballet has historically been more than just an entertaining art form: it has been a medium of protest and political commentary since its birth in the tumultuous court of the Sun King in France during the fifteenth century.

While some find it hard to believe that ballet in its prime was an important piece of the media that almost every active member of society was privy to or invested in. Today, ballet can seem to be an unimportant mode of protest to the ever changing political landscape of modern media. Swan Lake, while still restaged to this day and adapted into hundreds of unique and different storylines in thousands of companies across the world, seems like a story that has been sapped of any political importance-- as many think 150 years of political change and growth can negate the power of a message. This could not be further from the truth. Ballet is politically relevant all throughout history and into the twenty first century.

Many ballets have universal messages that run through the heart of the story; love, forgiveness, and betrayal. Additionally, most have political ideas that reflect the society and the politics of the time. In classical ballets, their political messages are easy to discern. When ballet is looked at through the lense of historical politics and society, it is easy to see what influenced each of the ballet’s elements. Ballet culture has been molded to fit the political landscape of the time. Most new ballets that have been created follow this idea of being a mirror to society, which can be easily seen and tracked through different retellings and restagings of influential or famous classic ballets. When the ballets are changed or modernized, they are always shaped to fit the political landscape of the time. Ballet is one of the few pieces of media that can be molded and adapted. Ballets from one hundred fifty years ago are still being staged. It is a timeless art form that is important and entertaining in every time frame. From its invention all the way to the twenty first century it challenges society and it should not be ignored or pushed to the wayside.

One of the first true classic ballets called Giselle is an influential political product of the nineteenth century. On the 28th of June 1841, it premiered at the Theatre de l'Academie Royale du Musique. This ballet tells the story of a young peasant woman named Giselle. She lives in an idyllic village in the German countryside. She is naive and full of life, she loves to dance though it is dangerous for her weak heart. Giselle falls in love with Albrecht, who she thinks is another peasant, when in reality he is a prince in disguise. Albrecht’s true identity is found out by a game master, Hilarion, who despises Albrecht because he too is in love with Giselle. Later, a group of nobles show up, along with Lady Bathilde-- Albrecht’s fiance-- who upon seeing him confronts him, asking him why he has been away. After seeing Albrecht kiss his fiancee, Giselle goes mad and dances around erratically when suddenly her heart gives out. She dies instantly.

In act two, Hilarion lays flowers on Giselle’s grave in the forest. He is suddenly attacked by Myrtha, Queen of the Willis. Willis are the spirits of women who were scorned or betrayed by men. When they find men, they enchant them and force them to dance to death. Albrecht is about to become a victim of this fate, but Giselle, a new spirit, forgives him for his betrayal and saves his life. The sun rises over the horizon and the spirits fade away. Albrecht is left safe and alone.

Giselle was an instant success because of how unique the plot was. This ballet reflected some of the deepest sensitivities of the time, at this point in history the population of Paris, France was plagued by illness and poverty on a massive scale. In the 1840s, life expectancy was around only forty years old for both men and women (Life Expectancy, Mike Roser). Women died in childbirth at a significant rate. Barely anyone in France during this time could afford suitable living quarters, as the revolution had decimated the government and in turn the economy. Giselle was a heroine that reflected the face of the French people. Instead of being portrayed in a negative and shameful light, Giselle represented hope for the common masses of France by being positive and sweet despite her circumstance in life. She is the hero of her own story and her powers of forgiveness overcome her afflictions. It was a kind of encouragement to the people that despite their circumstances they can rise above their station. This was the message of the revolution, helping to advance the everyday people and provide equality.

In addition, this ballet’s setting is in an almost fairy tale like village in the middle ages in Germany. This was a beautiful escape for the Parisians, as the industrial revolution was in full swing throughout Europe, and came to the cholera ridden streets of unemployed Paris. Many artist were unhappy with the change of morals and beliefs that coincided with the multiple social revolutions and the industrial revolutions, “which these artists and philosophers attributed to the Age of Enlightenment, they yearned for what they imagined to have been a better past. Thus emerged the common use of quasi-medieval settings for Romantic ballets and the supernatural themes that allowed people to escape reality” (Hutchins, 37). Therefore they were disillusioned by the new age of logic, and wanted to harken back to an age of romance and what they considered to be emotion-driven societies.

Furthermore, the analysis deepens when you look at the connections to the government of the time. In the ballet, Duke Albrecht woos Giselle under the guise of a peasant who is just like everyone else. He walks among the other peasants pretending to be one of them when in reality he is royalty. He takes advantage of Giselle and her love for him, and all of his promises are false as he swears to love only her but lies about his true alignment with the nobility. This directly parallels King Louis-Philippe-- the King of France during the time of Giselle’s creation. In France there were two different political parties at the time: The Parti De Resistance (which was mostly populated by the common french people,) and the Parti De Movement (the aristocrats and the wealthy.) Louis-Philippe never vocally sided with a party, but his cabinet was mostly made of the Movement party. Philippe, in order “To Demonstrate his connection and devotion to the French people… called himself the ‘King of the French’ rather than the ‘King of France.’ Early in his reign, Louis-Philippe walked freely and unprotected among his people, holding an umbrella in place of a scepter” (Hutchins, 36) This garnered him the nickname ‘The Citizen King’ before he fell out of favor with the French. Both Albrecht and Louis-Philippe inserted themselves into the culture of the lower class citizens, with disastrous effects. They tried to disguise their true alignment with the nobility under the guise of being like the rest of the citizens. This comparison is no accident; Giselle took a critical look at the political landscape of the time and reflected it in a deep analysis of socio political trends during 1840s France. Making is a influential piece of political relevance.

Giselle was a reflection and analysis of its time period, and in its many updated versions it has continued that legacy. In 1984, the Dance Theatre of Harlem staged an all new production of Giselle. The DTH is a dance company made entirely of African-American dancers. Because of this, Arthur Mitchell the founder and artistic director of DTH decided to mold the ballet to a new setting to allow the dancers to feel at home in a ballet known for its ‘whiteness’. A large problem with ballet in the 1980s was its inherent white race coding, Giselle is a part of a series of classical romantic ballets; including Swan Lake, La Sylphide, and La Bayadere, known as Ballet Blanc, which literally translates to ‘White Ballet’ due to the ballets central plot having white supernatural effeminate beings. Therefore, the DTH was tasked with changing the story to something racially inclusive yet not patronizing to the dancers. As ballet was inherently racist in the 1980s, many pointe shoe makers simply “did not believe that black girls were dancing on pointe” (Caught Dancing: Hybridity, Stability, and Subversion in Dance Theatre of Harlem's Creole "Giselle", 273). Therefore, to adapt Giselle into a modern cultural identity Mitchell moved it out of the medieval german rhineland, into post-civil war Louisiana plantations. Making Giselle a free former slave, while Albrecht is an aristocratic plantation owner posing as a poor farmer. Because of this setting, the ballet has been unofficially deemed Creole Giselle.

The DTH had to strike a balance when creating Creole Giselle, they had “the desire to provet the patent falseness of claims declaring the black body as wrong for ballet and the need to maintain a race-based cultural particularity in the performances of his company” (Gaiser, 273). The ballet, while mostly staying true to the choreography of the original 1841 production, was modified slightly. As many black dancers had not had the chance to prove themselves in a classical ballet setting, this production was their chance, yet if the steps were exactly the same they would run the risk of being called ‘imitative’ or being compared to other classic stagings of Giselle. This production had to be unique to show the dance community that Giselle was a ballet for everyone, while still separating it into a sphere where African-American dancers could show their talent without reprimands. Just like in everyday society, racism was still a large part of everyday life and it was something that wasn't overcome in the 1980s, but various people and movements were starting to repair bonds.

Creole Giselle was one of the first steps in the ballet world to show black dancers were as capable as white ones. Creole Giselle looked at its political landscape and reflected the ideas of respecting the old but welcoming the new into everyday society. In a study titled New Patterns of Racism: the different worlds of 1984 and 1964 we find that when comparing 1984 to 1964 “much has happened since 1964 in American black-white relations, but the changes have been uneven across and within institutions. In each area reviewed- politics, education, housing, occupation, family structure, income, health, and business- there have been conflicting trends. In general, gains are impressive when compared with earlier black conditions; however, they are less than impressive when compared with current white conditions.” Just like society, Creole Giselle looks on the bright side of improving race relations while still not breaking the boundaries it is stuffed into. Having to change things in order to help people find the story and choreography more palatable to their expectations. This version of Giselle carries on the legacy of reflecting the face of modern society.

The updated setting of Creole Giselle isn't where the reflection of society stops. Recently, in 2016 the English National Ballet commissioned Akram Khan to stage a new version of Giselle. This version of Giselle is different than any before. In this retelling, “they have set the ballet among a community of migrant workers, who have been sacked from their jobs at a garment factory and are having to eke out a precarious existence in an impromptu camp. The courtly world of Albrecht is replaced by a privileged group of landlords and factory owners, who live apart from their workers behind a high wall” (Akram Khan's refugee Giselle: 'A real woman in a catastrophic situation' by Judith Mackrell). Khan, who began his work on this new adaptation with the Director of the ENB, Tamara Rojo, chose to set the ballet in a migrant worker factory because of the refugee crisis in Europe. He realized while the ballet can seem naive to modern audiences, some of the strongest themes in the ballet are in the simplicity. The duality between love and betrayal, or reality and the supernatural. Khan kept those elements central to the ballet, while also focusing his attention on Hilarion. While in the original he was just a simple game master who was in love with Giselle but forced her to see the lies Albrecht told, in Khan’s Giselle he has “expanded Hilarion’s role in the ballet into a fixer, a go-between who works with both migrants and capitalist”(Mackrell). This version of Giselle is much grittier and grounded, like the Indian dance style Kathak, which Khan was taught. The second act replaces beautiful ghostly woman in long white dresses dancing across a forest, to women covered in dirt and grime with long ragged hair and clothes in an abandoned factory.

This ballet, while aesthetically different from the original in many different ways, still is recognizable as the classic tale of Giselle. Khan’s Giselle is a perfect commentary on Europe's refugee crisis, showing the everyday people as humans and developed people on the stage through the titular character Giselle. Just like in the 1841 version, yet today people are an eclectic mix of cultures, heritages, and styles just like the Creative team. Khan being born in Britain, yet raised to be in tune with his Bangladeshi heritage. Rojo, from Canada, born to immigrants from Spain. Giselle has changed drastically throughout the years, but in every adaptation it can be used as a critical analysis on the socio political landscape of the time.

Ballet still has a long way to go before it becomes as much of a cultural staple as it was in the 1800s. Yet it increases in popularity everyday, as many dancers have become activists or advocates for equality, feminism, LGBTQ acceptance, and much more. Ballet is moving back into the cultural limelight as its relevance in the political scene is recognized more and more. Many dancers have become household names, like Misty Copeland or Mikhail Baryshnikov. Ballets on stage tackle different social and cultural issues it is hard to ignore the fact that ballet is politically relevant all throughout history and into the 21st century.

#ballet #ballet politics #ballet relevance #ballet essay

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reallifesultanas · 4 years ago

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Portrait of Şehzade Mehmed/Mehmed herceg portréja

There is relatively little to know about Prince Mehmed, although legend says that he was the favorite child of Hürrem and Suleiman I. The prince’s education, intelligence and capabality are also legendary, as is the mosque built for him, the Şehzade Mosque, one of the most fantastic mosques in Istanbul, radiating the greatest serenity and perfection. Fortunately, Prince Mehmed was portrayed fairly well in the series, but there were still plenty of lies about him: for example, his relationship with his older brother, the circumstances of his death...

Circumstances of his birth

Mehmed was born in 1521, presumably around September, as the son of Sultan Suleiman and his concubine, Hürrem. At the time of his birth, his father was on a campaign in Rhodes, so probably his grandmother, Ayşe Hafsa Valide Sultan named the newcomer. As with every child’s birth, there were celebrations and feasts in the harem and even throughout the city. Mehmed was the first prince to born during the reign of Sultan Suleiman, and even the first prince to be born in the capital for the last almost 50 years. For this reason, his birth certainly caused great joy not only for the family but also for the people of Istanbul, as he indicated that their ruler was quite active not only on the battlefield but also in bed. The joy surrounding Mehmed's birth was further enhanced by the fact that Suleiman, who was on a campaign, reaped brilliant victories, the fame of which certainly reached the capital by then.

However, Mehmed had little chance of ever becoming sultan, for by this time he already had three older brothers. But soon, a tragic event overshadowed the joy that arose after his birth. In October, the plague broke into the palace and killed Suleiman’s two older sons, Mahmud and Murad. With that, Mehmed's chances increased. Suleiman soon, in violation of all traditions, made Mehmed's mother, Hürrem his favorite concubine and only sexual partner, thus the little prince was followed in quick succession by his siblings. And with Hürrem's influence, Mehmed's future also shone brighter. His only rival was his older half-brother, Prince Mustafa.

Early years and education

He certainly spent his early years with his mother, his teacher, within the walls of the Old Palace, but his father also frequently visited the family. Mehmed received parts of his education together with his older half-brother, Mustafa. He shared the most important event of their childhood with Mustafa also. In 1530, Suleiman staged a huge ceremony for Mustafa, Mehmed and his younger brother, Selim for their circumcision. The celebration lasted for days, with banquets, entertainment shows and a plethora of important, influential guests. A similar circumcision ceremony has never been held in the capital. During the ceremony, the princes also attended at the meatings with their father. In doing so, Suleiman actually introduced them to the public and to the statesmen as his heirs.

Mehmed was in the perfect age to be circumcised, so in his case, essentially after this event, his education became much more serious. This is evidenced by a letter, presumably from 1532, sent by Mehmed to father in his absence. In it, he reports about the conditions prevailing in the city, indicating precisely that the little prince had tracked every little detail from the accounts and reports. He mentioned that minor fires had struck twelve times since Suleiman's departure, but it was always managed to stop the spread in time. In another letter, he reports to his father with surprising accuracy and precision, that the Admiral, Hayreddin Barbarossa was in a sea battle.

In addition, the prince's letter also serves as evidence that the princes (at least Mehmed certainly) could make suggestions and could ask their father for requests, also on political issues. Namely, in his letter, Mehmed thanked his father a thousand times for accepting his proposal and elevating one of his men, Pilak Mustafa Pasha to a higher position. Mehmed liked Pilak Mustafa very much, so he wanted the pasha to rise up. His mother probably also supported his decision because she was the one who selected a girl from the harem to be Pilak Mustafa Pasha’s future wife.

In addition to politics, history, and other important topics, Mehmed also studied arts and languages. We know that he spoke Ottoman Turkish, Persian, Arabic, and some even say he learned Latin. It is clear, that his education was all-encompassing, and that Suleiman, as a true father, supported his son in his decisions, moreover he seriously considered the suggestions of the little prince. These already, and the relative immediacy of their letters, suggest that the Sultan and Mehmed were very close to each other.

The young prince

He was given the first really important position of his life in 1534. This year was very eventful for the family, as Suleiman's mother, Hafsa Sultan, died in early spring, and Suleiman soon left for a campaign, but before that he married Mehmed's mother, Hürrem, and also make her the head of the harem. Also, as he embarked on a long Iranian campaign, he left Prince Mehmed at Topkapi Palace to take care of the empire. This certainly filled the prince, just 14 years old, with immense pride, and placed a very heavy burden on the shoulders of his mother and teachers. It is probably during this period that the whole family moved from the Old Palace to the Topkapi Palace.

The prince’s position as defender of Istanbul and the fact that he successfully completed the task entrusted to him certainly increased in him the desire to have his own princely province as soon as possible and to gain real combat experience. He did not have to wait long for the latter, because in 1537 he was able to join to his father's campaign in Corfu. However, he had to wait a few years for the province still.

Later, in 1541, together with his two brothers, Selim and Bayezid, he accompanied his father to his campaign in Buda, and after the campaign Suleiman appointed him to his first princely province, Manisa. Prince Mustafa had previously lived in Manisa, but Suleiman had transferred him to another province, where he could make better use of his experiences, long before Mehmed was appointed. Thus, the legend that Suleiman exiled Mustafa from Manisa for the sake of Mehmed is not true.

Mehmed finally arrived in Manisa on 12 November 1541. Based on traditions, his mother should accompany the prince, just as Mustafa was accompanied by his mother and as Suleiman was accompanied by Hafsa. However, because of Hürrem's exceptional position, as the mother of more princes and as the sultan's legal wife, she did not accompany Mehmed. However, that doesn’t mean he was left alone. Mehmed's governess accomponied him, and usually the governesses were even closer to the children than their mothers, so Mehmed certainly did not suffer from a lack of support. The governesses were quite highly esteemed, in the eyes of both the public and the family. We know, for example, that Mehmed’s governess received an outstanding salary for the rest of her life. For being a governess was work for a lifetime, and in the absence of the prince's mother, the governess was considered the embodiment of the princely mother, so her words and orders were sacred. Of course, because of the paramount importance of the post, it is clear that the governess could only have been a person who was extremely loyal to Hürrem.

In addition, Hürrem herself chosed carefuly the the most beautiful and loyal concubines, the best kalfas, and eunuchs for Mehmed's harem. And indeed at the first capable time, Hürrem visited Mehmed. In 1543 Hürrem was already in Manisa, but the reason for her visit was not clear. She may have "just" wanted to visit her son, others say she went to Manisa for the birth of Mehmed's first child. Mehmed's first and only child, his daughter Hümaşah, may have been born around this time. Anyhow, when Hürrem left Manisa she wanted to visit her husband, who was nearby, since he was on his way to homa, after a campaign.

The tragedy

Hürrem had almost reached Suleiman's camp in Adrianapole when she received the devastating news from Manisa: Prince Mehmed was dead. The messengers certainly reached Hürrem for the first time, as she was on her way just from Manisa to Adrianapole. Maybe when she got the knews, Hürrem wanted to return to Manisa immediately, but this was not allowed to her, as the prince had lost his life in an infectious disease. The Manisa registers wrote about the prince's death the followings: "On the day when an agha brought news of the conquest of Esztergom and Belgrade, a huge ceremony and fireworks were held in Manisa, and at the same time Prince Mehmed fell ill. He was in bed for six days, and before the seventh night, the prince died. After a brief mourning period, his teacher and the treasurer Ibrahim Çelebi immediately set out for Istanbul with the prince's body. Until his death, the prince spent a year and two days in Manisa." The exact cause of death may be evidenced by an earlier post: "In the spring of this year, the plague reappeared in the city and buried a great many families underground." Thus, it cannot be ruled out that the prince also died of the plague, but any other disease is possible, for there is no direct evidence. Either way, on 7 November 1543, Prince Mehmed died.

Legendary funeral

The princes were traditionally buried in Bursa, whether they were executed or died by natural causes. However, Mehmed's body was quickly transferred to Istanbul. It is questionable whether Sultan Suleiman ordered this or whether Mehmed's teacher acted by himself, for the sources do not match. But it seems unlikely that a teacher would dare to make such a serious decision without the Sultan’s permission.

When Mehmed's body arrived to Istanbul on November 18, people, agas, pashas and everyone were amazed but accepted. It was expected that he will be buried in his grandfather, Selim I's mosque complex as Suleiman's previously deceased children or maybe in Bayezid II's mosque complex. However, Suleiman and Hürrem had other plans.

Since the body had to be buried as soon as possible, the funeral was eventually held in Bayezid Square and the prince's body was placed in a temporary tomb. During his funeral, the Suleyman were weeping unstoppably for more than 2 hours and he did not allow the body to be buried. After that, instead of the usual 3 days, he ordered prayers for his son’s soul for 40 days and the pashas had to wear mourning clothes for 40 days instead of the usual 3. Suleiman himself wore only black for a long time. This also shows well the father’s pain. Hürrem, meanwhile, tried to alleviate her grief by taking Mehmed's little daughter and her mother to herself. But for months she also kept a close watch on Mehmed's other concubines to see if any of them were pregnant. But unfortunately, none of the concubines were pregnant. In any case, Mehmed’s little daughter, Hümaşah, comforted the grieving sultan and his wife, as she became one of their favorite grandchildren, along with Mihrimah’s daughter and Selim’s son.

However, all this was not enough for Hürrem and Suleiman, so they decided to build a mosque for their son. The ambassadors expressed their shock in their reports and the people of Istanbul were also surprised to hear the news. Especially since the mosque was planned to be built at a very prominent point in Istanbul, on the site on which Sultan Suleiman had begun doing constructions months before Mehmed’s death. This clearly suggests that the sultan planned to set up his own complex on the wonderful place, but after his son's death he changed his mind and recommended the complex to his son. It was not only a generous and unprecedented act, but also quite bold. Suleiman was no longer young, it was not at all sure that he would be able to build another complex for himself in his life, so he risked to never have his own construction project in the capital. We have to admit, this is no small risk from a sultan. Fate eventually gave Suleiman enough time to build his own huge complex almost next to the mosque of Prince Mehmed.

The construction of the Mehmed's Mosque complex took about five years, during which time both Suleiman and Hürrem visited the construction site several times and commented on the work taking place there. Their care is a good indication that perhaps the rumor that Mehmed was Suleiman's dearest son and that he would have been the most worthy for the throne may be true. And according to this, the death of the prince was a tragedy not only for the family but also for the whole Ottoman Empire.

Used sources: L. Peirce - The imperial harem; L. Peirce - The empress of the east; G. Yermolenko - Roxolana in European Literature, History and culture

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Mehmed hercegről viszonylag keveset beszélnek, pedig a legendák szerint ő volt Hürrem és Szulejmán kedvenc gyermeke. A herceg műveltsége, intelligenciája és rátermedtsége szintén legendás, akárcsak a számára emelt mecset, a Şehzade mecset, mely Isztambul egyik legfantasztikusabb, legnagyobb nyugalmat és tökéletességet sugárzó mecsetje. Mehmed herceget a sorozatban szerencsére meglehetősen jól ábrázolták, azonban még így is rengeteg csúsztatás volt vele kapcsolatban. Így például viszonya bátyjával, halálának körülményei...

Születésének körülményei

Mehmed 1521-ben született, vélhetőleg szeptember környékén Szulejmán szultán és ágyasa, Hürrem fiaként. Születésekor édesapja éppen Rodoszon volt hadjáraton, így vélhetőleg nagyanyja Ayşe Hafsa Valide szultána nevezte el a jövevényt. Mint minden gyermek születésekor, ekkor is ünnepségek és lakoma volt a háremben, sőt az egész városban. Mehmed volt ugyanis Szulejmán szultáni uralkodása során az első herceg, sőt az első herceg aki a fővárosban született az elmúlt majd 50 évben. Emiatt születése bizonyosan nagy örömöt váltott ki nem csak a családból, de Isztambul népéből is, hiszen jelezte, hogy uralkodójuk nem csak a harcmezőn, de az ágyban is meglehetősen aktív. Tovább növelte a Mehmed születése körüli örömöt az, hogy az éppen hadjáraton tartózkodó Szulejmán, fényes győzelmeket aratott, melyek híre minden bizonnyal elérte a fővárost is addigra.

Mehmednek azonban meglehetősen kevés esélye volt arra, hogy valaha is a birodalmi trónra ülhessen, ekkorra ugyanis már három idősebb fiútestvére volt. Hamarosan azonban tragikus esemény árnyékolta be a születése után jelentkező örömöt. Októberben a pestis betört a palota falai közé és magával ragadta Szulejmán két idősebb fiát, Mahmudot és Muradot. Ezzel Mehmed esélyei egyre csak növekedtek. Szulejmán szultán hamarosan minden hagyományt és tradíciót megszegve kedvenc ágyasává és egyetlen szexuális partnerévé tette Mehmed édesanyját Hürremet, így gyors egymásutániságban követték a kisherceget testvérei. Hürrem befolyásával pedig Mehmed jövője is egyre fényesebben tündökölt. Egyetlen vetélytársa idősebb féltestvére, Musztafa herceg volt.

Korai évei és neveltetése

Korai éveit minden bizonnyal édesanyjával, nevelőnőjével töltötte a Régi Palota falai között, azonban édesapja is gyakorta látogatta a családot. Itt már megkezdődött alapvető oktatása is, melynek egy részét bátyjával, Musztafával együtt kapta. Musztafa, gyermekkoruk legfontosabb eseményén is Mehmeddel együtt vett részt. 1530-ban Szulejmán hatalmas ceremóniát rendezett Musztafa, Mehmed és annak öccse, Szelim részére. Az ünnepség napokon át tartott, lakomákkal, szórakoztatóműsorokkal és rengeteg fontos, befolyásos vendég felsorakoztatásával. Ehhez fogható körülmetélési szertartás sosem volt még a fővárosban. Az ünnepség alatt a hercegek részt vettek a meghallgatásokon is édesapjukkal. Ezzel pedig tulajdonképpen Szulejmán bemuatta őket a nyilvánosságnak és az államférfiaknak, mint örököseit.

Mehmed épp tökéletes korban volt a körülmetéléshez, így esetében lényegében ezután az esemény után komolyodott sokat az oktatása is. Egyre részletesebbé, felnőttesebbé vált. Erre bizonyítékul szolgál egy feltehetőleg 1532-ből származó levél is, melyet Mehmed édesapjának küldött, annak távollétében. Ebben beszámol arról, hogy a városban milyen állapotok uralkodnak, pontosan jelezve, hogy a kisherceg nyomonkövetett minden apró részletet a beszámolókból. Említette, hogy Szulejmán távozása óta tizenkét alkalommal ütötte fel fejét kisebb tűzvész, ám mindig sikerült időben megállítani a terjedését. Másik levelében pedig Hayreddin Barbarossa admirális egyik csatájáról tesz jelentést apjának, meglepő pontossággal és precizitással.

Emellett a herceg levele arra is bizonyítékul szolgál, hogy a hercegek (legalábbis Mehmed bizonyosan) tehettek javaslatokat, fordulhattak kéréssel apjukhoz, politikai témákban is. Ugyanis levelében Mehmed ezerszeresen megköszöni édesapjának, hogy a elfogadta javaslatát és egyik kegyeltjét Pilak Mustafa Pasát magasabb pozícióba emelte. Mehmed nagyon kedvelte ugyanis Pilak Mustafa Pasát, így szerette volna, ha a pasa felemelkedhet a ranglétrán. Döntésében valószínűleg édesanyja is támogatta, mert ő volt az, aki a háremből választott ki egy lányt Pilak Mustafa Pasa jövendőbeli feleségének.

Mehmed a politika, történelem és más fontos témakörök mellett művészeteket és nyelvet is tanult. Tudjuk, hogy az oszmán török nyelv meleltt beszélt perzsául, arabul is értett, sőt egyesek szerint latinul is tanult. Jól látható tehát, hogy oktatása mindenre kiterjedt volt és, hogy Szulejmán valódi édesapaként támogatta fiát döntéseiben, komolyan fontolóra vette a kisherceg javaslatait. Már ezek is, és leveleik viszonylagos közvetlensége is utal arra, hogy a szultán és Mehmed igen közel álltak egymáshoz.

Az ifjú herceg

Élete első igazán fontos pozícióját 1534-ben kapta. Ez az év igen eseméyndús volt a családnak, hiszen koratavasszal hunyt el Szulejmán édesanyja, Hafsa szultána, majd Szulejmán hamarosan felszabadította, feleségül vette és a hárem fejévé tette Mehmed édesanyját, Hürremet. Emellett, amikor egy igenhosszú iráni hadjáratra indult, Mehmed herceget hagyta a Topkapi Palotában, hogy vigyázza a birodalmat. Ez minden bizonnyal hatalmas büszkeséggel töltötte el a mindössze 14 éves herceget, és igen komoly terhet rótt annak édesanyjára és oktatóira. Valószínűleg ezen időszakban költözött át az egész család a Régi Palotából a Topkapi Palotába.

A herceg posztja, Isztambul védelmezőjeként és az, hogy sikerrel teljesítette a rá bízott feladatot, minden bizonnyal tovább növelte benne a vágyat, hogy mielőbb saját tartományt kapjon és valódi harci tapasztalatokat szerezzen. Utóbbira nem kellett sokat várnia, 1537-ben csatlakozhatott édesapjához annak korfui hadjáratán. A tartományra viszont még éveket kellett várnia.

Végül 1541-ben két öccsével, Szelimmel és Bayeziddel karöltve elkísérték apjukat annak budai hadjáratára, a hadjárat után pedig Szulejmán kinevezte őt első hercegi tartományába, Manisába. Manisában korábban Musztafa herceg élt, ám őt Szulejmán már jóval Mehmed kinevezése előtt másik tartományba helyeztette át, ahol tapasztalatait jobban tudja kamatoztatni. Így tehát az a legenda, miszerint Szulejmán Mehmed kedvéért száműzte Musztafát Manisából, nem igaz. Végül 1541 November 12-én érkezett meg Mehmed Manisába.

A tradíció azt diktálta volna, hogy édesanyja kísérje a herceget, mint ahogy Musztafát is elkísérte édesanyja és ahogy korábban Szulejmánt is elkísérte Hafsa. Azonban Hürrem kivételes helyzete miatt, mint több herceg anyja, mint a szultán hites felesége, nem kísérte el fiát. Ez nem jelenti azonban azt, hogy magára hagyta volna. Mehmed dajkája tartott vele, márpedig egy dajka abban az időszakban sokszor még az édesanyánál is közelebb állt a gyermekekhez, így Mehmed egészen biztosan nem szenvedett hiányt támogatóban. A dajkák egyébként meglehetősen nagy becsben álltak, mind a közvélemény, mind a család szemében. Tudjuk például, hogy Mehmed dajkája élete végéig kimagasló fizetést kapott, annyit, mint amennyi egy vezető hárem kalfát illetett meg. A dajkaság ugyanis egy életre szólt, és a herceg édesanyjának hiányában a dajkát tekintették a hercegi anya megtestesülésének, így szava szent volt. Természetesen pontosan a poszt kimagasló fontossága miatt, egyértelmű, hogy a dajka csak olyan személy lehetett, aki a végletekig hűséges volt Hürremhez.

Emellett Hürrem maga választotta ki a herceg háremét a legrátermedtebb ágyasokból, kalfákból és eunuchokból. Sőt! Hürrem az első adandó alkalommal meglátogatta fiát. 1543-ban Hürrem már Manisában is volt, ám látogatásának oka nem tisztázott. Lehet, hogy "csak" meg akarta látogatni fiát, mások szerint Mehmed első gyermekének születése miatt utazott oda. Mehmed első és egyetlen gyermeke, lánya Hümaşah ugyanis ekkortájt születhetett. Így tehát Hürrem lehetséges, hogy friss nagymamaként hagyhatta el Manisát, hogy meglátogassa férjét, aki éppen a közelben táborozott egy hadjárat után.

A tragédia

Hürrem már majdnem elérte Szulejmán Drinápolyi táborát, amikor hírt kapott Manisából: Mehmed herceg elhunyt. A hírvivők minden bizonnyal Hürremet érték el először, hiszen éppen Maniszából volt úton Drinápoly felé. Nem tudni, hogy Hürrem innen Szulejmánhoz sietett e, felthetőleg azonnal vissza akart fordulni Maniszába, ám ezt nem engedték neki, hiszen a herceg fertőző betegségben vesztette életét. A maniszai jegyzőkönyvek így írnak a herceg haláláról: "Azon a napon amikor egy aga hírt hozott Esztergom és Belgrád meghódításáról, hatalmas ünnepséget, tűzíjátékokat rendeztek Manisában is, és ugyanekkor Mehmed herceg beteg lett. Hat napig nyomta az ágyat. A hetedik éjszaka előtt a herceg meghalt. Egy rövid gyászszertatás után tanítója, a kincstárnok Ibrahim Çelebi és néhány aga azonnal útnak indultak a herceg testével együtt Isztambulba. Haláláig a herceg egy évet és két napot töltött Manisában." A halál pontos okára pedig egy korábbi bejegyzés szolgálhat bizonyítékul: "Ezév tavaszán a pestis újra megjelent a városba és nagyon sok családot temetett a föld alá." Így nem lehet kizárni, hogy a herceg is a pestistől hunyt el, ám bármilyen más betegség is lehetséges, ugyanis nincsenek közvetlen bizonyítékok. Akárhogyan is, Mehmed herceg 1543 November 7-én örökre lehunyta szemeit.

Legendás temetése

A hercegeket a hagyományok szerint Bursában temették el, akár kivégezték őket, akár természetes halállal haltak meg. Mehmed testét azonban gyorsan Isztambulba indították. Kérdéses, hogy Szulejmán szultán rendelte így vagy Mehmed tanítója maga cselekedett, a források ugyanis nem egyeznek. Ám valószínűtlennek tűnik, hogy egy tanító meg mert volna hozni egy ilyen komoly döntést a szultán engedélye nélkül.

Amikor Mehmed Isztambulba ért november 18-án az emberek, agák, pasák és mindenki csodálkozott, de elfogadták. Arra számítottak, hogy nagyapja I. Szelim, esetleg II. Bayezid mecsetjében helyezik majd örök nyugalomra, ahogyan Szulejmán korábban elhunyt gyermekeit is. Szulejmánnak és Hürremnek azonban más tervei voltak.

Mivel a testet mielőbb el kellett temetni, végül a Bayezid téren tartották meg a temetést, és egy ideiglenes türbébe helyezték a herceg testét. Temetése alatt a szultán több, mint 2 órán keresztül zokogott megállíthatatlanul és nem engedte, hogy a testet eltemessék. Ezekután pedig a szokásos 3 nap helyett, 40 napig rendelt el imádságokat a fia lelkiüdvéért és a pasáknak 40 napig kellett gyászruhában járni a szokásos 3 helyett. Szulejmán maga is sokáig csak feketét viselt. Ez is jól mutatja az apa fájdalmát. Hürrem eközben gyászát azzal igyekezett enyhíteni, hogy magához vette Mehmed kislányát annak édesanyjával együtt. De hónapokig szoros megfigyelés alatt tartotta Mehmed többi ágyasát is, hátha valamelyikük áldott állapotban van. Sajnálatosan egyik ágyas sem volt várandós. Mindenesetre Mehmed kislánya, Hümaşah vigaszt nyújtott a gyászoló szultánnak és feleségének, hiszen ő lett egyik kedvenc unokájuk, Mihrimah leánya és Szelim fia mellett.

Azonban mindez nem volt elég Hürremnek és Szulejmánnak, ezért úgy döntöttek, mecsetet építtetnek fiuk számára. A követek döbbenetüket fejezték ki jelentéseikben és Isztambul népe is meglepetten állt a hír hallatán. Főleg, hogy a mecsetet Isztambul egy igen kiemelt pontján tervezték megépíteni, azon a telken, melyen Szulejmán szultán már hónapokkal Mehmed halála előtt építkezésbe kezdett. A szultán ugyanis saját komplexumát tervezte felhúzni a csodálatos színtéren, amikor azonban fia halána után meggondolta magát és a komplexumot inkább fiának ajánlotta. Ez egyébként nem csak nagylelkű és példátlan húzás volt, de meglehetősen merész is. Szulejmán ugyanis már nem volt fiatal, egyáltalán nem volt biztos, hogy életében képes lesz még egy másik komplexumot is felépíttetni önmaga számára, tehát azt kockáztatta meg, hogy soha nem lesz a fővárosban saját építkezési projektje. Be kell lássuk, ez nem kis kockázat egy szultántól. A sors végül elég időt adott Szulejmánnak arra, hogy szinte Mehmed herceg mecsetjének szomszédságában felhúzhassa saját, hatalmas komplexumát is.

Mehmed mecset komplexumának építkezése nagyjából öt évig tartott, mely időszakban mind Szulejmán, mint Hürrem többször is meglátogatták az építkezést és véleményezték az ott zajló munkálatokat. Gondoskodásuk jól jelzi, hogy talán igaz lehet a pletyka, miszerint Mehmed volt Szulejmán legkedvesebb fia és ő lett volna a legméltóbb a trónra Szulejmán halála után. Eszerint pedig a herceg halála nem csak a családnak volt tragédia, de az Oszmán Birodalom számára is.

Felhasznált források: L. Peirce - The imperial harem; L. Peirce - The empress of the east; G. Yermolenko - Roxolana in European Literature, History and culture

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