Let it Rain

My fellow Bostonians are bracing themselves for yet more rain. Regulars to this blog know that I am a big fan of death, plagues and catastrophes, except when they are happening to me. Then, they are not so fun. But before you start contemplating life on an arc, here is a really cheery picture:

Can you guess where this is? (Hint: It is not Venice.)
Scroll down for answer….





A little more....









A little more....








This scrolling thing is about as much fun as pumping three feet of water out of your basement…







Answer: Paris 1910 Rue de Seine
In January 1910, insane rainfall caused the Seine to flood old Paris through its sewars and drains. Yuck! You might have a lot of water in your basement, but at least you are not knee deep in your neighbors' ****.

Here is another keeper. This is Rue de Poitiers:

I doubt people had flood insurance.

Now, don’t you feel a little bit better about the mold about to grow in your basement? I told my daughter that it was "raining cats and dogs" and now she is convinced that one of those rain drops contains her new puppy. (evil laugh) Keep dreaming kid.

Louise Labe: Love and History is a Battlefield

In 1548, Henri II with and his newly raised mistress Diane de Poitiers, the Duchesse of Valentinois, were making their official entrance into Lyons. (His wife, Catherine de Medici was to arrive the next day after Diane.) The people of Lyons pulled out all the stops to honor Diane plastering the city with references to the Goddess Diana and her black and white colors. A tourney followed with ladies tokens wrapped around lances, trumpets blazing and the chivalric ideals that had not yet faded into story books.

Enter one lithe knight waving a banner with the motto Belle a Soi (Beautiful to Oneself) who had had a particular good day breaking lances and beating the competition for Diane de Poitiers’ attention. (No one really cared about impressing the queen.) Diane and Henri then requested an interview with this valorous knight, but when the knight lifted his visor, a gasp admited from the crowd....out tumbled the golden hair of Louise Labe.

Louise Labe was a multi-talented heroine, horsewoman, archer, dancer, singer, musician and even martial artist. Oh and she could also belt out Petrarchan verse with the steamy rocker poise of Pat Benatar in an 80s MTV video. Daughter and wife of a ropemaker, this lion-hearted poet raised herself out of an illiterate background and shattered the patriarchal mold with her distinct battle cry for women to, “raise their minds slightly, above their falstaffs and bobbins”. (1)

In love, Louise let out a more fervent battle cry writing lyrical sonnets in Italian and French. One of my favorites:

Sonnet IV - When Love Arrives

When Love arrives, I hide myself away,
Though filled by burning torments of desire,
That scorch and sear and scar my breast with fire,
And flames devour my heart both night and day.

O how I feel the harsh travails of Love!
The wounds and devastating dreams of death
Descend on me whenever I draw breath,
And so I sigh although I make no move.

The more Love comes, the more I am besieged.
I gather up my forces, yet I fear
The crack in my defenses may be fatal.

O archer Love, who scorns both gods and mortals,
You draw your bow and aim your shafts for all,
Then stab our hearts despite our fortress walls.

Louise was born between 1515 and 1524 at Parcieu en Dombes near Lyon, a haven for writers and humanist thinkers. Around 1543, Louise married a doting sugar daddy who afforded her a life of luxury and the freedom to follow her artistic pursuits. In Lyons, she opened up an intellectual salon to which suitors flocked to hear her coo, “As long as I can pluck the lute, I try. To sing about your charms in my refrain. As long as I can think, my fevered brain. Is burning with an ardent zeal. I cry. In 1555, her heady Oeuvres were printed by the renowned Lyonnais printer Jean de Tournes and became a best seller.

Louise died after 1566, probably due to plague. After her death, detractors couldn’t wrap their jaundiced minds around a woman publishing such passionate poetry. In 1584, John Calvin denounced Louise as a courtesan and whore and she became known as "la Belle Cordière" (the beautiful ropemakers wife). In 2006, professor and author Mireille Huchon argued that Louise Labe’s poetry was really written by the men who frequented her intellectual circle - Maurice Scève, Olivier de Magny, Claude de Taillemont, Jacques Peletier du Mans, Guillaume des Autels, and others, and by the publisher Jean de Tournes.

I confess that I have not read Huchon’s book (because it is in French and my French ends with ordering my Café au Lait) but her poems seem far too consistent to be written by a group of ghost writers and forgive me for being so naïve… but they just don’t sound like the work of a man. Plus, Jean de Tournes published other works by female writers including Marguerite de Navarre's Marguerites de la Marguerite des Princesses (1547) and far more caustic feminist tracks like Franqois Habert's Nouvelle Iuno, Nouvelle Pallas, and Nouvelle Venus (1545, 1547).

Debate still continues on Louise Labe's life as a poet, but she won't be the first Renaissance lady reduced to sex pot over intellectual siren. Perhaps Louise knew better than anyone her biographers would battle over her reputation when she wrote, "I see my fate, and it’s a bitter pill."

Notes:
(1) p.411 Rigolot.

Sources and Further Reading
Louise Labé and the "Climat Lyonnois", François Rigolot, The French Review, Vol. 71, No. 3 (Feb., 1998), pp. 405-413, American Association of Teachers of French.
M. Wilson, Katharina. Women writers of the Renaissance and Reformation, Athens, Ga.: University of Georgia Press, 1987.
Louise Labe's poetry

Puppy Urine and Picture Books

On Monday, I had the opportunity to sit down with some extra smart 4th and 5th graders at the Margaret Neary School in Southborough. I learned something very important. They don't read picture books. Yes, I already knew this, but I still needed to hear it. And boy did I ever hear it. I heard it about 10 times over. Their questions to me went something like this...

"Have you ever done a chapter book?"
10 minutes later....
"Do you think you could do a chapter book next?"
15 minutes later...
"What is your favorite chapter book?"
10 minutes later....
"Sooooooooo do you illustrate chapter books?"

ok ok I get it. When I was a kid, we loved picture books. Now, they are reading Moby Dick before they are out of diapers. Still, I wouldn't go down without a fight so I tried to explain that The Raucous Royals was a picture book for older kids.  But I just got that look. You know the look...like you are trying to convince them that red jello counts as a desert when clearly it is just a suspicious gelatin mass that should only be eaten by people missing teeth.

Luckily, they still enjoyed The Raucous Royals because of the puppy urine. (There is a page that explains how puppy urine was used to beautify women) I got quite a few questions about the puppy urine. Let that be a lesson to any picture book authors. Puppy urine is educational. Picture books are not.

The Quack Doctor has a new newsletter

One of my favorite blogs, The Quack Doctor now has a new newsletter full of odd and strange emphemera from medicine's painful past. (The newsletter sign up is on the right hand side. ) Check out this recent post on Omega Oil.

We could chortle at our silly grandparents for digesting green goo to cure "corset pain" but I am not entirely convinced our modern medicine is always safe. I was recently really disturbed to know that the Omega- 3 Fatty Acids I have been shoveling in my mouth (while pregnant and nursing) contain dangerous levels of PCB. Nothing like feeding your unborn child the same chemical used in flame retardents and paint. yum.

Who is the Old Duchesse?

People have often wondered who is portrayed in Leonardo's sketch, The Old Duchesse  (shown below). Some art historians believe the woman might have suffered from Paget's disease. Others believe that the drawing is meant to satirize a woman beyond the prime of her youth. Another theory is that she is a real person - a portrait of the Duchess Margarete of Tyrol-Görz, who was known as Maultasch, ("bag mouth"), which means "whore" or "ugly woman". (because of her marital scandals).

The Beauty in Ugly
Leonardo's drawing has been a big inspiration for me to paint the ugly as beautiful. Although this woman is certainly not The Pretty One there is still something undeniably beautiful about her. I love the way she is all gussied up with her breasts corseted and her hair in the horned hairstyle that had become so popular at the time. This woman may look ugly to us but she certainly doesn't feel ugly. It's a subject that I am exploring in my next book. More on that later...

Quentin Matsys painted The Grotesque Woman based on Leonardo's sketch.

And that served as a basis for John Tenniel's depiction of the Duchesse in Alice's Adventures in Wonderland.

I found this great post on the origins of some of the other characters in Alice in Wonderland from Jennifer over at Rambling, Rants and Other Random Nonsence

Sources and Further Reading:

Eco, Umberto On ugliness. New York, NY : Rizzoli, 2007

Fit for a queen giveaway winner!

The winner of this month's jewelry giveaway is.....The Thatcher Family. Congratulations Thatcher Family.

The drawing was pulled from all Twitter and Followers of this blog this morning. Unfortunately, most of you missed the live version including: the runway, the gowns, (I was wearing my best pink bathrobe) the upset, (my daughter was crying because we were ignoring her for two second) the cameras flashing and the applause. No worries. I have artfully reconstructed some of the drama below.

*I am referring to my husband as AH (annoyed husband) because I am told that you should never reveal too much information over the internet.

ME: Twitters or Followers?
AH: What?
ME: Twitters or Followers? (rolling my eyes)
AH: oh...I  know what Twitter is. I heard about that on the news. (trying to look cool).
ME: Twitters or Followers?
AH: Followers. I am sick of hearing about Twitter.
ME: OK pick a number between 1 and 94.
AH: 56
ME: Thanks for playing.

And thus I clicked on my followers gadget and then counted until I reached 56 and that was the Thatcher family (which I think has won before?). To receive this prize, you must be in the US. If the Thatcher family is not then I have to pick another winner.

I am going to try to have another giveaway this month for all of you old school newsletter folks (I know technology is scary). That giveaway is open to US and International contestants. If you are not a newsletter subscriber then you can subscribe here.

Whispering Pines Writers Retreat 2010: Giddy up!

Picture your editor whinnying and trotting around the playground as a kid. Or maybe their first big New York job that landed them smack in the middle of the not-so glamorous double skim latte world of Starbucks. How about your agent changing baby diapers for their clients? These are just a few of the intimate details that brought Whispering Pines Writers Retreat to life.

Whispering Pines is one of those retreats that fills up so fast, I usually never get to go. It is limited to 24 full time participants so writers really do get to know editors and agents on a first-hand basis. The retreat takes places in the Alton Jones Campus in West Greenwich, RI, a setting perfect for the next Shining sequel. I was a bit terrified that I would get mauled by wild bears, but I managed to survive the wilderness and come away excited to work on my next project.

Here are a few highlights:

Newbery Honor Winner, Cynthia Lord, author of Rules, spoke on the craft of plotting. Plot is one of those things that scares me more than wild bears, but Cynthia made plot look as simple as baking cookies on a Sunday afternoon (ok that is a bad analogy because I really can’t bake either). Of course plotting is not easy, but a good author always makes it look effortless.

Alexandra Penfold, Associate Editor with Paula Wiseman Books, spoke about her revision process and some of the projects she is working on such as, The Teashop Girls by Laura Schaefer. She not only had everyone laughing until it hurt about her former life as a show pony, but also had many insights into keeping the child’s voice in your writing.

Connie Hsu, Assistant Editor at Little, Brown Books for Young Readers regaled us with tales of how she got her start in publishing (she knows your pain!) and then jumped into “World Building” for Fantasy writers. I also loved hearing the background story behind a new journal style book by comic artist Stephen Emond, Happyface. This book is on my must read list.

Agent Rebecca Sherman of Writers House read us her hilarious acceptance letter and got down to business on what she looks for in a good query.

I also had the honor to speak this year and babble on about some of my history crushes. Thank you to everyone who stuck around to hear about Michelangelo's angst and my messy writing process.

If you would like to go to Whispering Pines then you should contact Lynda Mullaly Hunt. I am not sure if they accept reservations this early, but I have heard that they are getting an amazing line up next year and spots usually fill up in less than a week.

I am going to pick a winner for the giveaway tonight...more later.

Me Me Me. It's all about me.

Several people have told me that the Bearded Lady, Annie Jones from my book Who put the B in the Ballyhoo? looks like me. I like those people. She is obviously quite a vixen.

Other people have said I look like my unflattering portrayal of Anne Boleyn from The Raucous Royals. I don't like those people as much.

And when my husband first saw the image of Babe Ruth, (The Fat Lady), he said that she looked just like me. I didn't speak to him for days.

But he was right. She does look like me. In fact, every face I paint looks a little like me. I paint me everywhere. Sheeeesh... I must be one of those narcissistic crazies. 

Or maybe all artists paint themselves in portraits? And I found this GREAT site (The artscholar.org)  to proove it.

Below is Titian's portrayal of Pope Paul III. They could be twins.

Did Van Eyck marry his sister? I doubt it.

And this is why art scholars who say the Mona Lisa is a self-portrait are just not getting it.

There is also a section on the site that has different portraits of Napoleon. Every artist made Napoleon look just a little like the artist. What do you think?

Sources:

Art from Who put the B in the Ballyhoo? and The Raucous Royals

Portrait comparisons from the Art Scholar

18th century Fan Flirting verses Chat Abbreviations... FYA (For your amusement)

You probably have heard about the latest phenomenon in online chatting - Chatroulette. Basically, it is speed dating on the internet where you click from one stranger to the next. All you need is a webcam and an internet connection. No age limits. No restrictions. Just type the usual cryptic chat abbreviations and move to the next person. Ugh. Where is the romance?

(switching to my patronizing old lady voice now...)
Teenagers today may think that they are the first generation to use a coded language to chat with their peers, but they don't have anything on 18th century fan flirting.

The following are the fan signals and their text messaging equivalents:

Hush...we might be overheard:

Text abbreviation: MOS (Mother over shoulder)
Fan abbreviation: Fan closed, place tip to lips

Keep our secret

Text abbreviation: BM&Y (Between me and you)

Fan abbreviation: Cover left ear with closed fan

If you mistrust the person:
Text abbreviation: TILIS (Tell it like it is)
Fan abbreviation: Fan closed, place tip to nose.

If someone’s conversation is not stimulating:
Text abbreviation: BOOMS (Bored out of my skull)
Fan abbreviation: Yawn behind a closed fan

If you want him to get lost:
Text abbreviation: BIH! (Burn in hell) or BOB (Back off buddy)
Fan abbreviation: Lower an open fan and point it at the ground

If you don't believe his compliments
Text abbreviation: GIAR (Give it a rest)
Fan abbreviation: Place your chin on the tip of the fan

To let him down gently:
Text abbreviation: NFM (Not for me)
Fan abbreviation: Open your fan and make a brushing movement like you are swatting an annoying fly

If you are interested:
Text abbreviation: BG (Big grin) or G (Giggle) or more to the point -  URH (You are hot)
Fan abbreviation: Open your fan and use it to coquettishly hide your eyes

If you are really interested
Text abbreviation: ILU, ILY (I love you)
Fan abbreviation: Place the tip of your fan to your heart

You are interested enough for a tryst
Text abbreviation: BTYCL? (Bootycall)
Fan abbreviation: Open fan slightly over heart and flutter it to indicate the time of your rendez-vous

Not only could a girl use her fan to communicate quick emotions, but have whole conversations in a sort of fan Morse code. Charles Francis Bandini's "fanology" taught the subtle art of fan flirting and much like today's text abbreviations, fanology promised to "Improve the Friendship and set forth a plan for ladies to chit chat and hold the tongue."

Below is the teaching device for "Fanology" or "The Ladies Conversation Fan."

Here is how it worked:
To chat with your buddies, you would place your fan in the correct letter position using a 2 combination number. Letters were first broken up into five different fan positions similiar to how the keys on some cell phones are grouped with 3 letters on one key (ok...I have a really old phone).

Position 1 was A-E.
Position 2 was F-K.
Position 3 was L- P.
Position 4 was Q-U.
Position 5 was V-Z
"J" was eliminated.

The second number would indicate the letter postion from within that group. So for example, if you wanted to spell L * O * V * E, you would put your fan in position 3 and 1 to indicate "L". Then you would put your fan in position 3 and postion 4 to sign "O". And so on. This would work wonders to flirt with your man across a crowded room....unless he was nearsighted, in which case all that incessant flapping would just cool your ardor.*

This fan language was not something to take lightly. If a girl didn’t know the correct fan signals then she could make some serious social blunders. Such was the case when Baroness Oberkirch leaned over to show Marie Antoinette her bracelet and accidentally opened her fan (gasp!...a fan was never to be opened in the presence of the queen in Versailles unless used as a tray.) But at least with fan flirting, there was not a Tiger Woods digital record of your social faux pas. FRT! (For Real Though)

Unfortunately, 18th century fan flirting was probably not as quixotic as the movies and bodice ripper novels portray it. Fans also allowed women to conceal their rotting teeth behind fluttering pictorials or at least keep a safe distance from her beau without knocking him out with her bad breath. Still, you have to love the delicate details in these fans. You can purchase this 18th century tortoise shell fan for $1,600. Isn't it beautiful? sigh. A girl can dream.

Now that video chatting has become so popular, maybe teens could at least skip the text abbreviations and get out their fans? No?? Feel free to share these fan flirting tips with an angst ridden teen. Don’t expect them to be impressed.

*By the 19th century, the Victorians had completely rewrote the fan language etiquette so you better have the most recent code book or you might tell the object of your desire to beat it when you really meant you make my heart beat.

Sources and Further Reading:
Wikipedia has more chat abbreviations here.
Images from V&A Collections
Picard, Liza. Dr. Johnson's London : coffee-houses and climbing boys, medicine, toothpaste, and gin, poverty and press-gangs, freakshows and female education, New York : St. Martin's Press, 2001.
Stabile, Susan. Memory's Daughters: The Material Culture of Remembrance in Eighteenth-Century America, Cornell University Press, 2004