Friday, August 3, 2018

The Ball




From The British Library:
In reality, Austen loved balls, which were the most exciting events in provincial life. In her novels, she uses them brilliantly for their combination of propriety and passion. In Pride and Prejudice, the mutual attraction of Elizabeth Bennet and Mr Darcy is established through their behaviour towards each other at a succession of balls. They approach and retreat, tease and repel each other, as in an elaborate dance. At the assembly ball (where anyone who pays for a ticket can take part) Mr Darcy fancies himself above it all. With extraordinary rudeness, he lets Elizabeth overhear his description of her as ‘tolerable; but not handsome enough to tempt me’ (ch. 3). He later tastes his own medicine when he offers himself as Elizabeth’s dance partner at the Lucases and is turned down. Finally, at the Netherfield ball (a grand occasion, entry by invitation only), he suddenly asks for ‘her hand’ and ‘without knowing what she did’ she accepts (ch. 18). ‘Without knowing what she did’ because at the ball Austen shows us Elizabeth’s unconscious interest in Mr Darcy.

Codes of behaviour were exacting. At the Netherfield ball Elizabeth must dance with Mr Collins because if a woman turns down one request for a dance she must turn down all others. Say no to Mr Collins and you must stand out for the whole evening. Elizabeth’s first two dances (the maximum you were allowed with the same partner) are therefore ‘dances of mortification’. Mr Collins, ‘often moving wrong without being aware of it’, gives her ‘all the shame and misery which a disagreeable partner for a couple of dances can give’ (ch. 18). He, of course, thinks that he has done brilliantly, the dance being a preparation for his proposal of marriage the next day. (Read more.)
More HERE. Share

Selling Your Soul

Not that it ever once entered my mind that I might be selling my soul for supporting Trump, in spite of the virulent attacks from all sides. I saw voting for Clinton, or doing anything to help her win, as not only soul-selling but soul-destroying. From Life Site:
This was one of first lessons drilled into me at Hillsdale: human nature is fallen. The Founders knew self-serving leaders would be such a constant of American history that they baked it into the Constitution, balancing the various parts of government so that ambition would be “made to counteract ambition.” They expected checks and balances to work through officeholders’ self-interest, not their high-mindedness.

In other words, they never expected selfless moral exemplars to be the norm, and understood that the task of good government doesn’t indefinitely pause just because we dislike the finite choices the democratic process has given us. The question remains whether to attempt to do good through a flawed vehicle, or accept an administration committed to massive evil. (Read more.)
Share

Drinking Cold Water & Other 19th-Century Causes of Death

From Shannon Selin:
In 1820, there were a total of 9,617 deaths reported in New York, Philadelphia, Baltimore and Boston. (1) These were the four largest cities in the United States, with a combined population of 293,544. (2) Approximately half of those who died (4,762) were under 20 years old. Of these, fully half (2,436) were children under the age of one.
The largest single causes of death were:
  • Consumption (tuberculosis) – 1,619 deaths (17%)
  • Stillbirth – 561 (6%)
  • Cholera – 480 (5%)
  • Dysentery – 439 (5%)
  • Typhus fever – 368 (4%).
The remaining deaths were ascribed to a great variety of causes, hinting at rather discretionary methods of investigation and categorization: e.g., affection of the stomach & head (2 deaths), indigestion (1 death), hydrophobia (1 death), hysteria (1 death). Forty-six deaths were pinned on “teething.” Ninety-seven were simply classified as “sudden.” The 106 deaths attributed to “unknown” causes presumably had less inventive reporters. What really stands out, though, are the 16 deaths blamed on “drinking cold water.” (Read more.)
Share

Thursday, August 2, 2018

Anna of Prussia

The granddaughter of the great Queen Louise who converted to Catholicism in spite of political backlash. From Arrayed in Gold:
In 1852, she met the young Emperor Franz Joseph I of Austria when he was on a visit to Berlin. He fell in love with Anna and wanted to marry her. The emperor's mother, Archduchess Sophie, was also quite taken with her, and wrote a letter to her sister, the Queen of Prussia, referring to Franz Joseph's feelings: "...the happiness that showed itself to him like a fleeting dream and made an impression on his heart -- alas -- much stronger and deeper than I had first thought".

As much as Franz Joseph wanted to propose to Anna, she was already engaged to Landgrave Frederick William of Hesse-Kassel. To further add complications, the Prussian court were against an alliance with Austria. The Archduchess Sophie, determined as ever, was hopeful that "this sad marriage, which they are imposing on this charming Anna and which leaves her no prospect of happiness whatsoever, could be prevented". The matchmaking was unsuccessful and Anna married Frederick William on May 26, 1853 at the Charlottenburg Palace in Berlin.
The 17 year-old Anna was Frederick William's second wife. He was previously married to Grand Duchess Alexandra Nikolaievna of Russia, a cousin of Anna on her mother's side, but Alexandra died tragically of tuberculosis shortly after giving birth to her baby. Frederick William lost both his wife and son on the same day and it was a devastating blow for him. It took him a long time to find another wife, but the tragedy of Alexandra's death seemed to have preyed into his mind long after he married Anna. Both he and Anna shared a harmonious married life; both respected each other, but Frederick William never truly got over his loss of Alexandra, and as a result he became emotionally distant towards Anna. Nevertheless, the couple went on to have six children. Anna was considered a fashionable woman who place an utmost care in her appearance. Her splendid figure was flattered by her taste for dresses that have ample skirts and low neckline. 
She was also very interested in music and the arts. She had remarkable talent in playing the piano, having been trained by German composer Theodore Kullak. She was also a great friend of Clara Schumann, Anton Rubinstein and Johannes Brahms; the latter even dedicated a piano quintet for her. Later in her life, Anna converted to Roman Catholicism, much to the chagrin of the Prussian court, especially the Kaiser William II. (Read more.)
More HERE. Share

You Can’t Support Abortion and Still Be a Conservative

Abortion is wrong even from an Enlightenment point of view. From Life Site:
Let’s be clear: legal abortion is at least as repugnant to conservative principles as any other proposition Goldberg or his colleagues have ever attempted to read out of the movement.

Finding a universally-accepted definition for a political philosophy can be tricky business, but most conservatives would agree that if nothing else, American conservatism is about conserving the principles of the American Founding. And while there’s naturally debate on how exactly to apply some of those principles, it’s pretty safe to say that the Declaration of Independence is essential.

It establishes that the core purpose of government is to secure the unalienable rights God has equally endowed on every human being – and among those rights, “life” is the first one listed. It’s the obvious prerequisite to exercising any of the other freedoms for which conservatism stands.

If you accept the Declaration’s premises, the only question remaining is one of fact, not philosophy: are the preborn the same kind of “life” Thomas Jefferson was writing about? The inarguable answer is yes.

According to all the established criteria of modern biology, a whole, distinct, living human exists once fertilization has occurred. To quote Goldberg’s National Review colleague Ramesh Ponnuru, from his 2006 book The Party of Death:
The formation of the embryo marks the beginning of a new human life: a new and complete organism that belongs to the human species. Embryology textbooks say so, with no glimmer of uncertainty or ambiguity [...] At each of our earlier stages of life, we have been, as we are now, whole living members of the species Homo sapiens. Honest and clear-eyed supporters of [liberal legal theorist Robert] Dworkin’s “choices for death” do not deny the biological facts. Rather, they argue that making choices to kill human beings, and allowing people to make these choices, can be justified.
As for pro-abortion counter-arguments, atheists deny human life has innate value or spiritual content prior to consciousness, “religious” pro-aborts falsely claim God is silent on the question, and radicals insist that none of the above outweighs “bodily autonomy.”

Pro-lifers have extensively refuted all of them, but the arguments all have something else in common besides being wrong: they all rest on premises utterly foreign to conservatism. Again, the divine value of human life is baked into the Declaration’s starting premise. John Locke is even more explicit about it: we are “all the workmanship of one omnipotent, and infinitely wise maker,” and as such are “made to last during his, not one another's pleasure” (what all this means for atheist/agnostic conservatives is a question for another day, but suffice to say that conservatives are supposed to see human rights as non-negotiable, whatever their source).

The idea that “bodily autonomy” entails a right to abort is similarly alien to conservative thought. It has no basis in America’s legal history from before the Founding through the Fourteenth Amendment, and is awfully hard to square with Locke’s conclusion that “all parents were, by the law of nature, under an obligation to preserve, nourish, and educate the children they had begotten.” (Read more.)
Share

Fall of the Roman Empire

From Ancient History Encyclopedia:
To many historians, the fall of the Western Roman Empire in the 5th century CE has always been viewed as the end of the ancient world and the onset of the Middle Ages, often improperly called the Dark Ages, despite Petrarch’s assertion. Since much of the west had already fallen by the middle of the 5th century CE, when a writer speaks of the fall of the empire, he or she generally refers to the fall of the city of Rome. Although historians generally agree on the year of the fall, 476 CE, they often disagree on its causes. English historian Edward Gibbon, who wrote in the late 18th century CE, points to the rise of Christianity and its effect on the Roman psyche while others believe the decline and fall were due, in part, to the influx of 'barbarians' from the north and west.

Whatever the cause, whether it was religion, external attack, or the internal decay of the city itself, the debate continues to the present day; however, one significant point must be established before a discussion of the roots of the fall can continue: the decline and fall were only in the west. The eastern half - that which would eventually be called the Byzantine Empire - would continue for several centuries, and, in many ways, it retained a unique Roman identity. (Read more.)
Share

Wednesday, August 1, 2018

Designing with Yellow


From Southern Lady Magazine:
Many people find working with color in home décor to be challenging. Throughout the summer, we’ll be sharing guides to help you dive in and face your fears – color by color. In the first installment of our series, we’ll walk you through designing with the color yellow. Whether you’re looking to breathe new life into a dated room or simply adventuring into using a new hue, yellow can be a great option to add brightness and character to your home. Here is a collection of some our favorite yellow rooms with helpful tips from award-winning Texas interior designer, Jan Showers. (Read more.)
Share

Wishful Thinking

From The New York Post:
Trump-is-doomed stories are one of the media’s favorite fairy tales. Remember when you saw “Peter Pan” when you were 4 and you actually thought that clapping for Tinkerbell would bring her back to life? Pundits think that if they cheer loudly enough for Trump to get eighty-sixed, it’ll happen. His (first?) term in office is more than a third over, and the Very Serious Commentators have been ushering him out the door the entire time. Or at least they’ve been trying to. It turns out that Trump doesn’t pay a lot of attention to the usher-pundits.

“Michael Cohen and the End Stage of the Trump Presidency,” ran a headline in The New Yorker. That was back on April 14. Writer Adam Davidson gravely averred, “This is the week we know, with increasing certainty, that we are entering the last phase of the Trump Presidency. This doesn’t feel like a prophecy; it feels like a simple statement of the apparent truth.” Can something really be a “certainty” if its odds are still “increasing?” Death is a certainty. The likelihood of it occurring is, however, quite stable. But, hey, Davidson could be right. Remember when Karl Marx said it was an inevitable historical fact that capitalism would die? It’s only been 150 years — give the man time! By contrast, recall that, a year before Davidson turned The New Yorker into his personal prophecy-delivery system, The Independent promised (May 18, 2017), “This is how Donald Trump’s presidency will crumble in the next year.” Amateurish. Never supply an expiration date that could falsify your claim. Be thunderously certain, pundits — but be vague in your certainty.

Another favorite pundit trick is the “closing wall” metaphor. Stand clear of your closing walls, Mr. President! New York City Congressman Jerry Nadler said on May 21 that Trump “is very upset that the walls are closing in, and that the investigators are closing in on him.” Nadler was echoing Stephen Colbert, from April 11 (“The walls have been closing in on the president, and he’s not happy,”) and The Daily Beast of March 12 (“The Walls Are Closing in on Trump”). (Read more.)
Share

Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini

From My Favorite Classical Music:
Today I want to share with you Rachmaninoff’s “Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini.” Niccolo Paganini, Italian violin virtuoso and composer, wrote 24 capriccios for violin – 24 very short but extremely difficult pieces to play. I feel like they were written for the performers, not the listeners – they are as difficult to listen to as they are to play (at least in large doses). Sergey Rachmaninoff took themes from these capriccios and basically wrote a concerto for piano and orchestra. If you don’t listen to the whole rhapsody, you should at least give variation no. 18 a chance – as my son Jonah said last week, “This is the most beautiful piece of music ever written!”. Last Friday the kids and I listened to probably a dozen different performances of this variation. (Read more.)
Share