Friday, May 6, 2011

Caring About Your Appearance

Is it vanity? Betty Beguiles reflects on the virtues of maintaining one's appearance, saying:
No one wants to be around a woman who feels badly about herself. Who would I bless by being too tired or overweight to tend to my duties? What message would I be sending to my children? How effectively could I witness to the culture if I dragged my disheveled self around here, there and everywhere? And how would my husband feel if I never made an effort to dress up a bit for him? (Read More)
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Thursday, May 5, 2011

Caleb's Crossing

It appears to be book review week at Tea at Trianon. I did not plan it that way; it is just that I have read so many wonderful books lately. I highly recommend Caleb's Crossing by Pulitzer Prize-winning author Geraldine Brooks. Another marvelous selection from the BlogHer Book Club, it vividly describes life in Puritan New England from the point of view of a young minister's daughter. My review is HERE. Share

Politically Incorrect Gardening

On the beauty of imported plants. To quote:
No plant should be introduced to the lawn-and-garden world until its backers are certain it won't become a noxious pest. Plant companies didn't always do that in the past. But the vast majority of imported plants are well-behaved. They have been enjoyed by homeowners and landscapers for decades, if not hundreds of years, without causing problems.
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Wednesday, May 4, 2011

Girl in Translation

I had recently had the privilege of reviewing Girl in Translation on behalf of the BlogHer Book Club. A debut novel by Chinese-American Jean Kwok, Girl in Translation is a heart-wrenching, coming-of-age story about a young girl striving to better herself in spite of life in a modern sweat shop. My review is HERE.
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The King's Speech (2010)

King George VI: If I'm King, where's my power? Can I form a government? Can I levy a tax, declare a war? No! And yet I am the seat of all authority. Why? Because the nation believes that when I speak, I speak for them. But I can't speak. ~from The King's Speech (2010)
 I finally saw The King's Speech, the Academy-award winning film about King George VI's struggle to overcome a debilitating stammer. The perfect follow-up to the wedding of the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge, it  features the famous London landmarks shown in the wedding footage as they were in the 1930's. Although the film is about famous royal figures, the battle to overcome an infirmity is an experience which knows no rank. A troubled childhood can scar the psyche no matter what the social background might be. Likewise, the courage and humility to seek healing confer nobility upon highborn and lowborn alike. In this case, a fragile man of royal birth is aided by the friendship and understanding of a mentor to become the strong and courageous leader he is called upon to be.

With Colin Firth as King George (called "Bertie") and Helena Bonham Carter as Queen Elizabeth (later known to history as the "Queen Mum") one can only expect the acting to be exceptional. However, the performances exceeded my expectations; I felt like I was looking at the real Bertie and Elizabeth, in spite of the fact that there is no resemblance between Firth and George VI. Geoffrey Rush is a delight to watch as Lionel Logue, the Australian eccentric who becomes Bertie's teacher and friend. When his playboy brother King Edward VIII abdicates so he can marry his mistress, the twice divorced Mrs. Wallis Simpson (labeled "that woman" by Elizabeth), Bertie must ascend the throne. His country is on the brink of war with Germany, a war in which the United Kingdom will be compelled to fight for survival. As a constitutional monarch he has few powers but enormous responsibility. In a cogent and emotive speech, George VI rallies and heartens his people as they prepare to be undefeated in the Battle of Britain. He shows that a king, by exceeding all political parties and relying on the grace of God, can reach the heart of a nation in spite of his own human weakness.

Although the film is fraught with humor, it is at it's heart a moving human drama. The deep and abiding spousal love of Bertie and Elizabeth is contrasted with Edward's torrid romantic obsession with Mrs. Simpson. I think Edward (called "David" and played dashingly by Guy Pearce) was more troubled than Bertie. Bertie,  in spite of his stammer, proved himself to have the stronger moral and emotional fiber. Of course, I never thought the Wallis and Edward affair to be in the least romantic. Bertie and Elizabeth are the ones with the real love story; their mutual support and courage enabled them to stay with their people in the hour of darkness.

While The King's Speech is fairly historically accurate as movies go, it was a bit odd to see Winston Churchill wandering in and out of the palace like an old family friend, cigar in hand. I suppose Churchill is the only British politicians most Americans might recognize and whom *most* have long revered. The screenplay and acting draw the viewer in so that even if someone has zero historical knowledge about the characters and events it is easy to identify with them and their trials. We are shown how bitter childhood struggles and  experiences of abuse can be prevailed over through love, grace and determination. King George's sufferings give him the humility and compassion that enable him to stand with his people, to help them and by doing so become a great monarch. Share

Inherited Design

What does one do with heirlooms and old family junk? According to a piece by Frances Schultz in the Wall Street Journal:
And here's the lovely part about making peace with a loved one's belongings: While so many of us are drawn to the new and perfect, inherited pieces have soul. Even if flawed, objects and furnishings with history have a story. They carry the energy of our affection. It radiates through the house. People can sense it when they walk through the door. We may not be conscious of it, but it's there.
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Tuesday, May 3, 2011

The Royal Wedding: Killjoys Be Gone!

I found it rather amusing how so many people on Facebook, Twitter and around the internet kept proudly proclaiming: "I don't care, I don't care, I don't care about the royal wedding....I happened to be up at 5 am and turned it on for a few minutes but I REALLY don't care. I'm an American and I'm above such medieval nonsense and besides...who cares? Have I told you that I DON'T care?" And so on and so forth. Finally, someone on Twitter said: "I am really not interested in the fact that you are not interested in the royal wedding." There is a piece on Taki's blog that expresses the sentiments of those of us who relished the festivities (even from afar) and refused to let anyone sour our enjoyment of the day.

Melanie Phillips of the Mail Online expresses it all quite eloquently, saying:
For one glorious, uplifting, joyful day it was as if the everyday world had been faded out from the video screen and another picture altogether had taken its place.

Gone were the things that grind us down, terrify us, bore us rigid or turn us off altogether. The economic crisis, war, voting reform, venal politicians and their idiotic name-calling, the endless litany of official incompetence, the vulgarity and ugliness of TV voyeurism and binge-drinking, the habitual cynicism and grey-faced indifference of the public in the face of all this: it all vanished from view....
Instead, there was quite simply an explosion of public joy at the wedding of Prince William to Kate Middleton. Britain beamed, cheered, laughed, gasped, threw its collective hat into the air and choked with emotion. And this was not merely generous-minded delight at the happiness of the new Duke and Duchess of Cambridge. It was an eruption of feeling that some would have had us believe had vanished for ever: a profound affection and support for the monarchy — and for the Britain that it embodies.

For me, as I’m sure for many others, what brought a lump to the throat was not just the poignant spectacle of Prince William, the casualty of the breakdown of his parents’ marriage, receiving his radiant bride in the very place where as a teenager he had stood by his mother’s coffin.
It was also the roar of approval that went up from the huge crowds outside Westminster Abbey when he and his bride uttered the words ‘I will'. It was the enormous cheer for the Queen as she stepped out of her car at the Abbey door. And it was the full-throated singing of the National Anthem by the throng that stretched down the Mall. Some would have us believe that it is all over for the monarchy. They paint it as the anachronistic, class-ridden and discredited residue of a country that must shed its history, traditions and very identity in the interests of multiculturalism, diversity and equality.

Last Friday showed up this claim for the unpleasant piece of wish-fulfilment that it is. For the reported million or so who turned out to line the streets, and the many millions more gulping with emotion over their TV screens, were not some ideological fantasy of social engineering but the real people of Britain. And they want what the British people have always wanted: a monarchy that reflects a collective image of themselves and of their country that they can admire.

That includes characteristics they yearn for (although maybe cannot always achieve): a happy family life, stoicism in the face of adversity, courage and selflessness, duty and sobriety, and the sense of sharing in a worthy collective national project. Only the monarchy, standing as it does above and beyond politics, can sustain this benign projection of national aspiration.....

And so the crowds were roaring their approval of a ceremony, a monarchy and a nation steeped in ancient tradition. Sure, they want to see it adapt to a changing world. They want a monarchy which at one and the same time is regal and with which they can identify. And the new Princess William gave them exactly what they craved.

Her appearance was perfectly judged: that stunning dress, demure and exquisite yet at the same time grand and traditional; her poise as to the manner born and her ordinary family background and lifestyle. What she exuded was a regal serenity; whether the result of studied artifice or natural grace, it is the quality associated with the Queen Mother and the Queen herself.

If that calm dignity continues, she will become the ‘rock’ not merely of her husband’s life but of the monarchy itself. No wonder Prince Charles reportedly said of his new daughter-in-law that the Royal Family was lucky to have her. But it wasn’t just the bride. Everything that day was perfectly judged. In a society now mired in the mediocre and the philistine, this was a spectacle of soaring beauty and splendour to lift even unknowing hearts....
...Last Friday, people in this apparently godless nation were held spellbound by a wedding ceremony which was explicitly not just religious but Christian. What was even more notable was the special prayer composed by the happy couple themselves. For in this they prayed for help to focus on the important things in life, to serve and to help the needy — all ‘in the spirit of Jesus’. This was in effect an explicit dedication of themselves to a life of service to the nation on behalf of the Christian institution of the monarchy. (Read More)

Thank you, Mrs. Phillips, my thoughts exactly! Perhaps the pageant provided by royalty does for the secular sphere what liturgy does for the realm of the spirit. It lifts us beyond ourselves and shows us all the possibilities. Share

Death of the Bogey Man

Joshua Snyder has collected some compelling posts, all worth reading. And here is a quote from Steve Sailer quoted by Serge at A Conservative Blog for Peace:
He was an official guest of the Deep State of Pakistan. They’ve been scamming us for billions of dollars for years pretending to help us chase Osama Bin Laden while they’ve been sheltering him in their equivalent of West Point, Annapolis, and Colorado Springs rolled into one. Maybe the elected leaders didn’t know, or didn’t want to know because they might end up as dead as Benazir Bhutto.
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Monday, May 2, 2011

Wellington the Hero

The Duke of Wellington
Eric Hester, a retired head master in England writes about the great Duke of Wellington who can be contrasted with Napoleon as in a fine book by Andrew Roberts, as follows:
A recent post on the noble and edifying Tea at Trianon mentioned Catholic emancipation in England.  A remarkable rôle was played by the Iron Duke, the Duke of Wellington, a Protestant of the Protestants who was Prime Minister.  He was a real hero in England as he had been at Waterloo.

Do we take heed of heroes any more?  When I was head master of a boys’ school I used to ask boys at interview who was their hero or heroine.  Often there was a long pause: saints were frequently mentioned, sometimes a boy’s father or mother which was impressive but never the Iron Duke.  Yet this was a man who ought to be revered by all Catholics.  Born in Dublin of a Protestant family, Wellington acquired the anti-Catholic prejudices of his time.  Yet his nobility and respect for others, especially his fighting men, made him the Prime Minister to grant Catholic emancipation and he was to fight a duel with an extreme Protestant who thought this was a concession to Rome too far.  Before this, he had shown remarkable respect for Catholic beliefs.  When Wellington was Commander in Chief of the British forces in Spain and Portugal, he gave orders that whenever a priest in the streets was carrying the Blessed Sacrament, British soldiers were to stand to attention and present arms.  Thus this Dublin Protestant showed more respect than does many a Catholic today. 
He had to endure obloquy for his granting of Catholic emancipation.  His reasons were not theoretical ones but practical gratitude:  he thought it an injustice that the Irishmen who had fought so bravely and well in the Peninsula and at Waterloo should not be allowed to worship God in their own way.  Again, he could give many modern Catholics a lesson about the meaning of the word “justice”.  About a third of his army was Catholic, recruited in Ireland and Scotland.  In 1829, Wellington challenged to a duel a letter writer in The Standard, Lord Winchilsea, who had berated him for his papist leanings because of his support for Catholic Emancipation.  Lord Winchilsea said that the Duke’s support for King’s College, London (being set up to counteract University College, the Godless institute in Gower Street) would make that college Catholic.  The duel took place on Battersea Fields, and Wellington’s shot grazed the arm of his antagonist who shot into the ground, probably terrified of killing the Prime Minister and hero of Waterloo.  What a more manly way duelling seems of settling quarrels than using spin doctors or paying expensive libel lawyers!
 Wellington and Napoleon are portrayed well in a fine book Napoleon and  Wellington by the eminent English historian Andrew Roberts.  It is very easy reading and is based on the double biography technique started by Sir Alan Bullock with Hitler and Stalin.  Since Roberts is so scrupulously honest, then Napoleon comes out badly.  He was vain, greedy, selfish and, in the end, ruined France.   Napoleon was a racist not just by today’s definition of that term but even by the standards of his time.  When Toussaint, a genuine popular leader in Saint-Dominique, hopefully sent Napoleon a copy of a constitution for the Island, the enraged and clearly racist Napoleon shouted: "I will not rest until I have torn the epaulettes off every nigger in the colonies."  Britain had abolished slavery in her colonies but Napoleon, wherever he could, reinstated it in the name of “liberty” and disenfranchised mulattos throughout the French colonies.  This is glossed over in many histories: whenever the words “Liberty, equality and fraternity” were proclaimed they brought with them tyranny, oppression, torture and death.  Napoleon exiled Pope Pius VII and crowned himself as emperor.  While Wellington’s family gained nothing from his elevation, Napoleon had the gall to make his own unworthy brothers actual kings. 
Wellington spoke of Napoleon with respect, “I should rather hear of the French having 40,000 extra men that that he were to command their forces” – and actually protected him in June and July 1815, as a chapter of Roberts’s book makes clear.  Napoleon gave no honour to Wellington except when he was trying to save his skin.   On the morning of the battle of Waterloo at Le Caillou farmhouse, Napoleon said to General Soult: “Because you have been beaten by Wellington, you consider him a great general.  And now I tell you that Wellington is a bad general, that the English are bad troops, and ce sera l’affaire d’un déjeuner.”  As another great English hero, Churchill, might have said, “Some affaire, some déjeuner!”  Roberts then shows a final piece of infamy from Napoleon, in his will: he left 10,000 franks to a M. Cantillon, a crazed Frenchman who had tried to assassinate Wellington.  

Wellington maintained his sense of humour as is shown in the following from a dispatch that Wellington sent in 1812, responding to a demand from the bureaucratic War Office in Whitehall, London,  for a full inventory: 
Each item and every farthing has been accounted for, with two regrettable exceptions for which I crave your indulgence.  Unfortunately, the sum of 1s 9d remains unaccounted for in one battalion’s petty cash and there has been a hideous confusion as to the number of jars of raspberry jam issued to one cavalry regiment during a sandstorm in Western Spain.  This reprehensible carelessness may be related to the pressure of the circumstances since we are at war with France a fact which may come as a bit of a surprise to you gentlemen in Whitehall.
King George IV’s Queen, Caroline, was not all that she should have been and the King was about to divorce her for her infidelities but she was pretty and the crowds liked her.   She was a kind of Princess Diana figure of her day.  A London mob, rioting in favor of Queen Caroline, stopped Wellington’s coach and asked him if he supported Queen Caroline; the Duke replied, "Well, gentlemen, since you will have it so - 'God save the Queen!' - and may all your wives resemble her."

Teachers, might like to take Wellington as a caution against writing boys, or girls, off at an early age.  At Sandhurst,  where British Army Officers are trained, there used to be a framed document asking the reader to read that side first: on it  there was a school report of a boy described as lazy, stupid and feckless who would never make anything.  When one turns the document over, over all is explained: “that was written at Eton about Arthur Wellesley, subsequently  Duke of Wellington, commander in Chief of the forces against Napoleon, hero of Waterloo, Prime Minister of Britain, Chancellor of Oxford University etc, etc.”  Wellington, like Churchill, did not do much at school.

The last paragraph of Roberts’s book is a sad and chilling one as he comments on the present day.
Napoleon’s programme, of a politically united Europe controlled by a centralized (French-led) bureaucracy, of careers open to talent and of a written body of laws, has defeated Wellington’s assumptions of British sovereign independence, class distinctions and the supremacy of English common law based upon established, sometimes ancient, precedent.  ‘I wished to found a European system, a European code of laws, a European judiciary,’ wrote Napoleon on St Helena.  ‘There would be one people in Europe.’  There is some irony in the fact that Waterloo was fought a mere twelve miles from Brussels, the capital of today’s European Union.  For, although Wellington won the battle, it is Napoleon’s dream that is coming true.
We gave them an inch and they have taken a kilometre. 

Tourists to London can visit Apsley House, Hyde Park Corner, Wellington’s house and now a national museum under the jurisdiction of the Victoria & Albert Museum.  As well as many items of Wellingtonian memorabilia, there is a marvellous art collection.  Grateful Spaniards gave their liberator pictures by the local lads such as Velasquez, Murillo and Goya who painted the Duke himself.  When shall we see his like again?
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