Showing posts with label pastoral. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pastoral. Show all posts

Monday, June 16, 2014

pastoral - 4. the skullcap of innocent xv

by quinette de quieroz

illustrated by danny delacroix and eddie el greco

editorial consultant: Prof. Dan Leo

click here for previous chapter of pastoral

click here to begin pastoral

click here to begin the 14th princess






it was almost dinner time.

quinette had not managed to write quite a full page during the day. with a sigh, she got up from the typewriter and looked out the window.

it was dull and grey outside, with the leaves waving listlessly in the wind, on the not quite bare trees .

sabine was walking outside. she was accompanied by judy, one of the guards who had no "regular" princess but rotated in fill-in shifts.

judy was talking animatedly and waving her hands. sabine did not seem to be paying her the strictest attention.


the door opened behind quinette, and olga entered. quinette had been expecting her as it was the beginning of her shift. olga usually came on just before dinner and stayed through the night and early morning. quinette usually stayed awake until around midnight and the two of them spent the time talking and praying and studying the bible.

then when quinette woke up in the morning they prayed before going down to breakfast.

"good afternoon, sister," olga greeted quinette.

"good evening to you, sister." quinette managed a smile.

"you don't look too cheery this evening."


"oh, i'm just tired." quinette turned from the window and sat back down at the desk.

"a good dinner will fix you right up."

"i don't really feel like eating. i'll order something for you if you want." quinette was a light eater but often ordered or brought food back to the room, and olga, who had a very healthy appetite, ate it.

"nonsense. you have to keep your strength up, sister." olga sat down on the bed. "but before we go down, i have some interesting news for you. i think you will be cheered by it."

"oh. and what might that be?"


"i've been talking with some of the other guards. usually when we are on the bus."

quinette nodded. "and?"

"we get to talking about how far along the different girls are getting writing their books."

"oh!" quinette looked up. "is that allowed?"

"it's not not allowed."

"are you sure?"

"i talk to monika on the bus. she and zelda asked helga about it and she said it was all right. as long as you don't make a big deal out of it."


quinette did not look completely convinced. "so, what did you find out?"

"that no one seems to be far behind or far ahead. so there is no reason to be afraid you are falling behind."

"yes," quinette answered slowly. "i suppose that is good. but they are not supposed to be based on speed. i suppose it is good that i am not behind." and then, more animatedly. "thank you for finding that out."

"it was my pleasure, sister. but i have another point to make - one that i have been giving some thought to."


"oh?"

"since you are not falling behind, i think this may be a good time to take a new tack in the book."

quinette's eyes widened. "you mean start all over!"

"oh, no, no," olga laughed. "i didn't mean that. but look here, sister, you know i have been reading this stendhal person you are supposed to be imitating."

"yes," sighed quinette, "so have i." she hesitated. "one book, the red and the black, was sort of interesting, but the rest -"


"yes, dull stuff. i bet the other girls did not get models half so dull."

"maybe , but what can i do? the rules are the rules."

"i know, but look here - i have thought about it and prayed a on it, and here is what i think -"

"yes?"

"the style only counts for part of what you will be judged on. i think we - you - should keep the background of a stendhal book, but otherwise just write the most thundering good story we can. i am sure the judges don't really want to be bored and might like something they can actually read."

quinette hesitated. "well, if you think it is a good idea -". she made a face. "i guess we might not have anything to lose."

"i say we do it," olga replied confidently. "after all, the bible is the word of the lord, but it is also a rollicking good yarn."

***


from lieutenant jean-pierre z--------- of the ------th hussars, to sergeant jean d-----, of the ---------th replacement regiment.

my dear d--------,

i hope to find you alive. i have no news. i have not had a great deal of success with my new commission as a recruiting officer, and am considering resigning it and returning to the hussars before i find myself brought up on charges of abusing my new position. i have indeed had a few fellows sign up, and sent them on their way, but who knows if they ever joined their units. or what the units did with them if they ever got there. what training could they give them in all this chaos?

well - i do not mean to either complain, or to re-fight the war. let me know if you receive this, and i will send more news if there is any to send.

meanwhile, my position here is almost too comfortable. i have little to do except eat , sleep, and flirt (alas, no more!) with some agreeable if haughty females. i fear a violent change of fortune, as nature's inevitable revenge…

yours,

z-------------.

***


from sergeant jean d------------, of the ----------th replacement regiment, to lieutenant jean-pierre z---------- of the -----------th hussars.

my dear z------------,

i am gratified to find you alive and well, as for some reason (a premonition, a dream?) i feared the worst. i see a smile on your lips - no, i have not consulted any fortune tellers! but let me be brief - i encourage you by all means to resign your duty as a recruiting officer - and if expedient, to give up your commission altogether. surely, given his recent successes, our friend the corsican can spare you - especially as he has been providing you with such humble duty lately!

in any case i beg you to join me here as soon as you are able. as i have found a splendid opportunity, if not for fame, glory, and indefinite wealth, at least for a brief taste of the latter. have you ever heard of the dagger of francisco borgia? or the skullcap of pope innocent xv? surely, you are thinking, no doubt francesco borgia had a dagger, and the worthy innocent xv more than one cap, but what are they to me? what, indeed? i say no more, i have either piqued your curiosity or not.

i can be found, for the next month at least, at the hotel of the count of o------------, in the plaza of dominoes, here in milan. please let me know, if you can, if you plan to join me.


i forgot to mention, i have in fact, left the army, with no fuss. i simply expressed my wish to do so, and sergeant-major a--------------- (surely you remember him) tugged at his moustache and told me to be on my way, without even consulting a superior officer! hopefully you will l have no more trouble than i.

yours,

d---------------

***

from lieutenant jean-pierre z--------- of the ------th hussars, to lieutenant narcissi de y--------, of the --------- hussars.


my dear y------------.

i hope you are still well. i do not mean to trouble you so soon after my recent letter, but i could not forbear telling you of the most amusing missive i have just received from our old friend d------------, from toulouse, lately of the replacement regiment. you remember, i am sure, how much drollery we extracted from d-----------'s childish imagination, which, in the phrase of gibbon, "listened with eager credulity to every impostor who flattered his prejudices by a tale of wonders". it seems that d------------ has indeed been listening to some tales of wonder, particularly to some tales of wondrous objects, of the type so familiar, both to military campfires and beggars' alehouses. whether the ones in question have magical properties, or are expected to bring fabulous sums for their ransom, d------------ did not elaborate.

i suspect the latter - in such tales there is always some fabulously wealthy (but strangely unknown) personage who will sell his kingdom for a glimpse of the fabulous object… the fabulous object, of course, is always easily concealed in a knapsack or under a cloak…


bur perhaps d----------- has sent you the same intelligence! so i will only add that d--------- informs me that he has been released from the army, without so much as a bye-your-leave. i hear conflicting reports. on the one hand, that peace will descend, and all rascals under arms will be free to wander away to their own rascality. on the other, that huge campaigns and battles are planned, and none can be spared. you probably know for certain no more than, but what are you hearing?

yours,

z------------------

***


from esme, comtesse de j---------------, to daphne, comtesse de v-----------,care of the duke of o--------------

my dearest,

i hope i find you well. i know you fled to our friend the duke's to forego the hazards of war. in which case you probably imagine my poor self to be barricaded in my apartments, and writing this letter by the paltriest of candles as artillery thunders all around me. for better or worse, nothing could be further from the reality. i begin to think that war is even more of a bore than peace…

but, my dear, i am not writing to tell you a sad story. rather, to tell you the most amusing story i heard the other night at a sort of carnival, held to celebrate our liberation by the almighty and gallant corsican… tell me, have you ever heard of the skullcap of pope innocent xv…


(to be continued)



Sunday, July 22, 2012

pastoral - 3. the escape

by quinette de quieroz

illustrated by roy dismas and rhoda penmarq

special thanks to Prof. Dan Leo for his editing efforts

click here to begin pastoral

click here to begin the 14th princess











from renaldo, marquis of y----------, to daphne, countess of v--------------:

my dearest friend -
the delight i feel on hearing from you is sorely tempered by the distress i feel on your behalf. and on poor colin's and clovis's behalf! i recall many happy hours spent with them. please assure them, and the other swains and shepherdesses, of my most heartfelt sympathies.

sincerely,

your friend,

renaldo.

p s inspired by their plight, i was moved to compose this attempt at verse in a centuries old tradition. i fear we may be entering a new dark age, in which such civilized amusements are no longer even attempted, and i lay this humble sprig upon the pyre of art and beauty.

sunset: a pastoral



see how the little bumblebee
flits from flower to flower
all too unsuspecting
this is his final hour

before the fleecy cloud above
has crossed the placid sun
our industrious little friend
his labors will have done

ah colin! as you pipe your tune
cast your wandering eye
upon your humblest companions
beneath the cerulean sky

and sigh to know
and sigh to sing
the pitiless truth
the setting sun will bring




*


from daphne, countess of v--------------, to renaldo, marquis of y-------------- :



my dear friend,
thank you so much for your lovely verses and the sentiments that produced them. i would have shared them with poor colin and clovis, but alas - the poor boys have seen fit to flee the area, rather than submit to the martial embrace of the recruiting sergeant - the fellow i wrote of before. they came to me the morning after the night i described to you, to bid me farewell, and of course, they were nowise loath to beg a few coins from me, as well a few handkerchiefs and other trinkets i had in my pockets. i pointed out that possession of such things was as likely to get them hanged as thieves as do them much good as barter, but they persisted so piteously that i relented, and waved then on their way - wherever that may be.



i do not believe either of them has ever been out of the valley in their lives, and they would seem to be easy pickings as wandering innocents even in times of peace... i say no more. good luck to them, and of course i will miss them both.



on the afternoon of that same day, i encountered the fearsome soldier again in the drawing room of the duke. i could not forebear twitting him about the defection of colin and clovis - and others? - omitting any mention of providing them with funds - but he seemed to find more amusement than frustration in the situation. he exhibits little - in fact no - sympathy for the victims and intended victims of his depredations , at the same time he makes no pretense of being a firebreather or anxious to return to the toils of war, but is openly content to relax on the duke's cushions and drink the duke's wine and brandy. i inquired as to the success of his enterprise:

... and so, sir, you have found enough children to feed into the maw of mars to justify your enterprise?

perhaps, madam. that is for my superiors to say - assuming that i can find them again, or they me.



ah! do i understand then, that you do not even know where to deliver your captives?

i know where i am supposed to deliver them. whether i find anyone there to deliver them to - that is the fortune of war.

this war - it seems a very inexact science. how much more satisfactory would it not be to reap the predictable fruits of peace.





oh, it is not so inexact as that. i was speaking generally. in the present circumstances i fully expect to find my battalion. if we were meeting more resistance... (he shrugged, and helped himself to more wine)

so you would welcome more resistance?

i do not welcome anything, except sitting on this excellently soft divan, sipping this noble wine, and listening to the music of your voice, madam.



not exactly the sentiments of a hector or an achilles, sir. perhaps you should follow after colin and clovis, and take up the trade of wandering minstrel.

is that what they told you they were going to do? ha, ha! wandering chicken thieves, more like it. i hope you gave them enough to get a few miles down the road before being impressed or hanged.

why, sir, i would never dare to defy the noble conqueror by abetting such behavior.
but i can not help but hope the poor things do not come to too much grief.

oh i wish them no harm myself, madam. no harm at all ...

at this point he lapsed into a moody silence. i had expected him to take up the charge of his previous attempts at gallantry, but instead he finished his glass, stood up abruptly, made some excuses about writing letters, took his leave of our host, and exited. well! an unpolished fellow, but considering the tedium i find myself wilting in, his company was not completely without amusement of a sort.



i will write more later, if anything worth writing about transpires...


4. the skullcap of innocent xv




Saturday, March 10, 2012

pastoral - 2. the recruiting officer

by quinette de quieroz

illustrated by roy dismas and rhoda penmarq

special thanks to Prof. Dan Leo for his editing efforts

click here to begin pastoral

click here to begin the 14th princess







from daphne, countess of v----------, to renaldo, marquis of y------------ :




no sooner had i posted my last missive to you, my dear friend, than i immediately regretted my decision to forego the marquise of l...............'s invitation to whist. for, headache or no, what was i to do for the rest of the evening? i took up madame de p-------'s new novel, which i had begun reading in the coach on my journey here. but whereas on the journey i had found it a welcome distraction from the bouncing of the carriage, on my sofa i found it merely tedious. the moon, shining placidly through my window,



seemed to mock the transports of high-minded love of madame de p----------'s most vociferous heroine, and i found myself staring at the moon - and at my feet. ah! how tiresome life is! why can we never find such lovers , such delicious adventures as exist in the pages of romances? i feel i am boring you, as much as i bore myself. perhaps i shall find the energy to put my shoes on - yes, my friend, put my own shoes on, without even summoning my new little maid - have i described my new maid? the laziest little wretch in the world, whom i am obliged to abuse in the worst way, to get her to do anything at all - i, the most easygoing person in the world. right now she is sleeping. easier to let her sleep, than to attempt to rouse her.



well - i shall go for a walk in the moonlight. when i return, i shall decide whether i have anything of enough interest to you to continue and actually post this letter



(later)

a curious encounter! i managed to get my own shoes on - quite nicely, if i say so myself - but i was not up to the task of putting my own hair up, so throwing on my oldest cloak, i covered my head with a shawl - like a gypsy! - and descended the stair - surely you remember the winding stair of my cottage here - and arrived at the garden. i was gratified to be able to see, in the moonlight, that my dear colin - no doubt assisted by his faithful friend clovis - had kept the garden up quite nicely. you smile, my dear friend - i do not mean it looked like a setting around a gazebo at versailles or fontainebleu - but it had a rustic charm - and no nasty weeds or roots to trip over - and looked quite lovely in the moonlight - what more can we ask for in the evil world, i ask you? so i was immediately put into a good mood and was strolling in the darkness quite contentedly when suddenly -



a huge dark form rose up before me! for a moment i thought it was some dreadful beast wandered down from the mountainside - but i then i saw the silhouette raise what was clearly a cigar to its mouth, and on coming closer i beheld a huge loutish fellow in what was apparently intended to be some sort of military garb, though far from the most smartly cut.

if i was a bit disconcerted by his sudden appearance, he seemed not the least surprised by mine, but gazed down on me - have i mentioned that he was a great towering brute? - with the solemnity of a bear beholding a butterfly. he turned his shaggy head away from me just enough to avoid blowing his cigar smoke in my face.



finally as close to him as i was going to come, i saw that he was not completely hideous - if someone had taken a washcloth to him and found him a tailor. i bid him a good evening. he responded with a crude attempt at gallantry that i will not record on this page - much as i know you, my insolent friend, find amusement in such things. i turned his "pretty compliment" aside, without apparently, wounding his sensibilities or disturbing his composure, and suddenly realized who he must be.

"ah, you most be the officer from general b-----------'s army, here to disturb the eternal peace of this happy valley."



"not at all, madam, not at all. to whom have i the honor of speaking, by the way?"

"i am the comtesse de v----------. these grounds you are taking your ease on belong to me."

"ah, a comtesse! how rude of me to have spoken so rudely to a comtesse. and how gracious of the comtesse not to threaten me with a flogging, eh?"

"here in the happy valley we attempt to avoid all unpleasantness."



"how pleasant."

"and you, sir, are - "

"just as you surmised, madam, i am lieutenant z--------, of the ----th hussars of the army of the revolution. i am afraid i have no other title or recommendation." (have i mentioned that the fellow was speaking french, but of a more barbarous sort that i had ever heard from the most rustic servant.)

"oh," i replied," no matter how many times i have had it explained to me, i can never remember the differences between a hussar, or a dragoon, or a cuirassier, and all that."



"no matter. in any case i am here in the humble office of a recruiting officer."

"but thirsting, no doubt, to return to the field of battle."

he laughed good-naturedly at this. "time enough for that. no, i find the happy valley here quite to my liking. tell me, comtesse, why are you walking out here all alone, with a shawl around your head like a camp follower?"

"here in the valley, we avoid ceremony almost as much as unpleasantness."



"indeed. so it is liberty hall, eh? everything is permitted?"

"not quite everything."

" you say you own these grounds. tell me, do you still own anything else, or have you fled the revolution with the clothes on your back?"




what effrontery! i almost slapped him. any thought that i had that he could even begin to impersonate a gentleman vanished. "thank you, but i am as much in possession of my fortune as i am of my wits."

"ah." he gazed at me as if i were a horse he had just been assured had nothing wrong with its left foreleg.

i could not help adding, "in fact - i - actually my factotum, have even made some investments which have turned out quite well."

"oh, i see. no doubt next you will tell me that you are a special friend of m de barras himself. "

"i am afraid i do not have the honor of any acquaintance with that worthy personage."

he fell silent, puffing on his cigar, and i took the opportunity to upbraid him.



"i understand you are here to dragoon the likes of my poor shepherds and gardeners, my colins and clovises, into your army. i must tell you i think this is pure folly, as the poor lads are not bred for such pursuits but for the arts of peace."

he threw back his head and brayed like a donkey. "haw, haw, haw! so that is what you are doing out here - you came out to console poor colin and clovis! haw, haw, haw!"

and then the brute committed the final, unforgivable act - he yawned in my face.




3. the escape




Saturday, February 18, 2012

pastoral - 1. the valley

click here to begin the 14th princess








little quinette was in the last seat on the right. "pick for me, please, miss."

"non-violent. and your author is stendhal."

"that's a pretty broad category," said dorine. "that's another pick i wouldn't mind."

"who are you, the roving commentator?" rosalind asked her. "is anybody asking for your opinions?

"i'll say whatever i please, thank you very much."






pastoral

by quinette de quieroz

illustrated by rhoda penmarq

special thanks to Prof. Dan Leo for his editing efforts









the valley of o---------- had long been reputed to be the most peaceful in italy. for centuries its lack of natural wealth and its remoteness kept it from being fought over by princes, and its temperate climate - hardly subject to storms or severe winters - made it a favorite retreat of those same princes and their wealthy supporters, when they sought brief respite from the turmoils and dangers of power. indeed, the valley became in effect a neutral area where arms were laid down, quarrels set aside, and the fiercest enemies - even those embroiled in blood feuds of millennial duration - could side by side enjoy what the poet calls "the beautiful wine of peace."



the only dwellings in the valley, besides the castle and surrounding buildings belonging to the ancient duchy of o----------, were the country retreats of the aforementioned potentates, and the humble huts, scattered about the countryside, of the few shepherds and herdsmen who survived on the barren hills and plains. these herders plied their ancient craft almost year round, and for centuries it had been the chief delight, of the owners of the country estates, when taking their ease in the valley,



to observe from their verandahs and balconies the wanderings and frolickings of these unencumbered ones, and to compose poems and songs based on their observations.

this account, i am sure, brings a smile to the lips of the reader, accustomed as he or she may be to the frenzy of the modern world.

in any case, everything changed with the coming of the corsican.

******


from daphne, countess of v----------, to renaldo, marquis of y------------ :




i am safely ensconced in my rustic garden, my dear friend ... but for how long! you may perhaps be surprised to hear from me so soon after my arrival, when i have hardly had time to observe the latest follies of my distinguished neighbors. but change is in the air! the dust had hardly settled around the wheels of my carriage, and i had barely stepped down from it, than clovis, the rustic swain i pay to keep birds and animals and hopefully, brigands from my humble little house, rushed upon me, and in a torrent of words in his uncouth dialect , informed me of the basic outline of the facts i now propose to acquaint you with in a more coherent fashion...



it seems that mars has indeed invaded the domain of venus, at least, at this point, to tread on its toes, if not to fly in its face. even you, my dear friend, who so deliberately profess disinterest and annoyance in anything so much as hinting at politics and war, must be aware of the upheavals in the barbaric western hinterlands of the continent, culminating in the invasion of the ancient lands of empire by the savages from beyond the mountains. of course, some of our dearest and most refined friends have long had the fairest portions of their dominions among these uncouth ones - thinking - alas! - that they had tamed them.... (i blot a tear from my pages)... well, i see even at this distance that i am boring you.



in a word, recruiting parties from the corsican's army have invaded the valley and proposed carrying off our lovely shepherds and lusty swineherds to share in the glory in their ever expanding conquests. from what i can gather from poor clovis's barely coherent account - and his incoherence distresses me doubly, as i had taken such pains on my previous visits, to try to give him a veneer of civilized behavior - the duke of o---------- has so far resisted the efforts of the recruiter, with such poor means as he has at his disposal. i shall call on the duke tomorrow, to get a clearer understanding - and i greatly fear, perhaps news of such dreadful import that what i have already heard will seem but a joke...



this has given me a dreadful headache. i have so far presumed on the marquise of l--------'s friendship to decline her invitation to play whist this evening.

i shall write when i have more news. please, my dear, i implore you, write to me, even if you have nothing to say. no one can say nothing more prettily than you, when you have a mind to do so. and i need to hear something pretty.

until then,

your dearest friend,

v-----------

*******




2. the recruiting officer