The other day it occurred to me to wonder where Marie Antoinette was buried. “Here and there,” I imagined. So I looked it up. Turns out it was here and there. First here, then there.
Originally her various segments were gathered up and tossed into a mass grave, but a few decades later someone thought better of it and pulled her out of oblivion and buried her properly, with attribution. Then it occurred to me to wonder what got everyone so ticked off at her in the first place. You do not want to tick off the French people when they’re in a mood. It isn’t all cheese and goose liver over there.
She was born into Austrian royalty, and, like all good celebrities, didn’t bother with a last name. Back in those days entire countries tried to patch things up with each other by marrying off their fancy people, and Marie’s parents had sixteen kids, which should have ensured peace throughout Europe. Marie was pencilled in for marriage to the French dauphin when she was eleven, and four years later she was married by proxy. Standing in for the groom was her brother the Archduke Ferdinand, who had to take time out from plotting how to live long enough to start World War I. The wedded couple met for the first time a few weeks later and then underwent what is referred to as a “ritual bedding,” but it didn’t take, and the marriage was not consummated for another seven years. Apparently it was just a matter of a lack of enthusiasm, and after the intervention of Marie’s oldest brother, who made some suggestions and got the balls rolling, they began to produce a few children.
Marie was young and cute and popular with the people but gradually her reputation suffered. She was suspected of having a lover, one or two of whom would have been easy enough to conceal under one of the mile-wide skirts that were all the rage at the time; people will talk. But then when she ushered in a whole new fashion of narrower dress, she caught hell for that, too. When a woman starts to get up in the world and have ideas of her own, the world is going to try to bring her down.
Well, once you get accused of being too elitist, which is pretty much par for the course when you’re royalty, it’s all downhill. She had her own golden palace and she kept her own private server in there, lots of them in fact, and no one would shut up about that. And the newspapers and pamphlets of the day were full of tales and accusations: orgies, murder, incest, and what-have-you, and everybody believed it and spread it around even though it wasn’t true. They just started making shit up, like that famous “let them eat cake” line, which she didn’t even say, but people will believe absolutely anything if it conforms to their preconceived notions. She tried to boost her numbers by commissioning paintings of herself being all maternal with her children but no one was having it. It was all too late.
Also? The Royals and the Catholic Church didn’t pay any taxes. Just the little people, and they started to notice.
There’s always trouble when some people have all the money and everyone else starts to notice. At least if you’re royalty. It’s pretty clear to everyone that you didn’t do anything to earn all that dough. For some reason, though, these days people don’t always come to the same conclusion about other super wealthy people, even if they clearly have more than anyone can be said to have earned. Even if they started out life with a slab of cash and invested it in baroque financial instruments involving your pension or your neighbor’s mortgage and never chipped a manicured nail, or they drove a company into the ground and sold off the good bits for themselves, for some reason hard-working people will admire them and think they must deserve everything they have.
Maybe if we just required them all to wear ermine and tiaras, we could take that handbasket we’re riding in and collect a few severed heads.
I see what you did there.
Both of you are cleverer than my heat-addled brain can muster this morning. Thank you.
BUT if you can keep your head while all around are losing theirs…
Well, that is the only good reason for royalty that I've ever heard, but only if we make them easily identifiable, as you suggest. Although, I suppose we still wouldn't be allowed to kill them off.
Not unless you're French. Or a mob. If you're a mob, everybody stand back.
Mwahahahaha! With a French accent, of course. Didn't know Marie had her own private server…no wonder she lost her head.
The whole historical moment still gives me the willies. Mobs scare me.
As we said at afternoon circle when taking off our long opera gloves…. "OO lala"
No you di'nt.
You can probably guess what kind of visions I have of Trump's head when I see its ugly visage and hear its excruciating voice.
All we need is the basket.
Some interesting stuff written about the dear girl, a friend did one for her doc dissertation. Some take a very different approach to the kid. Who knows, eh?
I read it was near zero in Portland a couple days ago, the coldest since my last winter there, in '72. We had a minus one at our house out near Sandy.
Here, Montana, most nights have been at least 10 to 18 below. It's the usual. It got up to 12 today, people were frolicking in the streets.
I'll be north of you 150 miles next week, letting the cardio guys do unspeakable things.
I'd be right interested in other takes. Mine is a dilettante's approach. But WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON WITH YOUR HEART?
coronary disease, couple stents two years ago, probably need more. It's weird to be on the other side of the table during the cath procedure, I'll tell you.
"Originally her various segments were gathered up and tossed into a mass grave, but a few decades later someone thought better of it and pulled her out of oblivion and buried her properly,"
Being various segments in a mass grave, how can they be sure what they pulled out and reburied was all her and not only some of her and bits of other people?
Mine is a minority opinion, I think, but I don't think it matters. What matters is what people think is going on. (This does not apply to climate change and other realities. This is just for death rituals.)
"One Way For the Little People to Get Ahead". I see what's going on……..a head! Muwhahahaha!
Dis jus' brings out de evil in us, no?
A whole post without mention of poop? At least I found it in the comments. Merde. Ha!
Sometimes we buries it.
Your bloggers are all too witty for me. But at least you lifted my spirits for the moment…until Friday.
I don't have a Friday on my calendar.
Time to bring back the guillotine and put it to good use, not just halving watermelons.
I guess it was invented to be humane…but ish.
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