Saturday, March 31, 2012

Scandalous Women Radio: Hortense de Beauharnais, Queen of Holland


Scandalous Women is pleased to welcome author Lauren Willig this week to talk about the scandalous life of Hortense de Beauharnais (1783-1837). The only daughter of the infamous Josephine and step-daughter to Napoleon, Hortense was married off to his brother Louis and made Queen of Holland. But she was in love with another man, the Comte de Flahaut, rumored to be the illegitimate son of Talleyrand. During the Hundred Days, her support of her step-father meant that she was banished from France. She died at the age of 54 in 1837. She never lived to see her son Napoleon become the Emperor of the French as Napoleon III.

Please tune in to Scandalous Women, tomorrow, April 1 at a special time, 6:00 p.m.

A native of New York City, Lauren Willig has been writing romances ever since she got her hands on her first romance novel at the age of six. Three years later, she sent her first novel off to a publishing house—all three hundred hand-written pages. They sent it back. Undaunted, Lauren has continued to generate large piles of paper and walk in front of taxis while thinking about plot ideas.

After thirteen years at an all girls school (explains the romance novels, doesn’t it?), Lauren set off for Yale and co-education, where she read lots of Shakespeare, wrote sonnet sequences when she was supposed to be doing her science requirement, and lived in a Gothic fortress complete with leaded windows and gargoyles. After college, she decided she really hadn’t had enough school yet, and headed off to that crimson place in Cambridge, Massachusetts for a degree in English history. Like her modern heroine, she spent a year doing dissertation research in London, tramping back and forth between the British Library and the Public Records Office, reading lots of British chick lit, and eating far too many Sainsbury’s frozen dinners.

By a strange quirk of fate, Lauren signed her first book contract during her first month of law school. She finished writing "Pink Carnation" during her 1L year, scribbled "Black Tulip" her 2L year, and struggled through "Emerald Ring" as a weary and jaded 3L. After three years of taking useful and practical classes like “Law in Ancient Athens” and “The Globalization of the Modern Legal Consciousness”, Lauren received her J.D. magna cum laude from Harvard Law School. For a year and a half, she practiced as a litigation associate at a large New York law firm. But having attained the lofty heights of second year associate, she decided that book deadlines and doc review didn't mix and departed the law for a new adventure in full time writerdom.

Thursday, March 29, 2012

GAUTHIER ET GAINEY FLUSHÉS DANS LA CUVETTE DE MERDE DU CH...


Pierre Gauthier disait avoir un plan pour redresser les CHaudrons de Mourial dès la saison prochaine. Du moins c'est ce qu'il tentait de faire croire à tout le monde. En un an, arguait-il, un club peut transformer une situation difficile en situation positive. Aussi rapidement que Randy Cunneyworth peut apprendre le français, aurait-il pu ajouter... Mais voilà, Gauthier a fini de faire croire n'importe quoi aux actionnaires, aux journaliCHeux et aux fefans avaleurs de couleuvres: le président du CHiendent, Geoff Molson, l'a foutu à la porte ce matin. Bob Gainey, le comparse de Gauthier qui a démoli le torCHon avec lui, a subi le même sort : flushé dans la cuvette de merde moronréalaise. Leur règne aura duré neuf ans : un exploit de durabilité étant donné la quantité astronomique de gaffes qu'ils ont commises à eux deux. Les deux dirigeants incompétents ont pu faire illusion grâce à leur air bête et en parlant le moins possible à la presse. Un peu beaucoup comme Jacques Martin, Gainey parlait peu aux médias et quand il le faisait c'était pour rien dire. Gauthier lui, s'exprimait le moins possible et d'une façon qui n'admettait guère de réplique. Comme s'il était certain d'avoir toujours raison. Comme s'il était Dieu le Père. Avec lui en poste, les journalisssssssses ont mangé leur pain noir. C'est pourquoi ils applaudissent tellement son départ. Le remplaçant du tyran fournira-t-il de la meilleure copie aux scribes ? Ça reste à voir, mais ce devrait être difficile de faire pire...


En dernière analyse, les bancs vides aux matchs des Canailliens, les baisses de vente de bière, de chandails et de petits fefanions auront aussi pesé dans la balance du congédiement des patrons hockey de la CHiasse. On ramène le dinosaure Serge Savard pour aider à choisir leurs successeurs. On loue sa sagesse, son sang froid, son bon jugement. N'est-ce pas le même individu qui a déjà été congédié comme directeur-général de la CHnoutte ? Et celui qui a été condamné pour ivresse au volant en septembre 2004 ? Beau jugement, en effet ! Ça fait une éternité qu'il a perdu le "beat" des affaires dans la LNH. Sait-il vraiment ce que ça prend pour diriger de nos jours dans le hockey professionnel ? Mais dans le fond, qu'est-ce que ça change ? Peu importe qui dirigera le Caca, du moins à court et à moyen terme, il est condamné à échouer. Parce que les bons agents libres ne veulent pas jouer dans le bidonville moronréalaid, parce que les jeunes repêchés par la CHarogne sont plus souvent qu'autrement mal choisis ou "gaspillés", et que les fefans et les journalistes bipolaires de la métropauvre exercent une trop grande pression sur les dirigeants et les joueurs de la CHiure. Pour un bon joueur de hockey qui gagne des millions de dollars par année, pourquoi s'en aller dans cet asile où vous n'êtes jamais certain si un journaliste ne se cache pas dans votre placard (rappelez-vous le cas José Théodore), ou si des fefans colons ne viendront pas se coller le nez sur la vitre de votre fenêtre de salon ?



Chose certaine, étant donné le bourbier dans lequel se trouve présentement le club, mieux vaudrait trouver de gros noms pour remplacer Gauthier et Cunneyworth. Les fefans veulent des anciens du Cacad'CHien qui ont déjà gagné la Coupe Stanley à Mourial ou, du moins, qui y ont connu du succès. À part Patrick Roy et Vincent Damphousse, il n'y a guère de candidats qui correspondent à ce profil. Mais ils n'ont pas d'expérience comme DG ou entraîneur au niveau de la LNH. Peu importe, pourvu qu'ils puissent à leur tour faire illusion avant que l'on découvre qu'ils ne pourront pas non plus faire de miracles. Une roue qui tourne et qui revient toujours au point de départ. Un éternel recommencement futile. L'avantage pour les nouveaux venus aux postes de direction, c'est que, sur la patinoire, le torCHon ne peut pas descendre plus bas. Même une amélioration modeste au classement sera vu positivement. Mais il faudra plus que ça pour satisfaire les fefans impatients. Ça prendra de bons résultats rapidement. Autant demander la lune...et savoir que la lune de miel se terminera vitement par...un autre divorce !

Tuesday, March 27, 2012

Fascinating Women: Edith Minturn Stokes


The paintings of John Singer Sargent have gone in and out of fashion over the years. I, for one, am an unrepentant Sargentaholic! One of my favorite things to do is to go to the American Wing at The Metropolitan Museum of Art to visit my two favorite paintings of his, Madame X, and this portrait of Mrs. I.N. Phelps Stokes, also known as Edith Minturn Stokes. What do I love about this painting? Where do I start! I love the vitality of the subject, she just glows with health and energy. And then the slight smile on her face.  She looks fresh and alive and most of all modern. Even her outfit reflects her independence, it's as if she's game for anything.  Love the hands on the hips!

Edie's brother Robert once described her as 'fierce.' As a toddler, one of the games that she liked to play was to try and escape the parasol her mother held over her on the beach, running shrieking to the waves. 30 years old when this portrait was painted, she'd already had a bit of notoriety when the sculptor Daniel Chester French sculpted her for Chicago's Columbian Exposition as the face of the Republic.


The portrait was a wedding present from a family friend, James Scrimser. The couple had been on an extended honeymoon in Paris when they decided to visit London to have the portrait done. It was 1897, the year of Queen Victoria's Jubilee. According to Jean Zimmerman's new mini-biography about Edith and her husband Isaac Newton Phelps Stokes entitled Love Fiercely, A Gilded Age Romance (Hougton Mifflin 2012), Edith initially wore a blue evening gown for her portrait. But after five weeks of sittings, Sargent wasn't satisfied with the painting so he scrapped it. It wasn't until Edith and her husband showed up at Sargent's studio in Chelsea in London after walking across the city that he knew how he wanted to paint her, in her every day clothes. When the painting was first exhibited, Edith's outfit caused comment. Her simple shirtwaist and skirt, mannish jacket and tie, plus the straw boater sitting on her hip reflected a more modern woman, one who rode a bicycle, possibly worked for a living as a teacher or a journalist.

One of the many things that I love about the painting is the fact that her husband stands behind her, almost as an afterthought (Sargent had initially thought of painting a Great Dane standing beside her). He stands with his arms folded, in the shadows. It's clear from the painting that Edith is the more extroverted partner in the marriage, and that her husband is quite happy and even a little amused to even be in the painting.  Perhaps he was just amazed that he'd finally gotten Edith to marry him!

Both Edie and her husband Newton were contemporaries of Edith Wharton. In fact they could have stepped out of the pages of one of her novels. Theirs was a world filled with balls, mansions, summer 'cottages' and European vacatons. Both came from old money, at one time Newton's grandfather Anson owned most of the Murray Hill neighborhood in New York. The house he grew up in now houses the Morgan Library.  Edith's paternal grandfather built the world's fastest clipper ship. Her maternal ancestors were equally illustrious. Her Josephine Shaw Lowell was involved with the settlement movement in New York, and her uncle was Robert Gould Shaw who led the 54th Massachusetts regiment depicted in the film Glory. The couple, both born in 1867, grew up together on Staten Island where the Minturns and the Stokes had homes before the hoi polloi moved in and made it unfashionable. Edith's father Robert suffered a reversal of fortune briefly, but luckily for Edith she was spared Lily Bart's fate.  Although her debut was much simpler than the usual debutantes, in a few years, the Minturn fortunes had been restored.
Both Edith and Newton were 28 when they got married in 1895. After spending years abroad studying architecture in Paris, over New Years 1894/95, Newton finally turned his attention to his childhood friend. But he had no game! On a sleigh ride in the country, he tried to propose but Edith cut himn off at the pass. With his tail between his legs, Newton went back to Paris to lick his wounds. It was only when her sister sent him a letter hinting that he should try again, conveniently letting him know exactly where they were going to be, that Newton came back to the States.  On the way, he stopped off in London for a new wardrobe! At the Minturn summer home in Canada, he pressed his suit again and this time he was accepted. Still, he wasn't sure if the marriage was actually going to take place until he saw his bride walk down the aisle. Unusually for the time, the marriage took place 2 months after the engagement.  Clearly Newton wanted to get his bride down the aisle as soon as possible!

But once Edith made up her mind to marry him, she never looked back. The couple were both interested more in improving the lives of others than spending their time attending balls. Newton plied his trade as an architect (among his buildings are St. Paul's Chapel at Columbia University, and the University Settlement House), as well as attempting to create decent housing for the poor. However, he's most known for a 6 volume tome called the Iconography of Manhattan Island. Edith became involved with the New York Kindergarten Association, and also ran a sewing school for immigrant women. Unable to have children, the couple adopted a little girl from England. Oh, and did I mention that they bought a house in England and had it taken down and then shipped across the Atlantic?

Edith seems to have suffered from chronic hypertension which often left her an invalid which greatly curtailed her work. In her sixties, she suffered a series of strokes, which left her almost completely paralyzed. Her husband would spend hours reading to her from her favorite books, or playing her favorite music.  She finally passed away at the age of 70 in 1937.  Her husband lived on for another 7 years until he passed away in 1944.  Their ashes are buried together at St. Paul's Chapel. Interesting factoid, Edith's great niece was Edie Sedgwick, the 1960's and Warhol icon, who was named after her. Her other niece (daughter of her sister Gertrude who married Amos Pinchot) was Rosamond Pinchot Gaston.

Other painters such as Cecilia Beaux (see below) painted Edith but they are more conventional portraits.

 
and then there is this one painted by Fernand Paillet (owned by the New York Historical Society), painted in 1892 when Edith was 25.


While both are beautiful, I don't think they come close to the Sargent portrait.  That woman I'd like to get to know, to hang out with.  The woman in the other portraits is someone that you might see at a tea party and have a pleasant conversation with.  They don't have the vitality that Sargent's portrait does.

Monday, March 26, 2012

And the Winner is......................

The winner of the March Madness Giveaway thanks to random.org is


WENDY


Wendy,  I will be sending you an email to get your address.  And I want to thank everyone for entering the giveway.  Please give coming back and reading the blog as I bring you more Scandalous Women over the next few months! And maybe a few more giveaways!





Sunday, March 25, 2012

UN SEUL REGRET : SUBBAN AURAIT DÛ PARTICIPER AU MATCH DES ÉTOILES...


Ainsi donc, la saison des CHaudrons s'achève en queue de poisson. Elle aura été fertile en émotions. Hilarante pour nous, les Anti-Habs... Pénible pour les fefans. Difficile pour nous d'être insatisfaits. Bien au contraire ! Mais, pour ma part, j'ai un petit regret concernant cette saison presque parfaite. C'est que P.K. Subban n'ait pas participé au match des étoiles, à Ottawa, au début de 2012. La "All Star Game" a connu une énorme perte de popularité au cours des dernières années. Il y a trois ans, en pleine année du centenaire du Caca, les fefans ont trafiqué le vote et ils ont permis à près de la moitié de leur club poche de participer à cet évènement qui se tenait au Centre PouBell. On se rappelle que Alex Ovechkin avait fait le pitre avec son chapeau de cowboy tout décrissé et en se servant de deux bâtons lors du concours des échappées. Tout aussi "show man", et voulant "singer" la super vedette des Capitals, Piqué des vers Subban a voulu retenir lui aussi l'attention l'année suivante au match des étoiles qui avait lieu en Caroline. On se souvient que, pour faire son comique, le gros plein de soupe CHicolore avait revêtu le chandail de Jeff Skinner, le jeune héros local des Hurricanes.

Cette année, dans la capitale canadienne, pour égayer la partie d'étoiles, les organisateurs comptaient sur la présence de la bête de cirque des Canailliens. Ils avaient même modifié le concours des tirs de précision (voir gravure ci-dessus) pour accommoder le gros jambon forêt noire no 76. Et pour mousser la candidature de ce cancre nauséabond, ils avaient mis des affiches partout dans les toilettes de la ville. Peine perdue ! Cou don, ce sera pour une autre fois, si Subban ne se fait pas arracher la tête d'ici là. Hier à Philadelphie, il a été hué durant toute la joute par les partisans des Flyers qui n'aiment pas les "fakeux" et les CHieux comme lui. Comme l'an dernier, alors qu'il était sur la patinoire sur le but des Bruins qui a éliminé le CanaCHien, Subban était sur la glace pour trois des quatre buts de l'Orange Crush. Sur le deuxième but de Daniel Brière, il a fait particulièrement dur. Il a donc joué un grand rôle dans la saison de merde du torCHon. Vive Picouille !

Tel que promis hier, voici la version "commentée" de mon montage sur l'élimination des CHieux...

Saturday, March 24, 2012

SAISON MÉMORABLE POUR LES ANTI-CH : CÉLÉBRONS L'ÉLIMINATION DES CHAUDRONS !


Sabrez le champagne ! Déclenchez les feux d'artifices ! Chantez ! Dansez ! Les CHaudrons de Moronréal sont finis ! Éliminés ! Capout ! Encore une fois, l'Orange Crush, les Flyers de Philadelphie, ont planté le dernier clou dans le cercueil des CHieux ! Thank You Philadelphia Freedom ! Je n'ai pas eu le temps d'écrire mes commentaires sur les images du montage que j'ai commencé pour fêter cette journée magnifique. Mais en gros, je dirai que le pétage de bretelles des fefans est terminé. Que le temps de la honte et de l'humiliation est venu pour ces bipolaires et leur club de losers. J'inclus le montage tel qu'il est en attendant de le compléter. Rien que le remix qu'il contient suffira à vous faire crier de joie, et à danser. C'est sur la musique de U2, BEAUTIFUL DAY que ces images crient au monde entier que le Cacanadien de MortYial, c'est de la GROSSE MARDE ! Amis Anti-Habs, réjouissons-nous de cette saison mémorable pour nous, mais misérable pour les fefans consternés ! On va passer un été fantastique. Un été à écoeurer les fefans débinés ! Mettez le son au max !

Thursday, March 22, 2012

Skittles - The Last Victorian Courtesan


Recently a friend and I were talking about Jesse James and his affair with the stripper Skittles.  The lovely and talented Hope Tarr thought we were talking about another Skittles, Catherine Walters, the last Victorian courtesan. I had totally forgotten about Skittles, probably because she was less flamboyant than some of the other Victorian courtesans. Skittles wasn't necessarily interested in being famous, unlike Cora Pearl, who seemed to court notoriety.

Imagine if there were trading cards for courtesans! I imagine that the one for Skittles would look this.

Name: CatherineWalters

Nickname: Skittles or Skitsie to her intimates.
Born: June 13, 1839 in Liverpool at No. 1 Henderson Street, in a drab and dirty street near the docks.
Died: 1920
Parents: Edward Walters, a custom employee, and Mary Ann Fowler
Siblings: 3rd of 5 children. 
Religion: Baptized a Catholic
Appearance: Small and slender, with grey-blue eyes and chestnut hair. 
She dressed inexpensively at first but with great taste, wearing clothing that was modest and subdued. Her riding habit was cut to so perfectly to the contours of her body that there was speculation that she wore nothing underneath it. If Cora Pearl were Versace and Vivienne Westwood, than Catherine would be more Chanel and Givenchy.


Traits: Exceptional beauty, practical nature, and riding skills, acquired while working in a livery stable. She was also effervescent, outspoken, direct and bawdy. Her naturalness was one of her chief attributes as a courtesan, she remained affectionate and sympathetic. “She had the most capacious heart I know and must be the only whore in history to retain her heart intact,” wrote journalist Henry Labouchere.  Never once did she seek to revenge herself on her lovers after the affair was over. There would be no autobiography detailing her lovers such as the ones penned by Cora Pearl or Harriette Wilson.

One of her most unusual traits was her ability to bind her lovers to her not only for the night or a for a few months but for life. One of her biographers, Henry Blyth, wrote that she possessed the quality of being loved. She also never attempted to bankrupt her lovers as did Cora Pearl and some of the other grandes horizontales of the 19th century.
Occupation: Courtesan
Lovers:  Marquess of Hartington, Prince of Wales, Achille Fould, Lord Fitzwilliams, Wilfred Scawen-Blunt, Aubrey DeVere Beauclerk

Background: Not much is known about Catherine’s early life in Liverpool, what her childhood might have been, where or how long she might have been educated. Her father was heavy drinker, so whatever money he made probably was spent on drink. One of her lovers, Wilfred Scawen-Blunt wrote in his diaries that Catherine’s mother died when she was four and that she had been sent to a convent school from which she had run away. Nor where she first learned to ride, one of the great passions of her life. One story is that she worked for a time as a bare-back rider in a traveling circus. Perhaps she saw one as a child and fell in love with the horses and wanted to ride. The most credible story is that she had access to the local stables and that she taught herself to ride by helping out in the stables and by exercising the horses.
For Catherine, riding was her entry into a better world than the one she came from. While other courtesans traded on their beauty, Catherine could outride and outhunt most men. Catherine appears not to have had the Victorian female aversion to sex, which boded well for her future profession. She was selective, choosing her lovers more because she enjoyed their company than for what they could do for her. She became the mistress of George, Lord Fitzwilliam at the age of 16. He set her up in London, when the relationship ended, he made her a generous settlement of £ 300 a year and a lump sum payment of £ 2,000. By this time she was known as ‘Skittles’ probably a reference to the fact that when she was young she worked setting up skittles in a local bowling alley, the Black Jack Tavern near the docks.
At the age of 19, she became the mistress of Spencer Compton Cavendish, Lord Hartington nicknamed ‘Harty-Tarty.’ He was the eldest son of one of the premiere Dukes in the kingdom, the 7th Duke of Devonshire. A shy and immature young man of 26 when they met, he was to become a major figure in Liberal politics and was considered by many as Gladstone‘s natural successor. By 1859, when she was 20, she was installed in a lovely little house in Mayfair, horses with a life settlement of an annual sum of £ 500 which the family continued to pay even after Hartington‘s death in 1908. Her relationship with Hartington lasted about four years and seems to have been greatly affectionate on both sides. The greatest passion that she and Hartington shared, and the only one they were able to indulge in publicly together, was hunting. While her lover occupied himself with his duties in Parliament, Catherine had lessons with a governess.

Catherine is also said to have worked as one of the celebrated ‘horse-breakers’ who paraded in Hyde Park from the hours of 5 to 7, where she first attracted widespread attention. In 1861, the future poet laureate Alfred Austin wrote a poem entitled ‘The Season’ which mentioned Skittles by name. When the painting "The Shrew Tamed," by Edwin Landseer was exhibited in 1861, it was assumed that she was the model for the womanin the painting, although it was also claimed that it was a woman named Annie Gilbert. Skittles had arrived!

Her horsemanship, for which she was passionately admired for, meant that she found acceptance on the hunting field that she was denied in other social situations. Stories about her daring abound, both on and off the field. She once cleared the 18 foot water fence at the National Hunt Steeplechase, on a bet, after three other riders tried and failed. She won £ 100 for her efforts. While the men on the hunting field were accepting of her, their wives were another story. When she rode with the Quorn, the wife of the Master of the Quorn who was the Earl of Stamford, took exception to Catherine’s presence. This despite the fact that the Countess had been a gamekeeper’s daughter and possibly a circus performer. Catherine left with good grace, but she is supposed to have remarked, ‘Why does Lady Stamford give herself such airs? She’s not the Queen of our profession, I am.”

After her relationship with Hartington ended, Catherine decided to move to Paris during the 2nd Empire of Napoleon III for a fresh start. Here she established herself as one of that select band of grandes cocottes. In Paris, rivals such as Cora Pearl, dyed their hair yellow or pink, entertained their paramours whilst lying in solid onyx bath tubs with taps of gold, and considered nakedness shameful only if one was not covered in diamonds. Catherine preferred to dress like a lady, she had a naturalness that must have seemed like a breath of fresh air in the hothouse atmosphere of Paris. “There was something special, very select and reminiscent of London and Hyde Park,” Zed wrote, When she appeared in the avenue de l’Imperatrice, driving herself with two beautiful sparkling pure-blooded horses, followed by two grooms on horseback in splendid and elegant uniform….every head turned, and all eyes were on her.”
One of her many admirers was the young diplomat and poet Wilfred Scawen Blunt (1840-1922) who was 23 when they met. Blunt fell deeply in love with her to the point of obsession. He was not her only lover which sent him into paroxysms of jealousy. The affair ended in a public scandal when the Ambassador to Paris, Lord Crowley discovered that while Blunt had been wooing his daughter Feodore to the point of being considered her ‘unofficial‘ fiancé, he’d been off sleeping with Skittles. Despite the family’s expectations, Blunt couldn’t bring himself to propose. Blunt was dismissed from his position at the embassy. After their relationship ended, Blunt never loved another woman the way that he loved Skittles. She was the inspiration for his narrative poem ‘Esther.’ When he married, he determined to marry for money, capturing the heart of Lady Anne King-Noel, the daughter of Ada, Countess of Lovelace and the granddaughter of Lord Byron. After several years, Blunt and Skittles resumed their friendship, corresponding until her death.
After the fall of the 2nd Empire, Skittles returned to London, where she divided her time between hunting and entertaining at her Sunday afternoon tea parties, which were attended solely by men including the future Prime Minister William Gladstone. She also had a brief affair, with Bertie, the Prince of Wales. After their liaison ended, the Prince also paid her an allowance, and whenever she was ill, he sent his own doctor to attend her. Once when he thought she was dying, he sent his private secretary to collect and destroy over 300 hundred letters that he had sent her.
In 1872, Skittles moved to 15 South Street, Park Lane, which was to be her residence for the rest of her life. At a certain point in the 1880’s, she took up with Alexander Horatio Baillie. Although she called herself Mrs. Baillie for a time, they were probably never married. Her final love affair was with Gerald de Saumarez, who she had first met when he was a schoolboy of 16 and she was 40. When she died at the age of 81, she left her estate to him. In her later years, she became something of a recluse. Crippled by arthritis in her later years, she died of a cerebral hemorrhage on August 5, 1920. She’s buried in the Franciscan monastery in Sussex. Her estate was worth £2764 19s. 6d at her death.

Sources:
Henry Blyth: Skittles: the last Victorian courtesan, Rupert Hart-Davis, London, 1970
Katie Hickman: Courtesans, Harper Collins, 2003
Cyril Pearl: The girl with the Swansdown Seat, Frederick Muller Ltd. London, 1955