A comet in Québec’s literary sky, Émile burned bright but a few seconds.  Sensitive and shy, close to his mother, he wrote brilliant poems, studied in schools even today.

POSTER CHILD OF THE TWO SOLITUDES

Canada has an expression entirely its own:  the two solitudes, taken from Hugh MacLennan’s 1945 novel of the same title.  It refers to the rift between English and French, the lack of communication and the lack of will to communicate.

Émile’s father, David Nelligan, emigrated to Montreal from Dublin at the age of twelve, succeeded at school and managed to establish himself in middle-class society with a job at the post office.  He married Émilie Hudon, from an old Montreal family, catholic but French-speaking.

But French-speaking.

Émile came first, then his two sisters were born.  David forbade his wife and children to speak French at home, and this only pushed Émile closer to his mother, a devout catholic and a musician.  Émile chose French to write his first poems.

WHEN IN TIME

Émile’s era came just after the Enlightenment movement in Paris and its famous poets, Verlaine, Baudelaire and Rimbaud.  Inspiration also came from Poe, since Émile was fluent in both French and English.

Rimbaud is the poet Émile is most compared to, both for their visionary verses and their short careers.  Émile Nelligan’s “Le Vaisseau D’Or” or “The Ship of Gold” is often compared to Rimbaud’s “Bateau Ivre” or “The Drunken Ship”.

FIRST WORKS

The Nelligan family had a summer home in Cacouna and Émile missed school a lot every year between March and August.  His mother completed his education at home.  In 1896, age 17, he enters Ste-Marie College and it’s at that school he finds his first literary friendships, Joseph Melançon, Denys Lanctôt and Louis Dantin.  His first poem is published in a weekly journal under a pseudonym.  But the journal refuses to publish more poems unless Émile gives his real name and address.

In 1897, he meets Arthur de Buissière, who gets Émile admitted at the Literary School, a club of young writers, freshly out of university or in their last year.  At his first meeting, he reads two poems, Berceuse and Le Voyageur. Émile goes regularly to the Literary School and writes steadily.

The following year, Émile finds a job as a sailor on a boat leaving for Liverpool.  He makes the voyage but upon his return, he abandons the job.  His father finds him a new position with a coal merchant (or a flower shop, history is unclear on that point) but Émile can’t stand it.  Meanwhile, other writers read his poetry at the Literary School and his name gets circulated in the literary world.

MAY 26TH, 1899

In January 1899, the popular newspaper, La Patrie, publishes L’Idiote aux Cloches and Émile works with fervor to complete his first poem collection.  In March, La Patrie publishes yet another poem and Émile is on the roster at the Literary School on six consecutive meetings between January and February.  A journalist from France gives a negative review of Le Perroquet and Émile is crushed.  He stays a few weeks away from the Literary School but returns in April.

May 26th, Émile reads La Romance du Vin, written in response to the French journalist’s critique, and the crowd is ecstatic.  He wins the honors of the night and he is carried home by his friends in triumph.

This was Émile Nelligan’s last public appearance.  He suffered a psychotic breakdown that summer and he never recovered.  He was 19 years old.  In August of that year, his family committed him to the St.Benoit’s retreat house and he came out in 1925 only to be transferred to the psychiatric hospital St-Jean-De-Dieu, where he died in 1941.  After

his triumph on May 26th, he never wrote again.

CHILDHOOD MEMORIES

My mother gave me his complete collection when I was teenager and I cherish the book.  I studied Émile Nelligan’s body of work in high school, and contrary to my classmates, I was completely absorbed by his poetry.

The public library I lived closest to was called Émile Nelligan and I loved to roam the rows of book and settling my eyes on his pictures that dotted the walls.

I’ll leave you with Émile Nelligan’s last poem, the one he recited on the evening of May 26th, 1899, La Romance du Vin or The Song of Wine.  I found the translation online on The Flying Scribbler.

Song of Wine
Translation by
Fred Cogswell (1917-2004)

Fresh in joy, life, light – all things coincide,
This fine May eve ! like living hopes that once
Were in my heart, the choiring birds announce
Their prelude to my window open wide.

O fine May eve! O happy eve of May!
A distant organ beats out frigid chords;
And long shafts of sun, like crimson swords,
Cuts to the heart the scent of dying day.

How gay, how glad am I ! Pour out, pour out
Once more the wine into the chiming glass
That I may lose the pain of days which pass
In scorn for all the wicked human rout.

How glad am I ! My wine and art be blest!
I, too, have dreamt of making poetry
That lives, of poems which sound the exequy
For autumn winds that passing far-off mist.

The bitter laugh of rage is now good form,
And I, a poet, must eat scorn for food.
I have a heart but am not understood
Save by the moonlight and the great nights of storm.

Woman ! I drink to you who mock the path
where the rose-dream calls with arms flung wide;
I drink, too, to you men with brows of pride
Who first refuse my hand then scorn my life!

When the starry sky becomes one glorious roof,
And when a hymn resounds for golden spring,
I do not weep for all the days’ calm going,
Who wary grope within my own black youth.

How glad am I ! May eve all eves above.
Not drunk but desperately glad am I !…
Has living grown at last to be a joy?
Has my heart, too, been healed of my sick love?

The clocks have struck and the wind smells of night
Now the wine gurgles as I pour it out.
So glad am I that I laugh and shout
I fear I shall break down and sob outright.

THE ORIGINS OF ABSINTHE

In ancient Egypt, mentions of absinthe were found in papyrus.  The Greeks, Pythagore and Hippocrate, also praised absinthe, its creative stimulation and its aphrodisiac after-effect.

The modern origins are disputed between Doctor Pierre Ordinaire and between a woman named Henriod in the canton of Neuchatel, in Switzerland.  What historians seem to agree on is the recipe was bought by a soldier, Major Dubied, who opened with his son-in-law, Henri Louis Pernod, in 1797, the first absinthe distillery in Couvet, Switzerland.

For thirty years or so, absinthe remained a local beverage, despite an organized fight against alcoholism.   In 1830, French soldiers colonized Algeria and recommended to the population to distill a few drops of absinthe in water to fight malaria and dysentery.  Upon their return to France, soldiers quickly shared their taste of the beverage and its popularity lighted up Paris.

WHAT’S IN ABSINTHE?

Wormwood is the main herb used in absinthe.  Green anis, fennel, lemon balm and hyssop are also part of the recipe.  Absinthe is a distilled alcohol, like whisky or gin.  This beverage is between 45 and 90% proof.  No wonder one can hear muses and angels.

THE HIGH TIMES OF ABSINTHE

During the mid nineteenth century, absinthe was the preferred drink of writers, poets and painters.  Oscar Wilde loved the “green fairy”, and he is quoted:  ”What difference is there between a glass of absinthe and a sunset?”  Ernest Hemingway, (no surprise here, as stated in this other blog) featured the drink in For Whom The Bell Toll and the short story Hills Like White Elephants.  It is said he procured absinthe from Spain and Cuba after the ban.

Famous French poets, Verlaine and Rimbaud, were known to drink large quantities of absinthe together.  Beaudelaire was also a “green fairy” addict and wrote under its influence.  Guy de Maupassant, in his story A Queer Night in Paris, describes all sensations from the hour to take absinthe.

Painters also let absinthe color their work.  Van Gogh’s many yellow paintings and his ear cutting episode are attributed to absinthe.

THE BAN

Absinthe became the ugly face of alcoholism throughout France, speared on by anti-alcoholic leagues (one was headed by Louis Pasteur) circa 1875.  In 1906, The French National Anti-Alcoholic league collected 400,000 signatures.  In a time where signature had to be collected one by one (No Facebook option at the time), this movement was simply phenomenal.  In a twist that’s all French, their motto was “All for wine, all against absinthe.”

Wine producers might have been behind the movement, non?

Sarcasm aside, if one drank the same amount of absinthe as wine, the effects were four to six times more heady.

The leagues won their cause.  In 1915, absinthe was banned in France and many other countries.  It’s been re-emerging lately with modification to the recipe.  If you’re interested in knowing more about absinthe, there’s a fascinating documentary available on Netflix or Hulu or Amazon Prime.

DUBLIN – THE BRAZEN HEAD

In St-Patrick’s day honor, I thought I’d start with Ireland.  Touted as Dublin’s oldest bar – circa 12th century – The Brazen Head has a courtyard and three bars and live music every night.  It’s a short walk away from the Guinness Brewery.  History has marked the walls of the bar, with revolutionaries drawing plans against the British, treason, arrests and more beer please!

Ireland is on my list of must-see places-before-I-die.  And the Brazen Head screams Irish fun.  Especially the Storytelling evening:  a night of food, folklore and fairies.

Born in 1882, James Joyce enrolled in the new Dublin University College in 1898, graduated in 1902.  He left Dublin briefly for Paris but came back when his mother became sick.  Known for getting into trouble, he drank heavily, and many of his friends – and enemies – ended up in his most famous novel, Ulysses.  He left Dublin in 1904 in self-imposed exile and came back only on occasion.  But his stories all revolved around Dublin.

VENICE – HARRY’S BAR

It’s impossible to find to bars in the world where Ernest Hemingway has not visited.  Harry’s Bar in Venice has been patronized by Hemingway, but I’ll concede this one to Truman Capote.

Venice, Italy.  The charm of a forever sinking city.

My husband and I happened on Harry’s Bar at the end of a long walking day.  It was our first time in Venice and we did like all tourists:  oohing, aahing and pointing.  The architecture defies logic, the waterways are amazing, the museums seductive.

Feet aching, Harry’s Bar called to us like water to a parched throat.  But we didn’t drink water.  We had bellinis.  One can’t go at Harry’s Bar and not try the bellini.

The name Harry is after a young man, Harry Pickering, a young, rich man from Boston.  He hung out at Hotel Europa in Venice where he met bartender Giuseppe Cipriani.  His family cut his finances and Harry stopped going to the bar.  Cipriani loaned him some money.  Two years laters, Harry came back to Venice and gave Cipriani almost triple the amount and asked the bartender
to open his own establishment and to call it Harry’s Bar.

Truman Capote traveled Europe and published in 1950 Local Color, a collection of travel essays. He is known for this quote about Venice:  “Venice is like eating an entire box of chocolate liqueurs in one go.”

THE BODEGUITA, HAVANA

Conferences attract writers, even in difficult economic times, because it’s an occasion to meet other writers, to socialize, to commiserate.  In other eras – after wars especially – writers and other artists would gather at bistros and cafés, thirsty for mind-like company.

That’s how The Bodeguita came to be in the 1950s.  The bohemian Casa Martinez, as it was named then, attracted writers and journalists, musicians and choreographers.  It brought life to Old Havana.  Oh, and a new cocktail named “mojito”, an affair of rum, mint, sugar, lemon and club soda.

Ernest Hemingway lived a Ferrari life in a world of Peugeot.  He traveled intensely – that’s why he’s been in every bar in the world - married four times, had multiple accidents that should have killed him but didn’t.  He was there on D-Day, covered both world wars in person, and drew inspiration in every place he visited.  He was the Indiana Jones version of a writer.

He was known for drinking – a lot.  Chronic pain propelled him into self-medicating with alcohol.  Paris, Venice, Havana and Key West, many cities boast of bars where Hemingway spent time at.  At The Bodeguita, there’s a sign on the wall:  ”My mojito in La Bodeguita, my daiquiri in La Floridita.”

I hope you enjoyed my historic bar crawl.  Which one have you visited?  Please share with me in the comment section!

History movies rock.

What’s your favorite?

THE TOP TEN BEST HISTORICAL MOVIES

I looked for an official list of best history movies on google. I found too many. But a few movies rose to the top.

#1. Schindler’s List

#2. Gladiator

#3. Saving Private Ryan

#4. Braveheart

#5. The Last of the Mohicans

Those five movies consistently made every list. The next four are older but unforgettable.

#6. Ben Hur

#7. Casablanca

#8. Gone With The Wind

#9. Lawrence of Arabia

I reserve the last spot for one of my favorite. It’s French, there’s suspense and mystery, great fight scenes and a fiery heroine. And the hero looks like my protagonist Jason in The French Way. Interesting fact: if you watch Iron Chef America, you might recognize the Chairman in the movie.

#10. Brotherhood of the Wolf

What’s your favorite historical movie? Share in the comment section. And please enjoy this trailer from Brotherhood of the Wolf:

A BOOK CLUB PRESENTATION

I had such a week last week and it was super pleasant.  A tennis friend of mine had asked back in October that I present a program to her book club.  ”But I’m not published,” I said.

“It doesn’t matter,” my friend said.  ”You can talk about your process or your book story, I know my club will be thrilled to have you.”

I agreed to do it.  The presentation was last Tuesday afternoon and my friend drove me to her club, who met at a member’s home.  A group of twenty friendly ladies who welcomed me with the best southern hospitality.

I had decided to not talk about my book in detail.  I offered the outline but I focused my presentation on my writing process, especially how I approached my revisions.  I gave examples of before and after.  I showed how I strengthened my manuscript with rhetorical devices, deeper POV and power words.

I opened the program with the analysis of Kelley Armstrong’s opening of her Young Adult novel, The Summoning.

Mommy forgot to warn the babysitter about the basement.

Here’s my analysis of this great opening.  First, with “Mommy”, the POV is clear and tells me the protag is young.  The verb “warn” is strong and it’s the writer’s promise of a good thrill. To end on “basement” is powerful.  Basement evokes darkness, dampness, spiders and spookiness.  It makes the reader want to keep reading and see what’s in the basement and what will happen to the POV character.

The group loved this analysis.  I don’t think they ever thought of writing in such a way.  One lady told me she thought writing was a simple matter of stringing words together until you reached the end.

“You are quite right,” I said.  ”Writers knit about 100,000 words together to write a novel.  But it’s so much more.  It has to be the right words, in the right order, in the right format.”

I had a great time presenting to this book club, and I do hope they left their meeting knowing a little bit more about the PROCESS of writing.

SISTERS IN CRIME

Sisters-In-Crime of Upstate SC received Nina Bruhns Thursday night and I attended the meeting.  Nina Bruhns is a best-selling author of nearly 30 novels and is the Editorial Director for Entangled Publishing’s suspense line.

After dinner, Nina opened her chat with SIC by saying she loves to play the fairy Godmother.  Some time ago, she used an app on her Kindle to “listen” to a self-published book, Playing With Poison.  Despite the robotic voice, she laughed so much she just knew she had to acquire the author.  Cindy Blackburn was sitting in the room with us and, on the spot, Nina offered her a two-book contract.

Isn’t that a great way to open a meeting?

Nina talked about Entangled Publishing and its unique structure and how editors are linked to the success of their writers.  When I’m finally ready to submit my current manuscript, Entangled will be a serious pursuit of mine.

How was your writing week?