Showing posts with label Napoleon. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Napoleon. Show all posts
Saturday, October 19, 2013
Battle Of The Nations 200th. Anniversary Day 4
To read what happened on Day 4 of the Battle Of The Nations one can go here and here.
This day marked also the heroic death of Marshal Poniatowski while attempting a rearguard defense.
French attention to this anniversary is quasi nihil.
The French Post didn't issue any stamp at all, nor did it last year for the Russia Campaign.
The Czech post issued a special commemoration minisheet.
They also issued an FDC and souvenir card :
Czech and French Posts issued jointly a stamp in 2005 for the Anniversary of The Battle Of Austerlitz.
Czech Post issued then as well a minisheet :
Friday, October 18, 2013
Battle Of The Nations : 200th. Anniversary Day 3
The media, at least in Germany are paying attention to this anniversary, or at least one channel.
MDR has a special page dedicated to the action and a lot of background as well, audio, video included.
Their pages really deserve to be visited!!
For what happened on Day 3 one can check it out here and here.
MDR has a special page dedicated to the action and a lot of background as well, audio, video included.
Their pages really deserve to be visited!!
For what happened on Day 3 one can check it out here and here.
Thursday, October 17, 2013
Battle Of The Nations : 200 th. Anniversary Day 2
I once recorded a documentary from the RTBF years ago, but I don't find this anymore on my VHS tapes.
If someone might have this documentary he can always leave a message.
Meanwhile I found this documentary which was broadcasted by ARTE :
Enjoy!
In the mean time I discovered this special website dedicated to the Napoleonic era and what concerns day 2 of the Battle of the Nartions can be read here.
One can read some resume of what happened on day 2 of the battle here as well.
If someone might have this documentary he can always leave a message.
Enjoy!
In the mean time I discovered this special website dedicated to the Napoleonic era and what concerns day 2 of the Battle of the Nartions can be read here.
One can read some resume of what happened on day 2 of the battle here as well.
Wednesday, October 16, 2013
Battle Of The Nations : 200 th. Anniversary Day 1
From today TuneUp will commemorate as best as possible the Battle of the Nations which took place exactly 200 years ago.
In France the national press hasn't had lots of attention at this historic event.
This is quite normal since Napoleons legacy, although undeniable omnipresent even today, is covered by the dust of the past. Don't talk about it.
If one wants to read more about the Battle of the Nations, you can start here.
And there's always Wikipedia, although between the french and english version there are some differences as for example concerning the numbers of troops involved.
What happend today 200 years ago?
I invite you to read the very detailed accounts of the two different phases of that day.
First there's one very detailed account concerning the period between 8.00 AM and 13.00 PM available here.
Then there's a second detailed account of what happened between 13.00 PM and 21.00 PM available here.
These pages with the french Order of Battle and the Order of Battle of the coalition are not to be missed either.
More to come tomorrow!!
In France the national press hasn't had lots of attention at this historic event.
This is quite normal since Napoleons legacy, although undeniable omnipresent even today, is covered by the dust of the past. Don't talk about it.
If one wants to read more about the Battle of the Nations, you can start here.
And there's always Wikipedia, although between the french and english version there are some differences as for example concerning the numbers of troops involved.
What happend today 200 years ago?
I invite you to read the very detailed accounts of the two different phases of that day.
First there's one very detailed account concerning the period between 8.00 AM and 13.00 PM available here.
Then there's a second detailed account of what happened between 13.00 PM and 21.00 PM available here.
These pages with the french Order of Battle and the Order of Battle of the coalition are not to be missed either.
More to come tomorrow!!
Thursday, May 23, 2013
Napoleon at the Scheldt
I went recently to Antwerp and visited the temporary exposition at the MAS called "Napoleon at The Scheldt"
I made some pictures with my smartphone which i want to share with you.
Enjoy!
I made some pictures with my smartphone which i want to share with you.
Enjoy!
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
Will The French Ever Stop Worshiping Napoleon?
Some nice post on the French and their relationship with Napoleon can be found here.
Enjoy the read!
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
Sir Thomas Pickton
From the Daily Mail Online :
Portrait of Waterloo hero that has hung in a court for generations 'must be removed as he approved torture as colonial governor'
Solicitors call for painting of Sir Thomas Picton, which hangs behind the judge's chair, to be taken down
Say reputation as a cruel colonial governor – he was accused of torturing a slave girl - mean his image should not be associated with modern justice
By Liz Hull
As one of the Duke of Wellington’s most skilful generals, he fought on the frontline of some of the bloodiest Napoleonic wars and was the highest ranking officer to die at the Battle of Waterloo.
So it is perhaps unsurprising that, to celebrate Lieutenant General Sir Thomas Picton’s military heroism, a large portrait of the Welshman hangs inside the court house in Carmarthen, South Wales.
But today it emerged that a row has broken out about the painting, which lawyers claim is offensive and should not be displayed behind the judge’s chair in Carmarthen Crown Court.
They say Sir Thomas’s reputation as a cruel and brutal colonial governor – he was military governor of Trinidad at the turn of the 19th century, where he was accused of torturing a young slave girl - mean his image should not be associated with modern equality and justice.
The portrait of Sir Thomas Picton, Lawyers say Sir Thomas's reputation as a cruel and brutal colonial governor - he was military governor of Trinidad at the turn of the 19th century, where he was accused of torturing a young slave girl - mean his image should not be associated with modern equality and justice.
However, Carmarthenshire Museum, who own the 8ft x 4ft portrait, disagree and say it was specifically commissioned for the court house, where it has lived for the past 182 years, and should stay.
Criminal lawyer Kate Williams, who is among those calling for the painting to be taken down, said: 'I appreciate the painting for historical purposes and that he (Picton) was a figure of note.
'But I find it very offensive that someone who was not only a known slaver, but also allegedly tortured a slave, should have his picture in a place where the values of justice are served.
'It’s fair to say he has a murky past and it is inappropriate to have his picture in a modern court of law, where we are supposed to represent the principles of equality and justice for all.
'I think people might misread the prominence of the picture as saying he has done something worthwhile to contribute towards justice, which really isn't the case.'
Sir Thomas, who was born in Poyston, Pembrokeshire, in 1758, was appointed military governor of Trinidad following the British victory in 1797 where he oversaw the production of sugar by slaves on the island’s plantations.
But he operated a brutally authoritarian regime which lead to accusations of slave torture, false imprisonment and execution.
In 1806 he was called back to Britain and faced trial in London over claims he authorised the torture of a 13-year-old girl, Louisa Calderon, who was accused of robbery, by forcing her to stand on a sharpened wooden peg while suspended from the ceiling.
This form of torture was dubbed 'Pictoning' at the trial and, although he was found guilty, Sir Thomas later overturned his conviction on appeal and went on to resume his military career.
His greatest successes came in Spain, where he was instrumental in the Battle of Vitoria, helping Wellington eventually claim victory in the Peninsular War.
Sir Thomas was killed after being was shot through the temple by a musket ball at the Battle of Waterloo, where, Welsh folklore contends, he fought in his top hat and tails because his uniform had not arrived at the frontline in time.
The portrait, by Sir Martin Archer Shee, was presented to the former Carmarthen Borough Council on September 2 1829. It was placed in the town¿s Guildhall (pictured) ¿ which is now used as a court ¿ and has been hanging in the same spot ever since.
Sir Thomas was killed after being was shot through the temple by a musket ball at the Battle of Waterloo, where, Welsh folklore contends, he fought in his top hat and tails because his uniform had not arrived at the frontline in time.
His military reputation was so high after his death that several colonial frontier towns in Canada, Australia and New Zealand were named after him and he remains the only Welshman to be buried in St Paul’s Cathedral.
His statue is among 12 'Heroes of Wales', in Cardiff’s City Hall, a comprehensive school in Pembrokeshire is named after him and there is also another monument to him in Carmarthen.
The portrait, by Sir Martin Archer Shee, was presented to the former Carmarthen Borough Council on September 2 1829. It was placed in the town’s Guildhall – which is now used as a court – and has been hanging in the same spot ever since.
Ann Dorset, a spokeswoman for the museum, said that although Sir Thomas was a 'cruel and brutal' governor of Trinidad, he was a 'a man of his time' and should not be judged by today’s standards.
'I think it would be a shame to move the painting from its original home,' she said.
'Picton was a very well respected general but on the other hand he was regarded as a rough and tough man and a great disciplinarian.
'He was a great leader of men and these wars were tough.
'It was hand to hand fighting and they were not like the battles of today. He would have been right in the middle of it.
'I think we have to accept Picton warts and all and not judge him by today's standards.'
Richard Goodridge, former mayor of Carmarthen, said removing the painting would be churlish.
He said: 'Louisa Calderon suffered no ill effects from the treatment she received and required no medical attention afterwards.
'After she was released from custody she walked more than a mile to the store where the crime took place, smoking a cigar.
'In February 1810 the court ordered Picton's recognisance and no further action ever took place. He was, and remains to this day, innocent of all the charges.
'Lieutenant General Sir Thomas Picton, despite what history may think of his unconventional ways, was an extremely popular officer and was killed in action at the battle of Waterloo in 1815 — the most senior officer to die for his country.'
Portrait of Waterloo hero that has hung in a court for generations 'must be removed as he approved torture as colonial governor'
Solicitors call for painting of Sir Thomas Picton, which hangs behind the judge's chair, to be taken down
Say reputation as a cruel colonial governor – he was accused of torturing a slave girl - mean his image should not be associated with modern justice
By Liz Hull
As one of the Duke of Wellington’s most skilful generals, he fought on the frontline of some of the bloodiest Napoleonic wars and was the highest ranking officer to die at the Battle of Waterloo.
So it is perhaps unsurprising that, to celebrate Lieutenant General Sir Thomas Picton’s military heroism, a large portrait of the Welshman hangs inside the court house in Carmarthen, South Wales.
But today it emerged that a row has broken out about the painting, which lawyers claim is offensive and should not be displayed behind the judge’s chair in Carmarthen Crown Court.
They say Sir Thomas’s reputation as a cruel and brutal colonial governor – he was military governor of Trinidad at the turn of the 19th century, where he was accused of torturing a young slave girl - mean his image should not be associated with modern equality and justice.
The portrait of Sir Thomas Picton, Lawyers say Sir Thomas's reputation as a cruel and brutal colonial governor - he was military governor of Trinidad at the turn of the 19th century, where he was accused of torturing a young slave girl - mean his image should not be associated with modern equality and justice.
However, Carmarthenshire Museum, who own the 8ft x 4ft portrait, disagree and say it was specifically commissioned for the court house, where it has lived for the past 182 years, and should stay.
Criminal lawyer Kate Williams, who is among those calling for the painting to be taken down, said: 'I appreciate the painting for historical purposes and that he (Picton) was a figure of note.
'But I find it very offensive that someone who was not only a known slaver, but also allegedly tortured a slave, should have his picture in a place where the values of justice are served.
'It’s fair to say he has a murky past and it is inappropriate to have his picture in a modern court of law, where we are supposed to represent the principles of equality and justice for all.
'I think people might misread the prominence of the picture as saying he has done something worthwhile to contribute towards justice, which really isn't the case.'
Sir Thomas, who was born in Poyston, Pembrokeshire, in 1758, was appointed military governor of Trinidad following the British victory in 1797 where he oversaw the production of sugar by slaves on the island’s plantations.
But he operated a brutally authoritarian regime which lead to accusations of slave torture, false imprisonment and execution.
In 1806 he was called back to Britain and faced trial in London over claims he authorised the torture of a 13-year-old girl, Louisa Calderon, who was accused of robbery, by forcing her to stand on a sharpened wooden peg while suspended from the ceiling.
This form of torture was dubbed 'Pictoning' at the trial and, although he was found guilty, Sir Thomas later overturned his conviction on appeal and went on to resume his military career.
His greatest successes came in Spain, where he was instrumental in the Battle of Vitoria, helping Wellington eventually claim victory in the Peninsular War.
Sir Thomas was killed after being was shot through the temple by a musket ball at the Battle of Waterloo, where, Welsh folklore contends, he fought in his top hat and tails because his uniform had not arrived at the frontline in time.
The portrait, by Sir Martin Archer Shee, was presented to the former Carmarthen Borough Council on September 2 1829. It was placed in the town¿s Guildhall (pictured) ¿ which is now used as a court ¿ and has been hanging in the same spot ever since.
Sir Thomas was killed after being was shot through the temple by a musket ball at the Battle of Waterloo, where, Welsh folklore contends, he fought in his top hat and tails because his uniform had not arrived at the frontline in time.
His military reputation was so high after his death that several colonial frontier towns in Canada, Australia and New Zealand were named after him and he remains the only Welshman to be buried in St Paul’s Cathedral.
His statue is among 12 'Heroes of Wales', in Cardiff’s City Hall, a comprehensive school in Pembrokeshire is named after him and there is also another monument to him in Carmarthen.
The portrait, by Sir Martin Archer Shee, was presented to the former Carmarthen Borough Council on September 2 1829. It was placed in the town’s Guildhall – which is now used as a court – and has been hanging in the same spot ever since.
Ann Dorset, a spokeswoman for the museum, said that although Sir Thomas was a 'cruel and brutal' governor of Trinidad, he was a 'a man of his time' and should not be judged by today’s standards.
'I think it would be a shame to move the painting from its original home,' she said.
'Picton was a very well respected general but on the other hand he was regarded as a rough and tough man and a great disciplinarian.
'He was a great leader of men and these wars were tough.
'It was hand to hand fighting and they were not like the battles of today. He would have been right in the middle of it.
'I think we have to accept Picton warts and all and not judge him by today's standards.'
Richard Goodridge, former mayor of Carmarthen, said removing the painting would be churlish.
He said: 'Louisa Calderon suffered no ill effects from the treatment she received and required no medical attention afterwards.
'After she was released from custody she walked more than a mile to the store where the crime took place, smoking a cigar.
'In February 1810 the court ordered Picton's recognisance and no further action ever took place. He was, and remains to this day, innocent of all the charges.
'Lieutenant General Sir Thomas Picton, despite what history may think of his unconventional ways, was an extremely popular officer and was killed in action at the battle of Waterloo in 1815 — the most senior officer to die for his country.'
Saturday, August 20, 2011
Stanley Kubrick and Waterloo and Napoleon
Got this in from a list i'm on, happy reading :
AUGUST 13, 2011
How Stanley Kubrick Met His Waterloo
By FREDERIC RAPHAEL
Whether for a novel, a history or a film, it requires a brave man to take on Napoleon Bonaparte. Tyrant or liberator, lawgiver or law-breaker, depending on how you look at him, Byron's "little pagod" remains, for his admirers, the incarnation of the romantic genius. Hegel, who saw him just once, hailed him—while he was still the unbeaten champion, headed to meet his nemesis in Russia—as an unmistakable "world-historical" figure, the personification of domineering panache.
From the earliest days of the cinema, filmmakers were drawn to his flame. Charlie Chaplin is said to have toyed with the subject as early as 1922. Around the same time, Abel Gance began but never finished a vast silent epic, full of symbolic juxtapositions and martial panoramas. Sacha Guitry made some sly chamber-pieces in the 1940s, in which he enjoyed standing in for the wily and witty Talleyrand, France's two-faced diplomat for all political climates.
In more recent years, Napoleon—impersonated by Marlon Brando, Rod Steiger, Herbert Lom, Woody Allen and others—has featured in a number of more or less colossal productions, none unsurpassable. The best of them, we are promised by Alison Castle, was going to be that of Stanley Kubrick. The massive, trilingual volume that is now to hand—you need two of them just to lift its 7½ pounds of text and pictures—contains Kubrick's script of the abortive project as well as samples of the research material he assembled over a period of years in the late 1960s and early 1970s. Much of the archive lay derelict after the early 1970s.
Kubrick himself is quoted saying that he was going to make "the greatest movie of all time." Since he was not a boastful man, we can assume that this was a blurb, composed on the principle of "promise them anything," to persuade his sponsors (MGM, then United Artists) to put the necessary gold in his war chest. No art form has ever demanded more money for its realization than the movies, and few have been imagined on a more epic scale than "Napoleon" (even if the budget was to be kept down by having extras wear cheap paper uniforms printed in New York).
As a creator, Kubrick always wanted to figure as what chess players (he carried himself as a grandmaster) call "Solus Rex": the only royal piece on the board. With "Napoleon," he intended to be writer, director and producer of his greatest achievement. This willful loneliness was alleviated only by enrolling the help of fact-finders and location spotters—in particular, Oxford historian Felix Markham, under whose tutelage he assembled a voluminous library cross-indexing details and images of everything and everyone that touched Napoleon's life.
Stanley Kubrick's 'Napoleon':The Greatest Movie Never Made
Edited by Alison Castle
Taschen, 1,112 pages, $49.99
The more material he perused, the more he thought he needed. Several pages here are devoted to why, when invading Russia, the usually far-sighted Napoleon failed to be sure that his farriers were equipped with frost-resistant horseshoes. As a result, his cavalry, and his supply train, were crippled by "General Winter." The protracted tape-recorded inquisition of Markham has only a few diverting moments—for instance, when Kubrick is quizzing the historian about Talleyrand and Napoleon's two-faced police chief, Fouché:
F.M.: Of course if Napoleon had won Waterloo, they'd have changed their tune pretty rapidly, I think.
S.K.: We should go to lunch.
When not hungry in the banal sense, Kubrick exhibited an appetite for learning that smacks of neurotic postponement. Flaubert was only the most famous writer to have made "research" a prolonged prelude to the dreaded moment when he had to face the blank page. Kubrick's principal difficulty was that he had almost no French and, it seems, little sense of France. (It had not hampered him when he made "Paths of Glory" because Calder Willingham had supplied his French officers and men with a nicely stylized, but playable, form of words.) The idea that the Corsicans were "like the Scottish highlanders" among the English—that is, a marginal but virile people—led to the daft notion that Napoleon might be acted with a Scottish accent.
In Kubrick's script, one of his generals pours Napoleon a "whisky," which seems as improbable as his request to Josephine, when he first meets his femme fatale, for a "sherry." It is odd that Napoleon at one point is said to look at his "wristwatch" (a 20th-century invention). There is also an anachronistic "teddy bear," Napoleon's alleged childhood toy, which his mother Letizia tidies away at the end of the film. It looks like hommage to "Rosebud," the sleigh that begins and ends Orson Welles's "Citizen Kane." On the other hand, the real Letizia's great line, when she heard of her son's coronation, "Pourvu que ça dure!" ("as long as it lasts!"), finds no place here.
Jan Harlan (Kubrick's executive producer and brother-in-law) says, quite rightly, that Kubrick "tried all genres" and "never repeated himself." What he does not say is that his desire to be a unique creator was always frustrated: His movies were never independent of someone else's source material. The triumphs that armed him to attack "Napoleon" were indebted, however grudgingly, to Terry Southern ("Dr. Strangelove" ), Anthony Burgess ("A Clockwork Orange"),and Arthur C. Clarke ("2001: A Space Odyssey"). Burgess is conspicuous by his absence here. In 1974, only a couple of years after Kubrick abandoned "Napoleon" to the snows of time, Burgess wrote a novel, "The Napoleon Symphony," that might have been devised as a reproach to Kubrick for never calling him to enliven his unmade chef-d'oeuvre. A speed-writing anti-Flaubert, Burgess is quoted as saying "overplanning is fatal to creativity": It stunts the unconscious mind and balks spontaneity.
The most poignant document is on page 616 in this 1,112-page tome. It is on yellow paper in Kubrick's own disjunctive script:
Problems
1. Who is Napoleon?
2. English.
3. How does N talk?
4.
The answers given in the script to questions 2 and 3 do not suggest that Kubrick ever licked the problem. Here is Napoleon's response to the news of Josephine's death: "She was the most alluring, most glamorous creature I have ever known—a woman in every sense of the word. " Try not to get an unwanted laugh with a line like that. Later, Napoleon tells the defeated Austrian emperor: ". . . the first rule of warfare. You must wear long-sleeved and long-legged underwear. You can never conjure up brilliancies with a cold bottom." True? Maybe. Funny?
The vacant fourth question has to have been how words and gestures could be attributed, plausibly, to characters Kubrick could visualize but could never inhabit: Crafting dialogue depends on a capacity to act like, and seem to be, other people. The "Napoleon" script might have been more daring, and convincing, if Kubrick had not fretted so much about authenticity.
For instance, there is a long scene devoted to the nuptial night of Napoleon with his virginal second wife, the 18-year-old, convent-educated Marie-Louise, daughter of that Austrian emperor (for whose benefit the middle-aged Master of the World took lessons in the waltz). Kubrick has them consummate the marriage on a darkened screen. He planned for us to hear only an assortment of giggles. It is possible that this could have delivered the required comedy, but it is said elsewhere that the young girl, far from wincing at her depucelage, immediately asked her somewhat spent husband, "Can we do it again?" Apocryphal or not, it rings true enough to pay off the scene better than giggles.
The historian Geoffrey Ellis, in one of the book's prefatory essays, claims that Kubrick's script "certainly deserve[s] its place in the company of other famous Napoleons; it is up to the reader to decide if it may or may not have surpassed them." My decision is that it did not. It was always going to be impossible to cram everything onto the screen. But why did he bother creating from whole cloth when, for instance, Vincent Cronin's one-volume life of Napoleon offered quite enough material on which to build an imaginative script?
Solus rex, Kubrick never cracked how best to dramatize his epic. All the effort that went into his "Napoleon" appears to have come to nothing, yet it did not. Kubrick did, in fact, come to make one of the greatest period movies of all time: "Barry Lyndon," for which William Makepeace Thackeray supplied the picaresque form, characters and much of the dialogue. The ironies so mordantly delivered by Michael Hordern, in the film's elegantly phrased voice-over, counterpointed the beauty of Stanley's immaculate staging. Kubrick was indeed a grandmaster; it is no shame, and certainly no blasphemy, to concede that Napoleon defeated him.
AUGUST 13, 2011
How Stanley Kubrick Met His Waterloo
By FREDERIC RAPHAEL
Whether for a novel, a history or a film, it requires a brave man to take on Napoleon Bonaparte. Tyrant or liberator, lawgiver or law-breaker, depending on how you look at him, Byron's "little pagod" remains, for his admirers, the incarnation of the romantic genius. Hegel, who saw him just once, hailed him—while he was still the unbeaten champion, headed to meet his nemesis in Russia—as an unmistakable "world-historical" figure, the personification of domineering panache.
From the earliest days of the cinema, filmmakers were drawn to his flame. Charlie Chaplin is said to have toyed with the subject as early as 1922. Around the same time, Abel Gance began but never finished a vast silent epic, full of symbolic juxtapositions and martial panoramas. Sacha Guitry made some sly chamber-pieces in the 1940s, in which he enjoyed standing in for the wily and witty Talleyrand, France's two-faced diplomat for all political climates.
In more recent years, Napoleon—impersonated by Marlon Brando, Rod Steiger, Herbert Lom, Woody Allen and others—has featured in a number of more or less colossal productions, none unsurpassable. The best of them, we are promised by Alison Castle, was going to be that of Stanley Kubrick. The massive, trilingual volume that is now to hand—you need two of them just to lift its 7½ pounds of text and pictures—contains Kubrick's script of the abortive project as well as samples of the research material he assembled over a period of years in the late 1960s and early 1970s. Much of the archive lay derelict after the early 1970s.
"Stanley Kubrick's 'Napoleon' " includes not only notes, drawings and photographs of potential costumes and scenes but records of the director's correspondence— and even transcripts of his conversations— with studios, scholars and potential stars. Kubrick's plans for casting now have a period ring. His ideas for Napoleon included David Hemmings (the randy photographer in Antonioni's 1966 hit "Blow-Up"); Jack Nicholson, who would serve him so brilliantly in Stephen King's "The Shining"; and Truffaut's star in "Jules et Jim," Oskar Werner (the only one actually contacted). Al Pacino, who might have been perfect, was not quite in season. For Josephine, he made overtures to Audrey Hepburn, whose terse letter on blue paper, turning him down "at this time," is in her own round hand.
Alison Castle's task of editorial collation "without betraying Kubrick's intentions" is, she tells us, "either unrealistic or just plain blasphemous. . . . Yet, in the opinion of many, present company included, it would be bordering on criminal not to share this treasure trove with the world." This hagiographical obsequiousness suggests that we are to be conducted through a treasury of sacred relics. Only the existence of something like a cult, with its hierarchy of genuflecting acolytes, can account for using "blasphemous" to describe the publication—down to the last scribbled note and photographed paper clip—of the verbal and visual baggage assembled for an excursion that never happened.
Alison Castle's task of editorial collation "without betraying Kubrick's intentions" is, she tells us, "either unrealistic or just plain blasphemous. . . . Yet, in the opinion of many, present company included, it would be bordering on criminal not to share this treasure trove with the world." This hagiographical obsequiousness suggests that we are to be conducted through a treasury of sacred relics. Only the existence of something like a cult, with its hierarchy of genuflecting acolytes, can account for using "blasphemous" to describe the publication—down to the last scribbled note and photographed paper clip—of the verbal and visual baggage assembled for an excursion that never happened.
Kubrick himself is quoted saying that he was going to make "the greatest movie of all time." Since he was not a boastful man, we can assume that this was a blurb, composed on the principle of "promise them anything," to persuade his sponsors (MGM, then United Artists) to put the necessary gold in his war chest. No art form has ever demanded more money for its realization than the movies, and few have been imagined on a more epic scale than "Napoleon" (even if the budget was to be kept down by having extras wear cheap paper uniforms printed in New York).
As a creator, Kubrick always wanted to figure as what chess players (he carried himself as a grandmaster) call "Solus Rex": the only royal piece on the board. With "Napoleon," he intended to be writer, director and producer of his greatest achievement. This willful loneliness was alleviated only by enrolling the help of fact-finders and location spotters—in particular, Oxford historian Felix Markham, under whose tutelage he assembled a voluminous library cross-indexing details and images of everything and everyone that touched Napoleon's life.
Stanley Kubrick's 'Napoleon':The Greatest Movie Never Made
Edited by Alison Castle
Taschen, 1,112 pages, $49.99
The more material he perused, the more he thought he needed. Several pages here are devoted to why, when invading Russia, the usually far-sighted Napoleon failed to be sure that his farriers were equipped with frost-resistant horseshoes. As a result, his cavalry, and his supply train, were crippled by "General Winter." The protracted tape-recorded inquisition of Markham has only a few diverting moments—for instance, when Kubrick is quizzing the historian about Talleyrand and Napoleon's two-faced police chief, Fouché:
F.M.: Of course if Napoleon had won Waterloo, they'd have changed their tune pretty rapidly, I think.
S.K.: We should go to lunch.
When not hungry in the banal sense, Kubrick exhibited an appetite for learning that smacks of neurotic postponement. Flaubert was only the most famous writer to have made "research" a prolonged prelude to the dreaded moment when he had to face the blank page. Kubrick's principal difficulty was that he had almost no French and, it seems, little sense of France. (It had not hampered him when he made "Paths of Glory" because Calder Willingham had supplied his French officers and men with a nicely stylized, but playable, form of words.) The idea that the Corsicans were "like the Scottish highlanders" among the English—that is, a marginal but virile people—led to the daft notion that Napoleon might be acted with a Scottish accent.
In Kubrick's script, one of his generals pours Napoleon a "whisky," which seems as improbable as his request to Josephine, when he first meets his femme fatale, for a "sherry." It is odd that Napoleon at one point is said to look at his "wristwatch" (a 20th-century invention). There is also an anachronistic "teddy bear," Napoleon's alleged childhood toy, which his mother Letizia tidies away at the end of the film. It looks like hommage to "Rosebud," the sleigh that begins and ends Orson Welles's "Citizen Kane." On the other hand, the real Letizia's great line, when she heard of her son's coronation, "Pourvu que ça dure!" ("as long as it lasts!"), finds no place here.
Jan Harlan (Kubrick's executive producer and brother-in-law) says, quite rightly, that Kubrick "tried all genres" and "never repeated himself." What he does not say is that his desire to be a unique creator was always frustrated: His movies were never independent of someone else's source material. The triumphs that armed him to attack "Napoleon" were indebted, however grudgingly, to Terry Southern ("Dr. Strangelove"
The most poignant document is on page 616 in this 1,112-page tome. It is on yellow paper in Kubrick's own disjunctive script:
Problems
1. Who is Napoleon?
2. English.
3. How does N talk?
4.
The answers given in the script to questions 2 and 3 do not suggest that Kubrick ever licked the problem. Here is Napoleon's response to the news of Josephine's death: "She was the most alluring, most glamorous creature I have ever known—a woman in every sense of the word. " Try not to get an unwanted laugh with a line like that. Later, Napoleon tells the defeated Austrian emperor: ". . . the first rule of warfare. You must wear long-sleeved and long-legged underwear. You can never conjure up brilliancies with a cold bottom." True? Maybe. Funny?
The vacant fourth question has to have been how words and gestures could be attributed, plausibly, to characters Kubrick could visualize but could never inhabit: Crafting dialogue depends on a capacity to act like, and seem to be, other people. The "Napoleon" script might have been more daring, and convincing, if Kubrick had not fretted so much about authenticity.
For instance, there is a long scene devoted to the nuptial night of Napoleon with his virginal second wife, the 18-year-old, convent-educated Marie-Louise, daughter of that Austrian emperor (for whose benefit the middle-aged Master of the World took lessons in the waltz). Kubrick has them consummate the marriage on a darkened screen. He planned for us to hear only an assortment of giggles. It is possible that this could have delivered the required comedy, but it is said elsewhere that the young girl, far from wincing at her depucelage, immediately asked her somewhat spent husband, "Can we do it again?" Apocryphal or not, it rings true enough to pay off the scene better than giggles.
The historian Geoffrey Ellis, in one of the book's prefatory essays, claims that Kubrick's script "certainly deserve[s] its place in the company of other famous Napoleons; it is up to the reader to decide if it may or may not have surpassed them." My decision is that it did not. It was always going to be impossible to cram everything onto the screen. But why did he bother creating from whole cloth when, for instance, Vincent Cronin's one-volume life of Napoleon offered quite enough material on which to build an imaginative script?
Solus rex, Kubrick never cracked how best to dramatize his epic. All the effort that went into his "Napoleon" appears to have come to nothing, yet it did not. Kubrick did, in fact, come to make one of the greatest period movies of all time: "Barry Lyndon," for which William Makepeace Thackeray supplied the picaresque form, characters and much of the dialogue. The ironies so mordantly delivered by Michael Hordern, in the film's elegantly phrased voice-over, counterpointed the beauty of Stanley's immaculate staging. Kubrick was indeed a grandmaster; it is no shame, and certainly no blasphemy, to concede that Napoleon defeated him.
Friday, January 28, 2011
Of historical interest : Napoleontic soldiers buried at Vilnius
Some rather old news but still interesting for the histrorical interested reader. Last November in Vilnius the authorities buried some 18 soldiers who belonged to Napoleons Grande Armée.
They belonged to the 29th régiment d'infanterie de ligne, 2nd régiment de dragons and the 7th régiment de hussards, which all belonged to the Emperors Guard.
More about this can be read here and here.
Saturday, December 12, 2009
Empress Josephine: The woman who taught France to drink
Empress Josephine: The woman who taught France to drink By John Lichfield
10:30 AM Thursday Dec 10, 2009
An exhibition at Paris' Chateau de Malmaison (pictured) examines the role Napoleon Bonaparte's first wife, the Empress Josephine, had in changing France's wine tastes. Photo / Wikimedia Commons image from user Wabill
When Marie-Josephe-Rose de Tascher de La Pagerie died in 1814, she left a heap of unpaid bills and a golden legacy to social historians.
Marie-Josephe-Rose, better known as the Empress Josephine, the first wife of Napoleon Bonaparte, was, among other things, a great connoisseur and collector of clothes, and an innovative gardener and botanist.
The written inventory of her final possessions in her chateau west of Paris has inspired learned studies and exhibitions on subjects as varied as the fashion trends and gardening styles of the early 19th century.
Josephine was also a celebrated hostess and, although not a great drinker, a great collector of wine.
The official inventory of her possessions at her death includes more than 13,000 bottles of wine from all over the world, from the Cape to Hungary to Champagne.
Study of her 1814 "wine list" reveals something that may seem unsurprising but was, at that time, extraordinary. Almost half of her bottles and barrels came from vineyards around Bordeaux.
Most of them, though little-known in France at that time, would later come to be recognised as among the greatest names in wine: the four "top" Medoc chateaux of Latour, Lafite, Margaux and Haut-Brion.
At the time of the Revolution 25 years earlier, the wine cellars of King Louis XVI had contained not a single bottle from the vineyards of south-west France. In aristocratic French society in the 18th century, Burgundy and Champagne reigned supreme.
Bordeaux was regarded as fit mostly for the English (who had been stubborn lovers of claret, or red Bordeaux wine, for four centuries).
Was the Empress Josephine a precursor of the great switch in French wine tastes which allowed the vineyards of Bordeaux, and especially the great chateaux of the Medoc, to emerge by the mid-19th century as the most prized wines in France and the world?
This is one of the subjects explored in an entertaining exhibition, La Cave de Josephine (Josephine's Cellar), which has started at the Chateau de Malmaison, west of Paris. It was here that Josephine lived for the last 15 years of her life, and died in June 1814, aged 50.
The exhibition, which will move to Germany and Italy next year, also examines other changes in the art de vivre of the French nobility which followed the fall of the monarchy.
Before the Revolution, an aristocratic French dinner-party was a kind of immense, stand-up buffet in which all dishes were served at once. Wine glasses were kept on trays by servants and topped up as required.
After the revolution, France gradually adopted the "Russian" style, now universal, of serving different, sit-down courses one after another.
Wine glasses began, finally, to be placed permanently on the table. These changes were driven partly by the post-Revolutionary dearth of legions of ill-paid servants.
France had also finally cracked the "industrial secret" of how to make crystal wine glasses, something previously known only to the British.
Elisabeth Caude, the joint curator of the exhibition, and joint curator of the chateau itself, says the Empress Josephine did not originate these shifts in the style of French dining but she did become one of their most celebrated exponents.
The Chateau de Malmaison, when bought by Napoleon and Josephine in 1799, was in wooded, open countryside beside one of the great loops of the river Seine west of Paris.
The site has now been enveloped by the suburban sprawl of the French capital but the chateau has been restored by the French state and looks, inside and out, much as it did in 1814.
When Napoleon divorced Josephine in 1809, he gave her the building and its contents. Josephine retained the title of Empress and maintained a kind of second imperial court. Hence her well-stocked wine cellar and her debts.
The new exhibition provides an entertaining insight into Josephine's life in Malmaison but also offers a freeze-frame of a pivotal moment in the history of wine.
In the late 18th century, two-thirds of all the vines planted in the world were in France. Domestic French tastes were dominated by white wine, mostly sweet, and by wine from Burgundy and Champagne.
The Emperor Napoleon was something of an exception. He would drank only Chambertin, a wonderful red wine from Burgundy which he insisted - following the habit of the times - in drowning in iced water.
How then did the cellar of the Empress Josephine, a dedicated follower and maker of fashion, contain so many barrels and bottles of unfashionable Bordeaux? How did it come to be dominated by red wine, rather than white?
The exhibition has borrowed huge, dusty ledgers from, among other places, the Chateau Latour in Medoc, showing the Empress Josephine's wine orders inscribed in ornate hand-writing.
It displays, among other things, the beautiful, porcelain labels which were hung around the necks of wine bottles before paper stick-on labels became common.
Of the 13,286 bottles of wine in her collection, no less than 5,973 came from Bordeaux. Only 419 (and one half) bottles came from Burgundy.
"Partly, you have to put those figures in perspective," Ms Caude said.
"We know there had been a great deal of entertaining just before Josephine's death. It is likely that the stocks of Burgundy and Champagne had been run down and were waiting to be replenished."
All the same, she says, the presence of so much Bordeaux, and not just any Bordeaux, is intriguing. The Napoleonic wars had cut off the traditional, British markets of the Bordeaux negociants, or traders.
One of Josephine's "knights of honour" and the manager of her household was Andre Bonnin de la Bonniniere, the Marquis of Beaumont. He was also the co-proprietor of the Chateau Latour vineyard in Medoc.
"It is obvious Bordeaux was desperate, at that time, to find new markets in France," Ms Caude said.
"One can also presume that the Marquis de Beaumont influenced Josephine's wine purchases, in an attempt to introduce the best kinds of Bordeaux to the imperial court and, therefore, to leading French society.
"But Josephine was also a woman of great character and great taste. She would certainly not have served her guests wine that she hadn't, herself, tasted and approved of. We can, therefore, say Josephine, as a leading figure in the new Imperial society of the early 1800s, did point the way to a change in the French taste in wine, which, by mid-19th century, had enthusiastically embraced Bordeaux."
The rest is oenological history. The days when British wine-lovers had the best Bordeaux chateaux to themselves have long gone.
The Empress Josephine died of pneumonia, after she wore a fashionably light gown outside on a chilly day. She was taking the Tsar of Russia on a tour of her famous gardens at the time.
She would have done better to stay inside and introduce him to her wine collection.
- INDEPENDENT
By John Lichfield
10:30 AM Thursday Dec 10, 2009
An exhibition at Paris' Chateau de Malmaison (pictured) examines the role Napoleon Bonaparte's first wife, the Empress Josephine, had in changing France's wine tastes. Photo / Wikimedia Commons image from user Wabill
When Marie-Josephe-Rose de Tascher de La Pagerie died in 1814, she left a heap of unpaid bills and a golden legacy to social historians.
Marie-Josephe-Rose, better known as the Empress Josephine, the first wife of Napoleon Bonaparte, was, among other things, a great connoisseur and collector of clothes, and an innovative gardener and botanist.
The written inventory of her final possessions in her chateau west of Paris has inspired learned studies and exhibitions on subjects as varied as the fashion trends and gardening styles of the early 19th century.
Josephine was also a celebrated hostess and, although not a great drinker, a great collector of wine.
The official inventory of her possessions at her death includes more than 13,000 bottles of wine from all over the world, from the Cape to Hungary to Champagne.
Study of her 1814 "wine list" reveals something that may seem unsurprising but was, at that time, extraordinary. Almost half of her bottles and barrels came from vineyards around Bordeaux.
Most of them, though little-known in France at that time, would later come to be recognised as among the greatest names in wine: the four "top" Medoc chateaux of Latour, Lafite, Margaux and Haut-Brion.
At the time of the Revolution 25 years earlier, the wine cellars of King Louis XVI had contained not a single bottle from the vineyards of south-west France. In aristocratic French society in the 18th century, Burgundy and Champagne reigned supreme.
Bordeaux was regarded as fit mostly for the English (who had been stubborn lovers of claret, or red Bordeaux wine, for four centuries).
Was the Empress Josephine a precursor of the great switch in French wine tastes which allowed the vineyards of Bordeaux, and especially the great chateaux of the Medoc, to emerge by the mid-19th century as the most prized wines in France and the world?
This is one of the subjects explored in an entertaining exhibition, La Cave de Josephine (Josephine's Cellar), which has started at the Chateau de Malmaison, west of Paris. It was here that Josephine lived for the last 15 years of her life, and died in June 1814, aged 50.
The exhibition, which will move to Germany and Italy next year, also examines other changes in the art de vivre of the French nobility which followed the fall of the monarchy.
Before the Revolution, an aristocratic French dinner-party was a kind of immense, stand-up buffet in which all dishes were served at once. Wine glasses were kept on trays by servants and topped up as required.
After the revolution, France gradually adopted the "Russian" style, now universal, of serving different, sit-down courses one after another.
Wine glasses began, finally, to be placed permanently on the table. These changes were driven partly by the post-Revolutionary dearth of legions of ill-paid servants.
France had also finally cracked the "industrial secret" of how to make crystal wine glasses, something previously known only to the British.
Elisabeth Caude, the joint curator of the exhibition, and joint curator of the chateau itself, says the Empress Josephine did not originate these shifts in the style of French dining but she did become one of their most celebrated exponents.
The Chateau de Malmaison, when bought by Napoleon and Josephine in 1799, was in wooded, open countryside beside one of the great loops of the river Seine west of Paris.
The site has now been enveloped by the suburban sprawl of the French capital but the chateau has been restored by the French state and looks, inside and out, much as it did in 1814.
When Napoleon divorced Josephine in 1809, he gave her the building and its contents. Josephine retained the title of Empress and maintained a kind of second imperial court. Hence her well-stocked wine cellar and her debts.
The new exhibition provides an entertaining insight into Josephine's life in Malmaison but also offers a freeze-frame of a pivotal moment in the history of wine.
In the late 18th century, two-thirds of all the vines planted in the world were in France. Domestic French tastes were dominated by white wine, mostly sweet, and by wine from Burgundy and Champagne.
The Emperor Napoleon was something of an exception. He would drank only Chambertin, a wonderful red wine from Burgundy which he insisted - following the habit of the times - in drowning in iced water.
How then did the cellar of the Empress Josephine, a dedicated follower and maker of fashion, contain so many barrels and bottles of unfashionable Bordeaux? How did it come to be dominated by red wine, rather than white?
The exhibition has borrowed huge, dusty ledgers from, among other places, the Chateau Latour in Medoc, showing the Empress Josephine's wine orders inscribed in ornate hand-writing.
It displays, among other things, the beautiful, porcelain labels which were hung around the necks of wine bottles before paper stick-on labels became common.
Of the 13,286 bottles of wine in her collection, no less than 5,973 came from Bordeaux. Only 419 (and one half) bottles came from Burgundy.
"Partly, you have to put those figures in perspective," Ms Caude said.
"We know there had been a great deal of entertaining just before Josephine's death. It is likely that the stocks of Burgundy and Champagne had been run down and were waiting to be replenished."
All the same, she says, the presence of so much Bordeaux, and not just any Bordeaux, is intriguing. The Napoleonic wars had cut off the traditional, British markets of the Bordeaux negociants, or traders.
One of Josephine's "knights of honour" and the manager of her household was Andre Bonnin de la Bonniniere, the Marquis of Beaumont. He was also the co-proprietor of the Chateau Latour vineyard in Medoc.
"It is obvious Bordeaux was desperate, at that time, to find new markets in France," Ms Caude said.
"One can also presume that the Marquis de Beaumont influenced Josephine's wine purchases, in an attempt to introduce the best kinds of Bordeaux to the imperial court and, therefore, to leading French society.
"But Josephine was also a woman of great character and great taste. She would certainly not have served her guests wine that she hadn't, herself, tasted and approved of. We can, therefore, say Josephine, as a leading figure in the new Imperial society of the early 1800s, did point the way to a change in the French taste in wine, which, by mid-19th century, had enthusiastically embraced Bordeaux."
The rest is oenological history. The days when British wine-lovers had the best Bordeaux chateaux to themselves have long gone.
The Empress Josephine died of pneumonia, after she wore a fashionably light gown outside on a chilly day. She was taking the Tsar of Russia on a tour of her famous gardens at the time.
She would have done better to stay inside and introduce him to her wine collection.
- INDEPENDENT
By John Lichfield
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