2013 Reading Plans

2012 was, in general, not a great year for reading for me.  I read a lot of books that I enjoyed but most of them were in the mystery genre (not that there is anything wrong with that) and I feel that I really limited myself too much to that one genre.

Part of the reason was that I was so goshdarn busy at work that when I got home I really wanted comfort reading and not challenging reading.  The other reason is that I started reading more on my ipad Nook app and I find the Barnes and Noble online site hard to browse, except for mysteries.  I don't know why this is - I used to order literary fiction from them all the time.  But last year I kept looking for new literary fiction to read and not much of anything they were pushing appealed to me.  Maybe that was them, maybe that was me, or maybe that was just publishing in 2012.

One of my plans for 2013 is to go back to reading more books in "real book" form.  The first challenge for that plan is that my favorite independent bookstore just closed, which is very sad.  There is another independent bookstore downtown that I like, but it isn't close to my office and by the time I hike over there I don't have much time to browse.  The obvious solution is the public library which I haven't visited much in the last year or so.  My local branch doesn't get much new fiction and they hide it in a poorly lit corner, so I think I'm going to try out other branches this year.

As far as what to read, I don't really have many specific books that are goals.  I plan to read the new Louise Erdrich novel next.   Other than that, I don't have any set goals.  I thought maybe I would just pick a few authors and try to find books by them that appealed to me.   I know I want to re-read some Robertson Davies.  I've been meaning to read something by Henry James, I don't think I've ever read any of his novels except Turn of the Screw.  I've had Dostoevsky in my plans for three years now, maybe this is the year.  I want to read more novels by Penelope Lively and Elizabeth Taylor.  I'd like to read another novel by Hilary Mantel.  

250 Years Ago ... Celebrating the New Year

 *Part of my continuing blog series leading up to the 250^th anniversary of the founding of St. Louis in February 2014. 
 

It is New Year's Eve and we all have our celebratory traditions.  Back before St. Louis was founded, the French settlements in the Mississippi river valley would have celebrated on this night by observing the tradition of 

La Guiannée or La Guignolèe.

  

Because I'm feeling a little lazy today, I will rely on Wikipedia to describe the background of this custom:

La Guiannée or La Guignolée is a French medieval New Year's Eve tradition that is still practiced in two towns in the United States. The tradition related to poor people being able to ask the more wealthy for food and drink at the celebrations of winter. Customarily a troupe of traveling male singers went from door to door to entertain and ring in the new year. Hosts were expected to give them food and drink. Other sources say the young men were seeking donations for Twelfth Night. Begun as a way for the poor to be given gratuities by the rich, it also became a community social event for young men to visit with the families of young women.
Over time, the practice became an occasion for visiting with relatives and friends, and was more or less, a traveling feast. At first it was carried on only by young men, often in costume; women joined the party in the 20th century. In many years, the people appeared in disguise, as part of the celebration was a kind of overturning of the common order.

  

The two towns in the United States where the custom is still observed are the little village of Prairie du Rocher, Illinois, which is located just south of the location of old Fort de Chartes, and Ste. Genevieve Missouri, located across the river.   

Here's a description of the celebration in Ste. Genevieve:

Ste. Genevieve, Missouri, lays claim to being the first permanent European settlement west of the Mississippi. Founded by French traders, it remained for centuries a French enclave in the midst of an increasingly Anglophone Midwest. Today, the last generation of native French speakers is disappearing, but old traditions still remain. The most visible is La Guignolée, a medieval tradition analagous to the English custom of wassailing. Every New Year's Eve, the descendants of St. Genevieve's French settlers don bizarre and archaic costumes and wander from bar to bar, singing a begging song that harks back to the Middle Ages.

       "The song asks for a piece of meat -- forty feet long, if I remember right," says Duke Blechler, leader of the current Ste. Genevieve Guignolée singers. "And if the people didn't have a piece of meat to give them, they would ask for their eldest daughter. Take her out, wine her and dine her -- which doesn't sound very good, you know."

       In every bar, the singers are welcomed with a drink and, as the night wears on, they begin to sway a bit and the French lyrics become harder and harder to understand. The spirit of the musical tradition keeps coming through loud and clear, though, until the last singer stumbles home to catch a few hours sleep before New Year's morning mas

 Here for your listening pleasure are Dennis and Jennifer Stroughmatt playing the song traditionally sung on La Guianee, so you can hear it (unfortunately they were  not playing it on a New Year's Eve but, rather, in summer):

   And here is one translation of the lyrics of the song:

Good evening master and mistress,
And all who live with you.
For the first day of the year,
You owe us La Guignolée. If you have nothing to give,
A chine of meat or so will do.
A chine of meat is not a big thing,
Only ninety feet long. Again, we don't ask for very much,
Only the oldest daughter of the house.
We will give her lots of good cheer,
And we will surely warm her feet. Now, we greet you,
And beg you to forgive us please.
If we have acted a little crazy,
We meant it in good fun. Another time we'll surely be careful
To know when we must come back here again.
Let us dance La Guenille,
-- La Guenille, La Guenille!

 Whatever your traditions, Bonne année et bonne santé !

Merry Christmas 2012

Wishing all who celebrate a Merry Christmas and a joyous New Year.  

This is my 500th post.  Never thought I'd keep this blog around this long. 

250 Years Ago ... 250 in 250

 *Part of my continuing blog series leading up to the 250^th anniversary of the founding of St. Louis in February 2014.

The Missouri History Museum is a little behind me in announcing how they are going to commemorate the 250th anniversary of the founding of St. Louis in February 2014. But they did just announce 250 in 250:

St. Louis will turn 250 years old in 2014, and we recently decided to plan an exhibit to commemorate the anniversary. This exhibit gives us the opportunity to tell St. Louis’s history in a number of new ways and to invite our visitors to think broadly and deeply about the city’s past, present, and future. It also gives us the opportunity to take our History Happens Here readers behind the scenes of the exhibit-making process in a way we’ve never done before.

 History Happens Here is the blog of the Missouri History Museum. And it promises to take us along as they plan the exhibition.

What we know so far is this. Our exhibit commemorating St. Louis’s 250^th anniversary will open in February of 2014 in the gallery that is currently being used for the Discover the Real George Washington exhibit.

Also, we have already decided how we want to organize the exhibit (this often doesn’t happen until later in the process). We will tell 250 years of St. Louis history through 50 people, 50 places, 50 moments, 50 images, and 50 objects. That framework provides us with a number of opportunities but also a number of challenges.

 Apparently what they intend is to pack the entire 250 years into one exhibition rather than focus on what happened 250 years ago.  I'm generally OK with that, although I think they are missing a chance to celebrate the old French heritage of the City.   But I'm sure it will be a fun exhibition.  Over the last number of years I've been impressed with most of the history museum's exhibitions.

Still, it would be nice if the City or one of its major cultural institutions would sponsor a French Fête for the event.  After all, February ... that's mardi gras time isn't it?  And we do have the second biggest Mardi Gras celebration in the country.  Hmmm. 

 

250 Years Ago ... Why the Big Secret?

 *Part of my continuing blog series leading up to the 250^th anniversary of the founding of St. Louis in February 2014.

 On November 23, 1762 France and Spain signed the Treaty of Fontainebleau whereby France ceded control of Louisiana to Spain.  This fact, however, remained secret for a few years; news didn't make its way up the Mississippi until 1764.  Spain, in fact, would not take over governance of Louisiana until 1766.  

As I was researching the history of the Treaty, I kept looking for a simple explanation for why the treaty was secret.  I assumed that in any given history book, there would be a quick explanation of the strategy that France and Spain were pursuing in keeping the treaty secret.

Surprisingly, there is little discussion of this. Most historians simply referred to the treaty as the "secret" Treaty of Fontainebleau if they referred to the secret at all.  Perhaps looking at it through the eyes of Anglo-centric history, as we often do, it was just one of those things that France and Spain did.  France was the historic enemy, it couldn't be trusted, so OF COURSE it secretly gave the land west of the Mississippi to Spain.  Or, another way to look at it, was that Louisiana was the price that France had to pay to Spain in order to make peace; keeping it a secret saved everybody's face.  Other historians imply that, after the war, Spain was in a better financial position to maintain the barrier between Britain and its own silver mines in Mexico, which might have been true but doesn't explain why it had to be secret.  

Another theory is that maintaining and strengthening the "Family Compact"between the Bourbon King of France and the Bourbon King of Spain was part of France's long term strategy for rebuilding after the war and eventually waging war, again, on Britain.  The cession of Louisiana to Spain helped strengthen that tie. Perhaps that is why it had to be kept secret.  If France's strategy was to simply rebuild, strengthen its alliances and come back against Britain as soon as possible, it is reasonable that they wouldn't want to let Britain in on any part of that strategy too soon.

W.J. Eccles, the noted Canadian historian, buys into the Family Compact theory.  He believes that France's main goal in ending the Seven Years war was to make peace in such a way that they could rebuild their army and navy in as fast a time as possible, consolidate their alliance with Spain, and eventually become strong enough to wage war again in the hope of restoring the balance of power in the world and stop the growth of the ever mightier British Empire. 

Eccles is one of the few historians I've read who is specific about France's view of the role of Britain's North American colonies in their plans. (See his essays, The Role of the American Colonies in Eighteenth -Century French Foreign Policy, and The Social, Economic, and Political Significance of the Military Establishment in New France.)   In his view, by as early as 1710 the French saw the Anglo Americans, and their independent way of thinking, as a source of trouble for the British.  The chief minister for the French North American colonies, hearing a rumor that the people of New England had established "a sort of Republic" in which they were "unwilling to accept the absolute governors of the Kings of England" wrote to the Governor of Canada to tell him of Louis XIV's approval of this state of affairs and his encouragement for Canada to join with the "Council of Boston" to aid it in this endeavor.  Of course this plan came to naught, but it is interesting that the despot, Louis XIV, was willing to encourage a republic in North America if it meant a thorn in the side of Britain.  

By mid-century, according to Eccles, observers were saying that the only thing keeping the Anglo American colonies tied to Britain was a fear of the French and Indians along the inland borders.  He quotes a 1748 letter by the Swedish botanist Peter Kalm:

The English colonies in North America, in the space of thirty or fifty years, would be able to form a state by themselves entirely independent of Old England.  But as the whole country which lies along the seashore is unguarded, and on the land side harassed by the French, these dangerous neighbours in time of war are sufficient to prevent the connection of the colonies with their mother country from being quite broken off. 

The French never saw their own North American colonies as profitable and constantly questioned whether they should continue with them.  However, the French did not want to see the British spread out across the entire North American continent, as far west as New Spain and the silver mines of Mexico.   In France's view, imperial Britain already had too much power.  Control of the entire North American continent by the British would be intolerable.  Hence, French policy in the 1700's was to use its North American colonies to keep the British hemmed in along the Atlantic seaboard. 

The fall of Canada in the Seven Years War shattered this policy.  By war's end the British were poised to keep Canada and all the land east of the Mississippi River.  What was the reaction of France to the fall of Canada itself?  They simply switched to Plan B.  After all, the concern wasn't Canada, the concern was defeating that old enemy Britain.

The reaction in France to these events is revealing.  The King's only concern was over the fact that his troops had been obliged to lay down their arms without receiving the honours of war. That concerned him greatly; the loss of half a continent and the fate of his Canadian subjects concerned him not at all.  Nor did his chief minister, the single-minded duc de Choiseul, appear dismayed at the unexpected turn of events.  Even before Quebec fell a senior official in the ministry of marine, the marquis de Capellis, had advised the abandonment of Canada when the time came to negotiate for peace, since to do so would lead to the ruin of Britain by bringing on the defection of her American colonies. With the acquisition of Canada, he argued, those colonies would soon surpass old England in wealth, and indubitably they would then throw off the yoke of the metropolis ...

As the war came to a close, and the duc de Choiseul prepared to negotiate a peace treaty with Britain, according to Eccles, he informed the French ambassador to Spain that he was going to "insist on the abandonment of Canada in order to drive a rift between England and her colonies."

The British were not unaware of the danger.  According to Eccles, in 1761 Lord Bedford, a British diplomat in Paris, had written home:

I don't know whether the neighbourhood of the French to our North American colonies was not the greatest security for their dependence on the mother country, which I feel will be slighted by them when their apprehension of the French is removed.

 But the Anglo Americans wanted Canada to be retained; they had fought hard for victory and they wanted their spoils. They put pressure on Britain and, in the end, Canada was not returned to France. 

The French clearly recognized at an early point that if they removed themselves from North America entirely, there might be adverse consequences to Britain as her own colonies became too independent.  As part of its own plan to rebuild itself and Spain, while at the same time doing what it could to weaken Britain, France decided to give up all of its colonies in North America.   Giving up Louisiana may, therefore, have had two purposes:  to strengthen the Family Compact with Spain and to remove France completely from the New World so that the Anglo Americans could focus exclusively on the issues they had with their mother country. 

Nineteen years later, in 1781, a combined army consisting of the Continental Army troops led by George Washington and French troops led by the Comte de Rochambeau, with aid from the rebuilt French fleet from the West Indies commanded by the Comte de Grasse, and troops from the Continental Army led by the Marquis de Lafayette,  defeated the British Army of General Cornwallis at Yorktown.  The French had achieved their goal; North America would not be British. 

Across the international boundary line that was the Mississippi River, the French residents of St. Louis living under Spanish rule cheered the victory.

250 Years Ago ... 11/23/1762 The Treaty of Fontainebleau

 *Part of my continuing blog series leading up to the 250^th anniversary of the founding of St. Louis in February 2014.

On November 23, 1762, King Carlos of Spain finally got around to accepting the gift of Louisiana from France.    The Treaty of Fontainebleau made it official.

But shhhhhh.  Don't tell anyone.  It's still a secret from most of the world, including Louisiana.

Definite Act of Cession of Louisiana by the King of France to the King of Spain

Louis, by the grace of God, King of France and Navarre, to all to whom these presents shall come, greeting:  Whereas our very dear and well beloved cousin, the Duke de Choiseul, peer of our realm, knight of our orders and of the golden fleece, lieutenant-general of our armies, governor of Tourraine, colonel-general of the Swiss and Grisons, grandmaster and super-intendant general of the posts and relays of France, our minister and secretary of state for the departments of war and marine and the correspondence with the courts of Madrid and Lisbon, did sign, in our name, with the Marquis de Grimaldi, knight of our orders, gentleman of the chamber, in exercise of our very dear and well beloved brother and cousin, the Catholic king, and his ambassador extraordinary near us, a preliminary convention, whereby, in order to give our said brother and cousin a new testimonial of our tender friendship, of the strong interest which we take in satisfying him and promoting the welfare of his crown, and of our sincere desire to strengthen and render indissoluble the bonds which unite the French and Spanish nations, we ceded to him entire and perpetual possession of all the country known under the name of Louisiana, together with New-Orleans and the island in which that city stands, which convention had only been signed conditionally and sub sperati by the Marquis de Grimaldi: and whereas our said brother and cousin, the Catholic king, animated with the same sentiments toward us which we have evinced on this occasion, has agreed to the said cession, and ratified the conditional acceptation made by his said ambassador extraordinary, which convention and ratification are here inserted word for word, as follows:

Don Carlos, by the grace of God King of Castile, of Leon, of Arragon, of the two Sicilies, of Jerusalem, of Navarre, of Granada, of Toledo, of Valencia, of Gallicia, of Majorca, of Seville, of Sardinia, of Algesiras, of Gibralter, of the Canary Islands, of the East and West Indies, and the islands and main land of the ocean, Archduke of Austria, Duke of Burgundy, of Brabant and Milan, Count of Hapsburg, of Flanders, of Tyrol, and of Barcelona, lord of Biscay, and of Molina, etc.

Whereas, on the third day of the present month, the preliminaries of a peace, were signed between the crowns of Spain and France, on the one part, and those of England and Portugal on the other, and the most Christian king, my very dear and well beloved cousin, purely from the nobleness of his heart, and the love and friendship in which we live, thought proper to dispose that the Marquis de Grimaldi, my ambassador extraordinary near his royal person, and the Duke de Choiseul, his minister of state, should on the same day sign a convention by which the crown of France ceded immediately to that of Spain, the country known by the name of Louisiana, together with New-Orleans and the island in which that city stands, and by which, said ambassador agrees to the cession only conditionally sub sperati, as he is not furnished with orders to execute it absolutely; the tenor of which convention is the following:

The most Christian king being firmly resolved to strengthen and perpetuate the bonds of tender amity which unite him to his cousin, the Catholic king, proposes in consequence to act with his Catholic majesty at all times  and in all circumstances, in a perfect uniformity of principles, for the common glory of their house and the reciprocal interests of their kingdoms.

With this view, his most Christian majesty, being fully sensible of the sacrifices made by the Catholic king in generously uniting with him for the restoration of peace, desires, on this occasion, to give him a proof of the strong interest which he takes in satisfying him and affording advantages to his crown.

The most Christian king has accordingly authorized his minister, the Duke de Choiseul, to deliver up to the Marquis de Grimaldi, the ambassador of the Catholic king, in the most authentic form, an act whereby his most Christian majesty cedes in entire possession, purely and simply, without exception, to his Catholic majesty and his successors, in perpetuity, all the country known under the name Louisiana, as well as New-Orleans and the island in which that place stands.

But as the Marquis de Grimaldi is not informed with sufficient precision of the intentions of his Catholic majesty, he has thought proper only to accept the said cession conditionally, and sub sperati  until he receives the orders expected by him from the king, his master, which, if conformable with the desires of his most Christian majesty, as he hopes they will be, will be followed by the authentic act of cession of the said country; stipulating also the measures and the time, to be fixed by common accord, for the evacuation of Louisiana and New-Orleans, by the subjects of his most Christian majesty, and for the possession of the same by those of his Catholic majesty.

In testimony whereof, we, the respective ministers, have signed the present preliminary convention, and have affixed to it the seals of our arms.

Done at Fontainebleu, on the third of November, one thousand seven hundred and sixty two.

THE DUKE DE CHOUISEUL
THE MARQUIS DE GRIMALDI

Therefore in order to establish between the Spanish and French nations the spirit of union and friendship which should subsist as they do in the hearts of their sovereigns, I, therefore, take pleasure, in accepting, as I do accept, in proper form, the said act of cession, promising to accept those which hereafter may be judged necessary for carrying it into entire and formal execution, and authorizing the said Marquis de Grimaldi to treat, conclude and sign them.

In testimony whereof, I have ordered these presents to be drawn up, signed by my hand, sealed with my privy seal, and countersigned by my counselor of state and chief secretary of state and war.  Given at San Lorenzo et Real on the thirteenth of November, seventeen hundred and sixty-two.

I, the King

(countersigned) Ricardo Wall.

The said acceptance and ratification having been approved by us, and regarded as a strong evidence of the friendship and goodwill of our very dear and well-beloved cousin, the Catholic king, we renew and confirm by these presents, the cession of Louisiana and New-Orleans, with the island in which that city stands, promising immediately to conclude with our said brother and cousin a convention, in which the measures to be taken in concert for executing and consummating this session to our mutual satisfaction will be fixed by common accord. In faith whereof, we have caused these presents to be drawn up, which we have signed with our hands, and have affixed to them our secret seal.

Given at Versailles, on the twenty-third day of the month of November, in the year of grace one thousand seven hundred and sixty-two, and of our reign the forty-eighth.

Louis

(by the King)

Choiseul, Duke de Praslin

I Recommend Robertson Davies

I'm in one of my reading slumps these days.  I've started two or three books but I just can't find the time or the energy or the will to finish them. Life should get better in November December (I hope) so I can get back to reading for pleasure.

Someone (I wish I could remember who) mentioned Robertson Davies the other day and I've been thinking of re-reading some of his novels.  Maybe I'll do that after the first of the year.

If you haven't read him, you should.

"Oho, now I know what you are. You are an advocate of Useful Knowledge."

"Certainly."

"You say that a man's first job is to earn a living, and that the first task of education is to equip him for that job."

"Of course."

"Well, allow me to introduce myself to you as an advocate of Ornamental Knowledge. You like the mind to be a neat machine, equipped to work efficiently, if narrowly, and with no extra bits or useless parts. I like the mind to be a dustbin of scraps of brilliant fabric, odd gems, worthless but fascinating curiosities, tinsel, quaint bits of carving, and a reasonable amount of healthy dirt. Shake the machine and it goes out of order; shake the dustbin and it adjusts itself beautifully to its new position."

Robertson Davies from his novel Tempest-Tost