Newsletter number seventeen
Oct. 1st, 2010 12:54 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
charlie_cochraneWet and grey here in Hampshire (old, not New) and a very autumnal feel to life.
News:
Lessons in Temptation is out in print on Tuesday 5th. At the end of the book are a series of postcards the lads send home from their French holiday, referring to Orlando’s unusual opinions on the Venus de Milo. In case you’ve ever wondered what they are:
“Orlando.” It was holiday and Dr Coppersmith had been left behind in Cambridge along with St Bride’s and the occasional dunderhead who was staying up for the summer. “I know that I shall immediately regret asking this question, but what are you up to?”
“I’m just looking to see whether this woman has an Adam’s apple.”
Jonty Stewart sat down and fanned himself with his hat. “Well that absolutely takes the biscuit. I would have thought from the lady’s figure there could be little doubt as to her gender.”
“It’s not the body I have an issue with – although I wish she had decided to be slightly more discreet – it’s her face. She looks like a man.” And giving this damning verdict on the Venus de Milo, Orlando sat down and fanned himself as well; Paris was proving particularly hot this summer, a fact that at least meant that the museum was relatively quiet and they could admire the exhibits in peace.
“A man? One of the most famous statues in Europe and you calmly declare that she looks like a chap and then go looking for evidence to prove it?”
“Well, she’s hardly a depiction of the ideal female, at least not to my eyes.” Orlando fixed the statue with a keen expression.
“And who would fill that exalted niche, Orlando? I didn’t realise that you were an expert on the feminine countenance.” Jonty’s eyes danced with joy; the foreign air was getting to his friend and having the most marvellous effects.
“Your mother or granddame would be a wonderful example of the type.” Orlando spoke as if he were discussing some proof of Euclid’s. “Or even that lady who played Gertrude when we saw Hamlet. Soft feminine lines; not the harsh masculine ones that I see on this lady’s face.” He rose again, circling the statue. “She’s softer from the side, but from the front … she hardly seems the most beautiful of all women.”
“Perhaps they had a different estimation of beauty in those days. Fashions change – even Cleopatra would be reckoned as no great shakes now.”
“That was the conclusion I’d reached, although I did wonder whether she really is supposed to be Venus and someone didn’t make a mistake of attribution along the way.”
“I don’t think so, Orlando. My father has an interesting pamphlet all about her, comparing her to similar statues of the lady in question.” Jonty laid down his hat and began to consider. “So it has to be a case of changing tastes.”
“Do you think that there is any possibility that the sculptor had a male model?”
“What an extraordinary idea.”
“Not any more strange than your sonnets and their master/mistress chappie. Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day and all that stuff; most people would think those are the sort of words one applies to a woman.”
Jonty considered again. “No, I can’t agree with it. The line of the back of her neck is too elegant; even you haven’t quite such grace of carriage.”
Orlando performed another circuit of the effigy. “Well, I think that I have to conclude that I prefer the winged figure of Victory, headless though she be. Much more life and vigour to her.”
“I’m in agreement with you there - such elegance in the drapery for one thing.” Jonty observed Orlando’s circling; the man resembled nothing so much as a judge at a dog show. “I suppose if you’d been Paris, you’d have said sorry old thing and given the judgement to Juno – or perhaps Apollo. Either way the Trojans would have been better off.” A sudden happy thought struck him. “Would you have given Mama the apple?”
Orlando laughed. “Would I have dared not to? She’d have taken it and brained me with it if I hadn’t. And I suspect that if I saw her in her very pomp then I would have chosen her gladly; I have her glass before me and I know that there can be no face more fine-looking.”
“Pantalon mou.” Jonty blushed, adding enormously to his already radiant looks. “Even La Giaconda herself?”
“Even her. Although…” Orlando began to smile to himself.
“Although what? Out with it.” Jonty swiped his lover with his hat.
“I rather think that Antinous was prettier.” Orlando looked horribly smug, full of secret thoughts that were going to take Jonty immense pains to get out of him.
“Antinous? I didn’t think he was your type.”
“Because he doesn’t look like you? Just because a man likes apple crumble he shouldn’t be denied the opportunity of admiring rhubarb pie, too.”
“You fancy playing Hadrian then, do you, Orlando? As well as Paris? You are going to be a busy boy today.”
“Twonk. Come on, I can hear neither apple crumble nor rhubarb pie calling me – nor indeed a nice hot crumpet and don’t titter because it doesn’t become you – but a fine piece of camembert, with hot bread and a carafe of white wine. If you don’t want me to go and find a nice little Antinous type to share it with you’d better shift your bahookie as Miss Peters says.”
“Ariadne never says that - she’s far too well bred.” Jonty fixed his lover with a gimlet gaze, as if trying to establish just what was making the man so bold. “As I always thought you were. I see that we should have come abroad before now; it makes you as bold as a gladiator. Talking of which, did you see that strigil? And do you know what they did with them?”
“I did. I do.” Orlando put on his hat and quickened his stride. “Better ask for some olive oil with that bread…”
Inspiration:
You all know I love nature and these things are some of the most spectacular things in the world…
News:
Lessons in Temptation is out in print on Tuesday 5th. At the end of the book are a series of postcards the lads send home from their French holiday, referring to Orlando’s unusual opinions on the Venus de Milo. In case you’ve ever wondered what they are:
“Orlando.” It was holiday and Dr Coppersmith had been left behind in Cambridge along with St Bride’s and the occasional dunderhead who was staying up for the summer. “I know that I shall immediately regret asking this question, but what are you up to?”
“I’m just looking to see whether this woman has an Adam’s apple.”
Jonty Stewart sat down and fanned himself with his hat. “Well that absolutely takes the biscuit. I would have thought from the lady’s figure there could be little doubt as to her gender.”
“It’s not the body I have an issue with – although I wish she had decided to be slightly more discreet – it’s her face. She looks like a man.” And giving this damning verdict on the Venus de Milo, Orlando sat down and fanned himself as well; Paris was proving particularly hot this summer, a fact that at least meant that the museum was relatively quiet and they could admire the exhibits in peace.
“A man? One of the most famous statues in Europe and you calmly declare that she looks like a chap and then go looking for evidence to prove it?”
“Well, she’s hardly a depiction of the ideal female, at least not to my eyes.” Orlando fixed the statue with a keen expression.
“And who would fill that exalted niche, Orlando? I didn’t realise that you were an expert on the feminine countenance.” Jonty’s eyes danced with joy; the foreign air was getting to his friend and having the most marvellous effects.
“Your mother or granddame would be a wonderful example of the type.” Orlando spoke as if he were discussing some proof of Euclid’s. “Or even that lady who played Gertrude when we saw Hamlet. Soft feminine lines; not the harsh masculine ones that I see on this lady’s face.” He rose again, circling the statue. “She’s softer from the side, but from the front … she hardly seems the most beautiful of all women.”
“Perhaps they had a different estimation of beauty in those days. Fashions change – even Cleopatra would be reckoned as no great shakes now.”
“That was the conclusion I’d reached, although I did wonder whether she really is supposed to be Venus and someone didn’t make a mistake of attribution along the way.”
“I don’t think so, Orlando. My father has an interesting pamphlet all about her, comparing her to similar statues of the lady in question.” Jonty laid down his hat and began to consider. “So it has to be a case of changing tastes.”
“Do you think that there is any possibility that the sculptor had a male model?”
“What an extraordinary idea.”
“Not any more strange than your sonnets and their master/mistress chappie. Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day and all that stuff; most people would think those are the sort of words one applies to a woman.”
Jonty considered again. “No, I can’t agree with it. The line of the back of her neck is too elegant; even you haven’t quite such grace of carriage.”
Orlando performed another circuit of the effigy. “Well, I think that I have to conclude that I prefer the winged figure of Victory, headless though she be. Much more life and vigour to her.”
“I’m in agreement with you there - such elegance in the drapery for one thing.” Jonty observed Orlando’s circling; the man resembled nothing so much as a judge at a dog show. “I suppose if you’d been Paris, you’d have said sorry old thing and given the judgement to Juno – or perhaps Apollo. Either way the Trojans would have been better off.” A sudden happy thought struck him. “Would you have given Mama the apple?”
Orlando laughed. “Would I have dared not to? She’d have taken it and brained me with it if I hadn’t. And I suspect that if I saw her in her very pomp then I would have chosen her gladly; I have her glass before me and I know that there can be no face more fine-looking.”
“Pantalon mou.” Jonty blushed, adding enormously to his already radiant looks. “Even La Giaconda herself?”
“Even her. Although…” Orlando began to smile to himself.
“Although what? Out with it.” Jonty swiped his lover with his hat.
“I rather think that Antinous was prettier.” Orlando looked horribly smug, full of secret thoughts that were going to take Jonty immense pains to get out of him.
“Antinous? I didn’t think he was your type.”
“Because he doesn’t look like you? Just because a man likes apple crumble he shouldn’t be denied the opportunity of admiring rhubarb pie, too.”
“You fancy playing Hadrian then, do you, Orlando? As well as Paris? You are going to be a busy boy today.”
“Twonk. Come on, I can hear neither apple crumble nor rhubarb pie calling me – nor indeed a nice hot crumpet and don’t titter because it doesn’t become you – but a fine piece of camembert, with hot bread and a carafe of white wine. If you don’t want me to go and find a nice little Antinous type to share it with you’d better shift your bahookie as Miss Peters says.”
“Ariadne never says that - she’s far too well bred.” Jonty fixed his lover with a gimlet gaze, as if trying to establish just what was making the man so bold. “As I always thought you were. I see that we should have come abroad before now; it makes you as bold as a gladiator. Talking of which, did you see that strigil? And do you know what they did with them?”
“I did. I do.” Orlando put on his hat and quickened his stride. “Better ask for some olive oil with that bread…”
Inspiration:
You all know I love nature and these things are some of the most spectacular things in the world…
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2010-10-01 12:47 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-10-01 03:34 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-10-04 09:59 am (UTC)Thanks to a recommendation in Lynn Flewlling´s LJ I´ve ordered all books of your delightful series. Book 3 is in my clutches now and I´m enjoying it immensly. Jonty and Orlando are the sweetest couple!
Just wanted to let you know that you have a new fan:-)
Best wishes from Germany, Joana
(no subject)
Date: 2010-10-04 10:38 am (UTC)Thank you so much for your kind words about 'the lads'. I daren't tell them, as they're already terribly swollen headed.
With lots of love from a bright but cold England
Charlie