Goal for the Day: Nod and Smile

“This is nice, but…” How often do you hear that? “But…” For some reason, a lot of people feel the need to complain about anything they can think of. Often, they begin their complaints with a half-hearted compliment before unleashing whatever it is that they feel they must express.


I’ve known a great deal of people who truly take enormous delight in complaining. I’m happy to say that I no longer have to deal with those people, but their memory lives on. Some people are never satisfied with anything. If they take pleasure in being dissatisfied, then, by golly, let them.

However, their dissatisfaction doesn’t have to mean that you have to be miserable, too. The best response is to just nod and smile. Arguing only fuels their unhappy fire. By politely dismissing them and going on about your business, you’ll both feel as though you’ve accomplished something.

Object of the Day: A Transitional Diamond Stickpin

As tastes changed from the Victorian to Edwardian eras, so did popular styles of jewelry. The more florid, curvilinear designs gave way to considerably more angular creations which relied on geometry and simplicity. This diamond stickpin, for example, dates to the late 1910’s. Here, we see a delicately decorated hexagon which has been set with a fine grill of gold. The cage-like inset has been so expertly crafted that it almost appears to be floating with no visible means of support. In the center of the grill, a diamond has been mounted. This, too, appears to hover magically over the gold-work.


By the 1920’s, jewelry began to rely more heavily on geometric designs. This stickpin shows the evolution of the jeweler’s art as sensibilities shifted from the more romantic to the bolder tastes of the jazz age.

Painting of the Day: Victoria, Princess Royal, in Fancy Dress, 1850

Victoria, Princess Royal, in Fancy Dress
Sir William Ross
Watercolor on Ivory, 1850
The Royal Collection

Though life in the Royal Residences was probably quite comfortable, it had to have been a tad dull for Queen Victoria’s children. Devoted to both country and family, Queen Victoria and Prince Albert did attempt to entertain their children. One of the family’s favorite ways of passing time was to stage informal “fancy dress” parties in the Royal Apartments.


This miniature on ivory by Sir William Ross shows Princess Victoria, the daughter of Victoria and Albert, in one such costume. The Queen was so pleased with this delicate painting of her child in “Turkish” robes that she allowed it to be displayed at The Royal Academy.

Person of the Week: Matt Bomer

Though it’s easy to be distracted by Matt Bomer’s classic Cary Grant charm and his Montgomery Clift good looks, the real beauty of this rising star is deeper than his full head of hair and ability to wear clothes well. This is a well-rounded individual who proves that the concept of sophistication isn’t quite dead yet.

I started Stalking the Belle Époque last year as a response to what I perceived as a distinct lack of elegance and intelligence in the world media. By sharing my ideas of grace and human achievement in the arts and humanities from centuries past (as well as the present), I’ve been joined each week by several thousand others of you who are actively searching for the same thing, a glimpse at the same ideals. We all seem to have the same question. Borrowing from Chicago, “Whatever happened to class?”

Entertainers like Matt Bomer answer that question for us. It’s still alive and well! Bomer, the son of former footballer, John Bomer, grew up in Texas, and engaged in the naturally Texas-y pastime of football in high school. Having spent many of my formative years in Texas as well, I know first-hand what a big deal football is in these parts. Though, admittedly, I don’t understand the sport in the slightest, I have nothing against it, either. I just recall that during my high school days, those who engaged in the sport were discouraged from thinking about much else. Mr. Bomer, on the other hand, enjoyed sports, but also didn’t limit his other interests. In fact, he was encouraged. How refreshing!

With the support of his family Mr. Bomer pursued an education in the arts, graduating from Carnegie Mellon University in 2001. Following his graduation, he worked as an actor in New York, appearing on daytime dramas such as All My Children and The Guiding Light.

A career in film and primetime television soon followed with performances in a varied list of pictures and programs. These appearances led to Mr. Bomer’s casting in USA’s White Collar in which he stars alongside Tim DeKay.

The program has not only given Matt Bomer a chance to showcase his talents, but also to make a difference in our global community. He lends his support to a host of causes, and has spoken in Public Service Announcements about the need for religious tolerance. Bomer’s appearances in public are a testament to the art of elegance.  Articulate, good-natured, modest and cheerful, Mr. Bomer shows us the way a celebrity should act. When we’re inundated with images of “stars” behaving badly and demanding attention for negative conduct, it’s the people like Matt Bomer who remind us what a “star” really is.  When you can effortlessly transition between promoting your show and dancing with a kid to a hip-hop song, smiling the whole time, you've demonstrated the modern definition of "class." 

Sculpture of the Day: The Royal Neptune Standing Salt, 1851

The Royal
Neptune Standing
Salt
Elkington, Mason & Co.
1851
The Royal Collection

Queen Victoria had quite a grand time at the Great Exhibition of 1851, spending over £200 on table silver alone. She had a particular fondness for the silver-work of Elkington, Mason & Co., and purchased several items at their exhibit. Among those items was this especially regal standing salt cellar which became known in the Royal Household as “The Royal Neptune Salt.”


Crafted in fine, partly gilt sterling, the base features figures of horses which appear to be rising from the sea. They support a column of draped nymphs who hold the cellar aloft. The receptacle itself is inspired by seashells. The centerpiece of the object is an exquisitely worked figure of Neptune, representing, as one of Victoria’s courtiers pointed out, “the briny wave whence the contents of his vessel were to be derived.”

This was a period during which great detail was afforded even the simplest and practical pieces of tableware. So, it was only fitting that something as important as the salt cellar—symbolic of the owner’s status—should be given such attention. Often, a person’s position in society could be judged by his placement at the dinner table. Those closer to the salt cellar wielded more power than those who were seated farther away, thus giving rise to the phrase, “Above the salt.”

Treat of the Week: A Blueberry Crumb Cake

This weekend, I happened to catch one of my favorite episodes of The Nanny—the wedding of Fran Fine and Maxwell Sheffield (Episodes 5.22-23). When Max is explaining the many reasons he adores Fran, he says, “I love the way you get excited over a good piece of coffee cake.” Fran’s response: “Or even a bad one.”


This cake certainly falls into the “good” category. Like, the fictional Miss Fine, I find that I get excited over a good piece of coffee cake, too. And, yesterday, I was quite excited.

This beautiful coffee cake is another masterpiece from my mother’s kitchen. A moist, yet fluffy, cake has been infused with fresh blueberries and topped with a very thick crumb topping. I’ve got to say, no one makes a crumb topping like my mother’s. It’s the perfect texture and I’ve never been quite sure how she does it. But, I’m glad she does.

Breakfast, lunch, or dinner, this is a cake over which we can all be excited.

Punch's Cousin, Chapter 152

Mr. Punch had grown accustomed to feeling. At first, the sensations of Julian’s body were strange and foreign—almost humorous—to him. Hunger, thirst, fatigue, itchiness, aching, energy—these natural feelings confused Mr. Punch at first. Soon, he’d grown used to living in a human body full-time. In many ways, he thought, the constancy of a puppet body was much easier. Wood and papier mache feel nothing. However, soon he found there was delight in hunger inasmuch as the feeling of being full after eating was pleasurable. Pleasure—that was another thing. Joy, sorrow, worry, amusement, love, loathing—emotions—these, too, had been concepts which had confused him. Confusion in and of itself was strange. But, he’d grown to appreciate it. And, of course, there was fear. That was the one thing that he had already understood. Punch knew fear. After all, it was out of fear that he’d been born. Julian’s fear had conceived Mr. Punch in the first place. And, pain—yes, pain. Mr. Punch had grown to know pain, too.


He’d occupied Julian’s mind for thirty years. True, he’d been actively using Julian’s body for almost as long. Of course, not for as extended a period as he had then, at the end of 1852. But, for all of that time, Mr. Punch had grown to expect pain. There’d been a lot of it, too. The pain of the beating Julian had sustained in Covent Garden when thugs had handled him roughly. That was the day that Punch had first met Robert. Little did he know at the time that he and Robert would have been reunited on The Hyperion, that their lives would be forever entwined. There was the pain of the fire in the stable, the broken glass of the window which had sliced Julian’s hand when Mr. Punch spotted Arthur, the pain of being poisoned, pain in many forms…

However, the pain he experienced that night—just before the year changed to 1853—was new and frightening. At first, it was simply a dampness, a flash of red in front of his eyes, the weight of Barbara Allen atop him as the smell of gun powder wafted through the air. Then, it was a clutching hand, the grip of cold fingers around his heart, a strange combination of lightness and heaviness, ice and fire.

Was the blood that flooded into the fibers of his coat his own or Barbara’s?

It was his own.

Or, to be more accurate, it was Julian’s blood which gushed from the bullet hole just above below his clavicle. How strange it felt.

“Coo.” Mr. Punch muttered as Barbara Allen rolled off of him, scrambling to his side.

“Julian!” Barbara screamed. “Julian!”

“I ain’t Julian, Barbara.” Mr. Punch whispered as he heard Julian’s heart beating in his ears. “I’m Mr. Punch, I am.”

“Oh, Arthur,” he heard Ulrika growl. “Can’t you do anything right?”

“Animals!” Barbara screamed.

“That’s no way to talk to your husband.” Arthur chuckled.

Mr. Punch winced as the door screamed open and Iolanthe rushed in, followed by Marie Laveau, Mala and two large men.

“What is all of this?” Iolanthe demanded.

Mr. Punch shut his eyes and felt the pain. Soon, the chaos in the room was replaced with a comforting silence. The darkness was replaced with a gentle, amber light. He saw himself seated in an elegant room, hung with yellow silk drapes and filled with gilt furniture. Julian sat regally in an embroidered fauteuil.

“Come and sit with me, Mr. Punch.” Julian smiled.

“Here, where are we?” Mr. Punch asked as he joined the other half of themselves.

“We’re inside.” Julian answered.

“It’s all yellow like sunshine.” Mr. Punch answered.

“Warm and nice.” Julian nodded.

“Shouldn’t we be out there with the rest of them?” Mr. Punch asked. “I think somethin’s gone wrong.”

“It has,” Julian nodded calmly. “We’ve been shot.”

“Say,” Mr. Punch whistled. “That ain’t so good.”

“No.” Julian shook his head. “All the more reason to rest in here.”

“It’s nice in here.” Mr. Punch nodded. “Is this where you stay when I’m usin’ the body?”

“Yes,” Julian smiled. “This is the room you built for me, dear Punch.”

“I did this?” Mr. Punch looked around.

“You did.”

“Here, I got good taste.” Mr. Punch smiled.

“Yes.”

“You sure I shouldn’t be out there with them?” Mr. Punch frowned. “Seems to me I ought to be there, trying to stay alive.”

“I’m afraid there’s not much we can do.” Julian shrugged. “So, let’s rest. I wish to speak with you anyway. But, first, just rest.”

“Maybe for a minute,” Mr. Punch smiled, shutting his eyes.

When he opened them again, he was still in the phantom room with Julian, however, it had changed from yellow to icy blue.

“It’s different.” Mr. Punch mumbled.

“Yes,” Julian nodded.

“Are we dead?”

“No.” Julian shook his head. “However, now’s the time for us to have our chat.”



Did you miss Chapters 1-151? If so, you can read them here.