Mostrando entradas con la etiqueta tarot cards. Mostrar todas las entradas
Mostrando entradas con la etiqueta tarot cards. Mostrar todas las entradas

miércoles, 24 de diciembre de 2025

SARA BOERO - ANALISI REGINA DELLE NEVI

Che regalo di Natale! <3  <3  <3.  Oggi Sara Boero finalmente analizza la Regina delle Nevi di Andersen!


La mia parte preferita / i miei personaggi preferiti - spero che Sara lo legga:

La mia parte preferita è il quarto capitolo - I miei personaggi preferiti sono il principe e la principessa. Lei è moltissimo intelligente, poliglota (legge tutti i giornali del mondo), ma si sente molto sola e si annoia un sacco. Dunque, come dice Sara qui, lei ha tutto un iter di candidature per trovare marito, un giovane come lei... I due primi giorni tutti i pretendenti sono colpiti dalla síndrome di Stendhal nella sala del trono, ma il terzo giorno (alla fine!) lui trova quello che cercava, un ragazzo estravertito, modesto, umile, che saluta guardie e valletti, che ha anche lui paura di annoiarsi, e, ciliegina sulla torta: "lui non voleva demandare la mano della principessa, ma comprovare la sua intelligenza, e lei piaceva a lui, e lui piaceva anche a lei". Poi sono molto generosi, lasciano a Gerda dormire nella loro reggia, lei riceve in dono provisioni (pan di zenzero e pretzel allo zucchero) e la carrozza, dove "lo stemma del príncipe e della principessa luccicava come una Stella". E Gerda dice "Gli umani ... sono così buoni! (Hvad mennesker ... er gode!)." Poi quando Gerda e Kai ritornano in patria scoprono che principe e principessa sono "viaggiando all'estero" di Luna di miele. Io mi identifico un sacco con questa principessa: intelligente, poliglota, ma a volte annoiata e sola, con questa paura di annoiarmi, cercando sempre Quella Persona. E tuttavia sono anch'io altruista e generosa. 

Buon Natale Sara!!!

Comentario per Sara: Non hai raccontato che alla fine principe e principessa sono all'estero di Luna di miele, il corvo è morto e la cornacchia è vedova. Anche nell'originale non è la Finlandia, ma il Finmark, l'Artico norvegese, con un clima molto più freddo. 

domingo, 18 de mayo de 2025

THE DRAGON, THE RATS, THE HONEY

 Here we have an allegory or parable that has been told since the dawn of times. It appeared first in the Hindu Mahabharata and in the sayings of the Buddha, and made its way westward with the Silk Road. Through the ages, it has been told by grandmothers, Brahmin, Jesuits, Buddhist monks, jesters, teachers, you name it: Here is a Dutch Baroque illustration!

Emblem XLVI, Doot-Kiste voor de Levendige of Sinne-Beelden (Coffin Before the Living, of Emblems).

A traveller lost in the jungle (of life) is pursued by a ferocious beast (here a bear, a fierce bear: no cuddly Winnie the Pooh). The traveller finds themself suspended from a thin branch (or root) high above a pit, where a dragon waits with an open maw, ready to swallow them up. To make things even more complicated, an even number of rats, half of them black half of them white, are cutting the root or branch from which the human character is hanging. Ever tantalizing the human's mouth, there are apples (or honey) within and yet without reach, always on the treetop.

In the Mahabharata, the enemy at surface level (replacing the bear here) is an ogress, or rakshasi in Sanskrit (a common villainess in Eastern tales) but the gist is the same: dragon in the pit, rats (an even number, half black half white) eating away at the branch, honey in the traveller's mouth (in this Sanskrit version, the human hangs upside down, like the Hanged Man in Tarot, "like a ripe jackfruit hanging from its stalk"). The Balavariani version (told by the mentor sage Balavar to the young prince Jehosaphat, ie Latinized Boddhisattva, or Future Buddha) the story is exactly the same but with a wild unicorn (a fierce beast, as much to do with our unicorn piñatas and plushies as the bear in the Dutch version has to do with Winnie the Pooh). The story also appears in the Gesta Romanorum, the collection that supplies the sources for Shakespeare's King Lear, Pericles, and Merchant of Venice, also with a fierce unicorn in the Gesta. Another version, closer to the Mahabharata, is told in the Sanskrit Panchatantra and in its Andalusi version, Calila e Dimna. In nineteenth-century Russia, Tolstoy retold the same story, dragon in the pit and rats and all, even with the drops of honey, in A Confession. Most recently, a Bollywood film in Tamil has revisited the age-old allegory.
The ogress (or beast) at the top and the dragon at the bottom are heavily inspired by Scylla and Charybdis, while the rats and the honey (or fruit) are self explanatory:

The jungle, as we have said before, is life. The monster at surface level, whether ogress, bear, or unicorn, is Death, always on the prowl, and the dragon at the bottom is also Death (compare the Hellmouth of the Passion Play), ready to swallow us all with an open maw. The traveller is trapped between two aspects of Death, ie between Scylla and Charybdis. The branch to which we cling is also life, and that even number of rats (either two, for night and day in general or the Sun and the Moon, four, for the seasons, or 24, for the hours) represent time, the daylight and nighttime moments eating away at our precarious existence. The tantalizing honey or apples are the pleasures or positive emotions, and though the Baroque was a cynical period (Marvell: "the cramp of Hope does tear," "the pestilence of Love does heat," and "Joy's cheerful madness does perplex"), it also supplies a chipper counterpoint of carpe diem, of enjoying these pleasures and positive emotions (the same applies to this very century, but saying YOLO instead of carpe diem), a counterpoint to the allegory of the dragon in the pit and to other broadsides exploring the same themes (the Dance of Death, Death and the Maiden, the Three Quick and Three Dead, etc.)

PS. Western versions, starting with the Balavariani, also say the traveller's feet are resting on four snakes (nagas in Sanskrit, echidnae in Greek) of different colours, these reptiles symbolize the four elements of Nature and the four fluids of the human system (air/blood, fire/choler, earth/melancholy, and water/phlegm). These elemental snakes, however, do not appear in all versions of the allegory.



sábado, 27 de junio de 2020

Prince et Princesse - C'est l'heure des contes... illustrés


Drottningholm, près de Stockholm, Suède




C'est l'heure des contes à Saint-Remy de Provence revient,

Grâce au travail de l'association "C'est l'heure des contes". 
Deux fois par semaine du 2 Juin au 14 Juillet,
Téléchargez, contez, partez et voyagez dans la féérie des contes d'ici et d'ailleurs.


Que nous réserve la "Reine des Neiges" cette fois-ci ? 
Il sera question de "Prince et Princesse" car ... que ... est devenu prince !



C’est l’heure des contes ….illustrés

La Reine des Neiges 
Quatrième Histoire : Prince et Princesse 

Hans Christian Andersen 

Traducteur inconnu

Philippe Schumacher (édition)

(A partir de 6 ans – 16’20’)


- Est-ce qu’il habite chez une princesse ?

Oui, écoute, ...

...

Dans ce royaume où nous sommes habite une princesse d’une intelligence extraordinaire, mais il est vrai qu’elle a lu tous les journaux qui existent au monde (elle a tout oublié du reste), tellement elle est intelligente.



L’autre jour qu’elle était assise sur le trône – ce n’est pas si amusant d’après ce qu’on dit – elle se mit à fredonner une chanson : « Pourquoi ne pas me marier ? » - Tiens cela me donne une idée ! s’écria-t-elle.

Et elle eut envie de se marier, mais elle voulait un mari capable de répondre avec esprit quand on lui parlait, un mari qui ne se contenterait pas d’avoir l’air distingué – car c’est très ennuyeux.

Elle convoqua toutes les dames de la cour et lorsqu’elles eurent entendu de quoi il en retournait, elles furent enchantées. - Cà, çà me plait, dirent-elles, j’y avais déjà pensé.

Chaque mot que je dis est la pure vérité. J'ai une fiancée qui se promène librement dans le château, c’est elle qui m’a tout raconté.





Tout de suite les journaux parurent avec une bordure de cœurs et l’initiale de la princesse.

On y lisait que tout jeune homme de bonne apparence pouvait monter au château et parler à la princesse et, celui qui lui parlerait de façon à ce que l’on comprenne tout de suite qu’il était bien à sa place dans un château, que celui enfin qui parlerait le mieux, la princesse le prendrait pour époux.

Oui ! oui ! tu peux me croire, c’est aussi vrai que me voilà !

Les gens accouraient , quelle foule, quelle presse, mais sans succès le premier, ni le second jour.
- Ils parlaient tous facilement dans la rue, mais quand ils avaient dépassé les grilles du palais, vu les gardes en uniformes brodés d’argent, les laquais en livrée d’or sur les escaliers et les grands salons illuminés, - ils étaient tous déconcertés, ils se tenaient devant le trône où la princesse était assise et ne savaient que dire sinon répéter le dernier mot qu’elle avait prononcé, - et çà elle ne se souciait nullement de l’entendre répéter.

On eût dit que tous ces prétendants avaient avaler du tabac à priser et étaient tombés en léthargie – jusqu’à ce qu’ils se retrouvent dehors, dans la rue, alors ils retrouvaient la parole.

Il y avait queue depuis les portes de la ville jusqu’au château, je l’ai vu moi-même.


Quand ils arrivaient au château, ils avaient faim et soif mais on ne leur offrait même pas un verre d’eau tiède.

Les plus avisés avaient bien apporté des tartines, mais ils ne partageaient pas avec leurs voisins, ils pensaient :
- S’il a l’air affamé, la princesse ne le prendra pas.

- Mais...  Était-il devant tous ces gens-là ?

- Patience, patience, nous y sommes.

- Le troisième jour arriva un petit personnage, sans cheval ni voiture. Il monta d’un pas décidé jusqu’au château, ses yeux brillaient, il avait de beaux cheveux longs, mais ses vêtements étaient bien pauvres.

Il avait un petit sac sur le dos.




Ma fiancée m’a dit que lorsqu’il entra par le grand portail, qu’il vit les gardes en uniforme brodés d’argent, les laquais des escaliers vêtus d’or, il ne fut pas du tout intimidé, il les salua en disant :
- Comme cela doit être ennuyeux de rester sur l’escalier, j’aime mieux entrer.

Les salons étaient brillamment illuminés, les Conseillers particuliers et les Excellences marchaient pieds nus et portaient des plats en or, c’était quelque chose de très imposant.

Il avait des souliers qui craquaient très fort, mais il ne se laissa pas impressionner.

Oui, pour craquer, ils craquaient, mais, plein d’assurance il avança jusque devant la princesse qui était assise sur une perle grande comme une roue de rouet.

Toutes les dames de la cour avec leurs servantes et les servantes de leurs servantes, et tous les chevaliers avec leurs serviteurs et les serviteurs de leurs serviteurs, qui eux-mêmes avaient droit à un petit valet, se tenaient debout tout autour, et plus ils étaient près de la porte, plus ils avaient l’air fier. Le valet du domestique du premier serviteur qui se promène toujours en pantoufles, on ose à peine le regarder tellement il a l’air fier, debout dans la porte.


- Çà doit être affreux. Mais est-ce-que le petit personnage a tout de même eu la princesse ?

- Il a, paraît-il, parlé aussi bien que je parle dans ma langue, c’est ma fiancée qui me l’a dit.
Il était décidé et charmant, il n’était pas du tout venu en prétendant, mais seulement pour juger de l’intelligence de la princesse, et il la trouva remarquable…et elle le trouva très bien aussi.

- Oh ! conduis-... au château…

- C’est vite dit, mais comment ? ...  il faut bien que je ... dise qu’un... ne peut pas entrer là régulièrement.
 - Si, j’irai, ... Quand ... là, il sortira ...
- Attends moi là près de l’escalier ! Elle secoua le tête et s’envola.

Il faisait nuit noire quand ... revient.

Ma fiancée te fais dire mille choses et voici pour ... un petit pain qu’elle a pris à la cuisine. Ils ont assez de pain là-dedans ...
- Il est impossible que tu entres au château – ... – les gardes en argent et les laquais en or ne le permettraient pas, mais ..., tu vas tout de même y aller.
- Ma fiancée connaît un petit escalier dérobé qui conduit à la chambre à coucher et elle sait où elle peut en prendre la clé.

Alors ... s’en allèrent dans le jardin, dans les grandes allées où les feuilles tombaient l’une après l’autre, puis au château où les lumières s’éteignaient l’une après l’autre et ... conduisit ... jusqu’à une petite porte de derrière qui était entrebâillée.




Les voilà dans l’escalier où brûlait une petite lampe sur un buffet, au milieu du parquet se tenait ...

...

- Voulez-vous tenir la lampe, je marcherai devant. Nous irons tout droit, ici nous ne rencontrerons personne ;
- Il me semble que quelqu’un marche juste derrière nous.

Quelque chose passa près d’eux en bruissant, sur les murs glissaient des ombres : chevaux aux crinières flottantes et aux jambes fines, jeunes chasseurs, cavaliers et cavalières.

- Rêves que tout cela. Ils viennent seulement orienter vers la chasse les rêves de nos princes, nous pourrons d’autant mieux les contempler dans leur lit.
- Mais autre chose : si vous entrez en grâce et prenez de l’importance ici, vous montrerez-vous reconnaissante ?

Ils entrèrent dans la première salle tendue de satin rose à grandes fleurs, les rêves les avaient dépassés et couraient si vite que ... ne put apercevoir les hauts personnages.

Les salles se succédaient, l’une plus belle que l’autre, on en était impressionné…et ils arrivèrent à la chambre à coucher.

Le plafond ressemblait à un grand palmier aux feuilles de verre précieux, et au milieu du parquet se trouvaient, accrochés à une tige d’or, deux lits qui ressemblaient à des lis, l’un était blanc et la princesse y était couchée, l’autre était rouge et c’est dans celui-là que ...

... écarta quelques pétales rouges et aperçut une nuque brune.
Les rêves à cheval bruissaient dans la chambre.
Il s’éveilla, tourna la tête vers ...

Le prince ne lui ressemblait que par la nuque, mais il était jeune et beau.

...

- Pauvre petite, s’exclamèrent le prince et la princesse.

Ils louèrent grandement les ..., déclarant qu’ils n’étaient pas du tout fâchés mais qu’ils ne devaient tout de même pas recommencer. Cependant ils voulaient leur donner une récompense.
- Voulez-vous ... librement ? demanda la princesse, ou voulez-vous avoir la charge de ... de la cour, ayant droit à tous les déchets de la cuisine ?

Les deux ... firent la révérence et demandèrent une charge fixe ; ....

Le prince se leva de son lit et permit à ... d’y dormir. Il ne pouvait vraiment faire plus.

...

« Comme il y a des êtres humains ... qui sont bons. »

Le lendemain, on ... vêtit de la tête au pied de soie et de velours, ... fut invitée à rester au château et à couler des jours heureux mais ... demanda seulement une petite voiture attelée d’un cheval et une paire de bottines. ... voulait repartir de par le monde ....

On lui donna de petites bottines et un manchon, on l’habilla à ravir et au moment de partir, un carrosse d’or pur attendait devant la porte.

Les armes du prince et de la princesse y brillaient, cocher, domestiques et postillons – car il y avait aussi des postillons – portaient des livrées brodées de couronnes d’or.



Le prince et la princesse ... firent eux-mêmes monter en voiture et ... souhaitèrent bonne chance.

...



Le carrosse était bourré de craquelins sucrés, de fruits et de pains d’épice.

- Adieu ! Adieu ! criaient le prince et la princesse.

... les premières lieues passèrent aussi, ...

... aussi longtemps que fut en vue la voiture qui rayonnait comme le soleil lui-même.




SUR LES ILLUSTRATIONS QUI J'AI CHOISI

  • La jeune lectrice vient du livre "Frauen, die lesen, sind gefährlich."
  • L'initiale est celle de J.S. Bach.
  • Le château est toujours Drottningholm, en Suède.
  • Le carrosse doré appartient aussi à la Couronne suédoise.
  • Les tarots sont de l'Aquarian Tarot.
  • L'illustration qui montre le petit personnage en entrant dans la salle du trône et en avançant jusque devant la princesse est "At the Court" de Christian Birmingham.
  • Les pains d'épice sont d'une photo faite en Bavière.
Merci beaucoup!

Bientôt je vais détailler ce qui passe au carosse et à cocher, domestique et postillons... ça sera après vendredi prochain, le 3 juillet!

lunes, 24 de diciembre de 2018

The Six of Cups - SNOW QUEEN RETELLING

The Six of Cups

Work Text:

“What are you looking for?” Mrs. Heks asked. I turned to face her, tearing my eyes away from a stuffed crow. The scent of lavender hit me like a bus, making my eyes water.
“Excuse me?” I raised an eyebrow.
“Nobody comes here unless they’re looking for something.” She blew out a puff of smoke, and I wrinkled my nose as the smell mixed with her floral perfume. “Or someone.” I rolled my eyes. Her greying hair was tied in a loose braid that dangled to her waist. A quartz necklace dangled from a rusty chain around the fortune-teller’s neck, matching the crystal beads that decorated the string on her glasses. Mrs. Heks was wearing a large, floral apron with too many pockets to count. When I finally made eye contact, she was staring at me over her half-moon glasses. I stammered out a response.
“I don’t actually believe in any of...” I gestured to the pendulums dangling in the window, the purple tablecloth, and the scent diffuser humming merrily in the corner of the room.
“...This.” I finished. The fortune-teller laughed, sitting down across from me.
“Most people don’t, sweetheart.” Mrs. Heks slid a cup of tea towards me. “But you’re still here.” I shrugged, and took a long sip of mint and lemongrass.
“But I’m not here for a reading.” I flipped open my badge, being careful to cover my name. “I hear you hired someone recently. A young man, early twenties with blond hair.”
The fortune-teller froze. I imagined Tanya’s disappointed face, and a wave of guilt washed over me.
It’s not illegal to show people my badge, and I’m not forcing her to answer anything. I thought. My partner’s face didn’t change, so I pushed the image aside.
“A man matching that description has been spotted in the area named Kai Drengis. Did you hire him?” Mrs. Heks raised an eyebrow.
“Is Mr. Drengis in some sort of trouble?” she asked.
“That’s confidential.” I mutter. Mrs Heks shrugged.
“Then I don’t know Cael.”
“Kai.”
“Right.” Mrs. Heks didn’t expand, so I scanned the store.
The stuffed crow was directly across the room from me, its beady eyes following me as I moved my head back and forth. Heavy drapes covered the windows; the only light coming from old, twisted candles scattered throughout the small room. Jars of different herbs were crammed onto bookcases with books marked in a language that looked like Latin. I looked back to the other woman in the room.
Mrs. Heks was smiling as I met her gaze, blowing out another ring of smoke
“You aren’t supposed to smoke inside.” I protested weakly. The fortune-teller ignored me, humming a short tune as she pulled a deck of cards out of one of her many pockets. My heart sunk.
“Ma’am, I don’t have time for-” She shot me a glare, and I fell silent. The fortune-teller began to shuffle, and then she spoke.
“There is a lot of blue-eyed, blond young men in this town, including my son. And this isn’t the first time I’ve seen an officer in my shop.” She cut the deck into three, and gestured to the table. “Choose.”
“I’m not here for a reading.” I insisted. “I just need to know if you have seen Kay Drengis.” Mrs. Heks paused, and raised an eyebrow.
“You made an appointment. You’re still getting charged for this, so you might as well humour me.” She waved at the cards. With a sigh, I flipped a card from the first deck.
“Your first card is the Queen of Swords, upright.” The fortune-teller tapped the table in thought.
“It’s just a card.” I grumbled. “And it won’t help me find Kai.” But as I said this, I examined the picture. The painted queen looked like she was in the middle of a battle, her face frozen in a snarl. She held a white sword, snow swirling around her tense figure.
“She represents intelligence and perception. You will need both in your challenges.” Mrs. Heks pushed her glasses up her nose, a strange look in her eyes. I shivered, then drew from the second deck. Her eyes went wide.
“Ooh, this is interesting! The Hermit, reversed.” On the card stood an old woman, standing alone in an overgrown garden. She kneeled before a single rose, face buried in her hands.
“You’ve withdrawn from those who love and care about you. Maybe you haven’t noticed, or maybe you’re aware of the loneliness. Either way, you need to remember to make time for the ones you love.” I thought to my grandmother, alone in my childhood home, but I pushed the thought aside and met Mrs. Heks’ gaze. The strange look had returned.
“What?” I asked, but she shook her head and gestured to the third deck, not meeting my gaze. I hesitated, then flipped the final card.
“The Six of Cups, upright.” Mrs. Heks announced. I glanced at the painting, and my breath caught in my chest. The card featured a young girl and a boy, sitting next to a window-box full of roses. The little boy was staring out from the card, his icy blue eyes an exact match to what I remembered of Kai.
“This card represents nostalgia and naive happiness.” The fortune-teller looked at me over the frames of her glasses. “It can also signal a reunion with someone from the past.” I look back to the card, shoulders tensing. “I did the reading, now will you help me?”
“I thought I already did.” the fortune-teller grumbled. She looked me up and down.
“I sell protective charms upstairs, if you need them.”
“I think I’ll manage.” I grumbled. “Do you know where I can find Kay or not?”
After a moment’s pause, she sighed.
“Fine.” Mrs. Heks stood, and left the room. As soon as she was out of eyesight, I pulled out a wrinkled photo from beneath my badge. I sat on the left, my arm slung around Kay’s shoulders. We were both covered in dirt, a messy flower planter in front of us. My heart pounding, I picked up the Six of Cups. The boy on the card was identical to Kay. I coughed, trying to clear the lump forming in my throat as I put the photo away. Just as I lowered it, Mrs. Heks bustled back into the room.
“You know him personally, don’t you?” she asked, looking me up and down.
“What makes you say that?” I drummed my fingers on the table, and Mrs. Heks cracked a smile.
“You call him by his first name. The officers who came before you were much more formal when discussing suspects.” She took a sip from her own cup of tea. “I bet your superiors wouldn’t be happy with you using federal resources to track down a childhood playmate, would they?” I dropped my mug. Cursing under my breath, I reached down to pick up pottery shards as Mrs. Heks chuckled.
“Relax, I won’t report you.” Mrs. Heks grinned, passing me a towel. “I wouldn’t know where to start.” She slid a business card to me across the table. Once I dropped the towel onto the puddle, I looked the card over.
Dronning Law & Associates
Heidi Dronning
011-45-1364-5008
“He moved in with Ms. Dronning about eight, maybe nine years ago. He’s her foster son.” Mrs. Heks scowled at this.
“Not a fan?” I asked, dropping the last shards of mug onto the table. Mrs. Heks hesitated, then nodded.
“She’s not the easiest to get along with.” she said simply. “A bit too cold-hearted, if you ask me.” My gaze caught on the Queen of Swords. “Kai was a quiet kid as a child, and he’s an even quieter adult. Whatever you think he did…” Mrs. Heks glared at me above her wiry glasses. “He’s a good man.”
“He’s not in trouble!” I reassured, setting the mug down. “I just need to talk to him.” The fortune-teller nodded slowly, but her eyes were still narrowed.
“How well do you know Kai?” I asked casually. Mrs. Heks shrugged.
“He used to help me unload boxes for my shop, and he used to play with my son, Liam.” She tapped the card thoughtfully. “He didn’t share my beliefs either, but he was always respectful, and willing to learn.” I nodded slowly, giving the painted Kai a final glance. After a moment’s hesitation, I flipped it facedown.
“Thanks for your help.” My voice was quieter than I expected.
“Leave the payment on the table.” Mrs. Heks ordered. I slapped a twenty on the table, and Mrs. Heks started to clear the table. As I was leaving, Mrs. Heks cleared her throat.
“I hope you know what you’re doing, little Gerda.” The fortune-teller chuckled. “Your challenges are only just beginning.” I spun to face her, my blood running cold.
“How do you know my...” My sentence trailed off. The fortune-teller was gone.

lunes, 10 de septiembre de 2018

PERSONA RAGNARÖK (LES MIS AU)

So I thought... Persona Les Mis AU much? With a boarding school setting and a Norse myth theme, to boot? Like, all the Friends of the ABC representing deities who are fated to die at Ragnarök, and Marius and Cosette as the survivors, Liv and Lifthrasir?
And then I thought... why not?

Líf ok Lifþrasir, 
en þau leynaz muno 
í holti Hoddmímis; 
morgindöggvar 
þau sér at mat hafa; 
þaðan af aldir alaz.  


(Liv and Lifthrasir
will lie concealed
in the grove of Mimer;
the morning dew
will be their food,
from them generations will spring.)

Se så! nu begynder vi. Når vi er ved enden af historien, ved vi mere, end vi nu ved...

(Allons-y! Let us begin. And, when we have reached the end of the story, we shall know more than we already know...)


PERSONA RAGNARÖK
An overview of leading characters, their Arcana and Personae


Enjolras - Arcana: The Star, Personae: Frey-Freya (two personae, one offensive and one defensive)
Combeferre - Arcana: The Hierophant, Persona: Odin
Courfeyrac - Arcana: The Chariot, Persona: Thor
Jehan Prouvaire - Arcana: The Empress, Persona: Idun
Jolllly - Arcana: The High Priestess, Persona: Eira
"Lesgle" Bossuet - Arcana: The Magician, Persona: Kvasir
Bahorel - Arcana: Justice, Persona: Tyr
Feuilly - Arcana: Strength, Persona: Skadi
Grantaire - Arcana: Judgement, Persona: Heimdall
***********************************
Gavroche Thénardier - Arcana: The Sun, Persona: Magni
Éponine Thénardier - Arcana: The Hanged One, Persona: Loki
Montparnasse - Arcana: The Tower, Persona: Surt
***********************************
"Ultime Fauchelevent" Jean Valjean - Arcana: The Hermit, Persona: Mimer
Marius Pontmercy - Arcana: The Fool, Persona: Lifthrasir
Cosette Fauchelevent - Arcana: The World, Persona: Liv


*****

Der sad de begge to voksne og dog børn, børn i hjertet, og det var sommer, den varme, velsignede sommer.

(There sat both of them as adults and yet children, children at heart; and it was summer, warm, blessed summer.)



jueves, 21 de diciembre de 2017

ONCE UPON 24 TIMES: STORY XXI

Story the Twenty-First:
Nine of Wands -
The Flying Ship - Le Chevalier Fortuné
The Fool's Errand (Steampunk AU?)

Alice/stair - the crossdressing shero - Lieutenant of the military who lost the war
the gifted men did not get drafted because of their powers - regarded now as "assets"
Herr Cules - super strong lumberjack, uproots trees as if they were carrots and carries them to the lumbermill as easily
Swift/y (more surely Skimbleshanks) - super fast railway guard, able to catch moving trains on foot, needs lead weights and tying up his legs like a four (4) to walk
Deadeye (Name left unchanged) - one-eyed sniper with a sun-monocle, violet eye, superb marksmanship - shot the duck at the head of a V formation right between the eyes (female?)
the herbalist who hears the grass grow and wears an ushanka with earmuffs on top (female/child of either gender?)
the one with super lung power - powers wind-powered mills and is an exceedingly loud talker
the exceedingly deep quaffer, who gets drunk as easily as his thirst is quenched (ie rarely)


COMMENTARIES
There are many versions of the tale (type ...) but the ones that have influenced me the most here have been The Fool of the World, from Slavic lore, from which I took the airship; and the French Chevalier Fortuné (or Fortunio), by Madame d'Aulnoy, from which I took the bifauxnen shero. The leading character Alice-stair's backstory is taken from both Brave (the Pixar film) and the life of Queen Christina (I just wanted a single-mum household for this tale). Alice being raised as Alistair for want of a male heir also recalls bifauxnen anime series like La Rose de Versailles.
The articles from both the Usurper's Journal and the Soothly Quibble are a satire of right-wing and left-wing press respectively

viernes, 8 de diciembre de 2017

ONCE UPON 24 TIMES: STORY VIII

Story the Eighth:
XII - Entrapment (The Hanged One)
Rapunzel

Reaching down for that freedom
Awaiting, her golden hair
Pulsating to the rhythm of her heart,
Untainted by the outside world;
Not knowing yet of the clash of her
Zeal with social constraints;
Enticing, thus, her return
Locked within that ivory tower...

sábado, 2 de diciembre de 2017

ONCE UPON 24 TIMES... THE TWO FIRST ENTRIES

This Advent calendar will be a series of original fairytale fics and poetry, inspired by a fairytale tarot.
Since it's the 2nd today, you will have today's and yesterday's tale in the first batch.
The sorting will be an easy affair; I will do it with my eyes shut and move the mouse all over the fairytale tarot album on my FB, then stop. Where it rests, that will be the fairytale that will inspire the story or poem of the day. As the week goes on, more and more tales will be discarded...
Here are some spoilers:
*The Little Mermaid will be retold in abstract terms, like a Pugh Rogefeldt song, from the prince's POV --the heroine is called Éponine and the fiancée is Joline; referencing both Les Mis and Dolly Parton--. (Joline in my heart, Éponine on my mind... the fear that, in loving, I have been unkind...)
*Red Riding Hood will be the Finta Nonna, the original tale I blogged in Miss Dermark's Dirtiest Stories; macabre Eucharist and all!
*Snow White will be the Slavic version with the seven bogatyrs --and a Yuuri on Ice AU, with Czarevich Viktor and foreign tavern boy Yuuri; and evil Czarina Lilia!
*Rumplestiltskin will be a Tyrionsa story set at the Red Keep and pretty close to canon --Spinning Copper into Gold--, for which there already is a bunny since I took the plunge into Westeros
*A Slavic story of an ice maiden and a fire boy will be a superb Lyaegar AU, with some Ramayana overtones (or rather Ravanayana, for the enemy was no bloodthirsty ten-headed rakshasa, but an enlightened ruler; history is written by the winners) and those of a superb French film called Les enfants de la pluie (another one I recommend): The true story of the damsel and the dragon. Quenched and Thawed
*Peter Pan and The Flying Ship will get mashed up as a Ship of Lost Souls full of young people in steampunk skies, with Petyr(onella) Paan as the captain...
*Rapunzel will be autobiographical, with the blond maiden and her ivory tower full of cannons and a star fort as a metaphor for my own childhood and adolescence in isolation, first imposed by my elders, then self-imposed...

Anyway, on to the advent calendar itself! Let us begin, and when we reach Christmas Eve, we shall know so much more than we already know! There are 24 rabbit holes to explore as this month goes on, so are you ready to take the two first plunges?

Story the First:
Princess of Wands (Page of Wands) -
MESSYHEAD/KATE CRACKERNUTS (LURVEHÄTTA)
Arya is afoot again.
They've searched all over Winterfell, far and wide, high and low, left and right...
Indeed, Sansa wonders how this little hoyden can be her sister, with those messy dark braids, those tattered breeches, the hands of a blacksmith, that tendency to write with the left hand, and more inclination for straddling a pony or sparring with the lads.
Sansa, the prim and proper lady, full of grace, reddish hair perfectly sleek, perfectly ironed azure silks to fit the colour of her eyes, skill in music and the fine arts, is far more Tully than Stark.
After a few hours, they find her half on all fours in a corner of the courtyard, Bran helping the poor thing to get back up again, but the young girl shrugging her brother's attempt aside. Maester Luwin washes those bloody, scraped knees as Arya steels herself not to wince. Sansa just looks aside, daydreaming about ballrooms and right-hand-kissing.
The next day, it's Sansa herself who is missing at the breakfast table... and that in spite of her favourite, lemoncakes, having been freshly baked.
For a quarter only has her older sister tarried, when Arya storms upstairs with a tray of three lemoncakes in her right palm, a little clenched left fist rapping vigorously on Sansa's door.
KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK and the scent of lemoncakes. The door opens merely ajar, Sansa reaching out for a cake. A single cyan right eye, like a forget-me-not, looks slightly teary.
She lets Arya in. Tense at feeling that little Messyhead Crackernuts may upset her perfectly folded bedsheets, the wardrobe full of perfectly-placed ensembles next to the dressing table with the mirror above, and the string instruments in the music corner, and even stain the flowered tapestry on the floor --everything is just right, the Sansa way (for she does everything right), the way it should be...
...except Sansa herself. A pocket of pus the size of a pea mars the left wing of her nose. It makes her wince ever since before she saw its poison-green tinge in the mirror. Ever since the sharp pain has woken her up this morning.
Stuffing her mouth full of lemoncake in quite an unladylike manner, she turns her back to her sister and fidgets with her head sunken in thought. She will not even come down to see her friends, parents, and siblings, or to have Luwin tend to her...
"Trust me, sis!" Arya's left hand vigorously slaps her on the back. Sansa turns around. Arya smiles a wistful smile, that broken incisor that makes her look even cheekier comes to view. She saunters to the dressing table and takes up a sewing needle, then, straddling her sister's lap, pierces the pocket of pus and squeezes as strong as she can.
Blood and pus ooze out as Sansa screams like a banshee, her eyes clouded with tears, as Arya pins the needle to her sleeve. "Luwin will have to boil this needle clean."
In normal circumstances, Sansa would have dried up her tears and stanched the blood on a handkerchief. However, now she clasps her little sister and uses Arya's messy dark hair to cleanse herself of these fluids, no matter how unclean those half-undone braids may be.
"Thank... you... Arya..." the elder Stark girl sobs thankfully, as the younger one nestles in her soft royal blue skirt.

_____________________________________________________________

Story the Second:
Nine of Cups
SALMACIS AND HERMAPHRODITUS
I was always the odd one out
I only had a shawl for a clue
alone among all of my kindred
in the end, the yearning was too strong
liquid mirror, who's the fairest one of all?
I've walked through ice and fire, through storm and flood
but I still haven't found what I seek
but I still haven't sought what to find
a sprig of lavender would be nice in my hair
my head swims, my throat's seared, flames dance before my eyes
this clump of lavender bushes will be fine, won't it?
the sound of rushing freshwater smites upon my ears
braiding, with lithe and gentle fingers, these scented stalks
I bend the knees, cup both my hands, and quaff liquid crystal
the corsage fits my right wrist perfectly
it tastes like this refreshing spearmint, that grows all around
gulp, gulp, there must be a thirsty stranger at the spring
coursing down my throat, this draught quenches the inner flame
a stripling or a maiden? A young person, seen from behind...
splashing on my face, the perspiration is washed off
I tie my hair back in a golden sun of a chignon
now a rest in the shade until the afternoon falls
those sharp features... that dark shade on his lip... it's a he!!
the chirp of cicadas lulls me off to sleep
Now I stand right before you; you're in for a surprise!
GASP!!
Fair stranger, I have been waiting for you!!
She's popped up like a traitor, without forewarning!!
If not as a sweetheart, as a sister or a friend...
Flustered, I turn my head to the left as she clasps me!
At least I've kissed his right cheekbone! Shy pretty boy...
L-leave me al-lone, or I will l-l-leave this pl-lace!
He turns to the pond, not seeing me saunter behind him...
At last alone... ready to have a swim in peace...
this mastic bush provides the perfect hiding place to watch
my right foot, refreshed, shivers pleasantly; the left one plunges in
now he casts off his cloak... such dazzling white shoulder blades!
undressed, I wade until I stand up to the waist
his shapely legs cleave the water like a frog's
so free and so fresh I have never felt on land
this blaze sears me like a raisin in the sun
so fresh and so free I have never felt on land
only he can quench my insides, that no longer can hold this flame...
even the remembrance of my quest has dissolved
I WIN!!
she clasps me around the waist, plunging me underwater
he kicks, and writhes; I hold him even tighter
my lips are sealed to keep precious air within me
his shut lips constantly turn away from mine
at last all my limbs falter, my lips part, my lungs are flooded...
precious diamonds of air rise to the surface as he grows pale...
is this the way things should end?
is this the way things should end?
I make a wish to live through this icy, liquid darkness
I make a wish to give my own life to save his own
and the wish comes true, indeed
and the wish comes true, of course
both male and female, both dead and alive, and neither
both female and male, both alive and dead, and neither
and all who touch this spring may share our fate
and all who touch this spring will share our fate

_____________________________________________________

ANNOTATIONS:
Messyhead/Lurvehätta/Kate Crackernuts is a fairytale that is very rarely heard of, type 711. It concerns two sisters (usually royalty), one of them a prim and proper lady, the other one a tomboy to a higher or lesser degree (Lurvehätta, a fiery redhead who rides a billy goat in what is more than just Thor cosplay, actually surpasses Kate in badassery, pluck, and sheroism, having hunted trolls for a few years, before the story proper unfurls). When her more feminine sister gets enchanted with a curse that mars her appearance, Lurvehätta/Kate goes on a quest to confront the creatures of the night who cast the curse and save her sister's looks. (Of course she wins!)
Needless (Needleless!) to say a fluffy Arya*Sansa story would fit this premise to a T.
A retelling of this tale type I recommend is Lavanya and Deepika, from Demeter's Spicebox/Delinquent Spice (Lavanya is the tomboy/odd child, and Deepika the proper one; their mother a barren warrior queen conceived them through enchantment, and the sisters get each one a shoe from the same pair, the left and the right, for protection as a symbol of their union).

martes, 24 de octubre de 2017

TAROT - HORSESHOE SPREAD - RENTRÉE UV

Horseshoe Spread
24th of October, MMXVII
On the Eve of:
Rentrée - Master's Degree in Creative Translation - University of Valencia

1) Forces In Favour: XIII Transfiguration (Death). Change, of the life-changing kind. Metamorphosis: Coming of age, passage from Castellón to Valencia and from Bachelor's to Master's Degree.
2) Forces Against: King of Swords. Authority on the Intellectual Plane. The UV establishment? Surely. A centuries-old, renowned, illustrious institution with whose establishment my stubborn self may clash.
3) Resources to Encourage Forces in Favour: Six of Swords. The passage of the Styx (Charon, Urshanabi) - transition. Murky waters astern, but calm waters ahead. Keep looking forwards, instead of over your shoulder. It will be all right on the other shore.
4) Resources to Overcome Forces Against: XVI The Tower. Revolution. Downfall that brings about something good, overturning the old order. Razing the established structures. The fall of the Bastille... Right, this is the big leagues, so the rules of young adulthood of the past lustrum are becoming obsolete. Time to storm the inner Bastille and get serious.
5) Turning Point: Eight of Cups. Turning one's back to the old and setting off on a quest for the new, for what is missing. Into the great unknown where there are dragons and where angels fear to tread.

Conclusion:
Great changes straight ahead. Keep moving forwards and never look back as you tread this new uncharted region. You're not in Castellón anymore...

domingo, 1 de enero de 2017

2017 - WHAT WILL THIS YEAR BRING?

2016 HAS BEEN LIKE RIDING A ROLLER COASTER.

WE KNEW FOR SURE THAT
THERE WOULD BE OLYMPICS IN RIO,
AN EXTRA DAY IN FEBRUARY,
AND THE ANNIVERSARY OF THE BARD AND CERVANTES.

WE DIDN'T KNOW A RUG-WEARING DUCK WOULD SHATTER OUR EXPECTATIONS.
SERIOUSLY. KEPT OUR FINGERS CROSSED FOR HILLARY... THEN. WHAM.
OR THAT WE'D LOSE A BLACK STAR, A HEFTY BUD, A SCHOLAR IN THE NAME OF THE ROSE, A YOUNG GUN, PRINCESS LEIA... FOREVER.
VALAR MORGHULIS.

WHAT NEXT?
FROM THE FIRE MONKEY TO...

THE FIRE ROOSTER,
WHICH IS ALSO (CONVENIENTLY) A POKÉMON (BLAZIKEN).

THIS YEAR 2017 WILL BRING:
THE CENTENNIAL OF SPANISH CHILDREN'S POET GLORIA FUERTES
AND OF THE APPARITIONS OF OUR LADY OF FÁTIMA.
ASIDE FROM TRACY CHEVALIER'S PRIMARY-SCHOOL OTHELLO,
THE LIVE-ACTION BEAUTY AND THE BEAST MUSICAL,
AND (MAYBE?) THE WINDS OF WINTER (FINGERS STILL CROSSED).
GODS KNOW WHAT ELSE...

MAYBE THIS CARD SPREAD WILL SHED SOME LIGHT.

viernes, 23 de diciembre de 2016

THE CROWN OF TWELVE STARS

The Crown of Twelve Stars


Disclaimer: This is an analysis of the EU symbol according to my own opinion.

The heart chakra is green; the colours of the European Union's visual symbol make up green, a neutral colour made by combining deep blue and golden yellow, impulse and reason, power and knowledge, fire and ice, as one. The concordia discors of two complementary halves of a whole becoming one. Lava quenched by water becoming fertile soil, as fiery golden and icy blue become life-giving, hopeful green. This may, to put an easy example, stand for the Protestant North and the Catholic South joined together: not the discourse of power or that of knowledge, but both of them united as the discourse of LOVE. No longer ruled by one's gut or one's mind, but by one's heart. Returning to the blissful state of children at heart, before the trappings of either logic/reason or so-called serious fun, or both, corrupt our souls. Finding the middle way rather than the far left or far right, both equally destructive.
Furthermore, this fourth chakra of love is represented as a twelve-petalled green flower containing a Star of David. Not only does the Crown obviously encompass twelve stars arranged in a circle at equal length, but these can be connected to make a star dodecagon pattern composed of two overlapping Stars of David.
No matter how many the member states, the stars will always be twelve, a symbol of perfection and fulfillment. There are and were twelve Olympians, twelve disciples, twelve zodiac signs, twelve months... and even chicken eggs are sold by the dozen and/or half dozen.
The sixth card of the Major Arcana, The Lovers, closes a circle. So does the twelfth card, The Hanged One. The former deals with the theme of choices, emotions, and free will; the latter with that of sacrifice, staying true to oneself, and a worldview U-turn. Both of these thematic constellations coincidentally mirror one another.
The unstruck or innocent chakra is ruled by Venus, which is represented by, among other symbols, the pentacle (the usual child's "star" or "starfish" five-pointed shape). All twelve stars of the Crown are such pentacles. Furthermore, the sephirah of Venus is Netzach, Victory (for more info see Venere splende!, my article on Othello as the symbolic story of the breaking and reforging of relational bonds), Victory over "was die Mode streng geteilt", not wrought by brute force or by calculating scheming, but rather by affectionate sharing and linkage/connection.
The Crown of Twelve Stars represents the metaphysical heart, the eye of the storm, the concord of the diverse. We always have this "unstruck, unhurt, innocent" part of us that we can return to, even in the midst of our troubles.

miércoles, 17 de febrero de 2016

IDIOMS EXPLAINED 1: ACH DU GRÜNE NEUNE!

ACH DU GRÜNE NEUNE!

Language: German
Literal Meaning: Oh, you green nine!
Figurative meaning: Curses! What a misfortune! An exclamation of anger or other negative emotion.

Origins:
 
The Nine of Swords is one of the most negative cards on Tarot. It stands for cruelty, pain, despair... suffering, depression... the demons in our minds...

Its Anglo-French counterpart is the Nine of Spades, which in German cards becomes the Green Nine, so called because the suit equivalent to swords/spades is represented by (linden or ivy) leaves.

Nine of Spades/Green in the Battle of Leipzig deck, made both French- and German-suited to commemorate the engagement in the Napoleonic Wars.

Nine of Green from a traditional German deck.

lunes, 27 de octubre de 2014

IF YOU ARE, YOU BREATHE

If you are, you breathe. 


If you breathe, you talk.


If you talk, you ask. 

If you ask, you think.

If you think, you search. 


If you search, you experience.


If you experience, you learn. 



If you learn, you grow. 


If you grow, you wish. 

If you wish, you find. 


And if you find, you doubt. 

If you doubt, you question. 

If you question, you understand. 


And if you understand, you know. 


If you know, you want to know more. 

If you want to know more... then, you are alive.