Light/Breezes

Light/Breezes
SUNRISE AT DEATH VALLEY-Photo by Tom Cochrun
Showing posts with label Madame Defarge. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Madame Defarge. Show all posts

Thursday, July 14, 2016

Bastille -Throwback Revolution and...

Madame Defarge is not here
   Olea Farms a major olive grower and producer celebrates the owner's French heritage and Bastille Day, July 14, with a gentle gathering amidst the olive trees and an oleander grove.
     A specialty is pomme frites done in their olive oil. They are the center piece of buffet that features locally produced nibbles and snacks, local being the Templeton and Paso Robles area.



    A lovely day and without the zeal and excess that followed original Bastille Day in 1789.
     Liberty, Equality, Fraternity, as was the chant of the French revolution remain noble objectives, but if you recall history things got a bit out of hand.
     Soon after the storming of the Bastille a revengeful blood lust led to the over use of "the national razor which shaves close," the guillotine. 
the incite ap
     Let me incite for a moment. If you recall Charles Dicken's A Tale of Two Cities think of Madame Defarge as a surrogate for Donald Trump. She was full of resentment and enmity toward the royals and the aristocracy and fueled an anger that grew uncontrollable. The symbolism of "the spilling of the wine" for the blood that was to flow. She led and became the symbol of an unlimited hatred and evil. It was the psychology of the "mob rule" personified. 
     Trump may or may not be a racist, bigot and xenophobe. One can make a case either way, but it is clear that his language and "thoughts" fuel racism, bigotry and xenophobia. There is much about him that earns the label of mob leader.
      As noted previously, Trump has rallied a federation of angry people. Not all, but some of that number are racists, losers, many with no appreciation or knowledge of history, nor a respect for diversity. And there are the mouthbreathers, perfect kindling for a mob fire. 
    It would be illuminating to read a Dicken's description of Trump and his followers. Short of that there is Defarge and the mobs of Saint Antoine, and those echoes and footsteps of lurking evil and the night of the shadows.
     We can hope the Dickens classic is not a foreshadowing.  No, we choose to go with the self applied filter and simply enjoy a gentle afternoon in the groves. We forget, selectively, even the struggles of a divided nation at the birth of our own revolution. But we will cast a wary eye on Cleveland, and we will listen to and watch the foot steps from there to November.
     But for now, Cheers !

     See you down the trail.

Monday, July 14, 2014

AND WE AVOIDED THE GUILLOTINE

 MADAME DEFARGE WOULD NOT BE PLEASED
   Oh how the queen of revenge would spin if she knew how so many of us choose to celebrate Bastille Day.
    The celebrants above, Larry, Mary Margret, Tom and Lana, cases in point, have reveled in the delights of France and by some force of nature have been drawn to the American Provence'. But there are limits and so in form from which Madame DeFarge and the Jacques' would recoil as decadent, we civilized the process.  After all who wants to toast the Great Terror which followed the storming of the Bastille?  If you are lost I refer you to either Dicken's Tale of Two Cities, or a precursory read of the French Revolution.  
     Being an artful and adventurous crowd we worked our way into the Paso Robles appellation to take up residence at an Olive Farm with true French management.  Loyal they are to their history, Bastille Day was celebrated with a light feast beneath the spreading Oleander blooms and gracious shade of Olive and Mulberry trees. Wine? Yes. And a never ending supply of Pommes Frites, done in olive oil of course.
      Sun kissed, blessed by breeze, beauty and American oenology, Bastille day was recorded as probably Thomas Jefferson would have appreciated.
     And just to show good form, the merry party meandered to a nearby vintner of Cal-Italia wines.  Salute! A votre sante! Cheers.
       After such international merriment a bit of the breeze along the Cambria coast was a sweet tonic. 
       Liberte', égalité, fraternité!  Noble still, though easier in notion than nation. 
       To history, then….
    
      See you down the trail.