I have continued to research Scots in Canada. They were fur traders and became were wealthy. When beavers nearly disappeared, they became explorers. As fur traders, they founded the North West Company (1779) which competed with the Hudson’s Bay Company (established in 1670). They lived in the Montreal’s Golden Square Mile(mille carré doré) and socialized at the Beaver Club, a gentleman’s dining club, founded in 1785. Later, they moved to Westmount, Montreal. A few senior members married French-Canadian women. The French who had remained in the fur trade after the Conquest were senior members at the Beaver Club. New France had its bourgeoisie and bourgeois remained. Some were Seigneurs. Affluent French-speaking Canadian may have lived in Outremont, a lovely area of Montreal. Until recently, bourgeois French Canadians did not live in Westmount. They lived in lovely homes located in Outremont. I visited relatives in that arrondissement. Their homes were lovely, but their dining-room could not accommodate a hundred guests.
Charles Chaboillez was a wealthy fur trader, but he lost his money. His daughter married James McGill who, in his will, paid his father-in-law’s debts and provided him with an annuity.
The Château Clique is associated with some members of the North West Company, but seigneurs and French bourgeois also belonged to the Château Clique. Fur trading had its classes, and the wealthy are its upper class. The French had been voyageurs and Amerindians were their guides. However, one could be wealthy in New France and Canada without exploiting others. I would not make that generalization.
Most of yesterday’s post was written online. It was quite the adventure. It was published before I had finished writing it. I had a copy in Word, but it was not complete. Moreover, I am not the only person writing my posts. Parts of my posts can be and have been removed by someone else.
Yesterday’s post lacks a formal conclusion, but it is fine as it is. Missing from the post is the name of a Danish scholar and a link to his publication: a booklet.
This morning I added links. One needs a link to Blanche de Castile and Louis IX.
We know that four Bibles moralisées were realized in France in the 13th century and that they constitute paradox literature. You may have noticed the feet of our depiction of Gods. They are nicely depicted if the side of a foot is drawn, but not if the front of the feet is depicted. Dimensionality had not been fully explored when our Bibles were illuminated and it remains somewhat problematical.
On a more personal but interesting note, I would like to tell you that I have recovered from myalgic encephalomyelitis after 44 difficult years. The problem started when I caught a virus in 1976, but ME was not diagnosed until 1991, after I underwent a SPECT scan at Mount Sinaï hospital in Toronto. I was told that my brain was damaged and that I could no longer lead a normal life. I chose to remain intellectually active as a university teacher.
ME disappeared quietly during the last eighteen months to two years. I cannot tell how it went away, but I can tell when my life started to change. It did after a strange three-month flu and voice extinction that triggered advanced emphysema. I had never smoked, not even one cigarette, and I am feeling quite well.
I apologize for rebuilding my post online. It took a long time because older versions would eliminate changes. Life can be strange.
My last post on La Princesse de Clèves was too long. It was shortened by an editor, but the matter of reversible appearances had been removed. It was essential information. I would like the novel to end happily. Both Madame de Clèves and the Duc love one another. But she loves him so much that a betrayal would be devastating.
Ironically, in a digression, the Prince de Clèves says that he would help his wife if she were in love. It is in the Sancerre digression, bridging part one and part two.
This painting by Edouard Manet is so intriguing. Where is the gentleman looking at the young woman?
However, this picture fits my topic. This post was written yesterday and it is about Covid-19. It’s incredible, but Covid remains a major threat. Yesterday, there were 2,641 new cases in the province of Quebec, revealing that some people celebrated Christmas and the New Year. One couldn’t. However, there was no demonstration against sanitary measures. Somehow, that is not the sort of thing Canadians do.
I pity the people of Washington, DC. There was a huge pro-Trump rally, which means that a thousand or thousands of people were infected. I believe they wanted life to be normal, which has been Mr. Trump’s attitude. Life is not normal and the pandemic will not end if strong measures are not taken. We must accept that there is a pandemic and stay safe. What choice do we have? I’m glad I live in Canada.
Despite the new lockdown, efforts are being made to keep street people safe. As I told you, I didn’t vote for Monsieur Legault, but I admire the way he is dealing with the pandemic. However, after ten months, Quebec still sits at the top of the list of Canadian victims, followed closely by Ontario. Many are working from home, and many are considering instituting a universal basic income. As for retired persons, it seems that pension funds are not decreasing. I keep thinking that poverty is at my door, but that is not the case.
My post disappeared. It was my second post on L’Impromptu de Versailles. I cannot explain what happened. Inserting the original French quotations is somewhat difficult because I have to use a PDF version. It is not the copy you see. The PDF version of Molière’s play can be copied easily. However, copying Henri van Laun’s is a challenge. So, a post on Molière can take a full week to build. Building is the correct word.
No I cannot rebuild it today. I copied the text in Word, but something happened. The copy lacks final paragraphs.
It is not as rich a text as the Critique de l’École de femmes, but it is both a théâtre dans le théâtre (a play within a play, in the broadest acceptation of the word) and a mise en abyme. The Russian dolls nestled one inside another is a form of mise en abyme. But if there are two mirrors, one on each side of an object, the result is an eternal abyss, a kaleidoscope. We are about to read La Princesse de Clèves. It contains stories that could be considered mises en abyme.
I’m thinking of Christmas. The Premier wanted to wait until 11 December before allowing or cancelling Christmas, but it has already been cancelled for all red areas of the province. It’s much too dangerous.
I miss my Nova Scotia home. Life is humbler now, and I left friends behind.
I read yesterday that many of the people who travelled and congregated to celebrate Thanksgiving have been infected with the novel coronavirus. I can understand their wish to escape isolation, but Covid-19 is highly contagious and it may be fatal. Did these people have a right to travel and congregate? Staying at home is not easy. I had a moment of sadness so intense that a young man at the bank called the police.
When I spoke to the two officers, I said the truth. I have been in this apartment since early March, my lovely cat died, and I was not fully settled. Boxes of books must be carried out of this apartment, which I believe could present a danger. I may therefore put them in the hallway the day they leave. The boxes are small and have handles.
Moreover, there are a few compensations that one can arrange. On 4 December, I will share a gourmet meal with a neighbour. The meal will be delivered to her in the lobby of the building. She will then separate it and leave my portion at my door. I will pick it up after she has returned to her apartment, two doors down. We will both enjoy the meal. We will not sit together, but is sitting together necessary?
As for Christmas, it is cancelled. Paulina will be at home and so will John. No one will come to my door. But I will remember the Christmases of my childhood and may re-read The Wind in the Willows. People are rediscovering books.
Today I will order a poinsettia and amaryllis. Last year’s amaryllis is growing again, but it may not flower. These flowers will make the apartment look cheerful.
My freedom ends where yours begins…
I have a little rule and will share it again. My freedom ends where yours begins. There have been demonstrations by people who wish to work and live “normally.” We cannot live “normally.” It is too dangerous. The premier, François Legault, was spotted buying a pile of books, wearing a thick mask.
One is tempted to socialize, but gatherings must be at a distance or postponed. There are four vaccines. Canada has developed its own. In due course, we will all be vaccinated, but our current conditions preclude get-togethers. I was crying when the young man from the bank started to talk to me. His orders were to call the police. He did what he had to do and what he did turned me around. There are very good and kind policemen in Sherbrooke, Quebec. When they left, I was fine. I needed a “break.” As for the remedy, another cat, it made sense. I am still meditating, but I’ve heard of a cat named George who was homeless.
As a child, Joseph Haydn was a chorister at Saint-Étienne, in Vienna. However, he spent much of his life at Esterháza, the home of the Esterházy who were Hungarian aristocrats. Mozart performed at Esterháza. I so love this Serenade by Joseph Haydn.
L’Impromptu de Versailles is a play by Molière. None are easy.
I apologize for not posting more frequently. First, someone is reading my posts as I write them. He or she may have the best intentions. Still, I have always worked alone. Although I have read and continue to read books and articles on Molière and insert quotations in learned articles, I usually present a significantly personal analysis of Molière.
It seems, however, that I may henceforth publish shorter posts. Last Wednesday, I tried to do some online banking. However, the company has created a new and safer version of its online tools. I followed the instructions, and a message appeared confirming that all was well. However, I could not log in.
So I phoned the company and waited for a few minutes until someone was available, but I started to cry when a young man answered. Technologies are a genuine obstacle, and technical problems may trigger a vulnerability. At any rate, within a few minutes, two large policemen were inside my apartment. I put on my mask, and we spoke.
I mentioned that my cat had died on 29 November 2019 and that it would soon be a year since he died. Moreover, I had been inside my apartment since March, avoiding the coronavirus. As well, in the space of three years, I had failed to settle in my apartment. Finally, Sherbrooke is now a red zone. One cannot call a carpenter, until a degree of safety has been reached. Who would help during a pandemic?
One of the policemen suggested I adopt a cat, and one offered to remove a heavy box from the hallway. They were good persons. I thanked them because I felt much better. It had been an accident.
One returns to life as usual, a narrower life because of Covid-19, but life.
However, I reflected that in the days of the coronavirus, if a citizen of Sherbrooke, Quebec, feels distraught, his or her best help could be the police. They are available twenty-four hours a day and they make house calls.