Welcome to European Tribune. It's gone a bit quiet around here these days, but it's still going.

Gone with the windmill - the saga resumes with poll

by Agnes a Paris Wed Nov 22nd, 2006 at 07:00:27 PM EST

Update [2006-11-23 4:47:53 by Agnes a Paris]: Not having been around for quite a while, I've had second thoughts about the relevancy of the windmill romance for ET's editorial line, so I have inserted a poll. Frankness welcome. For those who remember, I thought that was the best I could do for my comeback.
D. and N. liven up from the archives for new bewitchingly sensual and ruthlessly tragic adventures. If they live up to my ambition their commanding characters will raise emotionality like steam off this e-page.

Links to previous chapters
Chapter nine part 2

Chapter nine part 1

subsequent links then embedded in each of the previous chapters.


Hesitantly, N. made her way towards D. through the compact crowd surrounding the Palais Garnier plaza in Paris. The lights of the Opera house shimmered in the misty air of the cold November rain and despite the early afternoon hours it was almost dark.
Weary of people staring N. had long taken to the habit of wearing shades in public places. She had been feeling at her most vulnerable lately, and shades were helpful indeed to avoid the distress in her eyes leaking out and stirring speculations on what was going on with her.
Why did she pull out of the race for presidential elections at the very moment when she was trading so high in polls, D. left far behind by the revelations about his private life, his Russian wife G and their children.
France was turning into a media-fuelled democracy for good, with candidates not expected to shield their family, as family belonged to the public, was part of the image.
D. had come up as single, ascetic, had built this almost puritanical image of the man dedicated to his mission since the very beginning of his skyscraping ascension to the top where his blasting success had shaken the foundations of the business tycoons community.
People would buy any electoral program provided they can follow the feuilleton of their favorite celeb'. D. had an impressive political agenda, truly innovative but not revolutionary in a disturbing way, reassuring but original. Withholding his privacy from the public had outweighed his ideas, and the people were not going to let him get away with that.

 D. was at her before she had the time to pull the shades away to look at him and he gently took them off her face, his finger lightly brushing her check in the most accidental but sweetest stroke.
Here they were, looking deeply, hungrily, into each other's eyes as to try and reach beneath, to the bones and soul. They had not met for months, let alone face to face.

Time had passed. Yet he still had the same ravaging anxiety about her, like he alone could sense the frailty under the shield of the public image, the winning smile she had always displayed.
From the very first time they had met on that night ferry from Dover to Calais and she was shivering in her long trench coat, him vying for her attention, uncertain what more intoxicating to him of the blend of Yves St Laurent's Opium or her breath when she whispered for him to hear over the fury of the tempestuous sea, he had felt compelled to her, summoned to protect her.
A drive more imperious than his unrelenting desire for her, more persistent than subsequent rivalry when they'd had to work hand in hand in the financial empire fostered by Marcello Donough Ferrero, more powerful than the forces tearing them apart.
Only he could look into the abysses of despair she would at times dive into, falling from her highest height, and haul her back to the world of the living.

Almost painfully thin, she looked brittle as crystal, and surprisingly tiny, her broken ankle making her wobble, distorting the catwalk sashay that had been part of her self since her modelling years. At a bare six feet, stilettos had been an extension of her figure for so long that she swayed even in the flat shoes, like a tree in the cold breeze of that grey afternoon. Her face was as pale as a porcelain vase about to crumple.
Yet the spell between the two of them was intact, and this unspoken vow of his unbroken. She had appeared for him to protect and yet when his gaze lowered from her eyes to her lips, he could have forgotten her frailty, his principles, the past and the future mixing up in the longing for the taste of her lips he could never shake, all these restless nights spent dreaming she was asleep next to him and the ghastly bewildered awakenings to find out she was not there, would never be.

The crowd disappeared and suddenly there was only the two of them, again. It would be so simple, the ravishing taste of bliss only half an inch away.

Poll
Putting the windmills off power ?
. Yes, we need only serious stuff 0%
. Yes, the style of writing is crap <s> 10%
. No, please go ahead, we wish to know what comes next 90%

Votes: 10
Results | Other Polls
Display:
And death shall have no dominion.
Dead mean naked they shall be one
With the man in the wind and the west moon;
When their bones are picked clean and the clen bones gone,
They shall have stars at elbow and foot;
Though they go mad they shall be sane,
Though they sink through the sea they shall rise again;
Though lovers be lost love shall not;
And death shall have no dominion.

And death shall have no dominion.
Under the windings of the sea
They lying long shall not die windily;
Twisting on racks when sinews give way,
Strapped to a wheel, yet they shall not break;
Faith in their hands shall snap in two,
And the unicorn evils run them through;
Split all ends up they shan't crack;
And death shall have no dominion.

And death shall have no dominion.
No more may gulls cry at their ears
Or waves break loud on the seashores;
Where blew a flower may a flower no more
Lift its head to the blows of the rain;
Through they be mad and dead as nails,
Heads of the characters hammer through daisies;
Break in the sun till the sun breaks down,
And death shall have no dominion.

Dylan Thomas

When through hell, just keep going. W. Churchill

by Agnes a Paris on Wed Nov 22nd, 2006 at 07:51:14 PM EST
I love that poem. You're not becoming Welsh by any chance, Agnes?
by afew (afew(a in a circle)eurotrib_dot_com) on Thu Nov 23rd, 2006 at 02:02:32 PM EST
[ Parent ]
Not that I knew of. What I am definitely not becoming is less oversensitive...;-)

When through hell, just keep going. W. Churchill
by Agnes a Paris on Thu Nov 23rd, 2006 at 05:08:27 PM EST
[ Parent ]
 D. and N. shall live their lives in my imagination only. No need to spam ET.

When through hell, just keep going. W. Churchill
by Agnes a Paris on Thu Nov 23rd, 2006 at 11:39:20 AM EST
You know Agnes, it seems that patience is still not your forte. :-) There is not always enough time available to read everything right away and don't forget for some people who came to ET after you took a break you are a newcomer and they do not know what this saga is all about. So give people a little time to get into this, I am sure they will enjoy it.
by Fran on Thu Nov 23rd, 2006 at 03:59:11 PM EST
[ Parent ]
A newcomer ???... shall I understand that what I wrote during nine months before I left means nothing and coming back is starting from scratch ???

When through hell, just keep going. W. Churchill
by Agnes a Paris on Thu Nov 23rd, 2006 at 05:14:45 PM EST
[ Parent ]
It just means there are 9 months' worth of new (now regular) users who don't know what this is all about. To us dinosaurs with user ids below 1000 you're not a newcomer, but we have almost 2000 registered users now...

Those whom the Gods wish to destroy They first make mad. -- Euripides
by Migeru (migeru at eurotrib dot com) on Thu Nov 23rd, 2006 at 05:17:39 PM EST
[ Parent ]
I like you sig' quote. Sounds somehow familiar to me at times ...

When through hell, just keep going. W. Churchill
by Agnes a Paris on Thu Nov 23rd, 2006 at 05:21:04 PM EST
[ Parent ]
BTW Migeru, I took a break in June, so I may be very bad at maths but it's not been 9 months.
Besides, you know pretty well I will take as demeaning of me your saying that there's been months of now regular newcomers.
Should I chose to be offended, I would distinctly sense the innuendo : "there's been a lot of worthwhile stuff going on since you left so peace off and get back to the almost-newbies category where you belong".
However, I have enough bad stuff on my plate to deal with in the off-blog world to afford feeling belittled over here. I thus back off, enough for today, the diary I was at can wait.

As I like to say : by underestimating people's strengths you might get hurt. By understating their weaknesses, you are sure to hurt them.

When through hell, just keep going. W. Churchill

by Agnes a Paris on Thu Nov 23rd, 2006 at 05:41:04 PM EST
[ Parent ]
Geez, I took the 9 months from you comment, and I misinterpreted it.

But really, all that Fran is saying is that you cannot go away for a substantial period of time (ok, it's been 5 months, not 9) and expect that on your return everyone is going to know who you are, or what "Gone with the Windmill" is. Innuendo? Give me a break.

Ack, I shouldn't have pitched into this thread at all. If you're bent on misunderstanding what Fran said and then my attempt at explaining it, I'm doing more harm than good.

Those whom the Gods wish to destroy They first make mad. -- Euripides

by Migeru (migeru at eurotrib dot com) on Thu Nov 23rd, 2006 at 05:55:23 PM EST
[ Parent ]
And it's a family oriented holiday in the States so most of us here are away from computers.

Welcome back!

She believed in nothing; only her skepticism kept her from being an atheist. -- Jean-Paul Sartre

by ATinNM on Thu Nov 23rd, 2006 at 05:33:15 PM EST
[ Parent ]
No, not from scratch - but there are quite a few new people who came after you left. There are still "oldtimers", though not all of them around today. And the new people might not know the background to your saga, which was really fun!!!! so PATIENCE!!! :-)
by Fran on Thu Nov 23rd, 2006 at 05:19:14 PM EST
[ Parent ]


Those whom the Gods wish to destroy They first make mad. -- Euripides
by Migeru (migeru at eurotrib dot com) on Thu Nov 23rd, 2006 at 05:20:51 PM EST
[ Parent ]
Agnes, it is so good to have you back!  Things just haven't been the same without you!!

Maybe we can eventually make language a complete impediment to understanding. -Hobbes
by Izzy (izzy at eurotrib dot com) on Thu Nov 23rd, 2006 at 01:53:06 PM EST
Hurray! Welcome back Agnes!!

"Once in awhile we get shown the light, in the strangest of places, if we look at it right" - Hunter/Garcia
by whataboutbob on Thu Nov 23rd, 2006 at 02:59:49 PM EST
At last, after all these months of reading dull economic diaries,  some real romance! It's like the perfume of the first spring flowers after a long winter...

"Dieu se rit des hommes qui se plaignent des conséquences alors qu'ils en chérissent les causes" Jacques-Bénigne Bossuet
by Melanchthon on Thu Nov 23rd, 2006 at 05:41:19 PM EST
I was at a dull economic diary right now, hoping to attract more readers that way. Thank you for your nice words, Melanchthon, and thanks to you Izzy and Bob.
Sorry Fran, but advising patience to me right now is like pulling a red flag right under a bull's nose.
May I suggest Jerome provides some off site background on how life has treated me lately to help you understand.
This forum cost me too much for me to be able to bear a newcomer label.

When through hell, just keep going. W. Churchill
by Agnes a Paris on Thu Nov 23rd, 2006 at 05:50:55 PM EST
[ Parent ]
Sorry Agnes, looks my English is not good enough to explain what I mean.
by Fran on Thu Nov 23rd, 2006 at 05:53:34 PM EST
[ Parent ]
You know, I was going to butt out of the thread but I find this May I suggest Jerome provides some off site background on how life has treated me lately to help you understand objectionable on several levels. If you are looking for community support having Jerome explain your private life to a select few over e-mail is not really going to cut it, and it's just going to make everyone feel awkward about inadvertently spilling the beans in a careless comment [I know e-mail/blog crossover is a huge headache for me already under ordinary unemotional circumstances]. Plus, you're dumping responsibility for fallout from this comment thread on Jerome, who had nothing to do with it and has enough on his real-life plate, too, as you surely know.

[BTW, the dinner invitation seems more appropriate than ever, seeing as though there is an off-site conversation to be had]

Those whom the Gods wish to destroy They first make mad. -- Euripides

by Migeru (migeru at eurotrib dot com) on Thu Nov 23rd, 2006 at 06:11:36 PM EST
[ Parent ]
I was going to leave it at that as well, until I saw your comment, and would like to respond on a few points :
-Interpretation that I dump responsibility on Jerome is indeed to be put at your credit (you may remember the two of us tend to step in to defend Jerome while he is well placed to do so by himself when he feels it needed) but in the present situation, inaccurate ;
-What I went through is definitely too private to be displayed in such a wide space (as you pointed out, here are more than 2000 members) ;
-I did not mean to exclude anyone by discriminating between those who I could confide in and the others ; I apologise if that's what you sensed ;
-It drives me too emotional to talk and, worse, write about it, so I thought someone could sum it up in a less sensitive way than I would do ;
The last thing I would wish is add weight to anyone's burden, especially Jerome's.

When through hell, just keep going. W. Churchill
by Agnes a Paris on Thu Nov 23rd, 2006 at 07:28:24 PM EST
[ Parent ]
I don't think weighting who has more on their real-life plate leads us anywhere, especially with the distinct degrees of information at hand.
Okay, I give you a break with innuendos if you stop making them. It is truly offending to hint that I would put my interests before anyone's difficulties/distress. Lack of modesty does not imply utter selfishness.
I suggest a truce for now.

When through hell, just keep going. W. Churchill
by Agnes a Paris on Thu Nov 23rd, 2006 at 07:46:11 PM EST
[ Parent ]
I never said anything about who has more on their plate.

Those whom the Gods wish to destroy They first make mad. -- Euripides
by Migeru (migeru at eurotrib dot com) on Thu Nov 23rd, 2006 at 07:52:40 PM EST
[ Parent ]


Display:
Go to: [ European Tribune Homepage : Top of page : Top of comments ]

Top Diaries

Italian government collapse

by IdiotSavant - Jan 15
15 comments

Dutch Government Collapse

by Oui - Jan 16
4 comments

A Rush To Judgement Day

by Oui - Jan 17
1 comment

A Long War?

by Frank Schnittger - Jan 8
77 comments

Israel and A Presidential Election

by Oui - Jan 14
26 comments