In La Charité-sur-Loire, two locksmiths had built their houses against the wall of the abbey church, so that their sleeping alcoves were decorated with spectacular eleventh- and twelfth-century bas-reliefs. A month before Mérimée's arrival, a soldier had lodged with one of the locksmiths and slept next to a sculpture of God the Father surrounded by saints and angels. He had a less than satisfactory night. In the morning he took his stick, chastised the figure of God with the words, 'You invented bedbugs, so this one is for you,' and knocked its head off.
"A peculiar anthologic maze, an amusing literary chaos, a farrago of quotations, a mere olla podrida of quaintness, a pot pourri of pleasant delites, a florilegium of elegant extracts, a tangled fardel of old-world flowers of thought, a faggot of odd fancies, quips, facetiae, loosely tied" (Holbrook Jackson, Anatomy of Bibliomania) by a "laudator temporis acti," a "praiser of time past" (Horace, Ars Poetica 173).
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Monday, October 02, 2017
This One Is For You
Julian Barnes, "The Man Who Saved Old France," Through the Window: Seventeen Essays and a Short Story (New York: Vintage Books, 2012), page number unknown: