My dear Holmes,
It is your most humble petitioner, Inspector Lestrade. It has been some time since I have last requested you assistance in the troubling matter of the not so recent disappearance of Lord Douchebag. This curious case has dragged on and on. It seems to have escaped the notice of so many who claimed the deepest interest and concern, but who have gone on as though nothing had happened. But there some new and troubling developments made it such that I thought I might contact you as we have not corresponded about this matter for many months.
As I had previously noted in several of my missives, I or my agents have attended many of the salons of the noted conversationalist and dilettante Lady Chatterley where Lord Douchebag was a frequent and much valued guest. In fact it has been told to me that the Lady in question has often referred to him as wonderful. What is most striking is that his name has not passed the lips of any of the many participants for lo these many months and it is as if he never existed. It seems that the Lady and her circle have turned their attention to the unfortunate state of affairs caused by the collection of ruffians and workingmen who laughing call themselves a union. Discussion of these trivial contrempts has dominated the conversation and correspondence of this circle to the exclusion of all others.
It is passing strange indeed.It appears that the other feeble attempts to search for Lord Douchebag have come to naught. It is as if he was in fact a fictional character taken full blown from the imagination of someone who has tired of the ruse and gone on to other pursuits. But a curious fact has emerged in the months I have been attending this gathering of simpering fops and angry misanthropes. I have come back again and again for many months as I find the ravings of the disturbed very soothing. Several of the former participants have also disappeared and no one seems to have noticed or commented on their untoward absence. An earnest young student who was a worshipful and devoted acolyte also seems to have disappeared without a word. Several musicians included a noted flautist have also vanished from these gatherings and their absence has been ignored by both Lady Chatterley and her consort. A grumpy and choleric ancient has also fled the scene never to be heard from again. In fact it seems that many of the former participants who were most intimately involved in the conversation have left under mysterious circumstances. Without the doyen of this group uttering the least inquiry or even a moue of regret regarding their sudden and unexplained disappearance.
But wonder of wonders it appears that the earnest young student has returned. He recently sent his first tentative missive which was greeted with great delight by some of the participants but which was of course ignored by the doyen of this establishment who does not deign to acknowledge anyone other than a favored few sycophants and toadies. Still the return of this long lost prodigal bodes well for the return of the famous Lord Douchebag.
But wonder of wonders it appears that the earnest young student has returned. He recently sent his first tentative missive which was greeted with great delight by some of the participants but which was of course ignored by the doyen of this establishment who does not deign to acknowledge anyone other than a favored few sycophants and toadies. Still the return of this long lost prodigal bodes well for the return of the famous Lord Douchebag.
I must pray to inform you that the intercourse among this tribe of outcasts and poor deluded souls remain most puzzling and I would like to formerly request that you turn you own prodigious intellect to the contemplation of this strange phenomena. If so, perhaps I could drop by Baker Street to compare notes with you. If that is at all convenient please inform Dr. Watson who could pass on word the next time we meet at the club.
I hope all is well with you and Doctor Watson and wish that you convey my best wishes to your estimable brother Mycroft. I am glad to see that the unfortunate incident involving him and the double jointed lascar from the West Indies came to naught as this miscreant was indeed over the age of consent and his complaints could thus be dismissed out of hand as the importuning of someone seeking recompense for acts that he engaged in knowingly and for profit. I would also like to be so bold as to ask you to inform him that I continue to encourage my colleagues to purchase some of his etchings that he kindly offers to show to so many young people that he invites back to his rooms.
I remain as always,
You obedient servant,
Inspector G. Lestrade
Scotland Yard
March 4, 1899
You obedient servant,
Inspector G. Lestrade
Scotland Yard
March 4, 1899
13 comments:
Did Bissage have a fiduchiary?
Perhaps he/she knows something.
Actually, it would be wonderful if Bissagio would reappear.
Bissage dead.
Merely dead or most sincerely dead?
Determinedly dead or determined to be dead?
Confounding or compounding?
Chickelit's question about a fiduciary got the MamaM wondering what Bissage did with his tuppence?
If you invest your tuppence
Wisely in the bank
Safe and sound
Soon that tuppence,
Safely invested in the bank,
Will compound
Chickelit's question about a fiduciary got the MamaM wondering what Bissage did with his tuppence?
Yes yes Bissage did always give his tuppence on matters great and small.
Cosa fa adesso, quel Bissagio?
A moue of regret is cool.
Thank God for the power of compounding. I'd be living under a bridge without it.
What's not to like about angry misanthropes?
Chckelit's cosa fa adesso? reminded me of this cute Italian pop song about missing someone.
The images and general sentiment are charming enough for Bissage, but I don't think too many of us miss him in quite the way the song implies.
Hate to, but I'm afraid I'll have to agree to disagree with Trooper about Bissage and charm.
BTW, Ligabue, who did the song linked in my comment, is a big rock stah in Italy, who IMHO is also pretty good. We don't know about him here, because Europop doesn't travel well.
Tim I live for people to disagree with me.
If Bissage only realized that we would have been cool. Just sayn'
Tim, There was a power pop group from Spain in the early 90s that I heard a lot of when I lived over there then. I can't even recall their name let alone a song. is there someplace to go to look at Spanish pop charts in the past where I could get a few clues? I want to roll them into my chronological music posts.
I dunno, Chickelit, some people think I'm a walking musical encyclopedia, but Spanish pop is the dark side of the moon to me. I'd know the same about Italian, except I sometimes listen to Italian internet radio stations, heard Ligabue, liked him (and his Italian American-Idol-like beginnings), and bought some of his songs. But I'm afraid your information about Spanish pop/rock would be at least as good as mine.
OTOH, back to the sunny south, if we're going to miss someone musically in Italian, the other end of the spectrum is "Di misera regina" ("Unhappy Queen"), from from Claudio Monteverdi's il ritorno d'Ulisse in patria (Ulysses' Return to his Homeland). This opera was the hit of the 1639/40 Carnival season in Venice. "Di misera regina" is where Penelope is wondering where the hell Ulysses is, because she can't stand it any longer. Here is a great performance from the Greenwich Music Festival in 2008, with period instruments, played and mostly sung in the style of the time. It's staged in a spare, almost Japanese style, with simple, appropriate costumes, and the singing and understated acting are almost breathtaking.
Opera was slowly developed in Italy around the time of Shakespeare. The first "real" opera, l'Orfeo (with arias, a ballet and something like an orchestra), was written by Monteverdi in 1607. He continued 30-odd years later with his swan songs, il ritorno, and L'incoronazione di Poppea (1642). "Di misera regina" is an extended recitativo, not an aria or "song." This kind of singing originated as a late Renaissance attempt to reconstruct the sung or chanted performance of ancient Greek drama. In 1607, Monteverdi took this hyper-refined and still-experimental style, threw in some really good songs, pretty girls dancing, gave it a clear dramatic structure, and the form took off, with opera houses sprouting all over Europe in the next 30 or 40 years.
But even at a time (1640's) when there began to be a lot of singers standing around, belting out schlocky arias in a manner familiar to modern opera audiences, Monteverdi still wrote his long, subtle, through-composed scenes in recitativo, of which this is a prime example. I like the emotional climax at about 5:28, where the maid sings, "No, that cannot be," and Penelope then starts on about happy things, such as a calm ocean, which are prettily accompanied by instruments in the small, antique orchestra. This sudden bit of color helps release the tension that's been building in this bleak and monochromatic scene for over 5 minutes, as well as nicely preparing the uplifting end. Talk about structure—Monteverdi was almost Shakespearian, and these singers pull it off to perfection.
Anyway, another of Tim's patented efforts at Music Appreciation.
Next up: A French opera frighteningly like the Warren. It also includes a huge gay subtext, one of the leads originally appearing in drag in 1745, NTTAWWT even, or especially, then.
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