mj -- .---

"You know what she used to tell me? That angels were watching over us."

Update:

Poured a glass of wine and decided to prove it:

Employees and developers working on Magic: The Gathering Arena say they were hired with promises of remote flexibility, so they bought homes and built lives around those assurances. But they say they are now being told they may need to relocate to Washington state — or effectively lose their jobs.

I’m still working on my next map post but I thought that meanwhile I need to make one thing clear:

If you haven’t read Alexandre Dumas’s account of the June Uprising YOU SHOULD!

His memoirs have been translated into English! You can download the relevant volume here: https://archive.org/details/mymemoirs06dumauoft (In fact everybody should probably also read his memoirs all the way through. I should read his memoirs all the way through…)

Seriously, it’s so much fun! Dumas is such a personality and he knew a lot of interesting and important people. And it’s just great to read about the events written by someone who actually was there. (Also why you should read Jeanne’s account too. They give two very different views into what happened. With Jeanne you get more about the actual uprising and what happened at the barricades, with Dumas you get more about the funeral procession and what was going on among the republican political leaders.)

BUT even if you don’t have the time or energy to read the whole book or even just the June Uprising account, you should at least read this following anecdote. TRUST ME IT’S WORTH IT. I mean it starts with Dumas being all like “oh hey, there’s a guy I know among those soldiers. I mean sure we almost tried to kill each other once but I’m sure he won’t shoot me if I approach them.” (spoilers: wrong) and then it just… well, let’s just say that it’s definitely not a predictable story.

And yes, this includes the reverse “Five Less, One More” episode.

(I broke it into smaller paragraphs to make it easier to read + the rest is under the cut. Oh and btw, the place where this happens is marked on the map that I posted [earlier]. Look for Porte St. Martin and “The theatres”.)

I followed the boulevard. It was intersected at the top of the street and the faubourg Saint-Martin by a detachment of the line; the men were drawn up in three rows. I was asking myself how I could go through that triple line alone, in my hostile uniform, when I discovered among the ranks an old battery comrade. True, I nearly fought a duel with him at the time over a difference of opinion. He was dressed in a round jacket, a policeman’s helmet and a pair of the buttoned knickerbockers called charivaris. He had a double-barrelled gun in his hand, and had joined the troops as an amateur.

Having recognised him, I thought I might feel easy and continued to advance, making signs with my hand. He lowered his gun. I thought he had recognised me, and was joking or wanted to frighten me, so I still went forward. Suddenly, he disappeared in a cloud of fire and smoke and a bullet whistled in my ears. I saw things were serious. 

I was by the cafe de la Porte-Saint-Martin. I wanted to run into the theatre passage, but it was closed. I thrust the door of the theatre open with one kick. The fourth or fifth performance of La Tour de Nesle was put up on the bills. I ran to the property stores. I came across Harel on the stage. He tore his hair at seeing his successful run interrupted. As he perceived that I was turning away from him, he said, “Where are you going?”

“To the property stores”

“What do you want there?”

“Have you such a thing as a rifle?”

“Pardieu ! I have a hundred. You know very well we have just been playing… that is to say, unfortunately not I, but Crosmer… Napoleon à Schönbrunn.”

“All right, I want a rifle.”

“What for?”

“To return one of my friends a bullet he has just sent at me. Only, I hope to be more adroit than he was.”

“Oh! my friend!” exclaimed Harel, “you are going to get the theatre burnt down!” And he placed himself in front of the door leading to the property stores.

“Pardon, my friend,” I said to him, “I will give up the rifles as they are yours; but give me the pistols that I presented for the second representation of Richard: not only are they valuable ones but, also, they were a present.”

“Hide the pistols!” cried Harel to the man who had charge of the properties.

They hid them so well that I never saw them again.

(random digression: the Harel mentioned here is the same guy Dumas once gave a pig to!  And Georges is an accomplished actress and Harel’s partner in theater affairs. And BOTH of them were involved with the career of Juliette Drouet, Hugo’s longtime mistress and writing assistant. ROMANTIC CIRCLES WERE RIDICULOUS.)  

Also I’ve been reading more of Dumas’ memoirs and: 

You could make a drinking game out of it. Drink every time Dumas randomly runs into someone he knows?

…you’d drown  inside of five pages. 

Though based on various memoirs I have read, I am seriously getting the impression that this is just how it WAS, especially for artists at the time, who really DID mix with every level of society as part of their business– like, Dumas is probably the reigning champion (the guy chats about hanging out with Louis-Philippe pre-King days! And even leaning on him for favors to friends!) , but also there’s sheer ridiculous levels of Random Acquaintancing like Arsene Houssaye coming out of the uprising without even an arrest because he just happened to be caught by the one officer who knew his family.