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Beautiful Sunset

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NIGHT AT THE TAVERN

V - CLAUDIUS HERMANN

This chapter beat my ass, not gonna lie. It contains a poem, which are extremely hard to translate (especially since it’s an álvares poem…), so forgive me for any inaccuracies in that department. This chapter contains some pretty repulsive stuff, especially regarding sexual assault and abduction (seriously), and I’d go as far as saying it’s the most disturbing one (followed closely by Solfieri’s). Stay safe, and enjoy!

Text by Álvares de Azevedo, translation my own.

V

Claudius Hermann

… Ecstasy!

My pulse as yours doth temperately keep time

And makes a healthful music. It is not madness that I have utter’d.

SHAKESPEARE - “Hamlet”

“And you, Hermann! Your turn has come. One by one we invoked a corpse from the cemetery of time. One by one we lifted its shroud to sample you a drop of blood. Speak, for your turn has come.”

“Claudius dreams of a sonnet in the manner of Petrarch, some halo of purity like that of the pure spirits from Der Messias,” Johann said between a smoke and a laugh, lifting his head off the table.

“Very well! You want a story? I could tell, like you, insanities of nights of debauchery, but why? It was intended as mockery when Faust went to remind Mephistopheles of the hours of damnation he spent with him. You know them… these clouds of the past; you’ve read plenty at the faded book of my libertine existence. If you do not remember it, the first woman of the streets you find could remind you. In this dark river called life that flows towards the past while we walk towards the future, I also gave up faith and threw myself, having shed my most perfumed clothing, to wear the tunic of Saturnalia! The past is what is gone, it’s the flower that has withered, the sun that has set, the corpse that has rotted. To cry for it? What madness! Better sleep with your dark memories! Come to life, wake only the forget-me-nots in bloom in that swamp! Floats, in that not-being, the scent of a pure memory!”

“Bravo! Bravissimo Claudius, you are completely drunk! In truth you are a romantic!”

“Silence, Bertram! It is true that this is not a legend to be told after yours, one of those things to be told with your elbows on the red cloth and your lips splashed with wine and satiated with kisses… But why bother?”

“You all that love the game, you that once saw a wave of golf flow in that abyss, eddy in the bottom, like a sea of hopes that crashes on the high tide of fate, you know well what haze confuses us then… it is the best insanity that riles us in those games of thousands of men, or of fortune. --Aspirations, life itself at the speed of a race, where all this complex of miseries and desires, crimes and virtues called existence is thrown onto a couple of horses![1]

I bet, as a man that wasn’t wounded by growing poor: luxury also satiates; and that is a horrible satiety! To it nothing is enough… not the dances from the Orient, nor the Roman Lupercalias, not even the burning of an entire city will quench its thirst for blood, this vitality of poison that Byron speaks of [2]. My gamble at the turf was my whole fortune. I was rich, very rich then: in London no one boasted more expensive depravities, no nawab splurged in one evening as many sums as I. The sweat of three generations, I spilled it on the beds of whores, and on the floor of my orgies…

In the moment the races were about to start, when everyone felt feverish with impatience, a murmur ran through the crowds, a smile… and then a woman shot by on horseback. Had you seen her, like me, on a black horse, with velvet clothes, with her lively face, the ardent look between her eyelashes, reflecting a queen in all those grandiose gestures! Had you seen her, beautiful with her perfect and harmonious beauty, beautiful with her pure and silky coloring, with her black hair and the white skin of her face, the oval of her rosy cheeks, the nacre fire of her thin lips, the perfection of her chest standing out in her riding habit… Had you seen her like this, honestly, gentlemen, you wouldn’t have laughed as you are laughing now!”

“Romanticism! You must be very drunk, Claudius, for on your dry lips of Lovelace and your detachment of Don Juan [3], poetry has come and given a kiss!”

“Laugh, yes! You wretches! That do not understand what perhaps flows like fire from Lovelace’s lips, how love heaves under the dripping wet clothes of Don Juan– the libertine! Madmen, that have never imagined Lovelace without his mask, maybe crying for Clarissa Harlowe [4]— poor angel! Whose white wings she was going to shed, cursing this fatality that makes love an infamy and a crime! A thousand times you are madmen! That never imagined the Spaniard waking up in the lupanar [5], running his hand through his forehead and burning with remorse and longing as he remembers so many beautiful visions from the past!”

“Bravo! Bravo!”

“Poetry! Poetry!” mumbled Bertram.

“Poetry! Why pronounce to the chaste virgin its sacred name, like a mystery, in the filth of the tavern? Why remind her of the star of love in the light of the orgy’s lamps? Poetry! Do you know what poetry is?”

“Half hundred sonorous words that a handful of pallid men understand, a ladder of sounds and harmonies that to those mad souls seem like ideas and unleash illusions like the moon to shadows… that is, in what one calls poets. Now, in the ideal, in the woman, resentment from the last romance, the delirium and passion of the last novel’s heroine and the vague and uncertain present of a mystical pleasure, for which a virgin recoils in lust, without knowing why…”

“Silence, Bertram! Your brain has been fried by wine, like lava from a volcano burns the brush and flowers of a meadow. Silence! You are like those plants that bloom and dive into the dead sea: a limestone crystallization covers them, they wither and die. Poetry, I’ll tell you as well on my turn, is the flight of the morning birds in the warm embrace of dawn’s red clouds, it is the deer that rolls in the dew of the lush mountain, that forgets tomorrow’s death, yesterday’s agony, in its bed of flowers!”

“That’s enough, Claudius, because that which you say no one understands: they are words, words and more words; like Hamlet said; and all that is empty and lifeless like a dried skull, deceitful like the earth’s infectious vapors that the twilight sun flushes with a thousand colors called clouds and that jeering and cloudy fairy called poetry!”

“The story! The story! Claudius, can’t you see this discussion is making us yawn with boredom?”

“Very well, I shall tell the rest of the story. At the end of that day I would’ve doubled my fortune.

The next day I saw her: it was in the theater. I don’t know which play was it, I don’t know what I saw, or heard; I only knew that there was a woman, as beautiful as every most pure thing the sculptor creates. This woman was the duchess Eleonora… The next day I saw her at a ball… Then… It took long: six months! Can you imagine? Six months of agony and breathtaking desire, six months of love with the thirst of a beast! Six months! How long were they!

One day, I’d had enough. All this time had been spent in contemplation, in seeing her, loving her, dreaming of her; I wrung my hands thinking it would not go further from that, that it was too much to wait in vain and that if she would not come, like Gulanre at the feet of the Corsair [6], one must go speak to her.

One night all were asleep in the duke’s palace. The duchess, tired from the ball, fell asleep on a divan. The alabaster lamp trembly shone its golden light on her pale face. She looked like a fairy asleep in the moonlight.

The portière fluttered: a man stood there, distracted. His head was so hot and feverish and he rested it in the doorframe.

The weakness was cowardly; and more, this man had bought a key and at one point under the betrayal of a servant, this man had sworn he’d have that woman tonight. Gone is the poison, he’d drink the nectar of that flower, the scarlet liquor of that glass. As to these losses of honor and adultery, do not laugh at them - not that he laughed at it. He loved and he wanted her: his want was like the blade of a dagger — to harm or to crack.

On the table there was a cup and a vial of wine, he filled it: it was Spanish wine… he came close to her, with her velvet clothes untied, her hair half loose still woven with gemstones and flowers, her breast half naked, where diamonds glittered like dewdrops, he lifted her in his arms, kissed her. Under the heat of that kiss, half-naked, she woke; among her vague dreams an illusion perhaps peered through; she murmured ‘love!’ and with heavy lidded eyes she let her head fall and fell asleep again.

The man drew from his breast an emerald vial. He lifted it to her half-open lips and poured a few drops that she absorbed without feeling them. He laid her down and waited. From then on her sleep was most profound… The liquid was a narcotic which was a mix of a few drops of those exciting liquors that inspire fever on the face and voluptuousness in the heart.

The man was on his knees, his chest trembled, and he was pale like a man after a long sensuous night. Everything seemed to falter around him…

She was naked: neither velvet, nor sheer veil covered her. The man rose and moved the curtains.

The lamp shone brighter and then went out…

That man was Claudius Hermann.

-

When I rose, I shrouded myself in my cape and walked off into the street. I wanted to retire to my home, but I was as dizzy as a drunkard. I was staggering and the floor seemed slippery, like when one feels faint. Though an idea chased me. After that woman there had been nothing for me. Someone who has drunk from the wine of the ripe grapes of paradise should never again get drunk with earthly nectar…

When the nectar has run dry, what is left if not suicide?

A week went on like this: every night I drank from the sleeping woman’s lips a century of pleasure. One month, in which entrudo balls [7] deliriously went by, more feverish yet, she fell asleep hot, with her face on fire…

One night — it was after a ball — I waited for her in her bedroom, hidden behind her bed. I had poured the last drops from the vial in the cup of water beside her bed when she walked in with the duke.

He was a beautiful man! Before leaving her he placed his hands on her brow and kissed her. Giddy with that kiss, the angel rested her head on his shoulder and circled him with her bare arms, glittering with bejeweled bracelets. The duke was thirsty, took the duchess’ cup, drank a few drops; she took the cup away from him, and drank the rest. I watched them this way: that husband, still so young, that woman — ah! And so beautiful! With immaculate skin — and squeezed the dagger…

‘Will you come today, Maffio?’

‘Yes, my soul.’

A kiss was whispered, and drowned the two souls. And I smiled in the shadows, for I knew he ought not to come.

-

He left, and she began to undress. I watched her shiny clothes, the flowers and the jewels, slip off one by one, saw the dark shiny braids come undone and then appear under the white veil of her transparent robe, like the statues of half-undressed nymphs, with their curves contoured by their tunics drenched in bath water.

What I saw… It was what I’d much dreamed of, what you all, poor madmen, idealized as the visions of love over a whore’s body! It was her snowy breasts, with blue veins, trembling with desire, her head lost among the shower of dark hair, her lips heaving, her entire body palpitating: it was the wantonness of imperfection, when beauty’s body is filled with even more beauty, and, like a rose blooming wet with dew, the more it expands, the more its beauty blossoms.

The narcotic was very powerful: a feverish suffering parted her lips; exerted and languid, lying on the bed, with colorless eyelids, arms limp and devoid of strength, I seemed to be kissing a shadow.

I lifted her from the bed; I carried her in her transparent clothes, her satin form, her loose hair still humid with perfume, her breasts still warm…

I ran with her through the deserted corridors, passed through the patio, the last door was closed: I opened it. There was a coach in the street: the horses neighed with impatience. I entered the coach with her. We took off.

It took long. An hour later the sun was rising.

Soon we were outside the town.

Dawn was coming alongside its vapors, its rose bushes sprayed with dew, its velvety clouds and its waters peppered with gold and warmth. Nature blushed under the sun’s first kiss, like a pale damsel under her groom’s first kiss: not like the voluptuous night’s stolen lover as paganism painted her, more like a virgin awoken from childish slumber, kneeled before God, praying and whispering her balsamic prayers to the bluing sky, the glittering earth, the waters turning gold. This dawn fell onto the earth like God’s breath; and among that light and that fresh air, the duchess slept, pale like the slumber of those mystical creatures in illuminated manuscripts from the Middle Ages, beautiful like Titian’s sleeping Venus [8], and voluptuous like one of Veronese’s fallen women [9].

I kissed her: I was feeling the life that was evaporating from her lips. She was startled, half-opened her eyes, but the weight of sleep still burdened her, and so her colorless eyelids closed…

The carriage continued fast.

-

The sun had reached its apex in the sky — it was noon; the heat was stifling: through the head, the face, drops of sweat rolled down the duchess’ chest like the pearls of a broken necklace…

We stopped by a boarding house; I threw a veil over her face, took her in my arms and carried her to a room.

She must look so beautiful like this! The servants stopped by in the corridors: it was for awe at such beauty, even more so than just indiscreet curiosity.

The owner of the house came to me.

‘Sir, your wife or your sister, whoever she is, she will certainly need a maid to serve her…’

‘Leave me, she sleeps.’

That was my only answer.

I laid her on the bed, drew the curtains, closed the windows so that the light did not disturb her sleep. There was no one there who could see us, we were alone, the man and his angel; and the earthly creature knelt by the bed of the heavenly one.

I do not know how much time went on like this, I’m not sure if I slept, but I know that I dreamt of much love and much hope, I’m not sure if I watched over her, but I always saw her there, I contemplated her every gracious sleeping movement, I shuddered at every breath that made her breast tremble, and everything seemed like a dream to me, one of those dreams in which the soul abandons itself like a swan becoming sleepy to the sound of the water… I do not know how much time went on like this: I only know that my stillness broke, the duchess was sitting up in the bed, with her bare arms she brushed off the waves of loose hair that covered her face and chest.

‘Is this a dream?’ she mumbled, ‘Where am I? Who is this man leaning on my bed?’

The man did not answer.

She left the bed; her first impulse was modesty: she tried to cover her breasts, palpitating with fear, with her little hands. She felt nearly naked, exposed to the view of a stranger, and she trembled like the poets say Diana trembled when she saw herself exposed, in her bath, naked to the eyes of Actaeon [10].

‘Sir, tell me, for mercy, if this is all not an illusion… if this was not an insult! I don’t even want to think about it. Maffio won’t be long, won’t he? My Maffio…! This is all a comedy… but what room is this? I fell asleep in my palace… How did I wake in a strange chamber? Tell me, is this not all a joke of Maffio’s? He wants to laugh at me… But, see, I tremble, I am afraid.’

The man would not respond: he had his eyes fixed on that divine form. She’d be a statue of passion in her pallor, her fixed gaze, her wanting lips, if the heaving of her chest did not denounce she was alive.

She knelt; I don’t even know what she was saying. I do not know what words evaporated from those lips: they were perfumes, because the roses of heaven have only perfumes; they were harmonies, because the harps of heaven have only harmonies; and the lips of a beautiful woman are a divine rose, and her heart is a heavenly harp. I heard her, but did not understand her, I felt only that those words were very sweet, that that voice held an irresistible talisman to my soul, because only in my boyish, illusionary dreams of love, I had come across a voice like that.

The moans of two virgins embracing each other in heaven, made golden by the light of God’s face, pale by the most pure kisses, by the trembling of the most palpitating embraces, would not be as gentle as that voice!

The girl cried, sobbed; at last she rose.

I saw her run to the window, she was about to open it… I ran and grabbed her by the hands…

‘Very well,’ she said, ‘I’ll scream… if this is not a desert, if someone walks by… They may help me… Help m…’

I shut her mouth with my hands…

‘Silence, madam!’

She fought to free herself from my hands; at last she became tired. I let go of her out of pity.

‘For mercy then make this doubt of mine clear: what is the reason for all I see? Everything that I think, that I guess, is too horrible!’

‘Listen then,’ I told her, ‘There was a woman… An angel. There was a man who loved her, like the waters love the moon that makes them look silvery, like the eagles in the mountains love the sun that faces them, that fills them with light and love. I don’t even know who he was; he rose above a life of fever one day, forgot it; and forgot the past before a woman’s transparent eyes, the stains of his story, in a dawn of pleasures, where for him it was drawn the shadow of this angel… Listen: do not curse him! This man had much dishonor in the past, he had damned his youth, prostituted, like a golden butterfly, his generation, throwing it in the mud; cold, without beliefs, without hopes, he had smothered one by one his illusions, like the infanticide does to her children… Perhaps God had cursed him! Or he himself had cursed him… Forgotten he was a man and had in his heart harmonies as saintly as the poet’s… He had forgotten them and they slept in mystery like the chords of an abandoned guitar. He’d forgotten that nature was beautiful, and very beautiful at that, that the night flowers’ bed was fragrant, that the moon was the lamp of lovers, the breezes of the valley, the perfumes of the poet in his betrothal to the angels and that dawn held fresh breezes… and with its virginal clouds, its leaves wet with dew, its cloudy waters, it had charms that only the pure souls understand! He rejected all that, forgot it all… Only to be reminded with lasciviousness and mocking during his sweaty hours of depravity… He was so depraved!’

‘But all that does not tell me who you are… nor why am I here…’

‘Listen: the libertine did love the angel then, turned his back to the past, freed himself of it like an impure shroud. Retempered himself in the fire of sentiment, steadied himself in the vision of that virginity, because she was as beautiful as a virgin, and reflected that virginal light of her spirit in the divine soul’s glow that illuminated her form, that came not from the earth, but from heaven. Time still hadn’t ailed the libertine’s heart with an incurable leprosy, nor had engraved his brow with an inextinguishable mark — impurity! He left behind the life he used to live, ignored his colleagues, his purchased lovers, his feverish insomnias, wanted to erase all the taste of existence, like a man who has lost everything on the gambling table would like to forget reality. And the man was able to forget it all. But he was still not happy. He spent nights around her palace, sometimes he saw her, beautiful and pale, beneath the moonlight, or distinguished her form in the shadow that passed behind the curtains of her illuminated bedroom’s open window. During the balls he followed that palpitating body with looks of envy. In the theater, between the heaving of the waves of harmony, when ecstasy floated in that balsamic and illuminated room, he saw nothing but her— and only her! And the hours spent in his bed… not his hours of sleep, because he barely slept, because at times they were long hours of impatience and insomnia, at times short hours of ardent dreams! The poor madman had an idea one day: it was grim, yes, but it was what providence demanded. What he did I do not know, nor ever will. And later, drunk enough to dream of you, mad enough to imagine having you in his fiery dreams, was profane enough to dare steal from the temple a ciborium of most pure gold. This man… have mercy on him, for he will love you on his knees… oh angel, Eleonora…’

‘My God! My God! Why such calumny, so much filth about me? Oh Madonna! Why do you curse my life so, why have you let a mark this dark fall upon my head?’

The tears, the sobs muffled her voice.

‘Forgive me, madam, here you have me at your feet! Have pity on me, for I suffered a lot, loved you a lot, l love you a lot! Mercy! For I will be your slave, I will kiss your feet, I will kneel at your doorstep, will listen to your breaths, your prayers, your dreams… and that will suffice… I will be your slave and your dog, I will lie at your feet when you are awake, I will guard you with my dagger when the night falls, and, if one day, if just one day you could love me… then… then…’

‘Oh, leave me be! Leave me be!’

‘Eleonora! Eleonora! To lose nights upon nights on a single hope! To nurture it in your breast like a flower that wilts with cold, to nurture it, revive it every day, to see it be defoliated before my face! To drown myself in love and receive only mockery and ridicule back! Tell the painter to tear his Madonna, the sculptor to break his statue of a woman into pieces.

Insane, poor madwoman that you are! Do you believe that a man should bring life to a thought inside his head, to live out of this rot, to soak himself in the vitality of pain, to later have it torn from his breast? Do you believe he would allow his heart to be stepped on, to have his… he, poet and lover! The flowers from the crown of illusions, one by one, throughout the night of disgrace, against his mad mother’s love smother in his breast the creature of his blood, his life’s child, the hope of his hopes?’

‘Oh, and do you not have pity on me also? Do you not know it? This is a disgrace! I am a poor woman. On my knees I beg you to forgive me if I’ve offended you… I beg of you, leave me be! Why would your dreams, your love matter to me?’

That pain hurt me profoundly: those tears burned me. But my will made itself firm and ferrous like destiny.

‘Why do my dreams matter, why do my love matters? Yes, you are right! Why would it matter for the water in the desert and the gazelle in the sand that the Arab is thirsty or the lion is hungry? But thirst and hunger are fatal. Love is like that; do you understand it now?’

‘Kill me then! Have you not a dagger! A single stab, for the love of God! I swear, I will thank you…’

‘To die! And you think of dying! Senseless woman! Slide from the warm bed of love to the cold slab of the dead! You do not know what you’re saying. Do you know what this word is: — to die? It is the doubt that haunts existence, it is the doubt, the premonition that makes the brow of the suicidal man cold, flows though their hair like wintery winds and turns us pale like Hamlet! To die! It is the end of all dreams, of all palpitations in the heart, of all hopes! It is to be breast to breast with our old lovers and not feel them! Madwoman! The betrothal of the vermin is a frightful one, a very dark sheet that of the burial shroud! Do not speak of this; why think of the gravedigger alongside the bed of life? Put your hand on your heart… it beats… and beats strongly, like a fetus in its mother’s womb. There is still much life in there, much love to be loved, much lust for living! Oh! If only you wanted to love me!’

She hid her head in her hands and sobbed.

‘It is impossible, I cannot love you!’

I told her:

‘Eleonora, listen to me, I’ll leave you alone, but I will guard you from that door. Make up your mind, let it be a firm decision indeed, but a thought out one. Remember that after today you will not be able to return to the world: duke Maffio would be the first to run from you, he would sense the vice of adultery on your face, he would think he was feeling the wetness of a stranger’s kiss on your mouth. He would hate you! See: further is the hatred and mockery, the ridicule of other women, the vengeful jeers from those that loved you and you did not love back. When you walk in, they will say: there is she! She repents! The husband… poor he! He has forgiven her… Mothers will hide their daughters from you, honest wives will be ashamed to touch you… And here, Eleonora, here you will have my breast and my love, a life just for you, a man that will think of you only and always dream of you, a man whose world will be only you, your laughter, your gaze, your love, that will forget yesterday and tomorrow to make, like a God, you his Eternity. Think, Eleonora! If you wanted, we’d leave today; a life of adventure awaits us. I am very rich, enough to adorn you like a queen. We’ll run to Europe, we will see France with its luxury, Spain, whose climate invites love, where the afternoons are fragrant with the orangeries in bloom, where the fields turn to velvet filled with a thousand multicolored flowers, we will go to Italy, to your homeland and, in its blue sky, its clear nights, its most tender twilights we will live anew under the meridional sun! If you wanted it… Otherwise it would be too horrible… I do not know what would happen: but whoever entered this room would find their feet covered in blood.’

I left; two hours later I came back.

‘Have you thought it over, Eleonora?’

She did not respond. She was lying with her face between her hands. To the sound of my voice, she had risen. There was a piece of paper, wet with her tears, on the bed. I stretched out a hand to take it, she handed it to me. They were some verses of mine. I looked at the table, my valise, that I had taken from the coach, was open, the papers were a mess. These were those verses.”

Claudius produced a yellowed and crumpled paper from his pocket, and threw it on the table. Johann read it:

“Do not hate me, woman, if in the past

A dark stain discolored my life,

– It’s that I’ve burned my lips in the ardent vice

And disbelieved everything with my head held high.

Don Juan’s mask burned my face

In the libertine’s cold pallor:

That gaze made me jaded… and those cold lips

Dare to curse my destiny.

Yes! Long nights in the fervor of gambling

I splurged, feverish and sickly

And entrusted my future to the God of fate

And love I profaned in forgetting!

I wilted the poet’s flowers in mockery,

In the irony of glory and of amours:

To the vapors of wine, insane at night

Leaned over from gambling into fervors!

I profaned the flower of youth

Among the murky waters of the past…

In the brain, fever, on the face, pallor,

I believed only in the calm grave!

And the Angel’s immaculate wings,

On the breaths of the sold woman I defiled,

Still darkens my lips the purple brand

Of the whore’s kisses.

And the myrrh of the verses no longer exhales

In the dishallowed cup, dark and tainted:

A sea of filth drained in the river of my soul,

Ripped the white flowers off the margins,

Dream of glories! only runs through me too quickly,

Like an open flower, in fear, in tomb-filled floor

— languished and without fragrance…

My love… the heart silences it:

I keep it deep inside the shadows of the shrine

Where the weeds did not fill the voidness.

My love… it was a white clothed vision

From the orgy to the door, cold and sobbing.

Holy lamp raised in depraved bed,

Tavern’s templar vase at the table,

Pale morning star [11] reflecting

On the mire of crime.

Like the old cities’ leper

I know you ran with horror from [my] kisses,

I know, in the crazy living of those mad years

Faith I deflowered in dark insanity…

– Vestal, I prostituted the virgin forms,

I myself threw into the sea the leaves from the crown,

Exchanged the pink tunic of childhood

For the shroud of orgies.

Oh! Do not love me at all! Very well! One day

The Lord may say to poor Lazarus:

You there, lift yourself from the Lupanar of death,

Come alive at the freshness of purer living!

And I will live again: the moth

Shakes its wings, jerks them, shines,

Shedding the dark skin, the filthy goo

Of the faded caterpillar.

Then, woman, I will rise from the filth

Where Satan bedded me [12]

Where still warm he perfumed his proxy,

Satin nudity of snowy forms.

And the blonde whore, in her white breasts

Laid my livid head, in the sleeplessness

I came down with the fever of voluptuousness unto thirst

Under those purchased kisses.

And so I will wake under the most pure sun,

Fair smelling breezes of hope!

I’ll wash myself of faith in the golden waters

Of Magdalene in tears! and from the angel

That perhaps God may give me, curved and mute,

Steal a kiss, in the vapors of love,

To die in his lips!”

“She became quiet: she was crying and moaning.

I came close to her, kneeled as if before God.

‘Eleonora, yes or no?’

She turned her face to the other side, tried to speak… she interrupted herself at every sillable.

‘Wait, let me pray a little, Madonna might forgive me.’

I waited always. She kneeled.

‘Now…’ she said, getting up and stretching her hand.

‘Well?’

‘I’ll go with you.’

And fainted.”

-

Here stopped the story of Claudius Hermann.

He lowered his head onto the table, and spoke no more.

“Are you sleeping, Claudius? By God! You’re either drunk or dead!”

It was Archibald addressing him: he shook him with all his might.

Claudius lifted his head a little, he was sickly, his eyes were hollowed under a dark shadow.

“Leave me be, cursed ones! Leave me be by hell or heaven! Can’t you see I’m sleepy… sleepy and very sleepy?”

“What about the story, the story?” boomed Solfieri.

“What about the duchess Eleonora?” asked Archibald.

“The duchess… It feels to me as if I’ve heard this name once… To hell with it, why does it matter to me?”

Then he wanted to proceed, but an invincible force held him back.

“The duchess… it’s true! But how did I forget all that I do not remember? Take this weight off my head… I bet they filled my skull with molten lead!” and he hit his sickly head like a doctor hits the chest of the agonizing man to find an echo of life.

“So?”

“Ah! Ah! Ah!” laughed someone that had kept himself askew to the conversation.

“Arnold! Shut up!”

“You shut up first, Solfieri! I will tell the end of the story.”

It was Arnold-the-blond, that woke..

“Listen you all,” he said: “one day, Claudius entered his home. He found the bed soaked in blood: and on a dark corner of the alcove a madman embracing a corpse. The corpse was Eleonora’s, the madmen’s ye could not even recognize given how much the agony had disfigured him! It was a rigid, tousled head, with greenish flesh, sunken eyes and spleen where the lumen of insanity timidly scintillated, like the luminous emanation of the marsh between the shadows…”

But he had recognized him… “It was duke Maffio.”

Claudius guffawed. — It was as grim as insanity, as cold as the sword of the angel of darkness. He fell to the ground, livid and sweaty like agony, rigid like death…

He was as drunk as Noah the Patriarch, the vine’s first ever lover, unknown virgin until then and today whore of all mouths… drunk as Noah, the first ever drunkard that history speaks of! He slept sound and heavily like Saint Peter the Apostle at the Mount of Olives… The case being that both of them had dined that night…

Arnold spread his cloak on the ground and laid on top of it.

A few moments later his baritone’s snores mixed with the great concerto of the sleepers’ snores.

-

[1] Claudius is talking about gambling and horse racing.

[2] Reference to Byron’s Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage, Canto III.

[3] Richard Lovelace is a character from Samuel Richardson’s novel Clarissa and Don Juan is a fictional character appearing in many works, notably Byron’s homonymous poem; both are famed libertines.

[4] Main character from the novel mentioned earlier.

[5] famous brothel in Pompeii.

[6] reference to Byron’s The Corsair.

[7] The word “entrudo” refers to an earlier version of the modern Brazilian Carnaval.

[8] Could be a reference to either of these paintings.

[9] In the original Portuguese “amásia” means a woman living with a man she is not married to. Translated to fallen woman for clarity.

[10] Reference to the myth of Diana and Actaeon, in which he, a hunter, sees the goddess naked, bathing in a stream. To punish him she turns him into a deer, making him be torn apart and devoured by his own hunting dogs.

[11] In the original “Estrela d’alva, meaning the planet Venus (morning star).

[12] In the original, “se pernoitou comigo” literally means “spent the night with me”, but I chose to highlight the double entendre.

#romanticism #álvares de azevedo #poetry #noite na taverna #noite na taverna translation #praying everything is alright w this text 😭

[donospl]

Co w jazzie piszczy [sezon 2 odcinek 2]

premierowa emisja 10 stycznia 2024 – 18:00 Graliśmy: Nowości wytwórni Clean Feed Records oraz Shhpuma z października 2023: Phillip Greenlief & Scott Amendola “Eloquent Turbulence” z albumu “Stay with it” Aruán Ortiz featuring Don Byron and Pheeroan akLaff “Autumn Of Freedom (Opening)” z albumu “Pastor’s Paradox” Ned Rothenberg “Sheets To The Wind” z albumu “Crossings Four” Nataniel Edelman…

View On WordPress

#Aruán Ortiz #Calcanhar #Carlos Azevedo #Cedric Piromalli #Clean Feed Records #Co w jazzie piszczy #Dominik Mahnig #Don Byron #Fritz Hauser #João Mortágua #Leonhard Huhn #Lori Freedman #Mary Halvorson #Mercury #Mia Dyberg Trio #Michael Attias #Michael Formanek #Miha Gantar #Mikko Innanen #Nataniel Edelman #Ned Rothenberg #Nicolas Caloia #Nicolas Remondino #Pedro Carneiro #Pheeroan akLaff #Philip Zoubek #Phillip Greenlief #Scott Amendola #Sheldon Suter #Shhpuma

[rebeyes]

PT party

Manuela Azevedo. Dec, 2009

#Manuela Azevedo #PT #b&w #shows #2009

[thegreenwallrabbit-blog]

A  List of TTRPG’s Luis Carazo has been in (updated November 2023)

Note these are not listed by date made, click underlined to go to youtube (if link doesn’t work for some reason you can just search for underlined title)

upcoming work

One shots/Charity events/Streamed Con events

GenCon 2023 | All Stars- Call of Cthulhu Live from GenCon 2023! Join Keeper Mark Meer as he guides investigators Harli Kane, Josephine McAdam, Luis Carazo, and Noura Ibrahim through The Dead Boarder! (Nov 23, 2023)

Live at GenCon(2023) W/Brennan Lee Mulliagan/ D&D (new) Join DM Brennan Lee Mulliagan for a Giant sized adventure played live at GenCon 2023 w/ players Jeremy Crawford, Dael Kingsmill, Erika Ishii, Luis Carazo and Gabe Hicks! Follow a group of determined seekers from the world below as they quest through a cloud giants castle for knowledge, family and adventure in this original adventure featuring elements from the new book “Bigby Presents: Glory of Giants”

Pixel Circus Plays Frosthaven (July 2023) New Welcome to the Gloomhaven Grand Festival! Join the Pixel Circus crew as they battle enemies to escape a sinking ship, in a very special Frosthaven scenario! Players: Saige Ryan,  Kailey Bray, Luis Carazo, Paula Deming.

 Dice Throne Adventures LIVE from the MEGA STAGE at Game Con Canada 2023 in Calgary, AB featuring:  Jason Azevedo as the Host, Deborah Ann Woll (True Blood, Daredevil) as The Pyromancer, Luis Carazo as a The Vampire Lord, Noura Ibrahim (Into the Mist, LA by Night) as The Seraph, Omega Jones (Critical Bard) as The

 Gloomhaven Rolepaying Game LIVE from Game Con Canada 2023| RealmSmith | Cephalofair Join us for this epic one-shot adventure set in the new Gloomhaven RPG LIVE from the MEGA STAGE at Game Con Canada in Calgary, AB featuring: Deborah Ann Woll (True Blood, Daredevil) as Savvas Elementalist, Luis Carazo (Critical Role) as a Human Scoundrel, Noura Ibrahim (Into the Mist, LA by Night) as an Inbox Bruiser, Joel Augé as a Vermling Soothsinger and our very own Jason Azevedo as the Gloom Master! This actual play takes place during the much-anticipated BackerKit campaign for the Gloomhaven Roleplaying Game.

Humblewood 5e Deck of Many Things- Join Trisha and friends (Xander Jeanneret (DM) , Erika Ishii, Luis Carazo and Whitney Moore) on an epic adventure through the Humblewood setting of D&D 5th edition. 

B Dave Walter’s One on One Shots With Luis Carazo. Come and Join B Dave Walters and his amazing list of guests! This week's guest is actor, performer, Werewolf killer... Luis Carazo! 

The Missing Heart - A Tale of Oz | D&D 5E Welcome to the magical world of Oz! This whimsical one-shot is presented in partnership with Andrews McMeel Publishing to celebrate the launch of their new Dungeons & Dragons book "OZ: A Fantasy Role-Playing Setting". Markeia McCarty, Luis Carazo( he plays a bear named Brawny), Desirée Strother, and Andrew Strother, are led on a magical adventure through the land of Oz by Dungeon Master Joe Nuzzo. Our players' goal? To recover a stolen artifact and return it to Glinda, the Good Litch of the South, before the thief uses it to strip magic from Oz FOREVER!

Prisoner 13 One Shot | Keys from the Golden Vault | D&D Beyond Join Dungeon Master Lexi McQueen and our heist crew Luis Carazo,  Omar Najam, Michael Galvis & Sarah Chaffee as they travel to Revel's End prison in search of the key to a dwarven fortune! Prisoner 13 is one of thirteen exhilarating heist-themed Dungeons and Dragons adventures in Keys From the Golden Vault. Vancover By Night Wavaw Charity Werewolf Stream- The Cubs are lost in the Umbra, what will happen? Who will save them? Is that an Ashtray?Special Guests, Mark Meer, Erika Ishii, Jake Kile, & Luis Carazo Saturday Night One-Shot: Call of Cthulhu | The Mummy: Redux | Charity Stream benefiting RAINN 95 years after Rick, Evelyn, Jonathan, and Ardeth defeat Imhotep and preventing him from resurrecting Anck-su-namun, six tourists in Spain stumble upon a secret hidden within the Temple of Debod. Bringing the Mummy's Curse down upon them... will they survive the ordeal? Cast:  Ian E. Muller (GM), Diana DiMicco as Phillipa Branch, Cynthia Marie as Mel Nais, Luis Carazo as Emmanuel "Manny" Martinez, Noordin Ali as Zahir Ayad Adham, Justus Hughes as Rick O'Connell, Andrew Strother as Roy Carnahan. 

Ms. Pixel's Fantastical Circus: Call of Cthulhu One Shot Saige Ryan takes Aabria Iyengar, Alex Ward, Emme Montgomery, Luis Carazo, and Kailey Bray through an eldritch nightmare beneath the Big Top. Luis plays against type as a selfish, trapeze artist contortionist Freddy who performs in Ms. Pixel’s circus along side his twin brother bobby. 

Longer Series, Main Cast: 

Good Time Society

Endymion's Gate (completed 6 episodes) ( cast  Ash MinnickI(story teller) Alejandra Cejudo, Luis Carazo, Xander Jeanneret, Aabria Iyengar and Becca Scott ) Join the crew of the starship Endymion as they embark on a mind-bending mission filled with mystery and intrigue as they navigate the dangers and wonders of Dream Space! Based on the Hillfolk system by Pelgrane Press, Endymion's Gate explores an original, science fiction TTRPG setting with a cast full of familiar faces that you'll recognize from throughout the roleplaying community! Each week  Story Moderator, Ash Minnick, leads the players through a surreal storytelling experience that will thrust them into a parallel universe of shared consciousness and dreams!  Come aboard and prepare yourself for Dream Space! 

Critical Role

Exandria Unlimited: Calamity (completed 4 part) The flying city of Avalir begins its triumphant return to the continent of Domunas while the Ring of Brass, a group of eminent city dignitaries, begin to uncover hints of something rotten within their gilded home. Cast: Brennan Lee Mulligan( Game Master), Luis Carazo, Aabria Iyengar, Marisha Ray, Sam Riegel, Travis Willingham, Lou Wilson.

Candela Obsurca chapter 2 ( premiere August 31 7PM PST) starting Luis Carazo, Marisha Ray, Travis Willingham, Brennan Lee Mulligan, Spencer Starke, Zehra Fazel. The Circle of Needle and Thread will face off against the duplicates threat that wreaks havoc on the war torn Fairelands. Season 2 is indecent of the events of Season one but if interested this is the link to candela Obscura chapter one (which he’s not in) to watch (3episodes, complete) to get an idea of the setting and game system.

Penny Arcade

Seattle by Night, Season 2 Welcome to the second season of our Vampire the Masquerade chronicles! Join us on Tuesdays at 5pm PT on twitch.tv/pennyarcade for a new live episode, or subscribe on YouTube for the latest videos as they go live. Starring Jason Carl as The Storyteller Mike Krahulik as Tom Hollandaise, Toreador Luis Carazo as Enrique "Rico" Suarez, Brujah Jasmine Bhullar as Betty Lancaster, Lasombra Jerry Holkins as Jamison Keen, Nosferatu

Catalyst Game Labs/RealmSmith

Series Intro | Shadowrun: Excommunication | Shadowrun RPG 2023 | RealmSmith (8 part) Shadowrun is a cyberpunk-fantasy ttrpg that takes place in our world, 60 years in the future. It combines cybernetic technology and magic in a dystopian setting. CAST: Anjali Bhimani as Trigger Christian Navarro as Rio Luis Carazo as Frayne Noura Ibrahim as Liv Talon Coleman as Blaze

Johnny Stanton IV

Of Dawn & Dusk(complete 4 episodes) Journey with us, as we take you on an adventure of Gods and mortals. Cast: Johnny Stanton(Dungeon Master),Persephone Valentine as Holly "Midnight" Danes( Kalashtar sorcerer/artificer/rouge ), Jasmine Bhullar as Mildred Mulvahill( hypochondriac dragonborn druid), Christian Navarro as Leo Goldleaf( half elf paladin, brother of Narrex ),Luis Carazo as Narrex of the Vatrai (half orc barbarian, brother of Leo).

Renegade Game Studios

Hunter: The Reckoning - The Day Shift (Complete 4 episodes) Hunter: The Reckoning is a horror tabletop role-playing game set in modern times, in which players take the roles of regular human characters who become aware of the existence of the supernatural, including vampires, werewolves, and ghosts, and fight back as monster hunters. It is set in the World of darkness (Vampire the masquerade, Werewolf the apocalypse, ect.)Cast: Diana DiMicco( storyteller),Luis Carazo, Briana DeCoster, Justus Hughes, and Markeia McCarty. Luis plays the most adorably dorky bookworm history professor... 

Questline

DragonLance: Shadow Of War (complete 4 parts) Cast:Kevin Parr (Dungeon Master), Luis Carazo as Velzin Alara(Half elf rune knight fighter), Michelle Nguyen Bradley as Strigid( Shifter Lunar sorcerer), Tank Tolman as Tyran Iron-Skull (Dwarven ancestral guardian barbarian), QuincysTavern as Felix "Clubfoot" Chance (Harengon arcane trickster rogue), Roz Young as Tango Flux(Rock gnome artificer), Trevor Gemma as Wayreth Rolligtide (Hill dwarf Druid).

ThatBronzeGirl

Mörk Bronze (Complete 4 episodes)-Welcome to Mörk Bronze: a Mörk Borg experience sponsored and powered by Role! Join us through trials and tribulations as these three unfortunate souls attempt to survive in the city of Unguent. Cast: Jasmine Bhullar(fire keeper),Tanya Depass, Luis Carazo, Xander Jeanneret.

Hunters Entertainment 

Outbreak: Undead.. is a Survival Horror Simulation RPG, focusing on practical experience and scarcity of resources - rather than sensationalist hero fulfillment. ZOMBV, the first entry of the Strain Series, is world book exploring opponents, a unique virus, locations, and rules to immediately jump into a game of Outbreak: Undead - with you and your friends at the center of the story

Outbreak: Undead- Strain Series: ZOMBV  (complete 4 episodes) Cast:B Dave Walters (DM), Luis Carazo, May Leigh, Markeia Mcarthy, Michelle Nguyen Bradley

Outbreak: Undead (season 1) Rag & Bone (complete 60 episodes)Cast: Noxweiler Berf(Game master) Luis Carazo, May Leigh, Markeia Mcarthy, Michelle Nguyen Bradley.  Luis plays as Lampwick-(or as the DM once put it bullshit Jesus, Luis RP in this is amazing).

Outbreak: Undead (season 2) United States of the Dead (Complete 13 ep) Cast: Noxweiler Berf (Game master) Luis Carazo, Sarah Chaffee, Michelle Nguyen Bradley, Markeia McCarty,Chelsea. (Luis becomes a main cast member after after the third episode were he is once again playing Lampwick SO do no watch unless you’ve finished season 1: rag and bone. Also season 2 and 3 are running at the same time like parallel events .

Outbreak: Undead (season 3 ) PROJECT NERO-(complete 12 ep) Cast: Noxweiler Berf(Game  Master), Luis Carazo, Sarah Chaffee, Michelle Nguyen Bradley, Markeia McCarty, Saige Ryan,May Leigh. Luis plays different characters(but as of yet not Lampwick in this season but still should watch as other characters from season 1 show up.)

Altered Carbon - Osaka Eternal (complete 3 episodes) In this transhumanist neo-noir vision of the future, the human mind is nothing more than digital codeDigital Human Freight saved and stored in a Cortical Stack, advanced technology that allows you to "re-sleeve" your entire consciousness into a new body. Cast: Xander Jeanneret (DM), Luis Carazo, Michelle Nguyen Bradley, Markeia McCarty, May Leigh.

Kids on Bikes: Autumn Rites (Complete  3 episodes)-Strange Adventures in Small TownsChoose your OWN destiny in this storytelling rules-light tabletop role-playing game where adventure is a bike ride away!​Kids on Bikes is a Collaborative World Building RPG set in small towns with big mysteries. Written and created by celebrated game designers Jon Gilmour (Dead of Winter, Atari: Centipede/Missile Command/Asteroids) & Doug Levandowski (Gothic Doctor, Seven Minutes in Hell). Cast: Mika Midgett (Game Master), Luis Carazo, Michelle Nguyen Bradley, Markeia McCarty, May Leigh.

Gods of Metal: Ragnarock - Masquerade of Madness (Complete 3 episodes, fist episode only)A bombastic heavy metal-inspired RPG of epic proportions. Bust out the D4's, turn up the volume and live out your rock fantasy! Cast: Ivan Van Norman (Game Master) Luis Carazo, Michelle Nguyen Bradley, Markeia McCarty, May Leigh.

Guest star

Vampire: The Masquerade - L.A. By Night ( first appearance in season 2 episode 6)  portraying  Nines Rodrigues the famous, charismatic, werewolf killing Brujah Anarch baron of Downtown/East Los Angeles and owner of the Last Round Bar.

ECLIPSE (S2) Episode 11: Escape from Vicom Station

#luis carazo #exu calamity #outbreak: undead #vampire: the masquerade - l.a. by night #LA by night #exu zerxus #zerxus ilerez #ttrpg live play #i remember seeing someone posting wanting something like this #paladin heart #i probably missed something #Lampwick(outbreak undead) #candela obscura #Bigby Presents: Glory of Giants #vampire the masquerade #Gods of Metal: Ragnarock #werewolf the apocalypse

[greenfrog04]

On a skeletally immature individual of Unaysaurus tolentinoi (Dinosauria: Sauropodomorpha) from the upper Triassic of southern Brazil

Published 6th July 2023

Study and identification of a fossil found in association with the Unaysaurus tolentinoi holotype revealed to belong to a junvenile of the same species.

Skeletal reconstruction of Unaysaurus tolentinoi based on a 2004 study

Source:

https://doi.org/10.1002/ar.25285

#fossil #paleontology #prehistoric #extinct #dinosaur #dinosaurs #science

[independenciaafropindoramica]

Referências

ANDERSON, Benedict. Comunidades imaginadas. São Paulo: Companhia das Letras, p. 12-32, 2008.

COLLINS, Patricia Hill. Pensamento feminista negro: conhecimento, consciência e a política do empoderamento. Boitempo editorial, 2019.

COLLINS, Patricia Hill. A interseccionalidade como teoria social crítica. Parte 1 – Delimitando as questões. São Paulo: Boitempo, 2022

CRENSHAW, Kimberlé W. Mapping the margins: intersectionality, identiy politics, and violence against women of color. In: Stanford Law Review, vol. 43, 1991.

DOS SANTOS, Gilvan Francisco. Catarina Paraguaçu. Nossa Senhora da Graça, 2020. Disponível em: <https://www.nsenhoradagraca.org/catarina-paragua%C3%A7u>. Acesso em: 7 jul. 2023.

DURKHEIM, Émile. As formas elementares da vida religiosa. 3.ed. Tradução de Joaquim Pereira Neto. São Paulo: Paulus, 2008.

FIGUEIREDO, Ângela. Carta de uma ex-mulata à Judith Butler. Revista Periódicus, v. 1, n. 3, p. 152-169, 2015.

FIGUEIREDO, Taiana; FONTES, Rafael. O caboclo, o dois de julho e o candomblé. Bahia com história, 2015. Disponível em: <http://bahiacomhistoria.ba.gov.br/?reportagem=reportagem-o-caboclo-o-dois-de-julho-e-o-candomble>. Acesso em: 7 jul. 2023.

FRASER, Nancy. Da redistribuição ao reconhecimento? Dilemas da justiça numa era “pós socialista”. Cadernos de Campo, São Paulo, n. 14/15, p. 231-239, 2006.

GONZÁLEZ, Lélia. A mulher negra na sociedade brasileira: uma abordagem político econômica. In GONZÁLEZ, L. Por um feminismo afro-latino americano.Rio de Janeiro: Zahar, 2020. p. 49-64.

GUERRA FILHO, Sérgio A. D. O Povo e a Guerra: Participação das Camadas Populares nas Lutas pela Independência do Brasil na Bahia. (Dissertação de Mestrado) Salvador: UFBA, 2004.

KILOMBA, Grada. Memórias da plantação: episódios de racismo cotidiano. Editora Cobogó, 2020.

LIMA, João Francisco de. A incrível Maria Quitéria. São Paulo: Nova época, 1977.

MOREIRA, Neuracy Maria de Azevedo. Maria Quitéria. Resgate de Memória, n. 2, jul. 2014.

QUINTANEIRO, Tania. Émile Durkheim. QUINTANEIRO, T., BARBOSA, ML O., OLIVEIRA, MG. Um toque de clássicos: Durkheim, Marx e Weber. Belo Horizonte, Ed. UFMG, 1995.

STAEUBLE, Irmingard. Emaranhados na ordem eurocêntrica do conhecimento: por que a psicologia é difícil de descolonizar. Cidade cidadã: entre o agente construtor e a agência construída, p. 89-97, 2007.

WEBER, Max. Sociologia da dominação. In: WEBER, Max. Economia e sociedade. Brasília: UnB, 1991. p. 187-223.

[claudiosuenaga]

Entrevista inédita com Augusto Mendes da Silva, cantor lírico, pintor e desenhista, autor das capas dos livros de Monteiro Lobato

Por Cláudio Tsuyoshi Suenaga

Não é todos os dias que temos a honra e o privilégio de conhecer um autêntico gênio. Aliás, podemos passar a vida toda sem jamais conhecer um. Foi em um dia agraciado que não só tive essa honra e privilégio, como ainda pude entrevistar e desfrutar de uma tão nobre e agradável companhia por quase duas horas.

Foi um outro gênio (que infelizmente não conheci, por ter falecido antes de eu ter nascido) que me conduziu a esse gênio. É que na época realizava pesquisas sobre a vida do escritor de ficção científica Jerônymo Barbosa Monteiro (1908-1970), e na velha agenda deste, a que tive acesso, constava o nome de um tal de Augusto Mendes da Silva. Sem saber se ainda estava vivo e qual seu paradeiro, procurei aleatoriamente pelo nome na lista telefônica da cidade de São Paulo, e lá estava. Liguei para o número e Augusto consentiu em me receber naquela mesma hora em sua casa (um verdadeiro palacete) e estúdio na rua Leonardo Nardez, paralela a República do Líbano e em frente ao Parque do Ibirapuera.

Esperava apenas que ele me falasse algo de Monteiro, com quem mantivera contatos esporádicos, mas logo me dei conta de que deixaria passar uma grande oportunidade se não entrevistasse o próprio Augusto, que naquele mesmo momento passou a ser minha prioridade.

O motivo do nome de Augusto Mendes da Silva (1917-2008) estar na agenda de Monteiro, era porque ele era o autor de todas as capas dos livros de ninguém menos do que Monteiro Lobato (1882-1948), outro pioneiro da ficção científica brasileira, para quem não sabe. Monteiro talvez almejasse que as capas de seus livros também fossem desenhadas por Augusto, que assinava como AVGVSTVS, classicamente, pois foi Augusto quem conferiu estilo e grandiosidade às capas dos livros de Lobato.

Ousada capa e contracapa em big-close de Augusto Mendes da Silva para o livro Reinações de Narizinho, de Monteiro Lobato.

Pintor e desenhista comercial (no que hoje seria chamado de artista gráfico), sua reconhecida especialidade era a representação humana. Fez mais de oitocentos retratos a óleo e crayon. Para as ilustrações das capas de Lobato, a base preta dos desenhos recebeu cores fortes, em combinações inusitadas, com ênfase nos enquadramentos arrojados, tal como a capa de Reinações de Narizinho, em big-close. As capas, que levava em média dez dias para terminar, certamente funcionavam como verdadeiros cartazes nas estantes das livrarias, com capa e contracapa ligadas por um único desenho. Incluídas no repertório de várias gerações de leitores de Lobato, até hoje essas imagens pops de AVGVSTUS publicadas de 1949 até por volta de 1971, são cultuadas e disputadas por bibliófilos e colecionadores.

Note a assinatura AVGVSTVS de Augusto Mendes da Silva logo abaixo do nome de Monteiro Lobato.

Augusto nasceu em Santos em 12 de setembro de 1916, mas viveu a maior parte de sua vida na cidade São Paulo, onde conheceria Lobato, vizinho de escritório. Muito cedo já sentia inclinação para o desenho. Foi o professor Máximo de Azevedo Marques que lhe deu as primeiras aulas de desenho, com as quais adquiriu sólida base. Nasceu então em Augusto a determinação de ser pintor. Conta ele que choveram críticas de todos os lados – pintor morre de fome, diziam. Um dia apareceu em casa um tio seu que era secretário de um grande desenhista comercial: Juracy Ulisses Campos. Seu tio então sugeriu que aplicasse o dom que possuía para o desenho na arte comercial, que era uma profissão bem remunerada. Augusto acabou se curvando à realidade e passou a se dedicar à arte comercial.

A arte comercial de Augusto Mendes da Silva sempre trazia muita arte consigo: propagandas para a Cervejaria Cerpa e para os Brinquedos Estrela.

Conforme ia recebendo mais encomendas e conquistando novos clientes, chamou a atenção da agência N. W. Auer, em cujo teste foi aprovado. No início teve que fazer estágios em tipografias, clicherias e estereotipias, até que finalmente começou a trabalhar na agência propriamente dita na sua função de desenhista. Seu talento era notório e não demorou a receber propostas de outras agências. Uma delas lhe ofereceu o dobro do que ganhava. Augusto aceitou o desafio, que, no entanto, não deu certo, e ele teve de voltar a ser freelance. Isso não o abateu, e logo recuperou sua clientela, que não parava de crescer. Augusto foi considerado um dos melhores desenhistas da época e chegou a ilustrar o Almanaque do Biotônico Fontoura.

O talento de Augusto ia além das artes plásticas como descobriria ao se apaixonar pela ópera e passar a se dedicar com afinco ao canto lírico. Barítono, gostava de citar as temporadas de Madame Butterfly e La Bohème (Puccini) e I Pagliacci (Leoncavallo), além dos recitais no Rio e em São Paulo, ao lado da esposa, a soprano Eva Espíndola (nascida em 1943), a quem também tive a honra e o privilégio de conhecer e entrevistar na ocasião, sendo agraciado inclusive com seus cânticos. Ao mencionar meu interesse pelos OVNIs (Objetos Voadores Não Identificados), Eva relatou uma experiência ufológica que vivenciara em Campo Grande (MS) em 1980.

A soprano Eva Espíndola e Cláudio Suenaga diante dos quadros de Augusto Mendes da Silva.

Augusto soube que a cantora lírica italiana Gabriella Besanzoni (1888-1962), registrada como contralto e casada com o empresário e industrial brasileiro Henrique Lage (1881-1941), mantinha no Rio de Janeiro uma escola gratuita para jovens com talentos. Sonhando em entrar para essa escola, recebeu uma proposta da Standard Propaganda para trabalhar justamente no Rio de Janeiro, que logicamente aceitou de imediato. Sua primeira atitude foi telefonar para Besanzoni que o encaminhou para um professor de canto, o Sr. Boscacci. Porém, para sua desgraça, Boscacci era tão incompetente que o deixou sem voz. Abatido, Augusto mergulhou na depressão.

Um dia decidiu reagir e pouco a pouco foi recuperando a confiança em si mesmo. Voltou a estudar canto, mas desta vez com um professor competente, e recuperou a voz. Certo dia do ano de 1942, viu anunciado no jornal a realização de um concurso para cantores líricos e não teve dúvidas: inscreveu-se. No dia do concurso estava tão nervoso que simplesmente não conseguia respirar. Cantou Nemico de la patria, da ópera Andrea Chénier, docompositor verista Umberto Giordano (1867-1948), ópera essa baseada na vida do poeta francês André Chénier, que foi executado durante a Revolução Francesa. Foi muito aplaudido e saiu vencedor. Em seguida estreou na ópera La Bohème, de Giacomo Puccini (1858-1924). Augusto sentiu então que já podia voltar para São Paulo, pois voltaria vitorioso.

Augusto Mendes da Silva diante de seu auto-retrato.

Montou um atelier na rua Xavier de Toledo. Pegou uma pasta com trabalhos e visitou várias agências de publicidade. No fim do dia voltou carregado de encomendas. Algum tempo depois fez uma prova com o violoncelista, pianista e maestro Armando Belardi (1898-1989), que o inscreveu no seu grupo, passando a tomar parte nas temporadas líricas, onde estreou em 1943 na ópera Lucia di Lammermoor, do compositor italiano Domenico Gaetano Maria Donizetti (1797-1848), no papel de Lord Enrico Ashton. Paralelamente, Augusto continuava trabalhando como desenhista para as grandes agências e editoras.

Foi em 1945 que começou a confeccionar o Almanaque do Biotônico Fontoura. Augusto não só fazia as capas e contracapas, mas na parte interna fazia praticamente tudo. Concebia as ideias, os títulos dos anúncios e as artes-finais. Cuidou do Almanaque durante nada menos do que 16 anos.

Augusto Mendes da Silva diante das várias capas que fez para o Almanaque do Biotônico Fontoura.

Almanaque do Biotônico Fontoura de 1950 assinada por AVGVSTVS.

Ainda em 1945, passou a fazer parte do cast da Rádio Gazeta, cantando na então famosa “Cortina Lírica”. Estava tudo indo muito bem quando um dia a direção resolveu acabar com o programa lírico, e assim, durante dois anos, Augusto ficou completamente afastado da música. Isso lhe causava uma sensação de vazio, no que decidiu voltar a cantar ainda que fosse como amador.

Certo dia, a sua colega Diva Alves lhe deu a notícia de que a TV Excelsior estava formando um quadro de cantores líricos. Apresentou-se para o teste e no mesmo dia assinou contrato. Tudo ia às mil maravilhas, quando o Victor Costa (1907-1959), dono da emissora, faleceu. O filho assumiu a direção e a primeira coisa que fez foi acabar com o programa lírico. Paralelamente, sua vida na arte comercial estava chegando ao fim. A fotografia começava a tomar conta do mercado e o serviço diminuía. Sua situação se tornou catastrófica, pois as duas coisas que melhor sabia fazer, desenhar e cantar, estavam lhe sendo negadas.

Cláudio Suenaga e Augusto Mendes da Silva. Foto de Eva Espíndola.

Aconteceu então o inesperado. Recebeu a incumbência de pintar o retrato a óleo do advogado e político Auro de Moura Andrade (1915-1982), conhecido como “o rei do gado”. Como presidente do Senado, Andrade foi o responsável por declarar vaga a Presidência da República por ocasião do Golpe Militar de 1964. Quando o deputado Emílio Carlos viu esse retrato, ficou entusiasmado e encomendou o seu próprio.

Daí em diante, Augusto não parou mais de pintar: naturezas-mortas, marinhas, paisagens e retratos religiosos com traços que transitam entre o acadêmico e o hiper-realismo. Foram encomendas e mais encomendas e é disso que seguiu vivendo. Premiado com mais de uma dezena de láureas em salões de artes paulistas desde 1976, Augusto pintou ao longo de sua prolífica carreira mais de mil obras, a maioria pertencente hoje a acervos, como os da Universidade de São Paulo (USP), Tribunal de Contas e Câmara Municipal de São Paulo.

Aos 85 anos, Augusto se mudou para Florianópolis levando o mesmo vigor e intensidade que o consagraram em São Paulo. E ainda continuava cantando, paixão que nunca abandonou.

#artes plasticas #pintura #desenho #música clásica #ópera #propaganda #almanaque #monteiro lobato #retratos #Youtube

[vrae23]

WORKS CITED

Yasmeen, Roheela, et al. “Zoochosis: A short review on stereotypical behavior of captive animals”. Journal of Wildlife and Biodiversity, Journal of Wildlife and Biodiversity, Vol. 7, no.2, 25 November 2022, 8–20. https://doi.org/10.5281/zenodo.7362442

2] Barbara Woods (2002) Good zoo/bad zoo: Visitor experiences in captive settings, Anthrozoös, 15:4, 343-360, DOI: 10.2752/089279302786992478 Wildlife within zoos is a delicate and debatable subject. Some researchers think keeping animals captive is necessary for lea rning, and even fun. Others find it repulsive and morally unethical. This article goes on to discuss experiences within visiting zoos, poor management of captive animals, poor service or management of the facility, and threatening behavior from animals. This source will help as I discuss the experiences that often happen within zoos.

3] Clubb, R., & Mason G. J. (2007) Natural behavioral biology as a risk factor in carnivore welfare: how analyzing species differences could help zoos improve enclosures. Applied animal Behavior Science, 102(3-4), 303-328. Many animals in captivity exhibit self-inflicted behavior due to anxiety and depression. Thus also, captivity affects a wild animals ability to naturally hunt. Part of the way to decrease these behaviors is enclosure sizes, cleanliness, how to better care for animals a nd ways to know reactions from them. Researchers take a deeper dive into this study by analyzing different species in order to assess ho w to better fit their needs. This source will come in great use when I discuss the inhumane sizes of enclosures at different zoos around the world.

4] Haque, A. (2011). Depression in caged animals: a study at the National Zoo, Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia. Zoo’s Print Magazine, 26(11), 25- 29. Psychologists’ aim in studying animal behavior is to bring forth knowledge of human physiology and learning ways. Experiments with animals also help psychologists understand human intelligence, stress, aggression, and reproductive behaviors. Zoos bring som e benefits to them, like better food supply and lower risk of predation, however there is a growing concern regarding negative condition s at the zoos and heightened interest in animal welfare. This source will be helpful when I explain how animals become depressed and anxiou s being in captivity over time.

5] de Azevedo, Cristiano Schetini et al. “Review of the Effects of Enclosure Complexity and Design on the Behaviour and Physiology of Zoo Animals.” Animals (Basel) 13.8 (2023): 1277-. Web. Different ways and variations created in a habitat environment for separate species. How animals are affected in their day to day lives. How mental health is affected by the types of enclosures given and the complexities of height, levels, design, format etc in each space. Animals are affected psychologically by their enclosures and it can increase or decrease depression if these enclosures are n ot healthy and in good size for them. This source proves the ways animals psychologically decrease in mental health.

[dopescissorscashwagon]

Snow-Covered rocks in Lake Tahoe California

📸 Wanda Azevedo

#Wanda Azevedo #W Azevedo #Snow-Covered #Rocks #Lake Tahoe #California #USA #Amazing #Beautiful #Nature #Travel #Adventure #Photography

[davidhaxtonblog]

Mass. highlights father of Northampton boy, 9 others, it says are wanted for failure to pay child support

BOSTON - A single mother from Northampton on Wednesday said her teenage son's father is "hidden underground" and needs to come forward to pay child support.

Mary A. Likins, 43, an mental health outreach worker for a private nonprofit agency, spoke at a press conference held by the state

Department of Revenue

to unveil the new "10 most wanted" poster of fathers who are evading child support. Likins put a human face on the state's effort to track down the absent fathers.

The father of one of her two sons, Gilbert Allen Smith, owes $41,800 in delinquent child support and is No. 7 on the new poster, the state alleges. Likins said she believes he is in North Carolina.

"Hope is the belief that good things will happen," said Likins, who did not marry Smith. "My hope today is that Gil will be found, that we can be paid our child support arrearage and that the state can be paid back."

Likins said she has been forced to rely on government aid over the years, including receiving welfare in the mid- to late-1990s. She separated from Smith in 1994, and he stopped paying child support on a regular basis in 1995.

A probate and family court on Cape Cod ordered him to pay $80 weekly to support his son, Dominik A. Likins, 15, a sophomore at Northampton High School.

Smith, 43, is wanted on charges of willfully failing to pay child support and leaving the state without making provisions to pay child support, according to Robert R. Bliss, spokesman for the state Department of Revenue.

The poster, the 15th released over the years, was presented by revenue Commissioner Navjeet K. Bal.

"The 10 individuals on this new poster, who together owe $733,481 in unpaid child support for 19 children, have willfully evaded their basic parental responsibility in terms of both financial and emotional support," Bal said. "They have left an incredible burden for custodial parents to bear, and they have left holes in the hearts of their children."

Dr. Ned C. Holstein, chairman of the board of directors of Fathers and Families in Boston, said the child-support system is another form of war on poor people. The system turns low-income fathers into criminals, he said.

"The child support orders are so high, we will see more and more of this, particularly with a recession," said Holstein, an internist in Boston. He said he believes child support should be paid by people who have the money.

The Revenue Department, which has a child-support enforcement division, has collected about $4.5 million in back payments from 104 parents who appeared on previous posters. A total of 122 parents, almost all men, have appeared on prior posters.

A former Westfield man who appeared on the 2007 poster, Brandon W. Swegan, was arrested in November for domestic assault in Iowa and arraigned in Springfield District Court. Police in Iowa discovered an outstanding warrant in Massachusetts.

According to the Revenue Department, Swegan pleaded guilty and was given probation for one year and credit for serving three months in jail. Swegan is living in Iowa, where authorities will monitor his probation, a revenue spokesman said. Next month, he is to start making weekly child support payments of $98 for two sons with his ex-wife from Springfield. Swegan must also stay in contact with the revenue department about his address and employment.

Christopher J. Lagos,

35, construction worker, lived in Plymouth, father of two; owes $196,434.

Eric A. Grenier,

35, construction worker, lived in Methuen, father of one; owes $188,733.

Terry L. Azevedo,

41, corrections officer, lived in Shirley; father of one; owes $69,122.

Fenton G. Lebon,

47, psychiatrist, lived in Salem, father of one, owes $54,573.

Asgaral Hassanali,

53, cook, lived in Brockton, father of one, owes $51,519.

Joel E. Cornish,

53, carpenter, lived in Foxboro, father of two, owes $42,003.

Gilbert A. Smith,

43, security guard, lived in Sandwich, father of one, owes $41,800.

Gerard R. Colucci,

44, restaurant manager, lived in Braintree, father of one, owes $32,074.

Bunroeun Min,

35, auto salesman, lived in Gloucester, father of five, owes $31,014.

Hanan H. Abitbul,

31, hair stylist, lived in Richmond, father of one, owes $26,209.

[pulkitguptablog]

Mass. highlights father of Northampton boy, 9 others, it says are wanted for failure to pay child support

BOSTON - A single mother from Northampton on Wednesday said her teenage son's father is "hidden underground" and needs to come forward to pay child support.

Mary A. Likins, 43, an mental health outreach worker for a private nonprofit agency, spoke at a press conference held by the state

to unveil the new "10 most wanted" poster of fathers who are evading child support. Likins put a human face on the state's effort to track down the absent fathers.

The father of one of her two sons, Gilbert Allen Smith, owes $41,800 in delinquent child support and is No. 7 on the new poster, the state alleges. Likins said she believes he is in North Carolina.

"Hope is the belief that good things will happen," said Likins, who did not marry Smith. "My hope today is that Gil will be found, that we can be paid our child support arrearage and that the state can be paid back."

Likins said she has been forced to rely on government aid over the years, including receiving welfare in the mid- to late-1990s. She separated from Smith in 1994, and he stopped paying child support on a regular basis in 1995.

A probate and family court on Cape Cod ordered him to pay $80 weekly to support his son, Dominik A. Likins, 15, a sophomore at Northampton High School.

Smith, 43, is wanted on charges of willfully failing to pay child support and leaving the state without making provisions to pay child support, according to Robert R. Bliss, spokesman for the state Department of Revenue.

The poster, the 15th released over the years, was presented by revenue Commissioner Navjeet K. Bal.

"The 10 individuals on this new poster, who together owe $733,481 in unpaid child support for 19 children, have willfully evaded their basic parental responsibility in terms of both financial and emotional support," Bal said. "They have left an incredible burden for custodial parents to bear, and they have left holes in the hearts of their children."

Dr. Ned C. Holstein, chairman of the board of directors of Fathers and Families in Boston, said the child-support system is another form of war on poor people. The system turns low-income fathers into criminals, he said.

"The child support orders are so high, we will see more and more of this, particularly with a recession," said Holstein, an internist in Boston. He said he believes child support should be paid by people who have the money.

The Revenue Department, which has a child-support enforcement division, has collected about $4.5 million in back payments from 104 parents who appeared on previous posters. A total of 122 parents, almost all men, have appeared on prior posters.

A former Westfield man who appeared on the 2007 poster, Brandon W. Swegan, was arrested in November for domestic assault in Iowa and arraigned in Springfield District Court. Police in Iowa discovered an outstanding warrant in Massachusetts.

According to the Revenue Department, Swegan pleaded guilty and was given probation for one year and credit for serving three months in jail. Swegan is living in Iowa, where authorities will monitor his probation, a revenue spokesman said. Next month, he is to start making weekly child support payments of $98 for two sons with his ex-wife from Springfield. Swegan must also stay in contact with the revenue department about his address and employment.

Here are the individuals on a new "10 most wanted" list of child support delinquents:

Christopher J. Lagos,

35, construction worker, lived in Plymouth, father of two; owes $196,434.

Eric A. Grenier,

35, construction worker, lived in Methuen, father of one; owes $188,733.

Terry L. Azevedo,

41, corrections officer, lived in Shirley; father of one; owes $69,122.

Fenton G. Lebon,

47, psychiatrist, lived in Salem, father of one, owes $54,573.

Asgaral Hassanali,

53, cook, lived in Brockton, father of one, owes $51,519.

Joel E. Cornish,

53, carpenter, lived in Foxboro, father of two, owes $42,003.

Gilbert A. Smith,

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[pedronews]

São Paulo vence América-MG com gols de Luciano, Calleri e Marcos Paulo na reestreia de Dorival Júnior.

O São Paulo conquistou sua primeira vitória no Brasileirão ao derrotar o América-MG por 3 a 0, neste sábado (22), no Morumbi. O jogo marcou a volta do técnico Dorival Júnior, que assumiu o comando técnico do Tricolor após cinco anos.

O primeiro gol saiu aos 20 minutos do primeiro tempo, com Luciano. O atacante aproveitou um erro de Marlon, que foi desarmado por Michel Araujo, e acertou um belo chute de fora da área. O segundo gol veio aos 36 minutos da etapa final, com Calleri. O argentino completou de carrinho um cruzamento rasteiro de Nestor pela esquerda. O terceiro gol foi marcado por Marcos Paulo, aos 43 minutos. O meia-atacante recebeu de Benítez na entrada da área e bateu no canto esquerdo do goleiro.

O São Paulo dominou a maior parte do jogo e criou várias chances de ampliar o placar. O América-MG teve algumas oportunidades de descontar, mas parou nas grandes defesas do goleiro Rafael, que foi um dos destaques da partida. O camisa 23 fez pelo menos quatro intervenções importantes e foi ovacionado pela torcida.

A vitória foi importante para o São Paulo, que vinha de uma eliminação na Libertadores e precisava se recuperar no campeonato nacional. O Tricolor chegou aos quatro pontos e subiu para a quarta posição na tabela. O América-MG segue sem pontuar e ocupa a lanterna da competição.

O próximo compromisso do São Paulo será contra o Atlético-GO, na quarta-feira (26), às 21h30, no Antônio Accioly. Já o América-MG enfrentará o Ceará, na quinta-feira (27), às 19h, no Independência.

Após o jogo, Dorival Júnior elogiou o time e a torcida e disse que espera fazer um bom trabalho no São Paulo. “Foi uma vitória merecida, com muita entrega e dedicação dos jogadores. A torcida nos apoiou o tempo todo e nos deu confiança. Estou feliz por voltar ao São Paulo e espero corresponder às expectativas”, afirmou o treinador.

SÃO PAULO 3 x 0 AMÉRICA-MG

Local: Morumbi, em São Paulo (SP)

Data: 22/04/2023 (sábado)

Gols: Luciano (20/1T), Calleri (36/2T) e Marcos Paulo (49/2T)

Cartões amarelos: Pablo Maia, Patryck, Raí Ramos, Luciano, Marcos Paulo Dorival Júnior (São Paulo); Lucas Kal, Everaldo e Éder (América-MG)

Público: 41.006 torcedores

Renda: R$ 1.554.942,00

Árbitro: Wagner do Nascimento Magalhaes (FIFA)

Assistentes: Thiago Rosa de Oliveira e Cristhian Passos Sorence

Quarto árbitro: Joao Vitor Gobi

VAR: Daniel Nobre Bins (VAR-FIFA)

 Fabricio Vilarinho da Silva (FIFA)

Assessor de Árbitros: Jose Mocellin

SÃO PAULO: Rafael, Raí Ramos, Arboleda, Beraldo e Patryck (Caio, 12/2T); Luan (Gabi, 12/2T), Pablo Maia, Nestor (Alisson, 30/2T) e M. Araujo (W. Rato, 21/2T); Luciano (Marcos Paulo, 30/2T) e Calleri. Técnico: Dorival Júnior

AMÉRICA-MG: Matheus Cavichioli; Nino Paraíba (Marcinho, 25/2T), Éder, Ricardo Silva e Marlon; Lucas Kal, Juninho, Martinez (Henrique Almeida, 38/2T); Matheusinho (Felipe Azevedo, 16/2T), Everaldo (Adyson, 16/2T) e Aloísio (Wellington Paulista, 25/2T). Técnico: Vagner Mancini.

Vaja fotos da partida:

#SPFC