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Grex > Books > #77: The Mysterious Quote - Fall 1998 Edition | |
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| 25 new of 207 responses total. |
mcnally
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response 157 of 207:
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Dec 4 23:03 UTC 1998 |
That sounds plausible. I'd be willing to bet that the writer is at
least a known political figure..
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polygon
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response 158 of 207:
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Dec 5 03:48 UTC 1998 |
Drat, I don't get to post the third quote -- a detailed eyewitness account
of a particularly turbulent stage of the French Revolution. I figured
that one would give it away, since Monroe was in Paris at the time as a
diplomatic representative of the United States.
Rane is correct that the writer is James Monroe (1758-1831), who was
President of the U.S. from 1817 to 1825, and correct that "L." stands for
Loudoun (County, in Virginia), but wrong about where Monroe went to live
with his daughter: it was in New York City, in the neighborhood now known
as the Lower East Side.
On a guided tour there a few years ago, the house where Monroe died, on
July 4, 1831, was pointed out. The letter posted in #130 was addressed by
Monroe, who was in New York, to James Madison, his predecessor as
President, and dated April 11, 1831. The "Mrs. M." in the letter refers
to Dolly Madison.
Obligatory Political Graveyard reference: Monroe was buried (or
really, entombed in an undergound vault) in Marble Cemetery, off 2nd
Avenue in New York City, but then reburied in 1858 in Hollywood
Cemetery in Richmond, Virginia. Michigan's first governor, Stevens
T. Mason, was also laid to rest in Marble Cemetery, and also removed
for reburial, in downtown Detroit in 1905. Marble Cemetery still
exists, but it's hard to see -- it has no street frontage (it's
literally in the middle of a block, surrounded by buildings) and is
not open to the public. To add to the confusion, there is another
unrelated Marble Cemetery a block away which does have some street
frontage.
The quote about the prime meridian dates from 1812, when Monroe was
Secretary of State and was asked to give a report on this subject by
Congress. I left out the parts where he emphatically declares "the
incompetency of his knowledge" on scientific subjects.
Rane is next.
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rcurl
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response 159 of 207:
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Dec 5 07:34 UTC 1998 |
While I am digging for a suitable quote (I'm currently reading _A Focus on
Peatlands and Peat Mosses_ by H. Crum, which is probably too obscure from
which to quote), I'd like to ask polygon what he has been reading by
or about Monroe, or is this a bit of research that came up with his
Political Graveyards studies?
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polygon
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response 160 of 207:
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Dec 5 13:24 UTC 1998 |
I suppose most of it came about through Political Graveyard research.
Recent email correspondence with a historian who also happens to be a
member of the Board of Trustees of Marble Cemetery has enhanced my
understanding of that cemetery's history. She originally contacted me to
correct the references to Marble Cemetery in my web site.
The tour of the Lower East Side of NYC, under the auspices of the Lower
East Side Tenement Museum, was conducted by Prof. James Shenton of
Columbia University.
Further, a biography of Monroe I picked up at a used book sale provided
the letter seen in #130. Because of my limited understanding of U.S.
political history in the first half of the 19th century, I have been going
out of my way to read up on it. The quotes about the prime meridian and
about the French Revolution were unearthed specifically for this item from
the 7-volume set of "The Writings of James Monroe", published in 1898,
which I located at the U-M library's storage facility on Greene Street.
Since Monroe's inaugural and State of the Union speeches are all on the
Web, I couldn't use those; any random phrase put to Alta Vista would
quickly turn them up.
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rcurl
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response 161 of 207:
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Dec 6 20:59 UTC 1998 |
"By about four in the afternoon we had crossed the summit of the
mountain line, said farewell to the western sunshine, and began to
go down upon the other side, skirting the edge of many ravines and
moving through the shadow of dusky woods. There arose upon all
sides the voice of falling water, not condensed and formidable as
in the gorge of the river, but scattered and sounding gaily and
musically from glen to glen. Here, too, the spirts of my driver
mended, andhe began to sing aloud in a falsetto voice, and with a
singular bluntness of musical perception, never true either to melody
or key, but wandering at will, like that of the song of birds. As the
dusk increased, I fell more and more under the spell of this artless
warbling, listening and waiting for some articulate air, and still
disappointed; and when at last I asked him what it was he sang - 'Oh,'
cried he, 'I am just singing!' Above all, I was taken with a trick he
had of unweariedly repeating the same note at little intervals; it was
not so monotonous as you would think, or, at least, not disagreeable;
and it seemed to breathe a wonderful contentment with what is, such
as we love to fancy in the attitude of trees, or the quiescence of
a pool."
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polygon
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response 162 of 207:
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Dec 7 03:34 UTC 1998 |
Jack London?
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rcurl
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response 163 of 207:
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Dec 7 05:44 UTC 1998 |
Not London, but like London, a male.
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remmers
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response 164 of 207:
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Dec 7 10:15 UTC 1998 |
Richard Haliburton?
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jep
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response 165 of 207:
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Dec 7 15:18 UTC 1998 |
Patrick McManus?
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polygon
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response 166 of 207:
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Dec 7 16:13 UTC 1998 |
J.R.R. Tolkein?
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rcurl
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response 167 of 207:
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Dec 7 17:58 UTC 1998 |
Do I presume you mean Richard Halliburton, the adverturer? Unlike
Halliburton, our author wrote both fiction and non-fiction, although
they were both well travelled, in fact to even some of the same ports.
However they could not have met, and only one would have known of the
other's writings.
Not McManus, but unfortunately I am not familiar with his work, so
I cannot offer contrasts. Also not Tolkein - they indulged in rather
different styles of fantasy.
I meant to comment on remmer's previous guess of London. It would be
interesting if a critic had compared London to the author. They could have
met and, in fact, briefly lived within a half-days journey of each other.
I am pretty sure that one was familiar with the writings of the other and
was probably influenced by them.
Now, to advance our story a little. I use only the initial for the name of
characters:
"F. served my meals in my own apartment; and his resemblance to
the portrait haunted me. At times it was not; at times, upon some
change of attitude or flash of expression, it would leap out upon
me like a ghost. It was above all in his ill-tempers that the likeness
triumphed. He certainly liked me; he was proud of my notice, which
he sought to engage by many simple and childlike devices; he loved
to sit close before my fire, talking his broken talk or singing his
odd, endless, wordless songs, and sometimes drawing his hand over
my clothes with an affectionate manner of caressing that never failed
to cause in me an embarrassment of which I was ashamed. But for all
that, he was capable of flashes of causeless anger and fits of sturdy
sulleness. At a word of reproof, I have seen him upset the dish of
which I was about to eat, and this not surreptitiously, but with
defiance; and similarly at a hint of inquisition. I was not unnaturally
curious, being in a strange place and surrounded by strange people;
but at the shadow of a question, he shrank back, lowering and
dangerous. Then it was that, for a fraction of a second, this rough
lad might have been the brother of the lady in the frame. But these
humours were swift to pass; and the resemblance died along with them."
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remmers
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response 168 of 207:
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Dec 7 19:17 UTC 1998 |
London was polygon's guess, not remmers' guess. Yes, I meant
Richard Halliburton, the adventurer.
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remmers
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response 169 of 207:
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Dec 7 19:38 UTC 1998 |
It's difficult to deduce the period from the quotes, but if the
author could have known London, that pins it down to late 19th
or earlier 20th century. The spelling of "humours" suggests that
the author is from somewhere in the British Commonwealth.
I'll guess Robert Louis Stevenson. The dates and nationality are
about right.
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polygon
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response 170 of 207:
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Dec 7 20:52 UTC 1998 |
Lawrence Durrell.
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rcurl
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response 171 of 207:
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Dec 7 21:22 UTC 1998 |
Stevenson is correct. This is one of the 'lesser known' short stories
published by Stevenson, titled _Olalla_, in 1885, when he was in poor
health in Bournemouth. During the same period he also wrote _Kidnapped_
and _The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde_. Of course I picked
Olalla as being more obscure than those two. I thought I had diverted
attention from Stevenson with the (less widely known) information that he
had lived (in San Francisco) near London (in Monterey) when London was ca.
3 years old.
Your turn, John.
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remmers
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response 172 of 207:
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Dec 8 01:15 UTC 1998 |
"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times..."
Um, no, too easy.
<remmers ponders>
Okay, here goes:
Helena came over on a hot July day. She was of that
particular breed which has always made me feel in-
adequate. Tallish, so slender as to be almost, but
not quite, gaunt. The bones that happen after a few
centuries of careful breeding. Blond-gray hair,
sun-streaked, casual, dry-textured, like the face,
throats, backs of hands, by the sun and wind of the
games they play. Theirs is not the kind of cool
that is an artifice, designed as a challenge. It is
natural, impenetrable, and terribly polite. They
move well in their simple, unassuming little two-
hundred-dollar dresses, because long ago at Miss
Somebody's Country Day School they were so thor-
oughly taught that their grace is automatic and
ineradicable. There are no girl-tricks with eyes
and mouth. They are merely there, looking out at
you, totally composed, in almost exactly the way
they look out of the newspaper pictures of social
events.
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remmers
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response 173 of 207:
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Dec 8 15:11 UTC 1998 |
One hint for now: Author is dead American male.
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aruba
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response 174 of 207:
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Dec 8 18:16 UTC 1998 |
Random guess: John Cheever?
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kaifiyat
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response 175 of 207:
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Dec 8 18:53 UTC 1998 |
a wild guess - JFK
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rcurl
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response 176 of 207:
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Dec 8 20:24 UTC 1998 |
John Updike.....whoops, he's probably still alive.
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remmers
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response 177 of 207:
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Dec 8 21:07 UTC 1998 |
Updike is indeed alive and still writing.
Not John Cheever, not JFK.
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polygon
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response 178 of 207:
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Dec 8 21:40 UTC 1998 |
Robert Penn Warren.
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remmers
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response 179 of 207:
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Dec 9 01:42 UTC 1998 |
Not Robert Penn Warren.
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remmers
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response 180 of 207:
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Dec 9 12:17 UTC 1998 |
Another quote from the same work. I've suppressed the name of the
locale in the last paragraph because... because... well, because
that's just the way I am.
I hung up wondering why they didn't think about the
bottom of the lake. She'd had a try at about everything
else except jumping out a high window. What was the word?
Self-defenestration. Out the window I must go, I must go,
I must go...
Then some fragment of old knowledge began to nudge at the
back of my mind. After I had the eleven o'clock news on
the television, I couldn't pay attention because I was
too busy roaming around the room trying to unearth what
was trying to attract my attention.
Then a name surfaced, along with a man's sallow face,
bitter mouth, knowing eyes. Harry Simmons. A long talk,
long ago, after a friend of a friend had died. He'd added
a large chunk onto an existing insurance policy about
five months before they found him afloat, face-down, in
[name of location deleted].
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wgm
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response 181 of 207:
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Dec 9 22:23 UTC 1998 |
Sounds like it might be Raymond Chandler (The lady in the lake?)
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