When I Saw God...

I have been working on a teaching and began to wonder how people see God differently.  It reminded me of when I was a kid and did performances with my family.  We were often referred to as the Von Blacks.  Well, one show each of us had a different line about how people see God.  I thought I would inquire how you all see him and why?  Then, see if you found your evidence in life or in the Bible.  Just some thoughts.  The poem we did is below for ideas: 

When I saw god he had a long white beard and he brought me gifts at the end of the year, but the big one comes in the by and by from the Santa Claus up in the sky

When I saw god he was vending machine, you drop in a coin and he makes the scene. Push the right button and what have you got? Instant first aid right on the spot

When I saw god he was in a museum kept under glass where I could go see him. It's such a comfort to see him there he's near to me and not off somewhere

When I saw god he was a silver lining although that does seem quite confining. Its such a comfort to see him there he's near to me and not off somewhere

God is love, god is light God is faithful day and night he is eternal, he never changes though the seas rise up to cover mountain ranges.

Now that we’ve discussed our thoughts, His size, His shape, and what we’ve been taught, let’s take a pause and take a look and see what it says in the old, old, book.  

Let’s hear your thoughts. 

My first short story in French...really

Une l’histoire de l’amoure rare

Par Andria Black

Part 1 : Le Commence

C’est une grand ville avec un bon nombre des lampes fonctionnant le long de la rue, comme une barrière de piquets blancs qui allument les rues avec une lumière blanche et un éclairage créant une beauté seulement trouvée dans les histoires, ou le pittoresque est cache des yeux.  La nuit envahissante, sombre, couvre la ville avec ses ténèbres de peur et de grand désir qui se dépliante rue, comme s’elles suivaient le spectateur avec un seul but de le chasser à l’improviste, intensifiant ainsi l’impression troublante qu’il n’es pas solitaires résonnant sur les mures des petits magasins caches derrière la clôture de piques de grève de lumière, envoyant un signal au ses ennemie qu’il s’est fais dans la ville de mensonges, chaque pas devient un mémento pour ces grandes rues qui bruissaient d’activité ce matin même mais étaient silencieuses pour la nuit.   

À gauche, les petites magasins fonte floc ensemble, chaque apparence d’être plat comme un ballon dégonflé, mais a un coup d’œil plus proche contourne la surface rugueuse des mure et des toits pointus qui heurtent la terre  pour permettre à la chute de neige d’avoir l’air de ressembler aux petites collines roulantes que l’homme a fait dans les magasins.  Même dans les ténèbres il est évident que chaque magasin d’une couleur différente de l’arc-en-ciel brillante, qui, dans des circonstances normales, donnerait une atmosphère gai à la ville, couvrirait les mensonges des étrangers mais ce soir-la elle ajoutait seulement au malaise caché dans les coins sombres.  Devant chaque magasin se trouve une cour d’herbe ouverte et carrée avec des fleurs aux couleurs du magasin qui accueille chaleureusement les nouveaux acheteurs au milieu la hauteur de la journée, alors, que le soir elles deviennent des mémentos grotesques de tout le bien qui pourrait être perdu a l’obscurités pour toujours. 

À droit, une église se tient, grande comme une montagne et aussi fermée que la boite de Pandore, avec un clocher qui sonne chaque heure longe et envahissant, dont les carillons mélodieux, son un mémento au temps limite qui reste pour le trouver « l’Un » (quoique ce soit supposé signifier) et conquérir Le Sombre, le Père des Mensonges.  Les gargouilles aux visages riants sure le toit a cote des aiguillées pointues sont une peinture étrange debout a la scène de Disney de l’autre cote, encore c’est l’église qui semble correspondre le mieux pour fournir un sanctuaire étrange dans ses ténèbres.  L’architecture très ornée et détaillée est d’un bronzage ennuyeux et marron avec des ténèbres sombres et mystérieuses créés comme d’autres sont la perdu chaque fois qu’il change de points de vue et de tours lui rappelant ainsi qu’il simplement insignifiant et indigne mais aussi capable de la tache devant avant lui. 

Part 2 : La Parcelle de Terrain S’épaissit

Comme Zachary marchait dans les rues sombres, il s’est rappelé un temps il n’y a pas longtemps où il était juste un garçon de ferme qui habitait dans une petite ville oubliée, où le Festival annuel des Moissons était aussi aventureux que les plus passionnants contes folkloriques ; où les filles dansaient pendant que les garçon luttaient à l’épée.  Il avait travaillé à la ferme sa vie entière, il était grand, musclé, bien bâti ; ses chevreaux blondes et ses yeux bleus, rares dans son petit village, le faisaient plus beau que les autres garçons, bien qu’il ait été timide autour des filles.  Comme il a réfléchi à ce qui semblait maintenant il y a une vie, il s’est rappelé Alexia, sa fiancée et la fille la plus belle dans le village ; elle avait des chevreaux longs, n’ondules et les yeux bleus les plus intense qui pouvaient hurler, pouvaient pleurer, et pouvaient encourager tout avec seulement un regard. 

Les six derrières mois Zachary avait été pris par une quête de proportions énormes, pour trouver une personne sur la Terre avec le cerveau, l’agilité, et la force pour battée le Père de Mensonges ; mais cette quête l’avait le sépare de son amour, de sa famille, et de sa ferme.  Aujourd’hui, il voyageait de ville en ville, chantant parfois pour la pension, les autres fois faisaient des travaux sur les fermes ou racontant les histoires de vieux, et courant après ce qu’on peut seulement décrire comme un demi ogre et demi géant.  Il donnerait n’importe de quoi pour encore tenir Alexia dans se bras.  Son père lui moquaient, il était à la tête de conseil municipal, et homme aventureux, Zachary a souhaite qu’il n’avait jamais trébuchée sur le Livres des Vieux, il a souhaité que sa curiosité ne le pousse pas à le prendre au conseil et à la porter volontaire pour l’aventure…curiosité lui avait toujours attiré une foule d’ennuis. 

Pendant ses contres années à l’école, chez Zachary s’était réveille un désir de voir au-delà de son petit village, d’essayer des histoires et de devenue un héros dont les histories son écrites, il a même pouvez son désir une fois où il a joué une plaisanterie cruelle sur le maire de la ville (le père d’Alexia) en faisant semblant qu’elle avait été enlevée et qu’il aérait secoure ; ceci était quant il a su qu’il l’aimait.  Ce tour a montré à Zachary qu’Alexia n’était pas juste belle mais intelligent aussi ; qu’elle comprenait et qu’elle compatissait quant elle est allée réconforter son père et tout s’est bien terminé a réglée juste.  Zachary est parti du village avec la pensée qu’Alexia ne devait pas faire partie d’une telle aventure dangereuse, cependant elle l’avait suivi et il se demandait ce soir si elle était vraiment celle il chérait, celle quo battrait L’Etre de Ténèbres et unirait le monde pour l’homme de nouveaux.

Part 3 : Espoir Perdu

Les pensées de Zachary ont été soudainement interrompues par un dièse perçant, un cri qui a résonne dans toutes les rue malfamées sombres ; il s’est alors tourne vers ce cri juste à temps pour voir l’amour de sa vie balayée par ces monstres affreux qui avaient été un inconvénient réalité depuis cette nuit terrible dans le village.  Il a couru après elle, dessinant son épée avec la force de cent mille hommes, un cri de guerre, profond et fort, a jailli de ses lèvres avec une intensité qui l’a étonne lui-même ; tout ce à quoi Zachary pouvait penser était ce qui lui arriverait s’il perdait Alexia.  Il est venu sur les monstres juste pendant qu’Alexia était remise au Magicien, une bande de bandits et de monstres ont chargé  sur lui ; il avait été attiré dans un guet-apens, et avec chaque mouvement brusque de son corps et chaque plongeon de son épée il a lentement perdu l’espoir.

« Combattez pour moi, mon amour, et sachez que si vous réussissez non seulement mon cœur sera à vous, mais nous nous marierons et cous aurez tout, mon esprit et mon corps, parce que sans vous je ne suis rien, » les pleurs d’Alexia encourageaient Zachary, lui donnant la force de continuer à combattre et à détruire son ennemi.  Comme elle l’a encouragée et que ses ennemis ont vu le changement de son combat, ils ont pris Alexia, et, par la magie ou autre chose, ils l’ont soulevée en n’air, une lueur verdâtre l’a encerclée et elle a été saisi au coup d’air.  Zachary a craint pour sa vie et a combattu à la foncée, il a émis un rire de la raillerie, dur et sombre, mais ses yeux étaient en contact constant avec Alexia. Ceci avait lieu à ce moment où Zachary a trouve une faiblesse à l’obscurité de sa puissance, il a dû casser le contact des yeux pour que le charme arrête de l’affecter. 

Ce qu’il pouvait faire, il ne le savait pas, la vie entière et les vies du monde étaient en jet, tout ce qu’il avait c’était son épée faible et un cœur plein d’amour pour Alexia contre ce magicien aux proportions mauvaises.  L’esprit de Zachary s’est emballé avec les possibilités inutiles.  Inopinément, la lueur verte qui a entouré Alexia a commencé à faire une chose étrange (elle attrapé Zachary et le magicien par surprise), la lumière s’est changée en or miroitant, alors Alexia l’a libérée des mains de sa gorge et a lentement commencé à tourner dans le ciel.  Zachary ne savait pas si c’état une bonne ou mauvaise chose, il avait espère casser le contact des yeux fermés à clef sur Alexia ; abruptement la lumière a commencé à tirer hors d’elle les monstres et les bandits déstructure, mais rien n’a semble nuire le foncé.

Des cris perçants, aigues, se sont ajoutés au chaos de la bataille, le sang a suinté autour de lui, dégageant une odeur putride, faisant vomir Zachary ; la lumière entrouvrent Alexia était si lumineux qu’il était presque heureux qu’il a dû vomir.  Autrement il était sûr qu’il deviendrait aveugle.  Aussi soudainement qu’il a commencé, a le léger aveuglement cesse et Alexia a dérive lentement vos la terre où elle s’est effondrée dans un tas ; oubliant sa maladie, Zachary a jailli à ses pieds et a marché pour l’attraper.  La berçant dans ses bras, il pouvait juger à quel point elle était faible ; il ne savait pas ce qui lui était arrive, mais il était sûr que le magicien l’avait causé, pourtant quand il a regardé autour pour le défier avait disparu ; Zachary a juré qu’il détruirait le mal comme vengeance pour ce qu’il avait fait à Alexia, même si c’était la dernière chose qu’il ferait jamais.

Part 4 : Espoir René

Zachary a examiné la terre autour de lui, prenant dans chaque détail la manière dont les lumières ont jeté les ombres foncées sur la scène triste où une odeur lui rappellerait pour toujours une obscurité qui ne quitterait jamais les profondeurs de son âme parce que le magicien avait fait plus de mal qu’Alexia, il avait détruit une tache autrefois pure dans le cœur de Zachary.  Zachary a étendu Alexia, mettant sa tète sur une pièce rapportée d’herbe molle et lui donnait son sanglant manteau comme oreiller ; il a brandi son épée, et a crie « je vous détruirai, ou donnerez ma vie en essayant ! » et quelque part du vent a soufflé  une brise  qui a semblé rire de lui.  « Vous ne pouvez pas réussir tout seul, cous comprenez cela, pas vous » une voix douce a appelé du lit de décalage de marque à ses pieds ; « je dois le combattre, c’est mon destin ; Je serai toujours entrelacé avec lui jusqu'à ce que l’un de nous soit détruit. »

« Tu es juste une fille d’un petit village, pourtant tu avec créé d’une façon ou d’une autre le carnage autour de nous sans tirer une épée, mais vous êtes aussi faible que si vous aviez combattu chacun de ces monstres…comment cela peut-il être ? » Un précaire sourire a traversé le visage d’Alexia qui a humilié Zachary et l’a effrayé d’un seul trait, il lui a semblé comme si elle l’avait connu mieux que lui-même, qu’elle pouvait voir profondément dans son âme et savait tous ses secrets, mais surtouts il y avait dans le sourire un amour passionné comme celui qu’il ressentait pour elle.  « La Lumière m’a donné la capacité d’armer toute la haine, toute la douleur au-dessous des milles de trente et de les convertir, je ne suis pas tout à fait sûr comment, en une énergie, positif et forte, qui peut détruire tout l’obscurité placée dans mon chemin….ce qui est pourquoi il a couru, il est effrayé ; il sait que je suis celui qu’il a senti sa vie entière qui pourrait le détruire. »

Comme si conduit dans un orchestra une ombre foncée s’est moulée sur la lune, emportant toute la lumière du ciel ; un tremblement de terre a commencé à envoyer le vol de Zachary loin d’Alexia et l’obscurité s’est développée si fortement qu’on pourrait la sentir danse les os. « Elles est lui ! » la voix d’Alexia est venue grondant étonnamment fort, et une lueur vacillante, faible, a commencé à travers le canon séparant les deux amoureux ; le cœur de Zachary s’est arrête pendant quelques secondes paralysé, par la crainte pour sa vie et celle de con amour.  Les nuages foncés les entourant ont commencé à prendre une nouvelle forme ; soudain, obscurité s’est tenue devant le couple, plus fortement que jamais, et a commencé à croiser vers Zachary dans l’intention de détruire chaque fibre de son être ; cependant, avant qu’elle ne puisse toucher Zachary avec son petit doigt, la lueur entourant Alexia est devenue brillant. 

Le magicien, se rétrécissant déjà dans la taille, s’est tourné vers la lumière et a moulé une ombre ainsi Zachary foncé ne pourrait pas voir à Alexia ; ainsi il pourrait voire que cette bataille n’avait pas été combattue avec les armes, une force invisible, mais par quelque chose d’invisible, quelque chose qu’il ne pourrait pas comprendre. Les deux ennemis se sont tenus l’un devant l’autre, visiblement s’affaiblissant à chaque minute ; Zachary a essayé de fonctionner vers Alexia, essayant désespérément de l’aider, mais il a trouvé son chemin barré par un mur invisible, et tout ce qu’il pouvait faire était de se tenir délaisse et regardé, a prévoyant la destruction qui était sûre de se produire.  Comme s’il avait vu la manière de détruire la lumière, l’ombre du magicien est devenue d’une taille gargantuesque, mais tout aussi rapidement qu’il est apparu il s’est trouvé complètement morte aux pieds de Zachary. 

Assommé, Zachary a lentement marché vers la masse de la mort à ses pieds, la seule évidence qu’une bataille s’étaient produite était les marques noires de scortch et les chiffrons foncés qui son demeurés de leur ennemi, il l’a pris autrefois pour réaliser la manière d’Alexia chiffonnée dans une pile de nouveau, fragile et presque mort.  Il a couru à elle, des questions fonctionnant dans sa tête pourtant incapable de dire un mot, l’ont saisi et jugé  lui pour il était sûr qu’elle ne survivrait pas la nuit, et lentement basculé lui frottant dans les deux sens ses chevreau et visage, le souhaiter était lui.  « Il est mort, le monde est placé bien de nouveau, et ma mission, mon destin a été accompli et tout est en réglé » elle que les mots on effrayé, il a désespérément voulu qu’elle survécût, il d’était rien sans elle, en réponse à ses pensées elle a dit « ne t’inquiet pas, j’irai bien ; la Lumière m’a donné le Temps de vivre par vie normale avec un amour…Zachary, je suis vôtre. » 

Music, Military and Festivals - Part 3 of Requested Article

IV.             Music, the Military and Festivals: The Importance of the Band in Banal Nationalism

Because institutions play a large role in the development of a national identity, much of the social-science research on institutions has focused on the role of the military and its ability to unite a nation in times of war, the state’s ability to mobilize the energies of its soldiers, and the connection between nationalism and war (Posen, 1993; Stern, 1995; Evera, 1994).  Research has considered the standard operating procedures of the institution (SOPs) – both the obvious and more subtle – and how the military is viewed by the people of the state.  When considering the role of the military band, most researchers look to the traditional role of the band to announce the army’s presence on the battlefield and music’s ability to help soldiers “ward of fatigue, inspire[e] heroism, mak[e] their enemies tremble, and ultimately decide[e] the outcomes of battle” (Kastner, 1855:45, 47), as seen in case of the French National Anthem Marseillaise.  Logically, the primary focus of the research centers on how the military band interplays with specific military functions; but, this narrow review fails to consider how the band affects other social aspects such as state sponsored festivals, funerals and celebrations.    

As Billig argues, banal nationalism plays an essential role in the development of a national identity.  Banal nationalism is the flag hanging from the bakery, the politicians “God bless the (fill in the nation)” in his inaugural speech, and the national anthem played at sporting events.  This form of nationalism plays an essential role in the minds of citizens giving them “pleasure-saturated reminders” of the possibility to serve (Billig, 1995:175).  This form of nationalism was crucial to the French military throughout the eighteenth and nineteenth century, in times of piece and war.  Yet, as Hobsbawm argues, tradition is invented, the practice and rituals of the military all were invented to create certain values and norms of behavior through a justification of the past (Hobsbawm, 2003).  Just as these norms were crucial for the solider, the same traditions (and many different ones for the musician) were instilled in the bandsman as well. 

A nation’s military success or failure is a critical element in the examination of a nation’s nationalism.  For France, the military was committed to the battlefield quasi-continuously throughout the nineteenth century.  France had fought in the Franco-Prussian War, had multiple revolutions, and was continually at war with Europe under Napoleon.  This made the military and its band an essential institution in the minds of the French.  Wielding a French horn became inseparable from wielding a mitrailleuse.  The band grew to symbolize national strength, grandeur and glory.  Gradually the German musicians that first populated the military band were replaced with musicians “locally trained” at the Conservatoire (J.B., 1890).  This step removed the perceived foreign dross from an institution that needed to be seen as distinctively French in nature.  At the same time these musicians were becoming uniquely French, the state began to use the band in less militaristic roles such as funerals, festivals and celebrations.  By expanding the exposure of the band to the civilian populace the state gained audience for a state sponsored message.

In times of peace, the military band was used by the state to encourage its people and to infuse citizens with pride in the nation which was best accomplished through the use of festivals.  Attendance of these festivals could often be vast with as many as 300,000 representatives from eighty-three departments present at any one festival (Pasler, 2009:109-10).  No matter the purpose of the festival, music was always the focal point of ceremonies.  Music would structure the procession and once the procession ceased, the people would join in singing as a form of ratifying “the ideal of the common will in harmony with the will of the organizers” (Pasler, 2009:110-11).  Music created an imagined community through the act of participation giving the people a way in which they could identify with current events. 

The military band through festivals created a three-prong legacy.  First, the band made the populace aware of its presence and identity through participation in song.  Much like Anderson’s argument that newspapers allowed citizens to imagine every other citizen doing the same thing at the same time, musical pieces at festivals allowed citizens to participate in the same activity at the same time thereby contributing to a unified national mindset.  Second, the band legitimized the government at festivals.  Each festival allowed for the government to use its bands, the musicians from the Conservatoire, and often stars of the Opéra.  The state was able to commission works and composers which focused on its success.  Finally, the music involved at the festival was seen as useful to the state to create an emotive feeling toward the nation and durable because the pieces would be played long after the festival had ended (Pasler, 2009:232-3).   The state would often commission composers to create works to be played outdoors for the nation to hear – this began a transition in music toward bugles and drums because of their ability to carry sound.

The state used the emotive power of the military band to unify the citizenry under one flag (Pasler, 2009).  As with any well planned battle strategy, the state would seek out composers sharing the same views as the state and commission those composers to create centerpiece compositions selling the position of the government.  For the state the primary focus of these pieces was the political ideology.  For the composer it was expression of the art.  One of France’s most highly admired composers to be used by the state was Hector Berlioz.  Berlioz (composer, critic, and teacher) once wrote in an essay entitled On limitation in Music that “it was never his intention to paint pictures or tell stories in music, but rather to explore emotions” (Langford, 2000:54).  Additionally, due to his critiques of other composers who did not follow the French model the state wanted to use his work (Langford, 2000). The state understood this emotive connection and utilized it to its fullest.

Festivals were particularly important to the French government because they created a sense of community; the state saw the band as fulfilling a ceremonial purpose of creating unity (Langford, 2000:65).  One of the most important festivals was the one held in remembrance of the three-day revolution of July 1830.  The Minister of Interior, Charles de Rémusat commissioned Berlioz to provide music for the procession and conclusion of the festival at which the remains of the victims of the revolution were exhumed and transported for reburial beneath the monument at the Place de le Bastille.  Berlioz found inspiration for the works in patriotic music written for outdoor celebrations during the Revolution and the Napoleonic Empire (Langford, 2000:66).  Berlioz wrote a seven movement symphony for the occasion entitled Grande Symphonie funèbre et triomphale.  Critics, audiences, and Berlioz’s usual detractors all thought this was the best piece he had ever composed, though musicologists believe this was due to the work’s “basis of immediate accessibility and overall simplicity of style – all hallmarks of traditional French patriotic music” (Langford, 2000:66).  The state was able to use music and the military band to capitalize on the patriotism of the French people thereby increasing state prestige in the minds of the citizenry. 

Musicologists have shown the military band also played a role in the construction and maintenance of French identity throughout the French colonies.  Music performed by the bands in new theatres especially helped the Algerians to assimilate into the French culture (Pasler, 2009:401).  In the Algerian colony, the band provided entertainment through French music, but also used the Moorish sounds to blend the two cultures and aid in assimilation.  A clear example is Saint-Saëns’s Rhapsodie mauresque, set in a Moorish café amid dancing while still suggesting the French military presence in Algiers through the traditional French use of horns and drums.  The opening prelude, as well as the closing, used the bugle horn; the second piece used a pompous and lively French military march.  The structure of the piece was designed to deliver the French message while highlighting the colonial musicology by blending the two concepts the state and its political song in a musical language understood by its colonists.  The military band aided in the construction of the French imagined community by strengthening the notion of “French-ness” in the minds of the colonists as well as at home.  The use of the band at national festivals and celebrations allowed the state to have a strong presence in the minds of the people. 

Although these observations of the military band are useful in the examination of music and French nationalism, the examination falls short in a number of areas.  Once again, musicologists largely limit their research to Paris with only a passing consideration of outlying areas such as the colonies.  This is an addictive trail to follow as the band was supplied by the Conservatoire and most large festivals were held in Paris.  Because the examination is so limited it does call into question musicologists’ claims that the band was a national tool.  Additionally, this approach does not focus on the way the military was used in general in conjunction with the band (Buruma, 2004; Anderson, 2006; Hobswbawm, 1968, 1990).  Again, a thorough investigation of institutions is missing from this narrative.  Social scientists have shown that the military itself is an institution that is used to create uniformity and emotive connections to the state and its members (Anderson, 2006; Stern, 1995) through such SOPs as chanting war songs and military drills that create brotherhood on the field - most of which the citizen does not see.  The musicologist’s approach does not show how music fulfills this role within the military institution itself, nor within the state of France. 

Moreover, this approach does not consider how the military was viewed in general.  France was in constant turnover in nineteenth century going through numerous republics, monarchs, empires, and revolutions – all violent.  The state always used military backing in hopes of keeping their place of power.  Therefore, depending on which side of the battle one was on, the view of the military could be drastically affected.  If one did not support the state, they very well may not have supported the military and may have seen the band as only an extension of the institution they did not support.  This has been seen in the many revolutions during the nineteenth century, the desertions of the Napoleonic army that continuously plagued the French state.  With such instances as the peasant self-mutilation of the first two fingers to prevent being able to fight (Cobb, 1970:96-7) to flight and desertion (Scott, 1985:30-40) it is not such a far stretch of the imagination to think the view of the state influences the view of the military and its band. 

Additionally, the view of the peasantry toward the military has not been considered in the musicologists’ approach.  Many peasants saw the military as a way to provide for themselves and to climb the social ladder, not as a unifying institution (Scott, 1976; Weber, 1976).  Peasants could have fallen on one side of the state politically and joined the military only for its ability to provide, creating a conflict within the citizen for which the band could not provide an antidote.  The use of the band in overcoming these views is not considered, and therefore, musicologists fall short once again. 

The military as an institution plays a role in the development and continuation of the nation.  Musicologists have shown that music used by the band in the military, especially at festivals, plays an important role in the development of the nation (both within the band and in the public that hears its music). However, their focus centrally on Paris and lack of indepth understanding of SOP’s makes their contribution to nationalism limited at best.  However, the exclusion of music within the military band by social scientists limits their understanding of the role of the military in nation formation, creation, and why people would go to war to die for their nation (as recent research tries to answer).  It is only by uniting these disciplines that the role of the military in nation formation can truly be understood.  

Courage: Part 1-2

Keira lay on her bed attempting the culmination to a story she no longer felt was worth the effort.  Writer’s block was more than a wall that hindered her progress; it was a war she quietly fought within herself.  She was too distracted with the complications of life to finish what she now considered a frivolous story.  If she could only get a little respite from the stifling world she lived in then perhaps her passion could be awakened again. 

The year was 1512 and England was beautiful.  Rolling hills, immense forests and a jutting coast line where the wind wrapped around everything in its place with the mischief of a ten year old boy.  Nights brought dense fog and a chill so cold it went straight to the bones.  The quiet hours of the dawn brought dew that stuck to the meadows and brought the magic of nymphs to the otherwise cold dark reality that plagues the world of humans. 

The constant threat of war was no stranger to these parts.  It was beating on the preverbal door and Keira knew her role in preventing one with the French would not be small.  It was not uncommon for daughters to be the alliance builders, as marriage was a way to make people believe that family was stronger than the political pressures of the world.  She also knew, marriage to any one of the potential suitors would mean nothing without producing a male heir, there by strengthening the alliance through blood.  But all Keira wanted was a quite life with her parchment in the solitude of the arms of the love she knew was out there…somewhere.  But, as her parents were quick to point out, it was improper for a young lady to write stories, she should be learning the role of painting, and reading, being able to entertain a king.  It was not looked highly upon for a woman to hold any ideas of her own.    

Yet, Keira, did not want to marry a king.  It was her simple wish to live a simple life with a God fearing man who would love her for who she was, not who he wanted her to be.  Someone like the quite knight who liked to polish his saddle and brush his horse in solitude, always in what seemed quite prayer, would be perfect for her.  But he was not one of the many suitors who continually pursued her hand.  Keira was beautiful; there was no doubt about that.  Her long dark hair would flow behind her swirling in the wind of the moors where she liked to take walks.  Her dark blue eyes and pale skin were contrasts to the mane she wore that drew even the most closed of hearts.  She had her father’s kind hearted wisdom and her mother’s beauty; the heart of every Englishman except Sir Charles. 

The future was stifling.  Keira walked to the window to get a breath of fresh air.  The cool breeze was welcome relief as it hit her face and incorporated itself into her very being.  She breathed deeply.  She could see the castle stables from her second story window.  From here they looked like peaceful churches full of penitent patrons and solemn monks.   Within those sturdy walls she knew all the knights from every district would be busily brushing horses, polishing suits of armor, or working on fighting stances just beyond the stable doors.  There would be commotion so grand it would pulsate through the walls.  The innocent bystander would walk away with an unfamiliar ringing in their ears.  Every knight prepared to fight for the ultimate prize – Keira’s hand and ultimately the kingdom. 

Keira’s eyes began to burn with tears as she realized she would never be happy with any of the knights in that stable.  Their masculine views of a woman’s role shaped by society since childhood; she stood no chance of being herself if she married one of them.  They would demand a docile creature, quite, speaking only when spoken to.  Her passion for life would be squelched with every day of the weary political decision making being consulted only for signature here or there never for what she really thought.  She was a bead at a bizarre being bid and bargained for.  She was not a human with a soul, but a piece of meat sold to the highest bidder.  Anger shot through her like a lightening bolt.  How could they expect her to resign herself to this?  The monotony itself would be death. 

Then, as if an answer to her prayer, she saw him - the solitude, penitent knight who always seemed so distant to her.  She remembered walking by the stables as a child hoping to catch his eyes, and then always asking him to saddle her horse for rides as she got older.  He never complained and always held her in high regard, but always limited their interactions to the bare minimum. 

Sir Charles, tired and sweaty from the days work, slowly walked his black stallion, Magnificent, toward the stables.  His copper hair reflected the sunlight as it stuck to his face from sweat.  As though he could hear her silent calls to him, he looked up to see her tear stained face in the window.  She quickly turned away.  She could not let him see her in this weak state.  This ugly state – red eyes and blotched skin. What she did not realize, and what Sir Charles did in that one moment of seeing her weakness, was that he loved her.  He loved her with every fiber of his being.

He, too, remembered those days when he taught her about horses.  He remembered her childish innocence and willingness to learn.  Always wanting to accomplish things on her own, but always being self aware of her weakness.  He remembered as she grew in grace and confidence when she would demand the respect of all in her presence by simply entering the room.  He knew he had always loved her, now if only he could show her how much. 

A young stable boy had the stealth of a knight running up the many corridors of the castle and ducking into the dark shadows of the towers as he secretly delivered an unexpected note.  He was a young boy Keira had only seen once helping Sir Alex (her unspoken betrothed) fix the saddle on his horse.  She felt so bad for the boy to have to work for that atrocious knight, her heart cried out for him.  Alas.  When she saw the young boys face of innocence, her heart sunk that night, praying the letter he delivered was not meant for her, was not from Sir Alex.  She considered having Lady Petunia turn the boy way.  But the kind heartedness of Lady Petunia stayed her heart and she let the boy approach. 

“My Lady, a note from Sir Charles,” the young boy breathlessly blurted.  His brow was wet with sweat, his chest heaved from his ordeal. 

Sir Charles?!  Keira could not believe her ears.  She was so certain Sir Charles did not even recognize her existence.  Surely she had heard wrong.  She held her breath as she reached for the letter.  Heart stalled, she broke the seal and began to read. 

“My Dearest and Truest Love,

‘Had he really said love?’ Surely she was imagining her wildest dream come true.

I have loved you since you were a child and took walks by the stable and now as you have grown and ride those horses by the sea with such grace.  I liken you, my darling, to a mare harnessed to one of the chariots of the King, your father.  Your cheeks are beautiful with earrings, your neck with strings of jewels.  How beautiful you are, my darling!  Oh, how beautiful.  Your eyes are doves.  Like a Lilly among thorns is my darling among the maidens and ladies of the court. 

How can I give you up to Sir Alex?  How can I hand you over to him?  My heart is changed within me, all my compassion is aroused.  But I will go to battle for your heart, my Love.  I will fight for you with the heart of a lion, as God fought for Israel. 

My dove, in the clefts of the rock, in the hiding places on the mountainside, show me your face, let me hear your voice; for your voice is sweet, and your face lovely.  Come to me, my dove, tonight by the stables.  I must see your face. 

                                                                                    In love for you always,                                                                                                                     Sir Charles”

As the mere shock of receiving such a note faded, she looked to Lady Petunia imploringly.  What was she to do?  How would she be able to get out of the castle at such a late hour?  As always, Lady Petunia had the answer.  She would throw on Lady Petunia’s cloak, keep her head down, and walk as though she were finishing her nightly duties with the Princess tonight.  For all intensive purposes, tonight she could be invisible to all. 

Keira threw the barrowed tattered cloak on and as slowly as she could she rushed to the stables.  She had grown with excitement as she journeyed to the stables, and there was a great hollowing in her heart as she realized she was alone.  Certainly she had not been mistaken.  Perhaps the last hour had just been the dream she had always imagined.  Perhaps, she was destined to be alone or with the one who could never love her for her.  After all, it was no secret Sir Alex expected her to carry on tradition, to put down the pen, and to let him govern.  She was destined to a life of deep sorrow and bitter pain.  As her heart began to harden against the mere idea of love, Keira began to cry. 

There was a noise at the stable doors.  Keira hid behind a pile of hay, her tears stuck to her face, but she dared not make a sound.   Trying to hold her heaving breath and still the increasing beat of her heart, she thought of all the terribly possible situations that may occur tonight.  No one, aside from Lady Petunia, knew where she was, and dressed as she was she would gain no respect.  Her heart beat with fear within her as the shadow moved closer to her.  Each step echoed menacingly in the empty room. 

Then she saw the familiar shadow.  Here heart could not take the suspense any longer and she ran toward him.  Sir Charles had come.  She had not been dreaming.  Her heart leapt with an inexpressible joy.  She could write a thousand love poems based on the past couple hours alone.  How could she have doubted him?  How could she have hardened her heart so quickly? 

He gathered her in his arms, having known it was her from the moment he saw her shadow.  It was as though he knew her more than she knew herself.  Every curve of her face, every graceful movement he had memorized years ago. 

“Why are you shaking?”  He looked into her eyes as though they were the only two people in the world.  “Beloved, you have been crying?  What troubles you so that I might see such a tear stained face?”

“Darling, I am shaking from cold and a touch of fear my hopes and desires would never come true.  I am crying because I thought you would never come.”

Sir Charles took off his cloak and wrapped it around her warming her more with his presence than the wool that clung to her.  She would never doubt him again.  The power of love would always win out in the end. 

“My beloved, I know what I offer is forbidden.  I know you are betrothed to Sir Alex, but might I offer to fight for your hand?  Surely, there is more than just staying a war.  I will lead the battle should one come, but I must have you as my own.  I cannot bare the thought of watching another treat you like an object instead of the graceful dove you are.”

“My lover is mine and I am his.  I slept, but my heart has been awakened by you for these many years.  May what you have said come to pass.  But, alas, it is getting late and Lady Petunia will begin to worry.”

Unwilling to let her go with just words of love, Sir Charles had to take the risk.  He caught her face in his hands and looked longing at her as the moon light shone upon it through a crack in the wall.  She was more beautiful than he deserved.  Gently taking her chin in his hand he raised her face towards his and gently, but passionately kissed her.  He kissed her as though he would never see her again, as though she was the only one in the world, a treasure to a pirate.  Her heart swelled inside her bosom as though it would explode at the gentle touch of his hand.  As his lips collided with her in tender compassion and love, her body stilled.  The moment was theirs and theirs alone.  She was so utterly quite.  It only took a moment for her to be loved a lifetime.

As their moment ceased and she was drawn back to dark reality, she slowly began her walk back to the castle.  She looked back once, unable to believe this was truly happening to her.  But as their eyes connected again in the silence of the stables with the sheep and cattle their only witness, she knew this was the beginning of a wild adventure.  

Some French History: Part 2 of the requested Article

Institutions play a large role in the development of culture and nations.  Institutions as small as the social interpretation of a wink (Geertz, 1973) to as large as the education system all influence how a society is formed and how it understands itself (Reed, 1993, Buruma, 2004).  Institutions have been studied thoroughly in social science research; however, the institutions of music education (the Conservatoire) and dissemination (the Opéra) vis-à-vis nation construction have received little attention.  The state uses these institutions to filter music in hopes of creating a unified citizenry under one banner.  Therefore, just as much as the military, school education and bureaucracy are studied to see their effects on the populace of a nation, national musical systems need to be investigated.  Because of the state’s hands on approach towards music as a tool of nation formation, France’s musical institutions serve as an excellent case study to begin understanding music’s relationship with nationalism.  This section begins this analysis. 

Keitner argues that the French Revolution was only a stepping stone on the ladder that created the French nation as it is known today (Keitner, 2007).  The Revolution and the Reign of Terror had left the people of France divided and fearful.  When the Jacobins gained control of the government, they began using institutions – the military, education, the Opéra (Fulcher, 2001), and museums – to begin the unification of the French people and restore faith in the government.    The Jacobins, continuing through the Third Republic, saw music as an essential tool to aid in the process of nation building because of its ability to cross boundaries (Larroument, 1895; Johnson, 2000).  It was this belief that began the tradition of a top-down approach to cultural creation through direct control of the Conservatoire de Paris and the indirect control of the Opéra. 

By 1792 the pre-revolutionary maitressies (local musical schools) were disassembled by the state, resulting in the complete disappearance of French public music schools.   To fill this void, and keep the Germans from gaining complete domination of the musical world, the Conservatoire was founded becoming the only place to train musicians.  The Conservatoire’s foremost purpose was to be at the disposal of the government for celebrations and events with the training of musicians considered secondary (Fulcher, 1987:48-53; J.B., 1890:393).  Because it was used at the disposal of the government, the composers were strictly regulated in what they could compose, what the pieces could sound like, and the type of music allowed to be presented to the public (Lockspaiser, 1962). 

On January 3, 1784, a national convention comprised of the constitutional and legislative deliberative assembly (which sat from September 20, 1792 - October 26, 1795) sat to consider the funding, purpose, and organization of the Conservatoire.  Sarette - a military band leader and advocate for the school – in conjunction with Chénier – a poet – drew on French national pride to address the delegates and citizens present:

“The artists of the band of the Paris National Guard, which, as a body, presents an aggregate of talent unique in Europe, come to beg of your love for all that can contribute to the glory of the Republic, the establishment of a National Institute of Music.  The public interest, tied to that of the arts, should make you feel all the utility of their request.  It is a justice due to their citizenship as much as to their humanity.  The artists, for six months past, have devoted their energies and talents to the instruction of youths taken from among the poorest citizens of each section” (emphasis added, J.B., 1890:393).

 These nationalist pleas accentuated the need to educate musicians throughout France by showing the unique talent of the French musicians compared to that of other nations.  This harkens back to Anderson’s idea of a horizontal comradeship showing that nationality is more important than class (Anderson, 2006).  This “comradeship” was seen in the slogan of the French Revolution: “Liberté, Égalité, Fraternité.”  Many of the Jacobin leaders were constrained by this slogan with which had won the revolution.  This slogan was now, at the outset of the nation, a key aspect of why and how decisions were made.  The result of these nationalist pleas was the issuing of the following decree which demonstrates the government’s hope to training a musical force:

“From April 1 next will be provided for the establishment (of the Opéra) a school supplied with able masters of music, the clavecin, declamation, the French language, &c., charged to teach music, composition, and, in general, all that can train the various talents…, as well as all that will be more amply set forth in the regulations to be made determining the choice, functions, and emoluments of the various masters, the number of pupils, and the qualifications for admission, their treatment, and, lastly, the interior management of the said school” (J.B., 1890:393).

This decreed allowed the government to organize the Conservatoire to promote the state’s interests (for as Anderson states, a nation is constructed by the state according to the interests of the sate).  The institution allowed the government the ability to cease “importing” musicians from Germany and Italy (Pasler, 2009:147).  Additionally, the state gained a monopoly on music education. The state was able to use musicians of the Conservatoire at public events to make the government look strong, even at times of weakness, while allowing a platform for the government to use music to cross all dialects and languages (a dilemma faced by all French governments until 1914) (Weber, 1976).  Moreover, through the use of competitions at festivals, the government hoped to create a French national music and create a French pride amongst its people (Pasler, 2009).

When considering the Conservatoire, musicologists investigate the teaching of music – especially solfège – and the role competitions played in the development of composers.  The Prix de Rome (the highest award granted to a pupil of the Conservatoire) is just one of the many examples of the value of music in France.  The award required a two-year stay at the Villa Medici in Rome, optionally followed by a year or two of travel elsewhere, generally to Germany and Italy, and a total of four years of state support.  The state hoped the prize would broaden the horizons of the recipients (Clevenger, 2001:11). This may seem contrary to the elitism found in French music.  However, the French were only beginning to create a sound of their own and realized some of the best operatic music to date was composed by the Germans and Italians.  Although France belittled those nations, the French did see where they could learn from them.  This is similar to math and science today in America.  Many international students come to America to study because America has (arguably) the best programs in the field, and then go back to their home nations to contribute what they learned and make their nation better. 

Musicologists show there was clear desire of the French state to form the musical world (Pasler, 2009; Fulcher, 1987, 2001; Ross, 2008, Kelly, 2008).  The state’s use of the Conservatoire through education and the Prix de Rome Competition as a way to have the composer dependent on the state have shown that music is an essential element in the understanding of the construction of a French national identity.  Additionally, regulation showed the government’s involvement in nation building because it played a limiting role in the development of music – the composer’s pieces had to conform to the desires of the French government. 

Additionally, musicologists’ investigation into the lives of composers while at the Conservatoire has shown the strict building of the hatred of the other – the Germans or Italians - and how the state perpetuated a French musical ideal by keeping other influences from succeeding within the system.  When such outside influences began to take root (such as exoticism), the state would crack down to prevent such growth from occurring.  For example, at the turn of the nineteenth century, Berlioz was denied the harmony class he needed for a conductors position at the Paris Opéra because, although virtually all considered Berlioz the best technically, he created work with exotic influences and failed to support French composers of lesser quality in his reviews (Bloom, 2000:137).  This trend continued well into the turn of the twentieth century when Claude Debussy sat at the piano to mimic the sound of buses (strictly a fun experiment in composition).  One of his peers, M. Emmanuell stated that the sounds he heard at the piano were like sounds he had never heard before:

“groups of consecutive fifths and octaves; seventh which instead of being resolved in the proper way actually led to the note above or weren’t resolved at all; ‘shameful false relations’; chords of the ninth on all degrees of scale; chords of the eleventh and thirteenth; all the notes of the diatonic scale heard at once in fantastic arrangements…All this Claude called ‘le regal de l’ouie’ (a feast for the ear).  Delibese’s class shook with amazement and fear” (Lockspaiser, 1962:30, emphasis added).

Use of such terminology as “shameful” and “proper” illuminate the importance of what was considered French music.  The mere fact that Delibese’s (the composition teacher at the time) class shook with “amazement and fear” gives evidence of the demands of the school from the government who determined which works were French.  Students knew which rules to follow and that their compositions needed to have a French texture, feel and color. 

This incident gave Debussy a reputation as an eccentric and troublesome propagandist, which led to an investigation of him for years by the state registrar (Lockspaiser, 1962:30).  It was during this investigation that Émile Réty (the appointed Secretary General of France) asked Debussy “So you imagine that dissonant chords do not have to be resolved?  What rule do you follow?” This implies that there was a correct French way to compose that the state endorsed.  “‘Mon plaisir!’ Debussy replied…And Réty turned away pale with indignation” (Lockspaiser, 1962:30, emphasis added).  The Secretary General, angry that Debussy did not follow the French rules, kept him on the registrar for further investigation and observation.  Clearly, musicologists have shown the state had a vested and important role in the creation of French music - and therefore its nation.

The state was heavily involved in competition as well.  Musicologists have shown competition, especially the Prix de Rome, was essential to the development of a French musical identity.  An example is Berlioz’s and Debussy’s experience of competing for the Prix de Rome multiple times due to their less than French compositions.  Specifically, Debussy was denied the award the first two times because his works followed the Wagnerian formula too much, and therefore, were not French enough (Clevenger, 2001:44).    Debussy finally won the Prix de Rome on his third attempt in 1884 with L’Enfant prodigue.  His composition had been significantly changed to follow that of the French Massenet style.

Comparatively, this trend of controlling musical institutions was echoed by the following governments and became significant during the Third Republic.  The Republicans of the Third Republic continued to use the Conservatoire but expanded its influence to the entertainment of the populace.  The Republic used the Opéra Nationale, especially during the years of 1830-1860, to create a national pride and national musical culture.  Through the use of heavy censorship, subsidization, and free and cheap ticket prices for the masses, the government saw the Opéra as a way to connect politically with both the events of the day and those of the turbulent past (Fulcher, 1987, 2001). 

French Grand Opera (which became synonymous with the Opéra) is commonly defined as “French opera of the Romantic period, sung throughout, generally in five acts, grandiose in conception and impressively staged” which became current terminology in the nineteenth century (Oxford Music Dictionary).  Music built up the libretto (the script), the action, and the story (Pendle, 1971:537).  Large choruses were essential to the plot and the production, harkening back to the Greek tragedies in which the chorus was symbolic of the people of Athens. 

The Opéra was used as a form of aural story telling, as the passing down of myths – especially myths of the Revolution.  Much like the German Wagner’s desire to take ancient myths and see them on stage, French composers and librettists used myths and stories and experimented with subjects from popular literature (Fulcher, 1987:22).  Such examples include Debussy’s Pelleas, Meyerbeer’s Les Hugenots (a commentary on the French Revolution and the Jacobins seen through the parallel of religious conflict between the Catholics and the Protestants) and later Bruneau’s Messidor (Lockspaier, 1962; Ross, 2008; Anglin, 2009). The opera was a tool to propel these myths into the minds of the French citizen, to build a national community, much like the Babuki theatre did in Japan (Buruma, 2003).  Myths through opera also provided a way for the state to involve the masses and construct an imagined community.  Additionally, large choruses (Pasler, 2009), libretto written for a middle class audience (as opposed to the aristocracy) (Lockspaiser, 1962; Fulcher, 1987), and the use of myths combined with the free and cheap performances and the accessibility of the opera to the people led to an increasingly wider fan base (Pasler, 2009). The Opéra was no longer strictly an aristocratic pastime, the working and middle class began attending in masses.

These institutions played significant roles in French nation construction.  Musicologists look extensively at the construction, operation, and influence these institutions had in Paris.  The Opéra and the Conservatoire were both used to educate the people on what was considered French-ness.  Moreover, musicologists have done significant amounts of research into the organization, funding, and interpretation of performances by the Opéra.  Fulcher shows that the state heavily affected the “formation of the genre’s artistic traits, the audience’s construal of their significance, and concomitantly the gradual transformation they sustained in response” (Fulcher, 1987:2).  Pasler looks extensively into the use of censorship, subsidies, and state approaches to diversifying the audiences (Pasler, 2009).  Ross, Johnson, and Rosen all show how the institution was interpreted by the citizenry. 

During the restoration, the Opéra was purely in the hands of the social elite.  The purpose of the Opéra was to seduce and impress, if not directly, by “reaching a wide audience” (Fulcher, 1987:13).  Musicologists have done extensive research into the repertoire of the Opéra and its intended message to the people.  Moreover, they have looked at the physical construction of the Opéra (the removal of boxed seats for the aristocracy and the increase in seats) as well as money spent and the income from revenue.  The overall trend has shown that the Conservatoire and the Opéra were significant to the development of a national identity because of the state’s heavy hand in creating a French musical sound through competitions, education and the control of what the populace heard at the Opéra.  

Musicologists have shown that the state gave music “an honorable sanctuary and a political existence” while establishing a tradition of music upon which the Third Republic later built up with the Opéra (Sarette, speech for the opening of the Conservatoire, 1797).  The government played a large role in what was considered French music, going so far as to label those who did not follow it as propagandists, and to investigate them thoroughly.  Additionally, because composers were often reliant on the state for their livelihood, the state held an important role in the music that was developed.  The state saw both institutions as tools to promote national character in music, create a musical tradition based on revolutionary ideals, allow the state to stay in contact with the soul of the citizen, and to teach these foundations to future generations (Pasler, 2009:149). 

Yet, the musicologist understanding of the French nation is too simplistic, and therefore, not enough to fully understand the relationship between music institutions and nationalism for a number of reasons.  One of the largest problems posed by musicologists’ research and nationalism is that musicologists generalize what happens in Paris as what happens across the French state.  The average population of France 1850-1910 was 37.6 million, with Paris comprising only two million (approximately 5% of the French population) (Historical Atlas, 2009).  Therefore, although it is essential to consider the largest city in France in the construction of the nation, especially given the centralizing nature of the French state, five percent of the population limits the investigation of the nation as a unit.  In attempt to solve this problem they look at boulevard theatres, but even these are mostly located within Paris and did not hold the same prestige the Opéra held. 

Although, throughout France, Paris was considered the cultural center, this research does not show how such institutions were viewed by the citizens beyond the border of Paris in other departments (state-like geographic divisions of France).  This problem additionally limits musicologists’ claims that myths at the Opéra were disseminated among the populace of France.  Furthermore, this approach does not consider the education many composers (including but not limited to David, Berlioz, Debussy) received outside of the Conservatoire from family members or from travels abroad and how it played a role in their musical development at the Conservatoire and, ultimately, what they produced for the state.  Nor does this approach consider the accessibility of these institutions to those citizens living far from Paris.  During the period from the Revolution until approximately the turn of the nineteenth century travel was difficult, there was little infrastructure, weather conditions often made travel dangerous (Weber, 1976) and much of France was comprised of farmers and a work force who did not have the financial means to be able to send a pupil to learn in Paris. 

Additionally, musicologists’ research of these institutions, although considering quantitative features such as receipts of the Opéra and the amount spent in a year, do not consider how much this amounts to in per capita GDP nor how this money was being spent in other departments, which could alter the estimated impact of the institutions on the populace.  Research does not show how the government spent money for the arts, or comparable institutions outside of Paris.   Money is also not the only way to investigate music’s affect.  Research needs to look more extensively into how the people of France understood the arts, which composers the average citizen knew of, which music pieces they could “sing along with” or recognize outside of Paris combined with how the average citizen interpreted these pieces.  This could be accomplished through historic investigation into specific villages, such as Weber’s inquiry begins.  Such data can begin to be found in the op-ed pieces of newspapers, reviews, and the constituency of the papers.  Additionally, data may be found in the references in literature and art to the specific pieces of the day and at festivals and celebrations.  Though the dearth of this research may be very daunting, it still demands investigation. 

Moreover, musicologists do not consider the national conventions nor the ministry offices that were in charge of budgeting for the arts and education.  The standard operating procedures (SOPs) and the traditions of these institutions that affected the outcome of such important decisions, for which the political science research lends a helping hand, needs to be considered for a full comprehension of how the state viewed music and its role in nation building.  Social scientists have shown that institutions have deeply embedded structures that are hard to see without a historical approach and understanding of the meanings of SOPs and the transitions that lead to new SOP’s (Reed, 1993; Olsen and March, 1984).  These meanings can only be established and understood within a discussion of traditions (Hobsbawm, 2003), which is not considered by musicologists. The SOP’s of both the Conservatoire and the Opéra need further investigation in order to see how the artists, composers, and the administration of both saw (or did not see) their role in nation development.  Research should look at the qualifications of appointments to the leaders of the Conservatoire and the Opéra, where they were educated, and job descriptions to begin.  Additionally, a thorough investigation into the minutes of meetings would provide a platform to begin such analysis.

This section shows how a concentrated inquiry into the history and construction of a musical institution is necessary but not sufficient in understanding nationalism because it looks at how the state uses its tools as well as the resources of the people.  Musicologists have provided the starting point from which political scientists can now begin intense investigation.  It is now essential to expand beyond Paris and into the other departments to really begin to see how institutions affected the national construction throughout France.  Moreover, an investigation into the SOP’s of the national conventions as well as the institutions themselves needs further inquiry to best see the extent of state involvement and how the institutions were perceived to affect the citizenry’s understanding of their identity.  

Courage Part 1

Olivia lay on her bed trying to finish her story.  She had had writer’s block for a month and was having little help in breaking her wall.  She was too distracted with the complications of life to finish the story she knew was in her heart.  If she could only get a little respite from the stifling world she lived in. 

The year was 1512 and England was beautiful.  Though war threatened at every corner, she knew she would be key in preventing war landing at her door step.  Her parents would use her in any way they could to create alliances with possible enemies.  But all Olivia wanted was a quite life with her pens and papers in the solitude of the arms of the love she knew was out there somewhere.  But, as her parents were quick to point out, it was improper for a young lady to write stories, she should be learning the role of painting, and reading, being able to entertain a king one day. 

Yet, for Olivia, she did not want to marry a king, she had simple wishes.  All she wanted was the quite knight who liked to polish his saddle and brush his horse in solitude, always in what seemed quite prayer.  But he was not to be seen as one of the many suitors who continually pursued her for her hand.  Olivia was beautiful, there was no doubt about that.  Her long dark hair would flow behind her swirling in the wind of the moors where she liked to take walks.  Her dark blue eyes and pale skin were contrasts to the mane she wore that drew even the most closed of hearts to her.  She had every one’s heart, except Sir Charles. 

Her thoughts were stifling her.  She had to pull away from her paper.  Olivia walked to the window to get a breath of fresh air.  The cool breeze was welcome relief as it hit her face and incorporated itself into her very being.  She breathed deeply.  She could see the castle stables from her second story window.  From here they looked like peaceful churches, but she knew what was really happening within.  All the knights from every district was in there brushing their horses, polishing their suits of armor, or working on their fighting stances just beyond the stable doors.  There would be commotion through out the stables.  Every knight had only one thought on their mind – win the tournament and receive Olivia as the ultimate prize. 

Olivia’s eyes began to burn with tears as she realized she would never be happy with any of the knights in that stable.  She realized she was just a bead at a bizarre being bid and bargained for.  She was not a human with a soul, but a piece of meat to go to the highest bidder.  Anger shot through her like a lightening bolt.  How could they expect her to resign herself to this? 

Then, as if an answer to her prayer, she saw the one being she could never seem to reach, no matter how she used her many charms.  Sir Charles, tired and sweaty from practicing his sword play, slowly walked his black stallion, Magnificent, toward the stables.  His copper hair reflected the sunlight as it stuck to his face from sweat.  She could see he was talking to someone, but could not hear the words.  Maybe he was talking to the horse, after all, she had seen other knights try to pump up their animals before tournaments before.   As though he could hear her silent calls to him, he looked up to see her tear stained face in the window.  She quickly turned away.  She could not let him see her in this weak state.  This ugly state.  He did not even like her, she could not give him more ammunition to strike at her heart.  He was the only knight who refused her advances, who refused to look her in the eye.  But he always did as she asked, always respected her, always looked out for her.  What she did not realize, and what Sir Charles did in that one moment of seeing her weakness, was that he loved her.  He loved her with every fiber of his being.

Cheers to a New Year

Every New Year brings new resolutions.  The sad part is very few of us actually fulfill those promises to ourselves. The traditional promises never seem to work out; promises like, “I will loose the weight this year,” or “I will be a better parent/spouse/daughter.”  The problem is not the intent to do better, it is the lack of reflection, goal setting and planning. 

A few weeks into January I think it is time to reflect on those resolutions we made just a few weeks ago.  A friend of mine made a resolution to not eat breads or drink tea…by lunch on Friday she was doing both.  Another friend of mine renewed a commitment to work out three to four nights a week…and thanks to that, I have a new accountability partner in one of my resolutions, being more healthy.  But there are still 50 weeks left in the year, and a lot can happen, but success only comes to those who do.

Doing is a concept I think we have slowly forgotten hear in America.  We stopped doing and now are waiting to be given.  Much like a New Year’s Resolution we expect the result without the work.  But success and, I would venture to say, happiness comes when one does something with their life.  A few years ago one of my dear friends introduced me to a new resolution that carries over every year – to try one thing new every month.  You would be surprised at how hard that can be!  Well, in that one resolution I learned two things: without reflection I cannot know what I have done and without planning I cannot hope to succeed. 

Sounds sort of like what teachers and parents and mentors have been telling us for years, right?  One must set goals with a plan.  A plan for school, a plan for a career, a plan to have kids.  No one ever mentions, that sometimes those goals and plans have to change.  No one ever mentions the fear that comes with pursuing those goals. 

What is it about New Year’s that seems to sap the joy of life?  Why is looking forward so dependent on looking back?  Why is it that sometimes it just doesn’t seem to work, making resolutions seem more like wasted prayers and broken magic than something to pursue? 

I am beginning to think the answer to all those questions is the same.  Perspective.  When one chooses to see the New Year as a fresh start they tend to be more excited about the possibilities.  A lot can happen in a year, new friends, new job, new home, loss of loved ones, loss of job; but it is the perspective that makes the memories.  Perhaps we all need a touch more of Pollyanna in our lives and a little less Economist Today.  With a change in perspective we have new light, new insight, and a new chance at the beginning of something great.

Cheers to the New Year!

   

What Happens After “Happily Ever After?”

What Happens After “Happily Ever After?”

Once upon a time there was a youth group in a small beach town in the O.C.  They were your typical youth group, came to church at least once a week, if not twice, were ready to lend a hand where necessary, and loved to worship and learn about God.  Like most youth groups, they left every week refueled and ready to live the life God planned for them.  And most would say they lived happily ever after…unless you met them on a Monday or a Thursday morning.  When they were no longer with the group, decisions got hard, sometimes they made mistakes.  Much like Gideon.

I have a friend who serves in the Navy.  He has traveled the world, seen man at his best and his worst, and has learned about different cultures in a way most people only dream about.  The last time I talked with him he commented on American girls’ Disney Princess Complex.  American girls grow up focusing on the knight in shinning armor and getting married.  Having attended and planned over 100 weddings, I can tell you first hand most girls care about the wedding more than the marriage. 

We grow up on fairy tales of true love, the battle to find it and keep it.  But the stories always end at the wedding.  No one talks about what happens to Snow White and Prince Charming after the apple?  Or what about Sleeping Beauty and Prince Philip?  The blending of two kingdoms is seldom an easy matter, much less knowing that the girl you picked spent most of her life in a forest talking to animals.  But that is our culture.  We like the happy endings; we like knowing our heroes are heroes.  We glorify them and place then on pedestals, people from Obama to Tee Bo, we don’t care what happens after the wedding or big game.  Much like what we learn in Sunday School about Gideon. 

Where we left off, Gideon was on a high having just defeated the Midianites with only 300 men.  Great Sunday School lesson – Gideon’s not the hero, the hero is God.  But the story doesn’t end…Gideon has more to teach us.  We forget that because of the next 35 verses, we call Gideon the Flawed Judge. 

So what happens?  Turn with me to Judges 8:1.

“Now the Ephramites asked Gideon, “Why have you treated us like this?  Why didn’t you call us when you went to fight Midian?”  And they criticized him sharply.”

(The Ephramites wanted in on the pillaged goods from the battle, according to most commentaries). 

But he answered them, “What have I accomplished compared to you?  Aren’t the gleanings of Ephraim’s grapes better than the full grape harvest of Abiezer?  God gave Oreb and Zeeb, the Midianite leaders, into your hands.  What was I able to do compared to you?  At this, their resentment against him subsided.”

(So bullet dodged.  He was able to appease the Ephramites and give the glory to God…sound like a Flawed Judge to you?  Nope.  Let’s continue.)

“Gideon and his 300 men, exhausted yet keeping up the pursuit, came to Jordan and crossed it.  He said to the men of Succoth, “Give my troops some bread; they are worn out, and I am still pusuing Zebah and Zalmunna, the kings of Midian.”

(Notice the change from God is pursuing to I am pursuing.)

“But the officials of Succoth said, “Do you already have the hands of Zebahg and Zalmunna in your possession?  Why should we give bread to your troops?”

(Pretty much, you guys are not as powerful as you think you are, and we are not going to help because you don’t threaten us.)

“Then Gideon replied, “Just for that, when the Lord has given Zebah and Zalmunna into my hand I will tear your flesh with desert thorns and briers.”

“From there he went to Peniel and made the same request of then, but they answered as the men of Succoth had.  So he said to the men of Peniel, “When I return in triumph, I will tear down this tower.”

(He then goes and captures the two kings.)

13 “Gideon son of Joash then returned from the battle by the Pass of Heres.  He caught a young man of Succoth and questioned him, and the young man wrote down for him the names of the seventy seven officials of Succoth, the elders of the town.  Then Gideon came and said to the men of Succoth, “Here are Zebah and Zulmanna, about whom you taunted me by saying, ‘Do you already have the hands of Zebah and Zulmanna in your possession?  Why should we give bread to your exhausted men?’”  He took the elders of the town and taught the men of Succoth a lesson by punishing them with desert thorns and briers.  He also pulled down the tower of Peniel and killed the men of the town.” 

Here we see Gideon relying on himself to capture the men, but more importantly, we see him angry and vengeful toward the peoples of Succoth and Peniel.  He tortures the people of Succoth with desert thorns and briers…ouch. Ever see a tumble weed?  You know they collect small animals?  Ever touch one?  I don’t know how you could torture with them, but I am not one who wants to find out, either. 

He tore down the tower of Peniel.  That doesn’t sound too bad.  But when you think about it, the tower probably held a symbolic meaning to the people, much like the Statue of Liberty, the Eifel Tower, the Pyramids, or the Great Wall of China all hold special places in the hearts of the their respective people.  Could you imagine if someone pulled down the Statue of Liberty because we were not gracious hosts to their ambassadors?  Or maybe Buckingham Palace is torn down because the King of Denmark was not invited to the Kate and William’s wedding. 

So, we can begin to see that there is a change in Gideon.  He is become more self reliant and less God reliant.  He is working through his own power more and less letting God work through his own power.  Let’s continue in verse 22:

“The ISrealites said to Gideon, ‘Rule over us – you, your son and your grandson – because you have saved us out of the hand of Midian.”

“But Gideon told them, “I will not rule over you, nor will my son rule over you.  The Lord will rule over you.” 

(So Gideon shows he has good theology, that he believes God to be the ultimate authority…does this sound like a flawed judge?)

Continuing, “And he said, “I do have one request, that each of you give me an earring from your share of the plunder” (It was the custom of the Ishmailites to wear gold earrings.)

“They answered, ‘We’ll be glad to give them.” So they spread out a garment, and each man threw a weight of the gold rings onto it.  The weight of the gold came to seventeen hundred shekels, not counting the ornaments, the pendants and the purple garments worn by the kings of Midian or the chains that were on their camels’ neck. 

“Gideon made the gold into an ephod, which he placed in Orphah, his town.  All Isreal prostituted themselves by worshiping it there, and it became a snare to Gideon and his family.” 

The people prostituted themselves in worship.  Wow!  Harsh words.  What were they worshiping?  What is an ephod?  I had no idea, so I looked it up. Turns out it is an apron used by the priest to reminded them God is always before them.  1700 sheckles weighs about 43 - 50 pounds.  I wear aprons when I cook, and there is no way I am putting one on that weights 50 pounds!  Some commentaries say that due to the weight, Gideon probably created a statue he clothed in an ephod.  Well, I was still a little confused as to what the point of the ephod was, so I called my mom the pastor and found out there really isn’t a modern equivalent to the ephod.  But that it was garment for the priest.  I Peter 2:5 and 9 says,

“You also are being built into a spiritual house to be a holy priesthood, offering spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ…For you are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people belonging to God, that you may declare the praises of him who called you out of darkness into his wonderful light.”

For those who believe we are all a kind of priest, the closest thing would be a WWJD bracelet or cross necklace we wear to remind ourselves we are always before God.  Sounds, at first glance, that maybe Gideon was on the right track, right?  That is until, you read that ALL Israel prostituted themselves in worship of this ephod. 

This does not sound like the happily ever after I had anticipated from chapter 7.  Gideon has become arrogant (going after the two kings because he wanted to, not because God told him to, at least according to most commentaries); he has become vengeful ( torturing the peoples of Succoth and Peniel), and worst of all he brought back the very thing he set out not to…idol worship.  Surely, he is a flawed judge. 

But this cautionary tale teaches us to constantly be aware of our weakness in sinful nature: it is when we forget we are flawed beings that we think we have the authority and power to bring judgment on people.  Much like Gideon did when he broght vengeance on Succoth and Peniel.  When we forget that we are sinful, we also open ourselves up to letting sin creep in and take control of our actions.

We learn good theology is not what makes us good Christians.  Gideon had good theology, which we see when he declines kingship, reminding the Isrealites that God will always rule.  But his actions of creating the ephod, and living like a king (he had many wives as a symbol of status, and 77 sons), lead the people back into idol worship.  His actions spoke louder than his words. 

We learn that happily ever after only happens when we return to God…we are not immune to the weakness of man.  And with that, the youth walked out of their Sunday lesson, a little smarter, a little more aware, and ready to live happily ever after…for now.  The end.