Posts tagged farewell my queen
a marie antoinette blog
I thought this was interesting: a short post over at Le costume historique about the (in)accuracy of the fashion and hairstyles in Farewell, My Queen with some photoshopped images of how they might have appeared more accurate.
—Farewell, My Queen (2012)
Words of wisdom from Farewell, My Queen (2012)
We lodgers—logeants, as those who were privileged to live at the chateau used to be called—were experiencing the negative side of our cruel isolation. How nice, how wonderful, to live apart like this, in sublime unawareness. How frightening, how terrifying, to know nothing, or almost nothing, when the rest of the country was joining in league against us. …
Maybe it was just me; maybe I had gauged the value of my time so completely in terms of my reading sessions with the Queen that I had completely drifted away from reality. Perhaps I had carried the sheltering effect of “these parts” further than the others had, but I had the feeling that everyone around me, each person staggering to and fro in his separate darkness, was in the same plight as I.
—Farewell, My Queen by Chantal Thomas
—Farewell, My Queen (2012)
(Source: throwherinthewater)
Panic ignores pauses. She does not consider rank, nor does she distinguish between a casual au revoir and a final adieu. For her there are only solutions or obstacles.
—Farewell, My Queen by Chantal Thomas
(Source: vivelareine)
… the silence hanging over Versailles was so unaccustomed that it claimed my attention. The silence intrigued me. It amounted to an enigma. Let me be clear about something that most people would probably have trouble imagining today: noise was inseparable from Versailles. The sound of Versailles remains a part of me even now. It is a single block compounded of myriad individual sounds: ritual, military, religious, the changing of the guard and the ringing of the bells, a continuous background of barking, neighing, coach wheels turning, orders being shouted, raised voices at day’s end, music being played on all sides in the night, and the endless to-and-fro of servant’s footsteps on the wooden floors.
All this surrounded by the din, the disorder, the dust of the the omnipresent construction projects, never finished and always starting up again, the permanent “work in progress” that went on night and day … The noise comes back to me, occasionally, perhaps deafening to the outsider, but deep, violence, mysteriously nourishing, vitally necessary to the person living inside it.
—Farewell, My Queen by Chantal Thomas
(Source: vivelareine)
