Maroon.
A dark brownish red that gets its name from chestnuts (marron, in French). It can also be found simply in the soaked bark of maritime pines.
Maroon.
A dark brownish red that gets its name from chestnuts (marron, in French). It can also be found simply in the soaked bark of maritime pines.
It’s Fairy Tale Saturday and this week we have a very special book that comes to us from our very own rq. It’s Latvian and a real departure from the fairy tales we’ve looked at so far. The pictures are very bold and some are darkly intriguing. I know you’ll enjoy it.
I don’t know Latvian so I’m including the publishing details in a photograph. I would surely botch it up if I tried to translate.
I’ve attached photos of a classic Latvian family book – a large (perhaps THE) comprehensive compilation of Latvian folktales. Some are quintessentially Latvian, some are older than others, some resemble your well-known fairy-tales, and some are quite distinct and individual.
The artist is Pāvels Šenhofs, born 1924, died in 2011.
In any case, it’s a classic, and they don’t publish like they used to!
First, you have the book cover, which is a bit melodramatic.
Then there is the fabric cover of the book itself- how I knew it, as the copy we had when I was growing up did not have the cover anymore. It’s a dark green print on rough (almost canvas) textile, also the spine.
Then there is the inside covers, which are very traditional in style.
Then some samples of the inside art: each story begins with an “illuminated” letter, drawn to look like it’s carved from wood, along with a distinctive introductory illustration, and most stories also have other line illustrations along the margins or at the end.
But the colour plates are simply fantastic. The stories are just as horrifyingly charming!
An extra picture for the antireligionists among us: the book has a whole series of stories about duping the local priest or pastor in a myriad of ways: as with German barons, if they’re not cast as the Devil himself, then they’re cast as the fool. And even the Devil can be tricked!
Lavender.
A light purple representing the color of the flower with the same name. There were no lavender flowers anywhere to be seen when I got to the letter L in mid-November, but a trip to the village’s limestone formation revealed a nice surprise. Little lavender-colored crocus flowers (Crocus serotinus) work just as well.
― Thomas Carlyle, Sartor Resartus
From Nightjar,
Khaki.
Telling apart tones of light brown is an exercise I find neither easy nor exciting, but the letter K doesn’t really afford many choices. I did learn that khaki is actually a RYB quinary color obtained by mixing equal parts of the quaternary colors sage and buff. Not that this piece of information helped me much, mind you. Hopefully some parts of this sheep’s portrait aren’t too far-off.
Jack and I had an interesting walk in the woods in the woods today. We ran into two young people from the Stone Tribe – that’s how they introduced themselves. The eldest is Drucilla the Prepared and she has lovely orange eyes and spots. The youngest is Murray the Inappropriate and he couldn’t stop giggling and the whole time his red and white spots kept jiggling as he wiggled and laughed. Drucilla says they are a long, long way from home and have been brought here by Pikes to act as sentinels.
I asked the obvious question. “How did pikes carry you here?”
Murray finally stops giggling and shouts out, “in their hands of course,” to which I reply “fish don’t have hands.”
“Of course they don’t, but what do fish have to do with it.”
“Well, you told me that you were brought here by pikes.”
“Not the fish Pikes,” says Murray. “The Palmerston Pikes, down near Punkydoodle Corner.” Then he starts to laugh again only this time he’s guffawing which makes him start to fart and that makes Jack start to giggle.
“You’d best be on your way now,” says Drucilla. “No more questions. I’ve said far too much already.”
“But, there’s so much more I want to know,” I said.
“Of course there is, but you’ll not hear it from me.”
“Please,” I pleaded.
“Off you go now. Don’t make call for aid.” Drucilla said finally.
I could hear hard steel in her voice and, since I don’t know what “aid” means to someone from the Stone Tribe, Jack and I sensibly, but reluctantly walked away. For now.
I have many questions.
From Nightjar,
Jasmine.
A pale tint of yellow representing the color of the yellowish lower part of the petals of some white jasmine flowers. I found it when a gentle morning sunray hit a dew-covered fruit of my Euonymus fortune shrub.
I swear this is a true story.
Last evening after supper Jack and I took a short stroll down to the end of our street. On our way back home we spotted a rabbit sitting in the middle of the sidewalk a few houses ahead. The rabbit was small and looked young and he was watching us approach and not moving – basically, frozen with fear and that “Oh, shit, now what do I do feeling.” We approached slowly – Jack has been taught not to chase anything alive and I was sure the bunny would finally bolt when we got closer. Nope. Jack amiably walked up to the rabbit and then bent down and took a sniff. Well, that rabbit turned his head and then rubbed his nose on Jack’s nose and the two of them just stood there for a moment looking at each other. Finally, the rabbit got up on his hind legs and gave Jack a good sniff or two and then he slowly hopped away into the shadows. Jack waited for me to tell him “let’s go” and then he ambled home slowly, deep in contemplation. I got the feeling that Jack was right pleased with the encounter and couldn’t quite believe that it had happened. Me, too.
I have a bit of bit of trivia to go with today’s book. According to Wikipedia,
Jude the Obscure, published in 1895, met with an even stronger negative response from the Victorian public because of its controversial treatment of sex, religion and marriage. Furthermore, its apparent attack on the institution of marriage caused further strain on Hardy’s already difficult marriage because Emma Hardy was concerned that Jude the Obscure would be read as autobiographical. Some booksellers sold the novel in brown paper bags, and the Bishop of Wakefield, Walsham How, is reputed to have burnt his copy.[20] In his postscript of 1912, Hardy humorously referred to this incident as part of the career of the book: “After these [hostile] verdicts from the press its next misfortune was to be burnt by a bishop – probably in his despair at not being able to burn me”.[27]
via: Books and Art
Available to read at The Internet Archive
From Nightjar,
Indigo.
A deep rich blue, inclining towards violet, and one of the seven colors of the rainbow as named by Newton. The indigo dye is one of the oldest dyes known, historically extracted from plants of the genus Indigofera, but I think I found it on the berries of a Viburnum shrub.