Assign'd am I to be the English scourge.
This night the siege assuredly I'll raise:
Expect Saint Martin's summer, halcyon days,
Since I have entered into these wars.
This is a speech by Joan La Pucelle in Shakespeare's Henry VI.
Hmm, what does this have to do with my love life? It does feel like there is, strangely, some warring in love. The work that it takes to get to halcyon days. And scourge to the English is sometime like, -antidote to victorian mores, to properness. And I do bring some of that to my relationship.
To add to this I'm currently reading Keith Richards' LIFE. And talk about a scourge to the English. But also one that brought music and dance and revelry.
It was like a war he fought with the English.
Seen through that lens the dynamic is pretty revealing. Keef is pretty despicable at times. And yet I'm still glad for the dirty dangerous joy he brings to the table.
Which all makes me feel better about my own down and dirty contribution to my own family.
Thanks silly FB game. (See what I did there?)
Addendum, days later. Listening to early stones albums and thinking about the crazy rabid, fierce fans, the young girls, who Richards says in his memoir are the scariest force he's ever encountered.
Wondering what causes that. But listening to the music I begin to understand. It is a release of the demons from the strictures of the Victorian era. It was pure Dionisian voo doo of music, released through African records into young brave punks and then unbottled into the world through pop music. finally understood as absolutely necessary.
How much better is the African or south American values, where the music is introduced early and control is learned by the dancer.