when lord huron said "now the darkness got a hold on me / i have seen what the darkness does / say goodbye to who i was" and "and when i die i want her lying by my side / in my grave / id give it all to love that girl, oh" and "youve been gone for a long long time / youve been in the wind, youve been in my mind / you are the purest soul ive ever known in my life" and "you know where you can find me again / ill be waiting here till the stars fall out of the sky / when you left i was far too young / to know youre worth more than the moon and the sun / you are still alive when i look to the sky at night / i would wait for a thousand years / i would sit right here by the lake, my dear / you just let me know when youre coming home / and ill wait for you" and "i have been trying to find her, wanna give what ive got / she lit a fire and now, shes in my every thought" and "ill search the world until theres no place left to go / and if she leaves it, i will follow, yeah, i will follow" and "i been running a long, long time / trying to flee that life / but i cant seem to leave it behind" and "oh, i sing all day and i love you through the night" and "i am ready to follow you / even though i dont know where" and "cause i know i dont wanna stay here forever / its time to be movin on" and "i had all and then most of you / some and now none of you / take me back to the night we met" i felt it in my soul
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JOMP BPC - 16th February - Naked Hardcovers
This was tricky because I have almost no hardcover novels and the non-fiction hardbacks I own are very plain once you take their dust jackets off. But I was given La Belle Sauvage as a birthday present a couple of years ago and it has an interesting cover - a quote from the book down the spine and some sparkling golden dust - so here we are.
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hey siri how do i get la belle fleur sauvage injected into my veins
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He has an ancient English/French phrase dictionary that he reads to switch from Micheal ‘speaks-lovely-French’ sheen to Aziraphale ‘speaks the devils French’ Aziraphale
One of his biggest slays this season was butchering the French so daintily.
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La Belle fleur sauvage
A legendary and immortal force of nature.
Much like @artofdeductionbysholmes
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She lives to see the sun and feel the wind and drink the rain
- Lord Huron, "La Belle Fleur Sauvage"
[click images for better quality! if you use any, please give credit <3]
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La Belle Fleur Sauvage (1989)
"I'll live yet to see him
Regret the dark hour
When he won, then neglected,
The frail wildwood flower"
- "Wildwood Flower," American folk song written by Maud Irving, best known as performed by Mother Maybelle Carter.
[Epigraph from La Belle Fleur Sauvage]
The fifth Strange Trails story is one of George Ranger Jonhson's most plain-cut romance novels. As he mentioned after the publication of Lullaby, he’d been wanting to write more “of tender things.”The story this time around comes to the patrons of George's Place from Remy Fusil, the Cajun Cowboy - a character who appears fairly little in the whole rest of GRJ's oeuvre, unless you believe certain theories of second identities (you'd be hard-pressed to find a character who doesn't have those!)
In retrospect, despite his seat in the hallowed pantheon of Strange Trails narrators, alongside such heavy-hitters as Frankie Lou and Buck Vernon, Fusil was a means to an end - that end being the introduction of Lee Green, who would play a major role in the whole rest of Johnson's works, develop from the sweet young flower of the Michigan woods she's portrayed as here, to, in the end of ends, that half-real eye-of-the-hurricane phantom haunting moonlit Mt. Monroe.
But we're getting two series ahead of ourselves. For now, in this book, GRJ deftly weaves together Remy and Lee's hesitant and, perhaps, a touch unreliably narrated romance, with the timeless legend of an unobtainable alpine flower - a legend that Remy swears is Cajun, but in other books we're told it might be Basque, or American folk. In other words, it's a story that comes from everywhere, and everyone. Maybe that's why this old tale's themes of obsessive pursuit ring through almost every page that GRJ ever set his pen to. Behind the kisses in the moonlight, there are always mountains unclimbable, withering flowers picked for ephemeral beauty once held, fools for love lying in the drifting snow, in the wind, lost in time and space, who'd give it all to pluck that fleur.
Oh yes, and we end with another cliffhanger. As Remy leans back in George's Place, having finished his tale of romance, he lights up a cigarette and a Bob Dylan tune comes on the jukebox. No one, he says, could ever challenge that his love was the purest. And then, to a galloping 4/4 beat, he hears footsteps approaching.
Keep following this blog for more insight into Johnson's work through the years.
May you live until you die!
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