Celebrated Crimes

When I wrote yesterday's post, I thought that there might be a possibility that I'd finish reading volume one of Alexandre Dumas' Celebrated Crimes before the year's end. I see now that that won't happen.

The last book read in 2017 will be The Age of Innocence, by Edith Wharton.

Volume one of Celebrated Crimes contains two essays - The Borgias and The Cenci. It was the story of Beatrice Cenci which brought me to this collection. The Borgias contains so much historical information that I'm not certain that putting that essay into a work on celebrated crimes is entirely appropriate. However, because the tale of the Borgia family takes place during the First Italian War, it fits in perfectly with my recent exploration of the Spanish Conquistadors - quite a few of the soldiers whom fought alongside Cortés had also fought in the Italian Wars.

The main focus of The Borgias revolves around Pope Alexander VI. His story does not speak well for the Catholic Church during the Renaissance. Actually, his story does not speak well for humanity.

2017 Winding Down

2017 is almost at an end and I will be posting my list of books read this year in a few days. The last three books read were written by Edith Wharton; a collection of short stories - The Hermit and The Wild Woman - and two novels - The House of Mirth and The Age of Innocence. I've enjoyed Wharton's work, but I doubt that she will surpass Elizabeth von Arnim as my favorite.

Although there are two days left in this year, it doesn't appear likely that I will finish the book I am reading currently, Celebrated Crimes by Alexandre Dumas (pere). There are eight volumes in the complete work, but it's possible that I may finish volume one before year's end.

I became interested in Dumas' Celebrated Crimes when I learned of the story of Beatrice Cenci. Her story is included in volume one of Dumas' book.

I've downloaded 16 ebooks from Project Gutenberg to start off 2018. These sixteen, plus the Dumas' collection should keep me occupied for quite some time.

Beetle Number 40.

Every Wednesday morning, I meet with a small group of fellow expatriate, old fart Americans for breakfast at a local eatery in Dumaguete. We have habitually met at a different place every week, but we may have settled on the Gabby's Bistro on Rizal Boulevard as the regular go-to location. I don't seem to be as particular in the location as some of the others. I'm more likely to have just coffee and ice water sans breakfast and most of the places we've been to can manage coffee.

The guys are likeable enough, but from the conversations, I seem to be the only one in the group that prefers Philippines to the U.S..

This morning, after our bullshit session had ended, I headed home, taking a different route down Aldecoa Drive. Just before reaching Harolds Mansion (Hostel) on the corner of Aldecoa and Hibbard ave., I spotted a Volkswagen Beetle parked behind a fence. Needless to say, I pulled over for photos.

According to my count, this makes #40.

Beatrice Cenci

At nearly the half-way point of Edith Wharton's novel, The House of Mirth, Wharton's makes mention of a "bronze box with a miniature of Beatrice Cenci in the lid".

"After luncheon, when Grace Stepney's prying eyes had been removed, Lily asked for a word with her aunt. The two ladies went upstairs to the sitting-room, where Mrs. Peniston seated herself in her black satin arm-chair tufted with yellow buttons, beside a bead-work table bearing a bronze box with a miniature of Beatrice Cenci in the lid. Lily felt for these objects the same distaste which the prisoner may entertain for the fittings of the court-room. It was here that her aunt received her rare confidences, and the pink-eyed smirk of the turbaned Beatrice was associated in her mind with the gradual fading of the smile from Mrs. Peniston's lips. That lady's dread of a scene gave her an inexorableness which the greatest strength of character could not have produced, since it was independent of all considerations of right or wrong; and knowing this, Lily seldom ventured to assail it. She had never felt less like making the attempt than on the present occasion; but she had sought in vain for any other means of escape from an intolerable situation."

Having never heard of Beatrice Cenci, I immediately searched the name in order to get a sense of why Wharton might make use of this bronze box in her description of Lily's conversation with her aunt.

Wikipedia describes Cenci this way.

"Beatrice Cenci (6 February 1577 – 11 September 1599) was a young Roman noblewoman who murdered her father, Count Francesco Cenci. The subsequent, lurid murder trial in Rome gave rise to an enduring legend about her. She was condemned and beheaded for the crime in 1599."

And according to historical accounts, Francesco Cenci abused his first wife Ersilia Santa Croce and his sons and raped Beatrice multiple times. This abuse eventually led to Beatrice, her siblings, and their stepmother bludgeoning Francesco to death with a hammer and throwing his body off a balcony to make it look like an accident.

The four members of the Cenci family were arrested, tried and convicted of the murder and sentenced to death.

Down through the centuries, Beatrice Cenci's tragic story has had an influence on literature and the arts. Many of the works are either not in English, or are unavailable at Project Gutenberg. However, I was able to download Les Cenci, a short story by Stendhal and The Cenci, an essay by Alexandre Dumas in Volume 1 of Celebrated Crimes.

I haven't yet decided if I'll read those before or after I read Wharton's novel, The Age of Innocence.

Edith Wharton

Having grown tired of reading books concerning the Spanish Conquistadors, I went to a folder in my pc where I stash away ebooks downloaded from project gutenberg which, at the time they were downloaded, I had every intention of reading. Sometimes a particular ebook will be read - sometimes not. Looking through the downloaded ebooks, I came across one by Edith Wharton entitled The Hermit and the Wild Woman and Other Stories.

I had no recollection of when I originally downloaded this ebook, (or why) but now, the title intrigued me, so I sent the mobi to my Kindle.

After reading the first two short stories, I knew I'd want to read more by Wharton. Going back to the computer file, I discovered that I had also downloaded two other novels by Wharton, The Age of Innocence and The House of Mirth. As it turns out, these ebooks have sat unread in my pc since December, 2014. I sent these two to my Kindle as well.

If I enjoy these novels as well as the first short stories I've read, I'll be downloading more by Edith Wharton. Fortunately, project gutenberg has lots for me to choose from. I may have found a writer who I enjoy reading as much as I did Elizabeth von Arnim.