It's a blog! Mainly of book reviews.
A painting of the ruins of a suburb of Dresden, destroyed during the only recently ended Seven Years' War. Bellotto's Dresden home was destroyed, along with an unknown quantity of his unsold artworks, during the war, which he had spent at various cities trying to avoid the conflict and retain work.
Two views, front and rear, of Nymphenburg Palace. The viewpoints used would have been impossible but for specially constructed scaffolds, one a 15m tall tower.
Frederick the Great commissioned a New Wing for the palace from an architect with the delightful name of Georg Wenzeslaus von Knobelsdorff.
This is Berlin's Holocaust Memorial:
The King's Bed was never used, with the possible exception of Frederic I's wedding night. The King's Bathroom, on the other hand, probably was used routinely...
Moving out of the Charlottenburg district, here's some pics of Flagon and Speedy visiting the Berlin Wall at Pottsdamerplatz:
Flagon: Roar! This Wall isn't very good. I could easily fly over it!
Speedy: Snuffle! And I could scurry through these gaps!
Arbie: Well, it was built to stop humans, not Dragons or hedgehogs - and it didn't have big gaps back in the Cold War - these are just pieces that have been kept after the Wall was knocked down, so people don't forget.
Flagon: Roar! I see.
Speedy: Snuffle. Good idea to remind people!
Arbie: Those big photos over there show what this place was like when the Wall still stood.
Flagon: *Eyes bug out* Roar!
Speedy: *Eyes bug out* Snuffle!
Arbie: *Eyes bug out* Scary!
Starting The White Devil:
Webster takes Revenge Tragedy to a new level by having a character exiled for multiple homicide in the very first line!
Frederic I renamed the palace (and surrounding area) Charlottenburg in memory of his consort, who died aged only 37. He also commissioned large extensions to the palace.
Another prominent building in the district is Charlottenburg Rathaus, which I walked past on the journey to the palace from Alexanderplatz:
It never ceases to amaze me how many poems dead authors write - how do they do it? Is there a secret compound somewhere, where recently dead poets are ressurrected and forced to write new poems? Or do they just leave poems on bits of paper hidden in obscure places, not to be discovered until years after their passing? E.g. inside modern art books they owned, responding to the images in them? The latter, slightly less preposterous, idea is in fact the truth behind this slim book. The poems and reproductions of the art works they respond to are printed facing each other. It's an interesting addition to the ouvre of one of my favourite poets.
The original, comparatively modest building, Lietzenburg Palace, was completed in 1699, near the village of Lietzow, 7.5 km from the centre of Berlin, capital of Prussia. Now, it's completely surrounded by urban Berlin...
Charlotte was tutored by Leibniz and continued to hold intellectual discussions with him and others as an adult.
So, reading this is a glorious excuse to inflict more pics from last year's trip to Berlin on you all. You didn't think you'd seen them all, did you? I took >800!). Pics of the Palace and grounds seem like the obvious place to resume...
Here's Frederick III on horseback in the Great Courtyard:
And a view of the Palace from within the Courtyard:
Frederick III front view:
Flagon and Speedy came with me, had a good time:
These moon poems are Hughes at his silliest. Now don't get me wrong! SIlly and stupid are different things and when in a positive mood I loves me some silliness. It's an interesting contrast to e.g. Hawk Roosting or The Life and Songs of the Crow.
Purple prose and a listless, largely unsympathetic protagonist make a surprisingly action-packed political thriller cum space opera an unexpectedly difficult read. Additionally, I'm not sure what message I'm meant to take home, other than ideology and individuals in power do not serve the people at large. The final 30p or so are completely baffling. I here-by formally give up on Harrison SF novels.