Every November of my boyhood, we put on red poppies and attended highly patriotic services in remembrance of those who had 'given' their lives. But on what assurance did we know that these gifts had really been made? Only the survivors—the living—could attest to it. In order to know that a person had truly laid down his life for his friends, or comrades, one would have to hear it from his own lips, or at least have heard it promised in advance. And that presented another difficulty. Many brave and now dead soldiers had nonetheless been conscripts. The known martyrs—those who actually, voluntarily sought death and rejoiced in the fact—had been the kamikaze pilots, immolating themselves to propitiate a 'divine' emperor who looked (as Orwell once phrased it) like a monkey on a stick. Their Christian predecessors had endured torture and death (as well as inflicted it) in order to set up a theocracy. Their modern equivalents would be the suicide murderers, who mostly have the same aim in mind. About people who set out to lose their lives, then, there seems to hang an air of fanaticism: a gigantic sense of self-importance unattractively fused with a masochistic tendency to self-abnegation. Not wholesome.
The better and more realistic test would therefore seem to be: In what cause, or on what principle, would you risk your life?
Tags: friends fanaticism christianity patriotism war death religion childhood self-importance suicide sacrifice principles torture soldiers martyrdom theocracy orwell martyrs masochism ugliness november boyhood comrades self-abnegation causes christian-martyrs conscription kamikaze memorials poppies suicide-attack
People wonder why so many writers come to live in Paris. I’ve been living ten years in Paris and the answer seems simple to me: because it’s the best place to pick ideas. Just like Italy, Spain.. or Iran are the best places to pick saffron. If you want to pick opium poppies you go to Burma or South-East Asia. And if you want to pick novel ideas, you go to Paris.
Roman PayneTags: writing inspiration creativity travel ideas paris france expatriate expats asia writer-s-block burma opium expatriot opiate saffron poppies opiates parisians
Reason I know, is only a drug, and, as such, its effects are never permanent. But, like the juice of the poppy, it often gives a temporary relief.
Hope MirrleesTags: reason drugs poppies opiates endymion-leer temporary-relief
In general I strive for greatness and rational achievement, but I admit to you I’ve a terrible fondness for women, a tendency towards drunkenness, and a weakness for the fumes of the poppy—opium and other miserable beauties.
Roman PayneTags: greatness women sex drugs vice heroin opium roman-payne poppies the-wanderess drunkeness
Mrs Darley, I noticed, always had her corn dolly amidst an arrangement of cornflowers and poppies (albeit they were artificial!). The corn, I was to later understand, represented the God, the red poppies his sacrificial blood and the blue cornflowers his death and this is something I still adhere to today.
Carole CarltonTags: pagans paganism poppies samhain beltane carole-carlton mrs-darley pagan-whispers moon-magic mrs-darley-s-pagan-whispers mrs-darley-series-of-books pagan-book pagan-festivals imbolc irish-celts lughnasadh corn-dolls corn-doll corn-dolly cornflower
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