Depths of ire! Uncontrollable debating! Troublesome Pettifogging! This Pestilential Scourge, Media, gains its own article.

Journalism and media are two very different things. You think? When it comes between an instance like celebrity culture and journalists on the Tibetan-Chinese border it is undoubted. The line can be bothersomely blurred... This writer thinks perchance the journalists discover the information, and the media belches it out.

The Reader may note that was a fairly extraordinary sentence, and definitely exhibits the tone of the forthcoming piece. In other words, this'll be a fairly vituperative article. Bear with me, my figurative blogger's pen  is rusty from disuse. Enjoy.

Shakespeare is theater. Previously lowbrow, crude, and informal theater to be sure, but now it has morphed into an art form: which at least is better than Ms. Jennifer Aniston, and the full cadre of celebrities. Media, while it endeavors to imitate such, is not an art.
Take for example the recent happenings in Eurasia. It has been transgr    essing for upwards of a month-and-two-weeks, with every small happenstance magnified and declaimed throughout. A lowly and uninformed personage I may be, but however nefarious President Putin is or is not (come on, he at least is a level II megalomaniac) a crisis need not crucially be averted when a news article on the aforementioned is side-by-side with one on Taylor Swift's attire. I entirely agree that it is somewhat discordant, yet honestly, I see little importance in superficial publicizing.

...

Quite honestly, originality is sorely lacking. Maybe discuss the situation of the fight against malaria in third-world countries? Poor pay in Chinese factories? Political suppression in Myanmar?
Just...frigging...shut up...about...Taylor Swift's clothes.
Please.

I come to the meat of the matter, and to my opinionated approximation of things media sorely exaggerates in its pertinent stages, one article deriving from another, expounding on falliance and thriving on drama; a crisis following another in quick and short-lived succession.

Not to say journalism in and of itself is a vice. In fact it's a virtue. Now if only the popular distribution of disclosures were less aggrandized... At least we have right to report on most, I admit.
But perhaps we exaggerate an increment too much. I'll silence on the news commentary, thanks.

Appreciation for reading my digression on media,

-Anacostia.

Desisting from consistent opinionation, I offer you a review: SHADOWFELL by Juliet Marillier.

To postpone the aforewritten article in this "blog" was no easy task, but in order to illuminate my thoughts on the exemplary work, of whose name carries both delineation of a sunless area and protuberances of earth particularly found in mid-England, Missouri, central China, Mongolia, and elsewise...Oh, come on, codswallop! I'll drop the turgidity, if only to respect my feelings on this book yesterday.
Feelings on book while reading: Asdfghjkl, this book is amazeballs to the sky, but oh my gersh Neryn, you are so naïve!
Feelings on book while a little more than half-way through: Aii! *kindly picture your potential mental image of me, quite honored to have a potential mental image incidentally, holding the book an arm's-length away with a stricken expression*
Feelings on book in the eponymous Shadowfell: *curled up with eyes moving like lightning*.
Feelings on book... At the denouément (Or whatever counts for it in this book): *hugs book to chest*.

Juliet Marillier is an author who wrote many books, among them which I have read Wildwood Dancing, and its premier companion Cybele's Secret. Thence I have gleaned her writing style to be heavy on character development, possibly more emotionally raw than other authors (many of whom I might name but I did say: "Rants of Opinionation" not "Calumny and vituperation"*), great at scenic detail, and fantastical situations abounding.
Three guesses.
1. All appear.

2. All appear with striking brilliance.

3. All appear with brilliance that yesterday demonstrated my ability to fangirl at length, and become overly wrapped up in a work of fiction†.

Ahem. All of the above. Rather then embark on a lengthy panegyric, why don't I explain what makes this book so utterly admirable?

Fifteen years before the book is set, a tyrant named Keldec takes power and bans all magic: both expunging particular talent in arts and crafts for fear of it being "canny" (for that is magic's name in this), and regularly destroying villages and settlements presumably to put the fear of the king in the citizens.N.B.  A girl born in the year of King Keldec's coup, and running from the wrath of his "Enforcers" is a girl named Neryn (surname unspoken-of). Fleeing a village shortly before it is burned (See, she has all the bad luck. Her grandmother's mind was destroyed by Keldec's "mind-menders", her brother was killed in the destruction of their village, her mother died when she was four, and her father dies in the village's immolation.) with the help of an individual called Flint (Don't blame me, I didn't name those characters.) Naturally, she does not trust aforementioned individual and sets out solo to find Shadowfell, the legendary abode of those resistant to the king's rule. 
If you're any connoisseur of the Y/A genre it should be a bit predictable as to the events of the book. If you're not, you aren't missing much, but the fun of guessing.

To be frank, I originally thought very little of this series. In the wake of our family watching Peter Jackson's The Lord of the Rings cinematic adaptations I thought this filled with terrible plagiarisms, and set it down after reading... five pages. Since then I have repeatedly critiqued it (with, mind you, little idea of its actual quality) but when I sighted it at the library, with the sequel I had to check it out again.
And, I loved it. Due to a variety of rare factors in Young Adult fiction known as good writing, fine characterization (and character-development, furthermore. This doesn't just go into flawed characters... flawed characters complete with backstory to demonstrate both their flaws and their merits still without weighing down the storyline, current actions demonstrating said flaws, and merits, as well as plenty of conflict just so those poor characters don't get a break. Maybe in the sequel☺?As a nice contrast I suspect these parenthetical statements are indubitably weighing down the review.)
Ah yes: Fine characterization, scenes to variously chill, hearten, or thrill the reader without burdening them with overly turgid phrasing, a - granted it is a cliché - rather, hm, trite storyline, and even at the end of it you want more to the story. Lucky Raven Flight is the present book of honor on my shelf, mm?

Then again, I had my prejudices against the characters, particularly Neryn. Concurred that she was a careful, defensive, weary, individual. Nevertheless, her trust of Flint grew rather too quickly. *nods*. Very quickly. And of course as anyone who has read to the middle of the novel understands, that trust is shattered like..... like.....a thousand tiny similes dashed upon a mirror, creating both a heck of a mess, a terrible comparison, and the cleaner wondering how a literary device can break a mirror♪.

Really, if they're all as terrible as that one I cannot admit to surprise.      

Let's face it: It's an astounding book and you had better go out to your nearest bookstore to buy it. Or, rather not. In fact it is entirely your own choice to read it-let alone like it! Although I would recommend Cybele's Secret, and Wildwood Dancing, her two other Y/As. In very fact, my thanks for reading this review.

                                                          

Sincerely,

Anacostia Mirabow-Marignac.

















*As many of them I probably unfairly dislike. Probably. Moreover, calumny is a fantastic word (meaning unfair or unjust criticism),  which is potentially the root of my use.

†Hitherto unseen since my reading of Emily Brontë's Wuthering Heights. The review is far too embarrassing to post on this blog, but I shall disclose my reading of it involved shrieking about the annoying characters, then bawling five minutes later. Uncontrollably. With great emotion.

♪If you're wondering about aforesaid event, you might search in the vicinity of the synopsis. I know. It's dreadfully helpful.

N.B. Of course, he could not have considered making people hate the magic rather than him. To cite Machiavelli, a monarch should be loved in peacetime, and feared in strife, but never, never to the point of hatred... Unlike  Keldec. Oh, very much unlike Keldec.

Several witticisms, one antique scribbler, an eternally superannuated vocabulary, and the complete works, of Anacostia Mirabow-Marignac's writing advice.

Doubtlessly my trademark lyricism and unending insight must cast it into question whether, indeed, the author of this so-called "blog" happens to be an author. I am. Being magnanimous as all-get-out, you may expect me to share sagacious pearls of wisdom, and perhaps a little less hyperbole than has hitherto been exhibited. How little you know me, Dear Reader, if you expect the latter to occur.

Fortunately, my munificence has no bounds. Or rather, I might counter the stemming tide of tips which I strongly disagree with, rather than simply whinging ineffectually.
(This is what is termed: "Stream of consciousness" or in other words endless blather. The egomania is merely a side-effect of typing quite rapidly.)
Before I embark on my as-promised tips for writing, I've decided to list a sample of my writing projects as follows.  Some have been swirling in the stormy depths of my head for some time (think seven years), some are nascent arrivals to my portfolio of stories.

•The Queen of Tyreusa. The eldest of my projects, it dates from seven years ago when, admittedly, I imagined scenes from it while trying to go to sleep. I neglected to think up any motivation, character building, description, or successive plots... In this installment the Queen of Tyreusa, Corinna, is the sovereign of the nation Tyreusa, having been in that capacity for eight years, and much has been placed on her adolescent shoulders. Including, but not limited to, raiders in the north, declarations of war from neighboring states, and nefarious advisers. When a plan from one state goes awry, and peace talks are called before it is too late, she recognizes one in the cadre of politicians sent. Who happens to be the king of that country, Hytermaire. Also, her former, vanished friend.

 •Wutherwell story. Set in, fine, I confess, what used to be my concept of A Tale of Two Cities (a parallel world with carriage overpasses, and flying somethings. No stonings! One city could be located in the parallel world, the other could be on Earth. Perfectly logical. Needless to say, I dissuaded myself of that notion) this stars a girl named Rhaedlwyn Dartmoor: nineteen years old, cloistered and introverted in a cathedral town called...yes...yes...Wutherwell!  Thereafter, her best friend deserts from the air force (named the Air Legions) and with a fair dose of emotional altercation, she ends up in the Air Legions herself. Sequel is set on the Orient Express, several months afterward. Originally a National Novel Writing Month (i.e. NaNoWriMo)  story.

•Robin Hood re-telling. A few scattered portions and an unclear plot are all there is of this story characterized by elements perhaps borrowed from "Robin of Sherwood" and cringe-inducingly similar to the BBC Robin Hood of 2010. Sans all magic and magical elements, mind. Note for the latter, that was entirely incidental, as my knowledge of that originates in pop culture references from the Internet and BBC previews.

•Cyberpunk. Inspired when I was perusing a tome of theoretical physics (I believe it was Physics of the Impossible, by Michio Kaku if you must know) and noted they explained if light was refracted via solar panels consistently over the Martian atmosphere, it would warm, melt the polar caps, and thus make it habitable in a while. Well, this is set after that while, in the dusty plains of Mars in a town called New Locktown. Trust me, all I'm missing is a plot for little miss Leigh Aubrey.


Synopsis, The Queen of Tyreusa, and names; everything relating to stories named is copyright of Anacostia Mirabow-Marignac. For reproduction or copy rights, contact her on Google+. I might not bite your head off.

Ah, yes. Notes, tips, and advice:

►Do nothing to your primary or auxiliary characters without the audience liking them first. And you, too, you're the book's primary audience.

►Do not enact what the audience wants, or what would perfect the character's lives, do instead what adds drama. Drama--DRAMA‼

►Basically that means write for yourself, not for an audience. Do add what makes drama, though.

►Don't be afraid of saccharine writing. If it is too emesis-inductive then you can change it, but often the best drama results from grandness, elegance, or sweetness.

►Stress not about characters. Write them, and characterization will come at last.      

►Use touching moments with care.      

►If writing a romantic or sentimental scene or work, make sure the characters involved are not defined solely by the romance. They shouldn't be handsome, kind, gallant, lovable, and complex just in time for the protagonist to meet them...they shouldn't be declaring their love and undying affection every three pages...they shouldn't always interact romantically, it needs to be subtle too, they need to be characters as well as love-interests.

►"Suddenly" is a delicate term. Abrupt may fit into some instances..."as abruptly they hit someone" but the "suddenly" adverb others, "suddenly their feet flew out from under them." Consider whether the abruptness or suddenness is apparent from the phrasing. The reader is viewing it as a sudden action, not always does it need to be named.

►You've gotta love writing to write. That is all.

Hopefully, Reader, the gems of wisdom gained are sufficient and prove emolument for the perusing of this article. Really, thanks for reading; thanks for writing. I hope that helps, and remember, the manner which you write and standard by which you write are your decisions‼

The Essence of Writing.

Yes, all writers do hope the elves will come in the night and finish their stories, all do just write, and they all paint their voices. Neil Gaiman, and Voltaire for ze quotes. The pen is also mightier than the sword; always, and you must write the story that wants to be written (Madeleine L'Engle). Castles in the air never exist in real life, but once you pick up the quill, the pen, the pencil...daydreamings are the limit.

-Anacostia.

You heard me say (or rather didn't) there were to be reviews? Official, Stately, and Grandly Designated Review of Victor Hugo's Epic "Les Misérables"

A short PREFACE:

It was not arduous. Trekking through twelve-hundred some pages is hardly a carefree task, and indeed I became burnt-out on it about one-quarter of the way through. Oh, yes. It was "Cosette" so precisely so.

This is my original, unchanged, and slightly refurbished review... It contains my notes, ruminations, and many, many spoilers. When you concentrate on the large capital letters, skip under the next capital letters, gentle Reader...Otherwise I am not liable for any spoilers sustained, my deep apologies.

It is divided into parts...i.e., "THE EDITION" "TEH WRITING". It is five pages, took one week. The beginning lines of it are my notes, from, well, page 729 onwards. Good luck.

*alarum* *glorious banners* *palanquin bearing scroll enters*

THE NOT-SO-OFFICIAL REVIEW OF HUGO'S "LES MISÉRABLES." (Also known as: Victor Hugo's "Read It And Weep."

Chapter IV| Epic of Saint Denis.

I wonder if this portion was written before or after V. H.'s opinion of Napolean III declined.

p. 729. A hammer nailing a metaphorical coffin of Poland is arguably ill-omened no matter what, eh?

p. 730. ...And here there will presumably be a coffeehouse proprieted by one Monsieur Defarge and his wife. Darn, wrong revolution.

p.736. N.B. Research "Ca ira".

Book II of Epic of Saint Denis. "Éponine."|

p. 746. Marius and Marianne Dashwood should form a club. Would like to elaborate, due to long-windedness, but I figure it's pithy enough left standing and not drenched in loquacity... back to Les Miz.

p. 746. Marius really shouldn't be knocked off.

p. 747. You need a telephone book, Marius.

p. 748. Law affiliates in books about the French Revolution duel: Sydney Carton vs. Marius. Funny how  "lawyer" was a lowly profession then, unlike now!

p. 744. If a love triangle happens to present itself!!!!

p. 755. Inter-classic shipping: Marius Pontmorency and Marianne Dashwood.

p. 757. Please tell me Éponine doesn't die ☺.

p. 780. Cosette: "Father, why do you eat miserable bread like that?"
          Jean Valjean: "Because Reasons, my daughter."
          Cosette: "...Well if you eat it, I shall eat it."
Blackmail! Da dum daa!

p. 795. Wouldn't it be nice if you could distinguish between Gavroche, Enjolras, and other-Enjolras? For the first and last it's easy, I concede the point.

p.796. Correct me if I'm wrong, but Victor Hugo, did you just say all black-skinned people are slaves?

p. 800. So, basically, Marius follows the tenet of: "I don't want to cheer up, it's nicer to be miserable?"

p.806. Narm... "Thou art" really Marius?

p. 808. If Cosette still doesn't realize this is Marius writing that epistle...!!!!!

p. 809. I think you should play video games, Marius, it's a little more productive than spooning.

p. 810. ...

p. 813. Cosette that was the most sensible reaction.

p. 814. *angels sing on high*

p. 822. Now finally I can figure out who Gavroche is!

Review to come.

Out of many one of the most striking things about this  work of literature is the grasp of atrocious wars. It doubtlessly magnifies the greatness of human nature, but it makes it a jolly good read in the process.

Summaries and millions of them have hitherto been written so it's redundant to write another, beside the fact they normally are used to fill up space...Yes, you know I'm right.

The writing is immediately tiresome to any reader, its level of irksomeness depending on the translation. It might take a while to begin properly; but once it does I promise it will not be regretted to read it. Despite their limited appearances; I don't think Monsieur Mabeuf and Javert (The latter is definitely far more prominent in the movie though. I know that with absolute certainty without having watched it.) can be denominated as plot devices. Almost with Javert... but not quite.

How can I begin to explain the ineffable quality of this book? Adjectives may not describe it all. Striking, frightening, amazing, incredible, unbelievable, realistic, romantical, saccharine, poignant, charismatic. And that is just the beginning. Although as aforementioned it is aggrandized human nature is so heartrendingly rendered: Jean Valjean, Marius, Enjolras, Éponine I can only minimally complain.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Well I daresay it sounds I am more enamored with this review than the book it is reviewing! So I shall amend that. (Or attempt to, I think the review's pretty great).

I will make one thing abundantly clear: Cosette was a love-hate character. At first she's selfless and cheerful than she's spoilt and frivolous and back again.

Cosette: "Father, why do you eat miserable bread like that?"

          Jean Valjean: "Because, my daughter."

          Cosette: "...Well if you eat it, I shall eat it."

To effectively SPOILER: SPOILER: SPOILER being responsible to the broken hearts of four different people. Admitted that is not her fault. SPOILER-END: SPOILER-END: SPOILER:END. One thing must be made abundantly clear and that yes, I am not a proponent of everyone being sad in the entire book... But her silliness and saccharinity was nearly about to drive me berserk.

For our erstwhile hero, Jean Valjean I shall dedicate the next few paragraphs.

*clears throat*

Right. One: He steals two loaves of bread. Not one. Tho' "a loaf of bread" sounds better. Two: He also steals forty sous which is approximately three pennies in modern American currency. Three: You see, Javert is rather indifferent to chasing after him for three-quarters of the book. Four: He was in jail for nineteen years for trying to escape four times.

Now that we've eradicated odious misconceptions about this. Ahem.

Well, he needed better self-esteem that's for sure. At first that was what comes to mind.

He is an immensely heroic character,  who has touching and heartrending moments. The scene in the village he becomes mayor where the carriage is submersed in mud was astonishing; for a good deal of the plot it was my favorite! How touching it was. The quality of his character, if I may be so bold, is wordless.

Now... For Marius Pontmercy and Éponine the Great. Marius was a dear, that is the only description one may use, though he was a genuine prat to Éponine.  He was sweet, aside from that: My beliefs on the infamous "Cosette and Marius spoon" scene varied between laughing, rollings of eyes, making "piffle" "pbbbt" sounds and smiling insipidly. To depart from the romantic aspect of his character (What am I saying? That is about most of it!) he was not quite the most rational, realistic, personage in the eternity of writing. But he was kind, good, devoted, lovable, and determined. Ah, skip the determined. And replace it with the adjective "dreamy." As real life dictates... dreaming isn't always the best, but with him, sometimes, it's fine.

Éponine - She well deserved the title of "Great" for she was. I expected the preeminent love triangle... but of course a love triangle... yet somehow it failed to enduringly annoy. She changed from a piteous, nearly mad girl in poor surroundings to a lovely, heroic and courageous girl still in poor surroundings... but yet noble. SPOILER:SPOILER:SPOILER And her last words?

"I think, Monsieur Marius," the girl said. "I was a little bit in love with you."

And in the movie she SINGS A DUET with him, but, nevertheless..... But nevertheless I take umbrage at that flagrant disregard for any common emotion.

SPOILER-END:SPOILER-END:SPOILER-END. Did I just say Marius was lovable? Be that as it may, he is.

(N.B. I could have shouted at the page for him to forget about Cosette for four seconds enough to notice the poor, dis-affianced (Postscript: change that to in-affluent, I was unaware the definition of affianced was "engaged"), miserable, golden-hearted girl by his side of course.)

Hm. Inspector Javert. He had a variety of Crowning Moments of Awesome, and also Crowning Moments of, well, Crud. It was fairly a dead-giveaway with Victor Hugo's lovely comparison to the one wolf of the litter that the dam must kill for the others to make it out...
See, that character has many, many vulpine and lupine metaphors to his name. It is not very subtle but it's striking.
He was a bit Deus Ex Machina at times, that is to say quite often, but had his merits. As a character... Not really as a person. Regardless, who doesn't cheer (Soon to be ruthlessly and unspeakably cut short) when he lets Valjean go free?

THE EDITION.

I have recently gained the knowledge (From reading the cover inset, THAT WHICH I DO NOT RECOMMEND IF YOU HAVEN'T READ THE BOOK) that this translation, Charles Wilbour's, was made by a friend of Hugo's (Yes, yes, I do mean Charles Wilbour) and indeed the original English translation. Applause.  Privately when the editions of Julie Rose's and Charles Wilbour's are set up beside eachother, I prefer Rose's. However, each of them DEFINITELY requires a lot of getting used to. Very much so, and that is the one of the great stumbling-blocks of this book.

TEH WRITING.

Deus Ex Machina parades on nearly every book, mind you (It's made of Parts e.g. "Cosette", Books e.g. "Waterloo" and Chapters e.g. "I") and occasionally that can become annoying but overall the best writing in it disguises its stilted moments. Occasionally there is ridiculously antiquated writing, but I note we don't complain as much about the modernisms in Julie Rose's translation. Telling. Numerous lovely, saccharine, heartrending, and beautiful moments were spread about SPOILER: SPOILER:SPOILER Just for Éponine's fall, not only do you want to use the word "fall" in lieu of "death" but it will stick with you, and everywhere you read it will be incorporated to a milieu of memory. SPOILER-END:SPOILER-END:SPOILER-END. It was beautiful. Cosette and Marius' meeting was enough to bring, consecutively, eye-rolls, "HAH"s, head-tosses, relieved sighs, smiles, and laughs. Good old couple, they shouldn't singly be remembered for the end.

The afternoon in Mont-Sur-Maire (M____ sur ____) I will always remember. It was "high fantastical". Deus Ex Machina....It was heartrending, one of the heartrending moments of the story. It honestly reveals the depth and goodness of Valjean's character, and the contrast to Javert's.

And the much controversial: Waterloo. Plainly I can't see why everyone complains... It spends sixty pages discussing something unrelated to the plot, but intricately interwoven with the setting of France and though not really underscoring the July Revolution, made recompense in the excitement. I consider myself a fairly prolific reader of history yet I could not find a more zestful one. Yes, sixty some pages digressing from the plot, Marius, the ABC and all is zestful. It hardly detracts from the quality, in fact adds, and an abridged edition cannot in my estimation past muster.

Mm. Yes. The Friends of the ABC got better. Please, please, please, take my word for it and STUDY THEM WHEN THEY FIRST APPEAR. I tell you, you will by no means regret it. Of course it will hurt even more that way. Brutality of war, mind you Reader.

Doubtlessly more elaboration will present itself, but I will simply close this review with the acknowledgement this is an unforgettable AMAZING book.

Mmm. Thanks for reading!

Erstwhile "Blogger", Eternal Bibliophile, Inestimably Long-Winded (Though, I am lachrymose to admit, little of that aforementioned loquacity was immediately evident.),

-Anacostia Mirabow-Marignac!

A lexicon of which Austen and Dickens would be proud. Obfuscating, incognito, premeditated, and other adjectives, Or: Remember, you got it all here. A discourse upon language.

Today's post (or in any case this one) will be about the illustrious and highly multifarious topic of...
The English Language! Renowned for it's obfuscation to anyone not a native speaker, and no wonder for it's tremendous confusion, you see, with all the repetitions of words with differentiations of meaning, elitist and perfectionist linguists, who, as a whole, do not include me as a member in ANY DEGREE, and the wondrous, wonderful, and neat words. I'll open with a list of my favorite syllabics of English (as is evident, I happen to like quite a many):
•Incognito. It possesses the i-t without a disgusting sound, in fact seeming vaguely of Romance language.
•Obfuscating. You've guessed this, haven't you? Too little of folk use it nowadays... A pity.
•Dickensian. Hearkens of everything Oliver Twist and David Copperfield; including the moving passages, stunning characters, and wonderful names, even not the extremely obfuscating phraseology (Which is a word your opinionated Author believes professors of English primarily use).
•Cherish. Raindrops on roses & whiskers on kittens are brought to mind, candy hearts, and golden roses, et all...!
•Rhodomontade. Unless you REALLY paid attention reading Northanger Abbey, this will not occur much in your day-to-day discourse. In case Good Reader is wondering, it means hubris or arrogance; bluster, or, Merriam-Webster informs me (for even I need the dictionary, in fact without it...) a rant.
•Incidentally. It's "by the way" in one word, four syllables, and intelligence. Not to say only people with an extensive vocabulary are intelligent, mind you.

To differentiate this from the stock pedagogical pamphlet of pandering professors of prose and picky declamations of precision, there might be a bit of ranting. And naturally my rhodomontadenous (That is not "rhododendron." It is the adjectival form of rhodomontade) voice.

Firstly, I would explain my method of talking: This will overlap with the second mark. Tell you what, while it is highly convoluted, almost fatuous, sanctimonious, supercilious and tiring, I would MUCH rather sound like, say, Elizabeth Bennet with my "Good graciouses" and "My heavens" than a common dis-user of language and profanity (Yes, okay, it is nice to swear oaths when your dog happens to be particularly annoying... or a un-premeditated faceplant, but I prefer a modicum!). It may sound like Robert Bulwar-Lytton's infamous opening sentence ("It was a dark, and stormy night"  Which personally I adore) Nonetheless, Reader, it is far superior to "Yo, #YOLOswag,". Savvy?

Secondly, there is a great many words in our language, common and uncommon, contemporary and antique.  While I cannot encroach on anyone else's method of reading or writing, or talking or speech, I CAN include a bit about the origins and words in English. Especially those that I use!

Between the fog and heath of Scotland, the cold of Scandinavia, and the guttural pre-German a language evolved in England: Old English. This was not even the English of "When that Aprile with his shoures soote... When Zephyrus eek his sweet breath" and its Canterbury Tales, this was a different entity hundreds of years before at the time of Rome's fall: the fifth century.  Even, in England, there were dialects in Northumberland, Wales, the center of England, London...making many people's language mutually indecipherable. This went on until the eleven-hundreds, at the advent of Middle-English. That is fairly obfuscating to a contemporary reader also. Think Shakespeare's Folios... With "e"'s, "y"'s "u"'s, and elsewise confusing additions and deductions. 
Geoffrey Chaucer was heavily responsible for the beginning of Middle-English, also (Chaucer's "eek", in case you're wondering) with the amount of authors evolving their tongue, it was impossible for change. 

By the time of Queen Elizabeth it all was fairly straightforward. Shakespeare did his thing, the common rabble ate it up, the gentry raised their eyebrows and stifled smiles, Elizabeth ruled, London was a veritable hive of villainy, et all. (Incidentally Shakespeare's writ was more complex than the common language of that time).
Ahem. Merriam-Webster is a sapient thing indeed.

BUT, I digress. While we have the means and references to speak our language why don't we? The adjective "brainy" is not in personal use, for the preferred medium of conveying that thought? Under erudite's jurisdiction. Prats, jesters, celebrities, jackanapes, mendicants, eleemosynary personages, lovely ones, foolish ones, cheery ones, phlegmatic ones all go around... Well, you can't cover all of them with a few words and an adjective. Language, language, language, ladies and gentlemen and let us all persist verbose.

Thanks for reading, er, Reader,

-Anacostia Mirabow-Marignac.

The Fourth Crusade: It was fun for us historians, but boy was it terrible for them.

Also under the title of "Quite Possibly the Most Hysterical and Probably the Most Hypocritical of the Crusading Trainwrecks," excepting the fact that is not so pithy. Well, maybe.

Regardless, et voilà. The Fourth Crusade: In conflict between 1198 and 1204. Enjoy!

In eleven-hundred-and-ninety-seven another event would transgress that would change Occident and Orient, for the duration of at least forty years.  In Europe conflicts, oustings, papacies, and weddings were rife in the noble gentry and rivalries abounded but besides that: There was a new Pope in power. Yes, the most puissant[1] Innocent III!  Unfortunately for the Crusade, he still was young and excitable and not so grumpy as some other religious leaders and decided it was high time to saddle up the ole' ponies and go off to the Middle-East to raise up some here hullabaloo. They weren't cowboys needless to say... but of course it must have been something like that!

Right?

...Right...

His first mission was to attempt to unite the  kings Phillip II of France and Richard the Lionheart of England. These two rulers used to be besties, but now they weren't exactly friendly. In fact they were at war! That did not last long, however, and a truce was called. Furthermore Richard I died shortly thereafter so unless they were going to try an El-Cid [2] there was very, very little chance of the English coming to Outremer. Especially when King John the Much-Maligned succeeded his brother. The French.... they were not excruciatingly intrigued either.

Ah but I lost my train of thought. So. . . . Yes. The would-be-lovely-Crusading-time was in dire straits when a holy man named Fulk, of Neuilly France preached the Fourth Crusade. He was much renowned and his word was key to the Crusaders. Innocent was overjoyed to hear this and sent a papal minion to help him out: Peter of Capua[3]. I can't say anything better than de Villehardouin[4] so:  for Like killing people and stuff.  Still, in Champagne, France a tournament was staged with much pomp and ceremony at Ecri Castle where many lords, ladies and knights alike "took the cross" to Crusade.(Fascinating:  "The cross was taken at Bruges by Count Baldwin of Flanders and Hainault, and by the Countess Mary his wife.[1])

This tournament was organized by Thibault of Champagne, a count. Despite the puissantness of the volunteers, it was discovered at a council thereafter they had a deficit of Crusaders and consequently the Holy Land was not in the cards. So they waited in Soissons for their envoys to return from Venice. They contacted Enrico Dandelo the Doge of Venice with very much pontificating and ceremony and Enrico being rather benign, granted them ships capable of the Kessel Run in over 12 parsecs. No, actually, I don't think they had watched Star Wars: A New Hope so instead it could only carry 4,500 knights. O! Dull reality! Elsewise they also had vessels to transport many horses (A whopping 4,500) and squires (9,000) as well as much room for men-at-arms Entirely, Enrico Dandelo was magnanimous toward them.

By this time our puissant friend Thibault had died, leaving Matilda- His wife -and several children. A new ruler Boniface of Montferrat was selected.
Boniface had some ulterior motives all right, his relatives were Byzantines and Crusaders, moreover contenders for Byzantine rule. He was declared the carrier of the cross and commander of the Crusade at Notre Dame Cathedral. Before they departed to Venice however, another of their leaders died: Count Geoffrey of Perche. Although these two men's death made more of a spiritual loss to the soldiers than materiel, by the time they arrived in Dandelo's territory a few[1]of them were gone as well. Seeing they took a lot of the ships and soldiers with them, they thought discretion was the better part of valor. 

Just over ten-thousand men had arrived, where thrice that number were thought to be coming and so able the Venetians' payment depending on the amount of people able to pay the fee for the ships... The Crusaders were not going anywhere until their allies got the goods, in other words. Their time in Venice carried on, with no hope of fulfilling the Doge's payment unless Pope Innocent got steamed, as he was getting, and placing an interdict (Some legal/papal prohibition) on Venice. Doge Enrico got a little canny and altered his agreement: Instead of paying the prior-concurred thirty-four-thousand marks of silver, he made a speech to Venice declaring the Crusaders could conquer back a castle in Hungary- Zara Castle - and that would be considered recompense.

Succinct digression: Sclavonia, where this aforementioned castle resided, was a province bordering modern-day Croatia and is beneath Lower Hungary. The city of Zara, incidentally? It was a Christian land. Hypocrisy alarms are just going off like mad.

After that Enrico Dandelo gave a speech in the Basilica of St. Marc in which he declared he, too, would take the cross and crusade with these knights(If they could get out of Venice that is). "You are associated with the most worthy people in the world," he said to them. "If you will consent that I take the sign of the cross to guard and direct you, and that my son remain in my place to guard the land, then shall I go to fight or die with you and with the pilgrims."

Cue the resounding cheers and joyous alarum. 

`Anyway a few of the soldiers had qualms about betraying their crusading oath, but the majority, or at any rate the majority in charge decided that Zara would be just bally fine to attack. After all, they were doing it to further the Crusades & in no way their materiel fortune, right? Never in the least was it lousy hypocrisy! However, a few, just a few flatly denied the morality of it and refused to go. They were the smart ones. Pope Innocent was threatening excommunication.

When you consider that Rome was supposed to represent the Christian faith, or at least the formalities of the Christian faith and moreover what had sent these people in the first place, it was be just a teensy bit embarrassing if they happened to be excommunicated. So, right-o, they were excommunicated. Then the Pope changed his mind, then changed it back and they were again excommunicated. Ow. The leaders kept that under wraps, for matters of morale you see.

They conquered Zara all right. Let me see what our primary source has to say about this. Oh okay! If my Reader doesn't mind I'll skip further religious dialogues, as I think you've been treated to enough of these dull oscillations of morals and pontificating. During that winter of 1202 and 1203 bunked in Zara, it was proposed to the force that they would travel to Constantinople, in order to fight there.

Someone was rotten in the state of Denmar-That is, Constantinople. (Act I, Scene I, Marcellus. He's the guardsman at the beginning.... I can't believe I had to use Google to recall who said that. The ignominy of Googling Shakespeare!).

See the king Isaac II Angelos had been overthrown by the usurper Alexius III Comnenus[7]) Who happened to be his brother. And an elder brother to be precise, which begs the question of why he did not succeed to the throne in the first place[8]. (Ir) regardless the Crusaders set sail in spring of 1203 for Constantinople, perhaps even nine-hundred-and-eleven years before this was written in the latter bit of April. They took a small, hostile interlude in Corfù a island presently the property of Greece but then Romanian, and then went on to capture other islands and cities of which is  recorded assiduously but is a little soporific, but essentially the Crusaders got a load of food and supplies from various islands before arriving  at their destination: Sunny Constantinople! In the languorous days of June Emperor Alexius III demanded to know their business there. They declared their martial plan and needless to say, Alexius was rather alarmed.

                Constantinople was a mighty city, its walls were sovereign in their strength and height, and filled with fairly marvelous architecture of what the Crusaders were amazed by. Constantinople's harbor, the harbor of the Golden Horn was defended by a chain passing under the water[9] , which while awesome, that had a rather adverse effect on the efforts of the Crusaders to surround it by land and sea. Nothing deters holy warriors of course and the Venetians broke through it on the fifth of July and the force divided as follows: The Franks, comprised of Germans and French, took the northwestern side by the imperial palace Blachernae, and the Venetians came from the Golden Horn. On the seventeenth the Crusaders attacked on an amphibious assault, finding Alexius' tents and plundering them, capturing a borough, Galata, ere being stormed by the Varangian Guard, a collection of mercenaries from Scandinavia and Britain. These axe-wielding insaniacs so to speak, quickly drove them back and the Venetians flagged, rather scared out of their wits so to speak before Doge Enrico Dandelo told his boatman to sail for the shore. He landed and joined the mêlée  and the Venetians could not stand back any longer[10]. With further ado they captured the walls. A day later Alexius III took action. He led his men outside to the plain to confront the invaders[11]. The Crusaders militants currently held the plain and the twenty-six towers of the wall, and despite that the army they faced was terrifying. Alexius and his troops marched forward, covering the plain and... the invaders braced themselves... Alexius returned to the city with his army, inexplicably[12].

That evening the Venetians were forced to retreat from their quadrent of the wall, because they could not hold it without the Franks taking their counterpart on the other end. Evidently they didn't. You know, this whole Crusade is beastly confusing.

And that night Alexius fled the city with his daughter Eirene, and also a ton of money. Those remaining in Blachernae decided that, as men and women of any day, discretion was the better part of valor and rather than rebel and face execution they would unlock Isaac from his cell and voilà, the prince became the co-ruler and Alexius IV and Isaac II Comnenus became emperors.

Unfortunately, all was not fair henceforward. The Byzantines disliked the Franks, and no wonder for they were allegedly fouling up the streets, burning a mosque, and if that display of vicious intolerance and disrespect was not enough the flames spread and burned a section of the city.
Alexius IV could not display the finances needed to pay the Venetians for their troubles, and as a result discord spread. The Crusaders were all in a bother whether or not to stay, and prolong their rather anti-Crusading stay at Constantinople or to continue to Syria and do some actual Crusading. They decided to stay through the winter and leave at March to provide more support for Alexius IV.

This is the point my primary source goes all-out, shrieking "Perfidy of the villainous Greeks!" ... Even though these were Byzantines, and moreover had never been Greek! It's named the Eastern Roman Empire for reasons.[13] So I'll be reverting to an essay for sources... It was at first a good thing that they didn't leave, because our old friends the kings of Byzantium found themselves increasingly distanced from ruling, and dissent was growing. The citizens were restless. The beleaguered Alexius IV planned to ask the Crusaders to repeat their help and quell a pretender: Nicholas Canavos. This plan he entrusted to a general, Alexius Murzuphlus, who  was rather... vitriolically opposed to it. Promptly telling the Varangian Guard that if King Alexius indeed carried on with his plan they would be replaced with Western guards. And that was sufficient motivation for the Varangian Guard to barricade Alexius' apartments. He contacted Murzuphlus to ask for help, and the future Alexius V led him through a secret door to where the Varangians waited. 

He was thrown in a prison and was strangled a few days later in February 5th , Isaac dying less than a week afterward. "Alexius V" crowned himself on February 4th and his reign began. The Crusaders wouldn't let it last long.

They were getting fed up with the constant betrayals, treachery, usurpers, and Alexius's and decided "Ah, what the heck. We're good old Crusaders and good old Crusaders know when to put their foot down!" and to instate a Westerner "Latin" as the emperor. What followed was a delightfully devious bit of Venetian political wrangling. As a committee died down in March 1205, it was settled that the Venetians would take three-quarters of the Byzantine riches,  in recompense for the Crusaders' and Greeks' debt and the remaining booty would be given to the Crusaders. The Venetians would get the Aegean Islands and anything in the Byzantine Empire that had ever been held by them... Twelve electors - Half of which were Venetian and half elsewise - Would deem the next ruler. In an astonishing show of hypocrisy hitherto unknown even in the very.... unfair Crusades the Greek Orthodox Church would be degraded to provide land and income for them.

The Crusaders would remain a year to provide for the next ruler and voilà. The Venetians got it good.

The army attacked on April 9th and at first were rebuffed. However they regrouped and resumed their attack four days later, the 13th they continued. I will take this moment to remark the inhabitants of Constantinople[14]had it the worst of all. Five rulers are deposed or died in two years, their city is invaded by uncouth foreigners, their livelihoods and refuges are destroyed, selcouth[15] Venetians divide up their empire, and their city is almost culturally obliterated. Poor Constantinople. The ones caught in the middle always suffer the most of all.

Harsh fighting led to the Venetians scaling with walls with their ladders and almost synchronously another platoon broke down a wall.[16] From leading the army to fleeing, Murzuphlus fled the city almost instantly and the grand place was left to the marauders. They decimated the supplies, gold, riches, culture, religion, and almost being of the city to leave a skeleton, the past state unforseen again until Mehmed the Conquerer restored the glory.

Byzantium became fiefdoms ruled by marquises[17], barons, princes and counts.[18] Several lords and soldiers stayed, granted fiefdoms and lands in Outremer. More still traveled back to Europe and were lauded for their deeds in the Holy Land, for though they were technically under excommunication, but the 1oo7 from Constantinople were apparently enough for it to be ignored.

The Occidental rule of Byzantium went on forty years, until it was re-taken by the Byzantines.[19]In that interim, a multitude of pretenders attempted to take power.

Ironically, the newspapers or whichever medium of tidings (Of which, yes, they positively were not newspapers...) must have been rather lame because the mostly recorded people of that time still believed the Fourth Crusade to be a paragon of excellence; a pinnacle of chivalry; a paradigm of idealism; a prevalence of awesome sauce. All right, perhaps not that much but it was not quite recognized, it seems, for what it was!

It was a disastrous and ineffectual Crusade that did little else beside expend the lives of many people. It provides good fodder for a rant! Also, footnotes are awesome. Shoot, this is devilishly hard to finish...

And they lived happily ever after?

Um...

There ends the Fourth Crusade?

Thanks for reading? Yes. Thanks for reading!

 

---

[1] Puissant was a disturbingly popular word.

[2]  El Cid was an Iberian commander and soldier during the Reconquista of Spain. The origin of that rather peculiar metaphor is that when he died, they were still at war and Ximena Diaz, his wife, strapped the corpse wearing armor to his horse and sent it into battle. It apparently worked. I know.

[3] Capua:  City, former capital of the Campania region of Italy. Nineteen miles from Naples. Ah, aren't footnotes divine?

[4] I am going for another footnote here. Geoffrey de Villehardouin was a chronicler of the Fourth Crusade who in fact served in the Crusades himself.

[5] All quotations here are from Geoffrey of Villehardouin's chronicle of the Fourth Crusade, on  fordham.edu.

[6] Think twenty thousand. Reference the monetary troubles.

[7] Comnenus was the title of the king of Byzantium, first employed by the great Alexius the I of First Crusade renowned. As many rulers have done throughout history, that was to connect Alexius III to the majesty of old 'n stuff. Comnena was the feminine equivalent e.g. the great Anna Comnena. Footnotes are informative, c'est ne pas?

[8] I am unable to find further information which would elucidate that.

[9] These footnotes are beginning to turn unprofessional. These chain-types, for there have been more than a few, are officially named "booms".

[10]  Incidentally Dandelo was in his eighties.

[11] I believe it was fine of the Crusaders to help the deposed king and prince, but as this is almost the antithesis of a Crusade, henceforth they'll be termed "invaders" rather than Crusaders. Do not mind.

[12]Personally despite being the historically merciless cynic yours truly is, I like to believe he saw the error of his ways. Oh dear. He blinded Isaac so fraternal affection, I think, it out of the question. Oh dear.

[13] These make digressions so much more easy! At Rome's fall in 476 A.D., at the advent of a Gallic man named Odovecar and the deposing of King Romulus Augustulus (Augustulus was a nickname; It means, "Little Augustus." He was only a kid when he was king.) Rome had "split" (though no-one considered it so) into two parts: The Western Roman Empire e.g. Spain, Italy, southern France, etc, and the Eastern Roman Empire was Turkey, Iraq, Palestine, etc.

[14] I unequivocally adore these footnotes. What was I saying? Imagine Dragons is terrible? Um... Oh, yes. Yes. Constantinople was termed as such until 1438 when Mehmed the Conquerer sieged and with his eponymous conquering, renamed it "Istanbul". The name did not precisely catch on until "Persia" became Iraq, approximately in 1925.

[15] Mmm. That is to say "Unusual, especially in a way that is wonderful or exotic." Not that the two are synonymous.  I was advised that readers would bleep over it if they were not aware of the meaning. Piffle. Google was invented for a reason, lassitudinous readers! Uh... I invented that word, very well. "Lassitude" is laziness or sloth.

[16]  "Harsh fighting" is an entirely self-evident tautology, which is to say the very meaning of it is obvious and fighting is always harsh, thus the usage of such a phrase is repetitive.

[17] That's the plural of marquis. Not to be confused with "Marquess" which is the uncivilized way to misspell the One True Spelling of marquis.

[18] For instance the count of Thebes, the prince of Achaia, a duke of Athens - Hehe, Shakespeareans? There is the reasoning for Theseus "Duke of Athens" -A marquis of Corinth... Which may or may not be the single marquises, counts, princes, and dukes I can find that were in the Middle East.

[19] I consider it my historian's duty to say that the sources I have used ubiquitously refer to the Byzantines as the Greeks... Say to that what you will.