30 January 680 ... the death of Balthild, the Anglo-Saxon slave girl turned queen of the Franks.
The background to Balthild’s enslavement is a mystery, but it seems she was a native of East Anglia and perhaps an innocent victim of dynastic fighting over the throne.
Her biographer, writing a decade after Balthild’s death, says she taken when very young 'from across the sea' (i.e., from Britain). In Francia, she became the protégé of Erchinoald, the top official in the royal palace and the protector of the young king Clovis II. (Of Erchinoald, a chronicler said, “he lined his own pockets, to be sure, but quite moderately”.)
In 648, king Clovis II chose her as his bride. When he died nine years later, Balthild acted as regent for their son Chlothar III until he too came of age. She spent the last 15 years of her life in retirement (possibly forced) in the nunnery at Chelles, which is now a suburb of Paris.
Within a decade of Balthild’s death, she was on her way to sainthood. The nuns of Chelles opened the grave and Balthild’s long plaits of hair (greying strawberry-blonde and tied with red, yellow and green silk ribbons) her bones and her burial clothing were all bundled up and placed in a reliquary casket. The nuns, thinking ahead, even left authentication slips for future generations!
What’s extraordinary is that these relics survived the French Revolution (when they were already 1,100 years old). That’s because Chelles sent its entire medieval collection into hiding before the Revolutionaries got there.
The caskets stayed in a local church until 1983, when a local historian persuaded the Church authorities to open them.
To their astonishment, they found the relics that Chelles had been hoarding since its foundation in the 7th-Century. These included the bones of Queen Balthild. It turns out she was just over 5 feet tall.
The fragments of textile show the queen went to the grave in a brown silk dress and a silk girdle woven with animal motifs; a yellow silk veil; and a fringed mantle of red and yellow silk fastened with a small gold brooch.
Surviving in much better condition is a white linen pinafore apron embroidered at the neckline with necklaces, pendants and the cross.
The story goes that the retired queen used to attend mass decked out in all her royal jewels until a visiting holy man rebuked her for her lack of humility in church. Balthild took off the trappings of wealth, kept one pair of gold bracelets and gave away the rest. After that, she wore the linen pinafore with the ghostly outline of the jewels she no longer owned.
This way, she advertised her piety to the nuns inside the convent walls ... while at the same, subtly reminding them of the royal power she had given up to join them
You know how every once in a while you do something and the little voice inside says, ‘There. That’s it. That’s why you’re here.’ …and you get a warm glow in your heart because you know it’s true? Do more of that ..
~Jacob Nordby Artist Iris Sucatto
@lonelytauros 🤣 Seems to be the theme of the day.
Tallulah Bankhead, on being told there was no toilet paper available: "Well, do you have two fives for a ten?"
Bankhead was known for her husky voice, outrageous personality, and devastating wit. Originating some of the 20th century theater's preeminent roles in comedy and melodrama, she gained acclaim as an actress on both sides of the Atlantic.
Bankhead had received critical acclaim for her performance in the 1939 Broadway production of Hellman's play "The Little Foxes," but director William Wyler, who previously had teamed with Bette Davis on "Jezebel" (1938) and "The Letter" (1940), insisted on casting her in the lead role in the 1941 film version instead. Producer Samuel Goldwyn agreed, since none of Bankhead's films had been box office hits (Coincidentally, Davis had recreated on film another of Bankhead's Broadway roles, Judith Traherne in the 1939 film version of "Dark Victory"). However, Davis was reluctant: "On 'The Little Foxe,s' I begged the producer, Samuel Goldwyn, to let Tallulah Bankhead play Regina because Tallulah was magnificent on the stage. He wouldn't let her."
In 1944, Alfred Hitchcock cast Bankhead as cynical journalist Constance Porter in her most successful film, both critically and commercially, "Lifeboat" (below). Her superbly multifaceted performance was acknowledged as her best on film and won her the New York Film Critics Circle award. A beaming Bankhead accepted her New York trophy and exclaimed, "Dahlings, I was wonderful!"
Tallulah Bankhead was considered for the role of Margo Channing in "All About Eve" (1950) after Claudette Colbert dropped out due to a back injury before filming began. However, Bette Davis, who went on to receive a Best Actress Oscar nomination for her performance, was cast instead.
"Don't think I don't know who's been spreading gossip about me. After all the nice things I've said about that hag [Bette Davis]. When I get hold of her, I'll tear out every hair of her mustache!"
"Bette and I are very good friends. There's nothing I wouldn't say to her face, both of them." (IMDb/Wikipedia)
Happy Birthday, Tallulah Bankhead!
Scratch that, see you in a few weeks [netrunner]
184 pages on this thread … is the first banned profile on the “quote of the day “ 🤔
TŌDAIKI
In the silken tapestry of Japanese folklore, woven with threads of both beauty and sorrow, lies the tale of the Todaiki – the "Human Candlestick." This is not a story of monsters and mayhem, but of a love that defies distance and a family's unwavering devotion in the face of unimaginable hardship.
Imagine, if you will, the Heian era, a time of blossoming cherry blossoms and whispered courtly intrigues. A young husband, entrusted with a delicate mission, bids farewell to his wife and son, their eyes brimming with both pride and fear. Days turn into weeks, then months, with no word from across the sea. The wife, her heart heavy with worry, clings to the hope of a reunion, while their son, as he grows, whispers his father's name into the wind.
Unknown to them, a cruel twist of fate awaits the emissary in China. Betrayal and torture strip him of his voice, his very humanity warped by a sorcerer's dark magic. He becomes a Todaiki, a grotesque creature – a human body transformed into a macabre candlestick, forever trapped in silent suffering.
Years pass, the wife's hair turning silver with the weight of unanswered prayers. Yet, the flame of hope flickers within the son. When he comes of age, he sets sail, driven by an unwavering love and a yearning to unravel the mystery of his father's disappearance. His journey is long and arduous, filled with perils and dead ends, but his determination never falters.
Finally, in a hidden corner of China, he stumbles upon a sight that chills his blood. A figure, shrouded in shadows, sits motionless, a candle flickering atop its tattooed head. This is not a man, but a living nightmare, yet something in the eyes, a flicker of recognition, ignites a spark of hope.
The son, overcome with emotion, calls out to his father. But the figure remains silent, its lips sewn shut by the sorcerer's curse. Then, in an act of heartbreaking sacrifice, the Todaiki bites his own finger, letting the blood flow onto the ground. With trembling fingers, he writes a poem, a testament to his love and longing, a final message to his son.
As the son reads the poem, tears blurring the ink, the truth crashes upon him. This tortured creature, this grotesque mockery of a man, is his father. He gathers his father in his arms, the warmth of human touch a balm on the Todaiki's cursed form. They embark on a return journey, not of triumph, but of bittersweet homecoming.
The Todaiki never fully recovers. His voice remains stolen, his body forever marked by the sorcerer's cruelty. But he is home, surrounded by the love of his family. The story of the Todaiki is a stark reminder that even in the face of unimaginable darkness, the bonds of family can endure. It is a testament to the lengths we will go to for those we love, a whispered promise that hope, even in its most fragile form, can illuminate even the deepest shadows.
So remember, when you gaze upon a flickering candle, let it be a reminder not just of light and warmth, but of the enduring power of love, a love that can transcend even the most monstrous transformations and guide us home, even from the darkest corners of the world.
@MissAdventurous Oh Miss Suzy that one touches me. That book came out in 1964 and I came out in 1962 and I read the hell out of it in first grade. A favorite but I hadn’t thought of it in eons. My mom taught me to read off that book while dad was in Vietnam.
@BoomerSpooner -- when I visit my grandparents, she still has the original books I used to read as a little girl. Miss Suzy is a quiet favorite of mine too. Nostalgic ⭐