YAREAHMagazineIssue 19. December 2011

77

toLiterature - Arts

Rubens. The Three Graces

Literature

a r e a h

magazine wor-

ked and 18 issues

were published. We stu-

died James Joyce and One

Thousand and One Nights, we

terrorized with Vampires and we

questioned with Ovid and Kafka, we

loved the Avant-garde movement and

we learned with Zola or Ruyard Ki-

pling… So many issues, so many stu-

dies, so many authors and artists.

We liked to compare an old author with

a

n e w

one and

illustrated

t h e i r

thoughts with

current artists or

crafters: a world of

fantasy and colour, a

world of ancient

Myths which revived

again.

Yareah was a bilingual (En-

glish-Spanish) magazine but

now, and after a break of se-

veral months, the magazine

has started again, with the

same objectives and struc-

ture but only in English lan-

guage (internet has

improved its translators and

our strength is limited).

‘Seven to Seven’ is our new

issue (19).

Seven is our

lucky number and our

lucky hope. You can read about

our seven lucky painters and authors

and you can admire or criticize them.

Yareah magazine is a field of fantasy

and freedom and all is possible here.

We hope you enjoy the magazine so

much as we enjoy our work.

Y

In 2009, Yareah magazine started its way to discover what is Art and what is the deepIn 2009, Yareah magazine started its way to discover what is Art and what is the deepmeaning of Literature. A marvelous way, full of great collaborators, people who love tomeaning of Literature. A marvelous way, full of great collaborators, people who love tomagnify men and women reminding them that not only are they a body of basic functionsmagnify men and women reminding them that not only are they a body of basic functionsbut a brain with thoughts, feelings and hopes.but a brain with thoughts, feelings and hopes.

A New HelloYAREAH

Magazine

by Martin Cid

Michelangelo.Moses

The Peasant and the Birdnester byPieter Bruegel the Elder, 1568

David and Goliath by Michelan-gelo, 1509

Literature

e are not superstitions but,

well, you never know and, in

any case, we wouldn’t like to face with

that powerful goddess, who removes

and places at will.

Then, we should choose our seven fa-

vorite writes as well as our seven pain-

ters for the art section, and this is a

laborious task since we could choose a

hundred or even a thousand.

The first one (any doubt) must be

Homer. He is the first well-known au-

thor of the history and his main cha-

racters, the heroes and heroines of our

childhood. The second one (there is no

doubt either) must be Cervantes since

Don Quixote not only is the best novel

of every time but (in our point of

view) the most hilarious. We haven’t

got many problems to choose the fo-

llowing two writers: Dickens, the crea-

tor of the novelistic modern structure,

and Shakespeare, who would disagree

with this last choice?

From here, the going gets tough.

Joyce?, Zola?, Cortazar?, Hugo?,

Scott?, Faulkner?, Borges?, Kipling?,

Dos Passos?, Hemingway?, Tolstoy?...

Yes, it is really difficult the selection.

Fortunately, we are speaking about our

Seven Lucky Writers nor about the best

ones. The fifth (the whole Yareah team

agrees) should be Poe. ‘The Raven’ has

been a poem which excited the youth

of all of us (it will be for some reason,

we don’t believe in causalities).

Well and what about the two remai-

ning? We remember as an interesting

experience the issue dedicated to Me-

tamorphosis: ‘Ovid vs. Kafka’, well sui-

ted to our current vagaries. Then, Ovid

will be the sixth.

And the seventh is Oscar Wilde since

the preface to Dorian Gray is a song

for Arts.

Seven to Seven. Seven writers and

Seven painters that you will find in 19

issue of Yareah magazine: December

2011 together with our thoughts and

experiences besides them.

Lucky 2012!

W

Seven is the number of this return of Yareah. Seven is a beautiful number, full of holly meSeven is the number of this return of Yareah. Seven is a beautiful number, full of holly me --mories (remember the Bible, where ‘Seven times Seven’ means the infinite) and full of luckymories (remember the Bible, where ‘Seven times Seven’ means the infinite) and full of luckypromises (tradition said it is the number of Fortune).promises (tradition said it is the number of Fortune).

Seven Writers of

our Memory

YAREAHMagazine

Sabela Baña

Elisabeth Vigée-Lebrun. Alexandra and Elena Pavlovna

LiteratureYAREAHMagazine

t was the best of times,

it was the worst of times,

it was the age of wisdom,

it was the age of foolishness,

it was the epoch of belief,

it was the epoch of incredulity,

it was the season of Light,

it was the season of Darkness,

it was the spring of hope,

it was the winter of despair,

we had everything before us,

I

In 1859, Charles Dickens wrote ‘A Tale of Two Cities’. It is a novel set in Paris and London,In 1859, Charles Dickens wrote ‘A Tale of Two Cities’. It is a novel set in Paris and London,before and during the French Revolution. It ranks among the most famous works in thebefore and during the French Revolution. It ranks among the most famous works in thehistory of fictional literature and it is a reference to every novelist and screenwriter, eshistory of fictional literature and it is a reference to every novelist and screenwriter, es --pecially for Dickens’ way of introducing characters: slowly, step by step, pecially for Dickens’ way of introducing characters: slowly, step by step, forcing the reader to

desire meet the ideal Lucy Manette or the cynic Sidney Carton, because the reader has heard about them before. Maybe

the first time was only a whisper, a word that other character has pronounced; maybe the second time was a gossip that

someone has said between two sentences; maybe three pages after we need to know who Dickens wants.

‘More Dickens and less Shakespeare’ Matt Damon claims in the film Hereafter (directed by Client Eastwood). Then, Ame-

rican films have learned of Dickens’ way of setting up

on the screen heroes and heroines, cowboys and princess,

killers and wonderful girls… The result has been a suc-

cess.

Here, it is the famous beginning of...

Charles Dickens,

a master for writ-

ers of all time

View of Toledo, The Greek

A Tale of Two

Cities

YAREAHMagazine

we had nothing before us,

we were all going direct to Heaven,

we were all going direct the other way--

in short, the period was so far like the

present period, that some of

its noisiest authorities insisted on its

being received, for good or for evil, in

the superlative degree of comparison

only.

There were a king with a large jaw and

a queen with a plain face, on the throne

of England; there were a king with a

large jaw and a queen with a fair face,

on the throne of France. In both coun-

tries it was clearer than crystal to the

lords of the State preserves of loaves

and fishes, that things in general were

settled for ever.

It was the year of Our Lord one thou-

sand seven hundred and seventy-five.

Spiritual revelations were conceded to

England at that favoured period, as at

this. Mrs. Southcott had recently attai-

ned her five-and-twentieth blessed

birthday, of whom a prophetic private

in the Life Guards had heralded the su-

blime appearance by announcing that

arrangements were made for the swallo-

wing up of London and Westminster.

Even the Cock-lane ghost had been laid

only a round dozen of years, after rap-

ping out its messages, as the spirits of

this very year last past (supernaturally

deficient in originality) rapped out

theirs. Mere messages in the earthly

order of events had lately come to the

English Crown and People, from a con-

gress of British subjects in America:

which, strange to relate, have proved

more important to the human race than

any communications yet received

through any of the chickens of the

Cock lane brood.

France, less favoured on the whole as to

matters spiritual than her

sister of the shield and trident, rolled

with exceeding smoothness down hill,

making paper money and spending it.

Under the guidance of her Christian

pastors, she entertained herself, besides,

with such humane achievements as sen-

tencing a youth to have his hands cut

off, his tongue torn out with pincers,

and his body burned alive, because he

had not kneeled down in the rain to do

honour to a dirty procession of monks

which passed within his view, at a dis-

tance of some fifty or sixty yards. It is

likely enough that, rooted in the woods

of France and Norway, there were gro-

wing trees, when that sufferer was put

to death, already marked by the Wood-

man,

Fate, to come down and be sawn into

boards, to make a certain movable fra-

mework with a sack and a knife in it, te-

rrible in history. It is likely enough that

in the rough outhouses of some tillers

of the heavy lands adjacent to Paris,

there were sheltered from the weather

that very day, rude carts, bespattered

with rustic mire, snuffed about by pigs,

and roosted in by poultry, which the

Farmer, Death, had already set apart to

be his tumbrils of the Revolution. But

that Woodman and that Farmer, though

they work unceasingly, work silently, and

no one heard them as they went about

with muffled tread: the rather, foras-

much as to entertain any suspicion that

they were awake, was to be atheistical

and traitorous.

Kindred Spirits, Asher B. Durand, 1849

Literature

LiteratureYAREAHMagazine

kinny, emaciated, thin and tired, the good

horse is riding to the afterlife. We are in

La Mancha, in the middle of the yellow

Spain, old country of dreams: where else?

Only the voice of centuries can ex-

plain what is the meaning of a

skinny horse travelling through silent

words.

Rocinante does not represent the silly lo-

yalty of an animal following its crazy

owner, a knight out of the books of chi-

valry. Rocinante is the wise traveler who

knows that the value of a trip is simply to

learn to live and to die, and to achieve the

afterlife in appropriate conditions to start

again: it is the eternal return.

Cervantes’ main character is Rocinante,

because La Mancha is a desert of wheat,

don Quixote is the ghost of its questions,

Sancho Panza is the sad reality and its goal

is to understand the meaning of the exis-

tence.

It is not worth rebelling, it is not worth

pausing, if it does not learn now, it will

learn afterwards.

S

‘Seven to Seven’ is the name of this new issue of Yareah Magazine. Seven writers, seven‘Seven to Seven’ is the name of this new issue of Yareah Magazine. Seven writers, sevenpainters, seven lucky new desires. Of course, Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra (1547-painters, seven lucky new desires. Of course, Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra (1547-1616) must be one of the writers. He wrote novels, poems, plays and his magnum opus1616) must be one of the writers. He wrote novels, poems, plays and his magnum opus‘Don Quixote of La Mancha). Here, and to honor Cervantes, it is the beginning of the best‘Don Quixote of La Mancha). Here, and to honor Cervantes, it is the beginning of the bestnovel of any time and a curious interpretation about Rocinante, his horse. novel of any time and a curious interpretation about Rocinante, his horse.

Cervantes and His

Hidden Meaningsby Martin Cid

Rocinante, Don Quixote’s

Horse

Saint George,by Rubens, 1607

LiteratureYAREAHMagazine

n a village of La Mancha,n a village of La Mancha,the name of which I havethe name of which I have

no desire to call to mind,no desire to call to mind,there lived not long since onethere lived not long since oneof those gentlemen thatof those gentlemen thatkeep a lance in the lance-keep a lance in the lance-rack, an old buckler, a leanrack, an old buckler, a leanhack, and a greyhound forhack, and a greyhound forcoursing. An olla of rathercoursing. An olla of rathermore beef than muon, amore beef than muon, asalad on most nights,salad on most nights,scraps on Saturdays, lentilsscraps on Saturdays, lentilson Fridays, and a pigeon oron Fridays, and a pigeon orso extra on Sundays, madeso extra on Sundays, madeaway with three-quarters ofaway with three-quarters ofhis income.his income.The rest of it went in a doublet of fine

cloth and velvet breeches and shoes to

match for holidays, while on week-days

he made a brave figure in his best ho-

mespun. He had in his house a house-

keeper past forty, a niece under twenty,

and a lad for the field and market-place,

who used to saddle the hack as

well as handle the bill-hook.

The age of this gentleman of

ours was bordering on fifty; he was of

a hardy habit, spare, gaunt-featured, a

very early riser and a great sportsman.

They will have it his surname was Qui-

xada or Quesada (for here there is

some difference of opinion among the

authors who write on the subject), al-

though from reasonable conjectures it

seems plain that he was called Que-

xana. This, however, is of but little im-

portance to our tale; it will be enough

not to stray a hair's breadth from the

truth in the telling of it.

You must know, then, that the above-

named gentleman whenever he was at

leisure (which was mostly all the year

round) gave himself up to reading

books of chivalry with such ardour and

avidity that he almost entirely neglected

the pursuit of his field-sports, and

eventhe management of his property;

and to such a pitch did his eagerness

and infatuation go that he sold many

an acre of tillageland to buy books of

chivalry to read, and brought home as

many of them as he could get. But of

all there were none he liked so well as

those of the famous Feliciano de Silva's

composition, for their lucidity of style

and complicated conceits were as pe-

arls in his sight, particularly when in his

reading he came upon courtships and

cartels...

I

Don Quixote of La Manchaby Miguel de Cervantes

The Vision of Saint John,by the Greek, 1608-1614

LiteratureYAREAHMagazine

ave you ever known aave you ever known ahandsome writer? Noohandsome writer? Noo --

ooo (you will answer), all ofooo (you will answer), all ofthem are terribly ugly, pothem are terribly ugly, po --orly dressed; sometimesorly dressed; sometimesunshaven, and some othersunshaven, and some otherswithout a teeth (see Cortawithout a teeth (see Corta --zar or Eco if you have anyzar or Eco if you have anydoubt).doubt).HHave you ever heard about a polite wri-

ter? Of course, no (neither me). They

have bad temper, they behave eccentric

and the list of drunkards would be in-

terminable (recently, Saramago has said

he is abstemious: well, every rule has

one exception, but no more than one).

Nevertheless, the majority of them

have had no problems with the oppo-

site sex and on the contrary, women

have raffled their company (the same

with authoresses and their relationship

with men).

A miracle? I don’t think so. I think they

know how to express their feelings and

how to guess the feelings of others,

they know how to communicate and

above all (and this point is essential

when courting), they are specialists in

entertaining and in resolving desperate

situations.

Years ago, I entered in a fashioned pub

with some friends. We saw a group of

nice girls and approached to them. But

the repellent brother of the best one (a

guy with round granny glasses, who se-

emed librarian) said:

-Only if you know the beginning of

the Odyssey, you can speak with these

girls.

Poor boy! Because I knew those verses

by heart and even drunkard (sorry, but

I am a writer too), I can recite them.

Then, badly dressed and smelling to

smoke (another vicious), I got my pur-

pose.

T o

honor that day, I leave here the begin-

ning of this fantastic poem and my

Homeric anecdote. If the anecdote is

true, it is yours who must say… But, re-

member, a writer is a liar.

H

Odysseyby Martin Cid

The Genius of Alexander, byElisabeth Vigée-Lebrun, gift of her

to the Hermitage in 1814

A writer is a liar

LiteratureYAREAHMagazine

ell me, O muse, of thatell me, O muse, of thatingenious hero who traingenious hero who tra --

velled far and wide after hevelled far and wide after hehad sacked the famoushad sacked the famoustown of Troy. town of Troy. Many cities did he

visit, and many were the nations with

whose manners and customs he was

acquainted; moreover he suffered

much by sea while trying to save his

own life and bring his men safely

home; but do what he might he could

not save his men, for they perished

through their own sheer folly in eating

the cattle of the Sun-god Hyperion; so

the god prevented them from ever re-

aching home. Tell me, too, about all

these things, O daughter of Jove, from

whatsoever source you may know

them.

So now all who escaped death in battle

or by shipwreck had got safely home

except Ulysses, and he, though he was

longing to return to his wife and

country, was detained by the goddess

Calypso, who had got him into a large

cave and wanted to marry him. But as

years went by, there came a time when

the gods settled that he should go

back to Ithaca; even then, however,

when he was among his own people,

his troubles were not yet over; never-

theless all the gods had now begun to

pity him except Neptune, who still

persecuted him without ceasing and

would not let him get home.

Now Neptune had gone off to the

Ethiopians, who are at the world's end,

and lie in two halves, the one looking

West and the other East. He had gone

there to accept a hecatomb of

sheep and oxen, and was enjo-

ying himself at his festival; but the

other gods met in the house of Olym-

pian Jove, and the sire of gods and

men spoke first. At that moment he

was thinking of Aegisthus, who had

been killed by Agamemnon's son

Orestes; so he said to the other gods:

"See now, how men lay blame upon us

gods for what is after all nothing but

their own folly. Look at Aegisthus; he

m u s t

needs make

love to Agamemnon's wife unrighte-

ously and then kill Agamemnon,

though he knew it would be the death

of him; for I sent Mercury to warn

him not to do either of these things,

inasmuch as Orestes would be sure to

take his revenge when he grew up and

wanted to return home....

T

OdysseyTranslated by Samuel Butler

Jeremiah, by Michelangelo,Sistine Chapel

by Homer, 800 B.C.E.

LiteratureYAREAHMagazine

or Western art and liteor Western art and lite --

rature, The Metamorrature, The Metamor--

phoses by Ovid (Publiusphoses by Ovid (Publius

Ovidius Naso, 43 BC –Ovidius Naso, 43 BC –

18AD) is one of the best clas18AD) is one of the best clas--

sical sources. It is a poem ofsical sources. It is a poem of

250 myths which has inspired250 myths which has inspired

Dante, Brueghel, Bernini,Dante, Brueghel, Bernini,

Shakespeare, Rubens andShakespeare, Rubens and

Kafka. Kafka. Although the majority of the myths

that Ovid related are much older than

his poem (for example, the famous

story of Daedalus and Icarus in Book

8 has been found on 6th century BP

vases), it was his poem which popula-

rized them for ever. We must not forget

that he was the most popular writer in

his time, much more than Virgil, and a

graffiti about Ovid has been found on

the walls of Pompeii.

In the first verses, Ovid maintains to be

writing one continuous poem, not an

anthology of myths. For this reason

and in spite of several anachronisms,

the poem has chronological progres-

sion: it begins with the story of crea-

tion and finishes with Augustus on the

throne. Furthermore, Ovid’s central

idea is always the same: nothing is per-

manent. This principle is much more

important than the own metamorpho-

sis and some stories only try metamor-

phoses as an incidental element.

We could see

the organization of the poem as a first

part (books 1-2) where gods act like

humans, a second part (books 3-6)

where mankind suffers a cause of gods,

a third part (books 6-11) where man-

kind is suffering a cause of themselves

and a forth part where humans become

gods. The introduction is the History

of the Creation.

F

The

Metamor-

phoses, by

Ovid

Prometheus,by Rubens, 1611

Ovid, From Rome

to Eternity

LiteratureYAREAHMagazine

he Golden Age

was first foun-

ded, which, wi-

thout any avenger, of

its own accord, wi-

thout laws, practised

both faith and recti-

tude. Punishment,

and the fear of it, did

not exist, and threate-

ning decrees were not

read upon the brazen

tables, fixed up to

view, nor yet did the

suppliant multitude

dread the counte-

nance of its judge;

but all were in safety

without any avenger.

The pine-tree, cut

from its native moun-

tains, had not yet des-

cended to the flowing

waves, that it might

visit a foreign region;

and mortals were ac-

quainted with no sho-

res beyond their own.

Not as yet did deep

ditches surround the

towns; no trumpets

of straightened, or

clarions of crooked

brass, no helmets, no swords then exis-

ted. Without occasion for soldiers, the

minds of men, free from care, enjoyed

an easy tranquillity.

The Earth itself, too, in freedom, un-

touched by the ha-

rrow, and wounded by no ploughsha-

res, of its own accord produced

everything; and men, contented with

the food created under no compulsion,

gathered the

fruit of the ar-

bute-tree, and

the strawbe-

rries of the

mountain, and

cornels, and

b lackber r i e s

adhering to the

prickly bram-

ble-bushes, and

acorns which

had fallen from

the wide-sprea-

ding tree of

Jove. Then it

was an eternal

spring; and the

gentle Zephyrs,

with their soo-

thing breezes,

cherished the

flowers produ-

ced without

any seed. Soon,

too, the Earth

u n p l o u g h e d

yielded crops

of grain, and

the land, wi-

thout being re-

newed, was

whitened with

the heavy ears of corn.

Then, rivers of milk, then, rivers of

nectar were flowing, and the yellow

honey was distilled from the green

holm oak.

T

The formation of man is followed by a succession of the four ages of the world. The firstThe formation of man is followed by a succession of the four ages of the world. The firstis the Golden Age, during which Innocence and Justice alone govern the world.is the Golden Age, during which Innocence and Justice alone govern the world.

Fable IIITranslated by : Henry Thomas Riley

Trees Newburgh, NewYork, by Asher B. Duran, 1849

LiteratureYAREAHMagazine

ere, the preface of ‘Theere, the preface of ‘The

Picture of Dorian Gray’Picture of Dorian Gray’

by Oscar Wilde. A declarationby Oscar Wilde. A declaration

of what is Art, or maybe Artsof what is Art, or maybe Arts

because Wild uses this wordbecause Wild uses this word

in the Latin sense, and Artin the Latin sense, and Art

(with capital letter) includes(with capital letter) includes

Music, Literature, DramatizaMusic, Literature, Dramatiza--

tion and Plastic expressions.tion and Plastic expressions.‘An ethical sympathy in an artist is an

unpardonable mannerism of style. No

artist is ever morbid. The artist can ex-

press everything.’ Wilde says and, yes,

Art must be away from worldly

Concerns since Art is looking for hid-

den worlds, authentic for the life of any

person though not material or practi-

cal.

‘We can forgive a man for making a

useful thing as long as he does not ad-

mire it.’ Wilde keeps on saying and, yes,

what we must admire in artists is the in-

tention (sometimes superhuman) of

dialoguing with gods trying to unders-

tand the real questions: Why are we in

this world? What is the limit of good

and evil? Or, even, does that limit exist?

‘The Picture of Dorian Gray’ is an at-

tempt to see our two sides and to dare

to cross the mirror of our instincts

and, then, to reach our primitive ori-

gins, at the time that man was born:

why and for what? The question re-

mains in the air, it is the same question

that religion or philosophy try to ans-

wer but, in my opinion, Art is in a bet-

ter to answer because it is neither

dogmatic nor forget the feelings.

My religion is Art, my philosophy is Art

and Art my mirror: the mirror of Do-

rian Gray.

H

No Artist is Ever

MorbidBy Isabel del Rio

Saint Bartholomew, by Miche-langelo Buonarroti, 1534-1541

LiteratureYAREAHMagazine

he artist is the creatorhe artist is the creator

of beautiful things. of beautiful things.

To reveal art and conceal theTo reveal art and conceal the

artist is art's aim.artist is art's aim.

The critic is he who canThe critic is he who can

translate into another mannertranslate into another manner

or a new material his impresor a new material his impres--

sion of beautiful things.sion of beautiful things.The highest as the lowest form of cri-

ticism is a mode of autobiography.

Those who find ugly meanings in be-

autiful things are corrupt without being

charming.

This is a fault.

Those who find beautiful meanings in

beautiful things are the cultivated. For

these there is hope.

They are the elect to whom beautiful

things mean only beauty.

There is no such thing as a moral or an

immoral book. Books are well written,

or badly written.

That is all.

The nineteenth century dislike of rea-

lism is the rage of Caliban seeing his

own face in a glass.

The nineteenth century dislike of ro-

manticism is the rage of Caliban not

seeing his own face in a glass.

The moral life of man forms part of

the subject-matter of the artist, but the

morality of art consists in the perfect

use of an imperfect medium. No artist

desires to prove anything. Even things

that are true can be proved.

No artist has ethical sympathies.

An ethical sympathy in an artist is an

unpardonable mannerism of style. No

artist is ever morbid. The artist can ex-

press everything.

Thought and language are to the artist

instruments of an art.

Vice and virtue are to the artist mate-

rials for an art.

From the point of view of form, the

type of all the arts is the art of the

musician.

From the point of view of fee-

ling, the actor's craft is the type.

All art is at once surface and

symbol.

Those who go beneath the

surface do so at their

peril.

Those who read

the symbol do so

at their peril.

It is the specta-

tor, and not life,

that art really

mirrors.

Diversity of

opinion about

a work of

art shows

that the

work is new,

c o m p l e x ,

and vital.

When critics

disagree, the

artist is in accord

with himself.

We can forgive a

man for making a

useful thing as long as he does not ad-

mire it. The only excuse for making a

useless thing is that one admires it in-

tensely.

T

Preface

The Picture of Dorian Grayby Oscar Wilde, 1890

Literature

nce upon a midnight dreary, while I

pondered weak and weary,

Over many a quaint and curious volume of

forgotten lore,

While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly

there came a tapping,

As of some one gently rapping, rapping at

my chamber door.

`'Tis some visitor,' I muttered, `tapping at

my chamber door -

Only this, and nothing more.'

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak

December,

And each separate dying ember wrought its

ghost upon the floor.

Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly I had sought to bo-

rrow

From my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost

Lenore -

For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels named

Lenore -

Nameless here for ever-

more.

And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain

Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never felt be-

fore;

O

YAREAHMagazine

The Raven is the most famous poem by Edgar Allan Poe. Its publication was difficult (all inThe Raven is the most famous poem by Edgar Allan Poe. Its publication was difficult (all in

Poe’s life was a thorny path). Critics accused him of using an incorrect English, good menPoe’s life was a thorny path). Critics accused him of using an incorrect English, good men

of choosing a sordid subject, and good women did not accused him because they did notof choosing a sordid subject, and good women did not accused him because they did not

read his poems. However, this rhythmical poem has been a source of inspiration for futureread his poems. However, this rhythmical poem has been a source of inspiration for future

writers and its gothic atmosphere has deleted young generations. Of course, The Raven iswriters and its gothic atmosphere has deleted young generations. Of course, The Raven is

one of the Seven Lucky Texts that we choose for this new issue of Yareah Magazine: ‘Sevenone of the Seven Lucky Texts that we choose for this new issue of Yareah Magazine: ‘Seven

to Seven’.to Seven’.

Edgar Allan Poe:

a Thorny Path

The RavenFirst published in 1845

Winter landscape with abird, by Bruegel the Elder, 1565

LiteratureYAREAHMagazine

So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood

repeating

`'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my

chamber door -

Some late visitor entreating entrance at

my chamber door; -

This it is, and nothing more,'

Presently my soul grew stronger;

hesitating then no longer,

`Sir,' said I, `or Madam, truly

your forgiveness I implore;

But the fact is I was napping,

and so gently you came rap-

ping,

And so faintly you came tap-

ping, tapping at my chamber

door,

That I scarce was sure I heard

you' - here I opened wide the

door; -

Darkness there, and nothing

more.

Deep into that darkness peering, long

I stood there wondering, fearing,

Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal

ever dared to dream before;

But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness

gave no token,

And the only word there spoken was the whispered word,

`Lenore!'

This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word,

`Lenore!'

Merely this and nothing more.

Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me bur-

ning,

Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.

`Surely,' said I, `surely that is something at my window lat-

tice;

Let me see then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore -

Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; -

'Tis the wind and nothing more!'

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and

flutter,

In there stepped a stately raven of the

saintly days of yore.

Not the least obeisance made

he; not a minute stopped or

stayed he;

But, with mien of lord or

lady, perched above my

chamber door -

Perched upon a bust

of Pallas just above

my chamber door -

Perched, and sat, and

nothing more.

Then this ebony bird

beguiling my sad

fancy into smiling,

By the grave and

stern decorum of the

countenance it wore,

`Though thy crest be

shorn and shaven, thou,'

I said, `art sure no craven.

Ghastly grim and ancient

raven wandering from the

nightly shore -

Tell me what thy lordly name is on

the Night's Plutonian shore!'

Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so

plainly,

Though its answer little meaning - little relevancy bore;

For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being

Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber

door -

Bird or beast above the sculptured bust above his chamber

door,

With such name as `Nevermore.'

But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only,

That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did out-

pour.

Nothing further then he uttered - not a feather then he flut-

tered -

Literature

Till I scarcely more than muttered `Other friends have flown

before -

On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown

before.'

Then the bird said, `Nevermore.'

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,

`Doubtless,' said I, `what it utters is its only stock and store,

Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful di-

saster

Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden

bore -

Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore

Of "Never-nevermore."'

But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,

Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust

and door;

Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking

Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore

-

What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird

of yore

Meant in croaking `Nevermore.'

This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing

To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's

core;

This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining

On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated

o'er,

But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating

o'er,

She shall press, ah, nevermore!

Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an

unseen censer

Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted

floor.

`Wretch,' I cried, `thy God hath lent thee - by these angels

he has sent thee

Respite - respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Le-

nore!

Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Le-

nore!'

Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

`Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or

devil! -

Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here

ashore,

Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted -

On this home by horror haunted - tell me truly, I implore -

Is there - is there balm in Gilead? - tell me - tell me, I im-

plore!'

Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

`Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or

devil!

By that Heaven that bends above us - by that God we both

adore -

Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,

It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels named Le-

nore -

Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels named

Lenore?'

Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

`Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!' I shrieked

upstarting -

`Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian

shore!

Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath

spoken!

Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit the bust above my

door!

Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from

off my door!'

Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting

On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;

And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dre-

aming,

And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow

on the floor;

And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the

floor

Shall be lifted - nevermore!

YAREAHMagazine

Michelangelo, Sistine Chapel

LiteratureYAREAHMagazine

e know very little aboute know very little about

the greatest writer ofthe greatest writer of

England. He was born inEngland. He was born in

Stratford-upon-Avon in 1564Stratford-upon-Avon in 1564

and died in 1616 after writingand died in 1616 after writing

37 plays and 154 sonnets and37 plays and 154 sonnets and

being the most successful plabeing the most successful pla--

yer in London. His father wasyer in London. His father was

a glove-merchant, unable toa glove-merchant, unable to

read or write, and his motherread or write, and his mother

a religious woman but unedua religious woman but unedu--

cated.cated.His friend Ben Jonson claimed that

Shakespeare knew very little about clas-

sical languages because he had a basic

education. His daughter Judith signed

with a cross and his daughter Susanna

can sign but cannot write a letter. We

have only six signs of Shakespeare in

four different documents, the signs are

not of the same hand and experts

argue that his lawyers were who signed

these documents by him and –what it

is worst- we do not have any manus-

cript by him and the list of his posses-

sions included on his will do not say

anything about he had an only book.

However, his works show spread kno-

wledge of classical and modern langua-

ges, of weapons and ships, of medicine

and laws, of courtesan life and mytho-

logy, of holly history and geography…

If John Milton was able of using eight

thousand words (a well-read person

uses four thousand), William Shakespe-

are managed more than twenty thou-

sand and most of them were Italian,

French or Spanish terms, and if Jack

London or Stevenson could speak

about shipwrecks due to their trips, Wi-

lliam Shakespeare speaks of them with

the same precision but without doing

an only trip on ship.

Very many investigators ask if William

Shakespeare was the simple actor born

in Stratford-upon-Avon that we sup-

pose or if William Shakespeare was

another person or even more than one:

his plays were published seven years

after his death and never before.

In these circumstances, there are very

many candidates to be Shakespeare:

Chistopher Marlowe; Francis Bacon;

Edward the Vere, 17th Earl of Oxford;

and even the Queen Elisabeth.

Precisely, it was her, Queen Elisabeth,

who was very interested in promoting

the English culture as a way of impro-

ving the English national feeling in a

time where England was a threaten

country, with very many internal and

external problems.

Yes, I can image her with a team of

writers planning the next famous play,

the same as today screen players do in

Hollywood.

Nothing new on the earth!!!

William Shakespeare’s tragedies:

Romeo and Juliet, Coriolanus, Titus

Andronicus, Timon of Athens, Julius

Caesar, Macbeth, Hamlet, Troilus and

Cressida, King Lear, Othello, Antony

and Cleopatra, and Cymbeline.

William Shakespeare’s histories: King

John, Richard II, Henry IV, Henry V,

Henry VI, Richard III and Henry VIII.

Main William Shakespeare’s comedies:

All's Well That Ends Well, As You Like

It, The Comedy of Errors, Love's La-

bour's Lost, Measure for Measure, The

Merchant of Venice, The Merry Wives

of Windsor , A Midsummer Night's

Dream, Much Ado About Nothing,

Pericles, Prince of Tyre, The Taming

of the Shrew, The Tempest, Twelfth

Night, The Two Gentlemen of Verona,

The Two Noble Kinsmen, The Winte-

W

Was William

Shakespeare a

brand? By Isabel del Rio

LiteratureYAREAHMagazine

o be, or not too be, or not to

be, that is thebe, that is the

question:question:

Whether 'tis NoblerWhether 'tis Nobler

in the mind to sufferin the mind to suffer

The Slings andThe Slings and

Arrows of outrageArrows of outrage --

ous Fortune,ous Fortune,

Or to take ArmsOr to take Arms

against a Sea of trouagainst a Sea of trou--

bles,bles,

And by opposing endAnd by opposing end

them: to die, to sleepthem: to die, to sleep

No more; and by aNo more; and by a

sleep, to say we endsleep, to say we endThe heart-ache, and theThe heart-ache, and the

thousand Natural shocksthousand Natural shocks

That Flesh is heir to? 'TisThat Flesh is heir to? 'Tis

a consummationa consummation

Devoutly to be wished.Devoutly to be wished.

To die to sleep,To die to sleep,

To sleep, perchance toTo sleep, perchance to

Dream; Ay, there's theDream; Ay, there's the

rub,rub,

For in that sleep ofFor in that sleep of

death, what dreams may come,death, what dreams may come,

When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,

Must give us pause. There's the respectMust give us pause. There's the respect

That makes Calamity of so long life:That makes Calamity of so long life:

For who would bear the Whips and Scorns of time,For who would bear the Whips and Scorns of time,

The Oppressor's wrong, the proud man's Contumely,The Oppressor's wrong, the proud man's Contumely,

The pangs of despised Love, the Law’s delay,The pangs of despised Love, the Law’s delay,

The insolence of Office, and the SpurnsThe insolence of Office, and the Spurns

That patient merit ofThat patient merit of

the unworthy takes,the unworthy takes,

When he himselfWhen he himself

might his Quietusmight his Quietus

makemake

With a bare Bodkin?With a bare Bodkin?

Who would FardelsWho would Fardels

bear,bear,

To grunt and sweatTo grunt and sweat

under a weary life,under a weary life,

But that the dread ofBut that the dread of

something aftersomething after

death,death,

The undiscoveredThe undiscovered

Country, from whoseCountry, from whose

bournbourn

No Traveller returns,No Traveller returns,

Puzzles the will,Puzzles the will,

And makes us ratherAnd makes us rather

bear those ills webear those ills we

have,have,

Than fly to othersThan fly to others

that we know not of.that we know not of.

Thus ConscienceThus Conscience

does make Cowardsdoes make Cowards

of us all,of us all,

And thus the NativeAnd thus the Native

hue of Resolutionhue of Resolution

Is sicklied o'er, with the pale cast of Thought,Is sicklied o'er, with the pale cast of Thought,

And enterprises of great pitch and moment,And enterprises of great pitch and moment,

With this regard their Currents turn awry,With this regard their Currents turn awry,

And lose the name of Action. Soft you now,And lose the name of Action. Soft you now,

The fair Ophelia? Nymph, in thy OrisonsThe fair Ophelia? Nymph, in thy Orisons

Be all my sins remembered.Be all my sins remembered.

T

To Be or Not to BeHamletby William Shakespeare, 1600

r's Tale.

‘To be, or not to be’ is the beginning of

a soliloquy from William Shakespeare's

play Hamlet (written about 1600), Act

III, Scene 1. It is the most famous

quote from the play and probably, in

world literature. However, there is di-

sagreement on its meaning, that is

good since a master piece must have

different levels of understanding… See

the yours!!

Venus at a Mirror, by Rubens, 1615

AARRTTSS//AARRTT EE

f we speak about thef we speak about the

seven best painters ofseven best painters of

the History, it would be easythe History, it would be easy

the selection. In a chronolothe selection. In a chronolo--

gical order we would name:gical order we would name:

Leonardo da Vinci, since heLeonardo da Vinci, since he

established the geometricalestablished the geometrical

perspective; Caravaggio andperspective; Caravaggio and

his perfect contrasts betweenhis perfect contrasts between

light and darkness; Velazquez’light and darkness; Velazquez’

magic atmosphere; Remmagic atmosphere; Rem--

brandt’s naturalism; Goya andbrandt’s naturalism; Goya and

his constantly seeking of newhis constantly seeking of new

themes and shapes; Picassothemes and shapes; Picasso

because he is the last classicbecause he is the last classic

painter, that one who takespainter, that one who takes

up the old tradition in theup the old tradition in the

best possible synthesis; andbest possible synthesis; and

Rothko (yes, I know this lastRothko (yes, I know this last

election is questionable) butelection is questionable) but

the difficult way of the absthe difficult way of the abs--

traction that Kandinsky startraction that Kandinsky star--

ted reaches the top with him.ted reaches the top with him.However, this issue of Yareah maga-

zine (19) is not dedicated to the Seven

Best Painters but to the Seven Painters

who has had Luck on their brush… or

maybe in their smile… or in the lucky

inheritance that we have received of

them: the election is now complicate

but that does not scare us because Art

is not a silly knowledge.

To me, a lucky painter was Rubens, a

happy per-

son and

successful

artist who

run a big

studio in

Antwerp.

He painted

to nobility,

priests and

art collec-

t o r s

t h r o u g -

hout Eu-

rope and

he was a

humanist

s c h o l a r

and diplo-

mat. He

was knigh-

ted by Phi-

lip IV,

King of

Spain, and

Charles I,

King of England, while made love with

his beautiful last wife, Hélène Four-

ment (she inspired the voluptuous fi-

gures of The Three Graces). However,

Rubens is not the painter who gives me

luck but The Greek (Domenico Theo-

tocopuli), a painter and architect of the

Spanish Renaissance.

The Greek’ has been present in very

many nice events of my life and his ex-

pressionist full-color paintings have

gladde-

ned my

days for my childhood, when I spent

some wonderful summers in a house

near the Mediterranean Sea, with a li-

ving room decorated with copies of his

works.

Yareah magazine has its lucky painter

too and she is Sabela Baña (no doubt),

a current Spanish abstract artist who

has accompanied this magazine from

I

YAREAHMagazine

7 Painters of

Luck By Isabel del Rio

Michelangelo painted byGiulio Bonasone, 1546

the very beginning,

with her texts and

geometrical com-

positions of perso-

nal colors.

And how about

Michelangelo Buo-

narroti? Well, his

life was painful

(day and night qua-

rreling with that

stingy Pope called

Julius II) but it is

impossible do not

admire his frescos,

charcoals or sculp-

tures (think of his

David) without fe-

eling the greatness

of the human

being and pride in

belonging to its

History.

The same happens

with Elisabeth

Vigée-Lebrun, fa-

vorite artist (and

friend) of the

queen Maria An-

toinette. She suffe-

red threats and

harassment after

the queen was gui-

llotined but far

from the Revolu-

tionary France, she

triumphed again

and she has left us

the most beautiful portraits of the Rus-

sian, German and England society, all

of them different, all unique.

Now, we have five lucky painters but

we need seven, since seven is the lucky

number. Last night, when I was prepa-

ring this article and thinking about

what I would say, I was in a bar with

some other members of the ma-

gazine team, all of them very fond of

talking and laughing in the pubs or in

the old typical taverns. I asked them

and Martin Cid, our editor, said quickly:

‘Bruegel. To me, a lucky painter is Pie-

ter Bruegel, the Elder, since he has

painted the most perfect taverns that a

person can imagine in its sweetest dre-

ams.’ ‘I

agree,’ our

partner Zara

claimed, ‘he

is the most

suitable artist

to feel like

eating, dan-

cing, drin-

king… and

other lucky

actions. He

should be

one of our

lucky pain-

ters of this

month.’

T h e r e f o r e

the joy of li-

ving was the

main reason

for them to

choose and

artist and fo-

llowing this

thought, the

name of

Asher B.

Duran grew

rapidly. He

was an Ame-

rican painter

from the

19th century

who praised

Nature and

mankind as a

part of it. It is

sure that an artist so hopeful in our fu-

ture must give good luck.

Then, we have the Seven Lucky Pain-

ters of this issue, those Seven who will

illustrate our text and pages, those

Seven who will accompany us in this

difficult way of thinking about Litera-

ture and Art.

YAREAHMagazine

Self Portrait by PeterPaul Rubens 1623

AARRTTSS

AARRTTSS//AARRTT EE

uestion – Was your cauestion – Was your ca --

reer so complicated andreer so complicated and

exhausting as to engraveexhausting as to engrave

on your tombstone "I rest aton your tombstone "I rest at

last”? last”? Vigee-Lebrun - Yes, no doubt. My fa-

ther, who was also a painter, died when

I was 12 and my family was in a preca-

rious economic situation. My mother,

who was a woman of extraordinary be-

auty, remarried to resolve the situation

but I, as I had a great affection for the

memory of my father, I decided to fo-

llow his footsteps and to become inde-

pendent, to honor his devotion to the

art and as a small act of rebellion

against a stepfather who I never finis-

hed to admit.

At 16, I already had my own workshop

in Paris. Then, everything was rather

chaotic and I was involved in one of

the most turbulent periods in history:

the French Revolution of 1789. It was

a social and cultural change and I was

forced to live struggles, wars, an exile

and ... even a divorce!

Question - What do you mean by

"even a divorce"? Do you blame to the

terrible events in 1791, which led king

Louis XVI to the guillotine, of the cri-

sis of your marriage?

I married Pierre in 1776 and now, I

guess I ought to remain free to develop

my work but then, I was an ambitious

young woman who wanted to be inter-

nationally known as the best portrait

painter of the moment. However, lo-

neliness eats into my soul and I chan-

ged my plans. The early years of

marriage were good, we travelled a lot

and that helped me to develop my

painting. The trip we made to the Ne-

therlands, for example, it was crucial

for me because I studied in depth the

work of the Flemish school. In addi-

tion, my daughter Julia was born. Af-

terwards, our relations cooled, partly

because my pace of work. Everyone

wanted a Vigee-Lebrun portrait and I

have three daily sessions of customers

posing for me. My health deteriorated

and the digestions were bad because of

nervousness: Pierre and I hardly met.

We could have taken the lives of so

many distant bourgeois couples, but

when they killed the king and the

queen, my protector, was imprisoned,

I suffered harassment and attacks. Pie-

rre was frightened and he did not pro-

tect me or accompanied me in exile.

Alone, I ran away with my daughter.

Question - In any case, Pierre, an art

dealer, helped you in your beginnings.

Was your profession a factor to consi-

der when you accepted him as hus-

band?

Vigee-Lebrun - Absolutely not. His

profession damaged the mien. When I

became a member of the Academy of

Arts in France, I had many opponents.

Not because of the quality of my work

(as it has been repeated later) or for

being a woman (the Academy already

had other feminine members) but by

the profession of my husband. They

did not like a person who negotiated

with what they consider non-negotia-

ble: Art.

Question - What was Queen Marie An-

toinette of France like?

Q

YAREAHMagazine

Interview with Rococo

painter Elisabeth

Vigee-Lebrun By Isabel del Rio

Elisabeth Vigee-Lebrun is famous worldwide for having been the painter of Queen MarieElisabeth Vigee-Lebrun is famous worldwide for having been the painter of Queen Marie

Antoinette of France. She was buried in Louveciennes on March 30, 1842, under a tombstoneAntoinette of France. She was buried in Louveciennes on March 30, 1842, under a tombstone

where she had ordered to engrave "I rest at last". Today, after so long and thanks to the efwhere she had ordered to engrave "I rest at last". Today, after so long and thanks to the ef --

forts made by the team of "The Girls of Oil", she has temporarily returned from retirementforts made by the team of "The Girls of Oil", she has temporarily returned from retirement

and she has granted an exclusive interview to talk about the lights and shadows of her busyand she has granted an exclusive interview to talk about the lights and shadows of her busy

life. life.

Vigee-Lebrun - A remarka-

ble lady and very well prepa-

red. On the contrary to the

superficial and frivolous

image that the "children of

the revolution" have passed.

But, of course, they had to

lie to justify her murder. The

queen promoted many talen-

ted feminine artists, a gene-

ration of women who fell

into obscurity after 1789.

French Revolution Equality

meant that women were also

guillotined, nothing more.

Question - What about the

exile? Those years were ar-

tistically positive, you even

painted Byron, the Romantic

poet.

Vigee-Lebrun - Yes, a whole

character Lord Byron. I pain-

ted very many important pe-

ople, also the Russian royal

family. I saw beautiful places

and I met clever people but

they were sad years away

from home too. I longed for

Paris.

Question - But you came

back, and by popular ac-

claim. How did you find the

Paris of Napoleon?

Vigee-Lebrun - I did not like.

Napoleon and his cronies

treated me with respect and or-

ders continued but the world was up-

side down. I count these "before and

after" in my autobiography published

in 1835. I recommend it to anyone

who wants to know how an artist lived

before and after those murderers, ca-

lled ‘sans culottes’, broke into history.

Question - It is clear that you do not

have very good opinion of them. Were

you able to forgive over the years?

Vigee-Lebrun- I am

Catholic but I remember them with

horror. They killed my friends and ac-

quaintances. I do not know why cu-

rrent people admire that revolution so

much. Equality was a complete fiction.

Isabel del Rio explains very well all

those historical falsehoods in her book

"The Girls of Oil, women painters and

sculptors before 1789" and she has

been kind enough to include a cover

page with a picture of

mine: my “Self-Portrait with Straw

Hat”.

And so, Elisabeth Vigee-Lebrun said

goodbye, with Rococo courtesy, pride

of having been one of the greatest

painters of old times. It was a placid

afternoon in Paris ... a Lebrun after-

noon.

YAREAH AARRTTSS

Self Portrait by ElisabethVigée-Lebrun,1790

Magazine

YAREAHMagazineIssue 20. January 2012

MurilloMark Twain