The Heaven (Le Ciel) and Hell (l’Enfer) cabarets of
Montmartre, Paris. 1880s.
In the 1899 book Bohemian Paris of To-Day by William Chambers Morrow and Édouard Cucuel, the authors visit several of the City of Lights darker drinking destinations and describes l’Enfer thusly:
“Enter and be damned, the Evil One awaits you!“ growled a chorus of rough voices as we hesitated before the scene confronting us. Near us was suspended a caldron over a fire, and hopping within it were half a dozen devil musicians, male and female, playing a selection from "Faust” on stringed instruments, while red imps stood by, prodding with red-hot irons those who lagged in their performance.
Crevices in the walls of this room ran with streams of molten gold and silver, and here and there were caverns lit up by smouldering fires from which thick smoke issued, and vapors emitting the odors of a volcano. Flames would suddenly burst from clefts in the rocks, and thunder rolled through the caverns. Red imps were everywhere, darting about noiselessly, some carrying beverages for the thirsty lost souls, others stirring the fires or turning somersaults. Everything was in a high state of motion.
And right next door to the Cabaret de l'Enfer was Cabaret du Ciel (“The Cabaret of the Sky”), a divinely themed bar where Dante and Father Time greeted visitors and comely ladies dressed as angels pranced around teasing patrons. As Morrow recalled, the evening’s entertainment was presided over by St. Peter himself, who anointed the boozy crowd:
Flitting about the room were many more angels, all in white robes and with sandals on their feet, and all wearing gauzy wings swaying from their shoulder-blades and brass halos above their yellow wigs. These were the waiters, the garcons of heaven, ready to take orders for drinks. One of these, with the face of a heavy villain in a melodrama and a beard a week old, roared unmelodiously, “The greetings of heaven to thee, brothers! Eternal bliss and happiness are for thee. Mayst thou never swerve from its golden paths! Breathe thou its sacred purity and renovating exaltation. Prepare to meet thy great Creator and don’t forget the garcon!”
Summary: It’s the night of the ceremony, but needless to say the night does not go as planned.
Word Count: 5,849
Reader getting her drank on, slightly self-destructive behavior
and quite a bit of tears, strong language, allusions to sex (nothing
explicit), DRAMA ™, testosterone, and angst, and a far too adorable Draco Malfoy
<br /><i>Via Flickr:</i>
<br />Count Feodor Petrovich Tolstoy was born into a noble family. In 1802, he graduated from the Naval Academy and entered the St. Petersburg Academy of Fine Arts. He was fond of drawing and painting, but his highest success was in wax modeling.
In 1810, he was appointed designer of medals in the St. Petersburg Mint. One of his more interesting works of the late 1810s is a series of 21 medallions devoted to the Russian-Napoleonic war of 1812-1814.
Feodor Tolstoy is also characterized as having versatile talents. In 1838, he wrote a ballet Aeol’s Flute, libretto, sketches of set designs and costumes and 60 sketches in which he denoted the choreography of the ballet. In 1828, he became vice-president of the St. Petersburg Academy, in 1842 - professor, in 1859 - the first assistant of the president. By the end of his life he began to go blind and had to stop painting.
“For the story of the Irish in America is a story of overcoming hardship through strength, and sacrifice, and faith, and family. It’s an idea central to Saint Patrick himself—faith in the unseen; a belief in something better around the bend.” —President Obama on St. Patrick’s Day