Those who don’t learn from the lessons of history are doomed to repeat them

An email from the Sorbonne (Paris).

I am fresh pressing or reposting or whatever the above from a blogger I follow who I consider to be a fellow old fart (sorry!).  Her vintage is 1956.  Note the comment from vivachange1957.  I am vintage 1955 so I guess many of us old farts like to hang together!?

This action is a backhanded through truly meant compliment and mazel tov to this lovely lady/mature student as well as an appreciation of some more fine and thought-provoking poetry that emerged from a terrible historical event, in this case WWI.  Many of the literary gems that emerged from WWI are based on first-hand accounts of the horrors from which these authors emerged.  I have noticed that some recent best-sellers have the same source material, though these soldier-authors are seeing the same casualties of war on turf that is farther from home i.e. Afghanistan, Iraq, Syria, parts of Africa.

If only some of the Muslim terrorists, or at least the varying Muslim factions or other radical religious or sectarian warriors, would look more closely at the devastation they leave behind, instead of expecting heavenly rewards or more power or whatever “reasons” they’re giving themselves for leaving all this pain behind, maybe it would humanize them enough to stop it!  If they would put themselves in the shoes of the survivors of this devastation, and learn these lessons of history, maybe they would see how futile their actions are!?

I will try to revert to more humorous entries for this weekly feature in the near future.  By way of excuse and apology, I am almost finished with the second WWII-based book being read and discussed in the last several months by my Fiction Book Club, and I also recently saw “Unbroken” after completing that book.  From these sources I learned that, amazingly and unfortunately, peoples from entirely different cultures and on opposite sides of the globe, committed the same types of atrocities against their fellow human beings, and it just made me sad.

A Room With a View (or Just a View)

Where shall I go? What shall I do?
If I could zoom, where would I go?

Maybe I would go to that room where I could find Scarlett, Rhett and a cast of thousands.
That room might be a good old fashioned library, filled with books and only books
Just books of all titles and sizes, subjects and authors, old and new, true and not.
I picture the library in one of those films that I watch over and over again.
That’s “Ever After” with a young Drew Barrymore and a young Dougray Scott –
So young that the movie makers were not afraid to give us a hint of the young man’s manhood in his white tights and codpiece!
There’s a spiral staircase in a many-windowed tower where all the walls are bookcases
That’s light and bright
With inviting nooks in which to sit and read and includes one of those great and precarious ladders that slides across the tall bookshelves

Come to think of it, maybe I would go to that other room where I could find Scarlett, Rhett and a cast of thousands
Any, preferably, old movie theater would likely do.
There is only one snack bar. It’s on the ground floor along with restrooms that are fabulous architectural monuments unto themselves.
All accessories are heavy and ornate, especially in the screening area.
Like the old and now demolished Carthay Circle theatre in Los Angeles, where my dear and now departed Dad took me to see Gone With the Wind for the very first time.
I miss them both.

carthay circle exteriorcarthay circle interior