Waldo nodded and waved goodbye pathetically, like a young father going off to war. As soon as the door was closed and he was gone, Jeanne squelched her own apprehensions, opened the paper and read the poem Waldo had written for her: One taste of Jeanne and out I flew Wildly, madly, in no direction But hers, and yet so straight and true I fly towards her with no protection It feels so strange to move this way Though I should land, desire it seems Moves in strange circles and so I stay Disoriented beyond my wildest dreams.
Like Sylvia Plath, Natalie Jeanne Champagne invites you so close to the pain and agony of her life of mental illness and addiction, which leaves you gasping from shock and laughing moments later: this is both the beauty and unique nature of her storytelling. With brilliance and courage, the author's brave and candid chronicle travels where no other memoir about mental illness and addiction has gone before. The Third Sunrise is an incredible triumph and Natalie Jeanne Champagne is without a doubt the most important new voice in this genre.
Why is it a shame for me to cause them to die and try to exterminate them, tell me? You did not talk that way when you used to come to my house in Jeanne-d'Arc street. Ah! it is a shame! You have not done as much, with your cross of honor! I deserve more merit than you, do you understand, more than you, for I have killed more Prussians than you!
Guy de Maupassant
On their own, each [character] is a victim of no importance. But when you bring them together, they become a dangerous weapon. Jeanne is the vowel and Sophie the consonant. Psychologists know this phenomenon well. Each individual is harmless, but together they create an explosive chemical reaction. It's like Bonnie and Clyde, like Thelma and Louise.
There is a moment in our healing journey when our denial crumbles; we realize our experience and it's continued effects on us won't "just go away". That's our breakthrough moment. It's the sun coming out to warm the seeds of hope so they can grow our personal garden of empowerment ~ Jeanne McElvaney
Jeanne's sisters thought nothing of themselves... Helen stayed up late in Brookline, baking. Lemon squares, and brownies, pecan bars, apple cake, sandy almond cookies. Alone in her kitchen, she wrapped these offerings in waxed paper and froze them in tight-lipped containers... Helen was the baker of the family. What she felt could not be purchased. She grieved from scratch.
Rest in Peace?' Why that phrase? That's the most ridiculous phrase I've ever heard! You die, and they say 'Rest in Peace!' ... Why would one need to 'rest' when they're dead?! I spent thousands of years of world history resting. While Agamemnon was leading his ships to Troy, I was resting. While Ovid was seducing women at the chariot races, I was resting. While Jeanne d'Arc was hallucinating, I was resting. I wait until airplanes are scuttling across the sky to burst out onto the scene, and I'm only going to be here for a short while, so when I die, I certainly won't need to rest again! Not while more adventures of the same kind are going on.
Why do you want to do this?" he asked curiously. "Why is this woman so important to you?" Saint-Germain blinked in surprise. "Have you ever loved anyone?" he asked. "Yes, " Tamnuz said cautiously, "I had a consort once, Inanna... " "But did you love her? Truly love her?" The Green Man remained silent. "Did she mean more to you than life itself?" Saint-Germain persisted. "They do not love that do not show their love, " Shakespeare murmured very softly. The French immortal stepped closer to the Elder. "I love my Jeanne, " he said simply. "I must go to her." "Even though it will cost you everything?" Tamnuz persisted, as if the idea was incomprehensible. "Yes. Without Joan, everything I have is worthless." "Even your immortality?" "Especially my immortality." Gone were the banter and the jokes. This was a Saint-Germain whom neither Shakespeare nor Palamedes had ever seen before. "I love her, " he said,
The United States is primarily a guilt-based culture. The dominant method of social control in this country involves teaching people to feel guilt about not living up to personal expectations. Contrast this with shame-based cultures like Japan. As researchers Ying Wong and Jeanne Tsai explain in their paper, Cultural Models of Shame and Guilt, shame is 'associated with the fear of exposing one's defective self to others. Guilt, on the other hand, is associated with the fear of not living up to one's own standards.' In this formulation, guilt is based on failing to achieve personal ideals; shame is based on social exposure ["The Anti-Vaccine Movement Should Be Ridiculed, Because Shame Works, " Gizmodo, February 6, 2015].
The French fairy tale writers were so popular and prolific that when their stories were eventually collected in the 18th century, they filled forty-one volumes of a massive publication called the Cabinet des Fees. Charles Perrault is the French fairy tale writer whom history has singled out for attention, but the majority of tales in the Cabinet des Fees were penned by women writers who ran and attended the leading salons: Marie-Catherine d'Aulnoy, Henriette Julie de Murat, Marie-Jeanne L'Heritier, and numerous others. These were educated women with an unusual degree of social and artistic independence, and within their use of the fairy tale form one can find distinctly subversive, even feminist subtext.