Steve Moretti's Blog, page 2

Redicovering Bob Marley in Aisle 10

His music is legendary and now you can even hear him at the grocery store I was introduced to the music of Bob Marley by my dorm mates at Carleton University in the Fall of 1976. One of them had just bought a copy of the Live! album recorded a year earlier (July, 1975) at the Lyceum Theatre in London. We fired up the massive speakers that one of my roommates used as part of a rock band he played in. We put the needle down on side two of the album which opens with ‘No Woman, No Cry.’ From the first notes on the electric organ, I was entranced with the song's emotional power, both vocally and instrumentally. It was hard not to feel like your were part of the audience, as the music swept across the spectators in the hazy, historic Westminster theatre. The effect was no doubt aided by the sound system in our tiny dorm room suite which could have filled the ballroom of over 2,000 swaying fans. From the Lyceum to the supermarket Fast forward to the 21st century and the ubiquitous nature of background music. A few months ago, while searching shelves of a grocery store for something vitally important like baking powder, I heard the live version of ‘No Woman, No Cry’ begin to play on the overhead speakers. I looked up and smiled for a moment, until I noticed that other shoppers were paying absolutely NO regard to the musical genius serenading them. It was just ‘musak’ to lessen the drudgery of searching for the right ketchup. Few shoppers probably realized that Rolling Stone ranked the live version of the song as No. 37 in the 500 greatest songs of all time. Cool. Now where do I find that new low-calorie Dijon mayonnaise in Aisle 10? I suppose maybe it is a great honour for Bob Marley’s music to be played like this. The Beatles and Michael Jackson weren’t far behind on the playlist, so he was in good company at least. Maybe the music of all greatest artists is destined for audio wallpaper, but Marely’s music still seemed out of place in the condiments' aisle. More than a music icon Hearing that song got me thinking about the Bob Marley and his history. That his music is still wildly popular, 34 years after his death is not in doubt. Legend, the Best of Bob Marley, is one of only two albums to remain in Billboard’s top 200 list for over 500 weeks. (The other is Dark Side of the Moon by Pink Floyd). Legend has sold more than 28 million copies since it’s 1984 release. ‘No Woman, No Cry’ has been covered by more than 50 artists from Pearl Jam to Joan Baez, and ‘One Love’ named song of the millennium by the World Health Organization. It may not be an exaggeration to call Marley one of the most revered musicians of all time. But the power of the music is also driven by his history and unshakeable belief in Rastafari as a force against oppression. His song ‘War’, was almost entirely drawn from a 1963 speech by Ethiopian Emperor Haile Selassie to the UN General Assembly. (Photo below) Marley and his band, the Wailers, turned the speech into musical poetry, that seems as relevant today as it did in the Sixties. The second paragraph of the speech started as follows: “That until the philosophy which holds one race superior and another inferior is finally and permanently discredited and abandoned…” “That until the philosophy which holds one race superior and another inferior is finally and permanently discredited and abandoned…” Marley used that, almost word for word in the song, adding only three words to the first line of the speech, “Everywhere is war.” While a few people outside of the UN heard the Selassie’s speech, millions more listened to it on the 1976 Rastaman Vibration album, which reached Top 10 in the USA and remains extremely popular to this day. Growing up in Jamaica Some have speculated that because Marley was born to a white father and an Afro-Jamaican mother, he experienced the prejudices accorded to someone of mixed race at that time in Jamaica. He moved to Trenchtown, Jamaica at the age of 12. He spent much of his youth in a “government yard” in Trenchtown - a social housing project with communal cooking and bathroom facilities. Here he learned about life in the slums, but also continued to explore music which he had started in primary and junior high school with Neville Livingston (Bunny Wailer in later years) and Peter Tosh. Marley had some initial musical success in Jamaica as early as 17, But it wasn’t until he married Rita Anderson at 21, that his spiritual and political conviction began to develop. His mother had moved to Delaware, USA a few years earlier in search of work, and he spent a short time there with her, working at a DuPont Lab and on the assembly line at Chrysler in Newark. The thought of an introverted Bob Marley in his early twenties, working on the assembly line at a car factory in New Jersey, seems ripe for deeper exploration. He had already recorded in Jamaica with with the Wailers and they even had a minor hit single. During his time in the United States, he dreamed about his recently deceased white father and a ring with a black jewel. His mother produced the same ring from his dreams, but he was uncomfortable wearing it and handed it back to her. He saw the dream and the ring as a test from God. What is more important?- possessions or spiritual fulfillment? He returned to Jamaica, and explained the dream to a Rasta elder and soon after converted to the Rastafari religion. He started to grow dreadlocks and focus on both his music and his spiritual journey. The two would become tightly intertwined for the rest of his life. He saw the dream and the ring as a test from God. What is more important - possessions or spiritual fulfillment? It was 1966 and he would be dead from brain cancer within fifteen years. During that time he became an international musical superstar, deeply touching millions around the world, particularly in Africa and the Caribbean. Rastafari
 - A short primer It’s not hard to understand how Marley would be drawn to Rastafari beliefs. The religion originated in in the 1930’s among impoverished Afro-Jamaicans, rebelling against British colonial rule, that saw them as 2nd class citizens, denying both political and economic equality to the majority. The Rastafari religion interpreted the Bible as holding the truth about black history and their place as God's chosen people. But it also placed emphasis on personal experience and intuition. They were vehement that their religion has no dogma and believed in a single God, ‘Jah’ not just as a deity, but also as living inside each one of us. "Marley wasn't singing about how peace could come easily to the World but rather how hell on Earth comes too easily to too many." And perhaps, most important to Marley, the Rastafari in Jamaica sought to create an identity based on reclaiming their lost African heritage. Suffering under slavery and colonial rule for centuries, this was a way to understand God on their own terms and in their own image. It was a way to restore hope and dignity that seemed all but lost for over 200 years. Marley embraced these ideas and raised the profile of the Rastafari around the world. The ideas were infused into his music, and his persona. Mikal Gilmore from Rolling Stone summed it up this way. "Marley wasn't singing about how peace could come easily to the World but rather how hell on Earth comes too easily to too many. His songs were his memories; he had lived with the wretched, he had seen the downpressers and those whom they pressed down.” Still in awe of the music Back at the grocery store, I cue up at the checkout, still thinking about Bob Marley. His effect on me was perhaps minor, compared to those of African heritage. But the power of his music is a force that I still regard with awe, even when I’m buying ketchup.

Santa Claus is buried in Italy

No, not the jolly old elf from 1930’s Coca-Cola magazine ads, but the real St. Nick himself. His bones and sarcophagus are held and revered in the lower level of a church in Southern Italy and attract hundreds of pilgrims and curious visitors every day. During my recent trip to Puglia, a beautiful olive and wine producing region that occupies the heel of the Italian peninsula, I came to understand how important St. Nicholas is to the people who live here. And as I learned more about him, it became clear that calling Santa ‘Saint Nick” makes sense. I got the short-hand version of the story while we were touring the Basilica di San Nicola in Bari with a friend who lives there and was actually married in the church. “A bunch of Baresi sailors snuck over and stole him from Turkey,” he told us, before moving on to rave about where to get the best focaccia in town. Since the focaccia in Bari is indeed heavenly when served hot from the oven, I was inclined to take his brief history of San Nicola as the gospel truth. But there is a little bit more to the story. The Bishop of Myra Nicholas was born to a rich family in the Lycian town of Myra around 270. It was an ancient Greek area that is now part of Turkey. There are few records of Nicholas' work as a Christian Bishop, but centuries later written accounts began to appear of astounding incidents during his lifetime. In one of the most retold stories, Nicholas rescued three girls who were to be sold into prostitution because their parents were too poor to arrange a dowry. He saved each girl by secretly dropping a sack of gold coins through their chimney and putting gold into a stocking that had been hung by the fireplace to dry. The father of the girls was indeed surprised when this happened two nights in a row and on the third night he wanted to find out who was behind these gifts. He waited up and discovered Nicholas dropping the gold into the last girls’ stocking. Nicholas, the Bishop of Myra, did not want attention given to what he had done, and begged the father not to reveal his secret. But soon word spread of what had happened, and later whenever someone received a secret gift, it was attributed to Nicholas. Other legends involved him calming a storm at sea, saving innocent soldiers form execution, chopping down a tree possessed by the devil and even resurrecting three murdered children pickled in brine by a butcher who was saving them to sell as pork during the next famine. During his lifetime Nicholas was imprisoned as part of the last persecution of Christians in the Roman empire. He also made an arduous pilgrimage to Egypt and Palestine and likely attended the first council of Nicaea in 325. This was the council of Christian Bishops convened by the Roman Emperor Constantine to reach consensus on a uniform Christian doctrine. After his death on December 6, 343 AD the stories of his generosity and the miracles he performed during this lifetime were told and retold. The legends surrounding him began to grow. So much so, that a church was built on the same site in Myra where Nicholas served as Bishop. His remains were placed within a sarcophagus in the church for eternity. Sailors adopted him as their patron saint, although he was also the patron of merchants, archers, repentant thieves, children, brewers, pawnbrokers and students. But it was mostly sailors who spread the stories of his secret gift giving and the miracles he performed during his life. They propagated a cult like following of St. Nicholas, worshiping him as a saint and he became one of the most loved figures in Christendom. His corpse, like that of other saints, was said to have mystical powers. Believers pointed to the bones of Nicholas and claimed not only did they not decay,but also that they exuded an oozing liquid called ‘manna’ or ‘myrrh’ which had a scent like a rose and possessed potent healing powers. Pilgrims flocked to his tomb in Myra. The Bari Connection And now we come to Bari in the sunny Spring of 1087. The city had been captured by a group of Normans who wanted to compete with Venice, which had stolen the bones of Saint Mark from Alexandria centuries earlier. News arrived that Myra had fallen to the Turks and was in disarray. And so began a scene that might make a good Indiana Jones sequel. It was time to put Bari on the map by stealing a saint for themselves. According to records kept by a Barise clerk at the time, three ships sailed from Bari to Myra and forty-seven well-armed Baresi invaded the church of Saint Nicholas, tied up the Monks protecting the tomb and smashed into Nicholas’ sarcophagus. According to the account, they "found his skeleton submerged in its manna and smelled a heavenly perfume wafting from the bones.” They snatched the whole sarcophagus and returned triumphantly to Bari in early May, 1087 to be celebrated as heroes. They became famous and received a percentage of the offerings given to the San Nicola each year. The Basilica di San Nicola was built to house the stolen remains. To this day it is a major pilgrimage site in Southern Italy. I visited the lower level of this church where St. Nicholas’ tomb is located and even after more than a millennium, his influence persists. There was an eerie, deeply spiritual sense and I would even say mystical feeling in the lower level of the church on the day I visited. How did St. Nicholas become Santa Clause? Through the ages St. Nicholas was associated with gift giving and miracles, especially on December 6, his feast day or the night before, the eve of St. Nicholas Day. In Northern Europe in the 16th Century, reverence towards saints was discouraged as part of the reformation and St. Nicholas took on a variety of other names, including Father Christmas and Kris Kringle. However his feast day on December 6 remained the day for Christmas gift giving. The Dutch took to calling him Sinterklass, which in English became Santa Claus. In the 1823 famous poem A Visit from St. Nicholas which all parents know started with ’Twas the Night before Christmas...’ became popular and restored interest in St. Nicholas. It was widely published with evolving artistic interpretations of of St. Nicholas. In Bari, the Festa di San Nicola is one of the grandest celebrations in Southern Italy, spanning the first ten days of May. It celebrates the arrival of his relics from Turkey. During the festival, an icon of San Nicola is paraded through the streets of Bari Vecchia (the old part of the city where the Basilica is located). The next day a statue of San Nicola is taken out to sea accompanied by a flotilla of boats. This is followed by a day of religious services, and after the last Mass there are fireworks and reveling long into the night. Bari is a long way from the North Pole. But it is the resting place for the man who helped define and inspire Santa Claus. And every now and then it even snows there.

Guys named James. An author's nightmare?

Well maybe nightmare is a little strong to describe my dilemma with guys named 'James'. Hey, it’s a great name - classic, noble, masculine, adaptable. But, when doing research for my novel, Song for a Lost Kingdom, it became the one name I dreaded to see in search results. And of course it kept appearing over and over again. I know readers can struggle to keep track of characters. To make it easier, each should have a unique voice and of course, a different name. Even two character names starting with the same letter can be confusing. So imagine my joy dealing with a hero and his nemesis that were both guys named James. And for good measure, the King at the heart of their conflict was also a guy named James. Who are these James? Here is a quick summary to the three main James in my books. And no offense to any James out there, but why are there so many of you? James Drummond, born in 1713, was a young Jacobite patriot more or less forced into fighting by his family, sacrificing his own promising future to follow in the tragic footsteps of his father, his grandfather, his great-grandfather and his great-great uncle - all of whom were named James Drummond. Great! James Drummond, 3rd Duke of Perth, longed to be a man of science, commerce and politics, which was rapidly evolving in Scotland in 1745. When he was only 18 he laid out Perth’s central square and established a textile industry with a flax factory. Despite his accomplishments, he was drawn into the same battles that had consumed his family for the last two centuries. His mother, Lady Jean, likely had the biggest influence. She told him if he did not fight like the other Scottish Clan chiefs to restore the royal House of Stuart, she would bestow a curse that would “blight him and his posterity for eternity.” Thanks, Mom. Sir James Carnegie, born in 1716, was a Scottish MP and a Captain in the British army with a serious disdain for his extended family. Unlike James Drummond who's clan had a long history of supporting Scottish royalty and opposing union with England, Sir James spent his life in service to the British empire, motivated in part by revenge against the ‘wrongs’ done to him by his family and their support for the Scottish throne. When he was just 13 years old, he succeeded his father as baronet. A year later his cousin, the 5th Earl of Southesk, (another James of course) died after fighting to restore James VIII to the throne. Eventually he was ‘attainted’ for his treason. All his titles and estates, which should have passed to his young cousin, were instead forfeited and James Carnegie was incensed. Sir James would not only join the British army, become a captain and be elected as a British MP, he would also spend the rest of his life trying to claim his cousin’s lost title and estate which included Kinnaird Castle and the sprawling grounds around it. He finally succeed just before he turned 50 and then promptly died a year later. While Sir James was a staunch supporter of the British Crown, his younger brother George supported the Jacobite uprising. They faced each other in the Battle of Culloden in 1746, and George barely escaped with his life. James vs James in the fight for King James These two James, Drummond and Carnegie, with very different world views and motivations, fought against each other in the struggle to restore another James - James Francis Edward Stuart to the throne during the Jacobite Rising of 1745-46 that ended in the horrific 52 minute Battle of Culloden. This James was truly defined by his fight for the crown. A few months after he was born, his Catholic father, James (are you getting a sense of my issue?) II of England / VII of Scotland, was deposed and exiled to France. When his father died in 1701, he claimed the throne as James III of England, James VIII of Scotland. The Jacobites in Scotland tried unsuccessfully to support this claim in the 1715 and 1745-46 uprisings. James was recognized as King by France, Spain, Modena and the Papal states. But he would never succeed in being recognized as King where it mattered most. Under English law he was attainted for treason in 1702 and his titles forfeited. As he grew older, hope for regaining the throne turned to his son, Charles – or Bonnie Prince Charles as history would come to know him, who led the failed 1745-46 rising to return his father to the throne. After the defeat at Culloden, James and Charles fought about the future. But perhaps tired of the long fight, James helped install Henry, Charles' son and the only legitimate Stuart heir, as a Cardinal ending any hope for a Stuart dynasty. Why so many James? As you might have noticed, the names ‘James’ is prominent in the families of the Drummonds, the Carnegies and the Stuarts – the three main families from the past in my novel series. Between the main characters, and their families there are no less than ten James to juggle. Beta readers complained about all this and not only confused the main James with each other, but also with the King, and with the other members of their family. I got the message loud and clear! The popularity of the name James has continued unabated in Scotland for centuries. It is still one of the most popular boy’s names even today. Only ‘Jack’ is higher. (Advice for writers in the 23rd Century writing historical fiction with time travel back to early 21st century - there are very few boys being named ‘Benjamin’ right now.) All this begs the question, why didn’t I just change their names? This would have been antithetical to my approach. Even though I am writing historical ‘fiction’ with a touch of fantasy, it was important for me that the ‘historical' part be as accurate as possible. Except for my main character, Adeena and her 18th Century alter ego, Katharine – all the main characters and events described in the past are based on real people. To keep things simple though, I did find alternatives to calling all of them ‘James’. I reserved that for James Drummond, Adeena’s love from the past. All other James were referred to by title (King, Captain, Duke) or last name (Drummond, Carnegie) or middle name (Robert). I still think James is a fine name. But only when used sparingly…

Who was the real William Shakespeare?

The guy from Stratford or Edward de Vere, Earl of Oxford? Yes, there is an authorship debate about who wrote the Shakespeare canon and has been apparently for centuries. I first heard about it on PBS Frontline: 'The Shakespeare Mystery' in 1989. In 1990, I visited William’s hometown Stratford-upon-Avon. We visited a period home similar to the one he might have lived in, visited a pub where he might have drank a beer, passed an old church he might have attended. All speculation about the great playwright and poet. What gives? All truth goes through three stages. First, it is ridiculed. Second, it is violently opposed. Third, it is accepted as being self-evident. -Arthur Schopenhauer (1788-1860) English Professors mostly (except for those at Concordia University in Portland Oregon) still believe the grammar-school educated William Skakspere was the greatest writer and contributor to the English language. Dozens of literary skeptics such as Mark Twain, Henry James, Ralph Emerson Waldo, Orson Welles and working-man poet Walt Whitman did not share such a belief. Writing in the mid-1840s, Ralph Emerson Waldo admitted that he could not "marry" Shakspere's life to Shakespeare's work: "Other admirable men have led lives in some sort of keeping with their thought, but this man is in wide contrast." Who was William Shakspere of Stratford? I was amazed to learn that the supposed author William left behind no books, no letters, no notes, nothing in his own handwriting - except six signatures in legal documents with three different spellings! At his death in 1616, the famous Will Shakspere mentions leaving his 2nd-best bed to his wife. But no mention of 20 plays written, but still to be published in the Folio of 1622. All we have of William’s biography is a collection of legal documents... deeds, summons, the original funeral monument picture etc. that paint a portrait of a small town grain-merchant, maybe a friend of actors? In contrast, all of William's literary contemporaries left behind much evidence of their writing ability. None of William's prominent neighbours knew he was playwright or poet. No mention was made of poor William's funeral in 1616. Why was he not buried in Westminster Abbey ? Scholars have determined William’s grandparents and parents were illiterate! His daughters as well. Imagine four generations: illiterate, illiterate, greatest writer in English history (8000 words contributed to the English language), followed by another generation of illiteracy. Unbelievable! Three biographers of the noble 3rd Earl of Southampton (Shakespeare's reputed mentor, and “fair youth” of the Sonnets) have not found a trace of William Shakspere in Southampton’s generous biography. Nor does William appear in the letters or biography of ANY writer or player of his period. Shakespeare’s greatest biographer Schoenbaum finishes his definitive review of dozens of Shakespeare’s biographies with a lament that William’s biography does not match his literary works The Short Case for Edward de Vere, Earl of Oxford Edward de Vere was born 17th Earl of Oxford, a descendant of Kings (Shakespeare's favorite topic). He was a child prodigy tutored by scholars at Cecil House. The great poet Walt Whitman wrote about Shakespeare: "Conceiv'd out of the fullest heat and pulse of European feudalism, personifying in unparallel'd ways the medieval aristocracy, its towering spirit of ruthless and gigantic caste, its own peculiar air and arrogance (no mere imitation) one of the wolfish earls so plenteous in the plays themselves... might seem to be the true author of those amazing works. I am firm against Shaksper.” Frank Harris, (The Man Shakespeare) wrote that Shakespeare "was an aristocrat born." Caroline Spurgeon (Shakespeare's Imagery) finds Shakespeare a "competent rider who loved horses." She identifies his first interest as falconry, and the games he is most knowledgeable about "bowls, football and tennis.” Consider Shakespeare's England, described by Charlton Ogburn as "a two volume symposium that some 40 contributors required 11 years to prepare, devotes 150 pages to 'Sports and Pastimes' in Elizabethan times. Hunting, falconry, coursing with greyhounds, archery, fencing and dueling, horsemanship, dancing, and games are treated in detail and illuminated with quotations from Shakespeare that show his precise and comprehensive knowledge of the subject.” Concluding the section on hunting, the Honourable J.W. Fortescue comments that probably "in all ages good sportsmen, like good men, are rarer than bad; but good there must have been at all times, and among the best of the 16th c. we must certainly rank William Shakespeare.” Edward de Vere enjoyed all of Shakespeare's noble sports listed above. He was the Queen’s Champion two years running at the annual jousting tournaments. He obtained a Law degree from Oxford College at sixteen. Pundits think Shakepeare hated lawyers taking “lets kill all the lawyers” out-of-context. It was uttered by the rebel Dick the Butcher - an evil killer himself who is soon dispatched. The Earl of Oxford was a ward For many years of Queen Elizabeth’s powerful and wealthy First Minister Lord Burgley (famous for his Rules as in Hamlet’s Polonius “neither a borrower nor a lender be”). Oxford wrote poetry and plays, conveniently all lost except for his earliest teenage poems. And like Hamlet (the most autobiographical of Shakespeare's works) he was a patron of a play-acting company, and the arts. The 'Stratford man' never left England Many scholars like to claim the 'Stratford man,' must have learned about nobility and noble sports from the “fair youth” of the Sonnets: supposedly the 3rd Earl of Southhampton, but it was Oxford who knew Southhampton best. Southampton was briefly engaged to Oxford's daughter – perhaps a reason the Sonnets urged him to marry? Southampton also later became close friends with Oxford's son - the 18th Earl. Edward de Vere traveled for at least a year to ALL of Shakespeare’s eleven Italian cities (where fifteen plays are set) based on his letters written to Lord Burghley at the time. Italian scholars including Grillo and Elze insist the writer of Shakespeare's work must have visited Italy based on local details in the plays. Poor William never left the London-Stratford area. Oxford spoke Shakespeare’s five languages, he had easy access to ALL of Shakespeare’s 800 known source works at Cecil House, at a time when books were precious and rare, and even at Oxford College chained to students desks. After his death, Oxford left behind an annotated Geneva Bible (Shakespeare's favorite of five he used according to scholars). Today that 450-year-old Bible is in the possession of Washington DCs Folger Shakespeare Library. Edward de Vere married Lord Burgley's daughter Ann, (think Ophelia) and led the life of Hamlet and was even captured and released by pirates. Getting to the truth
Here are some final thoughts on the nature of truth from the men (or man) at centre of the debate. For truth is truth, though never so old, and time cannot make that false which was once true.
- Edward de Vere, 17th Earl of Oxford For truth is truth, to the end of reckoning.
- William Shakespeare, Measure for Measure Further reading and reference Full list of skeptics: http://shakespeareoxfordfellowship.or... The Mysterious William Shakespeare, Charleton Ogburn 1992 Alias Shakespeare, Joseph Sobran 1997 Shakepeare’s Unorthodox Biography; D. Price 2001 https://shakespeareoxfordfellowship.o... https://shakespeareoxfordfellowship.org/ Peter Wilson is a busy grandfather, devoted husband and Christian, hiker, gym-rat, Monarchist, and history buff. He is fond of traveling, old small countries, space, nature, all God's creatures. He gets a kick out of most foods and even politics and economics.

Who was William Shakespeare?

The guy from Stratford or Edward de Vere, Earl of Oxford? Yes, there is an authorship debate about who wrote the Shakespeare canon and has been apparently for centuries. I first heard about it on PBS Frontline: 'The Shakespeare Mystery' in 1989. In 1990, I visited William’s hometown Stratford-upon-Avon. We visited a period home similar to the one he might have lived in, visited a pub where he might have drank a beer, passed an old church he might have attended. All speculation about the great playwright and poet. What gives? All truth goes through three stages. First, it is ridiculed. Second, it is violently opposed. Third, it is accepted as being self-evident. -Arthur Schopenhauer (1788-1860) English Professors mostly (except for those at Concordia University in Portland Oregon) still believe the grammar-school educated William Skakspere was the greatest writer and contributor to the English language. Dozens of literary skeptics such as Mark Twain, Henry James, Ralph Emerson Waldo, Orson Welles and working-man poet Walt Whitman did not share such a belief. Writing in the mid-1840s, Ralph Emerson Waldo admitted that he could not "marry" Shakspere's life to Shakespeare's work: "Other admirable men have led lives in some sort of keeping with their thought, but this man is in wide contrast." Who was William Shakspere of Stratford? I was amazed to learn that the supposed author William left behind no books, no letters, no notes, nothing in his own handwriting - except six signatures in legal documents with three different spellings! At his death in 1616, the famous Will Shakspere mentions leaving his 2nd-best bed to his wife. But no mention of 20 plays written, but still to be published in the Folio of 1622. All we have of William’s biography is a collection of legal documents... deeds, summons, the original funeral monument picture etc. that paint a portrait of a small town grain-merchant, maybe a friend of actors? In contrast, all of William's literary contemporaries left behind much evidence of their writing ability. None of William's prominent neighbours knew he was playwright or poet. No mention was made of poor William's funeral in 1616. Why was he not buried in Westminster Abbey ? Scholars have determined William’s grandparents and parents were illiterate! His daughters as well. Imagine four generations: illiterate, illiterate, greatest writer in English history (8000 words contributed to the English language), followed by another generation of illiteracy. Unbelievable! Three biographers of the noble 3rd Earl of Southampton (Shakespeare's reputed mentor, and “fair youth” of the Sonnets) have not found a trace of William Shakspere in Southampton’s generous biography. Nor does William appear in the letters or biography of ANY writer or player of his period. Shakespeare’s greatest biographer Schoenbaum finishes his definitive review of dozens of Shakespeare’s biographies with a lament that William’s biography does not match his literary works The Short Case for Edward de Vere, Earl of Oxford Edward de Vere was born 17th Earl of Oxford, a descendant of Kings (Shakespeare's favorite topic). He was a child prodigy tutored by scholars at Cecil House. The great poet Walt Whitman wrote about Shakespeare: "Conceiv'd out of the fullest heat and pulse of European feudalism, personifying in unparallel'd ways the medieval aristocracy, its towering spirit of ruthless and gigantic caste, its own peculiar air and arrogance (no mere imitation) one of the wolfish earls so plenteous in the plays themselves... might seem to be the true author of those amazing works. I am firm against Shaksper.” Frank Harris, (The Man Shakespeare) wrote that Shakespeare "was an aristocrat born." Caroline Spurgeon (Shakespeare's Imagery) finds Shakespeare a "competent rider who loved horses." She identifies his first interest as falconry, and the games he is most knowledgeable about "bowls, football and tennis.” Consider Shakespeare's England, described by Charlton Ogburn as "a two volume symposium that some 40 contributors required 11 years to prepare, devotes 150 pages to 'Sports and Pastimes' in Elizabethan times. Hunting, falconry, coursing with greyhounds, archery, fencing and dueling, horsemanship, dancing, and games are treated in detail and illuminated with quotations from Shakespeare that show his precise and comprehensive knowledge of the subject.” Concluding the section on hunting, the Honourable J.W. Fortescue comments that probably "in all ages good sportsmen, like good men, are rarer than bad; but good there must have been at all times, and among the best of the 16th c. we must certainly rank William Shakespeare.” Edward de Vere enjoyed all of Shakespeare's noble sports listed above. He was the Queen’s Champion two years running at the annual jousting tournaments. He obtained a Law degree from Oxford College at sixteen. Pundits think Shakepeare hated lawyers taking “lets kill all the lawyers” out-of-context. It was uttered by the rebel Dick the Butcher - an evil killer himself who is soon dispatched. The Earl of Oxford was a ward For many years of Queen Elizabeth’s powerful and wealthy First Minister Lord Burgley (famous for his Rules as in Hamlet’s Polonius “neither a borrower nor a lender be”). Oxford wrote poetry and plays, conveniently all lost except for his earliest teenage poems. And like Hamlet (the most autobiographical of Shakespeare's works) he was a patron of a play-acting company, and the arts. The 'Stratford man' never left England Many scholars like to claim the 'Stratford man,' must have learned about nobility and noble sports from the “fair youth” of the Sonnets: supposedly the 3rd Earl of Southhampton, but it was Oxford who knew Southhampton best. Southampton was briefly engaged to Oxford's daughter – perhaps a reason the Sonnets urged him to marry? Southampton also later became close friends with Oxford's son - the 18th Earl. Edward de Vere traveled for at least a year to ALL of Shakespeare’s eleven Italian cities (where fifteen plays are set) based on his letters written to Lord Burghley at the time. Italian scholars including Grillo and Elze insist the writer of Shakespeare's work must have visited Italy based on local details in the plays. Poor William never left the London-Stratford area. Oxford spoke Shakespeare’s five languages, he had easy access to ALL of Shakespeare’s 800 known source works at Cecil House, at a time when books were precious and rare, and even at Oxford College chained to students desks. After his death, Oxford left behind an annotated Geneva Bible (Shakespeare's favorite of five he used according to scholars). Today that 450-year-old Bible is in the possession of Washington DCs Folger Shakespeare Library. Edward de Vere married Lord Burgley's daughter Ann, (think Ophelia) and led the life of Hamlet and was even captured and released by pirates. Getting to the truth
Here are some final thoughts on the nature of truth from the men (or man) at centre of the debate. For truth is truth, though never so old, and time cannot make that false which was once true.
- Edward de Vere, 17th Earl of Oxford For truth is truth, to the end of reckoning.
- William Shakespeare, Measure for Measure Further reading and reference Full list of skeptics: http://shakespeareoxfordfellowship.or... The Mysterious William Shakespeare, Charleton Ogburn 1992 Alias Shakespeare, Joseph Sobran 1997 Shakepeare’s Unorthodox Biography; D. Price 2001 https://shakespeareoxfordfellowship.o... https://shakespeareoxfordfellowship.org/ Peter Wilson is a busy grandfather, devoted husband and Christian, hiker, gym-rat, Monarchist, and history buff. He is fond of traveling, old small countries, space, nature, all God's creatures. He gets a kick out of most foods and even politics and economics.

Do women today have too much to do?

Aircraft pioneer, journalist and mother Fay Gillis Wells has an answer for you. This weekend, I hauled out the toolbox my father gave my husband for his bachelor party, crawled under the bed, and painstakingly fastened a headboard to our bed frame. Skipping lunch, I vacuumed and dusted for several hours, coerced my two kids to fold laundry, and fielded a few high intensity emails from my boss, who is traveling overseas. I did all of this with a sinus infection and a heavy sense of self-pity. My husband was unwell, too, so I did not look to him to pitch in. Instead, I brooded on the impossible burden I had strapped on when I decided to have children, a career, and be the household handyman. My husband, when not ill, is the cook, chauffeur, and stay-at-home dad. In fact, speaking in terms of Fifties-style marriages, he is the wife. He lunches with friends, gardens, feels unfulfilled, and gets more manicures than I do. How unfair, I thought, on hands and knees to scrub behind the toilet bowl, that in addition to many of the duties normally associated with wives, I must also be the man of the house. When women got the opportunity to take on activities usually associated with men, they became frenetic, juggling both roles while running an impossible race that ends, maybe, in retirement, illness, or psychotic breakdown. Right about that time, my mind wandered, landed on Fay Gillis Wells, and brought my rollicking pity party to a hard stop. When women got the opportunity to take on activities usually associated with men, they became frenetic, juggling both roles while running an impossible race that ends, maybe, in retirement, illness, or psychotic breakdown. Fay learns to fly - the hard way Fay Gillis Wells became famous a month after she began flying lessons, when she and her instructor parachuted to safety as the biplane her instructor was piloting broke up 1000 feet over Long Island. Undaunted by the terrifying fall from the sky, Fay collected her federal pilot’s license a month later. That same month, while America was reeling from the October 1929 Stock Market crash, Fay got a job as America’s first aircraft saleswoman and demonstrator. There were 117 women licensed to fly at that time, and Fay wrote to all of them, suggesting they start a club. Ninety-nine women pilots showed up, including Amelia Earhart, who became president of the club. Fay was the secretary. Below is a picture of a few of the members of “The Ninety-Nine Club” as they named it. Faye is the one on the right, in the helmet, goggles and grease-spattered oilskins. Had I not known of her exploits, I still would have loved her sense of style, amongst the furs and stockings, she sat for this famous photo in her business attire. A sense of fashion - on and off the page Fay knew about clothes, mind you. She designed and modeled female pilot clothing, and when the Ninety-Nines put out a magazine, she was the fashion editor. Did I mention she could write? In case this is leading you to believe Fay was simply a female pilot with courage, she wasn’t. She was also a foreign correspondent, and at the age of 26 covered the 1934 coronation of the Manchurian Emperor for the New York Times. About the same time, while working in Moscow for the New York Herald Tribune and the Associated Press, she heard about Wiley Post’s first round-the-world flight and helped him set up fueling stops across Russia. Wiley was grateful, and a year later, when he was planning another round-the-world flight, he invited Fay to accompany him. Although she was delighted with the offer, at the last minute, romance intervened. She had fallen in love with Linton Wells, another foreign correspondent 15 years her senior. They eloped, and of course, spent their honeymoon covering the Italian invasion of Ethiopia. Meanwhile, Wiley offered the empty seat on the plane to Will Rogers. Sadly, Wiley and the famous comedian perished when the plane hit bad weather in Alaska. A starry relationship and a leopard Linton and Fay covered the war in Africa independently. Sometimes both their bylines appeared on the front pages of major papers. When they finally returned to New York, they filled their apartment with exotic animals, a lioness, a cheetah, and a leopard named Snooks that Fay took with her on interviews when they moved to California and she began to cover Hollywood. When I think about the housewives of my grandmother’s generation, I don’t think about jet-setting foreign correspondents. But Fay did eventually have a child and take on mundane duties. She was 38, the age I was when I had my daughter almost 60 years later. They classified my pregnancy as “elderly.” I can only imagine the terms they used for Fay. In 1946, when her son was born, Fay would not have had most of the appliances that I curse today, although they make my life easier. Even if she had one of the washing machines unavailable to the working class, she would have had to hang the wet clothes by hand. They lived on a houseboat in Florida, and I picture her spending hours on laundry day hanging up cloth diapers and ironing shirts in a little galley downstairs. Her stint with housework lasted until the 60s when she returned to journalism for the 'minor' task of covering the white house, including Nixon’s trip to China. Stressed out? Fay to the rescue. When I start to spin out of control and worry that I am overdoing it, I find it helpful to think about Fay. She is too far out of my sphere of normality to be intimidating. I won’t likely ever learn to fly. My dogs would not handle a cheetah well. But it helps to think of her when I worry too much about gender roles and whether I’m losing out by trying to do it all. I couldn’t get close to her at half my pace. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go change the oil in my car. Lara Bujold Clouden is a part-time fiction writer and full-time business analyst. She lives with her husband, two children, two dogs, and a lot of moles in Newtown CT. She blogs at Elby Cloud at www.elbycloud.wordpress.com Follow her on Twitter at https://twitter.com/elbycloud to hear about her forthcoming collection of short stories, A Hankering for Lettuce

Every cello is a time machine

A skilled musician can coax out ageless music from instruments that refuse to die. No a cello is not an actual flux-capacitored Delorean that can take Marty back to November 5, 1955. But I consider these old instruments to be time-travel vehicles nonetheless, for both the musicians that play them and the audiences lucky enough to be there when they do. A cello is one of the few objects humans create that improves with age. Old castles are damp, drafty and have bad plumbing. A 1915 circa washing machine is not a treasured appliance, except to a museum curator. Even wine goes bad eventually. But a 300 hundred year old cello is not only prized for its pedigree (Stradivari, Amati, etc) but also because of its mature and richly nuanced voice. The quality of the sound is not diminished by old age. In the hands of a musician who understands its personality, an old cello takes us on a journey that makes time evaporate. Musicians who play these old cellos regard them with the affection usually reserved for a lover. A lover with an incredible aural range closely aligned to that of the human voice - both male and female combined. The deepest cello sound is similar to a basso profondo - a tenor who can hold the lowest notes with authority. And a cello can also reach high notes with the agility and lightness of a coloratura soprano. After years spent performing together, these instruments help define the musicians that play them and often become an integral part of their artistry. The ‘big little violin’ - a brief history Like many of my favourite things, (pizza and espresso also come to mind), the cello traces its origins to Italy. Around 1530, some of the best violin makers in the Cremona region of Northern Italy turned their attention to crafting large bass stringed instruments that could be played in consort with the violin. They called this new creature a violone (large viola). It was bigger than the cello we are familiar with today because lower pitches were harder to achieve in a small form factor. Andrea Amati created one of the first violones around this time. Amati finished a three-stringed bass instrument in 1538 that he would later paint and gild as part of a commission from King Charles IX of France. It became known as the “King” and was used in the royal court for more than 200 years. Today it holds the distinction as the oldest surviving cello on the planet. Its voice is said to be remarkable, possessing a beautiful ‘full-throated sound.’ “There's an ease of performance no modern instrument can equal. The changes in the color of sound cannot be equaled." String theory meets Plan B The first strings used for these large bass violins or violones, were made of catgut. (Don't worry, no cats were harmed in the process.) The string was made from the natural fiber in the intestines of sheep or cows, and hence the term ‘cattlegut,’ which eventually got shortened to ‘catgut.’ While these gut strings produced a rich sound, when strung on the large violone frame, it limited the instrument to the role of bass accompaniment. In 1659 wire-wound strings (with a thin gut core) were developed in Bologna. This innovation supported a higher string tension than pure gut, resulting in a finer bass and louder sound on a smaller body, which lead of a variety of sizes and shapes for early violones. That changed in 1707 when Antonio Stradivari, experimenting in his Cremona workshop, standardized the size of these instruments with a version somewhere between the largest and smallest ones of the day. He christened his design forma B. This new form factor was Stradivari's answer to the quest for a bass instrument that could also function in a solo role. His forma B standardized the specifications and was hailed as the “perfect design.” Pretty good for a plan B. The diminutive size of this form required a new name to distinguish it from the larger violone and it soon became known as a violincello (big little violin), which years later was abbreviated to ‘cello and then finally just to cello, at least in the English speaking world. Stradivarius time machines Here is a quick guide to some cello ‘time machines’ created by the most famous luthier of Cremona. Stéphane Tétreault performs with the Countess The Countess of Stainlein-Ex Paganini: A 1707 Stradivarius, sold for $6 million USD in 2012 and is currently under the watchful eye of Montréal cellist Stéphane Tétreault. Former owners include Nicolò Paganini and many others. Bernard Greenhouse, an American cellist who owned and played it for 54 years reflected on his time with the ‘Countess’ this way. “There's an ease of performance no modern instrument can equal. The changes in the color of sound cannot be equaled." The Davydov, another Stradivarius, ‘Forma B’ model from 1712. Its name originates from the renowned Russian cellist Karl Davydov who performed with until his death in 1889. It was also owned by Jacqueline du Pré who used it for recording in the 1960’s. But later the cello reacted badly to her aggressive playing style and she grew disillusioned with it. Yo-Yo Ma came into possession of the cello after Jackie's death, and remarked, "Jackie's unbridled dark qualities went against the Davydov. You have to coax the instrument. The more you attack it, the less it returns. Each sound stimulates the player’s imagination. You cannot push the sound, rather it needs to be released.” The Piatti, Red Cello – One of Stradivari’s later cello, named after the Italian cellist Alfredo Piatti who owned it for 34 years until 1901. The current owner, Mexican cellist Carlos Prieto did exhaustive research on the history of the Piatti, tracing through museums, cathedrals and places where the cello has travelled - from Cremona to a Joseph Hadyn premiere and even to taverns in Ireland where it likely partied. In the 20th Century it ended up in Nazi Germany in the hands of Francesco Mendelssohn, whose father was a nephew of composer Felix Mendelssohn. He smuggled it across the border into Switzerland - on his bicycle - and then to NYC, where Mendelssohn went into a downward spiral. He misplaced the cello at one point after a bad night, and it was almost taken away by a garbage truck. It’s now safely held and estimated to be worth a small fortune. Prieto performs with it still and claims the cello enjoys returning to places it has previously visited. A connection forged across time It’s not hard to imagine how these instruments connect us to the time when they were created, and to the people and places they’ve influenced. When you hear a great cellist lovingly coaxing a low G sound from a three-hundred-year-old cello, you are sharing the same experience the as all the listeners that have come before you. Much of the emotional responses we get from classical music are from compositions nearly as old as the instruments themselves. If you close your eyes while listening to a live performance of these masterpieces, you can easily find yourself transported back to the 18th Century. No flux capacitors needed.

Time traveling through DNA memories

I have always been fascinated with the concept of time travel. Maybe it is because I like history or perhaps it’s the paradoxes that become possible. If you killed your parents or grandparents in the past, how could you have been born and traveled back in time? A ball can be thrown into a wormhole emerges in the past and knock its incoming past self away from entering the wormhole in the first place. As much as I like the concept of time travel, the science that supports it is speculative. Albert Einstein demonstrated that time is relative, and depends on how fast you are moving relative to something else. For instance, If you could travel at 99.99% of the speed of light for a year and return to earth, you would have barely aged, while everyone you knew before you left would be dead. In earth time you would have been gone for about 141 years. The only wrinkle is that it is impossible to travel at the speed of light. There are theories about creating wormholes between points in space-time, but it only applies to very small particles, not people. But, what if the past actually lives in you, inside your DNA? A strand of DNA after all is a just a data file. storing information in a base 4 code. A journey of humans through time If you have gone through a testing service like 23andMe you know that your DNA tells a story about you. Some have called the human genome, which was mapped in 2003, a narrative of the journey of our species through time. Your genome, which you can download onto your laptop as large text file from one of the DNA testing companies, is the book of you - where your ancestors lived and their nationalities, along with a slew of traits you have inherited. Do prefer salty or sweet, can you smell asparagus, do you get more or less mosquito bites than others? Other genetic markers can indicate your risks of serious medical conditions, and even whether you are more or less likely to have wet earwax and a pleasant body odour. Yeah, it gets a little weird reading these reports. As the study of genetics advance rapidly, research into epigenetic memory has revealed some fascinating possibilities. It seems that the memory of particularly traumatic event can be passed on from generation-to-generation. With an epigenetic memory, your DNA sequence is not altered, but rather the expression of a gene (humans have about 20,500 of them) is changed. As a writer, with a bent towards history and time travel, the story possibilities of inheriting memories is mind altering (literally). Assassin’s Creed, the action/fantasy movie and video game franchise, used a machine called the ‘Animus’ which allowed the protagonist, Cal, to access and re-live the genetic memories of his distant ancestor Aguilar. But, what if the past actually lives in you? A strand of DNA is just a data file storing a few megabytes of information using a base 4 code. In my novel series, Song for a Lost Kingdom, Adeena Stuart connects with Katharine Carnegie, a woman who was born almost 300 years earlier. The time travel is made through their shared composition of musical score. While this is only a flight of fancy from my imagination, if genetic memories are real, could it take it out the realm of pure fantasy? Crows don’t forget The evidence for the genetic transmission of memories comes mainly from experiments with animals. I find the most interesting of these comes from observing crows. A comprehensive study from the University of Washington, demonstrated that crows remember the faces of people who have harassed them. And researchers believe crows can pass that knowledge on to their offspring. Not just a general fear of people, but a grudge against the faces of specific people the crows regard as a threat. While the proof is inconclusive, studies show crows seem to have the ability to pass information about threats to their safety down to their descendants. Passing fear down to mouse descendants Another study, this one involving mice, showed how specific fears can be inherited. A study at the Emory University School of Medicine found that mice can pass on learned information about traumatic events, such as the smell of the acetophenone. Adult mice were exposed to the scent of this chemical, while getting small electric shocks. The mice eventually associated the scent with pain, even without a shock. “How the hell is this happening? This fear was passed down to their offspring, even though they had never encountered the acetophnone. Grandchildren, also had the same fear, as did offspring fertilized in-vitro. The study was hailed as a groundbreaking demonstration of ‘acquired transgenerational epigenetic effects’. This was followed by the somewhat less elegant statement in one peer review: “How the hell is this happening?” Starving worms glow in the dark Researchers at Tel Aviv University wanted to study how it could be that changes in gene expressions, but not the DNA itself, are getting passed on. Basically the ‘how the hell' question, wrapped in the parlance of scientific discovery. Their experiments with worms showed the process involved passing down small RNAs, the molecule that unpacks the information stored in DNA. A similar study from the Columbia University Medical Centre showed that starvation of roundworms induced changes in their RNA. These changes were inherited through at least three generations. And finally, a team from Barcelona’s Centre for Genomic Regulation, showed that nematode worms that were exposed to cold and warm environments, passed along memories of the warm environment for at least 14 generations. They demonstrated these memories through a glowing gene that fluoresced under UV light. What about people? A study that looked at “transgenerational transmission of environmental information” in humans, found that the descendants of WWII Dutch Holocaust survivors had lower levels of the stress hormone cortisol in their blood, making them more vulnerable to stress and fear. With this same cohort, unique in modern times as they suffered a deliberate starvation at the hands of the Nazis in 1944-45, found their children were smaller than average. The data suggested that the famine experienced by the mothers caused epigenetic changes that were even passed down to the next generation. Bottom line We are a long way off from understanding the possibilities of epigenetic memory. Human memories themselves are elusive, and dependent on context and experience. DNA is a blueprint for building a person, but while we carry instincts, and likely some ancient fears implanted from our ancestors, detailed memories are not included, and with our current understanding of the mind, never can be. However, the transmission of epigenetic memories, that modify the expression of genes has been conclusively documented. Given the ongoing research in this area, primarily in the fight against cancer and other diseases, my guess is we will find genetic switches that pass on detailed and very specific information about our experiences to our descendants.

4 Mysteries on the death of Mozart

Call me naive. Or a lazy Mozart historian. For years I pretty much took everything in the 1984 film Amadeus, as the literal truth about Wolfang Amadeus Mozart. I always had nagging doubts about the Salieri character, but I presumed the basic facts of the life of the great composer were accurate. That changed with a trip to Austria this summer. We visited Salzburg to see the house where Mozart was born and spent his teenage years, but it was not until our tour of Vienna that I got a rude awakening. The guide on our bus casually pointed to a park and said: “That's where Mozart is buried.” What? We were driving down a four-lane highway through a busy part of Vienna. Wasn’t he buried in a pauper’s grave in a dark forest far from the city? I clearly remembered that from the movie. I challenged the guide with my superior knowledge. I mean I've watched that movie at least a dozen times. The guide shook her head. “No, he is buried right there.” Doubting Amadeus? Now I was left wondering about the film, in particular the account of Mozart’s death. Peter Shaffer’s Academy award-winning script (adapted from his own stage play) explored the gap between human genius and mediocrity. As a work of fiction it is a brilliant, emotionally compelling narrative. But as a documentary on Mozart, maybe not so much. After a little digging I realized there are at least 4 mysteries surrounding his death that are still generating discussion, if not controversy. 1. Where is Mozart buried? The accepted answer is that he was buried in a ‘common grave’ at St. Marx Cemetery a few miles outside the old city walls of Vienna. Was he buried in an open pit, as depicted in the movie or in an individual grave, as others claim? A ‘common grave’ by the way, was used for anyone at that time in Vienna who was not an aristocrat. The day of his funeral, December 7, 1791 was dark and stormy, and got worse as the day progressed. With rain changing to snow and the storm picking up intensity, no one attended the funeral procession or the final ceremony. By some accounts his corpse was simply covered in lime and buried in a communal grave. Others dispute this, and say he was given a ‘third class’ funeral at a cost of 8 florins. For that price, about $450 USD after inflation, he would get an individually dug grave. However, within a few years the grave digger had died and his successor did not remember exactly where Mozart had been buried on that bleak December evening. In 1855, a gravestone was erected at the site where ‘experts’ concluded Mozart’s grave site was located. But their conclusions were based more on conjecture than on fact. 2. Was Mozart poisoned? This question seems to an easy one, at first. There is no evidence of poisoning, even though a Berlin newspaper declared within this to be the case a week after his death. Speculation has been running rampant ever since. As late as November 22, 1791 he was in good health. He fell ill after a public performance in Vienna and died less than two weeks later, just before 1:00 am on the morning of December 5. Because there was no autopsy, no medical records and no corpse, at least 118 possible causes of death have been postulated. His symptoms have been widely studied by experts and to this day, no one can make a definitive call. Given the sudden nature of his illness and death, one theory is epidemic streptococcal infection. But without hard evidence, the cause of death remains open to debate. 3. Did Mozart work on the Requiem Mass on his deathbed? Near the end of Amadeus, Mozart lies in bed, deathly ill. Antonio Salieri is with him, and offers assistance in finishing the Requim in D Minor. Mozart dictates whole sections to Salieiri who struggles to transcribe the notes to paper. The scene captures Mozart's genius as he reaches into his mind, hours from death, searching for the composition that lies inside, almost fully-formed. He instructs his note-taker on how to assemble the pieces. Salieri can barely make sense of the directions, recording the notes as fast as his quill can move, often muttering, “I don’t understand, I don’t understand.” It seems this part of the film is loosely based on facts. Friends who were with the Mozart hours before his death, said later that he had the score of the Requiem brought to his bed. Mozart sang the alto part while others joined in singing the soprano line. He is reported to have wept at the first bars of the Lacimosa movement. As Mozart lay on his deathbed, he dictated sections of the Requiem to his pupil, Franz Süssmayr, the man who would go on to complete the score at the request of Mozart's widow, Constanze. While this story has been disputed by one of the friends who was with him, others do remember Mozart giving instruction to Süssmayr, while Salieri watched. 4. Was Salieri involved in the death of Mozart? Soon after Mozart’s death, rumours began that the two had been bitter rivals and that Salieri poisoned the younger composer. This lead to a play entitled Mozart and Salieri, focusing on the dangers of envy. The play became an opera. Both included the poisoning theory. In Amadeus, the ‘poison’ is Salieri’s manipulation of Mozart, playing on the composer’s troubled relationship with his dead father. Salieri secretly commissions Mozart to write a mass for the dead, ominously telling him that it is for “a man who deserved a requiem mass. And never got one.” In truth, Mozart was commissioned to write a requiem mass. Count Franz Walsegg-Stuppach was a wealthy landowner who had just lost his young wife died. He commissioned Mozart to write a requiem mass that he would pass off as his own, sending masked messengers to offer the commission and deliver generous cash payments. Salieri suffered a mental breakdown in later life, driven in part by the accusation that he poisoned Mozart, an accusal which greatly troubled him. After being admitted to the Vienna General Hospital, Salieri accused himself of killing Mozart and eventually this became woven into almost all future accounts of their relationship. Google loves this story... If you are at all curious about the mysteries of Mozart’s death, you can spend the better part of a day researching the competing theories, studies and papers written on the subject. Together with plays, operas, movies, and documentaries, you get a sense that the ongoing fascination with these mysteries will continue for a long time to come.

How Monks Perfected Beer

In the history of brewing beer, monks have a special place in heaven. They found the perfect triangulation of spirituality, nutrition and self-sufficiency creating product that some might be tempted to call 'divine.' During a recent trip to Bavaria, we visited the Weltenburg Abbey, (Weltenburger Klosterbrauerei) the oldest monastic brewery in the world. They proudly stamp the year of their founding - 1050, on all their bottles, cans and T-shirts. The oldest monastic brewery claim is hotly disputed by another Bavarian monastery, Weihenstephan Abbey, who say they got going in 1040. What cannot be argued though, is that monks revolutionized beer-making, and to this day the beers the monastic breweries produce are among the finest in the world. I can attest to the creamy texture of the Weltenburger Dunkel. we sampled. It was nutty brown, and really earthy - but still very refreshing. Sipping from a tall glass stein in their beer garden on the Danube, I wondered what drove monks to become such master brewers? With a little research I discovered some of the reasons. By the way, if you travel to Northern Europe, you’ll want to spend a morning exploring a monastic brewery. You get to absorb history and beer at the same time. And maybe stay for lunch - all in one stop! A match made in heaven? Following the rules of St. Benedict Let’s travel back in time to about 600 AD. You’re a monk, devoted to a life of monastic living, hidden away from the hustle and bustle of medieval temptations. You and your companions follow the Rules of St. Benedict. One of these rules is that to become a true monk you must “live by the work of your own hands.” You should also donate to the poor through the fruits of your labour and provide travelling pilgrims with food and drink. It’s not long before you realize that brewing beer will provide a means to live by St. Benedict’s rules. You consider this while you and your fellow monks down four litres of beer each day - for nutrition, of course. Also handy during long periods of fasting. In the Middle Ages beer was consumed widely across Europe. (Some things never change.) Back then it was safer to drink than water, but often not much better. Beer was made by women with whatever leftover food could be found in the house. It often turned rancid. To become a true monk you must “live by the work of your own hands.” One thing I heard constantly in Germany and Austria was that beer is ‘liquid bread.’ Monks must have realized this too. Since grain forms the backbone of beer, it was a source of safe, stored calories - about 150 per pint. A slice of bread might be less than half of that, around 70 calories. So, drink up. Monks take beer to a new level Monks saw possibilities in a product they could not only make themselves, but that would also sustain them, could be sold to travellers and offered to those in need. But first, they would have to take brewing to a higher level than was known in the Middle Ages. With a fervour that even St. Benedict would bless, they began to experiment with beer-making, keeping detailed journals of what did and did not work. Blessed innovations in beer making They added wild hops which provided balance to the sweet flavours of the malt, but more importantly, helped preserve the beer. The hops also gave the beer a nice thirst quenching bitterness. I can vouch for this. Give me anything on a really hot day, as long as it’s a cold beer. Monks also introduced a fastidious level of sanitary practices to their beer making and developed detailed regulations for everything from brewing to labelling and storage. They discovered you could run water through mash to get beer with various alcohol levels, selling the highest (5%) to travellers, drinking the second run (2.5%) themselves, and finally, squeezing a third run through for the poor and destitute. Monks are also credited with coming up with the idea of ‘lagering’ or cold storing beer for better flavour, which in turn lead to pale, clean tasting Pilsners and a thousand TV commercials. Fast forward almost 600 years and monks are still making beer, with some of their brews regarded as the best in the world. They also find talking about the beer they make often leads to deeper conversations of a spiritual nature with visitors to the monastery. A match made in heaven indeed!