Colonial Suicide

[Violet]

My dearest Georges,

Well again we seem to have lost touch… I do hope you’re checking your post office box… or are you in the far most regions of those swampy dankish inlands of yours (you darkish-Irelandish menace of a man)? Anyway, it would help if I knew these things. I’m at our upstate dump of a get a – uh, weekend escape hatch, only it seems to be the 1930’s, so something must have changed in our upstate story line… Little Georges is growing up quickly, and wants to know who his Daddy is, although he’s seen all the headlines, and is telling his friends you like something he calls “Rob Berries” (it seems he thinks “robberies” are what I give him on his Sunday pancakes)… Oh, I guess I’m supposed to be with you as well, but with our son (from that other story line), I thought I should stay put and do what I do best… which is to wait for you, my darling… no matter how long it takes, or how lonely it gets… I’m just now putting some finishing touches on things around here (such as filling in the cracks in these crumbling plaster walls, to keep the winter blasts of ice c-cold wind at bay) all in order to make your next homecoming... well, warm, quite frankly… hmm… I seem to be remembering some devastatingly alluring bridge and a black veil of some kind from a another life time ago, it seems… if only we could return there, my love… I mean, I look so good in that veil…

[Violet goes into a kind of, well, purple haze…]

Gosh… I don’t know where this is coming from, but I have reason to believe, my love, that we will soon be visiting the premises of some fictive land known as…

CHINATOWN…

… oh, wow... I'm beginning to see it now… it seems it will still be the thirties, only you will be a private detective, and I will be, well, just stunning, as it turns out (!)… Actually, I think I thought this is what I already looked like when we were gangsters… must have gotten the two flicks mixed up, I mean with its being the thirties and the same actress 'n all… Anyway, I like thinking of you that way, my darling, I mean, as a successful private eye type… with your expensive linen suits and Florsheim shoes (one of which you will lose to that anchor fence once that deluge of “run off” water is secretly let loose late one night in the outer reaches of what will soon be incorporated into the city of Los Angeles (or some such plot line)… that’s when you just happen to be snooping around, it seems, as you private detective types tend to do… It’s such a complicated story, Georges, my sweet (oh, I believe your name is Jake now)... [actually, Georges, do you really (as in actually) look like Jack Nicholson?... is that the missing piece here???] [you should have told me that a long time ago... ] [the author seems to swoon for a second]... now, where was I? Oh, the complex story line... yeah, every time I try to go over it in my mind I get a bit dizzy in fact… there’s something just too awful that I need to remember about myself, it seems, but I have a feeling I’ve been suppressing it… Oh, I hope you’re here when I remember it all, my love… I have a feeling I’ll need you for that… Oh, and my name is Mrs. Mulwray, it seems… and you, well, you’ll be getting your nose clipped by that nasty midget of a film director, Roman something… Oh, Polanski… oh God, no wonder I don’t want to remember the rest of it!! [Roman, I actually adore you, by the way, not quite the way I adore Leonard, but, well, I cherish your movies]… now, where was I again?... Oh, and Lord M. is here as well… as some kind of evil overlord person, Noah Cross, I believe the name is (the one played so convincingly by John Huston) -- Oh, wait, that must mean… OH MUGOD… why it seems Lord M… why… oh god, no -- Lord M.'s my…

... Lord M.'s my father!!!!…

... wait, that's not the reveal... oh… I think I’m remembering now… this monstrous thing that’s happened to me… that Lord M’s done to me, his very own daughter… OH NO… Oh
m
U
G
od!!!...
!
… please my sweet Georg –- uh, Jake… Mr. Gittes, I mean… please return to me as soon as you can… we can replace the shoe you’re missing, and I’ll tend to that nasty wound on your nose, my love… oh, and you can still wear your visor, if you like… I know how you think it improves your masculine prowess ‘n all… (only then I’ll be the one with the cut on my face) (then again, those sharp looking men's hats, those wide-brimmed fedoras, I think they're called, look so very sexy... maybe you could wear one of those over your visor)…


Burning for you, (and in grave danger of remembering something awful about Lord M.)…

Your truest and most agony ridden love… (although I really do look great in this red lipstick, don’t I?)…

Mrs. Violet Mulwray xxx (who’s Evelyn, by the way?)… oh, and it seems I have a, a… d- d- dau
g
h T
e
R… or is she my si-- si --

[Violet collapses in a crumpled little purple pile on the floor of her elegant, 1930’s Los Angeles home, as her Asian servants come running to her assistance]…

...but where’s Geo– uh, Jake?...

[TO BE CONTINUED]…

... wait a minute, I wanted to add something here... now, Jake, sweetheart... just because I get all nervous every time you mention my f- f- f a a t t h e r... and just because there are, well, certain things that even I don't want to remember let alone tell you about, and just because the evil Lord. M. Cross person (my f- f-ather, in other words) has misled you as to certain things about me... and just because you found those broken glasses in my elegant home's garden pond, which you discovered was actually salt water (BERRY BERRY BAD FOUR GLASS) instead of its being fresh pond water, glasses which you BELIEVE belonged to my murdered husband (who, although a good man, was all tied up with the evil Lord. M. Cross person -- my f-f-aather -- and engineering damns 'n things, seemingly at the behest of some evil overlord scheme of his), and who (my husband, that is) you BELIEVE drowned in this pond, which you BELIEVE implicates ME (the wife, who, yes, I am guilty of certain marital indiscretions, but, I mean, if you knew what I'd been through you'd understand)... and just because, well, who knows what else (as I said, it's a complicated plot line), well, just because of all that... it doesn't mean I'm GUILTY OF MURDER, Jake... you have to believe me... (you actually look kind of cute with your nose all sewed up like that, by the way, sweet heart)... [Violet hears her, well, daughter (for lack of a non plot spoiler explanation) calling her from upstairs]... (Violet Mulwray): Yes, dear, I'm coming... [Violet suddenly goes pale]... gee, I'm feeling a little bit dizzy all of a sudden...

[Violet AGAIN collapses in a crumpled little purple pile, only now it's in the more modest home of one of her Asian servants, who again comes to her assistance]...

...but where’s Geo– uh, Jake?...


[TO BE CONTINUED]…

[Violet]

Having left things here at a bit of a cliff hanger, it seems a good time to pause for a... well, a

I N T E R M I S S I O N

The following number I think captures both the wildness and tenderness of Georges & Violet's uncontainable love... oh, and great build by the way, even with this shorter version (in case you're new to this classic)... (I suggest you go full screen on this)...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=90u1IV4dw8o

(oh, and sorry Leonard, this one got away from me I'm afraid...)

v i o l e t

[Violet]

.













Violet awakes from CHINATOWN… But where is she? she wonders… Where is her love, Georges?... ... she feels herself to be the smallest spec on the bluest page, dislocated from all sense of herself… all prior identities seem to have dissolved into this empty world of blue-greyness… she is alone... And the wind… the most heartless wind is at her back… her veil... (no longer secret-wedding black)… cries out instead her wounded heart…



http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AyFMRH_poKw
FULL SCREEN AGAIN RECOMMENDED
















.

[George.Wright]

Hi Violet,
I am somewhere on this blue page, an eternity dot of compulsion.........

Georges.

[Violet]

.







... I'm still lost inside all this blueness... but will contrive a way to save you from such an awful fate, Georges, my sweet... v

i o

l

e t x x x
x
x
x

xxx xxx x

x

xx xxxxxxx x x x x xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx... xx x xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxxxx xx x xxxx
x
x
xxxxxxxxx

x
x
xxx




.

[Violet]

.






... this empty world of blue-greyness was in fact how the world appeared to Violet without her love, Georges… for it seemed to her now that she might be losing him… And so some healing would be needed, she thought… something that might draw him back to her, and her to him… Then she accidentally heard a song she hadn’t heard in a very long time… a song that was timeless and full of longing… longing for love… longing for wisdom even… It had been months and months that Violet had been crying… crying for no reason, it seemed… crying from aloneness…. crying when writing her poems for Georges… and she found herself crying again as she listened to this… feeling that this might free them… reunite them… and heal them…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n_56ep729TE&ob=av2n
FULL SIZE SCREEN MANDATORY

Oh, and my deepest, warmest thanks to Leonard…










much later note: the original youtube link is defunct, its lovely water imagery now gone.. though Leonard at the Isle of Wight is not to be regretted..

[~greg]

a couple more, Violetta, mi tesoro, and it's like we're almost home,
jiggidy jig ....

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S9OUEokWR7A

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YlxUmMhJcBU

[Violet]

.






Greg... Nina Simone's version of this song is so very rich I think I might lie inside it a while... so many thanks for posting the link here… Norman, I would love to hear that beautiful voice of yours do the song straight, in its entirety… and you might consider dedicating it to the Violet you find in these romantic threads in particular… (as it seems I’m making wishes today)…

But back to our story, and to Violet… still seeking to reach out to her Georges… her fleeing Irishman… Could there be healing for Ireland itself? Violet wonders… and so offers now such song and sentiment… for the beautiful childlike and poetic souls of that beautiful emerald Isle…

… and for Georges… Violet's great love…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dVf2NCGkgTU
FULL SCREEN RECOMMENDED AS ALWAYS....










.

[Violet]

.




WELL… after all that blueness… yearning... and healing… Violet woke up with a new idea...

(Violet): Georges, my love, where ever you are, listen to this... why don't we do The Avengers?? (and I don’t even have to write it this time)… Let’s see, there’s lots of champagne… chocolates… Steed’s bowler hat and Emma Peel’s nifty 60's pantsuits -- oh, and the occasional secret agent stuff they're asked to do… I think it actually suits us quite well, my love… Oh, and the sound track doesn’t smart much either…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tRuvc0VSGw8*
FULL SCREEN IT, PIXILLATION 'N ALL

... just remember, Georges -- uh, Steed -- always keep your bowler on in times of... I couldn't quite make out what Diana Rigg said after that but it reminded me of how I speak to you sometimes, my love... you know, regarding your visor and other character paraphernalia... In any case, I do hope you come home soon, my sweet, if we can settle on a home in the midst of these rather blankish bluish greyish days...

v i o l e t (a.k.a. Mrs. Peel) xxx






* I'm afraid, upon viewing this again at this much later date (as per edit date below), I see that this link has been discontinued over at youtube... it had a wonderful montage of the avenging duo set to none other than Al Green's "Let's Stay Together"... can't beat that... but here at least is the original 60's title sequence to The Avengers, which retains the champagne popping fountain (very erotic I must say), and well, just the whole mood of the show... as to Georges and myself (I mean, as these two smartly dressed, champagne drinking, crime stopping (occasionally)... well, boulevardiers... )(to borrow some french terminolage) (the latter term, I just invented actually)... anyway, my point is... I think we go well together, don't you?... v.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n0YOlU3SMgs
FULL SCREEN

[George.Wright]

Violet,
You are blooming, all your fantasies are coming to life........

Georges.

[Violet]

.






Georges… I suppose you mean that my fantasies are coming to life on screen, which can seem more life-like than life itself sometimes… but then I’m a cinephile at heart, my sweet… my dankish-darkish prince of the upper Irish regions of my mind... In so speaking, here’s another slice of life, my pet… the kinds of things I day dream about as I look outside my window at the clouds overhead… wondering when next I might see you… when next you might return to me… so, to you my love…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UoPxDJO1bwI
YES, FULL SCREEN AGAIN...








.

[George.Wright]

Violet, my sweet,
Where have you been? I have not talked with you for ages. Anyways, I supose you have been having tea with the wicked Lord M of one ( there can only be one!! ). I would love to be your steed......oooops!! , if you would care to let me.

Dankish Georges.

[Violet]

.





My dankish prince,

My heart swells at merely the thought of you, and so to have you here with me now is a bit overwhelming... Yes, I've been lost to this blueness it seems... I'm not even sure where we are exactly... heaven perhaps, now that you're here... But you're wrong... never did I have any tea with that evilish lord of one -- in truth, he wouldn't have me. But I'm the better for it, sweet Georges, as... well, I've saved myself for... well, your steedness... Now we really can sail off on these dreamy clouds together... sitting upon on your glorious steed, my frail body wrapped around you in complete and happy surrender...

... such a nice place to rest for a while, my sweet... magically prancing upon these lovely clouds of ours...

my heart singing...

forever your v i o l e t xx
x
xx
x

xxxxxxx
xxx




x

.

[George.Wright]

Goodness Violet,
Your love is almost divine and I can feel my heart stolen by your mysterious beauty, which is wrapped in a windswept black shawl, like a Bansheee. Your limbs ache for me as mine for you and the product of this copulation in the clouds can only be lightning and the thundrous peal of the secret chord. Anyways, dear, where have you been and what were ya doing??

Georges.

[Violet]

.





Why Georges… your poetry is as luminously shining as your… well, your zesty love for me… I’m still a bit overwhelmed (and really, I should be asking you, my sweet, where you have been during all these blankish-blue-ish days that I’ve been pining for you)… But in answer to your question, I'm again reminded of Dorothy on her adventures over the rainbow, as I’ve visited places most wondrous (if partly evil seeming), and yet it’s all been rather beautiful somehow… only, all along, my only thought was… (as I clicked the heels of my imaginary sparkling-red shoes together)…

… there’s no place like Georges… there’s no place like Georges… there’s no place like Georges…


… for after everything I’ve been through… it seems it is you who are home to me, my sweet… whether you're making love to me upon that steep and treacherous bridge of no return, with me in my black veil, and you in your… well, you like to keep your visor on usually, so I guess it was your visor… (or maybe that time you actually were wearing your Natural Born Thriller’s dark glasses)… hmm... or whether we were hiding out somewhere upstate in the thirties, picking Rob Berries in the fields with our little Georges… or even when you thought, for one brief moment (when you were that sexy, well heeled detective, Mr. Gittes -- uh, Jake, I think you finally let me call you)… even then, when you mistakenly thought me guilty of –– well, I always knew that eventually you would see your way clear to the truth… and the truth is that I love you… and have always loved you… in every guise and throughout all time…

Perhaps, Georges, this is a parable of how two souls meet again and again on this rank earth… wading their way through the muck and the dankness… all so that they might one day miraculously find themselves mounted upon a glorious white steed, only instead of its heading into battle, we happily find its gallop to be weightless and etherial… just as our hearts are as light and gossamer as... well, as angels' wings… my dearest… most valiant… my truest, most passionate knight of love, and love's requitedness... my love redeemed... Sir Georges.


your
v i o l e t







[oh, the edit: "just as it is you who are home to me," a matter of subject/verb conformity that somehow escaped me... v.]