Steve Moretti's Blog

You cannot travel to Cuba without coming to face-to-face with him - on T-shirts, postcards, books, posters, paintings, hats, towels and even bikinis. He gazes at you from the back of the Cuban 3 Peso bank note which you might tip your guide after visiting through Havana's Plaza de la Revolución where a towering steel facade of his face stares down at you from a government building. If you were to visit a school you would hear children begin the day by pledging: “We will be like Che.” Of course, I am talking about Ernesto “Che” Guevara, who’s iconic image seems more like an Andy Warhol creation than a real person. (In fact, Warhol did agree to take credit for a famous, but fake 'Warhol Che Guevara’ poster created by Gerald Malanga, after the creator agreed to turn all the profits over to him.) During a recent trip to Cuba, my wife and I started to feel like Che was watching us, perhaps because once you start looking for him, you see him everywhere. At the resort we stayed at boxes of Cuban cigars and bottles of Havana Club Rum competed for space with Che’s books, memories, diaries, photo essays and hats at the souvenir shop. On the day we toured Havana, I asked our guide what she though of Che. She laughed and pointed to a building across the city that we could see from our vantage point overlooking the city. “He lived there.” She pointed to a large structure across the way, apparently a museum now but the house in used to live in years ago. I asked her about my impression that he was more an icon than a real hero, and her reaction was interesting. She asked if I had seen the movie about Che - The Motorcycle Diaries. I had not. “After I watched it,” she told us, “and saw how he slept with the wife of a man he stayed with… well.” She hesitated, perhaps afraid to share her true feelings. “I don’t think he was such a hero.” At the Varadero airport waiting to board our flight back to Canada, I browsed through some Che biographies, (available in a dozen different languages) and tried to get a quick sense of the man, which I discovered was easier said than done. Myths, Mysteries and Misconceptions All of that served as my impetus to learn more about the story behind that face. What I found was that whichever way you try to categorize Ernesto Guevara, you would probably be wrong. or at least overlooking the conflicting facets of his personality and the life he lived. If you were an author like me, looking for examples for a complex fictional character, you would do well, to study Che’s life, loves, politics, writing and the contradictions that help define him. He was born and raised in Argentina in 1928, but after being captured and executed in Bolivia at 37, Che became one of Cuba’s most idolized figures. Over one million mourners filled the Plaza de la Revolución in Havana to pay respects upon hearing news of his death. Che was trained as a medical doctor, worked as a volunteer in a leper colony but also executed as many as a 100 men in Cuba without a trial. One critic described him as a “cold-blooded” killing machine. He was deeply troubled by the poverty he saw throughout his travels in South America as a young man. He worked as a doctor in the allergy section of the General Hospital in Mexico in 1954 where he obsessed over an elderly cleaning lady he was treating and vowed to her he would “fight for a better world, for a better life for all the poor and exploited” that she represented. It was during this time in Mexico that he met Raúl and Fidel Castro. After a few long evenings in discussion with Fidel, Che Guevara found the cause he had been searching for - the Castro brothers plan to overthrow the Batista dictatorship in Cuba. He trained with them as a guerrilla fighter, but his official role in the plan was to be the medic. And yet as even as an sympathetic physician, he did not hesitate to shoot his enemies. and eventually wrote a manual on guerrilla warfare - La Guerra de Guerrillas, which became a blueprint for armed insurrection around the world. He detested inequality in all forms, particularly apartheid and discrimination based on gender and economic status. He earned praise from Nelson Mandela who called him “an inspiration for every human being who loves freedom.” However, Che advocated violence to achieve those freedoms, and to maintain the ‘collective good.’ A black and white photograph becomes an icon Perhaps the most ironic of all of Che Guevara’s legacies, is his face itself. He was radically devoted to the principals of Marxism and committed to anti-imperialism as the means to achieve the fairest distribution of wealth to every person. Idealistic to a fault (to put a positive spin on it) his life ended violently in aid of Bolivian revolutionaries trying to overthrow the government and create a socialist state. He wrote dozens of books and papers extolling the evils of capitalism. He was a very well read man and a prolific author of dozens books and as well as essays, articles, diaries and speeches, most of which were very personal, and extolled his political ideas and beliefs. The contradictions of the man - poet vs. warrior, murderer vs. angel to the poor, guerrilla vs. philosopher and his conflicting qualities of logic and violence, love and hate all transformed a simple photo of him taken in 1960 in Havana by Cuban photographer Alberto Korda, into a symbol that would be understood in by people of all languages around the world. And of course, make many of them a nice profit. The photograph was snapped on March 5, 1960 during Fidel Castro’s eulogy to the victims of the La Coubre explosion in Havana Harbor. Korda captured the picture on frame number 40 of a roll of black and white photographs he was taking of the event with his Leica camera. The 31 year old Che appeared for only a few seconds during the speech, and Korda remembers he was startled by what he saw in his viewfinder. Years later he remarked “I am still started by the impact… it shakes me so powerfully.” Over the the following years Korda's photo made its way around the world. The stoic image of Che, which Korda said showed “absolute implacability as well as anger and pain” has been called the most copied and reproduced photographs in history. In 1968 Jim Fitzpatrick in England used it to create a two tone portrait based on the photo. He released it copyright free for use by revolutionary groups in Europe. The photograph and the two tone portrait became were used to make to millions of dollars by the capitalists Che detested as they printed, digitized, embroidered, tattooed, painted, silk-screened, sculpted or sketched his image on… well just about everything. Whether all this commerce based on his image is a fitting tribute to the man, or a slap in the face to the ideals he fought and died for, is a question still hotly debated. Che was a man that lived life devoted to high ideals, but unrealistically so. Che was a teacher and a poet, yet wielded a machine gun as effectively as a pen. He fought for the poor and disadvantaged, saw everyone as equals, but then murdered those who stood in his way - apparently with no regrets. He is the gold standard for a character study that has all the colours of good and evil and everything in between.

Like his great, great, great, great grandmother, Mary, Queen of Scots, Charles Edward Stuart sailed to Scotland from France in an effort to restore the British crown for their family. Both Mary and Charles were young (she 19, he 24) when they landed in Scotland, and began their unlikely campaigns to put a Stuart back on the thrones of England and Scotland. Both would fail, although Mary’s son, James I/VI, would eventually become King. But before the last fighting Stuart even touched Scottish soil, Charles faced a fierce battle at sea and would have to decide where his true destiny lay . . . 9 July 1745 - Off the south-west coast of England There was nothing Charles Edward Stuart could do but watch in horror. Or perhaps pray for divine intervention. The sleek English man of War, the HMS Lion, its 64 guns at the ready, was now within pistol shot of the slower L’elisabeth, loaded with troops and supplies destined for an invasion of Scotland. L’elisabeth and the 16 gun privateer, Le Dutillet had hoped to avoid the British navy as they skirted the coast of England around the Lizard peninsula. The two ships had sailed undetected up until now, navigating towards the Western Isles of Scotland. Prince Charles had spent almost a year putting this convoy together to restore the British crown on behalf of his father, James Francis Edward Stuart. The Lion fired first. one of its heavy 33 pound guns blasted across the deck of L’elisabeth, decapitating an unlucky soldier. L’elisabeth, while an older vessel, had even more guns and responded by firing a shot that narrowly missed the Lion’s topmast. Charles, on board Le Dutillet, disguised with a full bushy beard, needed to draw the English war ship away if he was to have any hope of saving L’elisabeth, loaded with 700 volunteers from the Irish Regiment de Clare along with 2,000 broadswords, 10 kegs of gunpowder and 20 cannons. The soldiers and munitions had been secured to launch the Rising in Scotland he had planned for over a year with the support of his uncle, Louis XIV, King of France. “We need to help!” the prince shouted to the Aeneas MacDonald, one of only a handful of men on Le Dutillet, which sat nearly a hundred yards away from the two battling ships. “We need to draw them away,” he yelled. The captain of le Dutillet responded by maneuvering his ship around so that its rear gun pointed directly at the Lion. However, before it could be prepared to fire, the stern cannon on the Lion, which pointed directly at them, shot three rounds between the masts of le Dutillet, piercing its sails with grape shot. “Hurry!” Charles urged the gunner, trying desperately to load powder into the rear cannon of Le Dutillet. Before he could finish, there was another blast from the Lion. A cannonball ripped through the upper deck of the Le Dutillet, opening a wide gash. Charles was undeterred. “Return fire!” he screamed. The gunner finished ramming the lead ball in place. Another gunner adjusted the angle of the cannon, calculating the distance to the Lion. “Fire” the gunner yelled, stepping back and fixing his gaze on the enemy ship. The cannon fired and within seconds, the water a few yards from the stern of the Lion exploded. In response, one of the Lion’s guns fired again, grazing the bow of Le Dutillet. The captain had seen enough. “Retraite!” he called out, and the Prince’s ship turned toward the open sea. “No! No!” The Prince yelled. But the the captain realized he was no match for a heavily armed, British man of War with skilled gunners manning each gun. As Le Dutillet sailed out of range, Charles watched the fierce battle between the L'elisabeth and the Lion unfold. They pounded each other relentlessly. After hours of fighting, casualties were mounting on both ships, with each sustaining heavy damage. The Lion’s mizzen top and topmast had both been shot away, Captain Brett and all his lieutenants were wounded, and his sailing master’s right arm shot off. Finally, the guns went quiet as the sun set low in the sea. Crews on both ships were dousing flames. “We have to turn back,” Aeneas whispered to Charles. L’elizabeth listed lower and lower in the dark waters. As as banker, the prince thought Aeneas was likely concerned more about costs and liabilities than the future of the Stuart dynasty. “Wait,” the Prince said. The Lion was pulling away, setting its rudder towards Plymouth. It was badly damaged, and had lost nearly sixty men. Another one hundred were wounded, and with no masts and damage to the hull, it would need to be refitted before it could fight again. The prince ordered Le Dutillet to pull up beside L’elizabeth. It was now a smouldering death ship. Fifty-seven men lay dead, including the commander, Captain Dau. One hundred and seventy-five were wounded, many severely. The ship was riding low in the water, and it would be a challenge just to navigate it back to France without sinking. “Our mission has failed,” George Kelly told the Prince. The other seven men on board le Dutillet nodded in agreement. “We must return home, and take stock of our situation.” The prince surveyed the carnage on board the faltering L’elizabeth. The wounded and the dead, lay everywhere, strewn about like bloody rag dolls. The once proud man of War was now reduced to broken shell of a ship, lucky to still float above the waves. Without a captain, and in danger of sinking, it would have to return to France. “We shall proceed without her,” the prince announced upon stepping back on board Le Dutillet. We have not taken a single step on British soil, and already we’ve lost all our men. And all our weapons. “Impossible!” shouted Aeneas. “There are only eight of us!” “Indeed,” Charles replied. “Myself and the best seven men any prince could hope to lead.” The older men were quiet as they listened to Charles. To restore his father to the throne of Scotland and England, after seeing the destruction just one British man of War could wreak on them, seemed like a fantasy only a young fool would propose. “Why?” George Kelly finally asked, reading the faces of the men surrounding Charles. “Why would you even consider continuing? We have not taken a single step on British soil, and already we’ve lost all our men. And all our weapons.” Charles considered his response. These men were older and more experienced than him. Some had military training, others knew politics and finance. None however, would understand that as the Jacobite Prince of Wales and the true heir to the British throne, his existence would be meaningless if he did not try every means at his disposal to restore the Stuarts to the throne. “That our task would be easy, was not to be expected,” he began. “That you would waver in your belief that the elector of Hanover, George, is an imposter with no legitimate claim to the crown, is also not what I expected from men of your stature.” His words were falling flat on the dispirited group, as they listened to the agony of the wounded men on their sister ship only a few away. The choppy waters of the English channel bobbed against the ships, with persistence. “That our task would be easy, was not to be expected,” Charles raised his voice. “You will form the council of the new King, James the Third of England, the Eighth of Scotland. You will become powerful men, and your children will inherit your privilege,” he said, his voicing rising. “We have Highland clan chiefs waiting for us even now, with over 5,000 men ready to fight the moment we touch the soil of Scotland. This is no time for timidity.” The group of seven shuffled uneasily. Finally, one of them, John William O’Sullivan, spoke up in support of the prince. “If we turn back now, we will all be labelled cowards and mocked as ridiculous - as failures,” O’Sullivan shouted above the cries of the wounded men nearby. “Is that how you would like to be remembered?” Charles was quiet. He knew he was the last hope of the Stuart dynasty. Leading the Rising in Scotland felt like it was truly his destiny. It was certainly his only choice, but his doubts were growing. If he could not convince this small group of men to follow him, how could he hope to lead an army of thousands against one of the most powerful armies on Earth? If he could not fulfill his destiny his life would cease to have any meaning. He awaited with trepidation, a verdict from the group. ------- Prince Charles won the group over and continued on to Scotland. He and the 'Seven Men of Moidart,' (named after their landing in Scotland at Kinlochmoidart) were greeted by Highland chiefs and soon began their struggle to put Charles’s father on the throne as James III/VIII. Despite the odds against him, his inexperience and young age, Charles and his Jacobite followers came within 100 miles of London in late 1745. Some historians think he could have seized the crown with a final push, catching the English off-guard with their defenses scattered across Europe and the colonies. But it was not to be, and Charles’s war council, older men with control over the Highland battalions that fought for him, convinced him not to proceed on London, but instead to return and hold Scotland. He reluctantly complied, and after some limited successes, the Jacobite cause, and the Stuart quest for the throne was permanently extinguished with the Battle of Culloden in April, 1746. Charles escaped back to France, and died bitter and defeated at the age of 67 in Rome, the city of his birth. His brother, had become a cardinal, forsaking any chance of producing a legitimate Stuart heir. The Prince was buried in Italy and his remains set in a crypt at St. Peter's Basillica in the Vatican, far from the island he coveted and where he is still best remembered.

I was captivated recently with the new Mary Queen of Scots film epic, and its dramatic portray of perhaps the best known of all Scottish Queens. Mary's royal roots extend back the the 14th century when a Stuart (or ‘Stewart’ in those days) married the only daughter of the warrior king, Robert the Bruce. Their son, Robert I, was the first of a long-line of Stuart Kings that would end, more or less, with the failed effort by Bonnie Prince Charles’ to restore his father, James III/VIII, to the thrones of England and Scotland. And as I watched the moving portrayal of Mary by Irish actress Saoirse Ronan, I wondered how much of this incredible tale was true and even more interesting, what was her connection to Prince Charles Edward Stuart? Interesting to me because he is a central character in my Song for a Lost Kingdom novel series. I had never made the connection between Charles and Mary Queen of Scots before, but turns out she is his great, great, great, great aunt. Facts vs artistic license The movie got all the main ‘facts’ right, with certainly stretched them dramatic effect. Historians vehemently claim that Mary and Elizabeth never met face-to-face, but in the movie they do - in a hidden forest cottage. It is one of the most memorable scenes in the film, and one of the best written and acted scenes I can recall in any movie. (You can read or download the screenplay by Beau Willimon here. The scene of the two Queens meeting begins on Page 107.) The part of Elizabeth is played by Margot Robbie, who sternly cautions Mary “No one can know we meet.” While this scene really, really annoys historical purists who can find no record of such a meeting, it seemed plausible to me that the two women could have met and not shared the details with the men around them. I guess that is why I am a writer and not an historian. The entire movie had been a chess game between these two women who at various times during the film refer to each other as ‘sister,’ even though their councillors tell them they are not sisters. (Fact check - Mary was Elizabeth’s first cousin, once removed. Mary’s grandmother Margaret Tudor, was the older sister of King Henry VIII, Elizabeth’s father. That made King James V of Scotland, Mary’s father, Elizabeth’s first cousin.) The lineages and the relationships are central to the story line which centers on Mary’s claim to the throne, and Elizabeth’s worry that her cousin has as much claim as she does. Despite the pleas of Elizabeth’s Privy Councillors, particularly Secretary of State William Cecil, to marry and produce an heir, Elizabeth will do no such thing. During her meeting on the big screen with Mary, Elizabeth explains one reason why she seeks no man to wed: “I am more man than woman now. The throne has made me so.” Along comes James By the time this meeting took place, Mary had already given birth to a son, James Charles Stuart, who became King of Scotland at 13 months of age, when Mary was forced to abdicate the Scottish crown due to suspicions around her involvement in the death of her husband Henry Stuart, Lord Darnley (another Stuart, and a cousin). James had a tumultuous upbringing. His father was murdered and his mother imprisoned - all before his first birthday. Those in charge of his upbringing, raised him as a Protestant, which likely helped his case for eventual succession to the English Throne. His mother must have seemed like a mythical figure to him. He had last seen her when he was barely 10 months old during her brief visit to Stirling Castle. Afterward, she was abducted, raped, forced to marry, imprisoned and eventually beheaded in 1587 after nearly 20 years of captivity. James, a decedent of both the Stuart and Tudor houses, became King of England following Elizabeth’s death in 1603. The last child of King Henry VIII was dead, and now the great grandson of his sister was proclaimed King in London, just a few hours after Elizabeth quietly passed away after forty-five years on the throne without producing an heir. James is remembered for his personal union of the Crowns of England and Scotland, as he was the King of both realms (James I / VI respectively). He called himself “King of Great Britain” though this title was not recognized legally, even though he splashed it on proclamations, coins and letters. James may or may not have been gay, possibly taking two dukes and an earl as lovers. In any case, his wife Anne of Denmark gave him seven children (plus two stillbirths and at least three miscarriages). James was an author, a patron of the arts and sponsored an English translation of the Bible from Greek, Latin, Hebrew and Aramaic sources. He directed the translation to reflect the structure and beliefs of the Church of England. The King James Bible has been described as on the on the most important books ever of English culture, with far reaching influence in shaping the English-speaking world. Charles and Charles James was King of Scotland for 57 years, and King of England for 22, mostly productive years. He pushed for, but never achieved political union between England and Scotland, but did unite their Crowns James died a few months before his 59th birthday during a violent attack of dysentery. Henry, the Prince of Wales, and next in line to the throne was regarded as a bright and promising successor. Unfortunately, Henry died of typhoid fever and his younger brother Charles, who strongly believed in the divine right of Kings, became the heir apparent. Charles, was crowned King of England, Scotland and Ireland in early 1626 almost a year after the death of his father. His Roman Catholic wife, Henrietta Maria, sister of Louis XIII of France, refused to attend such a Protestant religious ceremony. Charles reign was tumultuous. He prorogued Parliament for eleven years and sought to raise money through a series of unpopular taxes, the granting of monopolies (one for soap) and other ill-advised schemes. Eventually the Crown was bankrupt, even as he waged war against Scotland. He faced trouble in Ireland, and when he entered the House of Commons in January 1642 to arrest MPs he thought guilty of treason, the end was near. No other English sovereign had ever set foot in Parliament, and the country quickly devolved into a civil war until Charles was arrested, indicted for high treason and like his grandmother, Mary, beheaded. (However unlike Mary, Charles died with one clean strike by an experienced ‘headsman.’ She was not so fortunate.) A much loved hedonist takes over Shortly after the execution, Scotland proclaimed Charles’ son, another Charles, King of Great Britain, France and Ireland, provided he accept Presbyterianism throughout Britain and Ireland. Charles II time as a King proved even more difficult than that of his father. He survived the abolition of the monarchy under Oliver Cromwell, and ruled as King of England though the Great Plague, the Great Fire of London and numerous wars. His wife bore him no live children, but he did acknowledge at least 12 illegitimate children from various women and was celebrated for his liveliness and hedonism, following years of puritanism under the republic led by Cromwell. On his deathbed in 1685 he converted to Catholicism and, the Crown passed to his brother, James who had converted to the Roman Catholic faith many years earlier. James II (VII in Scotland) would rule for just over three years after the birth of his son James Francis Edward, a Catholic heir to the throne which proved to the tipping point to those who feared a Catholic dynasty. James was deposed within weeks, and after a short but unsuccessful campaign against his protestant son-in-law and nephew, William of Orange, he fled to France with his infant son and second wife, Mary. End of the Stuarts dynasty. Or a new hope? The struggle of the Stuarts to gain and hold the crowns of Scotland and England had left a long and bloody trail behind. James II, exiled in France died in 1701. His son, James Francis Edward was recognized as king by Louis XIV of France. Those that still supported the Stuarts in England and Scotland, dubbed Jacobites, recognized him as James III / VIII. James Francis Edward was sneered at in England as the 'Old Pretender' after his failed attempts to reclaim the throne in 1708 and again with the short lived invasion of Scotland in 1715. But the Stuarts and their supporters would not let go that easily, and with the birth of James's son, Charles Edward in 1720 a new generation was born that would continue the struggle. 'Bonnie' Prince Charlie would lead another invasion of of Scotland on behalf of his aging father. Here's a quick guide of the Stuart legacy, from Mary to the Charles Edward. In my next post, I'll look at the how Charles Edward Stuart and Mary, Queen of Scots - both determined Stuarts with an infuriating range of strengths and weaknesses, were not so very different from each other.

Mainz, Germany - 3 May 1450 Johann Fust studied the curious man standing before him. He waved his arms wildly as he spoke with excitement about the secrets of his Hof zum Humbrecht workshop near the town square. The man’s full beard reached halfway down his chest adding to his wizard-like appearance. “Herr Gutenberg, I appreciate your enthusiasm,” Fust began, “but I need to know more about this idea of yours before I could consider giving you a loan.” “Of course,” Johannes Gutenberg replied. “I call it the marriage of enterprise and art.” He handed Fust a stack of vellum pamphlets. “Maybe this will help you understand the fruit of their union.” Fust read the dark lettering on the top sheaf: Die Pluemen der Tugent aus der druckerpresse von Johannes Gutenberg Fust turned it over and read what appeared to be a poem. The lettering was neat and precise. Whoever inscribed it paid careful attention to spacing and margins. But what was more interesting was the number of identical copies. Fust scratched his head. “There are seventy-five,” Gutenberg said with a grin. “An another three hundred are being finished in my workshop as we speak.” Fust raised his hand. “A druckerpresse? Is that like a schraubenpresse for making wine?” “Very close, but much better for printing.” “Printing?” Fust repeated, taking the stack of sheaf's and placing them on his desk. He moved behind it and sat on his wooden chair. “Johannes,” he started, “tell me the truth. Who lettered these? And how did you pay? This has to be worth at least thirty guilders. No?” “Nichts!” Gutenberg replied. “You paid the scribes nothing?” “That is my secret. My Aventur und Kunst,” Gutenberg replied. “These pamphlets were printed today in my shop on my druckerpresse.” A machine? Fust thought. A wine-press that could produce in a morning what would take a month to do at the monastery? Could such a device print a whole book, one that a Bishop or a Prince might purchase? “Please, sit and explain to me," Fust said. "Why do you need a loan if you have already built such a machine?” Gutenberg sat down on the bench at the side of the Fust’s desk. “I need better tools, and a way to improve the whole process, especially the casting of letters.” Fust was intrigued, if not confused. “If I provide the funds, will you share your secret? And how much capital do you need?” Gutenberg sat silent for a moment, looking off with a blank stare. Fust was not sure about this old man sitting in his office, but he had an inkling there was something special here. “Eight hundred,” Gutenberg finally replied. “If you could loan me 800 guilders, I can buy tools that will make the casting of letters and symbols faster and more consistent. I am close to perfecting the molding process.” “Eight hundred guilders?” Fust exclaimed? “Are you mad? A man of your years, taking out such a loan?” “I am fifty-two, Herr Fust,” Gutenberg replied. “And I am confident that I will be able to print a whole book soon.” “If I provide the funds, will you share your secrets?" Johann Fust let the words sink in. “A book? You mean like the Bible?” Gutenberg smiled. “Yes, that would be a very special to to print.” Fust recalled that the contract he had just negotiated with the Archbishop-elector of Mainz for new bibles at a cost of 500 guilders each. The order for 10 bibles would take two years to complete by monks in the Bavarian monastery at a total cost to the church of 5,000 guilders. “If you get these new tools, how long would it take to create a book, say like the Bible?” Fust asked casually. “Good question,” Gutenberg replied. “Let’s see….” he started to count with this fingers, looking around the chamber. “Once we have all the type cast, set into galleys and locked into chases, and we have say, five men working on it, we should be able to do about 200 copies - maybe in two weeks, a month at most.” Fust was astounded. “Oh, I see,” he replied as if the miracle being described was no more remarkable than the flask of wine sitting on his desk. “I think perhaps I could provide you with a loan, but there are two conditions.” “Yes?” Gutenberg asked. “What conditions?” “Interest on the loan at six per cent per annum,” Fust started. “payable in full with the interest twenty-four months from today.” “That is reasonable, Herr Fust.” “And also one other condition,” Fust added, turning his attention to the open ledger on his desk. “You must pledge security.” “Security?” “Against the value of the loan - 800 guilders,” Fust replied. “I want your printing equipment, as a guarantee of repayment.” At this Johannes Gutenberg stood up from the bench. He hesitated a moment before speaking. “I fear that is not something I can agree to. I am not a fool.” “That you are not, Johannes,” Fust replied, without looking up from his ledger. “But you will not find better terms in Mainz or anywhere in Franconia.” “You may be correct, but I must try.” With that Johannes Gutenberg turned and walked out of the chamber, leaving Fust to wonder if he had just lost the deal of this life. Fust prevails Johannes Fust had no reason to worry that day. It wasn’t long before Johannes Gutenberg agreed to Fust's terms. Gutenberg was a much better at invention than business. Fust, a wealthy moneylender, made the deal that would indeed eventually change his life. Gutenberg was unable to pay back the 800 guilders and by December of 1452 went back for another 800 guilders and agreed to make Fust a partner in his new printing business. Gutenberg also agreed to hire Petrus Schöffer as an apprentice and together they perfected the processes that Gutenberg had spent much of his life researching and developing. Like a 15th century Steve Jobs, Johannes Gutenberg was able to combine and improve on the existing technology of the day to build something entirely new. His system simplified the overwhelming complexity of printing, which a system that could turn out books quickly and cheaply. Gutenberg focused most of his attention on a way to cast and assemble moveable type. His father was involved in goldsmithing, and young Gutenberg grew up learning about metals, alloys and casting. He grew interested in printing, possibly through stories of work being done in the Netherlands with wooden letters and ink. When he tried it, he realized the limitations of carving the letters from wood, the poor quality of inks currently avaialbe and the laborious nature of hand printing, since no printing press existed. Gutenberg came up with his ‘secret’ - using wooden letters at the end of a small stick to make an impression in soft metal or sand, then filling the mold with a molten metal alloy to form reusable type that could be assembled into lines and then pages. He also perfected an oil-based ink mixture that would dry quickly and be the right viscosity. Finally, he borrowed the techniques of wine makers on the Rhine for pressing grapes, building a machine that pressed sheets of vellum onto an inked page of metal type. The two videos below show the processes Gutenberg developed in action. Fust and Schöffer take over Gutenberg poured his heart and soul into perfecting the process, working closely with his young apprentice Petrus Schöffer. Together they produced a masterpiece, the ‘Forty-two line Bible” early in 1454, requiring Gutenberg to borrow even more money to complete the project. It was truly a work of art. A copy of the Bible from that first run of approximately 180 copies is worth $30 million USD today. By 1455 Fust had received no repayment of his loans, and decided to sue Gutenberg. On November 6, 1455 in the refectory of the Barefooted Friars of Mainz, Fust won his case against Gutenberg for 2026 guilders - the principal and interest owed to him. He was awarded Gutenberg’s printing business, equipment and half of all printed copies of the Bible. Petrus Schöffer had married Fust’s only daughter Christina earlier that year, and now the two men took over from Gutenberg whom they had effectively bankrupt and put out of business. Although Fust and Schöffer became very successful printers, it Gutenberg who was recognized after his death at 71 for achievements in publishing. In 1502 he was hailed as the inventor of typography and interest in him began to grow steadily. History records the work of Gutenberg as one the most important technological innovation of the millennium. Some call him the father of the information revolution which profoundly changed the course of human history. As for Johann Fust, he is remembered only as a footnote. It took time, but eventually history gave Gutenberg his ultimate revenge.

London, 14 December 1843 The morning dawned full of promise for Charles John Dickens. At the ripe old age of 31 he was making his first foray into the frightening but potentially lucrative world of self-publishing. He was excited, even celebratory over his new work which today would finally be born and hopefully net him the princely sum of 1,000 pounds sterling. He hastened across the Strand, one of the busiest streets in London, on his way to the print shop of Edward Chapman and William Hall. Preliminary proof copies of his five stave novella A Christmas Carol, awaited his inspection. With his blessing the print run of 6,000 copies that he was financing out of what little funds remained to his name would proceed forthwith. Time was running short to have the printing and finishing completed the week before Christmas in time for holiday readers and perhaps more importantly, holiday buyers. Though Charles longed for financial success, it was the content of his new manuscript that most raised his spirits. He had spent six weeks weeping, laughing and weeping yet again as he scribbled the story out on sixty-eight pages of his leather notebook using black India ink and a fresh quill. At night he took long walks through the darkest streets of London setting the scenes of the story in his head. The tale flowed from his mind to his hand quickly and he found himself making only a few scratched out corrections. He had no outline and produced only one draft before handing his notebook over to be set into lead type. Charles had burned with outrage against the rich men he had seen in Manchester and London over the past few months. He thoroughly despised these “sleek, slobbering, bow-paunched, overfed, apoplectic snorting cattle” who built their wealth on the backs of child-labourers, and the starvation of families who powered, but did not share in the wealth of Britain’s prosperity. The sight of families starving in the streets of Manchester and in the slums of London was something he could not easily vanquish from his thoughts. His anger spilled nightly onto the pages of his notebook as he completed the story. He had no outline for the story that filled his head and produced only one draft He hoped his simple tale of one old man’s conversion from greed to generosity, following him from covetousness to compassion, might strike a “sledgehammer blow” on behalf of the poor with “twenty-thousand times the force” of any government pamphlet. He promised this in so many words to his old friend Douglas Jerrold. Today he hoped it would become reality. Despite his honourable intentions, Charles really needed to see a profit - quickly. His very pregnant wife Catherine was doing her heroic best to look after three young children with another due within a month. He knew it was not easy for her as they weathered the feast and famine income cycle he realized as an author. This morning he hurried past the poulterer and the fruiterer, their shops overflowing with treasures he could only dream about. He was in debt. His bank account overdrawn and Christmas might prove a very hungry time if this new venture floundered. As he reached the shop, Charles grew anxious to see the first copies of his little book. His orders to Mr. Chapman and Mr. Hall had been precise: fancy binding stamped in gold letters on both spine and front cover, gilded edge on the paper all around, four full-page hand-coloured etchings and four woodcuts, all by drawn by his good friend John Leech. And of course, half-title and title pages in bright green and red with hand-coloured green endpapers to match. The weather that morning was unusually warm for London in December, well above freezing, and almost balmy. Perhaps it was an omen that a book set on a cold Christmas Eve in the same city might fail to live up to his lofty expectations. “Gads!” he exclaimed with alarm as he surveyed the drab title page. It had turned out as a dull olive colour. The shop’s proprietors, William and Edward watched sternly, but said nothing as he continued his examination. They had expressed no faith in this project, but since Charles was paying the printing costs, he could do as he saw fit. “No, no,” Charles said as he turned the pages, reading passages, shaking his head and finally thumbing all the way though to the book. “This will certainly not suffice,” he added, growing even more alarmed as he touched the end pages and noticed the green tint smudged off on his fingers. Finally, he put the book down, glanced up at the sooty ceiling of the print shop and released the deep sigh of disappointment that been building up inside him. “Gentlemen, although I appreciate your efforts, we have much work to do,” he began. “We will start with the cover page which we need to change to red and blue. And I also noticed some text that needs to be reset. And the green endpapers are chalky. Can we fix that?” William Hall raised an eyebrows at his business partner Edward sitting on a stool. Then turned to Charles. “And those colour plates? Are you certain they add sufficient value to justify such expense? Four plates will add significant cost.” Charles snorted with indignation. “As you are forcing me to provide for all the costs, Mr. Hall, I’m unclear as to what motivates your concern? Of course we will keep the four plates, exactly as Mr. Leech sketched them.” Edward Chapman finished an entry on his ledger. Without looking up, still holding his quill he asked. “And what price do you propose we charge? From what I calculate - printing, paper, drawings, engravings, steel plates, paper for plates, colouring, binding, incidentals, our fee, and advertising - I believe ten shillings should cover all your costs and net your a tidy profit.” “No, sir, I think not,” Charles responded. “I promised Catherine a beautiful little gift book. One that would open hearts to make the world richer for those who have nothing. I do not want to set a price that impedes a wide readership.” Edward climbed off his stool and took a stride towards Charles. His displeasure was evident. “Mr. Dickens, while you may be in the business of running a charity, we are men of business. It is not our mission to change the world.” Charles smiled. “Five shillings, Mr. Chapman. That is the price you shall charge for my book. You will be paid, I assure you. And you and your business associate will regret your lack of faith in me. Your narrow focus will not serve you well in Christmases yet to come.” William held a hand up. “You are paying all the costs so we shan’t argue further, Mr. Dickens. Give us your alterations to the text. We will have them have the type set and make the other changes you request. But I must ask, one last time. Are you quite certain of a run of 6,000 copies? It seems overly optimistic.” Charles had faith in his story, though he doubted his own business acumen. However, he had told Catherine he would print six thousand copies and that is what he would do. “Yes, Mr. Chapman. Six thousand. And you shall be sold out by Christmas Eve!” And the numbers are in… Charles Dickens was right. All 6,000 copies of that first printing of A Christmas Carol sold out by Christmas Eve of 1843. Today, an original copy from that run is worth at $25,000 USD with some copies in good condition fetching as much as $35,000. Dickens’ ‘beautiful’ little book has never been out of print. In the first six months of 1844 it was reprinted eight times. By the end of the year, it had also been adapted for the stage with eight productions playing in London. But despite the success of the book, Charles' goal of netting £1000 pounds from the first run fell well short. Because he insisted on colour plates, elaborate finishes and stood firm on a selling price of only 5 shillings, his payment for the first printing amounted to a meager £230. Even after one year of robust sales he realized a profit of only £744. Print was only the beginning Of course A Christmas Carol eventually became a play and then a film. The first movie version was produced in 1901, and others followed in 1908, 1910, 1913 and every few years afterwards. The most critically acclaimed version remains the 1951 black & white classic with Alastair Sim as Scrooge. Other adaptations continued with everything from the Muppets to the Flinstones to Bill Murray’s 1988 comedic transgression Scrooged. And at least a dozen new movie versions were produced over the last 30 years. From Broadway shows to stage plays, mimes, radio plays, TV and film productions, A Christmas Carol along with its themes, characters and expressions are now rooted deeply in Western culture and our celebration of Christmas. As for Charles Dickens’ self-publishing career, it was a bust. He did switch to Bradbury and Evans, publishing rivals of Chapman and Hall, the London publishers who had so little faith in his little book. After that experience though, he left the world of self-publishing to concentrate on creating some of the most loved books of the English language. Interesting though, A Christmas Carol remains his most popular work and every Christmas we have the chance to relive Charles’ inspiration one more time.

London, 14 December 1843 The morning dawned full of promise for Charles John Dickens. At the ripe old age of 31, he was making his first foray into the ghastly, but potentially lucrative world of self-publishing. He was excited, even celebratory over his new work which today would finally be born and hopefully net him the princely sum of 1,000 pounds sterling. He hastened across the Strand, one of the busiest streets in London, on his way to the print shop of Edward Chapman and William Hall. Preliminary proof copies of his five stave novella A Christmas Carol, awaited his inspection. Once he gave his blessing, the print run of 6,000 copies he was financing out of what little funds remained to his name would proceed forthwith. Time was running short for the printing and binding to be completed in time for holiday readers and perhaps more importantly, holiday purchasers. Though Charles longed for financial success, it was the content of his new manuscript that most raised his spirits. He had spent six weeks weeping, laughing and weeping yet again as he scribbled the story out on sixty-eight pages of his leather notebook using black India ink and a fresh quill. At night he took long walks through the darkest streets of London, setting the scenes of the story in his head. The tale flowed from his mind to his hand quickly and he found himself making only a few scratched out corrections. He had no outline and produced only one draft before handing the handwritten notebook over to be set into lead type. Charles burned with outrage against the rich men he had seen in Manchester and London over the past few months. He thoroughly despised these “sleek, slobbering, bow-paunched, overfed, apoplectic snorting cattle” who built their wealth on the backs of child labourers, and the starvation of families who powered, but did not share in the wealth of Britain’s post industrial prosperity. The sight of families starving in the streets of Manchester and in the slums of London was something he could not easily vanquish from his thoughts. His anger spilled nightly onto the pages of his notebook as he completed the story. He had no outline for the story that filled his head and produced only one draft He hoped his simple tale of one old man’s conversion from greed to generosity and from covetousness to compassion, might strike a “sledgehammer blow” on behalf of the poor with “twenty-thousand times the force” of any government pamphlet. He promised this to his old friend Douglas Jerrold, and today it he hoped it might become reality. Despite his honourable intentions, Charles needed to see a profit, quickly. His very pregnant wife Catherine was doing her heroic best to look after three young children with another due within a month. He knew it was not easy for her as they weathered the feast or famine income cycle he realized as an author. This morning he hurried past the poulterer and the fruiterer overflowing with treasures he could only dream about. He was in debt. His bank account overdrawn and Christmas might prove a very hungry time if this new publishing venture floundered. As he reached the shop, Charles grew anxious to see the first copies of his little book. His orders to Chapman and Hall had been precise: fancy binding stamped in gold letters on both spine and front cover, gilded edge on the paper all around, four full-page hand-coloured etchings and four woodcuts, all by drawn by his good friend John Leech. And of course half-title and title pages in bright green and red and hand coloured green endpapers to match. The weather that morning was unusually warm for London in December, well above freezing, and almost balmy. Perhaps it was an omen that a book set on a cold Christmas Eve might fail to live up to his lofty expectations. “Gads!” he exclaimed with alarm as he surveyed the drab title page. It had turned out as a dull olive colour. The shop’s proprietors, William and Edward watched sternly, but said nothing, as he continued his inspection. They had expressed no faith in this project, but since Charles was paying, he could do as he pleased. “No, no,” Charles said as he flipped the pages, reading passages and shaking his head and finally thumbing all the way though to the book. “This will certainly not suffice,” he added, growing more alarmed as touched the end pages and noticed that the green tint smudged and dusted off on his fingers. Finally, he put the book down, glanced up at the sooty ceiling of the print shop and released a deep sigh that been building up inside. “Gentlemen, although I appreciate your efforts, we have much work to do,” he began. “We will start with the cover page which I would prefer to see in red and blue. And I also noticed some text that needs to be reset, and the green endpapers are chalky. Can we change that to yellow?” William Hall raised an eyebrows at his business partner Edward sitting on a stool. Then turned to Charles. “And those colour plates? Are you certain they add sufficient value to justify such expense? Four plates add significant cost.” Charles snorted with indignation. “As you are forcing me to pay all the costs, I’m unclear as to what motivates your concern? Of course we will keep the four plates, exactly as Leech sketched them.” Edward Chapman finished an entry on his ledger. Without looking up, still holding his quill he asked. “And what price do you propose we charge? From what I calculate - printing, paper, drawings, engravings, steel plates, paper for plates, colouring, binding, incidentals, advertising and our fee - ten shillings should cover all your costs and net your a tidy profit.” “No, sir, I think not,” Charles responded. “I promised Catherine a beautiful little gift book. A book that would open hearts to make the world richer for those who have nothing. I do not want a price that impedes a wide readership.” Edward climbed off his stool and took a stride towards Charles. His displeasure was evident. “Sir, while you may be in the business of running a charity, we are men of business. It is not our mission to change the world.” Charles smiled. “Five shillings, Edward. That is the price you shall charge for my little book. You will be paid, I assure you. And You will regret your lack of faith in me and your narrow focus will not serve you well in Christmas' yet to come.” William held a hand up. “Charles, you are paying all the costs so we shan’t argue further. Give us your alterations to the text. We will have them have them set and make the other changes you request. But I must ask, you again. Are you certain of a run of 6,000 copies? It seems overly optimistic.” Charles had faith in his story, though he doubted his business acumen. However, he had told Catherine he would print six thousand copies and that is what he intended to do. “Yes, sir, six thousand. And you shall be sold out by Christmas Eve!” And the numbers are in… Charles Dickens was right. Indeed all 6,000 copies of that first printing of A Christmas Carol sold out by Christmas Eve of 1843. Today, an original copy from that run is worth at least $25,000 USD with some fetching copies in good condition fetching as much as $35,000 USD. Dickens’ ‘beautiful’ little book has never been out of print. In the first six months of 1844 it was reprinted at least least eight times. By the end of the year it had also been adapted for the stage with eight productions playing in London. But despite the success, Charles goal of netting £1000 pounds from the first run fell well short. Because he insisted on colour plates, elaborate finishes and stood firm on a price of only 5 shillings, his payment for the first printing was a meager £230. Even after the one year, he realized only £744 in profit. Print was only the beginning Of course A Christmas Carol eventually became a film, with the first version produced in 1901, and others following in 1908, 1910, 1913 and every few years afterwards. The most watched version remains the 1951 black and white classic with Alastair Sim as Scrooge. Other versions and adaptations continued with everything from the Muppets to the Flinstones and Bill Murray’s 1988 comedic transgression Scrooged and many more over the last 30 years since. From Broadway shows, to stage plays, mimes, radio plays, TV and film versions, A Christmas Carol and its themes, characters and expressions are now rooted deeply in Western culture and our celebration of Christmas. As for Charles Dickens’ self-publishing career, it was a bust. He did switch to Bradbury and Evans, publishing rivals of Chapman and Hall who had so little faith in him. And he left the world of self-publishing to concentrate on creating some of the best loved books of the English language. Interesting though, A Christmas Carol remains his most popular work and every Christmas we have the chance to relive Charles’ inspiration one more time.

Love and marriage, love and marriage, go together like a - well you know . . . But this idyllic vision hasn’t been the norm for very long. For most of recorded history, love was not a consideration. If love between husband and wife happened to be part of a marriage it was considered a fortunate byproduct. But in some places it was frowned upon as counter productive to the success of the union. The idea of marriage primarily as a business arrangement seems antithetical to most people today (at least the ones I know). Love is the driving force for marketing the institution and enticing new subscribers to sign on the dotted line. I might be a naive romantic, but I’m sold on love as the foundation of a strong marriage. If you can survive the trials of children, careers, finances, health, and the occasional disaster - the carriage ride can be a long and happy one. Even if it does get a little bumpy at times. But the history of getting married because of love, summarized brilliantly by Stephanie Coontz in her 2016 essay ‘The Radical Idea of Marrying for Love’ challenges many of the assumptions we hold to be self-evident. The 'unalienable' right to happiness enshrined in the US Constitution was considered a bit radical when it was drafted in 1776 and even blamed for inspiring young couples to put their own happiness ahead of the wishes of disapproving parents when it came to selecting a mate. Coontz says that love in marriage is not nearly as universal as we might think. Up until the last few centuries, it was not only highly unusual, but also considered a threat to the existing social order. In contrast, and just to make things more complicated, a variety of churches and governments over the last millennium recognized love (or perhaps consensual lust) as a key ingredient in defining a ‘licit’ marriage. My research on this topic sprang from trying to understand the practice of marriage in 18th century Scotland as it relates to my work in progress (Book II, Song for a Lost Kingdom). What I found surprised me. In Scotland at the time, mutual consent was the only thing required for an ‘irregular’ but still legally binding marriage. However it could be contested if either party denied that a marriage existed. Court cases were held to determine if a woman claiming to be a ‘wife’ was in fact a ‘mistress.’ The line between the two could be a fine one, at least in the eyes of the Edinburgh Commissary Court, where the final pronouncement on the legality of Scottish marriages was settled. The record of those proceedings could serve as the basis for a Netflix television series I’d love to watch. A brief history of love in marriage Historians tell us that for thousands of years, no sensible person selected a life partner based on the fleeting nature of romantic love. In Chinese, the word for ‘love’ does not apply to the feelings between a husband and wife, because that kind of silliness was reserved mostly for teens. When applied to older people, it referred to an affair done in shame and secrecy. And even today China Educational tours, an organization that helps Westerners prepare for visits to China, provides the following helpful advice about marriage in China: “It’s ok for adolescents to have feelings of love, but when they reach marriageable age then love is thought to be not only unnecessary, but probably even dangerous. More useful and important to prepare for choosing a spouse would be a good education, having a job, and maybe owning a flat.” In Europe among the nobility, marriages were arranged with little input from the affected parties, for political and financial gain, and of course, to propagate the next generation of suffering royals. By the 12th century, treaties on the true nature of love and the aversion to it within a normal marriage, were topics of hot debate. More useful and important to prepare for choosing a spouse would be a good education, having a job, and maybe owning a flat. At the request of Marie de Champagne, betrothed at the age of 15 by her father King Louis VII of France, a manifesto of true love was written by her priest Andreas Capellanus in 1184. It defined the differences between love and the affections that might exist between married partners. In the work entitled De amore, Capellanus described ‘courtly love’ as having the power to enoble both the lover and the beloved. Capellanus asserted that tender feelings between a man and a woman in marriage are not true love. “Love can have no place between husband and wife,” even if some couples do experience “immoderate affection” for each other he wrote. He also believed that the most enobling love is secret, extremely difficult to obtain and serves to inspire men to great deeds. He developed a set of rules for love, with number one being: “Marriage is no real excuse for not loving” by which he meant loving someone outside the marriage. Even into the 16th century, marriage and love were seen as very distinct states that rarely intersected. The influential French philosopher Michel de Montaigne wrote that “a good marriage would be between a a blind wife and a deaf husband.” He also maintained that any man in love with his wife was a man so dull that one else could love him. Love conquers marriage It wasn’t until the 18th and 19th century that love came to have equal importance to economics as the primary reason for selecting a mate. Around this time men and some women could now earn a living working at jobs that paid regular wages, so getting married became an option without regard for the ability of parents to put up a dowry or waiting for an inheritance. And so love with all its breathless irrationality, became the cornerstone for selecting a life-long partner. Other cultures did not share the same enthusiasm, and continued with more traditional approaches including arranged marriages, where love might blossom after, but rarely before, the wedding. A good marriage would be between a a blind wife and a deaf husband. Back in Scotland, during the 18th century, young women and men who publicly declared their intention to marry and consummated the arrangement with sexual intercourse, were considered to have an ‘irregular’ and perfectly legal marriage. The difficulty arose when one partner challenged the status of the marriage. At this point, every word from every witness was recorded, every letter or correspondence pertaining to the case examined and the court was left to sift through a couple’s intimate relationship to determine if they were indeed legally 'married.' Love played no part in the decision, as that affection was just as equally shared with a mistress who had no legal standing or property rights, in the eyes of the court. The final word from a marriage skeptic Perhaps it was Michel de Montaigne in the 16th century, the same man who doubted that love was integral to marriage, who provided the insight that we can still agree with even today. “If there is such a thing as a good marriage, it is because it resembles friendship rather than love.”

Love and marriage, love and marriage, go together like a - well you know . . . But this idyllic vision hasn’t been the norm for very long. For most of recorded history, love was not a consideration. If love between husband and wife happened to be part of a marriage it was considered a fortunate byproduct. But in some places it was frowned upon as counter productive to the success of the union. The idea of marriage primarily as a business arrangement seems antithetical to most people today (at least the ones I know). Love is the driving force for marketing the institution and enticing new subscribers to sign on the dotted line. I might be a naive romantic, but I’m sold on love as the foundation of a strong marriage. If you can survive the trials of children, careers, finances, health, and the occasional disaster - the carriage ride can be a long and happy one. Even if it does get a little bumpy at times. But the history of getting married because of love, summarized brilliantly by Stephanie Coontz in her 2016 essay ‘The Radical Idea of Marrying for Love’ challenges many of the assumptions we hold to be self-evident. The 'unalienable' right to happiness enshrined in the US Constitution was considered a bit radical when it was drafted in 1776 and even blamed for inspiring young couples to put their own happiness ahead of the wishes of disapproving parents when it came to selecting a mate. Coontz says that love in marriage is not nearly as universal as we might think. Up until the last few centuries, it was not only highly unusual, but also considered a threat to the existing social order. In contrast, and just to make things more complicated, a variety of churches and governments over the last millennium recognized love (or perhaps consensual lust) as a key ingredient in defining a ‘licit’ marriage. My research on this topic sprang from trying to understand the practice of marriage in 18th century Scotland as it relates to my work in progress (Book II, Song for a Lost Kingdom). What I found surprised me. In Scotland at the time, mutual consent was the only thing required for an ‘irregular’ but still legally binding marriage. However it could be contested if either party denied that a marriage existed. Court cases were held to determine if a woman claiming to be a ‘wife’ was in fact a ‘mistress.’ The line between the two could be a fine one, at least in the eyes of the Edinburgh Commissary Court, where the final pronouncement on the legality of Scottish marriages was settled. The record of those proceedings could serve as the basis for a Netflix television series I’d love to watch. A brief history of love in marriage Historians tell us that for thousands of years, no sensible person selected a life partner based on the fleeting nature of romantic love. In Chinese, the word for ‘love’ does not apply to the feelings between a husband and wife, because that kind of silliness was reserved mostly for teens. When applied to older people, it referred to an affair done in shame and secrecy. And even today China Educational tours, an organization that helps Westerners prepare for visits to China, provides the following helpful advice about marriage in China: “It’s ok for adolescents to have feelings of love, but when they reach marriageable age then love is thought to be not only unnecessary, but probably even dangerous. More useful and important to prepare for choosing a spouse would be a good education, having a job, and maybe owning a flat.” In Europe among the nobility, marriages were arranged with little input from the affected parties, for political and financial gain, and of course, to propagate the next generation of suffering royals. By the 12th century, treaties on the true nature of love and the aversion to it within a normal marriage, were topics of hot debate. More useful and important to prepare for choosing a spouse would be a good education, having a job, and maybe owning a flat. At the request of Marie de Champagne, betrothed at the age of 15 by her father King Louis VII of France, a manifesto of true love was written by her priest Andreas Capellanus in 1184. It defined the differences between love and the affections that might exist between married partners. In the work entitled De amore, Capellanus described ‘courtly love’ as having the power to enoble both the lover and the beloved. Capellanus asserted that tender feelings between a man and a woman in marriage are not true love. “Love can have no place between husband and wife,” even if some couples do experience “immoderate affection” for each other he wrote. He also believed that the most enobling love is secret, extremely difficult to obtain and serves to inspire men to great deeds. He developed a set of rules for love, with number one being: “Marriage is no real excuse for not loving” by which he meant loving someone outside the marriage. Even into the 16th century, marriage and love were seen as very distinct states that rarely intersected. The influential French philosopher Michel de Montaigne wrote that “a good marriage would be between a a blind wife and a deaf husband.” He also maintained that any man in love with his wife was a man so dull that one else could love him. Love conquers marriage It wasn’t until the 18th and 19th century that love came to have equal importance to economics as the primary reason for selecting a mate. Around this time men and some women could now earn a living working at jobs that paid regular wages, so getting married became an option without regard for the ability of parents to put up a dowry or waiting for an inheritance. And so love with all its breathless irrationality, became the cornerstone for selecting a life-long partner. Other cultures did not share the same enthusiasm, and continued with more traditional approaches including arranged marriages, where love might blossom after, but rarely before, the wedding. A good marriage would be between a a blind wife and a deaf husband. Back in Scotland, during the 18th century, young women and men who publicly declared their intention to marry and consummated the arrangement with sexual intercourse, were considered to have an ‘irregular’ and perfectly legal marriage. The difficulty arose when one partner challenged the status of the marriage. At this point, every word from every witness was recorded, every letter or correspondence pertaining to the case examined and the court was left to sift through a couple’s intimate relationship to determine if they were indeed legally 'married.' Love played no part in the decision, as that affection was just as equally shared with a mistress who had no legal standing or property rights, in the eyes of the court. The final word from a marriage skeptic Perhaps it was Michel de Montaigne in the 16th century, the same man who doubted that love was integral to marriage, who provided the insight that we can still agree with even today. “If there is such a thing as a good marriage, it is because it resembles friendship rather than love.”

A recent article in the NY Times about ‘sloppy signatures’ that could disqualify mail-in votes cast during the November mid-term US elections, made me wonder if signatures written with a pen on paper are just about dead. Whenever I have to sign my name on an electronic pad, either with my finger or a stylus, I feel embarrassed with the strange representation of my ‘real’ signature that I produce. I’ve had to do these for deliveries and at cashier checkouts. For fun I've often wondered if I were to write ‘This is Not Me’ would anyone even notice? In Florida and other jurisdictions, squiggly doodle signatures captured on electronic signing pads wind up on your driver’s license. And if the doodle doesn’t look like the pen and ink signature on your paper ballot, your mail-in vote might be disqualified. Use an emoji instead? Some say technology and culture are devaluing signatures. Tamara Thornton, a University of Buffalo professor who has studied the history of handwriting, says that the time of signatures is quickly fading. “They came into popularity as a means of expressing a person’s individuality,” she told the NY Times, “which made them good for identification. Now people will just use an emoji.” An emoji? Have we come to the point where we will represent our legal identity with this

His music is legendary, even coming from the overhead speakers 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 supermarkets of Babylon Fast forward to the 21st century and the ubiquitous nature of background music. A few months ago, while searching shelves of the little grocery store where I was shopping for something vitally important like whole grain mustard, 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? Perhaps 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 the 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 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’ was 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 line, almost word for word in the song, adding only three words - “Everywhere is war.” The rest of the song also uses much of the speech, word for word. While a few people outside of the UN heard Selassie’s speech, millions 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 near Kingston, 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) 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 convictions 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 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 afterward 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 are vehement that their religion has no dogma and believe 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 to their people for more than 200 years. Marley embraced these ideas and raised the profile of Rastafari around the world. Their beliefs and philosophy 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 mustard.