A well-written, gripping, almost haunting post about the abuse of the girl (which certainly was rather common at the time, and in some countries still practiced by "modern" colonialists, I mean "tourists").
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The music of Madam Butterfly keep playing in my head while reading this part of the story. Unfortunately the line "Of course. What’s a darky between friends?" sums up a popular opinion about how natives were viewed by European men at the time.
Joe
Joe
Thanks, Duuk, althouth, I am not at liberty to say exactly what game event is being described by the Kurtz scenes. It might just surprise you. (Or it might not...
)Many thanks, Sytass. And I agree about how common the practice was. Although, I think that Kurtz is being slightly a bit more heinous in his actions with her than normal. After all, she seems to have genuine affection of some variety for him...
Pretty much. Rather unfortunate, considering the long term consequences of such behavior. We are still dealing with the after effects of European colonism in Africa even today.
For those who are counting, if I was not restricted by the game timeline of events, this scene should have been juxtaposed with the wedding night of Juan and Juanita. I am sure you can see how that would have added to the abhorrent effect of this scene involving everyone's favorite Castillian-speaking German.
Carlos paced in the audience hall, his steps echoing in the empty room. His mind wandered over a variety of subjects, none of which was pleasing to him. His eyes darted to the huge hearth in the south corner of the room, but no fire was present. He considered ordering a servant to light one, but the thought of warmth intruding to his bones was distasteful. For all of Carlos's chiding of the him, the melancholy of the king permeated everything.
Without bothering with a servant, the Duque de Toledo entered the room with a letter in his hand. He had a half-grin upon his face which lent a grotesque twisting to his wrinkled countenance. Carlos marvelled at how his old friend had aged in the recent months. Despite his marriage to the young and graceful Maria of Anjou, time was catching up to him. Still, even with wrinkles and the scars of age, Toledo walked upright and without a cane. His dignity hung heavily upon his shoulders, but he bore the burden without grimace or complaint.
"What could possibly give you cause for smiling, my dearest Duque de Toledo?"
Toledo paused, opened the letter, and handed it to him.
To your royal person, King of Castile
It has come to my attention that you have finally cast off the last of your ties with the most treacherous Fancois of France. This joys my heart to no end, and I would ask a favor of you.
I know of your staunch support of the Holy Mother Church these past years, as heresy has reared its ugly head. I would encourage you to continue that support, and join the Holy See and myself in an alliance. Together, we could rid Christendom of the evil of Luther. I am not about to let his devilish ways lead the people astray, and if the princes choose the sword, then the sword it shall be.
Lend your sword to mine, Juan of Castile, and together we will end this threat to the souls of the faithful. Both his holiness and I await your answer with much anticipation.
Karl V, Archduke of Austria
Emperor
Carlos glanced at Toledo with his brows arching.
"Is this a joke?"
"No. That is the seal of the Emperor. This is a serious offer of alliance."
"Does Karl really think we will forget Habsburg actions in Italy? Does he really think his pandering to religious notions will sway the king?"
"I expect he does not. But I am sure he thinks it will not hurt to try."
"Bah! What does the king say?"
"He does not know yet, though I can guess his answer."
Toledo was smirking.
"What is so funny?"
"It is nothing. Just something that Maria said."
"What did she say?"
"She said that the people of Naples would surely rise up in support of their favorite rulers, the Habsburgs. Yea, they would even give their lives to fight in far off lands that held no consequence to the lives of Itallians. She even said that the people highly approved of the Pope's lackey status to the great, imperial Habsburgs, and that having their papa held hostage by temporal politics did not bother them a jot. She fully expects the peasants to quit eating and sleeping to support the war effort..."
Toledo paused as an involuntary grin crept across Carlos's face.
"She is joking, right?"
"Of course. If it is one thing I learned from my good friend Juan, it was an appreciation of women with wit."
Carlos shook his head, and the two friends left the empty hall together. Tonight, theirs would be the first bottle of wine emptied in the spirit of camaraderie in a long time.
Without bothering with a servant, the Duque de Toledo entered the room with a letter in his hand. He had a half-grin upon his face which lent a grotesque twisting to his wrinkled countenance. Carlos marvelled at how his old friend had aged in the recent months. Despite his marriage to the young and graceful Maria of Anjou, time was catching up to him. Still, even with wrinkles and the scars of age, Toledo walked upright and without a cane. His dignity hung heavily upon his shoulders, but he bore the burden without grimace or complaint.
"What could possibly give you cause for smiling, my dearest Duque de Toledo?"
Toledo paused, opened the letter, and handed it to him.
To your royal person, King of Castile
It has come to my attention that you have finally cast off the last of your ties with the most treacherous Fancois of France. This joys my heart to no end, and I would ask a favor of you.
I know of your staunch support of the Holy Mother Church these past years, as heresy has reared its ugly head. I would encourage you to continue that support, and join the Holy See and myself in an alliance. Together, we could rid Christendom of the evil of Luther. I am not about to let his devilish ways lead the people astray, and if the princes choose the sword, then the sword it shall be.
Lend your sword to mine, Juan of Castile, and together we will end this threat to the souls of the faithful. Both his holiness and I await your answer with much anticipation.
Karl V, Archduke of Austria
Emperor
Carlos glanced at Toledo with his brows arching.
"Is this a joke?"
"No. That is the seal of the Emperor. This is a serious offer of alliance."
"Does Karl really think we will forget Habsburg actions in Italy? Does he really think his pandering to religious notions will sway the king?"
"I expect he does not. But I am sure he thinks it will not hurt to try."
"Bah! What does the king say?"
"He does not know yet, though I can guess his answer."
Toledo was smirking.
"What is so funny?"
"It is nothing. Just something that Maria said."
"What did she say?"
"She said that the people of Naples would surely rise up in support of their favorite rulers, the Habsburgs. Yea, they would even give their lives to fight in far off lands that held no consequence to the lives of Itallians. She even said that the people highly approved of the Pope's lackey status to the great, imperial Habsburgs, and that having their papa held hostage by temporal politics did not bother them a jot. She fully expects the peasants to quit eating and sleeping to support the war effort..."
Toledo paused as an involuntary grin crept across Carlos's face.
"She is joking, right?"
"Of course. If it is one thing I learned from my good friend Juan, it was an appreciation of women with wit."
Carlos shook his head, and the two friends left the empty hall together. Tonight, theirs would be the first bottle of wine emptied in the spirit of camaraderie in a long time.
Glad to see at least one pair still knows they are alive.
This story line is becoming depressing.
This story line is becoming depressing.
I have to say, this is probably the most realistic AAR I´ve ever read. I mean, issues like the one with the girl are often skipped all together. In fact, this is one of the best AARs I´ve ever read.
Kudos!
Kudos!
Originally posted by Castellon
Glad to see at least one pair still knows they are alive.
This story line is becoming depressing.
That seems to be a trend in this particular tale -- the good years never last long enough, and it's only a matter of time until things get tragic again. I guess SM just identifies more with Iago than he does with, say, Puck.
Yes, it is. And it is going to remain so for the near future. I can, however, speak with some authority on when that will change. You can bet that when a new king rises to the throne, things will get more lively in Madrid. And Kurtz's story might just have something resembling a happy ending. (Although not in the Hollywood sense of one...)
You know, it is funny that you should mention Puck and Iago. Iago is my all-time favorite character in all of Shakespeare. He is intelligent, witty, a brilliant manipulator, and very goal-oriented. He also happens to be evil and successful, to the point of not even repenting of his actions when threatened with torture. He speaks more lines in Othello than Othello does. He is fascinating in everything he does, even as he makes my skin crawl with his evil nature. In short, Iago is a type of character that is very seductive in literature: he is grotesque in his actions, even though one cannot help but watch more of him in fascination.
On the other hand, I am less enamored with Puck. While he is a well written character, and he is quite a bit of fun, Puck does not arouse my passion and curiosity the way Iago does. I am not sure why this is (after all, volumes of crticism have been written about Puck alone, so apparently Shakespeare shcolars find him a worthy subject), but for me, he is a less fascinating character than even some of the other characters in A Midsummer Nght's Dream.
I will leave it to the psychologists in the audience to deduce why I favor the brilliant evil of Iago over the playful fun of Puck.
Thanks, Oleg. I hope to keep you interested well into the future. After all, we have only played out a century (and some change) of gameplay. We have three more to go.
Aieee, only a century? Wow. Any chance of getting screenshots of Castile's standing on the Iberian Peninsula and their North African lands? Pretty please?
Great stuff!
It was a daunting task to read however. Lost one night of sleep reading the first 24 pages, but I made it!
I hope that Secret Master haven't read Richard III lately however.
It was a daunting task to read however. Lost one night of sleep reading the first 24 pages, but I made it!
I hope that Secret Master haven't read Richard III lately however.
Well, there is a funny thing about screenshots.
I took very few screenies during the 16th century. Part of the reason is because my borders did not change for such a long period of time after the crushing of Navarra, when Castile took Oporto from them and forced Juan Felipe de Albrect to submit as a vassal.
I have ones for 1488, 1525, and then not another one until 1602. The 1525 and 1602 screenies show only other countries. Since my borders never changed for so long, I didn't bother to take screenies.
I can repost the European situation of 1525 if you want. But the standing of Castile has only changed a little since the 1488 screenshot.
In this pic, the only change that currently is important is that Oporto and Aragon are Castillian.
Note here the budding Empire of Kleeves. Also, this screenie is before the Habsburg multiple inhereitances, so just assume that the Habsburgs own Hungary and have Bohemia as a vassal. Note also France's involvement in the British Isles.
Thanks C.N. I'm glad you made the effort to read it all. And, just to set your mind at rest, I have not read Richard III in awhile.
But I do have a copy of the play handy....
Thank SM. Perhaps campaigning against the heathens in Algeria can take some of the malaise out of Juan.
Nice pics.
Good to know that this thread will lighten up a bit soon enough. However, I just want to let you know that even when the story is dark it is very compelling just to know what Our Heroes will do next.
Duuk
Good to know that this thread will lighten up a bit soon enough. However, I just want to let you know that even when the story is dark it is very compelling just to know what Our Heroes will do next.
Duuk
The rains had come once again. What had started as a sprinkling of droplets on the day of the Lord's rest, had become a downpour of Biblical proportions by the end of the week. Rain had returned to Louga with a vengence.
Kurtz had miscalculated the the number of days left before the dry season ended, and the result was predictable. Francisco, Kurtz, Watumbo, and the other Africans were burdened with a heavy load of the precious ivory, far from the trading post, when the weather unleashed its fury upon them. With the rivers, or what passed for rivers in this clime, overflowing their banks, life had become immeasurably more difficult for them. They were slowed down to a crawl, carrying, dragging, and pushing their burden of ivory across the land. The land offered them no respite or assistance in their quest. Though Kurtz was undaunted by change in their situation, Francisco found himself a little agitated at the dampness.
"I don't think we can return to the trading post."
"What do you mean, Francisco?"
"The damn creeks are swollen lakes and rivers now. How will be cross them? Especially considering the load carried by the darkies."
"Don't worry about them. They will do just fine. They are tough brutes, if nothing else."
"Still, why risk the loss of the ivory? We are not that far from the coast. If we head southwest, we will come across the primary trading post. We could just directly drop off the ivory there, and then we could get some relief from this weather."
Kurtz considered this as sheets of water rolled off his clothing.
"Perhaps you are right. We cannot get any money from the ivory if it is lost. I estimate we are only a few miles from the main trading post. If I don't miss my guess, we should head this way..."
And with that, Kurtz stepped off with the left foot, leading the way. Shockingly, they spent only an hour marching towards the trading post, when the jungle parted before them. Revealed was a collection of houses, a church, and all manner of cleared jungle arranged for small farms. Kurtz and Francisco stood still in the rain, their eyes straining to fully understand the new landscape.
Have I been in the jungle that long?
With great hesitation, Kurtz moved forward into the new town. No one was out of doors, due to the weather, giving the small town a bizarre look. It was as if there should be ghosts plying the streets, but no such mysticism would be granted to the two Europeans who walked the streets. The smell of wet livestock and matted dung greeted them as they moved along the muddy streets. Francisco glanced at Kurtz. For the first time since he had known the man, he looked unsure of himself in this new climate.
When they found a central location in the town, the Africans set down their white burden, dropping it into the mud. Kurtz looked around himself, wondering what to do. Francisco just looked at Kurtz, waiting for instructions.
"I guess we should look for someone in charge."
"I suppose so. Shall we leave the darkies here to guard the ivory?"
"Yes."
And with that, the two men set out to explore the undiscovered country that had intruded upon their lives.
Kurtz had miscalculated the the number of days left before the dry season ended, and the result was predictable. Francisco, Kurtz, Watumbo, and the other Africans were burdened with a heavy load of the precious ivory, far from the trading post, when the weather unleashed its fury upon them. With the rivers, or what passed for rivers in this clime, overflowing their banks, life had become immeasurably more difficult for them. They were slowed down to a crawl, carrying, dragging, and pushing their burden of ivory across the land. The land offered them no respite or assistance in their quest. Though Kurtz was undaunted by change in their situation, Francisco found himself a little agitated at the dampness.
"I don't think we can return to the trading post."
"What do you mean, Francisco?"
"The damn creeks are swollen lakes and rivers now. How will be cross them? Especially considering the load carried by the darkies."
"Don't worry about them. They will do just fine. They are tough brutes, if nothing else."
"Still, why risk the loss of the ivory? We are not that far from the coast. If we head southwest, we will come across the primary trading post. We could just directly drop off the ivory there, and then we could get some relief from this weather."
Kurtz considered this as sheets of water rolled off his clothing.
"Perhaps you are right. We cannot get any money from the ivory if it is lost. I estimate we are only a few miles from the main trading post. If I don't miss my guess, we should head this way..."
And with that, Kurtz stepped off with the left foot, leading the way. Shockingly, they spent only an hour marching towards the trading post, when the jungle parted before them. Revealed was a collection of houses, a church, and all manner of cleared jungle arranged for small farms. Kurtz and Francisco stood still in the rain, their eyes straining to fully understand the new landscape.
Have I been in the jungle that long?
With great hesitation, Kurtz moved forward into the new town. No one was out of doors, due to the weather, giving the small town a bizarre look. It was as if there should be ghosts plying the streets, but no such mysticism would be granted to the two Europeans who walked the streets. The smell of wet livestock and matted dung greeted them as they moved along the muddy streets. Francisco glanced at Kurtz. For the first time since he had known the man, he looked unsure of himself in this new climate.
When they found a central location in the town, the Africans set down their white burden, dropping it into the mud. Kurtz looked around himself, wondering what to do. Francisco just looked at Kurtz, waiting for instructions.
"I guess we should look for someone in charge."
"I suppose so. Shall we leave the darkies here to guard the ivory?"
"Yes."
And with that, the two men set out to explore the undiscovered country that had intruded upon their lives.
Thanks. We might see more semi-Biblical allusions and references in the near future. This is because I am in the middle of studying Paradise Lost, so it's on the brain.
Oh, and yes, a bit of a surprise. Guess Kurtz didn't get the memo that Louga was now a level 3 colony....
Why no, not at all. I would never make an allusion to Shakespeare....
I'm glad you are enjoying.Many thanks, Count. I'm glad your still here. However, if you are looking for other good AARs to read, you might poke around to MrT's and Lord Durham's work. Then you might not think mine is the best you've read...
Well, soon is a relative term. Since I have already planned out a large portion of the next chapters, it seems to me that it is just a stone's throw away that we will get happy things. On the other hand, to those of you reading, it may be weeks before Kurtz is resolved and we get a new king upon the throne.
As Dr. Storey leaned back, his face slid out of the filtered light seeping from the small windows and settled into the deep shadow caused by the chair’s high back. He raised his pen and placed it on his notepad on his lap and looked at the figure that reclined on the lone sofa in the dim lit room. Clearing his throat he said.
"Now Mr. Secret Master vot ver you saying?"
Secret Master kept his head turned away as he once again started telling Dr. Storey about his dreams.
"I’m having recurring dreams about two Shakespearean characters, Iago and Puck."
"Veally, do tell. Go on."
"Well Iago seems to be the ruler of some crazy country called Castile. While Puck is in some jungle somewhere swinging from tree to tree making friends with elephants."
"Ah, elephants you say. Interesting, go on."
"Well Iago goes around in a uniform commanding his armies and playing politics. He even marches instead of walking with a military band playing in the background. His friends like to sit around and drink and talk about women and play cards."
"Sure, sure and vot about this Puck character?"
"Puck’s busy walking through the jungle with some natives helping his elephant friends find their lost teeth."
"Teeth? You mean tusks?"
"No teeth. They have lots of them that the elephants keep losing."
Secret Master started fidgeting on the sofa.
"Continue please."
"Well that’s just it, the dream always ends there. Iago marching around followed by his army while Puck sits by the campfire with the natives singing to the elephants. What does it mean doctor, what does it mean?"
The rising voice of Secret Master caused Dr. Storey to lean forward moving his face once again into the light. His voice was calming even as his face took on the look of a hunter as he said.
"It is veally all to simple Mr. Secret Master. Your dreams are based on your sexual fascination vit your mother and father. Iago obviously is the father figure and displays all those manly attributes such as marching, uniforms and drinking while poor poor Puck is in reality your mother showing the nurturing, caring side of your personality. The teeth, they are just merely memories of your mother making you brush your teeth as a child. This has caused a strong reaction, which manifest itself by the need to hide in the metaphysical jungle of your ego."
Dr Storey allowed himself a moment of satisfaction before he continued. He drew a cigar out of his humidor and lit it with the ease that belied the growing tension in the room. Secret Master couldn’t stand it any longer and he turned his face to the good doctor.
"But what does it all mean?"
"Ah, yes, it means that… Oh, I see by the clock that our session is over. You will need to see my secretary on your vay out and make another appointment. I’m sure that ve are making progress Mr. Secret Master. Now I’m sorry but someone is vaiting to see me."
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