Medvedev Dmitriy: http://www.proza.ru/2012/07/11/1273
After learning all the things important for a woman, Marie was locked on the wedlock. The vows were about to be taken with the “wow”- the king of France, a smiling bearded fellow, if the various painting by many artists were an indication. From those hanging in the Louvre, my favorites are the depictions of the school of Toussaint Duhreuil, where Henry the 4th, with the look of “made a bit of a mess here” stands above the Lernean Hydra, which represents the Catholic League. And in his series about the Italian princess, Rubens is the first to present the king not enface, but he still kept the beard and the smug physiognomy. The princess on the portrait in the story of the “Presentation of Her Portrait to Henry IV” (a bit of a tongue-breaking here), had to settle without any hesitation for neither the first nor the second man- the painting was a mindless copy-paste from a real painting sent before the wedding.
In the modern world, love begins in Tweeter, continues in Skype and dies inside a black list, then it starts again, because there so much Tweets in the Tweeter, that one might think we didn’t evolve past the avian stage. On the ancient times, Henry had to settle for rumors about the girls’ next country, and in the current situation- with a single depiction of the potential spouse in the hands of Hymney and Cupid. Pretty much the way it is nowadays, the userpic was a pretty weak proof of the face of the real faces of the unpretty owners, so the smiling monarch had a surprise coming, along with a change in his expression. But France, obviously tired from wars, is definitely whispering (if you read the lips) “Just do it”- and pushes the king to the avvie. “Yeah, take her!”- Cupid seconds, while poking his finger at the portrait, while lesser amours steal the kings’ military gear. And so, in the imagination of Rubens, the charmed warrior crown-bearer agrees to bear the throes of marriage. But in reality, the second marriage of Henry comes less from hot love, and more from the cold calculation- as is the way of all the smart people. Besides, the first wife didn’t leave any kids; therefore no child support was set in the court.
The morning of the wedding is the best moment in any woman’s life, because for once she knows for sure what she’s going to wear. And how good it was, to feel young, popular, from the richest family and about to marry a king. If you count out the money, everything was good about her, but what can go wrong if you have more money than you can count? And it’s even better that the alarm clock didn’t go off, and for Marie Medici it all remained a great reality. In this very day, as testified by Hymney, which hold the folds of her wedding uniform, she was wed by her… uncle, and as depicted by Peter Paul (who was in fact present in person) in the 8th painting, “A marriage by agreement” (where he was, in fact, not present). Uncle Medici was quite the resourceful fellow, often sticking to the rules (unless they put sticks in his wheels). And since Henry himself didn’t bother to show up to his own wedding in the Florentine Cathedral, the kin member just kind of stood in.
The sneaky scenarist was about to grab the moment, spinning it off in all genres, starting from sitcom to personal drama. But, after watching over more than 30 seasons of the most interesting series “life in first person”, I was convinced that the reality that was forced upon us by the artists’ imagination was beyond comparing. Thus, the abovementioned producer spared us from another American-style “masterpiece” on historical basis. As for this picture, the geniuses of Hollywood, who don’t remember how the vampire Harry Potter searched Pandora for the Cloud Atlas that will lead him to Tony Starks’ Iron Throne, could actually film an “uneven marriage”, where there are French, and there’s Kutuzov across the trench. And as a secondary plot- the Terrible father who kills his son.*
Shaking off the terrible thoughts about modern cinema, I moved to the next painting, where a month later, a ring bearing Medici arrived to Marcel, and the Fame with the trumpets was already to help the king face the music. France himself and Marcel herself** prostrated themselves before Her Majesty with open embrace, offering food and wine. Now if she’d be kind enough to still the engine named Neptune, and may Fortune, steering the ship, will pull the golden galley over and park it in our humble port. The one in charge about smaller vessels… no, not a cardiologist, but the black-clothed crusader struck with his staff against the wooden deck and the wood-headed Fortune, which half-grew into the ship, obediently pushed the breaks. Above the aft deck, parking and breaking lights came alight, well, except the one that burned out, and the Caravel placed the gangplank with the velvet carpet.
The thinned queen just came in, steps onto the pierce with the red sheets- a crucial part of contrasts for the narrative part of those paintings. The background and the small details, as usually, contain attributes of triumph of virtue over war, and the front part is dedicated to nereids and tritons. And despite the fact that the classic objective of “losing weight by summer” was far from achieved by the lovely half of the underwater kingdom (then again, it was November), they successfully pull the attention away from the unattractive First Lady. After all, it makes sense that if Marie has two “apples” to offer, the divas below expose two melons each, and that’s the delight that attracts the eye.
Rubens already applies delicate hints to prepare the beholders for his next masterpiece, trying to show through the attributes and gestures of the characters the events to come. And I, personally, felt that by setting foot upon the French soil, the somewhat twenty-five years old, supposedly virgin (!) Marie relishes the thoughts of meeting her crown-bearing spouse, who, as far as she believed, was driven mad by expectation, somewhere in the halls of Lyon. And if she’s truly innocent, her mind’s already full of with images of the French kisses and the first wedding night, unsuspecting what the French are all about.
*On the painting, the grand Duke, standing in for the groom, puts the ring on Maries’ hand. On the right we can see the French ambassadors, on the left- the family of the bride. Above the Cardinal there’s an atypical pieta, where instead of the grieving mother of Christ the father is painted.
**In French, France is a he (in the cloak with the fleurs-de-lis) and Marcel is a she (the woman behind him).