Wednesday 12 April 2017

I Can't Stand Nosey Parkers.



I can't stand Nosey Parkers. Real, unashamed Nosey Parkers. The sort of Nosey Parker whose nose twitches like an excited squirrel about to unearth his nuts after a long, long hibernation!

What is so fascinating about what is going on in my living room?

Okay, so we are all, to some extent, curious. I understand that. We're all interested in other people. At least, most of us are. But now I'm talking about those human-twitchers always on the lookout, always nosing into other people's business, and who don't understand the meaning of the word "privacy."

Being on the ground floor, people have to walk past my patio window en route to the car park. I don't mind that. I like people. Most don't trot past with their eyes burning anxiously as they try to peer through my window glass. Hoping to see what?

The case in point is a married couple in my block of flats. They are both irrepressible twitchers of human activity. Rubber-neckers. When I first moved in, before I managed to get my blinds sorted, I felt like a specimen at the zoo. I contemplated putting up a sign. HOMO SAPIEN, (FEMALE) FEEDING TIME 7PM.

Sometimes I had a sense of humour about it. My friend and I would giggle, watching them as they walked past, not realising that we could see them rubber-necking.

He has taken Holy Orders, so maybe he hopes to catch me out in some minor sin that he can help me to repent of. But - eventually - the blinds went up, and the curtains went up. Incredibly their necks remained intact and not dislocated.

Now my blinds and curtains have had to come down again.

The workmen are here doing my damp proofing and plaster repairs. This evening, though, I wanted some privacy. The bookcase placed on its side in front of the window helped, with cushions and table mats on top, and a chair beside, see my photo above.

His Holiness comes up the apartment steps, veers left towards my window and peers through the glass patio door, over the two bags on top of the chair I pushed in front of it.

Infuriating.

Fortunately they will be moving in May. Let's hope the new neighbours will have a life of their own and won't need to rubber-neck mine!





Sunday 2 April 2017

Giacomo Casanova, The World's Most Famous Womanizer, was Born This Day, 2 April

Casanova - by Adriano C. Public Domain
I'm not sure why I'm posting this on Msanthropeonline. After all, he LOVED women, and so, he must have been very charming. Maybe I would have fallen for him if I'd lived in the 18th century and met him. Yes, knowing me, I can be taken in by a sparkling wit and and engaging manner.

But he was ruthless and manipulative and deceitful. And women were his "victims" although possibly that is too strong a word.

He was born in Venice on 2 April 1725 and called himself by all manner of uppity titles, Baron, Count, Chevalier, to impress the ladies and other useful contacts. He hobnobbed with the best of society, Voltaire, Goethe and Mozart, and was on familiar terms with royalty.

His autobiography which he wrote while working as a librarian in Bohemia, was Histoire de ma vie. (Story of my life.) 

The following quote he made about love is courtesy of his page on Wikipedia.

Real love is the love that sometimes arises after sensual pleasure: if it does, it is immortal; the other kind inevitably goes stale, for it lies in mere fantasy. 

So, clearly, this intellectual did have some idea of what real love was; nevertheless he is known for his numerous and brief amorous adventures with women.  

One particularly bizarre incident occurred in Paris. He managed to convince an aristocratic woman, Marquise d'Urfe, that he could use his knowledge of the occult to turn her into a young man, his goal being some sort of payoff. Of course, as he would have known, his plan didn't work and the lady lost interest in his alleged occult abilities.

Why was Casanova impelled to pursue and seduce so many women?  

For a start, he was constantly in debt. As a result, he moved around Europe at an alarming rate. Perhaps he was never able to stay anywhere long enough to develop anything concrete.

There could be another likely cause. At age 9, his mother, a theatre actress who was constantly on tour, packed him off to a boarding house in Padua. (His father had already died when he was eight years old.)  The conditions were terrible and he felt angry and abandoned. Maybe this caused him to go off in search of love - and yet not be able to trust anyone sufficiently to commit to a lifetime relationship. (All this is just speculation on my part. No doubt a deeper study of the man might produce further possibilities.)

If I get around to reading his autobiography I will let you know! 

Casanova died in 1798. 

You can find a short biography with a video about Casanova here.