Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Posts Tagged ‘George R.R. Martin’

logo-thrones-burning-game-hunt

I want to begin by referencing an article by a man with whom I am proud to share a first name: Daniel Stewart.  In “‘Why is that woman naked?’: Sources of Objectification in Game of Thrones,” he argues that the HBO series portrays sex essentially as a tool of power:

In the world of Game of Thrones, power is the only thing that matters. Love is pointless at best. Honor is a joke. Virtue is an illusion.

(…)

In this world where physical strength, monetary wealth, and political influence are the only qualities worth having, it is no wonder the women (especially poor women) are treated so poorly.  (. . .) [The typical female character] is left with two options; [sic] to suffer terribly at the hands of more powerful men or to use her shrewdness or sexual prowess to try to influence the men around her.

Erik_Erikson Upon reading this, I was reminded of Erik Erikson’s observations regarding sexuality’s roots in very early childhood, as well as the differences in how unhealthy approaches to sexuality — which is nothing more than the excitement of “being on the make” at that age (Erikson 255, parentheses included) — manifest themselves in boys and girls.  “In the boy,” says Erikson…

…the emphasis remains on phallic-intrusive modes; in the girl it turns to modes of “catching” (…) or (…) making oneself attractive and endearing.

(255, italics mine)

However people’s views on sexuality and gender relations may differ, this is clearly the way the “game of sex” is played in Game of Thrones.

GoT-Theon-crying-500x333Theon Greyjoy (Alfie Allen) is forced to watch as his foster sister, Sansa Stark, is raped

Think of the prolonged portrayal (mostly via sound), in a recent episode, of the rape of eighteen-year-old Sansa Stark (Sophie Turner) at the hands of a ruthless husband to whom she has been given in an arranged marriage.  Clearly, we have the peculiarly masculine form of sexual sin (at its worst) on display here.

Sex as a power tool should appall everyone but astonish no one.  If someone wants to dominate another person, what better way to do so than by rape?  After all, to dominate the body is to dominate the person (at least, as nearly as humanly possible).

As many will have no doubt noticed, the aforementioned scene has sparked outrage among the show’s fans.  While people are indeed right to decry the rape of a young woman (and even, perhaps, its insensitive portrayal in a TV show), part of me wants to cry out: “What did you expect?”  Create a world, populate it almost entirely with characters who are obsessed with power, and mix in the careless — not to mention tasteless — treatment and portrayal of sex, and the latter two are bound to “mate” before long.

MelisandreBut, as my reference to Erikson might suggest, there is a more “feminine” version of this as well.  Think of Melisandre (Carice Van Houten), the seductive “Red Priestess,” who uses her sexual desirability to manipulate powerful men for her purposes.  Here we have the peculiarly feminine form of the use of sex as a power tool.

And then of course we also get, as they say, “all sorts of strange animals in between.”

Which of the above examples has sparked more outrage?  That’s right, the first one.  Again, it should spark outrage — don’t misunderstand me.  But the assumption that only when it involves the aggressive violence of rape is pornographic material objectionable can blind us to the fact that human sexuality is very much like fire: Splendid, beautiful, powerful, and necessary…but also very dangerous, and in need of being “contained.”

Readers and viewers who espouse a more traditional morality will pine for what is often seen as Game of Thrones‘ counterpart in the fantasy/adventure world: J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings, which has nothing like the former’s candid material.  But leaving that aside for the moment, let us note another key difference between the two: Tolkien drew his inspiration primarily from myth; George R.R. Martin, author of the novel series on which Game of Thrones is based, draws his inspiration primarily from history.

These two differences may have more to do with one another than one might think.  I’ll pick up with that in the next post.

Erikson photo from Wikipedia — full reference:

“Erik Erikson” by ?Original uploader was Waveformula at en.wikipedia – http://www.wpclipart.com/famous/psychology/Erik_Erikson_2.png.htmlTransferred from en.wikipediaImage comes from WP Clipart[1] which ONLY features public domain images and provides extensive source information on their “Legal” page: [2]. Licensed under Public Domain via Wikimedia Commons – http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Erik_Erikson.png#/media/File:Erik_Erikson.png

Remaining images obtained through a Google image search

Reference

Erikson, E.H.  Childhood and Society  2nd ed.  NY: Norton, 1963

Advertisements

Read Full Post »

burning of seven(If you would like to catch up or refresh: Part One, Part Two)

Melisandre (Carice Van Houten) is introduced to “Game of Thrones” fans with the burning of the seven.  In the name of the “Lord of Light,” she induces the Lord Stannis (Stephen Dillane) to burn the effigies of the seven gods of Westeros as a symbolic gesture of renunciation.  Again, one is reminded of Christianity; Christian missionaries were known to have orchestrated the destruction of idols.  But given the Gnostic/Manichean character of Melisandre’s religion, could there be something else going on here?

George_R._R._Martin_signing

I’m getting a bit ahead of myself.  First of all, did George R.R. Martin — author of the “Song of Ice and Fire” series on which “Game of Thrones” is based — have Gnosticism or Manichaeism in mind when crafting Melisandre’s character and religion?

This much is for sure: Martin draws heavily from his studies of medieval Europe in crafting the world of Ice and Fire, and he is very much dedicated to authenticity.  So we should ask whether Gnosticism made an appearance in the Middle Ages.

AlbigensiansWell, in fact, it did.  The Cathars and Albigensians managed to gain quite a foothold in Southern Europe between the 12th and 14th centuries.  Like the Red Woman’s religion — and here it is good to remember Davos Seaworth’s (Liam Cunningham) hard words about Melisandre being “a foreigner preaching a foreign religion” — their belief system came from the East, bringing with it the air of something new and exotic.  St. Dominic fought vigorously against this movement during his life; the Dominican Order,* which he founded for just that purpose, thrives to this day.

faith of the sevenThe attitude of the culture to which Albigensianism came toward its native Christianity was, for the most part, very similar to that of the people of Westeros toward their religion (which appears to be a paganized form of medieval Catholicism).  They held to it as a sort of solid cultural possession, but they didn’t believe in it in too profound a manner (that is, in such a way that it would affect their lives).  So if we are surprised at their susceptibility to something novel and exotic…well, we shouldn’t be.

As Gnostics, the Albigensians and Cathars eschewed the material and the idea that God could be present to it, let alone make Hiimself part of it via the Incarnation of Jesus Christ.  Some of them would publicly burn crucifixes in order to make their point…and here we go back to our first inquiry.  The Cathars were as ready to burn crucifixes as were Melisandre’s followers to burn the effigies of the seven.

*

Innocent VHere’s an interesting historical tidbit: Pope Innocent V (1225-1276) was the first priest from the Dominican Order to become Pope.  When he was elected, he brought the trademark white garments of the Dominicans to the papal office.  This started a whole new tradition…Pope_Francis_in_March_2013…and is why the Pope wears white to this very day.  I just thought it was interesting that such a familiar image came about as an indirect result of the phenomenon on which a key “Game of Thrones” character may be based.

Thanks for reading, and let’s keep an eye on that quirky priestess with the fire-kissed hair.

Images from “Game of Thrones” obtained through a Google image search; remaining images from Wikipedia

Read Full Post »

Game_of_Thrones_title_card

I do find “Game of Thrones” enjoyable.  I find the characters, the world, and the story intriguing…if more than a little ambiguous.  Many people compare the show to “The Lord of the Rings,” some with attention to how its underlying worldview differs.  I want to take a look at that in this post.

The interesting thing about medieval fantasy is the time period that inspires the genre — and even more, the setting that inspires its settings: Northwestern Europe — especially Great Britain, which seems to be the prototypical setting.

England has a fascinating literary history.  The stories bound up with its ancestral traditions were, of course, passed on orally at first.  And when they began to be written down, they were given their Christian interpretations in translation.  Not only were the scribes immortalizing the great myths by committing them to the scrolls, they were drawing out what they perceived to be the “seeds of the Word” in these myths.

Tolkien_1916Now we turn to J.R.R. Tolkien, who was a scholar of Anglo-Saxon language and literature.  Between his love for the lore and history of his country, his interest in how language is shaped by and shapes people’s lives and cultures, his tragic experiences as a child and as a young man, and his discovery of hope and solace in the faith given to him by the priests who cared for him as an orphan, he came to find a unique way of presenting Christianity to the modern world…not in a preachy or didactic way, but as something that speaks to the deepest heart, deepest hurts, deepest hopes and desires of mankind.

Hence, we have Middle-Earth and “The Lord of the Rings.”

George_R._R._Martin_signingLet’s admit that Westeros, the setting of George R.R. Martin’s “A Song of Ice and Fire,” is a little bit different.  On the surface, it does strike one as a “re-paganization” of fantasy.  We find ourselves in a world of many gods; and whenever a “true God” is proposed, this is usually regarded with great suspicion.

But I almost wonder if it is more of a postmodern fantasy.  Not that it necessarily adheres to the tenets of postmodernism, but it gives us a world that is deeply unsure of itself and groping for answers, albeit within a setting that reflects the genre’s pre-Christian roots.

Okay.  All that said, I can delve more deeply into “Game of Thrones.”

robb_stark_02The more I watch the HBO series, the more convinced I am (though I have felt this way from the start) that “Game of Thrones” does not celebrate spectacles of violence, savage lust, scheming, or betrayal.  The show can be difficult to watch at times, because our characters are living in a world rife with the brutality of old Europe and in which loyalty is fragile, people seek their own ends above all else, nearly no one can be trusted (at least not for sure), and there are almost no friends.

The Starks maintain a code of honor and goodness, but their family would seem to be an island amidst a great flood of divided loyalties.  Our friends in Westeros live in a dark and hard world, and no goodhearted person could be unaffected by that.

But there are here and there what I would like to call “moments of light,” shining intermittently and fleetingly like sunlight through passing storm clouds….

Tyrion_Shae

…whether it is Tyrion Lannister’s growing love for the prostitute Shae…

Tywin-and-Arya…Tywin Lannister’s father-daughter-like bonding with Arya Stark…

Cersei…Queen Cersei’s tender love for her children and regret over the grief her son Joffrey is causing everyone…

Tyrion-Lannister…Tyrion’s almost-effort to comfort her (or the “moment they almost have”)…

Stannis Baratheon…or Stannis Baratheon’s regret over killing his younger brother, who had been his opponent in the war for the Iron Throne.

Overall, I would say this: Good fiction, at its best, shows how the goodness of the human spirit can triumph even in the face of great obstacles, while at the same time not glossing over the ambiguity in human nature.  If we’re going to compare Tolkien and Martin, it seems we could say that “The Lord of the Rings” is more concerned with the former, and “Game of Thrones” with the latter.

Where there is life, there is hope, and the good always has a way, at least, of peaking its head in.  And I think we see that in Westeros.  So while it may not exactly resemble Tolkien’s vision of the Light of Faith illuminating the myths of men, it does give us shafts of golden dawn light illuminating the dark forest.

Top three images from Wikipedia; remaining images obtained through a Google image search

Read Full Post »

We began by looking at the heroic likeness between veterans and priests, and then proceeded to examine the reflection of priestly spirituality in J.R.R. Tolkien’s “The Lord of the Rings.”

Here are two additional works of art in which we get a glimpse at priestly heroism:

2. Game of Thrones

Jon-Snow-Jeor-MormontFor me, the “Night’s Watch” along Westeros’ Great Wall has an obvious connection with the priesthood.  Did author George R.R. Martin intend this?  Can’t say…but I know he was raised Catholic, and I’m sure the Marists who were responsible for his early education must have at least given him the “raw material” for this part of the story.

Here we have men who forgo the lives of husbands and fathers, leave their natural families behind, and together form a new family with a common purpose: Defending the Seven Kingdoms against supernatural enemies in which no one any longer believes (probably as a result of the complacency that has developed out of the safety they have enjoyed so long because of the Watch’s protection).  In the extreme cold of the North, deprived of common comforts and, for all intents and purposes, almost forgotten, they persevere in the face of dangers both natural and supernatural, and on their watch the Seven Kingdoms are kept safe.

One of my favorite scenes from the first season of the HBO series occurs in one of the last episodes.  Novice Jon Snow (Kit Harrington) attempts to leave the watch in order to help his brother, Rob Stark, in his battle against a usurper king.  Jeor Mormont (James Cosmo), the Lord Commander of the Watch, confronts him with this question: “Is your brother’s war more important than our war?”

He goes on to ask what difference it would make “who sits upon the Iron Throne” when the supernatural threat stirring in the North came upon the world.  Their war, like the war of our priests and of all believers, is with supernatural powers that stand outside the ages and threaten us all.

St. Paul puts it this way:

For our struggle is not with flesh and blood but with the principalities, with the powers, with the world rulers of this present darkness, with the evil spirits in the heavens. (Ephesians 6:12)

3. The Exorcist

max-and-miller-andsoitbeginsfilms-comFinally, we must look at what is arguably the most favorable portrayal of the priesthood in Hollywood in the last 40 years — a portrayal that occurs in what is arguably the most frightening movie of all time: William Friedkin’s adaptation of William Peter Blatty’s “The Exorcist.”

Most people hear “The Exorcist” and think of Regan MacNeil, the sweet-little-girl-turned-green-vomit-spouting-demon-possessed-monster.  But I think too few of us pay attention to the role of the two priests who drive the demon out of her: Fr. Merrin (Max von Sydow) and Fr. Damian Karras (Jason Miller).

SPOILER ALERT: Both priests die in the exorcism process (not unheard of, believe it or not).

Even prior to this, we see those heartbreaking scenes in which the demon torments Fr. Damian with the guilt and memory of his recently deceased mother.  (Indeed, that is something anyone who would participate in an exorcism is advised to be aware of.  The devils can read our thoughts, and they know our secrets.  Anyone directly involved in the exorcism process is fair game for this kind of thing.)

And then, at the end of the movie, freed from possession and ready to begin life anew with her mother, Regan encounters a priest in the street…and gives him a kiss on the cheek.  She realizes all too well that the collar is the mark of a brave and selfless warrior.

I want to make it clear that I am not in any way trying to take attention away from our military veterans.  By comparing our priests and our veterans, I only want to point out one of the many demonstrations of how the Church, while transcending history, nevertheless takes its place within history, uniting Herself to the world in its joys, hopes, sorrows, and struggles.

With these joys, hopes, etc. in mind, let’s end with this video:

Read Full Post »

First of all, Happy President’s Day!

Now, to business…

Part 1 was more in-depth than this post is going to be — this time I just want to look at some basic elements of leadership that distinguish good leaders from bad, as exemplified by Ned Stark and Joffrey Baratheon.

Again, please be aware that there are some spoilers here.

JoffreyWe covered bad kingship in our look at Joffrey’s father (though not his biological father, as we soon learn), Robert.  But unlike Robert, whose bad kingship is characterized more by a sort of laziness, Joffrey is a full-on tyrant whose mode of government is cold, deliberate, calculated force.

He, too, is a figure of the entrenched ego, but carried farther in the direction of its extreme.

Ned-Stark-Sean-Bean-Traitor

Ned Stark stands out as a good leader.  He is not perfect, by any means, but the way he exercises authority is exemplary and praiseworthy.  That he is not dominated by his own ego is suggested to me by the dungeon scene, which occurs after Ned is arrested on a false accusation of treason.

Rather than betray his honor, Ned is ready to die a warrior’s death.  True, he does end up acknowledging Joffrey’s kingship in order to save his family; whether or not this was the right decision can be debated, but his interest is clearly other-oriented, not self-oriented.

In any case, Ned has no interest in betraying his conscience to save his life.  He explains to Varys the eunuch that a soldier “knows how to die.”

Christians are called to die daily to selfishness by imitating this kind of detachment:

Whoever seeks to preserve his life will lose it, but whoever loses it will save it (Luke 17:33).

That’s precisely why Joffrey’s rule is one of terror and force: It’s all about him.  From his perspective, his ascent to the throne is not about service to the Seven Kingdoms, the protection of his subjects, or any transcendent principle.  It’s about his own exaltation, his own glory.

Eddard_1x01

Concern for the greater good on Ned’s part is further evidenced by the quality of mercy.  Ned is just, but he is no stranger to clemency.  In this he shows the depth of his magnanimity.  A true leader will be concerned about the common good, not his own aggrandizement.

And sometimes, the best way to serve the common good and to restore order is to reach out to perpetrators with the opportunity for redemption.

JohannesPaul2-portrait

In his great book “Go in Peace,” Pope John Paul II had this to say about the relationship between mercy and societal well-being:

Forgiveness neither eliminates nor lessens the need for the reparation that justice requires, but seeks to reintegrate individuals and groups into society, and countries into the community of nations.  No punishment should suppress the inalienable dignity of those who have committed evil.  The door to repentance and rehabilitation must always remain open.

Joffrey

The ego, however, cannot take such chances.  As far as it’s concerned, the only good enemy is a dead enemy.

Meanwhile, the good leader will give his neck to his enemy rather than betray his innate sense of what is right.  So we can say that even in death, Ned Stark triumphs over Joffrey Baratheon.

Image of Pope John Paul II from Wikipedia; others obtained through a Google image search.

Read Full Post »

logo-thrones-burning-game-hunt
Here is the second in a series of posts on HBO’s fantasy/adventure series “Game of Thrones” (third, if you count the introductory post, which I don’t).  Anyone interested in reading the first post can access it here: https://intothedance.wordpress.com/2013/01/31/kingship-and-power-in-game-of-thrones-robert-baratheon/

Please note that there are some spoilers here.

This installment will focus on the contrast in leadership between Eddard “Ned” Stark (Sean Bean), the main character of Season 1, and Joffrey Baratheon (Jack Gleeson), the young usurper of the High King’s throne.

In contrast to Robert Baratheon with his lazy egotism, Ned Stark shows us the qualities of a good king (even though he himself is only a lord).

Ned
In the show’s first episode, it falls to Ned to execute a criminal.  We can see that he does not enjoy this task, but he does it without wavering.

We might be forgiven for wondering, however, why he did not assign the task to an executioner.  Immediately after the execution, he explains to his young son, Bran, that a man must never pass any sentence unless he is willing to carry that sentence out himself.

joffrey-baratheon-1024Contrast him with Joffrey, who orders a minstrel’s tongue to be torn out after he sings a comedic song in which Joffrey’s mother, Queen Cersei, comes across badly.  Does Joffrey do the honors himself?  Nope.  He has his soldiers do it.

Ned's Execution

And then of course there is the scene in which he has Ned executed.  Joffrey gives the order, but the executioner does the honors.

Sansa-Stark-women-of-westeros-30785208-1023-571

It’s possible to interpret these instances in terms of regal propriety, but I think any such delusions are dispelled when we see Joffrey with his new queen, 13-year-old Sansa Stark (Sophie Turner).  Sansa makes the mistake of offending him at one point, and he remarks that it would be improper for a king to strike his queen.

So he turns to the guard accompanying them, and the guard promptly strikes Sansa on Joffrey’s behalf.

Obviously, a lot more could be said about both Ned and Joffrey.  But I wanted to start with this detail because it is particularly important when it comes to authority.  What makes the difference between a good leader and a bad leader here is the willingness to assume the greatest burdens of responsibility oneself.

It is, no doubt, hard to give an order of execution, but it is even harder to be the executioner.  I think this is just one instance of how Ned, as a good leader, ensures that the worst burdens of government fall on him rather than on his subordinates.  Joffrey, meanwhile, dispenses sentences of capital punishment very lightly (which I think is another mark of bad kingship — I’ll revisit that in Part 2), but apparently has no courage to take the burden of delivery upon himself.*

Christ_Carrying_the_Cross_1580

Ned’s model of kingship reflects the kingship of Christ, who went even further than carrying out the sentence due to mankind’s sins by actually submitting Himself to that sentence.  As the “Lamb of God,” He takes the sins of the world on Himself and becomes the living sacrifice, the offerer and the victim…the Priest of the human race.

GustaveDoreParadiseLostSatanProfile

Joffrey’s brand of authority, on the other hand, more closely resembles Satan’s.  Like Joffrey, Satan uses others to execute his enemies — he uses the authorities in Jerusalem, Pontius Pilate, and the Roman soldiers to kill Jesus.

“Rulers” such as Joffrey and Satan, for all their pomp and show of muscle, are cowards at heart.  The magnanimity of one like Ned Stark shows us what a true leader looks like.

*To be fair, I must restate that I have only seen the first season.

Images of “Christ Carrying the Cross” by El Greco and “Depiction of Satan” by Gustave Doré from Wikipedia; remaining images obtained through a Google image search.

Read Full Post »

Game-of-Thrones

For those who have not seen this series or read the books, please be aware that there are some spoilers in this post.

Before I begin, the first thing I want to comment on with regard to royalty and its attendant power in “Game of Thrones” is the Iron Throne itself, the seat of the High King, for which the great houses of the Seven Kingdoms vie passionately and furiously.

The Iron Throne, as “Ice and Fire” aficionados well know, is made from the weapons of vanquished enemies.  This, of course, brings to mind the throne from which Jesus Christ reigns: the Cross.  The Cross was the weapon of the worldly powers that put Him to death and, moreover, is permanently symbolic of the weapon wielded by the ultimate enemy (Satan) — namely, death itself.

As King of the New Creation, Christ has transformed the cross from a symbol of fear and death into a symbol of hope, and death itself from the end of life into the beginning of new and eternal life.  How’s that for taking the weapon of a vanquished enemy and making a throne out of it?

Now that I’ve given my $0.02 on that, let’s take a look at how different individuals take on the role of kingly leadership in “Game of Thrones.”

Robert-Baratheon-house-baratheon-29677198-1066-719

First, we have Robert Baratheon (Mark Addy), who we meet at the beginning of the series.  Robert has reigned as High King over the Seven Kingdoms for fifteen years.  We get the impression that he was once a great and noble warrior, but has since grown fat, lazy, and lecherous.  We might say that he has become far too comfortable with the privileges and luxuries of kingship.

David_Bathsheba

It may surprise many people, but a Biblical parallel to Robert Baratheon is King David, the prototype of Israelite monarchs himself.  The Second Book of Samuel portrays David as growing lax amid the comfort and security of his kingship, having been granted the throne of Israel and protection from his enemies by God:

At the turn of the year, when kings go out on campaign, David sent out Joab along with his officers and the army of Israel, and they ravaged the Ammonites and besieged Rabbah. David, however, remained in JerusalemOne evening David rose from his siesta and strolled about on the roof of the palace.

-2 Samuel 11:1-2 (italics mine)

David’s “stroll” is immediately followed by the beginning of his adulterous affair with Bathsheba, which in turn leads to the murder of her husband, Uriah.  David let his guard down against sin, and he is chastised for his resultant actions almost immediately:

Now, therefore, the sword shall never depart from your house…

-2 Samuel 12:10

The situation in which Robert Baratheon finds himself has some similarities to the consequences that follow David’s sin.

Joffrey

In his son, Prince Joffrey (Jack Gleeson), we have a sort of Absalom-like figure whose spirit of treason and rebellion threatens to undermine his father’s authority.

Jaime-Cersei-jaime-lannister-23339624-1226-816Also, Robert misses an incestuous relationship going on more or less right under his nose.  His Queen, Cersei (Lena Headey) — formerly of House Lannister — is having an affair with her twin brother, Jaime (Nikolaj Coster-Waldau).  Broadly speaking, this bears some similarity to an incident that occurs between two of King David’s children (David’s son, Amnon, rapes his daughter, Tamar).

Whatever similarities and differences there are, I think we can say this: The smugness and laxity that characterize the reigns of both King Robert and King David lead to and reinforce a sort of powerlessness on their parts.  Ultimately, this powerlessness leads to ruin (although there is redemption in David’s case).

Though this particular “flavor” of bad leadership differs from the raw and driven lust for power and domination that one sees in a Hitler or a Stalin, both derive from the same thing: The ego.

Robert Baratheon 2

A sad and telling aspect of King Robert’s brand of egotism is his paranoia with regard to any perceived threat to the security of his throne, which comes across most clearly in his fanatical obsession with finding and killing Daenerys Targaryen (Emilia Clarke).  Daenerys, by the way, is the exiled daughter of the former High King, from whom Robert won the crown by conquest.  When his loyal friend, Eddard Stark (Sean Bean), tries to talk sense to him, he writes him off as a traitor.

That’s the ego for you.  The ego would prefer to remain comfortably ensconced in its position of security, comfort, and/or power.  As such, it is hostile to any “outsiders” who might reach out to it, anyone or anything it perceives as a threat to its insulated existence.

For Robert, I think we can say that this insulated existence comes in the form of kingship.  And when this self-obsessed form of egotism is elevated to a high level of authority…well, let’s just say that in Robert’s case it is arguable that this becomes the catalyst for the upheaval that will soon overtake the Seven Kingdoms.

Stay tuned for reflections on more kingly figures from the world of Westeros.

Image of Paolo Veronese’s “Bathsheba at her Bath” from http://www.wikipedia.org.  Remaining images obtained through a Google image search.

Read Full Post »

Older Posts »