With all the talk and blah blah blah in the air about this holiday known as memorial day, I thought that I would think back to some people who are really worth remembering- not the nameless, faceless masses who waved the flag to their unnecessary and early graves in the name of "freedom" (the catchword of politics), but rather those who fought ever so valiantly (and sometimes, not so successfully during their own lives) for the cause of Literary Freedom and glory. It so happens that four of these happen to be buried in the same place (Pere Lachaise in Paris), alongside many politicians and military figures who are but a mere footnote or are merely forgotten (and to see the pomp of the political/military graves attest to their even more tragic impotence to retain memory after they were gone, as nobody was around to wave their flag any longer.)
But, no matter- time may not even be the judge, or "society" or "the masses", for they constitute an accumulation of no matter. Instead, to read but a little of Proust, Balzac, Colette and/or dear Oscar (Wilde), these would be enough to bring anyone with even an ounce of wisdom or beauty of soul to stand at attention and salute. These are real Heroes.
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| entrance to Pere Lachaise (one of them, at least) |
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| dear Oscar |
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| Mon cher Marcel |
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| the great Balzac |
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