Warmest thanks to my Austrian correspondent in Los Angeles, who sends this news about a most interesting auction. See the Christies announcement in full here, and see my comments at the end of this post in italics.
When I first moved to Mexico, I was annoyed, frankly, by the amount of time it took people to eat here.
Ever since C.M. Mayo’s The Last Prince of the Mexican Empire came into my hands a year ago last May, via Baltimore of all places, my reading life hasn’t been the same. Entire evenings would be spent hanging out at the Maximilian von Mexiko page, reading through the bibliography, following the links, and even plunging into more research. And now, Mayo’s dedicated a new blog, Maximilian-Carlota, for researchers of the tumultuous period of Mexico known as the Second Empire.
The Empress of the Farewells proved to be an exhaustive history of her life, but it still left me with questions to ponder. What was the real extent of Carlota’s madness – bad chemicals, circumstance, poisoning, or a matter of everyone being mean to her? Really now, wouldn’t you be just a little bit crazy if you went through all that she did? Did Maximilian and Carlota each produce out-of-wedlock progeny?
Going back in the other direction, Agustin de Iturbide, whose son begat the last prince, came from Morelia. Why can’t I find a fascinating biography of him? And why doesn’t Morelia celebrate him, whom I consider the real hero of independence, the problem-solver, as much as it does our other hometown hero, Jose Maria Morelos y Pavon?
How would you like to be named “Distinguished Tourist of the Year,” win an all-expense paid trip to Mexico for your family and pocket $25,000MN?
I spent my undergrad years painting dorm rooms to pay my tuition and graduated from college in 1976. After four years of pulling all-nighters to write papers and study for exams, my schooling was complete; I figured it was time to get an education. I set about reading all of the books that I never had time to read when I was a student and quickly amassed a formidable library of mostly paperback books. I went in for concrete-block-and-board shelves and lined the walls of a one-bedroom apartment in mid-town Omaha.
At the risk of sending nativists to the fainting couch with an attack of the vapors, here's a scene from the Fourth of July in New York City, on the downtown 1 train – the one that goes to the Statue of Liberty Ferry. Our favorite moment is at :54, where the guy with the Guadalupe tattoo gives them a buck.