Finance Minister's estate?

Alright, so I’m going to try to post this video on my blog, which I hope you’ll all enjoy, but it may not work.

To give you a bit of background, the finance minister under Louis XIV was an accomplished fellow by the name of Fouquet, who had made himself the most wealthy man in all of France through his prudent and wide ranging investments. Accordingly, he was made the minister of finance, and helped the king put things in order.

Fouquet was sitting pretty as the minister of finance, and still the most wealthy man in France, so he decided to upgrade his home, and hired three architects whose names have currently escaped me to help him design and build up his luxurious new home at Veux Le Vicante.

As an important side note, Louis XIV, the great Sun-king of France, became king at age 5, and so he had a babysitter/regent helping him. For much of Louis’ youth it was another bloke by the name of Cardinal Mazarin—I pity the French for having the Catholics rule over them, and yes, I did just say that I pitied the French. You can put that one in the bank—who died when Louis was 22. Well, Louis appeared to the court and decided that he would be his own advisor (thus abolishing the position of prime minister, as had developed in France and continued to develop in England as the premier minister and advisor to the king, ending constitutional development, declaring himself monarch by divine right and sowing seeds for mischief in the future). The year was 1661.

Fouquet wanted to impress everyone with his new home, and Louis had been insisting to come see it for some time, so he held a grand ball to inaugurate it. Now, the black tie affairs you go to these days don’t hold a candle to this shindig. We’re talking about a serious party. Every man went home with a horse and every woman with a diamond set tiara as a party favor. You don’t have to invite many people for that to add up pretty quickly… It was August 17^th, 1661. Well, Louis came and was duly impressed. So impressed, in fact, that he felt a big shunted, and was terribly jealous of Fouquet. On September 4^th, he called his court and at court he imprisoned his finance minister and charged him with fraud and embezzlement. Well, it not being true, the judge had a tough time convicting him, so he was released after a lengthy trial.

Now we come full circle. Louis, being the terrible friend he was and desiring to show forth his strength and prove to his subjects that he was absolute despite being only 22, arrested Fouquet again. This time he was charged with a political crime (being possessed of state secrets from his stint as the finance minister), and was put in a prison in the Alps in the south of France. He was to remain in that prison until 1680, when he died. Talk about a raw deal; you give the king an inferiority complex about his house so he throws you in the slammer till you die. Incidentally, there was another political prisoner in the same prison who was there for roughly the same time period who wore an iron mask. Was it Leonardo de Caprio? No, sorry (although maybe we’d have been better off if he was left with the iron mask on after they were done), but it might have been Fouquet. Given that the man in the iron mask wore an iron mask all the time, it was tough to tell who it really was, but I think that was the point of the whole exercise.

Also, Louis hired the same three architects to design him his own country home which was to not be outdone—Versailles. It was this encounter with Fouquet that encouraged the construction of Versailles to prove that the King was still first in the land. First in extravagance, first in vengeance, and first to push his country into war. That was the way of Louis XIV. Poor Fouquet just got in his way.

Well, although Fouquet never really got the chance to enjoy his country mansion, luckily I did. We rented golf carts and tore around the beautifully (and oh-so-austerely) laid out French gardens (I prefer the English gardens, but that should hardly come as a surprise to any of you). I have tried to post the video of us in the golf cart…. I think I’ll let it speak for itself. J There was another part where there was an unfortunate accident that ought not to be talked about in a public forum, but if you want the story I’ll tell you sometime later. I’ll just say that it involves hairpin turns, broken wood and pushing the golf cart…

And speaking of England vs France, guess who was at the France/England football match last Wednesday? Yes, yes, Beckham was there, thanks for asking. That wasn’t who I was talking about, though. Come on, I scored as many goals as he did! In fact, I scored as many goals as his whole team combined, times five. Give me a break. Peh-shaw! That’s what I think of their football. Who plays football with their feet after all? American football is where it’s at. Anyway, I’m sorry to report that France did win, and that I have France’s only goal on video on my camera. I won’t post it, because I’d hate to bring shame to the English like that. There was a lot of cheering, a lot of hollering, and much rejoicing. I doubt that the four guys dressed up as English knights with chain mail and red capes were celebrating, though.

Yesterday, Saturday, I had a lovely day. I went to the Musee d’Orsay again and saw every room in it. Afterward I went and sat on a bridge over the Seine and read accounting for about 4 hours. It was a really fun day. (See the picture looking over the Seine from the bridge—that was my view all day). I figure I ought to take advantage of being in Paris as much as I can. I have also posted a pretty picture of Notre Dame I think you’ll all appreciate. This was right after I went to mass (it was an interesting experience—I figure that after living almost two and a half years in catholic countries, I maybe ought to see what their most basic ceremony is like, eh?). Lastly, from the top of Notre Dame, there is my favorite gargoyle. I don’t think I need to explain. J

There was another happy occurrence this week; there was another red day. Turns out, though, they only have 20 a year they can dish out to us, and they’ve used up their last one. Ding dong the witch is dead! Hallelujah! I can’t tell you how much it stinks to use that little hose in the cold, no heat… Well, all I have to say is that if the old adage is true that the Germans invade France because they can’t get any good weather over there, they must be in a sorry state indeed, as I’ve only seen the sun for some three days over the last 75 days or so I’ve been here…

Today I went to Notre Dame and watched (or rather, heard) an organ concert with some friends. It was splendid. I’m not sure that I appreciate the organ as an artful instrument as much as the piano or the violin, per se, but it was a very enjoyable afternoon. And I stopped through the Louvre to see the Vermeers, the Mona Lisa, and Winged Victory. We’ll be meeting in a new museum from now on, so I’m not sure how many more times I’ll get to go to the Louvre. Gotta take advantage!

Oh, and there’s a picture of me in front of the Gates of Hell. I always knew it would be in Paris…. (I mean, after all, Rodin was a Frenchman. Where else would his art end up? What were you thinking of? Sinner….)

La vie est belle!

P.S. Looks like I can't post the video, so sorry!