France represents all things mysterious and seductive for us Englanders.
We’ve never quite understood the Gauls, and we’d love their innate style. This grudging admiration pops its head above the parapet throughout our country’s fiction and folklore: like that bewitching, beguiling Princess of France and her entourage in Shakespeare’s Love’s Labour’s Lost.
She and her ladies are on a diplomatic mission to the tiny state of Navarre, and they meet its King and his courtiers who have just vowed to eschew women for serious study.
And one of the courtiers, Lord Boyet, makes a flowery show of words. Her beauty, he vows, was the result of all nature’s gifts being bestowed on her, while the remainder of the human race was neglected.
She rounds on him immediately:
“Good Lord Boyet, my beauty, though but mean,
Needs not the painted flourish of your praise:
Beauty is bought by judgement of the eye,
Not utter’d by base sale of chapmen’s tongues…”
Beauty, bought by judgement of the eye: a snatched phrase from the pen of a consummate master, beauty to my ears.
Others prefer plain speaking.
One of the most well known phrases of the English language is first quoted by Margaret Wolfe Hungerford. She was a Cork girl, daughter of a canon at St Faughnan’s Cathedral, and mother of a large and rambling family, and she never travelled far from her beloved county.
She had a knack for writing: not deep, profound stuff, but light, entertaining romances which leapt off the shelves as soon as they were published. She wrote prolifically, often to commission; she captured perfectly the banter of the smart set; and her novels were often published under the name “The Duchess.”
She used a phrase in her most popular novel, ‘Molly Bawn’, which must have been in common usage at the time: Lady Stafford has just arrived at a house party and enquires after a family cousin whose beauty is renowned.”Beauty”, replies heroine Molly’s cousin, Marcia, in reply, “is in the eye of the beholder.”
Two ways of saying the same thing. One, to me, sounds succinct and mundane; the other star-gazy and inspired. Beauty, it seems, must also be bought by judgement of the ear.
Today I had an object lesson: what others see as beautiful may not be beheld as beautiful in my own eye.
We went bear building.
You know those ‘factories’: you pick a bear, still without its stuffing; you choose a noise to go inside, and kiss a heart to be included too. You choose accessories: hats, boots, tutus, y-fronts, you name it, Build-A Bear has them all. The glitzy world of the unnecessary is there for the taking.
My daughter is an owl obsessed pre-teen with a foot in the child camp and a tentative toe in the world of the grown-up. Delightedly, she pounced on a snowy owl with long teddy-legs. Surveying it, expecting the wave of distaste to wash over me, I found they never did: I quite liked this form of owl. Owl-legs are much longer than these creatures would have us believe anyway.
But then I watched as it all went pear-shaped. For the bear building company had provided all manner of attire for our creations. And of all the accessories in all the bear factories in all the world, she had to choose these: sexy black slingbacks.
Indescribable, the responses of both Phil and I to a stuffed owl with shapely long legs and slingbacks- high heeled black court shoes with straps at the back. And not another stitch on.
We’ve all see Dr Frank N Furter in the Rocky Horror Picture show. And so the grown ups were speechless, a most rare event, as we surveyed Maddie’s idea of beauty. We each knew what the other was thinking, which was odd, because it definitely wasn’t in words. It was a sort of helpless rocky horror.
Meanwhile, my son had been busy with his idea of beauty.
It will come as little surprise that an eight year old boy chose combat-bear camouflage fabric. He, too, chose a heart but when ordered to kiss it he politely declined.
The sound was a shoo-in. Among the tweets and clucks and greetings and heartbeats, there was one button which offered a rousing rendering of the Star Wars theme. A slow grin spread over Felix’s face. This was his kind of sound.
He made quick work of dismantling my no-accessories proviso. For at the end of the display was a diminutive Obi Wan Kenobi outfit. He had Phil in the palm of his small hand: they both wanted it immediately.
Phil was a little peeved because the Dark Side seems to prevail, here at the Bear Factory. For while the Darth Vader outfit came with a light sabre (or is it dark sabre?) Kenobi’s getup was bereft of The Force. No light sabres for him.
The rest of the day, for the children, has been spent with the new apples of their eyes.
And Phil and I can only watch, mute and disbelieving, at the differences between the beauty they behold, and the judgement of our eyes.
Written in response to Side View’s weekend theme, ‘Beauty’. You can find her challenge here
Kate Shrewsday 
Can’t stand the French. They think they are the axis of the planet and center of the universe. They only thing they offer on the world scene are contrary opinions which gum up everything everyone else wants to do.
…and some really epic lorry driver strikes, too, Carl, don’t forget those!!
I find French of the needs-to-be-excused type quite handy when hitting my finger with a hammer or things of the sort.
I notice a slight difference in your treatment of the ‘Beauty in the eye …’ phrase we both chose to include! 🙂
The bear and owl assembly sounds like a very serious process. Er … what’s a slingback? Hurling something back that has been slung at one?
Nope, a deeply unsuitable court shoe with strap at the back and a heel…..not owl-wear by any stretch of the imagination….loved your take on this one, and still puzzling over your novel opener…
I love Obi Wan Kenobi-bear. Pity about the light sabre.
The owl, of course, is a hoot! 😀
🙂 LOL hoot is definitely the word, Nancy.
Felix called his teddy O-bear Wan Kenobi. I’m practising it lots so it rolls off the tongue 😀
Aha, the Build-a-Bear franchise has crossed the pond, has it? I have one. Our younger daughter gave me one so I could hug it when I missed her when she left for college. Sigh. Then, she made one for her godmother. Sigh. I think it is time I made one for Kezzie, but, no sling backs.
I love to hear of you and your kids adventures – all the better when Phil is involved.
It’s not often he’s speechless, Penny, but that owl’s footwear did the trick!
We have built our bear too, his name is Elvis and his wardrobe is bigger than mine, complete with surgical scrubs a la Dr McDreamy from Grey’s Anatomy. These bears will bankrupt the world yet, wait and see.
You can get a McDreamy kit? I feel a return visit coming on!
I thought the beholder phrase was Shakespeare. You learn something new every day, especially here in Katesville.
Love the bears 🙂
Bear building… ‘what ever next?’ ! (phrase borrowed from one of my favourite children’s stories)
Can the owl kick off her shoes when she wants to go to bed? I mean they are not very cuddly, are they, hard shoes?
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Whatever-Next-Jill-Murphy/dp/033363621X#reader_033363621X
Lovely book….cardboard boxes and colanders have never seemed the same since reading this!
Whatever next indeed, Pseu! The shoes come off rather too easily, actually. I am finding them in disparate corners of the house; I think the owls days as a rocky horror owl are numbered.
Just as well?
Quite 😀
Perhaps the owl is Hedwig! After all, we don’t know what exactly she does when not delivering the mail to Harry – and maybe she takes a few detours on the way – in the red-light district?
As to your quote, there is also David Hume’s “Beauty in things exists merely in the mind which contemplates them.” But you are right – still not quite a succinct and “roll-off-the-tougueish” as Hungerford’s!
“Build-a-Bear Workshops” were not around when my kids were the right age, but I expect to be taking our Zoë some day in the not too far future!
The thought of Hedwig with dodgy leisure pursuits involving high heels and red light districts is most unsettling, Paula! Hope Zoe enjoys her first bear building session the minute she’s able.
I am completely out of the loop. I have never even heard of bear building before.
Probably best, Rosemary. A great deal of money spent on fripperies: although as a birthday present for someone who adores teddies it’s a new angle.
I love that you let your kids decide themselves exactly what they want and don’t try to be directive.
Tim Curry was pretty sexy though, wasn’t he…
He was, Earlybird, he was that.
Oh Bear Wan Kenobi – now that’s beautiful! And I’m wondering if the black slingback is part of the uniform of the the flight attendants on British Flapways….
Maddie confirms it is, Patti 🙂 How these children keep us rooted in humour….
Love Maddie’s owl – c’est très bizarre 🙂
That is the perfect word for it, BB 🙂
Loved this post! I am a Shakespeare girl, that’s for certain. His turn of phrase and lyrical poetic sense gets me every time. Interesting, though, about ‘The Duchess’. I’ve often been tempted to take my grandkids to one of those build-a-bear shops, but have never done it. Reading your description of your children’s delight and seeing how cute the bears are I just might have to cave — perhaps this Christmas.
It was certainly a crash course in random bear production 😀 Enjoy your visit. Hope you and the grandchildren are enjoying those holidays!
‘no accessories proviso’ 🙂 I’m not surprised that didn’t last- the build-a-bears in this house have reading glasses, a guitar and microphone, several handbags and sets of shoes, though no slingbacks as yet, and goodness knows what else. The challenge is to try and keep the small folk away from the very lurid, singing bears. We’d done well at that until they went with Nana and Grandad one day…
And that’s where it all falls down, doesn’t it, Fiona? We had a granny with us…..and my pathetic attempts at damage limitation were doomed….
Oh, they are both so cute, I can’t choose! Must admit, though, that I wouldn’t, in my wildest dreams, have imagined either combination 😀
LOVE the owl legs! You’re right, owls can have some pretty hefty “feather pants”. Although, this owl reminds me of a koala somehow…:)
I know what you mean 😀 There is definitely a resemblance….Lovely to have you over ,Snaphappier. Those pictures….well…they were just amazing. Those first moments are so precious. All the best to you: and yours.