Wikipedia:Reference desk/Archives/Humanities/2007 June 20

Humanities desk
< June 19 << May | June | Jul >> June 21 >
Welcome to the Wikipedia Humanities Reference Desk Archives
The page you are currently viewing is an archive page. While you can leave answers for any questions shown below, please ask new questions on one of the current reference desk pages.


June 20 edit

classical music online edit

Are there any web sites which offer the opportunity to listen to classical music, either whole pieces (which I doubt) or sample passages? For example, I was reading about Dvořák's Cello Concerto and would like to get an idea of what it sounds like. --Halcatalyst 02:08, 20 June 2007 (UTC)[reply]

For the Cello Concerto, try http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PsS8jvFrLKs: Dvorak: Cello Concerto, Op.104 (Part 1). Miklos Perenyi plays Antonin Dvorák's Cello Concerto, Op.104 with Orchestra Della Svizzera Italiana led by Urs Schneider. You'll also see links to Parts 2 and 3. I don't know a "portal" for this, but for a well-known piece a Google search generally leads pretty quickly to results.  --LambiamTalk 06:10, 20 June 2007 (UTC)[reply]
www.classiccat.com is the best that I know of, and it's generally free. 66.112.244.146 06:38, 20 June 2007 (UTC)MelancholyDanish[reply]
  • BBC3 has a website and does both full concerts and bits and pieces.Also good programmes about classical music.hotclaws 09:28, 20 June 2007 (UTC)[reply]

Thank you all. I was able to listen to parts of the piece, though the cadenza to the third movement, which I was especially interested in, cut off unexpectedly. --Halcatalyst 13:18, 20 June 2007 (UTC)[reply]

Maybe you should look into podcasts, and you could start with NPR's list of classical music shows, at here. Llamabr 15:43, 20 June 2007 (UTC)[reply]
The Naxos website offers audio samples from the company's recordings, selectable by composer. Hearing an entire movement requires a (modest) subscription fee. Also: if you read music notation, there are websites offering free downloads of many compositions, though my brief search just now didn't succeed in locating the particular one you seek. - Deborahjay 08:05, 23 June 2007 (UTC)[reply]

hopeless? edit

Wow. I'm pretty impressed with the humanities desk, which I just discovered today. I have this question that's been bothering me for weeks and I can hardly believe I found somewhere to ask it. The question: I found in a book I can no longer remember a description of a once-popular engraving (or lithograph, or some other sort of print, and I can speculate about what book I was reading if that's helpful.) The print was described as depicting a soldier kneeling down in an effort to shoo his devoted dog away from where the two were situated, which was before a firing squad. How can I track down this most haunting image I have never seen? Cyrusc 08:45, 20 June 2007 (UTC)[reply]

Is it this one? Adam Bishop 14:30, 20 June 2007 (UTC)[reply]
The person depicted there is supposedly Louis-Antoine-Henri de Bourbon-Condé, duc d'Enghien – not just any soldier. The lithograph is said to be by "Job", which may possibly refer to Jacques-Marie Gaston Onfroy de Breville (1858-1931)[1] (no Wikipedia article).  --LambiamTalk 15:49, 20 June 2007 (UTC)[reply]

As I have said once before: Wow. Cyrusc 22:45, 20 June 2007 (UTC)[reply]
Thank you. Cyrusc 22:47, 20 June 2007 (UTC)[reply]

Now if I could only remember edit

Where I was reading about this lithograph of Louis-Antoine-Henri de Bourbon-Condé, duc d'Enghien.... :-) Cyrusc 22:47, 20 June 2007 (UTC)[reply]

British labour laws edit

Recent discussion on the subject of the new European treaty, the UK had a point unknown to me, something akin to the following:

"If Human Rights are anchored within a European treaty, Europe will be able to change UK labour laws."

Specifically, the right to strike was mentioned. What is so special about the labour laws in the UK that they do not want to change, and what (proposed) Human Rights do those laws violate then?

--User:Krator (t c) 10:11, 20 June 2007 (UTC)[reply]

Have a look at this article. The biggest issue is that UK laws do not provide an absolute right to strike, whereas the European charter guarantees this right. UK laws place restrictions on strikes. British employers do not want those restrictions removed. Their argument is that this would undermine labour market flexibility by exposing employers who eliminate positions to the threat of strike (and thereby discouraging employers from creating new positions for fear that they will not be able to cut them later). Presumably British trade unions would not object to removing restrictions on their right to strike. Marco polo 21:34, 20 June 2007 (UTC)[reply]
Thanks. Popularly, most people support the right to strike. Leaving the right to strike in the European treaty would greatly increase Labour (party)'s chances of winning a referendum. Something they have troubles with. Strange. --User:Krator (t c) 22:00, 20 June 2007 (UTC)[reply]
Krator, it might help you to understand this issue a little better if you examined the history of post-war British industrial relations, specifically the development of the labour movement. By the 1970s the economy was being crippled by strike action, legal and illegal. Trade unions were becoming ever more subject to a militant and unrepresentative political minority. More and more they were inclined to take 'secondary action', supporting strikes even in industries outwith their own. Wage settlements were well in excess of inflation, producing an ever downward spiral in the value of the pound. Both the Labour government of Harold Wilson and the Conservative government of Edward Heath made some attempt to bring the situation under control, by introducing restrictions on certain forms of strike action. They failed. In 1979, following the so-called Winter of Discontent, for many the nadir of post-war British politics, Margaret Thatcher was elected on a platform that included the reform of trade union law. For once Britain had a politician with sufficient determination to do as she promised. Bit by bit a variety of reforms were introduced: secondary industrial action was banned, as was the closed shop. Most important of all, real power was returned to the ordinary trade union members, with postal ballots replacing those at the work-place prior to strike action. The number of work-days lost through strikes decreased markedly, and illegal action all but disappeared. As a result, the British economy made a marked recovery throughout the 1980s: inflation decreased and exports boomed. Mrs. Thatcher's trade union legislation was so popular that Tony Blair, the first Labour Prime Minister since James Callaghan, pledged himself to keep it in place. And so it remains to this day. I cannot see Gordon Brown taking a different view. No-one wants a return to the industrial anarchy of the 1970s; no-one wants a return of unbridled trade union power.
I am not quite sure what referendum you are referring to? Would this be the same referendum on the European Constitution rejected in France and the Netherlands? I hate making predictions, but I think I can guarantee that the British people will reject the said Constitution, social chapter and all, if the question is ever put to us. I know I will. Strange, isn't it? Clio the Muse 00:00, 21 June 2007 (UTC)[reply]
Clio, thanks for the wonderful historical review, which does help to explain British resistance to this proposed charter. As I understand it, the proposed charter is or may be part of a new Treaty on European Union put forth by the Amato Group to replace both the existing Treaty on European Union and the rejected Treaty establishing a Constitution for Europe. Based on what I've read in The Economist, leading European politicians hope that this trimmed-down treaty can be passed by national parliaments without going through the messy business of referenda (except in Ireland where a referendum is legally mandated for treaties involving Europe). According to this article, both Tony Blair and Gordon Brown are standing firm against a treaty that includes the labour provisions. Apparently, Britain's Conservative Party has called for a referendum, but if Brown negotiates a treaty that Labour can accept, they will probably attempt to shepherd it through Parliament without a referendum. Marco polo 01:16, 21 June 2007 (UTC)[reply]
I do envy you in the United States, Marco, where, it seems to me, that there is far more substance and much less empty apperance to democracy. Above all, you are far less subject to the scheming and manipulation of unrepresentative bureaucrats. Sorry to sound so cynical, but I think you already know how I see the danger we Europeans are in. Alas, this "blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England" see what lies ahead! Clio the Muse 01:51, 21 June 2007 (UTC)[reply]
Interestingly, Clio's analysis, which I largely agree with is a rare view, and Thatcher is largely a hate figure in Britain, especially in former coal mining areas. However many Eastern european countries, for example, would like their own Thatcher, with a 'cruel to be kind' economic reform policy. Maybe Nicolas Sarkozy will do a similar job in France, a country with many strikes and strong labour laws, and apparently, Wine-growing Terrorist threats! Taking industrial action to a new level. I would disagree about American democracy though, they may not have our Eurocrats and 'Tony's Cronies' (unelected advisors with more power than some cabinet ministers, in Blair's presidential approach to the prime minister's office) but the power of rich party donors seems even more, with presidential pardons instead of lordships. Cyta 07:56, 21 June 2007 (UTC)[reply]
Cyta, as an American, I am as pessimistic about American democracy as Clio is about British or European democracy. As you point out, we have an oligarchy not of bureaucrats or Eurocrats but rather of plutocrats. And presidential pardons are the least of it. Much more alarming is the legislation and policy enacted to advance the interests of rich donors. Marco polo 17:25, 21 June 2007 (UTC)[reply]
Restarting indents Thank you for the comments all. Much enlightening. If I understand it correctly, I see that the labour laws in the UK are "holy cows", akin to what here in the Netherlands would be the AOW (universal pensions) and the tax deductibility of Mortgage interest. I consider my initial question answered, though comments are always welcome. --User:Krator (t c) 09:35, 21 June 2007 (UTC)[reply]

Russian story or novel edit

I'm trying to remember the name and author of a story or novel set during the 1917 Russian Revolution. It's a satire or a comedy. It features a group of peasants paying homage to a classical statue in the mistaken impression that it is Karl Marx. Any ideas? He who must be obeyed 11:37, 20 June 2007 (UTC)[reply]

This is Comrade Churygin Has The Floor, a short story by Yevgeny Zamyatin, written in the 1920s. Under the leadership of Yegor, a veteran who has lost both legs in the War, and Stepka, who brings the gospel of Marx from far away Petersburg, the peasants invade the gardens of Tarantayev, the local landowner. Stepka is about to take an axe to a statue holding a spear, when the barin, who is being held prisoner by the angry peasants, objects: "This is a precious statue, innocent of any guilt, and maybe that I brought it overland all the way from Rome itself, as it's a countless, costly image by the name of Mars." Stepka immediately announces that this is the very image of the 'dear name', none other than Marx himself. So the peasants doff their hats and parade around with the Roman god of war and "after it comes the dawn of an entirely class-conscious day." Read it, one and all; it's brilliant, as are all of Zamyatin's stories. Clio the Muse 00:24, 21 June 2007 (UTC)[reply]
Zounds! I'd like to know just how you did that, Clio! Unless, the simplest answer, you just happen to have read Comrade Churygin Has The Floor. Sometimes you make me beam with admiration. --Wetman 02:17, 21 June 2007 (UTC)[reply]
Just sometimes, Wetman? Yes, the simplest answer is usually the right answer: I have read Comrade Churygin Has The Floor in a Zamyatin collection, entitled The Dragon and Other Stories, published by Penguin Modern Classics. I have it in my hand right now (well, not right now!), with a detail from a painting by B. M. Kustodiev, Moscow Inn, on the front cover! Clio the Muse 02:38, 21 June 2007 (UTC)[reply]
Is that the same as Eugene Zamyatin? If so, I'm pleased to learn of the collection. I've read We and enjoyed it quite a bit, and I was surprised to learn that he was famous in the Soviet Union not for any of his writing, but for involvement in state television. At any rate, if it's a Penguin, it's findable. If it's findable, I want to get it. Utgard Loki 13:01, 21 June 2007 (UTC)[reply]
If you click on your own link, you'll see that it was indeed the same person. As for his writing, We wasn't published in the Soviet Union anyway until 1989 (according to Britannica). Given that, I'm surprised he was famous there for anything. The Mad Echidna 02:06, 23 June 2007 (UTC)[reply]

Flags edit

Which countries in Europe have tricolour (three-colour) flags. Do flags of Belarus and Bosnia and Herzegovina be accepted as tricolour flags?

See tricolour and Gallery of sovereign-state flags. --Kainaw (talk) 15:35, 20 June 2007 (UTC)[reply]
In addition to these articles, the 'Flags of the World' website might be of use as well: http://www.crwflags.com/fotw/flags/ Random Nonsense 15:40, 20 June 2007 (UTC)[reply]

Cheddar cheese edit

Are Cheddar cheeses produced in any countries except the United Kingdom?

From Cheddar cheese:
--User:Krator (t c) 18:05, 20 June 2007 (UTC)[reply]
I have always understood tasty cheese to be short for "tasty cheddar cheese". It is used because Australians eat so much of the stuff (and have such incredibly basic interests in things) that it is usually classified in the simplest way, according to strength. If someone just says "cheese", there is at least a fair chance they mean cheddar. The Mad Echidna 23:09, 20 June 2007 (UTC)[reply]
Just a trip to the dairy section of my local grocery store tells me that there are quite a few locally made cheddars in Vermont. Cabot Creamery is especially well known around here for their cheddar. Dismas|(talk) 02:44, 21 June 2007 (UTC)[reply]

I am trying to better understand the concept of the Soul. Aristotle argues that as with a knife the soul dies with the body considering the act of cutting to be the soul of the knife. I argue, however, that while this is true for the knife that was destroyed it is not true for the concept of the knifes utility function, i.e., cutting, which can be reincarnated by producing another knife. When you expand on this idea and say for instance that the purpose of the knife is to kill people then when the knife is destroyed the concept of killing is not and may be reincarnated by say the production of a gun. So it appears that in fact the soul of an object or person exists in spirit unable to act until reincarnated as the soul of a new form. Is this the essence of the soul or do I need to keep reading? 71.100.3.132 18:31, 20 June 2007 (UTC)[reply]

From what you describe of Aristotle's work, it seems that the concept of cutting is not generalized; that is to say, the act of cutting for that knife depends upon the existence of the knife itself. Other knives can cut, just as other human bodies can act (motivated by whatsoever forces motivate them), but one knife cannot cut for another, just as one body cannot live for another. You can produce another knife and cut something, but it won't be the same cut as would have been produced by the initial knife. In a sense it's like ballistics; (since you brought up killing) you can shoot an individual with a number of guns, but each barrel leaves unique signature marks on the bullets it fires. Zahakiel 18:39, 20 June 2007 (UTC)[reply]
Yes but the "signature marks" are not the soul of the bullet but rather a property the bullet has. 71.100.3.132 18:45, 20 June 2007 (UTC)[reply]
That's right. Something unique about that gun had given the bullets a particular property. Likewise, if that gun were destroyed and the bullets fired from another you would get bullets being fired, but they would not have been fired with the same unique act of "firing" as the previous gun would have supplied. In essence, Aristotle is saying that the act of cutting unique to that knife dies with the knife. The analogy would be that the soul of an individual - the spiritual properties associated with that body - die with the body. Another body may act in a way similar to the first, but this would not be a case of re-incarnation, because the unique properties of that soul are different than the original. Zahakiel 19:08, 20 June 2007 (UTC)[reply]
Your reflections above are not, in my opinion, about the concept of a soul. They rather remind me of the concept of Platonic idealism (which is not an "ideology", but the "theory of Ideas"). Reading the article I just linked will provide you with more information, but to summarize, Plato argues that every object in the real world is an instance of an abstract Idea. That Idea is unchanging and perfect. For example, all trees in the world are instances of the platonic Idea "Tree". In your examples above, the "concept of killing" would be what Plato describes as "the Idea of killing". In the same line of reasoning, after destructing one knife, a new one would be a new instance of the Idea "knife". (Note that the word instance here is translated from Dutch, and that English philosophy might use another word for it.)
I have personally only read Aristotle in translation, which means I am less familiar with the subject matter. I think you are on the wrong track here, as the concepts of "Soul" and "Idea" (or concept, as you phrased it above) are distinct. The contrast is that a soul is unique to an individual (see the first sentence of Soul), and that the concept or idea is something shared between several individuals. Common sense also confirms this: there is not a single "soul" all humans have, for example.
However, as I previously said, I have only read Aristotle in Dutch translation, and therefore I may be horribly misinterpreting your question. --User:Krator (t c) 18:50, 20 June 2007 (UTC)[reply]
The work in question is called "De Anima" in Latin, which it has somehow retained in English translations, though it is neither our language nor Aristotle's. There appears to be some confusion in this thread that comes from two equally valid, but quite different, definitions of the soul. There is the one we use now, and the concept as employed by Aristotle in the aforementioned work. I don't know which one exactly the OP wanted to know about, but soul, as mentioned above, is a good place to start with for the spiritual version. The Aristotelian version is indeed related to Platonic idealism, but if I've understood it rightly, it is Aristotle's elaboration of the idea, as applied mainly to living things. The best place to read a good overview is the introduction to the Penguin Classics edition - it's simple and to the point. Our article, On the Soul, which covers De Anima, though not comprehensively, is also a good quick summary. This article links to the complete text (external links section). For the edification of the casual reader of this thread, I've included the delightful first sentence: "Holding as we do that, while knowledge of any kind is a thing to be honoured and prized, one kind of it may, either by reason of its greater exactness or of a higher dignity and greater wonderfulness in its objects, be more honourable and precious than another, on both accounts we should naturally be led to place in the front rank the study of the soul." (trans. J.A. Smith) The Mad Echidna 00:58, 21 June 2007 (UTC)[reply]
Can i recommend James Brown, Stevie Wonder and anything by Motown Records Perry-mankster 09:21, 21 June 2007 (UTC)[reply]
Whereas it's true that those works also survive the death of their respective instruments... Zahakiel 14:10, 21 June 2007 (UTC)[reply]

Media Comparisons edit

What is it called when the media compares an event to something stupid like Whack-A-Mole instead of comparing it to a serious event along the lines of [2]. Thanks, Jeffrey.Kleykamp 18:36, 20 June 2007 (UTC)[reply]

Opinion 71.100.3.132 18:46, 20 June 2007 (UTC)[reply]
Satire? --User:Krator (t c) 18:52, 20 June 2007 (UTC)[reply]
No, even though satire is close, I mean when the media doesn't compare an event with a historical event and chooses instead to compare it to something unintelligent like Whack-A-Mole, and I don't mean the daily show reporting it. Jeffrey.Kleykamp 19:01, 20 June 2007 (UTC)[reply]
Unintentionally ludicrous uses of metaphor or simile is best referred to as Bathos. (I wrote a fair article there, once, but it has since been changed and changed and changed, and it's not necessarily as easy to understand, or as consistent, as it needs to be, but I'm trying to be all polite and stuff and not change it back, I mean.... Uh. Bathos.) Bathos is the accidental comparison of the very high (a serious political act) with the very low (a carnival game) to produce wretchedness that can be funny to an ironic view. Geogre 19:09, 20 June 2007 (UTC)[reply]
Nice word Bathos. I will use that word some time in a debate. If you are writing a speech or something like that on the subject, depending on your audience (whether they know the word bathos), calling it a morbid metaphor would be effective. Alliteration, too. --User:Krator (t c) 19:15, 20 June 2007 (UTC)[reply]

It seems odd to me that someone would assume the comparison of some activity to Whac-a-Mole to be unintentionally ludicrous. Rather, it is an ordinary metaphor (or simile) that implies that the activity, as being conducted, is never going to reach its ultimate goal. If the activity in question is a serious one, then the use of this metaphor or simile implies the suggestion that it was ill-conceived. --Anonymous, June 21, 2007, 08:24 (UTC).

(By the way, Bathos is back to being on-point, so I misspoke when I said it was all over the map. Such is the nature of a wiki.) Comparing the deployment of thousands of troops to a province in Iraq, and the fight against civilian-attacking 'insurgents,' to a person at a carnival game is, I would say, absurd. Either the person who first wrote that for the first of the news readers meant to satirize the military leaders, or the person was being bathetic. The very, very serious business of fighting in war is being compared to the utterly trivial business of a midway game. As The Daily Show with Jon Stewart showed on Wednesday night, the metaphor, once proposed, spread to all television news and was foolishly picked up by the military spokesman. No one cried "foul." Given the sorts of writing that we find at 24 hour news, it seems pretty likely that it wasn't conscious absurdity, but rather good, old fashioned, satirizable bathos. Geogre 11:00, 21 June 2007 (UTC)[reply]
Comparing a war against insurgents to Whac-a Mole illustrates the ability of the insurgents to repeatedly move their operations to a different location, where the effort has to be repeated, in contrast to fighting regular troops, who are unable to blend their army into the general population. Getting into such a fight as the one in Iraq has also been compared to fighting Tar baby because of the difficulty of finding an exit strategy, when there is no liklihood of there ever being a big surrender ceremony like those which ended World War 2. Edison 13:59, 21 June 2007 (UTC)[reply]
It communicates, so it's not catechresis, but that doesn't mean that it doesn't violate every bone in decorum's body, which is what Mr. Pope was writing about. "Tarbaby" is much more defensible, because the metaphor came into existence to explain an intractable (literally) situation. However, the comparison to Wack-a-mole strikes me as satire, at best. Utgard Loki 16:56, 21 June 2007 (UTC)[reply]
Of course it's indecorous: it's an accusation against the leaders who put troops into a situation where their lives are at risk and yet they have as much chance of success as a player of that game does of whacking the last mole. There's nothing decorous about a situation like that. Now, you may disagree with that assessment that that is the situation, of course; but if you do agree, the game comparison is a good way of putting it.
Incidentally, the same figure of speech occurs in the movie Traffic... but applied to the "War on Drugs", which is what the movie's about. I suspect it's been around for a while.
--Anonymous, June 23, 2007, 19:34 (UTC).

Young adults in modern day Russia. edit

I am writing a novel set in current day Russia, and have been doing lots of research but would like to have help on a more specific topic, the average lifestyle of a young adult in Russia. My character is just entering university. How different is the life of a young woman compared to say, here in USA?

Be sure to include lots of heavy drinking, and not just at parties. StuRat 20:09, 20 June 2007 (UTC)[reply]
This wins the silliest thing of the week award! --Ghirla-трёп- 11:17, 21 June 2007 (UTC)[reply]
If you think that Russians being heavy drinkers is silly, read this article: [3]. StuRat 15:20, 23 June 2007 (UTC)[reply]
And probably a moderate rebelling against the system and the state, have a read about the intelligensia during the 1917 Russian Revolution, people like Lenin and Trotsky but possibly more like Alexander Kerensky and transpose them to the modern scene. (That is if your characters are intellectual students) It depends on the slant you want your novel to take. The best thing about writing is that it is your universe, and within reason you can dictate the norms. As a writer myself, my best advice is for you to go there! Or meet real Russian students and ask them :) SGGH speak! 20:16, 20 June 2007 (UTC)[reply]
Short of going there, you might be able to find Russian students in various online forums where you could interview them about their lives online or by email. Marco polo 21:18, 20 June 2007 (UTC)[reply]
http://www.exile.ru is a website (and magazine) run by American expats in Moscow. Their articles cover a lot of ground, so you might have to browse through the archives quite a bit to find exactly what you're looking for, but I find them a very useful source on life in Russia. Random Nonsense 21:43, 20 June 2007 (UTC)[reply]
This is just curiosity on my part: how successful do you think a piece of writing will be when the author knows nothing about whereof he/she speaks. Unless this is a class exercise, it seems like an odd way to spend time. Bielle 23:58, 20 June 2007 (UTC)[reply]
Criticising a project in its research phase because it's insufficiently researched seems a bit premature. :) Random Nonsense 00:18, 21 June 2007 (UTC)[reply]

I can only speak from limited personal experience, but the women I have met in Moscow, mostly of my own age, have a life-style not that much different from that in London and New York. Clio the Muse 00:37, 21 June 2007 (UTC)[reply]


It's a pity you aren't registered/ logged in, because my brother and his wife are going there soon, and I am planning to irritate the hell out of them for cultural stories when they get back, so I could have put some stuff on your talk page, but alas. I have only one anecdote that I love sharing, which may or may not be helpful (it is of a general nature only). A friend went there on a school trip (in about the early 90s), odd as it sounds, given the distance from Australia. They got lost somewhere along the line, and had to make their own way to Moscow. Then they were in some place, ordering lunch, and a complete stranger came up to them and said "Oh, so you made it to Moscow!" You can bet they were creeped out. It doesn't mean a heck of a lot (and it was a decade ago), but the old ways are presumably there under the covers (I doubt they are truly pervasive). The other thing he said was that they all had the same one type of huge, old vacuum cleaner, that sounded from his description like it had emphysema, and heaps of them wore the same type of trenchcoat (or something similar). I can't guarantee the exactness of this, of course, and I expect it's at least a little different now. Clio has obviously been there, so if she (or anyone) could confirm or reject the "vacuum-cleaner and trenchcoat hypothesis" I would be very interested. If my ancedotes are bulldust, I will need to update them. The Mad Echidna 18:12, 21 June 2007 (UTC)[reply]
I cannot comment on the sound of Russian vacuum cleaners, Echidna, because I am not conscious of ever having heard one! However, I will say that Moscow (my experience of Russia is limited to that city) is an astonishing place, as vibrant, exciting and as energetic as any other city in the developed world. I found the people (especially the men!) uniformly friendly, and to be quite frank there are far more beggers and drunks on the streets of London than on the streets of Moscow. The old Soviet department store GUM, is full of great boutiques, selling a huge range of designer labels. My father served for a time in the British embassy in Moscow back in the 1980s, and he says that the change since the fall of the old Soviet Union is one of the most remarkable he has ever witnessed. So, please everyone-loose those preconceptions! Clio the Muse 00:27, 22 June 2007 (UTC)[reply]

British Army mutiny edit

Your article on the allied invasion of italy in 1943 mentions a mutiny by some British soldiers. What was this?

The mutiny was on September 16 by men of the British 10th Corps who had been detached from their unit due to being wounded, and refused to be assigned to new units. This page goes into some detail about it in the paragraph just above the set of maps. SGGH speak! 20:23, 20 June 2007 (UTC)[reply]
It was, specifically, men from the 51st Highland Division and the 50th Northumbrians, including some veterans of the war in North Africa. About 1500 of them had sailed from Tripoli, on the understanding that they were to join the rest of their units, based in Sicily. Instead, once aboard ship, they were told that they were being taken to Salerno, to join the 46th Division, fighting alongside General Mark Clark's Fifth Army. Many of the soldiers felt they had been deliberately misled. Matters were made worse by the total lack of organisation when they reached Salerno, leaving them angry and frustrated. Most of the soldiers, a thousand or so fresh recruits, were taken off to join new units, leaving 500 veterans, 300 of whom were moved to a nearby field. They were still there by 20 September, refusing postings to unfamiliar units. They were addressed by General Richard McCreery, who admitted that a mistake had been made, and promised that they would rejoin their old units once Salerno was secure. The men were also warned of the consequences of mutiny in wartime. Of the three hundred in the field, 108 decided to follow orders, leaving a hard-core of 192. They were all charged with mutiny under the Army Act, the largest number of men accused at any one time in all of British military history. The accused were shipped to Algeria, where the courts-martial opened towards the end of October. All were found guilty, and three sergeants were sentenced to death. The sentences were subsequently suspended, though the men faced constant harassement for the rest of their military careers. The whole episode is well-covered in Mutiny at Salerno: An Injustice Exposed by Saul David. Clio the Muse 01:14, 21 June 2007 (UTC)[reply]
I started the article Salerno Mutiny to keep this information for prospective readers. --Ghirla-трёп- 23:29, 23 June 2007 (UTC)[reply]
Clio, Clio, Clio, for someone as erudite as yourself, surely you should have written "courts-martial".  :) Corvus cornix 23:43, 22 June 2007 (UTC)[reply]
So I should! I happily accept your correction, Corvus cornix. Clio the Muse 02:44, 23 June 2007 (UTC)[reply]
:) Corvus cornix 02:53, 23 June 2007 (UTC)[reply]
Clio the Muse 03:01, 23 June 2007 (UTC)[reply]

curious in ontario edit

I received a painting and i tried to find out about the artist it's a beautiful painting . The artist is E.Loaysa and the gorgeous painting is of 3 women at a piano with 1 sitting on the piano stool . They are dressesd in long gowns and with the white wigs . I'm not sure what century they were in but again it's breathtaking .There is people on the right hand watching the entertainment . i'm very curious about this artist and if there is more of his or her painting out there ... warmerst regards curious

Having checked Google, plus ArtPrice and the auction-house "sold" records of Sotheby's, Christies, Joyner-Waddington and Heffel, I can do nothing to assuage your curiosity. None of these art venues has an artist with "Loaysa" as the whole or part of his/her professional name. The name appears to have a Spanish root. Perhaps someone can check on Spanish Google with more success. Bielle 02:03, 21 June 2007 (UTC)[reply]
Artnet has records of one painting by one "Loaysa" (may or may not be the same person) being auctioned, in 1994. You may get a little more information (such as where it was sold and for how much) if you pay the artnet membership fee. --mglg(talk) 02:23, 21 June 2007 (UTC)[reply]

I have a painting of E Loaysa too, of a very beautiful and sexy girl. I bought in Barrie of Ontario, but don't know who is real artist.

I bought a painting by E. Loaysa in Cambridge, Ontario of a beautiful girl with sheep sitting on what looks like an Austria hilltop with mountains in the background. It looks quite old and has a number on the back that looks like it may have been catalogues in a gallery.

"Neutrality" of Zealand in 1942 edit

My copy of Niall Ferguson's book The War of the World contains a map illustrating the maximum extent of the Nazi Empire in autumn 1942. This uses different hatchings to show the different elements of that empire, including one for occupied territories and another for cooperating powers (Vichy France, Romania, etc.). Curiously this colours Jutland and Funen as occupied, but colours Zealand and the islands to its south as "Neutral", along with Sweden, Spain, and the Republic of Ireland. While, from reading Occupation of Denmark, one might argue Denmark could be coloured much as Vichy France, there doesn't seem to be any mention of any special status that Zealand had and that the rest of Denmark didn't. So is this an error on the part of the map-colourer? -- Finlay McWalter | Talk 22:40, 20 June 2007 (UTC)[reply]

I would say, Finlay, that this is a simple error by the person who drew up the map. All of Denmark, including Zealand, should be in one colour. By the way, are you enjoying Ferguson's book? It's quite an interesting thesis. Clio the Muse 00:30, 21 June 2007 (UTC)[reply]
I agree that it is an error. This is a common cartographical error. In making maps, tints need to be applied individually to each island. A cartographer will often apply a given tint to the mainland area of a given country and neglect to apply it to each of the islands belonging to that country. Furthermore, cartographers may not know the status of smaller islands on a map. Cartographers often neglect to apply a tint for Denmark to Bornholm, for example. Marco polo 00:47, 21 June 2007 (UTC)[reply]
The worst example I ever saw of this was a map that coloured European Turkey the same as Bulgaria. I'm sure it must have pleased Bulgarian revisionists-dreaming of the days of San Stefano-just as much as it must have angered the Turks! Wars are caused by less. Clio the Muse 01:24, 21 June 2007 (UTC)[reply]