Countess Josephine

An Island Francophile with British roots rolled together with solid Americana, garnished with Asian/African heritage and a whisper of the Mediterranean, I love to practice random acts of kindness and senseless acts of beauty. Throwing some Sunshine your way - Enjoy!

Tuesday, September 2, 2008

In My Past Life I was...Emilie du Chatelet

Emilie - Part Deux: A Passionate Mind

My husband a military man, spoke of strategy and patriotism as if no other subject existed. He bored me to tears. Of course, I knew right away that we had nothing in common, but arranged marriages were the norm and we accepted our fate.

But, mon Dieu, when I think of how terrible life could have been without having an understanding partner, I just shake my head. I have seen many relationships go very bad and Florent and I agreed to live amicable. Thus I indulged whenever and where ever I saw fit. I sat among men albeit a small group, holding court and relished in the fact that not one of them could prove me unworthy to speak at their levels. It was exciting. Equally exciting was getting what I want and dressing like a man to be among them was no different. The passionate discussions or clever banter if you will was a high unlike anything I could get from drinking except maybe intellectual sex. It was my weakness, a serious vice that sometimes controlled me. I loved a great mind. 

Duc de Richelieu (Richi as I affectionately called him) was one of them. He taught me many things and introduced me to a few great minds. Our relationship lasted a year plus 6 months when I was introduced to Francois Marie Voltaire in the Spring of 1733. I knew I had met my match and like Richi, I loved him with my mind and in my bed. They were longtime friends but Richi knew Francois and I were meant to come together. I asked him to live with me in Cirey and there we remained for 15 years writing, musing and what not.

I remember the day Francois and I got the telescope.  Studying the stars regularly was something my husband would never have understood nor indulged. But, I enjoyed the way his words whispered across my shoulders as I peered through this powerful tool that brought heavenly bodies closer to earth.

Making love was poetry literally, with every line of poetry Francois recited, the strings loosened from my corset. He spoke of such profound things that each word caressed my body tingling my senses and my mind. I just couldn't get enough. Him dimpled chin and pointed nose were prominent and as they grazed my skin, I shuddered in delight. He didn't leave me even after I found a new poet to love. He just understood my passion of the mind.

Even though I was too naive to realize that none of the ladies wanted me at court because I caused a stir every time, I enjoyed my life immensely without regret. Maybe I didn't care. But I know one thing as I laid on my death bed. I love wholly. I love my parents, my children, my Francois and myself. I took a stand for what I knew was my birth right as a great mind.

votre amour toujours, 

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