Valuation Day Jewellery and Antiques 27 <strong>November</strong> <strong>2018</strong> | 10am to 3pm VENUE The Courtlands Hotel 19-27 The Drive Hove, BN3 3JE ENQUIRIES 01273 220000 hove@bonhams.com bonhams.com/hove AN EMERALD DIAMOND AND ENAMEL COLLAR BY MARINA B Sold for £42,500* * Prices shown include buyer’s premium. Details can be found at bonhams.com
COLUMN David Jarman When the east wind blows... Between 1726 and 1728 Voltaire was in England. In his Letters Concerning the English Nation, first published in 1733, he recalls meeting a group of merchants, all of them exhibiting the lowest of low spirits. Voltaire took the liberty of asking one of them the reason for the general gloom: ‘The fellow answered, with a scowl, that the east wind was blowing’. Then, one of their friends arrived and told them with an air of indifference: “Molly cut her throat this morning. Her lover found her dead in her room, with a bloody razor at her side”. Voltaire observed: ‘These gentlemen – they were all Molly’s friends – heard the news without raising an eyebrow.’ Why had this young lady, apparently pretty, very rich, happy and about to be married to the very man who had found her dead, ended her life so cruelly? The only answer vouchsafed to Voltaire was: “The east wind was blowing.” When he confided his bemusement to a famous doctor at the court, Voltaire was told that he was wrong to be surprised. Far worse things happened; ‘in the months of <strong>November</strong> and March; then, folks hanged themselves in dozens; practically everyone was seriously ill at those times, and a black melancholy spread over the entire nation; that’s when, he said, the east wind blows most consistently.’ So, a historical variant, perhaps, on the Seasonal Affective Disorder that Anita Hall writes about, elsewhere in this, <strong>November</strong>, issue of <strong>Viva</strong>. In Bleak House, John Jarndyce is depicted as a great believer in the malevolent properties of the east wind. But with him, believing the wind to be in the east is a mere fiction that he used; ‘to account for any disappointment he could not conceal, rather than he would blame the real cause of it, or disparage or depreciate anyone’. A distinction is made between John Jarndyce and: ‘those petulant people who make the weather and the winds the stalking-horses of their splenetic and gloomy humours’. His great-uncle, Tom Jarndyce, had indeed blown his brains out at a coffee-house in Chancery Lane, but that was in despair, having become enmeshed in the toils of ‘The Law’s delay’. Nothing to do with the perceived direction of the wind. John Jarndyce, by contrast, is one of the least suicidal characters in Bleak House, though having a Goody Two-shoes like Esther Summerson trailing round the house, jangling her housekeeping keys, might drive anyone to end it all. What Voltaire was actually witnessing was an inbred fatalism; admittedly heartless, but understandable, perhaps even commendable in its freedom from emotional incontinence. Perhaps it was characteristic of the English at the time. Here’s another example. In his Memoirs, Casanova recalls a conversation he overheard. Someone announces: “Tommy has committed suicide and he did quite right.” To which someone else replies: “On the contrary, he did a very foolish thing, for I am one of his creditors and know that he need not have made away with himself for six months.” Illustration by Charlotte Gann 29