philosopher’s gold

“Alchemy is the science the object of which is the production of the philosopher’s stone, or the philosopher’s gold. . . .

There are seven stages, or processes, in the production of gold: calcination, putrefaction, solution, distillation, sublimation, conjunction and finally fixation. They produce, during the processes, and in their correct progression, the various colours which are proof that the experiment is proceeding satisfactorily. There are three main colours. First the black—the indication of dissolution and putrefaction—and when it appears it is a sign that the experiment is going well, that the calcination has had its proper effect of breaking down the various substances. Next comes the white, the colour of purification; and the third is the red, the colour of complete success. There are intermediary colours as well, passing through all the shades of the rainbow. Grey is the passage from black to white, yellow from wihte to red. Sometimes the gold is not produced even when the red appears, then . . . it moves on to green, remains there for a time and turns blue. Care must be taken at this point that it does not return to black, for then the process would have to be begun all over again. If success comes then the gold should appear after the blue, grains of philosopher’s gold. Sometimes the gold is in grains, but sometimes in liquid form, aurum potabile it is called, the elixir of long life. The whole process is sometimes described as the four ages, or the four seasons.”

—Enid Starkie, Arthur Rimbaud, 1961.

Vowels

A Black, E white, I red, U green, O blue : vowels,
I shall tell, one day, of your mysterious origins:
A, black velvety jacket of brilliant flies
Which buzz around cruel smells,

Gulfs of shadow; E, whiteness of vapours and of tents,
Lances of proud glaciers, white kings, shivers of cow-parsley;
I, purples, spat blood, smile of beautiful lips
In anger or in the raptures of penitence;

U, waves, divine shudderings of viridian seas,
The peace of pastures dotted with animals, the peace of the furrows
Which alchemy prints on broad studious foreheads;

O, sublime Trumpet full of strange piercing sounds,
Silences crossed by Worlds and by Angels:
O the Omega, the violet ray of Her Eyes!

—Arthur Rimabuad, Vowels (Voyelles), 1871, translated by Oliver Bernard, 1962.

a practiser of alchemy

“It will be seen that in the poem [Voyelles], Rimbaud suggests that the poet is a practiser of alchemy, and “A”, the colour of black, evokes the images of dissolution and putrefaction. In alchemy one of the symbols for the white colour is the letter “E”, and also the word “vapeur”; and the images which the poet links to the vowel “I” are amongst those . . . to designate the alchemical experiment which has reached the stage of the red colour. Green is the colour of Venus, and she was born of the sea. . . . Finally, last of all, comes the blue, the suspense before the gold appears, the sound of the trumpet announcing victory. In alchemy the final achievement of the gold is often taken as a symbol of attaining the vision of God.”

—Enid Starkie, Arthur Rimbaud, 1961.

endless beaches

“Sometimes I see in the sky endless beaches covered with white joyous nations. A huge golden vessel, above me, waves its multicolored flags in the morning wind. I have created all celebrations, all triumphs, all dramas. I have tried to invent new flowers, new stars, new flesh, new tongues.”

—Arthur Rimbaud; Pierre Petitfils, Rimbaud, translated by Alan Sheridan, 1987.

blue eyes, of a double blue

“He [Arthur Rimbaud] had brown hair, and blue eyes, of a double blue, the areas of which, deeper or lighter, expanded or merged together at moments of reverie, or intense thought: when he was thinking, when he was staring into the unknown, he carried his mental gaze very far, his eyelids moved closer, like a cat’s, the long silky lashes fluttered slightly, while his head remained still.”

—Ernest Delahay; Pierre Petitfils, Rimbaud, translated by Alan Sheridan, 1987.

Secrets of the Magic 8 Ball revealed

tulip mania

“Individual tulip bulbs fetched higher and higher prices in the seventeenth century, setting off the frenzy known as tulip mania. . . .

The speculation was fed by a random, and poorly understood, element to the flower’s coloration. . . . [S]ome tulips had a tendency to “break”—to emerge with wild, flaming white or yellow streaks across the petals. The broken flowers were highly sought after, but no one knew what caused the flamboyant patterns. . . .

At the time, no once could have guessed that the true cause was a virus. In fact, it was not until the early twentieth century that the tulip breaking virus, also called tulip mosaic virus, was finally identified. The virus is spread by aphids and works by inhibiting the amount of anthocyanin . . . that is stored in the vacuoles of each cell. When that pigment isn’t present, the ordinary white or yellow surface of the petal shows through, creating streaks of white or yellow against a jewel-colored background.”

—Amy Stewart, Flower Confidential, 2007.

the height of French fashion

“It was the height of French fashion around 1610 for a woman to wear a tulip the way she might wear a jewel.”

—Amy Stewart, Flower Confidential, 2007.

The Quest For A Blue Rose

“The quest for a blue rose is nothing new. The mere fact that it doesn’t exist, that it can’t exist in nature, seems to inspire all kinds of ludicrous attempts to force it into being. Roses are utterly lacking in delphinidin, the pigment that produces blue petal colors. No amount of crossbreeding can change that.”

—Amy Stewart, Flower Confidential, 2007.

Blue Light Boogie

“They did the boogie real slow
With the blue lights way down low”

—Jessie Mae Robinson, Blue Light Boogie, 1950.