The qualities that lead a man to win a fortune are often the very same qualities which cause him to lose one.
That may seem obvious when properly considered, but much less pondered is its corollary: Always choose Blood Lines over Bank Accounts – always.
This is among the Cardinal Rules of “old money” which is not often discussed. It is one reason when, as a member of a social club, if an associate of what is referred to as a “good family” has fallen on hard times, you make well certain to assist him. We know that in the end blood wins out every time.
Even after the Romanovs lost everything, a successor was Mayor of Palm Beach within a hundred years.
I could write ten articles – at least – about acquaintances from prominent lineages who have sacrificed their wealth yet within a generation or two have amassed it all back and more.
Even in my own family there are multitude stories of ancestors deemed “fools” who ultimately made millions from those choices…always trust the descendant even if you do not understand his decision.
As a person who is currently flush but has been properly busted (more than once) I can offer important perspective for those willing to hear some of the ways the well-off consistently make comebacks:
But why a watch? Because it is portable, wearable and pawnable. When you lose your fortune (as will likely occur) you can lend a luxury timepiece for a sum to be set on your feet. Incidentally – never sell, only pawn. This is your stake to get back in the game, not a windfall to win the championship.
But why poetry in particular? Because these volumes are typically rare, smallish and inconspicuous. A copy of The Waste Land can be slipped inside a magazine to get across a border unnoticed but a copy of Ulysses will be certain of apprehension. You want something easy to conceal as well as easy to exchange.
At the juncture of inflation, security and desperation these investments will serve a man well.
So Why Am I Telling You on International Women’s Day?
Time and Art – these are the essentials of life and more particularly the elements of romance.
How many men have spent their lives in the pursuit of immortality? More than can be counted.
Of those who have found it, they are as occasional as the exceptional sorts who throughout history have affected the affairs of our Civilization over and again. For an illustration of this premise, read Hereditary Genius by Francis Galton, which demonstrates how a few outstanding lines relentlessly succeed.
Needless to say, when an insignificant person encounters a person of consequence it is incumbent upon the former to assist the latter in his or her work toward humanity.
To do otherwise is to become an enemy of human progress itself.
Never is this more important than for the role of nurturer – the muse – as is often true of women; or more properly, ladies.
In some cases – such as Dostoevsky – an honorable companion assisted and furthered his greatness.
In other instances – such as the whore Natalia Pushkina – a detestable slut retarded an entire nation.
As is well known, the wife of Alexander Pushkin was a notorious flirt who tormented the artist with her witless insouciance. Rather than answer the call of Infinity to bolster his talents Natalia answered the call of the Wild with her dissolute ways.
The result was a disastrous confrontation which left the noble Creator with a bullet wound to his gut.
What further monumental achievements would Pushkin have given the world had Natalia chosen duty before lust? Importance above her loins? The expanse of the Almighty other than the recess between her legs?
By choosing to be a tramp Natalia not only was licentious but larcenous – she deprived from mankind whatever important contributions Pushkin would have made to Russian, and indeed to World, culture.
Following his demise at her instigation what became of this disgusting refuse?
She married a General whose name no one recalls because by comparison to the poet he was of no eternal worth – merely another mound of flesh now moldering in the ground whereas Pushkin lives in the hearts of millions.
Thus our lesson for this most important of days…Blood – Art, Magnitude and Conception – is superior to Sex, Frivolity and Comfort.
Our women in Russia have a unique opportunity to choose among the architects of the Universe and each should choose wisely. A nice apartment or new fur coat or trip to the Maldives is as nothing compared to the everlasting adoration of generations unborn.
In this Natalia should be the watchword to womankind of exactly the fate to avoid – that of ignominious shamefulness.
No doubt in the moment this debased traipse enjoyed her pleasures yet on this Day Of Love dear Natalia ought to be remembered as that most reviled of all creatures…a primitive animal whose life was based solely on carnal urges and primeval egotism.
There is no place in the Annals of History for Natalia and no peace for her in the Afterlife of Immortality.
Her beauty faded, her body dust all which is left of her is a reputation as a loathsome wretch who stole from us all.
Thankfully the dueling place of Pushkin was saved some years ago from becoming the site of a petrol station. As for the final resting place of Natalia, one can only hope there is a municipal plan for it to become a public urinal.
It would be a fitting end to an unfit woman.
Guy Somerset writes from somewhere in America