Greetings from Montparnasse!
As my first contribution to this fine group, I have a concern to address. Namely, that of representation. Have any of you found representations of yourself since your death that don't quite hit the mark?
Or the tree the mark is tied to?
Or even the forest the tree is in?
There is a picture under the curtain below of a sculpture bearing my name that is... I'm not sure I can limit myself to the word hidious, but for your sake I'll try to keep the rage in check. Is this honestly how France betrays repays martyrdom? I don't remember any dead-body statues of Joan of Arc in my day - and in my many travels uniting the Resistance collecting art pieces for my gallery, I'm sure I'd have seen one if it existed.
(My typist just muttered 'You think you're mad now, wait 'til you see the movies.' That can't be a good sign.)
How do the rest of you deal with representations that are unartistic to the point of irony less-than-accurate? Is the answer haunting? Drinking? A combination thereof?
P.S.: Is Macbeth here? I suddenly feel like buying him a drink.