THE MARGINS: Oddly-Shaped Ideas
"I am not in the least superstitious."
This episode of The Margins “Jilted Blue Silk Dress” is adapted from an actual letter published in the 1889 issue of the Journal of the Society for Psychical Research (pps. 13-15). SPR was founded in 1882 with a mission to “understand events and abilities commonly described as psychic or paranormal,” as described in its Wiki. It’s also the first science society to investigate paranormal and human “experiences that challenge contemporary scientific models.” Appetites & Indiscretions The Margins podcast has curated a vast assortment of these letters from people writing about ghosts, telepathy, psychic encounters and premonitions, such as this dramatized letter from J.H.S.
Somewhat noteworthy, J.H.S., in rationalizing, trying to explain what happened to him, mentions “animal magnetism” as a possible cause. It was a popular theory at the time. In fact, in the mid-1800s, “animal magnetism,” so named by Franz Mesmer who promoted the idea that humans, plants and other animals were all imbued with an invisible force that could be directed and used to heal, had hundreds of proponents in Europe and America, a cottage industry of published journal articles, studies and books, including the 1866 “Animal Magnetism and Magnetic Somnambulism: with Observations and Illustrative Instances of Analogous Phenomena Occurring Spontaneously,” by Edwin Lee, M.D. (I’m tickled that it also has an appendix of “Corroborative and Correlative Observations.”) The practice of mesmerism and doctors with a specialty in magnetism held a foothold in medicine for over 75 years, well into the 1920s. And then – poof! – it vanished like Keyser Söze. Pop culture trivia note: Alan Rickman played Franz Mesmer in the 1994 film “Mesmer.” — C.B.
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About the Show
show notes
Production CREDITS:
Writer-Producer: Francesca Robin
Audio Engineering: Tim Baron of TimBaronVideo
Production Company: Liquescence Media
MUSIC:
Soundscape: “Jilted Blue Silk Dress” – Hypathia
End Credits Music: Lenski’s aria “Kuda, kuda,” from Eugene Onegin, op 24, Act II, by Pyotr Tchaikovsky, (1879). Lenski: Piotr Beczala. Metropolitan Opera Final Dress Rehearsal, September 19, 2013.
HIGHLIGHTS:
00:45 “I am not in the least superstitious.”
02:35 “No sooner had I grasped the circumstances…the vision melted.”
05:17 “He had encounted something different than a dream.”
1. Journal of the Society for Psychical Research (1889-90): 13-15.
2. Image in header: Renoir, Auguste. “Portrait of Madame Claude Monet,” 1872.
Transcription
The Margins: Ep.02 “Jilted Lover and Blue Silk Dress”
Adapted from the Journal of the Society for Psychical Research (1889-90): 13-15.
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Narration: Part 1
April 4th, 1888.
Your letter to the Telegraph of March 27th, brought to my memory an incident that occurred to me some years since–in fact, in 1866. I might preface my statement by saying that I am not in the least superstitious.
For some years previous to 1866 I had been residing in B– as agent for a large firm in London. Soon after my arrival in B–, I took apartments in the suburbs, in a house kept by two sisters, one a maiden lady, the other a widow with two daughters. To make a long story short, I fell in love with the youngest daughter, proposed and was accepted, although her mother always was very much opposed to it. Time passed on and I heard of a much better appointment. I threw up the one I had and came to London to secure the other, without telling anyone in B—anything about it. I had been in London about five weeks, when, one Sunday evening, feeling irritable and dull, I retired to rest, much earlier than usual. I had been in bed some time trying to court sleep, when suddenly at one end of the room there appeared two figures, and as they developed one was my fiance, the other the man whom I had always looked on as my greatest friend and “chum” in B–. There was the room—my room–the fireplace, and every particular true to the original, and the attitude of the two–he holding her hand, and her troubled look left no doubt in my mind that he was proposing to her. No sooner had I grasped the circumstances of the case than the vision melted and was gone; and now comes what I consider the remarkable part. On the following Tuesday I had a letter from the young lady’s brother, informing me that her mother had prevailed on her to break off her engagement with me, and one from the young lady herself returning all my presents, and stating that her mother had forbidden her to correspond with me further; and in less than a month I heard from a mutual friend in B- – that the young lady was engaged to the man I had seen in the vision.
Being rather a sore point at the time, I never mentioned the vision to any of my friends or relatives at the time, feeling convinced that they would say it was a dream. But I know that I was as wide awake at the time as I am now; and while it lasted I had the sensation of being entranced, utterly unable to move, but no fright or unpleasant feeling. I can only compare it to a dissolving view, such as you see sometimes produced by a magic lantern. I long imagined that I had a rival in the field, but never suspected my particular “chum” for a moment.
After it had passed away (the vision), I tried to consider what it could be, and came to the conclusion that it was animal magnetism, a subject that had created some stir in the papers and magazines some time previously. I give you the account for what it is worth. It has always been a riddle to me for which I have never been able to find the solution.
(Signed) J. H. S.
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Narration: Part 2
After a personal interview with Mr. S., Mr. G. A. Smith writes:
April 19th, 1888.
I saw Mr. S. today. Whatever his impression may have been–waking or sleeping–there is no doubt that it was more vivid than any other subjective sensation he has ever had. He says he never dreams that he knows of—at least he forgets them immediately upon waking; but he recovered himself from this experience with a distinct feeling that he had encountered something different from a dream: he brought away a more vivid recollection of the scene, of the attitude, dress and expressions of the persona seen than he has ever done from any dream, and he was struck at the time with the curious condition of feeling present in the B–room as a spectator, and yet having a sort of side knowledge that he was in his own bed. And when the thing was over he had no recognizable sensation of having just woke; he could realize no break of consciousness whatever. He hadn’t the faintest ground for suspicion that his friend would supplant him, and felt perfectly assured of the young lady’s devotion to himself. He says he never remembers meeting with any similar cases, and he seems to have no tendency towards the marvelous. Quite the contrary. But he has always held the view that the couple were really engaged as he saw them in the vision on that Sunday evening, and that their minds, both stirred with the idea of the injustice being done to him at the moment, might somehow have acted upon him so as to call up the vision to his view. Moreover the hour and evening(10 o’clock Sunday) would be just the occasion most likely for such an interview in B–; the room, too, was the most probable one for it to have really occurred in. A point not mentioned in his letter is that he noticed exactly how the lady was attired in the vision, and he observed particularly that she wore a blue silk dress that was unfamiliar to him. A few weeks later, on a brief stay in B –, finally settling his affairs in that town, he passed the lady in the street, when she was wearing a blue silk dress.
(Signed) G. A. Smith
[End]
Translation into English by Stephen Ettinger (added 2000-05-22)
English translation of Lensky's second-act aria from Eugene Onegin Where have you gone, o golden days of my spring? What does the day coming has in store for me? It escapes my eyes, it is hidden! Shall I fall to the deadly arrow, or will it pass by? All for better, there is a pre-determined time For life and for sleep Blessed is a day of simple tasks And blessed is the day of troubles. Will the day beam shine in the morning And the bright day shall reign And I, well, will I, perhaps, will descent Into mysterious darkness of my fatal tomb? And the memory of a strange poet will fall into Abyss The world shall forget me, but you, you, Olga! Tell me, will you, the maiden of beauty, come to shed a tear Over the early urn And think "he loved me, he devoted to me The gloomy dawn of a troubled life!" Ah Olga, I did love you, To you alone I devoted The gloomy dawn of my troubled life Yes Olga, I did love you! My wonderful friend, my dear friend, Come, for I am your husband, etc. Where have you gone, o golden days of my spring?