Context and the total picture: Part I

Sometimes a painful experience doesn’t feel quite so bad when we learn that other people, some very well known, have had a similar experience.

One example comes from the life of the artist Pauline Baynes, best known for her illustrations of the Narnia books.

Her family broke up when she was five years old. She returned to the UK from India with her mother. She was sent to a convent school where she was given a hard time by strict, unsympathetic nuns because of her fantastical imagination, her unusual handmade clothes and her ability to speak Hindi.

She later learned that Rudyard Kipling, whose work she greatly admired, had as a boy been sent back from India to a place where he was treated badly. Learning that she was not alone, that she was in very good company, made her feel a little better.

Then there was Napoleon, reduced to living on crumbs of hope in exile. Anyone who knows what subsisting on remote possibilities is like might well feel a little better or even gratified when they learn that they have something in common with the great emperor. 

However, putting painful experiences into the context of other people’s lives in this way can be a two-edged sword. 

Napoleon Bonaparte and the crumbs of hope

Napoleon Bonaparte must be one of the most written-about people on the planet. However, although he got a brief mention in an article about Benjamin Disraeli, who was a great admirer of his, I would not have expected that he would ever be the subject of an article on here.

I was reading about Napoleon recently, and I unexpectedly came across some material of interest. 

I was surprised to learn that after his final defeat, Napoleon had wanted to come and live in the UK. In exile, he even learned some ‘Englich’ in preparation for the life that he still hoped to have. 

He pinned his hopes on various members of the royal family in turn, only to be disappointed. He may even have lost the will to live when he realised that he would never return to Europe.

I never thought that I would have anything at all in common with Napoleon, but there are some familiar elements in a few of his letters. I know what it is like to live for some years on crumbs of hope, clutching at straws and desperately casting around for possibilities in the form of anything or anyone that might help to provide a way out of an unacceptable situation. 

Wishful thinking predominates, and ‘what if’ and ‘if only’ become major preoccupations. 

Living in such suspense is very painful; it is even worse when the last crumb of hope disappears.

Hope, the loss of hope and the absence of hope are major unseen influences in some people’s lives.

Benjamin Disraeli and the New World Order

This article contains more of the material I found while looking for answers to some of the outstanding questions I had about Benjamin Disraeli’s personality, beliefs, interests and activities.

There are allegations that Disraeli was involved with the New World Order. Did sinister forces conspire to put him into a very high and influential position? Was he a pawn and a puppet or a middleman? 

Was he even a member of the sinister organisations himself, working to further a secret agenda?

Could it just be immense amounts of persistence, ambition and determination that got him to the top of the world of politics – with the help of some patrons – or were unseen influences at work in his life? I suspect that they were.

Was it something he said?

It is Disraeli’s own words that have given some conspiracy theorists the idea that he had some connection with the Illuminati, the New World Order and similar secret organisations.

Here is a much-repeated line from his 1844 political novel Coningsby:

“So you see, my dear Coningsby, that the world is governed by very different personages from what is imagined by those who are not behind the scenes."

Another quotation from Coningsby:

"Governments do not govern, but merely control the machinery of government, being themselves controlled by the hidden hand..."

The hidden hand is often mentioned in connection with Freemasons; it is seen in portraits of great statesmen and leaders such as Napoleon.

Benjamin Disraeli: three Napoleons and The Revolutionary Epic

I found the material for this article while looking for answers to some questions I had about Benjamin Disraeli. I wanted to know whether, despite the allegations of his enemies and detractors, he had any sincere beliefs. Did he have strong convictions about anything, or were his views changeable and just adopted from expediency?

I found that he did have some genuine and firmly-held beliefs.

The Revolutionary Epic
One thing that Disraeli definitely believed in was his own genius. 

Another belief was that men are best influenced and governed by appeals to their imagination and by someone charismatic whom they could adore and obey. Someone they could hero-worship was what the people wanted. Romance was superior to reason when it came to leadership. He was right in that many people certainly do want their gods to be in human form.

These two beliefs came together in one of his attempts to make a name for himself as a creative writer.

In 1834, when he was 29 years old, he published his poem The Revolutionary Epic on this theme. It dealt with the French Revolution and the career of Napoleon Bonaparte. He considered it to be his masterpiece, the best thing he had ever done. It was going to show the world what a great genius he was, bring him fame and fortune and immortalise his name. 

Or so Disraeli thought.