I’ve had a life where I could not understand what was going on but no question something malicious was happening and whatever I did seemed rigged against me. Amidst this backdrop in my mid twenties, I grabbed on to this idea about Napoleon - how he was somehow like me. Then I quickly found out we were all being lied to about him and that set me on this path.
When I was studying him in Europe, I went to the house of his stepdaughter Hortense and there were pictures all over of him which suggested to me that she had been obsessed with him like I was and since my house was full of pictures of Napoleon, perhaps it indicated Hortense had been me.
Of course not, right?
Back then I was quite fond but souring on a musician who seemed to suggest he had been Napoleon.
Now I’ve been shown this musician really was Napoleon and I was Hortense.
In my collection of books, I have one by an English man who visited Hortense in her exile - that time the Rs removed her from society.
This visitor to Hortense in the 1800s found it perplexing that Hortense had zero images of Napoleon in her house.
Yesterday, I was posting Hortense’s memoirs and I heard her say that Napoleon was dignified in his exile but that he did not inspire such warm emotions.
One day in my very telepathic head, E asked me to look at this song and he said, “No, it’s not about Mary.”
