Crazy Rich Asians and the Regency



Over the weekend I saw a delightful movie titled Crazy Rich Asians. It’s based on a best-selling book of the same name, by Kevin Kwan.

The story is set in Singapore, and it highlights the culture clash that results when the son of one of the wealthiest Chinese families on the island brings his Chinese-American girlfriend, an independent New Yorker, home to meet his family. 

Naturally, the family member the girlfriend most wants to impress is her boyfriend’s protective, traditionally-minded mother, and the chances of that happening go from low to almost nil.

It’s a fun movie, with terrific acting from the leads, especially the mother, played by Michelle Yeoh. But I think the main star of the show is the island republic that lies just off the tip of the Malay Peninsula in Southeast Asia - Singapore.

And, wouldn’t you know it, Singapore has some significant ties to Regency England.

That’s because the man credited with founding Singapore in 1819, mainly for use as a trading post for the British East India Company, was Sir Thomas Stamford Raffles, a British statesman whose career spanned the Regency era.
Raffles in 1817

Raffles was an able administrator whose influence was felt all over Southeast Asia in the early 19th century. He helped the British Empire expand its holdings in that part of the world, competing against Dutch and French colonial interests.

Specifically, Raffles took part in the British invasion of Java in 1811, and when that war ended he was appointed Lieutenant–Governor of British Java. He also held the post of Governor-General of the Dutch East Indies from 1813 to 1816, and later Governor-General of Bencoolen (a former British colony in present-day Sumatra) from 1818 to 1824.

Still, despite all his work in Indonesia, Raffles was no stranger to the Prince Regent's court in London. He sailed back to England in 1816, stopping along the way at St. Helena to visit Napoleon in exile. 

The following year Raffles was knighted by Prinny. During this time Raffles also developed a close friendship with the Prince’s daughter, Charlotte. In fact, he and his wife named their first child, a girl born in 1818 after they’d left England, Charlotte in honor of the Princess.

Following Raffles' administration, Singapore remained in British hands until the mid-20th century, although it was occupied by the Japanese during World War II. Singapore gained its independence from the UK in 1963, when it joined with other former British colonies to become Malaysia. Two years later, in 1965, it split from Malaysia and became its own sovereign nation.

In Crazy Rich Asians, Singapore’s lush landscape and architectural beauties take center stage. In particular, the Marina Bay Sands, a resort built in 2010, is featured extensively. And rightly so – this place boasts movie theaters, casinos, restaurants, floating pavilions, art and science exhibits, plus the world’s largest atrium casino.

The Marina Bay Sands resort


The resort is striking visually, too. From a distance, the three main towers, designed to resemble a deck of cards, look like they are balancing a giant surfboard on their roofs. But that giant surfboard (which is actually a bridge cantilevered off the northern tower) supports a three-acre park, appropriately named SkyPark, that contains swimming pools, gardens, and even jogging paths.

In addition to all that, SkyPark is apparently a terrific place to throw a party, as shown in the movie.

Singapore's natural beauty—including its coastal areas and tropical flora—is also showcased in the movie. I’m sure Sir Thomas Stamford Raffles would be absolutely amazed if he could see what the patch of jungle he knew 200 years ago has become today.

Here's a glimpse of Crazy Rich Asians:


The end of the Holy Roman Empire, or what happens when the Empire doesn't strike back



This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a whimper

T.S. Eliot wasn't actually describing the dissolution of the Holy Roman Empire when he wrote those words in his poem, “The Hollow Men.” Nonetheless, his words are an extremely apt way to describe the end of the Holy Roman Empire, which ended quietly with a stroke of a pen exactly 212 years ago in August of 1806.
That’s when the last emperor decided it was his duty to abdicate, letting the ancient dominion under his protection dissolve rather than allow Napoleon to usurp the role of Holy Roman Emperor and everything that came with it.
Francis II, the last Holy Roman Emperor
By that August the end of the empire had become inevitable. Napoleon’s victory over Russia and Austria at the Battle of Austerlitz in December of 1805 and his formation of the Confederation of the Rhine the following July (after he convinced 16 German princes to renounce their allegiance to the Holy Roman Empire and join him) were fatal blows.
Throughout its thousand-year history, the Empire encompassed a web of territories in central Europe, including much of what is today Germany and Italy. At its height, it was a formidable medieval institution, an unbeatable force that combined the divine power of the Pope with the temporal power of a monarch.
However, by the end of the 18th century, the Holy Roman Empire was, as Voltaire cynically remarked, neither holy, nor Roman, nor even an empire. The wars and political convulsions that resulted from the French Revolution weakened the realm, and it became a casualty of Napoleon’s insatiable thirst for conquest. 
During the Regency era, some statesmen believed that once Napoleon was defeated the Holy Roman Empire would be restored, perhaps by the Congress of Vienna in 1814-15. It was a reasonable assumption; the Congress was hosted, after all, by Francis I of Austria, who was the last Holy Roman Emperor.
But that didn’t happen when the Congress re-drew the map of Europe in an effort to balance the power of its nations. The Holy Roman Empire didn’t make a comeback, but also, Napoleon’s Confederation of the Rhine didn’t survive, either.
What did emerge from the deliberations was a new Germany made up of 39 states, with land from the two great powers of the day, Austria and Prussia, as well as many smaller kingdoms, including Bavaria, Saxony, and Hanover. And with that action, the Congress sowed the seeds of German nationalism, which grew and became a factor in the development a century later of two major wars.  
It’s hard for us to imagine today, after so much time has passed, what it must have been like for Europeans in the early 19th century to see the Holy Roman Empire fall apart. 
The Imperial Crown of the Holy Roman Empire.
On its panels are priceless jewels and scenes
from the life of Jesus Christ.
They were no doubt aware that their ancient empire had lost much of its lands and political clout in the wake of Napoleon’s conquests, which had toppled monarchies across the Continent. 
Still, the Holy Roman Empire had existed as a governing body for more than 10 centuries, and at least 30 generations had lived and died in its long shadow. In that summer of 1806 Europeans must have felt that the world as they knew it was coming to an end.
To put it in perspective, the United States of America has been around a mere 242 years, yet I believe most U.S. citizens would feel acutely bereft if they suddenly lost their national identity.  
But an entity like the Holy Roman Empire doesn’t disappear that easily. Even though the empire became defunct, its influence didn’t end in 1806.
During the 19th century, the history and traditions of the Holy Roman Empire gave the fledgling country of Germany a foundation. And in the 20th century, Adolf Hitler was fascinated by the Holy Roman Empire and kept it in mind as he developed his Third Reich, which eventually led to many of the horrors of World War II.
In particular, the Führer’s cruel and twisted ideas concerning a master Aryan race and the need to “purify” the German populace came out of his warped understanding of the mission of the empire’s fabled Teutonic Knights.
And while the Nazis famously looted and plundered a vast array of Europe’s art treasures during the war, one of Hitler’s top priorities was to capture the magnificent crown jewels that once belonged to the empire. No doubt he dreamed of using them in the future to give added legitimacy to his coronation as the ruler of a gloriously resurrected Holy Roman Empire.
Fortunately, most of the Imperial Crown Jewels have been recovered since the end of the war and are now on display in Vienna’s Kunsthistorisches Museum. I’d like to see these jeweled relics someday; I think they serve as a potent reminder that nothing endures forever, not even a thousand-year-old empire.
And for me, the sight of the recovered crown jewels would also reinforce that other fundamental lesson of history — that the past, no matter how dead it may seem, is somehow always with us.
What would the world look like if the Holy Roman Empire hadn’t been dissolved but had continued for another 200 years, into our 21st century? Here’s a short video that answers that question:


For more information on this subject, check out these sources:

Hitler's Holy Relics


Heart of Europe A History of the Holy Roman Empire
Heart of Europe, A History of the Holy Roman Empire, by Peter H. Wilson, The Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, Cambridge, Massachusetts, 2016

The Holy Roman Empire 
The Holy Roman Empire by James Bryce, Wildside Press, Cabin John, Maryland, 2009

Images in this post are courtesy of Wikimedia Commons

At the drop of a hat: a history of headgear

Shopping for hats in a Paris millinery shop, 1822

“Cock your hat – angles are attitudes,” said Frank Sinatra. While I would never disagree with Ol’ Blue Eyes, because I believe that a hat set at a rakish angle makes a statement in any era, I’d take it a step further. Sometimes the hat itself speaks volumes, all by itself, no matter how it sits on someone's head.

Cast your mind back to the Women’s March in Washington, D.C., in January of 2017. The hundreds of thousands of pink knitted or crocheted hats atop the heads of a sea of protestors made an unforgettable sight and sent a clear visual message concerning the marchers' support of human rights, along with their criticism of the newly inaugurated President Trump.

Likewise, a red mesh trucker hat emblazoned with the slogan “Make America Great Again” has become an unmistakable badge of a Trump supporter.

Phrygian caps adorned with tricolor cockades were
must-have accessories for French revolutionaries
And hats were especially important during the French Revolution, just prior to our Regency era. During that turbulent time a poor unfortunate who wasn’t wearing a hat associated with the revolt, or at the very least headwear displaying the revolutionary emblem of a red, white and blue cockade, could become a target of the mob. Wearing the wrong type of hat might ensure a trip to the guillotine, which would make a hat pointless. After all, why would you need a hat if you don’t have a head?

Revolutionaries wore Phrygian caps, a hat with a rich history that goes back to Roman times. Associated with the peasantry, this hat became a powerful symbol during the French Revolution, when it was better—and much safer—to look like peasant rather than an aristocrat.

The best way to picture a Phrygian cap is to take a look at Papa Smurf’s head. For some reason best known to his creators, Papa and his whole family wear Phrygian caps. It makes you wonder what those adorable midgets are really up to. Perhaps they’ve been conspiring with the mice in Disney’s animated Cinderella film – they wear Phrygian caps, too.

This hat has associations with the fight for liberty and antislavery movements around the world. In the U.S. it was even used on patriotic posters during World War I.

And it turns up in the darndest places – on the state flags of West Virginia, New Jersey, and New York, and it's part of an official seal of the U.S. ArmyIt's even on the seal of the United States Senate.

Plus, this red cap appears all over South and Latin America, too. You can see it on the coat of arms of Cuba, Nicaragua, Paraguay and El Salvador, and also on the state flag of Santa Catarina in Brazil. 

I must admit that Smurfs aside, seeing the hat gives me the creeps. It reminds me of the worst excesses of the French Revolution, as typified in the cartoon on the left by Isaac Cruikshank. Note the red Phrygian cap at the top of the guillotine, nestled between the two bloody axes. 

Hats have always been used to denote occupations (like a chef's toque, a firefighter's helmet or nurse’s cap), authority (the peaked hats of a police or armed forces officer), and above all, status. And nothing screams status like feathers.

During Regency times up through the Edwardian era, plumes have adorned the hats and heads of the rich and famous. They've been an indispensable part of evening apparel and military uniforms. And you can still see extravagant feather adornments on the fascinators and hats Brits often wear to fancy events such as royal weddings and the Royal Ascot horse races.

Rich titled women from centuries past through the present day are also fond of another type of headgear, the diamond tiara, to proclaim their privileged status. Although to be fair, it’s not just the aristocrats who like to flash a tiara – many an untitled little girl or bride-to-be has purchased a plastic tiara to wear to parties. And we mustn’t forget prom queens, either!

Poster from World War I showing
Lady Liberty in a Phrygian cap
Tiaras lead us to the ultimate status hat – a crown. Yet even that hat, despite its gold and precious gems, has its drawbacks. As Frederick the Great, a popular Prussian king whose life spanned most of the 18th century, remarked cynically, “A crown is merely a hat that lets the rain in.”

Crowns aside, hat-wearing declined throughout the 20th century. While they used to be required wearing for Sunday church services, even that practice has slowly died off.

The exception to this rule is the elaborate hats women in African-American communities often don to attend church services. The reason the women wear these hats, which coincidentally they call their “crowns,” is rooted in their interpretation of the Bible. The hats are symbols of their inner courage and faith. These church-goers may be single-handedly keeping the tradition of hat-wearing alive.

Jean Shrimpton, glamorous and
hatless in 1965. 
So, what almost killed the once-widespread custom of wearing hats? In the opinion of some fashion historians, hat-wearing was dealt two near-fatal blows in the mid-1900s, one by a sitting president and the other by a fashion model.

In 1960 the newly elected John F. Kennedy burst on the national scene with his beautiful wife and adorable children like a breath of fresh air. Following the grand-fatherly Eisenhower, the handsome young president brought a new style to the White House, where he was frequently photographed hatless, looking charmingly casual and modern, not to mention full of vitality. You couldn’t blame American men for wanting to follow his lead.

And a few years after JFK doomed hats for men, British model Jean Shrimpton did the same thing for women. When she was photographed in a white shift dress at the Melbourne Cup races in 1965, bare-legged with her long hair blowing unconfined in the wind, her carefree style was in sharp contrast to the formality of the women in the stands. Her beauty didn’t hurt, either. Suddenly, women felt dowdy wearing hats and hosiery. And they started leaving their hats in the closet. 

But hope may be on the horizon for those who love hats beyond the ever-present Stetsons and baseball caps. Hipsters with their porkpie hats, fedoras, and slouchy knitted beanies (which look a little like Phrygian caps, in my opinion) are working hard to make hats fashionable again.

And tiaras will never go out of style!

Emerald and diamond tiara, made in 1820, that once belonged to the
Duchess of Angoulême. It's now sparkling in the Louvre.


For more information on this intriguing fashion item, check out these sources:

Tim Gunns Fashion Bible The Fascinating History of Everything in Your Closet

Tim Gunn’s Fashion Bible, The Fascinating History of Everything in Your Closet, by Tim Gunn with Ada Calhoun, Gallery Books, New York 2012



Hats

Hats, by Clair Hughes, Bloomsbury Visual Arts, London 2017




Images in this post courtesy of Wikimedia Commons

It's a Blog Revival

The Regency Looking Glass is back! I have some good news - I'm happy to announce that The Regency Looking Glass (which I started in 2013...