Is this painting of King Louis XIV and Molière a lie?

A detailed painting of well dressed French aristocrats, servants, and a member of clergy standing in a bedchamber, focused on the small dining table where King Louis 14 and his guest share a meal.
“Louis XIV et Molière” by Jean-Léon Gérôme, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

There’s no evidence that Molière dined with the Sun King. Furthermore, if it did happen, it didn’t look like this painting. And I’m not just talking about the lighting.

The work was painted in 1862 by Jean-Léon Gérôme, who was one of the most important artists of his time. One of the genres that he worked in was historical painting, depictions of scenes from history. Meals such as the one in the painting were happening from 1669-1715.

Molière did perform at Versailles, and the king was a fan and patron. But Molière was more likely to be dinner entertainment than a dinner guest. Being an actor was not a respected profession. “Molière” was a stage name, taken to spare embarrassment to his family, who were affluent members of the bourgeoisie. Under the previous regime, actors were considered subversive, and not even allowed to be buried on hallowed ground.

Attention from Louis XIV was a much coveted and carefully managed commodity, and he would be unlikely to squander it on an actor. As Margaret Visser wrote, “Intimacy with Louis meant power, and power was symbolically expressed in attending to certain of the king’s most private and physical needs: handing him his stockings to put on in the morning, being present as he used his chaise percée, rushing when the signal sounded to be present as he got ready for bed. It mattered desperately what closeness the king allowed you– whether he spoke to you, in front of whom, and for how long.” [1]

If such a meal between the two men occurred, I would have expected better documentary evidence. The painting is supposedly based on an episode from a noblewoman’s memoirs. [2] But I wasn’t able to find it in the Château de Versailles database of memoirs [3]. It may be mentioned in a biography of Molière. If someone has better information, let me know.

If the meal did occur, it didn’t look like this.

Louis XIV and Molière would not be sitting across from each other. They would have been sitting side by side, like the head table at a wedding. The meal was a spectacle, intended to be seen, and for the nobility to be seen. The table would have an elaborate display of both dishes in porcelain, silver, and gold, and of food on platters and pyramids. Only individuals seated at the table ate. Everyone else was the audience. (They typically obtained nourishment at a separate time and place.)

Photo of a banquet table adorned with heavy cloth and flowers, on it, fine glasses, ceramic dishware and tall stacks of fruits. In the background, the room has extensive gold embellishments and hanging frames of art.
Banquet table in the style of Louis XIV by Saveurs D’Histoire

While Gérôme applied a 19th Century sensibility to the dining table, he did get the seating mostly right. Only the royal family were permitted chairs at these meals. Only monarchs sat on a fauteil, a chair with arms. Other members of the royal family were permitted chairs with backs, but not arms. Highly ranked noblewomen were given tabouret, a padded stool, smaller than the one in the Gérôme painting. If Molière was seated, it would have been on a tabouret. It’s more likely that he wasn’t seated at all, as it would put him too far above his station. Furthermore, Louis’s penchant for routine meant that he rarely made ad hoc decisions or exceptions.

Photograph of a restored salon at Versailles. The decor is extravagant with a chandelier and ornaments on the walls and doors. There is a dining table with silverware and china. Around the table are two chairs and four stools.
Salon of the “Grand Couvert” from Etiquipedia

There would not have been a bed in the room. Le Grand Couvert occurred daily at 10pm in the antechamber to the Queen’s bedroom. So while it was an intimate location, and was a bookend to the lever at the start of the day, it wasn’t the room where she slept. (It’s possible that her attendants slept in this antechamber, but they did not have beds like this. It’s more likely that the Queen and her posse all piled in the bed together.)

The room would have been much more crowded. I previously mentioned the attention economy around Louis XIV. If one were to gain status or favour for their projects, one needed to be in the same room as the king. Not only would the room be full to capacity, but there would also be nobility looking in through the doorway.

There would have been more women in the room. The royal family participated in Le Grand Couvert as it was their evening meal too. (This arrangement likely contributed to Louis’s son, later Louis XV, to prefer small quiet suppers without the spectacle during his reign.) By the same token, noble wives would have attended as well.

The clothing in the painting was reasonably accurate. At formal events, of which Le Grand Couvert was one of many, the men did dress in sumptuous frock coats, short pants with knee socks, and high-heeled shoes. Outside of these settings, men typically wore a black or dark gray suit, with a similar, but simpler cut. Molière’s suit is in this style, though the coat sleeves often were longer. Furthermore, he likely could not afford the formal attire.

While this painting is replete with historical inaccuracies, is it a lie? It depends on how it’s presented. For example, Hamilton the musical is based on a biography of a historical figure, but at the same time Lin-Manuel Miranda has made a number of artistic decisions that aren’t factually correct. It’s somehow more obvious when people are singing and dancing on a stage that the story didn’t really happen that way.

To me, the most jarring one is in “A Winter’s Ball,” where Aaron Burr sings, “Martha Washington named her feral tomcat after him.”

Hamilton turns to the audience and says, “That’s true.”

And it’s definitely not true, although the lyrics gesture to something that is true, which is Hamilton repeating a false story about him.

Historical paintings in the 19th Century were intended to be educational. Past events were opportunities to communicate values to an audience. In this sense, it’s not so different from Hamilton.

But we get in trouble when art is presented as fact. Art poses questions, engages in dialogue, and reflects ourselves back to us. In this instance, a painting of something that actually happened in just this way.

This painting of Louis XIV and Molière by Gérôme came up because I was doing research on dinner etiquette. Various web sites would show this painting [4,5,6] or one like it [7] in an uncritical manner. Although there are exceptions [2], these sites tended not to give the context that this beautifully-rendered painting was not a high-fidelity recounting, but an artistic interpretation. Consequently, we are deceived into thinking that the painting depicts historical fact. But we played a role in that deception.

Our contemporary eyes are influenced by photography and cameras as infallible documentary. But we should know better. Images can be Photoshopped, clips can be edited down, and a video can be a deep fake. Part of the labour that we need to do as audiences is to participate in the conversation, not to stay mired in our unconscious biases, and add back in the context.

[1] Margaret Visser, The Rituals of Dinner: The Origins, Evolution, Eccentricities and Meaning of Table Manners, Penguin Books, 1991.
[2] https://eclecticlight.co/2018/07/20/too-real-the-narrative-paintings-of-jean-leon-gerome-3/
[3] Château de Versailles Online Etiquette Database
[4] https://searchinginhistory.blogspot.com/2014/06/dinning-with-king-louis-xiv.html
[5] https://www.offbeatfrance.com/a-day-in-the-life-of-louis-xiv.html
[6] http://scihi.org/moliere-comedy/
[7] https://www.ripleys.com/weird-news/appetite-louis-xiv/

Does a book from 1840 really say don’t discuss religion or politics?

I was curious about the origin of the saying, “Never talk about politics or religion in polite company.” One of the oldest references that came up on Google was The Letter Bag of the Great Western (1840) by Thomas Chandler Haliburton. I needed to track down this book and I was in luck: there was a copy at the Toronto Reference Library in the Baldwin Collection of Canadiana. I went down a serious rabbit hole that day. Let me tell you about the best bits.

The Baldwin Collection is part of the rare book collection, housed in its own room within the library. When I entered Marilyn & Charles Baillie Special Collections Centre, I had to register to use the space. The librarian helped me fill out a request for the book. Then, I waited in the tranquil rotunda for a staff member to bring it to me.

Photograph of red leather-bound book, book jacket, slip cover, book cradle, and book weight.
Items for protecting The Letter Bag of the Great Western

The outermost layer was a slipcover, a custom-made box for the book fashioned from heavy card stock. The next layer was a book jacket. The book itself was bound in red leather. It had previously been re-bound, so the original spine and front cover were included at the end of the book.

The librarian provided a foam book cradle, so I could have the book open without damaging the spine. She also provided a book weight, a long bean bag for holding the book open gently. Even with these precautions, there were quite a few crumbs of leather on the desk by the time that I was done.

I did not have to wear gloves to handle the book. I could use only a pencil (no pens!) to take notes and I was not allowed to eat or drink.

Each chapter of The Letter Bag of the Great Western was a letter from a passenger aboard the ship. The book was… puzzling. The diction and sentence structures were foreign, not surprising given the 180 years between me and the author. But it was odd in other ways too.

For example, the book dedicated the Right Honourable Lord John Russell, who was Prime Minister of Britain at the time. Although the author didn’t know the Prime Minister, he included the tribute to make the book more marketable. He wrote:

All the world will say that is in vain for the Whig ministry to make protestations of regard for the colonies, when the author of that lively work “The Letter Bag of the Great Western,” remains in obscurity in Nova Scotia, languishing in want of timely patronage, and posterity, that invariably does justice (although it is unfortunately rather too late always) will pronounce that you failed in your first duty, as protector of colonial literature, if you do not do the pretty upon this occasion.

In the Preface, the author breaks the fourth wall and doesn’t tell us how he came into the possession of private mail.

The obvious inference is, I confess, either that the postmaster-general has been guilty of unpardonable neglect, or that I have taken a most unwarrantable liberty with his letter bag. Under these circumstances, I regret that I do not feel myself authorized, even in my own justifications, to satisfy the curious reader…

I needed more context to make sense of this book.

SS Great Western was a wooden hulled, paddle steamer that was built for the purpose of making regular crossings between Bristol and New York.

Lithograph of Great Western, which has four masts and a paddle wheel midship
The Steam Great Western by A. Robertson; Napoleon Sarony; Robinson, H. R. – http://collections.rmg.co.uk/collections/objects/148806, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=63198045

The ship was large– dangerously large, critics contended– so the crossing would be fuel efficient. It displaced 2300 tons, and was 76.8m long and 17.59m wide across the wheels. It was capable of carrying 120 passengers, 20 servants, and a crew of 60. Between 1838 and 1856, the Great Western crossed the Atlantic Ocean 45 times. The westward crossing would take 16 days and the reverse trip took about 13.4 days.

Sidebar: There was subsequently an even larger ship named SS Great Eastern, built to make regular journeys to Australia. There was a CBC radio series of the same name that purported to be aired by the Broadcasting Corporation of Newfoundland.

The author was Thomas Chandler Haliburton. He was born in Nova Scotia in 1796 and died in England in 1865. He was the first Canadian-born author to gain international renown, which is why the library had this book in their collection. Haliburton was a lawyer, judge, and member of the Nova Scotia Legislative Assembly. When he retired from law, he moved to England and while he was there he became a Member of Parliament.

Haliburton wrote both fiction (satirical sketches) and non-fiction (reports on life in Nova Scotia).

The pieces fell into place when I realized that The Letter Bag of the Great Western was a work of satirical fiction, which is completely consistent with other work by Haliburton.

This bit of insight meant that I needed to look at the suggestion to not talk about politics or religion in a different light.

The relevant letter is from “John Stager” and titled “Letter from an Old Hand.” It gives 18 tips on how to live one’s best life on the ship. To illustrate, here is Tip #1.

1st. Call steward, inquire the number of your cabin; he will tell you it is No. 1, perhaps. Ah, very true, steward; here is half a sovereign to begin with; don’t forget it is No. 1. This is the beginning of the voyage, I shall not forget the end of it. He never does lose sight of No. 1, and you continue to be No. 1 ever after; –best dish at dinner, by accident, is always placed before you, best attendance behind you, and so on. You can never say with the poor devil that was hen-pecked, “The first of the tea and the last of the coff-ee for poor Jerr-y.” –I always do this.

This is sassy writing. One can imagine this tip as part of a Mr. Bean skit or perhaps a Borat movie.

Let’s now turn to Tip #12, which mentions politics and religion, and was the original reason for tracking down this book

12th. Never discuss religion or politics with those who hold opinions opposite to yours; they are subjects that heat in handling until they burn your fingers. Never talk learnedly on topics you know, it makes people afraid of you. Never talk on subjects you don’t know, it makes people despise you…

This advice is impossible to follow. How do you learn that someone holds opinions different from yours without engaging in discussion? If you can never talk about subjects you know nor subjects you don’t know, what is left?

Haliburton is satirizing conventional etiquette. As a legislator, he no doubt had many conversations about politics. Even the dedication of The Letter Bag of the Great Western was a political gesture.

A couple of inferences can be made here. One, in 1840 the adage to never discuss politics or religion is sufficiently well known that it can be satirized. Two, the saying is worthy of being mocked, as if one can’t seriously suggest it or follow it.

And yet two centuries later, we have Miss Manners, lawyers, a business blogger, and others giving this advice seriously.

I’m going to keep digging, both backwards and forwards in time. Where did this adage come from? And what is it doing to us now?

The day spent at the Toronto Reference Library was a pleasure. There were so many books; if only we could learn from them through osmosis. It felt like time travel to touch a book that was published so long ago. It’s an inclusive space that requires neither money nor a library card for admission. It’s quiet and the librarians are here to help. The bathrooms are clean, with burly paper towels that actually dry your hands, and sharps disposal units. I’m thankful that when so much of the city feels like it is coming undone due to underfunding, we still have this oasis of knowledge and dignity.

Another woman goes over the glass cliff

Last month, we saw Liz Truss go over a glass cliff. She was Prime Minister of the United Kingdom for a tumultuous 45 days.

A glass cliff is tendency to promote women into a leadership role during a time of crisis when there is a high risk of failure. This promotion is typically followed by spectacular and public failure.

Research on the glass cliff has focused on women, and that bias is present in this article. The findings are likely applicable to gender non-conforming individuals and members of other underrepresented groups. For instance, Truss’s successor, Rishi Sunak, is the first British Asian Prime Minister and he might be headed over the same glass cliff. In addition, an individual who is at the intersection of multiple underrepresented groups may experience a geometric increase in challenges.

Michelle K. Ryan and S. Alexander Haslam were the first to characterize the glass cliff. They found that women were more likely to be promoted during a crisis for multiple reasons.

  1. There was strong association between female management and failing companies.
  2. There is a perception that women have better “soft skills” which are needed during a downturn, which is a kind of benevolent sexism.
  3. Women have fewer advancement opportunities and are more likely to accept a position with a high risk of failure.
  4. Men protect other men from high risk positions, a phenomenon called “in-group favoritism.”
  5. Women are viewed as more expendable.
  6. Appointing a woman leader can signal that drastic action is being taken.

Ryan and Haslam found that 52% of men questioned the existence of a glass cliff, while only 5% of women expressed doubts.

Looking specifically at large cap tech companies, Douglas Branson wrote in his 2018 book about eight women CEOs who got the job during a crisis or downturn. (There were only an additional 4 women tech CEOs in his study who were not glass cliff hires.) As the list below shows, some women do succeed despite being hired during a crisis or downturn.

  • Carleton Fiorina, HP, 1999-2005. Fiorina’s time included acquisitions, layoffs, operating losses, and falling stock prices. At the end, she was forced to resign by the board.
  • Safra Catz, Oracle, 1999-present. During Catz’s tenure, Oracle’s market share went from over 40% to 0.41% for cloud services.
  • Anne Mulcahy, Xerox, 2001-2009. Mulcahy oversaw thirteen consecutive quarters of losses and a stock price drop from $10.05 to $6.82. Mulcahy was named CEO of the Year before her retirement.
  • Patricia Russo, Lucent Technnologies (later Alcatel), 2002-2008. Russo returned Lucent to profitability in 2004 after three years of losses and subsequently took the helm at the post-merger Lucent/Alcatel.
  • Carol Bartz, Yahoo!, 2009-2011. Despite making cuts to the work force, reducing costs, and restructuring the organization, Bartz wasn’t able stop the losses and take Yahoo! in a positive direction. She was removed from the role by the board.
  • Meg Whitman, HP, 2011-2017. After three years of losses, layoffs, and a 62% decline in stock price, Whitman broke up the iconic company.
  • Marissa Mayer, Yahoo!, 2012-2017. Every move that Mayer made as CEO was under the microscope, and there was a lot of second guessing in the media coverage. When she wasn’t able to turn around the Internet giant, she was dismissed by the board, following a sale to Verizon for $4.8 billion, a fraction of its peak value of $125 billion
  • Virginia Rometty, IBM, 2012-2020. Rometty oversaw five years of quarterly revenue declines before she retired.

Today, among Fortune 500 companies, 32 (6.4%) are women and 1 transgender woman (Sue Nabi of Coty). This group includes five in tech: Safra Catz (Oracle), Shar Dubey (Match Group), Christine Leahy (CDW), Lisa Su (AMD), and Jayshree Ullal (Arista Networks).

But in the four years since Branson’s study, I haven’t seen anything that would suggest a decrease in glass cliff promotions. The technology sector has largely been on an upswing. In the last six months, many tech companies have laid off staff and tightened budgets. We are now entering an era when tech companies are contracting, and one might occur.

Glass cliff promotions are not limited to the C-suite. To my knowledge, I’ve not had the opportunity to be a glass cliff promotion. But I have seen a woman head a death march project.

How about you? Have you experienced a glass cliff promotion? How did you cope? How did it turn out?