Today is the 20th anniversary of the death of Audrey Hepburn, my great icon since childhood. I don't remember her death, though I do remember her most famous films. It was my Irish grandmother who exposed me to them. Audrey really was a paragon of beauty and the archetypal lady, a well-educated, loving (she had a great store of love and a tremendous need to give it) woman who lived a fascinating life. At the end of her days she had accomplished so much for the benefit of humanity and died in peace, though untimely, and I daresay in the grace of God. As I sit here in the dining room, looking out through the French doors onto the garden as the Lord sends downs snow from the heavens to blanket the world in quiet, I am reminded of the song of the High Elves in the Woody End, who sang a song of Valinor to Varda, Queen of the Stars.
Snow-white! Snow-white! O Lady clear!
O Queen beyond the Western Seas!
O Light to us that wander here
Amid the world of woven trees!
Gilthoniel! O Elbereth!
Clear are thy eyes and bright thy breath!
Snow-white! Snow-white! We sing to thee
In a far land beyond the Sea.
O stars that in the Sunless Year
With shining hand by her were sown,
In windy fields now bright and clear
We see your silver blossom blown!
O Elbereth! Gilthoniel!
We still remember, we who dwell
In this far land beneath the trees,
Thy starlight on the Western Seas.
I just finished watching Roman Holiday, now in its 60th year. Women like to Audrey are few and far between nowadays, for women have become more like men; they dress like men, act like men, take men's jobs. This has nothing to do with how attractive you are, or how much foundation you paint onto your face; femininity is an innate quality which has been sapped from society (and from the various churches).
Anyway, without going on, I commit the soul of Audrey Hepburn to the care of the Almighty. May she rest in peace. Amen.
A note on the photo: Not the most glamorous, perhaps, but I've been having trouble uploading images to Blogger this past week; even URLs don't seem to be recognised. How annoying, but then I'm not technically minded.
Couldn't disagree more. From Faith Hill to Gwenyth Paltrow, there're plenty of women in the public eye who would meet your criteria, not say nothing of the droves in daily life. What barrow are you under?
ReplyDeleteI meant generally. Tolkien moaned about women wearing trousers in the 1960s, and why should I not? If I went to work in a pencil skirt I'd be asked to go home and change.
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