"I wish to remain an eternal enigma to myself and to others"

I like this guy already.

This morning I find myself in Germany, both within my own head and surprisingly also in reality. So why not write about one of my favorite Germans? Why not indeed.

Anyone else think he's kinda hot?

King Ludwig II (or if you're not into the whole brevity thing, Ludwig Otto Friedrich Wilhelm.) was king for 22 years, and remains a beloved icon in Germany. (Don't call him the Mad King in front of the locals. They don't like that much.) He funded art, architecture and music and was a true lover of great and beautiful things. One more reason to dig this guy.

As with many royal children, he had a very structured young life with a regimented schedule of lessons and exercise. He was never close to his mother or father, relying on his eccentric grandfather for adult companionship. He was very shy and sensitive and the absence of regular comfort and love made him more so.

I imagine he was quite lonely at times and thus his imagination seemed to be his way to cope or escape his sometimes dreary childhood. He loved fantastical plays, operas and poetry. He would later develop a friendship with Richard Wagner because of his love of his particular brand of music.

He became King at 18 when his father died suddenly. He started not with policy changes or new laws but with adding to Bavarian culture with a new theater, commissioned operas from Wagner (Ludwig and Wagner = BFF) and other composers and introduced Shakespeare, Moliere and Mozart.

The young and handsome Ludwig was engaged to a cousin for a short time but after much postponing, the engagement was broken off. Scholars debate whether he was gay. He kept a diary that was lost sometime during the second world war but there were some copies that seem to share his struggle with keeping with his catholic faith and his desires.

Other than his cultural contributions to Bavaria, most people would probably know Ludwig for his castles. This was a man who loved his castles, so much so he nearly bankrupt himself funding his dream projects. This is probably the one most people know best.

When you wish upon a star...

He was an odd guy but I don't think he was crazy. He would often have private performances of ballets and operas with either just himself or one other guest. Mostly because, according to Ludwig himself, he didn't like people staring at him because he couldn't concentrate on the play. He was never one for formal events where there would be large crowds. He would often go on night time sleigh rides (with antique sleigh of course) because he fancied himself "The Moon King", sleeping during the day and living at night. Much of the "crazy" king stigma comes from what happen near the end of his life.

Death site memorial for Ludwig

His would have been a pretty interesting life all together but Ludwig wasn't going to go out simply, sleeping cozy in his bed or even dying in "glorious battle". No, this strange guy went out in an equally strange way. 1886, Ludwig was 40 and had pretty much receded into a quiet and solitary life. He was spending every penny he (and anyone he could borrow money from) had on his building projects and the Bavarian ministers had finally had enough. They gathered "evidence" from servants, and had him declared bat-shit-crazy. (I don't think that's the official declaration but it's more fun so there ya go.) The very next day Ludwig was found face down in Lake Starnberb. It was ruled a suicide. Although he had been prone to suicidal thoughts, things didn't really add up. There was no water in Ludwig's lungs and no one believed he had drowned anyway because he had been a strong swimmer since he was a child. One of the psychologist who declared him nutty coo-coo,  Dr. Gudden was bludgeoned/strangled and found dead near Ludwig. Some researchers theorize Ludwig was shot, others say he had a heart attack while fleeing. Perhaps he killed Gudden then died of shock. Honestly, no one knows what happened to him.

I have a lot in common with this "mad king" and I love him for so many reasons. Mostly though, it is because he is a mystery, not only because of how he died but how he lived as well. My favorite quote from Ludwig (and the title to the a little too long article) is "I wish to remain an eternal enigma to myself and to others."

Indeed.


http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/8/8b/Neuschwanstein_Fernblick_pano2.jpg
panoramic view from Neuschwanstein
http://www.oocities.org/gedojudea/ludwig/diary.html
Some letters to/from our dear Lugwig

Our History

The tragic lost and the places they departed from...

I'm not sure when exactly my interest with history and death came to fruition. I knew I always loved history in general. I stood in the green, seeming boring fields in Gettysburg when I was 10 and knew I was somewhere very important. I stared at pictures of the great Hartford circus fire and wanted to ask Emmet Kelly what he felt when we was carrying children from the fire. I saw WW2 vet pilots and I wanted to crawl their minds and see what they saw. I wanted to know what color underwear Louise the 14th wore. I was always a curious and strange kid.

And it seems where ever history is, so is death. They go hand in hand, most times. With the death of Queen Mary the first of England, her sister Elizabeth took over and united England after much upheaval and confusion.

A little boy named Adam Walsh was kidnapped at a Sears in Florida. His head was found weeks later. The horrifying death of this one little boy changed America and even the world. John Walsh, his father, a successful business man who built luxury hotel, began a life long mission. It resulted in the capture of over 1000 criminals, the foundation of The National Center for Missing and Exploited Children, and multiple pieces of legislation passed into law to help protect children.

Jayne Mansfield, her boyfriend, driver and 3 children were driving to New Orleans for a show when 20 year old Ronnie Harrison, the driver, continued to drive through a fog of insecticide without slowing and slammed into the back of a semi. The three adults in the front seat were killed instantly while the three children were spared with only cuts and minor breaks. Because of this horrifying accident, all large semis have a protective bar underneath the trailer to prevent smaller cars from hitting under the bottom and shearing the top of the car off. (Sometimes called 'Mansfield Bars', or so I'm told...) How many lives has this saved?

Of course, there is a kind of morbid fascination, but only to an extent. I am not one who gets their rocks off by looking a crime scene photos or masturbates to car accidents. It's the history and the life that was lived and the events that took place. If you don't recognize the dead, then you ignore everything they did, what they died for and even how they lived. Lionel Barrymore said in the movie Grand Hotel, "Believe me, if a man doesn't know death, he doesn't know life." That pretty much covers it.

And it's about loss. Because we all die. We all have to deal with our own mortality. Some are lucky and get to drift away in their warm beds. Others not so much. This is one reason why I am so fascinated by the lives and deaths of the people that touch my heart, even if only a little. If they are a part of me and they shuffle off this mortal coil, I am compelled to know what happened to that little piece of my heart.

The actor that made me cry when he sat in Rick's Cafe and wept over the girl that had come back into his life... with another man. Drowning his sorrow, barely holding his head up, listening to their song over and over again. I know you have felt this kind of sorrow; haven't all of us? He died of cancer at his home.

A young woman, only 22 years old, was executed via guillotine for opposing the Third Reich by distributing anti-Nazi leaflets at her college. When you were 22, did you believe in something so much that you were willing to die for it? She was an amazing person.

And in 1967, my cousin was driving to New Orleans and accidentally hit a semi, killing an aging Hollywood starlet.

History happens all around us.

When I was 19, I stood in the side drive at Griffith Observatory and watched James Dean fight with the other boys from school. The beautiful boy, only 24 years old in his red jacket and heartbreaking tears. When he shot his last scene for Rebel Without a Cause, he only had 4 months before his fateful drive on Route 466. His passenger walked away with a broken collarbone and a few other minor injuries. (He would die in a different car accident in 1981.)

When I was 24, I sat at the Eiffel tower and watched as the people of France wept as the Nazis marched into the city in June 1940. I saw the spot where Hitler stood for a photo op in front of the tower. (I am determined to visit the same spot where he took his own life and Europe was truly free from that piece of evil.) Over 2 million allies were killed or wounded. In the end, the world was free from the Nazis hold, but at such a cost.

And now, I've just booked myself a seat on the Dearly Departed Van Tour of old and new Hollywood to visit the places where some of my favorite people lived and died.

It's about history. It's about death. It's about a three hour tour. And I plan to have a great time. See you there.

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