Is this a plate from Darwin's Origin of Species? That's my best guess without recourse to Google. I reckon a good use of them all would be some kind of stew...
1) An ape chokes her young embracing him. coecus amor sobolis. The love we have for our children is blind.
2) A tortoise. Domus optima. The best house is one’s own.
3) A squirrel crossing a river on a plank, with its tail up high. Vincit solertia vires. Cleverness surpasses strength, etc….
From Recueil d’emblêmes, devises, medailles… (Collection of emblems, devices, medals…), by Nicolas Verien, Paris, 1724.
And I'd intended it to be one of a collection of rare finds that my main character had even though you wouldn't expect someone of his class to have. Unfortunately, I realized that...yeah, he wouldn't have.
That photograph reminds me a lot of the work of Ed Bateman, who teaches photography and computer classes at my university. He photoshops in robots, machines, or devices meant to communicate with the dead and then sometimes prints them like traditional photographs.
Anyway, that's clearly not damage to the photograph, but rather some sort of electric energy expelling from her face. Maybe there's an antenna under the hat.
"Right, my lovelies - an explanation, is it?" [In the best cod-Swanzeeeee you can do.]
Initially I had plans for my protagonist's wife to feature more in the book and, in those sections, for her to have a penchant for wearing traditional Welsh garb. The hat here has to be a pisstake [even though traditional garb is pretty close] so I'd intended for one of the scenes that bonded them together was a playful hat swapping and clothes trying in a clothes/tailoring shop that they knew they couldn't afford. They would have pretended to be well off on entering, only to try several things on and pose for each other then tell the clerk that it wasn't quite right and exuent.
Unfortunately, this bit proved superfluous to the action of the book and distracted too much from the emotional currents. Ah well - we cut our lovies.
It is so freakin easy to fall behind - 'Bi-weekly' I said, 'Every Wednesday and Sunday' I said. Pah - one night of preparation for one job and this one gets a shot to the gut. Pah.
OK, well, our Fashionable Beauty might well have been Giuseppina Ronzi de Begnis, an opera singer and I'd originally intended a large opera-flecked parallel strain of narrative that saw a fashionable beauty rise through the singer ranks to starlet status. This was to emphasize how certain class ideals put a decadent culture ahead of others for the sake of tradition but...it would have been too much for such a beautifully simple book. It would have made the whole narrative too Joycean and too distracting. Ho hum, we cut our loves.
That last pic is from Sketches in London, by James Grant, London, published in 1850.
An excellent scene, I think: depicting a sometimes typical invasion of the stage but it's the details that count - look at where the audience's hands are.
As I've said before, I'd considered a parallel storyline in an opera but I'd also considered having my two troupe to the theatre - unfortunately, I thought it'd make it too melodramatic.