Picfic Tuesday: Art Appreciation

[alynwa.livejournal.com]

“I’ve always thought this painting is beautiful,” Napoleon mused aloud as he read the Sunday Times magazine as he lounged on his couch.

“Hmmm?” Illya was sprawled on his stomach on Napoleon’s living room floor reading the Science and Technology section. It was late Sunday morning and the Russian had arrived an hour earlier with the paper, store - bought blueberry scones, Earl Grey tea and honey to add to the eggs, bacon, home fries, orange juice and coffee Napoleon had prepared for their meal. The two agents’ friendship had progressed in the five years they had been partnered to the point where they enjoyed spending a lot of their down time together. All the naysayers who thought the Old Man had finally made a major strategic error pairing the outgoing, skirt – chasing, bon vivant man about town Napoleon Solo with the introverted, slightly hostile, seemingly asexual Ice Prince of a Russian were astonished by their track record. “What painting?”

The brunet flipped the magazine around to show Illya the picture. “Oh, the Black Madonna of Czestochowa! I am familiar with it. I have been to the church that houses it. I did not know you were familiar with the Madonna.”

“One of the nuns who taught me in junior high school was from Czestochowa, Poland and was very proud of the Black Madonna and felt it was her duty to tell us about her. Did you know that King Casimir proclaimed her Queen of Poland in 1656 because the year before she had been credited with helping a small group of Poles defeat a much larger number of Swedish invaders?”

Illya turned over and sat up Indian fashion. “I did not know that!” the blond said approvingly as he smiled up at his partner. “I am impressed!”

“Well,” Napoleon continued, “did you know that they say the reason she is black is because of soot residue left behind from years of votive candles being burned in front of the painting?”

“That I did know. You said ‘they say.’ Do you not believe it?”

“I never thought about it until I listened to a tape of a speech made by Huey Newton, one of the founders of the American Black Panther Party. He was expressing his outrage at how the achievements of black people throughout history, in his opinion, have been minimized, stolen or allowed to become lost. I guess one could make an argument that the Black Madonna and child are really the Black Madonna and child; their skin is dark, but the halos and the color of their clothing are easily seen and don’t seem affected by votive candle smoke. Who knows? It was painted by Saint Luke the Evangelist while Mary told him the story of Jesus and he later incorporated what he was told into his Gospel. There are obviously dark skinned people in that part of the world so far be it from me to say that it is completely impossible.”

The blond nodded, “That is an interesting point, Napoleon. Do you know anything else about the Black Madonna?”

Napoleon smiled and replied, “I know She is credited with the defeat of the Russian army along the Wisla River during World War Two.”

Illya rolled his eyes. “You would know that.” He stretched his arms above his head and yawned mightily. “Do you realize what just happened?” he asked.

“What?”

“We just discovered we have something in common: An appreciation of the same painting.”

“Hey, you’re right. It only took five years. I guess five years from now we’ll find out something else we have in common!”

Illya laid back down to continue reading his section of the newspaper. “Do not push it, Solo.”