Mere-torr (A Tower Built by the Sea)

Built to guide ships, I shall guide none,
The Armada is sunk and gone,
And all the golds and all the reds in all my rooms
Fade still pristine, never ever lost or won.

⁂

Faite pour guider des nefs, je n'en guiderai point,
L'Armada a sombré au loin,
Et tous les ors et tous les rouges de toutes mes chambres
Disparaissent vierges encore, et ni pertes ni gains.

They sweep past me, the valiant sails,
And their lookouts to no avail
Watch for the gleam of new lands, quarries to build empires,
And sneer at the sea, and the stones, and the hail.

⁂

Elles passent et tourbillonnent, voiles vaillantes
Futilement leurs vigies mal-voyantes
Cherchent l'éclat de terres nouvelles, des carrières d'où tirer des empires,
Et méprisent la mer, et les pierres, et la grêle sifflante.

We three thus sit always alone,
All three gilded, all three wind-blown,
Come forlorn on a ship wrought only of your own dreams
If you wish to claim the star-gazing throne.

⁂

Tous trois nous siégeons retirés,
Tous trois dorés, par l'air jetés,
Venez perdus sur un navire fait de vos seuls rêves
Si vous prétendez au trône éthéré.

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The Seastorm by Pieter Bruegel (the Elder), c. 1568.

Jórsalaferðinn (The Journey to Jerusalem)

Thus appears
Thus walks past
And disappears
The Puy du Connétable, the stone grown upon stone.
A Puy is good, weary, slow, triumphant connétable,
But have you not thousands ? Each dune build upon dune, and hill gazed upon hill,
Your well is the desert - drink it to drunkenness
And well you'll have conquered, wayward crusader !

Ainsi paraît
Ainsi marche aux côtés
Et puis disparaît
Le Puy du Connétable, la pierre tirée de pierre.
Un Puy est bon, fatigué, lent, triomphant connétable,
Mais n'en as-tu pas mille ? Chaque dune bâtie sur dune, et chaque colline vue sur colline,
Ton puis est le désert - bois-le jusqu'à l'ivresse
Et puis tu conquerras, croisé égaré !

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This one is, perhaps, a bit far-fetched ; but consider it an exercise in far-fetching. It is an extract from "Humours of an Election" by William Hogarth, and, as you may guess, the actual subject has very little to do with Palestine or Crusader castles. William Hogarth is a well-known painter and satirist whose main subject is 18th century England.

This illustrates how Minute Wonderworking (and especially Orthodox Marginalism) often relies on a combination of detail (here, William Hogarth's background depiction of what is probably supposed to be a church, as an icon of rural England - note the cottage nearby in the original picture) and lack of the selfsame detail (here, the depiction is blurry enough that one may perfectly imagine some kind of hilltop crusader castle, akin to this one for instance).

Behold the power of Minute Wonderworking : from 18th century England to 12th century Palestine in a snap of... mind.

Steinlyptingar (Forecastles of stone)

To each hilltop its castle, and to each man his own.
Wars are long gone, now remains a labyrinth
Of ridges, of vales, of a sea of woodlands,
Of mountains undisturbed, and precious rare stonewalls.
No more kingdom in Arnor but for striders,
No more duchies in the Vosges but in dreams.

* * *

À chaque sommet son château, et à chacun le sien.
Les guerres sont depuis longtemps disparues, demeure un labyrinthe
De crêtes, de vaux, d'une mer de forêts,
De montagnes impassibles, et de rares, précieux murs.
Plus de royaume en Arnor sinon pour les rôdeurs,
Plus de duchés dans les Vosges sinon en rêve.

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Albrecht Altdorfer again. But this time, the style is different, closer to medieval-style miniatures. As you can see, the picture (a "Triumph of emperor Maximilian during the Swiss war") has three "planes", and of course, only the smallest, furthest away one interests us minute wonderworkers.

Below is a wider gaze at the sea of hills and trees in which these steinlyptingar sail.



(Again, really unsubtle retouching, but the only goal is to avoid having things so ugly they distract the viewer.)

Stig fyrir stig (step for step)

To climb, to gaze, step for step...
The Tower. The Rooftop Bush.
To climb, to watch, step for step...
The Slippery Tiles.
To climb, to look out and away, step for step...
The Light-Punctured Forest of beams. The Cloud Kingdom.
Even without a throne, to climb is to be king.

* * *

Monter, observer, pas à pas...
La Tour. Le Buisson du Toit.
Monter, regarder, pas à pas...
Les Tuiles Glissantes.
Monter, embrasser les dehors lointains, pas à pas...
La Forêt Ajourée des poutres. Le Royaume des Nuages.
Même sans trône, monter c'est être roi.

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Ancient battles and christs are not the only ones that can be ignored. Plain factories have that right, too. Now we're headed for the 19th century, with Alfred Rethel's "Die Harkortsche Fabrik auf Burg Wetter". Again, it's from Commons.
One could argue that this is not true Marginalism, as there is no real "main subject" in this picture, and thus, no true margin. I cannot argue with that logic, but I would respond that this is Escapist Partialism, a sister ideology of Marginalism, a schism, if you will, in the great religion of Phantasmatic Deconstructionism and Minute Wonderworking.
You know a religion is good when at the third meeting, its founder announces that he has created a schismatic current distinct from his own, original mainstream. Adhere today.

Taka úkunna stiga (to walk unknown paths)

First stop, a neglected barn.
Second stop, a small village near an aristocratic castle.
Third stop, an abandoned tower.
Fourth stop, the trees, the rocks, the snow. The cold, sprawling gap...
There and never back again.

* * *

Première étape, une grange négligée.
Deuxième étape, un petit village au pied d'un aristocratique château.
Troisième étape, une tour abandonnée.
Quatrième étape, les arbres, les pierres, la neige. La trouée froide et ouverte...
Histoire d'un aller, sans jamais de retour.

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Another picture by Albrecht Altdorfer, who indeed carries us far away. This time it is a side element from a crucifixion (see here on Commons). Perhaps the path is provided so the viewer can escape at will from this dreary (and done a billion times over) subject. And an alluring escape it is... the trees, the mountains... the lonely tower as a last stop before the wilderness...

Fjalarnir ok sjárinn (the Mountains and the Sea)

Beneath jagged mountains, cities sit...
Sous des montagnes dentelées, des villes s'étendent...

...towers rise, ships sail... A black tower looms in the East...
...des tours s'élèvent, des navires passent... Une tour noire menace à l'Est...

...an endless sea beyond...
...une mer sans fin au-delà...

Is it my hometown of Konungahella, in the fjords of Norway, in the past days of Sigurth Jerusalemfarer ?

Is it the havens of Gondor, sprawling in the bay of Belfalas, whence the sails of the Ship-Kings depart to explore and conquer ?

Est-ce ma ville natale de Konungahella, dans les fjords de Norvège, aux jours anciens de Sigurth qui Alla à Jérusalem ?

Sont-ce les ports du Gondor, s'ouvrant sur la Baie de Belfalas, d'où les voiles des Rois-Navigateurs partent pour explorer et conquérir ?

Click me to read spoilers

It is in fact part of the background of "The Battle of Alexander at Issus" by Albrecht Altdorfer. It is the subject of today's featured article on Wikipedia (thanks again, WP !). The article will tell you what sea this is, and what each features are. It's less wildly imaginative... but very interesting. Guess what the Black Tower in the East is supposed to be ?