All that is goldfish ...

Joanna here, talking about Regency Goldfish. 

This goldfish posting is a classic posting from seven years ago, rather than something new. I do apologize. But you're caught me at a perfect storm of personal challenges including, but not limited to, taxes; galleys suddenly due on the next book; buying a new car; (having banged up the old car in a permanent way); speaking at a conference; and flitting up and down the northeastern states in airplanes that tilted and bobbed like rubber ducks in a bathtub except with occasional lightning which we do not see so often in well-regulated bathtubs.

Onward, then, with my scattered apologies, to a retread post.

 * * * * *

You've probably asked yourself, from time to time, if there are any Shakespeare quotations about goldfish. 

Did Shakespeare say, "That which we call a goldfish, by any other name would be as bright"? 
Or insult some catiff with a, "Thou wimpled, reeling-ripe goldfish-lickler!" 

He did not. 
Goldfish didn't make it to England till nearly a century after Shakespeare's death. We got Shakespeare's take on dogs and cats, camels, carp, marmosets, mackerel, and whales . . . but not goldfish. 

I shall offer you my take on goldfish instead —

Goldfish
The Carp Who Made Good. 

The carp is a wide-spread, useful and reasonably  tasty fish that's been domesticated for a couple millennia in China.  While the Chinese were raising carp for the table, they'd noticed a common mutation that threw an orange or gold fish in among the ordinary ones. 

After centuries of noticing that, about a thousand years ago, the Chinese set down to the serious business of breeding these bright-colored fishes as garden ornaments.  The women of the imperial court doubtless engaged in a little friendly rivalry as to the beauty and vigor of their particular line of goldfish.  They'd bring them inside in big porcelain basins to enjoy.  Especially favored courtiers would be invited over to watch the fish swim, this being before TV and Wii.

When trade routes opened in the 1600s, goldfish were freed from their splendid isolation in the Mandarin's garden and went travelling the world.  Japan first.  Then southern Europe, coming in through Portugal.  Then just about everywhere.

The Japanese Kanji characters for goldfish are 'gold' and 'fish'.  'King yo'.  In Dutch, goldfish is goudvis.  French, poisson d'or.  Spanish, carpa dorada.  Goldfish tend to be called 'goldfish'. 

When goldfish hit Europe, it settled a bit of an artistic conundrum.  Chinese  paintings had been arriving in Europe with representations of goldfish.  "Pooh," said some.  "Mythical animals." 

Turned out it wasn't artistic license. 
It was fish.

Legend has it goldfish were brought to France as a present for Madame de Pompadour.  In Russia, Prince Potemkin gave goldfish to Catherine the Great. 

Goldfish were the Tiffany trinket of the Eighteenth Century.

Joanna here, talking about Regency Goldfish. 

This goldfish posting is a classic posting from seven years ago, rather than something new. I do apologize. But you're caught me at a perfect storm of personal challenges including, but not limited to, taxes; galleys suddenly due on the next book; buying a new car; (having banged up the old car in a permanent way); speaking at a conference; and flitting up and down the northeastern states in airplanes that tilted and bobbed like rubber ducks in a bathtub except with occasional lightning which we do not see so often in well-regulated bathtubs.

Onward, then, with my scattered apologies, to a retread post.

 * * * * *

You've probably asked yourself, from time to time, if there are any Shakespeare quotations about goldfish. 

Did Shakespeare say, "That which we call a goldfish, by any other name would be as bright"? 
Or insult some catiff with a, "Thou wimpled, reeling-ripe goldfish-lickler!" 

He did not. 
Goldfish didn't make it to England till nearly a century after Shakespeare's death. We got Shakespeare's take on dogs and cats, camels, carp, marmosets, mackerel, and whales . . . but not goldfish. 

I shall offer you my take on goldfish instead —

Goldfish
The Carp Who Made Good. 

The carp is a wide-spread, useful and reasonably  tasty fish that's been domesticated for a couple millennia in China.  While the Chinese were raising carp for the table, they'd noticed a common mutation that threw an orange or gold fish in among the ordinary ones. 

After centuries of noticing that, about a thousand years ago, the Chinese set down to the serious business of breeding these bright-colored fishes as garden ornaments.  The women of the imperial court doubtless engaged in a little friendly rivalry as to the beauty and vigor of their particular line of goldfish.  They'd bring them inside in big porcelain basins to enjoy.  Especially favored courtiers would be invited over to watch the fish swim, this being before TV and Wii.

When trade routes opened in the 1600s, goldfish were freed from their splendid isolation in the Mandarin's garden and went travelling the world.  Japan first.  Then southern Europe, coming in through Portugal.  Then just about everywhere.

The Japanese Kanji characters for goldfish are 'gold' and 'fish'.  'King yo'.  In Dutch, goldfish is goudvis.  French, poisson d'or.  Spanish, carpa dorada.  Goldfish tend to be called 'goldfish'. 

When goldfish hit Europe, it settled a bit of an artistic conundrum.  Chinese  paintings had been arriving in Europe with representations of goldfish.  "Pooh," said some.  "Mythical animals." 

Turned out it wasn't artistic license. 
It was fish.

Legend has it goldfish were brought to France as a present for Madame de Pompadour.  In Russia, Prince Potemkin gave goldfish to Catherine the Great. 

Goldfish were the Tiffany trinket of the Eighteenth Century.

And across southern Europe in those years, it became a tradition for husbands to give their wives a goldfish on the first anniversary as a symbol for prosperous years to come.

Our Regency lady with her goldfish

 

Here to the left is a pair of impeccably French goldfish from 1800 in an impeccable period fishbowl. 

Goldfish moved into England in 1728, brought over to a Sir Matthew Dekker who handed them out to his friends and neighbors in London. 

They were, when first introduced into England, considered rare and fragile.  As late as 1821, a naturalist could write,

"Great care is necessary to preserve them; for they are extremely delicate, and sensible of the least injuries of the air; a loud noise, such as that of thunder or cannon; a strong smell, a violent shaking of the vessel or a single touch, will often destroy them."

Admittedly, the survival of a goldfish in the care of a ten-year-old boy is somewhat of a crap shoot. But it's not as bad as that.

The most illustrious patron of goldfish in Georgian England was Horace Walpole, who kept a pond of them at his home, Strawberry Hill, bred them and gifted them about Europe. 

Here's Walpole

 Said Walpole: 

"I have lately given count Perron some gold-fish, which he has carried in his post-chaise to Turin: he has already carried some before. The Russian minister has asked me for some too, but I doubt their succeeding there . . ."

Goldfish:  Eighteenth Century baksheesh, greasing the wheels of international diplomacy.

 

Strawberyy Hill, a manor house of many goldfish

Walpole tells the story:  

"I Was prevented from finishing my letter yesterday, by what do you think ? By no less magnificent a circumstance than a deluge  . . .  About four arrived such a flood, that we could not see out of the windows: the whole lawn was a lake . . .  I had but just, time to collect two dogs, a couple of sheep, a pair of bantams, and a brace of gold-fish; for, in the haste of my zeal to imitate my ancestor Noah, I forgot that fish would not easily be drowned.

In short, if you chance to spy a little ark with pinnacles sailing towards Jersey, open the sky-light, and you will find some of your acquaintance. You never saw such desolation ! A pigeon brings word that Mabland has fared still worse."

I can see Walpole, retreating from his flooded house with his 'brace of goldfish'. 

That's Strawberry Hill somewhat far above, Walpole's magnificent Gothic madness.  To the left and slightly above is an entirely unrelated set of Matisse goldfish.

Elsewhere Walpole says,

"You may get your pond ready as soon as you please; the gold fish swarm: Mr. Bentley carried a dozen to town t'other day in a decanter.
You would be entertained with our fishing; instead of nets and rods and lines and worms, we use nothing but a pail and a basin and a tea-strainer, which I persuade my neighbours is the Chinese method."

It's not impossible your goldfish -- if you have one -- is descended from the adventurous fish of Walpole's pond at Strawberry Hill.

By the Regency, goldfish were a commonplace in the parlor, kept in goldfish  bowls that looked exactly like the modern variety.  Goldfish seem to have made 'unexceptional', affectionate presents.

In Maria Edgeworth's novel, Belinda, goldfish are sent to an invalid. -- "I have  some gold fish, which you know cannot make the least noise: may I send them to her?"

This picture to the right is Kitty Fisher, Eighteenth Century courtesan, with goldfish bowl and cat.

Kitty Fisher

Developing on the courtesan theme, below Kitty is the courtesan Wakamurasaki playing with a goldfish.  

Folks tended to moralize about the whole 'gold' thing.  In Thomas Gray's poem, The Cat and the Gold Fish, the poor cat falls into the goldfish vase:

No master came, no servant stirr'd;
Nor cruel Tom, nor Susan heard :
A fav'rite has no friend!

Learn hence, ye fair ones, undeceiv'd,
False steps are hard to be retriev'd,
And be with caution bold.

Not all that tempts your wand'ring eyes,
And heedless hearts, is lawful prize;
Nor all that glisters gold.

In Regency England, if you weren't lucky enough to be gifted with goldfish, you might buy your own from the itinerant goldfish peddler.  The Regency was a great time for merchandise coming to you instead of t'other way round. 

In the interests of providing a full audio-visual experience, I'm going to wander far afield from the Regency and bring in Debussy's piano piece, Poisson d'or.  Poisson d'or — 'Goldfish', of course.   Debussy's work was inspired by this particular lacquer artwork here to the right.  It hung in his study. 

You can listen to Poisson d'or here.  That's Magda Tagliaferro playing, and she's 92.

(Debussy used to call the times when inspiration ran dry, his 'factory of  nothingness.")

While you're listening to that goldfish music . . .

I became interested in the question of Regency and French Revolutionary goldfish,
(allow me to pause while I rid my mind of the image of small revolutionary fish carrying banners,)
because, in my book, The Forbidden Rose, my heroine kept goldfish. Naturally, I did research.

In this scene her chateau has been burned and looted, and naturally no one thinks about the fish in a situation like this.  It's always the innocent fish that suffer.

* * * * *

He stood, looking formidable. Behind him, dawn curved like a shell.

The wide granite pool was white as the moon.  It was cold as the moon when she dipped her hand beneath the surface of the reflection. “Will you tell me what you plan to do with me? I am naturally curious.”

“We’ll talk about it when we’re on the road. I want to get away from here. Soap.” LeBreton laid it beside the towels.  A metal box of soft and greasy-looking soap. “Probably not what you’re used to.”

“It is lovely. Thank you.”

“Don’t get any in the pool.”

Fish were poisoned by soap. She liked it that LeBreton knew that, and cared. It is in such small things that men reveal themselves.

Goldfish came and nibbled at her fingers. She had named them all when she was a child. Moses—because he parted the waters—and Blondine and fat, lazy Rousseau.  Once the noisy Jacobin riffraff took themselves off, Mayor Leclerc would come from the village with tubs to steal her fish for his own pond. He had coveted them for many years.  She hoped he would hurry. They should not be neglected in this fashion.

. . . (and later) . . .

She wore nothing at all. It was strange to be unclothed under the open sky. 

Her reflection looked up at her from the fish basin, more pale than the sky, rippling in the circles that spread where fish came to lip at the surface. The rim of the basin was gritty under her, with little puddles in every unevenness. The wind of the new day scraped her skin like a dull knife. She put her feet in the water. The slippery film of mud at the bottom of the pool crept up between her toes.

Cold. Immeasurably cold.

Quickly, before she lost her courage, she wet half the towel, rubbed water down her arms, over her stomach, hissing every breath in and out. Then up and down her thighs. She washed every scratch, every cut. There was not one of them without a sting. It was not helpful to remind herself that she was the descendent of warriors.

Moses and Rousseau and the other great rulers of the pool held themselves aloof, but many small fish came to nibble at her calves and ankles and the knuckles of her hands with little bites, like kittens.

* * * * *

Author anecdote here:  My aunt had a goldfish named Moses who lived in a big ornamental pond behind her house.  He used to come up to the top and blow bubbles when she rang a bell.  When you write your own books you get to name the fictional goldfish after goldfish you have known personally.

Anyhow . . . While goldfish were swimming happily about in English drawing rooms in 1730-ish, they didn't arrive in America till about a century later.  They showed up sometime in the early years of the Nineteenth Century.  No one knows just when.  Actress Fanny Kemble recounts finding goldfish in a pool at a florists in New York in the 1830s.

Which brings us at last to the vexatious question of

Goldfish versus Koi. 
The cagematch.

Koi to the left.  Goldfish to the right.   

Both goldfish and koi were bred from wild carp populations.  
Goldfish started out in China, a thousand years ago.  Koi arose from a different breed of carp, in Japan, in the mid Nineteenth Century. 

Koi are Johnnies-come-lately.  No Regency koi, alas.

Since I cannot resist talking about koi anyway:  The Japanese word 'koi' means simply 'carp'.  What we call koi the Japanese call 'nishikigoi'.  'Brocaded carp'. 
By chance, the Japanese word, 'koi', is a homophone  for another word that means 'affection' or 'love'.  Koi are therefore symbols of love and friendship in Japan.

In celebration of the goldfishes Blondine, Rousseau and Moses, I'll be giving away a copy of either The Forbidden Rose or any other of my books you take a fancy to, to one lucky poster in the comment trail.

So -- what pet should the Romance heroine, (or hero,) keep?  Monkey, hedgehog, ferret, hummingbird?  Maybe an attack dog?

Comments

[Lillian Marek]

Well, you’ve already done a ferret, I’m dubious about the practicality of caging a hummingbird, a monkey would require a good bit of training efore it was anything other than a nuisance, and a hedgehog is a bit prickly. Given the propensity of your heroines to get into dangerous situation, I really recommend the attack dog.

As for goldfish, when I was in grammar school we had a tank of goldfish in the classroom one year. It was just a tank—no mechanized aerators or anything of the sort—and had to be emptied and refilled each week. It was an enormous treat to be allowed to clean that tank, I remember. (I think the teacher was channeling Tom Sawyer.) First you had to scoop out the fish in a net, but them in a bucket of water, then drain the tank into another bucket using a piece of tubing as a siphon, dump that water, refill the tank, and restore the goldfish to their home.

Isn’t it amazing what kids will fight to do?

[Kathy K]

What about some sort of song bird, like a canary?

[Mary Jo Putney]

++(allow me to pause while I rid my mind of the image of small revolutionary fish carrying banners,) ++

Now I have that image in my mind, too! It's quite charming. *G*

[Kareni]

What a fun post! I'm glad you reposted it as I missed it seven years ago.

As to a regency pet, I'll happily vote for a hedgehog. Since we couldn't have pets when my daughter was young, we gave her a Venus Flytrap. She named it Vicious. Feel free to have a Regency hero or heroine keep a carnivorous plant!

[Sue McCormick]

I thoroughly did enjoy the post. Our family were never able to keep fish going in any fish
in any form, but reading about them was FUN!

As to your exotic pets, pick what you like. I prefer cats (and I would include dogs if I
sensitive to them.

[StephanieL]

What about an owl? Orrrrr a lynx...LOL probably safer to stay with an attack dog. Or at least a very faithful friend dog. A long long time ago I worked at a retail store that sold fish and had a doozy of a time keeping them alive to be purchased. That always told me that fish were much too delicate for my caretaking skills. LOL

[Shannon]

I fondly remember the various short lived gold fish in a round bowl. We even had a black one for a few months. We kept them on a tall stool far away from the cat's perches. She eyed them as often as she could.

My sympathies about busyness. Cars and taxes are the current bane of my life.

[Minna]

How about a parrot? The kind that can talk.

[Kanchb]

This was such a lovely, fun, enjoyable post! I missed reading it previously, and throughly enjoyed it. I've always wanted another Baluchistan Hound to pop up in a book set in the regency era but what about a peacock as a pet for your heroine?

I know the male peacock's are the ones with the magnificent blue-ish tail whereas the poor peahen has a drab brown coat. Also for all their beauty, they make a most raccoons and loud screech - the first time I heard it, I wondered who was being killed in the gardens we were touring.

I also like the idea Kareni mentioned about a Venus Fly Trap named Vicious!

[Beverly Abney]

When I was quite young we lived in a house with a goldfish pool in the yard. For some unknown to me reason, my parents decided to fill it with sand and rehome the fish. I remember we sometimes unearthed an occasional fish when playing in this sand box.

[Faith Freewoman]

Fun, Joanna! Did you know that hedgehogs are ticklish, and laugh when you tickle them, and love bananas, and tend to talk a lot in a perfectly adorable, cuddly voice? If you google "hedgehog banana," you might be able to find the video clip I saw a couple of years ago.

This was a delightful lunch break read, thanks!

Cheers, Faith

[Teresa Broderick]

When my children were young they had a goldfish each as a pet. For some reason my daughter's ones kept dying. I think she had about ten eventually. My son's one lived for four years which I believe is quite long for a goldfish.
I'd love an owl as a pet. I love those birds. I have statues and notebooks and bags with them on it. Would love to see one in a Regency.
Enjoyed the post.

[Joanne Bourne]

An attack dog, huh?

Meeks Street nearly always has a huge dog hanging about the place. (Doyle WILL bring home strays.) I think they're more dangerous-looking than dangerous.

But I do like the idea of a dangerous dog and some character who has to deal with that.

I have made many trips to the lake, in the old days, filling buckets of lake water for the fish tank.

The fish seemed to thrive on that lake water and the old fish water was lovely in the garden. A win-win for everybody.

And yes, the kids seemed to like the process.

[Joanne Bourne]

I love birds, but I'm so very allergic to feathers.

Oddly, I've never written a bird as a pet.
Maybe that allergy?

[Joanne Bourne]

They travel in schools.
Naturally fish are intellectuals. Radical intellectuals, perhaps?

[Joanne Bourne]

Laura Kinsale had a hedgehog in Midsummer Moon.

I have to recommend that book SOOO strongly.
(Now I want to go reread it.)
I loved that hedgehog.

Whenever I think fictional carnivorous plant I hear it saying ... FEEEED MEEEEE!

[Joanne Bourne]

Meeks Street has both cats and dogs. I'd find it a very poor spy headquarters without them.

And I have both myself, so ...

[Joanne Bourne]

For reasons that now escape me I once spent a long time talking to a man who kept fish alive in an absolutely huge fish store. I mean, it stretched over half a city block.

He said it's all in the water.

[Joanne Bourne]

Taxes are the bane of everyone's life. (jo says darkly.)

There is a certain natural balance between goldfish and cats. In the long run, the cat generally wins. That's all I can say on the subject.

[Joanne Bourne]

I will keep parrots in mind. There's quite a lot to parrot keeping, apparently.

Now I'm wondering how hummingbirds would do, weightless, in space.

[Joanne Bourne]

I have known people who lived near peacocks and who had very little good to say about them. Nosy, they say.

On the other hand, I've known people who lived in California where many species of tropical birds have established themselves in the suburbs. Also noisy, I believe.

[Joanne Bourne]

My guess -- sad guess here -- is they probably considered an unwatched fish pond to be too dangerous for a family with small children.

I do wish they'd been more thorough dipping out the goldfish, though. Must be disconcerting to find them ... ummm... somewhat too late.

[Joanne Bourne]

Good heavens.

I did not realize there was so much I did not know about hedgehogs.

If Laura Kinsale had not beaten me to it I might even consider a random hedgehog at some point.

I better stick to cats and dogs, maybe.

[Joanne Bourne]

I don't know much about owl keeping. They're not like hawks or falcons or suchlike that are used for hunting. Which is odd when you consider how good they are at catching small prey.

I like those little owls that nest on the ground and are very small. Burrowing owls.

I don't think I'd want one for a pet, but I would purely love to protect some and give them a safe habitat and watch them from a distance. I guess that's a kind of pet.

[Lillian Marek]

Think of Susan (the dog) in Loretta Chase's The Last Hellion.

[Vicki L.]

Talking about hedgehogs...there is a hedgehog that appears all through the Hathaway Family series by Lisa Kleypas.

Off the top of my head there is a gecko?Chamelon? I know it is a lizard thing that is important in the first book (Amelia's story).

The 2nd book (Poppy's) the hedgehog is mentioned and plays a role numerous times.

Not sure if any particular animal played a roll in Win's book.

In Leo & Catherine/Cat's book a ferret is very important

The last book with the youngest sister (Beatrix) a dog with PTSD plays a very important roll. Besides of course all the other animals the youngest sister has.

She (Beatrix) also has a cat named Lucky with 3 legs.

As for owls...they wouldn't have been very useful for hunting. They generally prefer to hunt at dawn and dusk. Though they do hunt in the dark - their eyes are bestfor night vision, not day vision. I don't know that they would be very trainable either. I could be all wrong but that is my impression.

[Michelle H]

What a sweet, cute and historically educational post. You posted about one of my all time favorite things. I've had pet fish in quite a few periods of my life. Currently we have a small stock tank in our backyard with goldfish 'hybrids'(a little unintentional interbreeding going on.) My first was the pond my grandfather built in their backyard. They also had turtles, but it attracted frogs too. That was when I was very little. Lots of other bowls, aquariums, etc., in between.

I'm sorry for the circumstances that led to you repeating this for us, but it was new to me, you really hit a soft spot in my heart. So, thank you.

Dogs do not ever seem to be over done when it comes to books and I love it when they play a roll in a Regency story. Mary Jo has some neat cats in her stories, I'm frankly a cat person. I appreciate our friends' dogs, though.

[Joanne Bourne]

There's something beautifully human in putting a dog in the book. Humanity's oldest friends.

Every child in all our first history growing up with a dog next to them in the archetypal pile of grass and animal skins bed. Gnawing on bones from the family meal. Playing catch with some stick.

I know our Regency heroine has to be free of dogs and cats, parents, protective brothers and sisters, interested neighbors and school friends ... otherwise she can't go off adventuring.

But yes, I think she'd have a dog in real life.

[Karin]

Lovely post. Having been on vacation, I am just catching up on my blog reading now. I'll have to get out my copy of The Forbidden Rose to find the goldfish sections!
I also looked up Kitty Fisher and found out the subject of the painting is a play on words of her name!

[Joanne Bourne]

Yes. The 'Kitty Fisher' portrait is so joke-y. Not terribly complimentary to her, either.