I’m newly fascinated with the Skolt people of Lapland, and the (apparently well-accepted) idea among 20th-century sociologists that they were all telepaths! See this wire-service story from April 5, 1952, for example.
I feel like there’s a book in here somewhere, but this is the kind of thing that’s so great that I have no desire whatsoever to dig into it because I’m afraid actual facts will ruin the thing. I just want my mind-reading, caribou-herding northerners to be out there somewhere in the snow.
I first heard about Lapp ESP through a passing reference in Alan Fletcher’s design text/coffee table conversation piece/commonplace book The Art of Looking Sideways, which I can’t recommend highly enough.
Just now, I reopened Fletcher’s book at random, and found another great story: William Holman Hunt’s classic Pre-Raphaelite painting Il Dolce Far Niente depicts the body of his mistress and the face of his wife. (!!!)
But when you look it up online, the story isn’t as great as it sounds. The painting’s not a nude, for example. And Hunt wasn’t created a super-sexy wish fulfillment mash-up of his wife and lover (far niente in the streets, dolce in the sheets, as it were). It’s just that he started the portrait when he was engaged to one woman, and tweaked the face later because by the time he finished it, he was married to another.
Not quite as good, right? Stupid Internet. I wrote an article this week about the New Madrid earthquake, mentioning the old story about the church bells in Boston ringing a thousand miles away. A Twitter buddy corrected me: the story about the bells did appear in the Boston papers that week, but it was just a too-vaguely-phrased account of something that had actually happened in Charleston. Look too closely and all the great trivia evanesces away. But in the dark all women are beautiful.