Helvetica
To be inspired or not to be

The eternal debate about art and mass production. Two fonts illustrate it pointedly. On one hand there’s Helvetica, the iconic typeface that Apple chose for its Macs, that many hot brands chose for their logos and that myriads of unknown people chose for whatever reason it pleased them. Created in Basel in 1957 under the name of Haas Grotesk by an obscure but nevertheless genius designer Max Miedinger (1910-1980), Helvetica is so famous worldwide that a book – a bestseller no less – is devoted to its worship. And on the other hand, there’s Arial a 1980’s pale imitation by Microsoft. So effortlessly used daily by millions of workers it isn’t noticed anymore. Which side are you on?

Kappel’s milky soup
Love potion

If the French chose to cause bloodshed during the Reformation’s wars, the Swiss chose to cause… milkshed. June 1529: the combined strength of the five Catholic cantons face the Protestant troops at Kappel. Bernese authorities cannot quite decide whether to launch men into the assault. A mediation is attempted. In the meantime, soldiers on both sides recognize each other; scads of them had fought together during the Italian campaign. Goddammit, they think, what’s the point of being enemies? The Catholics thus place a pot of milk on the front line and invite the Protestants to soak some bread in it. Every man to his own tactics, huh, except war starts up two years later?!

Bernese Public Baths
Womanizer-authorized only

My mind boggled when I heard the story. I can’t imagine yours. Immediately put away all those clichéd ideas about the Protestant, rigid, Swiss capital, Bern (BE). Some Venetian wolf, well-known for his scandalously lustful adventures, kept a fabulous memory of his stop there some 250 years ago. Just think?! He experienced one of the purest physical joys of his desire’s quest?: he was asked to choose a servant from among a few tantalizing young ladies put at his entire disposal. A dream that couldn’t come true in any other big European city at the time. Wanna taste, aspiring Casanova?

Maillart, Ella
Hell of a bird?!

Let’s be serious one minute. There are no words complimentary enough to sum up such a destiny. Between 1903 and 1997, a sailor, skier, and founder at 16 years old of the first Swiss women’s hockeyclub. And, above all, an eminent explorer in India and Nepal, constantly resuming her journey, crossing Asia from Beijing to Kashmir with Peter Fleming, and a sharp-witted bestselling author of travel stories. As for the question "why travel?" she answered, "to find those who still live in peace". A touch of grace.

Einstein
String-pulling in flagrante delicto

How come young Albert became a naturalized Swiss citizen and the 1.5 million foreigners currently living in our beautiful cuckoo-clock country cannot? Maybe E=mc2 later confirmed to the federal authorities that he had that essential drop of Swiss blood necessary to invoke a blood right to citizenship, which popular votes rejected in 2005 as a basis for systematically grant Swiss nationality at the third generation. Next time you want to try your luck, it’s worth having a go at a formula no one is able to prove. Think about it. Free trick.

Mund’s gold
Caviar-like whim

Should I tell you how to invest in something even more expensive than gold? Try Mund’s gold. It’s beyond your philosophy in financial investments, probably one of the best dead losses you never dreamed to realize. Picture a small village in Valais where families have united since the XIVth century to save what really makes up their identity: the annual 3kg crop of the "son of the sun and the poetry", i.e. the 1.62 million hand-plucked red stigma of the crocus sativus (a type of iris that blossoms in the autumn) which produces rare and precious saffron. No doubt this intimate yield from 14 thousand lilac-coloured square metres, (too small to provide any grower with a living), is unconcerned by the agricultural policy that aims to improve Swiss competitiveness by 2011. But who ever thought luxury is bound to be financially viable?

Mussolini
He who laughs last laughs longest

There he is again, that’s him, our old friend Benito in a brilliant, brief repartee act that history did not remember. Let me explain. Around 1902, young Benito cavorted in Lausanne, leading a bohemian life doing things the interest of decency force me to pass over in silence. Anyway, he got arrested one day for vagrancy and went back triumphantly to the scene of his crime twenty years later as "Il Duce". Meeting by chance the policeman who’d sent him to jail – an officer of the law who had become supervisor in the meantime – “ Il Duce” told him?: "Sir, last time I met you, you got me arrested". To which the supervisor replied?: "Sir, luck turns". QED.

Nobel Prizes
Brain-boxes or thick-witted guys?

Hard to settle. However, this existential question doesn’t come out of the blue. The distinction of having the highest rate of Nobel Prizes per head still belongs to Switzerland. That is to say, one award per five percent of the population. Which revives the controversial correlation between I.Q. and brain size. In a word, does brain size matter? Or, rather, if you read between the lines – which I trust you to do – are the Swiss the smartest guys in the world just because they have bigger and heavier brains? Might their record have anything to do with immigration criteria, given that three out of five Nobel Prize winners in chemistry are naturalized citizens? I leave it to you, brainies.

Ritz, Cesar
Dictionary-made

A gentleman of the luxury hotels business. General manager of several five-star hotels like Monaco’s Grand Hotel and London’s Savoy before founding the spectacular but discreet masterpiece, Paris’ Ritz – easy Frenchies, you’re not the only ones in the luxury running business. His immense talent was far from the breathtaking extravaganza displayed nowadays around the world – it was absolutely chic. Cesar (1850-1918) was so very successful that an adjective’s been created from his last name. Today, "ritzy" means quintessential, palatial elegance. Timeless homage.

Sacramento
Terminator in Heidiland

Does Mr Universe know that, as the 38th Governor of California, he owes everything to Johann Augustus Sutter (1803-1880)? I’ll bet you anything he doesn’t. By the way, don’t even think of making me believe you do. So, listen hard. In 1839, an ambitious Swiss adventurer built a fort – Fort-Sutter – where the American and Sacramento rivers meet. Soon, Sutter held court right in the middle of "New Helvetia", 20 thousand hectares the Mexicans had given him. And when one of his employees discovered gold on his soil, it looked like he was at the height of his fame. In fact, Mexico had sold California to the young American State in 1848, which hurried to deny any property rights to the Swiss. Sacramento became California’s capital in 1854. Hence, the smart pun ‘Terminator in Heidiland’.

Töpffer
Bubbles’ king

No. It’s not about champagne. Sorry, guys. Render unto Caesar the things which are Caesar’s instead. Actually, this Caesar is Rodolphe Töpffer (1799-1846), a French and Greek teacher, supervisor of a boarding school in Geneva, and second-rate painter. I’m sharp of hearing: why make such a fuss about him, he who published a Story of Mister Old Wood (1827) that you can’t be bothered to leaf through, you’re whispering? Because with his unknown book, he’s the founder of both the 9th Art and its criticism.

Unspunnen Stone
Romancing the Stone II

Stop drumming your fingers absentmindedly on the review. Here is a very good Hollywood-action-movie-like story to end with. Used in the popular eponymous feast, the Unspunnen stone is a 167-pound symbolic boulder that appeared in 1805. On 3 June 1984 the stone was stolen. The Rams, Jura’s separatist group who did not disdain terrorist acts in its time, claimed responsibility for the infamy. In 1999, accredited Bernese photographer Michael von Graffenried took a picture of the Stone, hidden deep in a cellar in Charleroi’s vicinity, Belgium. But people had to wait until 2001 to get their symbol back, until it was stolen again the 21 August 2005 by strangers. Today, the mystery remains unsolved. See? I told you it had the makings of a blockbuster. I wonder why Spielberg’s line is busy.