Today I have a tale that is sure to shock & horrify.
I don't tell it to be gross.
I simply share this tale of woe and wonder because it fascinated me. And I hope it fascinates you too.
The tale begins in 1849 in the strategically-placed town of Poitiers, France. It begins with the birth of a little girl.
A quite average girl to be honest. Nothing out of the ordinary. Other than that she was born to an aristocratic and well-to-do family. And, as it turns out, she grew into a teenager that caught the eyes of many potential suitors.
Which really pissed her family off.
So much so in fact, they did something dreadful.
They locked her in a room and boarded it up. So that not even the sunlight could come in for 25 long, grueling years.
To make matters worse:
She was not allowed to get out of bed.
She was not allowed to shower.
All she could do was lay in bed, where she ate, drank, and... uhm... did the things that happen after you eat and drink. All in her crusty bed.
As you can imagine, she went crazy.
All as her thin frame wasted away.
I mean, the quarantine we are coming out of was bad... but could you imagine 25 years like that?
The cruelest part is that her family never intended to let her out. The only reason she was found is because one of the servants sent an anonymous letter to the police warning of a "spinster who is locked up in Madame Monnier's house, half-starved and living on a putrid litter for the past twenty-five years — in a word, in her own filth."
The police, thinking it was a hoax as the family was extremely well-respected, went to the house as a formality.
So how did they find her?
Well, I gotta warn you... it's GROSS.
They SMELLED her.
Yup. The reek from her room was so noxious that they were alerted by a "rotting smell coming from one of the rooms."
And as if your lunch wasn't curdling enough, when the police found her, they described her as:
"lying naked on a rotten mattress. All around her formed a crust made from excrement and fragments of food... We also saw bugs running across [the] bed. The air inside was so unbearable, it was impossible for us to proceed with our investigation any longer."
And on that note, I fear it is impossible for me to proceed with this email any longer. Lest I lose my breaky.
I know here you're probably expecting me to tie this into some marketing lesson as I usually do.
And I'm sure I could.
I could say something like "don't lock your customers away and ignore them for 25 years"... or "don't trust the aristocratic copywriters out there, you never know what they have rotting behind closed doors"... or "always investigate customer service complaints, even if they seem like a hoax."
But today you just get the story.
I suppose there's a lesson in that.
Now then, if you're interested in discussing a copywriting project with me (and you don't want it to take 25 grueling, disgusting years), head now to the link below:
When you do, fill out the form. If you qualify, your information will be locked into my boarded up waitlist and will be notified when I next have an opening in my schedule.
P.S. Just so you know, this was not a happy ending. Just because she left the room, does not mean she was allowed to escape, so to speak. Because after her rescue, she was simply locked up into the batty room of her own insanity.
Insanity like: eating and sexualizing human excrement... schizophrenia... exhibitionism... and more.
About a decade later she died, all by her lonesome, in a psychiatric hospital.
A sad tale indeed.