Welcome to Aaron Manke's Cabinet of Curiosities, a production of iHeartRadio and Grimm and Mild. Our world is full of the unexplainable, and if history is an open book, all of these amazing tales are right there on display, just waiting for us to explore. Welcome to the Cabinet of Curiosities. In late nineteenth century, Paris rescue workers pulled a young
woman's body out of the River Sene. By the time she was lifted out of the water, she was already dead from an apparent drowning, but strangely, there was no panic or fear in her eyes. Instead, a rescue worker brushed the damp hair away from her face and found a beautiful, peaceful half smile on her lips. The work didn't find anything in the woman's pockets that identified her by name, so, as was customary at the time, they
took her body to the Paris mortuary. There she was put on display in the window that hopes that someone passing by would recognize and put a name to her serene face. The woman's family never did come by and identify her, but her enigmatic expression turned the heads of everyone who walked past morbid, Crowds gathered in the street to get a look at her eerily calm smile, and the Unknown Woman of the Sin, as she became known,
was a local celebrity. The pathologist who worked at the mortuary was so taken by her mysterious beauty that he made a cast of her face, and before long it was being used to create plaster replicas that were sold in souvenir shops all across Europe. Over the next few decades, the Unknown Woman became the subject of poems, paintings and novels, all of which tried to fill in the blanks of who she was and what had led to her drowning. The most popular legend was that she had thrown herself
into the river due to a broken heart. One novelist imagined her as an innocent country girl who was seduced by a rich Parisian man. Meanwhile, another portrayed her as an evil force whose death mask draws the narrator into an all consuming obsession. But even as the Unknown Woman of the Sin became the most famous face in Europe, the actual woman at the heart of the myth remained unidentified.
As the decades passed, and her fame gradually faded. The unknown woman might have been lost to history if a Norwegian toy manufacturer hadn't given her a second life. In the nineteen fifties, a toy maker named Asmund Laerdahl got an unusual request for a custom project. A physician wanted him to develop a doll to help doctors practice a new life saving technique called cardiopulmonary resuscitation, better known as CPR.
The doll had to be life sized and functional, with open lips that could be used to practice mouth to mouth resuscitation, and a realistic face to make the training exercise more emotionally impactful and thus more memorable. And Lerdau was the perfect man for the job. He sculpted the Mannikin's body out of soft plastic and metal springs, and when it was time to design the face, an old image stirred in his memory, a plaster bust that hung
on the wall of his wife's parents' house. It was a peaceful visage of the unknown woman of the sin. The CPR doll, known as Resussi Anni, debuted in nineteen sixty and over the coming decades, hundreds of thousands of people across the globe learned cpr on versions of her, earning the Woman of the Sin a reputation as the
most kissed face in the world. Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart remains one of history's most celebrated composers, a prodigy whose melodies have echoed through concert halls for more than two centuries. At the astonishing age of just five years old, he was able to compose short pieces and perform for European royalty. By his teenage years, he had produced works that would
make seasoned masters jealous. Yet behind this musical brilliance lay a man of idiosyncratic habits, whose strange appetites and offbeat humor revealed a personality as colorful as his scores. One of the most charming anecdotes concerns Mozart's pet, Starling, a
bird presented to him in seventeen eighty four. Enamored with the feathered visitor, Mozart transcribed the lilting tune that the bird sang into his notebook, a motif that mirrors a passage from his own piano concerto number seventeen in G major. When the song died three years later, Mozart staged a miniature funeral, complete with a tiny coffin and mournful procession to honor his small companion. His sense of humor was equally distinctive, although far less refined than one might expect
from a classical maestro. Scatological jokes pepper his private correspondence The Verses, brimming with body wordplay that would shock modern readers. Historians debate whether these jokes merely reflect the culture of eighteenth century Vienna or served as a deliberate, playful rebellion against social conventions. Occasionally, the levity seeped into his music, too, where he set riskaye German lyrics to familiar tunes as
inside jokes for close friends knots. All of Mozart's experiences were so lighthearted, though at eleven he contracted smallpox, a disease that claimed countless lives in the eighteenth century. The illness temporarily blinded him and forced his family to flee Vienna to escape the epidemic. Such a severe setback could have ended his career before it truly began, and yet Mozart recovered and continued to compose works of astonishing depth
and variety. But the most haunting chapter of Mozart's biography revolves around his Requiem in D Minor, the work that he never lived to finish. In the autumn of seventeen ninety one, a mysterious patron approached a trusted intermediary, France van Walseg, with a commission for a solemn mass for the dead Valsig, a wealthy amateur composer, desired the piece to appear as his own tribute to his late wife, a secret that he guarded jealously. Mozart accepted the commission
unaware of his client's true identity. He was already ailing persistent fever. Exhaustion and a lingering respiratory infection weighed heavily on him, and yet the promise of a substantial fee and the artistic challenge of a liturgical masterpiece spurred him onward. He began sketching the Introitis in early November, his pen moving swiftly, as if racing against an invisible clock, and
in a sense he was. As the days passed by, Mozart's health deteriorated, he worked feverishly, often through the night, dictating sections to his devoted copyist, Joseph Elesser, and confiding in his wife Constanza, who assisted with copying and proofreading. Although the days were prolific, his body could no longer sustain the effort. Legend holds that on the evening of December fourth of seventeen ninety one, Mozart, barely able to lift his head, whispered the opening bars of the Lachrymosa,
the final movement, which would remain forever finished. He died two days later on December fifth, leaving the Requiem a half rendered tapestry of soaring vocal lines and trembling orchestration. This manuscript, scattered across several pages, bears his unmistakable handwriting, interspersed with frantic corrections and marginal notes. After his death, his student, Franz Javert Sussmyer, was tasked with completing the work.
Using Mozart's sketches and verbal instructions. Sousmir finished the Lachrymosa, added the remaining movements, and orchestrated the entire piece, striving to honor his master's voice while filling in the inevitable gaps. And thus the Requiem stands as a dual monument, on one hand, a testament to Mozart's unrivaled capacity to convey grief, awe and transcendence, and on the other, a poignant reminder
of a life cut short. His final masterpiece forever tinged with mystery listeners still hear in its somber chords, the echo of a composer confronting his own mortality, a fitting if tragic coda to a career that reshaped Western music. In the end, Mozart's life, marked by laughter and sickness, creative brilliance, and bizarre episodes, serves as a testament to the multifaceted nature of human genius. These strange vignettes do
not diminish his achievements. Rather, they add depth to the story of a man whose music continues to captivate the world. I hope you enjoyed today's guided tour through the Cabinet of Curiosities. This show was created by me Aaron Mankey in partnership with iHeart Podcasts, researched and written by the Grim and Mild team, and produced by Jesse Funk. Learn more about the show and the people who make it
over at Grimandmild dot com slash Curiosities. You'll also find a link to the official Cabinet of Curiosity's hardcover book available in bookstores and online, as well as ebook and audiobook. And if you're looking for an ad free option, consider joining our Patreon. It's all the same stories, but without the interruption for a small monthly fee. Learn more and sign up over at patreon dot com. Slash Grimandmild, and until next time, stay curious. H