testing hugo.io as static sites generator

.gitignore

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+.hugo_build.lock
+/resources/_gen
+public

.gitmodules

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+[submodule "themes/ananke"]
+	path = themes/ananke
+	url = https://github.com/theNewDynamic/gohugo-theme-ananke.git

README.md

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 # dcorto.github.io
+
+Testing hugo.io with github pages and actions

archetypes/default.md

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++++
+date = '{{ .Date }}'
+draft = true
+title = '{{ replace .File.ContentBaseName "-" " " | title }}'
++++

content/en/_index.md

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+---
+title: "Ananke: a Hugo Theme"
+
+description: "The last theme you'll ever need. Maybe."
+# 1. To ensure Netlify triggers a build on our exampleSite instance, we need to change a file in the exampleSite directory.
+theme_version: '2.8.2'
+cascade:
+  featured_image: '/images/gohugo-default-sample-hero-image.jpg'
+---
+Welcome to my blog with some of my work in progress. I've been working on this book idea. You can read some of the chapters below.

content/en/about/index.md

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+---
+title: "About"
+description: "A few years ago, while visiting or, rather, rummaging about Notre-Dame, the author of this book found, in an obscure nook of one of the towers, the following word, engraved by hand upon the wall: —ANANKE."
+featured_image: '/images/Victor_Hugo-Hunchback.jpg'
+menu:
+  main:
+    weight: 1
+---
+{{< figure src="/images/Victor_Hugo-Hunchback.jpg" title="Illustration from Victor Hugo et son temps (1881)" >}}
+
+_The Hunchback of Notre-Dame_ (French: _Notre-Dame de Paris_) is a French Romantic/Gothic novel by Victor Hugo, published in 1831. The original French title refers to Notre Dame Cathedral, on which the story is centered. English translator Frederic Shoberl named the novel The Hunchback of Notre Dame in 1833 because at the time, Gothic novels were more popular than Romance novels in England. The story is set in Paris, France in the Late Middle Ages, during the reign of Louis XI.

content/en/contact.md

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+---
+title: Contact
+featured_image: ''
+omit_header_text: true
+description: We'd love to hear from you
+type: page
+menu: main
+
+---
+
+
+This is an example of a custom shortcode that you can put right into your content. You will need to add a form action to the shortcode to make it work. Check out [Formspree](https://formspree.io/) for a simple, free form service. 
+
+{{< form-contact action="https://example.com"  >}}

content/en/post/_index.md

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+---
+title: "Articles"
+date: 2017-03-02T12:00:00-05:00
+---
+Articles are paginated with only three posts here for example. You can set the number of entries to show on this page with the "pagination" setting in the config file.

content/en/post/chapter-1.md

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+---
+date: 2017-04-09T10:58:08-04:00
+description: "The Grand Hall"
+featured_image: "/images/Pope-Edouard-de-Beaumont-1844.jpg"
+tags: ["scene"]
+title: "Chapter I: The Grand Hall"
+---
+
+Three hundred and forty-eight years, six months, and nineteen days ago
+to-day, the Parisians awoke to the sound of all the bells in the triple
+circuit of the city, the university, and the town ringing a full peal.
+
+The sixth of January, 1482, is not, however, a day of which history has
+preserved the memory. There was nothing notable in the event which thus
+set the bells and the bourgeois of Paris in a ferment from early morning.
+It was neither an assault by the Picards nor the Burgundians, nor a hunt
+led along in procession, nor a revolt of scholars in the town of Laas, nor
+an entry of “our much dread lord, monsieur the king,” nor even a pretty
+hanging of male and female thieves by the courts of Paris. Neither was it
+the arrival, so frequent in the fifteenth century, of some plumed and
+bedizened embassy. It was barely two days since the last cavalcade of that
+nature, that of the Flemish ambassadors charged with concluding the
+marriage between the dauphin and Marguerite of Flanders, had made its
+entry into Paris, to the great annoyance of M. le Cardinal de Bourbon,
+who, for the sake of pleasing the king, had been obliged to assume an
+amiable mien towards this whole rustic rabble of Flemish burgomasters, and
+to regale them at his Hôtel de Bourbon, with a very “pretty morality,
+allegorical satire, and farce,” while a driving rain drenched the
+magnificent tapestries at his door.
+
+What put the “whole population of Paris in commotion,” as Jehan de Troyes
+expresses it, on the sixth of January, was the double solemnity, united
+from time immemorial, of the Epiphany and the Feast of Fools.
+
+On that day, there was to be a bonfire on the Place de Grève, a maypole at
+the Chapelle de Braque, and a mystery at the Palais de Justice. It had
+been cried, to the sound of the trumpet, the preceding evening at all the
+cross roads, by the provost’s men, clad in handsome, short, sleeveless
+coats of violet camelot, with large white crosses upon their breasts.
+
+So the crowd of citizens, male and female, having closed their houses and
+shops, thronged from every direction, at early morn, towards some one of
+the three spots designated.
+
+Each had made his choice; one, the bonfire; another, the maypole; another,
+the mystery play. It must be stated, in honor of the good sense of the
+loungers of Paris, that the greater part of this crowd directed their
+steps towards the bonfire, which was quite in season, or towards the
+mystery play, which was to be presented in the grand hall of the Palais de
+Justice (the courts of law), which was well roofed and walled; and that
+the curious left the poor, scantily flowered maypole to shiver all alone
+beneath the sky of January, in the cemetery of the Chapel of Braque.
+
+The populace thronged the avenues of the law courts in particular, because
+they knew that the Flemish ambassadors, who had arrived two days
+previously, intended to be present at the representation of the mystery,
+and at the election of the Pope of the Fools, which was also to take place
+in the grand hall.
+
+It was no easy matter on that day, to force one’s way into that grand
+hall, although it was then reputed to be the largest covered enclosure in
+the world (it is true that Sauval had not yet measured the grand hall of
+the Château of Montargis). The palace place, encumbered with people,
+offered to the curious gazers at the windows the aspect of a sea; into
+which five or six streets, like so many mouths of rivers, discharged every
+moment fresh floods of heads. The waves of this crowd, augmented
+incessantly, dashed against the angles of the houses which projected here
+and there, like so many promontories, into the irregular basin of the
+place. In the centre of the lofty Gothic* façade of the palace, the grand
+staircase, incessantly ascended and descended by a double current, which,
+after parting on the intermediate landing-place, flowed in broad waves
+along its lateral slopes,—the grand staircase, I say, trickled
+incessantly into the place, like a cascade into a lake. The cries, the
+laughter, the trampling of those thousands of feet, produced a great noise
+and a great clamor. From time to time, this noise and clamor redoubled;
+the current which drove the crowd towards the grand staircase flowed
+backwards, became troubled, formed whirlpools. This was produced by the
+buffet of an archer, or the horse of one of the provost’s sergeants, which
+kicked to restore order; an admirable tradition which the provostship has
+bequeathed to the constablery, the constablery to the _maréchaussée_,
+the _maréchaussée_ to our _gendarmeri_ of Paris.

content/en/post/chapter-2.md

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+---
+date: 2017-04-10T11:00:59-04:00
+description: "Pierre Gringoire"
+featured_image: ""
+tags: []
+title: "Chapter II: Pierre Gringoire"
+---
+
+Nevertheless, as be harangued them, the satisfaction and admiration
+unanimously excited by his costume were dissipated by his words; and when
+he reached that untoward conclusion: “As soon as his illustrious eminence,
+the cardinal, arrives, we will begin,” his voice was drowned in a thunder
+of hooting.
+
+“Begin instantly! The mystery! the mystery immediately!” shrieked the
+people. And above all the voices, that of Johannes de Molendino was
+audible, piercing the uproar like the fife’s derisive serenade: “Commence
+instantly!” yelped the scholar.
+
+“Down with Jupiter and the Cardinal de Bourbon!” vociferated Robin
+Poussepain and the other clerks perched in the window.
+
+“The morality this very instant!” repeated the crowd; “this very instant!
+the sack and the rope for the comedians, and the cardinal!”
+
+Poor Jupiter, haggard, frightened, pale beneath his rouge, dropped his
+thunderbolt, took his cap in his hand; then he bowed and trembled and
+stammered: “His eminence—the ambassadors—Madame Marguerite of
+Flanders—.” He did not know what to say. In truth, he was afraid of
+being hung.
+
+Hung by the populace for waiting, hung by the cardinal for not having
+waited, he saw between the two dilemmas only an abyss; that is to say, a
+gallows.
+
+Luckily, some one came to rescue him from his embarrassment, and assume
+the responsibility.
+
+An individual who was standing beyond the railing, in the free space
+around the marble table, and whom no one had yet caught sight of, since
+his long, thin body was completely sheltered from every visual ray by the
+diameter of the pillar against which he was leaning; this individual, we
+say, tall, gaunt, pallid, blond, still young, although already wrinkled
+about the brow and cheeks, with brilliant eyes and a smiling mouth, clad
+in garments of black serge, worn and shining with age, approached the
+marble table, and made a sign to the poor sufferer. But the other was so
+confused that he did not see him. The new comer advanced another step.
+
+“Jupiter,” said he, “my dear Jupiter!”
+
+The other did not hear.
+
+At last, the tall blond, driven out of patience, shrieked almost in his
+face,—
+
+“Michel Giborne!”
+
+“Who calls me?” said Jupiter, as though awakened with a start.
+
+“I,” replied the person clad in black.
+
+“Ah!” said Jupiter.
+
+“Begin at once,” went on the other. “Satisfy the populace; I undertake to
+appease the bailiff, who will appease monsieur the cardinal.”
+
+Jupiter breathed once more.
+
+“Messeigneurs the bourgeois,” he cried, at the top of his lungs to the
+crowd, which continued to hoot him, “we are going to begin at once.”
+
+“_Evoe Jupiter! Plaudite cives_! All hail, Jupiter! Applaud,
+citizens!” shouted the scholars.
+
+“Noel! Noel! good, good,” shouted the people.
+
+The hand clapping was deafening, and Jupiter had already withdrawn under
+his tapestry, while the hall still trembled with acclamations.
+
+In the meanwhile, the personage who had so magically turned the tempest
+into dead calm, as our old and dear Corneille puts it, had modestly
+retreated to the half-shadow of his pillar, and would, no doubt, have
+remained invisible there, motionless, and mute as before, had he not been
+plucked by the sleeve by two young women, who, standing in the front row
+of the spectators, had noticed his colloquy with Michel Giborne-Jupiter.
+
+“Master,” said one of them, making him a sign to approach. “Hold your
+tongue, my dear Liénarde,” said her neighbor, pretty, fresh, and very
+brave, in consequence of being dressed up in her best attire. “He is not a
+clerk, he is a layman; you must not say master to him, but messire.”

content/en/post/chapter-3.md

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+---
+date: 2017-04-11T11:13:32-04:00
+description: "Monsieur the Cardinal"
+featured_image: ""
+tags: []
+title: "Chapter III: Monsieur the Cardinal"
+---
+
+Poor Gringoire! the din of all the great double petards of the Saint-Jean,
+the discharge of twenty arquebuses on supports, the detonation of that
+famous serpentine of the Tower of Billy, which, during the siege of Paris,
+on Sunday, the twenty-sixth of September, 1465, killed seven Burgundians
+at one blow, the explosion of all the powder stored at the gate of the
+Temple, would have rent his ears less rudely at that solemn and dramatic
+moment, than these few words, which fell from the lips of the usher, “His
+eminence, Monseigneur the Cardinal de Bourbon.”
+
+It is not that Pierre Gringoire either feared or disdained monsieur the
+cardinal. He had neither the weakness nor the audacity for that. A true
+eclectic, as it would be expressed nowadays, Gringoire was one of those
+firm and lofty, moderate and calm spirits, which always know how to bear
+themselves amid all circumstances (_stare in dimidio rerum_), and who
+are full of reason and of liberal philosophy, while still setting store by
+cardinals. A rare, precious, and never interrupted race of philosophers to
+whom wisdom, like another Ariadne, seems to have given a clew of thread
+which they have been walking along unwinding since the beginning of the
+world, through the labyrinth of human affairs. One finds them in all ages,
+ever the same; that is to say, always according to all times. And, without
+reckoning our Pierre Gringoire, who may represent them in the fifteenth
+century if we succeed in bestowing upon him the distinction which he
+deserves, it certainly was their spirit which animated Father du Breul,
+when he wrote, in the sixteenth, these naively sublime words, worthy of
+all centuries: “I am a Parisian by nation, and a Parrhisian in language,
+for _parrhisia_ in Greek signifies liberty of speech; of which I have
+made use even towards messeigneurs the cardinals, uncle and brother to
+Monsieur the Prince de Conty, always with respect to their greatness, and
+without offending any one of their suite, which is much to say.”
+
+There was then neither hatred for the cardinal, nor disdain for his
+presence, in the disagreeable impression produced upon Pierre Gringoire.
+Quite the contrary; our poet had too much good sense and too threadbare a
+coat, not to attach particular importance to having the numerous allusions
+in his prologue, and, in particular, the glorification of the dauphin, son
+of the Lion of France, fall upon the most eminent ear. But it is not
+interest which predominates in the noble nature of poets. I suppose that
+the entity of the poet may be represented by the number ten; it is certain
+that a chemist on analyzing and pharmacopolizing it, as Rabelais says,
+would find it composed of one part interest to nine parts of self-esteem.
+
+Now, at the moment when the door had opened to admit the cardinal, the
+nine parts of self-esteem in Gringoire, swollen and expanded by the breath
+of popular admiration, were in a state of prodigious augmentation, beneath
+which disappeared, as though stifled, that imperceptible molecule of which
+we have just remarked upon in the constitution of poets; a precious
+ingredient, by the way, a ballast of reality and humanity, without which
+they would not touch the earth. Gringoire enjoyed seeing, feeling,
+fingering, so to speak an entire assembly (of knaves, it is true, but what
+matters that?) stupefied, petrified, and as though asphyxiated in the
+presence of the incommensurable tirades which welled up every instant from
+all parts of his bridal song. I affirm that he shared the general
+beatitude, and that, quite the reverse of La Fontaine, who, at the
+presentation of his comedy of the “Florentine,” asked, “Who is the
+ill-bred lout who made that rhapsody?” Gringoire would gladly have
+inquired of his neighbor, “Whose masterpiece is this?”
+
+The reader can now judge of the effect produced upon him by the abrupt and
+unseasonable arrival of the cardinal.
+
+That which he had to fear was only too fully realized. The entrance of his
+eminence upset the audience. All heads turned towards the gallery. It was
+no longer possible to hear one’s self. “The cardinal! The cardinal!”
+repeated all mouths. The unhappy prologue stopped short for the second
+time.
+
+The cardinal halted for a moment on the threshold of the estrade. While he
+was sending a rather indifferent glance around the audience, the tumult
+redoubled. Each person wished to get a better view of him. Each man vied
+with the other in thrusting his head over his neighbor’s shoulder.
+
+He was, in fact, an exalted personage, the sight of whom was well worth
+any other comedy. Charles, Cardinal de Bourbon, Archbishop and Comte of
+Lyon, Primate of the Gauls, was allied both to Louis XI., through his
+brother, Pierre, Seigneur de Beaujeu, who had married the king’s eldest
+daughter, and to Charles the Bold through his mother, Agnes of Burgundy.
+Now, the dominating trait, the peculiar and distinctive trait of the
+character of the Primate of the Gauls, was the spirit of the courtier, and
+devotion to the powers that be. The reader can form an idea of the
+numberless embarrassments which this double relationship had caused him,
+and of all the temporal reefs among which his spiritual bark had been
+forced to tack, in order not to suffer shipwreck on either Louis or
+Charles, that Scylla and that Charybdis which had devoured the Duc de
+Nemours and the Constable de Saint-Pol. Thanks to Heaven’s mercy, he had
+made the voyage successfully, and had reached home without hindrance. But
+although he was in port, and precisely because he was in port, he never
+recalled without disquiet the varied haps of his political career, so long
+uneasy and laborious. Thus, he was in the habit of saying that the year
+1476 had been “white and black” for him—meaning thereby, that in the
+course of that year he had lost his mother, the Duchesse de la
+Bourbonnais, and his cousin, the Duke of Burgundy, and that one grief had
+consoled him for the other.