Knights vs. Snail in Medieval England

A whimsical curiosity from the British Library's medieval manuscripts blog (the librarians post some fascinating stuff -- the rest of the blog is definitely worth a peek too):

http://britishlibrary.typepad.co.uk/digitisedmanuscripts/2013/09/knight-v-snail.html

The motif of knights fighting giant snails is apparently quite common in medieval illuminated manuscripts, though nobody knows why, or what it was supposed to have signified. (There's even snail jousting! And monkeys!) Was it all just marginalia? Bored monks -- who were only human, after all -- having a bit of fun with their transcription? Did snails moonlight as agents of Satan when not making nuisances of themselves in the monastery vegetable patches? Even among the eminent scholars at the British Library, nobody knows.

While the world of medieval archivists puzzles over this mystery, the rest of us get some Easter eggs in our manuscripts. Happy Monday, everyone!

The Renaissance Faire!

Last weekend, some friends and I went to the Renaissance Faire!

I've been to a few Faires over the years, both in California and here in New York. They're great fun -- cheesy as all hell, and you'll certainly be disappointed if you're a hard-core re-enactor or history buff who expects most everything to be historically accurate (that got me the first time, but I've learned to ignore it). There're all sorts of things to see -- human chess, birds of prey, dancing, acrobats, and even jousting.

Here I am at the archery range. The target is rather low to the ground. Full disclosure: the bow I'm using has a draw weight of only twenty pounds or so, and the fletching on the arrow is rather bent out of shape (not to mention that the entire kit is made of plastic!). I did ask for the heaviest bow they had on loan. (photo by Irina)

Here I am being kidnapped (and my bag being ransacked) by pirates! We are all too amused to look properly frightened/menacing. (photo by Irina)

And here is the castle and tourney field (click to enlarge). You can see the lions of England hanging from the castle walls, and the unicorn of Scotland above the stable doors. There was also a knight from France, and one from the Holy Roman Empire, though you can't see their heraldry in this shot. (photo by Deb and Terence)

I'm already looking forward to next year's Faire! Can't wait to break out the corset and skirts again. :-P

What Would You Do with a Time Machine?

I've been asked the above question quite a few times (I think it happens to history majors fairly frequently), and my answer tends to vary depending on the classes I happen(ed) to be taking, the books in my bag, the day of the week, &c. By now, I do have a list of responses that I cycle through and explain in depth at parties (which, for me, are of the variety that includes social dancing, board games, home cooking, or karaoke).

This is an answer I've given before, because I think it's one of the great tragedies of the classical world:

I imagine the "Dark Ages" would have turned out quite differently had the libraries of Egypt, Rome, and all the other great ancient cities not burned. So much knowledge -- especially in the sciences -- was lost, setting human progress in the West back several centuries. If I had a time machine... I would definitely go back to save the second volume of Aristotle's Poetics, and Aristarchus's text on astronomy, and Ovid's Medea, and Euripides's lost plays...

In short, I would be both the best and worst Doctor's Companion ever.

NYTimes: Richard III, Lost and Found

In recent news -- making both archaeological and regular news headlines around the world -- the bones of Richard III were discovered under a parking lot in Leicester:

http://www.nytimes.com/2013/02/05/world/europe/richard-the-third-bones.html?hp

I'm inclined to be more sympathetic towards Richard III than literature portrays him (Shakespeare's play was an instrument of the Tudor smear campaign against the Plantagenets). He probably suffered from "younger sibling syndrome," as did many "spare heirs" of monarchs in the Middle Ages -- see Scar vs. Mufasa in The Lion King (and play "spot the Shakespeare references"). This was also probably exacerbated by his uninspiring physical appearance -- see Tyrion Lannister in George R. R. Martin's A Song of Ice and Fire series. (Especially in those days, physical birth defects were seen as portents of ill fortune.) Richard came by the throne in a slightly roundabout way that involved some unsavory tactics; certainly, he can't have been completely innocent in the Princes in the Tower episode. But he was by and large a competent administrator who contributed significantly to the nascent English legal system and, notably, lifted most public and private censorship of written work -- not a move to be taken lightly, especially given the political turmoil surrounding his ascension and reign. He was ruthless, to be sure, sometimes excessively so, but his were much more violent times. (Nasty, brutish, and short would be about right.) Richard III was not, among his peers, particularly remarkable in his ruthlessness -- which the Tudors, Shakespeare, and partisan historians conveniently forget.

Anyhow. I imagine it must have been a fascinating experience for the modern-day descendants of Richard III, a few of whom contributed some DNA to the project.

NYTimes: Medieval Chess Sets at the Cloister

These look really awesome:
http://www.nytimes.com/2011/11/18/arts/design/the-game-of-kings-medieval-ivory-chessmen-from-the-isle-of-lewis-at-the-cloisters.html?_r=1&src=dayp

I'm in New York for another week or so. Anyone want to go see them with me?

Edit: I didn't actually end up going (I'm coming home for spring break, though!), but I was reading the exhibit blog, which is fascinating.
http://metmuseum.org/exhibitions/listings/2011/the-game-of-kings-medieval-ivory-chessmen-from-the-isle-of-lewis/exhibition-blog

Beauty and Madness

 I've been reading some William Morris for a literature class on medievalism (both medieval literature and Victorian medievalism). This line, in particular, struck me:

 I was half mad with beauty on that day...

~ William Morris, "The Defence of Guenevere"

I've noticed that beautiful people, and people who create beautiful things, are often a little mad. (By "beautiful people," I mean people who have beautiful souls or minds, not attractive exteriors.) There's a sort of fragile beauty, the sort where you can hear the madness vibrating under the surface, like an impossibly light glass orb that might shatter if you touch it. It's the wildness of it, the thrill of unpredictability. It's the beauty of the endangered predator, the tiger that doesn't know it's one of the last of its kind, that can still kill you where you stand.

Madness itself can be beautiful, in its own way (hence the Gothic novel). There's a certain purity to madness, in that everything that affects a lunatic ultimately comes from within her own head (much of it is exhibited as response to stimuli, but the response is atypical -- i.e. not socially dictated). The greater part of the significance that literature assigns to madness is the uniqueness of its perspective.

Western culture idealizes individualism to an extent unmatched in other societies -- and that applies to Western intellectual culture as well. I think of it, sometimes, as the "genius in a box" phenomenon. People are attracted to the image of great ideas springing fully formed from the aether, like Athena from Zeus's head. They like thinking that geniuses are born, not made, and that they achieve their success purely through their own inscrutable methods. Of course, this construct doesn't quite reflect reality; as Newton once said, "If I have seen a little further it is by standing on the shoulders of giants." (His expression of the sentiment is the most famous, but not the first; the earliest known attribution is to Bernard of Chartres.) I actually just read, for a history of science class, an interesting book by Peter Galison entitled Einstein's Clocks, Poincaré's Maps, which argues (perhaps a tad overzealously) that Einstein, the quintessential representation of genius in modern Western culture, was inspired in the formation of his theories of relativity by the mathematician Henri Poincaré. One can't be a pioneer in one's field without having a good grasp of the work that preceded one's own. Genius is hardly ever as isolated as the romantic ideal would have it.

The thing is, genius is isolating only insofar as society renders it so. There were plenty of intellectuals throughout history who, in addition to being brilliant, were also scintillating conversationalists, consummate socialites and courtiers, and infamous Lotharios -- Renaissance men, as it were. It's terribly unfortunate that in the modern day, intelligence is seen as a social liability (that's probably a reflection on the state of American society, but we'll not go there tonight). But it's that isolation that makes it seem mysterious, unattainable -- and therefore beautiful.

A bit of a digression, I suppose. Perhaps not quite what Morris was going for, but that's how I read it.

Geoffrey Chaucer Hath a Blog

One of my English professors held a Middle English workshop last week, and showed us this:
http://houseoffame.blogspot.com/

It's brilliant and hilarious in a really nerdy, English-major-y way. (Chaucer himself was quite funny, and the blog does him justice.) I've been reading it a bit obsessively the past week. Go have a gander -- I promise you'll laugh. (If you have trouble with the Middle English, there are some translation resources in the sidebar.)

BBC: Ten Strange Ways Tudors Died

Not so much royal Tudors, but Englishmen and women who lived (and died) during the Tudor dynasty:

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/magazine-13762313

Lifespans were significantly shorter back then (the most common culprit being disease, and probably childbirth) but these are some more interesting, historically accurate ways to go. For a fair number of them, I would say they brought it upon themselves. Can you imagine what their families might have had inscribed on their tombstones?

NYTimes: Europe's Plagues Came from China

A very interesting article (from a while back) on the Black Plague in medieval Europe:

http://www.nytimes.com/2010/11/01/health/01plague.html?_r=1&ref=global-home

There have been, for quite a while, theories that the plague originated the East, but I don't think there have been any definitive or substantial studies conducted until this one. Given the relative urbanization along the coast of China in those days, at least compared with Dark Ages Europe, it makes a lot of sense. Cities, then and now, are breeding grounds for disease. And other, good things, too, of course, but plague was perhaps the most transformative.

Phiala's String Page

For all the computer scientists of my acquaintance, this has nothing to do with the sort of strings you guys know. This is a great page on medieval fiber arts:

http://www.stringpage.com

I've done a bit of tablet weaving, and quite a bit of braiding, and have ambitions to try some of the other types of weaving, &c. on the page. I also knit, but that's almost out of period, having originated in its recognizable form around the Renaissance, I believe.

BBC: Choir to Sing the 'Code of Life'

This is a pretty awesome project; they're turning people's gene sequences into a song!

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/science_and_environment/10581179.stm

I'd love to be part of that choir. (Hey, pick me! I can sing!)

Interestingly enough, if you listen to the clip in the article, it sounds a bit like medieval church music.

NYTimes: Jousting, the Newest (or Oldest) Extreme Sport

Jousting was the extreme sport of the Middle Ages. There weren't really many of today's popular sports (such as most of the ones involving balls of some sort) -- the more popular athletic pursuits included the hunting- and war-based ones, such as horse-racing, fencing, archery, and hawking; racquet-based ones, like tennis; and other horse-based pursuits, like polo. Entire towns gathered to watch jousts, much as in previous eras, entire towns turned out to watch gladiatorial shows. Successful jousters could go on to win riches (horses, armor, gold), fame (much like today's sports celebrities), and royal recognition for their prowess.

I have seen a few jousts, and they are always fun (if nerve-wracking) to watch. Here is a journalistic take on the sport:

http://www.nytimes.com/2010/07/11/magazine/11Jousting-t.html?hpw

I am glad to see today's men (and women) take up the lance. It is a dangerous sport, to be sure, but a noble one, quite literally.

I'd also love to try jousting sometime. I'm on the small side, to be sure; most women are, but I'd be one of the smaller women to make the attempt, as usually only tall/heavy enough women would take up the lance, perhaps out of a certain self-preservation instinct that I don't seem to have. Good idea/bad idea/thoughts?

Silent Monks Singing Halleluia

I'm a fan of Church music, but even if you aren't, this is absolutely hysterical. The kids who came up with it are brilliant. (I suggest full-screen viewing.)

Medieval and Renaissance Musical Instruments

http://www.music.iastate.edu/antiqua/instrumt.html

It's actually really complete, and really accurate -- and they have recordings!

There are some really interesting (and interesting-sounding) ones, like the dulcimer and the lizard. My favorite, though, is the hurdy gurdy. It's the string equivalent of a bagpipe, and it sounds via hand crank, and it's called a hurdy gurdy. I want one.