tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-40252950420078009992024-03-05T22:33:22.845-08:00Historical Fiction ResearchAdventures, misadventures and serendipity in doing the research that underlies a historical novelTinney Heathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18383946402836289511noreply@blogger.comBlogger163125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4025295042007800999.post-90227202528609784422020-03-07T12:21:00.001-08:002024-01-30T16:35:05.511-08:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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PLEASE NOTE: This blog is currently inactive. It may not stay that way forever, and there's still plenty of good stuff to read here, but for the moment, most of the activity is happening elsewhere.<br />
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Specifically, on my Facebook <a href="https://www.facebook.com/tinneyheathauthor/" target="_blank">author page</a>, or sign up for my newsletter on my <a href="https://www.tinneyheath.com/" target="_blank">website</a>. Most of the sorts of things I used to post here will now be in that newsletter, which will come to you either once or twice a month, with a variety of news, ramblings on medieval and/or writerly topics, and whatever else pops into my mind. <i><br /></i>
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<br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiyAnXhBC5OQ7AUygGNQohLpVjkkXyME9RkUYeu4kXJ7dI59IDSeJj75z4zpv7ovM4OFsLSeaw87ti7yijUGqPq1hpQXh2NSx6dggJd5312rV18oA8k-Bt-zehezlmlZPDbiCUg7vtpDAoPfYPFNlkIgOSAHvrYsrdbRbq6tZcTy1gMd07Fqh09nNpJ-Q=s484" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="484" data-original-width="323" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiyAnXhBC5OQ7AUygGNQohLpVjkkXyME9RkUYeu4kXJ7dI59IDSeJj75z4zpv7ovM4OFsLSeaw87ti7yijUGqPq1hpQXh2NSx6dggJd5312rV18oA8k-Bt-zehezlmlZPDbiCUg7vtpDAoPfYPFNlkIgOSAHvrYsrdbRbq6tZcTy1gMd07Fqh09nNpJ-Q=s320" width="214" /></a></div><br /><p>
<br />You can also find me (and my books) on <a href="https://www.bookbub.com/profile/tinney-sue-heath">BookBub</a> and on <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5886422.Tinney_Sue_Heath">Goodreads</a>, and I have an <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Tinney-Sue-Heath/e/B009QZPKXC/ref=dp_byline_cont_ebooks_1" target="_blank">Amazon author page</a>.<br /><i> </i> </p><p>Since this blog went on hiatus, I published my second novel, <i>Lady of the Seven Suns: A Novel of the Woman Saint Francis Called Brother</i>, and I republished my debut novel, <i>A Thing Done</i>, with a new cover. If you are interested in finding either of those books, my website and my Facebook author page both include buy links to various online retailers for ebooks and paperbacks, and you can also order the paperbacks from your local bookstore.</p><p> <br />
Here are the paperback covers (many thanks to Jennifer Quinlan of Historical Fiction Book Covers for these, which I really love!). Happy reading!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE5yB25jDOtwyqg28NQf2ypWvGJrly62KvJjGx1kHqq1MiRiMCzxxhjy5LDYThwqVmcpJYz1MOOyUD5DI_b2sXkf5DoeczeRZvxl25l6KDg4912ZxlIyMwQjG483DOPMt7l4LYrKr7e9-f/s1600/Lady+of+the+Seven+Suns+Print+Mockup.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="926" data-original-width="1315" height="281" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE5yB25jDOtwyqg28NQf2ypWvGJrly62KvJjGx1kHqq1MiRiMCzxxhjy5LDYThwqVmcpJYz1MOOyUD5DI_b2sXkf5DoeczeRZvxl25l6KDg4912ZxlIyMwQjG483DOPMt7l4LYrKr7e9-f/s400/Lady+of+the+Seven+Suns+Print+Mockup.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<b style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">A powerful noblewoman or a humble follower of the holy man from Assisi? All the rules say Giacoma cannot be both.<br /><br />But rules are made to be broken.<br /><br />Rome, 1210.</b><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-size: 14px;"> After tragedy shatters Giacoma’s world, Francesco intervenes to save her sanity, her life, and her soul. She owes him everything. Her gratitude is boundless – but now she must thread her way between duty and faith, always striving to be worthy of Francesco’s affectionate name for her: “Brother Giacoma.”</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" /><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-size: 14px;">No longer locked into the power struggle among Rome’s noble families, still she cannot turn her back on her sons, her household, and Rome’s poorest citizens who depend on her charity. As a woman she is not free to share the brothers’ life of sacred poverty, begging for her daily bread. Nor is she destined for Clare’s cloister. A new path, as yet unexplored and unsignposted, lies ahead for Giacoma dei Settesoli. If she finds it, will she be brave enough to follow it?</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" /><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-size: 14px;">Based on a true story, this is an absorbing historical novel of one woman’s stubborn quest for grace. If you like strong women in the past who insist on making their own way in a patriarchal society, you’ll love </span><i style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">Lady of the Seven Suns.</i><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" /><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-size: 14px;">”To read </span><i style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">Lady</i><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-size: 14px;"> is to savor that rarest of reading pleasures: you will live another person’s life to the full, vicarious time travel at its empathetic best.” Judith Starkston, </span><i style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">Fantasy and Magic in the Bronze Age</i><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQjTtLxOxXmbTv-kzWnobhMF_hKaLrr1gyvm1nt8PzWN5xg8JdFnNV35YK7n9ERgz__mFEzt6lLjywBW-FdLcvHGGWvgYJGWTuK0bHkJady8GMCLfn1Oog0HFDkn9-thyphenhyphenSwvVPGgKm_VIu/s1600/A+Thing+Done+KDP+Layout.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="926" data-original-width="1295" height="285" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQjTtLxOxXmbTv-kzWnobhMF_hKaLrr1gyvm1nt8PzWN5xg8JdFnNV35YK7n9ERgz__mFEzt6lLjywBW-FdLcvHGGWvgYJGWTuK0bHkJady8GMCLfn1Oog0HFDkn9-thyphenhyphenSwvVPGgKm_VIu/s400/A+Thing+Done+KDP+Layout.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<b style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">Juggling is easy – until you’re juggling two sides of a lethal vendetta.</b><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" /><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-size: 14px;">Florence, 1216: Corrado the Fool’s prank-for-hire began it, but where is it going to end? Florence’s noble families are up in arms, and Corrado is pressed into service by both sides against his will. A peacemaking marriage could still quiet the outraged factions, but that fragile alliance may crumble under pressure from an interfering woman, a scorned bride, and a demand for revenge. And only Corrado, the reluctant messenger, is in a position to see it all taking shape.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" /><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-size: 14px;">He doesn’t care who comes out on top, but he does care a lot about surviving and about protecting those he loves, and he'll do whatever he must to prevent the enraged nobles from destroying his city. Will his famous wit and ingenuity be enough? Will anything?</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" /><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-size: 14px;">Inspired by real events, </span><i style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">A Thing Done</i><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-size: 14px;"> tells of a hapless David caught between warring Goliaths. Corrado's story makes it clear that the rich and powerful aren't the only ones who can make history.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" /><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-size: 14px;">”… a wonderful job of demonstrating how minor, insignificant acts can have far reaching consequences while weaving a great tale grounded in historical events. This is a must read.” - </span><i style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">medievalists.net</i><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" /><i style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">A Thing done</i><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-size: 14px;"> won the 2014 Sharp Writ Book Award for Fiction.</span><br />
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Tinney Heathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18383946402836289511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4025295042007800999.post-85421813279438627422018-05-25T06:11:00.000-07:002018-05-25T06:11:37.445-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPK7rcyU_UCb4Hi-81NR0Wz8340jQonDGbCnT7xRcywnh59rzL9WS0LK598q2HgioD9H_gUKH2gkjh5mpVTAo9b_Nlka86-6I-EEKoAav0G7AxLz9AvFdUbDwB1HrBTWIcsIQJ3SH7NJEm/s1600/Susan+cover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="600" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPK7rcyU_UCb4Hi-81NR0Wz8340jQonDGbCnT7xRcywnh59rzL9WS0LK598q2HgioD9H_gUKH2gkjh5mpVTAo9b_Nlka86-6I-EEKoAav0G7AxLz9AvFdUbDwB1HrBTWIcsIQJ3SH7NJEm/s400/Susan+cover.jpg" width="266" /></a></div>
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<h4 style="text-align: center;">
New Release!</h4>
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Readers, this is an extraordinary book. The author is part of the critique triumvirate I am fortunate enough to belong to, but I'm not calling this work extraordinary because of that. It's been a long time since I could so wholeheartedly endorse a novel, but this one is special. I found it absorbing, deeply moving, and uplifting. I admire the writer's skill and subtlety, and I've come to love her characters. I heartily recommend this book. Do yourselves a favor and buy a copy <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Drivers-Wife-S-K-Keogh-ebook/dp/B07C1V2KD6/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1527011111&sr=8-2&keywords=The+Driver%27s+Wife" target="_blank">here</a>.<br />
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<br />
Here's what S.K. Keogh has to say about <b>The Driver's Wife</b>:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">A story of redemption and unconventional love.</span><span style="color: #00000a;"> </span></blockquote>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">Leighlin Plantation offers Edward Ketch a new life, an opportunity to forsake his violent, troubled past and become a man worthy of respect and trust. But when a slave named Isabelle arrives, Ketch is drawn into a turbulent relationship that threatens the very peace he has struggled to attain.</span></blockquote>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">Isabelle has her own desires for a fresh start, but scurrilous gossip about her past undermines those hopes. She struggles to be accepted by Leighlin’s other slaves and hopes marriage to a popular man will aid her cause. But her situation worsens when her husband becomes abusive. She discovers, however, one unlikely ally—Ketch, who is as much an outcast among Leighlin’s white population as she is among her people.</span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">A stranger to love, Ketch cannot recognize the true feelings that draw him to Isabelle. To rescue her from the dangers of her marriage, he risks losing not only his position at Leighlin but the affections of the woman he strives to save.</span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">Set against the backdrop of 17th century Carolina, The Driver’s Wife explores the lives and relationships, from Big House to slave settlement, of those who labored upon the wilderness plantations near Charles Town. Rice cultivation and the task system of slavery provide a much different landscape from the aristocratic Old South of cotton plantations and gang labor familiar to most modern-day readers. The Driver’s Wife is a tale of the transcendent power of love.</span></blockquote>
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And here's the review I've put up on Amazon:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
T<span style="font-family: inherit;">he author pulls off quite a feat. She gives us a main character who
is about as far from lovable as it’s possible to get: Ketch has a
violent past, a truculent, antagonistic attitude, and many secrets.
He is damaged on more than one level. And yet… even from the
beginning we see his intelligence at work, his sense of justice, his
compassion (even though he doesn’t recognize that quality in
himself). One step at a time, incrementally, we begin to root for
Ketch, until before we know it we’re a hundred percent on his side
– and he is becoming a different man.</span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">This book is a gem. Its descriptions of the colonial south are lush
and vivid, which enhances the whole, but the extraordinary depth of
characterization is what makes this story something special. The two
main characters are fully realized. Separately and together, they
hold the reader’s interest and we can’t help but care about them
and their budding relationship, which is as singular as it is
inevitable. Secondary characters, too, are three-dimensional,
especially Helen, the precocious and warm-hearted child who Ketch
protects and loves. I would love to see a follow-up book someday
about Helen as a grown woman.</span> </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">A lot happens to Ketch and Isabelle externally, but even more happens
– and deeper changes occur – internally, which gives the
characters and the book as a whole a rare depth and richness. This
reader will not soon forget these people and their story. </span></blockquote>
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<br />
The author:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYaoE-___CTRZXzaSF_sxYgu3IAWgBlxN2bwYs1KV7Y7Zn2ExX0mLJbQDnWiQWaNimqGf_hcYxzTuJGGxnrpHdGHx6XnhJ9DIu9USfWrF5VqdwLQNBQV5zfPDxnxcmIa6mByk835wTBt-N/s1600/Susan+Keogh.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="713" data-original-width="674" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYaoE-___CTRZXzaSF_sxYgu3IAWgBlxN2bwYs1KV7Y7Zn2ExX0mLJbQDnWiQWaNimqGf_hcYxzTuJGGxnrpHdGHx6XnhJ9DIu9USfWrF5VqdwLQNBQV5zfPDxnxcmIa6mByk835wTBt-N/s200/Susan+Keogh.jpg" width="188" /></a></div>
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
When
Susan Keogh won an elementary school writing contest and a trip to a
regional young writers conference, she hadn’t realized that experience
was the beginning of a love affair with
words. Keogh was raised in a large family where reading was encouraged.
Through her mother’s interest in history, Keogh grew to admire such
authors as Michael Shaara and Bruce Catton, a fellow Michigan writer who
focused on the American Civil War. So it was
no wonder that her first writing credit was a featured article in the
magazine America’s Civil War. </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Keogh’s particular interest in the Civil
War led her into re-enacting for several years as a field musician.
Keogh’s most recent time period of historical interest is early colonial
America. She has crafted a series of novels that center around the
adventures of Jack Mallory, a young Englishmen
who is both pirate and eventually the patriarch of a large rice
plantation in the colonial province of Carolina.</blockquote>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOlAkon8b-2Tedir-Oiu6VNxPQ0ijyfEv8Wx3_PiGXrs1QY6WKvlM_RZEksFr6n9bIwIYyBVEtqO6PtxziJVAyU9WUHwraue99L-__QFDlDi9pV-R7MrQ6EXx7n_485Aw5zL7Bvt6LE6DD/s1600/Susan+thumbnails.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="819" data-original-width="1600" height="163" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOlAkon8b-2Tedir-Oiu6VNxPQ0ijyfEv8Wx3_PiGXrs1QY6WKvlM_RZEksFr6n9bIwIYyBVEtqO6PtxziJVAyU9WUHwraue99L-__QFDlDi9pV-R7MrQ6EXx7n_485Aw5zL7Bvt6LE6DD/s320/Susan+thumbnails.jpg" width="320" /></a></blockquote>
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Outside
of her writing life, Keogh works in the health care field and enjoys
travel (preferably to warm places outside of her native Michigan!), the
arts, pickleball, and equestrian activities.</blockquote>
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Tinney Heathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18383946402836289511noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4025295042007800999.post-80241713763853578702017-06-18T12:24:00.000-07:002017-06-18T12:24:53.483-07:00Website Outtakes<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjohFwffAQcHoMYeckBS_kGFKkQs_04S6evkBNpxDVEKgNHbXnkTzmXdDFyWeU9czLIvbFn1NUMpnr-lSvsPykg1YkOn0GqQJSqIEpEF4HDWTeZWyvHA42_FzlRFqgKbN755juToYvCuFGn/s1600/Villani164_165small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="766" data-original-width="1200" height="255" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjohFwffAQcHoMYeckBS_kGFKkQs_04S6evkBNpxDVEKgNHbXnkTzmXdDFyWeU9czLIvbFn1NUMpnr-lSvsPykg1YkOn0GqQJSqIEpEF4HDWTeZWyvHA42_FzlRFqgKbN755juToYvCuFGn/s400/Villani164_165small.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<style type="text/css">p { margin-bottom: 0.1in; direction: ltr; color: rgb(0, 0, 10); line-height: 120%; text-align: left; }p.western { font-family: "Liberation Serif",serif; font-size: 12pt; }p.cjk { font-family: "Noto Sans CJK SC Regular"; font-size: 12pt; }p.ctl { font-family: "FreeSans"; font-size: 12pt; }</style><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">Recently I've been working on re-doing my website. It is a tedious task, and when faced with a tedious task, my every instinct is to entertain myself by keeping it light. However, one cannot get too silly in a website if one wants to be taken seriously. (Do I want to be taken seriously? I'm not sure, actually.) </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">So I toned it down, but I thought I might as well use this version here in my blog, where I am not exactly known for being overly serious. By the way, don't bother checking out the site yet; I have a new host, and I'm still trying to figure out how the graphics work, so there isn't much there yet. But if you're at all curious about who I am or what I write, this outtake should help:</span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">Tinney
Sue Heath writes fiction set in medieval Italy. She didn’t
originally intend to choose a bit of history that is obscure, often
misunderstood, and has never been featured on a television
miniseries, but that’s how it worked out.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">She
was poking around in the Italian Renaissance when she got to
wondering “Why then? Why there?” She took a tentative step back
in time and promptly discovered a whole raft of fascinating stuff
that happened </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><i>before</i></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;">
the Medici, </span></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><i>before</i></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;">
Michelangelo, </span></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><i>before</i></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;">
the Borgia pope. She picked up speed as she moved backwards beyond
the Black Death, because, trust me on this, nobody wants to hang
around in 1348. The Black Death is seriously depressing, hitting
depths of yuckiness not even a dedicated historical fictionista can
endure for long. </span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLlc95SHcFEnSIOoX_L2W6ETro1OBlb-HJzfrWOwUL5rNyxFMHteaZeIYfGlRQy0U5vWdUmIWmvgQnbDrogpVpGeo8GuHVdxoUCPKQQDxS-JVyGDxy9-15AXeXsrMbw6ZzFnZxe1vCsspB/s1600/498px-Plague_victims_blessed_by_priest.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="498" height="308" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLlc95SHcFEnSIOoX_L2W6ETro1OBlb-HJzfrWOwUL5rNyxFMHteaZeIYfGlRQy0U5vWdUmIWmvgQnbDrogpVpGeo8GuHVdxoUCPKQQDxS-JVyGDxy9-15AXeXsrMbw6ZzFnZxe1vCsspB/s320/498px-Plague_victims_blessed_by_priest.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;">Onward,
ever backward, until she came to a screeching halt at Dante
(1265-1321). If you're looking for the source of the Italian
Renaissance, this is not a bad place to hover for a while. So Heath
learned about those Guelfs and Ghibellines, about medieval urban
warfare, about mighty defensive towers and magnificent frescoed
churches, about an explosion of glorious poetry and a sea change in the
visual arts, about Florentine magnates and the audacious experiment of
rule by the <i>popolo.</i></span></span></span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdPWRMM4-sv3wTVHp6m6qCGOoW4Ikn0ddcxgL8bRzgn0LdwdFP6fPYBbg9xiWRA_ccFkaoWUF-OzEqTwEuYMGAsav9nptb-0vWaI2zmwrknw1ZqxKgUplcNZLUYhYgZKjs8f7hNWOMQNTI/s1600/15th-century_painters_-_Portrait_of_Dante_Alighieri_-_WGA15992.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="705" data-original-width="512" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdPWRMM4-sv3wTVHp6m6qCGOoW4Ikn0ddcxgL8bRzgn0LdwdFP6fPYBbg9xiWRA_ccFkaoWUF-OzEqTwEuYMGAsav9nptb-0vWaI2zmwrknw1ZqxKgUplcNZLUYhYgZKjs8f7hNWOMQNTI/s320/15th-century_painters_-_Portrait_of_Dante_Alighieri_-_WGA15992.jpg" width="232" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;">And then she wrote her debut novel, and it turned out to be set in 1216.</span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;">1216? WTF? (Naturally, this stands for War-Torn Florence.) Does this mean she went further back in time and settled on a pre-Dante period? Not necessarily. Dante was still compelling, but even in early 14th century Florence she found herself asking "Why him? Why then and there?" So backwards she went, yet again, until she hit that speed bump in 1216.</span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;">She discovered a period rich in surprises, with all the vices and virtues of humanity prominently on display.</span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;">Plus, you get saints, not to mention all that complicated Guelf-Ghibelline, pope-emperor conflict. Her first book, <i>A Thing Done,</i> is based on an incident that triggered the Guelf-Ghibelline split in Florence. Her second (not yet published) novel, which begins in that same decade, involves the early Franciscans, with Saint Francis himself as a prominent - though not the main - character. Saints are a challenge to write about, and Heath claims absolutely no special qualifications in this area, but it's a wonderful exercise for the imagination.</span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqnm5dqaDBwr6JTFY7RTxF6KB6XYuzHzETmuF-dMo0mL33eljxhLWrnxc7hX21rH6e0NBd3smUakI1SGt70Eky0gYtaoq6BO9GSVjggyPQo8B6jM4gteqGo5dyQwhyF345Qj9Swe63a-Yw/s1600/Francis_of_Assisi_-_Cimabue.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1371" data-original-width="450" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqnm5dqaDBwr6JTFY7RTxF6KB6XYuzHzETmuF-dMo0mL33eljxhLWrnxc7hX21rH6e0NBd3smUakI1SGt70Eky0gYtaoq6BO9GSVjggyPQo8B6jM4gteqGo5dyQwhyF345Qj9Swe63a-Yw/s400/Francis_of_Assisi_-_Cimabue.jpg" width="131" /></a></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;">She finds in the ever-squabbling Guelfs and Ghibellines a parallel to the polarized politics of our own times, and it pleases her to think that if civilization made it through that mess, maybe we 21st century folk will also manage to muddle through.</span></span></span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_y8szscPyJoCbilQLOuvG2wbrMwvDT-E4zkpVIV5Kzwg1jQOJsZXu7jc0ooq5vWyFdhNm9mPEUE8sDTRWXv1kuRjWUC3APxBihN4wMeqSUMAFO41cqTjCGUV-7yVBtRT2C3htM7thfswd/s1600/Leonardo_da_Vinci_-_Study_of_Two_Warriors%2527_Heads_for_the_Battle_of_Anghiari_-_Google_Art_Project.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="527" data-original-width="512" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_y8szscPyJoCbilQLOuvG2wbrMwvDT-E4zkpVIV5Kzwg1jQOJsZXu7jc0ooq5vWyFdhNm9mPEUE8sDTRWXv1kuRjWUC3APxBihN4wMeqSUMAFO41cqTjCGUV-7yVBtRT2C3htM7thfswd/s320/Leonardo_da_Vinci_-_Study_of_Two_Warriors%2527_Heads_for_the_Battle_of_Anghiari_-_Google_Art_Project.jpg" width="310" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Guelfs and Ghibellines, squabbling?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;"> So if you want Tudors, or World War II love stories, or Roman soldiers, or guys in kilts, you'll have to look elsewhere. But be of good cheer, because you won't have any trouble at all finding those things in quantity.</span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;">All you'll find here are those Guelfs and Ghibellines (occasionally trading places), saints and sinners (ditto), knights and ladies, jesters and cardinals, crusaders and monks. (There's less place-changing in those last three pairings, though anything's possible, and you just never know...) We're back in the days before glass windows, before wall fireplaces with chimneys, before the great upsurge of religious confraternities. We're not done with the Crusades yet, the Uberti family would really love to take over the government of Florence, and just last year the pope ordered the bishops to stop including hunting dogs and falcons in their retinues. It's 1216. Fasten your seatbelts, and enjoy the ride!</span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><br /></span></span></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;">And for those of you who enjoy interactive blogging, here's a little pop quiz. This list contains six things that can be found either in Heath's published book or in her work in progress. One of them is her own invention, and the other five are historical, no matter how odd they sound. Can you identify the one that is fictional?</span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><br /></span></span></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;">1) A certain saint used to sleep with his head on a stone. His aversion to pillows might have had something to do with his belief that one he had once used, as a guest in a nobleman's home, was possessed by demons.</span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><br /></span></span></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;">2) A jester played a joke on a knight during a banquet, and by doing so managed to start a civil war.</span></span></span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGykck_vZYx5l1ApI4BPcAbsp6-b2HP9KXZcI6q0DaOsnFmY06wC1H-zt2GtWl07Ni8kPh9h6TNTwWn0f9BcqOJGa5N9yPUAcCkBPmet3ZE8ecfJnGkyRk8ad00GyI4Ql1yJ7m-qd5gwl_/s1600/Buffone.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="344" data-original-width="267" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGykck_vZYx5l1ApI4BPcAbsp6-b2HP9KXZcI6q0DaOsnFmY06wC1H-zt2GtWl07Ni8kPh9h6TNTwWn0f9BcqOJGa5N9yPUAcCkBPmet3ZE8ecfJnGkyRk8ad00GyI4Ql1yJ7m-qd5gwl_/s320/Buffone.jpg" width="248" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><br /></span></span></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;">3) A certain pope with a notorious temper used to wear the finger bone of a holy woman in a portable reliquary to prevent him from blaspheming.</span></span></span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrZlzEuXsA8pG9NH6S3cuhBH1-3-h6yaHtgvejTOqn_4sTtVtmuNTENsg3tpriIakMDTwV66L4G1b07fdZ6gWUbJIH2Ti-QcQZvQKYwvlIsc1shlo4GWcNMtsP736QYKoTrZ_43k9_q3yW/s1600/Reliquary_phylactery_with_a_finger_of_Marie_d%2527Oignes%252C_by_Hugo_de_Walcourt_workshop%252C_c._1230_AD%252C_wood%252C_gilt_copper%252C_enamel%252C_semi-precious_stones_-_Cinquantenaire_Museum_-_Brussels%252C_Belgium_-_DSC08837.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="673" data-original-width="512" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrZlzEuXsA8pG9NH6S3cuhBH1-3-h6yaHtgvejTOqn_4sTtVtmuNTENsg3tpriIakMDTwV66L4G1b07fdZ6gWUbJIH2Ti-QcQZvQKYwvlIsc1shlo4GWcNMtsP736QYKoTrZ_43k9_q3yW/s200/Reliquary_phylactery_with_a_finger_of_Marie_d%2527Oignes%252C_by_Hugo_de_Walcourt_workshop%252C_c._1230_AD%252C_wood%252C_gilt_copper%252C_enamel%252C_semi-precious_stones_-_Cinquantenaire_Museum_-_Brussels%252C_Belgium_-_DSC08837.jpg" width="151" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Reliquary with the finger of Marie d'Oignes</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><br /></span></span></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;">4) The women of this town used to communicate information with one another over distances by the way they hung their laundry on the clotheslines - the sequence of items and colors.</span></span></span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZvUzSMjAcLt7yVY3ZWtL3bknlmT9O_o4LFJZAHm69i7Non-SdOQRzu-S_t1S-FCJZvYvk5QPIz_zG27Oeb1YjgPFa1DioaOsPzYIcfjKIHWD6URz9w1v22oOddPp1xa8pOB-maB-tEYYw/s1600/A_woman%2527s_work.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="622" data-original-width="512" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZvUzSMjAcLt7yVY3ZWtL3bknlmT9O_o4LFJZAHm69i7Non-SdOQRzu-S_t1S-FCJZvYvk5QPIz_zG27Oeb1YjgPFa1DioaOsPzYIcfjKIHWD6URz9w1v22oOddPp1xa8pOB-maB-tEYYw/s320/A_woman%2527s_work.jpg" width="263" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><br /></span></span></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;">5) A wealthy noblewoman used to prepare her special almond cakes for Saint Francis, and he was so fond of them that on his deathbed he asked for some.</span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><br /></span></span></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;">6) Someone once thought it would be a good idea to make peace between warring factions by arranging a marriage between one of the combatants and a woman from the other side. (Spoiler alert: It wasn't.) Someone else once thought he would just ignore the marriage contract and dump his betrothed in favor of another woman from his own political side of the fence. (Spoiler alert: Neither was that.)</span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><b>About the author</b>:</span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;">Tinney Sue Heath realized at an early age that she had no domestic talents whatsoever and did not do well with repetitive work of any sort. An aptitude test revealed that she should absolutely not even <i>think </i>about working as a banker or a police officer, but she might have a chance as a musician or a writer. So she went for music and writing, and those have worked out fairly well. She is a fan of medieval music, Leonard Cohen, Italian opera, men's figure skating, logic problems, live theater, and a whole slew of writers, including her inspiration for going into historical fiction, Dorothy Dunnett. She plays several Renaissance and medieval wind instruments and a portative organ, but she can't cope with stringed instruments. If there's no way to blow into it, it's somebody else's problem. She has a husband and son who are totally amazing, and if she never accomplishes anything else beyond having them in her world, it will still have been a rousing success of a lifetime. She never writes about politics online, but sometimes she is very tempted.</span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><br /></span></span></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><br /></span></span></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><i> </i></span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><i> </i></span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><i> </i></span></span> </span></span>
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Tinney Heathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18383946402836289511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4025295042007800999.post-30682602674639049542017-05-29T06:29:00.000-07:002017-05-29T06:29:41.934-07:00The Historical World of Jack Mallory and The Prodigal (guest post by Susan Keogh)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0711YWTNK"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; text-decoration: none;"><span style="mso-ignore: vglayout;"><br /></span></span></a>
<a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0711YWTNK"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; text-decoration: none;"><span style="mso-ignore: vglayout;"><br /></span></span></a>Today I'd like to introduce guest blogger Susan Keogh, author of the newly re-released historical novel <i>The Prodigal</i> and the two novels that follow it (<i>The Fortune</i> and <i>The Alliance</i>). I enjoyed these books tremendously. I've also had the privilege of reading some of Susan's work that has not yet been published, and I can assure you, there's plenty there to look forward to! If you're not yet familiar with this author, you have a treat in store. Here's Susan, followed by her book blurb and her guest post.</div>
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<h2>
<span style="font-size: large;">The Historical World of Jack Mallory and The Prodigal (guest post by Susan Keogh)</span></h2>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">A story of relentless pursuit, betrayal, and
revenge: <br />
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As a young boy Jack Mallory knows horror and desolation when James Logan and
his pirates murder his father and abduct his mother. Falsely accused of piracy
himself, Jack is thrown into jail. He survives seven years in London’s
notorious <span class="SpellE">Newgate</span> prison and emerges a hardened man
seeking revenge.</span></i><br />
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">His obsession with finding his mother’s
kidnapper drives him to the West Indies where he becomes entangled with a fiery
young woman named Maria Cordero. With a score of her own to settle with James
Logan, she disguises her gender and blackmails Jack into taking her aboard his
pirate brig, Prodigal, in his desperate search for Logan. Their tumultuous
relationship simmers while Jack formulates a daring plan to rescue his mother
and exact revenge upon Logan for destroying his family. But Logan has no
intentions of losing what he now treasures more than life itself—Jack’s mother,
Ella.</span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">What
is the single most important aspect of writing historical fiction? Setting.
Setting is the “world-building” that agents and editors talk about when
discussing the genre. You can have great characters, but if the reader can’t
see, smell, and feel the place where your characters live, the story will fall
flat.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">The
setting for my 17<sup>th</sup> century novel, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Prodigal</i>, is split between three places: first and foremost, aboard
the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Prodigal</i> as she sails the
Atlantic Ocean (most of the novel takes place at sea); second, the West Indies;
and third, the Colonial province of Carolina (modern day South Carolina). This
article will discuss the first and the third.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">The
brig <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Prodigal</i> was formerly used as a
merchant vessel but commandeered for Jack’s purpose: hunting down the notorious
pirate who kidnapped his mother. I chose a brig (two masts, compared to the
three masts of a true “ship”) because, historically, pirates did not sail the
large vessels portrayed in most Hollywood films. Pirates preferred small craft
for their speed and maneuverability. They had no need for dozens of heavy guns
to overpower their victims because most merchant vessels pirates preyed upon were
lightly armed (guns took up valuable cargo space) with small crews (a money-saving
measure). My search to find a replica of a brig for research resulted in my
discovery of the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Niagara</i>, whose home
port is Erie, Pennsylvania. I had the pleasure and privilege of sailing upon
her three times, one of those times as a member of the crew. Though the Niagara
existed over a hundred years after the era of my story, I was still able to
apply much of what I learned about sailing to my 17<sup>th</sup> century story.
If you’d like more information about the Niagara, please visit their </span><a href="http://www.flagshipniagara.org/" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">website</span></a><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">. They offer day
sails to the public.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-TXcNxfAdlF2qOOY9da2a1KQ_4hB-Oxf5B0TpF9bSQBir-rq8JFuq3ahQv2EApS3Be9sPLug9O4ShRJSYmJdGhU9nyV4sA-VGFy2rYbeAiC2BZ5MIc696djLFTSuKmAQz_lNs8SQGdLFx/s1600/hat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="295" data-original-width="451" height="261" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-TXcNxfAdlF2qOOY9da2a1KQ_4hB-Oxf5B0TpF9bSQBir-rq8JFuq3ahQv2EApS3Be9sPLug9O4ShRJSYmJdGhU9nyV4sA-VGFy2rYbeAiC2BZ5MIc696djLFTSuKmAQz_lNs8SQGdLFx/s400/hat.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me after my first sail aboard the <i>Niagara.</i></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">When
discussing the setting of Charles Town, Carolina (modern-day Charleston), I
don’t want to give away anything about the plot of <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Prodigal</i> (I hate spoilers, don’t you?), so I will keep this a
bit broad.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">I traveled to Charleston a couple of times during the process of writing my
novel. My focus was upon rice plantations and the rice culture, which made the
region wealthy in the 1700s. My story takes place in the 1690’s, so in my story
I had to portray <span class="SpellE">Leighlin</span> Plantation as a bit ahead
of the times in discovering rice cultivation.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Two
invaluable stops during my research were<a href="http://www.draytonhall.org/" target="_blank"> </a></span><a href="http://www.draytonhall.org/" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Drayton Hall</span></a><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"> and </span><a href="http://www.middletonplace.org/index.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Middleton Place Plantation</span></a><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">. Drayton Hall
was such a magnificent house (and so very well preserved) that I decided to use
its design for <span class="SpellE">Leighlin</span> House.</span></div>
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<span class="SpellE"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Leighlin’s</span></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"> land was
partially inspired by Middleton Place, situated on a bluff (a rare
topographical feature in the “<span class="SpellE">lowcountry</span>” of
Charleston) with its beautiful view of the Ashley River.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">I
used Middleton’s bluff, terraces, butterfly ponds and some other aspects for <span class="SpellE">Leighlin</span>, but its immense gardens I used for another
plantation featured briefly in <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The
Prodigal</i>, Wildwood Plantation. Beauty and symmetry greet the eye in every
direction at Middleton’s gardens. (They also have a fabulous restaurant and Inn
on the property, where I stayed during both of my visits.)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Both
<span class="SpellE">Leighlin</span> and Wildwood feature more prominently in the
second and third books in the series. But don’t feel it necessary to read <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Alliance</i> or <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Fortune</i> in order to enjoy <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The
Prodigal</i>. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Prodigal</i> was
originally written as a stand-alone novel, but once I reached the rather
surprising ending, I found that the characters had much more to tell me, and I
couldn’t wait to find out what that entailed. I hope you will feel the same
way, too.</span></div>
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Tinney Heathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18383946402836289511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4025295042007800999.post-59250426783590239872017-05-25T11:28:00.000-07:002017-05-25T11:28:12.391-07:00The Palazzo that Wasn't There<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpFf0FjOrKQ5qym_UQqrg6p_x53SJEvXQBvabGpQLNMTqzezRXI_hXVSvMlugGqtT65HYaKqltX4r70rcOXAlM731GCrnJbE-lPwjKc9gjOx2xYtG6GERLqDeozXsgLLiEenb-mhjH6u_G/s1600/MeCropped.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpFf0FjOrKQ5qym_UQqrg6p_x53SJEvXQBvabGpQLNMTqzezRXI_hXVSvMlugGqtT65HYaKqltX4r70rcOXAlM731GCrnJbE-lPwjKc9gjOx2xYtG6GERLqDeozXsgLLiEenb-mhjH6u_G/s400/MeCropped.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
This is a picture of an author in Rome on a research trip, gazing wistfully through a fence at where her main character's home used to be.<br />
<br />
Lots of stuff lasts a long, long time in Rome. Why couldn't this place?<br />
<br />
In 1899, William Hughes Mearns wrote a charming little poem that began like this:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
As I was going up the stair<br />
I met a man who wasn't there!<br />
He wasn't there again today,<br />
Oh how I wish he'd go away!</blockquote>
My version would be more like this:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
As I wandered all o'er Rome,<br />
Searching for my subject's home,<br />
I zoomed in on her neighborhood,<br />
But not a single stone still stood.<br />
<br />
It was by Sixtus V destroyed,<br />
Which makes this writer quite annoyed.<br />
He used her palace as a quarry,<br />
For which he really should be sorry.<br />
<br />
But all is gone, alas, alack -<br />
I wish, I <i>wish</i> it would come back!</blockquote>
(I would be even more annoyed, actually, if I didn't find the name Sixtus the Fifth rather delightful.)<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSurkkLgNyoUaMLDxuHTYCHmS2OT1L0DkKtNcOK9qwD0vnsWJrgoQeUs5STDqtAnotI6lW1VapCH2QDjzdNVtOJwNidHQ01D4IEdH3aKN2pqxseftr-rZcoRnWLqV2i6woGyXwpiZobuP5/s1600/Sixtus5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSurkkLgNyoUaMLDxuHTYCHmS2OT1L0DkKtNcOK9qwD0vnsWJrgoQeUs5STDqtAnotI6lW1VapCH2QDjzdNVtOJwNidHQ01D4IEdH3aKN2pqxseftr-rZcoRnWLqV2i6woGyXwpiZobuP5/s1600/Sixtus5.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sixtus V</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Of course, this desecration happened in 1588, so at least it's not a recent loss, like the closure of the crypt in Santa Prassede. "For security reasons," like somehow Rome's safety depends on closing off a crypt in an ancient church. Rome is hugely security conscious at the moment; there are lots of guys in military fatigues standing around monuments carrying really large guns and trying to look scary. <br />
<br />
Do you have any idea how thoroughly camouflage does NOT blend in with Rome? Maybe if they wore clothes with mosaics on them, or marble, it would work. (Or, if I may allow myself a snarky moment, with piles of uncollected garbage. It's not quite Naples yet, but it's getting there.)<br />
<br />
But I digress. <br />
<br />
Anyway, I was in Rome to look up sites associated with the main character of my work in progress. She was a wealthy Roman noblewoman, born into the Normanni family and married into the even more powerful Frangipane family.<br />
<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMY6Vnn7ZMhooaS2Ilw2EEAsMcLYU-tkz-WUu0SnMrZWzcl7Qiqx1HPhOF3sUYsCdeonpY5gqOpyMwOdNrGSvizMrswNUg6SZPjBdMH28AM-PXY5XDItgipGV_etEZ9CX6uuFbcBdElPv-/s1600/DSC_0471.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMY6Vnn7ZMhooaS2Ilw2EEAsMcLYU-tkz-WUu0SnMrZWzcl7Qiqx1HPhOF3sUYsCdeonpY5gqOpyMwOdNrGSvizMrswNUg6SZPjBdMH28AM-PXY5XDItgipGV_etEZ9CX6uuFbcBdElPv-/s320/DSC_0471.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Definitely the right neighborhood. Though they were actually from the Trastevere district.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
She was born toward the end of the 12th century and died around the middle of the 13th. She was an early friend and follower of Saint Francis of Assisi, and she is buried in the Basilica di San Francesco in Assisi. Her name is Giacoma (or Jacoba) dei Settesoli, and here is a fresco of her from the Basilica:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMRJJwgpSopsMOemZZeQHZ50Zm4vxgzzrMr8-9SxPzOdY1um56Q2C5zoc0Wdnl1jptuWD5-rQeMrkdMPMDlmkWwlQTUHVCcVlRhB-eG8rzjwyZ0hLme46U9lJB2qRnBF_uQY0Knl8rffSR/s1600/Jacopa_dei_Settesoli.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMRJJwgpSopsMOemZZeQHZ50Zm4vxgzzrMr8-9SxPzOdY1um56Q2C5zoc0Wdnl1jptuWD5-rQeMrkdMPMDlmkWwlQTUHVCcVlRhB-eG8rzjwyZ0hLme46U9lJB2qRnBF_uQY0Knl8rffSR/s320/Jacopa_dei_Settesoli.jpg" width="193" /></a></div>
<br />
The "dei Settesoli" part of her name indicates that her husband's branch of the family was the one that owned the ancient monument known as the Septizonium (aka Septizodium).<br />
<br />
In the middle ages, the Septizonium was fortified and in use by its noble owners, as were the Colosseum, the Circus Maximus, and many other survivors of the classical era. And in Giacoma's day, her husband's family controlled all three of those I've just mentioned, plus a triumphal arch or two. A lot of status was involved in controlling ancient monuments, and the Frangipani were no slouches when it came to public relations.<br />
<br />
Unfortunately, over the years Rome has sometimes been rather cavalier in the treatment of its past. When it comes to the admonition "Reduce, Reuse, Recycle," Rome was particularly big on the second one. Romans used to burn ancient stone monuments to generate lime to make mortar to stick other bits of ancient stone monuments together into newer stone monuments. This happened a lot. <br />
<br />
It seems to me that the three main reasons for erasing large bits of Rome's medieval history can be summed up by these attitudes, expressed in reverse chronological order:<br />
<ol>
<li>It's only the middle ages. Let's get it out of the way to show off all this cool classical stuff.</li>
<li>It's so old-fashioned. Let's baroque it! It needs a bunch of cherubs and vines and glitz.</li>
<li>Ooh, look! Nice rocks. Shiny! Let's use those.</li>
</ol>
I think Sixtus was probably expressing #3 when he had the Septizonium ruins torn down in 1588 and bits reused here and there and hither and yon. <br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6b5Bp4y7MJ0Zk47YTbYeCa3NNNpm4rZTpjuumX1NUwoqY_ss9RxwGlhFceEjvo8cItD9uL7noaT5tNsAEuqzgiJQFwizC18IW_lgLiSe4e-fmVfjRnZaDYU0L1pEHjJfl8N2Esivd0rIB/s1600/Peracvestigi157514.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="290" data-original-width="512" height="226" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6b5Bp4y7MJ0Zk47YTbYeCa3NNNpm4rZTpjuumX1NUwoqY_ss9RxwGlhFceEjvo8cItD9uL7noaT5tNsAEuqzgiJQFwizC18IW_lgLiSe4e-fmVfjRnZaDYU0L1pEHjJfl8N2Esivd0rIB/s400/Peracvestigi157514.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Septizonium ruins, 16th century</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
So what, exactly, was this Septizonium thing, anyway? And where was it? The "where" is pretty easy to answer, but the "what," not so much. It was located on the southern corner of the Palatine Hill, just a stone's throw from the Circus Maximus (which was, remember, also owned at that time by the Frangipani).<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBVjL_sopkqMHgY8pkCxVejdtPupZPhoyp4fwpas2pcwrBz-1FxvGxL4vE6kpI0C4RsoOCPSnnLgq82_w7sHybJqhnlaBUmDRCsPZKkPJ3GQ59Piqs4RO1vrp5fbpmBlquLfST1DXkZ7IG/s1600/Carte_Rome_Circus_Maximus.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="549" data-original-width="713" height="307" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBVjL_sopkqMHgY8pkCxVejdtPupZPhoyp4fwpas2pcwrBz-1FxvGxL4vE6kpI0C4RsoOCPSnnLgq82_w7sHybJqhnlaBUmDRCsPZKkPJ3GQ59Piqs4RO1vrp5fbpmBlquLfST1DXkZ7IG/s400/Carte_Rome_Circus_Maximus.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
See that red oval on the map? That's the Circus Maximus, and the Septizonium was slightly north of the rounded end. Frangipani in those two locations could have waved at each other from their windows. (By the way, Frangipani is the plural, but when I say "Frangipane family" I'm using the singular. It's like "the Smiths" versus "the Smith family.")<br />
<br />
As for what, there's a fair bit of debate about that. We do know that it was constructed on the orders of the Roman emperor Septimius Severus, and what we see pictured, the ruins that survived into the 16th century, appear to be an elaborate facade. As to its original purpose, I've seen it described as a palace facade, a nymphaeum, a temple, a fountain, a place to display statues, or having "no known practical purpose."<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8hx_6K-Acv6Zj9oDZjaVf10oTJNS0ztgVxEvG8yD8Dn0gYGZHcIiCcTD12IXigY26mK6OWJ7s-qhoelfjsbKut5cDYnMkecOIpDFmYxGeGPzjsuk6VP_OQj59w6Eorw6R1rOXgmDtbMW0/s1600/Severan_dynasty_-_tondo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="521" data-original-width="512" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8hx_6K-Acv6Zj9oDZjaVf10oTJNS0ztgVxEvG8yD8Dn0gYGZHcIiCcTD12IXigY26mK6OWJ7s-qhoelfjsbKut5cDYnMkecOIpDFmYxGeGPzjsuk6VP_OQj59w6Eorw6R1rOXgmDtbMW0/s320/Severan_dynasty_-_tondo.jpg" width="314" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Septimius Severus and family</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Whatever it was, it was in ruins by the 8th century. It had been incorporated into a fortress long before the Frangipani took possession. But we don't know what form that took - whether it was a tower-house, or strictly a defensive bastion. Did people live there? Did Giacoma? It is widely assumed that she did, but I have my doubts. More on that later.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFjAqM_fWFZtEOZ_X67kelEn9nCCRILeksg5jTr72TFAVQQsE7l5xIML68ziam9Q7wrSwf41H_joopKuibC3zwi9xtQ6Fu4fbhutV8wBbUHtOKODNLj9jSI1izPd9w4FXC26Y31eahxQzy/s1600/512px-Hieronymus_Cock_Antike_Ruine.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="343" data-original-width="512" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFjAqM_fWFZtEOZ_X67kelEn9nCCRILeksg5jTr72TFAVQQsE7l5xIML68ziam9Q7wrSwf41H_joopKuibC3zwi9xtQ6Fu4fbhutV8wBbUHtOKODNLj9jSI1izPd9w4FXC26Y31eahxQzy/s400/512px-Hieronymus_Cock_Antike_Ruine.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
This picture shows the Septizonium as a romantic ruin. It isn't really that close to the Colosseum, though.<br />
<br />
It has had a notorious role in history, but it may not deserve that infamy. There may be a question of mistaken identity involved (there is also a Septasolium, a different structure altogether.)<br />
<br />
History tells us of popes imprisoned in the Septizonium, of other popes taking refuge from rampaging crowds of Romans in the streets below, and also of one particularly awful papal conclave supposedly held there in 1241. (I hasten to point out that 1241 was two years after Giacoma's death, and by then she had been living in Assisi for quite a while.)<br />
<br />
It is said that the Roman senator Matteo Rosso Orsini housed the cardinals in the Septizonium, a ramshackle ruin, and kept them in a room where the rain leaked in, along with the malodorous results of Orsini's guards relieving themselves up on the roof. It is further said that the cardinals were deprived of proper food, servants, and doctors, and that they suffered mightily. One, from England, died. The rest stuck it out for two months, however, and finally elected Pope Celestine IV, who had been nobody's favorite candidate at the outset. Celestine may have been the worse for the experience also, for he lasted only 17 days before he died, not even making it to his coronation.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVLM1KmWcV0HAuqfYcvps0C3V8-QpMZ0uX9fd5guyBjQa22aqi6KIJqwCJdxwXb4K95UYCxDnq96tRPpy4Piw23Tg6iUbPLIB5WNaiPmjNEsEra0u-3UGumU1oz_BO1N4A0dpdHnPEBBTT/s1600/Pope_Celestine_IV.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="602" data-original-width="431" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVLM1KmWcV0HAuqfYcvps0C3V8-QpMZ0uX9fd5guyBjQa22aqi6KIJqwCJdxwXb4K95UYCxDnq96tRPpy4Piw23Tg6iUbPLIB5WNaiPmjNEsEra0u-3UGumU1oz_BO1N4A0dpdHnPEBBTT/s320/Pope_Celestine_IV.jpg" width="229" /></a></div>
<br />
I am personally inclined to think that this didn't happen in Giacoma's Septizonium. For one thing, if it had indeed been her home, or even her property, I find it hard to believe it would have deteriorated that much only two years after her death. For another, we still don't know if there was ever anything more to the Septizonium than an elaborate colonnaded facade, so there may not have even been any place to put the cardinals.<br />
<br />
The similarly-named Septisolium (aka Heliogabalum), on the other hand, was a much more commodious place, a monastery which had been used previously for papal elections. It seems likely that this was the location of the conclave, and that the cardinals were perhaps not as ill-used as reports suggest, though certainly some of them were there (wherever "there" was) against their will.<br />
<br />
So there I was in Rome, with no Septizonium to look at, and not even the certainty that Giacoma did indeed live in the structure that used to be there. But I take a Canadian Mountie approach to my on-site research ("We Get Our Septizonium!"), so we weren't done yet. I happened to know where some of the pieces of the Septizonium had gone, when Pope Sixtus V had it razed, so off we went, looking for the bits.<br />
<br />
Some of it - 104 blocks of marble - wound up here, in the restoration of the Antonine Column, specifically in the base of the statue of Saint Peter:<br />
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And some of it wound up here, in the northern facade of San Giovanni Laterano:<br />
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<br />
and here, in the Palazzo della Cancelleria:<br />
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<br />
and in the restoration of the Baths of Diocletian:<br />
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and even in Sixtus's own tomb, in Santa Maria Maggiore:<br />
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<br />
These weren't the only places, but you get the idea. Giacoma's Septizonium was spread all over Rome. The destruction had cost Sixtus 905 scudi, but he got a lot of marble, travertine, and columns out of the deal.<br />
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It was a disappointment, though not a surprise. But since I was becoming increasingly convinced that her actual home was probably located in the Circus Maximus, I still had something to explore, and that exploration turned up a wealth of information.<br />
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More about that in my next post, but meanwhile here's a picture of the Frangipani tower that still stands (hurray!) in the Circus Maximus. We'll explore that next time.<br />
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<br />Tinney Heathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18383946402836289511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4025295042007800999.post-77309450168602583462017-04-12T13:10:00.000-07:002017-04-15T09:16:26.975-07:00Say what? (or, Navigating a Foreign Language on its Home Turf)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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My husband and I have recently returned from several weeks in Italy, and I find myself thinking about the frustration, fascination, and sheer fun of trying to communicate in a language other than my native English.<br />
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My language status: I am not fluent in Italian, but I get by reasonably well. I read the language better than I speak it, because (1) I read it all the time when doing research for my writing, and (2) I am a hopelessly self-conscious speaker, and forgetting one word or being uncertain of a verb tense is enough to silence me, because I want it to be perfect. <br />
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Of course, Italian is not a monolithic language. It abounds with dialects, accents, regional peculiarities, and the kind of verbal shorthand that everyone tends to use in casual conversation, all of which add to the challenge of actually managing to communicate in it. Here's an idea of how diverse it can be:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0BlqDmxClxl_n38VmsSjNdRSr5oSODkGXzGy-Fge-MNDNrfoYgj_XH387KB8ADzWJmT1LmS47KOtRzGtaCkvX6XdaVpaTQor9TcEOlyptV1Edl-Yogz3LXQH7FVfLYIzCQ25YgruKki0U/s1600/Languages_spoken_in_Italy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0BlqDmxClxl_n38VmsSjNdRSr5oSODkGXzGy-Fge-MNDNrfoYgj_XH387KB8ADzWJmT1LmS47KOtRzGtaCkvX6XdaVpaTQor9TcEOlyptV1Edl-Yogz3LXQH7FVfLYIzCQ25YgruKki0U/s640/Languages_spoken_in_Italy.jpg" width="512" /></a></div>
Depending on where you go in Italy, chances are that many people will speak to you in English. Yes, they'll know you speak English. With me, they take one look at my sensible shoes and my total lack of fashion sense, and the lightbulb goes on over their heads, and the thought balloon says "English! I can practice my English!"<br />
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Meanwhile, I am thinking, "This is my chance to speak Italian!" So off we go, with the Italian person speaking imperfect English to me and me speaking imperfect Italian to him. This results in some rollicking conversations, and it really is a lot of fun. <br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIm2RnVRvXnIqz0GQ2SO6DLUiqoTDwQ2ZMdR7zFclJmMyvZmBzr7OC9XIzjHPPa6HhjYBWgz2eZD7OYtsjU4vSsU7ysDATZYtiOamSXPhuiJqoUYbovR-bFVnSMS8jELyOJgPXlQAJRXoJ/s1600/Meeting-1002800_1920.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIm2RnVRvXnIqz0GQ2SO6DLUiqoTDwQ2ZMdR7zFclJmMyvZmBzr7OC9XIzjHPPa6HhjYBWgz2eZD7OYtsjU4vSsU7ysDATZYtiOamSXPhuiJqoUYbovR-bFVnSMS8jELyOJgPXlQAJRXoJ/s1600/Meeting-1002800_1920.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Who's speaking what?</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
We tend to spend a lot of time in smaller towns, towns with less of a
tourist presence than the major cities, and there I find it is
genuinely useful to have some grasp of the language. The hostess at our
agriturismo this trip, for example, didn't have any English, so
communication depended on my skills, which for the most part were there
when I needed them. <br />
<br />
People in train stations tend to speak train English; people in restaurants speak restaurant English; people in museums speak museum English, and so on. This is fine for a while, but it's pretty easy to veer off course if the conversation goes anywhere even slightly unusual, and then we're all out of our depth.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tourists in Rome</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
I had one conversation with a shopkeeper on this trip that resulted in the two of us exclaiming "Brava!" to each other and sharing high fives, all because she remembered some obscure weirdness in English (I don't remember which, we have so many), and I managed to do something fairly sophisticated in Italian ("Woo-hoo! Correct use of the subjunctive AND a reflexive verb, all in one sentence!").<br />
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Once in a while I run into a fellow perfectionist. That would include the waiter who was trying to answer my questions about the menu. He was speaking English, and I was speaking some of each language, but I'll render it here in English:<br />
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Me (pointing to something on the menu): What is this?<br />
Him: It is a vegetable. I do not know the word in English.<br />
Me: Okay, maybe I'll have the artichokes, then.<br />
Him: It is green, and it looks like grass.<br />
Me: Or how about the eggplant?<br />
Him: It looks like grass, but it is cooked. It is like cooked grass.<br />
Me: Maybe the zucchini.<br />
Him: It is like green grass that is cooked. Yes, it is like grass.<br />
Me (sighing): Okay, I'll have the cooked grass.</blockquote>
Electronics seem to have a harder time than I do, for the most part. I had occasion to type a couple of emails in Italian while we were there, and I hadn't figured out how to disable Autocorrect on my iPad, so the results were odd, to say the least. My cheery "Buon giorno!" got corrected into "Buon ginormous," and my comment that we were running late ("in ritardo") came out as "in Ricardo." I mentioned that we had a rental car ("macchina"), but the iPad decided it was a "macchiato." And when I wanted to speak of "nostra partenza" (our departure), it absolutely insisted that I must mean "Nostradamus partenza."<br />
<br />
I therefore wish all of you a very buon ginormous, hope that you don't find yourselves in poor old Ricardo, and suggest that if you are in need of a macchiato, you consider buying it instead of renting it. I have no idea what to do about Nostradamus. Lots of people didn't, as I recall.<br />
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And then there was our GPS. When we were in Greece a couple of years ago, we named our GPS lady with the British accent Cassandra, on the grounds that nobody ever listened to her, either. This time I wanted to call her La Compiuta Donzella, after a 13th century Tuscan poet, but my husband kept referring to her as the Madonna della Locazione Globale, and that stuck. Her main problem was pronunciation.<br />
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
GPS: Continue for 7 kilometers to Seena.<br />
Me: It's SiEna, you electronic dingbat.<br />
GPS: Take the exit to Chiuso.<br />
Me: Chiusi, not Chiuso. Who programmed you, anyway?<br />
GPS: Continue through MonTALcheeNO.<br />
Me: MonTALcheeNO?!? Get a grip, lady! It's MONtalCIno.<br />
GPS: Take the next left toward Seena.<br />
Me: SiEna!</blockquote>
And so on.<br />
<br />
My husband, by the way, has picked up a smattering of Italian along the way, but once in a while he still comes up with a howler. My favorite was the train ride when we were trying to figure out what stop we were passing, and he saw the sign that said "Vietato attraversare i binari."<br />
<br />
"I got it!" he announced. "We're in Vietato."<br />
<br />
I almost hated to point out that "Vietato attraversare i binari" means "It is forbidden to cross the tracks," but I couldn't resist observing that a town named "Forbidden" didn't sound like a really great place for our vacation.<br />
<br />
Then there are pronunciation issues. The Italians don't do too well with the letter H, a voiced glottal fricative. So, when we're checking in somewhere and I need to give them our name (Heath), I spell it out: "Acca come hotel, E come Empoli, A come Ancona, T come Torino, e un'altra Acca," and they make a heroic effort to say the name, and it comes out as "Signora Heat." This is because even worse than the H, which they work at, is the digraph TH, the voiced or unvoiced dental fricative. That just isn't an option.<br />
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Favorite example: in Pienza, a few years ago, a pleasant young woman was showing us through the Palazzo Piccolomini.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCJmtYOHK9cX0ZSsnmkyUhizkIf8DYGsSdGFmvM77_Uf80f3rJZZRjqsH9PhdzJHnT1UbxLjEENOjnwqWLRSD25P-zBw0jg2Lg7-p43TdRfgCqYhTzgpFpT5shTZUjTb8f6XWby3JtsCRJ/s1600/Palazzo_Piccolomini_Pienza.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCJmtYOHK9cX0ZSsnmkyUhizkIf8DYGsSdGFmvM77_Uf80f3rJZZRjqsH9PhdzJHnT1UbxLjEENOjnwqWLRSD25P-zBw0jg2Lg7-p43TdRfgCqYhTzgpFpT5shTZUjTb8f6XWby3JtsCRJ/s320/Palazzo_Piccolomini_Pienza.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Palazzo Piccolomini</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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We managed to be thoughtful and studious and nod appropriately as she told us the history of various Piccolomini popes and their predecessors, and we were fine with Pius the First, and with Pius the Second. But every time she got around to "Pius the Turd," we had to be sure not to look at each other, lest we lose it, which would have been rude.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpwV-cK30luRHnWRRvbXwwMgjAMSruFxJm3JXjDaqsgISyCbZBHv7K4ohskUzsWI7Mf6Li-aK3YPBWlSK50GlrSLNJuciqylaSeatU7zyf1KxemdCk2bKedvZKUZpQ8KA-MCTZ8JZt-3fy/s1600/445px-Pius_III%252C_Nordisk_familjebok.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpwV-cK30luRHnWRRvbXwwMgjAMSruFxJm3JXjDaqsgISyCbZBHv7K4ohskUzsWI7Mf6Li-aK3YPBWlSK50GlrSLNJuciqylaSeatU7zyf1KxemdCk2bKedvZKUZpQ8KA-MCTZ8JZt-3fy/s320/445px-Pius_III%252C_Nordisk_familjebok.jpg" width="237" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pius</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I'll close with the charming, if slightly askew, comment by the church sacristan who was showing us around the sanctuary of a church that has a connection to my work in progress. He was quite indifferent to us at first, but he warmed to us when I for once remembered to murmur "Permesso," before walking through the door he had just opened for us. While it may seem strange to Americans to request permission to enter a space you have already been invited into, it is in fact a rather subtle custom, a way of saying, "I acknowledge that this is your space and not mine." An Italian would have done it without thinking. I've had to train myself. But he immediately dropped his guard, and we began one of those dual language conversations that when you try to remember them, you can't recall what was said in which language.<br />
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I mentioned my main character - a historical person, but not one many people have heard of - and his eyes widened, and he proceeded to rattle off her history in rapid Italian. He didn't tell me anything I didn't already know, but what he said was accurate, and at that moment there was a real sense of connection between us. So when we parted, he shook my hand and smiled at me and, in English, wished me "Merry Christmas!" It was the week before Easter, so he had missed by a bit, but that was fine. We settled on "Buona Pasqua," and parted as friends.<br />
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<br />Tinney Heathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18383946402836289511noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4025295042007800999.post-74049758013116998652017-01-07T11:44:00.000-08:002017-01-07T11:44:36.433-08:00Wheel of Fortune (Part 2 of 2)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0p6xoC61yiUvsokQul2AnJ6yPCcdD3aG56TZPqwr6T3XlVlzER-2lowZNABlsM17Cyh70i32afnhzOtokxvyAdRMTD802F5C8UerBk9blj40AF9fBraiPLymMr3rLR7kQvHmuZICi8O1e/s1600/Carmina_Burana_Wheel_of_Fortune_%2528detail%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0p6xoC61yiUvsokQul2AnJ6yPCcdD3aG56TZPqwr6T3XlVlzER-2lowZNABlsM17Cyh70i32afnhzOtokxvyAdRMTD802F5C8UerBk9blj40AF9fBraiPLymMr3rLR7kQvHmuZICi8O1e/s400/Carmina_Burana_Wheel_of_Fortune_%2528detail%2529.jpg" width="338" /></a></div>
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O Fortune, </div>
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like the moon</div>
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you are changeable,</div>
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ever waxing</div>
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and waning; </div>
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hateful life</div>
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first oppresses </div>
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and then soothes </div>
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as fancy takes it;</div>
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poverty</div>
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and power</div>
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it melts them like ice.</div>
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Fate - monstrous</div>
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and empty,</div>
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you whirling wheel,</div>
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you are malevolent,</div>
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well-being is vain</div>
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and always fades to nothing,</div>
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shadowed</div>
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and veiled</div>
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you plague me too;</div>
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now through the game</div>
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I bring my bare back</div>
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to your villainy.</div>
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(I would love to credit the translator of the text above, but although this version appears about forty gazillion times all over the place, nobody seems to bother to list the translator's name. So let us figuratively lay a wreath on the Tomb of the Unknown Translator - whether it be occupied yet or not - and acknowledge our debt to the skilled and too-easily-forgotten people who render things comprehensible for the rest of us. I, for one, need them. My knowledge of Latin is nil. And don't even get me started on all the scholarly articles that show off by including quotes in several languages and not translating them, because naturally if we're smart enough to read their work, we're supposed to know all those languages, right? Harrumph. End of rant. We now return you to your regularly scheduled blog post.)<br />
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In the previous post we examined the role of Fortune and her wheel in Boethius's great work, <i>The Consolation of Philosophy.</i> We took a look at the classical origins of the goddess Fortuna, and briefly discussed the iconography. If you'd like to read that post before continuing, you'll find it here: <br />
<a href="http://historicalfictionresearch.blogspot.com/2017/01/the-wheel-of-fortune-part-1-of-2.html" target="_blank">http://historicalfictionresearch.blogspot.com/2017/01/the-wheel-of-fortune-part-1-of-2.html</a><br />
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The illustration above, as well as the one at the top of this post, is from the medieval manuscript containing the famous <i>Carmina Burana</i> song collection (ca. 1235). Benjamin Bagby, leader of the medieval music group Sequentia, has described this collection as evidencing "an almost obsessive fascination with Fortuna." Consisting of bawdy and satirical songs from the 11th, 12th, and 13th centuries, mostly in medieval Latin but with some of the poems in other European languages, <i>Carmina Burana</i> may well have originated with the irrepressible <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Goliard" target="_blank">Goliards</a>, young clerics, often second sons cut off from inheritance and therefore given over to the church despite a lack of vocation. Many of the poems, most of which are anonymous, satirize the Church. <br />
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Most of us know <i>Carmina Burana</i> best from Carl Orff's cantata based on the songs, written in the 1930s. Here you will find a link to a popular performance of Orff's dramatic version of the song quoted above: <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GXFSK0ogeg4"><span style="font-weight: normal;">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GXFSK0ogeg4</span></a><br />
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And if you like to season the sublime with a touch of the ridiculous, here's one of the "misheard lyrics" versions: <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nIwrgAnx6Q8"><span style="font-weight: normal;">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nIwrgAnx6Q8</span></a><br />
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<span style="font-weight: normal;"> Recently I attended a Sequentia concert in which another Fortune-related song from <i>Carmina Burana</i> was featured. The translations of the lyrics (by Bagby, in this case) were projected onto the wall behind the performers, for the benefit of the audience. At one point, this occasioned a ripple of laughter through the audience, which swelled into general hilarity despite the song's overall serious tone. I'll quote those lines here and leave it to you to figure out what caused so much amusement:</span><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-weight: normal;">O Fortune, changing and unstable, your tribunal and judges are also unstable. You prepare huge gifts for him who you would tickle with favors as he arrives at the top of your wheel.</span><br />
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<span style="font-weight: normal;">But your gifts are unsure, and finally everything is reversed; you raise up the poor man from his filth and you make the loudmouth into a statesman.</span></blockquote>
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Fortuna in Dante</h3>
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It's in the seventh canto of the <i>Inferno</i> that Dante's guide, Virgil, explains to him the nature of Fortune. Dante asks Virgil, "This Fortune that you touch on here, what is it, that has the goods of the world in its clutches?"<br />
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Virgil replies:<br />
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
He whose wisdom transcends all things fashioned the heavens, and he gave them governors who see that every part shines to every other part,<br />
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distributing the light equally. Similarly, for worldly splendors he ordained a general minister and leader<br />
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who would transfer from time to time the empty goods from one people to another, from one family to another, beyond any human wisdom's power to prevent;<br />
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therefore one people rules and another languishes, according to her judgment, that is hidden, like the snake in grass.<br />
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Your knowledge cannot resist her; she foresees, judges, and carries out her rule as the other gods do theirs.<br />
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Her permutations know no truce; necessity makes her swift, so thick come those who must have their turns.<br />
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This is she who is so crucified even by those who should give her praise, wrongly blaming and speaking ill of her;<br />
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but she is blessed in herself and does not listen: with the other first creatures, she gladly turns her sphere and rejoices in her blessedness.</blockquote>
(translation by Robert M. Durling)<br />
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Dante the author (as opposed to Dante the character) has made Fortune a Divine Intelligence, a "general minister and leader" - or, as Dante scholar Christopher Kleinhenz says, "an angel, above rebuke."<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrpvhh6ABd7GJuF6dY1iWkPOucFv6nyK8mz9BL7lFdBLyNEb32hLU6kdY0sme5SjZJY8W-kmgZhxAfRlX1WJIUnat31TTxWNyYn0XnbNmcOv60bKFpIaIDFnAhm_cfUI_vGQWa4mStkjQ7/s1600/Stradano_Inferno_Canto_07.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrpvhh6ABd7GJuF6dY1iWkPOucFv6nyK8mz9BL7lFdBLyNEb32hLU6kdY0sme5SjZJY8W-kmgZhxAfRlX1WJIUnat31TTxWNyYn0XnbNmcOv60bKFpIaIDFnAhm_cfUI_vGQWa4mStkjQ7/s320/Stradano_Inferno_Canto_07.jpg" width="250" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Canto &7</td></tr>
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This exchange occurs as Dante and Virgin approach the fourth circle, where the avaricious and the prodigal are punished. These damned souls must roll huge stones in opposing directions, moving in a semicircle. When they meet head-on, they clash, then turn and retrace their steps. Thus, they never complete a circuit. Unlike Fortune's wheel, they can never go full circle.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg43oXdfJnZkFVGC1KHBR17aKHyo5hGGbtsEQcZIWIA0fKpe9zJbqzmfo_HGLZpocjhtZ8alTjHgGS340Su6KD5wHEgbdqZTZhyi4SaIEZ08CXytPWFwbxNWWjn0euncOcqyZ_QMEjc8-yg/s1600/512px-Andrea_del_Castagno_Giovanni_Boccaccio_c_1450.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg43oXdfJnZkFVGC1KHBR17aKHyo5hGGbtsEQcZIWIA0fKpe9zJbqzmfo_HGLZpocjhtZ8alTjHgGS340Su6KD5wHEgbdqZTZhyi4SaIEZ08CXytPWFwbxNWWjn0euncOcqyZ_QMEjc8-yg/s320/512px-Andrea_del_Castagno_Giovanni_Boccaccio_c_1450.jpg" width="204" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Boccaccio</td></tr>
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</h3>
<h3>
Fortuna in Boccaccio</h3>
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Giovanni Boccacio draws on Boethius for his concept of Fortune's double nature in his lesser known works. Of his masterpiece, the <i>Decameron</i>, Teodolinda Barolini writes, "The <i>Decameron</i> could be pictured as a wheel - Fortune's wheel, the wheel of life - on which the <i>brigata</i> turns, coming back transformed to the point of departure."<br />
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The tales told on Day 2 of the <i>Decameron</i> especially seem to depend on the unpredictability of Fortune (cf. Andreuccio).<br />
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Vincenzo Cioffari observes, "In Boccaccio this disinterested tranquility of Fortune is substituted by a mischievous and interested cunning... In the <i>Decameron</i> the primary function of Fortune is to determine the outcome of a course of action..."<br />
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Boccaccio, says Cioffari, does not limit himself to discussing wealth and power as Fortune's sole currency, but adds to them the idea of sensual pleasures.<br />
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Still, Boccaccio sees Fortune as an instrument of Divine Will. As Cioffari says, "Far from being blind it has a hundred eyes because, although its activity may not be apparent to Man, it is carrying out the Divine Will just as much as Nature."<br />
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Boccaccio's Fortune is a capricious woman, ever-changing, whimsical. <br />
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<h3>
Fortuna in Machiavelli</h3>
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Unsurprisingly, Niccoló Machiavelli's concept of Fortune is less noble than Dante's and less playful than Boccaccio's. You could almost describe it is cynical, or perhaps - Machiavellian.<br />
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Here is the famous passage from <i>The Prince</i> concerning Fortune:<br />
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
It is not unknown to me how many men have had, and still have, the opinion that the affairs of the world are in such wise governed by fortune and by God that men with their wisdom cannot direct them and that no one can even help them... Sometimes pondering over this, I am in some degree inclined to their opinion. Nevertheless, not to extinguish our free will, I hold it to be true that Fortune is the arbiter of one-half of our actions, but that she still leaves us to direct the other half, or perhaps a little less.</blockquote>
(Translation by W. K. Marriott)<br />
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"Half, or a little less." Machiavelli's Fortune is a force of nature, but human beings are not entirely helpless against her:<br />
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
I compare her to one of those raging rivers, which when in flood overflows the plains, sweeping away trees and buildings, bearing away the soil from place to place; everything flies before it, all yield to its violence, without being able in any way to withstand it; and yet, though its nature be such, it does not follow therefore that men, when the weather becomes fair, shall not make provision, both with defences and barriers, in such a manner that, rising again, the waters may pass away by canal, and their force be neither so unrestrained nor so dangerous. (Trans. WKM)</blockquote>
And being Machiavelli, he couldn't let the matter drop without a brief foray into misogyny:<br />
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
For my part I consider that it is better to be adventurous than cautious, because Fortune is a woman, and if you wish to keep her under it is necessary to beat and ill-use her; and it is seen that she allows herself to be mastered by the adventurous rather than by those who go to work more coldly. She is, therefore, always, woman-like, a lover of young men, because they are less cautious, more violent, and with more audacity command her. (Trans. WKM)</blockquote>
Machiavelli's Fortune has a total disregard for human feelings. Her actions appear cruel, but in truth are the result of indifference. She does not favor personal glory and is apt to target the successful, arranging for an ignominious fall just as her victim approaches his goal. She prefers discord among men. Cesare Borgia, for example, was born under a Fortune of "extraordinary and extreme malignity."<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnvChCYiIesqG0Z8bSRNlTThzSA_JJleK9YMS20cLBNVDnSHDwKmGXCRvNCQxsnuTeklBDKdm-zIpqfndYOEIpM56yCcr6iHOGTsK-4twsV508gw827DnHLK6KJmjQaBluRiRWyWrLm96f/s1600/Cesareborgia.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnvChCYiIesqG0Z8bSRNlTThzSA_JJleK9YMS20cLBNVDnSHDwKmGXCRvNCQxsnuTeklBDKdm-zIpqfndYOEIpM56yCcr6iHOGTsK-4twsV508gw827DnHLK6KJmjQaBluRiRWyWrLm96f/s320/Cesareborgia.jpg" width="262" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cesare Borgia</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<h3>
Fortune's Wheel in Theater</h3>
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Here we venture into the area of mechanical wheels. Unfortunately, I've not been able to find illustrations that are both useful and available, so we will have to content ourselves with a couple of descriptions.<br />
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The earliest example is a wheel at the Benedictine abbey of Fécamp in Normandy, around the year 1100. We have a delightful description by a visitor to the abbey, Bishop Balderic of Dol:<br />
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Then, in the same church, I saw a wheel, which by some means unknown to me descended and ascended, rotating continually. At first I took this wheel to be an empty thing, until reason recalled me from this interpretation. I knew from this evidence of the ancient Fathers that the wheel of Fortune - which is an enemy of all mankind throughout the ages - hurls us many times into the depths; again, false deceiver that she is, she promises to raise us to the extreme heights, but then she turns in a circle, that we should beware the wild whirling of fortune, nor trust the instability of that happy-seeming and evilly seductive wheel: concerning these things those wise, ancient doctors have not left us uninstructed. By revealing these things, they have brought us to understanding.</blockquote>
(This translation appears in an article by Alan H. Nelson and is, presumably by him.)<br />
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An enactment of the Wheel, complete with four realistic figures of rising and falling kings, appears in a drama by Adam de la Halle (<i>Jeu de la feuillé, </i>first produced in Arras in 1276).<br />
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Live actors, however, stole the show in a morality play by Antoine Vérard published in 1498 (though performed as early as 1439). In this play, called <i>Bien-Advisé Mal-Advisé</i>, the figures at the <i>Regnabo</i> and <i>Regno</i> positions experience the torments of Hell, while <i>Regnavi </i>and <i>Sine Regno</i> achieve salvation.<br />
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Other examples vary: devils taking the place of kings, children as actors, and an elaborate wheel with a metal mirror at the center, constructed by the versatile Giovanni Cellini, engineer, professional musician, and father of famed goldsmith and diarist Benvenuto Cellini. (Click <a href="http://historicalfictionresearch.blogspot.com/2012/07/dads-sons-2-musician-and-goldsmith.html" target="_blank">here</a> for an earlier blog post about this father-son pair.)<br />
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In 1515, the city of Bruges held a pageant in honor of Charles V, Count of Flanders and future emperor. Judging by his portraits, Charles had a somewhat unusual chin:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRzSpwQBXhNKvEkY2Qlx7JFD33Ol_qwSErfP0dcUn8-2qO_Rov0MGYeHmO-DbYKuuH_mUgdwQn0xqp5CSXiIo25YC5TocN_SMlQXg8b3ZYI9TbmrYZXYzQpQMgPMOfTb5s4bYsSFVqxN5s/s1600/512px-Bernhard_Strigel_003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRzSpwQBXhNKvEkY2Qlx7JFD33Ol_qwSErfP0dcUn8-2qO_Rov0MGYeHmO-DbYKuuH_mUgdwQn0xqp5CSXiIo25YC5TocN_SMlQXg8b3ZYI9TbmrYZXYzQpQMgPMOfTb5s4bYsSFVqxN5s/s320/512px-Bernhard_Strigel_003.jpg" width="256" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Guess which one?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
Be that as it may, the pageant featured a Wheel of Fortune with two Virtues in attendance, who were able to assist the young monarch in bringing the Wheel to a standstill. A second Wheel in another part of the pageant featured Extravagance, the god Mars, the City of Bruges (played by a woman), and Negotiation.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFt593kub6zXrdtWkxMdkOTmfY1GkL3XQKjB9vqlLcc9NBTRu0ZgEuhnzkajfQ9Q_sS4NKnJjixZmtbP3PiqMdSuz_W9I2N2PF0c2Y-XBPncxeV5J_BXmQ-DkbpzgXvxk2m-Rp7ZiYzCII/s1600/591px-Cooper_The_Pageant_at_Bruges.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="259" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFt593kub6zXrdtWkxMdkOTmfY1GkL3XQKjB9vqlLcc9NBTRu0ZgEuhnzkajfQ9Q_sS4NKnJjixZmtbP3PiqMdSuz_W9I2N2PF0c2Y-XBPncxeV5J_BXmQ-DkbpzgXvxk2m-Rp7ZiYzCII/s320/591px-Cooper_The_Pageant_at_Bruges.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A later pageant at Bruges</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<h3>
The Wheel of Fortune in Shakespeare</h3>
<br />
It has been said that Shakespeare's history plays draw heavily on the idea of the Wheel, particularly the Richard II - Henry IV - Henry V sequence, with Richard on top in the <i>Regno</i> position at first, and Bolingbroke occupying the <i>Regnabo</i> spot.<br />
<br />
Raymond Chapman, a Shakespearean scholar, notes all the "up and down" imagery in those plays, which he calls "a relentless alternation of rise and fall." Or, as Richard himself says, "Conveyors are you all, that rise thus nimbly by a true king's fall."<br />
<br />
Minor digression: Shakespeare is not the only English playwright to use this concept. His predecessor William Collingbourne (1435-1484), in his <i>Mirror for Magistrates</i>, says this:<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
We knowe, say they, the course of Fortunes whele,<br />
How constantly it whyrleth styll about,<br />
Arrearing nowe, whyle elder headlong reele,<br />
Howe all the riders alway hange in doubt.<br />
But what for that? We count him but a lowte<br />
That stickes to mount, and basely like a beast<br />
Lyves temperately for feare of blockam feast.</blockquote>
<br />
Collingbourne was no friend to King Richard III, and is in fact known for posting a scurrilous couplet on the door of St. Paul's Cathedral in July of 1484. It read as follows:<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
The Catte, the Ratte and Lovell our dogge<br />
rulyth all Englande under a hogge.</blockquote>
(That would be William Catesby, who had a white cat on his device; Richard Ratcliffe; and Francis Viscount Lovell, who had a silver wolf as his emblem. The hogge, of course, is Richard himself, whose badge bore the white boar. Not coincidentally, Collingbourne was executed for treason that same year.)<br />
<span style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></span>
<br />
<h3>
<span style="font-weight: normal;"><b>More modern Wheels of Fortune</b></span></h3>
<br />
<span style="font-weight: normal;">Probably the context in which we see the Wheel most often these days is in the Major Arcana of the Tarot deck. Here are some fairly venerable examples:</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-weight: normal;"><b> </b></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfwm2Y1u0m5kAiJADZ_5VbkPufKrUZ0aYoD22Wyg1otYPK3mxYpKsX6YYaf3ktdj1mkzbd0eZdnBhR0-gIO5B2HoFwIdlKCTo-jbcpWqykH3B-Gg7EH6nR3KY9CBmRdq0wVrE8BELUHGaB/s1600/10_-_La_Roue_de_Fortune.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfwm2Y1u0m5kAiJADZ_5VbkPufKrUZ0aYoD22Wyg1otYPK3mxYpKsX6YYaf3ktdj1mkzbd0eZdnBhR0-gIO5B2HoFwIdlKCTo-jbcpWqykH3B-Gg7EH6nR3KY9CBmRdq0wVrE8BELUHGaB/s320/10_-_La_Roue_de_Fortune.jpg" width="160" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0mg-uBOdrfWmjhyc5b2OFJbO2QCHu0AoyyEFkzxN1ZCY-qKJnZ0Z7J0aBpxoO6X-o2ycHhEV4qqPT5b_R9RIN9_tAAJfPMwsUFjDHnvzBy8RwagkGwQaSUoE7neeD78f1WqowlpYACrRk/s1600/Minchiate_card_deck_-_Florence_-_1860-1890_-_Trumps_-_09_-_La_Ruota_della_Fortuna.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0mg-uBOdrfWmjhyc5b2OFJbO2QCHu0AoyyEFkzxN1ZCY-qKJnZ0Z7J0aBpxoO6X-o2ycHhEV4qqPT5b_R9RIN9_tAAJfPMwsUFjDHnvzBy8RwagkGwQaSUoE7neeD78f1WqowlpYACrRk/s320/Minchiate_card_deck_-_Florence_-_1860-1890_-_Trumps_-_09_-_La_Ruota_della_Fortuna.jpg" width="194" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWzVhIZ81HXca-DRdmJRccMNBuEj6nA4GiSETiORZpQzYn3bP1xHQuTXIGPy3bBjC8UKOIy4w-AX7l_w6w5mbxcoqUv-oGhCdYpVr3JUHbNyloNEzOJboZMn-upn-uYy5HSkJrdSndn0dS/s1600/Piedmontese_tarot_deck_-_Solesio_-_1865_-_Trump_-_10_-_Wheel_of_Fortune.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWzVhIZ81HXca-DRdmJRccMNBuEj6nA4GiSETiORZpQzYn3bP1xHQuTXIGPy3bBjC8UKOIy4w-AX7l_w6w5mbxcoqUv-oGhCdYpVr3JUHbNyloNEzOJboZMn-upn-uYy5HSkJrdSndn0dS/s320/Piedmontese_tarot_deck_-_Solesio_-_1865_-_Trump_-_10_-_Wheel_of_Fortune.jpg" width="183" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="font-weight: normal;">And finally, let me leave you with the thing most people today think about when we refer to the Wheel of Fortune:</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-weight: normal;"><b> </b></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKbXOcx-T7bntroyF4PkR_ThqA4Tw-SqmweN4gzBWyGvC9HSsdNFreeKrEOcaJGps7oyol5G89RKURm1iPyGYNTSLAY6pongVMdgyKzrj3h9Sb4n06QFBO_36wu1YtOfKc77oQHDnqh17N/s1600/USMC-10361.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKbXOcx-T7bntroyF4PkR_ThqA4Tw-SqmweN4gzBWyGvC9HSsdNFreeKrEOcaJGps7oyol5G89RKURm1iPyGYNTSLAY6pongVMdgyKzrj3h9Sb4n06QFBO_36wu1YtOfKc77oQHDnqh17N/s320/USMC-10361.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<h4>
</h4>
Tinney Heathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18383946402836289511noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4025295042007800999.post-50937165967735050692017-01-01T12:10:00.000-08:002017-01-01T12:10:16.883-08:00The Wheel of Fortune (Part 1 of 2)<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNVXVUgl7MVT-D4k13gHR40-VP-GlmjkoDZWnSr4aEhflXeRyf5wtA-AaP5goECz-aCve7wDXbJSKs-E-yEikv1W1AKWK3Ol0V6qfc48rjEfx2RNtj90nBtxBEmDgrer-0ogANeKXoUBnI/s1600/L%25E2%2580%2599Hortus_Deliciarum.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="365" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNVXVUgl7MVT-D4k13gHR40-VP-GlmjkoDZWnSr4aEhflXeRyf5wtA-AaP5goECz-aCve7wDXbJSKs-E-yEikv1W1AKWK3Ol0V6qfc48rjEfx2RNtj90nBtxBEmDgrer-0ogANeKXoUBnI/s400/L%25E2%2580%2599Hortus_Deliciarum.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<br />
<h4>
Luck, be a lady.</h4>
<br />
It would be hard to overstate the importance of Boethius's great work, <i>The Consolation of Philosophy</i>, among scholars in the middle ages and Renaissance. This profoundly influential book was written in the year 523 while the author was in prison awaiting trial (and execution the following year) on charges of treason against the Roman king Theodoric the Great.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR7okz0qzW2JJvmYCsCr0sb7wASoO6d9yDrjMpR7pR3CDKyDX6z6jrIvPoZOS-XckXFR0nb40WwRuJxbP6jPjimUaovLqVhyh-_BNL2ceLfYrpMRf9RkOfQOxZz9O_2d4hqVO_FCyl5Rz2/s1600/Boethius02.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR7okz0qzW2JJvmYCsCr0sb7wASoO6d9yDrjMpR7pR3CDKyDX6z6jrIvPoZOS-XckXFR0nb40WwRuJxbP6jPjimUaovLqVhyh-_BNL2ceLfYrpMRf9RkOfQOxZz9O_2d4hqVO_FCyl5Rz2/s320/Boethius02.jpg" width="214" /></a></div>
<br />
Ancius Manlius Severinus Boethius, senator and consul, senior administrator to the king, translator, scholar, and philosopher, took the idea of Fortune and her wheel from earlier sources, but it was through his book that the motif became omnipresent throughout the middle ages. His influence can be traced through Dante, Boccaccio, Machiavelli, and even Shakespeare. The lady and her spinning disk (or sometimes orb) have a rich history in the visual arts, as well as in literature, theatre, and music.<br />
<br />
Over the centuries she has remained controversial, as scholars debate whether she flies in the face of Free Will, or whether she is an agent of God's often inscrutable plan for mankind. Either way, those who ride the wheel up to the heights of worldly wealth and success are just as apt to ride it back down to ruin and devastation. The Wheel is never at rest.<br />
<br />
The Wheel is often depicted as showing an aspiring monarch on the left, climbing toward the top; a crowned monarch at the top; a third toppling down on the right, with the crown falling off; and the fourth on the ground, crownless, or even crushed beneath the Wheel. Illustrations often label these quarters <i>regnabo, regno, regnavi,</i> and <i>sum sine regno</i>, respectively (I shall reign, I reign, I have reigned, and I am without a kingdom). This fairly early version reverses the <i>regnabo</i> and <i>regnavi</i> positions:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdG140sh4X_I1R5upWu-sj9DVfaTsncGn4jelbTZ_o9KE9QYr6yF2EAAjIkFo76LSjINvDahyphenhyphena7pYLrn6xkSt3GZNN7SIIVL9cxQm2qsBtJ3F6nisPNWThWnXMrQxkJBc0JmAQ9pv_YpUq/s1600/512px-Wheel-of-fortune-12th-century-rylands-lat-ms83.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdG140sh4X_I1R5upWu-sj9DVfaTsncGn4jelbTZ_o9KE9QYr6yF2EAAjIkFo76LSjINvDahyphenhyphena7pYLrn6xkSt3GZNN7SIIVL9cxQm2qsBtJ3F6nisPNWThWnXMrQxkJBc0JmAQ9pv_YpUq/s320/512px-Wheel-of-fortune-12th-century-rylands-lat-ms83.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<h4>
Consolation of Philosophy</h4>
<h4>
</h4>
The premise of Boethius's book is that he, the disconsolate prisoner, who is in the process of losing every comfort, honor, possession, and vestige of safety he has ever had, is moping in his prison cell when he finds himself suddenly visited by an allegorical Lady - none other than the formidable Lady Philosophy herself.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivpVvGkQlH9HQddr7v97fBXnBQ1VBlnDnMxQvlSrRS_j7JDFqa-RZtO4KNmwbNAvEr00t935PthTnlH1B1pik-BQoZbpQ19C9JKsJcpbZc2lYaIMMgzp82lLMSHcIYrr_uaXYfWosesT3s/s1600/Philosophia-ladder-of-liberal-arts-leipzig-univ-bibl-lat-1253-f3r-c1230.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivpVvGkQlH9HQddr7v97fBXnBQ1VBlnDnMxQvlSrRS_j7JDFqa-RZtO4KNmwbNAvEr00t935PthTnlH1B1pik-BQoZbpQ19C9JKsJcpbZc2lYaIMMgzp82lLMSHcIYrr_uaXYfWosesT3s/s400/Philosophia-ladder-of-liberal-arts-leipzig-univ-bibl-lat-1253-f3r-c1230.jpg" width="250" /></a></div>
<br />
Lady Philosophy urges Boethius to reject the wiles of Fortune. She takes it upon herself “to press home to the prisoner his need to reject power,
wealth, and status in favor of the true good of wisdom,” as Seth Lerer observes in his introduction to David R. Slavitt’s
translation. (She also shoos the Muses away, on the grounds that they are distracting the prisoner from the task at hand.)
<br />
<br />
"Fortune, of course, is a monster,” Philosophy observes, and Boethius is hardly in a position to disagree. “She toys with those
for whom she intends catastrophe, showing her friendly face and
lifting them up before dashing them down when they are least prepared
for it.… you think that Fortune’s attitude toward you has
changed. But you’re wrong. She hasn’t changed a bit. She was
always whimsical, and she remains constant to her inconstancy. You
were wrong to take her smiles seriously and to rely on them as the
basis for your happiness. Now, what you have learned is that the
changing face of blind power is unreliable – and always was.”
<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhypK1J0rKI12lX8rVvBiJK4gGEjXAMw4loDueDP2bIVEFG2hjQgWeni-1_Ke7I2AC_E2MqUGg8796h2K4bKrAaDTpzZGjXkAn73Baw7D0JZN8KWGRRq69euCqEdWB7a4Vafh4i5Vh1MucV/s1600/Boethius-philosophia-bsb-cod-lat-2599-f106v-c1200.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhypK1J0rKI12lX8rVvBiJK4gGEjXAMw4loDueDP2bIVEFG2hjQgWeni-1_Ke7I2AC_E2MqUGg8796h2K4bKrAaDTpzZGjXkAn73Baw7D0JZN8KWGRRq69euCqEdWB7a4Vafh4i5Vh1MucV/s400/Boethius-philosophia-bsb-cod-lat-2599-f106v-c1200.jpg" width="281" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Boethius and Philosophia</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Shifting to verse later in the chapter, she continues thus:
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
With an indifferent
hand she spins the wheel,
<br />
and one or another
<br />
number comes up
lucky, while the only constant
<br />
is change…
<br />
It’s a game she
plays and a demonstration of
<br />
ruthless power,
<br />
a way to keep her
devotees in a total subjection.
</blockquote>
(All Boethius quotes translated by David R. Slavitt.)<br />
<br />
<h4>
Classical origins</h4>
<br />
However influential Boethius may have been to later centuries, Fortuna and her wheel predated him. Worship of the Roman goddess Fortuna dates back to the earliest days of Rome, and she may have been derived from an even earlier goddess of the tribes of Latium, the area where Rome was founded.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQqDyngonWQ7LcgytcUlRMoRbr4cdUMusLL5bsIJ3qAOa1HS2GhUy-blxFa-fLQE0o4-1Ubp9edLcdBiwHkTAcGEu_u4NQfIb7cfxPBxb5kbFyv50JIi39zGT8bSIh4ag4N1S9E7_pU6Nk/s1600/Statue_of_Fortuna_Nemesis.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQqDyngonWQ7LcgytcUlRMoRbr4cdUMusLL5bsIJ3qAOa1HS2GhUy-blxFa-fLQE0o4-1Ubp9edLcdBiwHkTAcGEu_u4NQfIb7cfxPBxb5kbFyv50JIi39zGT8bSIh4ag4N1S9E7_pU6Nk/s320/Statue_of_Fortuna_Nemesis.jpg" width="177" /></a></div>
<br />
Her name may be rooted in the Latin word meaning "to bring, to receive, to give." Alternatively, it may come from the Etruscan goddess Voltumna (possibly related to the Roman goddess Volumna). Voltumna had to do with the turn of the seasons, not unlike the spinning of Fortuna's wheel. Volumna protected children, while Fortuna predicted the fate of children at their birth, particularly firstborn children, in her aspect of Fortuna Primigenia. She has also been linked with the Egyptian goddess Isis via an amulet found in Pompeii, with the Greek goddess Tyche, and with another Etruscan deity, Nortia.<br />
<br />
This little household deity depicts Fortuna with some of the same iconographic devices as both Tyche and Isis:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7k4S4SBUtpfrsxbRgPzutmfECMzIW7ObevuMpIQymvKQyhalt_ntlNx1o4ODwweYrW9CK7SFzXCaqDpFrOZqC109rcTeaAERpcJK-IPNyMIDo0BTGz0RUCgnzxSFLzw_oDxIr6wsG84lI/s1600/Roman_-_Isis-Tyche-Fortuna_-_Walters_571480.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7k4S4SBUtpfrsxbRgPzutmfECMzIW7ObevuMpIQymvKQyhalt_ntlNx1o4ODwweYrW9CK7SFzXCaqDpFrOZqC109rcTeaAERpcJK-IPNyMIDo0BTGz0RUCgnzxSFLzw_oDxIr6wsG84lI/s320/Roman_-_Isis-Tyche-Fortuna_-_Walters_571480.jpg" width="174" /></a></div>
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Fortuna had temples in Rome at a very early date. Her cult may have begun with Ancus Marius, the fourth king of Rome (642-617 BCE), or possibly with Servius Tullius, the sixth king of Rome (575-535 BCE) and the second of the Etruscan kings. Servius Tullius erected the first Roman temple to Fortuna, where her cult was celebrated on Midsummer's Day and her festival on June 11, but her greatest temple was the oracle and sanctuary at Praeneste (now Palestrina), not far from Rome. The oracle there involved a young boy who picked out a fortune from among many written on oak rods.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDKAu3Xus-nhi9RYW2QnAH2FLyAFcSpS5ZSC-iM9RsnjWIT3Y_6QGFYC7YF8kYseInaa1sLJQT9BXICz8nsV3gKz51UUaGI3CR1OtvwTGeYeAydy_rPNxJwwiRgcWcQqpqkBQljoFaTXMU/s1600/Servius_by_Rouille.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDKAu3Xus-nhi9RYW2QnAH2FLyAFcSpS5ZSC-iM9RsnjWIT3Y_6QGFYC7YF8kYseInaa1sLJQT9BXICz8nsV3gKz51UUaGI3CR1OtvwTGeYeAydy_rPNxJwwiRgcWcQqpqkBQljoFaTXMU/s200/Servius_by_Rouille.jpg" width="198" /></a></div>
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A little digression about that Etruscan king of Rome, Servius Tullius: He ruled Rome for over 40 years, riding high on Fortune's wheel, but the day came when the wheel moved again, to his detriment and at lightning speed. This picture shows his daughter Tullia (not exactly Daddy's little girl) running over her father with her chariot, in a successful bid to seize the kingship for her husband. Servius Tullius thus moved through <i>regnabo</i> to <i>regno</i> and stayed there a long time, and then quite precipitously tumbled through <i>regnavi</i> to arrive at <i>sum sine</i> <i>regno</i> (or perhaps even one step further, to whatever the Latin word is for "smooshed"). Tullia, meanwhile, was concentrating hard on <i>regnabo.</i><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTBe9bpwQ-CbnYv8vmt9yJWC-0srkEcCvGzWamjJyMhzYHSpp41wGcIs9hDI-Chdb0TflUmERNjirvNsOOtpzBk5v9J-QFAYKVdklmaR-K0xIuxZxRBE6HUA20wcEBPC0-4-3d1n8ZqUia/s1600/Tullia%252C_Tochter_des_Servius_Tullius.jpeg.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTBe9bpwQ-CbnYv8vmt9yJWC-0srkEcCvGzWamjJyMhzYHSpp41wGcIs9hDI-Chdb0TflUmERNjirvNsOOtpzBk5v9J-QFAYKVdklmaR-K0xIuxZxRBE6HUA20wcEBPC0-4-3d1n8ZqUia/s400/Tullia%252C_Tochter_des_Servius_Tullius.jpeg.jpeg" width="310" /></a></div>
<br />
Classical writers added to Fortuna's fame. In 55 BCE, Seneca has the chorus of his tragedy <i>Agamemnon</i> address the goddess, in a remarkable speech that has a lot in common with "Uneasy lies the head that wears the crown." It includes this:<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Whatever Fortune has raised on high, she lifts but to bring low. Modest estate has longer life; then happy he whoe'er, content with the common lot, with safe breeze hugs the shore, and, fearing to trust his skiff to the wider sea, with unambitious oar keeps close to land.</blockquote>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh61mbdjQnFXmwwF6l0PIf2jj369pZBkXHnLrk-Gq6X2aYXWb24LNgNdPoJqzh6eRtC7hZQHgHXz2P8o817zu4PpLK9QBHzHMJKsD1MTb43v9SxpHxC9Ajo4mITNwnUzJi6Jp9v64p-bc-b/s1600/Seneca.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh61mbdjQnFXmwwF6l0PIf2jj369pZBkXHnLrk-Gq6X2aYXWb24LNgNdPoJqzh6eRtC7hZQHgHXz2P8o817zu4PpLK9QBHzHMJKsD1MTb43v9SxpHxC9Ajo4mITNwnUzJi6Jp9v64p-bc-b/s320/Seneca.jpg" width="222" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Seneca</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Ovid, in a letter, refers to Fortuna as "the goddess who admits by her unsteady wheel her own fickleness; she always has its apex beneath her swaying foot."<br />
<br />
Early churchmen couldn't ignore her, either. We find St. Augustine of Hippo (354-430) casting her as essentially an employee of God. Since God knows the cause of every event, though man does not, all things are part of his plan, and Fortuna is therefore working in harmony with God's will. We will see more along these lines in Part 2 of this post, when we get to Dante.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8KZio5Hhu2_HGHF0WAAPuDMXx_giE8j_NE4W5YZVjRNBbfzXGCUQOGaIu1XfpGmldxIeqST1k-hW745DC23fDVo2-fZYi_cwlTycqfAS7HosCE8-LRA-zKqF6ipgWcTA10yeqcdfdKWl9/s1600/Saint_Augustine_of_Hippo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8KZio5Hhu2_HGHF0WAAPuDMXx_giE8j_NE4W5YZVjRNBbfzXGCUQOGaIu1XfpGmldxIeqST1k-hW745DC23fDVo2-fZYi_cwlTycqfAS7HosCE8-LRA-zKqF6ipgWcTA10yeqcdfdKWl9/s320/Saint_Augustine_of_Hippo.jpg" width="188" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">St. Augustine</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<h4>
The Iconography of Fortune</h4>
<h4>
</h4>
We've seen a few portrayals of Fortuna, but there are many more, displaying quite a variety of features. Some of the earliest depictions show the goddess atop the wheel, turning it with her feet; others show her treading on an orb, like a trained circus animal, trying to keep her balance. Here's a late treatment of this idea:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4SIg_SMVH8ZNo-m8uNownuaHfxhjeBsWMCGzlQXOrnz1lbRB4Ywzw4_FxVVxa6qLbfsDidW0zfj8v7qZU1r6kghPWzVsXDf4aCe8HqW9HAOvSXeyf6r_W8Qo40jGzdHYAVFOEOZWItmzS/s1600/ADurerFortunaengraving.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4SIg_SMVH8ZNo-m8uNownuaHfxhjeBsWMCGzlQXOrnz1lbRB4Ywzw4_FxVVxa6qLbfsDidW0zfj8v7qZU1r6kghPWzVsXDf4aCe8HqW9HAOvSXeyf6r_W8Qo40jGzdHYAVFOEOZWItmzS/s320/ADurerFortunaengraving.jpg" width="219" /></a></div>
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After around 1100, though, Fortuna acquires some stability, and it is only the hapless humans mounted on her wheel who suffer from a lack of equilibrium.<br />
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Fortuna's wheel was sometimes turned by a crank, sometimes by her hand. In some cases it is not obvious how the wheel is being turned. In an interesting article, "Mechanical Wheels of Fortune 1100-1547," Alan H. Nelson observes that early illustrations suggest the model for the wheel was not a simple cartwheel, but rather a mill wheel, or perhaps a spinning wheel. He also says that early depictions tend to show mechanical details, but later pictures are more abstract.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizAvRiNIhL-64iewtWOP5csm02UGtEZdWUvrcQoGV8anDx-YyTNdrlo-Kbyb961W_Uz-uUI_dlUvfzHsp9aE3GVuPdkfyzI9gNx2WekKA0xPUNfBRgjDexXuFGu8fwV2OvWgWf7l9rfM73/s1600/Danse-aveugles-fortune-arsenal-r%25C3%25A9serve-ms-5113-f12v-1486.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizAvRiNIhL-64iewtWOP5csm02UGtEZdWUvrcQoGV8anDx-YyTNdrlo-Kbyb961W_Uz-uUI_dlUvfzHsp9aE3GVuPdkfyzI9gNx2WekKA0xPUNfBRgjDexXuFGu8fwV2OvWgWf7l9rfM73/s400/Danse-aveugles-fortune-arsenal-r%25C3%25A9serve-ms-5113-f12v-1486.jpg" width="257" /></a></div>
<br />
Fortuna herself may be shown as two-faced, with one side light and the other dark (or one side frowning and the other smiling), or as blinded or blindfolded. This latter characteristic she shares with illustrations of Justice, but unlike Justice, Fortuna never holds a scale: fairness, in the human sense, is not what drives her.<br />
<br />
She is associated instead with such motifs as the cornucopia, the rudder, and, of course, the wheel itself.<br />
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Sometimes the humans on Fortuna's wheel are shown as specific individuals: Croesus, or Boethius himself, or, as in this illustration, Tancred the king of Sicily at the bottom of the wheel and his nemesis Henry VI, king of the Romans, at the top:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCppjB9nnfRVsM1DHMpp4jHR2PzS0f4-HibS8W_FJpcVQUUqdziYjuM81ki4Wlztqi4p4mowtgk3up-U4RzNFZGPfCf4uQbwT4uKtSBVijgGg4l9Y2_Qv6pWGFDEHn9SLAwP1ctSBsa4Ss/s1600/Fortuna_Tankred_Jindra6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCppjB9nnfRVsM1DHMpp4jHR2PzS0f4-HibS8W_FJpcVQUUqdziYjuM81ki4Wlztqi4p4mowtgk3up-U4RzNFZGPfCf4uQbwT4uKtSBVijgGg4l9Y2_Qv6pWGFDEHn9SLAwP1ctSBsa4Ss/s320/Fortuna_Tankred_Jindra6.jpg" width="223" /></a></div>
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I won't go into Tancred's story here, though his unfortunate habit of capturing the wives of his opponents does tempt me. I'll just note that he was a small man, which apparently earned him the nickname "Tancredulus" thanks to the poet Pietro of Eboli. (I can think of one other possibility for that name. Richard I of England is said to have given Tancred a sword he claimed was Excalibur itself, as a gesture of friendship. That would seem to involve a certain level of credulity.)<br />
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The fall of Troy is another historical event often associated with the Wheel:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifcZ0sxSu-3A-NkOPO0dJjTNAk074EuU6vDaxt86Hcc4Yr6xF03ECflFTx6-vl5sNAtRzF0SNDQby-ccuPMznMG3axJ-ojbst9437slAyQ5ssqCaxofDMuIMucMUNwSNOAvHkSAxJTGXTk/s1600/Lydgate-siege-troy-wheel-fortune-detail.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="346" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifcZ0sxSu-3A-NkOPO0dJjTNAk074EuU6vDaxt86Hcc4Yr6xF03ECflFTx6-vl5sNAtRzF0SNDQby-ccuPMznMG3axJ-ojbst9437slAyQ5ssqCaxofDMuIMucMUNwSNOAvHkSAxJTGXTk/s400/Lydgate-siege-troy-wheel-fortune-detail.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<br />
Usually those who ride the wheel are men, but once in a while you find a woman, as here:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWtYpxbL8uWctoZV7_C-YHZIwr67AKAQokYkT2cGSb6Sg-iuJnqFaMol7bxvKXzqlLMvf_Mizs3-lbdVbwgRUklonPoshOWRWRw5YANAb3zKZbVJwLzYKkJfL7uKNcytrlqTLXnK3KakGc/s1600/564px-FortuneWheelcropped.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWtYpxbL8uWctoZV7_C-YHZIwr67AKAQokYkT2cGSb6Sg-iuJnqFaMol7bxvKXzqlLMvf_Mizs3-lbdVbwgRUklonPoshOWRWRw5YANAb3zKZbVJwLzYKkJfL7uKNcytrlqTLXnK3KakGc/s400/564px-FortuneWheelcropped.jpg" width="376" /></a></div>
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There's more to say about Fortuna and her wheel, but it will have to wait until my next post. Come back in a week or two (I hope...) to read about Fortuna as she appears in Dante, Boccaccio, and Machiavelli; in the English playwrights; in theatrical performances and processions; and in medieval song, such as Carmina Burana.<br />
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Tinney Heathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18383946402836289511noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4025295042007800999.post-54135825471258237062016-12-05T12:56:00.002-08:002016-12-05T12:56:34.367-08:00Slut-Shaming in the Trecento (and, Poison)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy5jOtaN9VHKcgn7sBy136jk-PhGN4jqzg7YXXa8DQBFlwd3MsYO-6xaMi-gSysomDJQNqRwKQu8uM0hmWmEWwSJKHVqPlNm0YmO512ZL5iOUo8kqcKEeljLcGDObVU0m1B9_c6xmXI544/s1600/Woman_Dispensing_Poison_from_the_Legend_of_Saint_Germain_of_Paris.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy5jOtaN9VHKcgn7sBy136jk-PhGN4jqzg7YXXa8DQBFlwd3MsYO-6xaMi-gSysomDJQNqRwKQu8uM0hmWmEWwSJKHVqPlNm0YmO512ZL5iOUo8kqcKEeljLcGDObVU0m1B9_c6xmXI544/s400/Woman_Dispensing_Poison_from_the_Legend_of_Saint_Germain_of_Paris.jpg" width="247" /></a></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<h3>
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">(or: How to Distinguish Fake News Six and a Half
Centuries Before Snopes)</span></h3>
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">Your
long-AWOL blogger is back, once again bringing you more than you ever
wanted to know about the middle ages in Italy. Today we will probe an
instance of research serendipity and how it turned up a whole slew of
fascinating medieval guys ‘n gals we would otherwise never have
known much about, despite the lurid tabloid-style coverage they got
from the chroniclers of their day. </span>
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9TuhzpYZxISrEyhWeQa4cPtdCO-c4V4DqrKOMr4FaBD1fZdx9f5Nn8raISWcPvFCn6kc5ekwyEe7uOsrtjIFnGKKaeCg6iDC3-fVBM1QXc67XgbRgigTpHv0yukaVZCqGGtKkuOnN_lyf/s1600/Jacopo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="257" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9TuhzpYZxISrEyhWeQa4cPtdCO-c4V4DqrKOMr4FaBD1fZdx9f5Nn8raISWcPvFCn6kc5ekwyEe7uOsrtjIFnGKKaeCg6iDC3-fVBM1QXc67XgbRgigTpHv0yukaVZCqGGtKkuOnN_lyf/s320/Jacopo.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jacopo da Bologna</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">I'm part of a trio that performs medieval music, and I was doing some background reading on fourteenth-century Italian composers prior to our recent concert, when I found the following snippet in a biographical sketch of Jacopo da Bologna, written by M. Thomas Marrocco:</span></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">Subsequent events in the conjugal
life of Luchino Visconti would have us believe that the atmosphere of
the court became surcharged with tension, suspicion, deceit, and
finally murder.</span>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.49in;">
<br /></div>
</blockquote>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">Hmm.
I think maybe there’s a story here.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">The
musician in me said, “Well, that’s interesting. I wonder which of
these pieces Jacopo wrote while he was in Milan.”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">But
the novelist in me said, “Whoa! Murder? Conjugal life? Tension,
suspicion, and deceit? I need to know more about all of this!”</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAlDaS3yBXrxLVW0FB2NQShmjxBF21KNL_fLkjTIgvy9IsS7wIw66WStQObKhBBk35w1zybEvkwlHpwDhPEICVBUbcIqjkKVYAP5N2ZqsSdrp7ZEQa45RRk2FzEUxSeU26K5tUPMFWAMUa/s1600/Pulp-O-Mizer_Cover_Image.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAlDaS3yBXrxLVW0FB2NQShmjxBF21KNL_fLkjTIgvy9IsS7wIw66WStQObKhBBk35w1zybEvkwlHpwDhPEICVBUbcIqjkKVYAP5N2ZqsSdrp7ZEQa45RRk2FzEUxSeU26K5tUPMFWAMUa/s320/Pulp-O-Mizer_Cover_Image.jpg" width="209" /></a></div>
<div align="center" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">Whereupon
my inner musician raised her hands, palms out, backed away slowly,
and said, “Fine. You do that. I’ll just go practice a bit, shall
I?” Meanwhile, my inner novelist was digging in.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">First
I read further. I found a quote from a Milanese archivist and
historian, Luigi Osio, which elaborated a bit on what Marrocco had
said (translation is, I think, Marrocco’s):</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">After almost 10 years of
administration, he [Luchino] died suddenly at the age of 57 years on
January 24, 1349, not without suspecting, however, that his wife
[Isabella], fearing death at his hands, he being convinced of her
infidelity, had had him poisoned.</span>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.49in;">
<br /></div>
</blockquote>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhehLvN1Rw2fVScIgKe_I7_3vECN3JnDJ6osQQXrP_n92Zlq8Ph93rNRtwq5aU-mMoSk4BFjsOEJ7_7xD4hlSIOQiDkVdAGtcTBdhtd69cbv0sxEW1tUtKSo_oMkzDT3BR5qthuNMjSKuls/s1600/Visconti%252C_Luchino_%252812.._1349%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhehLvN1Rw2fVScIgKe_I7_3vECN3JnDJ6osQQXrP_n92Zlq8Ph93rNRtwq5aU-mMoSk4BFjsOEJ7_7xD4hlSIOQiDkVdAGtcTBdhtd69cbv0sxEW1tUtKSo_oMkzDT3BR5qthuNMjSKuls/s320/Visconti%252C_Luchino_%252812.._1349%2529.jpg" width="226" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Luchino Visconti</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div align="center" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">The
plot thickens. Infidelity? Sudden death? Poison? I am intrigued.
However, I also experience my first little hiccup of skepticism: it
was summer of 1348 that the Black Death ravaged Italy, and a sudden
death in January 1349 might not, in fact, be all that surprising. I
mean, lots of people were doing that. It had become A Thing.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">But
let’s see what others have concluded. On a whim, I picked up
Barbara Tuchman’s book <i>A Distant Mirror: The Calamitous 14</i><sup><i>th</i></sup><i>
Century</i><span style="font-style: normal;">, since this incident
sounded sufficiently calamitous to be in there. And sure enough,
there it was:</span></span></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">Luchino… had been murdered by
his wife, who, after a notable orgy on a river barge during which she
entertained several lovers at once including the Doge of Venice and
her own nephew Galeazzo, decided to eliminate her husband to
forestall his same intention with regard to her.</span>
<br />
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.49in;">
<br /></div>
</blockquote>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVDoz-GYIdeoApRiNFy-iw10i93d4mjJpEPpoQc-QhGvYHeFeaCplUBgn8r-2eSLlyG1FvMTegNY6LdslLdDUu2G4eFakhy1EUz1KXGO8TgxHIH11Rq5AS20x6SVgR1y-Sa5rmoSOigZO0/s1600/Codex_Manesse_319r_Niune.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVDoz-GYIdeoApRiNFy-iw10i93d4mjJpEPpoQc-QhGvYHeFeaCplUBgn8r-2eSLlyG1FvMTegNY6LdslLdDUu2G4eFakhy1EUz1KXGO8TgxHIH11Rq5AS20x6SVgR1y-Sa5rmoSOigZO0/s320/Codex_Manesse_319r_Niune.jpg" width="218" /></a></div>
<div align="center" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.49in;">
</div>
<div align="center" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.49in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;">Lots
of material here. First, I love that reference to a “notable orgy.”
Would that be as opposed to her usual run of the mill everyday
orgies? And the Doge of Venice? Izzy was clearly not slumming, here.
And her own nephew? What was </span><i>that</i><span style="font-style: normal;">
about? And </span><span style="font-style: normal;">on </span><span style="font-style: normal;">a
river barge? This makes the Viking River Cruises look downright tame.
</span></span>
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">It
was time to do some serious poking around.</span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"> </span>
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><b>What
the chroniclers say happened</b></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">The
overall story, as best I can patch it together from various sources
which tend to disagree on dates and certain details, is this:</span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">In
or around the year 1331, Luchino Visconti, a Ghibelline nobleman in
line to become lord of Milan and already lord of Pavia, wed Isabella
Fieschi, a Genoan noblewoman from a Guelf family and a niece of Pope
Adrian V. The wedding was celebrated with such pomp and ostentation
that historical re-enactors do it all over again every year. Here’s
a<b> <a href="http://www.italive.it/Eventi_Folkloristici_Rievocazioni_Storiche/7771/matrimonio-tra-isabella-fieschi-e-luchino-visconti" target="_blank">link</a></b> to a picture of one such recent reenactment.</span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmpqXrxEEN9gi0d13p1xvhuvIBRkWEDSc4mVM_ghlfnsvJbG7fwPNHJ1SMW8qLbb4NQ2XfwinSv90DNnWSXoCtonB-VMl5XQ1DZs-tAAreOZjr0ROp-SdmemYyClD2g_BWkgDJvlM-A3ow/s1600/Papa_Adriano_V.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmpqXrxEEN9gi0d13p1xvhuvIBRkWEDSc4mVM_ghlfnsvJbG7fwPNHJ1SMW8qLbb4NQ2XfwinSv90DNnWSXoCtonB-VMl5XQ1DZs-tAAreOZjr0ROp-SdmemYyClD2g_BWkgDJvlM-A3ow/s1600/Papa_Adriano_V.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pope Adriano V (Isabella's Uncle Ottobuono)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: left;">
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">It
was Luchino’s third marriage, Isabella’s first. She was much his
junior. She was said to be beautiful, lighthearted, and exuberant. He
was said to be easily offended and someone who never laughed, and in
fact had a prominent frown line etched deeply into his forehead. He
was the father of two illegitimate sons, but he had no legitimate
heirs. Luchino and his brother Giovanni, an archbishop, shared the
lordship of Milan after their father Matteo I Visconti died in 1339,
but Giovanni left most of the secular leadership to Luchino. </span>
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHwogiX6g0x9RR9qEfe2xXkFTLa9shbQnJs4WbIDI4tcrx7KhdvACFP2hizJNYphG38zjWd-7rQ1ErLTrD7zJUfcAs3n14IGYPPXHE6LBhEQIm8y9jUAmgMiEwA7d0NQrjZOJPXrEe87xb/s1600/Visconti%252C_Giovanni_%25281290-1354%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHwogiX6g0x9RR9qEfe2xXkFTLa9shbQnJs4WbIDI4tcrx7KhdvACFP2hizJNYphG38zjWd-7rQ1ErLTrD7zJUfcAs3n14IGYPPXHE6LBhEQIm8y9jUAmgMiEwA7d0NQrjZOJPXrEe87xb/s320/Visconti%252C_Giovanni_%25281290-1354%2529.jpg" width="228" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Giovanni Visconti</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div align="center" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">Things
went along well enough, except for the occasional excommunication,
accusation of heresy, territorial dispute, and so on, until 1346
(some sources say 1345, some say 1340), when Luchino learned of a
plot against him. The conspiracy was spearheaded by a nobleman,
Franceschino Pusterla, whose wife Margherita may or may not have been
Luchino’s mistress. Unfortunately for Visconti family unity, also
involved were Luchino’s three nephews, Matteo, Bernab<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">ò,
and Galeazzo. Luchino had Franceschino hunted down and killed along
with his young son </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">or
sons</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">, and exiled the three
nephews. Nobody is quite sure what happened to Margherita, but we’ll
get back to her later.</span></span>
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">After
sixteen childless years, at long last, in August of 1346, twin sons
were born to Isabella and Luchino. The composer Jacopo da Bologna
wrote a celebratory madrigal on the occasion of the baptism of little
Giovanni and Luca Novello [“Junior”], and you can listen to it <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r2ce6o02Nhc" target="_blank">here</a>.</span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">In
1347, Isabella obtained her husband’s permission to travel to
Venice, so that her little boys could be blessed in San Marco. She
set off by boat, flaunting a level of ostentation that rivaled her
wedding 16 years earlier. She was accompanied by musicians, jesters,
cooks, waiters, servants, and a bevy of lovely female attendants,
and people stood on the banks of the waterway to applaud as her boat
passed by.</span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">So
far, so good. If the chroniclers are right (and I am not convinced of
this), she then made a teensy little error of judgment, and went on a
boat ride with three fine gentlemen – Ugolino Gonzaga, Andrea
Dandolo (the Doge of Venice), and her nephew Galeazzo (remember him,
from the conspiracy?). She is said to have entertained them in a way
not entirely consistent with her marriage vows.</span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">This
incident coming to the ears of her husband (not too surprising
considering all those jesters and cooks and musicians and ladies),
Luchino flew into a rage and vowed to kill her in various unpleasant
ways, which he had a reputation for being good at. However, in
January of 1348 he died suddenly, and it was said by many that
Isabella had poisoned him, so maybe she was even better. She became
known as “Isabella del Veleno” - Isabel of the Poison. </span>
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh72hwnCh8T6yqJLV0MNpGQD1du10bxk7J9csFkz_fSGuo3kbCbVXs6Bdtjzvp2sXSFFjsQthFrYhCAfUCRIURl4VXAoWDRNB5iHCHl2cqNvbfBIF7Lwnky1jDRyfSmbLO4GxNX-8hklju3/s1600/Carlo_Crivelli_017.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh72hwnCh8T6yqJLV0MNpGQD1du10bxk7J9csFkz_fSGuo3kbCbVXs6Bdtjzvp2sXSFFjsQthFrYhCAfUCRIURl4VXAoWDRNB5iHCHl2cqNvbfBIF7Lwnky1jDRyfSmbLO4GxNX-8hklju3/s320/Carlo_Crivelli_017.jpg" width="78" /></a></div>
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</div>
<div align="center" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">She
then tried to set herself up as regent for her son Luchino Novello
(little Giovanni had died by this time, as so many medieval infants
did), but her late husband’s brother Giovanni checkmated this
effort, declaring Luchino Novello to be not only illegitimate, but
the son of Luchino’s nephew Galeazzo (remember Galeazzo?) and
therefore ineligible for the succession. Giovanni still didn’t
really want to deal with Milan himself, so he called back his trio of
nephews, banished by Luchino after the conspiracy, and gave the
lordship of the city over to Matteo, Bernab<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">ò</span>,
and – you guessed it – Galeazzo. What’s sauce for the goose
apparently is not sauce for the gander.</span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">Isabella
lived with her remaining now-disinherited son for several years under
house arrest in Milan, in a Visconti property on Via Romana, and
finally escaped to the relative safety of her family’s castle,
Castello Savignone. Luchino Novello grew up to be a condotierro,
never on particularly good terms with Milan; his mother presumably
died at some point in the Castello. (If you are wondering how the
Visconti managed to treat a pope’s niece in this way, note that
Pope Adrian V - born Ottobuono Fieschi - was elected to the papacy
many years earlier, in 1276, long before Isabella was born. Also he
was a very short-lived pope, reigning for only a little over a month
before he died.)</span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8xOWvJMfs38uRL4bf_3f5P-8Gs8yMsQysabyA_huiSd7kTWtQmyoLv_Bwym0RXnkOehUdnPPoEtH-gFic0m0T1enQl_op11nwLfpOnENdPBxOWxwx0dVekwWMZOpu10o8bZY3gS3-tw8x/s1600/Savignone-castello_in_restauro1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8xOWvJMfs38uRL4bf_3f5P-8Gs8yMsQysabyA_huiSd7kTWtQmyoLv_Bwym0RXnkOehUdnPPoEtH-gFic0m0T1enQl_op11nwLfpOnENdPBxOWxwx0dVekwWMZOpu10o8bZY3gS3-tw8x/s320/Savignone-castello_in_restauro1.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Savignone-castello_in_restauro1.jpg" target="_blank">Castello Savignone (being restored) - licensed to Davide Papalini via the Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported license, Wikimedia Commons</a></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">It’s
impossible to do this kind of research without turning up various
fascinating tidbits. They may not be relevant, but they’re fun, so
here are a few of them, presented briefly.</span>
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGFIpKYU2jVHITP4JzoaMM1GBY4O7oHJK1Thlh2Vo-H1oSULpqfmXyxT4XuDfRaCw55GnsynZbmnFrp_w-4-LmpB1YqpHc_c52qb-W4MReNJk_J67a9L_J0qbED9FrOxYBBP5xPSs3bUKR/s1600/Urach_Schloss_Palmensaal_14.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="223" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGFIpKYU2jVHITP4JzoaMM1GBY4O7oHJK1Thlh2Vo-H1oSULpqfmXyxT4XuDfRaCw55GnsynZbmnFrp_w-4-LmpB1YqpHc_c52qb-W4MReNJk_J67a9L_J0qbED9FrOxYBBP5xPSs3bUKR/s320/Urach_Schloss_Palmensaal_14.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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</div>
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<br /></div>
<div align="left" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">Visconti coat of arms</span></b></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">The
blue snake eating a red person is one of the most dramatic devices we
see in medieval Italy. The Visconti motto, “Vipereos mores non
violabo,” apparently translates to something like “I will not
violate the snake’s uses.” The Visconti might well have been the
sort of folks that would find lots of uses for snakes. Apparently one
of their ancestors had killed a marauding snake that bit children.</span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">Matteo
(not the nephew, but Luchino’s father)</span></b></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">At
one point Matteo was accused by Pope John XXII of conspiring with
none other than Dante Alighieri to commit necromancy. It doesn’t
seem to have come to much, but still, pretty wild stuff. He was also
accused of adhering to the Cathar heresy.</span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjktAJm5nQnlQSl6kCw0TTrcRUW8dOt6UiHKQFkygNkcbt6MCcOGmcMFThp_iAbhnrGadqEfQ18lZXsuMmaMYpyBbRkfvO-IkTBgw8Fvp1rkw5AEEkBbD4Yl6ag5L-11xdJCYnApPLPpZ7Y/s1600/Bust_of_Andrea_Dandolo._Panteon_Veneto%253B_Istituto_Veneto_di_Scienze%252C_Lettere_ed_Arti.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjktAJm5nQnlQSl6kCw0TTrcRUW8dOt6UiHKQFkygNkcbt6MCcOGmcMFThp_iAbhnrGadqEfQ18lZXsuMmaMYpyBbRkfvO-IkTBgw8Fvp1rkw5AEEkBbD4Yl6ag5L-11xdJCYnApPLPpZ7Y/s320/Bust_of_Andrea_Dandolo._Panteon_Veneto%253B_Istituto_Veneto_di_Scienze%252C_Lettere_ed_Arti.jpg" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Bust_of_Andrea_Dandolo._Panteon_Veneto;_Istituto_Veneto_di_Scienze,_Lettere_ed_Arti.jpg" target="_blank">Bust of Andrea Dandolo (Istitute Veneto di Scienze, Lettere ed Arti)</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div align="center" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">Andrea
Dandolo</span></b></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;">The
Venetian doge-on-the-boat </span></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;">was
a friend and patron of the great poet Francesco Petrarca. Still a
young man, Dandolo had a lot to deal with. Even before the plague hit
his city, Venice had been through a major famine and a disastrous
earthquake, the latter striking on the 25</span></span><sup><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;">th</span></span></sup><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;">
January 1348. And the plague hit Venice hard, killing perhaps
three-fifths of the population (around 45,000 – 50,000 people) and
completely wiping out perhaps fifty noble families. Maybe he needed a
boat ride and a little R&R.</span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
That's Doge Andrea Dandolo at the foot of the cross.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;"></span></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;"></span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;">U</span></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;">golino
Gonzaga</span></span></b></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">This
third man-on-the-boat, the one who wasn’t a doge or Isabella’s
nephew by marriage, was a contottiero. His third wife, whom he
married in or around 1349, was Caterina Visconti, daughter of Matteo
Visconti (one of the conspiratorial nephews).</span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggt2V-9HsC-2GVl3ABKtayE02rWnaRZNN3REwaKNuFbuRCAE-RD-ZsYKKXxgSob1eLJgFRniRbh7-ZRFNGsX_TAmYTCEr_Jw0mUQBeYPlPrTGW-ukVSHFl41BEu9GT5YLZQAk1F3OCZ94T/s1600/An_episode_during_the_plague_at_Milan_Wellcome_M0000796LIC.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggt2V-9HsC-2GVl3ABKtayE02rWnaRZNN3REwaKNuFbuRCAE-RD-ZsYKKXxgSob1eLJgFRniRbh7-ZRFNGsX_TAmYTCEr_Jw0mUQBeYPlPrTGW-ukVSHFl41BEu9GT5YLZQAk1F3OCZ94T/s320/An_episode_during_the_plague_at_Milan_Wellcome_M0000796LIC.jpg" width="281" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:An_episode_during_the_plague_at_Milan_Wellcome_M0000796.jpg" target="_blank">An episode during the plague at Milan (Wellcome Images)</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: left;">
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: left;">
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: left;">
<b><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">The
plague in Milan</span></b>
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">According
to E.L. Knox, in The Black Death, “In Milan, to take one of the
most successful examples, city officials immediately walled up houses
found to have the plague, isolating the healthy in them along with
the sick.” Draconian, but apparently effective. And not something
that could have happened without the full agreement of Luchino.</span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj5Kx5Ewib4CoyHN0kWqw2XS2nApuDm4GMEC-we_9Gv7yd9PYBGaW_4o6xYNr_mzttukrOtGeBiKVLxCY7FefuF6kA-jhyjv1fXnyPWkLQal72qAQd8qs74o5l8PVihpXuNzw2Z-W3bAQV/s1600/Visconti%252C_Galeazzo_II.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj5Kx5Ewib4CoyHN0kWqw2XS2nApuDm4GMEC-we_9Gv7yd9PYBGaW_4o6xYNr_mzttukrOtGeBiKVLxCY7FefuF6kA-jhyjv1fXnyPWkLQal72qAQd8qs74o5l8PVihpXuNzw2Z-W3bAQV/s320/Visconti%252C_Galeazzo_II.jpg" width="227" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Galeazzo Visconti</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div align="center" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1Gyys2LYw5h5nVcIWkfXt7jvHODkzj5gV7L9hnYDOKqyb6T_q5kMAQkWv110n1rLFR9AwHERDPiCeI8dpOAyZn_5_HkJZYABRugHL0q_KzaqFLpZajq0owPHj4l5y5_pvmWTmtNYLWRLd/s1600/Petrarch.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1Gyys2LYw5h5nVcIWkfXt7jvHODkzj5gV7L9hnYDOKqyb6T_q5kMAQkWv110n1rLFR9AwHERDPiCeI8dpOAyZn_5_HkJZYABRugHL0q_KzaqFLpZajq0owPHj4l5y5_pvmWTmtNYLWRLd/s320/Petrarch.jpg" width="206" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Francesco Petrarca</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<b><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"> </span></b><br />
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">Galeazzo
II Visconti</span></b></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;">Luchino’s
nephew, supposedly Isabella’s lover and the father of her son</span></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;">s</span></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;">,
and one of the men on the infamous boat, Galeazzo II was known for
his sponsorship of writers and intellectuals, including Petrarca; </span></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;">for
establishing the University of Pavia;</span></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;">
and also for his introduction of the Querasima torture protocol, in
which a victim slated for death was tortured over a forty-day period,
each torment carefully calibrated to cause maximum pain while keeping
the condemned person alive over that extended period. </span></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;">It
featured a day of torture followed by a day of recuperation, and
involved the rack, the wheel, flaying, eye-gouging, cutting off
facial features and limbs, and the strappado. </span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;"> </span></span>
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">Luchino</span></b></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">He
may have been known as a tyrant, but he apparently loved his dog.
Luchino was an avid hunter, and the hunting hound called Varino was
featured in more than one madrigal written for his court. Luchino was
also a great castle builder.</span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">Luchino
Novello</span></b></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">He
eventually married Luisa Adorno, daughter of another Venetian doge,
Gabriele Adorno. He was probably only about ten years old when he and
his mother escaped from their Milanese imprisonment.</span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">Margherita
Pusterla</span></b></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;">Margherita,
born a Visconti, was a cousin of Luchino’s. Many believe that she
was also his mistress. She was married to Franceschino Pusterla,
author of the conspiracy against Luchino, who, when the plot was
uncovered, attempted to flee, but was captured and executed. Some
believe that Margherita tried to flee with him and was also caught
and killed; others believe she managed to escape. A legend says that
she was walled up alive in </span></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;">the
Castello di Invorio by order of Luchino, and on dark nights her ghost
can be heard screaming for help from this tower:</span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtCmhMHfAPlFDch1FmrE15fGylDvpyevBxvvx7kuVRDrRnT9n6EfF9DP9q9TRARuYHRrM1dCUKm7A_stCxOtOKxdwEF0ppb5KTsXvukp-vlqXfAwuzCC0DDu0gTX2T9Q79D0Zflma4Xdl6/s1600/Fig_40%252C_castello_di_invorio_inferiore%252C_torre%252C_p152%252C_foto_nigra%252C_nigra_il_novarese.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtCmhMHfAPlFDch1FmrE15fGylDvpyevBxvvx7kuVRDrRnT9n6EfF9DP9q9TRARuYHRrM1dCUKm7A_stCxOtOKxdwEF0ppb5KTsXvukp-vlqXfAwuzCC0DDu0gTX2T9Q79D0Zflma4Xdl6/s320/Fig_40%252C_castello_di_invorio_inferiore%252C_torre%252C_p152%252C_foto_nigra%252C_nigra_il_novarese.jpg" width="233" /></a></div>
<div align="center" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</div>
<div align="center" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;">Margherita
captured the imagination of the writer Giovanni Cesare Cant</span></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;">ù</span></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;">
(1804-1895), who wrote a novel about her despite being a political
prisoner at the time, deprived of writing implements. He told her
story by writing on rags with a toothpick and candle smoke.</span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnSglTxNMb7uLMrJFf96ZUi23gcV9dGG-VORs6pyCJ_Faxw50ZVOqrhlAN7V_-LI5ilHCvRBB8SzMi_WyXvmJ6cF_cnYNKX7hF8sMzhnGyGOec2f953kOKC2H2G_8F9U5kud4A7rDGgXuR/s1600/Portrait_of_Cesare_Cant%25C3%25B9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnSglTxNMb7uLMrJFf96ZUi23gcV9dGG-VORs6pyCJ_Faxw50ZVOqrhlAN7V_-LI5ilHCvRBB8SzMi_WyXvmJ6cF_cnYNKX7hF8sMzhnGyGOec2f953kOKC2H2G_8F9U5kud4A7rDGgXuR/s320/Portrait_of_Cesare_Cant%25C3%25B9.jpg" width="251" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;"></span></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;">Cesare Cant</span></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;">ù</span></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;"></span></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: left;">
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;">The
composer Giovanni Pacini wrote an opera in 1856 about the unfortunate
Margherita, based on Cant</span></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;">ù’s
</span></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;">novel</span></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;">.</span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjbWyCArhve3A7RfwcLaroZLv1p5-VneuQQD_blEfJ2DFEEWPH24-mvMn3uftU0OthUZ_4BCdtA7DFyRpHUUb6D47kIDfebRUEht5AvaQzhQs7SEMU-XYTOFVxhj7RWIH_VK1Lo-n9FTRn/s1600/51w6whElFDL._SX324_BO1%252C204%252C203%252C200_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjbWyCArhve3A7RfwcLaroZLv1p5-VneuQQD_blEfJ2DFEEWPH24-mvMn3uftU0OthUZ_4BCdtA7DFyRpHUUb6D47kIDfebRUEht5AvaQzhQs7SEMU-XYTOFVxhj7RWIH_VK1Lo-n9FTRn/s320/51w6whElFDL._SX324_BO1%252C204%252C203%252C200_.jpg" width="209" /></a></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;"> </span></span>
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">Jacopo
da Bologna</span></b>
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;">Remember
Jacopo? That’s how this whole project got started. In addition to
several madrigals extolling Luchino and his beautiful wife, written
while employed at the court in Milan, Jacopo </span></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;">later
</span></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;">wrote
a piece about a beautiful, once-loving woman who had turned into a
poisonous viper. Anybody we know, do you think? By the time this one
was written, Jacopo had moved on to Verona and was working for
Mastino II </span></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;">della
Scala</span></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;">,
yet another nephew of Luchino. </span></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;">Isabella’s
guilt may have been the official family position.</span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">And
finally, last but never least, <b>Isabella Fieschi</b> herself. Is all this
scuttlebutt true? The chroniclers insist that it is, but I am not so
sure. It seems unlikely to me that she would take that huge entourage
of people off to Venice and then hold an all-too-public orgy on her
husband’s boat. I mean, would that really be prudent? Considering
Luchino’s reputation? But it is exactly the sort of rumor that
would spread like wildfire with the help of just a bit of malicious
gossip. </span>
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;">So
we have Isabella, still beautiful but no longer young by medieval
standards (assuming she was around 15 when she married, she would
have been in her early thirties by this time), and just having lost
one of her two sons, and probably glad enough to be out from under
her dour husband’s scrutiny for a while. </span></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;">B</span></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;">ut
even if she chose to kick up her heels a bit, is it likely she would
have risked everything in that way? I can’t make myself believe it.
</span></span>
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">Also,
at least some chroniclers suggest that the conspirators were exiled
perhaps as early as 1340, which would have made it rather difficult
for Galeazzo to father Isabella’s sons. But perhaps the exile did
happen in the same year as the birth, which would have made his
paternity at least possible.</span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;">Did
Isabella have enemies? Well, sure – she was from Genoa, and the
Genoans and the Milanese were at each other’s throats often enough.
She was from a Guelf family, he was Ghibelline. And remember the
conspiracy? Anyone who had sympathized with Franceschino Pusterla’s
attempted coup might well have held a grudge against </span></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;">Isabella
or other members of the family. (I wonder, how did Margherita and
Isabella feel about each other? Were they rivals? Friends? Was
Margherita Luchino’s mistress, and/or did Isabella believe she
was?)</span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">Another
thing to consider is the fact that Isabella gave birth to twins. In
the middle ages, many people believed that twins were evidence that
the mother had been unfaithful – that two fathers were involved.
Could it be that giving birth to twin boys sixteen years after she
was married was what sealed her fate?</span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPjeg-i4AtbEz7efSSTymTO8u4kr45DvvebmjmascOI_bk2zBdWhlEZ7IpPUE0Biw_m-eA9oJjj320u6lKH-uOe2VALsf6t57UEGqdiU36LWx8Jn4kkgKnzs2KRSpMHhiSiv-BzIycxVqp/s1600/512px-De_Wikkellkinderen.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPjeg-i4AtbEz7efSSTymTO8u4kr45DvvebmjmascOI_bk2zBdWhlEZ7IpPUE0Biw_m-eA9oJjj320u6lKH-uOe2VALsf6t57UEGqdiU36LWx8Jn4kkgKnzs2KRSpMHhiSiv-BzIycxVqp/s320/512px-De_Wikkellkinderen.jpeg" width="233" /></a></div>
<div align="center" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</div>
<div align="center" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">We
don’t even know when Isabella returned to Milan. If she was aware
of her husband’s anger and lethal intentions, would she have gone
back? And yet she was placed under house arrest in Milan, so at some
point she did go back. Presumably she did so to push her son’s
claim to the lordship of the city, once Luchino was dead. But it
seems highly unlikely that she was there to poison her husband in
person, not that it would have been difficult to find and hire a
surrogate. However, any of Luchino’s many enemies might have seen
an opportunity to off him and see her take the blame.</span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;">If
Izzy didn’t have Luchino poisoned (assuming he didn’t die of the
plague), then who did? We need to ask, along with Cicero and many
another ancient jurist, “Cui bono?” Who profits? Presumably, one
or all of the three brothers who eventually took Luchino’s place:
Matteo, </span></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;">Bernab</span></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;">ò,
</span></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;">and
the ubiquitous Galeazzo. (Just offering up an alternative theory
here.)</span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">One
doesn’t have to look back six and a half centuries to find examples
of a prominent woman brought down by gossip and innuendo. I can’t
prove it (not that the chroniclers are particularly heavy on proof
either), but I think she was maligned unfairly. She was bright enough
to escape from house arrest in Milan; how could she also have been
dumb enough to destroy her future and her son’s for a moment of
frankly unlikely lasciviousness? </span>
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">And
even if she was, does that make her capable of murder? Pretty much
every male in the family had proved his murderous proclivities over
and over, but all we know of Isabella is that she was a pretty woman
who loved pleasure.</span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">We’ll
never know. But my position, for what it’s worth, is that history
has not been fair to Isabella Fieschi.</span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
Tinney Heathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18383946402836289511noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4025295042007800999.post-76440090185139420652016-04-08T06:49:00.000-07:002016-04-08T06:49:04.513-07:00Stage fright<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeNLGYKZKInj8N46ut2LLr17-b2wXeWMNNzv8HsCtWhgjK6qq55F9nrX2ExvL0I8dkQVAvkyPZX9RQjqDCzFZ9h3sZm0ZC7aNuGFXH-2m4_PE4rGRdI_9DroBims1xl1T-BYc7R9Je7KMd/s1600/%2527The_Scream%2527%252C_undated_drawing_Edvard_Munch%252C_Bergen_Kunstmuseum.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeNLGYKZKInj8N46ut2LLr17-b2wXeWMNNzv8HsCtWhgjK6qq55F9nrX2ExvL0I8dkQVAvkyPZX9RQjqDCzFZ9h3sZm0ZC7aNuGFXH-2m4_PE4rGRdI_9DroBims1xl1T-BYc7R9Je7KMd/s400/%2527The_Scream%2527%252C_undated_drawing_Edvard_Munch%252C_Bergen_Kunstmuseum.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
It's been very Yeatsian out there lately. A glance at any newspaper, or my Facebook feed, is enough to give rise to despair, or at the very least acute anxiety. I've already bailed from Twitter and I can't believe Facebook is very far behind. It's a mess out there, folks, and I wish I were less sensitive to it.<br />
<br />
Yeats, in his post-WWI poem The Second Coming, articulated it:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Turning and turning in the widening gyre<br />
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;<br />
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold...</blockquote>
And I must admit I relate to another observation in the same work:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
The best lack all conviction, while the worst<br />
Are full of passionate intensity.</blockquote>
It's hard not to wonder with Yeats "what rough beast, its hour come round at last, slouches towards Bethlehem to be born."<br />
<br />
So, like many others, I've been dealing with a continual low-level angst of late, and recently it's been exacerbated by stage fright as I contemplated the upcoming debut concert by our new trio, specializing in medieval instrumental music.<br />
<br />
I've always been prey to stage fright. It can be crippling, and it's certainly one of the main reasons I didn't pursue a career in music. My hands get shaky, I can't get warm, my breathing is shallow, and I am prone to doing extremely dumb things at the worst possible times.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7V0YZPDlQZE9G_loa60K6NYP0AtTRimR_S4NaKUCEufqVGyMxMR4LSyLXyiZ_o3CiTpmFkm7MirBUYuB6aac8jsNdwqSaU55OkpA-43LvJ8gUakyDnemEaSELPNCzukkY3Fz76eo_wtK4/s1600/MnV_160326_3368_COPY.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7V0YZPDlQZE9G_loa60K6NYP0AtTRimR_S4NaKUCEufqVGyMxMR4LSyLXyiZ_o3CiTpmFkm7MirBUYuB6aac8jsNdwqSaU55OkpA-43LvJ8gUakyDnemEaSELPNCzukkY3Fz76eo_wtK4/s320/MnV_160326_3368_COPY.jpg" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me hiding behind my instrument at the concert</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
The other two members of the trio, my husband Tim and our friend Stacy, are luckier. They were relaxed and calm and thoroughly capable.<br />
<br />
Must be nice.<br />
<br />
We did make it through, in spite of me, and nothing particularly disastrous occurred. It was even kinda fun, as it turned out. But somehow, in the weeks before the performance, the two threads (anxiety about the state of the world, and performance nerves) came together, and the result was this poem:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
Stage fright</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Because I played badly, the world exploded.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Because I missed my cue, refugees chose the wrong moment to cross the border.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Because I faltered, villagers did not escape their burning huts.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
This morning there was no review.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Because there was no review, prisoners spent another day without charges, without rights, without hope.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Because I lost my place, scores of families trudged toward makeshift camps.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Because my fingers trembled, victims shook with fear.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Because I was timid, gangs roamed the streets terrorizing the helpless.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Because I played without conviction, politicians lost all their convictions.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Because a man coughed, thousands died of a preventable disease.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Because a woman rushed out in search of a bathroom, a tsunami destroyed the coast.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Because the program had a typo, a scandal broke in the media and lives were ruined.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Because at one point the microphone shrieked feedback, somewhere a woman screamed.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
There was a bloodthirsty ovation at the end, with cries of "Encore!"</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Please hold your applause.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
</blockquote>
<br />
<br />Tinney Heathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18383946402836289511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4025295042007800999.post-26564891593729860282016-02-20T10:53:00.000-08:002016-02-20T10:53:36.195-08:00Recreating the past - from the sublime to the ridiculous<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3S5jdCbyO1iPfyfdfjJ7rCv77jAM8-ORyU61cjX1tBt0TxHYmYi0hzrWiwv4tENNRQdz_fsCqxAt8EMntYGzeO3kZgmRUWIr2lOlb90OeJEg0FQ4CByhArKs_ABGLgAs2v8124A4kPE6A/s1600/DufayBinchoisvert.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3S5jdCbyO1iPfyfdfjJ7rCv77jAM8-ORyU61cjX1tBt0TxHYmYi0hzrWiwv4tENNRQdz_fsCqxAt8EMntYGzeO3kZgmRUWIr2lOlb90OeJEg0FQ4CByhArKs_ABGLgAs2v8124A4kPE6A/s640/DufayBinchoisvert.jpg" width="324" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
When my husband and I decided to re-create this famous portrait of 15th century composers Guillaume Dufay and Gilles Binchois, little did we know just how carried away we were going to get.<br />
<br />
Simple, I thought. Just put on a bathrobe or something, strike a pose, and there you go. After all, we had the requisite instruments: my portative organ, Tim's harp. And the picture, which is a miniature in a French manuscript, is not very detailed.<br />
<br />
But one thing led to another, and another, and... pretty soon we had cleared our living room, experimented with camera and tripod angles, drafted a friend (Linda Wendt) to take the actual photograph, and gathered the components of our costumes, which included a long dress, a SCA tunic, a beanie, and a hand towel.<br />
<br />
The conversation went something like this:<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Linda: I don't think Dufay would be wearing earrings. </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Me: Oh, right. (off go the earrings) Is my scarf all right? </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Linda: Tuck in your hair. There you go - that's better. </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Tim: How about my towel? </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Linda: Yep, looks just like Binchois's towel. </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Tim: Maybe he had just gotten out of the shower. </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Me: Maybe so. I'll have to stand behind the organ or it won't all fit in the picture.</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Tim: My harp is about twice the size of Binchois's. </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Me: Why is Dufay pointing at Binchois's kneecap, do you think? </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Linda: I don't know, but you do realize those two guys are supposed to be the same height, don't you? </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Me: Well, our version of Dufay is 5'1" and our Binchois is 6'3". There's not much we can do about that. </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
[At this point, Binchois starts mugging and doing "Live long and prosper" with his right hand, and Dufay cracks up. Considerable session time is lost before Dufay can once again keep a straight face. At last Linda snaps the picture.]</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Linda: Got it. What do you think? The picture in the camera is too little, and I can't see it.<br />
<br />
Tim: Let me look. I've got my glasses on. Oops - that means Binchois was wearing glasses. Oh, well.</blockquote>
<br />
But getting the picture was only half the battle, if that. Next came Tim's painstaking (read: obsessive) computer work to come ever closer to the original. First he blanked out the bookcase and assorted other stuff in the background. Then he got the brilliant idea of pasting in the original background, with the composers' names in calligraphy.<br />
<br />
By this time I was hearing maniacal chuckling from the next room, as he went on to discover the joys of replacing our boring blue carpet with the mottled grassy surface Binchois and Dufay were standing on. Outlines had to be cleaned up, details tweaked, and slowly, slowly our masterpiece came into focus.<br />
<br />
And so I present the results to you, dear readers, as an instructive example of either (1) meticulous attention to detail in an act of homage, or (2) relentless persistence in the pursuit of total silliness on the part of three alleged adults, depending on your point of view. Enjoy!<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9ESR66ir2DHXlxImnP2mPAETg1PGo7loDlNS9DQPXuBXk4H0TPYpVzM5rucuH-EOSIn1t_RGkj-yiWln5JsuF3syUJXjShBvSOjwh8pVgTIjaBGo2FxXIa38Z41Fne8JDP1f1r43T3x9Q/s1600/T%252BTDiptychscale.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="202" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9ESR66ir2DHXlxImnP2mPAETg1PGo7loDlNS9DQPXuBXk4H0TPYpVzM5rucuH-EOSIn1t_RGkj-yiWln5JsuF3syUJXjShBvSOjwh8pVgTIjaBGo2FxXIa38Z41Fne8JDP1f1r43T3x9Q/s320/T%252BTDiptychscale.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is what we usually look like.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />Tinney Heathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18383946402836289511noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4025295042007800999.post-34012021993000985482015-06-18T07:34:00.000-07:002015-06-18T07:34:58.801-07:00Framing the Story<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-CF5RIsqQv-1MnA5T-O2MICQyBei8Pc2kyjAYQCLaOTwXZ9DwS1EO8kPfpz-p3DUoHDxB8YUGXVNFMPttPzQh83AXSoRwG6L6doNTlIzhP1nKOb6OOTit953puZcaw6eIIvH8GrUPamuE/s1600/DSC_0152.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-CF5RIsqQv-1MnA5T-O2MICQyBei8Pc2kyjAYQCLaOTwXZ9DwS1EO8kPfpz-p3DUoHDxB8YUGXVNFMPttPzQh83AXSoRwG6L6doNTlIzhP1nKOb6OOTit953puZcaw6eIIvH8GrUPamuE/s640/DSC_0152.JPG" width="424" /></a></div>
<br />
How is a picture frame like point of view in fiction?<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz5dI2Q0VqMyswGyDyfI4jWe_VcIWNr5ZLq1TbZeEtO8oGvGB946gQGYborUTcpwTmSMKItdkQELo380i5EDyD7XvV2yXb4tM4gx9-1WB6wnOoLGfQ2LOHfCPHkmzff00u8pvJpWn2A7r1/s1600/IMG_0439.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz5dI2Q0VqMyswGyDyfI4jWe_VcIWNr5ZLq1TbZeEtO8oGvGB946gQGYborUTcpwTmSMKItdkQELo380i5EDyD7XvV2yXb4tM4gx9-1WB6wnOoLGfQ2LOHfCPHkmzff00u8pvJpWn2A7r1/s320/IMG_0439.JPG" width="240" /></a>I love pictures that provide their own frames. Maybe it's a shot through a window, or maybe the frame is an arch, a doorway, trees, a cave. When we travel and I notice such a potential shot, I always ask my husband the photographer to capture it. I was looking at a collection of these pictures the other day, and it occurred to me that framing a picture in this way directs the <br />
viewer's eye and focuses his attention much as point of view focuses a story for the reader. Rather than trying to encompass everything, it gently points you at something. It tells you where to look and guides your attention.<br />
<br />
I don't usually write about writing. Plenty of people are already doing that, and I don't see myself as an advice-giver. Besides, I don't believe that any two writing projects, let alone any two writers, will work exactly the same way.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsdFVk_c4zpSQTYsZKLauAY5V3Z5Je-hMZ-1A6iChfVX9WpiC1cSOlkiTH2hRH31S37_Bb6BIebteShstK0Xa_omEbFO3QrxBpVN1FaIMctKJZ4JJP-TXR7f0HM9_MTuSnZ9csmz7IfHeK/s1600/DSC_0435scale.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsdFVk_c4zpSQTYsZKLauAY5V3Z5Je-hMZ-1A6iChfVX9WpiC1cSOlkiTH2hRH31S37_Bb6BIebteShstK0Xa_omEbFO3QrxBpVN1FaIMctKJZ4JJP-TXR7f0HM9_MTuSnZ9csmz7IfHeK/s400/DSC_0435scale.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
But I do want to riff a little on the concept of point of view (POV). Not all aspects of it; I don't want to go into the mechanics or the fine distinctions or the how-tos, but I would like to look at a question which ideally would be answered before any serious writing commences. (Though it may take some semi-serious and experimental writing to arrive at an answer.)<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNjDWWxi4q4u-cLpJrGMIl48UjBT-r2x1hw8GdRHQ0tv5VpCAlJRwjD7SNiFWOoYTLMFOcBN7J4Hcq4wR30OzcVI0A1rxaYbGhUgswJBECZhcKpMF_YHy6Nhyphenhyphen4KDh9bIeZZadd6bmawxOI/s1600/DSC_0256.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNjDWWxi4q4u-cLpJrGMIl48UjBT-r2x1hw8GdRHQ0tv5VpCAlJRwjD7SNiFWOoYTLMFOcBN7J4Hcq4wR30OzcVI0A1rxaYbGhUgswJBECZhcKpMF_YHy6Nhyphenhyphen4KDh9bIeZZadd6bmawxOI/s320/DSC_0256.JPG" width="212" /></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilqqkK36G4BYfiMSZPO6RMJMdWuK9-srKNPuUfZb7Fyp3x10yutL4PunYZpHKorGUnGFuPxxZy97Q3ESNcWrNtSFF22DAgdE1PqaMr24WOo8LxvH1Z5MB12BnBZsK0xc3OZwKYnWAHID0D/s1600/DSC_0471.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilqqkK36G4BYfiMSZPO6RMJMdWuK9-srKNPuUfZb7Fyp3x10yutL4PunYZpHKorGUnGFuPxxZy97Q3ESNcWrNtSFF22DAgdE1PqaMr24WOo8LxvH1Z5MB12BnBZsK0xc3OZwKYnWAHID0D/s320/DSC_0471.JPG" width="213" /></a><br />
The question: <b>Whose story is it?</b><br />
<br />
<b> </b>An approach that has become very popular is to take a secondary character, or even a minor character, in a well-known story and tell that person's tale. Examples abound: there's <i>Wide Sargasso Sea</i> by Jean Rhys, about Jane Eyre's unfortunate predecessor; <i>Grendel</i> by John Gardner, in which Beowulf's monster takes center stage; <i>The Wind Done Gone</i>, written from the POV of a slave who was the child of Scarlett O'Hara's father and of Mammy, from <i>Gone With the Wind</i>; <i>Mary Reilly</i> by Valerie Martin, from the POV of a servant in <i>Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde</i>; <i>Finn: A Novel</i> by Jon Clinch, about Huckleberry Finn's father; <i>March</i> by Geraldine Brooks, about the father of Louisa May Alcott's <i>Little Women</i>; and many more.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEl71EwyB37NK7a2sd1o9MoDbhIjIzeR3Faho_SDw108fRdm6Nq5ac4ZamSnQwukQPWKCDwFpMzw71l6Js0V3tJV6o4g8awcR79q4cvorUIF8hlXWrf7Fq5Lb4PDrfu6TVZQkNHxCfrKuY/s1600/DSC_0136.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEl71EwyB37NK7a2sd1o9MoDbhIjIzeR3Faho_SDw108fRdm6Nq5ac4ZamSnQwukQPWKCDwFpMzw71l6Js0V3tJV6o4g8awcR79q4cvorUIF8hlXWrf7Fq5Lb4PDrfu6TVZQkNHxCfrKuY/s400/DSC_0136.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Think of Gregory Maguire's fairytale retellings from an alternate POV: <i>Wicked</i>, <i>Mirror Mirror</i>, and <i>Confessions of an Ugly Stepsister</i>. You'll also find a bewildering array of books based on practically everybody who ever had a speaking part in anything by Jane Austen.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_b53e6aQZHBsMHrHgmy6iT_rP8R6020mNR2KfViHHv7ToVRMeBBm_RyG1SyMMpsyRMKNSIV_DBP5JDTHSqYmrnZMSr74sxGO0e5kKIGGZlabxg99_OfgKM0XI52DT7bevELs_4GhvvxU9/s1600/DSC_0370.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_b53e6aQZHBsMHrHgmy6iT_rP8R6020mNR2KfViHHv7ToVRMeBBm_RyG1SyMMpsyRMKNSIV_DBP5JDTHSqYmrnZMSr74sxGO0e5kKIGGZlabxg99_OfgKM0XI52DT7bevELs_4GhvvxU9/s320/DSC_0370.JPG" width="212" /></a>Two of my favorites are not novels at all, but plays by Tom Stoppard. I am a great fan of his <i>Rosenkrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead</i> (based, obviously, on two minor characters from <i>Hamlet</i>) and <i>Travesties</i>, which is a manic and surreal take on some of<i> </i>the characters from Oscar Wilde's play <i>The Importance of Being Earnest</i>, as well as on Dada, James Joyce, and lots more, and which contains a brilliantly weird scene written entirely in limericks.<br />
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For the historical fiction author, this approach probably means choosing some historical character, or a fictional character who might have existed, in the orbit of somebody well-known. The classic example, of course, is the Tudors: there are now so many Tudor novels that there is probably one out there somewhere written from the POV of Henry the Eighth's barber's wife's dog. <br />
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This may be a matter of "Writer, know thyself." If someone wants to write biographical fiction about well-known people, more power to them -- I have enjoyed many such books. But I can't imagine myself writing about queens or other famous folk as my central subject, or writing from their points of view.<br />
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For myself, I prefer the unexpected, off-to-one-side character who has caught my attention. My first novel, <a href="http://www.amazon.com/A-Thing-Done-ebook/dp/B009Z4WAU0/ref=sr_1_5?ie=UTF8&qid=1351708368&sr=8-5&keywords=Tinney+Heath" target="_blank"><i>A Thing Done</i></a>, tells a true story of a feud among knights in medieval Florence, a marriage contracted to make peace, a jilting, and the homicidal <br />
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aftermath of this assault on knightly honor. But I told it from the point of view of a jester who got dragooned into pulling the prank that set the whole thing in motion. I chose him for two reasons: he was in the best position to observe the people on both sides of the conflict, and also I wondered how he would have felt about his role in the conflict that divided his city.<br />
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To me his story was more immediate and more interesting than the stories that belonged to the squabbling knights, the jilted bride and the chosen one, or the conniving older woman, not least because it enabled me to tell those other stories as well. My marginalized character could tell us all about those rich noble people; had I used one of them as a POV character, what are the chances that he/she would have even noticed the jester?<br />
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My jester only appears in a single line in the earliest chronicle that mentions the event. For some reason, that seems to be the sort of situation that attracts me: someone who had a role in the story, yet who was not considered important enough for contemporary chroniclers to dwell on.<br />
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My work in progress is about Lady Giacoma dei Settesoli, a Roman noblewoman who was an early follower of Saint Francis of Assisi -- an extremely wealthy woman who was improbably a close friend of the saint who considered himself wed to Lady Poverty. Again, the earliest biographies of Saint Francis contain only one or two sentences about her. Yet because of her prominent family, I was able to dig up a surprising amount of information .<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsRFQn8HOjRxC2oY_hp_9pgeESGF0d7D_J-TIi8xROvlLSU_0Tf9b3TsKsFZy1-TXvvERApCwZUPBSPh2C0y0YoO1JqjPtunxGJSvTnecgSLIn-Z5StTuYrgFW0prNkFKbRH1v-h6Us3Go/s1600/DSC_0327.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsRFQn8HOjRxC2oY_hp_9pgeESGF0d7D_J-TIi8xROvlLSU_0Tf9b3TsKsFZy1-TXvvERApCwZUPBSPh2C0y0YoO1JqjPtunxGJSvTnecgSLIn-Z5StTuYrgFW0prNkFKbRH1v-h6Us3Go/s320/DSC_0327.JPG" width="211" /></a>And in another upcoming project, I'm writing from the POVs of seven of the women mentioned by Dante, or in some other way connected with him. Among them: the irascible noblewoman Dante disapproved of; the free spirit and notable lover who he sympathetically assigned to Paradise; his friend's longsuffering wife who sneezed a lot, and who Dante made fun of in an early poem and then obliquely apologized to in the<i> Commedia</i>; the redoubtable mother of his nemesis who he insulted in classic schoolboy fashion in the same series of poems ("Son of we don't know who, until monna Tessa tells us"). I think all of them deserve their say. Plus I'm giving a voice to Gemma Donati, Dante's largely forgotten wife, who never merited a single line in all his writings.<br />
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There's also another question, and it may be that only the writing itself can answer this one: <b>Is it your story to tell?</b><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbc7AaSeWyiOu1ZSnFuEmuheHquxKRvJ7d8V-s1rNCnCjmjvindZ-gw469CzLwyVZhHIeQM0jrh5rXk9JQposNjVHFYSkYN1ecsA45aOadhVnFCflV0NEZWPX11NNKB3dnIp-h5B7N29Nx/s1600/DSC_0415.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbc7AaSeWyiOu1ZSnFuEmuheHquxKRvJ7d8V-s1rNCnCjmjvindZ-gw469CzLwyVZhHIeQM0jrh5rXk9JQposNjVHFYSkYN1ecsA45aOadhVnFCflV0NEZWPX11NNKB3dnIp-h5B7N29Nx/s320/DSC_0415.JPG" width="211" /></a>I had planned to write from the point of view of Dante's beloved Beatrice (pesky poet following her around, that sort of thing), but one day I realized that the real drama was not hers, but belonged to Dante's wife -- the kinswoman of the man who was behind Dante's exile, the woman who raised his children and kept his property together during all the long years of his forced absence from Florence <b> </b>(he was never to return). Where were her loyalties? To her birth family or to her husband, or split between them? How did she like reading her husband's poetic rhapsodies about Beatrice, who was her neighbor and someone she would have seen every day? How did Beatrice's death affect her? How did she feel when her own daughter took the name "Sister Beatrice" when she entered a convent? <br />
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Beatrice's story was not mine to tell. It didn't come alive for me. But Gemma's did.<br />
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I tried to write from the POV of La Compiuta Donzella, an early Florentine poet, but I couldn't do it. I couldn't capture her voice. (I did create a fictional secondary character who I liked a lot and intend to recycle, though, so it wasn't wasted effort.) <br />
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I think we have also to give a nod to the story that is about one individual, but told by another: Sherlock Holmes as told by Dr. Watson, or the story of Jay Gatsby as told by Nick Caraway. The author needs an affinity for the narrating character as well as for the subject, if the voice is to ring true. But perhaps that is a discussion for another time.<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Images in this post, except for the book cover, are all pictures taken in Italy and Greece by my husband, Tim Heath. He retains copyright. (And did you notice that the second picture above was the source of the window on the cover of my book? The cover designer was able to incorporate it.)</span><br />
<br />Tinney Heathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18383946402836289511noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4025295042007800999.post-41771662685581926182015-04-20T14:18:00.001-07:002015-04-20T14:18:30.592-07:00Our Greek Odyssey 4: Malia (and the British Museum)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Meet the kitty who photobombed the ruins of ancient Malia, a Minoan city on Crete. This little charmer appointed herself our guide, and proceeded to show us around in a most proprietary way.<br />
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For anyone wanting to catch up with the earlier three posts in this series, follow these links for posts about <a href="http://historicalfictionresearch.blogspot.com/2015/04/our-greek-odyssey-i-athens.html" target="_blank">Athens</a>; about <a href="http://historicalfictionresearch.blogspot.com/2015/04/our-greek-odyssey-2-nafplio.html" target="_blank">Nafplio, Epidaurus, Tiryns, and Mycenae</a>; and about <a href="http://historicalfictionresearch.blogspot.com/2015/04/our-greek-odyssey-3-crete-siva-knossos.html" target="_blank">Crete (Siva, Knossos, Phaistos, and Aghia Triada)</a>. <br />
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Malia, a Minoan city on the northern edge of Crete and east of Iraklion, was not the last archaeological site we visited, but it was the last major site.<br />
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This last picture is the famous bee pendant, found in Malia and now on display at the archaeological museum in Iraklion. It's an exquisite little piece of intricate goldwork from the middle Bronze Age.<br />
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I've not said much about any of the places featured in these posts, relying mostly on pictures. But if you are interested in such things, I would urge you to seek out information about them. The history is fascinating. I learned a lot about Greece, past and present, in preparation for this trip, but I'm no expert, and I'd suggest that you seek out those who are, because Greek history touches every aspect of western civilization. And for those who have not been paying attention to Greece's current economic and political crises, I would urge you to take a look at that, too - it's a David and Goliath tale with no foregone conclusion.<br />
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<h4>
England </h4>
<h4>
</h4>
So many of the great Greek antiquities have wound up in England that it seemed only appropriate to end our trip with a stop in London and a visit to the British Museum, always one of our favorite places.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwzW4IiHow2FpTSeM2Vada69GmzjWqM1B1XKmE7YPrCIqCHNiJQnYTHcqJ3TGuknT3eELU3AHcxXXDKR-PsEme9WCRfJMzmIb8wacRh1ry_cdGb5k_I2LsAIEYvQEaOoZ7dTTaXkxxywnq/s1600/512px-1868_Lawrence_Alma-Tadema_-_Phidias_Showing_the_Frieze_of_the_Parthenon_to_his_Friends.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwzW4IiHow2FpTSeM2Vada69GmzjWqM1B1XKmE7YPrCIqCHNiJQnYTHcqJ3TGuknT3eELU3AHcxXXDKR-PsEme9WCRfJMzmIb8wacRh1ry_cdGb5k_I2LsAIEYvQEaOoZ7dTTaXkxxywnq/s1600/512px-1868_Lawrence_Alma-Tadema_-_Phidias_Showing_the_Frieze_of_the_Parthenon_to_his_Friends.jpg" height="265" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Phidias showing the frieze of the Parthenon to his friends, Lawrence Alma-Tadema, 1868</td></tr>
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As many of you will recall, there is considerable controversy over whether the so-called Elgin Marbles should remain in their current home in the British Museum, or be returned to Greece. I don't want to go into it here, but here's one (of many) links if you'd like to know more: <a href="http://www.livescience.com/26254-elgin-marbles-parthenon.html">http://www.livescience.com/26254-elgin-marbles-parthenon.html</a><a href="http://www.livescience.com/26254-elgin-marbles-parthenon.html" target="_blank">http://www.livescience.com/26254-elgin-marbles-parthenon.html</a><br />
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The new Acropolis Museum in Athens has rather pointedly left places for these friezes and sculptures, should they ever be returned. Here are two pictures of some of the Parthenon sculptures in the British Museum:<br />
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I'll leave you now with one last image. One decorative theme we encountered over and over again, especially on Crete, was the octopus. (It also turned up in pretty much every restaurant we ate in.) What amused us most was that most of these sea critters are pictured with huge round eyes, communicating utter surprise, as if they are shocked - shocked! - to find themselves decorating pots and vases. So I can't bring this series of posts to an end without providing you with at least one amazed octopus.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWWuym7R19SJTkw4UfC8V2bl0rdEiuBYUji6DAsmnxRyRqknfqgtfoA7u2TociyWLpIFjXtLlRAsPhsHGyqYJivWDLQ1XXig8fwmpoMqFWYzHcM0XYZJjfl_XNx4Wj_k8Z4C2Ce3Yp90VP/s1600/512px-AMI_-_Oktopusvase.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWWuym7R19SJTkw4UfC8V2bl0rdEiuBYUji6DAsmnxRyRqknfqgtfoA7u2TociyWLpIFjXtLlRAsPhsHGyqYJivWDLQ1XXig8fwmpoMqFWYzHcM0XYZJjfl_XNx4Wj_k8Z4C2Ce3Yp90VP/s1600/512px-AMI_-_Oktopusvase.jpg" height="640" width="476" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Images in this post are our own photos or in the public domain, with these exceptions: the <a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Bienen_von_Malia_02.jpg" target="_blank">bee pendant</a> is by Olaf Tausch and licensed to Oltau via the Creative Commons Attribution 3.0 Unported license; the photo of the <a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:BM;_RM18_-_GR,_The_Parthenon_Galleries_1_Temple_of_Athena_Parthenos_%28447-438_B.C%29_%2B_North_Slip_Room,_-Full_Elevation_%26_Viewing_North-.JPG" target="_blank">Parthenon Galleries</a> is by Mujtaba Chohan and licensed to M.chahan via the Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported license; and the picture of the surprised <a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:AMI_-_Oktopusvase.jpg" target="_blank">octopus</a> on the pot is by Wolfgang Sauber, licensed to Xenophon via the Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported license.</span>Tinney Heathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18383946402836289511noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4025295042007800999.post-44067408975493409432015-04-12T11:10:00.000-07:002015-04-12T11:10:22.039-07:00Our Greek Odyssey 3: Crete (Siva, Knossos, Phaistos, Aghia Triada)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgshQAQXgWsn82c4Wi5lON7O8ucpVJfYOuQxcdSM410ewhBMrev_hCb_MYt3DTmt3hyWkX_bYTpAcZuJ06HyY9wotjbXmnkTQIhAg80AWbFipRr-AwmsrRlSrUDi4Kbj0k3X5A8Ob_1BXLr/s1600/DSC_0879scale.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgshQAQXgWsn82c4Wi5lON7O8ucpVJfYOuQxcdSM410ewhBMrev_hCb_MYt3DTmt3hyWkX_bYTpAcZuJ06HyY9wotjbXmnkTQIhAg80AWbFipRr-AwmsrRlSrUDi4Kbj0k3X5A8Ob_1BXLr/s1600/DSC_0879scale.JPG" height="265" width="400" /></a></div>
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This is Part 3 of what is now my four-part post about our recent trip to Greece. (Unless it turns into five parts, which is entirely possible.) If you'd like to read about Athens, see Part 1 <a href="http://historicalfictionresearch.blogspot.com/2015/04/our-greek-odyssey-i-athens.html" target="_blank">here</a>. If you'd like to read about Nafplio, Epidaurus, and Mycenae, see Part 2 <a href="http://historicalfictionresearch.blogspot.com/2015/04/our-greek-odyssey-2-nafplio.html" target="_blank">here</a>. <br />
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After exploring some of mainland Greece, we relocated to Crete for a week, which we spent living in a stone house in a little village called Siva. It had been the childhood home of our host, and you could see vestiges of what it had been like in an earlier time: a courtyard with an outhouse (now plumbed and containing the washing machine), a well, and a wood-fired oven. One particular treat was to be able to pick fresh oranges from the trees surrounding the house.<br />
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Siva is tiny (population 244, according to Wikipedia). It was quiet and lovely (see view above and at top), and we enjoyed staying there. It is close to Iraklion, but far enough away to have a rural feel. We enjoyed our hosts' own olive oil while we were there, especially when we learned that we had driven past the trees that produced the olives, and the press that pressed them was just down the street. It doesn't get much more local than that.<br />
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Another example of local products can be seen in this sign, just across the street from "our" house (and next door to the goat):<br />
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We didn't try this particular vintage, but we're sure it's a winner.<br />
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Siva was far too small to boast any public transportation, so we rented a little Fiat Panda from the efficient and capable Dimitris. With it, we acquired a GPS with the usual cultured female voice, courteously instructing us on where we should be going. Since we are perhaps not the very best at following instructions, we named her Cassandra, after another long-suffering woman who nobody ever listened to.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOzzWv9hjrmoMo74f7FZvn6zhN8a5ANr0KO0HDP8Ld1aNevROTsnCr-_IaD3YwDmuenUuTxzBBbCfg7HncCUHilRVsue3QVNkMjlF7jg28BuvnYTBREa3vimjtwEFlQCrlaoF17rr_uqny/s1600/Cassandra_(Stratford_Gallery).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOzzWv9hjrmoMo74f7FZvn6zhN8a5ANr0KO0HDP8Ld1aNevROTsnCr-_IaD3YwDmuenUuTxzBBbCfg7HncCUHilRVsue3QVNkMjlF7jg28BuvnYTBREa3vimjtwEFlQCrlaoF17rr_uqny/s1600/Cassandra_(Stratford_Gallery).jpg" height="320" width="290" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cassandra: "Go that way!"</td></tr>
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We started off elegantly enough, greeting her with "Speak to us, o Cassandra, of the road to Iraklion" and suchlike. But it fairly quickly devolved into something closer to "Bug off, Cassie, we're stopping for lunch." I don't think we are GPS sorts of people. We finally figured out how to turn her off, though for a while we had her speaking in Greek, which was almost as good.<br />
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<h4>
Knossos</h4>
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The famed palace of Knossos was our first sightseeing stop on Crete. Knossos, of course, is said to be the palace of the legendary King Minos and home to the Minotaur, complete with labyrinth, bull-leaping, Theseus, Ariadne, and all of that.<br />
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Knossos has seen more restoration, some of it questionable, than the other Minoan sites we visited, but it is still an evocative site.<br />
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Here are some of the current denizens of Knossos:<br />
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And two more well-known restored frescoes from Knossos (now in the museum in Iraklion):<br />
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Having poked around the northern edge of Crete for a while, we decided to head south. We huffed and puffed across the mountains in our little Fiat (which we think was muttering "I think I can, I think I can, I think I can..." in Greek) and found ourselves on the south coast, where it was about 10 degrees warmer.<br />
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Phaistos (Festos, Faistos)</h4>
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Less restored but no less interesting than Knossos was Phaistos, for which we found a number of alternate spellings, including several on the road signs on our way to it. From around the same time period as Knossos, Phaistos is in a magnificent location, with panoramic views in all directions.<br />
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The nearby site of Aghia Triada was similar in many ways, though it was more of a village and less centered around a huge palace than either Phaistos or Knossos.<br />
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These imposing pots (and the ones from Knossos shown above) are called <i>pithoi</i> (singular <i>pithos</i>). They are seriously big. The ones from Knossos probably stand 8 or 9 feet high. We should have put a person in the picture to show the scale, but we didn't think of that until after we had left. Even today the Cretans like to decorate with them, as you can see in this picture of the house in Siva:<br />
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We did see one post-Minoan site in our meanderings. Gortyn afforded us the chance to look at Roman Crete.<br />
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It also has the Gortyn Code, or at least most of it. This law code, carved in stone in lines that reverse direction (left to right, right to left, etc.), is said to be the oldest and most complete surviving code of ancient Greek law. You'll have to look carefully to see the writing, but it is there.<br />
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Next time, we go back north and head west (with occasional help from Cassandra), to show you Rethymnon, and then east, to show you Malia.<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Images in this post are either our own photos, or in the public domain.</span><br />
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<br />Tinney Heathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18383946402836289511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4025295042007800999.post-86792615887336216672015-04-08T09:27:00.000-07:002015-04-08T09:27:11.549-07:00Our Greek Odyssey 2: Nafplio, Epidaurus,Tiryns, Mycenae<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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This post concerns the second phase of our recent trip to Greece. Anyone who missed the bit on Athens can find it <a href="http://historicalfictionresearch.blogspot.com/2015/04/our-greek-odyssey-i-athens.html" target="_blank">here</a>.<br />
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We picked the lovely seaside town of <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nafplio" target="_blank">Nafplio</a> both for its undeniable charm and for its proximity to two of the archaeological sites we most wanted to see: Epidaurus and Mycenae.<br />
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We chose the Hotel Byron, and we were not disappointed. It did require a bit of climbing, though, which we were unaware of when we trundled our luggage from the station and walked till we spotted its welcoming sign:<br />
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Around the corner from the welcoming sign was the way in (or perhaps I should say the way up):<br />
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Factor in another three flights of stairs inside to reach our room, and I think it's fair to say that we walked off the amazing homemade marmalade we ate each morning. Tim suggested that they needed a funicular, and he was heard to quote Douglas Adams from time to time concerning "the advantages 'up' has to offer." But then, he was the one schlepping the bags.<br />
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Just across from us was the church of Saint Spyridon, on the steps of which, in 1831, Ioannis Kapodistrias, the first head of state of the then newly liberated Greece, was assassinated:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHES1KcZUP51ktALuhyphenhyphen33liA7VNIRgLYu6V0FyKVzh-UbWBCE808HBYCL7DJOhyphenhyphenrG8p8R4xudsB6vI93YtUJtfcI0DlAvLH0PaYAeuqFB8VKtMympa9OT60VgftQbudNRUD34359qRJ_AP/s1600/Kapodistrias_murder_by_Pachis.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHES1KcZUP51ktALuhyphenhyphen33liA7VNIRgLYu6V0FyKVzh-UbWBCE808HBYCL7DJOhyphenhyphenrG8p8R4xudsB6vI93YtUJtfcI0DlAvLH0PaYAeuqFB8VKtMympa9OT60VgftQbudNRUD34359qRJ_AP/s1600/Kapodistrias_murder_by_Pachis.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Murder of Ioannis Kapodistrias, by Charalambos Pachis</td></tr>
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A few pictures to give you an idea of Nafplio's appeal:<br />
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We rented a car to go to Epidaurus when we learned that the bus schedules were not going to allow us enough time to see it properly. Both of us had wanted to see the ancient theatre there, with its famous acoustics, and it was worth braving Greek traffic and roadsigns to get there. A person standing in the center of the stage can drop a small object and its impact will be heard throughout the theatre. <br />
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<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tiryns" target="_blank">Tiryns</a> was another archaological site we wanted to see. Called "mighty walled Tiryns" by Homer, it was said by some to be the birthplace of Heracles. Even today the huge stones of Tiryns are impressive:<br />
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And finally we made it to <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mycenae" target="_blank">Mycenae</a>, home to the great king Agamemnon of Homeric fame. It was the source of this famous mask, called the Mask of Agamemnon (though it actually is several centuries too early to be him):<br />
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If I had been Agamemnon and I had a palace with the breathtaking view he had in Mycenae, I would have left Troy to its own devices and spent my days sitting on the patio drinking ouzo. Well, okay, maybe not ouzo. But drinking in the view, definitely.<br />
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I was excited to see the famous Lions Gate at Mycenae (see picture at top, also detail below).<br />
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Very nearby, we were able to see the extraordinary tholos tomb variously known as the Treasure of Atreus or the Tomb of Agamemnon.<br />
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Inside the tholos tomb the acoustics are downright alarming. If someone speaks, a listener may well hear the sound from another place altogether. At one point I would swear I heard someone laughing demonically just behind me, but when I turned to see who was there, there was nobody at all. It was actually pretty creepy. I left with alacrity.<br />
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Here's the entrance to that tomb:<br />
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I loved Mycenae. I flirted briefly with the idea of writing about it, but then my better judgment prevailed, and I decided to leave it to the experts. (All I came up with was a limerick, and I'll spare you that.) One of those experts, my friend Judith Starkston, has written a very fine book, <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Hand-Fire-Judith-Starkston/dp/1611792959/ref=sr_1_1_twi_1_pap?ie=UTF8&qid=1428437044&sr=8-1&keywords=Hand+of+Fire" target="_blank">Hand of Fire</a>, about the life of Briseis, a character mentioned only briefly in Homer's <i>Iliad</i>. Agamemnon plays a major part in her tale.<br />
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Next time, we'll be in Zorba country - Crete! Join me then for more pictures, to meet the kitty who photobombed Malia, and to find out why we named our GPS after the prophetess Cassandra.<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Pictures of the mask of Agamemnon and of the murder of Kapodistrias are in the public domain; other pictures are our own.</span>Tinney Heathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18383946402836289511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4025295042007800999.post-75103925068065917052015-04-05T14:27:00.000-07:002015-04-05T18:46:13.875-07:00Our Greek Odyssey I: Athens<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I was supposed to begin this blog with a picture of the Parthenon. I mean, isn't that what every spiel about a trip to Greece is supposed to start with? Classic, timeless, tasteful, sublime... </div>
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However, as some of you may have noticed, I haven't been blogging lately, and in fact haven't been online much or communicating much. So please bear with me as I gently ease my way back into social media's comfy little illusion that we all actually have something to say. This could possibly mean that I'll be even more eccentric than usual for a while.</div>
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To make it easier on all of us, I'm going to blog my recent trip to Greece mostly with images, mostly pictures taken by my husband, but a few supplementary shots taken from Wikimedia Commons. And I'm going to divide the trip into three posts, for the three places we used as home base during our travels: Athens, Nafplio, and Crete. (Also possibly a brief post about the British Museum in London, where we went to see all of the Greek antiquities that wound up there. To paraphrase what Hayakawa once said about the Panama Canal, they stole them fair and square.)</div>
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This one's Athens. So here's that Parthenon:</div>
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We stayed at the lovely Hotel Hermes, which had a mind-boggling breakfast buffet. You could get eggs, bacon, baked beans, pastries, baklava, spinach pie, yogurt, honey, jam, bread, toast, olives, Greek salad, tiramisu, rice pudding, bran flakes, several different fruit juices, fresh sliced oranges, apples, cheese, sliced meats, granola, and I'm probably forgetting a bunch of things. You could not, however, get this peculiar Greek gelato:</div>
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That was someplace else. But Hotel Hermes was a good base for seeing the Acropolis and the museums, and we took full advantage of it. Here's some of the evidence:<br />
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The new Acropolis Museum is spectacular, and has very pointedly left some obvious places to display the <a href="http://europeanhistory.about.com/od/historybycountry/a/elginmarbles.htm" target="_blank">Elgin Marbles</a> (see upcoming post), should the British by any chance ever decide to give them back.<br />
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The Archaeological Museum was amazing.<br />
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Large parts of it are currently closed due to the Greek financial crisis, but a kindly guard took pity on us when I looked crestfallen at not getting into the room with the Cycladic art, and he took us in for a precious five minutes of looking at the things I had most wanted to see. We owe him.<br />
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Athens seems to be populated by a very large number of lethargic dogs, which people just walk around, or step over. They flop down wherever they happen to be. The ones in this picture are actually atypically perky.<br />
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After our brief private tour of the Cycladic art in the Archaeological Museum, we went to the Cycladic Art Museum for more. I am very attracted to these boldly simple ancient sculptures which have influenced so many twentieth-century artists.<br />
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Note the pointed feet on this statuette:<br />
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I've read that this type of feet indicates that the statuettes were intended to be lying down, not standing up. Though I do wonder what future generations might say about these: <br />
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<span style="font-size: small;">Other Athens pictures include picturesque corners, the Olympic Stadium, and the goddess herself:</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;">We were able to watch the Changing of the Guards, which was quite an elaborate spectacle (and which we are pretty sure was John Cleese's inspiration for the Ministry of Silly Walks):</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;">Each of those little white pleated skirts has 400 pleats, which the wearer has to iron in himself, or so we've been told. And we've also heard that they used to hide knives in those fluffy, harmless-looking tassels on their shoes. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;">Although this is only a taste of what this fascinating city has to offer, for now we will say goodnight to Athens and, in the next post, move on to the town of Napflio, the perfect jumping-off point for Epidaurus and Mycenae. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Images in this post are our own, except for the photo of the dolls, which is licensed to GeekChickLoLo via the Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported license, and can be viewed <a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Vintage_1950s_Bild_Lilli_2014-03-31_08-27.jpg" target="_blank">here</a>.</span><br />
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<br />Tinney Heathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18383946402836289511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4025295042007800999.post-26647959225832905132014-12-09T09:36:00.000-08:002014-12-09T09:36:23.364-08:00Medieval Italian insults<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Angry words. Words intended to give offense, to hurt. To damage, whether feelings or reputation. We have no shortage of angry words in the world today, but I've recently run across a few things in the course of my research that set me to wondering if it has ever been any different.<br />
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Before there was Twitter, before there were flame wars and trolls, before today's toxic and polarized political climate, there was the lively, colorful Italian street (not to mention the Italian toxic and polarized political climate). Let me share with you a partial list of insults recorded in the town of Savona, Italy, for just one year in the 14th century -- these being the insults that were prosecuted in a court of law, as tallied in Trevor Dean's book <i>Crime and Justice in Late Medieval Italy</i>.<br />
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<ul>
<li>Filthy worm-head.</li>
<li>You're lying in your throat, filthy, rotten woman. </li>
<li>I hate you.</li>
<li>Go on, rotten prattler. God give you ill-fortune. [Allegation of a conspicuous lack of personal hygiene, phrased bluntly], why do you come round here with your prattle?</li>
<li>Go on, go and talk to your mates, the whores. You shouldn't be talking to good women.</li>
<li>Ugly, rotten pimp.</li>
<li>You're a devil and a piece of filth.</li>
<li>Thief and rogue.</li>
<li>Mad boy.</li>
<li>Witch-whore.</li>
<li>Ugly, shameful woman, you take men [crude description of a non-procreative sexual practice]</li>
<li>Go and get f***ed.</li>
<li>Rotten pimp, we shall chase you from your house.</li>
<li>Rotten dog whore.</li>
<li>Rotten donkey, ribald.</li>
<li>Ugly, rotten whore.</li>
</ul>
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Some involved threats, explicit or implicit, but those were not necessarily weighted more heavily in the courts than the ones that didn't:<br />
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<ul>
<li>I hate you like a dog. I shall punch and kick you.</li>
<li>By Christ's body, I shall have to hit you on the head. (This one manages to involve blasphemy as well; it was a separate crime.)</li>
<li>Rotten pimp, we shall chase you from your house.</li>
<li>I want to see you dragged through this town. </li>
</ul>
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The commonest were “I hate you” and “You're lying in your throat.” (<i>Tu menti per la gola</i>.) That last one intrigues me, partly because I came across it in connection with researching my novel A Thing Done, and the phrase does appear in my book much as it does in the historical record. Why, I wonder, is it worse to lie in one's throat than just to lie? I haven't found an answer to that, but it does seem to me that while one could lie easily, glibly with one's mouth, to lie in one's throat suggests a deeper well of malice.<br />
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Dean points out that the Savona insults can be roughly divided into three categories: sex, defecation, and rottenness. In other towns, such practices as cursing someone with a disease were prevalent. “Get dog-worm!” appears to have been something of a favorite.<br />
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In Todi and Bologna, gender differences showed up clearly: threat of injury, challenges, and imprecations of ill-fortune were made only by men and usually against other men. Women could only wish on men the inflection of violence by other men (like the “I want to see you dragged” remark, above). Women were insulted via their sexuality or sexual decency, and men through their public roles or their “honesty, courage, and worth.”<br />
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Other cities, too, give us some colorful examples. In Florence, on18 June 1375, the podestà accused Filippa, daughter of Matteo, in the parish of Sant'Ambrogio, of having slandered Piero di Cianchino, who lived in the nearby parish of San Simone. She called him “filth, traitor, thief.” Piero said, “If you were a man instead of a woman, you would not be able to say these words to me.” Filippa, undeterred, told him “I am a woman, and I will shame you all the same.” (The records do not show what Piero had done to provoke Filippa's ire.) But Filippa, who had an interesting worldview, wasn't done yet. She went on:<br />
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“What a feast God and the mother who brought you into this world would have, had they given me the heart to have more men to kill than you could have over to dinner.” <br />
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Without explanation, the podestà's court cleared Filippa of all charges. Perhaps he just didn't want to be next.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Filippa, perhaps?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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And in Palermo, 1328, here's the Master of the Guard speaking to a nobleman.<br />
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“You're lying in your throat like a rotten, evil, ruffian, cuckold and traitor. Sir S**t. Cripple-legs. Mouth-stinking bastard. You're no knight....” Then, just for good measure, he called the man's wife a “rotten bitch-harlot.”<br />
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Incidentally, I wonder if the frequency with which we see the word “rotten” appear has something to do with “mouth-stinking,” as above. Rotten teeth mean bad breath, and I wouldn't be surprised if that is the source of that particular insult, given the state of medieval dentistry.<br />
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Each city had its own way of prosecuting what we might think of as “crimes of insult.” In Chiusi, for example, miscreants were fined by the insulting word. But how to count them?<br />
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We can study the case of Niccolò, who said to a married woman, “Dirty, deformed woman, provocative whore, I've had three children by you, you dirty, sick beggar. Your mother went begging and gave birth to children in the stables.” There would seem to be a certain behavioral inconsistency here, but Niccolò seems unaware of it.<br />
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Then, as if that wasn't enough to make his point, he turned to her brother. “Your sister's a whore, and her daughter. May your soul be accursed and your father's, may there be as many devils after his soul as he had dogs following him.” Over 60 words (none of them exactly friendly), but the authorities counted the diatribe as 8 insulting “words.” Six of the counted categories were bodily deformity, prostitution, disease, beggary, shameful parturition, and cursing the soul.” The record is unclear about the others.<br />
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Modena criminalized only “cuckold” and “lying in one's throat”, or taunting someone with the killing of his male kinsman (as yet unavenged, presumably).<br />
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Cesena charged 10 lire for “traitor, false cuckold, pimp, robber, thief, goat, ribald, heretic, sodomite, whore, and pimp.” “Get dog-worm” and “Go hang yourself” were considered everyday and therefore unimportant.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Goat"?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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In Fabriano we see a bit of class consciousness evoked with this insult: “You've eaten farro soup.” (Meaning: You've eaten coarse peasant food, so what does that make you?)<br />
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And speaking of class, it was not unusual for people to be fined more for insulting someone of higher status.<br />
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A historical example of an insult from Florence: messer Corso Donati called his nemesis messer Vieri de Cerchi “the ass of Porta San Piero” “because he was a very good-looking man, but not very astute or articulate,” chronicler Dino Compagni tells us. Corso frequently asked “Has the ass of Porta San Piero brayed yet today?” And just to amplify the insult, he employed a jester named Scampolino to spread his words around as widely as possible.<br />
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And then there are the literary examples. Franco Sacchetti, fourteenth century Florentine writer of short stories, favored “Get dog-worm!” In his tales it was said by a lord to his buffoons, a peasant to a wolf, a husband to a wife, and a nobleman to his servant.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Boccaccio</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Giovanni Boccaccio, another Florentine and author of The Decameron, tells a tale of friendly insults between friends. Messer Forese da Rabatta and the famous artist maestro Giotto di Bondone were riding together one day when they were caught in a rainstorm, which left both of them bedraggled. Forese, according to Boccaccio, hadn't looked too good to begin with: he was small, with a deformed body and a flat, pushed-in face, yet he was a wise and learned jurist. Giotto was an artist of great genius, but he may not have been a great beauty either. There's a story of Giotto and Dante in which Dante asks Giotto how it is that the painter's work is so beautiful, but his children are so ugly, and Giotto supposedly replied, “I make my paintings during the day and my children at night.” <br />
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Be that as it may, after the rainstorm neither one was looking very good. Forese said, “Giotto, what if we were to run into a stranger who had never seen you before, do you think he would believe you were the best painter in the world, as you really are?” And Giotto replied, “Sir, I think he would believe it if, after looking you over, he were to think you knew your ABCs!”<br />
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Dante's remark to Giotto (above) was far from his only foray into the colorful world of insults. He engaged in a <i>tenzone</i> (a poetic exchange of insults) with Forese Donati, his friend (and the brother of Corso Donati, above), which some scholars still prefer not to believe could actually have been authored by the great poet. In the exchange, the two poets accuse each other of sexual inadequacy, beggary, gluttony, thievery, and cowardice, not to mention hinting at even more scurrilous things.<br />
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Dante was not above the classic “insult the other guy's mother” ploy, either. Forese's and Corso's mother, monna Tessa, must have been a redoubtable woman (see my blog post on her <a href="http://historicalfictionresearch.blogspot.com/2014/05/medieval-moms-i-one-of-ill-famed.html" target="_blank">here</a>), but Dante didn't hesitate to slam her in verse:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
O Bicci junior, son of who knows who<br />
(unless we ask monna Tessa)...</blockquote>
(“Bicci” was Forese's nickname.)<br />
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And he didn't let it rest there. Later in the same poem, he writes of Simone Donati, Forese's and Corso's father:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
...who is to you what Joseph was to Christ.</blockquote>
Hmm.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dante encounters Forese in Purgatory</td></tr>
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That's not the only surviving account of someone insulting Tessa. The Lucchese writer Giovanni Sercambi, 1348-1424, wrote a collection of 155 short stories, one of which told a tale of monna Tessa.<br />
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For the details, please see my earlier blog post <a href="http://historicalfictionresearch.blogspot.com/2014/05/medieval-moms-i-one-of-ill-famed.html" target="_blank">here</a>, but the gist of it is this: a man called Bisticcio called out to her the medieval equivalent of “Hey, Babe, how about it?” <br />
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And Tessa calmly responded with the medieval equivalent of “Forget it. You can't afford me.”<br />
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A good note to end on. I hope you've enjoyed this little tour of insults in medieval Italy.<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Images in this post are in the public domain, with the exception of the photo of Giotto's statue, which is licensed to Sailko via the Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported license.</span><br />Tinney Heathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18383946402836289511noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4025295042007800999.post-91449893689869827462014-11-30T07:41:00.000-08:002014-11-30T07:41:21.797-08:00Snapshot: Florence, 1338<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvYe76B7MDS5jyLMH3EPSDSVcA_Q_PjLw3M6d9jOJVaHELVzM6i_vJRaJFNatCsoOiig0D_7ZHPeLnQwR6YsNwu2a_2aM3ZP_4J2uK3fs5NUUGFXcHOPkgd4lsalHjSsgAYI_McsT_xigZ/s1600/Florncie1352.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvYe76B7MDS5jyLMH3EPSDSVcA_Q_PjLw3M6d9jOJVaHELVzM6i_vJRaJFNatCsoOiig0D_7ZHPeLnQwR6YsNwu2a_2aM3ZP_4J2uK3fs5NUUGFXcHOPkgd4lsalHjSsgAYI_McsT_xigZ/s1600/Florncie1352.jpg" height="381" width="400" /></a></div>
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In my last post I promised a look at Florence's medieval population figures, with at least a cursory glance at our sources for that information and the processes historians use to figure out how many people lived in a given place at a given time.<br />
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But before we go into generalities, I'd like to take a look at one specific -- and extraordinary -- source for Florence, circa 1338.<br />
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In 1338, the ravages of the Black Death are still ten years in the future, though other pestilences have recently wrought havoc on a smaller scale, as have natural disasters and food shortages. Dante has been dead for 17 years. Florence's extraordinary century of growth -- the 13th century -- is over, and Florence is now the dominant military and commercial power in Tuscany. She is a wealthy city, and much of her wealth comes from the wool industry. Her merchants and bankers are famous throughout the world.<br />
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And one proud Florentine, the chronicler Giovanni Villani, elected to give us a detailed portrait of his city, including numbers. Lots of numbers. There is, of course, no way to verify his every claim, but modern historians have generally been impressed with how closely his figures tally with those they've arrived at after much forensic work. <br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM6wYMCuU7rouO9Ms8U68KtKFb29kJZAjys6JPq_ihO-HFMye4tw48vT0aR3qrHUX1rC4IADQNCERUmqkAf3tDn8j-LFT85GPeQOWwAXI2pDgaRB7ZHmyTCL9UgNJeD7kWjjVQC-3hE26Z/s1600/Villani.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM6wYMCuU7rouO9Ms8U68KtKFb29kJZAjys6JPq_ihO-HFMye4tw48vT0aR3qrHUX1rC4IADQNCERUmqkAf3tDn8j-LFT85GPeQOWwAXI2pDgaRB7ZHmyTCL9UgNJeD7kWjjVQC-3hE26Z/s1600/Villani.jpg" height="346" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Giovanni Villani</td></tr>
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Villani was in a good position to give us this snapshot of his city in the year 1338. Born into a prosperous merchant family, he was a banker and a public servant as well as a historian. He was an agent, a shareholder, and eventually a partner in the famous Peruzzi banking company; a member and sometime officer of the powerful <i>Arte di Calimala</i> (wool-finishers guild); and he served his city as one of its priors (the nine-member elected government) on several different occasions. In addition to that, he was deputized in 1324 to oversee the rebuilding of the city's walls, and after the famine of 1328 he served as a magistrate in charge of provisioning the city and distributing grain to the citizens of Florence. He also served in the Florentine army.<br />
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He knew Florence, knew her physical properties, her politics, her business ventures, her military activities, her people.<br />
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Here are a few of the things he has told us about Florence in 1338:<br />
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First, based on the consumption of grain, he calculated that Florence had about 90,000 mouths to feed. Modern scholars believe the total population to have been somewhere between 100,000 and 120,000 at that time; however, Villani explicitly says that he did not include members of religious orders or foreigners (foreigners being non-citizens, and there would have been a lot of them because of the influx of people from the countryside during the recent famine, people who wanted to take advantage of Florence's grain provisions). Allowing for those two categories, Villani's figures appear to be fairly accurate.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKd67f5IAq8aU27dHU4HsOJgIpDLccrieZ0kJY1l2RegLTu-4PDPDdGc-SZiqNfVujBhbmPSaMPepG_br_yYVn85fS_mhGuhgTz-KcG164bwrMkoHDeYky8EY8qxWRE9qwRqVu02RrCo-d/s1600/14th-century_painters_-_Libro_del_Biadaiolo_-_WGA15968.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKd67f5IAq8aU27dHU4HsOJgIpDLccrieZ0kJY1l2RegLTu-4PDPDdGc-SZiqNfVujBhbmPSaMPepG_br_yYVn85fS_mhGuhgTz-KcG164bwrMkoHDeYky8EY8qxWRE9qwRqVu02RrCo-d/s1600/14th-century_painters_-_Libro_del_Biadaiolo_-_WGA15968.jpg" height="400" width="277" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Distribution of grain</td></tr>
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He tells us that about 25,000 men between the ages of 15 and 70 were capable of bearing arms, and in time of war they would be joined by another 80,000 men from the surrounding countryside (the <i>contado</i>).<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7uojNWvLrENU3FdRQhz4eUkUeQzjTow_iMeNtdFSEEjn_TnMr-P6eSZm7EMNERjngU2n57yi4AdMP-vqVhKH6LGKrZBXIxKPwaeqq2k7hhwmRhlt8MTnrvYf5Yle7b3iItWT7U8Hln5aN/s1600/army.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7uojNWvLrENU3FdRQhz4eUkUeQzjTow_iMeNtdFSEEjn_TnMr-P6eSZm7EMNERjngU2n57yi4AdMP-vqVhKH6LGKrZBXIxKPwaeqq2k7hhwmRhlt8MTnrvYf5Yle7b3iItWT7U8Hln5aN/s1600/army.jpg" height="193" width="400" /></a></div>
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Between 5,500 and 6,000 infant baptisms were performed in Florence's Baptistery that year.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglNXVlz6aFubS8YVY-t5U3uTYajcVwvcgBow_eGZUuhe0HOw9bux1t-6FdnxF7DSWj2d52SVNovrhbivVpHZo3ifIOccNah4TNXUB66DuH-vIKOQvSvIEONd43zVroPXgzcWZoVNyHnp9n/s1600/BaptistryCollage1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglNXVlz6aFubS8YVY-t5U3uTYajcVwvcgBow_eGZUuhe0HOw9bux1t-6FdnxF7DSWj2d52SVNovrhbivVpHZo3ifIOccNah4TNXUB66DuH-vIKOQvSvIEONd43zVroPXgzcWZoVNyHnp9n/s1600/BaptistryCollage1.jpg" height="147" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Three views, old and new, of the Baptistery</td></tr>
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Some 8,000 to 10,000 children, both boys and girls, were learning to read in elementary schools. Six hundred boys were enrolled in higher level schools to learn grammar and logic.<br />
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The city housed 110 churches, of which 57 were parish churches and the rest belonged to the various religious orders.<br />
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Over 200 workshops associated with the wool trade employed some 30,000 people, producing 70,000 to 80,000 bolts of cloth with a total value of more than one million two hundred thousand gold florins, a third of which was paid out as wages.<br />
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Florence had 80 banks, 600 notaries, 60 physicians and surgeons, and 100 apothecaries to serve its populace.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7zGUrvBymQdcjlBUAS5NpsCLB88x6GmBjppPNcqoB_o2Tb_rociRzm-pqN-Ah17WG7eoxcdjxIsUeGqL_T53L6UNj4FYMSFQhMNbvZYmudx4vNzh8fmSB7u3tPXZnfjTR1vOqf2iqfEdr/s1600/42-aspetti_di_vita_quotidiana,_medicine,Taccuino_Sanitatis,.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7zGUrvBymQdcjlBUAS5NpsCLB88x6GmBjppPNcqoB_o2Tb_rociRzm-pqN-Ah17WG7eoxcdjxIsUeGqL_T53L6UNj4FYMSFQhMNbvZYmudx4vNzh8fmSB7u3tPXZnfjTR1vOqf2iqfEdr/s1600/42-aspetti_di_vita_quotidiana,_medicine,Taccuino_Sanitatis,.jpg" height="320" width="290" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Apothecary</td></tr>
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In a year the city went through enough grain and wine and meat animals to allow us to say that each individual in the city consumed, on average, 530 pounds of grain, 54 gallons of wine, and 88 pounds of meat, according to the calculations in Gene Brucker's book <i>Florence: The Golden Age, 1138-1737</i>. That meant a total of 4,000 cows and calves per year, as well as 60,000 geldings and sheep, 20,000 goats, and 30,000 pigs.<br />
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Brucker also has an interesting diagram that illustrates the population breakdown. Out of 500 people representing a cross-section of the entire population of Florence, he tells us, the distribution includes the following:<br />
<ul>
<li>1 moneylender or judge</li>
<li>2 priests</li>
<li>1 monk</li>
<li>3 nuns</li>
<li>60 scholars: 3 studying grammar, 7 studying the abacus, and 50 learning to read</li>
<li>3 notaries</li>
<li>1 doctor or apothecary</li>
<li>1 baker </li>
<li>139 (potential) soldiers</li>
<li>8 noblemen</li>
<li>2 merchants traveling outside the city</li>
<li>8 foreigners (visitors or soldiers) </li>
<li> 168 earning their living from the wool trade (one of whom actually owned a wool workshop)</li>
</ul>
There's more, but that should be enough to give you an overview of the bustling metropolis of Florence in that long-ago year. Next time I'd like to discuss a few of the potential pitfalls in trying to calculate population from the two main figures typically used for that purpose (grain consumption and baptisms), and also to find ways to visualize exactly how populous Florence was at various times in her history.<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"> Images in this post are in the public domain.</span><br />
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<br />Tinney Heathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18383946402836289511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4025295042007800999.post-21607635337133758402014-11-18T05:57:00.000-08:002014-11-18T05:57:58.863-08:00The Medieval Italian City<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Herewith I want to start a new thrust to this blog. For a long time I've described myself as interested in Italy in the middle ages, as Dantecentric, as someone who wants to understand what came <i>before</i> the Renaissance. All of that is still true, but when I think about the settings I choose when I write, I've realized that they all have one thing in common.<br />
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All my work takes place in medieval cities.<br />
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True, they were crowded, dirty, noisy, chaotic, malodorous, pestilential, dangerous, and politically volatile. But they were where the action was. They were teeming with life and color and creativity and passion and ambition – in short, with all things human. When Florence's population quadrupled over the course of the thirteenth century, it wasn't the birthrate that did it – it was immigration from the hinterlands. There were reasons all those people wanted to try their luck in the city.<br />
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I've read some wonderful medieval stories set in rural areas, in villages (one that comes to mind is Ann Baer's<i> Down the Commons: A Year in the Life of a Medieval Woman</i>, which is somewhere between a rural setting and a village), in some noble guy's castle, on the road (a wonderful new “on the road” book is Lucy Pick's <i>Pilgrimage</i>, much of which unfolds along the pilgrimage route to Santiago de Compostela). There's nothing wrong with any of that, much that's right, and much that I need to know and understand about those settings to be able to make sense of urban life. But for me, it's all about the cities.<br />
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<br />
When we go to Italy you'll never find us in some agriturismo place, some picturesque villa out among the cypress trees. Not that it wouldn't be fun to be there, but knowing me, I'd just keep heading into the nearest city anyway, so we might as well stay there. And not just in the city, but smack dab in the middle of the historic center, as medieval and as urban as we can get. And in an ancient and historic building, if at all possible (and if they can get internet signal through those thick walls...).<br />
<br />
Sometimes at night, or in the rain or snow, or at sunrise, it's possible to glimpse the city as it was, if only briefly. And for me, those moments are worth traveling for. <br />
<br />
Of course, once in a while things go awry. This, for example, was supposed to be the most beautiful piazza in Italy:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh51q2bkGCtb1mKTz0zIubTm9vLeDS6vC9QkTGQbg2Wuu_Jke-4s0crB9JrLPtFEaViDt_tThnQApUxiF6RJlXx0uEtc0JNQKuFg_gmhqcScyJFXp9ETWaIJTeLWiKwIIWzGeQtMWkMJnLX/s1600/Arezzopiazza.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh51q2bkGCtb1mKTz0zIubTm9vLeDS6vC9QkTGQbg2Wuu_Jke-4s0crB9JrLPtFEaViDt_tThnQApUxiF6RJlXx0uEtc0JNQKuFg_gmhqcScyJFXp9ETWaIJTeLWiKwIIWzGeQtMWkMJnLX/s1600/Arezzopiazza.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Obviously our timing was a little off. <br />
<br />
My first novel, <i>A Thing Done</i>, takes place in Florence in the early 13th century. It unfolds in the palazzos, the towers, the churches, the narrow and winding streets of the middle ages. The story it tells is drawn from the ancient chronicles (and fleshed out a bit), and it traces the development of a pivotal incident in the history of this extraordinary city. Today's Florence is at once modern, baroque, and Renaissance; if you want to find the middle ages, they're still there, but you have to work at it. And I have. <br />
<br />
Here is a tower that was the scene of a major event in my novel. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrHWpKh-cuCY5NvVJo_u7-dK4Oxqs9gLqM9HgTKhdyLRQyEiUqJR8q9VSIJ6Aj9o3OIny-z-cU5S7ICOf3UVSZt5MkiAT6ZcxrkZmDWryFelaqvsfBGJ4lCbRIT2HzqWxcx_EDV3sYjkVo/s1600/Aditower.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrHWpKh-cuCY5NvVJo_u7-dK4Oxqs9gLqM9HgTKhdyLRQyEiUqJR8q9VSIJ6Aj9o3OIny-z-cU5S7ICOf3UVSZt5MkiAT6ZcxrkZmDWryFelaqvsfBGJ4lCbRIT2HzqWxcx_EDV3sYjkVo/s1600/Aditower.jpg" height="400" width="266" /></a></div>
<br />
Today it houses a jewelry store, and it's a fraction of its former height – the government of Florence, during the brief period when it was controlled by neither the Guelfs nor the Ghibellines but by the popolo, required the nobles to reduce the height of their formidable defensive towers, in an effort to contain the lawlessness and the sheer military might of those powerful families. Thus, the vertiginously scary balcony which so terrified my protagonist is long gone, but the base of the tower remains. (See <a href="http://historicalfictionresearch.blogspot.com/2012/06/possibilities-up-has-to-offer.html" target="_blank">here</a> for more on medieval towers.)<br />
<br />
And here is a church where another major scene takes place. It's now a library.<br />
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<br />
Here are a few links to earlier blog posts in which I've discussed some aspects of medieval Florence:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<a href="http://historicalfictionresearch.blogspot.com/2012/01/was-there-florence-before-renaissance.html" target="_blank">Was There a Florence Before the Renaissance?</a><br />
<br />
Exercising Your Imagination, <a href="http://historicalfictionresearch.blogspot.com/2012/01/exercising-your-imagination-part-1.html" target="_blank">Part 1</a> and<a href="http://historicalfictionresearch.blogspot.com/2012/02/exercising-your-imagination-part-2.html" target="_blank"> Part 2</a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://historicalfictionresearch.blogspot.com/2012/11/so-whats-it-about.html" target="_blank">So - What's It About?</a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://historicalfictionresearch.blogspot.com/2014/02/what-building-most-defines-medieval.html" target="_blank">What Building Most Defines Medieval Florence?</a><br />
<br /></blockquote>
My work in progress alternates between two cities, Assisi and Rome, in the same time period. Assisi is still very medieval in its aspect, and it's easy to walk down those ancient streets and let your imagination wander. You don't have to work very hard at all, in Assisi, to go medieval. (See <a href="http://historicalfictionresearch.blogspot.com/2013/12/winter-comes-to-assisi.html" target="_blank">here</a>, <a href="http://historicalfictionresearch.blogspot.com/2014/01/in-fair-assisi-where-we-lay-our-scene.html" target="_blank">here</a>, and <a href="http://historicalfictionresearch.blogspot.com/2014/01/san-rufino-assisis-cathedral.html" target="_blank">here</a> for a few pictures of this lovely city.)<br />
<br />
Rome, on the other hand, presents some challenges. It is now a big, noisy, aggressive, modern city. I wouldn't even bother with it, except – well, it's Rome. What can you say? Stuff happened there.<br />
<br />
Rome presents the tourist/researcher with some truly bizarre contradictions. Like this one:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigwBAGCwWmJzTeKJwyHHIiJT-AfkurmMNDsmEaN2wI1X8tHWkruzo61PpnFsNHZZD_GgtpBCXFXo17YlklgM4fhnmewQ1tmG_rMTXGEnKyxorjHlgp81XXK9AFLtlWULSniyP5_g0Ut3TP/s1600/Fastfood2crop.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigwBAGCwWmJzTeKJwyHHIiJT-AfkurmMNDsmEaN2wI1X8tHWkruzo61PpnFsNHZZD_GgtpBCXFXo17YlklgM4fhnmewQ1tmG_rMTXGEnKyxorjHlgp81XXK9AFLtlWULSniyP5_g0Ut3TP/s1600/Fastfood2crop.jpg" /></a></div>
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The traffic is fierce. You take your life in your hands crossing a street. It's not quite the worst I've seen. (That would be Naples, where the traffic is so gonzo it's almost fun, in a suicidal sort of way.) But it's plenty bad enough. In Rome, we discovered that the only way you can cross a street in relative safety is to attach yourself firmly to one of the following:<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>a nun</li>
<li>an old woman</li>
<li>someone pushing a baby carriage</li>
</ul>
<br />
In fact, I'd only feel really safe in the company of an elderly nun pushing a baby carriage. <br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAa-rUdNMuXcavTJ-12qD9Pj_GLwWnP8AIOgfOZoHCThirb1BO0McrTIMLg0HAUNAT9xfSTer99Lza7G7VI64nP1dctcRv_lAyHO0yCeUVhyfxq_3VHGjhno1hexw72nu5FMg_DGuflFgs/s1600/RomanCrossing.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAa-rUdNMuXcavTJ-12qD9Pj_GLwWnP8AIOgfOZoHCThirb1BO0McrTIMLg0HAUNAT9xfSTer99Lza7G7VI64nP1dctcRv_lAyHO0yCeUVhyfxq_3VHGjhno1hexw72nu5FMg_DGuflFgs/s1600/RomanCrossing.jpg" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Romans, thinking about crossing the street</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br />
And Rome keeps changing. Giacoma, the main character in my WIP, lived in a fortified palace that incorporated the ancient ruin of the Septizonium. Here's what would have been left for me to see if I had been in Rome in the 16th century:<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivhyRkZGRi2hDK9JJoiB3rlsSWcSLeizQkIVAnZR9NfxWeUiJ6TfB2LRiShcym8WELce6IC7LhXugYSxwzquGFpiNAQN2ACQMh5wnJWZ2IMHVN_53tIDk-JPPemBvwMvHHneRco-_Rx5gf/s1600/Peracvestigi157514.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivhyRkZGRi2hDK9JJoiB3rlsSWcSLeizQkIVAnZR9NfxWeUiJ6TfB2LRiShcym8WELce6IC7LhXugYSxwzquGFpiNAQN2ACQMh5wnJWZ2IMHVN_53tIDk-JPPemBvwMvHHneRco-_Rx5gf/s1600/Peracvestigi157514.jpg" height="181" width="320" /></a></div>
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And here's what's there now:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5QtbgRoppKnKkszuBZMJtBo8ofGp4cn7dGeOaEY_DxGF__iFcioYm2NABdOzZgNScyRdCph2tEyzkPUiz_yLEHtr4ycqDHthyphenhyphenr4qC0lWi-Px8WHcv6WXs-U5Go7-Z2mNOUGC1mB31oNJq/s1600/Septizonium_location.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5QtbgRoppKnKkszuBZMJtBo8ofGp4cn7dGeOaEY_DxGF__iFcioYm2NABdOzZgNScyRdCph2tEyzkPUiz_yLEHtr4ycqDHthyphenhyphenr4qC0lWi-Px8WHcv6WXs-U5Go7-Z2mNOUGC1mB31oNJq/s1600/Septizonium_location.JPG" height="320" width="239" /></a></div>
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Despite the difficulties and frustrations, I do love learning about medieval Italian cities. In my next post, I will be discussing population – specifically, the population of Florence. This may, in fact, turn into two posts, one on how the population figures are derived (it's not as simple as glancing at a census), and a second on the actual figures, put into context, and on how they shifted over the medieval time period. Hope you'll join me for this excursion into medieval demographics.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Images in this post are our own, or in the public domain.</span><br />
<br />Tinney Heathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18383946402836289511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4025295042007800999.post-73755739030957966472014-11-12T05:55:00.000-08:002014-11-12T09:30:34.710-08:00Sturm: One of Charlemagne's Lieutenants in Spiritual Warfare (guest post by Kim Rendfeld)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg25bdXe0qhtEONkLur5MKZ6-0JA0c2AIyDmKtpJ1Z5sFWc-425izN9Bz-UV-sJALnVU8-3WX-ZhyphenhyphenzjKwePTc-O8eclj8pSt0hpk0gobKVUHBiHSGMXoGL5psJ3A4Tap5e_9iKiTlFsZhWZ/s1600/9781611793055-TheAshesofHeavensPillar-lrg-682x1024.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg25bdXe0qhtEONkLur5MKZ6-0JA0c2AIyDmKtpJ1Z5sFWc-425izN9Bz-UV-sJALnVU8-3WX-ZhyphenhyphenzjKwePTc-O8eclj8pSt0hpk0gobKVUHBiHSGMXoGL5psJ3A4Tap5e_9iKiTlFsZhWZ/s1600/9781611793055-TheAshesofHeavensPillar-lrg-682x1024.jpg" height="400" width="266" /></a></div>
<br />
I'm delighted to introduce guest blogger Kim Rendfeld, who has recently released her second novel set in Carolingian times. <i>The Ashes of Heaven's Pillar</i> (Fireship Press) has been garnering praise for its unusual setting, its depth of characterization, and for the author's meticulous research and vast knowledge of this time period. Reviewers have called it "...a sweeping story of family and hope," and described it as "...filled with rich detail, compelling characters, and a well-paced plot that keeps the pages turning to its very satisfying end" and "...absorbing from start to finish." I certainly found it so! Read my review <a href="http://www.amazon.com/review/R2E3E6338DDSAR/ref=cm_cr_rdp_perm" target="_blank">here</a>. <br />
<br />
<style type="text/css">P { margin-bottom: 0.08in; direction: ltr; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); widows: 2; orphans: 2; }A:link { color: rgb(5, 99, 193); }</style>Here's the blurb:<br />
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<style type="text/css">P { margin-bottom: 0.08in; }A:link { }</style><i><b>Can love triumph over war?</b></i><br />
<br />
<i>772 AD: Charlemagne’s battles in Saxony have left Leova with
nothing but her two children, Deorlaf and Sunwynn. Her beloved
husband died in combat. Her faith lies shattered in the ashes of the
Irminsul, the Pillar of Heaven. The relatives obligated to defend her
and her family instead sell them into slavery.</i><br />
<br />
<i>In Francia, Leova is resolved to protect her son and daughter,
even if it means sacrificing her honor. Her determination only grows
stronger as Sunwynn blossoms into a beautiful young woman attracting
the lust of a cruel master and Deorlaf becomes a headstrong man
willing to brave starvation and demons to free his family. Yet
Leova’s most difficult dilemma comes in the form of a Frankish
friend, Hugh. He saves Deorlaf from a fanatical Saxon and is
Sunwynn’s champion – but he is the warrior who slew Leova’s
husband.</i><br />
<br />
<i>Set against a backdrop of historic events, including the
destruction of the Irminsul, The Ashes of Heaven’s Pillar
explores faith, friendship, and justice. This companion to Kim
Rendfeld’s <a href="http://biz117.inmotionhosting.com/%7Ekimren5/the-cross-and-the-dragon/reviews/">acclaimed</a>
<a href="http://biz117.inmotionhosting.com/%7Ekimren5/the-cross-and-the-dragon/kims-books/the-cross-and-the-dragon/">The
Cross and the Dragon</a> tells the story of an ordinary family
in extraordinary circumstances.</i><br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
<br />
Now Kim brings us a post on Saint Sturm, a remarkable man living in turbulent times.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtKFVkUAjsn04ZmAcOS5AVMAVU75AuKSlI_xhdVBSLKpo14Nyr_g5bK7oXxSo5RPISwUPf1rxqKp85XgTuclQH7nP1CJas3ipXyZLxF4790GdCTYqZK1ygU4RlMqi_Nsc8A-bZ86Uore8D/s1600/KimBookPhoto1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtKFVkUAjsn04ZmAcOS5AVMAVU75AuKSlI_xhdVBSLKpo14Nyr_g5bK7oXxSo5RPISwUPf1rxqKp85XgTuclQH7nP1CJas3ipXyZLxF4790GdCTYqZK1ygU4RlMqi_Nsc8A-bZ86Uore8D/s1600/KimBookPhoto1.jpg" height="320" width="219" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kim Rendfeld</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /></div>
</div>
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<h2>
Sturm: One of Charlemagne's</h2>
<h2>
Lieutenants in Spiritual Warfare</h2>
<b>by Kim Rendfeld</b></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br />
When Charlemagne
decided to invade Saxony in 772, he took spiritual warriors in
addition to those guys with the spears and swords. Whether St. Sturm,
the abbot of Fulda, was with Charles during those battles is not
clear, but the king of the Franks put him in charge of the Christian
mission in a large part of the conquered territory.
</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Charles’s wars
against Saxony were different than those his ancestors had fought. It
was the first time religion was part of the conflict. Perhaps,
Charles wanted to protect Church interests. Perhaps he thought Saxons
were more likely to keep their oaths if they put their souls on the
line. Treaties were secured with vows that invoked deities. To
Charles, only one was valid.
</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Whatever his
reasons, Charles put his trust in Sturm, who had been a priest for
about 40 years. He had grown up near Saxon territory in the monastery
at Fritzlar, where he was an eager student. With the exception of a
trip to Rome and two years in exile, he had lived in the region most
of his life and had advised Charles on his relationship with the
king’s first cousin Tassilo, the duke of Sturm’s native Bavaria.
</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The most influential
person in Sturm’s life was St. Boniface, who had also tried to
covert pagan peoples. At Boniface’s urging, Sturm and two
companions spent nine years in forested wilderness seeking a suitable
spot to start a new monastery. Medieval folk depended on the forest
for survival, but it was also the home of predators, both beasts and
evil spirits.</div>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="_GoBack"></a>
Boniface, then the archbishop of Mainz, had rejected their first
choice, which Sturm’s hagiographer, Eigil, described as “a wild
and uninhabited spot and [they] could see nothing except earth and
sky and enormous trees.” The reason, ironically, was it was too
close to pagan Saxons to be safe.
</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
So Sturm tried
again, and he finally found the right place on the Fulda River. His
contemporaries probably saw it as the middle of nowhere. However,
Boniface believed God had picked the place and successfully appealed
to Frankish Mayor of the Palace Carloman to donate the land. Boniface
later visited the site to give it his blessing.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The year was 744,
when the Franks, under the rule of Carloman and his brother Pepin,
were at war with the Saxons. Again. Despite the battles in Saxony,
some of which involved Carloman and Pepin’s troublesome
half-brother Grifo, the monastery at Fulda thrived, and Sturm visited
Rome to better learned the Benedictine way of life.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b>Tangling over
Relics</b></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
In 754, Boniface was
martyred while trying to convert pagans in Frisia, and his body taken
back to Francia. That was the beginning of Sturm’s political
troubles.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
When the relics
reached Mainz, its archbishop, St. Lull, also a disciple of Boniface,
wanted the martyr’s body to remain in his city. Sturm insisted that
Boniface be taken to Fulda, a wish his mentor had expressed while
still alive. Martyr’s relics were treasured in the Middle Ages, and
they were attributed with miraculous powers. Pilgrims would flock to
those relics, which meant alms for the church housing them.<br />
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVY7Cnav0JF_uIdbOIlyQk36x8o8j1ZZQh34cqxQlZ4JhG5W6DkIXW-Lc3QhknOjB8CImpJRjrpweCsUEnRUvk1ulQT1HiH6a3FDrEIhrBjbVwF8cQyBOTtMabUxXgTOs22JzKtOmlJCPK/s1600/Fulda.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVY7Cnav0JF_uIdbOIlyQk36x8o8j1ZZQh34cqxQlZ4JhG5W6DkIXW-Lc3QhknOjB8CImpJRjrpweCsUEnRUvk1ulQT1HiH6a3FDrEIhrBjbVwF8cQyBOTtMabUxXgTOs22JzKtOmlJCPK/s1600/Fulda.jpg" height="640" width="444" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">St. Boniface baptizing a convert/Martyrdom of St. Boniface (11th c. image)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
According to Eigil,
Boniface himself weighed in by appearing to a deacon in a dream and
asking why he wasn’t being taken to Fulda. Lull was not convinced
until the deacon swore at the altar. The relics went to Fulda, but
Lull retaliated in a distinctly medieval way.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Lull accused Sturm
of disloyalty to Pepin, now king and sole ruler of Francia. Sturm
made no effort to defend himself and placed his trust in God.
Believing the accusers, Pepin sent Sturm and some companions to the
Abbey of Jumièges, where they were treated well.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
In the meantime,
Lull had managed to get Fulda placed under his jurisdiction and
appointed a new abbot, but the monks at Fulda refused to accept the
bishop’s puppet. So Lull caved and let them elect one of their own.
They choose a monk whom Sturm had mentored and, along with nuns in
convents and the faithful at other churches, prayed for Sturm to be
restored to Fulda.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The prayers worked.
Pepin sent for Sturm and in a chapel told him he had forgotten what
they were quarreling over. Sturm replied he wasn’t perfect but has
never committed any crime against Pepin. To signify the
reconciliation, the king pulled a thread from his own cloak and let
it fall to the floor.
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
So Sturm went back
to Fulda, and the monastery would claim Pepin as its sole protector,
making it independent of Mainz.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjY3Q5mHO7HAt24rt1P892Vf5GDbcNnqLvNZGWqcAAudIwb__KUwVlGoLuRQcqjtrulDJvz5pJlRBIfvYuJE_8NHAsgL5cWOmzGNUNUJmSZiN6VKEK6o-N4Ly5qPJB2_ERFMoExHloqMhg/s1600/FuldaPlace.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjY3Q5mHO7HAt24rt1P892Vf5GDbcNnqLvNZGWqcAAudIwb__KUwVlGoLuRQcqjtrulDJvz5pJlRBIfvYuJE_8NHAsgL5cWOmzGNUNUJmSZiN6VKEK6o-N4Ly5qPJB2_ERFMoExHloqMhg/s1600/FuldaPlace.jpg" height="285" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fulda (1850)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b>A New King and
New Missions</b></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
When Pepin died in
768, he split the kingdom between sons Charles and Carloman (the
Franks were fond of recycling names). Seeking divine favor and
earthly alliances, Charles gave donations to Fulda. He also made
Sturm an emissary between him and the duke of Bavaria.
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Eigil says Sturm
established friendly relations between the royal cousins for several
years. Well, not exactly. In fairness to Sturm, even the most gifted
diplomat would have difficulty with those two. Relations might have
been good while Charles was married to a Lombard princess, the sister
of Tassilo’s influential wife. When he assumed sole rule of
Francia, Charles divorced the Lombard after only a year and then
overthrew his ex-father-in-law. The duchess of Bavaria never forgave
the Frankish king.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Sturm had other
affairs to deal with when Charles invaded Saxony four years into his
reign and destroyed the Irminsul, a pillar sacred to the Saxon
peoples, the same way Boniface had felled a tree sacred to pagans.
The message: My God is stronger than those devils you worship.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Sturm embraced his
new mission. He preached to the Saxon converts and exhorted them to
destroy pagan groves and temples and build churches instead.
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
But as soon as
Charles was occupied elsewhere, pagan Saxons attacked Christian
sites. Then Charles would send Frankish warriors to put down the
rebellion. This cycle would repeat itself for decades.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
While Charles was in
Spain in 778, the Saxons devastated Christian holdings and killed
indiscriminately all the way to the Rhine. When Charles got word, he
sent soldiers to put down the rebellion, and the Saxons retreated.
But the monks at Fulda feared an attack and fled with Boniface’s
relics. They spent three days in tents in the forest until they
learned that the locals had fended the Saxons off.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Charles still wanted
Sturm to lead the Christian mission, but the aged man was ill. The
king assigned the royal physician to attend to him. One day, the
physician gave Sturm a potion to make him feel better, but the
patient got worse and realized he was going to die. He asked his
brothers for forgiveness and in turn forgave those who wronged him,
including Lull.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Sturm died December
17, 779. The monks had no doubt that Sturm was going to heaven and
would have a special relationship with God.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Sources:</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Eigil’s <i>Life of
Sturm</i> [http://www.fordham.edu/Halsall/basis/sturm.asp]</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>Carolingian
Chronicles</i>, which includes the Royal Frankish Annals and
Nithard’s Histories, translated by Bernard Walter Scholz with
Barbara Rogers</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Pierre Riché’s
<i>Daily Life in the World of Charlemagne</i>, translated by Jo Ann
McNamara</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Pierre Riché’s
<i>The Carolingians: The Family Who Forged Europe</i>, translated by
Michael Idomir Allen</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Sturm makes a brief
appearance in Kim Rendfeld’s latest release, <i>The Ashes of
Heaven’s Pillar</i> (2014 Fireship Press), a story of a Saxon
mother and the lengths she will go to protect her children. To read
the first chapters of Kim’s novels or learn more about her, visit
<a href="http://kimrendfeld.com/">kimrendfeld.com</a>. You’re also
welcome to visit her blog <i>Outtakes of a Historical Novelist</i> at
<a href="http://www.kimrendfeld.wordpress.com/">kimrendfeld.wordpress.com</a>,
like her on Facebook at <a href="http://www.facebook.com/authorkimrendfeld">facebook.com/authorkimrendfeld</a>,
or follow her on Twitter at @kimrendfeld, or contact her at kim [at]
kimrendfeld [dot] com.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Illustrations in this post are in the public domain.</span></div>
Tinney Heathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18383946402836289511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4025295042007800999.post-33591310039144186422014-10-18T06:44:00.000-07:002014-10-19T07:08:47.304-07:00The box liked it<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTTJPh14J5bz-4aBjNcTvFRRCuREsjaiVwHXmtXhm_hTc2hyphenhyphen-UjkKTe4XMkDmg2xBD1cV8630-Gs8rhkVXLiU_kF96qaC5HpKUyvJh805ccRdsWL5CrPl1m9zvkQxnqgeWBmnC8OOG9OQt/s1600/cover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTTJPh14J5bz-4aBjNcTvFRRCuREsjaiVwHXmtXhm_hTc2hyphenhyphen-UjkKTe4XMkDmg2xBD1cV8630-Gs8rhkVXLiU_kF96qaC5HpKUyvJh805ccRdsWL5CrPl1m9zvkQxnqgeWBmnC8OOG9OQt/s1600/cover.jpg" height="400" width="266" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
My historical novel <i>A Thing Done</i>, set in Florence in 1216, is now on sale. For the next month, more or less, we've dropped the price drastically for ebook versions on <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Thing-Done-Tinney-S-Heath-ebook/dp/B009Z4WAU0/ref=tmm_kin_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&sr=8-1&qid=1413563036" target="_blank">Amazon</a>, <a href="http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/a-thing-done-tinney-heath/1113712556?ean=2940015899221" target="_blank">Barnes & Noble</a>, and <a href="https://itunes.apple.com/ca/book/a-thing-done/id574878992?mt=11" target="_blank">iTunes</a>, and lowered the price on the paperback as well. It's now going for $3.50 for Kindle, $2.50 for Nook, and $2.99 for iTunes ebook version. (I have no idea why those prices are different. I just work here.) <br />
<br />
If you haven't read it yet, I recommend it.<br />
<br />
"Of course she recommends it," I hear you saying. "She <i>wrote</i> it."<br />
<br />
Once, when my husband brought home a DVD, I asked him why he had chosen that
particular film. His answer? "Well, the box liked it." <br />
<br />
The box <i>always</i> likes it. But I don't always love things I've created, after the fact. Some of them actually make me cringe. It's like when my husband and I record music: when we play it back, I hate it. I hear everything that could have been better, everything that isn't quite good enough, everything that could have been played more elegantly. <br />
<br />
But this book I still like. I'm not saying it's perfect, but I liked writing it, I liked having written it, and - most amazing of all - I even liked reading it. And I think you might, too.<br />
<br />
Medievalists.net liked it (read their review <a href="http://www.medievalists.net/2013/07/28/book-review-a-thing-done-by-sue-heath-tinney/" target="_blank">here</a>): "I've read a lot of historical novels over the last few years but I have to say that hands down, this one is at the top of my list," wrote Sandra Alvarez. It makes me happy to know that people who are familiar with the underlying history enjoy my book.<br />
<br />
The<a href="http://www.bookawards.net/2014/03/winners-of-2013-sharp-writ-book-awards.html" target="_blank"> Sharp Writ Book Awards</a> liked it. It shared the top prize in the fiction category with another book, so now it gets to wear a little gold ribbon, and I have a plaque sitting on my bookcase:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWJsmVwE1Gm0dYE_WsHwEy9dOdeLgGUFqpg5Jm0G7PjVkfrE29YJua9D_IyD8KH3k4xStL3dDUokhIT4ou91bea5MiPf82fAuBgtM_W0r92QEAD84piV-aJajDX0Jqo8yGP_y7_EjA0yEV/s1600/Award.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWJsmVwE1Gm0dYE_WsHwEy9dOdeLgGUFqpg5Jm0G7PjVkfrE29YJua9D_IyD8KH3k4xStL3dDUokhIT4ou91bea5MiPf82fAuBgtM_W0r92QEAD84piV-aJajDX0Jqo8yGP_y7_EjA0yEV/s1600/Award.jpg" height="200" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Lots of kind people have told me they enjoyed it, so I don't hesitate to recommend it now. And doing so reminds me of some of the more memorable ups and downs in the saga of trying to sell copies of this book since it was published in October 2012.<br />
<br />
Here's the blurb, as it appears on the book cover:<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>In 1216 the noble families of Florence hold great power, but they do not share it easily. Tensions simmer just below the surface. When a jester's prank-for-hire sets off a brawl, those tensions erupt violently, dividing Florence into hostile factions. A marriage is brokered to make peace, but that fragile alliance crumbles under the pressure of a woman's interference, a scorned bride, and an outraged cry for revenge.</i><br />
<br />
<i>At the center of the conflict is Corrado, the Jester, whose prank began it and who is now pressed into unwilling service by both sides. It will take all his wit and ingenuity to keep himself alive, to protect those dear to him, and to prevent the unbridled ambitions of the nobles from destroying the city in a brutal civil war.</i></blockquote>
<br />
Many different versions of this blurb exist, because one must try many different things to sell books. There was the one where I tried it in question form:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>Will Buondelmonte's reckless act set off a full-scale vendetta? And if it does, will even the Jester's famous wit and ingenuity be enough to keep himself alive and protect those dear to him?</i></blockquote>
(Answers: Yep. And no, not exactly.)<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8bsDKJmVxPU-Tw_xDoXhlXQnYr0HGo36cUx52tnO8igaLiBTv95KH3Dv-MtHTN0RQWOeQ__e4iU8JHaWBUVhm0cjdZabn7bHOnQCFMEzJk_NukcIE2AIhuXMOGC0tzZ9K9QhX37HjZLaf/s1600/pleasebuy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8bsDKJmVxPU-Tw_xDoXhlXQnYr0HGo36cUx52tnO8igaLiBTv95KH3Dv-MtHTN0RQWOeQ__e4iU8JHaWBUVhm0cjdZabn7bHOnQCFMEzJk_NukcIE2AIhuXMOGC0tzZ9K9QhX37HjZLaf/s1600/pleasebuy.jpg" height="200" width="126" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pleeeeease buy this book!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Sometimes I added more description:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>Sworn to secrecy, he [Corrado] watches in horror as the headstrong knight Buondelmonte violates every code of honor to possess the woman he wants, while another woman, rejected and enraged, schemes to destroy him.</i></blockquote>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHC7pU4qmqjBGTIMIMse5WFwvS3EZqbWKkLMDG5DFzO2gXZNFvHsQwPxnkt3gh60zuAIBKTQp2HaIT7MNi2PEY4xOl2a5wiDsbI1QMl4VWQaS9Im5vqmh3D5-j4BHM_lbMQn-O27P5PTOS/s1600/ladygymnast.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHC7pU4qmqjBGTIMIMse5WFwvS3EZqbWKkLMDG5DFzO2gXZNFvHsQwPxnkt3gh60zuAIBKTQp2HaIT7MNi2PEY4xOl2a5wiDsbI1QMl4VWQaS9Im5vqmh3D5-j4BHM_lbMQn-O27P5PTOS/s1600/ladygymnast.jpg" height="200" width="175" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I'll do anything to get you to buy this book</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
I did want to stress the importance of the role of women in this book, since the Jester is male. So I added this paragraph:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>This is Corrado's story, but it is also the story of three fiercely determined women in a society that allows them little initiative: Selvaggia, the spurned bride; Gualdrada, the noblewoman who both tempts Buondelmonte and goads him; and Ghisola, Corrado's great-hearted friend. From behind the scenes they will do what they must to achieve their goals - to avenge, to prevail, to survive.</i></blockquote>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFUqrCOuzFc4C6aqWQc70c96I2q37Ku1TD7nrhCyDiChCEd0sBEoBpzUuj_i6A1Py8H74dLbaZnNTkKprKOo49H8p2aG6gPHU-pcn6pfe8SBaerhxJV73aEmbf1vnhZMbE7X0UmJEtyl-9/s1600/peacock.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFUqrCOuzFc4C6aqWQc70c96I2q37Ku1TD7nrhCyDiChCEd0sBEoBpzUuj_i6A1Py8H74dLbaZnNTkKprKOo49H8p2aG6gPHU-pcn6pfe8SBaerhxJV73aEmbf1vnhZMbE7X0UmJEtyl-9/s1600/peacock.jpg" height="200" width="151" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Buy this book or the peacock gets it.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
But these days you can't make your spiel longer. You have to make it ever shorter and more succinct. I learned that when I discovered Twitter.<br />
<br />
You don't get a lot of room to work with on Twitter, and you have to save room for links and hashtags and so on. If I want to call the book "prize-winning" it will cost me 13 characters. If I write #buythisbookdammit, it will cost me 18. And I absolutely refuse to write things like "U r gr8!" I. Just. Won't. It's all I can do to stop myself from leaving two spaces between sentences. Left to my own devices, I'd probably tweet with footnotes.<br />
<br />
When my son was very small, he was bouncing up and down in his crib when the bottom gave way, and he tumbled to the floor in a pile of mattress, blankets, and stuffed toys. He was unhurt, but the whole thing was terribly exciting and he wanted to tell me about it. Only problem was, he hadn't exactly figured out speaking in full sentences yet. So he ran up to me and yelled, "Mommy! Bed! Down! Uh-oh! Wow!"<br />
<br />
That kid would have been a natural, had Twitter existed back then.<br />
<br />
No so his mom, however. But I did manage a few I liked. There was the Shakespeare pair:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>"where civil blood makes civil hands unclean": Will could have been talking about A Thing Done.</i><br />
<br />
<i>"from ancient grudge break to new mutiny": The Bard could have said it about A Thing Done.</i></blockquote>
The book takes place over Easter in 1216, so I did some seasonal tweets on the appropriate days:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>The history: Good Friday 1216, Florence - the calm before the storm.</i><br />
<br />
<i>The history: Holy Saturday 1216, Florence - a knight is running out of time.</i><br />
<br />
<i>The history: Easter 798 years ago, Florence - Vendetta. Ambush. Civil war.</i></blockquote>
I used the first line of the book:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>It was a fool that began it, but it took a woman to turn it murderous. Florence, 798 years ago.</i></blockquote>
And my favorites:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>A tale of vendetta, betrayal, a spurned woman, civil war, and juggling.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>What happens when a knight can't take a joke?</i></blockquote>
I'm still considering this one:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>Price slashed (Also some of the characters, come to think of it.)</i></blockquote>
After a while, one gets a bit burned out with this sort of thing, and one might even start to get a little silly around the edges. (Ya think?) Then you find yourself thinking up marketing ploys like the pictures above, and these:<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6SHBy6XjSFGyNRYDzyzSML0QpeOYS7ahbErIJ3xKl-d05FzlgW3myVRTgvBJ5Va_6jxielzq3MoKie_Ta1mA3gFmy7HpmBSwlbjmOWR3_3VA-7XcCv-KBownNLnCb-bwrUSgtygxEw-UJ/s1600/Luttrell.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6SHBy6XjSFGyNRYDzyzSML0QpeOYS7ahbErIJ3xKl-d05FzlgW3myVRTgvBJ5Va_6jxielzq3MoKie_Ta1mA3gFmy7HpmBSwlbjmOWR3_3VA-7XcCv-KBownNLnCb-bwrUSgtygxEw-UJ/s1600/Luttrell.jpg" height="200" width="108" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Drumming up some support for this book</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyZuuDuKZUVF3qzCrAW3Megu728KSVc00ALxN0LZylkWrIIKiF5Hi2fQs4uJJbkIRYhGgR8K5A5wd3RJXMjP1J7YeEEUSXog1E28EX0sVpclT13485pKGewMDR7Y7u5CGu5q5t5blsiBUW/s1600/cornetto+guy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyZuuDuKZUVF3qzCrAW3Megu728KSVc00ALxN0LZylkWrIIKiF5Hi2fQs4uJJbkIRYhGgR8K5A5wd3RJXMjP1J7YeEEUSXog1E28EX0sVpclT13485pKGewMDR7Y7u5CGu5q5t5blsiBUW/s1600/cornetto+guy.jpg" height="196" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ta-da! Historical novel on sale, cheap!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
You try dressing up like your main character:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBRKXBthyNYMcRN58GfXI4Qz0HOVwGkKBbyzVEipUu7XSdAWavehcf0f5zcT7qSslC52Bq-G7cBOvMkU0qwU5Em2V9GBX7Y44H9Q5cMPB5bVDAssxYfJ_qy2651GqiDPO-iMez4qUazHg4/s1600/2jesters.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBRKXBthyNYMcRN58GfXI4Qz0HOVwGkKBbyzVEipUu7XSdAWavehcf0f5zcT7qSslC52Bq-G7cBOvMkU0qwU5Em2V9GBX7Y44H9Q5cMPB5bVDAssxYfJ_qy2651GqiDPO-iMez4qUazHg4/s1600/2jesters.jpg" height="239" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
You dress up your musical instrument like your main character:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXylrUvXHBNt1uyaJ6p8rtXqFehzc1l4Kwj8FvN6UdhOGWinm4zTGFWUmAlJ0ipGK9CiSDxDbyQ3oAMRpaD2Vxy-gRuCmjKlUx89Qhb3rwwkwq7gN70JLAAoLXUvksMdh4eM_Yx7nxuGYO/s1600/Organ.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXylrUvXHBNt1uyaJ6p8rtXqFehzc1l4Kwj8FvN6UdhOGWinm4zTGFWUmAlJ0ipGK9CiSDxDbyQ3oAMRpaD2Vxy-gRuCmjKlUx89Qhb3rwwkwq7gN70JLAAoLXUvksMdh4eM_Yx7nxuGYO/s1600/Organ.jpg" height="320" width="224" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Then things really went downhill, and I came up with these:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIzfJyNJ2G2BkPmETQdw0PJiSStmvqOq4geTTP-2awgEksPUe0dG0woJBrktTsD9BjkcDfiH4SWGye9woyYJzQtHXoOU4mkv-ghwhyg5EzxHEtPCcDg2a8qtg3dtgcXn521Y9oM4Jy10WJ/s1600/PhotoFunia-1ef9ab.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIzfJyNJ2G2BkPmETQdw0PJiSStmvqOq4geTTP-2awgEksPUe0dG0woJBrktTsD9BjkcDfiH4SWGye9woyYJzQtHXoOU4mkv-ghwhyg5EzxHEtPCcDg2a8qtg3dtgcXn521Y9oM4Jy10WJ/s1600/PhotoFunia-1ef9ab.jpg" height="265" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8MNDqYni2i439wafkbeKAQM3iFPI7pLKlBaWFECJCoxxA69KdyLMwa8VA3NRh_AJ-ZAGRa90gOQzp-88BUaPdhd8VAyJVaqHisLY_EcoFn5EV7iJl3MaNbGbN0xBNUr_uCDjzVaQcZLZH/s1600/PhotoFunia-503920.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8MNDqYni2i439wafkbeKAQM3iFPI7pLKlBaWFECJCoxxA69KdyLMwa8VA3NRh_AJ-ZAGRa90gOQzp-88BUaPdhd8VAyJVaqHisLY_EcoFn5EV7iJl3MaNbGbN0xBNUr_uCDjzVaQcZLZH/s1600/PhotoFunia-503920.jpg" height="358" width="400" /> </a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7D1oEoxepYKPNlpW3Xu1kNvW137FzNIbTiVvo5s_PWs6F_pErYRsjZGoh5qAmgW0rpFQ30ezV5XkrN2Wu7p0eJKZjJFSUy4EJVzavr58nLYFd1iBb1R5dX6wlK6pBJuhWDZ_niV_UL9eP/s1600/Pulp-O-Mizer_Cover_Image(1).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7D1oEoxepYKPNlpW3Xu1kNvW137FzNIbTiVvo5s_PWs6F_pErYRsjZGoh5qAmgW0rpFQ30ezV5XkrN2Wu7p0eJKZjJFSUy4EJVzavr58nLYFd1iBb1R5dX6wlK6pBJuhWDZ_niV_UL9eP/s1600/Pulp-O-Mizer_Cover_Image(1).jpg" height="400" width="261" /></a></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgamC9faJPIjrDP3je71efB73YHrnYfWiDlCOmTDcY5e0Kh6_QxnzFsMN_3OMrLO0Jow19yHTHdZWYgKnH5PX4zmG1eJpJkPeEpWZHedS9rsWNxO2snj5QeloJmZGhswdJX-qMUsevQ70FB/s1600/Pulp-O-Mizer_Cover_Image(4).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgamC9faJPIjrDP3je71efB73YHrnYfWiDlCOmTDcY5e0Kh6_QxnzFsMN_3OMrLO0Jow19yHTHdZWYgKnH5PX4zmG1eJpJkPeEpWZHedS9rsWNxO2snj5QeloJmZGhswdJX-qMUsevQ70FB/s1600/Pulp-O-Mizer_Cover_Image(4).jpg" height="400" width="261" /></a></div>
<br />
If you've stayed with me this long, you'll realize that no matter <i>what</i> you think of my book, I'm a better writer than I am a saleswoman. I'd pretty much have to be. You should also, despite all the silliness, have a pretty good idea by now what the book is about. I hope I've piqued your interest, and that you'll acquire the book, read it, and enjoy it. <br />
<br />
And if you'd like to read a bit more about it in a more serious vein before deciding, you could always take a look at my <a href="http://www.tinneyheath.com/" target="_blank">website</a>, or at my <a href="http://www.fireshippress.com/fireship_authors/tinney-s-heath.html" target="_blank">author page</a> on the website of my publisher, Fireship Press. <br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Images of the gallery and of Putin and his colleagues come from a fun site called <a href="http://photofunia.com/" target="_blank">PhotoFunia</a>. Pulp covers are from <a href="http://thrilling-tales.webomator.com/derange-o-lab/pulp-o-mizer/pulp-o-mizer.html" target="_blank">Pulp-o-Mizer</a>. </span>Tinney Heathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18383946402836289511noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4025295042007800999.post-75897074831129188752014-10-05T09:11:00.001-07:002014-10-05T09:11:43.662-07:00When a one-star review is in verse...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzGIRBm0-Ei4NAtaYGss2vgtG82B8a6pWlxVFQRnZ1blF2LxTETJqUIfqMHq4Mj6GJKLDoEfFdUxRbhaJhJTH4wpSVuPcuV5_hOvhB6kEh6cJ_rmOq6DIIBXPQcyjSKwD0QEYOFS1ByWQK/s1600/512px-Codex_Manesse_Schulmeister_von_Esslingen.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzGIRBm0-Ei4NAtaYGss2vgtG82B8a6pWlxVFQRnZ1blF2LxTETJqUIfqMHq4Mj6GJKLDoEfFdUxRbhaJhJTH4wpSVuPcuV5_hOvhB6kEh6cJ_rmOq6DIIBXPQcyjSKwD0QEYOFS1ByWQK/s1600/512px-Codex_Manesse_Schulmeister_von_Esslingen.jpg" height="640" width="451" /> </a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-size: large;">*....</span></b></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
When a one-star review is in verse,</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
It somehow makes everything worse.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
In their zeal to convince,</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Critics make authors wince,</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
And whine, carp, bemoan, bitch, and curse.</div>
</blockquote>
<br />
The limericks have arrived! My talented readers have sent in their contributions, as requested in my last post (find it<a href="http://historicalfictionresearch.blogspot.com/2014/09/there-once-was-one-star-reviewer.html" target="_blank"> here</a>): Give us your rude, your snarky, your obnoxious book reviews in limerick form. They arrived in the Comments section, in email, by Facebook, and even by phone. Some used the first line I provided ("There once was a one-star reviewer..."), while others started from scratch.<br />
<br />
For your reading pleasure, here they are, with authors identified as they identified themselves to me.<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
There once was a one-star reviewer<br />
Who cast titles into the sewer.<br />
Authors cried foul!<br />
With many a howl<br />
But the one-stars came faster not fewer. --Seri Good</blockquote>
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
I have the name of an edit-or,<br />
that just might help this book sell more.<br />
Till then it's a mess,<br />
and I must confess,<br />
I use it to hold open the door... --Prue Batten</blockquote>
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
There once was a one-star reviewer<br />
Who hungered each novel to skewer<br />
And his only regret—<br />
He could never beget<br />
A rating of any stars fewer. --Deb Atwood</blockquote>
<br />
<br />
This next one is not a limerick, but I felt that it nonetheless contained the very essence of limerick-ness, so it's included.<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<b>Your Novel's One-Star Review</b><br />
<br />
The writing was awful, the characters worse--<br />
I wanted to send them all off in a hearse.<br />
The plotline was boring, the action scenes tame,<br />
And far worse than that, all the romance was lame.<br />
The spelling was quirky, the grammar awry,<br />
Punctuation changed wildly with no reason why.<br />
Perhaps it gets better, when all's said and done,<br />
But I couldn't force myself past chapter one. --Julia West</blockquote>
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
There once was a one-star reviewer<br />
Who loved to drag books through the sewer,<br />
Whose great joy in life<br />
Was to generate strife,<br />
And proclaim there was no one as truer! --Kathryn Louise Wood </blockquote>
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Your book was a waste of my time.<br />
Why make the poor hero a mime?<br />
Write a strong female lead,<br />
With a magical steed,<br />
Add some teenage angst – now <i>that's</i> sublime! --Linda Wendt</blockquote>
<br />
<br />
And just to round things off, I've included a couple more by my alter ego, Sven Leonardo MacGeneric:<br />
<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
There's way too much grammar-abusing,<br />
And the plot is absurdly confusing.<br />
If you've got to sell dreck,<br />
At least employ Spellcheck -<br />
And besides, it's not even amusing.</blockquote>
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
It desperately needs a good edit<br />
(Or maybe we ought to just shred it).<br />
The writing's outrageous,<br />
There's too many pages,<br />
And if there's a sequel, I dread it.</blockquote>
<br />
<br />
And that's it. Many thanks to my talented contributors (especially for getting me off the hook for coming up with a new post this week), and here's hoping that none of us will be the recipients of any such scurrilous reviews anytime soon.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCZgocnDILFpEXX_-sl7-RwpOkcxncwGEK5y1qazeQfqgQLneKIZ_-XgfpjsgdiLloyj3asRhdCKgQxGFw0kozt82kEM8H1v9SQZQAoN353-Ry0u23wzY3DZ_kEHMFYyW_6J7NrGk-_q5g/s1600/Codex_Manesse_362r_Rudolf_der_Schreiber.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCZgocnDILFpEXX_-sl7-RwpOkcxncwGEK5y1qazeQfqgQLneKIZ_-XgfpjsgdiLloyj3asRhdCKgQxGFw0kozt82kEM8H1v9SQZQAoN353-Ry0u23wzY3DZ_kEHMFYyW_6J7NrGk-_q5g/s1600/Codex_Manesse_362r_Rudolf_der_Schreiber.jpg" height="400" width="271" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Images are in the public domain by virtue of being reallyreallyreally old.</span>Tinney Heathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18383946402836289511noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4025295042007800999.post-56964039348477811142014-09-27T12:35:00.002-07:002014-09-27T12:35:46.476-07:00There once was a one-star reviewer...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4hGkc_y-tnnm2Hw_R7qeymeheuIjtmk0kWahWyuI_lulTLZo_GqFOr8SZ_Nblq-TUxQb4q2V0xtTN2GHmGBEG9tfW3xw3RDm1aOMXIa7RLTBOruYIrjuX85gN5pe3U10ZfeY9G8gddEQZ/s1600/18thcentmanwritinglic.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4hGkc_y-tnnm2Hw_R7qeymeheuIjtmk0kWahWyuI_lulTLZo_GqFOr8SZ_Nblq-TUxQb4q2V0xtTN2GHmGBEG9tfW3xw3RDm1aOMXIa7RLTBOruYIrjuX85gN5pe3U10ZfeY9G8gddEQZ/s1600/18thcentmanwritinglic.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4hGkc_y-tnnm2Hw_R7qeymeheuIjtmk0kWahWyuI_lulTLZo_GqFOr8SZ_Nblq-TUxQb4q2V0xtTN2GHmGBEG9tfW3xw3RDm1aOMXIa7RLTBOruYIrjuX85gN5pe3U10ZfeY9G8gddEQZ/s1600/18thcentmanwritinglic.jpg" height="400" width="258" /> </a></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Okay, faithful readers, it's time for a little audience participation. I'd like for you to contemplate the idea I'm about to suggest, and then send me your own versions, either here on the blog or by email or on Facebook. I will then compile whatever comes in and feature your masterpieces in a future post. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Here's what I want you to think about: What would the world be like if people who wanted to put up one- or two-star reviews on Amazon were required to do it in the form of poetry? </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Intrigued by this idea, I did a little experimenting. I played around with rondeaus, sonnets (Italian and otherwise), and even a bit of terza rima, which works a whole lot better in Italian than it does in English. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
But I have a sneaking suspicion that most Amazon reviewers wouldn't want to bother with the more complex forms. Perhaps some of them would even prefer not to have to rhyme. For those who can count to seventeen, they could always attempt haiku instead. For example:</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Book beckons.
Great cover, good blurbs.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Too bad - it costs more
than two dollars.</div>
</blockquote>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
But really, I think our form of choice for this exercise can only be the limerick. What else, after all, lends itself so perfectly to the art form of writing negative reviews?</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
With that in mind, here are a few to start you off. First, we'll continue the "I want it cheap" theme suggested by the haiku above:</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
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</div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The worst of this
publisher's vices</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Is the way it
insists on high prices.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
But I know how to
reach 'em -</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
This one-star will
teach 'em!</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-style: normal;">Now
</span><i>that</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> ought to trigger
a crisis!</span></div>
</blockquote>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-style: normal;"> And another one for the folks I think of as Dumpster-Divers-of-the-Mind:</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
<style type="text/css">P { margin-bottom: 0.08in; }</style>
</div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I'm returning this
e-book for credit.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
(Never mind that
I've already read it.)</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I get bad
heebie-jeebies</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
When novels aren't
freebies.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
So there. Now I've
come out and said it.</div>
</blockquote>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Here's one that uses that kiss-of-death phrase that is the reviewer's equivalent of "I'm telling you this as a friend":</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
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</div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
If you value your immortal soul,</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Don't touch this with a fifteen-foot
pole.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Though the author can shove it,</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I <i>wanted</i><span style="font-style: normal;">
to love it,</span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
So that proves I
can't be a troll.</div>
</blockquote>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
And there's always the "I'm an expert" review:</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
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</div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
This book claims to
be a historical,</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
But the research is
quite sophomorical.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I'm a pro on this
topic</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
(I watched the
biopic!);</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
My opinion is thus
categorical.</div>
</blockquote>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Then, too, there's the "This isn't sexy enough" review:</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
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</div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Some have said that
this novel is gripping,
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
But I'd rather have
hot bodice-ripping.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Though it's surely
complex,</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
There's just not
enough sex,</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
And it needs quite
a bit more unzipping.</div>
</blockquote>
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<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
And its companion, the "This is too sexy" review:</div>
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<style type="text/css">P { margin-bottom: 0.08in; }</style>
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<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The language is way
too explicit,</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
There are couplings
both hot and illicit.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Decent folks are
refusing</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
To keep on
perusing</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Such garbage. So
we'll just dismiss it.</div>
</blockquote>
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<br /></div>
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I come by this sort of silliness naturally. Years ago, when I was active in the Society for Creative Anachronism, I created a poetic alter ego named Sven Leonardo MacGeneric, who expressed himself in doggerel (and was, in fact, once named Doggerel Laureate for the local barony). Here are a couple of examples from Sven's notorious output:</div>
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From a long narrative poem about Tristan and Isolde:</div>
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<br /></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
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Now heroes are bold, and they're brave, and they're noble, </div>
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But "bright" isn't always a prominent trait.</div>
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Though his lady wife lied,</div>
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Tristan still up and died.</div>
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When his love stepped ashore, he was lying in state.</div>
</blockquote>
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<br /></div>
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Or this snippet from a poem entitled "On Watching the Children at a Tourney":</div>
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<br /></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
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In a hamlet called Hamlin, a long time ago,</div>
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A piper appeared one fine day.</div>
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He tootled a tune, played it high, played it low,</div>
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And the kiddies, they all danced away.</div>
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Oh, who was that sinister, dangerous man?</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
And why did the wee ones heed him?</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
And why has he never come back again?</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
And where is he now, when we need him?</div>
</blockquote>
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<br /></div>
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Anyway, send me your limericks - you can tackle the reviewers who complain about the packaging, the ones who couldn't be bothered to read the book, the ones who completely missed the point, or whatever you like. Extra credit, too, for finishing the limerick started in the title to this post. Bring 'em on! I can't wait to read them.</div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Picture at the top of this post is licensed via the Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported license to Mazeface, found in Wikimedia Commons Images. </span></div>
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<br />Tinney Heathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18383946402836289511noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4025295042007800999.post-1250314027517123702014-09-21T09:47:00.000-07:002014-09-21T09:47:10.994-07:00In praise of older writers<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuSRQiAjpu54hlgMxtfPqB3BYIm9aDR9HRfeienRCNmnnW3mrFqUfSvldrv370nzZLw7JEyLNo_LDqci-XCkCkq2SsXzcRbwXcrQ1pjtKQx-59_-V_v5cJEF65o9dZiK_3nnjh3mx10EFv/s1600/Alte_Weiber_Tripsdrill.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuSRQiAjpu54hlgMxtfPqB3BYIm9aDR9HRfeienRCNmnnW3mrFqUfSvldrv370nzZLw7JEyLNo_LDqci-XCkCkq2SsXzcRbwXcrQ1pjtKQx-59_-V_v5cJEF65o9dZiK_3nnjh3mx10EFv/s1600/Alte_Weiber_Tripsdrill.jpg" height="400" width="348" /></a></div>
<br />
Last night my husband and I attempted to watch a movie. Within the first few minutes it became obvious that it was a young people's movie. Within the first ten minutes it became obvious that it was <i>only</i> a young people's movie. And within another five minutes, we had turned it off.<br />
<br />
Did we turn it off because it was too edgy for us? Because we couldn't keep up with its breakneck pace? Because we were bewildered by its ever-so-clever, modern, cutting-edge repartee?<br />
<br />
No. We turned it off because we were bored. Because all the characters were so full of “attitude” that they were utterly, yawningly predictable and shallow. <br />
<br />
And that got me thinking about age, and how it plays into this writing game. There seems to be an assumption out there that you need to be writing by your early twenties, published by thirty, at the peak of your career by forty. If you haven't done these things, it's never going to happen.<br />
<br />
You know what? It's a lot of codwollop. <br />
<br />
It's certainly true that we live in a youth-obsessed culture, where people are reading Young Adult books well into their 30s and 40s. I have a friend in her late 60s, smart, multi-lingual, with a graduate degree, who reads almost exclusively YA and children's literature. She finds excellent books in those categories, and they give her the kind of reading experience she's looking for. I'm not trying to second-guess her preferences, but I do think they tell us something about our society.<br />
<br />
Perhaps the message is that of a perennial starting over, the constant reinvention of self, in the form of one coming-of-age story after another. But shouldn't there also be something out there for the person who wants to start from where she is? From the place where she's already arrived? And how can such a story be written by someone who hasn't yet lived her own life to that point?<br />
<br />
The other day I saw a spate of articles around the web asserting that one must never, ever leave two spaces after a period, because that would make it obvious: the author's over 40. And nothing could be worse than that, right? <br />
<br />
It reminds me of a parody I once saw of Cosmopolitan, that breathless women's magazine, with articles like “Girls <i>Obviously</i> from Ohio.”<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKtQlokw04qzAjtpSMoNLiIUzOB5qPgKZM3cFUn2ZKUAUlZAx6VtSNyBQ7NXv-J8Zg7jLmEsqSY8hfeQ2KMzt5Xe0cyIf0izsvjGoEB_EjbPkX5H6wL7nAfZ1lUey6p6grefN8U0ZoxL-5/s1600/512px-Domenico_Ghirlandaio_-_Homem_Velho_e_seu_Neto_-_c1480.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKtQlokw04qzAjtpSMoNLiIUzOB5qPgKZM3cFUn2ZKUAUlZAx6VtSNyBQ7NXv-J8Zg7jLmEsqSY8hfeQ2KMzt5Xe0cyIf0izsvjGoEB_EjbPkX5H6wL7nAfZ1lUey6p6grefN8U0ZoxL-5/s1600/512px-Domenico_Ghirlandaio_-_Homem_Velho_e_seu_Neto_-_c1480.jpg" height="320" width="234" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Tell me again, boy - why can't I leave two spaces after a period?"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Who makes up these rules, anyway? Who set in motion the thought form that says older people just starting on their writing careers are pitiable, pathetic, not to be taken seriously? Or perhaps, if you're kinder, a little bit sweet and quaint? <br />
<br />
But we all know the cliché of the kid who peaked in high school, right? The one who can't stop reliving the senior prom, or that one amazing football game? <br />
<br />
You want to talk about pitiable and pathetic? <br />
<br />
What, exactly, is wrong with waiting until you actually have something to say?<br />
<br />
Let me hasten to say that I do know several young writers who are very talented. Among them are indie, small press, mainstream-published, and not-yet-published authors. They have a lot of promise, and I predict that someday some of them will be very, very good indeed. But most of them have not peaked yet. No, not even the ones who are published by a big publishing house and selling well. They may be pretty good now, but they have it in them to be better – in the fullness of time. <br />
<br />
And that's one reason it's so painful to watch some of them listen to their own hype. They start to think they're as good as their social media pals tell them they are, and then they start going back and pubbing early works that would be best left forgotten. They start to believe they are already as good as it gets.<br />
<br />
That's the kind of mindset that makes the 16-year-old down the street get as many tattoos as she can afford, because she just knows she's going to love them forever, whereas I have been around long enough to know that if I were to do something like that, I'd change enough to hate it in six months.<br />
<br />
I recently read an interesting interview on the Huffington Post with Sonya Chung, one of the founders of the website <a href="http://bloom-site.com/" target="_blank">Bloom</a>, which features authors whose first books were published when they were 40 or older. You can find the interview <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/theo-pauline-nestor/bloom-supporting-debut-no_b_2247774.html" target="_blank">here</a>. One of the things she said that I thought made a lot of sense was this:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
“But the truth of it is that the majority of writers take a lot of time to write their best work, that detours happen, and sometimes those detours can be very fruitful (whether they happen willingly or not).”</blockquote>
Not long ago I followed a string of comments on Facebook in which some young writer sneered about “sex scenes written by people over fifty.”<br />
<br />
Oh, sweetie... if you only knew. Do the math, luv. When do you think the baby boomers grew up? Could it possibly have been in the 60's and the early 70's? Perhaps you think those times were the equivalent of the Victorian era (which, come to think of it, had a pretty racy underside of its own), since it's all so long ago you can't tell the difference, but let me assure you, that's not quite how it was. We did know a thing or two about sex. Some of us, believe it or not, are still at it. <br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFp11lBGz6iaVcGla7Vk_CuRtsW5i5KLXTPCCSWBrLVOHI6U30HX69gipQ3mfw7-3vuTcwA_3YA8XR33WAVJQLvO61D7J-rieqKQjNtwz3g_zq0xEYKrqgrcWC1oGTHewrCnN1HPIUR2P9/s1600/ArtandCraftslalalic.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFp11lBGz6iaVcGla7Vk_CuRtsW5i5KLXTPCCSWBrLVOHI6U30HX69gipQ3mfw7-3vuTcwA_3YA8XR33WAVJQLvO61D7J-rieqKQjNtwz3g_zq0xEYKrqgrcWC1oGTHewrCnN1HPIUR2P9/s1600/ArtandCraftslalalic.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></div>
<br />
Sure, it feels odd to see a book set in my growing-up years classified as a “historical.” But everything becomes historical if you wait long enough. Even today's twenty-somethings. <br />
<br />
I have one writer friend who industriously talked to older people to get a sense of how they felt about things, as a part of her research. I give her full marks for that, but believe me, if you think it's weird to see your childhood written up as “historical,” just try finding that you've become somebody's research. Of course, while a young person may have to research what my experience is like, I can remember perfectly well when I was her age, so that does rather give me the advantage.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJEtfpZlcqmNVIG4YClUwUF_R1vt9VWJ41WStJ0_ufp_d6VQmdJuiaqf2B7ZuIeNJ6trvrEc9XEby_pVJpltlJah5QuRkyO171kRzXXsMuRYekZ31eZDX8XyCxCpqYxFTtyylmz_re-31O/s1600/512px-Oatmeal_(1).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJEtfpZlcqmNVIG4YClUwUF_R1vt9VWJ41WStJ0_ufp_d6VQmdJuiaqf2B7ZuIeNJ6trvrEc9XEby_pVJpltlJah5QuRkyO171kRzXXsMuRYekZ31eZDX8XyCxCpqYxFTtyylmz_re-31O/s1600/512px-Oatmeal_(1).jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
My own personal allegory for older writers is based on the oatmeal story. For those of you who don't know it, it goes something like this:<br />
<br />
A little boy grew up normal and healthy in every way, except that he did not speak. His parents were bewildered; they knew his hearing was normal, he was intelligent, and they could find no explanation for his silence. Yet, year after year, he did not speak. Finally, one morning when when he was nine years old, his parents were amazed to hear him say with crystalline clarity, “This oatmeal's lumpy.” <br />
<br />
His parents wept with joy. They hugged him and danced around the kitchen, overwhelmed at this new development. Finally his father stopped celebrating long enough to say, “But son, why haven't you said anything before this?”<br />
<br />
And the boy said, quite reasonably, “Everything was okay until now.”<br />
<br />
That would be me. Me, and most of the genuinely interesting authors whose work I've read recently. We've spent a lot of years living as hard as we could, and now we've got something to say and we're going to say it. Some of us, quite possibly, with two spaces between sentences.<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Images in this post are in the public domain, with the exception of the "Arts & Crafts" picture of the two aging hippies, which is licensed under the Creative Common Attribution 3.0 Unported license to Idran.</span><br />
<br />Tinney Heathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18383946402836289511noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4025295042007800999.post-78927915680411390652014-09-12T09:49:00.000-07:002014-09-12T09:49:49.348-07:00A Researcher's Rant (or: Why won't all those dates hold still?!?)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwrLs1_cLk9QXz5GulP8IPdUpvvX-YgofY4tdyXSvflKKM3mBeWwVMf6ehancs-kz2XJ3JtUbJmvvbRlK4kPmoZNOCGqdLdFHw0p7mnUAZMjPvekcAoLsHvjNmruLcugDYTfMOb0UNTQVY/s1600/512px-SteacieLibrary.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwrLs1_cLk9QXz5GulP8IPdUpvvX-YgofY4tdyXSvflKKM3mBeWwVMf6ehancs-kz2XJ3JtUbJmvvbRlK4kPmoZNOCGqdLdFHw0p7mnUAZMjPvekcAoLsHvjNmruLcugDYTfMOb0UNTQVY/s1600/512px-SteacieLibrary.jpg" height="300" width="400" /> </a></div>
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In my home I currently have 28 books about the life of Saint Francis of Assisi (including four library books and four on my Kindle). Oh, wait - there's another one in today's mail. Make that 29. Many, many more, from the public library as well as the university library, have already been here, stayed a while, and then gone back home, leaving behind copious notes and photocopies.</div>
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Most are in English, some in Italian. In addition, I have lots of books on the history of Assisi, and of Rome, and of the papacy, and of the church in the middle ages. And there are literally thousands more books out there that deal specifically with Francis's life - page after page after page of them listed in the university's online catalogue, for example. </div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBA9W45LmpZZMxh8NNLPmGeB8NmPKOCUUiLdqPaRXBV4s6XGMDmzFh8_5XS9RbIpqzJadaV6Tcj55tarmWOSKSvZxQg2XuBCnpOriR6B_orGwzcCFrCNslgx1BY-DSrK9RhDsvZ7qDM3-r/s1600/IMG_1668.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBA9W45LmpZZMxh8NNLPmGeB8NmPKOCUUiLdqPaRXBV4s6XGMDmzFh8_5XS9RbIpqzJadaV6Tcj55tarmWOSKSvZxQg2XuBCnpOriR6B_orGwzcCFrCNslgx1BY-DSrK9RhDsvZ7qDM3-r/s1600/IMG_1668.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some of the current batch</td></tr>
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So you'd think I'd be able to zero in on a few useful dates for my work in progress, wouldn't you? Especially since Francis is not even my main character?</div>
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Nah... no such luck. I'm pretty sure no two scholars would produce exactly the same timeline for Francis. I tell you, it's enough to drive a researcher stark raving bonkers.</div>
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In the marvelously funny little book <i>1066 and All That</i>, by W.C. Sellar and R. J. Yeatman, the authors take on the task of composing "a memorable history of England," meaning only the bits people (mis)remember. Or, as the blurb says:</div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
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Comprising all the parts you can remember, including one hundred and three <i>good</i> things, five <i>bad</i> kings, and two <i>genuine</i> dates.</div>
</blockquote>
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Two <i>genuine</i> dates is about what I've got to work with. Sellar & Yeatman had 55 B.C., "in which year Julius Caesar (the <i>memorable</i> Roman Emperor) landed, like all other successful invaders of these islands, at Thanet" and 1066, "the other memorable date in English History," when "William I (1066) conquered England at the Battle of Senlac (Ten Sixty-six)." That last one must have been <i>very</i> memorable.</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivv7R4aU6dKIOA2YDaLSp3NodWtvH2SA7Y1fRdEIt0_To89BFshAs2l4SNSpFLBpA0kfbazLDPSI65vXHUyA-CJmmuLLWz6k4nELOVJ1ETXM3UEXi1Cis-kG4doa1Ij0gY3tuIIFGKGXkz/s1600/Koncil.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivv7R4aU6dKIOA2YDaLSp3NodWtvH2SA7Y1fRdEIt0_To89BFshAs2l4SNSpFLBpA0kfbazLDPSI65vXHUyA-CJmmuLLWz6k4nELOVJ1ETXM3UEXi1Cis-kG4doa1Ij0gY3tuIIFGKGXkz/s1600/Koncil.jpg" height="192" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">13th century depiction of Fourth Lateran Council</td></tr>
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And me? I've got the date of the Fourth Lateran Council (it began in November 1215) and the date of Francis's death (in October 1226). Pretty much everything else is contested. </div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLl5aU9Zm165ysytm0BRFcqIHsO55qn2agZlJET50rtItqNaueGnMIVzbv2AdrJUX57BfWoOI6K-YWeW7G7Inbm7gR-VsWb_EtFuDAkkKQLlUvvXZORGUHBc83CNdSuaeoHtKWitQi3bGR/s1600/Giotto_di_Bondone_-_Scenes_from_the_Life_of_Saint_Francis_-_4._Death_and_Ascension_of_St_Francis_(detail)_-_WGA09308.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLl5aU9Zm165ysytm0BRFcqIHsO55qn2agZlJET50rtItqNaueGnMIVzbv2AdrJUX57BfWoOI6K-YWeW7G7Inbm7gR-VsWb_EtFuDAkkKQLlUvvXZORGUHBc83CNdSuaeoHtKWitQi3bGR/s1600/Giotto_di_Bondone_-_Scenes_from_the_Life_of_Saint_Francis_-_4._Death_and_Ascension_of_St_Francis_(detail)_-_WGA09308.jpg" height="260" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Giotto di Bondone, Death of Francis</td></tr>
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What if I want to know when the famous Chapter of Mats, that great gathering of Franciscans, was held? Was it in 1217, 1219, 1220, 1221? Was it actually a compendium of several of the above?</div>
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According to my sources, yes. Thanks, guys.</div>
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And what if I need to know how long Peter of Cattania was minister general of the order? Good luck with that. We know when he died, but not when he took over. He either did or didn't hold the position long enough to run a chapter meeting. I can find you people who will swear to both positions.</div>
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What about Elias? When, exactly, did he go to the Middle East? 1216? 1217? Earlier? Later? On a need-to-know basis, I need to know this.</div>
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And my own main character, Giacoma dei Settesoli: when did she meet Francis? When was she widowed? Did she move to Assisi immediately after Francis died in 1226, or years later, just prior to her own death in 1239 (unless of course that actually happened in 1273...)? Was she present at Francis's death, or had she gone home by then? </div>
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Either she's there ...</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD6OhxvHUF98awZZbpJZunjJhQVLAIsyXVfI9-Y3jLNhfkHMX1jTWp2bR1Xm2-MFzMX-XcnTNghcQU_n1XJyPgMWEDkaBkRefQxZ-UbFjiEjjr1y8s5Ocu02Hk7Keo-Bf_wpsHqWNKnARw/s1600/Josep_Benlliure_Gil48.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD6OhxvHUF98awZZbpJZunjJhQVLAIsyXVfI9-Y3jLNhfkHMX1jTWp2bR1Xm2-MFzMX-XcnTNghcQU_n1XJyPgMWEDkaBkRefQxZ-UbFjiEjjr1y8s5Ocu02Hk7Keo-Bf_wpsHqWNKnARw/s1600/Josep_Benlliure_Gil48.jpg" height="254" width="320" /></a></div>
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or she's not there...</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0MqxGEC31rifFYsnCR4UQKoClN_BpglEgXfVY3X3IUGt1pHP_AQnMLzu63cYsz4JmqhhUIBWuDoCh0bl7wBk8Rx3iFr9U3QqO61YWhLso4h4Uc1xgoNi8euiZWG1Y8MfVWNUA7Bk4y5Ja/s1600/Josep_Benlliure_Gil46.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0MqxGEC31rifFYsnCR4UQKoClN_BpglEgXfVY3X3IUGt1pHP_AQnMLzu63cYsz4JmqhhUIBWuDoCh0bl7wBk8Rx3iFr9U3QqO61YWhLso4h4Uc1xgoNi8euiZWG1Y8MfVWNUA7Bk4y5Ja/s1600/Josep_Benlliure_Gil46.jpg" height="254" width="320" /></a></div>
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Well, that sort of thing may well be important, you may say, but surely you can fudge a few dates. You don't have to mention an exact date when you're writing fiction. Just tell the story. </div>
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Okay, but when you can't even get agreement on the sequence in which things happened, it's difficult to keep your causal relationships straight. If Event A preceded Event B, it is possible to hypothesize that something in Event A may have caused, exacerbated, or paved the way for Event B. But if it turns out they happened in the opposite order, all bets are off. And that's a simple one, with only two components. Usually there are more. </div>
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And of course it's not only the date discrepancies that matter. I've got about a dozen different lists of Francis's earliest followers, the ones who accompanied him to Rome (in whichever year that was...) to meet with Pope Innocent III. And did Francis actually meet Dominic, that other great leader of a newly-hatched mendicant order? Some say yes, some say no. And if they did meet, was it during the Fourth Lateran, or some other time and place? I've got plenty of people advocating every possible position on this, including that they never met at all, and that neither one was actually present at the Fourth Lateran. At least we can find them together in certain works of art:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgai5vUxZ9NWPIhnN0FynAsqOmacrhIk65MvrCBRWCCXbzAw3Qp5kJNrpiTvK3Qs36Stiz-MXBQVdpXlYV2yFF-5AR_BB_YfBxc0NzsmsDK2pyaat9mUwKE3QkH_bfzLefsTsNKyhy_r6hi/s1600/512px-Madonna_Enthroned_with_the_Child_St_Francis_St_Domenico_and_two_Angels,_Cimabue.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgai5vUxZ9NWPIhnN0FynAsqOmacrhIk65MvrCBRWCCXbzAw3Qp5kJNrpiTvK3Qs36Stiz-MXBQVdpXlYV2yFF-5AR_BB_YfBxc0NzsmsDK2pyaat9mUwKE3QkH_bfzLefsTsNKyhy_r6hi/s1600/512px-Madonna_Enthroned_with_the_Child_St_Francis_St_Domenico_and_two_Angels,_Cimabue.jpg" height="400" width="243" /></a></div>
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So what's a fiction writer to do? </div>
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Well, first you can make some distinctions among sources. Some writers are more reliable than others, based on any number of factors: what materials they had available at the time they were writing, whether they are specialists or generalists, and (in the case of Francis) whether they are writing under church auspices or not. (That last one can be a two-edged sword.) Some may just have a more readable style than others, and may appeal to you more. </div>
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However you do it, it's usually possible to narrow the field down to a handful of sources you feel you can trust to some degree. My experience is that they will still disagree, but you'll feel somewhat better about any choices you eventually make if one or more of these high-quality sources supports you.</div>
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Secondly, you've got to keep your story uppermost in your mind. If you have to make strategic choices in order to get the story you want, then that's what you're going to do. Ideally, you'll be able to keep your choices within the realm of plausibility, however. If you can't, you're not really writing historical fiction any more, and I for one would find it less satisfying. I wanted Francis present for the Fourth Lateran, so in my book, that's where you'll find him. But if any of my sources had managed to convince me that his presence then and there was not possible, I would not have used it. </div>
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Thirdly, the choices you make will be influenced by your feelings about the characters. You will not be neutral. If you <i>are</i> neutral, I submit that this is not your story to write. In my case, I needed to know not only Francis's history insofar as I could, but I had to evolve my own responses to him and to his message. I had to know whether I thought Elias was the devil incarnate, as so many have implied, or a well-meaning scapegoat whose talents actually helped keep the Franciscan order alive. Or, perhaps most likely, something much more complex, more involved, more thoroughly human than either of the extremes. And whatever choice I made, it influenced how I saw his personal timeline - what he did, what happened to him, what made him who he was, or at least who I think he was: if <i>this </i>happened, it would have affected him in a particular way, whereas if it hadn't happened yet, perhaps <i>that</i> would be more likely. Dates are pervasive; they affect everything.</div>
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I've made my choices. It was not an easy process, and nothing in it was a foregone conclusion, but I believe I have honored the demands of plausibility while telling a story that holds meaning for me. </div>
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Maybe next time I'll pick a period where things are better documented. Maybe there'll be newspapers. Or detailed public records. Or something. But probably not, since I'm inordinately fond of medieval Italy. </div>
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Do you suppose the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Akashic_records" target="_blank">akashic records</a> have a decent search engine?</div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Illustrations in this post are all in the public domain.</span></div>
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Tinney Heathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18383946402836289511noreply@blogger.com1