Textile

The second day of the ISAS conference consisted of morning child duty and an intense afternoon of lectures. Simon Keynes chaired Session V at two-thirty and I did not, in fact, work up the courage to ask for his autograph, though I did nearly bump into him on the stair. There was a quick glance at my name tag, a polite smile, and the realization that he had absolutely no idea who I was, which was true for most, as in a crowd of such intellects I felt indeed a nobody. That didn’t stop me from enjoying Dr. Scott T. Smith’s presentation of “Latin Diplomas and the Turn to Verse in the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle.” Using plenty of examples from the AS Chronicle including the Battle of Brunanburh, Smith remarked that just like the Chronicle, other prose sources, such as charters and writs, were also making the turn to verse with increasingly elaborate introductions and prayers. “Five Anglo-Saxon Guilds and How They Grew” by Dr. Patrick W. Conner took specific information from the guild regulatory statutes of Cambridge, Exeter and others and compared their growth and membership rules. The first internal guild regulatory statute was that of a guild in Exeter, believed to date from c. 928. As it and so many other statutes were found in gospel books, Conner suggested a substantial connection between such guilds and the Church. Interestingly, nearly all the statutes included specific components, like benedictions, rules for the organization of their guild feast, and, notably, the weregild for all guild members. During the question and answer session, Dr. Conner also elaborated on female participation in guild life and the placement of the guild statutes in gospel books functioning as oath books for the members. The third paper by Lisa Weston “Enclosing the Space of Miracle” investigated Anglo-Saxon miracle stories and a particular group of nuns, but, I’m sorry to say, I believe I nodded off somewhere. Until, that is, Westen concluded the answer to someone’s question with “…very phallic female body,” upon which mention Dr. Keynes cleared his throat and said to the assembly, “Right. You’ve earned your tea,” and dismissed us immediately for the break.

I was a bit worried about the sixth session chaired by Dr. Éamonn Ó Carragáin as it was all intensely literary in nature and focused entirely on Elene and Andreas. Since of the two I have only read Elene in passing, I thought I was in for a long hour and a half. The first two papers “Elene, The Anonymous Homily on the Invention of the Cross and the Acta Cyriaci: Their Dramatic Structure and Style” was very clearly presented by Dr. Vicky Bristow and, even though I was unfamiliar with the material, she drew several connections between the two works. With the use of a circular chart, Bristow demonstrated that the heart of the tale lay in Judas’ refusal to help Helena find the remains of the true cross. By choosing to suffer rather than give up the location, Judas ironically echoes the very sacrifice of Christ. This was not lost on the Anglo-Saxons, Bristow said, and she displayed an image from one particular manuscript, in which the scribe had drawn, next to Judas’ words, a small distinct cross.

Dr. Samantha Zacher from Cornell then presented “Locating Andreas: its Place in the Book, and the Book in its Place” which investigated this rather unusual piece of Anglo-Saxon literature in relation to the other works in the Vercelli book. She argued that Andreas, rather than being an odd, out-of-place, not-Beowulf-enough version of Beowulf, was a central tenet to the book and involved several interwoven themes within the manuscript itself. Her arguments were echoed by the next speaker, Dr. Andy Orchard from Toronto, with his paper “How Anglo-Saxon is Andreas” in which he agreed that despite the Italian flavor of Vercelli, the tale of Andreas was quite fittingly Anglo-Saxon. Dr. Orchard was an especially interesting lecturer and his long career and breadth of knowledge was plainly evident in his friendly and often hilarious presentation. Someday I hope to also be able to spout off forever in Old English as he did. Of all the presenters at the conference, Dr. Orchard was the sole lecturer who was introduced as “the man who put the ass in ISAS.”

I did not attend the reception at the British Museum to mingle with scholars and Sutton Hoo treasures a like—as I was on child care duty—but during the break in the day’s lectures I had a chance to meet Dr. Gale Owen-Crocker just as I was buying her book in the atrium. I was a bit taken aback by fortune, but, keeping my wits about me, asked for her autograph. There is now a very lovely note inside my copy of “Dress in Anglo-Saxon England,” which is so far my favorite souvenir from ISAS and a very interesting book; I fear she could very well be turning me from medieval text to textiles.

Traces

As it is rather difficult to blog without the advantage of internet access, my posts on the 2007 conference of the International Society of Anglo-Saxonists (30 July - 4 August) are a bit late, but hopefully nevertheless amusing. After a quick train ride from Cambridge and taxi to the hotel—children and luggage in tow—we arrived for the registration at the Senate House of the Institute of English Studies on Monday. Bearing a nifty new tote bag, free pencils and oodles of promotional materials I felt nearly as scholarly and important as the illustrious names that surrounded me. Anton Sharer gave the first plenary “Objects of Royal Representation” which, while slightly difficult to hear at times, was an excellent introduction to this year’s theme of Anglo-Saxon Traces: Her mon mæg giet gesion hiora swæð. I wasn’t able to see Dr. Westgard’s presentation on the Moore continuations and the transmission of Bede (I was on childcare duty), but while talking to him later he rather convincingly suggested that it was one particular named missionary from York who transmitted the Historia Ecclesiastica to the continent. It was fascinating to hear about his visits to a number of libraries in England and Germany, notably the Lambeth Palace Library, in order to look at manuscripts, particularly fragments of manuscripts, and analyze them. When he was examining the Moore continuations, he told me, one of his colleagues mentioned in passing that Charlemagne had once held if not read the very pages that he was reading right then. That was quite exciting to me, and I wonder if it means I ought to pursue the more textual sides of medieval scholarship in the future.

Session II was chaired by Joyce Hill of the University of Leeds and featured papers by Richard North of University College London, Juan Camilo-Silvestre & Ma. Dolores Pérez-Raja of the University of Murcia, and Lesley Abrams of Balliol College, Oxford. The second paper investigated rather particular linguistic aspects of Middle English in a rather particular English shire and was, rather particularly, above my comprehension, but the first paper, North’s, was very intriguing and even somewhat controversial. “Revenue and Real Estate: Archbishop Wulfred and the Strange Case of Cynehelm,” or, as he called it, “An Anglo-Saxon Murder Mystery,” posited that the cause of a known disagreement between Wulfred, the ninth-century Archbishop of Canterbury, and King Cynewulf—involving a particular documented fine of 120 pounds and a penitential visit to Rome—was a case of regicide. North suggested that Cynewulf had a son Cynehelm, providing several documents to prove so, and that Cynewulf was planning for his son to rule areas including parts of Kent in his own lifetime. Kent, recently and begrudgingly conquered by Mercia, opposed such a move and legend had it then that a Kentish man, Askobert—in cahoots with Cynehelm’s sister in some versions—murdered the boy. Being from Kent, the murderer was technically under the jurisdiction and control of the Archbishop of Canterbury, and Wulfred was held accountable and asked to pay the price of 120 pounds in recompense though he was not aware of the act itself. North points out that in Mercian laws of later centuries the weregild of a king is, indeed, 120 pounds, and he maintains that this price applies to earlier centuries due to the fact that the amount is also given in the earlier currency of sesterces. In the question and answer session North reiterated the point that as a lord the archbishop was responsible for the actions of his Kentish nobles—here he used an example from Beowulf—and that it would not have been a stretch of the imagination for the king to punish the archbishop accordingly, especially considering other disputes between the two men in regard to control of various monasteries.

Lesley Abrams’ paper “People of the Danelaw,” despite some technical difficulties which she handled adroitly and with a laugh, was very well presented and clearly addressed questions regarding the ethnic makeup of the average man or woman living in the Danelaw. Though I am of course interested in the goings-on of kings and queens, it’s always interesting to see how the average person was affected by the arrival of a foreign culture rather than the more well-documented leader of that culture. Using a variety of sources from charter witness lists to place names, Abrams broke down the etymology of Danelaw names to identify a particularly Anglo-Danish culture north of Watling Street that existed under Viking rule. She also investigated questions on whether or not the textual evidence suggested an immediate or gradual replacement of local elites, a rapid or slow adaptation of local English populations to Scandinavian culture, and also asked how really Danish were the people of the Danelaw. Some names, she pointed out, had particularly Danish characteristics but had melded with the English so as to create entirely new names not even found in Scandinavia. It was also nice to see her use material sources in her talk, like particular stone sculpture styles, which was somewhat rare at the conference, in addition to textual information.

That first night’s reception was mainly wine and olives, though I did get to chat with Dr. Abrams about Oxford for a bit and found out that she replaced Dr. Maurice Keen at Balliol upon his retirement a few years ago. I had the opportunity to hear a quite thorough lecture or two of his on the crusades a few years ago. Since I’m now starting to consider more British schools for doctoral work, hopefully I’ll meet many more of such friendly academics at the conference. Overall, it is still a bit overwhelming, especially since I haven’t even begun an MA yet and it is such a specialized gathering, but taking it one day at a time it is quite enlightening so far.

ISAS

The International Society of Anglo-Saxonists begins its 2007 conference in London tomorrow with a theme dedicated to traces of Anglo-Saxon England in the modern world. I will attempt to attend as many sessions as I can, though with the children in tow there might have to be time off for playtime in the park. Hopefully I can band together with some other graduate students in order to avoid being mentally crushed by the immensity of the scholarship going on at U London this week.

I am particularly interested to see Dr. Joshua Westgard's paper "Traces of Bede?: The Moore Continuations and the Transmission of Bede's Historia Ecclesiastica," Dr. Juliet Hewish's "From Alcuin to Ælfric: Tracing the Dissemination of the Life of St Martin in late Anglo-Saxon England" as well as Dr. Frederick Biggs' "The Demise of Joint Kingship in Anglo-Saxon England." Hopefully I can also be there to see Dr. Michael Drout of Wormtalk and Slugspeak present "The Invention of Cynewulf: Albert S. Cook, Philology, Romanticism and English Studies in America" though I think it might be a bit out of my league. I might try to stick my head in to see session five which just so happens to be chaired by Dr. Simon Keynes, a legend in the Anglo-Saxon world and former head of the Department of Anglo-Saxon, Norse and Celtic here in Cambridge. Perhaps he wouldn't mind giving an autograph or a scholarship between paper presentations.

There are a number of lectures and receptions also going on at the University of London, the British Museum, and Lambeth Palace for the conference goers which is all quite exciting. There is a field trip to Sutton Hoo that I can't wait to be a part of. The British Library is also currently running a program called Sacred which displays holy books from a variety of religions, including the Lindisfarne Gospels and that would certainly be neat to see while in town. Hopefully I'll have some fun and enlightening comments on my first medieval conference when all is through.

Conferences

How to Gain Renown as a Master Scholar Without Real Academic Accomplishment: Or, How I Learned to Quit Worrying and Love Medieval Conferences!

With the International Society of Anglo-Saxonists' 2007 conference approaching next week in London (despite the dreadful Thames flooding), fond stories of past ISAS gatherings and other medieval conferences are flitting around the flat. As this is the first conference I have ever attended--certainly tagging along in a somewhat limited capacity as barely a graduate student--I took some tips from others' memorable experiences in order to ensure a noteworthy first impression on academia:

(1) Tolkien-style robes and hobbit feet are a must.

(2) While setting up your power point presentation, leave on that lovely screensaver of the family, including that picture of your two-year-old grasping himself in the bathtub.

(2) Wear a scandalous red bikini around the main conference hotel pool; let the funding offers and phone numbers pour in.

(3) Giggle uncontrollably every time someone says "theses," or, better yet, "cockfosters."

(4) Dance wildly at the conference dance.

(5) Vomit wildly at the conference dance.

(6) Present your very first scholarly paper in a dirty college t-shirt, sweatpants, and an intense five o'clock shadow.

(7) Berate the graduate students, for they are oversized children who are meddling with powers they cannot possibly comprehend.

(8) Socialize with your fellow scholars as they drag your drunken self out the door of the reception, see (5).

(9) Unintentionally sneeze and cause lo mein noodles shoot out your nose just after making the acquaintance of a notable fellow academic at lunch.

(10) During a rather prestigious scholar's presentation, mistakenly give yourself a uncontrollable paper cut and attempt to stop it awkwardly using said presentation materials.

Follow these ten tried and true tips for making a name for yourself at conference time, because while they may not remember your paper, they'll certainly remember you.


On a serious note, it's interesting to find that much in academia depends on social networking and making connections at these conferences. Research ideas, friendships, and even entire papers can be formed over a reception. Obviously, as someone just entering graduate school in the fall, that aspect might not apply as thoroughly with me, though it's something vaguely daunting to think about for the future.

Hoard

Next term when I'm studying at York I really hope to find an enormous tenth century Viking treasure hoard whilst taking a walk through campus.

That would make this whole 'waiting for scholarships' thing a lot easier. Hats off to the discoverers!

Catherine

Before I left for Cambridge, I saw a small notice in my parish bulletin about a presentation on St. Catherine of Siena at St. Eulalia's in Winchester. Curious, I decided to go and also took along my mom who seemed—strangely—interested in a medieval talk. Once we entered St. Eulalia's, however, I realized that something was wrong. This wasn't the usual medieval crowd and somehow I was the youngest person in the church (other than a sleeping one year old) and, thus, I began to get concerned. As we nervously seated ourselves in the back right pew—deliberately to avoid detection if we had to exit rapidly—other onlookers took their seats and brochures. I glanced at the paper in my hand and realized my mistake: this was not a lecture at all, but a one-woman performance by, apparently, Bill Murray's sister. Then, suddenly, swooping down from the choir loft came a large nun crying "Buongiorno!" Sister Nancy Murray then spent the few hours conversing with the audience in an Italian accent and acting out random scenes from the life of St. Catherine. It wasn't that bad, actually, but it seemed to have been intended for a slightly younger audience; needless to say I didn't participate when asked to turn back time to the fourteenth century by clicking my tongue rapidly. After two hours, a slight headache, and the realization that the sister had only progressed as far as Catherine at age twelve, my mother and I quietly snuck out the door, feeling vaguely guilty, but not enough to stay for another stereotypical imitation of Catherine's loud, bossy Italian mother. That'll teach me to read announcements a bit more carefully in the future.

Disney

The Middle Ages, it seems, has been cinematically sneaking into the lives of children through such animated guises as “Robin Hood” and “Sleeping Beauty,” both of which I have now seen more than twenty times each in my duty as nanny. As many are probably aware, especially those caring for small children, there are certain characters in the Disney film vault who lay claim to some sort of royal title. Most popular today are the Disney princesses who have shown up everywhere from dolls to lunchboxes to elaborately planned birthday parties. Generally the princesses include Belle from “Beauty and the Beast,” Jasmine from “Aladdin,” Cinderella from “Cinderella,” Aurora from “Sleeping Beauty,” Ariel from “The Little Mermaid,” and Snow White from “Snow White.” But are these princesses, in fact, legitimate? What is the strength of their claims to the royal title and right to rule? Under careful scrutiny it appears that only a few of these Disney characters can actually bear the lawful name of princess and only one is uncontested.

Belle, Cinderella, and Snow White hold what appear to be the weakest claims to their surreptitiously given titles. All are relatively economically disadvantaged women who, through the aid—magical or otherwise—of another, fall in love with a real prince with an established claim. In their respective stories, however, the three women do not hold claims to rule in virtue of themselves. Each woman is solely dependent on the status of her husband, the prince, for her role as princess.* Yet, while the conclusions of these Disney tales suggest a future marriage, it is not at all sure whether or not they are lawfully married, so their status as royal wives is clearly debatable. These “princesses” could be no more than concubines in the eyes of the law. It is also a misnomer to label these women as “princesses” when –if we accept that they are, in fact, legitimately married in a ceremony approved by the reigning government—they are only married at the conclusion to the tale and thus, only enjoy their princess status at the end of the movie. Can we the viewers truly call these characters, then, princesses, when we have only known them as such for a few minutes before the closing credits? And, in the absence of a royal son and heir (which each woman lacks in their respective films) their ability to hold their positions against challenges from other noble claimants in the event of the death of their prince is nearly certain, considering their economic backgrounds, slim political experience, and lack of familial support.

Jasmine, Aurora and Ariel present different problems: all three are daughters of a king and so can legitimately hold the title of princess from the start of the films in virtue of their births (there is a point to be made that Ariel is not, in fact, human, and therefore cannot hold the name of princess, but that will be overlooked for the moment). Since Jasmine, Aurora and Ariel are all also the sole heirs in each of their tales, they will, presumably, be the successors to their fathers’ kingdoms upon their deaths; indeed, no other male heir or claimants are even discussed as possible heirs in the films. Their positions as Disney princesses are improved by the fact that each has found true love with a prince in a recognized marriage. Yet only in the tales of Aurora and Ariel is this marriage with a real prince. In Jasmine’s case, Aladdin is not—despite the magical attempts of his blue genii friend—a real prince. While the sultan’s change of heart at the conclusion to the film permits their marriage, the fact remains that Aladdin is not of royal stock. Thus, Jasmine’s claims to royal status are not strengthened by her prince whereas those of Ariel and Aurora, by marrying, respectively, Princes Eric and Phillip, are. Ariel has occasionally been elevated in her princess status by bearing the title of “princess of both sea and land” because of her mermaid identity. When she was transformed, however, Ariel received a human body and, thus, lost her sea title along with her tail. It is not a stretch to assume that neither her merman father nor his kingdom would want a human (who could only be ruling in absentia) for a ruler. So, while Ariel gains love and title from Prince Eric, she remains solely dependent on her husband for her princess status, for she has forsaken her father’s identity and royal claims not once but twice: first through her willing transformation by Ursula and secondly through the her later, permanent transformation by the king.

It is my opinion that Aurora contains the best possible claims as princess and inheritor of her father’s kingdom. She is a legitimate princess in virtue of her birth, she marries the legitimate prince of a neighboring kingdom, Prince Phillip, she has the support of her family and magical figures for her rule, and there is even brief mention of Aurora producing an heir, assuring that the kingdom remains intact. Some might object that Aurora’s sixteen year absence from the kingdom while hiding from Maleficent estranges her from her people, but it is clear from her reception and acclamation upon her birthday return to the castle (fireworks, outbursts of song, and parades) that she is clearly loved by all and would face no opposition in the succession. Ariel, however, abandons her claims for sovereignty of the ocean and, while becoming a princess of the land through her marriage, surely would face opposition and no doubt anti-mermaid activists in any of her attempts to rule as. Jasmine and Aladdin might have found true love and managed to have the senile sultan alter the law, but nevertheless her prince is no prince, and the people of Agrabah would most likely rebel under the rule of a woman who married a thief.

There are perhaps other Disney characters that lay claim to princess or other royal titles, such as Thumbelina, however, the aforementioned six are the most popular and therefore the most pertinent to examine. Likewise, there are many various sequels to the classic films that may perhaps have some bearing on these princesses’ claims to legitimacy, but I have made use of only the originals. In summary, the princess with the strongest claim is Princess Aurora of “Sleeping Beauty,” as she is royal by birth, by clear lawful marriage, and by the hinted production of a legitimate heir. Though we the viewers never get to see the future of Aurora’s kingdom in the film, based on rudimentary medieval standards of queenship and legitimacy, it most likely would have flourished under her rule; unless, of course, she found another spinning wheel.

* Note: As highlyeccentric mentioned (by the way, do check out her blog), Snow White herself is a princess by birth, but was cast out of her royal inheritance and, indeed, perhaps even her title by her wicked stepmother, the evil queen. Snow White's claims remain in league with the first group of princesses Belle and Cinderella, however, due to the absence of family, her poverty, and the fact that she never moves to take up her rightful claim to her own kingdom, choosing to live in the kingdom of her prince instead and leaving the dwarves behind. Also, interestingly enough, there is not an actual wedding in Snow White either, so if one wanted to be intensely critical, one could say Snow White did not, despite her birthright, press her claims and instead ran away to live unwed as a concubine. Her prince, though no doubt very charming, was not legally her husband and, thus, not having taken her own kingdom after her stepmother's death and not legally married to a legitimate prince, she rules nothing. There could be something to be said regarding the legitimacy of this "Prince Charming" as well, for what kind of royal family names their heir "Charming?"

Backs

With exactly one month left in Cambridge, I managed to escape downtown for some sightseeing the other day. I tried to blend in with the locals on my bike—remembering to keep to the left side of the road is harder than it seems—and rode by the Round Church, Great St. Mary’s and Market Square. I also got a chance to wander in and out of various colleges by walking confidently past the porters, assuming the air of an international student. I explored St. John’s, parts of Trinity, and Clare’s, walking through their gardens and across the Backs’ bridges, managing to read a bit of the last Harry Potter book on the edge of the Cam.

To end the day I went to evensong at King’s College Chapel to hear the famous choir. It turned out that the 3.30 evensong was the last until September, with several singers graduating. I managed to grab a seat in the high-backed choir stall and actually used a very ancient looking book of psalms nearly three feet tall. The boys’ singing, fan vaulting and stained glass were all quite beautiful and seemed to make this whole nanny thing worth it. Next day off I’m considering a day trip to Norwich.