I dwell in the realm of disappointment.

I have to say I am mildly disappointed with the ending of "The Tempest." There was no big fight scene or dramatic twist. It wrapped up with a nice bow making it boring and predictable. What the heck Shakespeare? I thought a death might occur or some plot twist would say this was all a dream of Prospero’s. Nope. My grief over this matter will last sometime, but alas, I must find the strength to continue…

 What threw me off the most is how easily Prospero gains back his dukedom. Antonio did not even attempt to fight Prospero for the dukedom. He just let the king give Prospero his position back after ‘saving’ is son. I find this to be too easy and submissive. Shouldn’t there have been a fight between Antonio and Prospero? If I were Antonio, I wouldn’t just let my older brother claim what I fought to steal from him the first place. I would be furious and defend my position as Duke even if it’s not rightfully mine.

Besides the less than dramatic ending, I am surprised by Prospero saying he would stop using magic after regaining his dukedom. Why would he? I am not quite sure I understand. It is clear in Act 5 Scene 1 when he says, “I’ll break my staff, / Bury it certain fathoms in the earth, / And deeper than dud ever plummet sound/ I’ll drown my book” (ll. 63-65). Is Prospero done with magic simply because he does not need it anymore? Or is there another reason he would willingly give up the magic?

I wonder if Prospero realizes the reason he got into this mess in the first place is because of his obsession with magic. It became the ruling force over his life when he was the duke. Instead of watching over his people, Prospero buried himself in books, leaving his position vulnerable to being usurped by his brother. After living on this desolate island for years, I’d hope Prospero acknowledges how and why he came to live there. It was not simply because his brother was power hungry, but the fact Prospero neglected his duties as the duke.

When Prospero receives his position back, I suppose there is no longer a need for him to use magic. He has gotten what he wanted and will return to Milan with his daughter. Not only has Prospero improved his position by having his daughter marry the king’s son, but he returns to the place he loves with a better insight into how his behavior should change. I hope that Prospero will not return to his old ways of hiding himself away. As we all know, with great power comes great responsibility. 

Merlin's character: to be or not to be?

I have never been a Merlin fan. While my preconceived notions of him before this class where the obvious old wizard who helped King Arthur, I still didn’t like him. He wasn’t exciting to me. His adventures weren’t spectacular. I see him as some prophet who gained magic over the years who uses it for his own advantage and that of his close friends. I know, I’m being a negative Nellie about Merlin when everyone else probably likes him.

 Even though I may not like Merlin as a person, I did enjoy reading the Prose Merlin. Being rooted in creative writing fashion, it was easier and entertaining to read. I laugh when I imagine Merlin as a year old baby talking to his mother and her dropping him out of sheer bewilderment. That would seriously freak me out too if my child suddenly started spouting out wisdom like Plato. Demon child anyone?

However, out of all the tales associated with Merlin, the one that bothers me the most is Uther Pendragon’s perusal of Ygerne. It is a classic case of someone wanting something they can’t have. I feel the feminist rising in me with this because they treat Ygerne as if she were property to be owned. I realize it was the norm for men to consider women as possessions back then, but I still rage against it. I’m proud of Ygerne for standing up for herself and evading the kings advances. The man just would not give up even when he knew she loved her husband dearly and would never betray him in such a manner.

When Urfin goes to speak to Ygerne about becoming the king’s lover, I let out a cry of indignation at what he says to her. Urfin says, “My lady, it would be an honor to die for my lord. But what lady as ever before refused to accept the king as her lover! And he does love you more than anyone else. Surely, you are fooling?” (Rosenberg 332). Excuse me? Well then, by all means, die for your lustful greedy king who can’t keep it in his pants. I’d rather keep my loving husband than betray him for one night with the king. I am glad Ygerne does not find this to be a compliment, but stands by her virtue and holds fast.

Yet, sadly, Ygerne does fall to the king’s advances by way of Merlin’s trickery. I cannot decide if Merlin did this for his own gains or for the gains of his country. Are they the same? Why would he allow such adultery? I would say the devil side of him tipped the scale against God in this instance. However, without the conception of Arthur, God may not have blessed the kingdom when Arthur comes to power.  Once again, the balance between good and evil rears its head. 

                                             (And suddenly Gandalf had a twin brother....) 

My Sisters, Rise Against These Injustices!

While most of the readings for Monday reiterate the public’s need to watch for acts of witchcraft, I was very intrigued by Johann Geiler von Kaysersberg’s article. Besides the fact he has a pretty awesome name, I actually found myself condemning him less than Desiderius, Gianfranceso and Hadrian VI. I still think they’re all delusional, but Kaysersberg has some relevant points about witchcraft that no other has brought up before.

Instead of directly blaming the witches for their actions, Kaysersberg blames the Devil. It is the Devil himself who casts plagues upon the people. The witches are nothing more than a façade for the Devil’s work. I don’t remember any other writer who made this type of distinction. It is a rather unusual argument, as most people directly believed witches held the power to change weather, kill/hex people and do other nefarious activities.

Kaysersberg states that the witch, when she desires something to be done, gives a sign to the Devil. On page 238, Kaysersberg says, “the devil sees the sign and hears the word, he knows what they indicate; then he performs the act, and it is the devil who does this and not [the witches].” While the witches may have evil intentions, they do not possess the ability to carry out their actions. Rather, it is only the Devil who may grant their wish and do their bidding. I admit to being one of those people who automatically thought witches hold the power. Reading Kaysersberg twist on the matter makes me rethink how I’ve viewed witches.

Are they capable of doing such diabolical things or is an evil spirit, the Devil, taking advantage of their ill will to do bad? Can these women truly be called witches following his belief? Kaysersberg also gives us three reasons why women are more prone to witchcraft. He cites William of Paris for the reasons and they are similar to the reasons mentioned by the Malleus. He cites their “instability of spirit,” “understood better by demons,” and “their talkativeness” as reasons women are ‘weaker’ (K/P 238).

Personally, I find the aspect of talkativeness to be hilarious. I feel like the men put that down because they were annoyed by their wives nagging them or constantly gossiping with friends. Men did not understand women (and still don’t), therefore I think it was easier for them to categorize witches. If a woman did not fit the perfect, obedient, submissive role, she could be cast into this negative light.

With this in mind, I’ve wondered, if witches truly existed—if these men proclaimed so many to work for the Devil, wouldn’t you think there would be a mass uprising of witches against such massacre? I’ve no doubt a group of powerful witches would be able to wipe out the trials and murderers of their sisters. Do you think the religious men of the time even considered this fact when deciding if witches existed? Probably not, the ignorant bastards. 

When the stuffing runs out, pass the child casserole please!

When I began reading chapters 4 and 5 for Monday (and my presentation), I kept wondering, what is with the obsession of witches killing babies? I mean, seriously. Why? Apparently, in order to be qualified as a witch you need to kill children and consume their flesh. Satan’s orders! I’m sure that is what every witch out there loves to eat, a nice boiled kid with some garlic and onions, a side of baked potato and possibly some kale to keep things healthy. Everyone loves kale. It’s a nutritious and leafy food. Yum yum in the tum tum. Now I’ve gone off tangent…

Anyways, in several of the excerpts including Bernardino of Siena, Johannes Nider, Claude Tholosan, and Nicholas Jacquier, the action of infanticide are described. While we will discuss the issue of infanticide during my group’s presentation on Monday, I figure I’d touch upon some of it now. I find it fascinating how the writers carry the idea that witches set out to kill children in order to create balms/salves to kill people. Wouldn’t it be just as easy for them to slip some nightshade berries into their pie?

The psyche behind blaming witches for the deaths may be resulting from the high child mortality rates. People wanted to blame ‘witches’ for killing their child instead of blaming natural causes or themselves. They latched onto the witch hysteria and automatically used them to disguise their anger towards God for taking their child. It probably felt like a sin for people to even consider blaming God for their misfortunes. After all, he was the being they feared, admired and worshiped to help guide them through the tough times.

One of my favorite lines from Johannes Nider is, “We then remove them secretly from their graves and cook them in a cauldron until their flesh, cooked and separated from the bones, is made into a powerful liquid” (157). The detail paid into how the witches prepare the children is slightly disturbing. While Johannes is recounting what a captured and accused witch told him, it remains an interesting segment of thought. Even the accused corroborated with this idea of witches devouring children.

 Another rather humorous action the followers of Satan needed to do was kiss the ass of the devil (160) or drink his urine (164). These actions would show their obedience to Satan and their utter disrespect and hatred of the Christian religion. I have to admit I laughed when I read this because of the absurdity behind it. Yet, people during the time probably felt this was a very real action committed by the devil’s followers. I mean, if they ate children and participated in orgies, they must also willingly kiss the ass of the devil. 

The Green Giant Who Forgot to Eat His Vegetables

When I first started to read the excerpt of Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, I kept thinking of the Green Giant from the food isle. Green beans and corn anyone? Yet, I knew this was not the case and paid attention to how he is described. Knowing that everything about him is green, including his horse, I had a brief flash of one of the four horsemen of the apocalypse. Death rode a horse, which was a pale-green color. The more I thought about it, I realized they are not connected. This knight is an emerald green with bits of gold or white ermine in his clothing.

After some research, I discovered several meanings behind the color green. Green symbolizes growth, rebirth, and renewal and is associated with harmony. It is a positive color, being generous, nurturing, and evoking thoughts of spring (Color Psychology). In religious circumstances, it is a symbol of resurrection or regeneration. On a different, note it is the color of the heart chakra, which connects the physical and spiritual worlds (sensational color).

Besides wearing green, the knight also sports a cloak with “all-white ermine” (line 155). The use of ermine suggests this knight may be of royal standing. Traditionally, ermine is a royal fur used to line crowns and robes of royal individuals (Wikipedia). It stands for justice and moral purity. In addition to this regal fur, the knight is shoe-less and his clothes are “embroidered as it was with butterflies and birds” (line 166). The idea of this knight as some magical fairy or forest dwelling creature comes to mind.

Yet, how does the symbolism of the color green, ermine and decorated clothing have any part in the knight’s challenge to Arthur’s court? I believe they give insight into the reason why the knight challenges the men. If this knight is to represent harmony, generousness and justice, then I  he challenges this court where they proudly brag of their accomplishments and bravery (lines 311-314). He has come to test their humanity, as overtime, their numerous victories have made them confident, proud, if not a bit arrogant. Then again, his coloring may only serve as a distraction to entice the men to challenge and defeat this unknown creature.  

In his attempts to restore balance to this group of men, the knight instigates their pride to arouse a challenger. I find it interesting how it is the weaker of the knights who answers this stranger’s challenge. Why does Gawain step up so that Arthur does not have to fight? If anything, I would say it is to prove that even the weakest among Arthur’s knights has a strong character. Gawain simply needed an opportunity to bring forth the strength he holds. Instead of physical strength, he carries fortitude and strength of mind where others fall short. The Green Knight’s arrival puts him in a position to test and prove his worth.