Showing posts with label Team Gandalf. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Team Gandalf. Show all posts

Monday, November 9, 2015

I Melt With You

I found Shakespeare's The Tempest quite enjoyable on the whole, though I breathed a sigh of relief as I concluded its final acts, because my brain can only handle so much. 
I about died laughing when in act 4.1, line 15 on, Prospero basically warns Ferdinand in typical, protective, fatherly fashion to WAIT TIL MARRIAGE OR ELSE, in his own magical, somewhat threatening, words. 
I found the appearance of the spirits, Iris, Ceres, Juno, etc. lovely, especially as a person with an affinity for the myths, gods, and goddesses of the classical era. Classical references like this were common in the Renaissance, and in this case was used by Shakespeare to reinforce the beauty of the marriage-celebration scene. It was nice and sparkly, and the inclusion of those classical references only heightened the loveliness it evoked. 
Juno and Iris appear in the above picture. ~fancy~
In act 4, scene 1, lines 163-175, Prospero gives a wonderful speech:
You do look, my son, in a moved sort,
As if you were dismayed. Be cheerful, sir.
Our revels now are ended. These our actors,
As I foretold you, were all spirits and
Are melted into air, into thin air.
And like the baseless fabric of this vision,
The cloud-capped towers, the gorgeous palaces,
The solemn temples, the great globe itself—
Yea, all which it inherit—shall dissolve,
And like this insubstantial pageant faded,
Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff
As dreams are made on, and our little life
Is rounded with a sleep. 



As I read this passage, I am overcome with thoughts of actors and the world of theater. Since this play was apparently Shakespeare's last, I wonder if this speech is not just Prospero's voice, but Will's too, acknowledging the conclusion of a play as Prospero acknowledges the end of his magical charms. At the beginning of the speech, when Prospero speaks to Ferdinand, telling him to cheer up after the abrupt end to the masque, I felt that I could resonate with Ferdinand's feelings; for instance, sometimes when I am deep in thought, perhaps listening to music, playing a videogame, or deep in a book, and am suddenly yanked out of my glorious fantasy world, I feel some disillusionment and dismay. I feel similarly when I see a play or movie, and walk back out into the harsh glare of the real world. The fantasies that are evoked within that experience are then "melted into thin air... and like this insubstantial pageant faded, leave not a rack behind." When the play ends, the actors pack up their props and go home. The sets are deconstructed and put away. The audience returns to the tedium of daily life. Prospero's spirits "dissolved" just as every experience in visual/sensory media does after we SAVE and QUIT, or turn OFF. This speech, as I read it, also caused me to have an existential crisis - I sat in front of my book wide-eyed, frozen at the thought that we all eventually "melt into thin air," "dissolve," and leave nothing behind.

Same.
Crises aside, I thoroughly enjoyed the play. I really appreciate how much I was actually able to understand it, allowing it to make me laugh, or cower in fear as I contemplated my eventual "dissolving."
How cool is this though?

Monday, October 26, 2015

Merlin was a cool guy except for when he wasn't

My mental image of Merlin has always been mixed in with how I think of wizards like Gandalf and Dumbledore. I've never really internalized who or what Merlin was, so when I approached this reading I was interested to see what there was to learn. It was the Prose Merlin that I enjoyed more, so that's what I'll write about for this blog post.

First off, I was put off a bit by Merlin's conception. I had absolutely no idea of his origins; I always kind of assumed he was just a normal person who had discovered how to use magic and see the future and all that cool stuff. But here I was introduced to the Enemy, some devils conspiring amongst themselves, to use a woman to conceive a child with their powers. I found it interesting that the power to see the past was given by the Enemy while the power to see the future was given by the Lord. Why is that? Is it because trying to change the past is wrong while thinking about the future is right? I'm not sure of why these powers are given the connotations they are.

When Merlin spoke suddenly using full sentences, I got an almost horror movie kind of feeling from it. Like a haunted baby doll came to life and was suddenly threatening to kill people. He was born as some hairy creature that repulsed people from the start, and then he starts talking about knowing the past and the future. Pretty unsettling stuff, if you ask me. And then Merlin insults the mother of a judge who has a hand in deciding the fate of his own mother. He was one pushy child for sure.

Jumping forward to something that was a little bit more familiar for me, there is the king and the Round Table. The mental image of fifty men who had never met gathering and partying for a week before deciding that they're all brothers and want to stay forever made me happy. There's no devils or demons to talk about here, just good old friendship. These guys got together and had such a good time that they said they wanted to move their families there so that they would never have to leave. And then, after creating this environment, Merlin says he doesn't want to take the credit for himself, so he leaves. All that work and he's pleased to just leave and pursue something else? What a guy.

And then as I'm continuing on thinking, "Yeah good stuff this is great I like these things" I get hit in the face with some grimy love story featuring the king and a married woman. At first it seemed rather innocent, with the king falling head over heels for this beautiful woman (ignoring the fact she was already married I guess). He even realized that he couldn't openly pursue her because she was indeed married, so he tried to woo her on the low. In typical fashion, he responded to rejection by throwing more parties and trying to ignore the pain instead of trying to move on with his life. Now, I'm not popular with the ladies by any stretch, but even I know that harassing them with gifts in an attempt to get with them isn't going to work.

So Ygerne and her husband flee from the king's creepy advances and so on and so forth and I felt like I was reading some kind of wacky romcom or something. As such I wasn't at all surprised when Merlin was brought back and disguised the king as the woman's husband so that he could do husband and wife things with her. I guess Merlin is still kind of a bro in that way because he DID help the king out but the whole situation was dripping with scumminess. Not cool Merlin. Not cool Uther.

(I'm sorry that this post was late, it honestly slipped my mind that I was supposed to post because I skimmed the schedule and didn't see "Water" for today. It didn't register that I was supposed to post. My bad)


Wednesday, October 14, 2015

Insert title here

Before I say anything I'd like to make something clear: I have very little experience with religion and religious things. When I was young, my parents and grandparents would bring me to church only on Christmas Eve. I never went every Sunday, I never read a religious text, I was never told to pray every night, or anything like that. I have a hard time thinking of anyone in my extended family who is religious enough for me to be able to tell just from their actions. So basically, when it comes to religion I am really uneducated. I'm even ashamed to admit that growing up, churches and religious things scared me and made me uncomfortable because I couldn't understand why people felt so strongly about these things. Even as a teenager, people simply talking about religion made me feel out of place. I never lashed out at anybody or said anything about it, I only kept it to myself, but I still felt bad that I couldn't fathom why they were so passionate. I guess I'm writing about this now because I don't want to accidentally offend anyone with my ignorance. And now that I'm older and (by my own opinion) more mature, I think I can approach the subject without feeling uneasy. Enough about boring old me though; onto the readings.
Julian of Norwich, just like Hildegard previously, shocked me in how powerful her faith was. As I read about what an anchorite is I tried to picture myself doing something like that. Surely, I told myself, I could shut myself away from the world, because I've done that before for a couple of months at a time. But to this extent? Probably not. I had video games and TV and books to keep myself occupied during those times and if I had been left to my thoughts and my lack of faith the experience would have been unbearable. If I had all of my means of entertainment taken away and was told, "Spend your time praying and listening to the services" I would be completely lost. I came to the conclusion that these people had to be either really strong or really devoted to what they believed in. I suspect it was a combination of both. Voluntarily becoming dead to the world and spending your life in a cell is something most people could not do, regardless of how much of a connection they felt with God.
The events that were occurring during Julian's life were some of the most horrific to have ever occurred in history. I would not be surprised to read that in times of hardship a lot of people throw their faith aside, saying that God should never have given them such torment. I WAS surprised to read about all of this horrible stuff followed simply by a statement that Julian "remained resilient." I think this shows a strong conviction that goes beyond religion and can just be considered awesome. She was, all else aside, a strong, determined, and absolutely dedicated woman. It is probably hard to find many more people in history that could have done this. Well, most of you could probably name a bunch of people that did stuff like this, but I have no idea myself. So from what I've read so far, I can't help but to be impressed by this woman (and Hildegard of course).
My reactions stayed pretty much the same throughout: I was simply impressed. I'm not very passionate about anything in particular, so to read about someone who was filled with so much passion, I was intrigued and I found myself wishing I could be more like that. I hope my ignorance didn't shine through too much. That's why I tried to keep this post on the shorter side, because I feel like I've already shared my feelings on the readings and I don't want to try over-analyzing them only to look silly. Stuff like this I need to read more than once for it to set in, so I'll probably be rereading these PDFs a few times this week. Though I don't expect myself to come up with anything profound or more interesting than anything that might be already posted on the blog, since my experience with this subject is so insignificant.

Sunday, October 4, 2015

Witchy Shenanigans

I found chapter 7 of Kors/Peters to take a somewhat more refreshing turn compared to the repetitive, graphic rhetoric of previous chapters (butts and baby-eating) that we've been assigned.  
I really liked Desiderius Erasmus' story on the sorcerer from Orléans, especially in his concluding paragraphs in which he blames the horror of witchcraft directly on the weaknesses of humanity - in this case, greed. He doesn't even refer to the devil at this point, nope. He isn't making excuses for how susceptible humans are to temptation. Additionally, his frankness is extremely refreshing and actually made me chuckle; this is just a man who is freaking tired of witchy shenanigans. He states, "Monstrosities of this sort are of such frequent occurrence everywhere in the Digest that now that I am accustomed to them they do not even amuse me any longer, much less annoy me" (236). Erasmus is just sick of everyone's shit and boy can I appreciate that.


Same.
I also enjoyed Johann Geiler von Kaysersberg's richly detailed descriptions on witches' perceived travel movements, like how witches might think that they are flying through space but are just imagining it because of our crafty pal Satan. Kaysersberg's assertions therefore take the power away from witches (and perhaps subsequently some of the blame) and placing it in the hands of the devil. I was quite content reading until I reached the misogynistic part on why women are more likely to become witches and I had stress-induced flashbacks to the Malleus. I was brought back to reality when I read his concluding sentence: "But those [sorcerers] who can be cured and made healthy ought not to be put to death, but to a lesser punishment" (239), which was a lovely reminder not to get sucked into believing in the stereotype of the ignorant, dangerously uncompromising witch-hunting mob.

So not this. Hopefully. Or at least less of this.
Gianfrancesco Pico della Mirandola's Strix was fun and interesting because of its format as dialogue. Everyone appreciates a good basic play, right? Sure the story was somewhat contrived, especially with the staunch skeptic Apistius completely renouncing his skepticism on believing in witchcraft after interacting with the witch, but Pico's point was clear. Apistius, seeing the evidence, accepts that witchcraft exists. I appreciated  the implications here: that an accusation must be founded and have evidence. It seems to have connections to the movement of Christian Humanism during the Renaissance; that beliefs must be founded on reason and human experience. Neat.
Finally, while reading Pope Hadrian's On Diabolical Witchcraft, I had but one thought: Holy long sentences, Batman! Seriously. What is it with Popes and long sentences?

A Wicked Revelation

I found it interesting that according to Imperial law, "those who can be cured and made healthy ought not to be put to death but to a lesser punishment" (p. 239). This made me wonder how often one got away with 'witchcraft'. As a class we've decided that the wealthiest members of society were more likely to get away with it. However, as it seems, most of what we have read about follows the lines of crime and punishment (go away Roskonokov, I'm not talking about you). Seriously though, why do we read about the people who were condemned by the crime of being a witch as opposed to the lucky (well as lucky as one could be after being accused of witchcraft) ones? Is it because humans don't have a long attention span? Who are we kidding, if someone offers you two stories which would you choose and why? The first story is about the triumph of good over evil. The second story is about someone who may or may not have done something bad but it doesn't matter whether they did it or not because regardless the charges were dropped because the character paid off the judge... The end. Pick a story any story (just to be clear, by any story I mean of the two listed above... Not ANY story). Yes, there are exceptions, we do read about accused getting off scot free after being found innocent do occur. I'm just wondering why there aren't more stories on it.

Gianfrancesco Pico Della Mirandola's Strix, is a good example of just how convinced some were about witchcraft and just how desperate they were to convince everyone else of its existence. It is basically the story of a learned man who doesn't believe in witchcraft but it then convinced because of something horrible that a witch has done and how could someone who was a witch commit such an evil act? Therefore, it is the duty of the inquisitor to convict everyone suspected of being a witch because as discussed in the pervious chapter it is worse to let one witch escape punishment than to falsely punish an innocent.

Monday, September 28, 2015

Uhhhhhhhhhh...

"Girls are gross and they have cooties and they scare me."

No, that's not a direct quote from the reading, as hard as it may be to tell. This reading was something alright. I'm not quite sure what kind of something it was though. My copy of the book is used and I've found occasional notes left by a previous owner, but this chapter was absolutely full of highlights. I could almost picture the look on their face. One sentence that I can tell made them extra excited was both highlighted and covered in asterisks. "Therefore let us now chiefly consider women, and first, why this kind of perfidy is found more in so fragile a sex than in men." (181).

Another point of interest: on page 185, where Socrates is brought up, the owner underlined a few lines and wrote "Socrates" in big letters and drew an arrow to part of the text, almost as if they were in disbelief about what they were reading. I was quite surprised myself. "And when the philosophy Socrates was asked if one should marry a wife, he answered: If you do not, you are lonely, your family dies out, and a stranger inherits; if you do, you suffer perpetual anxiety, querulous complaints, reproaches concerning the marriage portion, the heavy displeasure of your relations, the garrulousness of a mother-in-law, cuckoldom, and no certain arrival of an heir." (185). This was definitely not something I would expect of someone who spent so much time thinking.

A lot of this reading was, honestly, quite repetitive. There are only so many ways to say, "Women are weak-minded, therefore they fill victim to temptation more than men." and Kramer and Sprenger certainly said it in all those ways more than once. With such headings as, "Why Superstition is chiefly found in Women" they are sure to make their feelings known. "When a woman thinks alone, she thinks evil." (183). "All witchcraft comes from carnal lust, which is in women insatiable." (188). I probably don't need to list any more quotes to get the point across: these two 'gentlemen' were quite set in their ways against women.

Looking back from a modern perspective, where a lot of things have changed, it's not difficult to think poorly of these writers. I don't think you could find many people that would agree with what is written here, at the very least. When this stuff was written, of course, people were a lot different. Stereotypes were likely even more widespread, because not everyone could write, and those that could were looked up to. And with this writing talking about women being weak, vulnerable to demons, unable to control their lust, and innately evil creatures, among other things, I wouldn't be surprised to find the common person starting to believe in these things upon reading them. Certainly, if I were to read this with an empty mind, perhaps as an alien that had just discovered Earth and knew nothing of the people on it, I would read these many pages and form an opinion that women are indeed everything these men say they are.

Of course, I'm not an alien and so I don't think this way at all, but I guess it's understandable (and unfortunate) that people back then might have been led to think this way. When the people who know how to write and utilize their knowledge do it to pass on their own beliefs, well, it's hard to stop others from latching on to those beliefs as well. And when people are as impressionable as they were back then, with magic being so feared and talked about, it helps to have a scapegoat to pin blame on or a way to rationalize what's going on. Of course, that still doesn't make it okay.

Monday, September 21, 2015

Sorcery: The Uncanny


Chapters 4 and 5 in Kors/Peters have certainly taken a sharp turn from the jovial, upbeat magic portrayed in Sir Gawain and the Green Knight to graphic, brutal descriptions of terrifying sorcery. A headless, living green man seemed like child's play compared to stories of cannibalism and boiling dead infants for sustenance. I noted extreme specificity in these two chapters in the discussions and denunciations of magical rituals by religious authorities. Additionally, in these chapters, sorcery became completely aligned with heresy.

In these chapters, magic became even more so the enemy of Christianity: sorcerers were the heretical agents of Satan, and magic was their tool for evil - quite the departure from its benign household use as compiled in the Wolfsthurn handbook many reading assignments ago.

Early on in chapter 4, while reading Pope Alexander IV's "Sorcery and the Inquisitors,” I was pleasantly surprised when he advised “inquisitors of heretical depravity” not to investigate magical activities unless there was proof of heretical activity. I perhaps shouldn’t be surprised that he advised people to simply do their job, but with the occasional stereotypical thought of witch-hunting mobs clouding my judgment as I read, I appreciated the Pope’s progressive attitude. On the other hand, his letter effectually opens up sorcery to inquisition, and I am sure there were cases of inquisitors bending this decree for their own purposes. I, perhaps naively, would like to think that this letter was the Pope’s way of preventing these inquisitors from disturbing benign magicians.  

Hopefully Pope Alexander's letter prevented things like this.
Immediately following Pope Alexander's letter, though, are letters from William, Cardinal of Santa Sabina and Pope John XXII on Sorcery and the Inquisitors. These completely oppose Pope Alexander's viewpoints. The Cardinal, for instance, calls sorcerers "infectors of God's flock" (119) and Pope John states that "they ally themselves with death and make a pact with hell. By their means a post pestilential disease... grievously infects infests the flock of Christ throughout the world" (120). Granted, Pope John is speaking from a place of fear, as sorcerers have made an attempt on his life, which is completely understandable. As Pope, these letters had extreme influence and likely reaffirmed the Christian, God-fearing public's anxieties about the malevolent power and potential of magic. 

Perhaps the most memorable reading was Bernardino of Siena's sermon against women sorcerers. He must have been an extremely effective preacher through his fear-mongering, emotionally appealing language. He speaks directly to his audience in an accusatory tone, telling them YOU have committed this sin, YOU have caused this suffering, YOU will then suffer in eternal torment. What a way to terrify his congregation into denouncing any kind of magic for fear of their eternal destiny. Part of me, now, doesn't blame the paranoia that ensued in Salem in the late 1600s. 

Chapter 5 just built on the terrifying heresy established in the the previous chapter, with anecdotes of infanticide and cannibalism. My notes literally read "~evil witchy anecdotes~" and "~bad things~" because some of the stories were so disturbingly graphic.  My favorite one was The Errores Gazariorum because of its description of the process of a person's seduction to the dark side.

I had to do it.
It is specific, backwards, perverse, etc. It is the opposite of normalcy for a typical Christian. It is the inverse, the uncanny - and it makes it all the more terrifying. Again, the fears of average folk at this time was completely understandable. They were molded by their religious leaders and knew little else. How sad. :(




Friday, September 18, 2015

"To the Fire! To the Fire! To the Fire!" The world's First S'more and Why We Really Need to Duck Tape Bernardino of Siena's Mouth Shut

Sorry, for the long title...

 I'd like to apologize to my blog group who has no choice but to read this.  I know it's a long post. I'll make it entertaining I promise!

*Note: The following comment contains language not suitable for children*

A pope, a theologian, a preacher, a lawyer, and a judge all  into a pub... I mean church... and accuse a bunch of people of witchcraft flash forward to 1692, when America's first total bitch, Ann Putnam (I do not claim credibility for this comment #ilovethe1880s) accusations led to the death of twenty people in Salem, MA. Ann Putnam, you would have made a great addition to Mean Girls.

Anyway... On to the important stuff...

As a history major and human being when I hear the word theologian I brace myself for the worst. However, most of what was covered in Chapter 4 of Witchcraft in Europe from 400-1700 wasn't as dry as I was afraid it would be. I think Kors and Peters did a fantastic job with this chapter. The introduction quickly caught my interest at the first mention of Dante Alighieri who is my favorite author/epic poet. The mention of Canto 20 of his inferno caused me to stretch my legs and grab my copy of the Divine Comedy from my bookshelf to refresh my memory on Dante's take on sorcery. For those that have not read Dante's Inferno here is a link to Canto 20: http://www.anselm.edu/homepage/dbanach/dante/chap20.html After rereading Inferno 20, I felt that I had a better grasp on this chapter. As Kors and Peters point out Dante's condemnation of sorcery and divination may "reflect general understanding at the turn of the fourteenth century" (Kors and Peters 113). So now that I had been sucked into the chapter, I again braced myself for the primary sources. Let me get something straight, I love love love primary sources. To be honest the only religious text that I have ever read and liked was Jonathan Edwards Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God. Theologians just not my thing, sorry.

When Pope Gregory IX started talking about kissing frogs I was hoping that maybe this was some sort of messed up metaphor... maybe the frog represents the devil or something? As I read on I realized that I was mistaken. It wasn't a metaphor... or a simile. So after rereading the first couple sentences I then thought of fairy tales and my little knowledge of Grimm's fairy tales. Even though I haven't read them yet (so excited to though!!!) I know that unlike Disney movies, they don't end well. If you are sensitive to blasphemous language, I suggest you stop reading now and pick up after the letter. Seriously, I recommend you skip this next part. Annoyed and only slightly relevant rants make blogging more fun. I would like to take a moment and write an open letter to Disney:
Dearest Disney,
Why must you lie to children?  First off, this whole happily ever after thing is unrealistic. Also, while I loved those movies and still do, I know that people only randomly burst in to song in High School Musical (and 2 and 3), not in real life... which is kind of a bummer... but not the point! Sometimes things don't work out in life but in your movies everything always works out, what sorcery are you using? I blame you for my Shakespeare obsession. Also, you based Beauty and the beast off of a true story... you left out some very important parts of the story... but for the sake of time I will pick that up in another post. Disney... there is so much more that I wish to say to you.. but alas, time is short and it's almost 12 (noon), speaking of, why did the magic cast on Cinderella end at 12 midnight as opposed to 12 noon? Sorry, not the point. Disney this discussion is not over.
I will end this very humble and polite expression of my thoughts with this. WTF? (I apologize, that was unfeminine of me) but seriously, wtf... why? (again, my bad, I apologize). Regardless of my anger with you, I will continue to watch your movies as they are the essence of my childhood and life is stressful. Also, even though you "borrowed" (lets face it Disney had every intention of giving the ideas back...) many of the plots for your movies, they are entertaining. Rest assured this discussion is not over!
A Dear, (Yet Slightly Angered) Friend
The relevant part of this post continues here: I apologize for my rant... So yes, Pope Gregory is discussing kissing frogs and how blasphemous that is. But once I got past the similarities and very different outcomes of kissing frogs, I found that Pope Gregory was trying to invoke the wrath of God into all.

The theology faculty at the University of Paris brings up a list of 28... yes... 28, ways in which you can achieve your life's dream of becoming an "nefarious, pestiferous, and monstrous abomination." What I got out of this: rumors are running rampant around campus and some people belief that God wants them to practice arts and sorceries to "honor... and please him."  In a way makes as much sense as Martin Luther nailing his 95 point blog post (Renaissance Style- Sorry, Dr. MB) to the church door.

Bernardino of Siena... (I'll try and keep this short and censored but Bernardo got to me a little bit... though I was thoroughly entertained). First off,  Bernardino (cool name by the way), I'm going to quote you on this (yes, this has become another open letter... sorry).

Bernardino,
On page 135, you stated that following, "after I had preached, a multitude of witches and enchanters were accused." Was this reaction intended? It must have been foreseen (oh wait, don't answer that... actually please do. [If this was a trial and you admitted to that your punishment would be... penance for two years or you could call it heresy and risk execution, just saying...] I feel like you knew how these people would react to your speech. Lets do the math: People naturally do not all get a long + you explain to them that witches and enchanters exist = People think back to all the things that have happened to them or people they know + People begin thinking that perhaps my really annoying neighbor is responsible + the knowledge that hey, I can not only destroy this person's reputation but also ensure that I never have to deal with them again = A multitude of people getting accused of witchcraft after your speech. Makes sense to me. Not saying your responsible but actually, yes, I kind of do blame you. If duck tape had been invented yet then someone should have introduced you to it. Also. "Woe is me!"... seriously? You're upset because you started a witch hunt. Also, you just had to mention that " if any man or woman shall go be accused of such things and if any person shall go to their aid, the curse of God will light upon his house and he will suffer for it" (137). So, I'm guessing the whole State Farm Good Neighbor Policy is out then? I know you have no idea what I'm talking about since it doesn't exist yet, just go with me here.
Sincerely,
A Reader of your works
And now, dear, brave reader of this post...

Image result for funny cat pictures
 
I feel this is the only explanation I need for the strangeness of my post.  


Monday, September 14, 2015

Bread and Water For All

The first thing that comes to my mind as I read about the various things people were punished for is that these people were crazy. Burchard of Worms lists some crimes and their resulting punishments, and some of those punishments seem rather harsh. Spending a month consuming only bread and water would be quite bothersome; it isn't nutritious. For doing things that most people in the modern day would consider strange at worst, you would be condemned to some long lasting punishment.

That aside, I was most interested in the story of The Life of St. Justina. There is a lot of emphasis put on her virginity, and Cyprian's desire to rid her of it. I enjoyed the differences between the two: Justina was pure and devoted to her faith, and Cyprian had been left for the demons at a young age and practiced magic ever since. His desperation to make her his resulted in him consorting with all sorts of demons. Justina was too devoted for the demons to do a thing; I was interested in how perceptive she was. She was always able to figure out that she was targeted by a demon, and was subsequently able to chase it away through prayer. Even the prince of demons was unable to do Cyprian's bidding.

My favorite part though, was that they Cyprian eventually saw the error of his ways, fearing the demons, and became a man of prayer himself. He saw the powers of Christ protecting Justina and realized that there was no way to fight against them. He went from feverishly pursuing the virginity of a pure woman to making her the abbess of a monastery of virgins. And in the end they die together and are left to rot together.

I enjoyed this portion of the reading the most because it felt the most real to me. Some other pieces focused on punishments for certain deeds that seemed far too abstract to me. Thinking in some way, even if it resulted in no actions, was still punishable by the church. That baffles me. The story of Cyprian and Justina drew me in more, almost like I was reading a book in my own leisure time. The lengths he went to take her purity and the failures he was faced with made him change his ways, yet in the end he still received a painful penalty: death. But hey, at least he was beheaded alongside Justina. That's at least a little bit romantic, right?

Sunday, August 30, 2015

Mind Your Head

While reading  Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, I was at first struck by the rhythmic beat of the lines and the jovial feel given off by the poem's alliteration. When the first description of the Green Knight came, with the line "a mountain of a man," I immediately thought of Hogwarts' favorite gamekeeper Hagrid, but this image quickly faded from my mind as the description continued. The poet spared no detail as they illustrated this impressive spectacle of a man, who is entirely decked out in green. What were the connotations of the color green during that time period? When I think of the color, I mostly think of trees, leaves, and walks in the woods. Soft shades of it seem to evoke peace. However, the color is also synonymous with envy and perhaps greed. I wonder, to a medieval reader of this poem, what feelings the color green evoked? Did the connotations associated with it change over time, and do they differ from the connotations associated with it today?

The first indication of the Green Knight as being a magical figure is indicated on line 198, where he is described as "otherworldly." This isn't just some weird guy with an unhealthy color obsession; as we later find out, "otherworldly" is almost an understatement, and poor Sir Gawain deals with that otherworldliness firsthand. Here, though, the word has only a neutral connotation. Another reference to the Knight's magical nature is on line 240, when he is described as "a miracle or magic," which is perhaps a neutral-positive connotation because of the use of the word "or."


When the Green Knight's massive war axe is being described, the poet writes that its head is "an ell in length at least." I had never heard of an "ell" as a unit of measurement before so I looked it up on my handy dictionary app. An ell is a unit of measurement that is equivalent to 45 inches, which is 3.75 ft. The freaking head of the axe is 3.75 FEET. Not the whole axe, jUST THE HEAD. I am unsure as to whether or not this description is supposed to be exaggerated or not but in any case: how impressive is that?

When the Green Knight does the whole "take me to your leader" business, King Arthur steps up and we learn (or at least I just did because I don't pay attention to things) that this is a story set in the famous King's court and his knights of the round table.


♫ We're knights of the round table, we dance whene'er we're able ♫
When the Green Knight first relayed his challenge, I at first didn't understand what he meant. I couldn't comprehend this mad challenge up until Sir Gawain actually delivers that nonfatal blow to his opponent because it was just that crazy. 

When I think of the word magic, though, the Green Knight's headless horseman type stunt isn't exactly what comes to mind. Where are the witches and potions and spells? The Green Knight was used by the evil sorceress Morgan Le Fay to test the bravery of King Arthur's court, yet that is the extent of it. After the Green Knight gallops out of his court, Arthur's guests merrily resume their feast and that's the end of it. The spectacle doesn't seem to greatly disturb them. It's almost as if this is just another day in the Arthurian world. Another day another chivalric obligation right? 

What a (K)night

Sir Gawain and the Green Knight is written in Middle English. I have some experience with Middle English through the reading of the Canterbury Tales last year. I read through the excerpt twice. The first time, I decided to challenge myself and I only read the original version. I struggled with it but after the first paragraph it got easier. The Middle English started to come back to me and I had fun working on my pronunciation. I read through it a second time I read the translation on the right side of the page. I loved reading Sir Gawain and the Green Knight. I can't help but compare it to what I read of the Canterbury Tales though. I have to admit that I like Sir Gawain and the Green Knight better than what I read of the Canterbury Tales. I have not read Le Morte D'Arthur but it's on my list of things to read in the near future. I like many people do know the story line though. I was absolutely fascinated by the fact that Sir Gawain and the Green Knight  it takes place in Camelot. Camelot is such a fascinating setting. One that has been used over and over again. I'm excited to see what else we uncover together throughout the rest of the semester.

As I was writing this post this movie came to my mind and I couldn't help but include a picture of it in my post.