On a Global Middle Ages

One of mine and Michael's colleagues here at York, Samantha Lee Gonzalez, has very kindly done a blog post on some interesting and very important work she is doing at the moment....enjoy

Hola frijoles! (yes, I just said ‘hello beans!’). This being my first post on here, I hope it’s not too terrible a read. I suppose I should start with why I wanted to participate in the postmedieval reading group, which is largely due to my current attempts to get “in touch” with the Middle Ages. I’ve always been fascinated by medieval literature, but lately have been wondering what exactly is my place in it all. My family comes from Puerto Rico and the Philippines, two places that have never (as far as I know) been discussed as even having a medieval history. Of course, one can love and study topics outside of one’s culture(s) (and really, whatever my ‘culture’ happens to be is one convoluted mess anyway), but still I have those ‘but Sam, really, why are you so invested in this?’ moments.

 

As a slight digression, I was recently half-watching a horror film called Borderland, which had a cliché plot involving some college peeps getting killed by a cult in some Mexican border town. The movie sucked, but the title got me thinking about borders, which got me thinking about Gloria Anzaldua’s Borderlands/La Frontera: The New Mestiza. In it, she discusses how borders are unnatural and (no surprise here) confining, and how they affect people politically, socially, and psychologically. If borders affect individuals in such potentially traumatic ways, how detrimental are they, then, to scholarship? I typically find that it is in the borderlands—these geographical, theoretical, what have you middle, outer, third, in-between, around spaces—that truly remarkable and interesting intersections of ideas take place.

 

One could say that there are indeed studies being done in, for example, medieval Chinese, Indian, Japanese, etc histories and literature. However, these are often being done in departments separate from traditional ‘medieval studies’ departments. Why? Why not open up (capital O open?) the borders of the Middle Ages, bust it out of Western Christian Europe, utilize, say, the vast amount of theory lumped under the terms ‘postcolonial’ or ‘postmodern’ in the analysis of it? Should we? While my response to the latter question is a resounding ‘well, hells yeah we should,’ I do understand that not everyone would agree with this.

 

Perhaps then my niche could be in this growing movement to globalize the Middle Ages. I’m hoping to start with my MA thesis, which will be on an Arthurian romance that was translated into Tagalog in 1889, from a c.1513 Spanish text. There was an interesting situation in the Philippines where, up until American occupation in 1902, the reading matter of the natives was largely medieval Spanish literature. How literate were the natives, how much of this literature was read, published, etc, I’m still working out. I’m hoping to look at what the Tagalog version has made of the stuff from Europe, what it’s doing/keeping/excluding, and what the post-colonial reception of a medieval text was/is, among other things. So far I just have some of the text translated and the title:

 

Dinaanang Buhay ni Tablante de Ricamonte sampo ng Mag-asauang si Jofre at ni Bruniesen sa Caharian nang Camalor na Nasasacupan nang Haring si Artos at Reina Ginebra

 

which means:

 

The past life (or story) of Tablante de Ricamonte including the married couple Jofre and Bruniesen, who were living in the kingdom of Camelot under the rule of King Arthur and Queen Guinevere.

 

There are also some connections I’m finding to Cervantes and some other interesting tidbits that I’ll perhaps update everyone on in another blog entry once I get further into my research.

 

Anyway, despite the progressively dire news about the state of the humanities floating about, I’m finding it fairly exciting to be in the field right now. I’ve recently found some of the scholarship that Geraldine Heng has done, as well as the Global Middle Ages Project or G-MAP(http://www.laits.utexas.edu/gma/portal/) which includes G-MAP, Mappamundi, and the Scholarly Community for the Globalization of the Middle Ages (SCGMA), all aiming to coordinate scholarly efforts to expand on the borders of the Middle Ages. There is also apparently a book titled Medieval Culture and the Mexican American Borderlands, which has unfortunately received 2 stars on amazon.com, but if anyone has read this, let me know if it’s any good. And of course, if anyone has anything else that could possibly help in my research, I’d definitely appreciate it.

 

Hmm, I never know how to end these things, so…er…until next time?

 

~Sam

Psychoanalysis, Adam Phillips, General Awesomeness

I might be the one who just posts complete crap whereas Michael is the one of substance (PLEASE postmedievals write some posts for us to put up), but here is the highlight of the term at the university of York:

Wednesday, 10th March

HONORARY VISITING PROFESSOR, ADAM PHILLIPS, Writer and Psychoanalyst 
Professor Phillips will deliver a lecture and related postgraduate seminar based on The Maturational Processes and the Facilitating Environment: Studies in the Theory of Emotional Development by D. W. Winnicott.

POSTGRADUATE SEMINAR
4.00pm, L/N/006, Langwith.
'The Capacity To Be Alone'.

LECTURE
6.00pm, ATB/056 & 057, Alcuin.
'My Happiness, Right or Wrong'.
This is the second in a series of three lectures. Third lecture to follow on 23 June. 
All welcome, admission free.

Contact: Hugh Haughton.

much love,

Benjamin 

http://yorkutopias.blogspot.com/?spref=fb

Check out sarah rees jones' work.

Yt ys rad. 

x

Chaucer's Loaded Pies

http://www.museumoflondon.org/English/EventsExhibitions/Permanent/medieval/objects/record.htm?type=object&id=515184

In the Postemedieval Reading Group this week, we are going to be discussing urban disorder, Chaucer’s Cook and ‘subculture’, as we’ve already discussed below, and I’ve been doing the research/reading material for a little digression in the group specifically about the dice-based gambling that Chaucer’s Cook might be talking about:

‘For in the toune nas ther no prentys
That fairer koude caste a paire of dys'

(4385-6)

One of the interesting things we came across (thanks to Sarah Rees Jones) in preparation for this session is an item in the Museum of London’s Medieval collection, from the late 15th Century. The collection of small bone dice, 24 in all, were found in Dowgate Hill and raise the really interesting question of how ‘fair’ Chaucer’s Cook’s apprentice might have thrown his dice.

Three of the dice have only the numbers 1 to 3 repeated on them, and another three have only the numbers 4 to 6 – allowing either high or low numbers to be thrown depending on the requirements of the game. The other dice in the collection been shown, under X-ray, to be ‘weighted with drops of mercury in one side or another’ (Museum of London Website). Not one of the dice in this collection are ‘straight’ and, moreover, loaded dice were referred to as ‘Fulhams’ – ‘presumably the Thames-side village of Fulham was notorious as the haunt of dice-sharpers’ (Museum of London website). Interestingly enough, though, these particular dice were found north of the river, not all that far from where the Cook’s apprentice liked to hang out (see map below): ‘For whan ther any ridyng was in Chepe, / Out of the shoppe thider wolde he lepe’. So we can geographically locate the Museum of London’s loaded dice with an area of London known to Chaucer’s cook. Martha Carlin’s article, Fast Food and Urban Living Standards in Medieval England, meanwhile, locates the Medieval ‘Cookshops’ of London in the same Thames-side location, Dowgate.

- Google Map of Route through contemporary London from Cheapside (A)

to the site of the dice's excavation (B).

So here we have Chaucer’s Cook, who we know to be a dishonest man, who ‘many a pastee laten blood’ (4346) and who, himself, most likely ‘haunteth dys, riot or paramour’ (4392) being geographically linked with the (literal) site of not only known gambling, but also cheating. Meanwhile, the Cook’s historical counterpart, Roger de Ware, appears in the plea and memoranda rolls for 1373:

Langebourne. Roger de Ware, cook, who was presented as a common nightwalker, confessed his offence and put himself on the mercy of the Court.

The City Ward of Langbourn, in which the historical Roger de Ware found himself in trouble, is again not far form the site of our dice and from Cheapside, where the Cook’s tale takes place. There are obvious textual connections between Roger de Ware and Roger, Chaucer’s Cook. Not only does the Cook mention ‘Hogge of Ware’ (4336), ‘a town in Hertforshire, some thirty miles from London’ (Riverside Chaucer, footnote), but soon after mentions the very crime for which Roger de Ware was arrested: ‘He hadde a jape of malice in the derk.’ (4338)

We can even locate the crime of ‘nightwalker’ as one which is associated with dice-cheats: an entry in the letter books of the Corporation of the City of London from 1311 gives us a portrait of someone I always imagine to be quite like Chaucer’s Cook and the apprentice from his tale:

'Elmar de Multone was attached, for that he was indicted in the Ward of Chepe for being a common night walker; and, in the day, is wont to entice strangers and persons unknown to a tavern, and there deceive them by using false dice. And, also, for that he was indicted in Tower Ward, for being a bruiser and night walker against the peace; as, also, for being a common vorere. And, also, for that he was indicted in the Ward of Crepelgate for playing at dice, and for that he is wont to entice men into a tavern, and to make them play at dice there against their will.'

We can now thus locate two historical examples, Roger and Elmar, near Cheapside, within a small area, alongside their literary counterparts in the Cook and the apprentice from his tale.

Of course, there are two conclusions we can draw from the inclusion of these characters in the bureaucratic apparatus. Firstly, it is obvious that gambling or, rather, cheating at gambling, was a serious problem. Secondly, that the problem was bad enough to be worth legislating against. A famous edict of 1190, during Richard I and Phillip of France’s crusade to the Holy Land, prohibited any soldier under the rank of Knight from betting money on any game or sport. The Knights, meanwhile, were able to gamble as long as they did not lose more than 20s in one day and night (I’ll leave Ben to make the Marxist analysis on both the class-division here and also on the fact that there was no such restriction imposed on how much one could win per day!) Kings Richard and Phillip, meanwhile, were at liberty to gamble freely, to lose (and win) as much as they liked. That gambling was not only the preserve of the lower social classes should not necessarily surprise us: in the 15^th Century (1468) the Duke of Clarence prohibited members of his household from gambling of any kind, except during the 12 days of Christmas, on pain of dismissal. Indeed, royalty themselves were not above cheating, as we read in A Christmas Mumming, 1377, in British Museum, MS Harleian 247, f. 172v., where the future Richard II is duped with loaded dice (although these ones ensure that he wins):

'Soon afterward, the Prince with his mother and the other lords came out of the chambers into the hall, and the said mummers saluted them, showing a pair of dice upon a table to play with the Prince. These dice were subtly made so that when the Prince threw he would win. And the said players and mummers set before the Prince three jewels in succession: first a ball of gold, then a cup of gold, then a gold ring. The Prince won these at three casts, as had been previously arranged.'

If we look at the accounts of Henry VII, meanwhile, who, if my A-Level Tudor History classes are anything to go by, was an avaricious and humorless man, we find that he was a fairly keen gambler, betting on everything from cards and dice, to tennis.

It is worth here mentioning that playing cards are notably absent from my account, but that is only because they are notably absent from the works of Chaucer, and the first reference to playing cards in England is not until 1413. We read in the household accounts of Edmund Mortimer that he regularly lost at various games, losing over £157 in total during his travels with Henry V between September 1413 and April 1414, and one of the games at which he regularly lost was cards.

This is all very interesting, of course, but what’s most interesting is that it allows us to begin to form a picture of the (sub)culture of gambling in the late-Medieval urban space. I would like to re-work this into something more pointed, with more of a conclusion: but for now, it provides some interesting food for thought, some loaded pies, (larf larf) for the Reading Group!

And also, if anyone who is reading this has any primary sources on Medieval dice games, then please let me know: I found some details online, but with no corroboration from contemporary sources, which would be great! I'd love to get to play some dice games in the group on Tuesday!

Much Love,

Mike

an important link

Jocelyn has taught me a staggering amount in my time here (not just about vocalic alternation in old french verbs) so everybody should dig this shit. Soon, ladies and gents, the french of england WILL BE medieval studies...


http://www.fordham.edu/frenchofengland/index.html

Medieval Madeleine?

Taking a short break from the vicissitudes of PhD application (literally one of the worst experiences of my life) I just thought I’d do a short post about this and that.

Today, in my wonderful interdisciplinary seminar on Gender and Sexuality, the lovely Kate Giles took us for archaeology. It was AWESOME. I wish I were an archaeologist now, partly because of the obvious Indiana Jones associations (he is part time, after all, and very rarely seems to have to do any referencing), but also because I’m profoundly drawn towards the way the objects we study absolutely explode with meaning, and tell some wonderful stories. Posthuman anyone? Makes me want to re-read À la recherche du temps perdu.

It was a great class, and one of the broadest and most exciting I’ve been to in a while, partly because we spent some time analyzing the doors of the CMS, which has always been a serious concern of mine, and chewing over the value of medieval studies (which is a bit of a naughty digression, but in these days of funding slashes, must be pretty good for solidarity, even if I am a bit of a traitor these days). Also nice was threatening the Beth with two years in the re-education camp when we have the hard-line Stalinist takeover (JOKES! As the youth say). Though I like all the love given to Marxist theory in the discipline.

I’m also kicking myself as we don’t have any exciting archaeological sources (access plans of buildings, for instance) to spin into our next postmedieval reading group next week on Chaucer’s Cook/Chaucer’s Punks, as that would pretty much be the icing on the cake. It would be wonderful to have some sources that allow us to fully spatialize the taverns, shops and streets in which Chaucer’s Cook/Hogge de Ware have so much fun. So if anybody has any, get in touch. Though it’s funny, living in York, we might as well do a walking reading group, stopping at various Taverns on the way…

Anyway, has anyone got any good dissertation ideas? I’ve got two weeks, and fuck all.

Postmedieval week 6

BIG love to all the single ladies, put your hands up, here's the next reading group:

Making Medieval Subcultures? Chaucer’s Cook/Chaucer’s Punks

As medievalists, we spend a lot of time talking about medieval ‘culture’. Perhaps, then, it might be interesting to start talking about ‘subculture’. Chaucer’s Cook, one of the most critically underrated figures in the Canterbury Tales, gives us a glimpse of a little urban disorder and an unruly band of revelers:

And gadered hym a meynee of his sort
To hoppe and synge and maken swich disport

In this next session, by critically combining parts of Dick Hebdige’s 1979 book Subculture: The Meaning of Style with Chaucer’s Cook, his ‘real life’ counterpart Roger De Ware, and Martha Carlin’s picture of eating out in medieval London, perhaps we can start to imagine what kind of figures these Apprentices are, and how urban spaces are organized in medieval London.

Is Chaucer’s cook part of a ‘subculture’? Is Hebdige’s book, itself an account of social disorder in twentieth century Britain, useful for imagining this? What kinds of places are Taverns, and streets, and what kinds of rules are attached to them?

Reading Provided:

The portrait of the Cook in the General Prologue to the Canterbury Tales; the Manciple’s Prologue; the Cook’s Prologue and Tale

Roger de Ware, Cook from the Calendar of Plea and Memoranda Rolls of the City of London

Chapters Six and Seven of Dick Hebidge’s Subculture: The Meaning of Style

‘Fast Food and Urban Living Standards in Medieval England’ by Martha Carlin in Food and Eating in Medieval Europe