Cimorene

In my early posts about William Morris's The Roots of the Mountains I raised issues of anachronisms (here and here) and this led to a conversation with mildred_of_midgard that was really fun about brasilwood and medieval trade! Also, ultimately she made a very good point about my statements relating to dating these novels, namely: they are not exactly meant to be datable, because they aren't really historical fiction in the traditional sense. ( Read more... )

So yes, it's completely legit to observe that dating their events, or identifying contradictions in the dating thereof, is beside the point to the same extent that this is true of medieval romances or epic poetry. However, even though that's true, it doesn't mean that there's no value in investigating the real history behind the folklore. Even if the main value is fun. And in my case, ( picturing the clothing, because I'm into medieval clothing. ) So anyway, what CAN be pinned down about the time/setting of HOTW and ROTM?

• HOTW deals with a massive alliance of germanic tribes successfully repelling a Roman invasion from their forest home of Mirkwood, which is definitely somewhere on the continent, but that's all we got. Goths have already joined the Roman army, but this is evidently only a recent development, and these traitor-Goths are responsible for leading the Romans to their homeland. At the beginning of HOTW the Romans are still a distant rumor, basically new to most of the members of these tribes. So it likely takes place quite early in the history of Roman-germanic conflicts, perhaps somewhere between the 2nd century BCE and the 1st century CE.



• All the peoples in HOTW dwell in wooden longhouses, which, accurate. You can read on Wikipedia about how Tolkien just copied Meduseld from HOTW and therefore introduced the word "louvres", which historians later accused Tolkien of being anachronistic for because the word 'louvres' wasn't present in Anglo-Saxon England, lol. Yes okay Wikipedia, point taken. I'm trying not to be quite that silly.



• ROTM takes place many generations, perhaps a few hundred years, after The House of the Wolfings. The tribe of the Wolfings live in the forest, protecting the boundaries of a small settlement of farmers and shepherds in a peaceful valley at the foot of the mountains. The shepherds and farmers are allied germanic tribes and all are still pagan. If Wikipedia is to be believed, the Goths converted to Christianity in the late 4th century AD and were one of the first germanic peoples to do so. This is covered extensively in Jordanes (Morris was certainly familiar with it, and drew on it for these books otherwise, although that's no guarantee he intended to treat it as canon).



• The settled germanic tribes in ROTM still preserve a basically egalitarian society based on seasonal Thing assemblies in a stone circle ("[In] Finland [so-called "court stones"] are found in Eura, Ulvila and Kokemäki. They date typically [to] during the Pre-Roman Iron Age and the Roman Iron Age. In Sweden, they are called Domarringar (judge circles), Domkretsar (judge circles) or Domarsäten (judge seats). In Finland they are called Käräjäkivet (court stones). In some places in [the] Nordic countries they were used [for Thing assemblies] until [the] 17th century"), but they have hereditary chieftains now instead of their former method of elected war leaders from HOTW.



• The society of ROTM have a fortified city with stone houses. I don't think this can be used to date anything though, because as far as I know, there is no stone architecture from pagan germanic tribes currently available to architectural historians. I think this was just Morris letting his fancy run away with him, to be frank.

(Regarding my two posts about anachronisms: if ROTM is intended to be set in Crimea, which is possible, the brasilwood dye is probably fine even as far back as the 200s or 300s CE; but if you want to use the existence of the bowed string instruments to date it the whole thing would have to be pushed forward to around the 10th century CE, when like, almost everyone was converted to Christianity: they established the Archbishopric of Uppsala in Sweden in 1164 and that's the furthest Northwest they had to go. Yeah, I'm not serious about dating it then. Possibly he just didn't care but probably he was just plain wrong about the bowed string instrument.)

I was originally (before looking up a ton of stuff) thinking 5th or 6th century AD might be the intended ballpark target time period, because there were many more Asian incursions into germanic tribal territory in those centuries; but that is actually way too late for them to all be pagans. Of course, Morris might have just kept them pagan because he loved germanic paganism and was a Norse saga fanboy, while still imagining his setting in the 5th or 6th centuries. But on the whole - and this conclusion is definitely pretty much vibes-based -, I am thinking 3rd-4th century CE for ROTM and 1st century BCE or CE for HOTW. To the extent that that is valid. Which is like... maybe roughly 20%.

Knitting involves a lot of repetitive motion and can create problems, and comes with frequently recommended stretches, especially for the wrists and hands. And I HAVE experienced some discomfort sometimes in my wrists and taken a break for that. Also I stretch them a lot more. But the problem I have from knitting that I find to be unique is a specific strain - usually cramps I guess actually - under the spine-side edge of my right shoulder blade, if I've been knitting too intensively. In the past I have experimented with different kinds of daily stretches to try to limber it up but these were periods when I was working in daycares and aftercare programs (still the most fun I've had at a work practice, but I'm totally 100% unwilling to go through the professional educations for these fields) and hence moving around my whole body and doing lots of other things with my hands and arms daily - cleaning, dishwashing, and arts and crafts, for example.

So anyway, usually what happens is that I get too excited about knitting, and knit too many hours in a row and too many days in a row, and then I get cramps under the right shoulder blade, and I have to just not knit until they go away - a few days to a week. Actually this happened to me once from drawing too much as well, lol. Not usually one of my problems. ANYWAY though, THIS time...

I finished sewing all the ends in of my newest pink cabled cardigan one week ago last Friday, and I have not knitted or sewn anything since then - a few doodles, but mostly I've just been reading, staring at cats, and playing solitaire when I can't stop myself. I can't start a new knitting project until it stops hurting. So it's been over seven days and it is still uncomfortable!

Don't get me wrong: it isn't like constant cramping. I'm not needing to take painkillers (I think I did the first day maybe). It's just uncomfortable and a bit sore, like maybe there's a knot or something there? But I just don't know enough about it or these body parts. The only thing I know to do, besides gently moving around but not enough to cause pain, is taking anti-inflammatories. And I feel quite silly and annoyed about the idea of having to see a doctor for this! You can't see a physio without a referral from a doctor, so even if they might be more useful, it's doctor first and they are perhaps less likely to send you to a physio for something comparatively mild. My parents, who have both had minor annoyances from things like this in the past, agree that it sounds like the kind of thing you're supposed to treat at home, but I don't know HOW to treat it at home, and I don't even know the right search terms to investigate how (or if): heat or cold? stretches or trying to hold it immobile??? Ibuprofen or not? So maybe I have to call a doctor about this???? As mild as the discomfort now is... I know that I still can't start knitting again while it's here, and it's never stuck around this long before.

My one idea, lying in bed last night, was that I might be able to find tips by looking for posts about stretches and aches and pains specific to knitters. All the ones I've seen before have had to do mostly with the wrists and hands and maybe the neck a little bit? But there's bound to be some SOMEWHERE, right? Another issue: the position and the repetitive movements are somewhat different in continental vs. English/American standard knitting, so are all the English-language results going to be talking about English knitting and useless???

I can't throw myself into researching this at the moment, though. I was thrown into a tizzy this morning with reminders of three things I have been putting off (ADHD tax) but have to fix:

1. signing up for driving lessons,



2. cleaning another 8 months' worth of crud out of my email and trying AGAIN to unsubscribe from everything possible so that my email might be usable, instead of overwhelming me with a wall of unparsable random trash every time I try to open or use it?,



3. apparently my notification settings are messed up on one of the... I think currently SIX SEPARATE Finnish goverment websites that I have to have different accounts on and sign up and alter the settings on SEPARATELY and they DON'T EVEN ALL WORK THE SAME and thinking about dealing with them always makes me want to cry. But I digress, anyway, the last time I was at this one, it seemed to be working fine and I thought 'Oh! This was surprisingly easy!' except this morning I got a call and apparently there was a notification through it sent to me that I NEVER GOT, so somehow I managed to fuck up the notification settings I guess? So I have to go back and try to figure out how? I didn't get in trouble and the call was fine, I'm just stressed about trying to fix the website. I hate government websites. They always give me a headache and not infrequently reduce me to tears.

So this was all before breakfast (because I was sitting hanging out with Tristana in the sunbeam instead of going to eat, even though I was already hungry). And as a result I was unprepared to Cope before breakfast, but then I discovered it's Monday morning which means it's time to refill my pillbox, and I didn't feel up to filling my pillbox before breakfast. But that would mess up my routine (to do it after) so I unwisely - invoking the ADHD tax again - decided to just take the foil packets of the pills today and then fill it after breakfast, but then because I wasn't following my pillbox routine I accidentally took a whole SSRI instead of a half for the first time in over six months. This is ANOTHER ADHD tax, because I've known my old doctor retired since December, and I can't have the monthly phone calls you get to check in on your psych meds until I meet my new doctor in person, but I haven't gotten around to meeting my new doctor in person, so I've just been using up my prescription and taking half pills instead of asking for a new prescription for the smaller dose. This should not be disastrous. I'll probably get those funky sparks when you move your head, perhaps, at worse. However, I briefly panicked about it and took an entire benzo, on top of my ADHD meds, and on top of this double dose. It seems fine so far? I turned on some music and furiously dust mopped and cleaned the vacuum. But I'm still not happy because oh, also, that means:

4. I have to make an appointment with my new doctor whose name I don't know which might mean I have to call and wait in the phone queue instead of using the nice web portal like usual.

4b. This reminds me I was supposed to sign up for some blood tests in February but I was too tired. To contemplate going out of the house to be blood tested. So I didn't. I gotta do that too.

It's too many things. Yes, I took my ADHD medicine, but it doesn't fix that - like, the issue of too many things on the list - it just, as one memorable Tumblr post said, starts the Roomba. It doesn't prevent it from getting stuck under the sofa.

I did finish The Roots of the Mountains and The House of the Wolfings, and I did get quite interested in the romantic plots and depictions of women fighting in war therein, which certainly do seem to have inspired LOTR. But another issue fascinated me alongside it, namely the orcs.

For context, my opinion, prior to my recent reading of and about these two Morris books, of the whole issue of orcs and goblins in LOTR was that they are essentially racist. I think any attempt to portray a humanoid fantasy species that are inherently evil would be inevitably (with the possible exception of a hypothetical situation where exploring and deconstructing that exact issue was the whole point). I had garnered the impression that the dehumanification of orcs was done with the intention of making it less agonizing/harrowing/tragic, to allow the Good characters to be fighting and killing a depersonalized Evil, but that Tolkien himself (eventually?) even was aware of (? or uncomfortable with?) the implications. (I set aside the film portrayal, which made it worse, but I'm just discussing the books here.) But I haven't investigated that issue or the scholarship about it that I recall, just read posts and essays in fandom and online about it. (I know there is scholarship about it, but I haven't looked.)

Recently I did a websearch about William Morris's HOTW/ROTM and discovered (as mentioned in a couple of previous posts) some indications that these books, specifically, had inspired bits of LOTR, and my curiosity determined me to finish wading through the boringness/rhyming poetry of HOTW in order to finally read ROTM. And I read it! Part of what I found in that websearch was the Wikipedia article called William Morris's influence on Tolkien, which is a bit of a grab bag but included this:

Morris describes the Dusky Men as "long-armed like apes", "as foul as swine", fighting with crooked swords, and forming "a stumbling jostling throng".[24] Massey comments that their nature is dehumanised, so they can be slaughtered "with impunity", and that Tolkien modelled the Orcs on them.[24]

[24] Massey 2007, pp. 130–132.

Massey, Kelvin Lee (2007). The Roots of Middle-Earth: William Morris's Influence upon J. R. R. Tolkien. University of Tennessee (PhD thesis).

And then also, in Graham Seaman's 2003 Introduction to The Roots of the Mountains (also mentioned in a previous post), this: ( Read more... ) Therefore, I started reading the book after these two passages with the impression that the "Huns" or Dusky Men of Morris's ROTM were going to be a fantasy race: definitely not human - acting like zombies, incapable of breeding with people (and also inherently evil). Please note: I do not unquestioningly accept that quote from Jordanes and what it is apparently arguing, but I wanted to investigate the matter further myself. But even if I didn't swallow the argument whole, I did still expect this passage to be factual - that is, for the Dusky Men to actually be unambiguously, in the text, a fantasy race, not just human beings, who are inherently evil and all that jazz.

But they aren't.

Surprise!

So now I have to deal with what they actually ARE in the text before I come back to whether Jordanes, et. al. absolves Morris and Tolkien, or to what it could mean.

Are the Huns unambiguously inhuman fantasy monsters? No. Are they like orcs, goblins, or zombies? No. They are described as ugly, short-necked, small-eyed, etc., but none of the physical descriptions go beyond the standard anti-Asian racism discussed so extensively in Said's Orientalism. They are guys who are not as smart or good at fighting as the heroic germanic tribesmen - that's why they formed a stumbling, jostling throng in that quote: because they weren't all drilled and prepared to take up orderly formations and obey the orders of their commanders. They were just panicking. Can they interbreed with humans? Yes. And they do. Are there half-breeds to deal with? Yes. They are either raised as Dusky Men or murdered as infants by them. So, then, is it possible that they are actually human? Again, not really, if you take the testimony of the various characters who relate exposition about them as true (and it is true within the story, I would say), but I don't think that's intentional. Here is a small selection of the most relevant quotations about them:( Read more... )

So to sum up: ROTM's Dusky Men are an all-male, all-warrior parasitical society. All its citizens are warriors who do no other labor, and they keep a proportionally massive enslaved population, whom they abuse egregiously. Their natural children by their captives usually resemble their fathers but not always, and are not infrequently born with severe cognitive disabilities; of the apparently healthy offspring, the male ones are raised as Dusky Men and the female ones murdered. They travel in groups, but they are not nomadic: they look for a comfortable place they can exploit and move in there to stay. Further groups of Dusky Men arrive over time, but this seems to be the result of having exhausted natural resources or grown too numerous for their previous residences, or from being driven out in war.

They very definitely aren't the historical Huns, because they don't fight on horseback, and don't even seem to move their people on horseback, and they don't arrive with herds of livestock. (Also we know the Huns didn't practice universal female infanticide.) (If Wikipedia is to be believed, Jordanes wrote about the Hunnic Altziagiri tribe's summer and winter pasturage in Crimea, so this lack of herding is a deliberate departure on Morris's part: he puts quite a lot into emphasizing the Dusky Men's refusal to do any labor at all, which is certainly his socialism showing. More on this later.) They also very definitely aren't a possible depiction of any other real civilization in history, because of ( Read more... ) But given that the Victorian English reader would not find these circumstances implausible, I think they are still compatible with intent to portray a race of people, not a race of orcs or monsters. ( Read more... )

When you consider that ROTM is a novel from the point of view of the Goths, it is easier to accept that some parts - like the accusations of ugliness - might represent racism on the part of the characters, and not necessarily the author. In other words, the Dusky Men might be intended as a portrayal of a plausible human society of total assholes, whose assholery is in their behavior - enslaving and oppressing other people so that they can be the idle rich, and also sadism and cruelty - and whose appearances are described in all the classic racist cliches from Said's Orientalism because that is, realistically, how medieval central European societies repeatedly described people from Asia. The descriptions are xenophobic and reflective of the worst traditions of Orientalist racism, but they are completely in character for his text, which is essentially a fictional medieval history - it poses as the kind of history composed on the basis of oral folklore, with many appeals to what the fictional oral tradition says, with levels of detail comparable to epic poetry. (Morris was a huge fan of epic poetry and translated a lot of the prose Edda, some of the poetic Edda, Beowulf, and various medieval French romances into English.) Roughly, this book seems to be answering the question, "What if there existed a bundle of orally-transmitted song and poetry about the length of the Iliad about this bit of the history of the Goths (that particular racist one from Jordanes up above, I mean) and the bits around it, and somebody had translated it into graceful and beautiful prose, what might that look like?"

This has accounted for sources and motivations behind a lot of choices here, but it hasn't really settled why his Dusky Men differ in the ways they do from what you might expect of the, you know, horrible enslaving Asian conquering horde in the middle ages. And the answer to all of those whys is probably ultimately "Morris's passionate socialist beliefs", although the connection between those beliefs and the outcome on the page is open to multiple interpretations.

The enslaving Dusky Men's monstrous refusal of labour - which isn't just about becoming social parasites, but is a choice which was inherently destructive of one's moral character and happiness, according to Morris's worldview - is clearly related to socialism. We can detect reflections of growing capitalism, the transatlantic slave trade, the oppression of the English working classes, etc. But it's harder to diagnose the universal female infanticide. Is this a choice driven by titillation, essentially - an attempt merely to make them more alien, more horrible? ...No. Spoiler: it's probably because for Morris, socialism includes and implies female equality.

Morris is not a perfect feminist, but his novels, his nonfiction, and his actions as a business owner and political activist were all strongly in support of what we would today call feminism. He believed that women were men's moral and intellectual equals, and his vision of a future socialist utopia is one of full gender equality. In his socialist fantasies women and men share equally in the joyful, physically and morally edifying physical labor of agriculture and figure equally as masters of all the arts and crafts; in his medieval pastiche novels women figure as heroes, warriors and decision-makers, though not always to the same degree. So. That's probably why. Maybe I'll have figured out a theory to explain the connection better by the time I've written the other essay I need to write about the women warriors and politicians in this book.

So disappointed to remember there's a two-week hiatus in Wax's stupid show (911), so there's a whole nother week before she can tell me whether the character really died and how the melodramatic parts of fandom reacted to that.

We went to Stentorp and petted the lambs!

Here's all the pictures on my pet photo blog

I got a sweater's worth of very soft brown finnwool too.

This is my favorite. I can't get over the expression of this lamb while Wax was petting it 😂. I want this reaction to everything:

My dad, as regular readers likely remember, is a quadriplegic wheelchair user (partial use of arms, C5/6 injury) dating from a car accident 22 years ago when I was home from college.

Because of all the complications inherent in spinal cord injuries, there are a lot of minor scares and hospitalizations, and these have readjusted my anxiety meter over time so that a sudden ambulance ride to the ER is no longer guaranteed to be alarming, or a memorable milestone; especially here, so far away (my parents live with my sister in Louisiana, so the time difference is 8 hours). Oftentimes I never hear the exact details except that it wasn't too serious until he's back home the next day.

But on the 7th he had a minor inpatient operation to remove a small tumor, but then two days later was sent back in an ambulance after a cardiac event that required three defibrillations. There was evidently a hematoma after the surgery that led to internal bleeding that dropped his blood pressure too low (BP is one of those spinal patient issues). Now he's been there all weekend and seems to be feeling better, but apparently they are still investigating some mysterious (?) symptoms (as always, the degree of mystery that actually exists vs. what doctors have remembered to explain to mom and she has remembered to tell us is uncertain). He isn't being kept cold to control his blood pressure anymore and they moved him out of intensive care, anyway.

This uncertainty is a little tough to deal with, even though as a baseline I'm very inured to periods of elevated worry about his health. I guess it's partly that there's not enough information to judge exactly how worried I should be. But I haven't been this worried about him for a few years at least.

I know teenagers in reality are often foolish and prone to risky behavior and refusing to pay attention to guidance or instructions, but having always been extraordinarily cautious and timid, it's a quality I can't relate to and have difficulty even empathizing with.

Even a character who, like The Abbot's Roland Graeme, is 100% plausibly foolish, impulsive, violent, arrogant and daredevil — being 17 and spoiled by a horribly abusive combination of parental indulgence and neglect — is very difficult for me to read.

My patience with foolhardy risk-taking in narrative is very short before I start saying constantly, "This guy should have Darwin Awarded himself to death by now. Please let this one kill him. And on the plus side, if he died this time, I wouldn't have to read about any more of his infuriating decisions."

So the bad parenting retiring from the foreground has not made the book much more palatable so far.

Two days ago I dreamed "man with two butts" was a massive old meme that was so oversaturated that when someone started to say it it was like 🙄 "...Yeah yeah, the man with two butts was there."

Reading Morris's fantasy novel with the nomadic descendants of the great House of the Wolf of the Goths, who patrol the borders of a settled agrarian civilization composed of other, distantly related, more modernized Germanic tribes, and was the inspiration for Tolkien's Dunedain.

The thing is that The House of the Wolfings, by pinning itself to the Goths repelling the Roman empire, is pretty definitely in the 1st century CE, and so The Roots of the Mountains, by narrowing itself to within a few hundred years after that,

CANNOT plausibly have a bowed string instrument.

(But they definitely do in the novel.)

Like sure, nobody has a document that says the Goths and other Germanic tribes definitely didn't have bowed string instruments, yet at the same time, the earliest evidence for a bowed string instrument anywhere in the world is in the 10th century. (I went and checked because it sounded so wrong as I was reading along. Like no that's definitely not the kind of instruments I thought these people had! And I'm probably right, which is odd, when it comes to this period and these cultures, because that was Morris's Special Interest.)

Can I just be off by five hundred years in my placing of this setting? No, because the whole central deal of this novel are Hun incursions, which were pretty much over before the year 500 CE. (True, the "Huns" in this novel are apparently supernatural monsters and not human people - I haven't met them yet, but the introduction explained this - but honestly, this defense is even weaker here than in the case of Tolkien. I mean, he literally calls them Huns! So it's definitely racist that they're horrible evil ugly dehumanized monster hordes, even if he then describes them as supernatural beings. I will not tackle this issue until I've read that part, however.)

I guess it's my dude William Morris who is uncharacteristically (given the context of his beloved special interest) mistaken. Had to happen sometime. Really, Who Cares? But I'm finding it distracting.

William Morris's The House of the Wolfings and The Roots of the Mountains

Almost done with House of the Wolfings, but I want to make one post after I finish both of them.

Walter Scott's The Monastery and The Abbot

I finished The Monastery last night. Overall, I liked it significantly less than The Antiquary, but I did enjoy it. It is about the Protestant Reformation in Scotland, and... it has its points, but... anyway. I didn't quite realize that The Abbot is basically volume 2, though. So I will read it before making a post.

I just finished the Oresteia of Aeschylus (trans. Sarah Ruden), Electra of Sophocles (trans. Mary Lefkowitz), and Euripides' Iphigenia among the Taurians (trans. Anne Carson) and Electra (trans. Emily Wilson).

These are all about the same saga, though: Agamemnon's murder of his daughter Iphigenia, his wife Clytemnestra's revenge-murder of him, and his son Orestes and daughter Electra's revenge-revenge murder of her. I have a lot to say, but I intend to read Anne Carson's An Oresteia (Carson's translations of Agamemnon by Aiskhylos and Elektra by Sophokles - which I just read translated by those other people - and Orestes by Euripides, which I haven't read yet). I bought The Greek Plays, ed. Lefkowitz & Romm, which contains 16 plays, to get the Wilson translations of Euripides, but when I opened it I got curious and started reading the others and completely forgot that I had bought Carson's An Oresteia the day before.