But Really Though, Does This Make Sense?

Since this is the last week of class, as well as the final round of blog posts, I wanted to sum up our findings and observations we have concluded of the middle ages through this course. Specifically, how far we have come from blindly to stating “the medieval were just dark times” to analyzing the complexity this time period enfolded.

If one were to do a quick google search of the word “medieval today,” the results would generally fall under two categories: an article reporting new/updated research that uncovered something during the middle ages or an article reporting how this modern event or actions relates to the middle ages. The latter part uses a range of elements from the middle ages as a point of reference. These promising articles include headers detailing how we are either in a better or worse state than our former counterparts. Yet, when reading these articles, we no longer can excuse ourselves of agreeing with writers and actors who ignorantly say something is medieval and leave it at that. Instead, I presume that we put our skills we picked up on our class to the test and go through a mental process of sorts:

“Oh this article is trying to connect this [include recent event/action/moment] to this dynamic we talked about in this course. It claims ‘…insert direct quote’ but does this really make sense?”

This is just one variation of how you might begin to analyze, but my focus is the moment where we do not allow ourselves to excuse these writers and instead ask the questions. Is what the author claiming historically accurate or another anachronism, how the majority of the population thought the middle ages went down?  Are they making sense? But, really does it make sense?

Week after week, we watched and read works that at moments seemed so far the realm of possibility, we had to accept it as another’s interpretation of the medieval. Some may point out that these modern-day news articles is another of the writer’s interpretation of the medieval. I come ask myself if this is acceptable continuation of fabrication the medieval of what is not? Moving past the point of how a work is not claiming to be historically accurate, we should definitely cast a broader dialogue of the connections to the complex period we have only just begun to study. The modern day population have some beliefs (medieval = barbaric, unclean, violent) that have been exploited and retold over and over by the media. I leave it open to you of how we could start talking of how misguided we can be when it comes to this period in history.

Media Significance Through the Film: How to Train Your Dragon

In the modern age, television and film has been widely accepted as a tool to educate children. In most children’s programming, there includes underlying messages or morals through the childlike humor it integrates. Towards the end of the Chapter 4 of Medievalisms: Making the Past in the Present, it mentions how it is through adaptations of medieval works that young boys learn what it takes to be a man. They learn by examples of an alpha male who goes through trial proves his masculinity through his actions, courage, strength, and chivalry.

Historically, telling a story has been an effective tactic for teaching a lesson. From Jesus Christ teaching the word of God by storytelling to fables teaching young children, all have an underlying message. However, what makes storytelling the most effective tool when it comes to teaching children a lesson? What stops creators from directly telling younger audience members, “It’s okay to be different; we all do things our unique way?” Which elements does a story create that attracts a child first while unconsciously educating them?

In How to Train Your Dragon, Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III, the young male lead of the film, desperately wants to be like everyone, proving his masculinity and pride as a Viking by slashing dragons. It is an identity that he desperately wants to claim but like the older blacksmith said, Hiccup is not destined to be. This element of wanting to be in a community has been iterated through multiple storylines, within and beyond the medieval period. There are numerous works, adaptions, and inspirations of men wanting to prove their masculinity by going off to battle, saving something, someone, or someplace, by either killing, fighting, or dueling with someone. It’s a default idea that has been replicated in Arthurian tales, Beowulf, and other readings we have read so far. Yet, Hiccup is a complex character with a modern conscious appealing children today.

Younger generations are taught to adopt a modern conscious of being sympathetic, creative, and diligent of working with others through characters like Hiccup. This goes against of the ideas of how to be more charismatic, manly, and honorable in medieval works. Nevertheless, How to Train Your Dragon combines both worlds to create a film that appeals to audiences old and young. This combination off-balances a delicate relationship of either being medieval or historically accurate, but this is not the intention of the film. One of the aims was to send these modern messages and the media in this case a film. How it shifts this relationship is a discussion that is up for debate.

This Beatrice vs. That Beatrice

I grew up in a household where gaming wasn’t allowed, so on weekends I would trek over to my cousin’s house, plop myself down in front of his big screen, and play. I never understood why it was that video games were considered such a bad influence, as I loved gaming and never saw an explicit negative effect. Now that I have seen the walk-through of Dante’s Inferno I am considering changing my stance.

“The Middle Ages form a space in which theory and narrative, gaming and textuality, identity and society are remediated and reimagined,”(10) says Kline. I believe that to be true; we’ve been offered ample evidence to show that contemporary society views the middle ages with a kind of “double vision”(Kline 4), using modern day articles (such as a bathrobe) to stand in for, or be interpreted as medieval (bathrobe becomes a wizard’s cape). This reimagining of medieval times is discussed in length by Chadwick in his discussion of masculinity in Dante’s Inferno, in “Courtly Violence, Digital Play.” But the real question comes from when you pair Kline’s ideas with Chadwick’s; if the game is making a statement on our society today using the venue of the Middle Ages, then what in the SAM HECK is going on with women?

Chadwick barely glances over the fact that Beatrice has been pulled from her lofty role in Dante’s Inferno  as the pilgrim’s heavenly guide and benefactor to a “feminine object”(Chadwick, 153). This, to me, is a way bigger statement on society than our wish to return to the simpler times of real men! According to Pugh and Weisl, Dante in Dante’s Inferno, is a “new identity of a mythic warrior stitched onto the naked space of his iconic status”(19). Let’s then take a look at the “new identity” of Beatrice’s “iconic status.”

First of all, her entire involvement in this whole affair revolves around Dante and his inability to keep it in his pants. She is no longer a protector, instead needs to be protected, and throughout the entirety of the game is under the control of, or within the possession of a male figure. Even when she passes out towards the end, she is taken away by a male angel, in whose arm she lies limply. Chadwick stressed the point that courtly love has to do with “inborn suffering”(155), doesn’t Beatrice suffer enough to be considered for the role of heroine? Obviously not.

Beatrice in Henry Holiday’s painting “Dante and Beatrice”

 

Beatrice in Dante’s Inferno

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Most other video games that I have played have not been about the dichotomy between masculinity and femininity. Instead they have been about the accumulation of power. Unfortunately in Dante’s Inferno and many other contemporary medieval sources we have viewed (including my final research topic, BBC’s The Black Adder), makes it distinct that the only people who can accumulate said power are men, and that this power is an inherent form of masculinity.

This is why I am choosing to reevaluate my views on video games in general, and participatory medievalism more specifically. Chadwick says that this game helps us evaluate “medieval masculinities and contemporary bodies”(157), but if it says anything about medieval femininities, all I can say is that I am glad I was born in the 20th Century.

Modern Jousting: Fantasy? History? or Both?

Any medieval fair would be incomplete without a jousting tournament. From the  Medieval Times restaurant chain, to the Minnesota Renaissance Fair, jousting serves as the center piece of the event. On the surface these jousts appear to be one of the most inauthentic parts of our practice of the medieval; the jousts are carefully staged and the armor is much more for show than for practicality. This joust at a renaissance festival has two knights wearing armor from different eras of the Middle Ages, one with a great helm, and the other with the bascinet. However these anachronisms may create an atmosphere  that is more authentic to the spirit of the late medieval joust than attempts to create a more realistic joust. 

One attempt that comes to mind to create a “real” joust was the History Channel’s “Full Metal Jousting.” The show had competitors wear identical protective  suits of armor and compete in no hold barred jousting. The show never took of and I suspect the reason for this was a lack of medieval essence. There was no chivalry, no fanfare,  no courtly love, no sense of nobility amateur medievalists are used to seeing. It did not matter if the jousts themselves were real, the atmosphere surrounding the show did not match many observers imagined understanding of the medieval joust. 

Actual medieval jousts combined the realness of the History Channel’s “Full Metal Jousting,” with the fun and fanfare of the jousts of the typical Renaissance fair. The first medieval jousts were little more than melees geared at training knights for wars. Even as the sport became more refined, the militant and deadly side of the sport remained; Henry II’s death in a tournament is an excellent example of the sheer brutality that occurred in a joust.(1) However the real violence of the joust did not take away from the chivalrous atmosphere present in a medieval tournament. Knights such as  Ulrich von Leichtenstein would joust for the honor of his lover, wearing an image of Venus on his helmet.(2) 

While medieval jousting was certainly more dangerous than the stages jousts of the Renaissance fairs, the ideals espoused in both events are remarkably similar. If medievalism is truly, “fantasy built on fantasy” than the medieval joust is the perfect subject matter for modern enthusiasts to recreate. Jousts allowed medieval knights and nobles to espouse ideals that were fantasies themselves. One could not wear fancy armor mirroring Venus the goddess of love in battle, but a joust gave medieval knights the space to do so. So while the staged jousts at the Minnesota Renaissance Fair are not as dangerous as their real predecessors, they still provide an air of authenticity more than many other events at the fair.

Elitism in Experiential Medievalism

Is it wrong to be an elitist with your fantasy? I’m not asking that as a rhetorical question. How inclusive should we be in applying the umbrella term “medieval” to a work of fiction or interactive pretend? I ask because this week I’ve read an excerpt from a book using a falsified old english voice in the name of giving a feel of historic authenticity before heading to a “renaissance fair” in which I could look to my left to see a man dressed as batman’s the Joker and to my right to see another man in a black kimono sporting a Japanese katana (Yes I know the katana was a weapon employed often in medieval Japan, but it still seemed topographically out of place if not necessarily temporally). These ironies combined with our conversations in class yesterday suggest that historical accuracy, even a minimal standard of accuracy, is by no means a requirement or even necessarily a desirable trait in modern medievalism. It’s not about looking authentic, no. It’s about expressing your “true self”, about escapism, about realizing your interpretation of the middle ages. And the actual history of the period is superfluous. Yet this runs counter to what we are often told about historical fantasy. It should always feel “realistic”, we should strive to be historically accurate in the name of realism, nobody will want to read the book if you don’t make it sound like a dejected medieval Scotsman raving over a campfire. Conventional wisdom says that realism and historical accuracy are worthy goals in fantasy concerning historic periods like the middle ages because they lessen the burden on our suspension of disbelief, thus allowing the fantasy to be more easily simulated in our imaginations. Naturally there need to be concessions and compromises. No one will want to visit a Ren Festival where people are working as peasants or thralls constantly at risk from plague or warfare. Educational as that might be it wouldn’t be fun. Too much realism and you render your imagination sterile and bound by historical fact. But can we live without it? Realism is what allows us to look past the overlong hotdog lines and contemporary political commentary seeded in the jousting announcements at the renaissance fair. Without it, the imagination isn’t left free. Rather the whole illusion upon which the imagination is supposed to work collapses. So naturally we should employ some form of elitism in judging whether or not something fits into a medievalist fantasy. Surely we should be allowed to have standards and to say “No, you can’t have a steampunk stand at a renaissance fair, that doesn’t make sense. It ruins the illusion for everyone else.” Yet in denying the steampunk stand in the name of illusion we also run the risk of denying the transexual dressed in elaborate pink knight armor or the lesbian couple dressed as “wenches” or the man simply wearing an eighteenth century tri-corner hat, perhaps because that’s all he had to wear and he wanted to be one of the costume wearers. Realist elitism in contemporary medievalism is both a necessity and a danger. So should we make use of it? Should we be elitists in our engagement with the medieval world? Write your thoughts in the comments.

Portrayal of Joan in The Trial of Joan of Arc vs. The Messenger

We have spent the past week reading excerpts from the book The Trial of Joan of Arc, which is a translated transcript of the actual Trial of that took place in Rouen, France by the English. From the book, Joan was portrayed as a submitted girl to God whose will of action was only driven by nothing but God’s command. Even though there are some doubts on the legitimacy of the transcript (since the person writing it down is against Joan and it was translated twice), we can still tell that she is no doubt 100% loyal to God. Not only did she seem submitted and willingly to die for God, but also soft and calmer in the court. There were no records of traumas, physical resistance or attacks on the Englishmen. 

The Messenger: The Story of Joan of Arc, molded Joan into a completely different character from the transcript. It’s interesting to see Luc Besson giving Joan a false backstory (mother was raped and killed, hometown invaded) when according to the real story, Joan was the one who left her parents. It is obvious that Besson is giving Joan a different motive in being so eager in going to war with England: rather than God’s will, her enthusiasm is driven by vengeance. Her avengement comes with a price: persuading her consciousness that it’s okay. The day right after the traumatic event, the priest keeps repeating to her “The lord does things for a reason” “There’s a reason why you’re here and she’s not”. I believe the priest plays a big part in confirming Joan’s consciousness and directing her to become “The Messenger” (regardless whether she is really one or not). Her conscious seems the be responsible to her actions more than God’s command is.

 

Besson shaped Joan as not only violent, but also crazy. A crazy hero, is what I’d call her; the way she pulled out the arrow from her chest, the way she lash out on the english bishop, not to mention the way she clutches on the Charles VI like she’s a fanatic. That’s certainly not how Joan was like in the transcript at all. The lacking appearance of St. Michael, St. Catherine and St. Margaret in the film also made me feel like Joan might be suffering from childhood trauma than acting on God’s command.
This can be because medieval films can’t survive without a little distortion to the context and a little spark to the characters. It relates back to how we perceive medievalism in modern days.

Biases in Film-making: What About the English?

In the introduction to the trial Daniel Hobbins addresses the reliability of a text or trial conducted by the English, against whom Joan had just fought a war. Hobbins believes the text is accurate, and the trial lacks enough bias to skew the ruling. He cites the fact that the transcript was printed and circulated in Latin, a language accessible to people from many countries at the time, as evidence for self-vindication on behalf of the judges. In other words, the judges wanted to be as transparent as possible because they knew their decision was contentious. They believed the trial itself, and all the evidence collected for it, would justify their ruling to those who still supported Joan. By circulating it far and wide they were declaring that they had followed all procedures correctly and had committed no wrongdoing in condemning Joan.

In the matter of bias Hobbins mostly discusses the figure of Cauchon, who led the inquisition. The later inquest focused on him and how much his desire for power and favor from the Burgundians or the English influenced his decision. Hobbins dismisses bias due to the depth and detail in the evidence collected, stating that Cauchon was obsessive in his quest to be accurate. Despite this, Hobbins acknowledges that the trial was enormously political in nature, that the end result was already decided, and that religious authorities were constrained by the desires of the English. He does not believe that the English did or could purposefully force their desired outcome. More importantly, he doubts that they forced her into men’s clothes so that she would be declared a relapsed heretic and handed over for execution.

“The Messenger” displays the exact opposite opinion. The trial is portrayed as entirely biased. Joan’s condemnation and execution are forgone conclusions and the mockery of the trial must play out for the sake of image. The English threaten the head inquisitor, reminding him that he answers to them. They actually arrest a dissenting priest, one who is well respected and from Rome, who refuses to take part in the trial. They demand that Joan be tortured until she tells them what they want to hear so that they can cease with the trial and execute her. When Joan is asked to sign her abjuration and the priests beg her to reconsider her stance the English are impatient to simply burn her. And when all else fails, they enter her cell and create circumstances where she must return to men’s clothes, which will force the Church to denounce her as a relapsed heretic and hand her over for execution.

While Joan in the film puts the clothes on herself and doesn’t tell the priest what happened, Besson still casts blame on the English for her death by having them force her into a situation where she must choose to wear men’s clothes or be partially nude. One option leads to a loss of dignity, the other to death. She just chooses a preferred option.

Medieval Stereotypes and their influence on Modern Medievalism

One major topic of discussion regarding Eaters of the Dead is Crichton’s motives for writing this novel. In his introduction, Crichton states that he began writing Eaters of the Dead because of a challenge he received from a friend. Specifically, Crichton was attempting to adapt the legend of Beowulf into a more interesting story. This statement caused our class to criticize Crichton, as he appeared to be writing his novel for the purpose of pandering to consumers and not for the love of literature. However, I propose that Crichton, along with any other aspiring Medieval artist, are bound in their artistic freedom by modern stereotypes of Medieval themes.

In the modern era, we as consumers have specific stereotypes etched into our brains regarding various medieval themes. When we picture Vikings, we think of savage barbarians with horned helmets and axes, who pillage, plunder, and set things on fire as a way of life. When we imagine the knight, we think of a soldier in a gleaming metal suit, riding on horseback, armed with a lance, and adhering strictly to the code of chivalry. Whether or not these images reflect historical accuracy, these images are what the modern consumer perceives as true. Furthermore, when a consumer reads a book, watches a movie, or plays a video game, these are the representations that they expect to see, and if these expectations are not met, consumers will stop purchasing your book, movie, or video game. As a result, artists are limited in their freedom of choice because if they stray too far from these specific stereotypes, their work will not sell.

In my opinion, the video game industry provides the best examples of the constraints placed on artists by consumers regarding medieval games. While the gaming industry’s appeal to female consumers is rapidly growing, it has been a historically male dominated market, creating a very specific group of consumers with particular expectations. As a male consumer of medieval themed video games, I can say that what you expect to play as a large, strong male character with badass combat moves who can kill a variety of enemies to save the day. If this expectation is not met, I personally would most likely return the game after a just a bit of play time. However, these expectations clearly do not only belong to me, as the gaming industry continues to pump out games filled with these kinds of protagonists and content. For example, a new game, For Honor, was recently announced that continues to fulfill these expectations, demonstrating that they are common in the market for medieval games:

These Consumer expectations limit the freedom of artists, whether they be a game developer, film studio, or author, if they want their creation to be enjoyed by the masses. Coming back to Crichton, I think he too was limited in his artistic choices if he truly wanted to create a version of Beowulf that would interest a wide variety of people. We as consumers expect certain characteristics to be ascribed to Vikings, and if these expectations are not met, many people will simply stop reading. Crichton himself also points at these limitations, when he has Ibn Fadlan describe the northmen as “giant”, but uses a footnote to state that this was not the case, as the average height of a Scandinavian male was around 5’7″ in the tenth century. However, Crichton recognizes that readers think of vikings as massive warriors, so that is what he gives us.