Wednesday, 10 July 2013

Beyond Borders Welcomes Nathaniel Campbell


Nathaniel Campbell is a medievalist and adjunct instructor in the humanities at Union College (Barbourville, KY). His research includes medieval theologies of history, text/image relationships in visionary and mystical texts, and the writings of Hildegard of Bingen. Among the latter, he is at work on a new translation of Hildegard's last and most important work, the Liber Divinorum Operum. He completed a Master's in Medieval Studies at the University of Notre Dame in 2010, a Fulbright Fellowship in Germany in 2008, and a B.A. in Classics and German at Boston College in 2007.

We look forward to having Nathaniel's post on the work of Hildegard of Bingen on Monday July 15th!

Monday, 8 July 2013

In the Margins: Reading a Fifteenth Century Medical Manuscript


   London, Wellcome Library MS 5262 is a late medieval vernacular medical recipe collection. The manuscript was copied in the early fifteenth century, in the area of Worcestershire. It is rather small in size, and still in its original fifteenth-century binding. The manuscript contains medical recipes which tell its reader how to cure common diseases ranging from tooth aches to stomach aches or headaches.

   The past two decades have witnessed an increased interest in marginalia, especially in the field of literary studies. In our society the marking of books is generally perceived as a form of vandalism. However, annotating books bridges the gap between the text and the reader and allows for them to project their thoughts on the text and their engagement with the text onto the material object. The reader is able to create a unique copy of the book they are reading. It is this process of engagement between the reader and the text which can shed light on the use of the book, which is especially attractive for scholars of the book as a historic artifact. In this blog post I will give examples of how and by whom MS 5262 was used.  

   MS 5262 contains several marks of ownership, all of which date to the post-medieval period. ‘H. Henri Dingley’ added his name in the ruling on top of folio 12r. Palmer identifies him as ‘Henry Dyneley/Dineley or Dingley, d. 1589, of Charlton, Worcs’. The fact that Dingley’s Worcestershire origin fits in with the manuscript’s place of production, Worcestershire, suggests that MS 5262 circulated in the Worcestershire area till at least the end of the sixteenth century.[i]





   Andrew Wilkinson, an early modern owner, left more elaborate marks of ownership in the manuscript. He has indicated his ownership twice. Folio 34r reads: ‘Who so (e)wer on me doethe louk (and) aim Andrewe Wylkynsons bouk’. His second annotation on f.60v reads: ‘I perteyne unto Andrewe Wylkynson Surgeon’ and includes a shield with his initials.

    A third signature has been added by ‘a dryden’, who could not be further identified. Finally, there are traces that MS 5262 must have made its way to Liverpool by the eighteenth century. An annotation on f.39r reads: ‘Liverpool May 1732’. This could suggest that MS 5262 is likely to have circulated in the north of England.

   Fifteenth century owners did not only leave signatures in the manuscript, but also used the space provided to insert additional texts. Folio 61v contains an additional text in Latin. The text is a prayer to St. Cynehelm also known as Kenelm, an Anglo-Saxon martyr and saint, of the ninth century. It is interesting in this context that St. Cynehelm is associated with the area of Worcestershire/Mercia. Although its overall content does not relate to medicine, one line of the prayer alludes to it:

esto nobis medicina cont(ra)
Mu(n)di tediu(m)
[Be to us a medicine against the weariness of the world]

Although the phrase ‘esto nobic medicina’ is not uncommon in medieval prayers to saints, it is possible that the annotator saw this as a link to the content of the manuscript.


   Moreover, the manuscript contains several fifteenth century marginalia, which serve as additions to the text. For example, a reader has added the word ‘hot’ to recipe as an indication of the warmth that is necessary to relieve a back ache, and on one occasion the preposition ‘on’ has been added to indicate the place of application of a remedy. These additions underline the fact that MS 5262 was read in order to be put to practical use.


    MS 5262 also bears marks of use by early modern owners. They all target the Catholic content, which includes charms, which have been crossed out, as well as illuminations depicting saints, which have been blackened. An example of offensive text appears on folio 39r, in the form of a variation on the ‘Flum Jordan’ charm, a common charm used to stop bleeding.[ii] This charm, which must have reeked of Catholic superstition to post-reformation readers, has been crossed out, along with two more examples of charms of this kind in the manuscript. To indicate to themselves or to a future reader that these passages were to be skipped, the early modern reader has added a generic designation in the margin, in a sixteenth century secretary hand:  ‘a charme’ In this context, it is important to note that what is at first sight an engagement with the text, is in fact a refusal to engage with it. Along with the damage done to the illustrations of saints, these alterations seek to obliterate the text. Thus, science is separated from religion, an action deemed necessary by the early modern reader in order to justify the use of this manuscript.


   A short overview of the different kind of marginalia in MS 5262 thus shows the ways in which this book was used and by whom it was owned in the fifteenth century and beyond. The lack of early modern engagement with the text suggest that by the end of the sixteenth century, MS 5262 had evolved from being regarded as a utilitarian tool to be personalised to a historical artifact to be archived.

-Contributed by Sarah Laseke




[i] Richard Palmer, ‘MS 5262: Medical Recipe Collection, England, 15th Century’. Wellcome Library Catalogue. < http://archives.wellcomelibrary.org>.
[ii] Rossel Robbins, ‘Medical manuscripts in Middle English’. Speculum 45.3 (1970): 405.


Wednesday, 3 July 2013

Beyond Borders introduces Sarah Laseke


Beyond Borders is pleased to introduce our new guest blogger Sarah Laseke. Sarah received her BA in English Literature and Culture at the Rijksuniversiteit Groningen in 2011. She has recently finished her MSt in Medieval Literature at the University of Oxford and will start her PhD this autumn.

Her research interests include fifteenth century manuscript production, scribal practices and the late medieval book trade. Sarah's PhD will focus on the production of romance manuscripts and scribal professionalism.

We look forward to presenting her captivating post on 8 July 2013! 

Tuesday, 2 July 2013

Circling the Square

           
Vitruvian Man, by Leonardo da Vinci,
c. 1490, pen & ink on paper


In book three of his series, Vitruvius wrote:

“since nature has designed the human body so that its members are duly proportioned to the frame as a whole, it appears that the ancients had good reason for their rule, that in perfect buildings the different members [sections/structural elements] must be in exact symmetrical relations to the whole general scheme.[1]

Leonardo da Vinci’s Vitruvian Man was based on this study, but it was also the basis for floor plans and decorative features in Ancient and Medieval architecture. The overlapping of the square and the circle in Vitruvian Man is also seen at Notre Dame Chartres (NDC), and very often called a mandala. In some instances, the mandala maybe better called circling the square. In this post, I wish to define these two terms and examine Notre Dame Chartres’ geometric features to distinguish whether the intent of Medieval design is best labelled mandala or circling the square.

Before examining NDC, I would first like to more clearly define my terminology. A mandala is the overlapping of squares and circles to symbolize the universe. The mandala is created from a religious standpoint. Its origins lay in Buddhism and Hinduism and the term was brought to the west in the 20th century to describe the western use of the overlapping shapes. Mandalas represent "cosmic truth" in the east, and in the west came to represent the intermingling of heaven and Earth and the creation of God. The square, Earth, represents limited space, whereas the circle represents the boundlessness of the heavens. This could be interpreted as expounding upon the boundlessness of God and the limitations of man. The circle and the square are also used because they are symmetrical and balanced and like God in their uncomplicated forms. Cardiff University psychologist David Fontana states that mandalas symbolic nature aid the viewer in reaching a" mystical sense of oneness with the ultimate unity from which the cosmos in all its manifold forms arises."[2] The mandala is therefore a form of religious design used for meditative purposes. Circling the square, like a mandala, is a symbol depicting the relationship between the heavens and Earth. Unlike the mandala, circling the square is created with scientific and mathematical interest. The overlapping shapes are used to measure proportions, ratios and distances like in da Vinci's Vitruvian ManMiranda Lundy, author of Sacred Geometry, states that when the circle (the heavens) overlaps the square (Earth) and they are of equal area or perimeter that we call this circling the square, and that “if the Earth fits inside the square, then the equal perimeter circle defines the relative size of the Moon to 99.9 percent accuracy.”[3] Both terms refer to the formatting and design of the universe, yet they derive from differing intentions. I feel that although these terms do label one for science and one for religion, the two fields  were very much married in the Middle Ages, making the identification of circle/square art difficult.

“if the Earth fits inside the square, then the equal perimeter circle defines the relative size of the Moon to 99.9 percent accuracy.”


When I began my research, I was determined to pick one term over the other to describe the NDC window. Mandala seemed appropriate being that it is a religious setting, but the incredible understanding of math by Gothic architects argues for the use of circling the square and the use of modules to create a sound structure. I have come to believe that circling the square and the mandala are united at NDC. In my previous post about NDC, I discussed the numerological qualities of the NDC West Rose Window which represents both biblical and scientific ideas. The West Rose Window depicts the Second Coming of Christ, but also the twelve months of the year, the four seasons (as represented in the arms of the cross), and the Aristotelian elements. With the emphasis on religion from the interior the pattern seems more mandala-like. From the exterior where these images are unavailable to the viewer, we are dependent on circling the square to communicate the idea of heaven and earth intermingling that is seen from the inside.The window is symmetrical, and divine in the eyes of Vitruvius for simply that reason [5]. But with no imagery, the numbers and the format are more cosmological, and therefore better labeled as circling the square from the exterior view. Knowing that from the interior the viewer sees both God looking down at them and a calendar, the circling the square and mandala are really one in the same at NDC.

West Rose Window NDC, Interior
Circling the Square, NDC Exterior
















Circling the square can also be applied to the NDC Labyrinth. The Labyrinth, a symbol for life’s journey, is overlooked by the West Rose Window with Christ in Judgement. With this in mind, the circling the square concept could represent the heavens around the earth and God watching the lives of creations from above.

NDC Labyrinth Circling the Square

So is circling the square synonymous with term mandala? Yes and no. Circling the square and mandalas are both the overlapping of circles and squares in the creation of a symbol of the universe. Yet mandalas are created from a religious background and circling the square from a mathematical. This mathematical means of creation focuses on proportions and symmetry, and once completed can be associated with cosmological and religious meanings. The existence of circling the square at NDC acknowledges the creators recognition of the importance of geometry in academia and rather that they were academics themselves. 


 ~Emily


1 Lundy, Miranda. "Circling the Square." Sacred Geometry. New York: Walker &, 2001. 14-15. Print. 
Fontana, David (2005). "Meditating with Mandalas", pg 10. Duncan Baird Publishers, London.
3 Lundy.
4 Hemenway, Priya. The Secret Code: The Mysterious Formula That Rules Art, Nature, and Science. N.p.: Evergreen, 2008. 92-96. Print.
5 "Geometry in Art & Architecture Unit 9." Geometry in Art & Architecture Unit 9. Dartmouth University, n.d. Web. 30 June 2013

Monday, 24 June 2013

The Beautiful Ties That Bind


Figure 1

In his monograph, Ornament: A Modern Perspective, James Trilling eloquently states:

 ‘The most elaborate interlace patterns are among the very few kinds of ornament that are simply too hard for even a trained viewer to “read” without substantial effort…It is also strong indicator of luxury, since it implies the highest level of craftsmanship. Thus complex interlace is part and parcel of visual display, whether the context is secular or religious. Yet its baffling intricacy suggests an additional purpose, which was apotropaic.’[i]

With my previous post ‘On the Ontology of the Medieval Manuscript’ in mind, I would like to explore Trilling’s observation of the intricate and apotropaic aspects of ornament. Within the context of medieval art history I will discuss the possible functionality of the carpet page using the Insular gospel, the Lindisfarne Gospels, as an example.

Figure 2
Ornament has been used to visually amplify an object without intruding upon its functionality. For example, an interlaced floral motif may be used on a textile or vase, but it does not change the functionality of the object. Instead, the floral motif on such objects makes the item more appealing and visually complex. However, within the context of religious manuscripts, the use of ornament, specifically interlace, may have an alternate function. The carpet pages of certain Insular gospels (such as the Lindisfarne Gospels) are examples of this different objective. The carpet pages of the gospel book are partially responsible for the sacred manuscript’s liturgical function. In many medieval books, ‘….art not only effected an elevation by ornamenting the dead flesh and carnal words, but also engaged the very process of reading and interpreting as essential to the spiritual struggle.’[ii] It is part of the ornamental programme’s objective to ensure that the manuscript continually embodies an unbiased purity, which is required to for the book to manifest its liturgical functionality. The medieval scribes’ use of pictorial representations on, or with, letters empowered the written word, mystified and fetishised it in order to protect the words from being altered or replaced, while at the same time reinforcing that the words were of God and ‘…seen as a living trace, moving, changing, being.’[iii] This sense of being was not only accomplished by the use of pictorial representations, but with the incorporation of interlace as well.

Exegetical texts by Columbanus describe the scriptures as a set of written commandments of the Lord and the apostles, which act as ‘…the necessary instruments through which the defeat of evil and eternal salvation could be obtained.’[iv] The use of intricate complex patterns with written words (such as scripture) rendered the words more difficult to read, more opaque and mysterious, and much like any enigma, more powerful.[v] The decoration of the written word has been equated to the act of clothing the word in precious garments much like a relic encased in gold and precious gems.[vi]
Figure 3
Hence, it may be suggested that a page dedicated solely to ornament, such as the carpet page, is an illustrious example of a precious, yet protective, garment whose complex design commands a space within the manuscript that allows it to autonomously function as a shroud whilst interacting with the rest of the programme. Furthermore, this protective shroud is represented by a visually symbiotic relationship between abstracted interlace and the apotropaic symbol of the cross.


Figure 4

If the intertwining of pictorial elements and interlace with text are able to invoke a sense of life and protection to the written word then the use of the same elements, without words, and on a grander scale, could be interpreted as a dynamic statement of purpose. The carpet pages within the gospel books are composed of a myriad of illustrations that emphasise the power and presence of Christ. Within the Lindisfarne Gospels, the Christian symbol of the cross, or Chi, is continually used as an element of decoration. The cross as a symbol of decorative protection was widely used on objects or places, ‘[t]he bookcover or the church door incorporating the design of the cross is certainly meant to afford sacred protection and to proclaim the holiness of the book or the place…’[vii] The purpose of the carpet pages, in the Lindisfarne Gospels, is visually rendered by the continuous use of the cross, as an apotropaic symbol, which is carefully weaved amongst knotted beasts and vegetal motifs. ‘The protective power of complex interlace explains its frequent association with the cross in virtually every branch of medieval Christian art.’[viii] The word cross is derived from the Latin word crux, which means pain or torture, but its true meaning has been forgotten and it is associated with the religious meaning of the Christian doctrine.[ix] Michelle Brown mentions that ‘[t]here was also…a long lived tradition relating to the talismanic function of the cross as a device to ward off evil… [s]uch a function may also have been an aspect of its role within Insular books for…each word was written as a “wound on Satan’s body”…’[x] In considering the talismanic traditions of the cross mentioned in the preceding quotation, the cross-carpet pages of the Lindisfarne Gospels can also be understood to have a talismanic function to avert evil from interfering with the word of God. Additionally, the now forgotten definition of crux is still applicable even when used within a Christian context to represent the protective presence of Christ. Since the cross is used as a sign to ward off evil it has to propensity to cause pain or torture the evildoer that approaches the manuscript with malicious intentions.

Figure 5
Thus, when confronted with the carpet pages of manuscripts like the Lindisfarne Gospels, the sense of movement within the intricate details quickly envelops the mind and draws the eye closer in an attempt to decipher to ornate markings of the page. At first glance, one cannot help but to encounter the immediate presence of the cross, but the other interlaced decorative elements within and around the cross, work together as additive features. These features make the apotropaic symbol of the cross an intricate glorification of Christ or an emblazoned maze of confusion that has the propensity to   strike the foul-hearted viewer with fear.



~Shandra



[i] James Trilling, Ornament: A Modern Perspective (Seattle: University of Washington Press, 2003), 98.
[ii] Herbert L. Kessler, Seeing Medieval Art (Peterborough, Ont.: Broadview Press, 2004), 105.
[iii] Laura Kendrick, Animating the Letter: The Figurative Embodiment of Writing from Late Antiquity to the Renaissance (Columbus, OH: Ohio State University Press, 1999), 207.
[iv] Heather Pulliam, Word and Image in the Book of Kells (Dublin: Four Courts Press, 2006), 179; ‘For these are our rules, the commands of the Lord and the apostles, in these our confidence is placed; these are our weapons, shield and sword these are our defence; these brought us from our native land ; these here too we seek to maintain, though laxly; in these we pray and hope to continue up till death, as we have seen our predecessors do,’ Columbanus Hibernus, "Letters of Columbanus I and II," ed. G.S. M. Walker, in Letters of Columbanus (Cork: CELT: Corpus of Electronic Texts, 2004), 17,19, accessed March 27, 2012, http://www.kennydominican.joyeurs.com/LatinPatrology/ColumbanusLetters.htm.
[v] Laura Kendrick, Animating the Letter: The Figurative Embodiment of Writing from Late Antiquity to the Renaissance (Columbus, OH: Ohio State University Press, 1999), 208.
[vi] Ibid, 50.
[vii] E. H. Gombrich, The Sense of Order: A Study in the Psychology of Decorative Art (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 1979), 248.
[viii] James Trilling, Ornament: A Modern Perspective (Seattle: University of Washington Press, 2003), 100.
[ix] E. H. Gombrich, The Sense of Order: A Study in the Psychology of Decorative Art (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 1979), 247.
[x] Michelle Brown, The Lindisfarne Gospels: Society, Spirituality and the Scribe (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2003), 316.

Images:
Figure 1 (Detail) : Shandra E. Lamaute, Mark Carpet Page, March 28, 2012, Special Collections, University of Edinburgh, Edinburgh, in Evangeliorum Quattuor Codex Lindisfarnensis, vol. 1 (Oltun Et Lausanna Helvetiae: Urs Graf, 1956-60), Folio 94v
Figure 2: Gospels of St. Chad Carpet Page Folio 220, digital image, ARTstor, accessed April 3, 2012, www.artstor.org
Figure 3 (Detail): Shandra E. Lamaute, Matthew Carpet Page, March 28, 2012, Special Collections, University of Edinburgh, Edinburgh, in Evangeliorum Quattuor Codex Lindisfarnensis, vol. 1 (Oltun Et Lausanna Helvetiae: Urs Graf, 1956-60), Folio 26v
Figure 4: Ibid.
Figure 5 (Detail): Ibid.

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