Tuesday, 22 January 2013

Medieval Middle Class Women go to College: Three 15th Century Illustrations from Christine de Pizan's The Treasure of the City of Ladies


        Christine de Pizan (1364 - c. 1430) wrote The Treasure of the City of Ladies (also known as The Book of the Three Virtue, and A Medieval Woman’s Mirror of Honor) in 1405 to offer practical counsel to women of every class in medieval society.  Of particular interest to scholars and students today is the attention she pays to middle and lower class women in The Treasure.  Hers is not the first such book to advise women on their proper behavior and duties.  Manuals written by men to mold their wives and daughters were numerous in Europe from the time of ancient Rome through the Middle Ages, including works by such well known individuals as Tertullian in the second century, St. Jerome in the fourth and Louis IX himself, both saint and king, to his daughter Isabelle in the thirteenth.[i] While Christine's curriculum in The Treasure of the City of Ladies  does not endorse Cicero and the classics, it does recommend the study of finance, military defense, and estate management along with fewer than the usual religious admonitions.[ii]  As companion texts, The Book of the City of Ladies and The Treasure of the City of Ladies (1404-5),  first celebrate the history of women and then guide them with practical advice on how to live.  This two-pronged approach creates an advocacy for women’s education not seen in the western world prior to Christine’s utopist and practical vision. Charity Cannon Willard concurs: "No such comprehensive description of women in these sections of society had been attempted previously."[iii]   Also noteworthy, many of the surviving manuscripts of The Treasure of the City of Ladies have some connection with Margaret of Burgundy and her sisters, all of whom made powerful marriages, disseminating The Treasure throughout Europe.[iv]  The significance of women book owners on the cross-fertilization of artistic styles cannot be overemphasized.  Noblewomen often moved as young girls to distant lands to become familiar with the court and culture of their future husbands. They sometimes traveled with an entourage of guardians, fine goods, and dowry books inherited from their mothers.[v]
Figure 1
          
     The Boston Treasure miniature is the earliest known illustration of Christine's vision of a “College of Ladies” (PL MS fr. Med. 101, f. 3, 1405-10, Boston Public Library) (Fig. 1). The single miniature for the Boston Treasure contains two separate scenes, and was painted under Christine's supervision by The City of Ladies Master circa 1410.[vi]  Perhaps Christine had her text illustrated with only a single miniature in order to underscore the egalitarian scope of her college.  Dress and demeanor are crucial to understanding the visual mode of discourse during this period, as they act as metaphors of emblematic significance with regard to social status.  Additionally, an analysis of composition provides a key to understanding the degree of adherence to Christine's vision of education for all women. 
          The activity of the Prologue is the subject seen at the left of the Boston Treasure. Christine reclines on a bed trying to rest after finishing The City of Ladies. The impatient Virtues crowd by her bedside—one pulls Christine from her bed, enjoining her to get to work before she falls prey to laziness.  In the Prologue Christine writes that she wanted only to rest for a while, as she felt exhausted after writing The City of Ladies. [vii]  The Virtues have no intention of allowing her to rest, as all three say to her in unison, “have you already put away the tool of your intelligence and consigned it to silence?”[viii]  Christine, easily identified by her uniform of blue and white, rests on a canopied bed.  The Virtue awakening Christine gives her such a mighty tug that she pulls her into an upright position, commanding:
            Take your pen and write. Blessed will they be who live in our city to swell the numbers of citizens of virtue.  May all the feminine college and their devout community be  apprised of the sermons and lessons of wisdom. First of all to the queens, princesses and great ladies, and then on down the social scale we will chant our doctrine to other ladies and maidens and all classes of women so the syllabus of our school may be valuable to all. Amen.[ix]
The right side of the Boston Treasure miniature portrays all of the women addressed in the text. The middle class women are seated on a bench in the foreground, with their backs to the viewer.  Three of these women wear hoods with long liripipe tails hanging down their backs.  These hoods indicate their lower status - one never sees an aristocratic pictured in such a hood!  There are several women on the bench with white horned headdresses identical to the one our author wears, spelling out their slightly higher status as servants of the court, or members of the affluent middle class. 
Figure 2
      
     L.M.J. Delaissé believes that the artist of the Brussels Treasure (Brussels, BR 9551-2, f. 66, 1420-30. Royal Library of Albert 1st) is from the workshop of Guillbert de Metz, a Burgundian painter working in Flanders circa 1430 during the reign of Philip the Good (Fig. 2).[x]  This artist expanded the Boston Treasure prototype miniature (Fig. 1) from one to three in order to illustrate more fully the students addressed in each of the text’s three parts.  The feathery brushstrokes used to delineate the figures in each miniature also demonstrate a more elegant aesthetic at play.  This artist  makes a variety of changes from the prototype image by the City of Ladies Master (Fig. 1).  First, the format is changed from a single miniature to three miniatures with four scenes.  The artist invents an entirely new look for the Virtues, who are now slender-posed figures with long, blond hair surrounding their oval heads, always tipped in one direction or the other.  These three angelic-looking Virtues are still identical to one another in physiognomy, just as Christine states in the text.   In all three miniatures, the Virtues appear to the left of their pupils and stand in a meadow.  They also hold no attributes, yet each have slightly different hand gestures.  This miniature for the Brussels Treasure addresses the education of middle class and merchant women (Fig. 2).  The scenes is set entirely in a garden-like field.  This time all the students stand outside together in one space under the open sky.  Seven women are pictured; the three Virtues, dressed in pallid gowns and four animated and well-dressed students from the lesser nobility or bourgeoisie.  The students to the right huddle together in obvious discussion, harkening back to many of the miniatures accompanying The City of Ladies.  The formality of the previous two classrooms (not pictured here) is relaxed in this composition.  All of the students wear simple, plain colored though well-cut gowns, yet the elaborate crimped and layered veils of some convey the wealth such fashion requires.  At least two, on the right, wear liripipped hoods associated with the lower middle class. All are now seen from the front, in contrast to the Boston Treasure miniature from 20 years before, and all  turn and pose decoratively in accordance with this artists charming style.[xi] Clothing distinctions between the lesser nobility and the powerful members of the merchant class are the hardest to identify and regulate through sumptuary laws. These students in the third miniature of the Brussels Treasure represent the class to which Christine herself belonged as the wife of a clerk at court. The Virtues in the third miniature appear less severe in their lectures, for it is this section that addresses women from the lower ranks of society, from merchants’ wives to the chambermaids, although the artist only depicts wealthy bourgeois ladies in this miniature.  The artist has not pictured the laborers and serving women Christine also addresses in Part Three of the text.  The Virtues appear more at ease before their lower class students.  Two hold their hands together gently before them; only the first, on the left, extends her hand out in a gesture indicating declamation. As tempting as it might be to look for a wealthy middle class patron for this manuscript due to the prestige given to our bourgeois students in this miniature, its provenance is well known.  This sumptuous manuscript was owned by the de Croy family and later became the property of two famous women and book collectors, Margaret of Austria and later Margaret of Hungary, noblewomen of the highest rank.[xii]
Figure 3
     
      The final miniature of the four created for the Beinecke Treasure, circa 1475, located in the Beinecke Library at Yale University (MS 427, f. 72),  presents another variation of the visual models discussed so far (Fig. 3).[xiii]  This deluxe Treasure has wide borders reminiscent of those found in the Hours of Margaret of Burgundy.  It may be a manuscript long presumed lost, belonging at one time to an admirer of Christine's works, Anne of France (1461-1522).[xiv] Anne of France, inspired by Christine, wrote a book entitled Anne de France’s Teachings to her Daughter, and she was a well-known advocate for women’s education among the nobility.[xv] The high quality of the Yale manuscript resulted in many speculative attributions concerning its provenance until John Plummer's definitive attribution of the miniatures to the Master of the Amiens 200.[xvi] 
          The further away from the original source, the author herself, the less compulsion the artist has to follow the dictates of a deceased authority, preferring to update the text with miniatures expressing the tastes of the day. So luxury fabrics and fine, fashionable clothing abound in the miniatures of the Beinecke Treasure, for pleasing the patrons was more important to the artist’s livelihood than obeying the sanctions of the author who, however revered, was no longer alive to halt the process.  Christine's arguments against extravagance in dress in the Treasure are based on financial concerns rather than the sin of vanity.  Considering that during the fifteenth century fine Italian textiles cost as much as a jeweled necklace, her warnings appear quite practical.  Following Christine's admonitions, the women in the final miniature of the Beinecke Treasure are conservatively dressed.  There are no brocades or ermine or sable, and the furs, restricted by sumptuary laws to the nobility, are evident.  Only the tight-fitting green dress of the young girl with the dog and the woman behind her betray current fashion.  Several women wear looser robes and flat topped hoods suggesting the garb of nuns or more likely regional tastes. Like all the other miniatures of The Treasure, the artist does not represent the laborers and serving women Christine specifically includes in the final section of the text.  The addition of two children and a dog in this miniature constitute a delightful touch. The toddler, most likely a girl given the nature of the text (boys and girls dressed similarly until about age six), wears a blue robe and seems more captivated by the dog rather than the lecture.  Christine advises working women to
            ...have their children instructed and taught first at school by educated people so that they may know God...it is a   great sin of mothers and fathers, who ought to be the cause of the virtue and  good behavior of their children, but they are sometimes the reason (because of  bringing them up to be  finicky and indulging them to much) for their wickedness and  ruin.[xvii] 
The Master of the Amiens 200 provides us with delightful, genre-like scenes of Christine’s utopist educational vision delineated so thoroughly in The Treasure of the City of Ladies—providing school rooms for every woman in society from pompous princesses to toddlers distracted by puppies.  Christine would be delighted.[xviii]

 -Laura Rinaldi Dufresne 



[i] For a longer list see Diane Bornstein, The Lady in the Tower, Medieval Courtesy Literature for Women (Hamden Connecticut:  Archon Books, 1983), 134.
[ii] Christine de Pizan,  The Treasure of the City of Ladies.  Translated by Sarah Lawson.  New York:  Penguin Books, 1985.  76-77. 
[iii] Charity Cannon Willard, "A Fifteenth-Century View of Women's Role in Medieval Society:  Christine de Pizan's Livre des Trois Vertus" in The Role of Women in the Middle Ages, edited by R.T. Morewedge (Albany:  State University of New York, 1975), 100.
[iv] See Edith Yenal, Christine de Pisan:  A Bibliography (London:  Scarecrow, 1982), 43-44, 46-47.
[v] Susan Groag Bell, "Medieval Women Book Owners:  Arbiters of Lay Piety and Ambassadors of Culture," Signs 7 (1982): 763-764.            
[vi]The City and The Treasure, as well as other manuscripts by Christine are painted by one of her favorite artists named The City of Ladies Master by Millard Meiss, "The Exhibition of French Manuscripts of the XIII-XVI Centuries at the Bibliothéque National," Art Bulletin XXXVIII (1956): 153.
[vii]The Treasure, 31. 
[viii] Ibid. 31.
[ix] Ibid., 36
[x]Brussels BR 9551-2. Charles de Croy’s signature is on folio 104v & family arms on folios 2, 46 and 66.  L.M.J. Delaisse, La Siecle d’or de la miniature Flamande: Le Mecenat de Philip le Bon (Bruxelles: 1959), 35-36.
[xi] The headdress is not only a valuable dating tool, but it is the best indicator of class distinction.  The crimpled veils are the same as those worn by the bride in Jan Van Eyck’s Arnolfini Wedding of 1430. Gowns fashionable in Paris in 1410 are seen in The Netherlands and Flanders in 1430 accompanied by regional headgear, Margaret Scott, Medieval Dress and Fashion.  London:  British Library, 2007,  125-26. 
[xii]  (M. Debae, xvii, & 56.) Margaret of Austria acquired the de Croy library in 1511.  (Delaissé, "Le Siècle d'or … Flamande,  35-36, no. 27.)
[xiii] Yale University, Beinecke Library, MS 427, fols. 16, 49v, 72. c. 1460.  This codex may be one presumed lost, once in the Bourbon Library and owned by Anne of France (1462-1522).  The Yale University Library Gazette, 54, no. 4 (1978): 244.
[xiv] The Beinecke Treasure was virtually unknown until its appearance at a sale in Paris in 1968. The Yale University Library Gazette, 52, no. 4 (1978): 244. 
[xv] Susan Groag Bell, The Lost Tapestries of The City of Ladies: Christine de Pizan's Renaissance Legacy. Berkeley: Univ. of California Press, 2004, 75.
[xvi] The Treasure, 244.
[xvii] Ibid., 168.
[xviii] For more on this topic see The Fifteenth-Century Illustrations of Christine de Pizan’s The Book of the City of Ladies and The Treasure of the City of Ladies, Laura Rinaldi Dufresne, Edwin Mellen Press 2012.

Figures

1. The Three Virtues Return to Christine; The College of Ladies The Boston Treasure of the City of Ladies, Boston, PL MS fr. Med. 101, f. 3, 1405-10, The City of Ladies Master.  Permission of the Boston Public Library.


2. The College of Ladies; The Three Virtues Lecture Bourgeois  Women;  The Brussels Treasure of the City of Ladies, Brussels, BR 9551-2, f. 66, 1420-30.  Permission of the Royal Library of Albert 1st, Brussels

3. The College of Ladies, Lecturing Bourgeois and Common Women; The Beinecke Treasure of the City of Ladies, Yale Univ., Beinecke Library, MS 427, f. 72, 1475. Permission of the Beinecke Library.



Friday, 18 January 2013

Laura Rinaldi Dufresne, Professor & Coordinator, Art History, Winthrop University


Dufresne, born in Los Angeles, Calif., was educated in the California public school system. She studied psychology at the University of California-Santa Cruz, later earning a specialist degree in gerontology at the University of Nebraska-Omaha. During her time in Nebraska, she worked as a V.I.S.T.A. (Volunteer in Service to America) assisting  the elderly poor in rural Nebraska. Dufresne earned her Ph.D. in art history at the University of Washington-Seattle, where she served as a teaching assistant as well as an intern at the Textile Collection of the Henry Art Gallery.

Dufresne came to Winthrop in 1989,  earning tenure in 1996 and the designation of full professor in 2006. During her time here, she has curated two exhibitions at Winthrop University Galleries. In 1991, she received a Fulbright to Czechoslovakia (now Slovakia and the Czech Republic). Dufresne has  also written articles and given numerous presentations on pedagogy (1989-2000), on Christine de Pizan's City of Ladies and Treasure of the City of Ladies (1990-2000), on ceramic sculptor Paula Smith (2000-10), and on book arts (2000-2010). Her book The  Fifteenth-Century Illustrations of Christine de Pizan's The Book of the City of Ladies and The Treasure of the City of Ladies was published by Edwin Mellen Press in the fall of 2012.  Currently she is organizing a  trip to Tuscany in May of 2013 with her friend and colleague, ceramic sculptor Paula Smith, at the prestigious  La Meridiana Art Center. Interested?  There's room for a few more! Contact dufresnel@winthrop.edu. 

Monday, 14 January 2013

Vero Religiosae: The Evidence for Anglo-Saxon Female Scribes by Dr. Jo Koster


     Somewhere between 738 and 743, the English missionary Winfrið, known to posterity as Saint Boniface, wrote to his friend Eadburga, abbess of Minster-in-Thanet in Kent. Boniface, who had traveled to the Continent with “vero religiosae, ... valde eruditiae in liberali scientia " (“Truly religious women, well educated in liberal learning”) (Levison, cited in Olsen). Boniface was struggling to convert the Franks and needed elaborate materials that would impress the treasure-loving pagans with the wealth and power of the Christian God. He wrote to the abbess:

I beg you to continue the good work you have begun by copying out for me in letters of gold the epistles of my lord, St. Peter, that a reverence and love of the Holy Scriptures may be impressed on the minds of the heathens to whom I preach.

“Auro conscribas epistolas domini mei sancti Petri apostoli”: this is a task for skilled, professional copyists, not for lady amateurs. Less than a generation after the death of Bede, the most influential figures in Anglo-Frankish monasticism were accustomed to requesting that Anglo-Saxon nuns  copy elaborate manuscripts—and those women were accustomed to filling those requests, with skill and considerable artistic flair.

     One of these ‘truly religious women’ was  Þryþgifu or Lioba, a nun educated at Wimborne in Dorset by the scholarly abbess Tetta. Moving to Minster-in-Thanet, Lioba was then educated by Eadburga. Apparently a kinswoman of Boniface’s, Lioba went to the continent as a missionary and became the abbess of Bischofsheim, where she established a school, was renowned as an educator, and ran a scriptoria staffed by women (see McKitterick). The works she and Eadburga are recorded as reading are scholarly and difficult, testimony to a culture of Anglo-Saxon religious women’s learning and reading. Two of Lioba’s contemporary nuns, the sisters Harlindis and Relindis of Aldenaik in Flanders, are said to have copied a Gospel book now preserved in a reliquary at Maaseik (Budny 1985: 383). Rosamund McKitterick (1992) has exhaustively documented the development of women’s scriptoria in the convents established by Anglo-Saxon missionaries in Germany, as well as the frequent and regular exchange not only of ideas and manuscripts, but personnel among them.

     Similar convent-based scriptoria also existed in England. Excavations of Anglo-Saxon nunneries at Barking and at Whitby have revealed complete and fragmented styli, which were used in medieval scriptoria for a variety of tasks from pricking and ruling leaves to underdrawing to hard-point annotation. One such hard-point annotation is found in the Selden manuscript of the Acts of the Apostles copied at Eadburga’s  Minster-in-Thanet in the eighth century. The great German paleographer Bernard Bischoff suggested that the initials ‘EADB’ scratched in the bottom margin with a stylus might well suggest that the manuscript had been handled, if not owned, by Abbess Eadburga, since she copied those epistles for Boniface in gold on purple vellum. (Boniface’s successor Lul sent a silver stylus as a gift to Eadburga after Boniface’s death; few critics can resist the temptation to imagine these letters being written with that silver stylus) (In the Beginning). Since the manuscript also contains prayers with female grammatical forms, it is tempting to imagine that the Selden Acts were copied for a female owner, though this cannot be proven conclusively.  Nonetheless, ample evidence suggests that Anglo Saxon nuns included among their numbers scribes of high caliber.

      In the early eighth century, works written for these literate women begin to appear. The most notable is Aldhelm’s De Laudibus Virginitate, c. 705, which laid out an ambitious reading program for the nuns of Barking to whom it was addressed. As Michelle Brown dryly notes, “its complex literary style gives an indication of the standards of learning expected (whether or not they were achieved) of abbess Hildelith and the nuns of Barking, to whom it was addressed” (Brown [2001] 46). An early surviving copy of this work, now Royal MS 7. D. XXIV, f. 85v, shows a dry-point sketch of an epicene figure copying the text. Though usually described as an author sketch, the hair and facial structures are in fact also typical of portraits of holy virgins—the subject of Aldhelm’s text. Likewise, somewhere about the time Aldhelm was writing De Laudibus Virginitate, an ownership inscription was copied into a manuscript of Jerome’s Commentary on Ecclesiastes, now in Wurzburg. The inscription reads “Cuthsuuithae boec thaerae abbatissan,” “the book of Cutswitha the abbess,” perhaps in her own hand, with the word “abbess” repeated in a more “artistic” uncial, as if she is trying to design her official signature. Michelle Brown suggests that another passage in the manuscript written in a very amateur English hand may be one of Cutswitha’s nuns learning the script from her abbess (Brown [2001] 47-8) Bede reports that Anglo-Saxon princesses frequently traveled to continental convents to continue their educations before returning home to marry; thus, the convent served as a locus not only for producing books, but for allowing both religious and lay women access to a wide variety of texts and methods of book production.

     But by the time of King Alfred, English monasteries and their education were definitely on a downswing; Alfred thus ordered a massive campaign of manuscript copying to replace works destroyed by Viking incursions and to be accompanied by an educational program much like the one he himself had undertaken as a boy, when he memorized poems, learned psalms, prayers, and religious offices by heart, and pursued all kinds of reading (Keynes and Lapidge 74-75). He established monasteries and at least one convent, the Nunnaminster of St. Mary’s in Winchester, where his daughter Æthelgifu was installed as abbess on lands deeded to Alfred’s queen Ealhswith at the dawn of the tenth century.

     A group of manuscripts associated with the Nunnaminster have been identified by Malcolm Parkes as being copied by female scribes; they include the Book of Nunnaminster, the Trinity Isidore, the Parker Manuscript of the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, and the Junius Psalter. The Book of Nunnaminster, which originally came from Mercia, preserves forms of confession and absolution and prayers containing female grammatical forms, as well as the contemporary record of Ealhswith’s land donation for the minster (Parkes). This wide range of copying in a small, new women’s monastic foundation headed by Alfred’s daughter suggests that the Nunnaminster scribes were actively engaged in producing the kinds of books whose loss Alfred had so deplored, both for the use of the nuns in their own foundation and for distribution elsewhere. Pamela Robinson has furthered this research, attempting to identify some of the Nunnaminster scribes by name. If there is an “Alfredian revival” of learning in early ninth-century Wessex, then part of the credit must go to the Anglo-Saxon nuns who contributed to the accessibility of texts.

     Credit should also be given to a group of Mercian female scribes who produced a group of prayerbooks in the late eighth and early ninth centuries. These include the Harleian Prayerbook, the Royal Prayerbook, and the Book of Cerne (Brown, in Kay and Sylvester 51). Brown and Brooks both associate these manuscripts with the Abbess Cwenthryth, sister of St. Kenelm, one of the earliest abbesses of Minster-in-Thanet. Ealhswith, Alfred’s queen and co-founder of the Nunnaminster, was Mercian by birth; if she brought the Book of Nunnaminster to her new foundation, its transition from Kent to Winchester would be accounted for.

     The Royal Prayerbook is even more interesting, because it appears not only to have been executed for a female reader, but for a female healer; besides prayers and texts with feminine grammatical constructions, it contains prayers and charms associated with excessive bleeding, an unusually large number of female saints named in the litany, and other indications of gender-specific content tailoring. Only seven leaves of the Harleian prayerbook now survive; yet in this limited sample there are indications of female ownership in the distribution of saints in the litany and at least one prayer in female grammatical cases. These manuscripts, like the Nunnaminster manuscripts, required well-educated, sophisticated scribes to copy them accurately and to develop whole regiments of scripts and decoration with which to train successive generations of scribes—and these Anglo-Saxon nuns, like their Frankish contemporaries, were well-qualified for the job. Combining in equal parts devotion, intellect, and skill, they contributed significantly to the development and preservation of learning in a time when its survival was parlous at best. But by the second quarter of the tenth century, female scribes had all but disappeared from Anglo-Saxon England. Why did this happen, and what became of these artistic, well-trained women? I’ll speculate on that in the second part of this post.


Written by:  Dr. Jo Koster

SOURCES
Brown, Michelle. P. Anglo-Saxon Manuscripts. Toronto: U Toronto Press, 1991. Print.
—. "Female Book-Ownership and Production In Anglo-Saxon England: The Evidence of the Ninth-Century Prayerbooks." Lexis and Texts in Early English: Papers in Honour of Jane Roberts, ed. C. Kay and L. Sylvester. Amsterdam: Brepols, 2001:  45-68. Print.
Brown, Michelle P., ed. In the Beginning: Bibles Before the Year 1000. Washington DC: Freer Gallery, 2006.
Budny, Mildred. “The Early Medieval Textiles at Maaseik, Belgium.” Antiquaries Journal 65.2 (1985): 354-489.
Keynes, Simon, and Lapidge, Michael, Alfred the Great: Asser's Life of King Alfred & Other Contemporary Sources. Harmondsworth: Penguin, 1983. Print.
Levison, Wilhelm, ed. Vitae Sancti Bonifatii. Scriptores Rerum Germanicarum. Vol. 57. Hanover: Hannsche Buchhandlung, 1905. Print.
McKitterick, Rosamond. ‘Nuns’ Scriptoria in England and Francia in the Eighth Century.” Francia 19.1 (1992): 1-36. Web. 28 October 2010.
Parkes, M.B. “A Fragment of an Early Tenth-Century Manuscript and Its Significance.” Anglo-Saxon England 12 (1983): 129-140. Print.
Robinson, P. R.  “A Twelfth-Century Scriptrix from Nunnaminster.” Of The Making Of Books: Medieval Manuscripts, Their Scribes and Readers: Essays Presented to M. B. Parkes, ed. by P. R. Robinson and Rivkah Zim (Aldershot: Scolar Press, 1997), 73-93.



Saturday, 12 January 2013

Beyond Borders Welcomes Dr. Jo Koster!


It is Beyond Borders' great pleasure to welcome our first guest blogger, Dr. Jo Koster. Dr. Koster is a Professor of English and Coordinator of the Medieval Studies Minor at Winthrop University in South Carolina, where she teaches courses in medieval literature, medieval studies, and critical thinking.  She received her B.A. in English from the University of Pennsylvania and her M.A. and Ph.D in English from the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill; her doctoral research (conducted mostly in Oxford) on medieval prayer manuscripts was funded by the Tulsa Center for Women’s Studies. For the last three decades her research has focused on women’s literate practices in the Middle Ages and on manuscripts owned, commissioned, and created by women in the Middle Ages; she has published recently on subjects as varied as Margery Kempe, modern detective novels featuring medieval protagonists, and the utility of using ‘Weird Al’ Yankovic’s videos as a lens for helping contemporary students understand the generic complexities of The Wife of Bath’s Prologue and Tales. In her own defense, she protests that she is a trained paleographer and not an art historian, though this does not stop her from dabbling in art history (especially involving the book arts) when she’s allowed to.

Look for Dr. Koster's post this coming Monday, January 14th! 

~Beyond Borders

Thursday, 10 January 2013

Welcome Guest Bloggers!



Happy New Year fellow Medievalists! We would like to thank all of our readers so much for your support through our first six months on the net, and we are very much looking forward to the dialogues to come in 2013. To start off the New Year, Beyond Borders would like to welcome guest bloggers!  This month we welcome Dr. Jo Koster & Dr. Laura Dufresne of Winthrop University.  Please look for guest posts every Monday for the rest of the month.  We encourage anyone interested in guest blogging to contact at us at beyondborders.blogger@gmail.com. We appreciate all of your comments and inquiries thus far, and look forward to hearing more from our readers in the coming posts.
Happy New Year & Happy Blogging!

~Emily, Shandra, Sam, & Fabian

Thursday, 13 December 2012

On Ontology and the Medieval Manuscript


During this time of year I always evaluate my library, or its beginnings at least. I labouriously make a list of the books I have yet to obtain and yet another list of the books that I most likely will never have the privilege of acquiring. This year, in addition to my bibliographical wishes, I began to think about how scholars approach the evaluation process of a medieval manuscript. More importantly, a question arose that I had yet to consider: how should we as academics begin to understand what certain manuscripts might have meant during the medieval time period? I cannot claim to have the definitive answer to such a distinctly difficult query; however, I will suggest that an ontological evaluation of various manuscripts may begin to shed light upon a probable answer.

The medieval manuscript is a multivalent object. It embodies many attributes such as text, without which many histories may have been lost due to the evolving nature of orality, and a visual programme that is reminiscent of the artistic developments during its time of creation. Some examples of the uses of manuscripts were to mirror aspects of patron ideals, act as a vade mecum, represent regional socio-political and cultural currents and serve as a container for closely guarded magical formulae. With such a large repertoire of functional aspects, one must question the amount of ‘vitality’ some medieval manuscripts were thought to have held. According to Richard Kieckhefer’s monograph, Forbidden Rites: A Necromancer’s Manual of the Fifteenth Century, a manuscript (specifically a book of magic) not only contained rites, but also shared the numinous qualities of the rites with which it was inscribed.[1] Hence, upon the destruction of a necromantic, or demonic, manuscript ‘[t]he burning thus served as an exorcism; the very pages seemed quite literally infected by demons, who needed to be banished.’[2] Kieckhefer’s account of the supernatural power that the pages of a necromantic manuscript were thought to hold leads us to consider aspects of the manuscript culture during the Middle Ages and their theoretical underpinnings with respect to the ontological debate.

In Levi Bryant’s The Democracy of Objects, ontological realism is described as a thesis that is about the being of objects ‘whether or not we exist to represent them.’[3] Ontological realism serves as an explanation of the metaphysical position that manuscripts may have held. Moreover, the perspective of particular interest is the idea that the ‘being’ of an object is unshackled from human intervention, which is indicative of the potential efficacy a manuscript's components may contain as well as the manuscript's aptitude as an autonomous object. It supposes that although a human hand created a manuscript, the book holds the capacity to evolve due to the very essence of the contents it was created to house.

In consideration of this theory, the different components within a manuscript (text, illuminations, marginalia, etcetera) may in turn be independent of each other, yet serve a purpose of providing an understanding of the whole. For example, many manuscripts that were produced during the Middle Ages were for liturgical purposes and were thought to contain the Word, or essence, of God. Oftentimes, the illuminations within these books were used to underscore the content of the text, yet at the same time embellish known aspects of the religious oral culture. Irrespective of the creator’s original intention for the illumination, the fact that it was housed within an object that embodied the 'essence' of God redefined its functionality. The illuminations, along with the Word of God, became a representation of God on earth. Thus, it may be suggested that any illumination within the manuscript mirrored the intention of God instead of man. If this suggestion were to be true, what then can be said about manuscripts that are liturgical, or devotional (such as a book of hours), but contain aspects that may not have been considered godly?

The medieval manuscript, and its components, has been meticulously considered by academics. However, the manuscript as an embodiment of being should continuously be analysed with regard to how its autonomous elements have the propensity to redefine the creator's intention. Such a shift over time may also suggest a break from the hierarchical attributes assigned to a creation by its creator. 

~Shandra



[1] R. Kieckhefer, Forbidden Rites, Penn State University Press (1997), 4.
[2] Ibid, 5.
[3] Levi R. Bryant, The Democracy of Objects (Ann Arbor: Open Humanities Press, 2011), 18, accessed March 24, 2012, http://openhumanitiespress.org/democracy-of-objects.html.

Tuesday, 27 November 2012

Notre-Dame de Chartres: A Cosmological Reading


Notre-Dame de Chartres: A Cosmological Reading


Sacred imagery within a church is meant to serve as the bible for the illiterate, illustrating not only religious iconography, but the Medieval cosmological opinion. These depictions were universally understood in both the scholarly and non-academic communities. This analysis is a cosmological discussion on the characteristics of the Notre-Dame de Chartres West Rose window and Labyrinth, allowing for both a cultural and scientific explanation of each feature.

The West rose window depicts the second coming of Christ, with Christ the judge sitting in the centre of a quatrefoil or cross with His five bleeding wounds. Christ is encircled by three rings of twelve. Each of the encircling rings build upon the story of the second coming. The inner ring, in what Chartres historian Malcolm Miller calls the ‘tips’ of the elliptical forms, depicts ‘eight angels placed in pairs between the four apocalyptic animals, representing the four evangelists,’ conveniently placed in the four cardinal directions.[1] The larger circles within the ellipses are Christ’s twelve apostles who are helping Christ judge of the twelve tribes.[2] The outer most ring consist of several illustrations, including angels carrying the instruments of Christ’s Passion, angels blowing trumpets to announce Judgement Day, and six scenes of resurrected souls waiting to be judged.[3] The numerological qualities of the window enhance the iconographic illustrations put in place by the Chartres artists. The numbers in the pattern have adopted Christian meaning through the religious imagery displayed in each of the ‘petals’ of the rose, but cosmological interpretation must also be deliberated, especially when considering the numbers twelve and five. The numbers twelve and five are used to allude to the twelve apostles and Christ’s five wounds. The number twelve is representative of the months of the year, measured in astrological observations. Five is relatable to Aristotle’s five elements, including the impermeable aether. Considering the wounds of Christ and the elements as one in same is rather intriguing, perhaps making Christ the human representation of the world with a range of features (or elements) making Him a vision of perfection and balance.

Of the geometric forms, one of the most domineering shapes of the rose window is the star. This is vital because it is physical evidence of shared cosmological depiction between East and West, as the star is a common shape at locations like Dome of the Rock.[4] The pentacle is a commonly used star figure, representing ‘the Pythagorean symbol of healing, the Crucifixion, and Man, as drawn by Leonardo da Vinci.’[6] Regardless of the number of points on the star, the star is used a symbol of guidance in rose window design.[7] The star represents a beacon of light in the night sky, as was the case in the journey of the Magi in the story of Christ’s birth. The guidance of the stars was also essential in navigation in these early eras, thus representing the guiding of the heavens through stormy seas. The West rose window is conveniently placed over the floor labyrinth. The light from the star of the window may also be intended to light the visitor’s way through the labyrinth, which represents the journey of life. 

The labyrinth, like the window, also allows for multiple interpretations. The interpretation of the journey of life is the most prominent of the options, embracing the Christian journey to salvation. This idea is supported by the title of the pattern, called ‘la lieue’ or the ‘league,’ alluding to the length of the path.[5] The designation ‘the league’ allows for further cosmological meaning, referring to the path or orbit of a planet. Being that the labyrinth takes more of an elliptical shape verses a circular also hints to the idea of the actual elliptical travel of the planets.[6]  This quality makes the labyrinth more cosmological although it maintains its Christian elucidations.[7] The Chartres pattern represents the vernal equinox that predicts the date of Easter.[8] In celebration of the resurrection, early Christians would dance around the pattern.[9] They believed that Christ, before returning to earth, journeyed through the labyrinth to purgatory and hell.[10] Easter, calculated through astronomical events, again binds together the studies of science and religion. Additional scientific meaning is ascribed to the pattern when connecting the use of circles to Pythagorean teachings on the harmony of cosmological spheres.[11]

The Notre-Dame de Chartres’ rose windows and labyrinth represent the French dedication to Christianity and the journey to finding salvation. Their path was lit by the West rose window, featuring Christ as judge. Each visitor is watched as they face the twists and turns of the labyrinth that lies just beyond the gaze of Christ. The religious interpretation of these architectural features is complimented with the cosmological ideals of the era, tying together the natural occurrences of the earth to the power of God. The intertwining of religion and science allowed for a harmonious rule of the church and continuation of scientific inquiry in the thirteenth century. The great piety of the time perhaps overshadows any cosmological intent in the design, but what should be questioned is whether or not it was possible that the common man made scientific inferences upon his visit to the church. If these architectural features are the books of the illiterate, what exactly was the medieval man reading in his viewing of the rose window and labyrinth? As a 21st century viewer, I am open to both religious and scientific intentions, but what was envisioned by the Chartres artists and what was viewed by medieval visitors remains in question.

 ~Emily





[1] Miller, 92.
[2] Ibid.
[3] Ibid. Image: West Rose Window, 2012, Chartres Cathedral, World Heritage, accessed July 26, 2012, http://www.cathedrale-chartres.org.
[4] Oleg Grabar, The Dome of the Rock (Cambridge, MA: Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 2006), pg. 76. Image: Creswell’s Dome of the Rock floor plan. West Rose Window picture provided by: West Rose Window, 2012, Chartres Cathedral, World Heritage, accessed July 26, 2012, http://www.cathedrale-chartres.org. Geometric pattern added by the author. Do note that the geometric forms of the Chartres image are not fully accurate due to the angle of the photograph.
[5] Hermann Kern, Through the Labyrinth: Designs and Meanings over 5.000 Years (New York: Prestel, 2000), pg. 153.
[6] This idea was suggested in the Classical Greek era, but not confirmed until the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries by Brahe and Kepler. See Aughton, 85.
[7] Kern, 110.
[8] Ibid.
[9] Ibid.
[10] Ibid. See also Kern, 146.
[11] Ibid. Images: Left, Chartres Labyrinth, 2012, Chartres Cathedral, World Heritage, Chartres, http://www.cathedrale-chartres.org/. Right: Kern,