"Hey, Frank, I'm flying!" "No, Bob, we've been over this, it's a metaphor. You can't just let go of the..." CRASH. Moral of the story: only penguins truly fly.
Today's post is a going to start out somewhere quite different in subject than the Middle Ages, at first glance: the website for Humans of New York. For those of you who are not familiar with it, as I was before today, Brandon, the photographer-blogger of the site, has committed to taking the photos and recording the stories of complete strangers he meets on the streets of New York. It's been getting a lot of traffic recently, especially because of a post made regarding positive body images. There's no summarizing the brilliance of it, so I'll simply provide a link. Go. Look and think.
And if you haven't already, cast your net a little wider on that website, and think about what it says about humanity, kindness, cruelty, and the society we live in. I found I was convinced, as the photographer was, that streets of New York are a window onto exclusion, marginalization, loneliness, and poverty even in plain sight, in the midst of crowds, of North America's most important city. I found the portraits almost painful to read sometimes, but there was also a happiness, joy, wit, wisdom, and courage to be found in surprising places. It left me with a renewed appreciation for the paradoxical nature of our lives today, that such happiness and sadness can exist right next to one another, at the same time.
What struck me the most was the sense of loneliness in many of the stories; not only the homeless, or the buskers, but wealthier businessmen, working people, young and old. It's a loneliness that isn't momentary; and often, it isn't visible from a casual glance. Which got me thinking: how many of the people around us, here in Victoria, feel the same way? And that, as many things often do, ended in me thinking about Medieval society, which inspired me to write this post.
"Fyrkat. A mid-20th century
reconstruction of a Danish great hall and long houses in Hobro, Denmark." - source
Were people lonely in the Middle Ages? I suppose we can assume they were; but until the 11th century, even cities of over ten thousand people in Latin Christendom could be counted easily on your hands. The popular image is of halls of full of feasting, boasting warriors, welcomed by the generous king and courageous in their loyalty. When reading a text such as Beowulf, however, it's clear that this was not always the case. Even in a story which exemplifies this ideal relationship and community we can also see a response to suffering, especially loneliness. Just one example, from Liuzza's standard-at-UVic-until-last-year 2000 translation, page 86, lines 1071-1076:
"Hildeburgh, indeed, had no need to praise
the goof faith of the Jutes. Guiltless, she was
deprived of her dear ones in that shieldplay,
her sons and brothers -- sent forth to their fate,
dispatched by spears; she was a sad lady!"
Amidst the bloodshed and destruction of the conflict, it is Hildeburgh who bears the horror and loss after treachery, revenge, anger, and loyalty drive most of those close to her to their deaths. Even in its idealized heroism, Beowulf leaves behind a sense of melancholy, a doom whose only end is empty halls, greedy kings, and weeping mothers and wives. While terrible, this is not quite the loneliness that I perceive from HONY. Perhaps a closer example would that of Grendel, the creature excluded, ignored, feared, despised... cast out from society, but still linked in ancient and twisted ways with humanity. Grendel responds with jealousy and hatred; something true to all human experience, but especially among many marginalized communities throughout the world. Yet he is fundamentally an outsider to the community; many argue Beowulf's message is of unity against the dangers inside and outside the hall!
Check out this excellent painting of Beowulf's struggle by Lynd Ward, and many others like it at this website. Amazing collection of art centering on Beowulf. It's like all the awesome paintings you ever needed, all in one place.
Identity changes. Community changes, social structures become more specialized. On the fringes, of course, the scale of villages, the complexity of communities and technologies remained often relatively limited. Even to the present day, communities in the Outer Hebrides of Scotland remained deeply isolated, such as that in St. Kilda: (more info here)
And you can imagine that community was important HERE.
The Church, kingdoms, universities, towns, and guilds all begin to centralize power and undergo fundamental (or continue to undergo!) reforms. By the 13th century, the Middle Ages that we looked at in Monday's post, that of Beowulf and Anglo-Saxon Europe, have lost some features, altered some others, and gained a host of new institutions. We're in the "high" Middle Ages, the time of knights, and roses, and ladies; landholders and feudal relationships (if you're living in the Loire river valley in the 13th century, you might even be experiencing "Classical feudalism", though if Dr. Haskett ever caught me using that word outside of a jest, I'm certain he would follow through on his threat of anathema).
And even though one could argue that society is even more greatly socially stratified in the High Middle Ages than in the Early, at least some people seem to have so many more "options"; in trades, in universities, in guilds... after all, is the Renaissance not based in a flourishing of artisan culture and prestige, and Venice's early success on a highly socially mobile society? Well, more recent scholarly work paints a more complex vision of these societies; ones that on the surface seem to display social mobility and meritocracy, but that are bound by visible and invisible signs of class and place that seem alien to the smaller-scale relationships of Beowulf.
Next time this topic comes around, we'll continue to think about inclusion and exclusion in high Medieval society, but for the moment, here's a thought: if, even in the relatively larger scale, complex, and increasingly specialized society of the high Middle Ages, we discover the same senses of exclusion, isolation, and alienation inside or on the outskirts of very tight-knit and local communities, what does that imply for a city on the scale of, say, New York?
Victoria has crime rates and a homeless population well above the national average. What does that say about our communities here in B.C. in the year 2012, a thousand years after urbanization begins to gain ground again in Europe? What do works such as Beowulf or Le Morte d'Arthur tell us about how far we are today from the world they describe -- if at all?
- Josef
** Remember to come out to the MOVIE NIGHT on Tuesday from 5-7, for more game of Thrones madness! Also, if anyone is game for reviving the
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