to wake up, to shake up, to wake the sun

I accidentally deleted the last William Morris book in my to-reread list from my phone and never got around to sending it back.

I started Walter Scott's The Talisman, because it's one of his few novels set in the middle ages, but there's some racism that's hard to swallow. There is a major Kurdish character, a knight under Saladin, who is... friends? With our Norman Scottish protagonist. The portrayal is not unsympathetic. I think Scott is doing his best to be even-handed, but like Catholicism, Islam just seems factually wrong and evil etc etc to him, and its adherents who are good guys are unfortunately misled. It's... hard to read. In retrospect, I'm surprised by how much he didn't dislike Judaism, in comparison.

Also started The King of Elfland's Daughter by Lord Dunsany. I read this as a teenager but remembered nothing. The narrative voice is quaint and charming. It's not really gripping me though.

No progress in Le Morte d'Arthur (Malory) or The Idylls of the King (Tennyson). The latter is more readable, comparatively, but I just don't really like reading verse. Also I did make some progress in The Faerie Queene (Spenser), and one verse narrative at a time is plenty.

Speaking of verse narratives, I still haven't made any more progress in the Wilson translation of Seneca's plays. (But the translations aren't in verse!) I might just have to skip Oedipus. I hate him for some reason.

I guess now I should actually reread all of Murderbot again, since I can't remember all the details and the show is starting to air. That should be comparatively quick though! I have the last Katherine Addison waiting and haven't gotten around to picking it up.

With all these things that I'm feeling decidedly unenthused about, I instead read the whole part of Jordanes' ancient history of the Goths that deals with wars with Asian invaders and then the entirety of Hervor's/Heidrek's saga, including the ancient poem called The Battle of the Goths and the Huns. (This is the only surviving medieval saga that deals with Gothic tribes in mainland Europe, and Jordanes' is the only other ancient source with relevance to Morris's The Roots of the Mountains.) I had made all the posts about that book which I had in mind when reading it, but yesterday I found a link on Tumblr to these two great essays about the context, history, and implications of the racism of Tolkien orcs/goblins by James Mendez Hodes (he doesn't mention Morris/ROTM or the specific borrowing from Jordanes alleged in Seaman's introduction to ROTM, but these links in the chain are immaterial to the argument): Orcs, Britons, and the Martial Race Myth, Part I: A Species Built for Racial Terror. content warnings: racism, colonialism/imperialism, cultural conflation, sexism, sexual violence, anger & Orcs, Britons, and the Martial Race Myth, Part II: They're Not Human. These essays totally opened my eyes to a missing link in my understanding of the background of the racist portrayal of the Dusky Men - one I wouldn't have missed if I'd reread Said's Orientalism, which I probably should've. The gender aspect of the ROTM Huns is riffing on the extreme cultural openness and intermarriage habits of the Mongols, whose invasions were much later - 13th century, long after the christianization and settlement of the germanic tribes and the fall of the Roman empire. (More on the Mongols' real culture and the stereotypes in western culture surrounding them in his posts!) So that gives me something else to research. Maybe I actually will eventually form a coherent theory of what is going on with all the gender roles in this book!

"And, by my faith, he is a man of steel, as true and as pure, but as hard and as pitiless. You remember the Cock of Capperlaw, whom he hanged over his gate for a mere mistake—a poor yoke of oxen taken in Scotland, when he thought he was taking them in English land? I loved the Cock of Capperlaw; the Kerrs had not an honester man in their clan, and they have had men that might have been a pattern to the Border—men that would not have lifted under twenty cows at once, and would have held themselves dishonoured if they had taken a drift of sheep, or the like, but always managed their raids in full credit and honour."

What a fascinating look at 16th century Scottish border life. It's totally honorable to steal a large herd of cows from an English target, but the fewer you steal (presumably because of the relative poverty of their owner) the more morally questionable, so the most honorable lads are raiding large quantities of livestock from wealthy English landowners. Meanwhile, stealing any amount of livestock from another Scottish person is punishable by death.

Their stately offices—their pleasant gardens—the magnificent cloisters constructed for their recreation, were all dilapidated and ruinous; and some of the building materials had apparently been put into requisition by persons in the village and in the vicinity, who, formerly vassals of the Monastery, had not hesitated to appropriate to themselves a part of the spoils. Roland saw fragments of Gothic pillars richly carved, occupying the place of door-posts to the meanest huts; and here and there a mutilated statue, inverted or laid on its side, made the door-post, or threshold, of a wretched cow-house.

Mostly I'm just sad we don't have documentary photo evidence of this practice.

"My master has pushed off in the boat which they call the little Herod, (more shame to them for giving the name of a Christian to wood and iron,)[...]"

Old Keltie, the landlord, who had bestowed his name on a bridge in the neighbourhood of his quondam dwelling, received the carrier with his usual festive cordiality, and adjourned with him into the house, under pretence of important business, which, I believe, consisted in their emptying together a mutchkin stoup of usquebaugh.

Love to see whiskey in Gaelic.

“Peace, ye brawling hound!” said the wounded steward; “are dagger-stabs and dying men such rarities in Scotland, that you should cry as if the house were falling?”