Looking for Alaric Hall's academic website? It's at http://www.alarichall.org.uk.

Since he started as a postgraduate, Alaric has been taking pretty much all his academic notes electronically. It occurred to him that although they were written for personal use only, they might conceivably be useful to people searching the Internet for full references to texts, half-remembered quotations, or all sorts of other stuff. He's just dumped the material into a low-memory, largely unformatted shape (so italics and probably most special characters have been lost). Hopefully there's nothing here that's too libellous, or precious intellectual property of Alaric's own :-)*

Abdou, Angela, ‘Speech and Power in Old English Conversion Narratives’, Florilegium, 17 (2000), 195–212. Some irritating inaccuracies: ‘Based loosely on Felix’s Vita Sancti Guthlaci, the two related poems which are known as Guthlac A and Guthlac B demonstrate the way in which...’--B surely not basedloosely (204); ‘The use of heroic diction does suggest action, a war of words, but it is the devils, not Guthlac, who choose this particular battlefield’ (204)--rubbish. Brief emph on heroic diction (of which much more than in the Latin of course—204–5). Citing Cherniss 1972, 218. ‘The two main temptations in the poem exactly recapitulate two of the temptations of Christ: they ae Guthlac’s being lifted into the air, a temptation to exalt himself in pride, and his being taken down to the gates of hell, a temptation to despair’ (205). 206–7 kind of interesting thing about Guthlac rereading events—demons say ‘we’ll take you into the air to see bad stuff; narrator says he sees bad stuff; G says ‘I saw the bright light of heaven’ c. 487; ‘Guthlac’s rereadings enable him to endure otherwise unbearable situations’ (207). Devils manipulate language (ie they lifre): 208–9. But Glc himself can use commissives, expressives and declarations—but not directives or declarations ’ cos that’s Bartholemew’s job and God’s. Speech isn’t action unless it’s god’s. (207–10).

Abercromby, John, The Pre- and Proto-Historic Finns, Both Eastern and Western, with The Magic Songs, 2 vols (London: Nutt, 1898), II 356–57 (no. 215).

Abercromby, John, 'An Analysis of Certain Finnish Origins', Folklore, 3 (1892), 308-36, http://www.jstor.org/stable/1253087. 314-15 re riddles and synnyt.

Abernethy, George W., ‘The Germanic Metrical Charms’ (Diss. University of Wisconsin, 1983). [Bragg 1998 calls him Abernathy—check) Eds of OE charms as in Dobbie but omits 1 and 11 cos of space; also of OHG/early MHG charms but omits 2nd merseberg charm. 1–5 re silly previous assumptions re dating and utter difficulty. Typology, refs to paganism, language etc. all in these texts no use. 8–9 dismisses ‘substitution theory’ of emending out saints’ names in charms for pagan gods instead. Obviously a rubbish theory, but perhaps should be mentioned and so distinguished from reading of saints’ narratives as serving same social functions as elves—a substitution theory of a different sort. 5–11 discussion and dismissal of efforts to take charms as ‘pagan’ in any meaningful way—whooly a part of Xian culture. Worth citing together with 1–5 (or as cf. for dating), but probably superceded by Jolly. 11–15 metre. Nothing very incisive but points up range of variation, heavy use of rhyme and allit. mixtures esp. in OHG—sounds a bit like Chron poems. Drift into alliterative prose—whatever the distinction may be. with dw. metrical bit he gives as

Re 9 herbs charm, discussion and commentary 50–79; text 17–20, trans 21–23. incl 31–35 as numbered here (p. 18):

wyrm com snican toslat he nan.

ða genam woden. viiii. wuldortanas

sloh ðaþa næddran þæt heo on viiii . tofleah

þær geændade æppel ond attor

þæt heo næfre ne wolde on hus bugan +

Looks pretty well done. Wuldortanas 67–68 lists speculation and Page JBAA 3rd ser. 27 vs this; ‘There is no reason to believe that this passage refers to runes in any way; much simpler is to take the wuldortanas to be the nine herbs themselves, with which Woden metaphorically “strikes” the wyrm’ (68). Wið ðy section noted as parallel to Bartie 18–19, geblæd section being on 19.

her com ingangan. in spiderwiht

hæfde him his haman on handa cwæð þæt þu his hæncgest wære

lege þe his teage an sweoran ongunnan him of þæm lande liþan.

sona swa hy of þæm lande coman þa ongunnan him þa lipu[sic] acolian [note 15 p. 25: ‘hīðaliþau[u over a]colian’]

þa com ingangan deores sweostaro

þa geændade[actually macron on g and no following e, n. 17] heo. and aðas swor

ðæt næfre þis ðæm [n. 18 þæ[mcr æ], above line’] adlegan [n. 18 ‘adlegan, second a corrected from n; final –n added above line’] derian ne moste

ne [n. 19 ‘ne added above line’] þæm þe þis galdor begytan mihte.

oððe þe þis galdor ongalean cuþe.

[25] amen fiað

(ed. 24–25)

Trans as ‘against a dwarf’ (26). Commentary 79–93. Goes with fever interpretation of sickness in question (79–80).

Wið fær ed. 27–28. trans 29 and goes for ‘of if it were a shot of witches’ with no comment there. Commentary etc. 93–113. likes rheumatism (93–94); headache idea possible but doesn’t leap out (94); cf.able re severity that needs to be assumed and which precludes stitch interpretation. 94–95 lays into commentators assuming its paganness and even primitive pagannessa—useful survey of past scholarship. ‘There is no real obstacle to viewing E.4 [wið fær] as an overtly Chistian charm’ (95, cf. 95–96). Habit of scholars to separate into several charms 96–98). ‘In my view it does seem reasonable to view all of the lines of E.4 as a single charm intended to overcome a sharp pain, but it must be admitted that the structure and internal logic is not particularly clear’ (98)—this claim seems to have involved sticking neck out! NB feferfuige as spelling metathesis for feferfugie (100, citing prior authorities). NB problems with beræddan—usually ‘dispossess, deprive, betray’ (104). Goes with ‘they, screaming, sent spears’, ‘cos ‘the author of the charm does not otherwise separate closely related alements across the caesura, and the phrase “they screaming” explains nicely why they were hlude, as described in l. 1’ (105). Smiths 105–107; surveys the opions for and against their friendliness; ‘Finally, Doskow (PLL 12, p. 324) argued that taking the smith of l. 14 as friendly “raises many more questions than it answers. Why should the description in the first section of the attacking forces be interrupted by the introduction of an allied force?” Doskow’s reading is perhaps the most attractive on thematic and structural grounds, but given the terseness of the allusions to the smiths and the likelihood of textual corruption in the next line (see note below) it is not possible to dertermine with absolute certainty whether the smiths are to be seen as fabricators of weapons for defense against the demonic shots, or whether they are actually part of the problem which the charm seeks to remedy’ (107). Note on semantics of hægtessan 109 (preferring ‘sorceress’), but no comment on number! 110 alas parrots the usual 2ndry refs to folklore on elf-shot re ylfa gescot.

wæterælfadl ed. 39–40; trans 36, goes for ‘water-elf disease’ (36—NB out of order in thesis!), commentary 133–43. 133–35 on semantics of wæterælfadl; some folks think it’s the same as wæterseocness, wæterbolla, wæteradl, going with ‘dropsy’, others that it’s different. in commenatry note just says ‘A triple compound of wæter + ælf + adl, i.e., “water-elf disease” ’ (137).

Commentary on bee charm 143–57 re sigewif 155–57; ‘A hapax legomenon, apparently meaning “victory-woman”. I take it to refer to the queen bee. Comparisons with the valkyries of ON myth were inevitable’ (155), good survey on and down on the idea due to no ev.  Citable if this comes up, then.

Wen charm ed. 48, from facs of Royal MS 4A.XIV folio 106b (ed. numbers lines 1–13) (see Ker catalogue p. 320; trans 49; commentary etc. 167–: 177–78 on wenchichenne, seems to like the chicken idea—lack of pal. in modern chicken is the weird thing, not the OE pal. 179–81 re nihgan berhge which seems to have cuased all sorts of problems. Weird. Goes totally for nighan as from neah and I’m with him even if this demands different quality for <hg> than in berhge. ‘A so-far overlooked possibility is that berhge may here have its other common meaning “barrow, burial place, tomb” … rather than “hill, mountain”. The former would make good sense in context since the charm-user is attempting to kill the wen’ (181). Cf. vs. Scneider’\s reading which is heavy on Norse comparisons, ‘Schneider’s interpretation has nothing to recommend it, based as it is upon textual emedation, strained readings of key words, and upon the assumption that allusive pagan Gmc. imagery could exist in a charm which shows every sign of having been composed late in the OE period. I understand the charm as follows … ll. 1–5 are an attempt to banish the wen to þan nihgan berhge (berhge perhaps having the meaning “burial mound”, an appropriate place for the wen to go to die), where his brother wen has already been sent. The brother will lay a leaf at the wen’s head, either as a cure for the wen from the charm-user’s magic, or as a burial shroud. There is a sense break at l. 56, and the magician applies three talismanic articles, a wolf’s foot, an eagle’s feather, and an eagle’s claw to the webm asserting that the wen will shrink beneath them’ (176). 182–83 re fot uolmes; ‘There is no real choice but to follow Birch et al. and take uolmes as a mistake of some kind, probably for wolves’ (183).

wenne wenne wenchichenne [note 1: ‘wenchic,henne]

her ne scealt þu timbrien [note 2: timb,rien] ne nenne tun habben

ac þu scealt north [note 3: ‘nort,h] eonene to þan nihga[a overdotted]n berhge

þer þu havest armig enne broþer

he þe sceal legge leaf et heafde

under [note 6 ‘under, d corrected from o?’] fot uolmes under veþer earnes

under earnes clea á þu geweornie

clinge þu alswa col on heorþe

scring þu alswa[overdotted a] sce[overdotted e]sne a wage[overdotted e].

and worne alswa[overdotted a] weter on anbre[?anþre—þ hard to read in this part of the microfilm; collate with other eds].

swa litel þu gewurþe alswa linsetcorn

and miccli lesse alswa anes handwurmes hupeban

and alswa litel þu gewurþe þet þu nawiht gewurþe.

German texts 185ff.

1st Merseburg charm, based on facs of Domstiftsbibliothek Merseburg Cod. 136, Bl. 85r (ed. p. 186):

Eiris sazun idisi sazun hera duo der

suma hapt heptidun suma heri lezidun

suma clubodun umbi cuoniowidi

insprinc haptbandun invar vigandun. H.

Trans 187:

Once women sat, then the high ones sat there. Some fastened shackles, some hindered an army, some picked at bonds. Escape (your) bonds. Flee (your) enemies.

Commentary 218–44; ‘Complex problems surround nearly every word of these four enigmatic lines’ (218). 227–29 re isisi; down on connection with dís and even more so on connection with valkyries. 2nd half-line gets commentary 229–36! But probably most of these dealings with mad emendors/etymologists etc.

2 charms for horses ed and trans 188–91. Clearly an issue in OHG soc. like AS. Contra vermes pecus edentes 192-3 ed. and trans. Worms again as in OE. And NB:

High German Worm Charm, based on facs of Clm. 18524, 2, fol. 203b, ed. 194:

Pro Nessia:

Gang uz nesso. mit niun nessinchilineon

uz fonna marge. in deo adra vonna den adrun in daz fleisk.

fonna demu fleiske. in daz fel. fonna demo velle. in diz tulli.

Ter Pater Norst. Similit.

[can’t be arsed with textual notes here or for other OHG texts]

Trans 195:

Pro Nessia

Go out worm, with nine little worms. Out from the marrow into the veins (?); from the veins into the flesh; from the flesh onto the skin; from the skin onto this arrow (?). Ter Pater Noster. Similit.

Old Saxon Worm Charm based on facs of Cod. 751, Vienna, folio 188v (ed. p. 196):

Contra Vermes

Gang. ût nesso. mid nigun. nessiklinon.

ut fana them. marge. an that. ben. fan themo. bene. an that. flesg

ut fan themo. flesgke. an this hud. ut fan thera. hud. an thesa strala.

drohtin werthe so.tr

Trans 197:

Contra Vermes

Go out worm, with nine little worms. Out from the marrow onto the bone; from the bone into the flesh; out from the flesh onto the skin; out from the skin onto this arrow. Lord, make it so.

Second Strassburg Blood Charm, based on Jacob Grimm, Kleinere Schriften, II, p. 29 (ed. 200):

Tumbo saz in berke mit tumbemo kint de narme

tumb heiz ter berch tumb heiz taz kint

ter heilego Tumbo versegene tiusa wunda

Ad strigendum sanguinem

trans 201:

Dumbo sat in the mountain with a dumb child in his arms. The mountain was called “dumb”. The child was called “dumb”. May the holy Dumbo bless this wound.

Ad strigendum sanguinem

380–407 lingustic/textual/metrical disucssion of ljóðatal; ed. 408–12; trans 413–15; commentary etc. 416–78.

Abram, Christopher, Myths of the Pagan North (London: Continuum, 2011)

Abram, Christopher, 'Hel in early Norse poetry', ''Viking and Medieval Scandinavia'', 2 (2006), 1-29.

Abram, Christopher, Evergreen Ash: Ecology and Catastrophe in Old Norse Myth and Literature (Charlottesville: University of Virginia Press, 2019), {{ISBN|9780813942278}}. ''The five features of Old Norse-Icelandic literary culture--its roots in a non-Christian belief system and its expression through myth, the absence of Nature from its worldview, its animism, the weird (super)realism of its representational literature, and its origins in a natureculture that has always lived under the shadow of ecological catastrophe--make ecocriticism particularly important to Old Norse studies, and Old Norse particularly relevant to the ecocritical project as a whole.'

Acker, Paul, Revising Oral Theory: Formulaic Composition in Old English and Old Icelandic Verse, Garland Studies in Medieval Literature, 16/Garland Reference Library of the Humanities, 2104 (New York: Garland, 1998).

Acker, Paul, ‘Dwarf-Lore in Alvíssmál’, in The Poetic Edda: Essays on Old Norse Mythology, ed. by Paul Acker and Carolyne Larrington (New York: Routledge, 2002), pp. 215-227. ‘Examining this poem as a source of dwarf-lore, the first thing one may notice about this particular dwarf is that he is interested in sex, or the prospect of it’ (215). This isn’t normal in ON (215-16). ‘But we must consider whence that image of dwarves derives. Probably our most recurrent image of dwarves in Old Norse literature is to be found in the late fornaldarsögur or legendary-heroic sagas’ where dwarves are ‘elusive and reluctant donors’ of swords and things (216). ‘From such a motif and its prevalence we can easily see how Motz would deduce an underground smith figure as the underlying archetype for all dwarves. But we need to consider this motif structurally in its narrative context. The dwarves are reluctant donors and to provide a suitable element of conflict or challenge, it is expedient that they be difficult of access, unsociable if you will. Not only are their sex lives irrelevant, but any contact with the outside world is to be downplayed’ (216). And contrast s²rla þáttr (216-17). ‘Here we see that the rules can change for the female quester. When Freyja desires something from a dwarf, she does not aggressively interpose her body: she allows the dwarves access to her body; she uses sex as a weapon. And the dwarves must be sociable, oversexed even, if the narrative function is to proceed’ (216). But it’s Alvíss on the offensive in Alvml: ‘While Alvíss’s actions may seem aberrant for a dwarf, they are very much in keeping with actions undertaken by giants in other myths’ (217). Narrative function of this 217-18. NBs that unlike Óðinn in wisdom contests, Þórr doesn’t actually need to know any answers to succeed here (218). Dvalinn as ‘delayed’, i.e. like Alvíss is (219). Circumstantial ev. towards dwarves turning to stone in the sun but none direct (218-19). But doesn’t fit Reginn or dwarves who make the mead of poetry (219). As the only dwarves who are known to have been delayed in old stuff, Dvalinn=Alvíss? (220).

Acker, Paul, ‘Horror and the Maternal in Beowulf’, PMLA, 121 (2006), 702–16. Stable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/25486349.

Ackerman, Robert W. and Roger Dahood (ed. and trans.), Ancrene Riwle: Introduction and Part I, Medieval and Renaissance Texts and Studies, 31 (Binghamton, N.Y., 1984). Consensus for composition in English with translation into French and Latin. Earliest MS Cleopatra C.VI. 1225×30, not a great copy; then Corpus Christi 402 close to it in date. Late Latin anachorita (eccles. Gk. άναχωρητής ‘one who retires from the world’).

Adams, J. N., and Marilyn Deegan, ‘Bald’s Leechbook and the Physica Plinii’, Anglo-Saxon England, 21 (1992), 87–14. Physica Plinii long-known source for Leechbook; this analyses it. Phys C5/6 compilation from Medicina Plinii from Pliny the Elder’s Naturalis Historia xx-xxxii (89). Seems mainly concerned with Leechbook’s relevance to textual history of Phys. Yay. Also seems to have Leechbook using Medicina, tho’ I don’t see at a glance where this fits in. 113-14 list of corresponding chapters which might be useful.

Adams, J. N., ‘British Latin: The Text, Interpetation and Language of the Bath Curse Tablets’, Britannia, 23 (1992), 1–26. In texts folder.

Adams, J. N., ‘ “Romanitas” and the Latin Language’, Classical Quarterly, 53.1 (2003), 184–205. Handy survey of Roman (mainly C1 BC) attitudes to languages, including Greek, dialects of Latin from outside Rome, etc. Including some juicy material appearently covered at more length in the bilingualism book on Gaulish pottery inscriptions with potters living linguistic double lives.

J. N. Adams, Bilingualism and the Latin Language (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2002)

Adamska, Anna, ‘The Study of Medieval Literacy: Old Sources, New Ideas’, in The Development of Literate Mentalities in East Central Europe, ed. by Anna Adamska and Marco Mostert, Utrecht Studies in Medieval Literacy, 9 (Turnhout: Brepols, 2004), pp. 13–47. ‘In 1963 Jack Goody and Ian Watt published a classical [sic] article in which they concluded that alphabetical writing had been a determining force in the development of European culture and democracy. They argued that the ideas of social progress, including the democratisation [19] of governmental rule, and also the secularisation of mind, were absolutely impossible in societies which communicated only orally. According to Goody and Watt, oral societies are not able to develop a critical approach to information; they are also unable to select information, to distinguish between the present and past in the same way that literates do, etc. Theirs is a world without history’ (18–19), citing Goody and Watt 1963; ‘In his later works, Goody went even further, concluding that all intellectual revolutions in European history resulted from new instruments of social communication; the most important of these was writing’ (19) citing Goody 1986. ‘Nowadays, most scholars do no longer agree [sic] with Goody’s theory. We had to dwell on it however, because it inspired many historians. This was understandable, for, if it is true that the introduction of writing results in a “reorganisation” of the human mind and the ways mankind thinks, then several phenomena of social life which came into being the [sic] Middle Ages might be explained by the growth of access to written communication. However, attractive though the theory is, it has been proven to be a simplification. There is also another negative aspect, i.e. the theory’s unconscious valorisation: the cultural sustem, based on writing, is “progressive” and “positive”, whereas oral cultures are summarily dismissed as “primitive” or retarded. This valorisation may be the consequence of the old paradigm of the superiority of writing over orality, dating from the Age of Enlightenment, when social progress was associated with alphabetization’ (19). Ong broadly follows suit, with much emph on printing (20). Clanch as revolutionising this by showing the non-literate modes of communication existed and came naturally and had to be replaced slowly and pieceal by literate practices (20–21). ‘Sociologists, and even more anthropologists, seem to have no real respect for the limitations to which times and space subject human societies. Quite often they collect convenient examples to bolter an a priori hypothesis. In doing so, they nonchalantly break through traditional chronological boundaries. In many sociological studies of literacy, the real boundary is not that between the Middle Ages and Modern Times, but that between the European Ancien Régime and the “industrial” era of the nineteenth century [er, dunno where this is coming from—no refs]. Sometimes, however, an approach which at first sight seems a-historical [sic] may help to break down historical stereotypes. Thus, the study of the material features of books, irrespective of the time they were produced, has inspired the reflection that quite possibly the passage from roll to codex was as important for the history of reading, as the “revolution of print” .’ (21). 21–23 applauds slow rise of other kinds of communication in scholarship, like gestures, colours, smells and rels between text and illuminations in MSS. ‘Because of their repetition, oral cultures have been judged by literate Western scholars as primitive, retarded or barbarian. // We can easily understand what happens when writing s introduced into an oral society. Messages may now be ‘cut off’ from the personal relationship between “sender” and “receiver”; with writing, the supplementary non-verbal message disappears. We may therefore think that written texts make information more “objective”, independent from the here and now, and easier to retrieve (and change!) whenever this is deemed appropriate. These principal consequences of the introduction of writing are at the basis of the eighteenth-century paradigm of literacy’s superiority over orality’ (28). ‘A second important change in the attitude of medieval scholars is that they are finally able to appreciate the efficiency of oral communication, and that—in some spheres of social life—oral modes existed until the end of the Middle Ages and beyond’ shock horror! Surely not?! Estonian cabinet meetings now purely in chat-rooms but hardly everywhere else; frankly bizarre but telling, despite the laudable critique of modernist assumptions generally in this piece (29). maybe the necessity of citing sources, hitherto necessarily written, which automatically deprivileges conference papers, pub conversatons, or even indeed oral informants in professionally conducted oral history research, has blinded us to the fact that journalists routinely rely on oral sources, oral debate has real effects on law (justice and legislation), board meetings etc.

Adler, Melissa, 'Wikipedia and the Myth of Universality', Nordisk Tidsskrift for Informationsvidenskab og Kulturformidling, 5.1 (2016), 9-13. http://ntik.dk/2016/Nr1/Adler.pdf

*Adolfsson, G. and I. Lundström, Den starka kvinnan: från völva till häxa, Museiarkeologi, 6 (Stockholm: Statens Historiska MuseumXXXXX, 1997)

Aðalheiður Guðmundsdóttir (ed.), Úlfhams saga, Stofnun Árna Magnússonar á Íslandi, rit, 53 (Reykjavík: Stofnun Árna Magnússonar, 2001)

Strengleikar, ed. by Aðalheiður Guðmundsdóttir, Íslensk rit, 14 (Reykjavík: Bókmenntafræðistofnun Háskóla Íslands, 2006)

Aðalheiður Guðmundsdóttir, 'The Werewolf in Medieval Icelandic Literature', JEGP: Journal of English and Germanic Philology, XXXXX (2007), 277--303; https://s3.amazonaws.com/academia.edu.documents/32002629/The_Werewolf.pdf?AWSAccessKeyId=AKIAIWOWYYGZ2Y53UL3A&Expires=1512466393&Signature=EIXn83%2FzLK8pas9xiasH2c2fEoE%3D&response-content-disposition=inline%3B%20filename%3DThe_Werewolf_in_Medieval_Icelandic_Liter.pdf.

Ævar Örn Jósepsson, Önnur líf (Reykjavík: Uppheimar, 2010)

Aidi, Hisham, 'The Interference of al-Andalus: Spain, Islam, and the West', Social Text, 24 (2006), 67-88; doi: 10.1215/01642472-24-2_87-67; https://www.academia.edu/2917059/The_Interference_of_Al-Andalus_Spain_Islam_and_the_West. 'In 1986 Spain joined the EU and in effect became the gatekeeper of Europe, restricting the entry of immigrans from Africa into the EU labor market ... Regional leaders and figures across the political spectrum supported entering the EU, which was expected to help solidify a coherent national identity. The process would, however, entail a political and cultural distancing from North Africa, though, simultaneously, Spain's proximity to Islam would help it gain influence in [75] the EU. Spanish leaders portrayed Spain as Europe's defender---the West's "security cordon"---against third world masses, and in effect the country went overnight from Europe's outsider to insider, by selling itself as the bulwark against Europe's real outsider, Islam. As Helen Graham and Antonio Sanchez explain, "So Spain, in spite of its own long and painful history of underdevelopment, economic emigration, and otherness, far from recognizing a commonality and attempting to integrate the experience of the marginalized into its own self-proclaimedly pluralistic culture, has instead assumed the stance of "First World" Europe. It is almost as if constructing and adopting the same 'others' or outgroups as the rest were considered the hallmark of Spain's membership of the [European] 'club'." ' (pp. 74-75, citing Helen Graham and Antonio Sanchez, 'The Politics of 1992', in Spanish Cultural Studies: An Introduction, ed. by Jo Labanyi and Helen Graham (New York: Oxford University Press, 1992), 412).

Aitken, A. J., The Older Scots Vowels: A History of the Stressed Vowels of Older Scots from the Beginnings to the Eighteenth Century, ed.by Caroline Macafee, The Scottish Text Society, 5th ser., 1 (n.p.: Scottish Text Society, 2002). 116–17 brief use of English dramatists’ representations—pass on to Judith?

Albano, Robert A., ‘The Role of Women in Anglo-Saxon Culture: Hildeburh in Beowulf and a Curious Counterpart in the Volsunga saga’, English Language Notes, 32 (1994), 1–10. Pants. Basically says hah! Hildeburg never liked Finn and like Signý was waiting to bump him off the whole time! Or somesuch. Which would be fine if he’d done it at all well.

Alda Sigmundsdóttir, Living Inside the Meltdown ([n.p.]: Enska textasmiðjan, 2010). 44-45 policeman muses on how good it is Iceland's never had an army, wars, etc.--maybe that's one reason why novellists need to look elsewhere for their violent imagery? 'it has never become ingrained into the mindset of the Icelandic people that the use of force is some kind of a viable solution. I think most people do not realize the immense value of this' (45)--interesting. 'But of course, it is not all bad. The upside of the kreppa is that we finally have a left-wing government and a new awakening and awareness of what really matters in life. In the pre-kreppa years I often felt disgust at the rampant consumerism and greed. I felt completely out of place in that society. Now people seem to be returning to a set of real values. Things are moving more slowly and people have time to knit, spend time with their children and family. That is the positive aspect of this crisis, and it was about time' (55). 'Something like this wouldn’t even happen in the worst banana republic. This country is filled with criminals who would have been assassinated if they’d lived in an African country. It’s that simple. This would never have been tolerated' (78). Africa/Eastern Bloc (search this term for ref) as Others used as a stick to beat Icelanders with. 'If you steal a lot, people look at you in awe. If you steal a little, you go to jail' (80). 'I remember the day Geir Haarde gave his God Bless Iceland speech and a woman came in the shop and she was so afraid. I didn’t even know he was going to make the speech, so I hadn’t heard it. I remember my heart started racing and I just thought: My God, what is happening? It felt a bit like the terrorist attacks on New York, when everyone just stood there, so powerless, unable to comprehend the scope of it' (84). Likewise, from a different commentator, 'It really felt like Iceland had been attacked. That was the prevalent feeling everywhere and that was also the mood among our clients' (95).

Alda Sigmundsdóttir, Unravelled: A Novel about a Meltdown ([n.p.]: [n. pub.], 2013). p. 13: 'There was a house. On the West Fjords, harboring many of her best childhood memories. Closing her eyes she could hear the whisper of happy voices on the breeze – now, calling. It was a house that her grandparents had owned, that held a part of her within its walls, a place of refuge. It had been there since she was small, not always visible, but permanent nonetheless.' Usual appeal to grandparents' generation as authentically Icelandic golden age.' Pg. 17: 'Years later, after Egill had become a successful businessman in his own right, he had bought the house back.' Jesus, everyone's doing it. And it goes on at some length about the place. pp. 63-64: 'the banks had experienced astronomical growth, it was true, but that was all down to the Icelanders’ intrepid behavior in all things business, their quick responses, absence of bureaucracy and willingness to take risks. The Viking spirit. The “outvasion” as it was called in Iceland – being done in reverse now, the opposite of “invasion”. And anyway, they claimed, the nay-sayers were just jealous, especially the Danes, who could not stand to see their former colony come in and buy up their own treasured assets, like the Hotel Anglaterre and Magasin du Nord, the famous department store that had graced the Kongens Nytorv square in Copenhagen for over a century. Or the British, who were losing most of their treasured high street shops to foreign interests – and Icelandic interests, at that. // No one listening could be in any doubt that Iceland was on its way to conquering the world. The first man protested weakly – these takeovers were mostly leveraged, he said, done on borrowed capital, and eventually the time would come when the “outvasion Vikings” would have to pay. He was quickly silenced by the host, who announced it was time for some music.' pp. 76 ff. 9/11. Damien moves straight to the conclusion that it's probably Islamic extremism too. pg. 81: 'Frida gazed out of the window at the passing landscape and was suddenly gripped by nationalistic fervor. She loved this country with all her heart. Its spectacular beauty, the down-to-earth people, the traditions, the stories and legends, the raw landscapes, the magnetism. Now that she was back … she never wanted to leave again. Never': interesting bluntness re nationalism, albeit of a piece with the slightly lumpen writing. p. 167: 'Those who fervently wished for change were fearful that all the force had gone out of the protests – Icelanders had a habit of reacting fiercely to injustice but soon sinking back into the lethargic serfdom that had been conditioned into the nation’s soul during centuries of colonial rule and oppression. They despaired that the New Iceland for which they so yearned would ever materialize, afraid that the Icelandic proletariat would simply shuffle onwards with a servile air, snot dripping from their noses, passively submitting to the ruling elite. As ever.' 9/11 present as implicit parallel to kreppa--cf. Alda's other kreppa book where this is explicit 94-95 Iceland as interconnected with rest of world: globalisation and related anxieties. 96 Iceland as oligarchy, also 140; 129 Russian mafia framed in similar terms. 105 bankers on cocaine. 136-37 UK anti-terrorism law being abused in Iceland (and later) class, e.g. 126-27. Icelandic egalitarianism and its breakdown.

Aldhouse-Green, Miranda J., ‘Pagan Celtic Religion and Early Celtic Myth: Connections or Coincidence?’, in An Snaidhm Ceilteach: Gnìomharran 10mh Comhdhail Eadar-Nàiseanta na Ceiltis, Imleadhar a h-Aon Cànain, Litreachas, Eachdraidh, Cultar/Celtic Connections: Proceedings of the Tenth International Congress of Celtic Studies, Volument One, Language, Literature, History, Culture, ed. by Ronald Black, William Gillies and Roibeard Ó Maolalaigh (East Linton: Tuckwell, 1999), pp. 82–90. Points unexcitingly to a few likely continuities.

Alda Björk Valdimarsdóttir and Guðni Elísson, ` “Og eftir sitjum við með sektarkennd í brjósti”: Hallgrímur Helgason og íslenska efnahagshrunið', Ritið: Tímarit Hugvísindastofnunar Háskóla Íslands, 12.2 (2012), 169--97.

Alessio, Dominic, and Anna Lísa Jóhannsdóttir, 'Geysers and "Girls": Gender, Power and Colonialism in Icelandic Tourist Imagery', European Journal of Women's Studies, 18 (2011), 35--50; DOI: 10.1177/1350506810386430. 37 lightweight but handy survey of growth of tourism industry and international profile of Iceland. 38-39 covers the promotional activities of Icelandair/the Icelandic Tourist Board, focusing on Bláa lónið, norðurljós and geysers. 'There was, however, a burgeoning alternative to Iceland’s nature-loving, clean, green and wholesome image. A newer image of all-night wild drinking and dancing emerged at the turn of the new millennium, summed up by the epithet ‘Global Party Capital’. Unlike the natural image of Iceland this more recent development focused primarily on younger persons, in particular men, who in 2005 made up just under 55 percent of visitors. 9 So internationally prominent did this new urban party image become that the country’s nightlife was given as the fifth most popular reason for visiting, after nature, swimming, shopping and day excursions, and before museums, hiking, glacier trips, horse riding and whale watching. 10 Most controversially, however, of central significance in this new image was the promiscuous ‘supermodel’ female. Asked why he had come to vacation in Iceland in 2001, one 27-year-old interviewee for Time magazine responded, ‘Icelandic girls are just gorgeous. . . . They enjoy sex and don’t believe in marriage’ (Sancton, 2001: 73)' (39). 39--41 a few prominent international media images of Iceland as having promiscuous women. 41--42 topos of neglect re gender in tourism studies. 'The particularly ironic twist in this tale of North Atlantic beauty queens in a country now sometimes described as the ‘Bangkok of the North’ is the effect this stereotype has on Iceland’s alternative image as one of the supposedly most egalitarian nation-states in the world'--that's a new one on me! (42). 42--44 gender equality in Iceland; 'In hindsight the decision by the Women’s Alliance proved premature, for a number of commentators have noted that Iceland’s image is not now as egalitarian or progressive as many believe, especially when compared to its nearby Nordic neighbours. Thoroddur Bjarnason and Andrea Hjálmsdóttir (2008) have remarked that gender inequalities not only continue to exist but that ‘egalitarian attitudes among youth have declined in recent years’. Similarly, Raaum’s study on gender balances in Nordic parliaments has noted that ‘The Icelandic profile is the least gender equal in the Nordic region’ ' (43). 44--46 sex tourism by people from the global north to the global south as reflecting ongoing colonial power relationships. 'Where the present study becomes intriguing is the realization that the sexual relationships, although still female-focused, are not necessarily only colonial or asymmetrical. In Iceland’s case western male tourists are not going from a rich North to a poor South, but instead from First World nations to a country rated in 2008 as being at the top of the UN’s human development index. Such an occurrence seems to imply, therefore, that sex tourism is as much about gender and patriarchy as it is about colonialism and ‘race’, although the white/blonde imagery so prevalent in much of this discourse does point to the continuing existence of a racialized stereotype, albeit this time a northern Icelandic/Scandinavian one instead of the more familiar Third/Developing World images' (45).

‘A Letter to the King on the Irish Church Bill’, Blackwood’s, 33 (May 1833), 723–36. http://books.google.com/books?id=ibkCAAAAIAAJ. 'America is governed without an Established Church. But are we to compare the ancient and massive fabric of the British government with the fluctuating and fugitive shelter under which American legislation thrust its head? or the prescriptive majesty of our national worship with the rambling sectarianism of religion in a country where the pulpit is only the more foul and furious conduit of every absurdity of the brain, or paroxysm of the passions; the land of camp-meetings and convulsionnaires, of corruption under the name of conversion, and of political raving under the name of Scriptural illumination? We might as well compare the forest wigwam with the palace, or its tenant with the sages and statesmen of Europe' (725). Mention of Empire same page, col. 2--doesn't seem significant tho'. 'This faction began with Ireland. There they found the soil prepared by a giddy Government, and a profligate superstition; they sowed the seeds of bloodshed, and left them to the natural care of those sure influences. The crop has duly followed; and Ireland, at this hour, presents a scene of misgovernment and misery, unequalled in the globe. The sanguinary despotism of Turkey has nothing like it; the barbarism of Russia is civilized to it. The roving Arabs exhibit a more reverent respect for life and property. The sweller in an Indian forest, or a Tartar wilderness, is safer in his house, than the Irish landlord, living under the safeguard of the British laws; and even fortified within a circle of British bayonets. That faction has been imported among us' (726). 727-30 on the rights and, more, the wrongs of Henry VIII's reformation--state intervening in Church is dodgy. 729 likewise on the evils of French revolution. 731- gets OT about it and then there's more on France. 734 'The state of the Irish Church forms one of the most curious fragments of ecclesiastical history in later times' and then we get stuff about that. What helpful chaps those Irish ecclesiastics have been. 'But the orators tell us of "bloated bishops" and luxurious clergymen. If men, unsuited to their functions, are suffered to possess the high stations of the Church, the patronage of the bishops is in the hands of the Crown; let the next choice be more carefully looked to; let me of virtue and learning be appointed, and the evil is at an end. But are we to be told that Protestantism ought to be reduced in Ireland, on account of the Popish majority. This is the great argument for cashiering the Irish clergy! This, which should be the great argument for increasing their numbers, for increasing their means, for protecting their efforts to spread the Gospel! The country is overrun with superstition, therefore extinguish knowledge;--it is weighed down with barbarian prejudices against the government, constitution, and religion of England, therefore cease from all attempts to lighten the yoke. The land is dark, therefore extinguish the light in your hand. Or, are we to be told, that the religion of the majority should be submitted to, whatever it may be? Then let us pronounce that all apptempts to convert the heathen are criminal,--that we should not de[736]sire to plant Christianity in Hindostan, while we are outnumbered by the millions of Mussulmans and idolaters,--that we should not send the Bible to the African or the South Sea islander. On this principle, Europe should have been left to this hour worshipping Thor and Woden. On this absurd and criminal principle, Christianity should never have stepped beyond the boundaries of Palestine' (735-36). Whew, pretty shrill. But clearly too much of a an effort to be comprehensive to be very meaningful re Africa and Woden etc. Interesting that it's 'Thor and Woden' again though.

Alfano, Christine, ‘The Issue of Feminine Monstrosity: A Reevaluation of Grendel’s Mother’, Comitatus, 23 (1992), 1–16. App. reckons aglæcwif is ‘warrior-woman’ like skjöldmær—sounds fair enough off hand (Åström 1999). ‘Most Beowulf translators, motivated by contemporary biases rather than articstic impulse, produce an exaggerated version of the original ides, aglæcwif. Grendel’s mother disrupts gender conventions; to the Anglo-Saxons, this made her atol, “terrible” (line 1332), but to contemporary translators, it makes her “monstrous”. Stripping Grendel’s mother of humanity, translators transform an avenging mother into a bloodthirsty monster’ (2). Other e.g.s (good ones too) 2–3. 4–6 re aglæcwif vs. ‘monster woman’, pro ‘warrior woman’, cf. Mearns. Not so convincing on gæst as short vowelled tho’ the idea may work (6–7). Ouch, she’s half-baked on her OE grammar. Lots of foolish errors. Takes wyrgen as ‘accursed one’ not wolfy one (7), hmm… (Doesn’t seem to know ON vargr, but maybe this is a good thing) (7). Some cits for wulf as warrior (tho’ never, I note from Klaeber, in Bwf) (8). So she’s not actually a wylf in briumwylf (7–8). Fair enough. Overstated and flawed but useful ref even so for showing biases in translators, lexicographers and critics.

Álfhildur E. Þorsteinsdóttir, 'Krepputal. Myndlíkingar í dagblöðum á krepputímum' (unpublished BA thesis, University of Iceland, 2009), http://skemman.is/handle/1946/3625.

Ali, Daud, `The Idea of the Medieval in the Writing of South Asian History: Contexts, Methods and Politics', Social History, 39 (2014), 382–407. http://dx.doi.org/10.1080/03071022.2014.942521. 'Though introduced to India during the colonial encounter, the idea of the medieval, and the periodization upon which it rests, quickly became essential chronological attributes of the nation and the presupposition of its sovereignty' (382).

*Alkemade, M., ‘A History of Vendel Period Archaeology: Observations on the Relationship between Written Sources and Archaeological Interpretations’, in Images of the Past: Studies on Ancient Sources in Northwestern Europe, ed. by N. Roymans and F. Theuws (Amsterdam, 1991), pp. 267–97.

Allaby, Michael (ed.), The Concise Oxford Dictionary of Ecology (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1994). s.v. fairy ring: ‘A circle of dark-green grass (in a lawn or field) in which toadstools may be found. The circle is formed as a result o the radial growth of a fungus through the soil, away from the centre of the ring; as the fungal mycelium grows it deprives grass roots of nutrients, but as it dies and decomposes the release of nutrients stimulates the growth of the grass, producing the dark coloration. Fairy rings are often formed by Marasmius oreades’.

Allan, Joanna, ‘Learning Outcomes in Higher Education’, Studies in Higher Education, 21 (1996), 93–108, DOI: 10.1080/03075079612331381487. God, social scientists can't punctuate to save their lives! 94 idea that you have to specify objectives before you can plan how to reach them, which is rational but doesn't account for the power of a course or its materials to shape objectives. ARRRGH THE PUNCTUATION!! 'Tyler's definition of objectives can be seen to place the responsibility on the institution to identify the desired behaviour to be developed in the student' re a 1949 thing that seems to commit the sin of being behaviouristic (94). SHE DOESN'T EVEN KNOW WHEN TO USE FULL STOPS. 95- re some 1960s guy called Mager who moves away from 'educational objectives' to 'instructional objectives' (i.e. outcomes of instruction on a particular course which might contribute to wider educational objectives). But mager winds up trying to break complex tasks down into discrete, objectively classifiable bits (slipping, I note, by apparent accident, into subjective terms like 'You must apply at least three rules of good composition in the development of your score') (95). Mager also seems to have lost track of working out how instruction might actually produce the objectives (96, cf. 98). Later 60s and the 70s seem to see the term 'behavioural objectives' but the duff writing makes it a bit hard to see what the idea was here, if indeed the term was meant to denote anything different from Mager's (96-97).

The phasing out of the term 'instructional objectives' in favour of 'behavioural objec-tives' with its attendant specificity and its behaviouristic overtones, effected a polarisation of reaction to the notion of an educational objective. At one extreme rational planning was rejected and labelled as reductionist by those who did not accept that a subject can be reduced to disjointed facts and concepts if the integrity of a discipline is to be respected. This 'atomisation' was, and remains, an anathema, particularly to those involved in curriculum design in higher education, where a high level of analysis and synthesis is implicit in what constitutes learning in undergraduate study. Yet at the other extreme, the tenets of behaviourism underpin the more recent planning models of Wheeler (1967), Kerr (1968), Taylor (1970), and Merrit (1972). [97]

Allan, P. B. M., The Book-Hunter at Home, second rev. edn (London: Allan, 1922). http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/22716. Not sure what this is really all about, but NB: 'A useful catalogue of books on Alchemy was printed in two large quarto volumes at Glasgow in 1906. It is by Professor John Ferguson, and is entitled 'Bibliotheca Chemica,' being a list of the hermetic books in the library of Mr. James Young. The three volumes entitled 'Leechdoms, Wortcunning, and Starcraft of Early England' by the Rev. Oswald Cockayne, published in the 'Rolls' series, 1864-66, contain a valuable contribution to the early medical science of this country. Dr. J. F. Payne's 'English Medicine in the Anglo-Saxon Times' (the Fitz-Patrick Lectures for 1903) is for the most part a dissertation on that work. Some of the prescriptions of these early leeches are rather quaint. 'If a man's head burst . . . let him take roots of this same wort, and bind them on his neck. Then cometh to him good benefit.' The following is an excellent remedy for toothache: 'Sing this for toothache after the sun hath gone down--"Caio Laio quaque voaque ofer saeloficia sleah manna wyrm." Then name the man and his father, then say: "Lilimenne, it acheth beyond everything; when it lieth low it cooleth; when on earth it burneth hottest; finit. Amen."' If after this the tooth still continues to ache beyond everything, it is evident that there is a wyrm in it. For stomach-ache, you must press the left thumb upon the stomach and say 'Adam bedam alam betar alam botum.' This is infallible.'

*Allen, Grant, ‘Who were the Fairies?’, Cornhill Magazine, 63 (1881), 338ff. ‘Mr. Grant Allen illustrates his theory with great wealth of detailm especially laying stress on the fact that old burial-mounds and the like are called by elfin names, and that stone arrow-heads are known as elf-bolts’ (Macculloch 1932, 363).

*Allen, Hope Emily, ‘The Influence of the Supernatural on Language’, PMLA, 63 (1935), 1033-46

*Allen, Hope Emily, ‘The Influence of the Supernatural on Language’, PMLA, 60 (1936), 904-20

Allen, Peter Lewis, The Wages of Sin: Sex and Disease, Past and Present (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 2000). 1–24 re lovesickness; basically re how sex or masturation get prescribed and how this is a problem. Traces this trad to Greece and Islamic areas and sees them coming in with the C12 renaissance. Not detailed and according to intro doesn’t disagree with Wack.

Allen, Richard F., Fire and Iron: Critical Approaches to 'Njáls saga' ([Pittsburgh]: University of Pittsburgh Press, 1971)

Allen, Rosamund (trans.), La3amon: Brut (London, 1992). XXXXstyle. ‘Especially significant are the “supernatural” additions in the Arthurian section: the fairies who attend Arthur’s birth, the elvish smith who made Arthur’s corslet, the marvels of Britain, Arthur’s nightmare about Modred, and the mysterious Argante and the boat with two women in it which appears at his end to rake him to Avalon. Merlin figures more prominently than in Wace: he is sent for twice, to aid Aurelius and later to help Uther, and Lawman continues to refer to Merlin’s prophecies as a device to enhance Arthur’s status, after Merlin has disappeared from the narrative’ (xxxiii) Wace ditches prophecies—Lawman must have ‘em from elsewhere.

Ascanius uses ‘wicked agents’ for prophecy 136-146 < Geoff < Nennius. What’s the word for ‘witchcraft here’—interesting?

Allor, Danielle and Haylie Swenson, 'Book Review: Writing with Plants', Postmedieval: A Journal of Medieval Cultural Studies, 9 (2018),496–510. https://doi.org/10.1057/s41280-018-0108-0

'Eitt af því skemmtilegasta við ljóð Antons Helga er hversu hressilega hann getur komið ímyndunarafli lesenda á flug. Sem dæmi má taka þetta:

Nafn mitt á eftir að lifa.
Símaskráin frá 1994 þykir nú þegar safngripur.
Í henni stendur nafn mitt.

Ég finn fyrir stolti
þótt konan hafi neitað að skrá titilinn hryðjuverkamaður.

Það skiptir ekki alltaf máli hvað maður gerir
eða hvort maður gerir yfirleitt eitthvað.

Nafnið lifir. (60)

Við fyrstu sýn virðist þetta ljóð skopast á meinlausan hátt að frægðarlöngun. En í augu stingur að bóklegt mál fyrri hlutans---með greinilausu nafnorði og eignarfornafni; ópersónulegu sögninni "þykir"; atviksorðunum "nú þegar" og forsetningarliðsfærslunni "Í henni"---er látið rekast á talmálseinkennin sem hefjast í lokaljóðlínu annars erindis og standa til enda. Með tvenns konar málsniði mætast með öðrum orðum andstæðurnar hátt~lágt eða upphafið~hversdagslegt. Hvernig ætli standa á því? Jú, þegar betur er að gætt reynast lok ljóðsins ekki aðeins tilbrigði við fullyrðinguna sem ljóðið hefst á---og þar með hluti af einskonar ramma um það---heldur kallast þau líka, ásamt ljóðlínunum tveimur sem undan fara, á við einhver fleygustu vísuorð íslenskrar bókmenntasögu, orð Gestaþáttar Hávamála "en orðstír deyr aldregi/hveim er sér góðan getur". Gegn margrómuðum kveðskap á [62] handriti sem talið er þjóðargersemi og geymt í lokuðum eldvörðum skáp, sumsé gegn hinu háa og upphafna, er hinu lága og hversdagslega stefnt; símaskránni, samtímanytjariti sem er ekki bara einber upptalning heldur svo lítils vert að menn setja það umhugsunarlaust í endurvinnsludallinn á hverju ári. Og af því að Gestaþáttur var lengst af 20. öld tengdur heiðni og víkingum---hversu sannfærandi sem nútímabókmenntafræðingum kann að þykja það---er eðlilegt að á huga lesenda leiti svokallaðir "útrásarvíkingar" samtímans og þar með það sem víkingum fyrr og síðar fylgir: að fara ránshendi um borgir, löng og álfur og eira engu. Húmorinn í orðunum "Það skiptir ekki alltaf máli hvað maður gerir [...] Nafnið lifir" verður ansi svartur, blandist tvennir tímar í hugum manna og þeir sjái fyrir sér, segjum mynd af úfnum og langskítugum norrænum víkingum sem kippa með sér hendur fjáraflamanna samtímans seilast í sjóði enskra góðgerðarfélaga. En þar með er ekki allt nefnt. Þegar ljóðið hefur ýtt undir að lesendur skríki vegna áreksturs Hávamála og símaskrárinnar, er eins víst að það ljúki upp fyrir þeim árekstrum í mankynssögunni sem kunna fyrir að hafa farið fram hjá þeim. Til að skýra það er þörf á að huga að ólíkri merkingu sem menn leggja í orð---enda fella þeir þau, hver og einn í tiltekið samhengi í kollinum og tengja þau hver með sínum hætti eigin reynslu og þekkingu---þó sjálf 'hugartólin' sem þeir nýta sér (uppskriftir; blöndun; metafórur o.s.frv.) séu í meginatriðum söm. Í samtímamáli hefur orðið hryðjuverk sennilega oftast merkinguna 'sjálfsmorðsárás' en "hryðjuverkamaður" er 'maður', ef ekki bara múslími, 'sem sprengur sjálfan sig eða aðra í loft upp og veldur saklausu fólki skaða til að vekja athygli á tilteknum málstað'. Í orðabókum lifir hins vegar eldri merking orðsins hryðuverk, þ.e. 'ódæðisverk', og þá er hryðjuverkamaður einfaldlega 'ódæðismaður'. Ónefnt er þá að lesa má orðið sem hryðju-verkamaður, þ.e. 'maður sem vinnur í hörðum lotum'. Í ljósi þess er soltið fyndið að velta vöngum yfir samfélagi sem bannar manni að titla sig hryðjuverkamann en viðheldur mýtum um ódæðismenn mið[63]alda og telur síst eftir sér að skapa mýtur um ýmsa kollega þeirra í samtímanum.' (61-63).

Berglind Hólm Ragnarsdóttir, Jón Gunnar Bernburg & Sigrún Ólafsdóttir (2013). The global financial crisis and individual distress: The role of subjective comparisons after the collapse of the Icelandic economy. Sociology, 47(4), 755-775. 'Inspiring our study is the classic idea that sudden social changes, economic crises in particular, create distress as a result, not only of objective economic deprivation, but also of subjective deprivation (Davies, 1962; Durkheim, 1951[1897]). We have extended this idea by building on relative deprivation theory, arguing that economic crises can evoke subjective comparisons that condition the effects of suddenly worsening conditions on distress. We have used the economic collapse in Iceland as a test case for our argument, examining how three types of subjective comparisons influenced subjective injustice and emotional distress during the midst of the recession in Iceland.' (770).

Berleant-Schiller 1991 in texts folder. Two main issues: ‘The first concerns the relationship between naming processes and and landscape processes, and entails a long overdue questioning and reassessment of the hallowed first principle of place name methodology—the axiom that place-names stand independently as evidence of the environments, land uses, and landscapes of the past. This axiom is seldom either questioned (but see Lind 1962) or confirmed, but this paper offers empirical evidence by which to assess it gathered from on-site observation of landscape changes and from the information given by local informants’ (93). 93–97 sort of mainly just about microtoponymy and how its original referents prove not to be as obvious as you might expect and how it’s sort of unstable. But the island only has one village, so there’s almost no macrotoponymy to speak of. 97– bla boring.

Berman, Melissa A., ‘Egils saga and Heimskringla’, Scandinavian Studies, 54 (1982), 21–50. Alas, has no real discussion of the attribution to Snorri.

Berman, Ronald, `Complex Fortune: F. Scott Fitzgerald, Thomas Piketty, and Capital in the Basil and Josephine Stories', The F. Scott Fitzgerald Review, 14 (2016), 60--78.

Bernard, Catherine, `Writing Capital; or, John Lanchester's Debt to Realism', Études anglaises, 68.2 (2015), 143--55. (2015)

*Bernheimer, Richard, Wild Men in the Middle Ages: A Study in Art, Sentiment, and Demonology (Cambridge, Mass., 1952)

Bertelsen, Henrik, Þiðriks saga af Bern, Samfund til udgivelse af gammel nordisk litteratur, 34, 2 vols (Copenhagen: Møller, 1905–11) [752.01.d.2.32] ii 324, Högni and Þiðrekr have to fight; Högni says ‘vinnum þetta einvigi með drengskap. oc fœri nu huargi aðrum ibrigzli sina œtt’. But Þiðrekr loses temper: ‘Þa mellte hann þetta er vist mikilskom er ec stendr her allan dag. oc fyr mer skal standa oc beriaz einn alfs son. Nu suarar hogni. huat ma verra von fyr alfs son en diovolsins sialfs. (ch. 391 in Haymes’s trans). But I can’t see the svartialf variant at all—check other ed.?

Besamusca, Bart, 'The Human Condition, Friendship and Love: The Epic of Gilgamesh and Medieval Arthurian Romance', in People and Texts: Relationships in Medieval Literature: Studies Presented to Erik Kooper, ed. by Thea Summerfield and Keith Busby, Costerus New Series, 166 (Leiden: Brill, 2007), 1-15 (pp. 12-14)

Best, R. I., ‘The Adventures of Art Son of Conn, and the Courtship of Delbchæm’, Ériu, 3 (1907), 149–73. Basically story about how Art’s stepmother geises him to have to marry Delbchaem daughter of Morgan (Delbcæm ingin Morgain p. 162). The stepmother herself is Bécuma, banished from the Tuatha Dé Danann who hang out in ‘The land of promise’ (Tir Thairngaire orsomesuch, dunno re endings, 150) and seem to be assoc. with sídhe (152); she herself pulls Conn, Art’s dad (despite being aiming for Conn). Cross motif index refers to Art’s efforts to win Delbchaem, apparently from the Land of Wonders (Tire na nIngnadh dunno re endings, p. 170/§28) since it says he rules this and Art takes it when he kills Morgan. So hardly a fairy lover!!

Bethurum, Dorothy (ed.), The Homilies of Wulfstan (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1957)

Bezhanova, Olga. Literature of Crisis: Spain's Engagement with Liquid Capital (London: Bucknell University Press, 2017). 978-1-61148-837-1

Bibire, Paul, 'From Riddarasaga to Lygisaga: The Norse Response to Romance', in Les Sagas de Chevaliers (Riddarasögur): Actes de la V^e Conférence Internationale sur les Sagas Présentés par Régis Boyer (Toulon. Juillet 1982), ed. by Régis Boyer, Serie Civilisations, 10 (Toulon: Presses de l’Université Paris-Sorbonne, 1985), pp. 55-74. 'Strikingly popular as an elaboration of the Bridal Quest is the motif of the Unkind Beloved, where the young lady (usually a Maiden Queen) rejects her suitors, usually somewhat forcefully, and is only finally tamed, again by force, by the hero himself. This motif is genuinely of courtly origin (daungeur); it is present in, and probably derived from, one of the translated romances, Clari saga. This rather nasty text shows a picturesque but distinctly morbid concern with the humiliations of the heroine once she is tamed. Nitida saga must be seen as an intentional response to this: it uses the same motif-structure, but presents the heroine in as favourable a light as possible. The correspondences of the names (Clarus = Nitida, Lat. "shining"; Eskilvarðr for the disguised hero in both texts) demonstrates the intended and specific relationship between the two texts, but Nitida saga is much the more pleasing work of the two in its grace and lightness of touch. Further developments of the motif are seen in Sigrgarðs saga frœkna, where it is motivated by pleasingly picturesque álög, and at its fullest in Dínus saga drambláta and Sigurðar saga þögla' (67). 'Konráðs saga keisarasonar is motivated by the hero's relationship with an unfaithful companion; Jarlmanns saga ok Hermanns is certainly intended as a specific and intentional response to Konráðs saga, to which its shorter version contains an explicit reference: it deals, of course, with the hero's relationship with a faithful, though unjustly suspected, companion' (68). 'Instead of a syncretic relationship between different texts, there sometimes seems to be a conscious and deliberate establishment of relationships between Secondary Romances on a basis of commentary or even parody. As mentioned above, there are clear, intentional and explicit relationships between Clari saga and Nitida saga, and between Konráðs saga keisarasonar and Jarlmanns saga ok Hermanns. In both cases, the second saga takes the same situation and examines it from an opposed viewpoint, as if to provide a commentary upon the first saga' (70). Not actually explicit though is it Paul!

Bibire, Paul, ‘Freyr and Gerðr: The Story and its Myths’, in Sagnaskemmtun: Studies in Honour of Hermann Pálsson on his 65th Birthday, 28th May 1986, ed. by Rudolf Simek, Jónas Kristjánsson and Hans Bekker-Nielsen (Wien: Böhlaus, 1986), pp. 19–40. ‘It is striking how many motifs are used in Skírnismál which are associated not with the Vanir but with Óðinn: Hlíðskjálf (only in the prose), rune-magic, Draupnir, and indirectly perhaps also Suttungr’s supernatural mead of poetic wisdom’; collaspse of demarcation of motifs maybe showing lateness (34).

Bibire, Paul, ‘Sægde se þe cuþe: J. R. R. Tolkien as Anglo-Saxonist’, Scholarship & Fantasy: Proceedings of ‘The Tolkien Phenomenon’, Turku May 1992, ed. by K. J. Battarbee, Anglicana Turkuensia, 12 (Turku: University of Turku, 1993), pp. 111–31

Bibire, Paul, ‘By Stock or by Stone: Recurrent Imagery and Narrative Pattern in The Hobbit’, Scholarship & Fantasy: Proceedings of ‘The Tolkien Phenomenon’, Turku May 1992, ed. by K. J. Battarbee, Anglicana Turkuensia, 12 (Turku: University of Turku, 1993), pp. 203–15

*Biddick, K., ‘Field Edge, Forest Edge: Early Medieval Social Change and Resource Allocation’, in Archaeological Approaches to Medieval Europe, ed. by K. Biddick (Kalamazoo, Mich.: XXXX, 1984), pp. 105–18.

Bierbaumer, Peter, Der botanische Wortschatz des Altenglischen, 3 vols, Grazer Beiträge zur Englischen Philologie, 1–3 (Bern: Lang, 1975–79). Bierbaumer [NW4 768.c.97.98–100] I, 13f, II 7, III, 15 re Consolida Media.

i (re leechbook) 9–10: ÆLFÞONE: f. n-St.

Nsg. ælfþone: 24/35; 98/34; 103/24; 107/31; 108/29;

Gsg. ælfþonan: 106/12

Asg. ælfþonan: 82/20; 105/21f; 106/10; 106/13;

SOLANUM DULCAMARA L., BITTERSÜSS, ne. DOGWOOD, SWEET BITTER [SIC].

Diese Deutung wird durch die Etymologie des Pfln. nahegelegt. Die von C.(III, 311) und BT (s.v.)1) angegebene Bed. Circaea Lutetiana L. ist durch die Bed. des Grundworts -þone (=‘Ranke’) auszuschließen, wie die Betrachtung von C[ockayne]. lutetiana zeigt (vgl. Hegi, V,877). Zudem steht C. lutetiana außerhalb der germanischen Tradition, und dessen Namen wie Hexenkraut, ne. enchanter’s nightshade sind wohl durch den lat. Namen entstanden.

ETYM.: P. I, 30: ‘albho- “weiß”---lat. albus “weiß”…ahd albiz, elbiz, …[etc.] (urspr. wohl [10] “weißliche Nebelgestalten” ’. Zahlreiche ae. Krankheitsnamen stehen mit den Elfen in Zusammenhang…

-þone stellt P. (I,1065f) zur Wz. idg. +ten- ‘dehnen, ziehen, spannen’; vgl. lat. tendó[macr], -ere ‘spannen, ausdehnen’, got. uf-þanjan ‘sich ausdehnen, sich ausstrecken’, ae. þenian, þennan ‘strecken, spannen’, ahd., mhd. donên ‘sich ausdehnen’, mhd. done, don ‘Spannung’, ahd. dona, as. thona ‘Zweig, Ranke’. [cf. Kluge, F., Etymologisches Wörterbuch des deutschen Sprache, s.v. dohne] Ae. ælfþone heißt also ‘Albranke’ und ist damit gleichbedeutend mit nhd. Alfranken, Alpranken, nl. alfranken, die alle S. dulcamara bezeichnen. Das Bestimmungswort ælf- bezieht sich auf die Verwendung gegen elfische Krankheiten. Vgl. Tschirch (I,455): ‘Solche Qualmkräuter, welche vor allem die elbischen, stechenden und schmerzbereitenden Dämonen vertreiben sollten, waren…Cannabis…Bilsenkraut…Atropa Beladonna…und das uralte Nachtschaden- und Schadenkraut (Solanum).’ Vgl. dazu vor allem das 106/12ff beschriebene ‘Qualmrezept’ gegen Elfenkrankheit (ælfádl [macr]), in dem ælfþone Hauptbestandteil ist. Das Grundwort -þone bezieht sich auf die windenden Stengel der Pflanze (vgl. Hegi, V,2589).

Goes for Solanum Dulcamara then.

Dolhrúne[macr] 48; goes for Parietaria Officinalis/Pellitory of the Wall; etym ‘Wörtl. “Wundhexe” ’ (48).

None in vol 2 (other medical texts) or 3 (glosses). Lists Solanum Dulcamara nowhere else in his indices of Latin plant names in the vols (i, 159–62; ii, 152–55; iii, 326–28).

ii 125–26: WÉDEBERGE: f. n-St.

HA CXL: Asg. þe me elleborum album 7 oþrum naman tunsincg wyrt nemneþ 7 eac sume men wedeberge hataþ: 258/23;

VERATRUM ALBUM L. (s. tunsincgwyrt)

Der Pfln. wédeberge kann sonst wohl auch andere Giftplanzen wie Helleborus niger L. oder Daphne Mezereum L. bezeichnen. Vgl. Lb. s.v. ceasteræsc, DP 148 (Elleborus vedeberige uel thung), Laud 777 (Helliborum .i. yediberige) und Erhardt-Seebold, S.169. [126]

ETYM.: Vgl. Erhardt-Seebold (S.169; mit Bezug auf die Pfl. Daphne Mezereum): ‘The term wédeberge (=madberry), in its first part, undoubtedly refers to mental disorders which had been associated with the name hellebore since antiquity, while the second part clearly points to a berry-bearing plant.’ (125–26).

iii 250: WÉDEBERGE (poedibergæ, vedeberige, ~, woedeberge, woidiberge, yediberige)

ELEBORUS þung, woedeberge: Cp 755(E 120); ELIFORUS ~ [ve]l ceasteræsc: ClSt E St 243(WW 379,20); D 11, f.5v,col.1; ELLEBORUS poedibergæ: Erf 388; vedeberige UEL thung: Dur 148; ~: D 11,f.4v,col.1; ~, þung: ClSt E 25(WW 391,40); HELLEBORUS woidiberge: Cp 1039(h 86); HELLIBORUM yediberige: Laud 777; Bed.: VERATRUM ALBUM L. (s. tunsingwyrt)

Cf. BW 2,s.v.~.

Bierbaumer, Peter, ‘Research into Old English Glosses: A Critical Survey’, in Problems of Old English Lexicography, ed. by Alfred Bammesberger, Eichstätter Beiträge, 15 (Regensburg, 1985), pp. 65-77. Not very useful, mainly moaning.

Biggam, C. P., ‘Sociolinguistic Aspects of OE Colour Lexemes’, Anglo-Saxon England, 24 (1995), 51–65. Nothing really profound for me, just citeworthy re socioling. and lexicon

Biggam, C. P., Blue in Old English, Costerus New Series, 110 (Amsterdam, 1997).

*Biggam, C. P., Grey in Old English: An Interdisciplinary Semantic Study (London, 1998).

Biggam, C. P., ed. 2003. From Earth to Art: The Many Aspects of the Plant-world in Anglo-Saxon England: Proceedings of the થrst ASPNS symposium, University of Glasgow, 5-7 April 2000. Costerus New Series, 148. Amsterdam and New York: Rodopi.

Biggs, Frederick M., ‘Beowulf and some Fictions of the Geatish Succession’, Anglo-Saxon England, 32 (2003), 55–77. Beowulf is fictional and the audience kind of knows it, so it’s not exactly his fault the Scylding dynasty burns itself out. But within the poem he kind of is and is not responsible. Lack of a son key, but poem not detailed enough for us to say whether it’s his fault (deliberate ambiguity I think Biggs implies). Ambiguous about who turned the slave away leading to theft of cup. Good reasons to think it’s not Beowulf, but B argues that ‘Although he never provides irrefutable evidence, he encourages the audience to consider the possibility that Beowulf is the lord who drove the thief from his court in the first place, thus implicating him in the start of the events that leaad to his death’ (61–, at 62). On the whole the thief stuff seems rather unconvincing though.

Biggam, C. P., ‘Ualdenegi and the Concept of Strange Eyes’, in Lexis and Texts in Early English: Studies Presented to Jane Roberts, ed. by Christian Kay and Louise M. Sylvester, Costerus New Series, 133 (Amsterdam, 2001), pp. 31–43.

Bijleveld, Nikolaj, 'The Nationalization of Christianity: Theology and Nationalism in Nineteenth-Century Denmark', TijdSchrift voor Skandinavistiek, 31 (2010), 77-97, accessible from http://dpc.uba.uva.nl/cgi/t/text/get-pdf?idno=m3102a04;c=tvs

*Peter Biller and Joseph Ziegler (eds), Religion and Medicine in the Middle Ages, Woodbridge: York Medieval Press, 2001. Pp. xvi 253. £50.00. ISBN 1-903153-07-7. Possibly useful re morality and health markku jari project. That said, Faith Wallis Review: Religion and Medicine in the Middle Ages Soc Hist Med, Apr 2003; 16: 135 - 137 says that there's hardly any early medieval stuff, so part of the point may be that it's evidence for how little work's been done here ('Its lacunae, particularly ‘monastic medicine’, also proclaim how far we still have to go', 137).

**Billington, Sandra and Miranda Green (eds), The Concept of the Goddess (London, 1996).

Binchy, D. A., ‘Sick-Maintenance in Irish Law’, Ériu, 12 (1938), 78–134. Passage re Othrus, MS information dead confusing, but transcript seems to be from National Library of Ireland, Phillipps No. 1097, not sure of folio no. Ni dingabur re ndae nomaide1 nach inga[i]2 no nach inuithir3 do nach findtar4 a beo nach [a] marb; ar as muga ma folo neach tro[i]g di araile (82). Where superscript nos are refs to glosses. Gloss 2 is ‘.i. doberar ar inn gai nach uais fo chetoir’; Gloss 3: ‘.i. nach inti(?) … uais (?) a ninde uithir co clochaib no co slibraib’ (82). His transs. are: ‘Not removed before the ninth day1 is any person transfixed by a spear2 or any invalid3 of whom it is not known4 whether he will live or die. For it is wasted [labour] if any one maintain a doomed person for another.5’; 2: ‘who is brought on the end of a noble spear immediately’ (with some note about nach—too many of them apparently, but I don’t quite see how his note fits the text); 3: ‘nor he … in the depth of sickness with stones or sticks’ (82).

Bintley, Michael D. J., 'Sacred Trees in Anglo-Saxon Spiritual History', in Trees and Timber in the Anglo-Saxon World: Medieval History and Archaeology, ed. by Michael D. J. Bintley and Michael G. Shapland (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2013), pp. 211-27.

Bintley, Michael D. J., 'Plant Life in the Poetic Edda', in Sensory Perception in the Medieval West, ed. by Simon C. Thomson and Michael D. J. Bintley, Utrecht Studies in Medieval Literacy, 34 (Turnhout: Brepols, 2016), pp. 227-44.

Birch, Thomas, 'Living on the Edge: Making and Moving Iron from the ‘Outside’ in Anglo-Saxon England', Landscape History 32 (2011), 5-23, DOI:10.1080/01433768.2011.10594648

Birch, Walter de Gray (ed.), Cartularium Saxonicum: A Collection of Charters Relating to Anglo-Saxon History, 3 vols (London: Whiting; Clark, 1885–93)

Birch, Walter de Gray, Index Saxonicus: An Index to All the Names in ‘Cartularium Saxonicum: A Collection of Charters Relating to Anglo-Saxon History’ (London: Phillimore, 1899)

Birgir Hermannsson, `Hjartastaðurinn: Þingvellir og íslensk þjóðernishyggja', Bifröst Journal of Social Science/Tímarit um félagsvísindi, 5 (2011), 21—45. http://bjss.bifrost.is/index.php/bjss/article/view/48, http://skemman.is/handle/1946/13780

Birhan, H., ‘Popular and Elite Culture Interlacing in the Middle Ages’, History of European Ideas, 10 (1989), 1–11. Despite promising title didn’t seem to have much to offer. Not really citeworthy.

Birnesser, Heinz, Peter Klein and Michael Weiser, ‘Treating Osteoarthritis of the Knee: A Modern Homeopathic Medication Works as well as COX 2 Inhibitors’, Der Allgemeinarzt, 25 (2003), 261–64; accessed from <http://heel.ca/pdf/studies/Zeel%20comp%20vs%20Cox%202.pdf> 4–12–2005

Bischoff, Bernhard, Mildred Budny, Geoffrey Harlow, M. B. Parkes and J. D. Pheifer (eds), The Épinal, Erfurt, Werden, and Corpus Glossaries: Épinal Bibliothèque Municipale 72 (2), Erfurt Wissenschaftliche Bibliothek Amplonianus 2o 42, Düsseldorf Universitätsbibliothek Fragm. K 19: Z 9/1, Munich Bayerische Staatsbibliothek Cgm. 187 III (e.4), Cambridge Corpus Christi College 144, Early English Manuscripts in Facsimile, 22 (Copenhagen, 1988).

Bischoff, Bernhard and M. B. Parkes, ‘Palaeographical Commentary’, in Bischoff-Budny-Harlow-Parkes-Pheifer 1988, pp. 13–26. épinal 13–17, Erfurt 17–22; \coropus 22–25. NB this serves as refs for dating. Corpus 2nd quarter of C9, includes ling ev.

Bischoff, Bernhard and Michael Lapidge, Biblical Commentaries from the Canterbury School of Theodore and Hadrian, Cambridge Studies in Anglo-Saxon England, 10 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1994)

Biskupa sögur, 2 vols (Copenhagen, 1858–78). No ed.given. Find out from elsewhere?

*Bitel, Lisa M., Land of Women: Tales of Sex and Gender from Early Ireland (Ithaca and London, 1996) [soc H95.I65 BIT]

Bitterli, Dieter, Say what I am Called: The Old English Riddles of the Exeter Book and the Anglo-Latin Riddle Tradition, Toronto Anglo-Saxon Series, 2 (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2009)

Bjarni Aðalbjarnarson (ed.), Snorri Sturluson: Heimskringla, Íslenzk fornrit, 26–28, 3 vols (Reyjkavík: 1941–51).

Bjarni Bjarnason, Mannorð ([Akranes]: Uppheimar, 2011) [trans. by David McDuff as The Reputation (Gainsborough: Red Hand Books, 2017)]. Mannorð 'Helgina fyrir gæsluvarðhaldið og skýrslutökuna setti hann bjórkippu í plastpoka og hlakkaði til að hitta gamla starfsfélaga í heimapartíi. Hann hafði ekki verið á landinu frá hruni og fannst stemningin óþekkjanleg. Menn sögðu [7] að játningagreinin sýndi einungis að hann hugsaði enn eins og hann væri svo mikill bógur að hann væri á pari við þjóðina sem hann talaði til líkt og fyrrverandi eiginkonu í biturri ástarsorg. Brátt urðu gestirnir slompaðir og skiptust á að hæðast að skriftamálunum, eins og einhver kallaði greinina. Náungi með græn sólgleraugu á nefinu og Þórshamar í keðju um hálsinn sagði að almælt væri að skipta mætti íslenskum viðskiptamönnum í tvo hópa; þá sem Starkaður Leví hafði þegar rekið rýtinginn í bakið á, og þá sem hann ætti eftir að reka rýtinginn í bakið á. Fyrir þessu skáluðu menn.' (6-7). 'Annars eru draumarnir hans vettvangur [...] Á hverri nóttu [82] dreymdi hann að hann yfirgæfi líkamann og flygi og skoðaði heiminn. Þetta breyttist eftir hrunið. Hann man enga drauma lengur og það virðist hafa skapað óskilgreinda þrá innra með honum. Snerting hans við veruleikann var í gegnum hugmyndaheima. En þegar hann missti trú á hugsangetu íslensks samfélags missti hann sína litlu trú á veruleikann. Missti trú að hann væri að tala við nokkurn vitiborinn mann með verkum sínum' (81-82). 'Hér áður fyrr byrjaði ég alltaf á að láta aðstoðarmenn mína tilkynna íslenska sendiráðinu að ég væri á ferðinni og var þá sjálfkrafa kominn í kokteilboðin sem stjórna heiminum. Tilfinningin þar var sú að við værum úrval tilverunnar og stjórnuðum framtíðinni út frá gamansögum hver annars, framtíðin kom til almúgans í gegnum hlátur okkar sem klingdi eins og gullpeningar sem falla ofan í fjársjóðskistu. Já, þetta var hinn gyllti úrvalshláturkór heimsins sem kokteilsglösin léku undir þegar brosfólkið skálaði í nutímatónlistarlegum takti' (153).

Bjarni Guðnason, ‘The Icelandic Sources of Saxo Grammaticus’, in Saxo Grammaticus: A Medieval Author between Norse and Latin Culture, ed. by Karsten Friis-Jensen, Danish Medieval History & Saxo Grammaticus, 2 (Copenhagen: Museum Tusculanum, 1981), pp. 79–93.

Bjarni Guðnason (ed.), Danakonunga sọgur: Skjọldunga saga, Knýtlinga saga, Ágrip af sọgu Danakonunga, Íslenzk fornrit, 35 (Reykjavík: puHið íslenzka fornritafélag, 1982).

Bjarni Harðarson, Sigurðar saga fóts: Íslensk riddarasaga (Selfoss: Sæmundur, 2010).

Bjarni Harðarson, Sigurðar saga fóts: Íslensk riddarasaga (Selfoss: Sæmundur, 2010). For Jamil's Hamas membership cf. 189. Siggi Stál: 'Já, og veistu hverjir voru þeir fótstóru í þessu landi til forna? ... Það voru þrælarnir sem voru fótstórir af öllu mýralabbinu og þeir voru líka einu heiðarlegu mennirnir sem hingað komu. [57] Hitt voru bara þrjótar og illmenni, bölvaðir fantar upp til hópa sem stálu öllu frá heiðarlegu fólki og eru enn að stela, já enn að stela. Stela laxveiðiám og eru í hermanginu' (56-57). Correspondingly the ill-fated encounter with Addi feiti, characterised as a 'nútíma þjóðsagnapersóna' not only takes place in the cellar of the youth centre/concert venue of Njálsbúð, but the text takes the opportunity to emphasise (in the words of Sigurður fótur) that it's in 'einhverjum Njáluslóðum' (66) 'Sá eini sem var ekki snortinn af þessari ræðu og leit á klukkuna var Sigurður F. Og samt lyftist hann örlítið í sætinu við að heyra sig kallaðan Frits. Hvunndags var eins og hann væri ekki nógu merkilegur til að eiga svo mikið nafn og yrði að dragnast með gamla uppnefnið þegar fótstærð hans var sett í samhengi við þennan einmana staf aftan við nafnið' (88)--tension of identity in name again. Stella compares Iceland with Arabian peninsula for some reason: 'Íslenskt kapítal var dautt. Það lá ósnertanlegt inni hjá pabbadrengjum gamla auðvaldsins og í dag væri enda leiðin til ávöxtunar í [89] Sambærilegt afturhald væri vandfundið nema á Arabíuskaganum enda margt líkt með sjeiknum þar og Viðeyjarættunum hér heima' (88-89). In talking about taking on the octopus: 'Þannig mætti oft og einatt breyta klunnalegum risa í ... í ... í, sagði ljóskan og rak í vörðurnar í líkingamálinu en hélt svo áfram: Í stórveldi eins og það sem Davíð konungur byggði upp eftir að hafa fellt Golíat' (89). Cf. Samson ehf. Saga-style: 'Þaðan eru engar sögur' as the laconic end of a ch (wrapping up SF's time in Orlando), 70. cf. 80. söguhetju vorri: archaism(?) p.127. 'Sá eini sem var ekki snortinn af þessari ræðu og leit á klukkuna var Sigurður F. Og samt lyftist hann örlítið í sætinu við að heyra sig kallaðan Frits. Hvunndags var eins og hann væri ekki nógu merkilegur til að eiga svo mikið nafn og yrði að dragnast með gamla uppnefnið þegar fótstærð hans var sett í samhengi við þennan einmana staf aftan við nafnið' (88)--tension of identity in name again. p. 91: Karlinn er trúður og hefði aldrei getað átt þennan strák. Þú veist að mamma hans átti hann með kana og neitaði að feðra krógann? -- Þú lýgur! -- Nei, allt í sögu þessa strǽks og uppruna er eins og lygasaga. Hann er ættgöfugastur okkar allra, skyldur mestu stórmennum landsins og samt kominn af fávitum, indíánum og kanamellu. * * * wanting quiet life: 97 (hvunndagur skuldakapitalisma). Whereas Björgólfur Thor can be read as wanting revenge, etc. (and the novel does nod to this: 165), Sigurður F. goes into the whole thing with a fatalistic sinking feeling and a lack of belief (cf. 102). Scepticism about capitalism elevated to a level of traditional national character by comparison with scepticism about the Bible, in a way reminiscent of Atómstöðin (101). 112 lénskerfi (feudal system) coming loose. implicit critique of existing system as feudal. 138 how SF has given up hope of an innihaldsríkt life, but with what also looks like maybe an allusion to Gunnar and Hallgerður. Ref to sagas in the Dalir and Íslendingasaga. Not sure what it's doing. 160. Jamil's Palestinian haggling skills, in connection with which we get: 'Hina íslensku ríkiskapítalista virtist á slíkum dögum ekki skorta fé frekar en arabíska soldána og afríska ráðherrasyni' (177). 201 quotable passage about Sigurður being a thrall to politeness; 202 berserker metaphor. 205 India 'Ég var nýlega á fundi með forseta Indlands ... Í hans landi búa margir og þeir þar hafa lyft grettistaki í baráttu við hin gömlu heimsveldi. En á fundi okkar undraðist forseti þessi og dáðist raunar að því að við svo fáir gætum unnið slík hervirki, jafnvel slegið eign á gamla gimsteina heimsveldanna. En ég svaraði forsetanum með setningu sem kona mím skaut að mér fyrir fundinn og er svona: // --- You ain't seen nothing yet. He, he.' (205); 208 Morocco (and mosques). Part of what's going on here is surely the implicit recognition that Iceland's a post-colonial state just like these others, revealed through the abjection of (at least) India as being comparable to Iceland. 226: 'Í þrjátíu ár hafði hún stjórnað landinu og einmitt farist eins og Njáli forðum, allt orkaði tvímælis [gave rise to doubt] þá gert var. Öll hennar vark urðu til að ýta undir allt aðra hluti en hún vildi'. 230 character compared (unfavourably) with Snorri Sturluson: Snorri becomes a touchstone for solidity, albeit of a rather nasty kind in this context. 214 Frú Hulda's idiot friend Brynhildur getting rid of all her old stuff live live in a new place: old stuff includes Íslendingasögur, implying they're not something to be abandoned. 235-36 lots of national identity stuff: Danes, Greenlanders, Russians, all mixed in. 243: Sigurður fótur var óafvitandi kominn í Áradal þann sem leitað hafði að Jón forfaðir hans í Höfða. Líkt og segir í sögum af þeim sælureit voru þrjú hlið á dalnum og öll kirfilega varin. Um þau fóru engir byssumenn hverra erinda sem þeir hugðust ganga. 249: Sigurður fótur hafði ekki verið nema þrjú ár í dal þessum þegar hann var bæði altalandi og skrifandi á dari, máli heimamanna. Iðjuleysi háði honum ekki. Hér kom sér vel að hann mundi lítillega handbragð það sem Siggi stál hafði kennt honum í fornlegri smiðju í Beggjakoti. 251: --- Næst á eftir henni mömmu ykkar er þessi byssusmiði það besta sem fyrir mig hefur borið. Þegar ég byrjaði hér að smíða, plóga fyrst og svo byssur, fann ég loks það frelsi sem ég átti í smiðjunni hjá afa mínum. Hitt allt var martröð þar sem ég gerði aldrei neitt, nema skemmta skrattanum. Hér er ég þó að smíða áþreifanleg verðmæti, guðsgjafir. [252] --- Til þess að drepa fólk, sagði sá yngri og fýldari. Það er nú varla gaman að vera skotinn með svona verkfæri? // --- Hmmm. Það deyr enginn nema einu sinni og þegar að því kemur eru byssurnar mínar ekki það versta. Það eina sem skiptir er að gera vel það sem manni er falið er gera. Við ráðum svo engu um það hvað um þau verk verður og hvert þau leiða veröldina. Sjálfum finst mér jafnan eins og að það sem ég vildi að yrði best og til mestra heilla hafi orðið mér öllum til mestrar bolvunar. Eins og þegar ég reyndi að ala ykkur upp, þæð er skelfing að sjá ykkur í dag, he, he. NB Laxness emphasises the distinction between small-time (illegal) and big-time (legal) criminals, whereas Bjarni Harðarson tries to convey a similar concept by making his bankers ex-small-time criminals. A less effective technique I think. Icelandicises setting: Sigurður doesn't spend significant time outside Iceland; Bjarnhéðinn's wife doesn't have an American ex-husband.

Bjarni Harðarson, Mörður (Selfoss: Sæmundur, 2014).

Bjarni Vilhjálmsson (ed.), ''Riddarasögur'', 6 vols (Reykjavík: Íslendingasagnaútgáfan, 1949–1951)

*Bjork, R. E. and A. Obermeier, ‘Date, Provenance, Author, Audiences’, in A Beowulf Handbook, ed. by R. E. Bjork and J. D. Niles (Lincoln: XXXX, 1997), pp. 13–34

Björkman, E., 'Die Pflanzennamen der althochdeutschen Glossen', Zeitschrift für deutsche Wortforschung 2 (1901), 202-33; 3 (1902), 263-307; 6 (1904-5), 174-98 metsatalo.XXXXX

ii 263: ‘alada ‘elleborus genus herbe que francice alada dicitur’, alada ‘elleborus’ Aldhelmi ænigmata 260, 20: ... (= II 1028, 1043)’

ii 268: ‘germarrun vel hemerun ‘elleboros’ II 68836, g,emer ‘elleborum’ III 5012, germâra ‘elleboron, ueratrum, hemera’ III 29915, germaren ‘elleborum’ III 51950, germerra ‘elleboros’ IV 34967. Die botanische Bedeutung war wohl hauptsächlich Veratrum album L., die weiße Rieswurz’ with some refs (268).

ii 269 hemera entry (photographed), shows hemera as a popular gloss for elleborus and gentiniana, and once for cicutas.

ii 274 re ringele has interesting example of intubus misread as incubus; also ii 276 slezo ‘incubus’, which as he says ain’t no plant-name.

ii 276 scer(i)linc and variants as main cicuta gloss

ii 279 ‘wotich ‘cicuta’ III 31435, wotich ‘cicuta vel potius herba venerata’ III 32442, wotich ‘ciconia’ III 48712, wotich ‘cicuta’ III 57559. Botanische Bedeutung Cicuta virosa L.’

ii 290 heiligen cristwrtz ‘elleborus niger’ III 556.38;

ii 294: ‘lunchwrz, lunchwurz III 40311 (Gl. Hildegardis) ist mit lungvurtz, lunckwurcz in der Physica der heil. Hildegard identisch und bezeichnet das Lungenkraut, Pulmonia offfcinalis [sic] L. ... Vgl. ae. lungenwyrt. Das Wort ist eine Übersetzung von lat. pulmonaria (Sin. Barth).’

ii 294 marsithila ‘elleborus’ II 703.33. ‘Ich vermute, daß die Glosse aus marthistil verderbt ist’.

ii 296 nieswrz lots of elleborus glosses: photographed

ii 298 sitteruvrz a popular one for elleborus too: photographed

ii 303 ‘wiznizworz ‘ellebora alba’ III 5411.

307: ‘Zu S. 231: widsewispele ‘cicuta’ III 35843, wodevvspele ‘de cicute’ III 59327, wedewesle ‘cicute’ III 59631: ae. wōdewistle Hoops, Altengl. Pflanzennamen S 50f.

Bjarni Guðnason, Jakob Benediktsson and Sverrir Tómasson, `Um formála íslenskra sagnaritara: Andmælaræður Bjarna Guðnasonar og Jakobs Benediktssonar við doktorsvörn Sverris Tómassonar 2. júlí 1988', Gripla, 8 (1993), 135--86. In Bjarni's part, discussing why Laurentius saga is funny, he quotes the fagnaðarlaus joke and says 'Þess má geta, að Fritzner skýrir orðið fagnaðarlaus með `blottet for alt hvad der er godt eller duer;, en merkingin mun vera hér önnur: 'sá sem gengur ekki inn í fögnuð himnaríkis og nýtur miskunnar guðs', þ.e. fordæmdur. Kappinn Goliath var sagður fagnaðarlaus. Af þessu má skilja, hvers vegna heilsan Jóns Flæmingja er eigi fögur. Annast þarfnast ekki skýringa í þessari frásögu' (149). 'One might add that Fritzner glosses the word fagnaðarlaus with ‘devoid of all that is good or XXXXX’, but the meaning here must be otherwise: ‘one who does not walk in the joy [fögnuð] of the heavenly kingdom, enjoying the mercy of God’, i.e. damned ... Thus we can see how the greeting of Jón flæmingi is not attractive. Otherwise, however, no explanation is needed of this narrative.'

Bjorgolfsson, Thor and Andrew Cave, Billions to Bust—And Back: How I Made, Lost and Rebuilt a Fortune, and What I Learned on the Way (London: Profile, 2014).

Björn K. Tórólfsson and Guðni Jónsson (eds), Vestfirðinga sǫgur: Gísla saga Súrssonar, Fóstbrœðra saga, Þáttr Tormóðar, Hávarðar saga Ísfirðings, Auðunar þáttr Vestfirzka, Torvarðar þáttr Krákunefs, Íslenzk fornrit, 6 (Reykjavík : Hið íslenzka fornritafélag, 1943)

Björn Þór Sigbjörnsson, Bergsteinn Sigurðsson, and others, ''Ísland í aldanna rás, 2001-2010: Saga lands og þjóðar ár frá ári'' (Reykjavík: JPV, 2012)

Björn Þór Vilhjálmsson, `Þjóðarbrot. Eiríkur Örn Norðdahl: Gæska. Mál og menning, Reykjavík, 2009', Tímarit Máls og menningar, 71.1 (February 2010), 81--98.

Björner, Erik Julius, Nordiska kämpa dater: I en sagoflock samlade om forna kongar och hjältar. Volumen historicum, continens variorum in orbe hyperboreo antiquo regum, heroum et pugilum res praeclare et mirabiliter gestas. Accessit praeter conspectum genealogicum Suethicorum regum et reginarum accuratissimum etiam praefatio &c. (Stockholm: Typis Joh. L. Horrn, 1737). Location: UL: Order in Rare Books Room (Not borrowable) Classmark: S752.a.73.1
http://books.google.com/books?id=dwtMGwAACAAJ
title page:
Nordiska kämpa dater: I en sagoflock samlade om forna kongar och hjältar. För hwilken / förutan et ständigt ättartahl På alla befintliga Swenska Kongar och Drottningar / Äfwen Et företal finnes / Angående orsaken til detta wärk, Göta språkets förmån, gamla sakars nögje, Sagors trowärdighet och de här trycktas tidatahl, jämte förtekning på dem, som filförende warit tryckte &c. Volumen historicum, continens variorum in orbe hyperboreo antiquo regum, heroum et pugilum res præclare & mirabiliter gestas. Accessit præter conspectum genealogicum Svethicorum regum & reginarum accuratissimum, etiam præfatio De Caussis editi hujus Opetis, Linguæ Gothicæ prærogativa, rerum Antiquarum jucunditate, Historiarum Hyperb. fide, earumque heic editarum Chronotaxi; Addito etiam ante evulgatarum Catalago &c. (Stockholmiæ, Typis Joh. L. Horrn. Reg. Archivi Typogr. Anno 1737.) Obviously the many different typefaces aren't represented by that, and I only marked capitals when they were in among l.c. so probably best or normalise the whole thing to prose capitalisation when citing.

Den Stormägtigste Förste och Herre, FRIDRIK Den Första, Sweriges Götes och Wändes Konung &c. &c. &c. Regerande Landt-Grefwe til HXXXXXessen, Förste til hirchfeldt / Grefwe til CXXXXXaßen-Ellnbogen, Diets, XXXXXiegenhaijn, Ridda och Schaumburg. &c. &c. &c. Min AXXXXXlranådigte Konung. [page break] Stormägtigste, Alranådigste Konung Och HERRE! Just, när denna tid, et hisligtXXXXX kämpagny och wapnabrak, å de orter förspörjes, där wåra forna Göta-Fäder, med stållta Græker och Romare, haft deras mästa tummelplaß, då frambringer och et färdeles öde, utur ålderdomens tjocka mörker, för Eders Kongl. Way:tXXXXX. en tämmelig Flock af dylika Götar och Rordländningar, alla härli goda Kongar, Hjältar och Dandemänn. Hwilka hema, i unga åhren, med idrottar eller Ridderliga öfningar upfödde, bland likar och fosterbröder upmuntrade, sedermera med hurtigt mannamod och dråpliga krafter, endels, både i det willa brusande haf, medelswiking eller siöhernard, som och i utländiska marker och fällt, för Borgar och [next page] Fästen i Asa och MoraXXXXX land eller Blålandm , i Græka och Roma land, i Tysk- och Walland, under dundrande häraljud och ludragång, hafwa framfört sina segrande Wapen, ståtliga Baner, bitande Swärd, Fasta Skjöldar, gläntsande Hjälmer, starka Harnåsk, spitsiga Gläfwar och Pilar, samt knallande Walslungor. Då dem wäl ofta mött många Digra Busar, Blåmänn, Gettar, Troll, Drakar och Berserkar, det är, resliga, bistra, raswilla, lustspringande och blodgiriga Kämpar, ja, ibland, Dwergar och Hamlöpare, eller kånstiga, snälla och wiga småmänn, jämte annat både fasligt och pußlu-stigt folkslag; Doch har wåra modiga hjältars ädle, dygd och manndom, så mycket uträttat, at de, såsom ouwikeliga Banemänn, hafwa dem alla, härt och twärt nedersablat, til wallen lagt, i grund fördärfwat och til Oden hänskickat. Endels hafwa de och, efter slik utstånden örlog och mannarön, satt sig i stillhet och frid som lambet blid, skipat lag och rättwisa, ridit sin Äreksgata, syßlat om sina Riken, Fylken, Hundari och Härader, genom Jarlar, Hersar och Lagmänn, Allmogen wärnat, landtwärnsmänn tilsatt, hällit Möten wid landamären, hembudit hwarannan til Julahelgd och Gästabod, där giljat och giftats, swängt sina dyrbara Bragar-Bägare och Hjälta-Horn, druckit mjöd och must, Thors, Odens, Frejrs, Göijas och Friggas minnen, giort dyra löften til nya och gagneliga Daters uträttande, i synnerhet å wißa tider, höst, winter och wåhr, å Disa och Alsherjar Thingen, offrat til berörde sina Gudar och Gudinnor, för lyckligit åhr, Frid och Krig, ägta kärlek och samhälle, sungit och förtält, med ordfagra kwäden, sina tappra bedrifter, til hwilkas förhärligande och anteknande å Kaflar och Balkar, de hafwa förskaffat skickeliga Hird eller Håfmänn och Skallder, låtande jämwäl, då de af lefnad wordo mätta,samt til Walhall eller dödsens rike, bland Einherjare, fara skulle, i Böta eller Runestenar, rista sina kunbara namn, deßlikes undersama Stenstodar upresa, jämte ansenliga kumbla och jorda Högar, sig til äwärdelig åminnelse hos den wettgiriga efterwerlden. [page break, para break] Emedan nu, Eders Kongl. Way:t/XXXXX til alla redeliga och behjärtade undersåtares stora nögje, Själf är en Frägdefull Göta och Swea Ätt-Herre, har äfwen allramäst af de nu regerande kongar, med allmänt låford, biwistat Bardaga, eller Slag och Stridebuller, warit tilstädes, då Borgar och fasta Städer nederbrutos, Förstar och tappra Männ nederflogos,kunnade altså wifeliga urdela, med hwad wett och klokhet alt slikt, som nu om wåra Rordiska Hjältar är berättat, och widare i närmwarande Sagoflock warder anfört, må wara idkat och uträttat, lärande jämwäl, af egen träffelig erfarenhet, bäst kunna betyga, at et owist krig, där hiältar stupa, fast sämre är än magerfrid. [para break] Dy torde också Eders Kongl. Way:t/XXXXX ej allenast wid någon ledig stund, ju efter gamal konga sed, låta detta wärk Sig föreläsas, af någon hugprydig Håfmann eller och Småswenn, utan jämwäl mig, med Sin allranådigaste Ägishjälm, eller Skydds och Hiälpe-Hand, i sinom tid befrämja och hugna. Därföre jag, glader i gott hopp, til min dödstund lefwer, Stormägtigste, Alranådigste Konung, Eders Kongl. Way:tsXXXXX Underdånigaste och troplicktigaste tjenare ERIK JULIUS BJÖRNER. [page break followed by another page with big letters, this time in Latin, saying hello to Björner's various academic mates, it seems, followed by:] CELSISSIMI HEROES, Perillustres MÆCENATES & Generosi PATRONI. // Opus hocce deproperatum, me hercle, magis quam elaboratum, VOBIS, HEROES, MÆCENATES ac PATRONI, jam tandem dedicatum eo consecratumque; ob beneficia quidem haud vulgaria, sed quæ præstita, IPSI, pro Heroica, Prælustri ac Generosa VESTRA consuetudine, censebitis, scio, fere nullas quæ etiam posthac præstituri sitis, si ego, spe, futuri sitibunda, blandulaque conjectura adsequi conarer, næ, vel sic, imprudentis charactere hominis notarer certissime. Et de hoc, profecto, nisi meopte genio, saltem Senecæ effato, monitus, pulcre utpote dicentis: omnia, mihi crede, etiam felicibus, dubia sunt, nihil sibi quisquam de futuro debet promittere. Si placuerit labor meus, erit, de quo mihi gratuler modeste; sin displicuerit, mandato tamen munere me functum, adferet quivis scenæ peractæ peritior, idemque iudex candidior. Rara quidem, observante etiam olim Tacito, temporum est felicitas, ubi quæ sentias, dicere licet, VOBISCUM tamen, HEROES, MÆCENATES & PATRONI, prorus auspicato, Svethicis Camœnis Saturnia reditura tempora, haud vani augurantur, quotquot VESTRAM Sapientiam Prudentiam rerumque agendarum Peritiam venerabundi adgnovere. AstXXXXX, nec has DIVINAS VIRTUTES, unquam sentietis pollutas, si etiam meis Votis, illa subvenire volueritis Ope, quam tot alii diversi studii & fortis Candidati, solicite ambiverunt, læti acceperunt. Ut hoc faciatis, VOS per Apollinis & Musarum sacratissima jura obtestor atque rogo, nullo non tempore permansurus // CELSISSIMORUM, // PERILLUSTRIUM // ac // GENEROSORUM // NOMINUM VESTRORUM // devotissimus // ac // humilimus cultor // ERICUS JULIUS BIOERNER. [page break] Sägne Kwäde // Öfwar // Detta Wärks // Lärda Utgifware. //

När egen kiärlek säts å sido och til rygga.
Och hwar och en wil sig wid sanning endast trygga,
   Samt utan wälde läs, hwad hälst för Sak thet rör,
   Och icke pennan straxt til wedersagu för.
Tå får man ofta lius, ther eljest mörkt kan wara,
Och genom id och flit, alt mer och mer erfara,
   En sanning, som sig dölgt i många hundra åhr,
   Och komer swåra fram, ther afund gärna rår,
Af wåra grannar then, som lärder rätt wil heta,
Och i the gamla Skrin och Skrifter noga leta,
   Han lär så räkna, och med öpna ögon se
   Sin Ätt från Attland ut, och icke ther åt le.
Ru jakar Egenolf / med många skiäl tilhopa,
At Manheim wårt är älst bland länder i Europa, [Europa in roman letters rather than gothic]
   Wår Biörner lär ochså wäl låta sama låt,
   Med sådan grund, som mann få lätt, ej komer åt.
Hwad andra lärda förr, af gamla Sagor wisat,
Sås nu förbi, i ty nog främande dem prisat,
   För thet the letat up, hwad länge legat dolt,
   Och ej för kärna skal, och annan fläder sålt.
Då Eder önskar jag, wår Biörner lärd och kiäcker,
Then Sägnen sannas, som om Biörnen här än räcker,
   Ser manna wett / ther til tolf manna styrka stor,
   Han nog urafel fått, och blixtar som en Thor.

  Upsala den 12. Aug. 1736.            I haft, doch wälment, yrkt af
                                       Olof Rudbeck/ Sonen.
                                       Kongl. Archiater [Archiater in roman] och professor [professor in roman].

____________________________________________________________________________

*Black, W. G., Folk Medicine, Folk-Lore Society Publications, 12 (London, 1883), p. 60 note cited by Heather 1977 as source for Grendon 1909, 215, re spiderwiht reading.

*Blackburn, F. A., ‘The Husband’s Message and the Accompanying Riddles of the Exeter Book’, Journal of English and Germanic Philology, 3 (1901), 1-13. 1st suggestion of rune-stave idea acc. to Ericksen 1998 31).

Blain, Jenny, ‘Speaking Shamanistically: Seidr, Academia and Rationality’, DISKUS (2000), <http://www.uni-marburg.de/religionswissenschaft/journal/diskus/blain.html>

Blain, Jenny, Nine Worlds of Seidr-Magic: Ecstasy and Neo-Shamanism in North European Paganism (London: Routledge, 2002)

Blair, John, ‘Anglo-Saxon Pagan Shrines and their Prototypes’, Anglo-Saxon Studies in Archaeology and History, 8 (1995), 1–28 [ARCH qD650 ANG; L474.b.85 West Room/ASNaC]. Little continental evidence for AS ritual structures, but pre-A-S British ev. Bede and Aldhelm clearly think that there were such structures. ‘At the heart of the matter is the assimilation into English ritual practice of enclosures in the form of regular squares, often containing standing posts on which special graves were aligned. A high proportion of these enclosures were superimposed on prehistoric monuments, normally Bronze Age barrows. This association of square enclosures, orthostats and re-adopted sites is a signpost to the sources of the few Anglo-Saxon cult structures known to archaeology’ (3).

*Blair, J., ‘Churches in the Early English Landscape: Social and Cultural Contexts’, in Church Archaeology: Research Directions for the Future, ed. by J. Blair and C. Pyrah, CBA Research Reports, 104 (York, 1996), XXXX

Blair, John, The Church in Anglo-Saxon Society (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2005). 51–57 on ‘The monumentalization of cult’. Argues (contra Carver) that rise in Xian-style pagan monuments reflects borrowing of ideas rather than conscious competition. 53–54 sees barrow burials in Europe and England c. 600 as new (not chance survivals of old custom) and dramatic articulation of new ideologies (not nec. consciously pagan). Lots of refs to all sides of story. Some interesting stuff on alignments of A-S structures at Yeavering with prehistoric monuments, first on one axis (with theatre thing) and then on another (with halls). 54–56. ‘Yeavering offers perspectives on the interaction between ritual activity and high-status secular residence at the point of conversion. It looks as though the initial Anglian structures were an arena for religious cult and meetings, but not necessarily for the kind of hall-centred royal life that we know from “Beowulf” .’ (56). ‘It seems possible that an emergent kingship, anxious to establish formal centres, commandeered a [57] place of long-standing popular assembly, and that Paulinus carried out his mass-baptisms at Yeavering less because it was a royal residence than because the inhabitants of a wide region met there’ (56–57). Draws parallel with Things 57.

Burials—emphs that the expectation of ‘Xian burial’ gows much slower than Xianity, even as a concept. ‘There is evidence from Ireland and (less clearly) Wales that ancestral graves were thought not merely to mark the boundaries of family lands, but to defend them against encroachers. From seventh-century England a group of rich barrow-burials, set high on frontier [60] zones and sometimes with their feet pointing towards open country, so strongly recall Irish and British descriptions of “sentinel” burials that it seems reasonable to interpret them in the same light’ (59–60, with refs). Causes problems for new kinds of burials of course—which are growing in Frankia and Celtic-speaking regions. Blair concludes ‘These trends, which had barely penetrated the Christian English by c. 650, would affect them deeply over the next century. Like their neighbours, the English needed churches around which they could reorientate family identities, shielding them from King Radbod’s worrying sense of faithlessness to a larger kindred. As English kings and nobles began their great phase of monastic endowment they created family shrines of a new kind, as expressive of worldly status as their parents’ barrows and and [sic] much more able to preserve it in permanent, coherent memory. In such contexts, the new ways of burial would run no risk of disempowerment’ (65). NB duplicated and p. 65!

‘The really momentous change was not the triumph of “Roman” over “Irish”, but the formation of an indigenous ecclesiastical establishment which could stand on its own feet’ (79) re c. 650–850. Kind of goes for the whole book.

Nbs that althugh charters imply that land-grants are pious donations,money may have changed hands; ‘Money may often have changed hands, even though it is only occasionally mentioned. Unlike either charters or conventional hagiography, the foundation-narratives for Minster-in-Sheppey and Minster-in-Thanet celebrate the building of these houses’ fortunes through the wily manoeuvrings [88] of their first abbesses. To conceive a monster as simply “founded” by a king may often do less than justice to his monastic relatives’ (87–88).

100ff. re Bede’s letter to Ecgberht. But argues that the minsters he disses aren’t wholly fraudulent: rather, they have all the trappings but without the intellectual credibility. Rather like the way a late C19 Oxford college would seem to a reformer; ‘The colleges of Georgian Oxford mirrored the social outlook, lifestyle, and material culture of the gentry ... yet in the layout of their buildings, the make-up of their communities, the rhythms of their daily life, and their economic basis they were clearly and substantially different from country houses’ (107). ‘The change being advocated is not that small minsters should be suppressed to make way for episcopal governance; rather, it is that the satellites of a large minster on the one hand, and a collection of autonomous and useless little minsters on the other, should be pulled together into a rational infrasctuc[111]ture for the bishop’s pastoral duties’ (110–11). Close re-readings of sources. Bede wants reform and not (as it seems he gets) dismantling. Leads on to the 747 Clofesho decrees which must either be based on Bede’s letter or reflect the same zeitgeist. Nice comparison with Frankish stuff of Boniface’s which makes Clofesho look milder: ‘It is hard not to be left with a sense that the English canons are confronting more intractable conditions, with embedded rights interposed between minsters and reforming bishops’ (114–15 at 115). Plays down episcopal power c. 650–850, esp. 114–

268–70 re ‘hierarchical centres (i): princely citadels’ and talks a bit about British influence on Bamburgh. 79 re dearth of established royal sites in early period.

386 n.70 ‘ Offchurch (Warw.), first mentioned as Offechirch in 1139, occurs in the hagiography of St Freomund and may have had some folkloric association with King Offa. Pucklechurch (Glos.), Puclancyrcan (ASC ‘D’ s.a. 946 (p. 112); S 553), is problematic because of the implausibility of the persoanl name *Pucela, ‘little goblin’, or alternatively of the description ‘little goblin’s church’. In this case and perhaps others, it is conceivable that -ciric was used figuratively or ironically to describe some inappropriate or natural feature. Cf. the ‘Green Chapel’...’ with refs for the Green Chapel bit (386 n. 70).

473 n. 206 ‘A properly contextualized study of Anglo-Saxon sacred sites would need to take account of multiple regional variations in patterns of settlement, land-use, and territoriality: the present survey cannot be other than superficial. The sensitive account of sacred sites in the Mediterranean and its micro-regions in Horden and Purcell 2000: 403–60 illustrates which might be possible for England’ (473 n. 206).

‘Ælfric deplored divinations and lot-casting ... superstitions connected with propitious and unpropitious days, necromancy and clairvoyance, certain sorts of amulets, and in general the activities of “witches”and “wizards”. To create an all-embracing Christian society it was essential to remove competitors, such as the wise-men and wise-women who may still have been popular in the countryside’ (483 citing Meaney 1984 ‘Ælfric and idolatry’, for the latter point at 135).

NOTES to MS: NB Williams typo p. 51 fn. 193. Œthelwald of Deira c. 650s typo for Æthelwald? Inconsistence re italic or roman in c. Explain re Elveshowe. 164 in MS gives etymology of Bampton as ‘(beām tūn, ‘tūn by the beam’)’, but beam mis-trans, NB misplaced macron; same page main text has tunas ?for tūnas. Check trans. of Isaiah re Bede’s commentary—if dragons trans. dracones then surely ‘snakes’ better? 191 charter of 840 Æthelwulf grants fifteen hides at Halstow ‘(Halgan stoc, ‘holy place’)’ check this, S290. Doesn’t cite Niles re æcerbot text—might want to. 434: n. 226 has ‘’ within ‘’. Re raven carrying Oswald’s arm, ‘No Anglo-Saxon could have missed this tacit reference to the sacred bird of Woden, lord of the dead, who in Germanic myth had hung on an ash-tree’ (434). The associated Davidson quotation in n. 226 strikes me as fanciful. Whew! 441–42 refers to ‘Bald’s Leechbook’, but NB that this is only the first two collections in an MS containing three, and it’s the latter (usually called Leechbook III or somesuch) which contains most of the more juicy material. Bald’s Leechbook itself seems to date from Alfred’s reign—give refs—even though MS is mid-C10. Dates Lacnunga to c. 1050, and I think he’s referring to the MS, but I don’t think there’s any basis for this—refer to Doane 1994. Mentions ‘the chanting of incantations against elf-shot’ so perhaps worth emphasising the problems here.

‘In the north and midlands, some assimilation of British ecclesiastical sites by the English clearly did occur during the seventh century. The fact that Carlisle, Abercorn and Melrose all kept their British name … suggests some element of continuity in the process of transfer [Thomas 1981, 291–94; Stancliffe 1995a, 78–79], but the form that this took, on the spectrum between gentle acculturation and violent displacement, is unknown. The early eighth-century Northumbrian takeover of Whithorn maintained its site and preserved some of its traditions, but overbuiltat least art of the British monastic complex with a layout and buildings of a purely English kind [Hill 1997, 16–18]…’ (24 in the MS). ‘There is, as Clare Stancliffe observes, a contrast between the *eclēs sites between Tweed and Forth, which mostly emerge as the mother churches of big parishes with dependent chapels, and those near Ripon, which tend to be humble churches later: is this because King Oswald and St. Aidan had allowed more continuity of religious personnel and structures, when absorbing British territory in the 630s, than King [25] Ecgfrith and St. Wildfrid would do in the 670s? [Stancliffe 1995a, 78; cf. Barrow 1973, 28–30, 36–39, for the later high status of the more northerly *eclēs sites, and Smith 1996, 27–31, for an evolutionary view Anglian dominance in southern Scotland]

ch. 4 ‘The Church in the Landscape, c. 650–850’. ‘Written (and clerical) sources stress the monumental and the architectural, emblematic of Roman civilization and orthodoxy; our own intensively built-up environments encourage us to accept that emphasis, and to forget how many Anglo-Saxon communal activities must have taken place in the natural world and the open air. In the vernacular culture of early Christian England, landscape mattered more than architecture’ (160 in MS). I feel he doesn’t really live up to this but never mind. ‘Actual cases are hard to identify, but two of the more persuasive may serve to illustrate the possible modes of re-use. At Ripon (Yorks.) [citing Hall–Whyman] a prominent natural hillock which could have been mistaken for a barrow, known by 1228 as Elveshowe (i.e. “elf’s barrow”), was used during the early seventh century for a cemetery. In the 650s King Alchfrith gave the site to the Irish community of Melrose as a monastic dependrncy, but then transferred it to St. Wilfrid, who built his church west of the mound in the 670s. During c.700–850 the hilltop cemetary continued in use for high-status coffined burials, all adult males and presumably members of the religious community. This perpetuation of a pre-monastic and possibly pre-Christian cemetery is remarkable, as is Wilfrid’s precise, deliberate alignment of his church on the “elf’s howe”.’ (163 in MS). ‘But ecclesiastical scholars took an interest in topographical names for their own sake, bothering to note (rightly) that Selsey minster was built on a “seal island”, or (wrongly) that Wimborne meant “wine-spring” from the clarity and flavour of its water’ [citing HE iv.13; Rudolf,Vita S.Leobae, c. 2 (ed. G Waitz, MGH Scriptores XV.1 (Hannover 1887), p. 123)] (MS 172). ‘Minster-in-Thanet had a tradition that the late seventh-century Kentish princess Eormengyth, sister of that same “Domne Eafe” whose pet hind ran to such good effect, chose her own place of burial a mile to the east of Minster. The story is too odd to be a hagiographical invention: it is tempting to [203] conclude that Eormengyth could not quite bring herself to forsake a traditional barrow for her sister’s church’ (MS 203–4 with fn. suggesting barrows nearby).

Ch. 8, ‘From hyrness to local parish: the formation of parochial identities, c. 850–1100’, section on ‘The landscape of ritual and cult: continuity and innovation’, MS pp. 429–47. ‘In the Christian context, a wide range of sites were considred “holy” because of what saints did there, whether in life by performing miracles or receiving divine instructions (such as the many wells which burst forth when they prayed), or in dying by sanctifying the place with their blood (such as the lush grass on Oswald’s death-site, or the hair that grew from the turf on Wigstan’s)’ (433). ‘St. Cuthmann’s trail across west Sussex was marked by the stone near Bosham where he sat as a youth (known for its healing miracles), the meadow in the Arun valley where mowers laughed at him (cursed with rain in the mowing season), the spot where the ropes of his cart broke (Steyning minster), and the hole where his adversary Fippa was swappowed by the earth (Fippa’s pit)’ (MS 438, citing Blair 1997). If following up the sacred landscape stuff NB refs to Horden–Purcell, Wilson 2000, carmichael et. al. eds, Ashmore and Knapp.

Blair, P. H., 'The Place-Names of Hertfordshire: A Review', Transactions of the St. Albans and Hertfordshire Architectural and Archaeological Society (1937), 222-31. Review of EPNS The Place-Names of Hertforshire: how to cite?

Blair, Tony, 'Jeremy Corbyn’s politics are fantasy – just like Alice in Wonderland', The Guardian, 29 August 2015, http://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2015/aug/29/tony-blair-labour-leadership-jeremy-corbyn.

Blaisdell, Foster W. Jr., 'The Value of the Valueless: A Problem in Editing Medieval Texts', Scandinavian Studies, 39 (1967), 40--46

Blake, N. F. (ed.), Middle English Religious Prose (London: Arnold, 1972). MS said: ‘3if eny mon is elue I. nome . oþer . elue I. blowe ; he hit haþ . of þe angelus . þt fellen out of heuene’

*Blamires, Alcuin, ‘The Wife of Bath and Lollardy’, Medium Ævum, 58 (1989), 224-42.

Blamires, Alcuin, ‘Chaucer the Reactionary: Ideology and the General Prologue to the Canterbury Tales’, Review of English Studies, n.s. 51 (2000), 523-39. Seems 2b more detailed version of crisis and dissent bit. abstract: ‘Chaucer’s General Prologue is a more politically charged text than is usually supposed. It formulates post-Revolt ruling ideology through tactical distribution of blame for oppression among scapegoats, away from lordship (Knight) and judiciary (Franklin). It recognizes a source of manorial exploitation primarily at the level of the Reeve, a peasant foreman whose harsh managerial rigour contrasts with the distant benevolence of his own lord. While the anticlerical dimension of the Prologue’s propagandist configuration is well known, readers have missed the full social implication of its uncompromising strategy (here termed ‘displacement of oppression’) because of the received myth of a socially unfixed Chaucer whose writing emanates from a classlessness straddling different social strata.

Here it is argued that, on the contrary, a clear commitment to aristocratic ideology and disdain for peasant aspiration is visiable in the General Prologue and persists in the tales, including the Summoner’s Tale, as was apparent to a seventeenth-century pamphleteer’ (523).

‘The second problem is that, whereas I am talking of the Prologue in some relation (at least) to the 1381 Revolt, other persuasive voices would tend to be sceptical about the very possibility of establishing such a relation … pearsall [1992] puts me in a difficult position by declaring that Chaucer does not make “any significant mention of the Peasants’ Revolt, despite the sometimes desperate efforts of his admirers to extract something appropriate from him” …[without refs] I suspect that I am now about to join the Desperate School of Chaucer Criticism’ (526). That said, NB ‘O do not claim that Chaucer is “really” talking about post-Revolt social politics when creating the Reeve: rather, that the creation of the Reeve is informed by the social politics of a Chaucer whose political instincts were closer to Gower’s than is customarily supposed’ (534).

Divorcing of the Knight from England and thus any assoc with oppression or liveried retainers 527-8; Franklin cops ‘the judicial, parliamentary, and fiscal functions from which he has carefully divorced the Knight’ (528)—neat tie-in with folks who actually did cop flak from peasants in 1381 (528-9). But no victim ever portrayed ‘On the basis of this sort of silence Mann coined a memorable slogan for one recurrent tactic in the Prologue when she wrote of the “omission of the victim”. If the text does not supply victims to witness graft or extortion in the Franklin, then we shall find confident assessment of such an office-holder difficult to achieve. However, I want to move towards a somewhat different interrogation by deploying another slogan, one that I shall designate “displacement of oppression”. Doesn’t the Franklin’s description consolidate what the Prologue has begun in its construction of knighthood, namely a conspiracy of silence about the administrative machinery whereby exploitation of the peasantry could occur? The exploitative practises of religious functionaries on the pilgrimage are systematically exposed. But Chaucer allows no explicit responsibility for exploitation to touch those who control and administer secular government, at least, not at the level of gentil society. He displaces it below that stratum’ (529). Goes to plowman, reeve, miller. Mainly reeeve. Plowman completely squeaky clean, to the extent that his virtues are in negative a checklist of all the complaints which the aristocracy might level at his class (530). Discusses function etc of reeves. NB bottom-up election (in theory). Supposed to change annually but an efficient one might be kept on for ages by top-down rule (531-2). So a nasty one will be despised by everyone, even if maintained as useful by aristocracy (cf. 531-4). ‘The description therefore signals that it is not lords (whom in effect the [533] 1381 rebels had wished to abolish) but estate supervisors of the peasants’ own stock who treat peasants with merciless rigour. Meanwhile, and crucially, the lord of this particular manor is represented as being at a comfortable, mitigating distance from the Reeve’s exploitations’ (533).

No trouble laying into ‘religious practitioners’ tho’ (533). Thus reads that ‘the impulse of the Reeve’s Prologue and Tale is to sustain the profile of the Reeve as a scapegoat; unattractively tendentious in his preacherly pretensions, as well as censoriously pseudo-gentil in his pretense of not wanting to be brought down to the Miller’s level of bawdy discourse. Above all, the Reeve is seen to continue to manifest tyrannical tendencies when he produces a fabliau promoting a rigorous “eye for an eye” mentality’ (535). Asks why Chaucer has been seen as demotcratic niceuy type (536)—twofold explanation. ‘First, there is the misapprehension that Chaucer himself epitomizes the rise of an underdog … his social instincts consequently driven by classlessness and mobility. It is curious how adherence to this construction of the poet persists even in those who most objectively repudiate it …[537] This was a construction of Chaucer’s identity supremely adapted to a critical agenda obsessed with detachment and irony. It is still alive and kicking’ (536-7). 2nd reason is ‘because there is something quite disconcerting to our sensibilities about a standpoint which is at once morally egalitarian, and politically hierarchical’ (537). But NB ‘Nevertheless, both here and in the General Prologue there is a sneaking admiration for—certainly some understanding of—the drive for improved status which some people display. It has led many readers into over-interpreting the significance of which is felt to be the Prologue’s engagement with the vigour of society’s “middle classes” or “middle strata” ’ (538)—but Blamires draws distinction between individual achievement, which is fine and allows aristos to ‘congratulate itself on its tolerance’ (538) and collective social movements, which Chaucer’s obviously not keen on.

Blamires, Alcuin, ‘Crisis and Dissent’, in A Companion to Chaucer, ed. by Peter Brown (Oxford, 2000), pp. 133-48. Chaucer obviously didn’t want to write about the cirses we want him to in the way we want him to! Long-standing view of him as socially mobile, ‘Hence, while critics have very often sensed that the alignment of Chaucer’s poetry in response to social crisis is no less hard-line than Gower’s, they struggle with the tone of his one outright reference to the Revolt…’ (136). ‘Yet Chaucer generally draws much more attention to extortionate ‘tax-farming’ practices in the ecclesiastical sector. The kind of jibes frequently made in Chaucer’s writings about religious operatiors—for instance, in the Friar’s Tale that the summoner’s “maister hadde but half his duetee’ (1352)—beg to balanced, at this period, by more examples from the realms of secular taxation … Reading his poetry, you would think that there was a perceived national crisis of corrupt exaction only in the church, not in the state’ (137). Wasn’t C a secular tax-collector? anyway, the vs. Church thing fits well.

Interesting re Chaucer and Wycliffite approaches—not completely banned at his time, and some sympathy perhaps to be detected (Chaucer as translator and all). 141-143 re ‘The Laity and Dissent’, with WBP 14-29: ‘Almost as soon as she begins to speak, Alisoun of Bath is arguing defensively about the doctrinal acceptability of having been married five times’ (141); ‘It makes all the difference in the world that a woman not a man, and worse still a laywoman not a nun, is posing questions about the Gospels and advancing personal readings … The official line on laywomen debarred them from theological study; and for them to preach was beyond the pale’ (141). ‘John, the carpenter in the Miller’s Tale, who takes pride in knowing nothing but the Creed, typifies the “official” line on simple lay piety’ (141)—ties in with his credulity? Useful section—return to it.

Blankenhagen, Peter H. von, ‘Easy Monsters’, in Monsters and Demons in the Ancient and Medieval Worlds: Papers Presented in Honour of Edith Porada, ed. by Ann E. Farkas, Prudence O. Harper and Evelyn B. Harrison (Mainz on Rhine, 1987), pp. 85–94. Reckons that depictions of monsters get rarer to the end of the Gk ‘archaic era’, but centaurs get more popular (86–87). Some typological similarity with England from ASE to high medieval? ‘Up to this time [‘not long after the Parthenon centaurs’], centaurs were entirely male and one is forced to conclude that the tribe was prevented from extinction through the rape of women. Clearly this is what makes them the natural enemies of man’ (87) cf. elves etc. Basically about how monsters are tamed and made into smily representations of the natural world before they just disappear from the data. Hmm.

*Blench, Roger, ‘General Introduction’, in Archaeology and Language I: Theoretical and Methodological Orientations, ed. by Roger Blench and Matthew Spriggs (Routledge: London, 1997), pp. 1–17.

Blick, Gail, 'Leaving the Wilderness: Langland's Ecological Remit', Green Letters: Studies in Ecocriticism, 11 (2012), 56--69, DOI: 10.1080/14688417.2009.10589054. Irritatingly uses passūs when it means passus. 66: 'However, in order to demonstrate Langland's method ofbiblical allusion concerning cultivated areas - the 'fair feeld ful of folk' (B.Prol.17) introduced in the Prologue - we may also understand that this reference introduces, by association, the Parables of the Sower and the cockle in Matthew where Christ explains to the disciples that:

>The field is the world. And the good seed are the children of the kingdom. And the cockle are the children of the wicked one. And the enemy that sowed them is the devil. But the harvest is the end of the world. And the reapers are the angels. (Matt. 13:38-39)

Bliss, A. J. (ed.), Sir Orfeo, 2nd ed. (Oxford, 1966). 281 ff. ‘He mi­t se him bisides / (Oft in hot vnder-tides) / Þe king o fairy wiþ his rout / Com to hunt him al about’. 47ff. ‘In at a roche þe leuedis rideþ, / & he after, & nou­t abideþ. / When he was in þe roche y-go . Wele þre mile, oþer mo, / He com in-to a fair cuntray, / As bri­t so sonne on somers day, / Smoþe & plain & al grene / — Hille no dale nas þer non y-sene’. Castle therein, described. Reminiscent of heaven in Pearl? 387ff. it becomes clear that folks there are dead. Disturbing scene. 491ff. ‘Hou her quen was stole owy, / Ten ­er gon, wiþ fairy, & hou her king en exile ­ede’. 561ff ‘& hadde y-won mi quen o-wy / Out of þe lond of fairy’.

Bloch, Marc, The Historian's Craft, trans. by Peter Putnam (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1992). pp. 129ff on 'Nomenclature'.

Bloch, Maurice, ‘Language, Anthropology and Cognitive Science’, Man, 26 (1991), 183–98.

*Bloch, R. Howard, Medieval Misogyny and the Invention of Western Romantic Love (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1991). Apparently dead provocative but also exhaustive; see also Medieval Feminist Newsletter, 6 (Fall 1988) for responses to original article.

Bloch, R. Howard, The Anonymous Marie de France (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2003), ch. 2 (pp. 51–82)

*Blocker, Monica, ‘Frauenzauber—Zauberfrauen’, Zeitschrift für schweizerische Kirchengeschichte, 76 (1982), 1–39. [P62.36.c.6 SW4]

***[RQD]Blomfield, Joan, ‘The SOurce of the Cleopatra Glosses’ (Diss. Oxford, 1939).

*Bloomfield, Morton W. and Charles W. Dunn, The Role of the Poet in Early Societies (1989)

Inger M. Boberg, Motif-Index of Early Icelandic Literature, Bibliotheca Arnamagnæana, 27 (Copenhagen, 1966)

*Bodden, Mary C., ‘Evidence for Knowledge of Greek in Anglo-Saxon England’, Anglo-Saxon England, 17 (1988), 217–46.

Boffey, Julia, ‘From Manuscript to Modern Text’, in A Companion to Medieval English Literature and Culture c. 1350–c. 1500, ed. by Peter Brown, Blackwell Companions to Literature and Culture, 42 (Oxford: Blackwell, 2007), pp. 107–22

Bohannan, Laura, A genealogical charter, Journal of the International African Institute, 22 (1952), 301--15

Bohannan, Laura, 'Shakespeare in the Bush', Natural History, 75 (1966), 28-33, accessed from http://virtual.mjc.edu/bolterd/pages/Library/Shakespeare%20in%20the%20Bush.pdf

*Boivin, Jeanne-Marie, ‘Bisclavret et Muldumarec: la part de l’ombre dans les Lais’, in Amour et marveille dans les lais de Marie de France, ed. by Jean Dufournet, Collection Unichamp, 46 (Paris: Champion, 1995), pp. 145–68. Seems to be re role of male fairy-types.

`Bókhneigður banki', Morgunblaðið, 94.61 (3 March 2006), 60. (http://timarit.is/view_page_init.jsp?issId=284208&pageId=4124097&lang=is&q=B%F3khneig%F0ur%20banki; http://www.mbl.is/greinasafn/grein/1069444/)

Boklund-Lagopoulou, Karin, ‘I Have a Yong Suster’: Popular Song and the Middle English Lyric (Dublin: Four Courts Press, 2002) [E351 BOK] 153–58 brief analysis of encouters in Thomas Rhymer stuff, Wee Wee Man, Tam Lin and Inter Diabolus et Virgo, emphs place, sex, knowledge etc. But nothing so striking as to be citeworthy I don’t think.

Bolingbroke, Henry St. John, 'Reflections Upon Exile', in Letters on the Study and Use of History, 2 vols (London: Millar, 1752XXXXX), i 225–86.

*Bollard, J. K., ‘Sovereignty and the Loathly Lady in English, Welsh and Irish’, Leeds Studies in English, 17 (1986), 41-59.

Bolte, Johannes (ed.), Georg Wickrams Werke, Bibliothek des litterarischen Vereins in Stuttgart, 222–23, 229–33, 236–37, 241, 8 vols (Tübingen: Den litterarischen Verein in Stuttgart, 1901–6). [NW1 701:03.c.2.136] vii 274, book 6 cap. 9 ll. 810ff

Disen begunden weynen, klagen

Alle goett in denselben tagen

Von welden und von hohen bergen,

Auch seine brüder, de gezwergen,

Die elben und auch die elbinnen,

Deßgleichen all wassergoettinnen.

=6.392ff. ed. Miller 1974, i 314

illum ruricolae, silvarum numina, fauni

et satyri fratres et tunc quoque carus Olympus

et nymphae flerunt, et quisquis montibus illus

lanigerosque greges armentaque bucera pavit.

‘The country peoples, the sylvan deities, fauns and his brother satyrs, and Olympus, whom even then he still loved, the nymphs, all wept for him, and every shepherd who fed his woolly sheep or horned kine on those mountains’ (315).

Bone, Kerry Phytotherapy for atopic dermatitis - eczema - Phytotherapy Review & Commentary

Townsend Letter for Doctors and Patients, May, 2003 by Kerry Bone

‘* Long-term treatment with depuratives such as burdock, figwort, cleavers, yellow dock and sarsaparilla. Solanum dulcamara (bittersweet) is a depurative herb which also possesses anti-inflammatory properties. (18) Heartsease (Viola tricolor) is specifically used for infantile eczema.’

‘Before covering the herbal approach to eczema, it is useful to briefly review some of the herbal actions which are particularly relevant for dermatological conditions.

Depuratives/Alteratives

The main depuratives are Arctium lappa (burdock), Mahonia aquifolium (Oregon grape), Trifolium pratense (red clover), Galium aparine (cleavers), Rumex crisp us (yellow dock), Scrophularia nodosa (figwort), Viola tricolor (heartsease), Smilax species (sarsaparilla), Solanum dulcamara (bittersweet) and Iris versicolor (blue flag).

Bonjour, Adrien, The Digressions in 'Beowulf' (Oxford: Blackwell, 1950)

Bonser, W., ‘Magical Practices against Elves’, Folk-lore, 37 (1926), 350–63. Must as 1963 chap 9, says that chap. ‘In the 14th century medical manuscript [!!] there are two recipies which indicate elfin influence. One is, “For man or woman that is blisted with wikkede spiritis to do away the ache and abate the swellyng”; the other is, “For the elf-cake” (see supra)’ (359).

Bonser, Wilfrid, ‘The Dissimilarity of Ancient Irish Magic from that of the Anglo-Saxons’, Folk-Lore, 37 (1926), 271–88. [NF2 p464.c.37]. Utterly outdated, revolving around druicical mysteries. ‘The Christian church, however, was far from regarding the power of the druids as unreal. Similarly Ælfric represents the Emperor Decius,—though not a believer in Christianity,—as being much afraid of the drýcræft of St. Lawrence,—this word being used to denote the faith of the saint whereby he was able to endure the sufferings inflicted upon him by the emperor. It is on their malignant powers, naturally, that stress is mostly laid. An example of the infliction occurs in the story of the sick-bed of Cuculainn, where the women from the fairy hills struck him with little rods, which brought on an illness that nearly killed him. Is it possible that this should be equated with the Teutonic elf-shot?’ (275). Well well well—just luck I’m sure but fortuitous!

*Bonser, Wilfrid, ‘Survivals of Paganism in Anglo-Saxon England’, Transactions of the Birmingham Archaeological Society, 56 (1939), 37–70.

Bonser, Wilfrid, The Medical Background of Anglo-Saxon England: A Study in History, Psychology and Folklore, The Wellcome Historical Medical Library, New Series, 3 (London, 1963). ‘No learned Anglo-Saxon treatises on medicine have survived’ (3). As Cameron emphs, that’s a bit harsh. 55 re gk b’ground for elf-shot (DuBois 1999, 102). Useful survey of medical MSS 24-7. Re Lacnunga ‘the pagan element is strongest here’ (25). ‘It will be seen that the nature of the “magic” employed before and after the conversion to Christianity is to all intents and purposes one and the same’. Diseases attributed to “devils” by the Church were still attributed to elves by the common folk’ (117). ‘As the Finns turned to Christianity even later than the Scandinavians, it is possible, and profitable, to compare their magical practices with those of their Germanic neighbours’ (118).

Chap 9, ie 158-67, re ‘Elves, Elf-Shot and Nightmare’. ‘The passage in the Lacnunga // Were it Æsir shot, or Elves’ shot / Or Hag’s shot, now I will help thee. // shows the descending stages of powers—theÆsir, the smaller but still supernatural elves, and the human witch or hag.’ (158). ‘In Anglo-Saxon times diseases were erroneously attributed to many causes which were usually of a supernatural nature. The object was malevolence, with or without provocation. The evil was most usually attributed to the elves (who attacked with their arrows) or to ‘flying venom’ ’ (158). Hmm, never mind their paucity relative to other thingys… And where are these arrows coming from?! Completely unattested in ASE! Useful point that esa … ylfa … hætessan is descending order of grooviness. An element of counting-out? Shot in *OED as meaning pain etc. on its own—check out (158-9); cf. German use of Geschosz (Storms re ?#2). NB also lacn 12 (xxx), 41 (lxxv), leechb III, xxx re ‘shooting wen’. Check. Quotes Scottish shot charm from *Dalyell, Darker Superstitions of Scotland (22-3), from 1607 witchcraft case. ‘Anglo-Saxon elves are represented as small folk dwelling everywhere, but especially in waste places, where they loved to shoot at the passer-by’ (159). Represented by whom?! Ah, I see, Singer 1919-20, 357. Ho hum. Picturesque but bag o’ shite. ‘The “origin” of elf-shot occurs in the Loitsu-runoja, the magic songs of the Finns: “I’ll get to know thine origin… Elf-shots have been shot from the regions of divining [160] men, … from the trampled fields of sorcerers, … from the witchery of long-haired hags, from the distant limits of the north, from the wide country of the Lapp’ (159-60, 5a in edition cited). Okay… but what does it really say? Silently writes ofscoten as ‘ófscoten’ (160). Interesting, tho’ doesn’t match well with gescoten (585 reading). Editorial note somewhere on this idea? ‘The following Finnish charm “to still violence” is also pertinent: // With what shall I the elfshots squeeze … with what extract the sorcerer’s bolts…? Only yesterday I was in the company of smiths,…I got made for me little tongs… with which I’ll life the sorcerer’s bolts… More dreadful are a dead man’s hands… with them shall I the elfshots squeeze, tightly compress the fairy darts’ (161, 15b in ed.). 160–61 extends elf-shotinterpretation to stice! ouch!! ‘Ælfþone was so called since it was employed as a remedy for elf-disease (ælfádl)’ (163).

But: (4) the ‘water elf-disease’ (A.S. wæter [163] ælfádle, though what this was is unknown; wæter-ádl is presumably dropsy)’ (162-3). Well done! ‘Ælfthone was so called since it was employed as a remedy for elf-disease (ælfádl)’ (163); ‘Elf-dock (or elf-wort) has been identified with elecampane (helenium)’ (164) no ref except a ‘but see G&S, pp. 90-91’ (164 n. 1). ‘Elf-grass is “a kind of grass yerbwives find, and give to cattle they conceive injured by elves” ’ (164, quoted by *J. Britten and R. holland, Dictionary of English Plant-Names, p. 533).

‘A charm, when used in medicine, was regarded as a password to health. The earliest form of the charm was probably a simple command; later an epic introduction was added, such as is seen in the Merseburg charms. It was thought that the telling of a story of what had once happened in the case of gods might induce the same event to happen again for the benefit of mankind’ (241). Last sentence not daft, but 1st and 2nd pretty amazing! Also some gobsmacking credulity round here. Re Meroney 1945, ‘The most interesting [246] of the words is biran which occurs in the ‘worm charm’ in Lacnunga (10, xxvi). This he thinks to be s diminutive of the Old Irish bir, a spear. If so, it is presumably the Old Irish word for elf-shot’ (245-6).

*165-7 re dwrfs.

Boor, Helmut de, ‘Der Zwerg in Skandinavien’, in Fest Schrift: Eugen Mogk zum 70. Geburtstag 19. Juli 1924, ed. XXXX (Halle an der Saale: Niemeyer, 1924), pp. 536–57. Seems to argue, partly on grounds of genre where they appear, that dvergar are a literary thing whereas álfar are proper folk-belief. Interesting—read it!

**Boor, Helmut de, ‘Zauberdichtung’, Germanische Alterumskunde, ed. by Hermann Schneider, 346-58 (Munich, 1938).

Boor, Helmut de (ed.), Das Nibelungenlied: Nach der Ausgabe von Karl Bartsch, 20th ed. (Wiesbaden: Brockhaus, 1972)

Bordalejo, Barbara, 'The Phylogeny of the Order in the Canterbury Tales' (unpublished doctoral dissertation, New York University, 2003), accessed from http://www.bordalejo.net/theses.html 18 July 2012.

Bordman, Gerald. Motif-index of the English metrical romances / by Gerald Bordman (Helsinki: Suomalainen Tiedeakatemia, Academia Scientiarum Fennica, 1963)

Michael Borgolte, 'A Crisis of the Middle Ages? Deconstructing and Constructing European Identities in a Globalized World', in The Making of Medieval History, ed. by Graham Loud and Martial Staub (York: York Medieval Press, 2017), ISBN 9781903153703, pp. 70-84.

*Boroditsky, Lera, ‘First-language Thinking of Second-Langugae Understanding: Mandarin and English Speakers’ Conceptions of Time’, Proceedings of the Cognitive Science Society, 21 (1999), 84–89

*Boroditsky, Lera, ‘Metaphoric Structuring: Understanding Time through Spatial Metaphors’, Cognition, 75 (2000), 1–28.

*Boroditsky, Lera, ‘Does Language Shape Thought? Mandarin and English Speakers’ Conceptions of Time’, Cognitive Psychology, 43 (2001), 1–22.

Boroditsky, Lera, Lauren A. Schmidt and Webb Phillips, ‘Sex, Syntax and Semantics’, in Language in Mind: Advances in the Study of Language and Thought, ed. by Dedre Gentner and Susan Goldin-Meadow (Cambridge: MIT Press, 2003), pp. 61–79. ‘Further, how (through what cognitive mechanisms) can thinking for speaking a particular language exert influence over other types of thinking? Are some cognitive domains more susceptible to linguistic influence than others, and if so, why? For example, early work on color showed striking similarity in color memory among speakers of different languages despite wide variation in color terminology. However, research into how people conceptualize more abstract domains like time has uncovered striking crosslinguistic differences in thought. Why would there be such strong evidence for universality in color perception, but quite the opposite for thinking about time? One possibility is that language is most powerful in influencing thought for more abstract domains, that is, ones not so reliant on sensory experience. While the ability of perceive colors is heavily constrained by universals of physics and physiology, the conception of time (say, as a vertical or a horizontal medium) is not constrained by physical experience and so is free to vary across languages and cultures’ (63); citing Boroditsky 1999, 2000, 2001 relevantly.

**Borovsky, Zoe, ‘Folkdrama, Farce, and the Fornaldarsögur’, apparently an oral paper, cited by Straubhaar 2001, with Bakhtinian approaches to FSS.

Borsje, Jacqueline, From Chaos to Enemy: Encounters with Monsters in Early Irish Texts. An Investigation Related to the Process of Christianization and the Concept of Evil, Instrvmenta patristica, 29 (SteenbrugisXXXXcheck with catalogue, 1996). Buy.

*Borst, Arno, Das Turmbau von Babel. Geschichte der Meinungen über Ursprung und Vielfalt der Sprachen und Völker (Stuttgart, 1957–63), at least two vols.

*Boswell, John, Same-Sex Unions in Pre-Modern Europe

*Boswell, John, Christianity, Social Tolerance, and Homosexuality 278ff. re saracens as effeminate as well as sodomites

Boswell, John, The Kindness of Strangers: The Abandonment of Children in Western Europe from Late Antiquity to the Renaissance (New York: XXXX, 1988). I sw repr. University of Chicago Press 1998 repr. dunno if pagination’s different…

Bosworth, Joseph and T. Northcote Toller, An Anglo-Saxon Dictionary (London: Oxford University Press, 1898)., sv. of-sceótan, II, ‘Ofscoten elf-shot, diseased from an elf’s shot’. Sv. wæterælf-ald, ‘Some form of illness’. Supplements checked—Campbell gives ‘wæterælfadl’. s.v. ælf-siden ‘The influence of elves or of evil spirits, the nightmare’; s.v. ælf-sogoða ‘A disease ascribed to fairy influence, chiefly by the influence of the castalides, dúnelfen, which were considered to possess those who were suffering under the disease, a case identical with being possessed by the devil, as will appear from the forms of prayers appointed for the cure of the disease’ NB sogoða is a word denoting a disease.

*Boudriot, W., Die Altgermanische Religion (Bonn, 1928). Wood 1995 cites for brrowing of proscriptions against paganism in EME. But no page refs!

Bouman, A. C., Patterns in Old English and Old Icelandic literature, Leidse Germanistische en Anglistische Reeks, 1 (Leiden: Universitaire Pers, 1961)

*Bourke, Angela, ‘Fairies and Anorexia: Nuala Ní Dhomhnaill’s “Amazing Grass” ’, Proceedings of the Harvard Celtic Colloquium, 13 (1993), 32–35.

Bowers, John M., The Politics of ‘Pearl’: Court Poetry in the Age of Richard II (Cambridge: Brewer, 2001)

Boyer, Pascal, The Naturalness of Religious Ideas (Berkely: University of California, 1994)

*Boyer, Pascal, ‘Cognitive Aspects of Religious Ontologies: How Brain Processes Constrain Religious Concepts’, in Approaching Religion, ed. by T. Ahlbäck (Åbo, 1999), pp. 53–72.

Boyer, Pascal, ‘Evolution of the Modern Mind and the Origins of Culture: Religious Concepts as a Limiting-Case’, in Evolution of the Human Mind: Modularity, Language and Meta-Cognition, ed. by Peter Carruthers and Andrew Chamberlain (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2002), pp. 93–112

##Boyer, Régis, Le Monde du Double: La magie chez les anciens Scandinaves (Paris, 1986) XXXX re style. no index ref re elves  Speaks of silver crosses with 9 women on—interesting cf. for charms: nikonekross in Norwegian; mostly in Denmark. No specific date given  ‘En Suède et en Norvège, il s’agit surtout de croix de plomb (blykors), souvent en relations avec des enterrments. Elles sont petites—de trois à quatorze centimètres de haut—et portent toutes sortes d’inscriptions, en runes, en latin, l’une même a ADONAI. Leur caractère apotropéique (pour écarter un malheur ou un danger) semble établi. Elles ont dû souvent servir á conjurer les alfes, devenus elfes dans le folklore, ces entités surnaturelles étranges qui paraissent avoir été conçues en relations avec nos facultés mentales. Une de ces croix de plomb porte une conjuration sans équivoque: contra elphos hec in [114] plumbo scrive. En fait, il est bien difficile de trancher de la vertu de ces roix ou autres amulettes chrétiennes: conjurations magiques? ou exorcisms? Ou gages d’absolution? (ce dernier cas, par excellence, pour celles qui ont été déposées dans les tombes)’ (113-14). This form intriguing, given its ME appearance too. What’s it all about? pp. 117ff. re albruna, apparently. Actually not, tho’ they discuss –run names: ‘C’est le mot rún lui-même qui prête à confusion. il suggère une idée de secret chuchoté, de mystère, et donc de magie. L’historien got Jordanes (VIe siècle) est un des premiers responsables de cette interprétation. Il parle dans sa Getica (XXIV, 121) de magas mulieres, patrio sermone haliurunas (femmes sorcières, en /leur/ [sic] idiome national haliurunas. Ce dernier terme a depuis longtemps attiré l’attention des spécialistes, haliurunas renvoie évidentement à helrún, sorcières, tout comme le vieux haut allemand connaît, pour sorcellerie, un helliruna. Entendons que les sorcières en question connaîtraient les secrets, les “runes” de Hel (gotique halja) qui désigne le royaume des morts’ (117). [461:4.c.95.168 NF2] Also suggests generic switching in Orkneyinga saga, jómsvíkinga saga as mark of earlynss. hmm.

Boyer, Régis, ‘Einheri and valkyrja, which is the sex of the hero in the North?’, in Gudar på jorden: festskrift till Lars Lönnroth, ed. by Stina Hansson and Mats Malm (Stockholm, 2000), pp. 34–43. But some interesting points thus: ‘Finally we come t the genuine Scandinavian-Germanic hero, that is to say Sigurðr Fáfnisbani. As everybody knows, he is not a convincing hero, although everybody was convinced he was the paragon of a hero! The way he kills Fáfnir the dragon is not particularly admirable! If he clears the passage of the wall of fire, it is thanks to his horse, Grani! And his death is notoriously ignominious, either he is killed from behind in a forest, or—which is particularly unglorious—in his bed! However, there is no doubt that he is the hero. This is one thing. The other is the great number of women with whom his story is connected. In a way, it is permissible to declare that Brynhildr or Guðrún are, if one may say so, more heroic than he is!’ (42). Apparently he has more on this in some French book, no page nos cited. 34–35 NBs how much gender trouble there is in Norse mythology, contrast with Gk. Guess this may even be worth citing, tho’ am reluctant to ‘cos he’s so rubbish.

Boyer, Regis XXXXspell?, ‘On Toki the Scandinavian’, Arv, 56 (2000), 25-34. Some interesting stuff re magic of bows, arrows etc. Might give some insight re that whole smith business in wiþ fær. Intimate connection of smithery with magic? As with dwarves, Welund? Bronze age rock carvings (Swedish hällristingar), i.e. 1800-400 BC, ‘present in the whole North’; ‘Now, if there is a motif which appears frequently on these rocks, it is the archer, either alone and standing, or skiing. The last point is important … It is a recurrent theme since we stil find it, in the sixteenth century, among the famous drawings illustrating the Swede Olaus Magnus’s works’ (25). ‘As for the rock carvings, it happens that those hunters on their skis are not human beings, they may be animals’ (26). ‘Let us notice, for the moment, that the bow belongs to a set of themes: swiftness (the skis) and lucky hunting’ (26)—this seems rather an assumption tho. Some waffle too re Samis inventing skis and being the original settlers of the North, ho hum… (26). NO REFS! Völundarkviða collocates Slagfinnr/Slagfiðr (‘which we may understand as the Sámi who deals blows, the pugnacious Sámi’, 26), Egill ‘who is everywhere described as a great archer’ (everywhere but here, no?) (26), and all three hunting on skis and linked with valkyries/swan-maidens. ‘We thus find here a link between bow and skis and the magical connotations … that we saw at the beginning of this little study’ (26)—ah, the one that you assumed with no refs or discussion. NBs franks casket; reckons ægili scene to be ‘studded with small round objects which could be apples!’ (26).

Saxo has re Toko Bk X (and mention in XIV) (26-7). Apple shooting thing, and skiing feat; shoots Haraldr blátönn in the end. ‘From these four documents, at least four points can be deduced. // First, there is the extraordinary shot of the arrow with the premonitory trick against the king, in case of failure: little by little, the myth has accordingly progressed toward the “Swiss” aspect of the story [! “the myth”, this man is a bit odd]. // Then comes the prowess on skis, both facts—the shot of the arrow and the prowess on skis—being put into relationship with the ddrunkenness (the “madness” [No! Neither mentioned, no is drunkenness explicitly present in skiing bit, according to the slab Boyer presents]) of the hero, which is a source of boasting, the last one being itself the cause of the rest of the tale. // [28] Thirdly, there is the regicide, and Book XIV does not add at random that Toko was the first Christian in his family; we shall come to that later. // We have equally noticed that Saxo, who is a treasury of traditions which, generally, he no longer understood or which seemed to him so firmly established that he did not feel the need to explain them, gives Toko as the son of Slag, whose name curiously recalls Slag(fiðr), Egill’s borhter, Völundr’s brother! So, the reliability of this tradition does not seem to need questioning. One more detail: for Saxo, Toko, Toko Trolle, Toko Stotte are identical expressions. Assuredly, trolle conveys an idea of witchcraft, of magic, and Stotte could suggest some haughtiness, some insane pride … Let us conclude on this point and note that Saxo tells us that the toko story is “very old” ’ (27-8).

Jómsvíkinga saga ch. 10, Pálnatoki (Boyer: ‘the Toki of the Poles’ 28) shoots Haraldr blátönn in rump and kills him (28-9). Analogues in Hemingr too, esp Hemings þáttr Áslákssonar (29). 29-32 mad interpretation section, all sorts of waffle; but: ‘This myth, which will later give birth to the story of William Tell, seems to me to offer first a “sporting” valency in close connection with hunting’; ‘the politico-religious valency (here, Christian) is far more evident. In a way, it is this valeny that will ensure the popularity, unexpected in itself, of this myth in Switzerland. Toko-Toki-Hemingr is the man, the hero who dares face the tyrant, defy him, defet him, kill him indeed’; ‘We feel, hwoever, that, as has just been suggested, a set of themes, religious once more, but far deeper, is governing this myth. And it explains why I want to insist more on the pagan-magical valency of this tale’ (30)—oh dear. Still, the 2nd point was pretty good, until he went a bit strange over it (30). Goes for idea that old scand religion privileged fertility over war, vs., he reckons, all the French. sounds okay to me, tho’ he drifts when emphasising Þórr as character who raises goats from the dead etc, apples as fertility symbols… (30-31); tho’ NB that ‘Archaeology has found a lot of apples or nuts, very often in great numbers, in graves, which is a sign of their eschatological value’ (31 NO REF!).

Well into hemingr as hamr + ingr and related to shape-changers etc. etymology seems fair enough (31-2 for argument) and follows Nils Lid, 1946, Hemingtradisjonen with no p. no.! This man is CRAP. toki as madman which apparently is it transparent meaning (32). ‘In this way, I think, we are justified in interpreting this myth. If, as is possible, William Tell’s figure has imposed itelf in Switzerland from the Uri conton which was colonized by Germanic tribes, we have, in that case, the result of an Indo-European myth that has been wandering for a very long time’ (32).

Summarizes tale-type as ‘a tyrant facing a hero who is a great sportsman, but a mad one, and on whom he imposes an unthinkable exploit that the hero accomplishes, after which he eliminates the tyrant’ (33). Adduces interesting and undeniably very similar story from Herodotus III, 35 (assuming he’s reported it accurately…) (33). Prexaspes, after shooting king’s son thru heart, says ‘ “Master, I do not believe that the god himself could have hit so precisely”. I have underlined “the god himself” because the question is to know who is envisaged here. And the answer is certainly easy. The supreme god of the Persians was the sun (Herodotus calls him Apollo because, of course, he feels obliged to Hellenize him) whose “arrows” (the rays) never miss their target, whatever it might be’ (33). Hmm. All of that is inferred, and it doesn’t strike me as being at all like the norse stuff; Boyer has even inverted the roles of Prexaspes and Cambyses as they appear in Grene’s trans.! ARRRGH! Links then with Skaði, apparently assoc with sun and giving name to Scandinavia (*Skaðin-auja); ‘And is it by chance that Skaði is depicted everywhere as a great archer and sportswoman? // [34] This allows me, I suppose, to conclude that Toko, Toke, Hemingr and others could quite simply be solar heroes’ (33-4). Ah, the madness of him. But this is an interesting collocation re elves, no? welund assoc with archer, elves, sami; elves with sun; Skaði with bow. Hmm. Find out re Skaði anyway. Cf. Tolkien’s elves being into bows? But that could come via the robin hood tradition too etc.

Boyes, Roger, Meltdown Iceland: Lessons on the World Financial Crisis from a Small Bankrupt Island (New York: Bloomsbury, 2009). 'In the old days, feudal lords controlled whole villages, effectively owned the inhabitants, their harvest, their fish catch. “Now we are seeing a rampant re-feudalization on a supra-territorial level that replaces ownership of land with access to privileged information, to luxury and to the political elites,” says the moral philosopher Peter Sloterdijk.' (61) Like neomedievalism, but this time with the rich, not with terrorists. Which makes the backward east start to look rather more attractive: like being in a nice torfbæ in Skrautadal. 'In some ways the Octopus resembles the old mafia structures of Sicily---but without the crime'.

Brady, Caroline, ‘ “Warriors” in Beowulf: An Analysis of the Nominal Compounds and an Evaluation of the Poet’s Use of them’, Anglo-Saxon England, 11 (1983), 199–246.

Bradley, Richard, An Archaeology of Natural Places (London: Routledge, 2000). A cool book but not of particular use for PhD cos it doesn’;t have enough about supernatural beings.

Braekman, Willy L., ‘Notes on Old English Charms’, Neophilologus, 64 (1980), 461-9 [P700.c.135 NW2]. Concept in 9 herbs charm that beneficent herbs come from God supported (found in 9twigs one that follows and needs to be counted with 9 herbs to make 9). Earliest ev he sez in C9/10 charmVienna, National Library, Cod. 751, olim Theol. 259. Vs storms (p. 195) that Xian reviser invents Xian origin for beneficent powers (462, 462-3 generally). regenmelde ‘great proclamation’ would then be God’s making the herbs beneficent. Cf. idea of mine of conversion as new beginning in human relations with natural world. wise lord creating herbs as he hung in 9 twigs—sounds like Óðinn in Hávalmál (463). May have been Xianised then (463-4). Then re Lacn CLXI, Gif hors bið gewræht, with charm ‘Naborrede unde uenisti’ and ‘Credidi propter’ (latter vulgate psalm 115) (465). Argues Naborrede as nabo ‘voracity’ + rede ‘fever’. Perhaps a bit more on the attestations, esp for OE, would help. But sounds okay (465-6). Symptoms of appropriate horsy illness due to overeating grain etc. 466-7. Thus ‘Naborrede, whence came thee?’ Links with MHG horse charm, corrupt & vernacular, with similar question—but also ‘sod off where you came from’ clause (467-8), which he takes as implied here (468).

Bragg, Lois, ‘The Modes of the Old English Metrical Charms: The Texts of Magic’, in New Approaches to Medieval Textuality, ed. by Mikle David Ledgerwood, Studies on Themes and Motifs in Literature, 28 (New York, 1998), pp. 117–40. Calls all medical text etc. ‘charms’. Irritating. Uses citation form Esa re Wið fær (ah, but apparently following Kennedy) and says that ‘faer is a sudden attack by armed raiders’ (134). Makes you worry. Otherwise didn’t say anything useful to me. has both ‘If there is a piece of iron in here, / the work of a witch’ and ‘or a shot of witches’ (134).

Bragg, Lois, ‘Runes and Readers: In and Around The Husband’s Message’, Studia Neophilologica, 71 (1999), 34–50. 34-37 emphs how hard it is uto understand HBM runes. Identity, etc. ‘Ralph W. V. Elliott’s romantic readings of the poem’s runic passage, such as “FOllow the sun’s path across the sea to find joy with the man who is waiting for you”, are so often cited as definitive that their diregard for the fundamental principles of the runic writing system seems to have escaped scrutiny by nearly everyone except Page’ (36). ‘The verbs and prepositions in such as “slightly expanded” version are produced out of thin air, there being no reason for selecting these verbs and prepositions over others that would produce an entirely different meaning’ (38). Tho’ I’d still buy Begriffsrunen rare (36). Dead into ludic alphabets, medieval scholarly messing about 38-41; ‘That the Exeter Book’s public would have been able to solve the runic passage in The Husbna;ds Message as a cryptogram is therefore likely, although the possibilities remain that it is either faulty or fake’ (40). Sensibly unhappy about beam as rune-stve: implies tree or shaped trunk of tree (41). ‘This is not to say that runic writing could not appear on a larger staff that served some other purpose [than sending a message, ‘communication’]. In fact, there are such examples: the ca. 800 stick from Hedeby that bears a fuþark (Moltke Runes 193), a fifty-centimeter round stick that bears a charm, written in runes, against an unidentified disease, along with pictures and a message in an unsolves (and otherwise unexemplified) cunieform cryptography (ibid. 352-53)…’ (41). Ooh! But I still wonder if this could be a beam. Rightly points out that we’ve no ev. for runes as communication in ASE—or even Viking Dublin where you have good preservation conditions (42-44). But thoroughly fixated with the communication idea. Into an assoc with runes and death (memorial) (44). ‘Other readers of The Husband’s Message have sensed death in the poem, specifically a dead lord sending to his lady to join him on the other side. The lord’s sigeþeode, ‘victory people’, do sound much like the Old Norse sigrþioð [sic], “the ‘comitatus’ of the einheriar in Valhalla” (Bouman [Patterns…] 65). No explanation of runes, which I guess is fair enough.

Branston, Brian, The Lost Gods of England (London: Thames and Hudson, 1957)

Brantlinger, Patrick, Dark Vanishings: Discourse on the Extinction of Primitive Races, 1800-1930 (Cornell UP 2003). Looked at only on Google Books--check proper ref. ' "Makanna's Gathering",a poem by Pringle about the 1819 frontier war, was even more provocative, at least for one colonialist critic, who [84] thought it had helped to inspire the Xhosas to go to war in 1834-35. This accusation, based on the absurd notion that the Xhosas could somehow have read and been influenced by Pringle's poem, suggests howmuch animosity and paranoia there was, at least by the time of the 1834-35 war, toward humanitarianism in general. First published in the Oriental Herald in 1827 under the title "War Song of Makanna", Pringle's poem represents the prophet-chief of the 1819 rebellion awakening the "Amakósa" (or Xhosas) to "arm yourselves forwar ... To sweep the White Men from the earth, And drive them to the sea" (35, 100). Writing in the Graham's Town Journal in 1835, the critic declares:

Not the most zealous "Makanna", nor the most ferocious Kafir [sic] chief ... could have spirited up his countrymen in the remorseless warfare of revenge and extermination more effectually or more earnestly than has this ungrateful viper, Mr. Thomas Pringle. What! a Briton! and one who is the conspicuous organ of all the real or apparent philanthropists of the day ... good God!'

Braune, Wilhelm (ed.), Althochdeutsches Lesebuch, 15th edn by Ernst A. Ebbinghaus (Tübingen: Niemeyer, 1969)

Braune, Wilhelm, Althochdeutsche Grammatik, 14th rev. ed. by Hans Eggers, Sammlung kurzer grammatiken germanischer dialekte, 5 (Tübingen, 1987).

*Braunmüller, Kurt and Willy Diercks (eds), Niderdeutsch und die skandinavischen Sprachen I (Heidelberg: Winter, 1993)

Braunmüller, Kurt, `Forms of Language Contact in the Area of the Hanseatic League: Dialect Contact Phenomena and Semicommunication', Nordic Journal of Linguistics, 19 (1996), 141--54. Rather generic/theoretical, short on specific examples or primary analyses--catalogues forms of bilingualism/semi-communication, but I'm not clear how far it gets us. Might be worth coming back to when looking for paradigms for data.

Braunmüller, Kurt, `Receptive Multilinguialism in Northern Europe in the Middle Ages: A Description of a Scenario', in Receptive Multilingualism, Hamburg Studies on Multilingualism, 6 XXXXX, pp. 25--. Seems to summarise B's three big projects over the last 15 years. Should have a hany bibl. Seems here (not in 1996) to see 'receptive multilingualism' as a better alternative to Haugen's 'semi-communication' (26). To be honest I'm not sure what either means, but it seems to be about being able to understand but not produce another language/language variety. Seems rather creaky at times--rather old-fashioned ideas/views of research problems/moments of prescriptivism, in rather waffly intro on receptive multilingualism, lingua francas etc. Basically worth picking over this after writing up article to get material to dis/frameworks for interpretation. Some interesting primary analysis on articles though. Last para: 'receptive multilingualism also represents a starting point for second-language acquisition, especially for adults. Therefore, it is important to investigate the principles and strategies of receptive multilingualism than has been the case until now. Medieval northern Europe and present-day Scandinavia represent excellent fields for further investigations' (43).

*Braunmüller in Nordic Languages and Modern Linguistics (10. : 1998 : Reykjavík): The Nordic Languages and Modern Linguistics : proceedings of the tenth International Conference of Nordic and General Linguistics : University of Iceland, June 6-8, 1998 / edited by Gudrún Thórhallsdóttir. Reykjavík : Málvísindastofnun Háskóla Íslands, 2000. 4. hæð 401.06 Nor

Braunmüller, Kurt, `Language Contact During the Old Nordic Period I: With the British Isles, Frisia and the Hanseatic League', in The Nordic Languages: An International Handbook of the History of the North Germanic Languages, ed. by Oskar Bandle and others, Handbücher zur Sprach- and Kommunikationswissenschaft, 22, 2 vols (Berlin: de Gruyter, 2002--5), i pp. 1028-XXXXX. `The interlinguistic relations within the Gmc-speaking parts of the Baltic and beyond were based on mutual intelligibility and receptive multilingualism. This form of communication has also been called semicommunication ... Therefore, a Swede or a Dane may have considered MLG a potential or quasi-dialect of his/her own linguistic system and would consequently understand what the Hanseatic merchant wanted to say' (1036). The real detail on this subject is in the companion article in vol 2.

Braunmüller, Kurt, `Language Contacts in the Late Middle Ages and Early Modern Times', in The Nordic Languages: An International Handbook of the History of the North Germanic Languages, ed. by Oskar Bandle and others, Handbücher zur Sprach- and Kommunikationswissenschaft, 22, 2 vols (Berlin: de Gruyter, 2002--5), ii pp. 1222-33. 'It has sometimes been reported that letters, messages and documents written in Latin had to be translated in order to be understood by the general public. But no information has been found yet to suggest that Low German texts usually had to be interpreted in Scandi[1228]navia in order to be understood ... Generally, hardly any comments are to be found concerned with questions of problems of multilingual communities during this period. The only reasonable explanation for this remarkable fact seems to be that it was not worth mentioning because it was the normal or default situation: if problems occurred, they must have been treated as the result of different points of view or antagonistic interests but obviously not by a failure of communication due to a multilingual/dialectal situation. Therefore, we have very good reasons to suppose that direct, interdialectal communication worked quite well between genetically closely related languages/dialects in the Hanseatic sphere' (1227-28)

Bray, Dorothy Ann, a List of Motifs in the Lives of the Early Irish Saints, Folklore Fellows communications 252 (Helsinki: Suomalainen Tiedeakatemia 1992) [theol JD1580 BRA]

Bredehoft, Thomas A., ‘Ælfric and Late Old English Verse’, Anglo-Saxon England, 33 (2004), 77–107.

Thomas A. Bredehoft, Early English Metre (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2005)

Bredsdorff, Thomas, Chaos & Love: The Philosophy of the Icelandic Family Sagas, trans. by John Tucker (Copenhagen: Museum Tusculanum Press, 2001). Check original in library cats, copyright page gives Kaos og kærlighed (Copenhagen, 1971, 1995), which isn’t enormously helpful.

*Breeze, Andrew, ‘Old English Trum “Strong”, Truma “Host”: Welsh Trwm “Heavy” ’, Notes and Queries, 40 (238) XXXX (1993), 16–19.

Breeze, Andrew 1997. Old English Wann, ‘Dark; Pallid’: Welsh Gwann ‘Weak; Sad, Gloomy’. ANQ 10: 10–13.

Breeze, Andrew, ‘Seven Types of Celtic Loanword’, in The Celtic Roots of English, ed. by Markku Filppula, Juhani Klemola and Heli Pitkänen, Studies in Languages, 37 (Joensuu: University of Joensuu, Faculty of Humanities, 2002), pp. 175–81

Breeze, Andrew, 'Britons in West Derby Hundred, Lancashire', Northern History, 44 (2007), 199–203

Breeze, Andrew, 'Bede's Hefenfeld and the Campaign of 633', Northern History, 44 (2007), 193–97.

Bremmer, Rolf H. Jr., ‘The Importance of Kinship: Uncle and Nephew in Beowulf’, Amsterdamer Beiträge zur älteren Germanistik, 15 (1980), 21–38. Mainly surveys ev. for the importance of sister’s son in ASE and shows importance in Bwf esp. re likelihood that Wiglaf stands in this relation to Bwf.

Bremmer, Rolf H., ‘The Old Frisian Component in Holthausen’s Altenglisches etymologisches Wörterbuch’, Anglo-Saxon England, 17 (1988), 5–13.

*“Widows in Anglo-Saxon England.” In L. van den Berg and J. Bremmer (eds.), Between Poverty and the Pyre: Moments in the History of Widowhood. London and New York: Routledge. 58–88. 1995.

Bremmer, Rolf H., ‘The Anglo-Saxon Pantheon According to Richard Verstegen (1605)’, in The Recovery of Old English: Anglo-Saxon Studies in the Sixteenth and Seventeenth Centuries, ed. by Timothy Graham (Kalamazoo, 2000), pp. 141-72. ‘he flatly ignore Tacitus’s information that the Germans “nec cohibere parietibus deos neque in ullam humani oris speciem adsimulare ex magnitudine caelestium arbitrantur” (“do not think it in keeping with the divine majesty to confine gods within the walls or to portray them in the likeness of any human countenance”), Germania 9.3 (148). Caesar, De Bello Gallico VI, 21 claims celestial bodies to be worshipped by Germans (156, n. 32)

Brenner, Oscar (ed.), Speculum regale: Ein altnorwegischer Dialog nach Cod. Arnamagn. 243 Fol. B und den ältesten Fragmenten (Munich: Kaiser, 1881)

Brett, Cyril, ‘Notes in Passages of Old and Middle English’, Modern Language Review, 14 (1919), 1-9. ‘A. G. Little, Studies in English Franciscan History (1917) p. 230 (extract from the Franciscan Fasciculus Morum, v. 26, between 1272 and 1400, perhaps before 1340) De uictoria fidei: “apud Elvelond, ubi iam, ut dicunt, manent illi fortissimi athlethe, scilicet Onewone [so MS. Eton 34, f. 69: MS. Bodl. 410, f. 71, Unewyn] et Wade…” ’ (1).

Brewer, Charlotte, Editing `Piers Plowman': The Evolution of the Text, Cambridge Studies in Medieval Literature, 28 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996)

Brewster, Paul G., ’The Foundation Sacrifice Motif in Legend, Folksong, Game, and Dance’, Zeitschrift für Ethnologie, 96 (1971, 71–89; repr. in The Walled-Up Wife: A Case-Book, ed. by Alan Dundes (Madison, WI, 1996), pp. 35–62. [464:6.c.95.20 NF2] Nothing that’s really relevant to Merlin story except v. indirectly.

Bridges, Margaret, ‘Of Myths and Maps: The Anglo-Saxon Cosmographer’s Europe’, in Writing and Culture, ed. by Balz Engler, SPELL: Swiss Papers in English Language and Literature, 6 (Tübingen: Narr, 1992), pp. 69–84. Utter waffle.

**Brie, Maria, ‘Der germanische, insbesondere der englische Zauberspruch’, Mitteilungen der Schlesischen Gesellschaft für Volkskunde, 8, 2 XXXX (1906), 1-36.

Briem, Ólafur, Vanir og Æsir, Studia Islandica, 21 (Reykjavík, 1963). Haddingjar as blokes with woman’s hairdo, like feminised priest figures 258–59 to explain why it’s the heardingas who ‘ðone hæle nemdun’ in Rune Poem Ing.

[Another respect in which vanir might have had a different significance from that in Snorri’s mythography is suggested by Briem’s arguments (1963). Briem effectively re-shaped the long-standing idea of the vanir as a more ancient cult, overlain by the æsir cult of later invaders of Scandinavia (on which see Näsström 1995, 61–62), to argue that place-name and other evidence suggested that vanir-cults were the deeper-rooted in medieval Scandinavia, and that the gods conventionally known as the æsir—particularly Óðinn, Týr and Þórr—were concepts characteristic of the West-Germanic-speaking areas, which were subsequently adopted by progressively more northerly Germanic-speaking communities. This argument may be unprovable. It seems clear that pagan mythologies developed considerably in the centuries preceding the conversion of Scandinavia to Christianity, but while variation in the mythologies is clear in our texts, it is hard to equate this with chronological strata. Moreover, part of Briem’s argument was ex silentio, being based on the idea that there is no evidence for the vanir-gods among the West-Germanic-speaking peoples (1963, XXXX). In a limited sense, this is true, and it is certainly plausible to see the Roman frontier as a culturally (and linguistically) innovative zone in the Germanic-speaking world, with developments in this area influencing more northerly regions more slowly (see Carl PhD XXXX). But the point ignores the difficulty of confidently identifying cognatess of Freyr and Freyja in West Germanic place-names as theophoric (see for Old English Gelling 1961, XXXX; see further below, TTTT), and the distinct possibility that similar gods were known in this area by different names (which is a corollary of my discussion below). Accordingly, North (1997, esp. XXXX) has recast this kind of argument to place Ing, a counterpart of Freyr, at the centre of Anglo-Saxon paganism, as Briem placed the vanir at the centre of earlier Scandinavian paganism, with figures like Woden and Þunor being conceived as more peripheral figures, the prominence of the Scandinavian counterparts Óðinn and Þórr in our sources being the result of later developments; while the appearance of words like wuldor and XXXX as the god-names Ullr and XXXX in Scandinavia is taken as an example of the same processes. Although many of North’s arguments are unconvincing or inadmissible (see for example below, TTTT, TTTT), he has provided a valuable alternative model to Snorri’s pantheon-based mythography for interpreting the evidence for pre-conversion Anglo-Saxon beliefs.]

Briggs, Katherine, The Fairies in English Tradition and Literature (London, 1967) [1991.8.351]. Mainly too late for me. But has Walter Map, Geoffrey of Monmouth, Gerald of Wales, Gervase of Tilbury (esp. Otia Imperialia III), Ralph of Coggeshall (Rolls series 66, pp. 66, 120-1), William of Newburgh, Orfeo, Marie de France, Huon of Bordeaux (EETS 1883-7, i, 73). That survey’s pp. 4-10. ASC 1127. Orderic.

Briggs‚ K. M.‚ ‘The Fairies and the Realms of the Dead’‚ Folklore‚ 81 (1970)‚ 81-96. Guinever and Lancelot in Orfeo-type story, she argues; Mallory XIX §1. ‘…it has been suggested that Sir Meliagrance, theson of King Bagdemagus, was a king of the Underworld. If this were so it would bring Guinevere and Meroudys [=Heroudys] into some connection’ (82). Cfs Midir and Etain (84)—king tries to protect woman from being nicked but she’s got anyway. Rather frustrating tour of various bits of folklore, very few refs at all. Probably be worth another look and a ref if you get into elfs-as-the-dead territory. Also NB Romance of Thomas of Ercildoune. Ballads also. Might be useful.

*Briggs, K. M., The Fairies in Tradition and Literature [Uc.7.5810]

*Briggs, Katharine M., The Vanishing People: A Study of Traditional Fairy Beliefs (1978), 31 re lost children of eve story in Scotland.

*Briggs, Robin, Witches and Neighbours: The Social and Cultural Context of European Witchcraft, 2nd ed. (Oxford, 2002).

Brink, Stefan, ‘Home: The Term and the Concept from a Linguistic and Settlement-Historical Viewpoint’, in The Home: Words, Interpretations, Meanings, and Environments, ed. by David N. Benjamin (Aldershot: Avebury, 1995), pp. 17–24. Just brief look at cognates and place names, not much punch. This is kind of a cool collection, BTW—something to come back to.

Brink, Stefan, ‘Political and Social Structures in Early Scandinavia’, Tor, 28 (1996), 235–81. Re his model of typic (Swedish-based) central place toponymy, ‘Four theophoric place-names occur, indicating a probably division into two different chronological layers, an older one represented by the goddess †Njärd’s stav “staff” and the god Ull’s åker “arable land”, and a presumably younger name-pair, the goddess Fröja’s berg “hillock” and the god Frö’s lund “grove”. The occurrence of such name-pairs, with female and male pagan divinities found in the names of places close by [242] each other, cannot, in my opinion, be explained away. This kind of theophoric name-pair probably had some significance for the pagan fertility cult and very often occurs in a central-place context’ (241–42). 242 mentions Bwf and poetic edda hall stuff, et passim actually. 247–48 re Uppsala templum, arguing that although usually so called, the one instance of triclinium is the crucial thing; n. 1 (text on p. 274) ascribes this to a pers comm from François-Xavier Dillmann.

Brink, Stefan, ‘Political and Social Structures in Early Scandinavia ii: Aspects of Space and Territoriality—the Settlement District’, Tor, 29 (1997), 389–437.

*Brink, S., ‘Social Order in the Early Scandinavian Landscape’, in Settlement and Landscape: Proceedings of a Conference in Århus, Denmark, May 4–7 1998, ed. by C. Fabech and J. Ringtved (Højbjerg, 1999), pp. 423–38.

*Brink, S., ‘Fornskandinavisk religion—förhistoriskt samhälle: en bosättningshistorisk studie av centralorder i Norden’, in Religion och samhälle i det förkristna Norden: et symposium, ed. by U. Drobin XXXX (Odense, 1999), 11–55.

*Brink, Stephan, ‘Social Order in the Early Scandinavian Landscape’, in Settlement and Landscape ed. Fabech etc (1999)

Brink, Stephan, ‘Mythologizing Landscape: Place and Space of Cult and Myth’, in Kontinuitäten und Brüche in der Religionsgeschichte: Festschrift für Anders Hultgård zu seinen 65. Geburtstag am 23.12.2001 in Verbindung mit Olof Sundqvist und Astrild van Nahl, ed. by Michael Strausberg, Ergänzungsbände zum Reallexicon der Germanischen Altertumskunde, 31 (Berlin: de Gruyter, 2001), pp. 76–112. ‘In historical times, we in the western world have transformed nature and landscape (i.e. the cultural landscape) from an essentially existential “partner”, charged with mythical cultic, numinous and socializing places of memory, places that people had a “religious” relation with, into economic entities, containers of resources, of raw material, that we can use or rather misuse in an [sic] unilateral way’ (81). Suggests Xianity brings division of profane and holy, changes rel. with lnadscape (81–83); Gk interaction with natural/divine world 83–85. ‘A religion may either bind people to a place or free them from it. The pagan religion of Scandinavia was obviously of the former kind’ (86). Xianity ‘cut off the chains to the earth and to the heimat’ (86). Buys into big distinction between upper and lower deities, álfar among the lower. Hmm. Eminently citable re mythologised character of landscape, proximity of divine, lack of distinction between natural and divine etc. ‘We have a most interesting case in Sweden, in which a large forest may be interpreted as ‘the forest where the gods dwell’ or something like that, namely the large borderalnd called Tiveden, situated between the provinces of Västergötland and Närke’ (100). < tívar he argues.

Brits, Baylee and Prudence Gibson, 'Introduction: Covert Plants' 'Although we can’t ‘speak plant,’ we can seize the opportunity to interrogate the absence of an appropri[13]ate lexicon to discuss the vegetal world. We can envisage a future where plants lead us to new models of thinking, better solutions, better collaborations and better adaptive potentials. As Michael Marder and Luce Irigaray suggest in their 2016 book Through Vegetal Being, we can give our writing back to plants. 5 This is plant writing: an openness to sentience, sapience, and forms of life that are distinctly botanical' (12-13). 'Plants are no longer the passive object of contemplation, but are increasingly resembling ‘subjects,’ ‘stakeholders,’ or ‘performers.’ The plant now makes unprecedented demands upon the nature of contemplation itself' (13).

Brockelmann, Carl, History of the Arabic Written Tradition, trans. by Joep Lameer, Handbook of Oriental Studies. Section 1 The Near and Middle East, 117, 5 vols in 6 (Leiden: Brill, 2016-19), III (=Supplement Volume 1) p. 88; {{ISBN|978-90-04-33462-5}} [trans. from ''Geschichte der Arabischen Litteratur'', [2nd edn], 2 vols (Leiden: Brill, 1943-49); ''Geschichte der arabischen Litteratur. Supplementband'', 3 vols (Leiden: Brill, 1937-42)].

Brodeur, Arthur Gilchrist, The Art of ‘Beowulf’ (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1959)

Broedel, Hans Peter, The ‘Malleus maleficarum’ and the Construction of Witchcraft: Theology and Popular Belief (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2003). 91–121 ch. 5 ‘Witchcraft: the formation of belief I’. ‘From rumors, memorates, and denunciations and confessions couched in traditional terms, Institoris and Sprenger constructed their image of witchcraft. As inquisitors and priests they were uniquely well positioned to hear an astonishing range of opinion and narrative concerning witches, and were equally obliged to make sense of it all. The witch-beliefs of the Malleus draw heavily upon traditional beliefs and previously constituted categories which Institoris and Sprenger reinterpreted in a manner consistent with a theologically Thomist view of the world. The success of this project was due less to their theological sophistication and rigorous logic (neither of which is especially evident), than to their sensitivity to the world picture of their informants. They did not simply demonise popular belief, but tried instead to reconstruct it for their own purposes. Their picture of witchcraft was successful precisely because iit corresponded so closely with the ideas of the less well educated. Other demonologists treated witchcraft as a sect, worse than, but otherwise similar to, other heresies; because of their epistemological and metaphysical assumptions, however, Istitoris and Sprenger understood witchcraft much more as did the common man, as part of a spectrum of human interaction with preternatural and supernatural powers. For this reason, althjough the model of witchcraft in the Malleus is certainly a composite, constructed from several different but interrelated idea-clusters, the fit between this model and supranormal events as they were reported was closer than the [101] competing models of other learned observers, and was thus more persuasive’ (100–101). Re women riding out etc. 101–115. ‘Although they are scattered over several centuries, taken together these accounts suggest a reasonably consistent body of belief, closely related to the [104] rural European “fairy cults” described by nineteenth and twentieth-century folklorists. In its medieval form, the tradition centred upon a belief in troops of spectral women, led by some specific but variously named mistress, which visited houses at certain times of the year and brought either good fortune or ill, depending on the their reception. These beings might also determine a person’s fate at birth, and claimed a certain number of people, sometimes up to a third of humanity, as their own. Those chosen, who appear to have been mainly women, accompanied the trouping “fairies” on their rounds, paid court to their mistress, and attended their revels’ (103–104).

Sven Grén Broberg (ed.), Rémundar saga keisarasonar, Samfund til udgivelse af gammel nordisk litteratur, 38 (Copenhagen: Møller, 1909--12)

Brogan, Hugh (ed.), Signalling from Mars: The Letters of Arthur Ransome (London: Cape, 1997)

*Brøgger, N. C., ‘Frøya-dyrkelse og seid’, Viking, 15 (1951), XXXX.

Bromwich, Rachel, ‘Celtic Dynastic Themes and the Breton Lays’, Études Celtiques, 9 (1960–61), 439–74. Re Marie de France. Basically re loathly lady motif; sees it as an original Celtic sovereignty goddess thing (flaitheas na h-Eirenn ‘the sovereignty of Ireland’): Echtra mac n-Echach ‘The adventure of the sons of Eochaid Mugmedón’ and Cóir Anmann ‘The fitness of names’ episode re name Lugaid Láigde (445), summaries 446-48. NB the first has separente incident interpolated (she says): Mongfind the queen ‘has expressed a wish that the inheritance should be decided, and the task of doing so is entrusted to the smith Sithchenn. He sets fire to his forge: each pf the brothers saves some object from the fire, but it is Níall who brings out the essential anvil and bellows. The sith pronounces obscure prophecies about each of the brothers, which are suggested by the nature of their burdens’ (447) interesting comparison for Völundr? Both have hunt followed by finding loathly lady.

‘A relationship between the Irish stories of the Transformed Sovereignty and the English poems in which this theme is attached variously to Gawain or to an idefinite or un-named character can admit little doubt. In its essentials the story is the same although … in all the English [453] versions as they have come down the original significance of the Sovereignty theme has inevitably ceased to be recognised, and so a fresh explanation for the heroine’s transformation has been introduced’ (453). Hohum. Reckon it’s echoed in Perceval continuations. Unparalled bit of Peredur with 3 versions of Peredur’s fight with monster ‘variously called sarff ‘serpent’, pryf ;worm’, and addanc, perhaps ‘water-monster’ ’ (457) sees undoubted fairy-mistress’ in the last. Assoc in text with India/Constaninople, ‘thin disguises for her Otherworld origin’ (457 n. 3). Citing Jones and Jones ?trans 203-17. Suggests that she may even have been the addanc—cf. serpent form of mistress in Walter’s Henno-cum-Dentibus (457, n. 4). ‘In mediaeval sources these [Melusine] stories tend to have dynastic connotations’ (457, n. 4). 458-60 names in Peredur-Perceval material and analogues suggesting dynastic origin legends lying behind them. ‘Since the Tranformed Hag is a receding figure, only faintly delineated, in the versions just considered, it is the less surprising to find that elsewhere in Old French literature the Chase of the Hite Stag has survived in isolation as a preliminary to adventures of a similar kind to those introduced by the combined motives’ (460) hmm… Reckons Graelent most conservative of Breton lays—just like lanfal in plot except Graelent wins fairy bride by chasing white hart, finding woman in pool and nicking her clothes (460, summary 460-61). Sees Lanval as more innovative, plausibly enough (461). ‘Guigemar retains nothing of the original theme except the chase of a white doe … as the prelude to an episode of love’ (462). Name-game and dynastic origins in Guigemar and Graelent (462-63), looks convincing enough.

‘Another folktale, recorded as early as the sixteenth-century [sic], tells how Urien Rheged met with a fairy at a ford, and from his union with her sprang his even more famous son Owein (Yvain). (G. Evans, Report on Welsh Mss. I, p. 911). Some corroborative evidence for the antiquity of this tradition is to be found in the triad Tri Gwyndorllwyth, see Trioedd Ynys Prydein no. 70. But such tales of the half-supernatural descent of dynasties are essentially different in their emphasis from the Sovereignty or “fairy-mistress” type of dynastic theme which is under consideration above’ (469, n. 1). Are you sure?! Then fades away with some musings on place of origin of Gawain trads (Galloway). But generally useful, esp. to ref for general e.g.s of fairy bride as dynastic originator etc.

Bromyard, Johannes de, Summa praedicantium (Nuremberg, 1518) [E.3.20]

p. ccclv verso col. 2, ‘Sortilegii siue cuiuscunq3/ diuinationis. Primo in generali ostendet in/ uentio et prohibitio et sortilegorum maledictio. Secundo/ in speciali ostendit carminatricum error. Tertio deceptio ostendit que fit in cartulis et ligaturis circa collum por/ tatis et obuiationibus et vocibus auium et constellatio/ nibus. Quarto deceptio ostendit que fit per diuina/ tionem et illusionem somniorum. Quinto deceptio osten/ diture illorum qui dicunt se de die vel de nocte a quodam/ pulchro populo rapi vel cum eis loqui vel volare seu/ quicquam societatis habere. Sexto quare effectus diui/ nationis seu sortilegii aliqando veraciter eueniunt:et quare/ deus hoc permittat:et quantum deus permittat malignos/ spiritis in talibus praeualere’ (ie. cunquibus?) and 7 and 8, bla bla.

Bromiadus, Ioanni, Suma praedicantum (Antwerp, 1614) [G*.1.28]. Part 2, Cap. 11, p. 371, col. 1:

‘Quinto deceptio ostenditur illorum, qui/ dicunt se de die, vel de nocte à quodam pulchro po/ pulo rapi, vel cum eis loqui, vel volare, seu quicquam/ societatis habere’

same, p. 374, col. 1: ‘Hac insuper illusione deceptæ sunt mulieres,/ quae in hac parte magisinueniuntur culpabiles, quam viri, quæ dicunt se rapi, à quodam populo, & duci/ ad loca quædam pulchra, ignota [Nuremberg innota], quæ etiam di/ cunt se cum eis æquitare [Nuremberg equitare] per multa terrarum spa/ cia intempestatæ noctis silentio, & loca plurima per/ transire, & qui eis credunt, & quod loca quæcunq./ clausa exeunt, & intrant ad libitum.’ Also, same place: ‘Illud etiam non/ est omittendum, quod quædam scelerate[hooked e] mulieres/ retro post Sathanam conuerse[hooked e] demonum [hooked e] illusioni/ bus, & phantasmatibus seductæ frequenter se pro/ fitentur [Nuremberg praefitentur] cum diana nocturnis horis Deo pagano/ rum, vel cum Herodiade, & innumera multitudi/ ne mulierum æquitare {Nuremberg equ…] super quasdam bestias, &/ multarum terratum spatia pertransire intempestaæ/ noctis silentio, & c. Sed vtinam hæ solæ in perfidia/ sua perijssent, & non multos secum ad infidelitatis/ interitum perduxissent. Et parum infra. Siquidem,/ & ipse Sathanas, qui transfigurat se in angelum lu/ cis , cum mentem cuiuscunque mulieris cæperit, &/ hanc per infidelitatem sibi subiugerauerit.illico trans/ format se in diuersarum personarum species, atque/ similtudines, & mentem, quam captiuam tenet,/ in somnis deludens, modo læta, modo tristia, mo/do cognitas, modo incognitas personas ostendens,/ per deuia quæque deducit, & cum solus spiritus/ hæc patitur,, infidelis homo non in anima, sed in cor/ pores euenire opinatur. Et cito post paucis interpo/ sitis sequitur. Quisquis hoc credit infidelis est, &/ pagano deterior’.

col. 2: ‘Secundo illas à nocumento non præseruant, si/ cut patet per exemplum de muliere, quæ sacerdoti/ de huiusmodi ducatu confessa dixit, quod nulla/ clausura sibi obstare posset, quin statim per auxi/ lium, & inuocationem illius populi esset vbi vellet./ Tentabo, inquit, sacerdos, & omnia firmans, &/ baculum in manu accipiens, & ipsam egregie verberare incipiens præcepit, quod exitum quæraret. Quem cum inuenire non posset, fatere necesse fuit,/ quod tam illorum auxilium, quam ars in necessita/ te sibi defecit. Ex prædictis ergo patet, quod necesse. est fateri, quod in malo statu, & à demone aliquo/ modo possessi sunt, vel propter defectum baptismi, vel/ confirmationis, vel bonæ vite[hooked e].’ [all these Nuremberg p. CCClvii recto col 2 to verso col 1 (in the case of the last quote).

Inc. 1. A.7.2 no title page or anything—check it out using catalogue I guess (alas, not the online one. C15 the bloke said). More heavily abbreviated . Some spelling variations (equitare, ignota, fantasm…) but that’s all I think.

Inc. 1.c.1.5 Basel. 2 vols. Nothing new here either. No title page either.

Bronnenkant, L. J., ‘Thurstable Revisited’, The English Place-Name Society Journal, 15 (1982–83), 9–19

Brook, G. L. and R. F. Leslie, La3amon: Brut, Edited from British Museum MS. Cotton Caligula A. ix and British Museum MS. Cotton Otho C. xiii, 2 vols, Early English Text Society, 250, 277 (London: Oxford University Press, 1963–78).

*Brooke, Christopher N. L., The Medieval Idea of Marriage (Oxford, 1989)

*Brooke, Daphne, ‘The Northumbrian Settlements in Galloway and Carrick: An Historical Assessment’, Proceedings of the Society of Antiquaries of Scotland, 121 (1991), 295–327

Brooks, N. P., ‘Arms, Status and Warfare in Late-Saxon England’, in Ethelred the Unready: Papers from the Millenary Conference, ed. by David Hill, BAR, British Series, 59 (Oxford: BAR, 1978), pp. 81–103; repr. in Nicholas Brooks, Communities and Warfare 700–1400 (London: Hambledon, 2000), pp. 138–61.

* N. Brooks, M. Gelling and D. Johnson, 'A New Charter of King Edgar', Anglo-Saxon England, xiii (1984), pp. 137-55

Brown, Arthur C. L., ‘Notes on Celtic Cauldrons of Plenty and the Land-Beneath-the-Waves’, in Anniversary Papers by Colleagues and Pupils of George Lyman Kittredge: Presented on the Completion of his Twenty-Fifth Year of Teaching in Harvard University, June, MCMXIII, ed. by Robinson, Sheldon and Neilson (London, 1913), pp. 235–49. Looking for grail origin etc. etc. nowt of use tho’ possibly worthwhile in its time.

Brown, Catherine, ‘Scratching the Surface’, Exemplaria: Medieval, Early Modern, Theory, 26 (2014), 199–214.

Brown, Lesley (ed.), The New Shorter Oxford English Dictionary on Historical Principles, 2 vols, 4th ed. repr. (with corrections) (Oxford, 1993). Much updated from old SOED by new ref to OED but from that also by ref to MED, DOST, N&Q etc. s.v. elf: ‘1 A supernatural, usu. small being of Germanic mythology with magical powers for good or evil; a fairy (sometimes distingiuished from a fairy as being male, or, formerly, inferior or more malignant). OE.’ much better than OED but also nice e.g. of old mistakes.

*Brown, Michelle P., ‘Paris, BN lat. 10861 and the scriptorium of Christ Church, Canterbury’, Anglo-Saxon England, 15 (1987), 119–37. So whence her refs to 164–71?! Wierd.

Brown, Michelle P., The Book of Cerne: Prayer, Patronage, and Power in Ninth-Century England (London: The British Library, 1996) [SW4 118:3.b.95.1]. Wow, looks great. CUL MS Ll.1.10. ‘It forms part of a group of such prayerbooks … Harley 7653 (the Harleian praayerbook, now fragmentary … ); Harley 2965 (the Book of Nunnaminster …); Royal 2.A.xx (the Royal prayerbook…). C8-9 (15). Context of Mercian supremacy. p. 19 for contents. Contains Marian devotions, discussed 139-40, in Latin. A bit too palaeographical for immediate relevance—not really much on power and patronage etc. Never mind. 178–79 re provenance of Royal Prayerbook, she says in 2001, but ref. seems a bit spurious to me.

Brown, Michelle P., ‘Female Book-Ownership and Production in Anglo-Saxon England: The Evidence of the Ninth-Century Prayerbooks’, in Lexis and Texts in Early English: Studies Presented to Jane Roberts, ed. by Christian Kay and Louise M. Sylvester, Costerus New Series, 133 (Amsterdam, 2001), pp. 45–67. ‘There is much evidence pointing to high standards of female literacy in pre-Alfredian England’ (45). Survey of ev. 45–51 before getting into Mercian MSS, with brief look at later ev. 58–60. Incl. that Franksih women’s book rpduction comparatively well-attested. NBs that it’s striking that the best ev. comes from a rare kind of book – ie. C9 books (50–51). Reckons Book of Nunnaminster (BL Harley MS 2965) ‘was probably made for and perhaps by a woman. By the end of that century it was associated with, and likely owned by, a Mercian noblewoman who became the wife of King Alfred. Although ght Ealhswith / Nunnaminster connection canot be conclusively substantiated, the Book of Nunnaminster certainly appears to have been in female ownership in Winchester during the late ninth and early tenth centuries’ (55, cf. 53–56). ‘To conclude, within three of the Mercian prayerbooks there is a steady stream of evidence, all of it circumstantial, pointing to female ownership’ (58)—partly ‘cos devotional books are partly tailored to readers so likely to include gendered hints.

Brown, Peter, ‘Sorcery, Demons and the rise of Christianity from Late Antiquity into the Middle Ages’, in Witchcraft Confessions and Accusations, ed. by Mary Douglas (London, 1970), pp. 14-46. [Anthrop K430 DOU, 460:01.c.9. nf2]

Brown, Peter, A Companion to Chaucer (Oxford, 2000).

*Brown, Theo, ‘The Black Dog’, Folklore, 69 (1958), 175-92. Might be good re scucca.

*Brown, T. J., ‘The Irish Element in the Insular System of Scripts to circa A.D. 850’, Die Iren und Europa im früheren Mittelalter, ed. H. Löwe, 2 vols (Stuttgart, 1982), i, 101–19. 109, n. 12 says Epinal glossary now c. 700, Lapidge 1986, 58 buys this.

*Brown, Tony and Glenn Foard, ‘The Saxon Landscape: A Regional Perspective’, in The Archaeology of Landscape: Studies Presented to Christopher Taylor, ed. by Paul Everson and Tom Williamson (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1998), pp. 67–94

Brown, William, The History of Missions; or, the Propagation of Christianity among the Heathen, since the Reformation, 2 vols (Philadelphia: Coles, 1816). This the first American edition. Looks like it was originally published in 1814. http://books.google.com/books?id=Vn8XAAAAYAAJ&dq, http://books.google.com/books?id=o38XAAAAYAAJ&dq. (Full title page is The History of Missions; or, the Propagation of Christianity among the Heathen, since the Reformation. By the Rev. William Brown, M. D. With additional notes, and a map of the world. Also, a short account of the first introduction of the Gospel into the British Isles. By Adam Clarke, LL. D. F. S. A. &c. &c.). I, iii–iv 'It is not improbable, indeed, that some will think the following work should have commenced with the Christian æra; but as, from the period of the Apostolic age, until the Reformation, the materials are in general extremely scanty and uninteresting' (I iii) followed by dissing Catholics.

Brownlee, [John], 'Appendix I: Account of the Amakosæ, or Sourth Caffers', in George Thompson, Travels and Adventures in Southern Africa (London: Colburn, 1827), pp. 439–61 (from an MS, date of which isn't stated).

*Bruce, D., ‘Some Proper Names in Layamon’s Brut not Represented in Wace or Geoffrey of Monmouth’, Modern Language Notes, 26 (1911), 65-9. Agues that Argante is < Morgant, who heals Arfa in Vita Merlini. Apparently. Relevant re idea that La3amon wanted his elf shiny, cf. argentus or whatever it is.

*Bruckner, Wilhelm, Die Sprache der Langobarden, Quellen und Forschungen, 75 (Strassburg, 1895). Re etym of Alboin, Alpsuina.

*Bruder, Reinhold, Die Germanische Frau im Lichte der Runeninschriften und her antiken Historiographie (Berlin, 1974). Critical of sources like Tacitus. Goodo.

Bruford, Allan, ‘Trolls, Hillfolk, Finns, and Picts: The Identity of the Good Neighbours in Orkney and Shetland’, in The Good People: New Fairylore Essays, ed. by Peter Narváez, Garland Reference Library of the Humanities, 1376 (New York: Garland, 1991), pp. 116–41. 120-21 re selkies; idea that seals are angels who fell into the sea 121. Finn folk, ‘a belief brought from Norway … In most Shetland stories it is clear that seals who also appear in human form are such “Norway Finns” ’ (121). Pict as trow in folklore as due to learned interference, tho’ not a comprehensive account 123-4.

Brundage, James A., Law, Sex and Christian Society in Medieval Europe (London, 1987). ‘Law and Sex in Early Medieval Europe, Sixth to Eleventh Centuries’ focused on Gmc stuff but proves to be rather half-arsed survey from secondary lit, very little on ASE anyway, etc. (124–75). You could cite it, generally and for its overall argument that the Church in this period increasingly determined attitudes to sex and marriage with connected shame, ideas of adultery, etc., but really it’d be slightly disingenuous to do so. Also citable as usual half-arsed sort of survey of laws and penitentials.

Bruneton, Jean, Toxic Plants Dangerous to Humans and Animals, trans. by Caroline K. Hatton (Paris: Lavoisier, 1999); originally published as Plantes toxiques pour l’Homme et les animaux (XXXX, 1996)

Brunsdale, Mitzi M., Encyclopedia of Nordic Crime Fiction: Works and Authors of Denmark, Finland, Iceland, Norway and Sweden since 1967 (Jefferson, NC: McFarland, 2016).

*Brush, K. A., ‘Gender and Mortuary Analysis in Pagan Anglo-Saxon Archaeology’, Archaeological Review from Cambridge, 7 (1988), 76–89.

Brustad, Kristen, 'The Question of Language', in The Cambridge Companion to Modern Arab Culture, ed. by Dwight F. Reynolds (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2015), pp. 19-35; DOI:10.1017/CCO9781139021708.004.

*Bryan, Elizabeth J., Collaborative Meaning in Scribal Culture: The Otho La3amon (Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1999)

Bryant, Levi, Nick Srnicek, and Graham Harman, ‘Towards a Speculative Philosophy’, in The Speculative Turn: Continental Materialism and Realism, ed. by Levi Bryant, Nick Srnicek and Graham Harman (Melbourne: Re.press, 2011), pp. 1-18

Bryce, James, Impressions of South Africa, 3rd rev. edn (London: Macmillan, 1899). 'One of the greatest among the difficulties which confront the missionaries is to know how to deal with polygamy, a practice deeply rooted in Kafir life. A visitor from Europe is at first surprised to find how seriously they regard it, and asks whether the eample of the worthies of the Old Testament does not make it hard for them to refuse baptism to the native who seeks it, though he has more than one wife. The clergy of the Church of England, however, and those of the French Protestant Church--and I think other missionaries also--are unanimous in holding that, although they may properly admit a polygamist as a catechumen, they should not baptize such a one; and they say hat the native pastors hold this view even more strongly than they do themselves. Polygamy is so bound up with heathen customs, and exerts, in their view, so entirely baneful an influence upon native society, that it must be at all hazards resisted and condemned.[fn. 1: 'After listening to their arguments, I did not venture to oubt that they were right.'] One is reminded of the Neoplatonic philosophers, the last professors of the Platonic academy at Athens, who in the sixth century of our era sought an asylum from Christian persecution at the court of Chrosroes Anurshirwan, in Persia. They forced themselves to tolerate the other usages of the people among whom they came, but polygamy was too much for them, and rather than dwell among those who practised it, they returned to the unfriendly soil of the Roman Empire. // The missionaries, and especially those of the London Missionary Society, played at one time a much more prominent part in politics than they now sustain. Within and on the borders of Cape Colony they were, for the first sixty years of the present century, the [376] leading champions of the natives, and as they enjoyed the support of an active body of opinion in England and Scotland, they had much influence in Parliament and with the Colonial Office. Outside the Colony they were often the principal advisers of the native chiefs (as their brethren were at the same time in the islands of the Pacific), and held a place not unlike that of the bishops in Gaul in the fifth century of our era. Since, in advocating the cause of the natives, they had often to complain of the behaviour of the whites, and since, whenever a chief came into collision with the emigrant Boers of with colonial frontiersmen, they became the channel by which the chief stated his case to the British Government, they incurred the bitter hostility of the emigrant Boers and some dislike even in the Colony.' (375-76). Cf. Butterflies and Barbarians p. 209.

Brydon, Anne, `Mother to her Distant Childen: The Icelandic Fjallkona in Canada', in Undisciplined Women: Tradition and Culture in Canada, ed. by Pauline Greenhill and Diane Tye (Montreal: McGill-Queen’s University Press, 1997), pp. 87--100.

Brydon, A. 2006. The predicament of nature: Keiko the whale and the cultural politics of whaling in Iceland. Anthropological Quarterly 79(2): 225-260.

*De Bourbon, Étienne, Anecdotes, ed. A Lecoy de la Marche (Paris 1877), pp. 319-21 re. Walter Map ii.14.

Buchan, David, ‘Folk Tradition and Literature till 1603’, in Bryght Lanternis: Essays on the Language and Literature of Medieval and Renaissance Scotland, ed. by J. Derrick McClure and Michael R. G. Spiller (Aberdeen, 1989), pp. 1-13. “one of the results of this spread in time is that tradition—which is paradoxically always in a state of self-renewing evolution—contains within itself both old and new elements. To emeplify briefly from one genre: Linda Degh, the Hungarian folklorist now in America, has shown how the wonder tale genre involves three “layers” of material—early pan-animism, medieval feudalism, and elements from the contemporary life of the tale-tellers’ (5). Hmm, okay. Might furnish a good ref tho’ re inherited meaning of elf. ‘Scotland possesses one version of The Corpus Christi Carol, recorded in the early nineteenth century from james Hogg’s mother. R. L. Greene in The Early English Carols gives five versions, the A version being from sixteenth-century England. The type has attracted considerable speculative attention; Greene himself constructs an ingenious theory based on the presence of the “fawcon” in the A version burden and the presence of a falcon in the heraldic badge of Anne Boleyn. In the classical ballads, however, there is a small group of types which share basic structural similarities, including the distinctive presence of marvellous birds or beasts, and a common concern with faith, fidelity and faithlessness. In these the knight is a secular figure where in the carol the knight is Christ, but otherwise there exists between this group and the carol a strong correspondence, both structural and thematic, which provides a cogent illumination of the carol’ (10). Alas, citing only an unpublished paper. Looks interesting re Yonec.

Buchan, David, ‘Ballads of Otherworld Beings’, in The Good People: New Fairylore Essays, ed. by Peter Narváez, Garland Reference Library of the Humanities, 1376 (New York: Garland, 1991), pp. 142–54 (first publ. in Tod und Jenseits im Europäischen Volkslied, ed. by Walter Puchner (Ioannina: University of Ioannina, 1986), pp. 247–61). ‘In one important particular the balladries of Northern Europe differ from those elsewhere on the continent; the ballad traditions of the Nordic countries and Britain, especially Scotland, are distinguished by the relative prominence of their supernatural ballads. This prominence generally declined in the anglophone tradition transplanted to North America, although certain groups of ballads retained a strength in societies where they continued to fulfil certain socio-cultural functions for their audiences, such as the revenant ballads in Newfoundland. In British balladry the supernatural ballads constitute one of the three major subgenres, one which itself comprises six minigenres, among them the ballads of Otherworld beings. // Although some versions have been recorded in North America and one or two in England, this minigenre, as recorded, is preponderantly Scottish, which serves to underline the specifically Scottish-Nordic linkage in supernatural balladry’ (142). Looks like he’s discussing just 9 ballads, but there.’An examination of the taleroles of the Otherworld types has led on to an understanding of the cultural functions of this minigenre. As well as telling a good story, they convey cultural knowledge through an exposition within narrative of the Otherworld and the Otherworld beings: their nature, characteristicsm and practices. Complementarily, they are [149] converned with furnishing guidance for mortal conduct towards the Otherworld beings. Talerole analysis illuminates not only function and meaning, but also a related topic, classification, particularly through the revelation of the two groups of types within the minigenre. Their differentiation gives a sharper perspective to the patternings and thematic emphases and enables one to perceive a central distinction in the cultural messages conveyed: death, though perhaps a threat, does not result from dealings with land-based Otherworld beings, but death, for someone, does inevitably result from dealings with water-based Otherworld beings’ (148–49).

Buchholtz, Peter, ‘Shamanism: The Testimony of Old Icelandic Literary Tradition’, Mediaeval Scandinavia, 4 (1971), 7–20. Strömbåck went for Lappish origin for seiðr; some dispute at the time (8). ‘Influence of Lapp shamanism on ancient Scandinavian beliefs is thus possible, but not all shamanistic elements in Old Icelandic literature need go back to some Lapp influence. At all times there were contacts with other neighbouring groups, including the pre-Teutonic population of Central and Southern Scandinavia itself’ (9). Survey of definitions 9–12. ‘Many beings, mainly mythological figures, dwars, gods, kings and “ordinary” magicians, are described as good smiths by Old Icelandic tradition’ (18), cf. 18–19. Refs in German thesis on which this is based, alas. Hmm. ‘Many characteristics of the traditions centered round Vọlundr the smith are definitely shamanistic [citing Ger. original] … The connection is given by the phenomenology of shamanism: the Germanic South only preserved the “craftsmanlike” side of the shaman; in the North we find the special significance of the head, connections with the world tree and with wisdom-giving mead’(19). hmm. Basically pants.

Buck, Carl Darling, A Dictionary of Selected Synonyms in the Principal Indo-European Languages: A Contribution to the History of Ideas (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, XXXXX)

***Buck, R. A., ‘Women and Language in the Anglo-Saxon Leechbooks’, Women and Language, 23 (2000), 41-50 [SPS only! Free School Lane]

Budny, Mildred, ‘The Decoration of the Corpus Glossary’, in Bischoff-Budny-Harlow-Parkes-Pheifer 1988, pp. 26–28..

Buffière, Félix (ed. and trans.), Anthologie Grecque: Première Partie Anthologie Palatine, Tome XII (Livres XIII-XV) (Paris: Société d'Édition Les Belles Lettres, 1970).

Bugge, Alexander, ‘Celtic Tribes in Jutland?: A Celtic Divinity among the Scandinavian Gods?’, Saga-Book of the Viking Society, 9 (1914–18), 355–71. 368 nerthus as cogn, with Weslth nerth etc. ‘strength’—wonder what more recent folks say? Nerthus and vanir as borrowed from celtic tribes in Jutland. Actually not implausible by usual standards.

Bühler, Curt F., ‘Prayers and Charms in Certain Middle English Scrolls’, Speculum, 39 (1964), 270–78. Of interest: Rotulus Harley T 11. No gen here but see *Simpson, Journal of the British Archaeological Association 1892, 50-51. ‘This is the mesur of [MS of of] the blessyd wounde [MS app. woundes] that oure Lord Ihesu Crist had in his right syde, the whiche an angell brought to Charlamayn, the nobyll emperour of Constrantyne, wyth-in a cofer of gold, saing this in hys tityll, that who-so-euer, man or woman, hauyng this mesur on hym shall not be slayn wyth no swerd [MS sw swerd] nor spere, no no shot shall not hurt the, nor no man shall not ouercomme hym in batell…’ shot line not in analogues here printed and NB change of person. But not really of interest actually.

Bühnen, Stephan, ‘Place Names as an Historical Source: An Introduction with Examples from Southern Senegambia and Germany’, History in Africa: A Journal of Method, 19 (1992), 45–101. ‘So far little use has been made of place names as a source for African history’ (45). Comparison with Germany because European work so far developed ahead of Africa. ‘To this day African historiography has been impeded not only by theoretical defects such as the tenaciously surviving migrationism, but also be the late start of research and the very restricted number of researchers’ (46). Sounds familiar... n. 14 has some early pn sources

Bull, Hedley, The Anarchical Society: A Study of Order in World Politics, 3rd edn (Basingstoke: Palgrave, 2002), pp. 245–46 [first publ. 1977].

Bullough, Vern L., Sexual Variance in Society and History (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1976). ‘Transvestism is also referred to only rarely in the penitentials. The first such reference apparently is found in the penitential of Silos, compiled in a monastery of that same name in the diocese of Burgos in Spain in the ninth century. Transvestism is not, however, regarded as a sexual act, nor does it seem to have any sexual connotations. Instead, it seems to be associated with paganism and witchcraft and is set off in a separate section dealing with dancing: // Those who in the dance wear women’s clothes and strangely devise them and employ jawbones and a bow and a spade and things like these shall do penance for one year’ (362, citing McNeill and Gamer 289, XI).

*Bullough, Vern L., ‘Transvestitism in the Middle Ages’, in Sexual Practices and the Medieval Church, ed. by Vern L. Bullough and James A. Brundage (Buffalo: Prometheus Books, 1982), c. 45

Bullough, Vern L. and Bonnie Bullough, Cross Dressing, Sex, and Gender (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1993)

Bürgel, Johann Christoph (ed. and trans.), Die ekphrastischen Epigramme des Abū Ṭālib al-Maʾmūnī: Literaturkundliche Studie über einen arabischen Conceptisten, Nachrichten der Akademie der Wissenschaften in Göttingen, Philologisch-Historische Klasse, 1965/14 (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1965).

*Burger, Douglas A. "Tolkien's Elvish Craft and Frodo's Mithril Coat," in The Scope of the Fantastic: Theory, Technique, Major s, ed. Robert A. Collins, Howard D. Pearce, and Eric S. Rabin, 255-262. Westport, CT: Greenwood, 1985.

Burke, Lucy, `Genetics and the Scene of the Crime: DeCODING Tainted Blood', Journal of Literary & Cultural Disability Studies, 6 (2012), 193–208. doi:10.3828/jlcds.2012.16.

*Burke, Peter, History and Social Theory (Cambridge, 1992)

Burke, Peter, Popular Culture in Early Modern Europe, 3rd edn (Aldershot: Farnham, 2009)

Burke, Peter, Popular Culture in Early Modern Europe, rev. repr. (Aldershot: Scolar Press, 1994) [NF4 533.1.c.95.292] 81–85 re the ‘regressive method’, term coined by Bloch, reading back from when evidence to is good to when it’s pants. Inevitable and necessary. ‘To avoid misunderstanding, let me say at once what the regressive method is not. It does not consist of taking descriptions of relatively recent situations and cheerfully assuming that thye apply equally well to earlier periods. What I am advocating in a rather more indirect use of the modern material, to criticise or interpret the documentary sources. It is particularly useful for suggesting connections between elements which can themselves be documented for the period being studied, or for making sense of descriptions which are so allusive or elliptical that they do not make sense by themselves’ (83). 85–87 re comparative methods,both those which assume common origins and those where one is just a model for another.

Burke, Peter, ‘Strengths and Weaknesses of the History of Mentalities’, in Varieties of Cultural History (Cambridge: Polity, 1997a), pp. 162–82; rev. from original publication in History of European Ideas, 7 (1986), 439–51.

Burke, Peter, ‘Unity and Variety in Cultural History’, in Varieties of Cultural History (Cambridge: Polity, 1997b), pp. 183–212.

Burke, Peter, What is Cultural History? (Cambridge: Polity Press, 2004). Re history of memory: ‘By contrast there has been much less research to date on the more elusive but arguably no less important topic of social or cultural amnesia’ (65). Hmm.

Burke, Peter, Varieties of Cultural History (Cambridge: Polity, 1997), p. 2: 'an approach to the past which asks present-minded questions but refuses to give present-minded answers'.

*Burkert, Walter, Greek Religion (Oxford, 1986), 150-1 re nymphs.

Burrow, J. A., ‘Elvish Chaucer’, in The Endless Knot: Essays on Old and Middle English in Honor of Marie Borrof, ed. by M. Teresa Tavormina and R. F. Yeager (Cambridge, 1995), pp. 105–11. [NW1 717:5.c.95.118] Previous glosses 106. ‘…but perhaps Skeat got even nearer the mark with his “absent in demeanour”, and especially in his note: “elvish, elf-like, akin to the fairies; alluding to his absent looks and reserved manner…. Palsgrave has—“I waxe elvysshe, nat easye to be dealed with, Ie deuiens mal traictable.” ’ (106). Consistent with rest of Chaucer’s self-portrayals. House of Fame, re eagle, ‘Time and again the bird’s cascades of friendly and enthusiastic talk are countered with laconic brevity’ (107). cf. 107-110. 110 Lydgate’s comments on Chaucer (whose son he knew). Hmm, that’s about it. Oh well.

Burrows, Hannah, 'Enigma Variations: Wave-Riddles and Supernatural Women in Old Norse Poetic Tradition', Journal of English and Germanic Philology, 112 (2013), 194-216 https://www.jstor.org/stable/10.5406/jenglgermphil.112.2.0194. 'It is nowhere else stated that wave-maidens are trying, vainly, to attain human husbands through their destructive behaviour, but the wave-riddles seem to point toward this conception. Like valkyries, they could well have been thought of (in at least some contexts) as independent-minded seductresses wanting to break free of paternal control and interact with human males' (212). 'this case it is disconcerting that, as we are told in Gestumbl Heiðr 24/4, the wave-maidens’ bed is harðan (hart).The wave-riddles and their variants and analogues, then, reveal a flex-ible oral tradition and an immanent discourse available for the discussion of supernatural females, particularly those with a fate-deciding role. I do not suggest that wave-maidens should be equated with valkyries, or norns, giantesses, or swan-brides; the wave-maidens clearly have their own charac-teristics and were thought of as separate. The wave-maidens, for example, are always hostile or at least destructive, whereas other supernatural fe-males can also be beneficent, hamingjur (guardian spirits); in Helgakviða Hundingsbana I (st. 29; NK, p. 134), Helgi is caught in a storm but saved by the valkyrie Sigrún from ógorlig Ægis dóttir (a terrible daughter of Ægir). Likewise, it is not necessary to read this immanent tradition into the wave-riddles to make sense of them or understand the perspective they convey about the prevailing essence of waves: that they are, like Ægir’s daughters, both seductive—a source of food and of adventure—and dangerous and unpredictable, taking lives at will. // But while, as we saw, the ptarmigan-riddle seems to draw on this field of reference essentially meaninglessly, the wave-riddles are enhanced by con-sideration in its light. The wider cultural significance of, and reason behind the tradition seems to be the exploration of uncontrollable natural forces, particularly those that affect human lives. Like Sigurðr, who wonders why some sons are stillborn, or Óðinn, who worries about the fate of his son Baldr, the wave-riddles are concerned with the untimely deaths of men. The elusive but evocative language they draw on stimulates association with other supernatural women and other fatalistic forces. Perhaps understanding the waves as part of this scheme was soothing to seafarers and their families. Perhaps the thought of seduction by attractive, mysterious young women was a comfort, or perhaps it explained and cautioned against the dangerous allure of the sea. The myriad uses of riddling discourse to describe the waves suggests they are, ultimately, unknowable; and perhaps this was consolation in itself. ' (213).

Burrows, Hannah, 'Wit and Wisdom: The Worldview of the Old Norse-Icelandic Riddles and their Relationship to Eddic Poetry', in ''Eddic, Skaldic, and Beyond: Poetic Variety in Medieval Iceland and Norway'', ed. by Martin Chase (New York: Fordham University Press, 2014), 114-35. https://www.academia.edu/7109198

'Gátur', ed. by Hannah Burrows, in Poetry from Treatises on Poetics: Part 1, ed. by Kari Ellen Gade and Edith Marold, Skaldic Poetry of the Scandinavian Middle Ages, 3 (Turnhout: Brepols, 2017), pp. 631-36.

'Hervarar saga ok Heiðreks', ed. by Hannah Burrows, in Poetry in 'Fornaldarsögur': Part 1, ed. by Margaret Clunies Ross, , Skaldic Poetry of the Scandinavian Middle Ages, 8 (Turnhout: Brepols, 2017), pp. 367-487.

Burson, Anne, ‘Swan Maidens and Smiths: A Structural Study of Völundarkviða’, Scandinavian Studies, 55 (1983), 1–19. 1–2 re the neither fish now fowl nature of poem. Allegedly. ‘The utility of the first story as a means of accounting for Völund’s presence at Úlfdalir has been noted, as has the effectiveness of the lonely image of Völund waiting for his wife in underlining the poignancy of his later situation’ (3, citing Bouman’s article, p. 172 neophil 34 1950). Goes with ring as continutity between halves of story (3–4). ‘In addition, the ring functions as a sexual symbol which links the women in the two halves of the poem through [4] their relationships with Völund’ (3–4). Sees capture a big theme: Völundr as captor-captive-captor (4–5). Compares Vkv with ‘Girl as Helper in the Hero’s Flight’ (Type 313) story (the Culhwch type story) 6–8; ‘Although the two narratives are superficially very different in plot and spirit, there are deeper structural similarities’ (7). Comparison more as subversion: V²lundr needs no help doing the king’s challenges, but the duaghter’s help in fulfilling the challenge he’s set for himself (cite also 11–12). Proppian analysis 8–11.

Busse, Peter E. and John T. Koch, 'Verulamion', in Celtic Culture: A Historical Encyclopedia, ed. by John T. Koch (Santa Barbara: ABC-CLIO, 2005).

Butler, Gary R., ‘The Lutin Tradition in French-Newfoundland Culture: Discourse and Belief’, in The Good People: New Fairylore Essays, ed. by Peter Narváez, Garland Reference Library of the Humanities, 1376 (New York: Garland, 1991), pp. 5–21.

Buxton, Richard, Imaginary Greece: The Contexts of Mythology (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1994). Essential for decoding the function of Greek myths in their narrative and historical settings. Buxton’s engaging book builds on etiological, religious ritual, and structuralist interpretations to gauge the ª distance and interplayº between the realities of Greek life and imaginary situations in legend and myth. 80–113 re Landscape. No specific point of use, alas, but handy as showing what can be done and what problems you get. ‘Assessing ancient Greek perceptions of the landscape is not without its difficulties. The island Rhodian’s attitude towards the sea will not have coincided with that of the landlocked Arkadian; folk dwelling in the mountain fastnesses of Taygetos will have had a different [81] perspective from that of Tessalian plainsmen; and of course we cannot assume that all Rhodians and all Thessalians thought alike. More fundamentally, the way the environment impinges on a given individual is not simply a question of that individual’s passively absorbing what is ‘there’. Hman beings create an image of their surroundings thoruhg their interaction with them, so that perception of a landscape is inevitably mediated by cultural factors. Thus our enquiry into the real-life aspect of the landscape must involve, in addition to a review of what people did, some sense of what they perceived themselves to be doing; indeed it isimpossible to give a meaningful account of the former without the latter’ (80–81). ‘…we may still make some provisional generalisations about our hypothetical myth/life distinction: (1) Myths rework, pare down, clarify and exaggerate experience; to say that they ‘reflect’ experience is quite inadequate. (2) Clarification is not only not incompatible with ambiguity, but can actually bring it into sharper relief (cf. mountain ‘luck’). (3) Perceptions reworked in mythology feed back into ordinary life, even if the way in which this happens can be hard to specify. (4) In ritual, behaviour is articulated through symbols with a comparable selectivity to that found in myths. The two symbolic languages contrast with and complement each other. (5) Overwhelmingly, our evidence, both mythological and non-mythological, bears the stamp of the city or village. Mountains are unsettling, for those in settlements; they are to be viewed from afar, visited only to be left again. To this extent, at least, the structuralists are right: we should investigate contrasts between the symbolic terms deployed in myths. The oros needs to be seen in the light of that which is not the oros. (6) Useful as oppositional analysis may be, it must not be allowed to override the nuances of individual texts. Greek mythology speaks with an astonishing range of voices; reductivism is the surest way of muffling them’ (96). ‘But this much is clear: the landscape of mythological narrative is formed from elements which, while they growout of the practices and perceptions of ordinarylife, acquire strongly differentiated and conceptually potent symbolic traits’ (113).

Butler, Judith, Gender Trouble: Feminism and the Subversion of Identity, new edn (New York: Routledge, 1999)

Bynum, Caroline Walker, ‘Women’s Stories, Women’s Symbols: A Critique of Victor Turner’s Theory of Liminality’, in Anthropology and the Study of Religion, ed. by Robert L. Moore and Frank E. Reynolds (Chicago, IllinoisXXXX: Centre for the Scientific Study of Religion, 1984), pp. 105–25. Cited by Rampton in interesting argument that men construct liminality with gender transgression but not women. [1:3.c.95.443]

Bynum, W. F., and Roy Porter (eds), Companion Encyclopedia of the History of Medicine, 2 vols (London, 1993)

Byock, Jesse L., Medieval Iceland: Society, Sagas, and Power (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1988).

C

*Cahen, M., Études sur le vocabulaire religieux du vieux-Scandinave: la libation, Collection linguistique Publiée par la Société de Linguistique de Paris, 9 (Paris, 1921) (a)

*Cahen, M., Le mot ‘dieux’ en vieux-scandinave, Collection linguistique Publiée par la Société de Linguistique de Paris, 10 (Paris, 1921) (b)

*Cahen, M., ‘L’adjectif “divin” en germanique’, Mélanges offerts à M. Charles Andler par ses amis et ses élèves, Publications de la Faculté des Lettres de l’Université de Strasbourg, 21(Strasbourg, 1924), pp. 79–107.

Caie, Graham D., ‘Infanticide in an Eleventh-Century Old English Homily’, Notes and Queries, n.s. 45 (1998), 275–76. Homilist of late C11 Oxford, Bodleian Hatton 113, ff. 66–73, Her is halwendlic lar and ðearflic læwendum mannum, þe þæt læden ne cunnon has a chunk which is a reasonably faithful trans of Bede’s De die iudicii, to which cf. the trans of DJ II 135–40 (275). But this text adds one example of what in JD is ‘oþþe mannes hand manes gefremede / on þystrum scræfum þinga on eorðan’: þær swutelað ælc cild hwa hit formyrðrode (‘There every child will reveal who murdered it’). Could be abortion or infanticide (276). Adds a few notes on comparatively light penances and acceptance of this widely in med. europe esp. Iceland based on Boswell 1988. ‘This addition in the homily, then, provides a glimpse into the everyday life of the parish and the priest’s immediate concerns. The homilist must have been sufficiently worried by the numbers of abortions or infanticides to make it the only addition to his source. These were sins difficult to detect, but nothing could be a more powerful and shocking deterrent than the thought of the child reappearing as accuser at Doomsday’ (276).

Cairns, Francis. ‘Orality, Writing and Reoralisation: Some Departures and Arrivals in Homer and Apollonius Rhodius’, in New Methods in the Research of Epic/Neue Methoden der Epenforschung, ed. by Hildegard L. C. Tristram, ScriptOralia, 107 (Tübingen: Narr, 1998), pp. 63–84. Reviews: R. Whitaker, Scholia Reviews 9, 2000. (Re)Oralisierung (Editor Hildegard L C Tristram), Gunter Narr Verlag, Tübingen (1996) 335-360 ISBN 3-8233-4574-5.) But used in my sense by journal.oraltradition.org/files/articles/16i/Mori.pdf. Thus moving on from orality/literacy thing.

*Caro Baroja, Julio Nimeke: Die Hexen und ihre Welt / Julio Caro Baroja ; [aus dem Spanischen übersetzt von Susanne und Benno Hübner] ; mit einer Einführung und einem ergänzenden Kapitel von Will-Erich Peuckert Aineisto: Kirja Julkaistu: Stuttgart : E. Klett, 1967

Kirjasto: Teologisen tiedekunnan kirjasto, laina-aika 28/84 vrk Sijainti: Ht Varasto Kg CARO BAROJA pp. 40–92 for early medieval witchcraft.

=Caro Baroja, Julio. Title: The world of the witches / Julio Caro Baroja ; translated from the Spanish by Nigel Glendinning. Other Entries: Glendinning, Nigel, 1929- Published: London : Phoenix, 2001.

Calder, Daniel G., ‘Guthlac A and Guthlac B: Some Discriminations’, in Anglo-Saxon Poetry: Essays in Apprecition for John C McGalliard, ed. by Lewis E. Nicholson and Dolores Warwick Frese (South Bend Ind.: Notre Dame University Press 1975), pp. 65-80 [eng E171 MACGA; 717:5.c.95.34]

Calder, George (ed.), Auraicept na n-éces: The Scholars’ Primer (Edinburgh, 1917)

*Calhoun, C., Social Theory and the Politics of Identity (1994). Looks like it contains useful essays as b’ground for my stuff.

*Calhoun‚ Mary‚ ‘Tracking down Elves in Folklore’‚ Horn Book Magazine‚ 45 (1969)‚ 278-82.

*Caluwé, ‘L’élément chrétien dans les Lais de Marie de France’, Mélanges de littérature du moyen âge au XXe siècle offerts à Mademoiselle Jeanne Lods, 2 vols (Paris, 1978), i 95–114. reckons religion importnant in Yonec and has some correlation with degree of amorality.

Cameron, Angus, Ashley Crandell Amos, Antonette diPaolo Healey et al., eds. 2007. Dictionary of Old English: A to G online. Toronto: DOE project. .

Cameron, Kenneth, The Place-Names of Derbyshire, English Place-Name Society, 27–29 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1959). Continuously paginated. Vol 1, 160 re Peak Forest parish gives ‘Eldon Hill, Elvedon 1285 For, ‘elves’ hill’, v. elf, dūn. Eldon Hole, Elden Hole 1577 Saxton, one of the wonders of the Peak in Cotton’ Yep, that’s it!

*Cameron, K., ‘Eccles in English Place-Names’, in Christianity in Britain 300–700, ed. by M. W. Barley and R. P. C. Hanson (Leicester, 1968), 87–92.

*Cameron, Kenneth, English Place-Names, new edn (London: Batsford, 1996). (‘new edition’ on title page; styleXXXX). 122 reckons Elveden is from elf not elfetu. ‘Most of the English names considered so far must have been formed during the pagan period. On the other hand, there are some names which reflect a popular mythology, a belief in the supernatural world of dragons, elves, goblins, demons, giants, dwarfs, and monsters. Such creations of the popular imagination lived on long after the introduction of Christianity and traces of these beliefs still exist today, but we really have no idea when the place-names referring to them were given’ (122). ‘…elf is fairly frequent in minor names, in assocation with a hill in Eldon Hill (Db) and with valleys in ALden (La) and Elvedon (Sf)’ (122). ‘Finally, though modern witch does not seem to occur in old place-names, OE hætse, a word with the same meaning, is found in Hascombe (Sr) and Hescombe (S0) “valley”, and perhaps also with reference to a valley in Hassop (Db) and to a ford in Hessenford (Co)’ (123).

Cameron, M. L., ‘The Sources of Medical Knowledge in Anglo-Saxon England’, Anglo-Saxon England, 11 (1983a), 135-55. Possibly useful surevy of late antique/early medieval medicial sources, pp. 137-43. Article good for context generally.

Cameron, M. L., ‘Bald’s Leechbook: Its Sources and their Use in its Compilation’, Anglo-Saxon England, 12 (1983b), 153-82. Very boring. ‘Our examination of the Leechbook has enabled us to find out something about the conditions under which an Anglo-Saxon physician active c. 900 worked. He had access to medical works in English … and to much of the post-classical Latin medical literature (which included translations and epitomes of Greek and Byzantine medical authorities). He was not limited to a purely native pharmocopoeia, but could draw on a wide selection of non-perishable exotic ingredients … He appears to have been acquainted with a wide range of medical practise as well as with its literature … That his approach to medicine was predominantly rational is shown by the relatively few charms in the Leechbook.’ (177).

Cameron, M. L., ‘Aldhelm as Naturalist: A Re-Examination of some of his Enigmata’, Peritia, 4 (1985), 117–33. 48 of the 100 Enigm re plants and animals (117). ‘He [118] tended to avoid incredible or fabulous materials (except when dealing with mythological subjects) and to report first-hand observations with remarkable accuracy. It is for this ability to observe and to report natural phenomena that he should be of interest to natural historians today. His occasional use of clues drawn from the materia medica is equally of interest to medical historians. So little of natural and medical science has reached us from England in his time that any opportunity to glimpse the mind of an intelligent English observer of the seventh century should not be missed’ (118). Includes Pitman’s trans. of enigs. for those discussed. Elleborus is: ‘Lo, a bearer of purple, I grow again (in Spring) with hairy twigs in the countryside similar to the shellfish (conch, whelk): so by the ruddy murex (colour) of my berry a purple blood distills in drops from my branch (twig, vine-shoot). I do not wish to take away from the one eating me the slough (cast-off coverings) of life nor will my mild poisons wholly despoil his mind; but yet a madness of the heart vexes the insane (unwell) one, while (until) he turns his limbs in a circle frenzied (delerious) with vertigo (dizzyness).’ (131). Hey, NB OE weden heort!! weden not in Lacn and 2 in Leechb. once in assoc with ælfþone one with alfsiden all with deofulseoc. A normal Latin usage? Also cf.

Furiarum

hægtessa

wedenheotra synna.

ClGl 1 (Stryker) D8.1

Furiarum

wedenheotra synna

hægtessa

ClGl 1 (Stryker) D8.1

‘This enigma shows more than most Aldhelm’s fondness for “hisperic” vocabulary and extravagent word-play; the very first word is an example. Consequently, words here seem often to bear more than one connotation; Aldhelm seems to be trying to convey more than one idea at once. I have out in parentheses alternate meanings of the Latin where I have guessed this to be so’ (131). Hellebore not the solution if it’s to mean Helleborus and Veratrum ‘Ptiman accepted “hellebore” as the solution. But it is impossible, if by “hellebore” is meant those species of Helleborus and Veratrum which were the helebores of Dioscorides, Pliny and apparently Isidore, and are the hellebores of today. None of these plants has berries, red or otherwise; the fruits are dry follicles or capsules’ (131). Erhardt-Siebold goes for Daphne mezereum but he’s not happy with that either (131). NB poedberge in Erf., woediberge or somesuch in Corpus glossing helleborusXXXX Checked Lacn and Leech wede, wedi woed SPACE+wod, got nothing apart from weden heort. Odd, ‘cos CH-M cites LCD as well as GL. Lines 1-3 physical characterisitcs, 4-7 medicinal (131). Purple like shellfish dye, or spiralling like a conch shell? (131-2). ‘It affects the heart, causing a dementia (foolishness, aberration); this may refer metaphorically to aberration of those mental qualities supposed to reside in the heart’; or actual heart behaving oddy (132). Insanum ‘mad’ but also in-sanum ‘not well’. Why it’s not mezeron 132. ‘Aldhelm’s description of the effects of ingestion are strikingly similar to those reported after ingestion of the seeds of Datura, a member of the Family Solanaceae: ‘He found her to have tachycardia [‘swift-heart-ia’], widely dilated pupils, and that she was delerious, weak and unable to walk… The child was extremely excited, almost to the point of acute mania, with rapid continuous purposeless limb movements, at times muttering and at times exhibiting screaming delerium’. These symptoms are typical of poisoning by atropine and related alkaloids’ (132). Citing K. F. Lampe and R. Fagerström, Plant Toxicity and Dermatitis (Baltimore 1968), 120. British Solanaceae: henbane, deadly nightshade, black nightshade, woody nightshade being most likely. Only woody has red berries: Solanum dulcamara (132). Physical features good (132). ‘It has long been used in herbal medicine. Its chief agent is solanine, but [133] there may also be traces of atropine and other related alkaloids present which may contribute to the effects after ingestion. Because of all these correlations with Aldhelm’s description, I am certain that he was describing a Solanaceous plant, and willing to accept that plant as being the woody nightshade, Solanum dulcamara’ (132-33). ‘Its chief agent is solanine, but [133] there may also be traces or atropine and other related alkaloids present which may contribute to the effects after ingestion’ (132-33). Cites Grieve, A Modern Herbal, ii 589-90 on medicinal uses.

Cameron, M. L., ‘Anglo-Saxon Magic and Medicine’, Anglo-Saxon England, 17 (1988), 191-215. Nice intro paragraph demanding the consideration of medical texts as medical texts (191). Historiographical slam on folks, apart from Payne who was right all along. Fun. (191-4).

*Cameron ASE 1990

Cameron in 1992 collection XXXX

Cameron, M. L., Anglo-Saxon Medicine, Cambridge Studies in Anglo-Saxon England, 7 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1993). ‘But before 1100 north of the Alps only one culture has left us anything of its own; uniquely among Northern Europeans the Anglo-Saxons appear from early times to have written medical texts in their own language as well as in Latin’ (1). How scholars have underrated AS medicine 2-4, citing Payne 38-9. ‘In contrast to the neglect of rational medical components of Anglo-Saxon medicine, its magical component has received much attention, and important work has been done on it, so that a one-sided picture has emerged’ (4). Translates dweorg as ‘fever’ (10). Chapter 2 shos that most treatments are pants—his point is just that A-Ss no worse than anyone else I spose. ‘Some remedies which appear superficially to contain magic or superstitious elements will be found on closer examination to be quite rational’ (38), thus singing paternosters as way of measuring time, not inherently relevant (38-9). Interesting tho’ hard to believe it’s the whole story. ‘It must not be thought that native Anglo-Saxon medicine was chiefly magical; most of the remedies in Leechbook III are rationally conceived, whether or not the treatments they recommend would be of any benefit to the patient’ (39). Re some of the more ill-conceived ones, 39-40. ‘So many remedies end with he biþ sona hal, him bið sona sel or words to the same effect, that one suspects them to be a sort of conventional closing rather than a firm assurance of the efficacy of the medicine’ (40).

‘Concering ælfsogoþa (an unknown ailment; Geldner suggested elf-sucked, that is anaemic [cited by Thun, 388]) this advice is given:’ (41). ‘Finally, there is a description of the appearance of one having the wæterælfadl (‘chicken-pox’, or perhaps ‘measles’)’ (41). All re Leechbook III. ‘There is reason to think that Leechbook III comes closest to being a collection of native medicines, its background being mostly in the northern traditions for which sources do not exist, it itself being the oldest survivor of its kind. As we saw in ch. 6, most of its analogues with the Latin tradition are found in the Herbarium and in Marcellus, amounting to less than one third of the total number of entries’ (75). ‘Most of the remedies in Leechbook III are not found in the medical literature in Latin and may be presumed to be of native origin, and some of those which have analogues in the Latin literature are sufficiently different to indicate that they may not have been borrowed and can be presumed to be of native origin’ (77). Interesting point. Cf. 75-6.

Identifies ælfþone with woody nightshade after Thun but with medical ev. added (110-11). ‘In Old English medicine ælfþone was prescribed in nine recipies; three are for ælfadl, which seems to have been an eruptive skin condidtion, two for micel lic, which we have seen may have been also some kind of ailment affecting the skin, one was a leoht drenc (‘light drink’, ‘tonic’), one a fomentation for lyftadl (‘paralysis’), one a drink against deofol (probably [111] some form of mental affliction) and one a drink against weden herote (probably ‘madness’). A modern herbal has this to say about the medicinal properties of woody nightshade: “Its action is alterative, and it particularly affects all the organs of the senses. It is very helpful in skin diseases and rheumatism and in bringing relief to paralyzed lims”. This description of its uses is found in other recent herbals and is in remarkably close agreement with Anglo-Saxon usage. If Thun’s analysis of the meaning of the name is correct, ælfþone is a vine. Of the group of solanaceous plants considered here, only woody nightshade is a vine. This agreement between semantic and medicinal analyses giv strong support to the inference that OE ælfþone and woody nightshade are the same plant’ (110-111). 111-112 re problem of working out what A-Ss mean by hellebore; glossed wedeberge and þung (‘poisonous plant’); Helleborus and Veratrum don’t have berries tho’. Talks re Aldhelm but doesn’t push anything (still with the woody nighthade line tho’ ).

‘If we rephrase our question more specifically: ‘Did ancient and medieval physicians use ingredients and methods which were likely to have had beneficial effects on the patients whose ailments the treated?’, then I think the answer is ‘Yes, and their prescriptions were about as good as anything prescribed before the mid-twentieth century’ (117). The theme of chapter 12, pp. 117-29. Nice e.g. of Storms taking a remedy as magical because he doesn’t know the science of it! 121-2, also one on 122-3. ‘…plantain was invoked in the Old English Nine Herbs Charm in terms which seem to imply some knowledge of its antibacterial properties: ‘So may you withstand venom and infection, and the loathsome thing which roams through the land’, where the reference seems to be t what we would now call bacterial infections. Recent work has shown that the plantains contain aucubin, a potent antibiotic, in all their parts, especially plentiful in Plantago major (the common broad-leaved plantain), [bla bla]’ (123). Re lichens, ‘That the recipies specified the sources from which they were to be gathered may not be a result of superstitious beliefs; lichens are neither easy to describ clearly nor to identify accurately and may have been identified for medicinal purposes by the substrates on which they grew’ (125).

‘…magic remedies were most commonly prescribed for conditions which were intractable to rational treatments; this implies that they were resorted to for conditions where rational remedies had proved ineffective’ (130). ‘We must guard against finding magical connotations in remedies which to their users were not thought to be magical’ (131). ‘Cockayne identified rud molin [re. II, 342] as water pepper (Polygonum hydropiper), on the assumption that the name was an error for rudniolin (‘red stalk’), an Old Norse plant name quite suitable for the water plant described in the remedy, and because water pepper has the dialectal name ‘redshanks’ in English … If Cockayne was right in his identification, then the compiler (or scribe) of the Leechbook or some predecessor was not familiar with the name and misspelled it. This implies that this amulet was not of native English origin, but was borrowed from the Scandinavians’ (132).

‘Fennel (finul) is most probably native, and was a common ingredient of Anglo-Saxon remedies under the name finul (finol) which, although of Latin origin, appears to have been thoroughly naturalized quite early’ (147).

Re II, 112, wið fleogendum atre 7 ælcum æternum swile ‘for which the incantation (which must have been almost pure gibberish to its reciters) is said to be Scottish (i.e. Irish) and in which some Irish words are still recognizable’ (149—citing Cockayne; cf. now Meroney). Irish source for the ‘flying poison’ infection concept? (150). ‘Dweorh has almost always been translated as ‘dwarf’, which may be its primitive meaning, but there is ample evidence in other Old English medical texts that it also means ‘fever’, apparently delerium accompanied by delirium or convulsive seizures’ (152). Pennyroyal dweorgedwostle (153). An interesting alternative slant on how we understand the use of these words—rather like the way Virgil perceives classical gods? Also the way, say, Ephesians 6:16 works etc.—it’s clear to all that this ain’t a real arrow, breastplate, etc., for all that it gets developed in rather extreme ways.

GOOD STUFF IN ch. 13—PHOTOCOPY?

‘In another set of magical remedies we will see that ælfadl (“elf-sickness”) is most probably chicken-pox, and in others its is some other eruption on the skin’ (142). Discusses waterelfadl 154-5. ‘Difficult questions are raised by the charm; what is wæterælfadl, and what does the word eare mean? It is not clear whether wæterælfadl should be read as wæterælf-adl (‘disease caused by a water-elf’) or as wæter-ælfadl (‘watery elf-disease’). Some commentators have assumed a water-elf … bla… On the other hand, the preceding chapter of Leechbook III deals at some length with ælfadl which, for reasons already given [where?! I can’t find ’em], appears to have designated cutaneous eruptions of various kinds; wæter-ælfadl would ten be a form of ælfald, a skin ailment having a watery manifestation. Storms suggests chicken-pox, not unreasonably, as it is consistent with the symptoms given … Another possibility is measles, in which also the eyes are very sensitive to light’ (155). Nice analysis of text follows.

Campbell, A., Old English Grammar (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1959).

Campbell, Alistair, An Anglo-Saxon Dictionary: Enlarged Addenda and Corrigenda (Oxford, 1972).

Campbell, J., ‘Bede’s Words for Places’, in Names, Words, and Graves: Early Medieval Settlement. Lectures Delivered in the University of Leeds, May 1978, ed. by P. H. Sawyer (Leeds: The School of History, University of Leeds, 1979), pp. 34–54. Excludes from consideration passages quoted by Bede (34). Uses HE, Life of Cuthbert and Lives of the Abbots. Usually uses civitas of places which were important under Romans. Main exceptions are Alcluith and Bamburgh, both usually urbs (34–35). Just Romans too—several episcopal seats thus as not civitates (35). Locus seems generally to be exclusive of civitas (35). Use of civitas and urbs maps quite well onto caestir and burg (35), and Bede probably to some extent uses the Latin terms as transs of the OE, but not always (35–37). ‘It seems that there was a significant difference between civitas and urbs for Bede. One was a Roman place (?significant, ?fortified), the other a fortified place, not of Roman origin. It is true that he was probably often dependent on what a veracular name told him about the nature of a place. But it appears likely that he was right in taking it that the vernacular distinction between caestir and burg was not one without a difference’ (37). THough he wriggles a bit on the exceptions (London and Cantberbury as urbes, Bamburgh and Alcluith as civitates). OE translation follows Bede pretty much as you’d expect; has some trouble with Canterbury (38). Bede only uses oppidum, castellum and castrum when quoting from elsewhere (38). Except for oppido municipio where Osric is killed by Cadwallon, a list of places visited by Chad and use of oppidum re Utrecht. All makred also by combination with other unusual place-words; C concludes that Bede’s using written sources here, perhaps letters (38–39). Evasion of full range of available vocab strengthens the case for a clear and specific usage of urbs and civitas. Reckons Stephanus following a different patter, less influenced by the vernacular than Bede (39). B’s usgae fairly well paralleled in charters thogh, esp. signatories to Clofaesho (39–41). From this ‘It seems that there was a real disinction drawn between Roman and non-Roman places’ in early England (41). Adds that names in -burg rarely given ‘to Roman places of significance, notwithstanding their fortifications’ (41). Though not totally absolute, naturally (42). Emphs that although praefectus usually trans. ‘reeve/gerefa’ it could dentoe well import people too—the guy at Dunbar in Stephanus could be a ‘sub-king’ rather than a ‘reeve’ (42).

Usual terms for less important places are vicus and villa, app. synonyms, along with less frequent but still common viculus (43). Picking up on earlier work, argues that Bede’s flexible use of villa and vicus, which are well distinct in Frankish material, fits in with early English landholding: ‘This is probably because the property and rights of the great were not concentrated in villa estates in the Continental sense, but were focused on central places which were often also cetnres of population. An English villa regia was not a great estate in the sense of a discrete block of land owned and exploited in special ways. Rather was it [sic!] the centre of a fairly wide area all or most of whose people owed something to it. If, as may well have been, there was lands within such an area which were particularly bound to and exploited from it,they probably formed a kind of archipelago. There would have been no point in trying to decide whether the central place of suchh a complex was more appropriately termed villa or vicus. // It is probably that many of the villae and vici to which Bede refers were not just villages, but central places of this kind’ (44). 8 such names royal places and one of a comes. ‘It is likely that the vici and villae of which we read in the accounts of the lives of holy bishops were often royal even when we are not told so. Paulinus seems to have worked from royal vills (OH,pp. 114–15). Aidan also based himself ‘in aliis villis regis’ apart from that at which he died (OH, pp. 159–60). Although we have no such specific information about Cuthbert and Wilfrid it is likely that they, similarly, based themselves on royal vills. If so it was probably at such that they [45] wrought their wonders. So, on occasion villa or vicus in the hagiographical sources may have a more specific meaning that [sic] is immediately clear from the context’ (44–45). Terms rare in early charters, again suggesting that they’re notthe kinds of places you just give away (45). ‘It is likely that at least some of the “multiple” estates which later appear as archipelagos of properties dependent on a particular centre represent what was left of such a block after numerous gifts of single settlements of the kind familiar in the charters had been made. Such grants of single places or of groups less than the whole set depending on a royal vill are those most frequently met with’ (46). ‘It looks af if sometimes, as at Farnham, the name of a place was extended to an area; but also as if, sometimes, the name of an area became attached to its central place. The latter is suggested by the English place-names which seem to have originated as area names, for example, Leeds, Lyminge, Ely, and some of these when they appear in early sources are explicitly applied to a regio: for example, Cuningham, Dent, Yeading [sic]’ (48). Reckons this goes for all those place-names in in like Inundalum (Oundle, which he emphs is described as a provincia by Stephanus), In Getlingum etc. (48). ‘Thus the places met in tun in the Chronicle could be royal vills, not so much because royal vills were particularly likely to have names in tun as because the Chronicle was particularly likely to give the names of royal vills; events tended to happen at sich places and the Chronicle is concerned with events’ (49). I love his use of events! Classic. Whole article is preoccupied with finding royal sites in fact. What a Historian! But after some musing (which seems to take early Chronicle entries to use language contemporary with the event they describe, despite a half-caveat p. 50 n. 20—hmm...) he says ‘I do not seek to maintain that tun does not, in place-names, mean all the things which experts say it means. But it does look as if an important meaning, and an early meaning, was ‘royal vill’. Place-name studies seem in the past to have proceeded on a tacit assumption that the early history of England is laregly one of the progress of settlement and have not always given attention to the possible relations between the names of places and their functions within structures of authority’ (50). Fair point—quotable.

*Campbell, J., 'The Debt of the Early English Church to Ireland', in Irland und die Christenheit ed. P. Ní Chatháin and M. Richter (1987), 332-46.

*Campbell, John Francis, Popular Tales of the West Highlands, 2 vols (1850–1, repr. Edinburgh 1994)XXXXstyle. i, 49 allegedly has ‘fairies who shoot stone arrows’.

*Campbell, M., The Witness and the Other…XXXX (1988)

Campbell, S. D., B. Hall and D. Klausner (eds), Health, Disease and Healing in Medieval Culture (New York, 1992).

Cantor, Geoffrey, 'Charles Singer and the Early Years of the British Society for the History of Science', British Journal for/ofXXXXX the History of Science, 30 (1997), 5-23, doi: XXXXX. Re Singer's Jewish background--goes for liberal Judaism; not 'practising' (7-8); probably agnostic (14); 'he insisted that some vital principle exists in each of us that is not reducible to matter' (8). 9-14 major role in helping Jews oppressed, esp. in/fleeing Nazi Germany. 'This view of science as continually emergent and progressive informs much of Singer’s historical writings. Although he explicitly distanced himself from positivism, Singer’s historiography – like that of his close friend Sarton – bears many of the hallmarks of Comtean positivism. Most importantly, he believed that positive scientific knowledge would replace earlier religious forms of understanding' (14); also since science is universal, it's international. Heavily into C19 positivism, passim. 'The kind of history of science practised by Singer and Sarton has long ceased to be at the cutting edge of our subject ; indeed, so many of their writings now seem distinctly passeT and are rarely cited by scholars. Equally outmoded is Singer’s vision of science and its history providing the impetus for a new humanism. In a strong sense his understanding of humanism looked back in time – not forwards. Singer’s horizons were set by a historical understanding of European culture predating the Second World War, in which America played but a peripheral role' (22).

*Capelli, C. et al., ‘A Y Chromosome Census of the British Isles’, Current Biology, 13 (2003), 979–84.

Carey, John, 'The Name "Tuatha De' Danann" ', /E'igse/, 18 (1980-81), 291-94. 'In 1900 Ludwig-Christian Stern briefly discussed the name /Tuatha De' Danann/ ... He pointed out that the earliest text mentioning the /tri dee Danann/ with whom it is always associated in fact refers to them as the /tri dee da'na/ ('three gods of skill'). /Danann/ he took to be mistakenly derived from /da'na/, influenced in form by the name of a mother-goddess for whom there are early attestations: /Anu/, gen. /Anann/' (291). Largely ignored (291)--everone has other ideas 291-2. 'Stern's argument for the late appearance and essentially artificial character of the figure known in Irish texts as /Danann/ or /Donann/ seems to me valid and compelling ... I have been unable to find any convincing traces of the name prior to the poems in /Lebor Gaba'la/' (292). Stern reckons that apart from the textual confusion, there's motive to differntiate Tuatha De' Danann from Tuatha De'=Isaraelites (293). But Da'na and Anu and Donann (1st attested form) not that close (293-4). Carey suggests analogy with Domann, in place-names and Fir Domann 'are one of the anomalous tribal groups alluded to in /Lebor Gaba'la/ and the sagas' (294). Some other considerations, like Indech mac De' Domnann, k. of Fomoire; '/Cath Maige Tured/ speaks with suggestive carelessness of the /Tuath nDea Domnonn/ and /Indech mac Dei Donann/' (294). 'I suggest, then, that Eochaid ua Flainn or one of his predecsessors, seeking to make the designation /Tuatha De'/ less ambiguous, was struck by the name of the /Tuath Do(m)nann/ (or */Tuath De' Do(m)nann/?) [sic re punct] Given such an exemplar, the phrase /tri dee da'na/ could easily be reinterpreted as /tri dee Donann/, and the genitive /Anann/ viewed as a doublet of /Donann/: both confusions are as we have seen apparent in the texts of /Lebor Gaba'la/. /Donann/, according to this hypothesis, could have absorbed the connotations of the older forms' (294).

Carey, John, ‘The “Otherworld” in Irish Tradition’, Éigse, 19 (1982), 36–43, repr. in The Otherworld Voyage in Early Irish Literature: An Anthology of Criticism, ed. by Jonathan M. Wooding (Dublin, 2000), pp. 113–19. I agree with Muhr that Carey 1982 overstates things re otherworld being over the sea—he omits Procopius’s evidence, no? NB La3amon’s sea-crossing thing looks very Irish with Argante—whence is this? Maybe check the whole Nimue thing too? Geoffrey has weird lake ix.6–7, penguin trans 219–20; 261 ie. xi.2 Arthur goes to Avalon; NB smith and his wife from the lake in Branwen; Check Edwards XXXX. So maybe you can make a Welsh influence argument here too? This theme certainly gets a life of its own later and may be reflected in other texts cited re Wade too XXXX

Carey, John, ‘The Location of the Otherworld in Irish Tradition’, Éigse, 19 (1982–83), 36-43 (repr. in The Otherworld Voyage in Early Irish Literature: An Anthology of Criticism, ed. by Jonathan M. Wooding (Dublin, 2000), pp. 113-19). Arguably no early ev. for otherworld over the dea, rahter than under lakes or mountains (113). Is this right? Immrama business arguably from eccl. practice and lit of the time and not therefore trad (113). But echtrae older. ‘Early accounts of mortal visits to Otherworld places are fairly plentiful … Otherworld beings are depicted as living within hills, beneath lakes or the sea, or on islands in lakes or off the [117] coast; there are also tales of halls chanced upon in the night, which vanish with the coming of day’ (116-17). But short of over-the-sea jobs. Book of Taliesin has 3 poems hints that Annwfyn is over sea, tho’ Kaer Sidi ‘probably’ < síd (118-19): ‘Apart from the great ambiguity attaching to this material, it cannot be taken as representing an uncontaminated native tradition’ (119). ‘Outside the immrama, then, and the two closely linked tales Immram Brain and Echtrae Conlae, the early sources give us no grounds for postulating belief in an overseas Otherworld; nor does there appear to be satisfactory evidence for such a belief in either contemporary Irish folklore or the traditions of Wales’ Such a vacuum is clearly significant… It seems reasonable to suggest, in the light of the age and popularity of Immram Brain and Echtrae Conlae, that it is they and the Ulster literary movement which produced them which introduced this topos into Irish literature; that it was foreign to the native tradition at every stage appears evident’ (119). How does Carey fit The Adventure of Conle into this? Also the tradition of crossing water to the otherworld is massive, no? Cf. Styx etc.? Tho’ NB not in Pwyll.

Carey, John Price, ‘Lebar Gabála: Recension I’ (Unpublished Doctoral Dissertation, Harvard University, 1983). ‘The second account … resembles the Frankish and British origin-legends in that it deals with the protracted wanderings of a heroic ancestor, but begins with the exodus of the Israelites rather than the fall of Troy. The forefathers of the Gaels wander for forty-two years through the deserts of northern Africa before travelling to Spain and thence to Ireland: here too a parallel with the Biblical search for the Promised Land is presumably intended’ (16).

‘Let us turn now from stories of the Gaels, so that we may speak of the seven peoples that took Ireland before them. Cesair daughter of Bith son of Noah took it, forty days before the Flood. Partholón son of Sera, three hundred years after the Flood. Nemed son of Agnoman, of the Greeks of Scythia, at the end of thirty years after Paartholón. The Fir Bolg after that. The fir Domnann after that. The Gaileóin after that. The Tuatha Dé Donann after that’ (250). ‘Tuatha Dé Donann iar sain’ (96/l. 426). ‘Iar sain táncatar Tuath Dé / ina caípaib ciach cain; / co ’motormalt dam sa friu / ciarbo saegul cian’ (98/ll. 456-9); ‘After that came the Tuath Dé / in their ships of dark clouds, / so that I shared food with them, / however remote the time’ (252). 256-7 says of Tuán son of Starn who survives alone a plague and lives thru all the takings, as in Scél Tuáin Meic Chairill.

NB ‘O dear Christ of the fair skin’ (275); ‘A Chríst caín co caeme chniss’ (120/l.929)

Tuatha Dé turn up pp. 278-79, 282-3 (poems). ‘Progeny of Nemed’ and vrr. Work out how that all fits. Family tree? Cf. ‘From the stock of Magog son of Japhet come the peoples who reached Ireland before the Gaels, that is, Partholón son of Sera son of Srú son of Esrú son of [234]Brainind son of Fattecht son of Magog son of Japhet; and Nemed son of Agnoman son of Paimp son of Tait son of Srú son of Esrú; and the descendants of Nemed, that is the Gáileóin and the Fir Domnann and the Fir Bolg and the Tuatha Dé Donann’ (233-4). Nemed hits the scene 262. What gives? ‘The offspring of Bethach son of Iarbonél Fáid son of Nemed were in the northern islands of the world, studying druidism and knowledge and sorcery and witchcraft, until they were pre-eminent in the arts of the heathen sages. Those are the Tuatha Dé Donann who came to Ireland’ (285); ‘Bátar iarum clanda Bethaig meic Iarbonéoil Fáda meic Nemid i n-insib tuascertachaib in domain oc foglaim druídechta 7 fessa 7 fithnaisechta 7 amainsechta, combtar fortaile for cerddib suíthe gentliuchta. Combtar iat Tuatha Dé Donann táncatar Hérind’ (129/ll. 1130-35). Show influence of Xian knowledge of heathens to the North? Prose account to 289 and further interesting poetry thence: ‘it was not known under starry heaven whether those men / were of heaven or earth’ (289), ‘Donann, mother of the gods’ (291), etc. Yeah, dead handy this one for raising Xianisation issues. Also poem 293ff. Lots of whiteness/brightness. Does travel on a cloud rather than a boat turn up in Norse? 297 seems to set some of the Tuatha Dé up as ‘gods’, also 302: check these out with due care… ‘Three days and nights thereafter the sons of Mílid won the battle of Sliab Mis against the demons, that is, against the Tuath Dé Donann’ (311). NB appendix reading, 437ff., esp. 448.

‘…Chance did not bring that about, but Christ’s birth broke the power of the idols’ (285). Useful?

Sláne of the Fir Bolg ‘died in his fair mound’ (281, verse 2) hmm, interesting?

*Carey, J., ‘Notes on the Irish War-Goddess’, Éigse, 19 (1983), 263–75.

Carey, John (ed. and trans.), ‘Scél Tuáin Meic Chairill’, Ériu, 35 (1984), 93-111. ‘Many redactions; prev. ed. based on late; this on early: ‘I have attempted to reconstruct as nearly as possible the readings of X’ (100). ‘The language of ST is in most respects very close to that of Trip.; some features suggest that it should be placed somewhat earlier. All of the evidence taken together seems to point to a date in the second half of the ninth century’ (97). ‘Other aspects of the tale will be of particular interest to scholars examining the sources of Irish pseudohistory. I should like to call attention to the fact that the Tuatha Dé are not euhemerized in ST, but conjectured to have been fallen angels; it is also noteworthy that the tale contains no trace of the LG doctrine that the Fir Bolg and the Tuatha Dé are descended from Nemed’ (99). Entitles it ‘Incipit Imcallam Tuáin fri Finnia’ (101)/ The colloquy of Tuán with Finnia’ (105). ‘Beothecht son of Iordanen took this island from the peoples that were in it. Of them are the Gáilióin, and the Tuatha Dé and Andé, whose origin the men of learning do not know; but they thought it likely that they are some of the exiles who came to them from Heaven’ (106)/ ‘gabais Beothecht mac Iodanen in n-insi seo forsna cenéla bátar inti. Is díib in Gáliún 7 Tuatha Dé 7 Andé dona fes bunadus lasin n-oes n-eólais. Acht ba dóich leo bith din longis dodeochaid de nim dóib’ (102).

Carey, John, ‘A New Introduction by John Carey to Lebor Gabála Érenn, The Book of the Taking of Ireland, edited and translated by R. A. Stewart Macalister’ how to refXXXX!! ‘an additional intro to a reprint of vol xxxiv’! ‘Irish literature itself preserves various ideas which are probably at least to some extent reflections of pre-Christian doctrine: this seems for instance to be the most plausible interpretion of traditions that the first Gaels in Ireland made peace with the gods of the land in order successfully to raise their crops and herds, or indeed internarried with the divine race. Such a view even of this material, however, cannot be more than a conjecture’ (2). 2 gives refs for 1st invaders internarrying with Tuatha Dé. Notes important antecedents in De civitate Dei, Historiae adversum paganos and Jerome’s trans of Eusebius’s Chronicle (2-3). Check re HS. Antecedents also attested in Historia Brittonum (3-4); ‘It is interesting that neither the Fir Bolg nor the Tuatha Dé Donann [sic] (Section VI-VII), groups of great importance in LGÉ, figure at all in this initial sequence [in HB]; the former do however appear among a list of subsequent settles in the person of the colonist Builc, whose name is evidently a reinterpretation of the collective designation Builg (=Fir Bolg)’ (4). Scál Tuáin meic Chairill next in line and closer to LG (4-5).

‘LGÉ’s immediate popularity is reflected in the extraordinarily rapid proliferation of copies and revisions. Within a few generations of its first appearance, most of the main branches of the textual tradition seem already to have been in existence. Its version of Ireland’s history became the canonical one, and erlier legends were modified accordingly. To give just two examples: successive versions of Scél Tuáin were adapted in light of the doctrines of LGÉ; and parts of LGÉ’s account of the arrival of the Tuatha Dé Donann were added to the Old Irish tale Cath Maige Tuired (“The Battle of Mag Tuired”) in order to anchor it within a larger historical context’ (6).

Carey, John, 'Sequence and Causation in Echtra Nerai', Ériu, 39 (1988), 67-74. Discussing etymology of samuin. 'The solution which I propose is suggested by a detail in the account of Nera's first return to Ráth Cruachan:
'How will it be believed that I have gone into the síd?' Said Nera. 'Take the fruits of summer (toirthe samraid) with you,' said she. So he brought crem with him, and sobairce and buiderad.
The identification of the plants in question is not wholly certain, although a rendering 'wild garlic and primroses and buttercups' is probably close to the truth [citing DIL n. 21]. In the absence of precise botanical data, we are fortunate in having literary evidence associating two of these plants more or less closely with the beginning of summer, the points opposite Samain in the annual cycle. Various legal glosses specify that the craumfes or crim(f)es, explained as meaning 'garlic-feast', was consumed 'in the season when the crem comes' (an tan ticc in crimh), in other words, 'at Easter' (ar chāiscc) or 'at the boundary between spring and summer' (a coicrīch erraigh 7 tsamraigh). Similarly, the only other instance of buiderad cited in DIL, occuring in a rosc in Brislech Mór Maige Murthemni, compares Cú Chulainn's hair to 'buiderad on which the sun shines, on a summer day in the middle of May'. The point of our passage, clearly, is that winter 'here' corresponds to summer 'there'.' (72) cf. similar motifs with apples and branches in other OIr texts, cited (72).

*Carey, John, ‘Otherworlds and Verbal Worlds in Middle Irish Narrative’, Proceedings of the Harvard Celtic Colloquium, 9 (1989), 31–42

*Carey, John, ‘Ireland and the Antipodes: The Heterodoxy of Virgil of Salzburg’, Speculum, 64 (1989), 1–10. Cf. Smyth on this tho’.

*Carey, John, ‘Myth and Mythography in Cath Maige Tuired’, Studia Celtica, 24–25 (1989–90), 53–69

*`A Tuath Dé miscellany', Bulletin of the Board of Celtic Studies 39 (1992) 24-45

Carey, John, ‘The Uses of Tradition in Serglige Con Culainn’, in Ulidia: Proceedings of the First International COnference on the Ulster Cycle of Tales, Belfast and Emain Macha, 8–12 April 1994, ed. by J. P. Mallory and Gerard Stockman (Belfast, 1994), pp. 77–84.

Carey, John, ‘Native Elements in Irish Pseudohistory’, in Cultural Identity and Cultural Integration: Ireland and Europe in the Early Middle Ages, ed. by Doris Edel (Blackrock: Four Courts Press, 1995), pp. 45–60. 53–54 re wobbliness on origin of Tuatha Dé—demons? men? ignored? ‘There is an inevitable artificiality in accounts of how the gods came to Ireland, with the attendant need to fit them into the same series of settlements which includes Cesair, Partholón, Nemed, and the Fir Bolg. Surely they were always there, an ineradicable part of the land whose powers they are: they do not come “from” anywhere, any more than the Fomoiri seem to do—and indeed the line which separates the Tuatha Dé from the Fomoiri is sometimes a hazy one [with a coupla refs]. We may never be able to reconstruct all of the stages through which indigenous tradition and learned historiography were woven together to create the scheme which we find in Lebar Gabála; but one feature in its account is likely to be an old one. However they got there, the Tuatha Dé rule Ireland when the Gaels arrive. The new land belongs to the immortals, inhuman powers whose weapons are magic and illusion; Ireland, before the Gaels can win it for themselves, is itself a kind of Otherworld’ (54).

Carey, John, ‘Cú Chulainn as Ailing Hero’, in An Snaidhm Ceilteach: Gnìomharran 10mh Comhdhail Eadar-Nàiseanta na Ceiltis, Imleadhar a h-Aon Cànain, Litreachas, Eachdraidh, Cultar/Celtic Connections: Proceedings of the Tenth International Congress of Celtic Studies, Volument One, Language, Literature, History, Culture, ed. by Ronald Black, William Gillies and Roibeard Ó Maolalaigh (East Linton: Tuckwell, 1999), pp. 190–98.

Carey, John, ‘Werewolves in Medieval Ireland’, Cambrian Medieval Celtic Studies, 44 (Winter 2002), 37–72. Re pitóndacht, from Scéla na Esérgi (‘Tidings of the Resurrection’) ed. Stokes RC 25 1904 232–59 at 250, though Carey cites from Best and Bergin, Lebor na Huidre 1929 ll. 2702–10. Resurrection is according to the Scéla ‘not the same as the one whose name in the authority (isind augtartas) is [i] prestrigia. i.e., fictitious resurrection (exergi fuathaigthi), as in pythonism (am- in pitóndacht)’ (44); ‘…pitóndacht, which does not seem to occur elsewhere in Irish, is an abstract noun based ultimately on the use of the word pytho in Late Antiquity to designate a diviner, or a diviner’s familiar spirit. [note amongst other things cfs. Deuteronomy 18.11; 2 Kings 21.1; I Samuel 28.8ff.; Isial 8.19, 19.3, 29.4] Discussing the biblical story of how a witch summoned up the ghost of the prophet Samuel, in his treatise De Mirabilibus Sacrae Scripturae … (written in 655) the Irish theologian known as “Augustinus Hibernicus” asked: “How then is Samuel said to have been raised up by a prophetess (pythonissa), since the prophetess is seen to have used devilish incantations and delusions (daemoniasic incantationibus et praestrigis)’ (45).

64–68 dead interesting on female werewolves in Bretha Crólige (‘Judgements of Blood-Lying’), ‘a work conerned with the care and maintenance of those who had been seriously injured’ (64). Citing Corpus Iuris Hibernici, ed. by D. A. Binchy, 6 vols with continuous pagination, Dublin 1978, 2294.35–95.4 and stuff in Binchy 1934–38, 26 §32. ‘The text includes a list of twelve types of woman to whom such entitlement was denied: // The woman who turns the streams of war backward, the hostage ruler (?), one rich in miracles, a woman who cuts [with satire?], a female artisan, one revered in the kingdom, a female physician of the kingdom, one sharp in her words (birach briatar), a wandering(?) woman (ben foimrimme), a wold of wolf-shape (confæl conrecta), one deranged, one frenzied. // There are many obscurities here, but the general idea seems to be that these were women whose anomalous status made them for [65] various reasons an unduly high risk; they were to be nursed only by their own families. A further passage indicates that this was especially so in the case of three of them: // For three of these women, their nursing is paid according to the rank of their marriage, i.e. one sharp in her words, and a wold (confaol), and a wandering(?) woman. This is why they are not borne off on sick-maintenance according to Irish law: because no one dares go surety [to guarantee against] a crime [due to] their boldness. // In the case of these three, the threat which they posed is present in the glosses as being supernatural or quasi-supernatural: the woman “sharp in her words” is identified as a satirist; and the “wandering(?) woman” is described as consorting with the people of the síde [n. 109 rather long, on this subject]. A further gloss on the second passage lists the dangers which the trio collectively posed as “satire, and killing livestock, and summoning demons” (ær[a]chas 7 marb- indili 7 toc[h]uirui[d] demna)’ (64, citing Binchy 1978 p. 2295.26–28, cf. 1934–38 28 §34). whew. A bit more on síde and wolves 67.

Carey, John, King of Mysteries: Early Irish Religious Writings, rev. edn (Dublin: Four Courts Press, 2000)

Carlson, Signe M., ‘The Monsters of Beowulf: Creations of Literary Scholars’, Journal of American Folklore, 80 (1967), 357–64. Usual deal of looking at translations and finding more monstrosity than perhaps warranted. Fair enough. From the perspective of demythologising Grendel and his mum! Alas! She believes in dragons! But has somefair points too; NB and check out ‘Fīfelcynn … is most frequently defined as “a race of (sea) monsters”. American, British, and German dictionaries record the fact that the fīfel is derived from or related to the Icelandic (Old Norse) fífl, meaning either ‘fool, clown, boor’ or ‘monster, giant’, but three Scandinavian-edited dictionaries of Old Norse and Icelandic do not suggest meanings of ‘monster’ or ‘giant’. They give ‘simpleton’, ‘fool’, ‘clown’, and ‘madman’ for fífl…’ (360). Reckons no-one’s considered this possibility. Hmm.

*Carmichael, D. L. et. al. eds, Sacred Sites, Sacred Places (London, 1994)

Carney, James, Studies in Irish Literature and History (Dublin, 1955)97-98 re Irish stories in which warrior dives into pool to fight water-monster, rather different from waterfall in Grettis saga etc—and, I might add, haug-breaking. Suggests Irish infl, and that sounds OK to me here. This has been reconsidered in recent SPeculum, no? 102-114 re Line 112 bit. Goes for Sex aetates 103-6; Isidore source for that 106-111. But the Isidore source wobbly to start with: ‘The Irish author having drawn upon Isidore for the torothair of his title, and for the first three specific types mentioned in [107] Isidore’s work, giants, dwarfs, and those suffering from grossness of a single part of the body, then included all Isidore’s subsequent types in a single category: “every misshapen form that people are wont to have”.’ (107).

Carpenter, Humphrey (ed.), Letters of J.R.R. Tolkien: A Selection (London: Allen & Unwin, 1981). 1 November 1963 to Michael Tolkien: I remember clearly enough when I was your age (in 1935). I had returned 10 years before (still dewy-eyed with boyish illusions) to Oxford, and now disliked undergraduates and all their ways, and had begun really to know dons. Years before I had rejected as disgusting cynicism by an old vulgarian the words of warning given me by old Joseph Wright. 'What do you take Oxford for, lad?' 'A university, a place of learning.' 'Nay, lad, it's a factory! And what's it making? I'll tell you. It's making fees. Get that in your head, and you'll begin to understand what goes on.' Alas! by 1935 I now knew that it was perfectly true. At any rate as a key to dons' behaviour. Quite true, but not the whole truth. (The greater part of the truth is always hidden, in regions out of the reach of cynicism.) I was stonewalled and hindered in my efforts (as a schedule B professor on a reduced salary, though with schedule A duties) for the good of my subject and the reform of its teaching, by vested interests in fees and fellowships.

Carr, Charles T., Nominal Compounds in Germanic, St Andrews University Publications, 41 (London, 1939).

Carrigan, Anthony, Postcolonial Tourism: Literature, Culture, and Environment, Routledge Research in Postcolonial Literatures, 33 (New York: Routledge, 2011).

Carroll, Hamilton and Annie McClanahan, `Fictions of Speculation: Introduction', Journal of American Studies,  (), –.XXXXX doi:./S 'We thus argue that the complex origins and calamitous effects of contemporary financialization have required the more capacious epistemologies available to so-called “genre fiction.” It is our contention that, far from limiting what such cultural texts can say about contemporary conditions, the formal, thematic, and tropological requirements of genre fiction (found across a range of media) have produced valuable representations of the political and economic present that require – and repay – serious analysis' (657).

Cartwright, Justin, Other People's Money (London: Bloomsbury, 2011).

Carver, Martin, ‘Conversion on the Eastern Seaboard of Britain: Some Archaeological Indicators’, in Conversion and Christianity in the North Sea World, ed. by Barbara E. Crawford, St. John’s House Papers, 8 (St. Andrews, 1998), pp. 11–40.

*Carver, Martin, ‘Why that? Why there? Why then? The Politics of Early Medieval Monumentality’, in Image and Power in the Archaeology of Early Medieval Britain, ed. by H. Hamerow and A. MacGregor (Oxford, 2001), XXXX

Cavell, Megan, Weaving Words and Binding Bodies: The Poetics of Human Experience in Old English Literature (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, (2016)

*Cavendish, Richard, The Powers of Evil in Western Religion, Magic and Folk Belief (1975). 244 re Proclus who might be important.

Cavill, Paul, ‘Bede and Cædmon’s Hymn’, in ‘Lastworda Betst’: Essays in Memory of Christine E. Fell with her Unpublished Writings, ed. by Carole Hough and Kathryn A. Lowe (Donington: Tyas, 2002), pp. 1–17. Taking on the arguments for Cædmon’s hymn as a trans from Bede, arguing that it’s a vernacular story. 4–5 interesting idea that as we’d expect the name to be /kadvon/, <Cædmon> reflects a written source (based on Jackson LHEB and an idea of Alex Woolf’s); moreover ‘It is arguable that the only point at which Bede had any difficulty with the story is when he comes to the Hymn itself, when he struggles to render an authoritative text, whether oral or written, and has to explain his procedure’ (5 n. 25), though obviously this doesn’t mean that our OE text is not a retranslation. Discusses the we problem and poss that uerc uuldurfadur is the subject 6–9, reckoning that ‘The extraordinary tenacity of Old English versions without we is the strongest evidence for an independent Old English Hymn’ (9)--well, only if you don’t mind the divergence in Bede’s trans. then...

Caviness, Dimitra-Alys A., ‘An Analysis of Pre-Christian Ireland Using Mythology and A GIS’ http://gis.esri.com/library/userconf/proc02/pap1030/p1030.htm This paper synthesizes cultural anthropology and archaeology: it promotes mythology as a historic source for archaeological research, and uses GIS to help interpret mythological and geographical data relevant to the Celts of pre-Christian Ireland. The ArcView program establishes correlation between geographic characteristics and pre-Christian Ireland's mythology, recorded in the dindshenchas - a collection of legends describing the origins of Irish place-names. Routes are predicted by ArcView using a cost analysis query procedure and sites from the dindshenchas known to associate with the roads, thus providing archaeological reference to the Five Roads of Tara, the ancient Seat of Ireland's High Kings

Cawley, A. C. (ed.), Everyman and Medieval Mystery Plays, 2nd edn Everyman's Library, 381 (London: Dent, 1957)

Caws, Peter, Structuralism: A Philosophy for the Human Sciences, 2nd ed. (New York: Humanity Books, 2000).

Cawsey, Kathy, `Disorienting Orientalism: Finding Saracens in Strange Places in Late Medieval English Manuscripts', Exemplaria, 21 (2009), 380--98.

Cederschiöld, Gustaf (ed.), Fornsögur Suðrlanda (Lund: Gleerup, 1884)

Cederschiöld, Gustav (ed.), Clári saga, Altnordische Saga-Bibliothek, 12 (Halle a. S.: Niemeyer, 1907), http://archive.org/details/clrisaga00cedegoog

Ceha, L. J., C. Presperin, E. Young, M. Allswede and T. Erickson, ‘Anticholinergic Toxicity from Nightshade Berry Poisoning Responsive to Physostigmine’, The Journal of Emergency Medicine, 15 (1997), 65–69. ‘A 4-year old girl was brought to the emergency department with signs and symptoms consistent with anticholinergic poisoning. The mother suspected an ingestion 15 min prior to arrival of multiple orange-and-red berries from a climbing vine located in the backyard. The patient was found supine and uttering incomprehensi[66]ble sounds in the garden. The patient vomited once en route to the hospital. // On examination, the patient was nonverbal, responding only to painful stimuli’ (65–66, with more details 66, including fast heart rate).

Chadwick, H. Munro, The Heroic Age, Cambridge Archaeological and Ethnological Series (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1912). First use of 'heroic' in the prose of the book: 'The type of poetry commonly known as heroic is one which makes its appearance in various nations and in various periods of history' (vii). That's as close as he ever comes to defining 'heroic' it seems! But all sorts of implicit criteria are apparent--secular subjects, for a start. The idea of 'heroic' Biblical verse etc doesn't seem to be present. 'It is fully in accord with these facts that the heroic poems are not concerned at all or at least only to a very slight degree -with local or tribal interests. Their tone indeed may be described as in a sense international, though with the restriction that characters and scenes alike are drawn exclusively from within the Teutonic world' (40)--sees a striking lack of national affiliation in the material, which strikes me as at odds with the migration myth angle; cf Hiatt 2009. Argues for aristocratic audience and in doing so alludes to the rather flat tone which I associate with early Bwf crit: 'strong aristocratic tone', named women all royal, non-aristo characters rare and unnamed; details of court etiquette; 'persons of royal rank are very seldom spoken of with disrespect' (82); 'Of immoral or unseemly conduct we have no mention. Indeed, except in the story of Weland--which stands by itself in many [83] ways, as we shall see later--such subjects seem to be studiously avoided' (82-83). Amazing assumption that aristos never talk about unseemly stuff, whereas presumably other social groups do. Though to be fair that doesn't mean it's wrong. 'Dignity and polish of style' (83). 'In the Heroic Age on the other hand we have references not only to 'ancient poems' but also to original compositions, dealing with the praise of fortunes of living men ... It is to such compositions that heroic poetry--indeed in a sense we may say the Heroic Age itself--owes its origin' (87). Perceives 4 stages for heroic poetry: 1 court poems of the Heroic Age; 2 'epic and narrative poems based on these'; 3 'the popular poetry of the eighth and following centuries'; 4 C12- German poems one heroic subjects are back in fashion (94) (and heroic parts of the Poetic Edda, 99). Hmm. Ch 15, p. 320ff 'The characteristics of heroic poetry' useful for understanding his definitions. Also relies on historicity in analysis and categorisation of Homeric poems as heroic (320). Style and narrative technique prominent. Thirst for fame, glory as 'incitement to bravery' (325-27 at 326); pride in noble ancestory 327-28. 'Lastly, the heroic spirit shows itself in the exhortations of princes to their followers' (328). 'In both cases alike the leading idea of the Heroic Age may be fittingly summed up in the phrase κλέα ἀνδρω[hat]ν. This is practically the equivalent to the Anglo-Saxon dom ... It is essential to notice that the object so much prized is personal glory' (329). Love of home/patria but not of 'national pride' (331)--Maldon emphasises national, not individual glory (332). Personal experience rather than experience of office; experience rather than effect on subsequent generations (333-34); heroes motivated by love, revenge 'or personal bravery' (333). 'It is the fact that the interest of the heroic stories was both individual and universal--i.e. that it lay in individuals not essentially bound up with a given community--which fitted them for international circulation' (336). develops this into a counter-narrative to historians' search of migration and 'constitutional' changes--a state-led attitude to the past--Chadwick's instead developing more of a 'big man' history of the Dark Ages (337-). This accounts for character's enthsiasm for nicking stuff off dead foes; moving to ch 16 'Society in the Heroic Age' 344 ff. and ch 19 'The Causes of the Heroic Age'. 'We may now briefly summarise the results of this discussion. The salient characteristic of the Heroic Age, both in Greece and in northern Europe, appears to be the disintegration of the bonds of kinship, a process which shows itself chiefly in the prevalence of strife between relatives, and which in both cases is probably connected with a change in the organisation of the kindred agnatic relationship having come gradually to take the place of cognatic. How far this process affected society as a whole we cannot tell, since our evidence is generally limited to the royal families. The binding force formerly possessed by kinship was now largely transferred to the relationship between 'lord' and 'man' (dryhtenpegn, ava% Oepa-n-tov}, between whom no bond of blood-relationship was necessary. The comitatus was probably not developed in Greece to the same extent as it was in northern Europe; indeed in regard to social development generally the conditions in Greece seem to have been more primitive. Yet in individual cases the bond between lord and man was apparently the strongest force of which we know' (365). 'The Heroic Age, both Greek and Teutonic, presents us with the picture of a society largely free from restraint of any kind. In the higher ranks tribal law has ceased to maintain its force ; and its decay leaves the individual free from obligations both to the kindred and to the community. He may disregard the bonds of kinship even to the extent of taking a kinsman's life ; and he recognises no authority beyond that of the lord whose service he has entered. The same freedom is exhibited in his attitude to the deities' (462); 'But above all we have to remember the heroic poems. It is not reasonable to regard the Anglo-Saxon poems, much less the Homeric poems, as products of barbarism. The courts which gave birth to such poetry must have appropriated to a considerable extent the culture, as well as the wealth and luxury, of earlier civilisations. It is to be remarked however that the hold which these poems have exercised on subsequent ages, in very different stages of culture, is due not only to their artistic qualities but also to the absorbing interest of the situations which they depict. This interest arises very largely from the extraordinary freedom from restraint enjoyed by the characters in the gratification of their feelings and desires and from the tremendous and sudden vicissitudes of fortune to which they are exposed. The pictures presented to us are those of persons by no means ignorant of the pleasures and even the refinements of civilised life, yet dominated by the pride and passions which spring from an entirely reckless individualism and untrained by experience to exercise moderation. According to the view put forward above the explanation of such features is to be found not so much in any peculiarly fertile gift of imagination by which the conventional court poetry of these periods was inspired, but rather in the circumstances of the times and in the character of the courts which produced that poetry' 463)--and so the book ends.

Kershaw, Nora, Stories and Ballads of the Far Past (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1921), https://www.gutenberg.org/files/33471/33471-h/33471-h.htm.

Chadwick, Nora K., ‘Norse Ghosts: A Study in the Draugr and the Haugbúi’, Folk-Lore, 57 (1946), 50–65, 106–27 [Edinburgh Per. .39.fol.]

Chadwick, Nora K., ‘The Story of Macbeth: A Study in Gaelic and Norse Tradition’, Scottish Gaelic Studies, 6 (1949), 189–211 and 7 (1953), 1–25

Chadwick, Nora Kershaw, ‘Literary Tradition in the Old Norse and Celtic World’, Saga-Book of the Viking Society 14 (1953–57), pp. 164–99. [P592.c.21 NF6]. Stops waffling at 171. Arán/Arawn pp. 173-77. Saxo’s version has, as Chad puts it, Ásmundr and Ásvitr (Asuitus). Check when á got that ‘aw’ pronunciation. Presumably by the time of the OSL changes. Suggests hebridean story p. 177. 178-82 re wooing of Étaín (in Cín Dromma Snechta). Associates it with Helgi in the Eddaic Helgi poems and also Hrómunds saga Gripssons. Seems similar but hardly the basis for a useful connection. ‘In Norse the belief in rebirth is implied in many stories and poems’ (182). Sigurðarkviða en skamma st. 45; Starkaðr (?in HS). ‘In the Edda poem Helgakviða Hundingsbana II, the hero Starkaðr is the brother of Guðmundr, who dwells on Svarinshaugr. He is also descended from the álfar, Starkaðr Áludrengr having married Álfhildr, the daughter of King Álfr of Álfheimar, the region of Olaf Geirstaða-Álfr, as we shall see’ (183). 183-4 re rebirth of Olaf Geirstaða-Álfr; ‘His name means “Elf” (i.e. the soul of one awaiting rebirth of Geirstaðir’ (183), wow, a bit of a leap in interpretation there. Hmm, am I going to have to tackle this one? Oddly, I seem not to have notes from her ‘Norse ghosts’ article; seem to recall much overlap. It’s Olaf Geirstaðir-Álfr who is [implictly] reborn as St. Olaf Haraldsson in the Flateyjarbók account (183-4). ‘What follows makes it cler that St. Olaf was regarded in popular opinion as Olaf Geirstaðir-Álfr re-born’ (184; she quotes a passage which makes this seem pretty clear, Flat. II, 135 in 1860-8 ed.). Similar e.g. from Cín Dromma Snechta re Mongán being Finn mac Cumhaill reborn. Very interesting (184-5). Consider Lír/Llyr to be identical in origin with Hlér/Ægir (186), and Heimdallr with Manannán (186-7). Correspondences not unconvincing, and Rígsþula gets in on the scene which is handy as she points out (187-8)

Assocs land of síd with Ódáinsakr; woman invites hero to the land. Hmm, interesting vaguely. Infers that we must read haugar to correspond with síd mounds, lands of perpetual youth and bloom both (if you pick the right texts); ‘And here are the álfar, the souls of the unborn, who, like the Irish Étáin, the Norse Geirstaða-Álfr and Starkaðr, and Helgi, live again in other members of their families in later generations. Thus in fact these heroes do not die, but re-live for ever, having married the síd women, the daughters of Guðmundr, as Helgi marries Sigrún (finally, ritually, in the barrow). We never hear of a corpse or a ghost in the barrows in either Norse or Irish. The occupant is always a draugr in Norse, an animated corpse; in Irish a síd or supernatural being’ (196). reckons deep dark age roots for each, tho’ also stresses poss of Irish infl. on Norse (and not vice versa!) (198-9).

Chambers, R. W., Max Förster, and Robin Flower (eds), The Exeter Book of Old English Poetry (London: Lund, 1933)

Chambers, R. W., 'Beowulf and the "Heroic Age" in England', rept. in Man's Unconquerable Mind (New York: Haskell House, 1939), pp. 53-69. http://books.google.co.uk/books?id=_J-beSYEi8IC& It's not as good as the Iliad... but then the Iliad is good... and Chadwick has shown how 'in both we have a picture of society in its Heroic Age' (65) Doesn't offer any discussion of what it means by 'heroic age'--perhaps most useful just for showing pervasiveness of term (and perhaps influence of Chambers); and fundamental concern to compare with Iliad, so in that sense 'heroic age' perhaps means 'classical heroic age'. Basically about English race, and asserting the value of Bwf as part of their national story to a society inclined to look the the Mediterranean. No wonder Tolkien liked this article...

*Chambers, Robert, Domestic Annals of Scotland (Edinburgh, 1861)

*Champion, Timothy, ‘The Celt in Archaeology’, in Celticism, ed. by Terence Brown (Amsterdam: XXXX, 1996), pp. 61–78. XXXXthe collection may be more useful than the article.XXXX

Chance, Jane, Woman as Hero in Old English Literature (Syracuse: Syracuse University Press, 1986).

Chance, Jane, Medieval Mythography, 2 vols (Gainesville, 1994–2000). Reckons Alfred on Bethius v. unusual and stuff (211–13), following Wittig in ASE 11 (1983) and also using soemthing in Anglia 82 (1964) and other refs. Reckons main divergence in Orpheus, whereby Orpheus gets to be prototypical Xian or something, quite unlike Boethius (213–14), ‘This highly original interpretation of Boethius was itself based on Alfred’s confusion of the Furies or Eumenies—those avengers—with the Parcae or Fates—those who determine the the length of human life. This confusion may have guided Alfred’s interpretation of the moral and therefore the subsequent glossators’ analogous interpretation of all three epic heroes. If the Furies punish man by pursuing him only when he is guilty of a misdeed, but are equated with the Fates who govern the beginningm span, and end of each man’s life, then the whole of man’s life is [214] gloomy and punishing, a view characteristic of the Anglo-Saxon homilist. From this darklife the Christian convert would gladly escape into the paradisal light of the afterlife. Alfred defines “ultices deae,” the vengeful goddesses, as the Parcae who know no respect for any man, punish him for his deeds, and rule man’s fate: “Parcas, ða hi secgað ðæt on namum men nyt[on na]ne are, ac ælcu men wrecen [be his] gewyrhtu; þa hi secgað ðæt walden ælces mannes wyrde.” [Sedgefield 102] He may have made this mistake through a hasty reading of the firt Vatican mythographer wh juxtaposes the Furies (Mythogr. I 108/109) with the Parcae (109/110). [couldn’t we say the same of Isidore, maybe with intermediary fatae?]. Only Alfred and the anonymous St. Gall Minor make this mistake’ (213–14), see also n. 27 on pp. 552–53 (‘It is possible that Alfred used the first Vatican mythographer for this gloss, especially likely if the latter author was indeed Adanan the Scot, as has been speculated’; 553). All seems a bit fanciful, but maybe interesting in suggesting substrate goings on?

Chappel, Allen H., 'Saga af Viktor ok Blavus': A Fifteenth Century Icelandic Lygisaga. An English Edition and Translation, Janua linguarum, series practica, 88 (The Hague: Mouton, 1972). Sic re the lack of hyphenation in the title! V arrives by ship without sworn brother at Quenn Fulgida's, and takes 300 men to her feast. Upon proposal Q turns as red as blood and black as earth. One of her objections is that V just pops the question, in public, which Sigrgarðr avoids; and doesn't offer any treasure. Then he offers it & Q cheers up (89). He's led to her bed where she waits, gets the treasure, and gives him the trick cup. Fulgida does the hair-cutting and tarring trick, has him flogged, and dumped in a forest. Kador takes V home and B takes the piss. A year passes and off V goes again disguised as an old man (91), specifically similar to Samarion (Kador's old boss), pretending to be a merchant, with Blavus's flying carpet. Flies queen, who's unwilling, to France (93), but she deceives him by flattery into stopping at a fruit tree, whereupon she pushes him off and flies home with the wealth V has pretended to be trading. It adds that she'd recognised V and boasts about it. V eventually gets home all knackered and thin and unrecognisable (does B actually fail to recognise him as in Jorgensen's 1997 summary or is B just taking the piss again?) (97). B offers to go instead and see to it so he and K go disguised as monks. The Q has a skin-disease (maybe in genitalia) and seeks the monk B's healing powers; B refuses (97). But eventually B says yes and says he needs to stay in Q's palace for 7 nights; as soon as he sings over her, her pain goes. He's watched over, but calls on Dimus the dwarf to sort that out; D breaks in with a landslide from the local mountain (99). Tells D to take Q home; Q recognises B as her half brother (by the same father); B sends her back in his own form (101). F goes back to France and V doesn't ask how it went because he assumes F is B and that it was bad. Blavus takes up government of India in form of Fulgida (103). King Solldan of Serkland comes to India to force F to marry him (103). F (ie B) agrees, and uses the marriage as an opportunity to snatch Solldan's daughter Rosida using the magic carpet (105). Solldan dies of misery but everyone hated him anyway. The real B gives away F in marriage to V, takes R back to Serkland which he rules with her, and they give India to K. They each have a son who they name as demanded by the vikings they killed earlier and the boys also become sworn brothers (107). They get the cool weapons their namesakes had born and go and fight the K of Denmark, Germineri. G wins, and we hear of his sons, the first of whom inherits the weapons--and oddly Íslendingasaga-sounding coda.

Charles, B. G., The Place-Names of Pembrokeshire, 2 vols (Aberystwyth: National Library of Wales, 1992)

Charles-Edwards, T. M., `Kinship, Status and the Origins of the Hide', Past & Present, 56 (August 1972), 3-33 http://www.jstor.org/stable/650470

Charles-Edwards, T. M. ‘Gildas has a famous reference to people whom scholars have interpreted as British bards. He denounces Maelgwn for allowing himself to be praised by panegyrists foaming at the mouth with mendacious flattery. Admittedly, Gildas was primarily concerned with the outrageous untruthfulness of the praises rather than with the language in which they were delivered. Yet there remains a contrast between the refinement of Maelgwn’s Latin education and his present situation, surrounded by bards whose lies were broadcast as undiscriminatingly as their spittle. Moreover, this contrast within the career of Maelgwn needs to be brought into relation with another contrast found in the inscriptions. While Irish was admitted in Britain to the [65] dignity of being used on memorial inscriptions, British was not. Further back in time, some evidence for British may be emerging in the curse tablets found at Bath, but such texts were very far from having the public status of memorial inscriptions in stone, as their cursive script and the context in which they were found demonstrate; and, moreover, no such texts have been found from the post-Roman period. They only reinforce the general epigraphic evidence for the lower social prestige of British’ (64-65).

Charles-Edwards, Thomas, ‘Anglo-Saxon Kinship Revisited’, in The Anglo-Saxons from the Migration Period to the Eighth Century: An Ethnographic Perspective, ed. by John Hines, Studies in Archaeoethnology, 2 (Woodbridge, 1997), pp. 171–210 (discussion being 204ff.). Reckons you get negative interaction (e.g. feuds) and positive (e.g. gift-giving) but not much in between—‘impersonal interaction’. This characterises modern bearocratic governance etc. but not ASE, at any point (172). Feond and freond have to be consistent—if you deal properly with your feondas they can expect you to bit a firm freond if you make peace (172). Ges on to discuss kin, feuds, bookland and hereitary right etc. etc. Didn’t read properly—skipped to conclusion. Mainly emphs at end that kinship works differently in different strata of society, which has tended to be overlooked. ‘As kinship was only one source of friendship, so different kinships offered different kinds of friendship: the brother of a king might be his rival, which the brother of a free peasant was much more likely to be his daily collaborator, in ploughing, in harvesting and in the sharing of scare tools’ (200). NB 206 for Paul.

Charles-Edwards, T. M., ‘Geis, Prophecy, Omen and Oath’, Celtica, 23 (1999), 38–59. Mainly re Togail Bruidne Da Derga, so check again if you work on that. Not much of interest re omens and prophecies in present context.

Charles-Edwards, T. M., Early Christian Ireland (Cambridge, 2000). ‘A corollary of slavery was that acceptable and organised violence was deployed only by the free, both aristocrat and client… Freedom, therefore, went with being a gaiscedach, an armed man’ (69). ‘Those who exercised a power regularly sustained by force and the threat of force were, therefore, free and male’ (71). Not usual for men to move onto wife’s land (which presumes that she’s a widow anyway), illustrated 103–4 re legendary Fergus mac Roig, who’s mocked ever after in at least some of the lit. because ‘ he had “pursued a woman’s loins across a frontier” ’ (103). ‘If Fergus’s honour was threatened by migration, so too was the honour of lesser men: they too were thought to have abandoned the kingdom of their forefathers—where their kinsmen lay in the ancestral cemetery—for sex’ (104) with refs. 105–6 on saga of Fergus mac Léti and the water-monster incident. Can’t remember why that was interesting. But makes it seem less bizarre the way TCE tells it. 106–12 on the household (muinter), could stand as description of women in soc and marriage and divorce. ‘There are enough references to druids in seventh and eighth-century Irish sources to make it plain that they were considered to have formed a powerful group in Irish society, but to have lost that position as a result of conversion. This sense of the druí as the principal opposition to Christianity appears to have been carried by irish missionaries to England in the seventh century, as indicated by the borrowing of druí [191] into English as dry ‘magician’.’ (190–91).

Chartier, Daniel, The End of Iceland's Innocence: The Image of Iceland in the Foreign Media During the Financial Crisis, trans. by Daniel Chartier (Ottawa: University of Ottawa Press, 2010) [first publ. La spectaculaire déroute de l'Islande: L'image de l'Islande à l'étranger durant la crise économique de 2008 (Québec: Presses de l'Université du Québec, 2010)], books.google.co.uk/books?id=5u2UF_dTw2YC&.

*Chartier, Roger, Cultural History (Cambridge, 1988)

Chase, Colin (ed.), The Dating of Beowulf (Toronto, 1981).

Chatterton, Paul, Low Impact Living: A Field Guide to Ecological, Affordable Community Building (London: Routledge, 2015)

*Chaudenson, Robert, Des îles, des hommes, des langues: essais sur la créolisation linguistique et culturelle (Paris: L’Harmattan, 1992)

*Cherniss, Michael D., Ingeld and Christ: Heroic Concepts and Values in Old English Christian Poetry (The Hague, 1972). 218 app. re Glcpoems—reckons heroic diction absorbed into the whole deal, Nbs that Glc himself doesn’t use it. Apparently.

Chesnutt, Michael, 'Aspects of the Faroese Traditional Ballad in the Nineteenth Century', in The Stockholm Ballad Conference 1991: Proceedings of the 21st International Ballad Conference, August 19-22, 1991, ed. By Bengt R. Jonsson, Skrifter utgivna av Svenskt Visarkiv, 12 (Stockholm: Svenskt Visarkiv, 1992), pp. 247-59 (also published as Arv: Scandinavian Yearbook of Folklore, 48 (1992), apparently--check.). Mention of Sigurðar saga not of interest (just one in a list of sagas balladised) but good general intro to where our Faroese ballad corpus comes from.

Chesnutt, Michael, `Bevussrímur and Bevusar tættir: A Case Study of Icelandic Influence on Faroese Balladry', Opuscula, 12 (=Bibliotheca Arnamagnæana, 44) (2005), 399-437 [sic re lack of italics in title]. 399-409 discusses when the Faroese ballads based on Icelandic sources were composed, arguing that 'A substantial number of poems draw on Old Norse-Icelandic material that [409] could have reached the Faroes in written form at any time up to the beginning of the seventeenth century. During the social and economic stagnation of the next two centuries the conditions for the reception of Icelandic literature in the Faroes were unfavourable, and the path was clear for an influx of Danish material (especially ballads of chivalry)' (408-9). 402-3 handily lists the 25 ballads with Norse-Icelandic analogues (predominantly RSS and FSS). Rest of the article says how mostly the influence was not via rímur but argues that the Faroes Bevus ballad is based on a lost ríma.

Chester-Kadwell, Mary, Early Anglo-Saxon Communities in the Landscape of Norfolk, BAR, British Series, 481 (Oxford: Archaeopress, 2009). Nothing very relevant to settlement stability that I noticed, but some interesting bits on stats.

Chickering, Howell D. Jr., ‘The Literary Magic of Wið Færstice’, Viator, 2 (1971), 83–104. [P532.b.41]. Rather meanders through the whole matter, lots of worrying at appoaches which seems not very useful. Assumes rheumatic pain (83). Commentators divided on whether to see in it valkyries, Weland, woden’s Wild Hunt (85—and more flly with refs 97-8). ‘More important, there is no convincing explanation of what kind of defensive magic is used in this “epic introduction”. In fact, it could be said that tis charm epitomizes the methodological difficulties that literary scholars face in dealing with an Anglo-Saxon anthropological document’ (85). ‘…the literary value of these lines is more comprehensible when they are seen as a dramatic verbal performance, in which the very act of saying creates its own magic’ (87). ‘The obvious alternative to a structural comparison would be an analysis of the role of the charm in its immediate cultural context. We do not, however, know enough about the physical setting and social meaning of such charm performances to arrive at a functionalis or a Contextualist expanation of this “epic introduction”. This seriously hampers a modern anthropological approach to this charm, since, after E. E. Evans-pritchard’s classic study, Witchcraft, Oracles, and Magic Among the Azande (1937), most cultural anthropologists agree that any full explanation of magic must include its total social context. // With so many contexts lacking, let us assume that the particulars of the charm itself contain its magic. This assumption is based on current anthropological thinking about magic as a world-wide phenomenon. Magical operations may be defined berysimply as stereotyped formulas or actions that influence events in the physical world’ (90). ‘Evans-Pritchard very plainly distinguishes magic from witchcraft by the fact that magic can be learned and that its power is located in its techniques and materials, while witches possess a special psychical power that can affect others without the aid of rites and spells’ (92)—interesting re divisions in ME material…

Seems to find wiþ fær a bit incoherent due to change of addressee in line 20 (94); ‘There is extensive comparative evidence, especially in the Finnish charms, that when charms are extemporaneous oral performances, the composition of a charm for a given ailment can vary widely in the selection of its themes, from singer to singer, so long as the themes, unrelated in themselves, all apply to the purpose at hand … Perhaps we should not assume any aesthetic necessity in this apparent thematic unity. // It is also likely that the themes of the “spear” and the “shot” are only generally similar. No commentator sees the “narrative allusions” that surround the “spear” refrain in the first half as references to the “elf-shot” in [95] the second half. Probably we should not even classify the whole charm as “against elf-shot” as do Bonser (158-160) and Grattan and Singer (175). It must be granted that der Alpenschuss is the broadest Northen European folk tradition of supernatural missiles causing illness, and that they arre often called arrows of darts (= lytel spere?); but in the seocnd part of the charm “elves” are only one of the three equivalent evil forces that are named. One might as well title the chrm “Against Witch-Shot” in the light of the supernatural women in the first part, the transitional reference to hægtessan geweorc (line 19), and haegtessan gescot (lines 24, 26) in the second part. Such a title would be an equally incomplete designation of the possible sources of the pain. Even if we accept Bonser’s transltion of færstice as “sudden puncture” (160-161), we cannot settle whether the puncture is due to elves or to witches (assuming for the moment the “mighty women” are in fact witches). Hence we cannot speak of a “unified theme” other than the shooting pain itself’ (94-5). What a load of old cobblers, it’s completely obvious that the ‘shot’ is a unifying thing—just this mad insistance on elf-shot as arrows and things sending folks astray. A handy example of the mess folks have made themselves—use it.

‘Medically, then, these herbs [in wiþ fær] would be helpful only for fever, sore throat, or lacerations. Magically, however, the nettle and the black heads of the ribwort plantain (Plantago lanceolata) resemble spears or arrows in shape. If the feverfew in the charm were centaury, it too might have had magical value because its seeds are in the shape of small spindles. It is possible that all three herbs were thought to attarct [sic] the lytel spere by similarities of shape. This is so common a characteristic of herbal magic in Europe that Renaissance herbalists elevated it to the “doctrine of signatures” ’ (96). Using Scand ev, ‘we can, if we please, posit a fairly coherent set of references throughout the charm to magical practices and beliefs related to Woden’ (99, cf. 98-9)—well, maybe so, but pretty wobbly, as he points out 99. ‘Any narrative coherence may come from the speaker being the main character in what little story there is. Wht looks like a set of mythic allusions may instead be an especially successful invention of the circumstances in which the speaker gains his magical power. The story may occur only in the present time of the charm, and its meaning may simply be that the spealer gains control over the lytel spere by imagining, and living within, this fragmented narrative of bad magic, and then successfullu resisting its malevolence. When we see further that the vexing references to the smiths can be plausibly explained as also part of the speaker’s magical practice, we can conclude that the possibility of a mythical story as a source of the speaker’s power is extremely unlikely. It is more likely that the imaginative force of his magical practice, that is, the literary power in the texture of the words, creates the special magic of the charm’ (99).

Line 19 hit=hyt ‘heat’ cf. Bwf 2649 (101). 101-4 fairly straight lit crit aimed to show how poem can be effective [as ‘magic’]. Not very useful. Annoying paper as much of what I’d like to see is lurking in background here (and in meandering discussion) but never foregrounded, made explicit and brought to bear on meaning of charm. Perhaps partly because of laudable (but excessive?) caution re context of utterance of this poem?

Chidester, David, Savage Systems: Colonialism and Comparative Religion in Southern Africa (Charlottesville: University Press of Virginia, 1996). 'The discipline of comparative religion emerged, therefore, not only out of the Englightenment heritage but also out of a violent history of colonial conquest and domination. Accordingly, the history of comparative religion is a story not only about knowledge but also about power. The disciplinary history of the study of religion is also ahustory of the discipline, a dramatic narrative of the discourses and practices of comparison that shaped subjectivities on colonized peripheries and at European centres. To borrow a phrase from Jonathan Z. Smith, the discipline of comparative religion was by no means an innocent endeavor.whether practiced on the colonized periphery or at the colonizing center, the study of religion was entangled in the power relations of frontier conflict, military conquest and reistance, in imperial expansion' (xiii). Comparative religion partly ammered out on the ground in frontier situations 'not by intellectuals aloof from the world, but by human eings engaged in religious conflicts on the ground' (xiv, cf. xiv-xv). Some stuff I don't quite get that seems to be about how Europeans needed to colonise to realise that Africans _had_ religion (xv) and the importance of indigenous comparativists on the frontier as well as colonising ones (xvi). 'Furthermore, I did not know that comparative religion in the nineteenth century provided terms for distinguishing among local people--the Xhosa were Arabs, the Zulu were Jews, and the Sotho-Tswana were ancient Egyptians--in ways that both transposed the Middle East onto the southern African landscape and conceptually displaced the indigenous people of sourthern Africa to the Middle East' (xv; cf. c. 169ff, maybe other bits too). Interesting. Discussing Robert Moffat (a nasty sounding missionary guy): 'In his reconaissance of all the indigenous people of southern Africa, Moffat found absolutely no religion. By explaining "Zoolah" [i.e. Xhosa] sacrifices as celebrations of ancient heroes, however, Moffat did propose a theory of religion, the ancient theory of Euhemerus, which accounted for the origin of religion in the elevation of cultural heroes to divine status. According to Moffat, Euhemerism could explain any hint of worship that might be found among the indigenous people of southern Africa. He held that the alleged [end of 184, picture on 185, next page with text 186] god of the Hottentots--Tsui'kuap, Uti'kuap, or Uti'ko--was only an "ancient hero". Among the frontier Xhosa, Moffat conjectured, the term Uhlanga referred either to the oldest of their kings or to "a deified chief or hero, like the Thor and Woden of our Teutonic ancestors". In these terms, Robert Moffat advanced the strongest, most sustained explanation of African beliefs and practices as the result of the euhemerisation deification of ancient cultural heroes' (184-84). This is a bit naughty because he's actually quoting Moffat's quotation of Thomas Pringle. (See Pringle 1839 [1834], 89.) This is perhaps significant because Pringle seems to have had fairly positive views of these things and is perhaps (i guess) trying to mediate Kafir ideas to a Western audience; this is perhaps quite different from what Moffat is trying to do; but I should investigate this stuff more closely. 220 re some guy called Tooke: 'Terms for a god, a chief spirit, or an ancestral progenitor appeared in Bantu vocabularies, but their meanings were uncertain' (220). 230 on Lévy-Bruhl's stuff on primitive mentality--sound pretty much exactly like what Habermas comes out with at the beginning of _Communicative Action_. Oh dear.
234-35 interesting re the idea that if you try to specify religion, the concept of superstition is inherent in doing so: some beliefs won't fall inside religion, and superstition is the category that they'll come into.
240-41 Bleek--philologist who argues that African religion is like original religion rather than degenerate. Early proponent of Africans as living fossils reading, which becomes dominant in late C19. 243 early C19, open frontier, Africans as having no religion; late C19 they have one (left over from early development of humanity), it's the same one for all of them, and they're wrong, with closed frontier. Both models involve superstition prominently.

Chiffoleau, Jaques, ‘Droit(s)’, in Dictionnaire raisonné de l’Occident médiéval, ed. by Jaques Le Goff and Jean-Claude Schmitt ([no placeXXXXX]: Fayard, 1999), pp. 290–308

Christiansen, Reidar Th. The Migratory Legends: A Proposed List of Types with a Systematic Catalogue of the Norwegian Variants. FF Communications 175. Helsinki: Suomalainen tiedeakatemia, 1958.

Reidar Th. Christiansen, “The People of the North,” Lochlann: A Review of Celtic Studies 2/Norsk tidsskrift for sprogvidenskap, supplementary volume 6 (1962), 137–164 (including a translation of the text by Kevin Ó Nolan pp. 155–164), at 151; this was reprinted from Monumenta Germaniae Historica, Scriptores 15.1 (Hannover: Hahn, 1883), available at , 502–506.

Christiansen, Eric, The Norsemen in the Viking Age (Oxford: Blackwell, 2002). re Xian God, ‘This god was not averse to large-scale devastation and bloodshed, any more than were Odin or Thor. He had armies of martyrs and saints ranged in his city, as well as stores of wisdom and rewards after death and the service of rulers on earth. His ascendancy over the other gods could hardly have been a shock within societies used to judging gods by the efficacy and “putting one before the others” on the basis of the resulted, as Adam of Bremen reported’ (267). ‘About five hundred years earlier [before Cnut] this [the threat of the dead] was acknowledged in the words on thr Flistad stone, in Västergötland:

BEWARE THE DEAD DESTROYER

—the aptrganga or draugr in Icelandic literature’ (286, no ref).

Christys, Ann, Vikings in the South (London: Bloomsbury, 2015)

Ciklamini, M., ‘The Combat Between Two Half-Brothers; A Literary Study of the Motif in Ásmundar saga kappabana and Saxonis gesta Danorum’, Neophilologus, 50 (1966), 269–279, 370–79 DOI 10.1007/BF01515206, 10.1007/BF01515217. On Ásmundar saga, 270: ‘I shall then discuss Asmund. ’s unsophisticated version of the tale and its literary adaptation to the taste of an undemanding peasant audience.’ Ouch! First set of pages a detailed and pretty convincing account of why the saga’s lame—a cut above the usual dissing FSS/RSS and worth noting for that.

Cisne, John L., `How Science Survived: Medieval Manuscripts' "Demography" and Classic Texts' Extinction', Science, 307 (February 2005), 1305--7, DOI: 10.1126/science.1104718

Cisne, John L., `Response to Comment on "How Science Survived: Medieval Manuscripts' `Demography' and Classic Texts' Extinction" ', Science, 310 (December 2005), 1618, DOI: 10.1126/science.1117724

Cisne, John L., Robert M. Ziomkowski and Steven J. Schwager, `Mathematical Philology: Entropy Information in Refining Classical Texts' Reconstruction, and Early Philologists' Anticipation of Information Theory', PLoS ONE, 5.1 (2010), e8661. DOI:10.1371/journal.pone.0008661

Clancy, Thomas Owen, ‘The Real St Ninian’, The Innes Review, 52 (2001), 1–28. 1–2 disses the way the historians of early medieval Scotland have clung to SS lives trying to believe them; these have also tended to set the research agenda. 2–5 on sources, the third of which, Aelred of Rievaulx’s C12 Vita, seems to be based on an earlier life (as is the second early source, the Miracula poem in Triumph Tree), contains an English onomastic gloss, arguably from the source text (partly on the basis of the gloss ‘It has been argued that Aelred’s source was an English translation of an earlier Latin Life, but this seems unnecessary’, 5). Wonder if it’s interesting? Same source assumed to underly the C8 Miracula poem (labelled β pp. 22–23). Maybe underlain by a native bit of hagiography α (to account for some of the incidental details; 23). Ascribes the early source to the agency of Pehthelm, Whithorn’s first Northumbrian bishop, and assumed that Bede’s knowledge comes from Pehthelm, maybe in a letter or somesuch. Apparently, P was trained by Aldhelm at Malmes and was asked for advice by Boniface (6); no ref though. ‘Moreover, the account of Ninian’s mission to the souterhn Picts reflects the continuing memory within the Northumbrian church of their recent episcopal jurisdiction over the southern Picts, from the base of the bishopric at Abercorn on the Forth. ... Whithorn may easily have seen itself as its successor as the most far-flung Northumbrian see’ (7). Maybe want to regain their old jurisdiction. Little ev. for Ninian and what we have is extremely vague—may suggest invention? Certainly no reason to buy Aelred’s idea that Ninian was around at the time of St martin! (6–9). The miracles in the Miracula ‘involve people with English names exlusively—the Northumbrian settlers of the eighth century’ (9). No convincingly pre-C12 church dedications, place-names containing no Ninian refs (9–11)--and in particular, no eccles names of any sort near Whithorn (11–12). But if you do look for a prominent saint in that area, it’s definitively the Finnian (old scholarly convention)/Uinniau (new scholarly convention) figure, which in Thomas’s summary is one original saint who gets localised in different ways in different places and starts to be different figures, but who originally taught Columba and wrote a penitential which Columba used (12–14). The name seems to be from *Uindobarros or maybe *Uinnobarros, with a Brittonic hypocoristic *Uinniau. Original could be q- or p-Celtic but most people (basically apart from Padraig Ó Riain) seem to prefer Brittonic, and therefore identity as one of the many major C6 British monks grooving in Ireland (14–16). More pns refering to the dude in SW Scotland than anywhere else, mainly a concentration in Galloway and another in Ayrshire/Renfrewshire (17–18), with good parallels in the pers names there too (18–19). Also some relevant hagiographical production in the area re Finnian of Movilla (Ulster), who seems to be a figure relatively close to *Uinniau (19–20). Since that Ninian sources all go back to α (emph’d 20–25), he’s arguably just a misreading (23, 25).

Thomas gives a cautious revised narrative for Uinniau (25–): British, trains at or less likely founds Whithorn; goes to Ireland founding Movilla and Clonard, each of which develops its own cult of him (25). Clonard does best in the texual production stakes (25–26). Uinniau writes to Gildas and writes a penitintial, important ev for mid-C6 church. Columba trained in one of his Irish monasteries. Goes with death in 579, can’t remember why (26). Thoughts on spread of cult 26–27.

*Clancy, T. O., ‘Scottish Saints and National Identities in the Early Middle Ages’, in Local Saints, Local Churches, ed. by Richard Sharpe and A. Thacker (Oxford 2001) XXXXX sounds like it might say about use and abuse of saints’ cults in EME.

Clark, Cecily (ed.), The Peterborough Chronicle 1070-1154 (Oxford, 1958) [759.c.87.5]. sa 1127 re wild hunt.

‘Ne þince man na sellice þet we soð seggen; for his wæs ful cuð ofer eall land þet swa radlice swa he þær com—þet wæs þes Sunendæies þet man singað ‘Exurge, quare [50] obdormis, Domine?’—þa som þæræfter þa sægon 7 herdon fela men feole huntes hunten. Ða huntes wæron swarte 7 micele 7 ladlice, 7 here hundes ealle swarte 7 bradegede 7 ladlice, 7 hi ridone on swarte hors 7 on swarte bucces. Þis wæs segon on þe selue derfald in þa tune to Stanforde; 7 þa muneces herdon ða horn blawen þet hi blewen on nihtes. Soðfeste men heom kepten on nihtes; sæidon, þes þe heom þuhte, þet þær mihte wel ben abuton twenti oðer þritti hornblaweres. Þis wæs sægon 7 herd fram þet he þider com eall þet lente[n]tid onan to Eastren. / Þis was his ingang [Heanri of Peitowe’s]: of his utgang ne cunne we iett noht seggon.’ (49-50)

Clark, Cecily, ‘Onomastics’, in The Cambridge History of the English Language, Volume 1: The Beginnings to 1066, ed. by Richard M. Hogg (Cambridge, 1992), pp. 452–89. ‘Stability [of nomenclature] does not, however, entail being static, and semantic divorce from common vocabulary lays name-material especially open to phonological change, in so far as shifts [486] and reductions may be unrestrained by analogies with related lexical items and may at times be warped by random associations with unrelated but like-sounding ones. As a source of phonological evidence, name-material must therefore be treated with reserve’ and that’s all she says!

457 on semantic classification of themes into nobility/renown, national pride, religion, strength and valour, warriors and weapons etc. Also parallels with heroic verse diction 457-8.

*15 TI: Sir Orfeo: The Otherworld vs. Faithful Human LoveAU: Clark,-RosalindPB: 71-80 IN Storm,-Mel (ed.). Proceedings of the Medieval Association of the Midwest, II. Emporia, KS : Emporia State Univ., 1993. vii, 130 pp.AN: 1994068071Complete RecordIn Database: MLA Bibliography 1994-2004/03.

Clark, David, 'Old Norse Made New: Past and Present in Modern Children's Literature', in Old Norse Made New: Essays on the Post-Medieval Reception of Old Norse Literature and Culture, ed. by David Clark and Carl Phelpstead (London: Viking Society for Northern Research, 2007), pp. 133--51.

Clark, Stuart, Thinking With Demons: The Idea of Witchcraft in Early Modern Europe (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1997). ‘The implications of putting language issues first continue to disturb intellectual and cultural historians, and studies of [4] witchcraft have been slow to explore them. Yet one of the notions that has been called most into question is precisely the demand that a particular language-use must match up with external reality, in some ultimate fashion, if its users are not to be led into error. This has, indeed, been a fundamental shift away from the realist assumption that truths are discovered lying around in the world by sufficiently adept observers who then represent them in language, and towards the anti-realist observers who when represent them in language, and towards the anti-realist idea that they are made by language-use itself and then commended by members of speech communities who find them good to believe. The result has been that phrases like ‘the facts of the matter’ have become highly contentious as guides to the status of beliefs’ (3–4). ‘The assumption that beliefs in witchcraft were essentially incorrect—in the way I initially characterised them—has prevailed in witchcraft studies for so long because of an overriding,though largely unspoken, commitment to the realist model of knowledge. In this model, language is seen as a straightforward reflection of a reality outside itself and utterances are judged to be true or false according to how accurately they describe objective things. This kind of neutral reference to the external world is held to be the only reliable source of meaning and, indeed, the most important property of language. In consequence, it has been possible to account for witchcraft beliefs (like any others) in only two ways. First, they have been submitted, if only implicitly, to empirical verification to see whether they corresponded to the real activities of real people. With important exceptions, the answer has been ‘no’. The entity ‘witchcraft’ has turned out to be a non-entity, because for the most part it had no referents in the real world. Once tested in this manner, witchcraft beliefs have then either been dismissed out of hand as mistaken and, hence, irrational, or (and this is the second possibility), they have been explained away as the secondary consequences of some genuinely real and determining condition—that is to say, some set of circumstances (social, political, economic, biological, psychic, or whatever) that was objectively real in itself but gave rise to objectively false beliefs. These twin processes of falsification and explanation imply each other, of course. A mistaken [5] belief cries out for an account of why it continued to be held despite its falseness, other than because it was believed in; while explaining a belief away depends, logically if not actually, on a prior decision that it was incapable of self-support in terms of its reference to something real’ (4–5). ‘This may seem an excessively philosophical characterization of past witchcraft research, but it is borne out by the relative lack of interpretations of witchcraft beliefs in terms of either their intrinsic meaning or their capacity to inspire meaningful actions. Traces of realism can also be found in the still-repeated description of them [6] as ‘delusions’ and ‘fantasies’. For the situation to change, a different notion of language will have to be considered—in particular, that it should not be asked to follow reality but be allowed to constitute it. Here, the object of attention would become language itself, not the relationship between language and the extra-linguistic world. And the aim would be to uncover the linguistic circumstances that enables the utterances and actions associated with witchcraft belief to convey meaning. This would not, of course, transform impossibilities into possibilities, or mistakes into truths. Rather—and this is the crux of the matter—these distinctions would themselves become irrelevant; the idea of making them would no longer itself make historical sense. Witchcraft’s apparent lack of reality as an objective fact would simply become a non-issue, and the consequent need to reduce witchcraft beliefs to some more real aspect of experience would go away. This is not to say that the social, political, economic, biological, psychic (or whatever) elements in the history of witchcraft would go away too: only that these would become the idioms of witchcraft beliefs, not their determinants. Understanding these idioms would become the goal of an essentially interpretative enquiry’ (5–6).

Clark, Tom, A Case for Irony in ‘Beowulf’, with Particular Reference to its Epithets, European University Studies, Series 14: Anglo-Saxon Language and Literature, 402 (Bern: Lang, 2003). ‘This thesis springs from a belief that early Germanic poetry, especially Beowulf, is funnier, more playful, and more sophisticated—more cool even, more nonchalant in its sophistication—than has generally been acknowledged’ (15). ‘some epithets are ironic simply by virtue of the stance they adopt. There is no need for particularly close reading of contrastive passages in the text. The clearest examples of this second possibility are those instances where the Danes are criticised, whether it be for heathen practices, for internecine crimes, for disloyalty, et cetera. That is because the poem has set itself up as a narrative framework for appraising the behaviour of the “Spear-Danes”: hu ða æþelingas / ellen fremedon. Every shortcoming in the Danes is an ironic take on the stated focus of the poem. I suspect we can throw the behaviour of all other [135] nationalities into the same basket: the Geats, the Swedes, the Eotenas, the Frisians, the Heatho-Bards, the Langobards, the Wulfings, the Wægmundings, the Wendlas: all those nations provide æþelingas whose ellen is up for appraisal in the oem. Every criticism endorsed by this poem, for whatever reason, of every heroic figure compounds the irnony of that opening sentence’ (134–35).

Clark Hall, John R., A Concise Anglo-Saxon Dictionary, 4th rev. edn by Herbet D. Meritt (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1960).

*Clarke, D. E. Martin (ed.), The Hávamál (Cambridge, 1923)

Tim Clarkson, ‘Locating Maserfelth’, Heroic Age, 9 (2006), http://www.heroicage.org

Clayton, John, W. Thompson Watkin, Emil Hübner, George Stephens, ‘On the Discovery of roman Inscribed Altars, &c., at Housesteads, November, 1883’, Archaeologia Aeliana, n. s. 10 (1885), 148­­­–72.

*Clayton, M., The Cult of the Virgin Mary in Anglo-Saxon England (Cambridge, 1990).

Clayton, Mary, ‘Ælfric’s Judith: Manipulative or Manipulated?’, Anglo-Saxon England, 23 (1994), 215–27.

Cleary, Joe, Realism after Modernism and the Literary World- System', Modern Language Quarterly 73 (2012), 255-68; DOI 10.1215/00267929-1631388. 'Already, however, it is clear that the current moment is propitious for some new critical evaluations of the intersecting First, Second, and Third World histories of both realism and modernism. The worlds of Lukács, Bakhtin, and Auerbach are no longer ours. But until new and less Eurocentric histories of real- ism of ambition equal to The Historical Novel, Rabelais and His World, or Mimesis are written, we shall continue to be mortgaged to them' (266).

Cleasby, Richard and Gudbrand Vigfusson, An Icelandic-English Dictionary, 2nd edn by William A. Craigie (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1957). s.v. álfr II ‘in historical sense, the Norse district situated between the two great rivers Raumelfr and Gautelfr (Albis Raumarum, et Gotharum) was in the mythical times called Álfheimar, and its inhabitants Álfar, Fas. i. 41, 384, 387, Fb. i. 23…’. Well, might be oddly near being right.

*The poems of Prudentius / translated by Sister M. Clement Eagan. Publ. info. Washington, D.C. : Catholic University of America Press, 1962-c1965.

LOCATION CALL NO. STATUS

Level 10 Main Lib Theology HB740 PRU vol. 1 IN LIBRARY

Level 10 Main Lib Theology HB740 PRU vol. 2

Clemoes, Peter, ‘Action in Beowulf and our Perception of it’, in Old English Poetry: Essays on Style, ed. by Daniel G. Calder (Berkely/London, 1979), pp. 147–68. 147 cited by Higley 1993. ‘Clemoes raises an issue important to literary studies of deixis without marshaling any of the [131] linguistic and pragmatic arguments that he could have [if they’re like yours, then good thing too], and that is the explicit inclusion of the reader (or hearer) within the point or points of view being presented. His argument is a simple one with complex implications…’ (130-131). Totally take her point re dodgey subjective readings of Bwf and Gawain scenes tho’. (her pp? Clemoes’s 147-8). But re bat under beorge bit, ’The embarkation is presented as a process of nature. We sense the fundamental character of this wilsið. The poet’s art lies in giving us a strong sense of the boat’s essential change without impeding it with any overlay of external description’ (152). Reckons this is apparent also in one of aldhelmS riddles (153) etc. Pursues this to a philosophy of ’the innate forces of nature’ (155) with ref to piccies, alfred and aelfric (153-5). okay. Re bwf 864b-65, ‘It would be quite foreign to the poet’s mentality to give the act of galloping any further description [than hleapan]. Movement for him is not a matter for objective examination and analysis, as it was to become in the Renaissance. His descriptive adverbs, for instance, make this plain. They are rare and when they occur—earfoðlice (1636), ellenlice (2122), fæste (760), georne (2294), hrædlice (963), hraþe (224), snude (2568), unmurnlice (449), unwearnun (741), yrringa (1565)—have to do primarily with the doer’s attitude to the action, his involvement in it, not with the impression which the action makes outside as a movement…’ (155). ‘Beings such as Grendel and the dragon are such powerful narrative images because action is fundamentally indivisible from actor. To the Anglo-Saxons innate menacing action was draconitas and the like. These beasts constitute the idea. That is their reality. That is why they are in the poem Beowulf and in the initials of the Tanner manuscript’ (156).

’Identity of actor and action has important consequences for characterization. Beowulf lack of fear when he is about to set out for his critical fight with the dragon is accounted for, not merely by a general reference to the many dangers which he has survived since his victories over Grendel and Grendel’s mother (2349b-54a), but also by recounting the positive actions he took to surmount two of the greatest of these dangers (2354b-96), because such past actions characterize irrevocably. They are part of the man. What has been done is part of the doer, whether that is a man or a sword, accumulating--like a man’s wisdom (indeed active experience is an essential part of that wisdom)--as the doer’s existence proceeds’ (160). Hmm, this story business very narrative therapy. Likewise the unferth episode—the point is to define an individual’s place in society by advertising variant narratives about him; the best-told wins. Cf. thing in that Oral Tradition collection. Tho’ that’s less narrative therapy and more just malleable stories to comprehend and change your place in society. Obvious enough really but too little applied to OE stuff. What was Lapidge’s response to this paper then? Objects as symbols of character/action nexus (amongst other things) but not too clearly expressed (166-7).

Clemoes, Peter, Interactions of Thought and Language in Old English Poetry, Cambridge Studies in Anglo-Saxon England, 12 (Cambridge, 1995).

Clover, Carol J., ‘Vǫlsunga saga and the Missing Lai of Marie de France’, in Sagnaskemmtun: Studies in Honour of Hermann Pálsson on his 65th Birthday, 26th May 1986, ed. by Rudolf Simek, Jónas Kristjánsson and Hans Bekker-Nielsen, Philologica Germanica, 8 (Vienna: Böhlau, 1986), pp. 79–84. Eliduc missing from Strengleikar and presumably not translated into that MS (imperfect MS but not enough space; longest of the lais so already distinctive). Sinfjötli using leaf to fix friend on pattern of weasels cf’d to Eliduc. Not elsewhere in Boberg Differences easily explained on literary grounds. So maybe Eliduc omitted from Strengleikar ‘cos the guy’s publishing it elsewhere, or it’s already in separate circulation (83). Sounds fair enough to me.

Clover, Carol J., ‘Warrior Maidens and other Sons’, Journal of English and Germanic Philology, 85 (1986), 35–49. ‘Clover … thought that valkyries were inspired by Icelandic women who were in an exceptional position, namely daughters in a family where there were no sons, and who therefore had to take the position of a son’. Hmm, chicken and egg of course, but you could read it in the other direction.

Clover, Carol J., ‘The Politics of Scarcity: Notes on the Sex Ratio in Early Scandinavia’, Scandinavian Studies, 60 (1988), 147–88; repr. in New Readings on Women in Old English Literature, ed. by Helen Damico and Alexandra Hennessey Olsen (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1990), pp. 100–34.

Clover, Carol J., ‘Regardless of Sex: Men, Women, and Power in Early Northern Europe’, Speculum, 68 (1993), 363–87. repr. in Studying Medieval Women: Sex, Gender, Feminism, ed. by Nancy Partner (Cambridge: XXXX, 1993), pp. 61–93. [SF2 245.b.99.14] App. argues that early Icelandic gendering is workers (mainly male) vs. women, children, infirm, etc. Chenged by ‘medievalisation’. V. interesting (esp. for social function of Wið Færstice). In long thing re how women get to do man stuff, ‘Normally there are enough examples of female graves with ‘male’ objects (weapons, hunting equipment, carpentry tools) to suggest that even in death some women remained marked as exceptional’ (368; normally?! Footnote alludes to some debate, citing Jesch book, 21–22, 30). ‘The examples could be multiplied, but even this summary list should suffice to prompt the paradoxical question: just how useful is the category “woman” in apprehending the status of women in early Scandinavia? To put it another way, was femaleness any more decisive in setting parameters on individual behaviour than were wealth, prestige, marital status, or just plain personality and ambition? If femaleness could be overridden by other factors, as it seems to be in the cases I have just mentioned, what does that say about the sex-gender system of early Scandinavia, and what are the implications for maleness? I have [369] no doubt that the ‘outstanding’ women I enumerated earler were indeed exceptional; that is presumably why their stories were remembered and recorded. But there is something about the quality and nature of such exceptions, not to say the sheer number of them and the tone of their telling, that suggests a less definitive rule than modern commentators have been inclined to allow’ (368–69). Esp between de jure and de facto status. Woman can become surrogate son if you have no others etc. etc. ‘I have hesitated over such terms as “femaleness” and “masculinity” in the above paragraphs, for they seem to me inadequate to what they mean to describe. The modern distinction between sex (biological: the reproductive apparatus) and gender (acquired traits: masculinity and femininity) seems oddly inappropriate to the Norse material—in much the same way that Cleasby-Vigfussion’s distinction between literal and metaphoric seems oddly inapposite to the semantic fields of the words blauðr and hvatr’ (370). 372ff moves on to concept of ‘man’. Good on níð 372–77 ‘cos she emphs that there are loads of other insults around less focused on by scholars. ‘Is power a metaphor for sex (so that the charge of poverty boils down to a charge of femaleness), as Meulengracht Sørensen argues, or is sex a metaphor for power (so that the charge of níð boils down to a charge of powerlessness)? Modern scholarship has tended to assume the former. I incline toward the latter, or toward a particular version of the latter. The insult complex seems to me to be driven, not by the opposition male/female per se, but by the opposition hvatr/blauðr, which works more as a gender continuum than a sexual binary. That is, although the ideal man is hvatr and the typical woman is blauðr, neither is necessarily so; and each can, and does, slip into the territory of the other’ (377). Partly goes with model which she refers to Thomas Laqueur, Making Sex… 1990 of a ‘one-sex’ model where male is ‘normal’ (377). ‘So the official story, the one told by medical treatises. Popular mythologie were (and to a remarkable degree still are) rather more fluid in their understanding of what parts match which’ (378). ‘The first lesson of the foregoing examples is that bodliy sex was not that decisive. The “conditions” that mattered in the north—[379]the “conditions” that pushed a person into another status—worked not so much at the level of the body, but at the level of social relations’ (379). ‘Scholars who try to distinguish the feminine from the effeminate by suggesting that the female role was ignominious only when it was assigned to a man and that women and female activities as such were not held in contempt are on shaky ground, for the sources point overwhelmingly to a structure in which women no less than men were held in contempt for womanishness and were admired—and mentioned—only to the extent that they showed some “pride” (as their aggressive self-interest is repeatedly characterized in modern commentaries). Again, it seems likely that Norse society operated according to a one-sex model—that there was one sex and it was male. More to the point, there was finally just one ‘gender’, one standard my which persons were judged adequate or inadequate, and it was something like masculine’ (379). ‘What finally excited fear and loathing in the Norse mind is not femaleness per se, but the condition of powerlessness, the lack or loss of volition, with which femaleness is typically, but neither inevitably nor exclusively, associated. By the same token, what prompts admiration is not maleness per se, but sovereignty of the sort enjoyed mostly and typically and ideally, but not solely, by men’ (379)—hmm, interesting re male cross-dressing in ASE? You gain power, not lose it, so it’s okay?

‘Let me take this a step further and propose that to the extent that we can speak of a social binary, a set of two categories into which all persons were divided, the fault line runs not between males and females per se, but between able-bodied men (and the exceptional woman) on the one hand and, on the other, a kind of rainbow coalition of everyone else (most women, children, slaves, and old, disabled, or otherwise disenfranchised men)’ (380). Fair enough but as she implicitly reckons, a bit unsubtle. 381–85 re old men shifting gender. 385– finishes with Xian FX on system—‘medievalisation’ (her ‘’ and mine!). ‘The documentary sources, dating as they do from the Christian period, are notoriously slippery, but no reader of them can escape the impression that the new order entailed a radical remapping of gender in the north. More particularly, one has the impression that femaleness became more sharply defined and contained … and it seems indisputably the case that as Norse culture assimilated notions of weeping monks and fainting knights, “masculinity” was rezoned, as it were, into territories previouslt occupied by “effeminacy” … (The expansion of the masculine was presumably predicated on the fixing of the female and her relocation at a safe distance.)’ (385). ie. in the direction of two-sex thinking, which has a long run-up to C18 (385–86).

Clunies Ross, Margaret, ‘The Myth of Gefjon and Gylfi and its Function in Snorra Edda and Heimskringla’, Arkiv för nordisk filologi, 93 (1978), 149–65. Erm, yeah, sees Gefjon as avatar of Freyja, sees Danish spin on both Bragi and Snorri’s tellings of stories, diff. uses in diff. sources, etc.

Clunies Ross, Margaret, ‘Concubinage in Anglo-Saxon England’, Past and Present, 108 (1985), 3–34. Re breaches of mund, in which offending man must pay woman’s guiardian, ‘It is difficult to tell how much punishment was meted out to the woman in these cases; presumably the laws’ silence indicates that her punishment was considered to be a private matter between herself and her [10] guardian’ (9–10; 9–11 covers other Gmc societies etc. including some nasty stuff but also Bonficae’s complaint that Mercians are too lax). Otherwise basically argues that Anglo-Saxon artisos did have concubinage, could choose whether or not to allow illegitimate kids to inherit, and that this produced tensions with church. Much as you’d expect.

Clover, Carol J., 'Telling Evidence in Njáls saga', in Emotion, Violence, Vengeance and Law in the Middle Ages: Essays in Honour of William Ian Miller, ed. by Kate Gilbert and Stephen D. White, Medieval Law and Its Practice, 24 (Leiden: Brill, 2018), pp. 175–88, {{DOI|10.1163/9789004366374_011}}.

Clunies Ross, Margaret, Skáldskaparmál: Snorri Sturluson’s Ars Poetica and Medieval Theories of Language (Odense, 1986). 55-58 re use of Elucidarius and infl. on vocab.

Clunies Ross, Margaret, ‘The Development of Old Norse Textual Worlds: Genealogical Structure as a Principle of Literary Organisation in Early Iceland’, Journal of English and Germanic Philology, 92 (1993), 372–85. ‘Although it would be facile to assert that Icelandic scholars and their patrons were driven only by self-interest, I think it can be shown that the desire to demonstrate respectability if not superiority of family connections played a very large part in the development of many kinds of writing in medieval Iceland’ (379)—fair enough, but maybe contrast in saying that they also want to Xianise?

Clunies Ross, Margaret, Prolonged Echoes: Old Norse Myths in Medieval Northern Society, 2 vols, The Viking Collection: Studies in Northern Civilization, 7, 10 (Odense: Odense University Press, 1994–98).

i 70: ‘The physical attributes of the gods as a class do not show the same kind of ambivalence as those of the giants, though individual deities, notably Óðinn, Loki and Þórr, have qualities that would be valued negatively if they belonged to members of a subordinate group. The point is, though, that the dominant class can use attributes that would otherwise be thought a point of weakness as a source of strength and power’ (i 70, citing Óðinn and Loki 70–72).

i 85–186 citable as her interpretation of myths as revolving centrally around issues of procreation, marriage and females as tokens in inter-group exchanges. On which basis it wouldn’t be surprising if elves had something to do with the whole deal…

35-8: mound burial as inherently pagan and significant. but she doesn’t develop the lines that I would. ‘We have already seen in Chapter 3 that the genealogical orientation of medieval Icelandic literature is broadly comparable with the dynastic histories of twelfth- and thirteenth-century France, particularly Northern France, and England’ (85). Hmm, does this tie in with the whole birth of prose history thing in Romancing the Past…? This the model for why sagas are prose?

‘In many cases, however, Icelandic writers reveal a range of essentially sympathetic attitudes towards the pagan past, and, perhaps jusr as significant as the fact of their sympathy, they do not refrain from remembering and representing it in their literary fictions. In fact, they frequently recreate the time before Christianity, often in a way that reflects the Christian modes of thought that under-pinned their general world view. In this respect, the advent of literacy gave Icelandic writers the freedom to recreate the past, incorporating oral traditions, while, it has been argued, the churchmen of much of the rest of medieval Europe often used literacy as a powerful tool in the selective “forgetting” of those parts of their past culture they did not regard as appropriate, by omitting them from the literate record. Those inappropriate parts, in most instances, had blatantly pagan associations or involved cultural practices of which the Church disapproved’ (ii 82).

‘Gerd Weber has probably done most in recent times to impress upon the scholarly world the extent of medieval Icelandic writers’ indebtedness to a Christian paradigm of history in their representations of local events. He points to a watershed effect in saga writing which distinguishes events that took place in the pre-conversion age from those that took place after it, when Icelanders had the advantage of the Christian faith and God’s grace to guide their lives. There is much evidence that saga writers were aware of this fundamental Christian distinction between those who enjoyed the advantages of Christian revelation and those who did not. The presence in many sagas of the figure of the “noble heathen”, who anticiptes Christian ideology and ethics though he lives before the time of Christian revelation, demonstrates this perspective in saga literature’ (ii 100). Can this be developed? And follow *Weber refs.

Vatnshyrna MS as displaying ‘an obvious taste for the supernatural’ (110). Does Pulsiano encyc have this—otherwise work out contents from MCRs prose.

Bárðar saga, Þórðar saga hreðu, Laxdæla saga all seem to have links, and appear together in Vatns/pseudo-Vatns. One link being Miðfjarður-Skeggi Skinna-Bjarnarson (114), whom she considerd to p. 121. ‘On the one hand there was pride in a specifically Icelandic share in the legendary past of Scandinavia, because Skeggi’s acquisition of a sword from a royal grave mound signifies, as we have seen in Chapter 2’s analysis of the significance of the haugr in Iceland, something approaching the transfer of royal power. And in Bárðar saga Skeggi’s relationship to the supernatural world is dignified and sympathetic. On the other hand, all these associations place him squarely in the pagan past and signal that he belongs to a world that has been supplanted by new ways and new beliefs’ (ii, 121).

Clunies Ross, Margaret, The Cambridge Introduction to the Old Norse-Icelandic Saga (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2010). 'The themes, characters and the whole world of the fornaldarsaga lend themselves to interpretation, not as realistic narratives, but rather as subjects dealing with deep and disturbing issues that cannot be approached from the perspective of the mundane world but must rather be enacted in a literary world in which often tabu subjects can be raised and aired, though not necessarily resolved. They may also be treated in a comic or parodic vein, as may many of the riddarasögur' (80). 'The Old Norse term riddarasaga' (81)--IS it an ON term?? Emphs Xian content and significance of RSS compared with FSS (82-83). 'Geraldine Barnes has characterised the chivalry displayed in the riddarsögur as "feudal" rather than "courtly", with an emphasis on the virtues of courage, loyalty, piety and modesty, along with a lack of interest in the ritual and emotion of love' (83). The four pp. on RSS are almost entirely about translated ones. The only comment on the local ones is: 'The indigenous riddarasögur can be thought of as taking inspiration from both the translated romances, in terms of their representation of the social world of their protagonists and the fact that any of them involve a man's quest for a bride, and from the fornaldarsögur in terms of some of the deep themes they treat, as well as the settings in which the protagonists experience a range of unusual and exotic individuals and events. The mise-en-scène is, however, usually closer to that of the translated romances than the fornaldarsögur, and the geographical settings of this group of sagas range widely from Europe to Asia. Like the translated romances, too, the indigenous riddarasögur are prose works, the only one to contain verse being 'The Saga of Jarl Mágus' (Mágus saga jarls), which includes three stanzas' (84)--but NB Jarlmanns saga verse too. 'The Old Norse term ''riddarasaga'' ... covers what were a number of genres in Latin, French and Anglo-Norman, but common to all of them are their courtly setting, their interest in kingship, and their concerns with the ethics of chivalry and courtly love. It seems, however, from a comparison between the French originals and the Old Norse translations of courtly romances, such as Chrétien de Troyes' ''Erec et Enide'' (''Erex saga''), ''Yvain'' (''Ívens saga'') and ''Perceval'' (''Parcevals saga'' and ''Velvens þáttr''), that the translators who supplied King Hákon's court and others in Norway and Iceland who enjoyed such sagas offered an independent rewriting of their sources. It is notable that they did not convey a number of key aspects of Chrétien's somewhat ironic perspective on courtly society. This may well be because most of the translators were probably clerics, but it is also likely to reflect traditional Norse tastes and narrative conventions. In particular, most elements of explicit eroticism have been deleted from the ''riddarasögur'', as have much comedy and irony in the treatment of the protagonists' behaviour. Instead, the narratives are largely exemplary and didactic, in large part because the Scandinavian translators refrained from using two essential narrative devices of their sources, namely the internal monologue, which conveyed the private thoughts and feelings of the characters, and the intrusive involvement of the narrator, which was a vehicle for conveying a nuanced and often ironic point of view.'Margaret Clunies Ross, ''The Cambridge Introduction to the Old Norse-Icelandic Saga'' (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2010), p. 81. 'By far the most important collector and preserver of medieval Icelandic manuscripts was the Icelander Árni Magnússon (1663-1730). Without him, it is true to say that a large proportion of the texts, including ssagas, that we now know would have vanished from the cultural record' (146). Well, that's an interesting question. Certainly more would have, but it perhaps (a) underrates the robustness of post-medieval Icelandic transmission and (b) underrates the dent that Árni's own collecting may have made in this!

*Coates, J., Women, Men and Language: A Sociolinguistic Account of Sex Differences in Language (London, 1986)

*Coates, Richard, ‘Review of Fran Colman, Money Talks: Reconstructing Old English’, Linguistics, 31 (1993), 1183-91.

Coates, Richard, The Place-Names of Hampshire: Based on the Collection of the English Place-Name Society (London: Batsford,1989) [498.8.c.95.31 NF3] NB there’s a 1993 thing of almost the same name in West Room.

Coates, Richard, and Andrew Breeze, Celtic Voices, English Places: Studies of the Celtic impact on place-names in Britain. Stamford: Tyas, 2000.

Coates, Richard, ‘Verulamium, the Romano-British Name of St Albans’, Studia Celtica, 39 (2005), 169–76. https://eprints.uwe.ac.uk/6732/. Reckons that the stress was actually on the second to last syllable because it resolves some phonological difficulties. ‘So, I suggest that British *Werulã’mijon was latinized into what we see written as <Verulamium>, stressed *Verula’mium. I have noted that the problem of the spelling <a> in the syllable written <-lam-> can be solved by postulating that OE adopted the spoken Latin form rather than the Brittonic one, and that a spoken Latin source might account for the shape of the OE third syllable (without a final consonant) better than the Brittonic one 8with a final consonant). It is highly unusual for English to adopt a place-names in a Latin form. I have claimed elsewhere that there is no certain instance of a pre-English name adopted by English with its pronunciation uninfluenced by Brittonic, and that includes all those of Latin origin [2000, 8]; in that context, the taking up of a Brittonic name modified by Latin pronunciation is surprising’ (173).h

Coates, Richard, ‘Invisible Britons: The View from Linguistics’, in Britons in Anglo-Saxon England, ed. by Nick Higham, Publications of the Manchester Centre for Anglo-Saxon Studies, 7 (Woodbridge: Boydell, 2007), pp. 172–91; cf. University of Sussex Working Papers in Linguistics and English Language, <http://www.sussex.ac.uk/linguistics/1-4-1.html>, accessed 21–8–2005.

‘My purpose in this paper is to argue that, whatever may come

from archaeology, the linguistic evidence favours the traditional view, at least for the south and east.’ (1). Ie that the Britons disappear. ‘The reasoning will be based not merely on the relatively small amount of place-name and

vocabulary borrowing in this area, but on comparison with the linguistic consequences of other

invasions and conquests by military aristocracies and the settlers who may or may not have followed

them. I argue that there is no reason to believe large-scale survival of an indigenous population could so radically fail to leave linguistic traces.’ (2)

‘We need to confront the apparent paradox that the Angles and Saxons seem content to have taken some place-names from the Britons - not an enormous number, but, overall, not negligible either - and yet took practically no Brittonic vocabulary in the earliest centuries of settlement. There was practically no early lexical traffic in the other direction either (Parry-Williams 1923: ch. 2), and all we have for sure is the talismanic word cyulis ‘(Saxon long)ships’ in Gildas (de excidio Britanniae §23), which is actually nothing more than a mention rather than a use - Gildas glosses it in the running Latin of his text - and therefore not certainly a borrowing.’ (3).

‘It has generally been assumed that what is true of river-names is also true of other categories of place-names, though no nationwide mappings of other categories of early place-names exist. Partial information is given by Hogg (1964), who maps surviving RB place-names in England (amended in Gelling (1988); NB not Celtic ones unrecorded in RB sources), and by Gelling (1992: figs. 29-34), who gives maps showing Brittonic and other ancient names in the counties of the west midlands (exemplified by her fig. 30), and (1988: 91) a map showing names indicating the presence of Britons, some of which of course are English names.’ (6) Cite this stuff to emphasise Beth’s importance.

7–9 late-type Brittonic names clustered in N-W Wilts, with corresponding material culture too. 9–12 survey of Brittonic loan-words in OE (emphing that they’re few). Handy. And then seeks parallels for this 12–17, cuminating in ‘I know of no case

where a political ascendancy has imposed its own language without significant impact from the

language of the conquered.’ (15)

Coates, Richard, Invisible Britons: the view from toponomastics. In George Broderick and Paul Cavill, eds, Language contact in the place-names of Britain and Ireland. Nottingham: English Place-Name Society, 41-53.

Coatsworth, Elizabeth and Michael Pinder, The Art of the Anglo-Saxon Goldsmith: Fine Metalwork in Anglo-Saxon England, its Practice and Practitioners, Anglo-Saxon Studies, 2 (Cambridge: Boydell, 2002). On FrC 181–83; into the idea that it shows laming (182); ‘The hammer hovering in front of Weland, as if held by a third hand, suggests we are meant to see this as an “action shot” in which he is ready to shape the bowl/skull’ [ie. the head in the tongs] (183). Cross shaft at Halton, Lncs has smith stuff re Reginn, Bailey, England’s Earliest Sculptors, fig 47, p. 92. 198– on Judaeo-Xian trad being down on smiths

Cockayne, Oswald (ed.), Leechdoms, Wortcunning and Starcraft of Early England, 3 vols, The Rolls Series, 35 (London, 1864–68).

I. 259 n. b re Herbarium 140, ‘White hellebore = Veratrum album, Bot., is not a native of England. The drawing is lost. See the glossary in Tungilsinwyrt. Only a groundwork of this article is in Dioskorides, iv. 150. The Vienna MS. draws Ver. alb.’

II 368 (glossary to Leechbok) s.v. Æsc: ‘Ceaster æsc, helleborus nigerm black hellebore, which has leaves like those of the ash. “Eliforus (read Helleborus),

“ wede ber3e (mad berry) vel ceaster

“ æsc,” Gl.Cleop. fol. 36 b. Lacn. 39.’

II 409 ‘Tungilsinwyrt,fem.,gen. –e, white hellebore? Veratrum album, for it seems probable enough, that Tunsingwyrt, Hb. cxl. and Gl. Dun., is a contraction of this older form. Lb. I. xlvii. 3.’ (ii 409)

III 330 ‘Hamorwyrt, gen. –e, fem., black hellebore, helleborus niger. Hamor which occurs in Dyþhamor can only be a herb; and as in Gl. vol. II. the gll. are wrong, (add. Gl. Mone. 322a,) we must supposed the three German separate flosses in Graff. iv. 954, Hemera, elleborum, gratiana, melampodium, to give us the true key. Melampodium is black hellebore (Dief.), a gratiana may refer to its acceptableness as the Christmas rose. “Hemera gentiana,” in Gl. Hoffm. 6, should be read gratiana.’ (iii 330).

III 337 ‘Lungenwyrt, gen. –e, fem., Lungwort, pulmonaria officinalis. Gl. vol. II. // 2. Golden lungwort, hieracium pulmonarium. Gl. vol. II. // Cows lungwort, helleborus niger. So Gl. M. See Oxnalib, and Setterwort: used as a seton to cure pleuropneumonia; Gl. Rawl. C. 607. But H. albus, Gl. Laud. 536.’

Coe, Jonathon Baron, ‘The Place-Names of the Book of Llandaf’ (Unpublished Ph.D. thesis, University of Wales, Aberystwyth, 2001)

Coe, Jon, 'Dating the boundary clauses in the Book of Llandaff', Cambrian Medieval Celtic Studies 48 (Winter 2004) 1-43

Cohen, Esther, ‘The Animated Pain of the Body’, American HistoricalReview, 105 (2000), 36–68. Towards a history of the gestures of pain. Late medieval. Not relevant to me but interesting.

*Cohen, Jeffrey Jerome, ‘The Limits of Knowing Monsters and the Regulation of Medieval Popular Culture’, Medieval Folklore, 3 (1994), 1–37.

Cohen, Jeffrey Jerome, ‘Monster Culture (Seven Theses)’, in Monster Theory: Reading Culture, ed. by Jeffrey Jerome Cohen (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1996), pp. 3–25, http://ptfaculty.gordonstate.edu/rscoggins/Cohen,%20Monster%20Culture%20(Seven%20Theses),%203-20.pdf. ‘The monster is born only at this metaphorical crossroads, as an embodiment of a certain cultural moment—of a time, a feeling, and a place. The monster’s body quite literally incorporates fear, desire, anxiety, and fantasy (ataractic or incendiary), giving them life and an uncanny independence. The monstrous body is pure culture’ (4). ‘Lyacon, the first werewolf in Western Literature…’ (12). Meaning, of course, the first in surviving known western lit. If an earlier papyrus turned up tomorrow with an earlier werewolf, this statement would still be taken to have been true when it was written, sort it. Interesting. (Not in Cohen tho’!) Not generally a very engaging piece.

‘This power to evade and to undermine has cursed through the monster’s blood from classical times, when despite all the attempts of Aristotle (and later Pliny, Augustine, and Isidore) to incorportate the monstrous races into a coherent epitemological system, the monster always escaped to return to its habitations at the margins of the world (a purely conceptual locus rather than a geographical one)’ (6). 7–12, esp. 7–8 re monsters as ethnic others. ‘Whereas monsters born of political expedience and self-justifying nationalism function as living invitations to action … the monster of prohibition polices the borders of the possible of the possible, interdicting through its grotesque body some behaviours and actions, envaluing others’ (13).

Cohen, Jeffrey Jerome, Of Giants: Sex, Monsters, and the Middle Ages, Medieval Cultures, 17 (London, 1999). 115-16 mention elves.

Cohen, Jeffrey J., ‘Introduction: All Things’, in Animal, Vegetable, Mineral: Ethics and Objects, ed. by Jeffrey Jerome Cohen (Washington: Oliphaunt, 2012), pp. 1–8. http://punctumbooks.com/titles/animal-vegetable-mineral-ethics-and-objects/

Cohn, Norman, Europe’s Inner Demons: The Demonization of Christians in Medieval Christendom, rev. ed. (London: Pimlico, 1993). ‘At this point Issobel’s interrogators cut her short: she was straying too far from the demonological material they required. After a further three weeks in gaol she produced a version in which the fairies were duly integrated into the Devil’s kingdom’ (159), goes with ‘small hunch-backed elves’ (159).

COldiron, A. E. B. ‘Public sphere/contact zone: Habermas, early print, and verse translation’, Criticism, 46.2 (Spring 2004), 207– 22

Criticism, Spring, 2004 by A.E.B. Coldiron

http://muse.jhu.edu/journals/criticism/v046/46.2coldiron.html. Pdf version saved on hard disk.

Cole, Peter (ed. and trans.), The Dream of the Poem: Hebrew Poetry from Muslim and Christian Spain, 950-1492 (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2007).

Cole, Richard, 'In Pursuit of an Æsirist Ideology', Viking and Medieval Scandinavia, 15 (2019), 65–101; https://www.academia.edu/43099650; https://www.brepolsonline.net/doi/abs/10.1484/J.VMS.5.118631.

*Coleman, Julie, ‘The Chronology of French and Latin Loan-Words in English’, Transactions of the Philological Society, 93 (1995), 95–124. May be useful re fairie and prostitution terms.

Coleman, Julie, Love, Sex and Marriage: A Historical Thesaurus (Amsterdam, 1999). Based on THE material with supplements (Coleman 2001, 70 n 2).

Coleman, Julie, ‘Lexicology and Medieval Prostitution’, in Lexis and Texts in Early English: Studies Presented to Jane Roberts, ed. by Christian Kay and Louise M. Sylvester, Costerus New Series, 133 (Amsterdam, 2001), pp. 69–87. [TOE] ‘makes it possible to locate all relevant recorded English terms within any specific semantic field’ (69). No. ‘The lexical data provided by the TOE and HTE [no italics sic] will be used by scholars to support historical and literary material in an accessible and convincing way. It will also be used in place of other evidence, and, more significantly, will sometimes suggest misleading conclusions’ (70). NB ‘What is clear is that a careful reading of the lexical evidence can complement the findings of historical studies, and might suggest new areas for investigation. However, reference to lexis without considering history and context can lead to misleading conclusions. TOE and HTE are mines of information, but their users mustbe alert for fools’ gold’ (86)—certainly true, but also for missed seams. Gives slightly expanded HTE entry for relevant words 70–71; ‘There was clearly no shortage of terminology for prostitution at any point during the medieval period. What is noteworthy is that so little of the vocabulary continues from the Old to the Middle English period’ (71)—but re 1st bit, there are gaps for OE and most if not all OE is glosses, some marked as nonce. So how do we know they don’t reflect a shortage? No dating of OE texts as in HTE… ‘Terms for “prostitute” and “prostitution” follow much the same pattern, in that few OE terms survive beyond the Anglo-Saxon period. There is no continuity at all in terms for “brothel”: Old English terms become obsolete, and nothing replaces them until the early fourteenth century. There is some lexicalisation of prostitutes’ clients in the late fourteenth century, but not to any significant extent until the late fifteenth’ (71). Meretrix, whore, quean, whoredom are the words showing overlap. But she NBs some OE problems—most only in glossaries (74); others in translation contexts: ‘These too tell us little about prostitution in Anglo-Saxon England. Forlegeswif, for instance, which glosses meretrix, occurs only once in connected prose, where welearn that St Lucia is taken to a forlegeswifa huse “house of prostitutes” as a punishment for refusing to deny her faith. Similarly scandhus, the only term for a brothel not restricted to glosses, occurs twice in an account of the attempt to defile St Agnes. These occurrences may prove that the Anglo-Saxons understood the concept of organised prostitution, but not that it was a familiar feature of Anglo-Saxon society. // The use of prostitute and prostitution in definitions of OE terms tends to imply greater specificity than we have any evidence for. Geliger and geligernes “prostitution” can refer to unchaste thoughts and behaviour as well as specifically to prostitution, which ought to urge caution when the terms are found with the specific sense only in glosses. In addition, it is difficult to isolate uses of forlegnis and cifes that refer unequivocally to prostitutes in connected Old English prose. In fact, “concubine” is usually the best definition for cifes in such contexts’ (75). Likewise scylcen no good; horcwene < hórkona maybe just ‘fornicateuse’, cf. horing ‘fornicator’; miltestre (?<meretrix, which it glosses) more promising ‘cos in Wulfstan and Ælfric, but both times linked to child murderers and tho’ she seems not to realise it, potentially textually related sermons, no? Doh! And Ælfric could just have it from a gloss. Cwene has no good ev. pre 1290 as ‘prostitute’ despite Clark-Hall. Doesn’t discuss etymologies which strikes me as a serious error [Kitson had an article pleading for etymologies in DOE, maybe in that Dutch kluger online major journal?—cite?] (these all 76). Meretrix sometimes occurs straight from Latin (76-77); ‘it could be argued with some justice that meretrix was never really an English term at all’ (77). Nice para on variables in understanding glosses, much like my section ut without the text crit (77). NBs meretrix in med lat can mean ‘promiscuous woman’—maybe so for A-Ss? Do A-S’s know diff between fornication and prostitution? (77).

‘It is not until the beginning of the fourteenth century that we see a new and complete lexis for prostitution develop’—just artefact of evidence survival? (77). Etymological bit re these 77-78. ‘Terms from French are common in all semantic fields during this period, but they constitute an unusually high proportion of the lexis of prostitution’. Citing Coleman 1995 no p. no. Goes thru similar ME problems 77–85. ‘Lexical evidence for prostitution is potentially misleading because of the temptation to project our modern understanding of prostitution back onto medieval terms. We consider there to be a clear distinction between a prostitute and a woman who has sex with someone she is not married to, but there is no evidence [?? a bit risky] that the exchange of money for sexual favours was a significant component of the concept “prostitution” in the medieval period’ (85). ‘Otis suggests that an urban cash-based economy is necessary for the development of a class of socially identifiable prostitutes who support themselves primarily be prostitution. It may be significant, then, that the beginning of widespread organised prostitution in England appears to [86] have coincided with the increase in wage-labour seen after the plagues of the fourteenth century’ (86)—maybe earlier in France on lexical ev.? (86). Maybe similar conditions in Danelaw ‘cos of big Danish armies to service? She speculates (86).

Colgrave, Bertram (ed. and trans.), Two ‘Lives’ of Saint Cuthbert: A Life by an Anonymous Monk of Lindisfarne and Bede’s Prose Life (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1940). Anon Life written between 698 (C’s tranlsation) and 705 (Aldfrith’s death. Handy!

i.v ‘On another occasion, also in his youth, while he was still leading a secular life, and was feeding the flocks of his master on the hills near the river which is called the Leader, in the company of other shepherds, he was spending the night in vigil according to his custom...’ (69) ‘Alio quoque tempore in adolescentia sua, dum adhuc esset in populari uita, quando in montanis iuxta fluuium quod dicitur Ledir [Ledyr B], cum aliis pastoribus pecora domini sui pascebat, pernoctans in uigiliis secundum morem eius...’ (68). As Colgrave’s note emphasises, Bede omits the pn; Leader joins the Tweed two miles below Melrose (313). C

i.6 Bede likewise omits name of Chester-le-Street, Kuncacester; ‘This story emphasises the fact that a large part of County Durham was deserted country until well on into the Anglo-Saxon period. The rarity of Anglian pagan burials in the county emphasises the same fact. The writer of the Vita S. Oswaldi in the eleventh century declares that the land between the Tees and the Tyne was in the sixth century one vast deserted region and haunt of wild beats’ re VSO ch. 1 (314).‘Unum adhuc miraculum quod in iuuentute sua ei contigit, non omitto. Pergenti namque eo ab austro ad flumen quod Uuir [Wear] nominatur, in eo loco ubi Kuncacester [var. Kunnacester O2, Concalestir H, Cuncacestir T, Concalestyr B, Concarestir P] dicitur, et transuadato eo ad habitacula uernalia et aestualia, propter imbrem et tempestatem reuersus est’ (70).

ii.3 has mailros (78) and Colodesbyrig (80).

ii.4 Mailros and ‘nauigans ad terram Pictorum, ubi dicitur Niuduera regio’ (82).

ii.5 mentions river Teviot. ‘Supradictus autem presbiter Tydi aliud miraculum quod multis cognitum est indicauit. Alia die proficiscebat iuxta fluuium Tesgeta tendens in meridiem inter montana docens rusticanos et baptizabat eos. Habens quoque puerum in comitatu eius secum ambulantem, dixit ad eum, Putasne quis tibi hodie prandium preparauit? Cui respondente, nullum in illa uia scire cognatum [86] et nec ab alienis incognitis aliquid genus misericordiae sperantem, seruus autem Domini, iterum ait ad eum, Confide fili, Dominus prouidebit uictum sperantibus in se, qui dixit, [lots of biblical quotations...] .... [eagle miraculously catches them a fish] Aliisque dederunt, et satiati adorantes Dominum gratiasque agentes in uoluntate Dei, ad montana ut supra diximus proficiscenbant docentes et baptizantes eos, in nomine patris et filii, et spiritus sancti [Matth. 28. 19]. // VI. De prophetia qua praeuidit inludere diabolum aditores eius // Eo tempore ibi inter montana baptizans ut diximus inuilla quadam, uerbum Domini secundum morem euis diligenter docuit’ (84/86). So he’s going south along Teviotdale. Er, where is that? And how does it relate to possible p-Celtic doings? ‘The form Tesgeta which occurs in all the MSS is due to a misreading of Tefgeta, caused by the easy confusion between an s and an f in the insular script. The same mistake occurs apparently in iv, 10 where Ofingadun becomes Osingadun. The Teviot is a Roxburghshire river, the largest tributary of the Tweed’ (322).

ii.7 visits KENSWITH a wido ‘ad uillam in qua habitabant, quae dicitur Hruringaham’ (90); ‘Hruringaham. This place had not been identified. Judging from 1, 5 it must be somewhere near the River Leader and the Lammermuir Hills and in the neighbourhood of Melrose’ (323).

ii.8 fantastic description of mad possessed woman and the shame it brings upon her. Cool!

iii.1 contextualises all the foregoing doings by opening with ‘Bene igitur in supradicto cenobio quod Mailros dicitur, praepositus sanctus Cuðberhtus seruiens Domino et plura mirabilia per eum Dominus faciens...’ (94).

i.3 ‘Ex quibus [miraculis] est quod cuiusdam comitis Aldfridi regis nomine Hemma in regione quae dicitur Kintis [Kyntis O2, Hintis TP] habitans, uxor eius pene usque ad mortem infirmitatis languore detinebatur’ (114). N. says the place is unidentified.

iv.4 mentions unidentified place called Bedesfeld

iv.5 ‘Simile quoque huic aliud miraculum ostentione multorum probabilium uirorum qui praesentes fuerant ex quibus est Penna sine dubio didici dicentis. Quodam tempore episcopus sanctus proficiscens ab Hagustaldesae, tendebat ad ciuitatem quae Luel dicitur. Mansio tamen in media uia facta est, in regione ubi dicitur Ahse [æhse A, Echse TP]. Namque congregato populo de montanis, manum potens super capita singulorum, liniens unctione consecrata benedixerat uerbum Dei predicans, manserat ibi duos dies. Interea itaque uenerunt mulieres [118] portantes quendam iuuenem, in grabato iacentem. Deportaueruntque eum in silua, haud procul a tentoriis nostris ubi erat sanctus episcopus, et rogauerunt eum per nuntium adiurantes in nomine Domini nosti Iesu Christi, ut...’ Place-names, public speech, mountains and tents. Pers. name in Pen-. ‘Ahse. The only guess that has been made as to the identity of this region, between Hexham and Carlisle, is that of Cadwallader Bates (Arch. Ael. N.S. xvi, 1894, pp. 81ff.), who suggested Aesica or Great Chesters, a station on the Roman wall. One objection to this is that Ahse is stated to be a region. // Tents. St Patrick also used tents when journeying ... “Tabernaculo”, says Bede, “solemus in itinere uel in bello uti” (Expositio in II Epist. Patri, cap. 1; Opp. xii, 249’ (332). Rivet–Smith 1979, 242 a bit more optimistic, quoting some other secondary work.

iv.6 ‘in quodam uico qui dicitur Medil ong’, unidentified (119). Colg. records suggestions of Middletons in Inderton and Belford (cf.ing Mawer 142).

iv.7 report of an ex layman and servant of a certain minister (gesith): ‘Eo autem tempore quo sanctus episcopus inter populares uerbum Dei praedicans, cepit pergere a domino meo nomine Sibba Ecgfridi regis comite, iuxta fluuium etiam quod dicitur Tide habitante, inuitatus ad uicum euis cum psalmis et ymnis cantantibus religiose peruenit’ (120). Gesith of Ecgfrith on the Tweed—tells us something about political power/influence?

iv.8 ‘ad ciutatem Luel’ (122). For the story of the prophecy of Ecgfrith’s death. Looks quite like Bede’s version from what I recall.

iv.9 ‘Ad eandem supradictam ciuitatem Luel quidam anachorita probabilis nomine Hereberht, ab insulis occidentalis maris ante ad eum assidue pergens, ad episcopi nunc conloquium tetendit’ (124); Colgrave translates mare as ‘lake’ (125), presumably on the basis of Bede, identifying as Derwentwater, containing St Herbert’s Isle (335).

iv.10 mentions Osingadun ‘in parrochia eius’ [Cuthbert’s] (for Ovington)

Colgrave, Bertram (ed. and trans.), Felix’s Life of Saint Guthlac (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1956). Ch. 31 re demons carrying Glc to Hell, ‘Erant enim aspectu truces,forma terribiles, capitibus magnis, collis longis, macilenta facie, lurido vultu, squalida barba,auribus hispidis, fronte torva, trucibus oculis, orefoetido, dentibus equineis, gutture flammivomo, faucibus tortis, labro lato, vocibus horrisonis, comis obustis, buccula crassa, pectore arduo, femoribus scabris, genibus nodatis, cruribus uncis, talo tumido, plantis aversis, ore patulo, clamoribus raucisonis’ (102).

xlviii: Quomodo Ecgburge interroganti se respondisse fertur heredem post se venturum iam paganum fuisse // Alterius denique temporis praelabentibus circulis reverentissima virgo virginum Christi et sponsarum Ecgburh abbatissa, Adulfi regis filia, ad sublimium meritorum venerabilem virum Guthlacum sarcofagumplumbeum linteumque in eo volutum transmisit, quo virum Dei post obitum circumdari rogabat, adiurans per nomen terribile ac venerabile superni regis, seque ad patibulum dominicae crucis erigens in indicium supplicis deprecationis extensis palmis, ut in officium praedictum vir Dei illud munus susciperet; per nuntium alterius fidelis fratris praecipiens, ut hoc indicium coram illo faceret, supplici rogatu mittebat. Addidit quoque ut ab illo sciscitaretur, quis loci illius post obitum heres futurus foret. Qui cum sanctae virginis fidele munus gratulanter suscepisset, de eo, quod interrogatus est, [148] respondisse fertur, illius loci heredem in gentili populo fuisse necdum ad baptismatis lavacrum devenisse, sed mox futurum fore dicebat; quod spiritu providentiae dixisse eventus futurae re probavit [Gen. 41.13]. Nam ipse Cissa, qui nunc nostris temporibus sedem Guthlaci viri Dei possidet, post annos, ut et ipse narrate solet, lavacrum baptismatis in Britannia percepit’ (146/48). ‘How when Echburgh questioned him, he is said to have answered that his heir and successor was then a pagan // On another occasion, some time after, the most reverend maiden Ecgburh, abbess of the virgins and brides of Christ and daughter of King Aldwulf, sent to Guthlac, that venerable man of high merit, a leaden coffin with a linen cloth folded up un it, and asked that the mad of God might be wrapped therein after his death; she invoked him by the teriible and awful name of the heavenly king, with arms outstretched in the form of the cross of our Lord and with palms extended in token of humble prayer, that the man of God would receive the gift for this said purpose. She instructed another faithful proether that he should make this sign in Guthlac’s presence, and sent him with thus humble request. She also added that he should ask him who he was to inerit that place after his deth. When he had gratefully received the faithful gift of the holy virgin, he is said to have [149] answered her question by saying that he who was to inherit his place was still among the pagan people and had not yet approached the baptismal font, but it would soon come to pass; and that he had spoken thus by spritiual foresight, future event proved. For Cissa, who now in our times possesses the seat of Guthlac the nam of God, some years afterwards received baptism in Britain, as he is accustomed to narrate’ (147/49). I think Higham would see the mention of Brittain here as a hint at Felix’s external perspective. Felix states Cissa as a source in prologue too, pp. 60–64, at 64. This happens some time after the consecration of G’s island and his consecration as a priest. When was that? 21st August, but what year?!Have a look at secondary sources. C’s notes don’t say :-(

Colgrave, Bertram (ed. and trans.), The Earliest Life of Gregory the Great, by an Anonymous Monk of Whitby (Lawrence: University of Kansas Press, 1968)

Colgrave, Bertram and R. A. B. Mynors (eds), Bede’s Ecclesiastical History of the English People, corr. repr. (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1991). ‘In the whole work, as it appears in the consensus of our oldest and best copies, there are perhaps thirty-two places (in nearly 300 printed pages) where some defect of sense or syntax suggests that correction is required. But even this small quantum of error is not what it seems. In twenty-six of these places, Bede is transcribing from an earlier source … That 80 per cent. of these mistakes should occur in quoted documents can hardly be accidental. Perhaps these deficiencies were already in Bede’s sources; perhaps, when he had a written source, he or his amanuenses transcribed it very accurately, including even its errors, and the [xl] result was faithfully transmitted by the transcribers of the finished work. Three examples will make this almost certain: …’ (xxxix–xl). Regarding the other six mistakes in all the oldest MSS suggests we may have a glimpse into partial corrections in final draft xl.

v.13 (498–502 text/499–503 trans) re a bloke, unnamed, in reign of Coenred in Mercia. Bunch of demons turn up and have him read from a book of his sins. Then leader speaks. ‘Dicebatque ad illos, qui mihi adsederant, uiros albatos et praeclaros: “Quid hic sedetis scientes certissime quia noster est iste?” [n. 1 ‘This phrase is a reminiscence of some Irish or Old English apocrypha dealing with the fate of the soul in the next life. The cry of the angels or devils, whichever won the fight for the departing soul, was Noster est ille homo or similar words. See R. Willard, Two Apocrypha in Old English Homilies (Leipzig, 1935), pp. 95ff.’ cf. Glc A] Responderunt: “Verum dicitis; accipite, et in cumulum damnationis uestrae ducite.” Quo dicto statim disparuerunt; surgentesque duo nequissimi spiritus, habentes in manibus uomeres, [n. 2: ‘Vomeres …[re text prob. that it’s mainly omitted but added in by Leningrad and Moore]… would normally mean ploughshares but uomer can mean short pointed instrument and, in the OE. translation, is [501] rendered by handseax meaning dagger or knife. In an Old English charm against stitch the sudden pain is attributed to little knives (called seax in one place), shot by witches …ref… It is possibly some such folklore idea which is preserved in the story’] percusserunt me, unus in capite et alius in pede; qui uidelicet modo cum magno tormento inrepunt in interiora corporis mei, moxque ut ad se inuicem perueniunt, moriar, et paratis ad rapiendum me daemonibus in inferni claustra pertrahar.” // Sic loquebatur mis desperans, et not multo post defunctus, paenitentiam, quam in breue tempus cum fructu ueniae facere supersedit, in aeternum sine fructu poenis subditus facit.’ (500).

Colker, Marvin L. (ed.), Galteri de Castellione Alexandreis, Thesaurus mundi: Bibliotheca scriptorum latinorum mediæ et recentioris ætatis, 17 (Padova: In aedibus Antenoreis, 1978)

Collín, H. S. and C. J. Schlyter (eds), Corpus iuris Sueo-Gotorum antiqui: Samling af Sweriges gamla lagar, på Kongl. Maj:ts. nådigste befallning, 13 vols (Stockholm: Haeggström, 1827--77), books.google.co.uk/books?id=-q8-AAAAcAAJ&.

Collinder, Björn, 'Lapparna', in Kulturhistorisk leksikon for nordisk middelalder fra vikingetid til reformationstid, ed. by Ingvar Andersson and John Granlund (Malmö/Oslo/Copenhagen: Allhem, Gyldendal, and Rosenkilde og Bagger, 1956–78), s.v. Col 316 Lapparna, rasfrämmande fennoskand. folkstam med västfi.-ugr. modersmål, trol. kommen till Fennoskandia åtskilliga hundra år f. Kr. För 2000 år sedan var l. huvudfolket på Fi.s fastland och i Sydkar.; landkontakten med urfinnarna gick längs Neva och Svir. Det oskiftade urlap. språket blev i järnåldern djupgående påverkat av urfinskan. Wiklund höll före, att lap. språket i sin helhet är ett lån från urfinnarna: l. talade före inflyttningen till Fennoskandia ett icke fi.-ugr. språk (protolap.), som de bytte ut mot (ett förstadium av) urfinskan. Nielsen och Toivonen har på svaga skäl velat sätta likhetstecken mellan protolap. och samojediskan. Hypotesen om ett språkbyte förslår näppeligen om Lundman har rätt i att det finns två lap. raser, skarpt åtskilda från varandra och från grannfolken: en sydlig (skand.) och en nordöstlig. Den förkastade teorien (Sven Nilssons), att det fanns l. i Nordskand., när våra germ. förfäder vandrade in (i ett tidigt skede av bronsåldern) tål vid att tas upp på nytt. // [Col 317] L. kallar sig själva sameh(k) (a uttalas som i da., på sine håll rentav som öppet ä), ental sapme. (Den in denna artikel nyttjade stavningen av lapska ord avviker från den i den språkvetenskapliga facklitt. gängse.) I den fisl.[?] Vatnsdœla saga kallar sig nägra l. (dat. pl.) semsveinum (läs: säm-). Ordet stämmer ljud för ljud med fi. hämä- i hämäläinen, tavast. Same (fi. saamelainen) och samespråket (no. samisk) har slagit igenom i No. och vinner alltmera mark i Sv. och Fi. // L. har veterligen aldrig grundat någon stat el. uppträtt med samlad vapenmakt; de har varit splittrade i strövande småstammar, sitab(k), ental sita. Rätt skipades när man låg i vinterkvarter av ett familjefädrating, som på sina håll ända fram till den nya tidens början hade makt över gods och liv. I Fi. kunde sädana ting avdöma mindre mål ännu i början av 1800-talet. // Alltsedan de första århundradena blev l. av tavasterna, de egentl. finnarna (åbolänningarna) och karelarna fördrivna, skattlagda el. trälbundna. Resultatet av den ständigt fortgående reträtten har blivit att det numera i Fi. finns l. endast i Utsjoki (där de utgör flertalet och har företrädesrätt till jordförvärv), Enare, Enontekiö och (genom återinflyttning) Sodankylä samt på ry. sidan huvudsakl. på Kolahalvön, där de är på väg att utplänas som nationalitet. // På skand. halvön finns l. (i stort sett) norr om en linje Røros-Idre. I Jämtl.s län håller sig l. till fjälltrakterna (bortsett från vinterflyttningar, som i sällsynta fall kan sträcka sig till Sundsvallstrakten). I (sv.) Lappl. finns det l. året om överallt med undantag av (Stensele), Lycksele, Fredrika och åsele; det förekommer vinterflyttningar ända till östkusten på sina håll. Den glesa skogsrennomadismen i Tornedalen (ända ned till trakten av Haparanda) har gamla anor. Söder om norra Frostviken (socknens lappmarksdel) sipprade l. in först på 1500-talet. Det stora flertalet av No.s 20.000 l. finns i Finnmarks fylke, där de huvudsakl. bedriver gårdsbruk och fiske. Fiskarl. (sjøl.) finns i alla trakter längs no. ishavskusten. // I alla de fyra rikena torde det finnas vidpass 5000 l. som lever helt el. huvudsakl. på renskötsel. // Ordet lapp är kaske från början ett fi. ord av deskriptiv upprinnelse. (Annorlunda T. E. Karsten, E. Itkonen m.fl.) Tälje stadga (1328) har fsv. lappa, lappar, i lat. text. Saxo nämner utraque Lappia; därmed åsyftar han nog (liksom sedermera OM) de sv. och fi. lappmarkerna (Pite, Lule, Torne och Kemi lappmarker), medan Finnia däremot förmodl. är det no. Finnmǫrk, Finn[col. 318]mark (s.d.). Hos Saxo möts sv. och no. i namnskicket och traditionen om l. (se Finnar). // Lapskan kan sägas vara tre språk: öst-, nord- och sydlapska. Östlap. talas av de infödda fiskarl. i Enare, skolterna i Enare (nyinflyttade), i gränstrakterna mellan Ry. och No. (no. skolt, sv. skult; skallighet på grund av skorv har varit vanlig hos skolterna samt på Kolahalvön). Sydlap. talas grovt taget söder om Pite älv, sydlap. i trängre mening söder Umeaälven. // Prokopios (500-talet) nämner Skrithifinnoi som det enda vilda folket i Thule (skand. halvön). Samma ord (feng. scridefinnas) nyttjar Alfred den store som synonym till finnas. I prosainledningen till Sämundar-eddans Völundskväde sägs det om Völund och hans bröder Egil och Slagfinn, att de var söner till en lapsk hövding (finnakonungr) och att de sriðu ok veiddu dýr (åkte skidor och jagade). I bannformeln om edsbrytare i Grágás heter det, att finnr skríðr. Skridfinnarna går igen i Jordanes' Gotiska Historia och Paulus Diaconus' Langobardernas historia. // Den hålogaländske jorddrotten Ottar berättade för Alfred den store, att han ägde sexhundra tamrenar i vård hos l. Av den uppgiften får man inte dra den slutsatsen, att l. på den tiden hade egna hjordar på hundratals renar, men de var i värd hos l. som hade hand om dem. Stornomadism med tusentals renar i en familjs ägo blomstrade upp på 1600-talet, när det inte längre bar sig att fånge vildren medels väldiga fallgropssystem. Den urgamla formen av renskötsel gick väsentl. ut på att tämja kör- och klövjedjur. Tama honrenar nyttjades även som lockdjur vid jakt på vildren. Endast barn red på ren. // På medeltiden sysslade l. mest med jakt och fiske. Bägge yrkena förde med sig ett strövande levnadssätt men möjliggjorde en någorlunda stillasittande tillvaro under högvintern. Både Tacitus och Prokopios säger at kvinnorna följde sina män ut på jaktfärderna. Sälfångsten växte fram på inhemsk grund. Skeppsbygge och högsjöfiske lärde sig l. av norrmännen i urnord. tid, trol. i nuv. Troms fylke. Härom vittnar många termer av trol. urnord. härkomst: // parte kölens böjning vid för- och akter-stäven ~ barð < barða; stawdne stäv, framstam ~ stafn < staβna; pårte bord ~ borð < burða; suvtas fog mellan bord ~ súð < sūðiz; skarro fogskarv mellan bord i klinkbyggd båt ~ skǫr < skaru; āsak list längs insidan av översta bordet ~ æsing < āsingu; rāpmo näst översta sidobordet ~ rim < rimu; kielas köl ~ kjǫlr < keluz; raggo vrång, spant < [col. 319] wrangu; skåhtas, skābdda det främsta el. det aktersta rummet i en båt ~ skutr < skutiz, ack. skuti; agŋ o hå(a), årtull < baŋbu; airo åra < airu (kan ha kommit genom fi. förmedling); välas, välla rorskult ~ vǫlr < waluz, ack. walu; parpme lik på segel ~ barmr < (ack.) barma; taitne lapp över rämna i båt ~ no. teinn < taina; farpme båtlast ~ farmr < (ack.) farma; faste förtöjningstross ~ festr < (ack.) fastiu; nauste båthus ~ naust < nausta; staffo, staþvo landningsplats ~ stǫð < staþwu. // fāles val ~ hvalr < hwalaz; säðak fiskmås el. gråtrut ~ sæðingr (ack.) sāðiŋga.; hauta, akta (gen. auhta) ejder ~ æðr < (ack) auði, auþi; sallet sild < silada? // Havet och havskusten kommer också till synes i samernas lånade ordskatt, och därtill kommer några ord som betecknar terräng utan uttryckligt samband med havet: // ahpe hav < haβa; [...] // De urnord. lånorden vittnar om att l. redan på 500-talet var inlemmade i den nord. kulturkretsen. I mångt och mycket är l. en gammaldags skand. utkantsallmoge, och som sådan speglar de våra förfäders dräktskick, ornamentik, bostadsförhållanden, magi, läkekonst, trosföreställningar, frieriseder, dopnamsskick, ja, de flesta sidorna av deras kultur i kvarlevor från medeltid, vikingatid och järnåldar. // L. var ej kulturlösa, när de först mötte norrmännen. De hade dessförinnan gått i skola hos urfinnarna och genom deras förmedling också hos urbalterna (litauernas, letternas och preussarnas förfäder). När de kom till Fennoskandia, hade de med sig myc[col. 320]ket som var deras eget: renskötseln, skidlöpningen, det sjamanistiska nåjdväsendet (som enl. Strömbäcks mening har satt spår i norrmännens sejd), björnjaktkulten med dess hos åtskilliga nordfolk (voguler, ostjaker, aino, nordindianer) enahanda mönster, och åtskilligt annat. I fråga om fördelningen mellan den från öster medbragta ränningen i l.s kultur och det skand.-no. inslaget är forskarna oense; den ene finner det nord. inflytandet snart sagt överallt, den andre kännetecknar det som skum på ytan.'

Collingwood, R. G. and R. P. Wright, The Roman Inscriptions of Britain I: Inscriptions on Stone (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1965)

Collingwood, W. G. and Jón Stefánsson, The Life and Death of Cormac the Skald, Viking Club Translation Series, 1 ([Ulverston: Holmes, 1902]), available as a pdf at http://vsnrweb-publications.org.uk/Cormac%20the%20Skald.pdf

Colman, Fran, ‘Anglo-Saxon Pennies and Old English Phonology’, Folia Linguistica Historica, 5 (1984), 91–143.

Colman, Fran, ‘What is in a name?’, in Historical Dialectology, ed. by Jacek Fisiak (Berlin, 1988), pp. 111–37. Hh Bg Historical ‘Gesta quote! ‘The conventional view about Old English dialectology is expressed by Campbell: ‘…it is not possible to draw a dialect map of England in the Old English period … This ‘impossibility’ of a precise dialect/region mapping arises because few Old English manuscripts can be located’ (111). 114ff. useful stuff re ælC.

Colman, Fran, ‘Neutralisation: On Characterising Distinctions between Old English Proper Names and Common Nouns’, Leeds Studies in English, 20 (1989), 249-70. Not very exciting.

Colman, Fran, Money Talks: Reconstructing Old English, Trends in Linguistics Studies and Monographs, 56 (Berlin, New York, 1992). nb 1-16, 35-69. ‘…in other cases identification is not possible: cf. the notorious <ÆL-> forms at Oxford, representing either Æthel- or Ælf- (see the Appendix; Colman 1981a; Freeman C1986: 448 ff.)’ (5) and also see Smart 1997. ‘But names undoubtedly have a different function from common nouns, best expressed in terms of Lyons’ (1977, 1: § 7.5) formulation: names have reference, but not sense’ (12). Refs there. ‘But here I would stress that etymological association between Old English proper names and common nouns in no way contradicts the claim (above) that names have reference but not “sense” or “meaning” ’ (14). Hence element-substitution 14-15. ‘I aim here by no means to dismiss etymology, but to distinguish between an etymologically based account of Old English name-formation (particularly related to the sorts of names on the coins), and a synchronic description of the late Old English onomastic system based on analyses of eleventh-century coin data’ (21). 33 lists –ælf not as name element in her corpus (but does have Ælf-). Cf 46, listed as ‘first element only’. No alf at all in north gmc names on 33, tho’ does show As-. 67-9 useful but cautionary stuff on paronomasia. chap 3 pp. 71-125 r etymologies of names in corpus. Cool.

Colman, Fran, ‘Names will never Hurt me’, in Studies in English Language and Literature: “Doubt Wisely”; Papers in Honour of E. G. Stanley, edited by M. J. Toswell and E. M. Tyler (London: Routledge, 1996), pp. 13-28 [eng a26 sta2]. 13-16 argues for a tendency for words’ inflexions to be reanalysed to fit the gender of the name-bearer. 16-17 re ælf and ielf and Ilfracombe (rec. 1279 Charter Rolls as Ilfridecumbe [Ekwall], 17). Consistentish æ in elf-names even in WS would perhaps raise questions re its transparency tho’. 22–25 discussing problems with *alC in Kentish: I-mut outcomes always ‘anglian’ (+æ > e) but non-I-mut anglian early on (early charters) and later WS-looking, incl. in ME. Tentatively goes for WS infl. Citable re issues of ælf etc. in WS having a more complex background than stammbaum approaches would suggest.

Colman, Fran, ‘ “Elves” and Old English Proper Names’, in From Runes to Romance: A Festschrift for Gunnar Persson on his Sixtieth Birthday, November 9, 1997, Umeå Studies in the Humanities, 140 (Umeå, 1997), pp. 21–31. [500.05.b.33.139]. Rather odd article. Hard to follow. Rather dubious stuff. E.g. ‘<I> occurs, for instance, in <Ilfing eastan of Estlande>, <ðonne benimþ Wisle Ilfing hire naman> (Orosius, Book 1). Lower case <y> occurs in <to æðelbrihtes mearce æt ylfethamme> (Sawyer 820), and <Of dyrnan treowe on ylfing dene on ænne ele beam> (Sawyer 622) … In the latter two examples, are we dealing with descriptive terms containing common words (“elf dwelling” [?! SWANS! er, was that ‘elf dwelling’ alaric? check!] and “valley pertaining to elves” [can this be right???]), or place names? And, in the former two, does capitalisation disguise a description of some river or place pertaining to elves? [pardon?! In Orosius?!]’ (28). Clark 1992, 475 has –ing as used for topographically descripting terms—so what is ylfing? Whew, nothing scary here then.

***Colopy, Cheryl. "Sir Degaré: A Fairy Tale Oedipus." Pacific Coast Philology 17 (1982), 31-39. [Explores the connection between sexuality and identity.] Also re implicit sexual advances of the father p. 35.

Conlee, John (ed.), WILLIAM DUNBAR: THE COMPLETE WORKS, Originally Published in William Dunbar: The Complete WorksKalamazoo, Michigan: Western Michigan University for TEAMS, 2004 (http://www.lib.rochester.edu/camelot/teams/duntxt2.htm)

Connor, W. R., ‘Seized by the Nymphs: Nympholepsy and Symbolic Expression in Classical Greece’, Classical Antiquity, 7 (1988), 155–89. Possession often not violent, may merely involve heightened awareness, insight, expression. This works particularly for nympholepsy (158-60); Plato even has Socrates getting it. ‘These are playful comments but they utilize [160] an accepted paradigm about the nature of possession in the society. This paradigm presents the possessed person, not as mindless, but as someone whose understanding may be of great value, even if his exceptional state is at the same time strange or frighteneing’ (159-60). ‘Prophecy was expected from nympholepts, who seem often to have claimed access to special understanding’ (160). Cf. 160-2. Sites of worship etc. 161-4. ‘The shift toward Zeus [in the worship by the semi-mythologized Epimenides] may reflect a tension between the cult of the Olympian gods, so prominent in urbanized civic religion, and the veneration of lesser divinities that played a special role in rural and private religion’ (165). ‘If we draw together the diverse material which we have found from many sites and periods of the Greek world we find a pattern that is remarkably consistent. The nympholept emerges not as an epileptic or madman but as a person of special inspiration and of a distinct status within society. Often the nympholept is the creator or embellisher of a cult place, usually a rustic one, remote from the city. But the site is not a place for purely private or individual religiosity. Prophecy and perhaps healing or purification can be found there. Its benefits should not be underestimated’ (165). Possibility of being nicked by the nymphs and becoming hieros ‘sacred’ (not simply pious or ritually pure etc) (165). ‘This suggests an important change in perspective in our view of nympholepts. They can be understood as part of a long line of holy men, a diverse and changing company that reaches back to the seers and cathartic specialists of early [166] stages of Greek civilization and down to the saints of Orthodox Christianity. The nympholept shares with them a direct participation in the sacred, in all its awe and power. Yet individual holy men differ in many important respects’ (165-66). Link between nymphs, nympholepsy and water (springs) 183-4 with refs. ‘Yet even if prophecy, rather than medicine, was its principal function, the consultations are likely to have included medical matters from titme to time. Curative powers were rarely totally distinguished from prophetic ones in settings such as this’ (185).

Assooc with prophecy esp. 160–62 et passim.

*Conrad, Joseph L., ‘Russian Ritual Incantations: Tradition, Diversity, and Continuity’, Slavic and East European Journal, 33 (1989), 422–24.

Conrad, Lawrence I., Michael Neve, Vivian Nutton, Roy Porter and Andrew Wear (eds), The Western Medical Tradition: 800 bc to ad 1800 (Cambridge, 1995) [Z8 1995-W]. Nutton writes up to modern period. 15-16 re gks being into divine causes as well as non-divine for disease.

Considine, John, Dictionaries in Early Modern Europe: Lexicography and the Making of Heritage (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2008). 1-8 rather useful survey of what heroic means to different people at different times. Dictionary-makers can be heroic. 1st attest. of heroicus in Cicero 'who referred in De natura deorum to the wicked Medea and Atreus as heroicae personae, 'characters of heroic legend'. A little earlier in the same book, Cicero had written that one of the several solar seities known to the learned was said to have been born at Rhodes heroicis temporibus 'in the heroic period'. He was here evidently not using heroicis temporibus in the sense that heroic has in modern English: he had no intention of associating either a dubious solar deity or two of the villains of Greek myth with courage. His point was that they could be located in a distant time, in which a number of exemplary and foundational stories, often peopled by larger-than-life characters, were set' (6). first attestation in English is (according to OED) in the dedication of _The Complaynt of Scotland_ (1549), where Mary of Lorraine, widow of James V, is told 'your heroic virtue is more to be admired than was that of Valeria, the daughter of the prudent consul Publicola ... or of any other virtuous lady whom Plutarch or Boccaccio has described'; 'Here, heroic describes a kind of virtue manufested in ancient narratives' (6). ( Heritage as the past configued such as to fill a need in the present (with whatever degree of respect for history, the past configured in its own right). 'Because a dictionary is often something very like a lexical index to a literary canon, proprietorship of intangible heritage becomes a question in lexicography as it does in canon-formation' (13)–perhaps here he's mainly thinking of dictionaries with detailed and precise citations, allowing one to take a word and then look up useful instances of it in the canon. But still an interesting concept—Leiden glosses etc., at any rate, an index for us of a Theodorican literary canon. 'Since the heroic world is by definition past or coming to an end, its language is often perceived by the living members of a culture to be distinct from theirs. A dictionary may make a bridge between heroic language and living language in one of three ways'--open up translation of lost past; or offer the possibility of etymological connection of modern lang to its heroic ancestor; and/or offer possibility of enrichment of the living language (15-16, quoting 15). And in this way, lexicography is heroic work: it allows connection to the heroic age. 'The phrase "lexicolographical thought" introduces the set of limits that my argument transgresses: I have not confined myself to the discussion of dictionaries in any narrow sense of the word, but have also considered a number of short wordlists and other studies of words. As J. G. A. Pocock has put it, one "may seek to distinguish between 'historical thought' and 'historiography'; perhaps better ... one may say that the writing of [18] 'history' was not always carried on by the writing of 'histories' ". Similarly, lexicographical thought, which is the subject of this book, has not always been expressed in the writing of dictionaries' (17–18). Handy for glosses as being lexicographical, in a sense.

Conybeare, John Josias, Illustrations of Anglo-Saxon Poetry, ed. by William Daniel Conybeare (London: Harding and Lepard). http://books.google.co.uk/books/about/Illustrations_of_Anglo_Saxon_Poetry.html?id=vYwlAAAAMAAJ&redir_esc=y. 'It can hardly have escaped notice that the Scandinavian bard, in the general style and complexion of his poetry, approaches much more nearly to the father of the Grecian epic, than to the romancers of the middle ages. If I mistake not, this similarity will readily be traced in the simplicity of his plan, in the air of probability given to all its details, even where the subject may be termed [80] supernatural; in the length and tone of the speeches introduced, and in their frequent digression to matters of contemporary or previous history' (79-80). Also some interesting Orientalist stuff p. 80: 'The fcitions in question do assuredly bear, if it may be so termed, an oriental rather than a northern aspect; and the solution of this phenomenon will be most successfully sought for in the hypothesis more recently suggested by those continental scholars, who, regarding the Gothic and the Sanscrit as cognate dialects, and identifying the character and worship of Odin with that of Buddha, claim for the whole of the Scandinavian mythology, an Asiatic origin of far more remote and mysterious antiquity' (80). Goes on to apologise for its failings compared with Classical traditions, but in a rather engaging way; 'If we except perhaps the frequency and length of the digressions, the only considerable offence against the received canons of the heroic muse is to be found in the extraordinary interval of time which elapses between the first and last exploits of the hero' (81). Note on Bwf l. 112 quite fun too--attests to idea of elves as 'some other aboriginal tribe'; 'The Orcneas I do not recollect to have met with elsewhere under this [159] disreputable character. Can they be the early inhabitants of the Orkney Islands? Grendel evidently belongs to the same class of semi-mythological personages as the Polyphemus, and the Cacus and the Πιτνοκαμπτης (see Plutarch. in V. Thes.) of classical antiquity. In later ages, a Highlander, an American Indian, or even a runaway Negro, have assumed, in the eyes of their more civilized neighbours, the same aspect of terror and mystery' (159). Note on the dragon also has some interesting Indian/Asian links.

*Cook, A. M. and M. W. Dacre, Excavations at Portway, Andover 1973–75, Oxford University Committee for Archaeology, Monograph 4 (Oxford: XXXX, 1985)

Cook, Robert and Mattias Tveitane (eds), Strengleikar: An Old Norse Translation of Twenty-one Old French Lais, Edited from the Manuscript Uppsala De la Gardie 4–7 — AM 666 b, 4o, Norsk Historisk Kjeldeskrift-institutt, norrøne tekster, 3 (Oslo: Kjeldeskriftfondet, 1979). ‘Similarly, it appears from the general Prologue to the Harley collection that the originals were supposed to be Celtic’ (xix) NO!!!!!. Gah! xiv–xv re date, Hákon’s reign, 1217–63.

Cook, Robert, 'Kirialax saga: A Bookish Romance', in Les Sagas de Chevaliers (Riddarasögur): Actes de la V^e Conférence Internationale sur les Sagas Présentés par Régis Boyer (Toulon. Juillet 1982), XXXXXno editor given--Boyer?XXXXX, Serie Civilisations, 10 (no place etc. that I can see XXXXX), pp. 303-26.

Robert Cook (trans.), Njals saga (London: Penguin, 2001).

Cooke, Jessica, ‘The Harley Manuscript 3376: A Study in Anglo-Saxon Glossography’ (Unpublished PhD thesis, Cambridge, 1994). [MS room, PhD.18786] ‘My research has also identified much material in the Harley Glossary which was included in later medieval English lexica. As a result, an important argument of this thesis is that there was a continuous lexicographical tradition, stretching from early Anglo-Saxon times to the English Renaissance. Such a tradition has rarely, if ever, been fully accepted by scholars before’ (1a). Prob. Worcester. Disses Oliphant’s ed. 23, 231–34; Wright-Wülcker 22–23. She made her own ed; collation with her errata (pp. 236–56, but goes not beyond C) and MS seems important. Review of ed. English Stud 51, 1970 149–51; Anglia 86 1968, 495–500. MS actually written out as prose, not as a list! (232–33). ‘many interlinear glosses do not refer to the whole entry, but only to the word they are written over’ (233). 77–79 handy re infl. of Isidore; ‘Entries from Isidore were influced in the [79] English Epinal-Erfurt Glossary coeval with Aldhelm, and subsequent additions were included in all later Anglo-SAxon glossaries’ (78–79). Aldhelm 2nd most influential 79–81. EEK! Has cleopatra A.III as C11 p. 134—is she wrong or am I?

Cooke, Jessica, ‘Worcester Books and Scholars, and the Making of the Harley Glossary: British Library MS. Harley 3376’, Anglia, 115 (1997), 441–68. ‘Despite the importance of the Harley Glossary … it has never been edited properly: neither of the two existing editions of the glossary attempt to provide a comprehensive study of its organisation or sources, and further, both editions inaccurately transcribe many Latin and Old English words in the manuscrip’ (444).445-48 going for Worcester provenance. Tends to favour the idea that 3376 is the autograph of the compiler , thought doesn’t exclude other possibilities (454). ‘In keeping with his effors to regularise the glossary, he grouped together entries having the same lemma under a single headword, so that such entries may combine an explanation for a word from Virgil or the Bible with that for a word in Isidore. While these glosses do not necessarily accord with each other, they each explain different meanings for the lemma’ (454). ‘While two thirds of the explanations in the Harley Glossary are Latin, about a third are Old English, but these are mainly written abive the lines rather than in the text proper, giving the appearance of a Latin glossary with Old English explana[455]tions added later. yet far from being informal additions by the compiler, the English glosses were derived from the aminstream corpus of Anglo-Saxon glossography and must have been incorporated at the same time as the Latin glosses. It appears that the compiler wished to emphasise the Latin element of his work as opposed to the vernacular, and wrote the Latin words in large letters on the ruled lines of the pages, while according the English a lower status in smaller writing between the lines. In addition, he reversed the usual trend by re-translating some Old English glosses from his exemplars back into Latin’ (454-55) citing Pheifer 1974, xxxvi. ‘About half of the entries in the Harley glossary derive directly from the English glossographical tradition because their closest parallels occur in the Anglo-Saxon glossaries. Of [457] them all, however, the glossator probably used English exemplars most similar to the Corpus Glossary written about 800 at Canterbury, and the three glossaries of the eleventh-century manuscript London, B.L. MS. Cotton Cleopatra A.III’ (456-57).

Cooke, William, ‘ “Aluen swiðe sceone”: How Long did OE Ælfen/Elfen Survive in ME?’, English Language Notes, 41 (2003), 1–6.

*Alix Cooper, Inventing the Indigenous: Local Knowledge and Natural History in Early Modern Europe, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2007. Pp. 232. $80. ISBN 978-0-521-87087-0. Loooks useful re Markku and Jari morality and health project.

*Cooper, Helen, ‘Magic that does not Work’, Medievalia et Humanistica: Studies in Medieval and Renaissance Culture, n.s., 7 (1976), 131–46. just looks interesting, has some stuff re fairies apparently.

Cooper, Marion R. and Anthony W. Johnson, Poisonous Plants in Britain and their Effects on Animals and Man, Ministry of Agriculture Fisheries and Food, Reference Book, 161 (London: Her Majesty’s Stationery Office, 1984)

Cooper, Victoria Elizabeth, 'Fantasies of the North: Medievalism and Identity in Skyrim' (unpublished Ph.D. thesis, University of Leeds, 2016), http://etheses.whiterose.ac.uk/16875/

Corfe, Tom and Rosemary Cramp, ‘Bernicia before Wilfrid’, in Before Wilfrid: Britons, Romans and Anglo-Saxons in Tynedale, Hexham Historian, 7 (Hexham: Hexham Local History Society, 1997), pp. 57–64. Generally quite interesting, as is whole volume, but nothing to blow you away.

Cormak, M., ‘ “Fj²lkunnigri kono scalltu í faðmi sofa”: Sex and the Supernatural in Icelandic Saints’

Lives’, Skáldskaparmál, 2 (1992), 221–28. [NW4 P752:1.c.27]

Corradini, Erika, ‘Preaching in Old English: Tradition and New Directions’, Literature Compass, 3 (2006), 1266–77, DOI:10.1111/j.1741-4113.2006.00381.x

*Cosslyn, Stephen Michael, Image and Brain (e-book, netlibrary).

*Cove, John J. Nimeke: Tsimshian narratives : 1-2 / John J. Cove ; collected by: Marius Barbeau and William Beynon ; edited by: George F. MacDonald and John J. Cove Aineisto: Kirja Julkaistu: Ottawa : Canadian Museum of Civilization, 1987 Sarja: Directorate paper / Canadian Museum of Civilization ; no 3Mercury series

Kotimaisten kielten tutkimuskeskus Kirjasto laina-aika 28 vr Sijainti: Su SUK P Mercury series, Directorate paper ; 3 Niteiden lukumäärä: 2 (paikalla 2) joista ei saatavilla: Kaikki paikalla

Kirjasto: Museovirasto Kansallismuseo ja muut museot, ei kotilainaan Sijainti: B KUMU 20 Directorate paper 3

**Cox, B. S., Cruces of ‘Beowulf’, Studies in English Literature, 60 (The Hague, 1971), 94-101, grendel as scucca.

Barrie Cox, ‘The Significance of the Distribution of English Place-Names in -hām in the Midlands and East Anglia’, JEPNS, 5 (1973), 15–73. Abstract says that it demonstrates how place-names containing ham map nicely onto roman roads and ancient trackways and Roman settlements; ‘It suggests that this pattern of distribution indicates that place-names in -hām belong to the period of the pagan Anglo-Saxons [c. 400–650 according to fn 1]. Further, it suggests that names in -ingahām occur in historical sequence later than the hām phase but in general earlier than other names in -ingas, -inga-’ (15).

Cox, Barrie, ‘The Place-Names of the Earliest English Records’, Journal of the English Place-Name Society, 8 (1975–76), 12–66

Cox, Robert, ‘Snake Rings in Deor and V²lundarkviða’, Leeds Studies in English, 22 (1991), 1-20. Goes for lindbaugar as ‘snake-rings’ and be wurman as ‘because of snake-rings’. How convincing is wurman as wyrmum anyway? (weorm x 2 in Lacnunga).

*Cox on pn.els. 1976

*Crabtree, P. J., ‘Sheep, Horses, Swine and Kine: A Zoo-archaeological Perspective on the Anglo-Saxon Settlement of England’, J Field Archaeology, 16 (1989), 205–13.

Craig, W.J. (ed.), Shakespeare: Complete Works (London: Oxford University Press, 1905)

Craigie, James, ed. Minor Prose Works of King James VI and I: Daemonologie, The Trve Lawe of Free Monarchies, a Counterblaste to Tobacco, a Declaration of Sports. Scottish Text Society, 4th Series 14. Edinburgh: The Scottish Text Society, 1982.

Craigie, W. A. (ed.), Skotlands rímur: Icelandic Ballads on the Gowrie Conspiracy [by Einar Guðmundsson, see p. 12] (Oxford, 1908) [752.5.d.90.6]. Re the author, accusing Auðunn of witchcraft, autumn 1633: ‘Greeting to you, Auðunn Þorsteinsson, according to your deserts. I wish to let you know the thing which has happened here, viz. that my Sigríður has taken a strange pain in her eye, in this manner, that on Monday during a dead calm, as she was going out of the homestead, she felt as if an arrow struck her in the eye, but saw nothing. Since then the pain has increased round her eye-ball, and it is the opinion of both of us that it is caused by you, or by your son Björn, for you both have dealings with wizardry and sorcery’ (13). Wow! ‘Sjera Einar was a gifted man, with a talent for versifying, [16] and various poems and writings of his have been preserved. He wrote a work on elves and fairies, which is said by Daði Nielsson to have been very superstitious; this is no longer known, and is said by some to have been in Latin’ (15-16).

Craigie, W. A. (ed.), The Maitland Folio Manuscript: Containing Poems by Sir Richard Maitland, Dunbar, Douglas, Henryson, and Others, 2 vols, The Scottish Text Society, Second Series, 7, 20 (Edinburgh: The Scottish Text Society, 1919–27). NB glossary in vol 2!! Dunbar’s The Goldin Targe pp. 89-97; 93, ll. 118-26: ‘Thair wes the god of gardingis preapus / Thair wes the god of wildernes phanus / And Ianus god of entres delitabill / Thair wes the god of fludis naptunus / Thair wes the god of windis Eolus / With variand luik lyk till ane lord vnstable / Thair wes bachus the gladar of the tabill / Thair wes pluto þat Elriche incobus / In clok of grene his court vsit no sabill’. Hmm, I wonder why the cap.? Also . 175 l. 58, dream vision rubbish.

ii 1-6 description of MS; 6 says ‘taken together with the Quarto, the manuscript as a whole offers copious materials for a close study of the form and changes of the Scottish tongue during the years 1570-85’ (6).

Cramond, William (ed.), The Records of Elgin 1234–1800, New Spalding Club, 27, 35, 2 vols (Aberdeen: The New Spalding Club, 1903–8). ii 211 kirk session records for 1629, ‘September 11th.—Nauchtys confessioun.—Compeirt Cristan Nauchty and confessit scho was three several tymes away, ilk tyme aucht dayis away, and scho was taine away with a wind and knew no man bot Johne Mowtra and ane Packman quho wer dead lang ago, and that they two strak hir. Scho confessit ther wer ma in hir cumpany quhom scho kend no, aboue ane hundreth. Ther faces seimed whyt and as lane but ther lackis wer boss lyk fidles’.

*Cramp, Rosemary, ‘Beowulf and Archaeology’, Medieval Archaeology, 1 (1957), 57–77. ‘The archaeological evidence that is now available, however, can enrich considerably the study of the poem; it can supply relevant illustrations so that simple words such as “hall” or “sword” conjure up a precise picture in the mind of the modern reader’ (77). Or does it?! Hahahahahahaaa!

Cramp, Rosemary, ‘The Hall in Beowulf and in Archaeology’, in Heroic Poetry in the Anglo-Saxon Period: Studies in Honor of Jess B. Bessinger, Jr., ed. by Helen Damico and John Leyerle, Studies in Medieval Culture, 32 (Kalamazoo, MI: Medieval Institute Publications, 1993), pp. 331–46.

*Crane, Ronald S., ‘An Irish Analogue of the Legend of Robert the Devil’, Romanic Review, 5 (1914), 55-67. Interesting re Sir Gowther but maybe also if early re Guthlac A.

*Crane, Susan, Insular Romance: Politics, Faith and Culture in Anglo-Norman and Middle English Literature (Berkely and Los Angeles, 1986). Argues somewhere for magic representing political and social concerns. Good.

Crane, Susan, Gender and Romance in Chaucer’s ‘Canterbury Tales’ (Princeton, 1994), ‘Magic, shape-shifting, and the uncanny in the Wife of Bath’s tale.’ Apparently. ‘In Chaucer’s works, as in those of other poets who engage romance, gender provides a way of reading aspects of the genre beyond courtship alone. Social hierarchies, magic, adventure, and less salient preoccupations of romance are so intimately involved in gender that their operations are unclear in isolation from it’ (3). Intro outlines social constructivist aspects of gender and how we can find lots of cools stuff (3-7) might be handy to cite as general consideration. ‘Romances place themselves in their time less through the referentiality of their representations than through their participation in forming, playing out, and disputing interrelated beliefs that have meaning for their authors and audiences’ (6). ‘Foucault, History of Sexuality, excludes the medieval period from the social [7] articulation of sexuality, tracing that articulation to the eighteenth century … but much of his argument on sexuality’s social function as “an especially dense transfer point for relations of power” (103) fits the late medieval period better than his own characterization of that period as monloithic, without competing discourses on sex, would suggest’ (6-7, n. 2). ‘It is virtually a critical commonplace that Chaucer eagerly seized on such genres as the fabliau, saint’s legend, and dream vision but “felt less easy with the very genre which we regard as characeristic of his period, the knightly romance” ’ (10, n. 8). NBs major female patronage of romance, Chaucer cits to imply it’s a woman thing (10) and outmoded (11-12).

‘The social position occupied by those gendered male becomes conflated with that of humanity at large, exiling those gendered female to the position of difference, otherness, and objectification’ (13). Hence the identification with the supernatural I suppose… Women serve to provoke in men the feminine actions of mercy and pity—as in Knight’s tale (20, cf 20-23). And of course WBT, and cf the ‘women gewet to be mystics, men get to be theologians’ principle. Much like the Celtic/Norman church thing! Hmm… Interesting. Aligns women with Xian values too, I suppose. Xianity is otherworldly after all… cf woman as peaceweaver: a very ;long-standing female role in medieval society, in reality and literature and one continually contrasted with masculine behaviour in the lit—cf. bwf, strohm 1992. ‘`Indeed, the very conventionality of feminine intercession suggests a scripted role assigned to queens within the larger scene of rulers’ justice. Queen Anne had not even arrived in England when Richard II began parsoning rebels in her name’ (22). Cf. Eve as model sinner etc. Jill Mann on this too, but no ev. here that they’re seeing an XCianising of men rather than a feminising of them. Mann sees by this process chaucer offering a ‘fully human ideal’ (185), but Crane goes for an ideal that is ‘finally masculine’ (21). ‘However … their [women’s] gender is not mercy’s ultimate repository. The interceding women come to resemble not agents of mercy but allegorical figures in a psychomachy of the ruler’s decision making. Rather than expressing an exclusivey feminine impulse, the scene locates pity in women as a way describing the subordinate place it holds in the all-encompassing masculine deliberation. Theseus does not designate mercy a feminine but rather a lordly response’ (22) (cf. KT 1773-81). Nice point, and for me shows Xian ideal being brought to lordship, no? ‘The progression from anger to mercy through women’s intercession indicates that the ruler’s impulse to mercy is subordinate to his impulse to justice, but both are masculine—that is, “fully human” in the traditional gendering that conflates maleness and humanity as the universal experience’ (23). Quotes Strohm in 23 fn 4 nbing that female intercession gratifies male desires really—amphs their power. Perhaps a point to be developed a bit more.

Another parallel with Bwf, and this time with ON too: ‘Romances do not provide parallel depictions of women who successfully integrate masculine traits into feminitity, reinforcing the gender inequivalence figured when traits identified with feminity are absorbed into masculine complexity. Women can imitate masculine behavior, but the imitation remains just that; ruling and fighting do not become feminine behaviors when they are practiced by women’ (23). cf. Amazons in KT. OFr egs 23-5 (Dido failed ruler). ‘Alternatively, in Guy of Warwick, the Tristan and Lancelot romances, and many romances about young love, the hero’s will tends to be at odds with the public order, creating crises of identity that are difficult or impossible to resolve. Guy’s beloved Felice demands that he leave court until he has become the best knight in the world, but his parents and his lord oppose Felice’s command on the ground that he ows them superior allegiance. Guy himself, once married, reprents of his adventures for love and undertakes compensatory feats for good causes in defense of Christian, feudal, and nationmal rights. Although Guy’s efforts like Horn’s built his reputation, his efforts and his reputation are deeply involved in familial and instituational relations’ (28). ‘The Tale of Sir Thopas parodies romance in part by isolating the central character, stranding him on an empty stage where his rushing about looks absurdly autonomous’ (29).

Much converned, naturally, with the tensions between male-male relationships and male-female ones. Speaks long re homosexuality (39-49), established in romances partly to be refuted. Not concept of the homosexual as such—just of heterosexuals misbehaving. But does that tension occur in the heroic stuff? Or are women there clearly in their place: romance as respose to social change in male-female relations (ie. Xianisation again…?). Tho’ perhaps some of that tension there in Heiðreks saga when Heiðrekr settles down and Óðinn gets upset.

‘In many repects medieval romances does conceive gender as a binary but unreciprocal division that constrains femininity to masculine terms .. Romance … insistently exemplifies De Beauvoir’s argument that the masculine stands for the universal experience’ (56). ‘[*]Henri Rey-Flaud’s Névrose courtoise and [*]Jean-Chalres Huchet’s Roman médiéval argue as well that fine amor is an evasion rather than an elaboration of intimacy between the sexes and that the place of women in the paradigms of literary courtship, far from figuring an amelioration in the historical position of women, reinforces the cultural distance between the sexes by expressing in the literary language of women the disorientation and strangeness of emotional experience: “Le femme est l’Autre du récit qui en parle” (Woman is the Other of the tale that narrates her) … Such recent work on medieval literature tends to mesh the ides of masculine self-definition through the feminine and of a consequent absenting of woman from discourse’ (57). Looks at social construction 57- Basic point being in many ways that ‘literature participates in the social construction of its authors and consumers’ (59). Re Dorigen saying she’ll love A when he makes the stones go: ‘In Giovanni Boccaccio’s Filocolo, apparently chaucer’s cource for the plot of the Franklin’s Tale, the wife’s private thoughts illuminate her demand: “She said to herself, ‘it is an impossible thing to do, and that is how I shall get free of him’.” Her suitor understands that she has found a “cunning stratagem” to get rid of him. Meaning is more elusive in Chaucer’s tale both for readers, who are privy only to Dorigen’s desire that the rocks should not threaten her husband’s return, and for Aurelius, who laments the tak’s difficulty but apparently does not consider its assignment equivalent to a rejection’ (61). Discusses the problems of no meaning yes etc. No is the necessary 1st step to submission—probably actually the only way to really say no to A is to say yes straight off! (my point that). Tricky. Women like Felice in Guy who make proud vows and set impossible tasks get subsumed pretty quickly tho’—the knight lives up to the demands, and woman goes all weask at knees. Demands are rather necessary for plots of striving lovers (64-5). How does this relate to the Þryþ/Hervör/etc. story—big gratwickdifference will partly be that they don’t need to produce striving lovers. Why do they do it at all then? Provide paradigm for recalcitrent women learning to behave?

‘Chaucer’s particular version of the rash promise suggests that Dorigen is neither rash nor flirtatious but rather that her desire to refuse is at odds with courtly discourses that do not admit a language of refusal’ (65). But she does her best within these restrictions to break from the mould by ‘quoting against the grain’—providing for safety of husband eg. (65-6).

Into women and self-mutilation: finds that femininity and feminine desirability is mainly in their appearnce (esp. 73-5 for basic principle). Thus you can step out of this by self-mutilation, for various purposes (thus Herodis is all mutilated by encounter under impe-tree, which implies estrangement from husband in consequence, and this is apparent before anyone knows about what’s actually happened (74-5). Then has lots on amazons and warrior women. A fair number apparnelty. (76-84). Important to return to if you want to follow up thaat shield-maiden thing ever. Amazons there to be conquered of course. Self-mutilation appears in various ways. None that I recall in shield-maiden trad tho’. Other form of messing about with female bodies, and more common, is shape-shifting. ‘Shape-shifting can be read in two directions, one tending toward reinforcing an image of feminine alienness and contraditio. This is the more accessible reading of shape-shifting, linked to wider literary contexts such as the theological, medical, and legal disputations on “Is woman a monster?” and “Is woman inhuman?’ …[nmot usually taken proper seriously by med writers she adds] Shape-shifting in romance offers a striking concretization of feminine uncanniness, whether by mixing human with animal forms as in the serpent-woman Melusine, by juxtaposing contradictory images of women as in the loathly-lovely Ragnell, or by simply deceiving the masculine gaze … here I will pursue a different and perhaps less evident reading that find in shape-shifting an attempt to break the bond that ties feminine identity to bodily appearance’ (84).

Geffrey and Alison as both outsiders to romance. Neither is socially well set up for it, from what you see. Geffrey makes a mess of it; Alison’s prologue is full of stuff which is generically quite different from the story she goes on to produce (113). But naturally, Crane also sees the outsideness from romance in terms of gender (113-14). ‘Geffrey’s maculinity is involved in his narratorial inferiority to romance. Memorization and repetition of a single text has just characterized the persistently “litel” boy of the Prioress’s Tale … Geffrey’s rote performance signals an analogously childish lack of authority over his text’ (114). ‘The incongruous conjunction of [115] immaturity and sexuality in Greffrey underlines his anomalous status in relation to other pilgrims and to the genre of romance’ (115). ‘Appropriate to both Geffrey’s “popet” body and his “elvyssh” countenance, “smal” links the childish connotation of dolls to the woman’s embrace and the sexually charged nature of elves. The Host compounds this half-formed sexuality with a trace of feminine reticence: like Rosemounde who will “do no daliaunce” to her lover, Geffrey refuses his “daliauce” to everyone…’ (115). ‘Geffrey’s quiet isolation contrasts with the Host’s convivial leadership, his undefined estate with the Host’s capacity to lodge and manage all estates, yet the Host’s own answer to “What man artow?” deflects those social differences into a comment on masculinity. Indeterminate social status finds its expression in ambivalent gender status’ (116).

‘Magic is a generic marker that signals the inferiority of romance in the hierarchy of genres. The persistent claim leveled against romance magic is that it evades the genuine concerns of the world in favor of seductive falsehoods’ (132). In Insular Romance I have argued that the “lying wonders” of romance can comment on political and social concerns; here I argue that magic becomes in romance a means of expressing gender difference’ (132). ‘Magic is for the Middle Ages on a continuum with philosophy and science, but in romance it can be rather narrowly defined as the manifestation of powers that are not directly attributable to Christian faith, yet are so far beyond the ordinary course of nature as to be inexplicable according to its laws’ (132). Cf. Kieckhefer, peters 1978, Carasso-Bulow, Kelly. ‘From the perspective of gender, magic has two characteritic expressions in roance. Magic associated with masculine concerns and characters is learned, is clearly hostile or helpful, and strives to confer on the individual subject an autonomy and completeness that we have seen to be chimerical in masculine identity as romance develops it. In association with the feminine, magic expresses the ambiguous danger and pleasure of intimacy between the sexes. The mirror brought to Cambyuskan’s court points toward this distinction’ (133).

‘Hanning discusses marvels in romance with referene to the term engin, which reflects the admixture in clerical magic of technique [136] and artfulness in meanings that range from “machine” and “invention” to “clverness” and “deception”. For Chaucer the term of choice is “subtil”, also widely applied in romances to gifts of clerks of magic’ [individual in C12 romance, 105-38] (135-6, discusses subtil some more 136). nature of magic obscured—by turns implied to be empty illusion, and to have something going on, eg. in franklin’s tale (136-7). ‘Obscuring how magic functions is one way of insisting on its inasccessibility to ordinary understanding and its superiority to everyday contingencies. Yet narrators are also at pains to establish some degree of detachment from clerical magic. The double movement of insisting on the validity of magic and yet disengaging from it, which parallels the gendered function of clerical magic as a soure of masculine autonomy that does not finally garauntee it, returns us to the problems of tone in the Squire’s and Franklin’s tales’ (137) hmm, lost by the last bit, but interesting. Cf. Graham’s marginalia work re Chaucer’s relationship with his storys?

150ff ‘Uncanny women’. ‘Women who wield magical power in romances are the intimates of male protagonists, their lovers and mothers and aunts. Male clerics and enchanters provide aid or resistance in magic that is uncomplicated by intimacy. Although clerical magic can establish deeper connections between men than the merely professional, as Aurelius’s closing interaction with the Clerk of Orleans illustrates, these connections, like th magic that instigates them, are unambiguous in their expressions and implications. Women’s magic has an element of ambivalence that expresses femininity’s compounded attraction and danger in romance. Whereas men master magic as an exceptionally difficult science that they can then freely deploy, women’s magic is less often learned than inherited, imposed by enchantment, or of unexplained origin, and not always under their control’ (150). ‘Merlin changes his shape, a typical expression of feminine magic’s ambiguity’—main interest being that women rather than men have embodiment trouble, no? (150). Is that actually so? Men dressing as women in seiðr related to this? ‘The few masculine fairies of romance, whose otherworldly origin and [151] inborn rather than clerical magic are more typical of the genre’s feminine figures, are restricted to the roles of lost father and peripheral challenger’ (151), cites Harf-Lancer 63-74. ‘One might suppose that a fairy mistress or spell-casting mother is simply superior to a mortal one, her protection more extensive and her beauty nearer perfection. But in these romances superiority is only half the sotry. Sometimes a magical mistress’s protection is contingent on a prohibition that is broken … [Launfal, Raymondin and Melusine, Pantope and Melior, Richard Coer de Lion’s mother in motif just like Walter Map iv.9—whence this?] Or, as in Dame Ragnell and the lady of Synadoun in Lybeus Desconus, a beautiful shape may belatedly revise a “forshapen” body that is repulsively animal’ (151). ‘Does Morgan [in SGGK] more accurately threaten Gawain’s life or nurture his growth? Are Dame Ragnell and the Wife of Bath’s old hag truly agly and aggressive or truly beautiful and obedient? Such bivalence is irreducible in romance and it is gendered feminine. Through an uncanniness that opposes yet is subsumed within intimacy, romances express the difference that marks the idea of woman, the marginal position of woman in narrative, and her resistance to both appropriation and dismissal’ (152). 153-4 re queyt use ambiguous word which is interesting re magic and women. ‘In feminine magic. romance mystifies the antifeminist topos of woman as contradiction and self-contradition. The ld hag’s courtship in Alsion’s tale reworks the canny deceptions Alison uses to win Jankyn into the uncanny ability to shape-shift’ (155). The Hag’s ‘curtain lecture does not favor lowborn poverty over gentle wealth but questions the validity of divisions between these categories, reinterpreting the distinction between poverty and wealth, for example, through paradoxes that resist distinction … Wealth and poverty become mobile doubles of one another rathe than isolated states. The hag’s bodily transformation is analagous’ (156). ‘Shape-shifting pleases the “worldly appetit” (III 1218) of the knight but again emphasizes the uncanny indeterminacy of the feminine. We have seen a similar process at work in the search for “what thyng that wrldly wommen loven best” [157] (III 1033), in which the cacophony of possible answers yields to a single response, yet “sovereignty” is itself multiple and indeterminate in meaning. For the Wife of Bath’s Tale as for other Middle English romances, woman’s uncanniness lies in her difference from men but also in an inner differing that defies understanding’ (156-7).

Most of this doesn’t grab me. But nb with spitting, ‘At the outset the Celtic fairies and their Christian exorcists come to resemble one another…’ GRRRRRR!

Only chapter 5 to go, if i can face it.

Cranstoun, James (ed.), Satirical Poems of the Time of the Reformation, Scottish Text Society, XXXX, 20, 2 vols (Edinburgh: Scottish Text Society, 1891–93)

Crawford, Barbara E. and Simon Taylor, ‘The Southern Frontier of Norse Settlement in North Scotland: Place-Names and History’, Northern Scotland, 23 (2003), 2–76.

*Crawford, J., ‘Evidences for Witchcraft in Anglo-Saxon England’, Medium Aevum, 32 (1963), XXXX; repr. in Witchcraft in the Ancient World and the Middle Ages, ed. by Brian P. Levack (Garland, 1992), pp. 153–70.

*Crawford, O. G. S., Archaeology in the Field (London,1953). App. re A-S pools etc.

Crawford, Robert, ‘Poetry, Memory, and Nation’, in Anthologies of British Poetry, ed. XXXXX (Rodopi 2000). XXXXX Contains discussion of Dream of the Rood in anthologies of Scottish poetry.

Crawford, Sally, Childhood in Anglo-Saxon England (Stroud: Sutton, 1999)

Crawford, Sally, ‘Anglo-Saxon Women, Furnished Burial, and the Church’, in Women and Religion in Medieval England, ed. by Diana Wood (Oxford, 2003), pp. 1–12. Final Phase/Conversion Period of burial goods burials, c. 650–800. Quite a lot of women with cruciform motifs in jewellery (2–4). in pagan period, ‘Women were buried with a greater range of artefacts than men. More females were buried with archaeologicaly recoverable artefacts than males, and within an inhumation cemetary, women’s grave goods tend to show greater wealth in terms of the inclusion of precious metals suhc as gold and silver, or of rre mterial such as amber and glass, than their male counterparts’ (4) [citing K. A. Brush, ‘Gender and Mortuary Analysis in Pagan Anglo-Saxon Archaeology’, Archaeological Review from Cambridge, 7 (1998), 76–89]. But are crosses really for Xians—she’s not sure (6–7) and rightly not I guess though NBs SS Balthilde and Cuthbert, buries with crossy jewellery (10–11). Changes in female kit in final hase suggesting chanes in dress—shorter necklaces, maybe veils. Regional differences reduced [citing G. Owen-Crocker, Dress in Anglo-Saxon England, 1986]. ‘What might, at first sight, be taken for a change in fashion, seems to indicate a fairly sudden and fundamental alteration to wht had previously been a traditional regional costume. One of the most important “messages” had changed, sugesting that the new “fashion” was linked to important cultural, if not political and religious, changes in Anglo-Saxon England’ (5). Also concentrtion of wealth as with males, but now fewer women with grave goods than men. ‘It has also been argued that the changes in the burial ritual indicate a change in the status of women within seventh- and eighth-century Anglo-Saxon society. Nicholas Stoodley has argued, on the basis of the change in the ratio of furnished male burial to female burial, that “there was no longer a role for the symbolic expression of femininity in death”. If the burial ritual had a function in displaying the power, wealth, and kinship affiliations of the deceased’s family, then the fact that fewer women, compared [6] to men, were being buried with status grave goods argues that patrilinear kinship was becoming dominant. Women’s burial no longer had a role in displaying ethnic identity or kinship affiliations’ (5–6) [citing N. Stoodley, ‘Burial Rites, Gender and the Creation of Kingdoms: The Evidence from Seventh-Century Wessex’, ASSAH, 10 (1999)]. But she points out that you still get rich female burials, laws don’t look bad or women either (6). 7–8 no ev of Xian efforts to prohibit furnished burial or change burial places. Barrow burials 9–11. Not clear that these are non-Xian or anti-Xian etc. Tricky. See also Geake 1997, Van de Noort 1993.

Crawford, S.J., ‘The Worcester Marks and Glosses of the Old English Manuscripts in the Bodleian, together with the Worcester Version of the Nicene Creed’, Anglia, 52 (1928), 1–25.

Crépin, Andre, Mihael Lapidge, Pierre Monat and Philippe Robin (ed. and trans.), Bède le Vénérable: Histoire ecclésiastique du peuple Anglais (Historia ecclesiastica gentis Anglorum), Sources chrétiennes, 489–91, 3 vols (Paris: Cerf, 2005). Actually Lapidge eds and that last two trans, first one does notes etc.

COINING OF PLACE-NAMES: Augustinaes ác; James and Deacon ii.20; iii.23 ‘fecit ibi monasterium, quod nunc Laestingaeu uocatur’--new coining?; iv.22 tunnacaestir; St. Boswell’s not at iv.27 but at least Boisil is (PVC?);

ROYAL SPACES: Lilla and the assassin story set in hall

TENTS: Aidan stays in a tent attached to side of church during last illness iii.17; tent for bones of æthelþryth iv.19; Bishop Eata whips out a tent for Herebald v.6; PVC 32 ‘Once when this most holy shepherd of the Lord’s flock was doing the round of his sheepfolds, he came into a rough mountain area whether many had gathered from the scattered villages to be confirmed. Now there was no church nor even a place in the mountains fit to receive a bishop and his retinue, so the people put up tents for him while for themselves they made huts of felled branches as best they could’ [NB tent as a high status thing]

DETAILS OF BUILDINGS’S CONSTRUCTION: (not exhaustive probably) iii.17; Candida Casa; iii.10–11, 16, 25; iv.23 dormitory, bell, roof, remote parts for newbies; iv.24 monastic architecture in Cædmon’s death; iv.25 communal and private buildings;

Crick, Julia, ‘Women, Posthumous Benefaction, and Family Strategy in Pre-Conquest England’, Journal of British Studies, 38 (1999), 399–422. Core observation is that when we can see what’s afoot, a testator giving land to church is often actually giving land bequeathed to them on condition that they give it to church later—male testators actually inherited from female and vice versa in various cases. Arguably just to make sure that somewhere down the line is someone with the memory and power to ensure that will is carried out. On the whole this reduces likely female ownership proper. When women do get to do stuff, they usually widows it turns out. So it’s not like tey’ve got much property of their own to dispose of normally. Morgengifu not always taken for granted (411–12).

Crick, J. C., ‘The British Past and the Welsh Future: Gerald of Wales, Geoffry of Monmouth and Arthur of Britain’, Celtica, 23 (1999), 60-75. Argues that Gerald of Wales doesn’t diss Wlater because hes not a good/credible historian, but because he doesn’t suit Gerald’s politics. A=Same argument reff’d re William of Newbury too. Handy. Online at http://www.celt.dias.ie/publications/celtica/c23.html

Cronan, Dennis, ‘Poetic Words, Conservatism and the Dating of Old English Poetry’, Anglo-Saxon England, 33 (2004), 23–50.

*Cross, J. E., and T. D. Hill (eds), The ‘Prose Solomon and Saturn’ and ‘Adrian and Ritheus’, McMaster Old English Studies and Texts, 1 (Toronto, 1982), 97-8 re demons getting to live on earth not in Hell.

Cross, Tom Peete, ‘The Celtic Origin of the Lay of Yonec’, Revue Celtique, 31 (1910), 413–71. 430–53 re ‘The shape-shifting fairy lover’. Lists fairy lovers 430 n. 2; I exclude fairy men and women seducing each other:

Táin Bó Fraich, Book f Leinster ed./tr. J. O’Beirne Crowe, Proceedings of the Royal Irish Academy, Irish MSS series I, pt. I (1870), p. 134ff.; alternative MS ed/tr RC 24 (1903), 127ff.

‘There is a suggestion of another love affair between a supernatural being and a mortal woman in the Agallamh na Senorach’

‘Muldumarec is by no means the only example of the supernatural lover in mediaeval romance. Caradoc, the hero of a long section of Perceval, is the son of a supernatural father and a mortal mother. The latter, after the birth of Caradoc, is shut up by her husband in a ‘tor de perrine’ (v. 12, 936), where she is visited by her lover, who is finally captured and punished’ see also Tydorel, Sir Gowther, Sir Orfeo.

431–32 re Dinnsenchus stuff Book of Leinster; 1 has Aed, son of the Dagda, shagging wife of Corrcend (mortal?) and being killed; Book of Ballymote has Bennan mac Brec kills Ibel, son of Mannanán mac Lir for similar offence. Refs to RC 16 1895 42 and 50 (therefore secondary not primary?) and Silva Gadelica. Yay.

434–35 also re Dinnshenchus, Book of Ballymote RC 15 (1894),272ff, 16 (1895), 31ff, 135ff., 269ff.! et al. refs. ‘ “Tuag, daughter of Conall, son of Eterscel, there was she reared, in Tara [apart from men], with a great host of Eriu’s kings’ daughters about her to protect her. After she had completed her fifth year no man was allowed to see her, so that the King of Ireland might have the wooing of her. Now Manannán sent unto her a messenger, (one) of his fair mes[435]sengers, even Fir Figail, son of (the elf-king) Eogabal (a fosterling and druid of the Tuatha Dé Danann), in a woman’s shape, and he was three nights there.” On the fourth night he chanted a “sleep-spell” over her and carried her off to Inver Glas, where she was accidentally drowned. Here, as in the lay of Yonec, a woman secluded from the society of men is visited by a fairy man who is a shape-shifter and who assumes the form of a woman in order to reach her, just as Muldumarec takes his mistress’s shape in order to receive the sacrament’ (434–35).

432–34 re Compert Mongain in Lebhor na h-Uidre, but summarises C15 version (!); ‘Manannán mac Lir assumes the form of Fiachna Lurga, king of the Ulster Dalriada, and with the latter’s permission visits his wife. He tells her that she will bear a son who shall be called Mongan and will be famous’ (433).

Tochmarc Etaine is thankfully fairy on fairy (440). Togail Bruidne Dá Derga 440–43. Dinnshenchas poem re Bude 443–53.

Cross, T. P., ‘The Celtic Fée in Launfal’, in Anniversary Papers by Colleagues and Pupils of George Lyman Kittredge: Presented on the Completion of his Twenty-Fifth Year of Teaching in Harvard University, June, MCMXIII, ed. by Robinson, Sheldon and Neilson (London, 1913), pp. 377–87. Usual dubious assumptions, e.g. ‘The stories outlined above belong to that group of mediæval poems known as Breton Lays; that is, they claim descent from Celtic tradition. That this claim is justified cannot, however, be assumed, for it is well known that not every poem calling itself a Breton Lay is based on Celtic material [is if any poem did so call itself!!]’ but finishes para by reckoning ‘Only in case our search through early Celtic literature prove fruitless, are we at liberty to turn elsewhere’ (379). Man…!

Does provide lots of egs. of fées à la fontaine etc. and usually 2 servants who take knight to their mistress, both An and OIr.

*Cross, Tom Peete, ‘The Celtic Elements in the Lays of Lanval and Graelent’, Modern Philology, 12 (1915), 585–644. Re maire de france.

Cross, Tom Peete, Motif-Index of Early Irish Literature, Indiana University Publications, Folklore Series, 7 (Bloomington: Indiana University, 1952). [Edinburgh .39806 Ind] Maddeningly gives references only to publications, not to texts. F300 Marriage or liaison with fairy. Vast majoriy concern female fairies and male mortals. F301.6* Fairy lover abducts fairy wife of mortal; F301.8* Fairy runs away from wedding with mortal girl; F305 offspring of fairy and mortal. XXXXweird, where’s the fairy loverentry that I thought underlay the following, and what’s it’s number?)

eriu 3 169f; early irish 350n; Thurneysen heldens. 613f.; rc 12 p. 63, 73; 31 430f, 443f. 446f. (ie. Cross 1910); TBD 12; voyage of bran ed meyer I 44f;

Crowley, Joseph, ‘Anglicized Word Order in Old English Continuous Interlinear Glosses in British Library, Royal 2. A. XX’, Anglo-Saxon England, 29 (2000), 123–51. Goes for ‘the last quarter of the eighth century or the first quarter of the ninth’ (123); n. 2 has full refs. For full decription see Doane 1994, i 52-9.

Crummey, Donald, ‘Literacy in an Oral Society: The Case of Ethiopian Land Records’, Journal of African Cultural Studies, 18.1 (June 2006), 9–22. DOI: 10.1080/13696850600750251. Totally cool similarities with medieval tradition, even to the point where records have witnesses and are written in the margins of liturgical texts, with cool material on the relationship of the oral context to the written. But little on place-names: just ‘In very few cases did informants fail to identify place names mentioned in the documents, an indication of the profound socio-cultural continuity obtaining in Gondär and Gojjam. We made particular soundings concerning the Qwesqwam mäzgäb [sic re font]. ‘The land of Bajäna’ is today’s Lay Armac’äho, where the principal place names were all still operative, opening up the possibility, still unrealized, of a detailed historical geography of this part of Ethiopia’ (15). Had some nice stuff about people nicking each others’ MSS too.

*Crummey, Donald, Land and Society in the Christian Kingdom of Ethiopia: From the Thirteenth to the Twentieth Century (Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 2000)

*Cruse, D. A., Lexical Semantics (Cambridge 1986)

, Catherine, Anglo-Saxon Church Councils c.650–c.850 (London: Leicester University Press, 1995). 298 reckons that P S-W (presumably in the west midlands religion book) puts Augustinaes Ac at Aust, Gloucs, and views it as an aetiological tale. 83 mentions reporting of direct speech in synodal accounts—interesting and something which I should follow up. Cites HE IV.5 (council of Hertford); Boniface, Epistolae no 59 on trial of Aldebert and Clement; VSW ch 29-32, 53; S 1258, S 1187.

Cubitt, Catherine, ‘Sites and Sanctity: Revisiting the Cult of Murdered and Martyred Anglo-Saxon Royal Saints’, Early Medieval Europe, 9 (2000), 53–83. Arguing for SS lives and cults as reflections of popular lay Xianity in ASE. Daring. Cool. 56–57 re problems for getting at popular religion; ‘All of these are sensible cautions but have [57] resulted in a curious state of affairs where it is respectable for a historican to discuss popular practices in any period from about 1100 onwards but not for earlier centuries. Anglo-Saxon religion tends therefore to be seen from the top down, in terms of the church’s teaching and regulations. The resulting picture is dominated by the institutional and by the learned. Thus the religious beliefs of the seventh to eleventh centuries look extraordinarily educated and orthodox. But is seems most unlikely that the Christian beliefs of the ordinary lay person in the pre-Conquest period simply consisted of those derived from orthodox teaching’ (56–57). ‘ ‘The corpus of saints’ lives concerning royal saints who met violent ends can act as a window onto lay and non-élite religious beliefs; it manifests a number of characteristics which are unusual in Anglo-Saxon hagiography. These include motifs and episodes not derived from biblical and patristic Christianity. In contrast to texts like Bede’s Life of St Cuthbert or the eleventh-century Life of St Æthelwold, which generally imitate either the Bible or the standard hagiographical models such as Sulpicius Severus’ Life of St Martin, these vitae recount stories about severed heads, dismembered corpses, sacred trees and holy wells. Such motifs probably have their origins in pre-Christian beliefs which continued into the Christian period and which were often absorbed into the religious practices of the ordinary laity and probably not perceived as pagan or opposed to Christian traditions’ (57). Good on vengeance miracles, localisation, etc. (57). Often a high-status guy gets hit (58). Cf. *J. M. H. Smith, ‘Oral and Written: Saints, Miracles, and Relics in Brittany, c. 850-1250’, Speculum, 65 (1990), 309-43. ‘A recent study of Oswald’s cult by Thacker also argues for its lay origins and draws attention to other curious features such as its interest in Oswald’s severed head and dismembered corpse. Thacker accumulates evidence for the association between Oswald’s cult and sacred wells and points out that the healing of a horse by Oswald may be linked to the pagan worship of horses’ (61). Otherwise becomes a bit of a tour round SS lives, but might be useful for waking dead SS research.

Cubitt, Catherine, ‘Virginity and Mysogyny in Tenth- and Eleventh-Century England’, Gender and History, 12 (2000b), 1–32. Actually just about Ælfric. ‘Virginity was the banner of the reform movement, as Mary Clayton’s work on the cult of the Virgin Mary has amply demonstrated. The movement demanded celibacy and preferably virginity of its own monk and nuns and extended these essentially monastic standards to the secular clergy and to women living under vows. Sexual abstinence was the hallmark of the new monasticism’ (3). 2–6 on Ælfric being totally into chastity and core to his doctrine etc., 6–9 and actually the whole article really on how this manifest in his texts. 5–6 on intimate association of devil with lust etc. ‘This potent association between virginity and martyrdom had implications for Ælfric’s understanding of the monastic life. The virgin martyrs were powerful icons of the monastic life but their intended audience was composed, I shall argue, primarily of male monks rather than of the female religious. For Ælfric, virginity was essentially an attribute of male monasticism: he associated this supreme spiritual virtue chiefly with men rather than with women. Female monasticism was marginal to the ideology of the monastic reforms in England…’ (9, cf. 9–13). The business with chastity crucial because reformers have got into an ideology that those who celebrate mass should be sexually pure, and this makes women’s chastity kind of irrelevant and Æ just seems to marginalise them (13). 13–14 re Ælfric on nativity of Mary: ‘It thus appears that for Ælfric the virginity of women was problematic and prone to carnal emptation and spiritual danger: his discussion of it has a strong negative undertow’ (14). ‘If women in Ælfric’s writings are more capable of bearing contradictory meanings than their male counterparts, these meaningsa re also more consistently sexualised than men’s. For example, in seeking to display the error of astrology, Ælfric presents the example of two girls born simultaneously—‘one will be modest and the other shameless’. Once virginity is removed as their prime characteristic, then the symbolic residue left to them is positively radioactive with ssexual danger. Sexuality rather than virginity becomes women’s essential quality’ (16, cf. 16–18). Men don’t do as badly. asks ‘How influential was Ælfric’s teaching?’ (21) and emphs that he’s important and influential with lots of contexts in high places 21–22; ‘While Æfric’s attitudes may not have been typical of all Anglo-Saxon churchmen, and indeed may have been anathema to the laity at large, they mattered to many of those who held power’ (22).

Cubitt, Catherine, ‘Folklore and Historiography: Oral Stories and the Writing of Anglo-Saxon History’, in Narrative and History in the Early Medieval West, ed. by E. M. Tyler and R. Balzaretti, Studies in the Early Middle Ages, 16 (Brepols, 2006), pp. 189–223. ‘Popular stories have a vital contribution to make to the study of orality in the early Middle Ages. Historians have tended to focus upon questions of orality and literacy in governmental administration and legal dealings while amongst literary scholars, the most pressing questions have concerned the composition of Old English poetry and the nature of heroic verse’ (210).

Curzan, Anne, Gender Shifts in the History of English (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2003). Ch. 5 ‘Gender and asymmetrical word histories: when boys could be girls’ basically on changing lexicon of gendered words for people 133–79. Seems to seriously rate Kleparsky and I must check it out; also into Geeraerts. Methodological comments of relevant hist. semantics. 134–41. ‘Kelparsky dates the revitalization of historical semantics to developments in cognitive linguistics, particularly protype semantics as developed by scholars such as EleanorRosch … In brief, the premise of cognitive linguistics is that human reason or thought is embodied, and that the categories of language impose structure on the world, rather than the world being objectively reflected in language’ (136). 136–37 on prototype theory, where you don’t do componential type stuff but identify a focus of meaning, whose limits are fuzzy (fuzzy being a technical term), with metaphor providing the linking mechanism for some of the more peripheral members. Particularly into ‘non-denotational meaning’ (connotation to the rest of us…) as this is very tied into social structures etc. (137). ‘As Kleparsky also notes, Geeraerts sets up one of the more useful explanatory frameworks for semantic change, stating that any explanation must consist of: (1) an overview of the range of possible changes (including mechanisms of semantic change); (2) factors that cause speakers to realize one of these possibilities; and (3) an examination of how change spreads through the linguistic community’ (137). ‘The more speaker-oriented perspective espoused by models such as Geerarts’s is critical to conceptualizing how words change meaning over time. Given that speakers are active participants in language formation and change, the concept of “communicative need” should be included as a factor in the analysis of any semantic change. Word meaning is inextricably intertwined with the extralinguistic world and with speakers’ attempts to talk about their perspective on [137] that world; speakers’ expressive needs, therefore, strongly influence new word creation and changes in use and meaning of existing words within a speech community (the realisation of possibilities, as Geeraerts puts it)’ (136–37). ‘Even with a more discourse-oriented or speaker-based model of semantics, it can be easy to fall into historical semantic explanations that describe words changing meanings rather than speakers using words with a different meaning, in part because the written records that remain generally cannot recapture the dynamics of discourse. In addition, the overall systematicity of language can encourage explanations based on language structure. The histories of words often seem to lend themselves to functional explanations; in the literature written on the development of words for adults and children in English, the word need crops up fairly often. This “need” is often discussed in a structural framework, accompanied by ideas such as “holes” in a given semantic field “pulling in” a new word as a “slot-filler” (….[ref]…). Perhaps a more useful way to think of “need” is communicative need, especially in the field of semantics, which is so closely tied to the extralinguistic world of speakers and referents; communicative need as well as avoidance of ambiguity and the [139] maintenance of communicative clarity can effectively explain many lexical innovations and shifts in meaning’ (138–39). Yeah, tho’ NB that paradigmatic change effected for non-semantic reasons might open up semantic possibilities. ‘Fundamentally, Kleparski’s (1997) emphasis on the “singularity of semantic change” is critical: the centrality of individual words and the individuality of semantic change. Each word, in many ways, has its own story to tell. And yet, the historical semantic patterns of words that refer to similar referents are often undeniable, so the story of one word may be revealing about more than just that word’s meaning and history’ (141).

Stuff about boy and girl and things not too relevant; “Man and Wife?” 158–72. 159 re how man and woman haven’t had proper studies for English and certainly OE—but Umeå project by Persson doing stuff? Whew didn’t get much more out of this, but useful to citeto give impression of learning…

Cusack, Carole M., Conversion among the Germanic Peoples (New York and London: Cassell, 1998). ‘Trompf’s argument is also fascinating because he attemps to identify such a transition in the development of Gnostic theologies in the early Christian period, demonstrating that the colonial paradigm may be useful in illuminating the more distant past … In an article which attempted to isolate the characteristics of the ‘perennial religion’ … [15], Trompf triumphantly charted the victory of this-worldy primal concepts over other-worldly Christian ideas. Perennial religion is characterized by a concern for the physical well-being of the individual and the tribe, an ideal of warrior hood, and a continued relationship with departed ancestors. Key terms in this world view include power, fertility, light and darkness’ (14-15). ‘In general, the more internally-oriented and doctrinally defined versions of Christianity and associated theories of religious experience are demonstrably inappropriate to the study of Christianization in the early medieval period, principally because the people who comprised the various early medieval societies were not accustomed to regarding themselves as discrete individuals capable of personal decisions in the area of beliefs and practices’ (18). Disses Russel chapter 5.

Cusack, Carole M., 'Brigit: Goddess, Saint, ‘Holy Woman’, and Bone of Contention', in On a Panegyrical Note: Studies in Honour of Garry W Trompf, ed.by Victoria Barker, Frances Di Lauro and Carole Cusack, Sydney Studies in Religion (2007), 75-97 http://escholarship.library.usyd.edu.au/journals/index.php/SSR/article/view/126/147. It's a journal but it looks like a book! I think.

Czarniawska, Barbara, `New Plots are Badly Needed in Finance: Accounting for the Financial Crisis of 2007-2010', Accounting, Auditing and Accountability Journal, 25 (2012), 756--75. http://dx.doi.org/10.1108/09513571211234240.

D

Dagný Kristjánsdóttir, 'Listin að pína konur', Timarit máls og menningar (2009/4), 109--13 (review of Steinar Bragi's Konur). 'Þetta er Reykjavík fyrir hrunið---Róm fyrir brunann' (109).

Dailey, Erin Thomas, ‘The Vita Gregorii and Ethnogenesis in Anglo-Saxon Britain’, Northern History, 47 (2010), 195–207

Dale, Corinne, '(Re)viewing the Warrior Woman: Reading the Old English “Iceberg” Riddle from an Ecofeminist Perspective', Neophilologus, 103 (2019), 435-49. https://doi.org/10.1007/s11061-018-9588-2. 'the gender of riddle subjects has rarely been the focus of Old English riddle analysis, with most studies interested in identifying new solutions and analogues, or understanding how the riddle genre as a whole functions'.

Dale, Corinne, The Natural World in the Exeter Book Riddles (Woodbridge: Boydell & Brewer, 2017) Interesting point about natural materials in eb riddles being from 60 onwards ( p. 41). Relevant musings on trees and place p. 50 -- different from agricultural crops, which are annual and about a different engagement with place..

D’Amico, Giuliano, `The Whole World Is One Atom Station: Laxness, the Cold War, Postcolonialism, and the Economic Crisis in Iceland', Scandinavian Studies, 87 (2015), 457--88. https://muse.jhu.edu/article/616175. 'Atómstöðin portrays the starting point of a network of power relations and economic-­ideological positions that arose in postwar Iceland and developed throughout the twentieth century. If one reads the book after the economic crisis, it shows the continuity of this network and the actuality of the events and positions it describes' (p. 480).

Damico, Helen, Beowulf’s Wealhtheow and the Valkyrie Tradition (Madison: The University of Wisconsin Press, 1984). Basic argument is that Wealþeow has her parallels in ON just like everyone else (esp. 16)—seems decent premise. ‘In contrast to this radiant, courtly warrior-figure, Old Norse literature records what is thought to be an earlier conception of the valyrie as an elemental force, a fierce battle-demon. These grim war-spirits were of souther Germanic origin. The location was evidently of some improtance, for even when the figure is poeticizd into the gold-adorned noblewoman discussed above, it retains its southern origin as an identifying mark’ (43). hmm, do I believe this? Main ref is Donahue 2–5. ‘Occasionally, the Old Norse documents juxtapose the sinister battle-demon with the radiant, courtly figure of the later tradition. Thus, Brynhild is placed in opposition to the giantess (in Helr), Freyja to Hyndla (in [44] Hyndl), Svava to Hrimgerth, and Yrsa to Olof. It is this adversary relationship that Ellis Davidson sees as possibly reflective of two distinctive religious conceptions of the afterlife’ (43-44). 41-44 kind of survey of ON ev but not the sort of rigour I’d want. ‘Latin equivalents for the term wælcyrge … found in Anglo-Saxon glosses…’!!NO!!! (44). 44-45 mihtigan wif in Wið fær as valks. Bee charm 45 likewise. Takes Grendel’s ma as Valk 46. Hrrmph. ‘Modthrytho’ 46-49 ‘Although her environment is courtly and she herself is a freoðuwebbe “peace-weaver”, Modthrytho’s weaving of slaughter-bonds is reminiscnet of the weaving of xhains and twisting of shackles in which the idisi of the Merseberg charm engage’ (47). No ev for this but an oddly attractive idea. Would it work at all for Deor, Völundarkviða, etc? Re Modthrytho 46–47, citable circumspectly for valk/shield-maiden link I guess. Reckons Modthrytho’s paralleled by Grendel’s ma re Æschere: ‘The details of both sequences—the doomed beloved champion, the hand-seizure, the victim’s enthralment, the shearing sword, the personal injury, and the baleful death—all point to similarity in action between the ides aglæcwif [macrons] … and the peerless peace-weaver’ (48). Hmm. There must be decent articles on Thryth around. Sees sexual element in Freyja etc.; ‘In fact, all the valkyrie-brides have erotic desire as a dominant trait. An understanding of this characteristic may lie at the root of Aldhelm’s association of concupiscence with the valkyrie when he glosses wælcyrie for veneris in De Laude Virginitatis and offers gydene ‘goddess’ as a synonym’ (48) check that [cites Napier 1900, 115]. And how right is she about ‘perverted eroticism in Freyja’s character’ etc.? (49). ‘At base, all the female characters under consideration seek gratification’—not sexual, just to get their own way. Cf. WBT! Even when disaster must follow (e.g. Sigrun in HH2) (49). Fair enough; fits also with Hervör. Efforts to connect this with female saints (48-50) less convincing. Seems to go with Eliason that Thryth and Hygd the same person (51); either way, points up a pairing like Freyja-Hyndla etc. And suggests Grendel’s ma-Wealhtheow likewise (51). 51-3 re Housesteads ex-votos re Mars and alaisiages, poss. female war-goddess types; look sfairly good from her description. ‘About midway between the third and eleventh centuries, another image of the valkyrie began to surface. Archaeological artefacts of the North indicate that the gender of Odin’s emissaries on the battlefield had changed. His female companions had been displaced by dancing youths, as the figures on the Sutton Hoo helmet an Torlunda dies would suggest. Memorial stones and pendants represent the battle-maid transformed into a [54] welcoming figure at the courtyard at Valhalla…’ 53-4, citing a couple of pages of Ellis, Pagan Scandinavia for this. Cool idea if so, as it would be paralleled by OE goings on, no?

Of nine instances of ful in Bwf, 6 are re Wealhtheow. suggests link with bragarfull 54-55, citing Yngl. ch. 36, Hákonar saga góða ch. 14; HHrvðsn; ‘The ritual in both Old Norse episodes quoted above may well describe the formalized activity taking place in Wealhtheow’s initial sequence (55). Actually, yeah, the parallels she suggests are pretty good (55-6); esp. ‘As do the Nordic oaths, Beowulf’s vow has religious and fatalistic force. When Welhtheow holds out the ful to the prince, she utters a prayer of thanksgiving to God in which she allusively identifies Beowulf as the purger of evil in Heorot. In receiving the vessel, he accepts this identity. His gilpcwide over the ful—the pledge to the future—is a seal of destiny … The instigator of the gilpcwide, the bearer of the charge of heroic destiny, has been Wealhtheow. // In Old Norse heroic poetry … the figure with authority to present the challenge of heroic destiny to the hero is the valkyrie … // The religious aura that informs the relationship of the hero and the valkyrie of the Helgi lays is the quality that best elucidates the encounters between Beowulf and Wealhtheow’ (56). I rather like this (for full argument cite 53-57). ‘Wealhtheow may very well be the earliest representation of the other concept of the battle-maid: the nobly born valkyrie, human with supernatural attributes, that permeates the heroic lays of the Poetic Edda’ (57); but NB that Wealhtheow needn’t be a valk as such—cf. Guðrún or Hervör as reflecting and modelled on Brynhildr but not her, etc.

58–68 worries over name. One Erik Björkman argued in 1919 that wealh was in continental sense of Romance, Frankish, þeow could denote noble hostage etc. (62-4). Gordon in 1935 took it as ‘chosen servant’, 1st element originally < *wala, cognate with Valþjófr (? will that work?), OHG waladeo. Cf. Ecgþeow ‘sword-servant’, etc. ‘Gordon and Björkman also observe that, except in Beowulf, -þeow [macr. on e] unfailingly appears in men’s names in Old English and Old Norse, as it does in Old High German, barring those few instances where it is recorded in a woman’s name’ (65)! But interesting. rchaic? (65). ‘When –þeow[macr on e] does appear in a woman’s name, Gordon notes, it carries martial and religious associations, the first element referring either to the war-goddess Hild (OHG Hildithiu), the valkyrie Funn (ON Gunnþjófr), or more generally to “battle” .’ (65). ‘The composite characteristics deriving from Björkman’s and Gordon’s readings of Wealhþeow[macr] create a portrait of a female of noble birth, southern in origin, who undergoes a period of enslavement, and who has marital and priestly attributes. [!!!re conflation; but see further:] In Germanic literature, the female figure that epitomizes these traits is the valkyrie in the heroic lays of the Poetic Edda. As already noted in the discussion of the figure in Chapter 3, one of the prime characteristics of the battle-maids—in both their grim and their benevolent aspects—is their southern origin. Another is their royal or aristocratic birth. In addition, the valkyries consistently share the experience of a momentary enslavement that subsequently leads to freedom and/or regained status. Volundarkviða[hooked o] describes an abduction of three of these alvitr “all-wise”, meyjar sunnan “maidens from the south”…[66], and apparently Brynhild endures a similar enslavement. Called Hjálmmeyjar “helmet-maids” and hjámvitr “helmet-creatures”, terms that relate conceptually to Björkman’s rendering of ides Helminga, they are the chosen servants of Odin and, in the heroic lays, charge the hero-king with his destiny’ (65-66). Well, interesting. Much that is wayward in the methodologies here tho’—just gets on happily with wealh as = wæl! Even tho’ she understands its transparent meaning (59-62).

‘Apart from its use as a gloss for virgo, ides is chiefly poetic terminology. In Genesis, it carries the general sense of woman (occasionally with the specific connotation of “wife”) irrespective of class or marital state. Hagar, Sarah, and the exiled women of Sodom and Gomorrah are ides, as are Cain’s wife and Lot’s daughters (when unmarried and virgins). In nearly all instances where the term has a specific referent, it is accompanied by either an adjective or an appositional phrase that denotes radiance, beauty, or nobility … / In both Christian and secular epic, ides likewise appears in conjunction with delimiting words that express nobility, beauty, or courage’ (68). Except G’sM of course (69)—sees deliberate semantic tension here, but cfs. dís. NBs they’re ‘very closely allied’ to ‘valkyries’ (69-70). NBs Idistaviso and Grimm (70). NBs ides Scyldinga, dís Skjoldunga[hooked o] (71). Assocs Wealhtheow’s mægþa hose (924b) with bands of vvalkries etc. 71-3. Nothing really to support it, but again, an interesting idea. Potential semantic overlap of ides and mægþ, nothing v. convincing (73). Goes for martial connotations in hos, NBs he could have used heap or þreat. Hmm, does this stand up? (73-4). Otherwise stuff on tenuous verbal similarities, esp. goldhroden, gull(h)roðinn, in descriptions that aren’t too well handled and don’t really go anywhere. ‘Wealhtheow’s possession of the healsbeaga[macr 2nd e] mæst, the necklace that the poet compares to Freyja’s Brísinga men, is an identifying object that un-[85]questionably allies her with the chief valkyrie. Both objects have religious associations. The healsbeah[macr] has been identified by Magoun as a stallahringr ‘altar-ring’ upon which sacred oaths were made (see Chap. 7 below, pp. 169–71) and by Ellis Davidson as a possible symbolic ornament … worn by worshippers of Odin. Moreover, both Freyja and Wealhtheow are associated with the “peace-weaver” motif; they are symbols of amnesty, even if only temporary, between nations in Wealtheow’s case and between rival deities in Freyja’s’ (84-5). 68-86 citable as careless assumption that ides really is significantly similar to dís—tho’ I guess also successfully emphs the potential that this is so.

*Damico, Helen, ‘Þrymskviða and Beowulf’s Second Fight: The Dressing of the Hero in Parody’, SS 58 (1986), c. 407. What’s SS? Scand stud?

Damico, Helen, ‘The Valkyrie Reflex in Old English Literature’, in New Readings on Women in Old English Literature, ed. by Helen Damico and Alexandra Hennessey Olsen (Bloomington, Indiana, 1990), pp. 176–90. Goes with sigewif = bees as also = valkyries, following Davidson, Chadwick, et al. (178). Nothing convincing enough to stick otherwise.

Dance, Richard, ‘North Sea Currents: Old English–Old Norse Relations, Literary and Linguistic’, Literature Compass, 1 (2004), 1–10, available at http://vle.leeds.ac.uk/site/nbodington/english/ugrad/onm/Dance%202004.pdf

Danielli‚ Mary, “Initiation Ceremonial from Norse Literature,” Folk-Lore, 61 (1945)‚ 229–45

D’Aronco, Maria Amalia, ‘The Botanical Lexicon of the Old English Herbarium’, Anglo-Saxon England, 17 (1988), 15–33. ‘Among the innovations which were stimulated, even if indirectly, by the knowledge of Greek and Latin medicine and botany, one may note the compound wedeberge which translates the Latin elleborum album (Veratrum album Linn., ‘white hellebore’). The Old English compound does not correspond either formally or semantically to its Latin model. Nevertheless its first element wede, ‘lunatic’, ‘crazy’ (cf. OE wod ‘madness’) finds some justification in the belief which in classical antiquity associated elleborum with madness’ (30).

D'Aronco, Maria Amalia, 'The Transmission of Medieval Knowledge in Anglo-Saxon England: The Voices of Manuscripts', in Form and Content of Instruction in Anglo-Saxon England in the Light of Contemporary Manuscript Evidence: Papers Presented at the International Conference, Udine, 6-8 April 2006, ed. by Patrizia Lendinara, Loredana Lazzari, and Maria Amalia D'Aronco, Textes et Études du Moyen Âge, 39 (Turnhout: Brepols, 2007), pp. 35-113.

Davíð Ólafsson, 'Wordmongers: Post-Medieval Scribal Culture and the Case of Sighvatur Grímsson' (unpublished Dotoral thesis, University of St Andrews, 2009), accessed from http://hdl.handle.net/10023/770 23 July 2012

Davidson, Andrew R., ‘The Legends of Þiðreks saga af Bern’ (Unpublished Ph.D. Dissertation, University of Cambridge, 1995) [PhD. 19711]. analogues to Velent surveyed 8–15. ‘Re La3amon Wite3e ref: ‘clearly his[Weland’s] rôle as ‘alusic smið’ (21130) has been transferred to his son. Sir Frederic Madden translates “he [the smith] was names Wygar, the witty wight’, but G. L. Kittredge corrected this by pointing out that Wygar would be an appropriate name for a piece of armour, derived from OE “wigheard”, “battle-hard”, and that Wite3e could be from OE Widia (see ‘Viðga’, below). This interpretation has been generally accepted by later commentators’ (9, with refs n. 9 not incl. Allen’s trans). 13 nicely disses idea that Weland is a cripple on FrC due to bent leg—everyone on the left panel has one + one of the Magi! NBs that the two giants from whom Duke Wielant flees in the Low German Heldenbuch (summary p. 8) are like the dwarves in Þiðreks saga (16). ‘Þiðreks saga and Vólundarkviða are the only two sources that definitely make the figure supernatural. Admittedly the other sources say nothing against it, and La3amon lends his dubious support to the idea’ (20). NB tho’ I have 3, Andrew has yogh. Vaði useful survey of analogues 21–29, otherwise nothing exciting. Viðga 30–36. ‘Yet the popularity of this figure, who might be the Vidigoia that Jordanes calls the “bravest of the Goths, [who] perished by the guile of the Sarmatians” (§178) and lists (§43) among those “whose fame among them [the Goths] is great; such heroes as admiring antiquity scarce proclaims its own to be”, has subsequently waned to such an extent that there is no standard English form of his name for the use of present-day scholars—a melancholy reflection’ (30). 32–33 re modern Scand ballads with interesting analogues to Völundr stuff. Nothing very certain, but some nice correspondences. 42–50 Valtari.

**Hilda Davidson, ‘Fostering by Giants in Old Norse Sagas’, Medium Ævum, 10 (1941). Bárðar saga in it apparently.

*Davidson, H. E., ‘Shape-Changing in Old Norse Sagas’, in Animals in Folklore, ed. by J. P. Porter and W. Russell (London, 1978), 126–42.

*Davidson, T., ‘Elf-Shot Cattle’, Antiquity 30 (1956)

Davidson, Thomas, ‘Notions Concerning the Wieland Saga’, Folklore, 69 (1958), 193-95. Summary of C. Ballhausen, same title, Powder Metallurgy Bulletin 7 1956 69-73. Demythologising Velent’s sword-manufacturing in Þiðreks saga. A bit interesting.

Davies, Anthony, ‘Witches in Anglo-Saxon England’, in Scragg 1989 [which?!XXXX], pp. 41-56. Discusses Hereward witch, hills, Wilfrid, Norse analogues p. 43 (omits Hrólfs saga). Sceptical of magicl importance of all that—just handy if yer gonna curse someone. Considers Hereward witch fabrication. Malmesbury, Gesta Regum, re a witch. Kind of cool but again no doubt a load of bollox (43-5). ‘William of Malmesbury was a “notable historian … learned and original, and … a good writer”. But his analytic intelligence which is evident when he deals with the early Anglo-Saxon period vanishes when he comes to the immediate past. It is then he serves up fables like that of the witch of Berkeley. A recent commentator has suggested that this uncritcal attitude to his own time suggests an “ambivalent attitude to the past” and a “degree of inner conflict” in William’s view of historical reality [R. Thompson, William of Malmesbury (Woodbridge, 1987), p. 24]. Events long past he could deal with free of the constraints imposed by his monastic background, the near present he could not. Hence the increased presence of trivial anecdotes and miracles as he neared his own age’ (45). Robertson, pp. 68-9 charter discussed pp. 49-51. NB copyist writes Ælfsige and Ælsie.

*Davies, Anthony, ‘Sexual Behaviour in Later Anglo-Saxon England’, in The Noble Craft, ed. by Erik Kooper, Costerus 80 (Atlanta, 1991), pp. 83–106.

Davies, James, Medieval Market Morality: Life, Law and Ethics in the English Marketplace, 1200--1500 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2012). http://books.google.co.uk/books?id=DlaM3SrlrsUC&. Clearly useful re Piers Plowman.

*Davies, Janet, The Welsh Language (Cardiff: University of Wales Press, 1993).

Davies, Janet, `Welsh', in Languages in Britain and Ireland, ed. by Glanville Price (Oxford: Blackwell, 2000), pp. 78--108.

Davies, Jeremy, The Birth of the Anthropocene (Oakland, CA: University of California Press, 2016).

Davies, Owen, ‘Healing Charms in Use in England and Wales 1700-1950’, Folklore, 107 (1996), 19–32.

Davies, Owen, ‘Hag-Riding in Nineteenth-Century West-Country England and Modern Newfoundland: An Examination of an Experience-Centred Witchcraft Tradition’, Folk Life, 35 (1997), 36-53. Basically arguing for the applicability of Ness 1978 and Hufford 1982 to C19 English data, which seems pretty convincing. ‘Up to the early twentieth century, in parts of western and southern England, the dialect terms “hag-riding” and “hagging” were populary used to describe a terrifying nocturnal assault by a witch. In Somerset and Dorset between 1852 and 1875, at least six court cases resulted from assaults upon suspected witches accused of hag-riding’ (36). ‘…during the nineteenth century, it was only in parts of western and southern England that the term was commonly and directly applied to witches and their nocturnal assaults’ (36). Lexically a Somerset, Dorset, Wiltshire, West Sussex thing, but he finds most going on in Somerset and Dorset (37). NB that this is pretty much Wessex, and it is possible that the prevalence of this sort of thing in the W-S medical texts is partly local (tho’ of course NB the geog. distrib. of mara etc. is nothing if not wide!); different emphases in Socttish stuff, perhaps. ‘In the context of the hag-riding experience, the term “hag” was also applied to fairies who, like witches, were accused of riding horses at night, leaving them exhausted, sweating, and with tangled manes in the morning. In Somerset, for example, horses were said to be “hag-rided” as well as “pixy-rided” by the fairies, and amongst the people living in the Axminster area, near the Devon and Dorset border, the “Hag” was known as “a kind of demoniacal fairy, supposed to possess supernatural power over horses and other animals”.’ (37). Similar term in Newfoundland, many migration- and trading-links between the areas (37-38). 40-41 covers C19 West Country data. 41-42 notes that C19 folks us. see the witch who attacks them, but puts this down to cultural context. ‘In this context it is worth noting that while fairies were often accused of hag-riding horses, I have not come across any accounts where a person has claimed to have been hag-ridden by a fairy. This could be directly linked to the witchcraft etiology of hag-riding attacks, in that the hag-ridden victim usually has someone, i other words a local witch, very much in mind. During a hag-riding attack the victim’s mind was more likely to preject a clear physical image of a known person, rather than the hazy, unformed popular image of a fairy’ (42). ‘As both Ness and Hufford have discussed, the hag-riding experience, as with various syndromes recorded in non-Western cultures, have often been side-lines as culture-bound. However, it bears remarkabale similarities to the well recorded, medically recognized, condition known as “sleep paralysis”, which is associated with the disturbance of REM sleep episodes. Ness has summarized the symptoms of sleep paralysis as follows: an inability to perform voluntary movements on awakening (usually shortly after falling asleep), often accompanied by vivid hypnagogic hallucinations lasting several minutes which end either spontaneously, or as a result of the sufferer being touched or spoken to. After the experience the sufferer feels anxious, exhausted and sweaty’ (42). 42-45 re demographic distribution ofhag-riding. Seems to be basically summary of Hufford. ‘This study should also caution historians from dismissing the perceived reality of witchcraft assaults’ (51). NB that while this looks good re, say, Jón Arnason’s account, it’s not much like the W-S medical texts which seem concerned with fever.

Davies, Owen, Cunning Folk: Popular Magic in English History (London, 2003). ‘There has been considerable discussion in recent decades concerning the survival of shamanism in the magical traditions of Europe, particularly in the Balkans and north-east Europe. Based on the evidence from early modern witchcraft ttrials and more recent ethnographic research, it has been mooted that the practices and beliefs of some European cunning-folk, particularly in the south and east, displayed shamanic qualities. This ties in with the wider notion that cunning-folk represented an archaic survival of pan-European, pre-Christian religion. Referring to witchcraft and magic in early modern France, for instance, one historian has stated that, [sic re comma] ‘cunnning-folk are perhaps the most complete embodimentof the conglomeration of Roman Catholic doctrine, magical practices, animism, paganism, and common sense that were all to be found in the villagers’ mental world’. Can we really talk of paganism and anaimismwith regard to cunning-folk? More recently, a fine translation of a fascinating German study of a sixteenth-century Alpine healer, Chonrad Stoecklin, waspublished under the altered title of the Shaman of Oberstdorf. Shamanism in early modern Germany? England is even further away geographically and culturally from the main focus of this debate, but some engagement with it is isntructive’ (177). But doesn’t buy it. Even the stuff involving trances etc., without journeys in spirit world, is just ‘a generic form of faith healing apparent even today in the world of Christian evangelism’ (180). ‘While there was presumably a commercial motive in labelling Chonrad Stoecklin a ‘shaman’, there was also a credible interpretive [sic] reason in that he claimed that his magical abilities derived from his periodic travels with the Nachtschar or ‘phantoms of the night’. These journeys would begin with the appearance of an angel guide, at which point he would, in his own words, be ‘overcome by lethargy, an [sic] unconsciousness’. [citing trans. p. 23] One might call this state trance-like, but considering these visits mostly occurred at night, as with the benandanti, one might also describe it as sleep’ (182). ‘Examining the arying emphasis magical practitioners placed on fairy relations and innate spirit mediation at a regional level leads us back to those two major cultural influences—religion and literacy’ (183), so post-reformation healer’s can’t rely on fairy lore for appeal, but literacy; those that do as in Sicily fairy types are poor women. Biggest FX in protestant countries. This doesn’t nec. affect fairy belief, only its relevance to healers’ power, as in C19 Wales (182–84). Finally lays into the shamanic bit 185, so total dissing is 177–85. Vs paganism 185–86: ‘As lay magical healers, cunning folk certainly filled a pre-Christian role in society, just as the priest occupied a pre-Christian role as official mediator between the living and the spirit world, between the mortal and the immortal. But few historical insights are to be gained from seeking an archaic or shamaic lineage for cunning-folk. Such people were products of the religious cultures of their time and place, and they operated within the social boundaries and belief systems of their present, not their distant past. In pagan Europe there were people like [186] cunning-folk, just as there were blacksmiths, weavers and potters, but to emphasise their pagan roots is about as meaningful ormeaningless as pointing out the pagan origins of early modern potting’ (185–86).

Davies, Wendy, `Land and Power in Early Medieval Wales', Past & Present, 81 (November 1978), 3‒23.

Davies, Wendy, `Unciae: Land-Measurement in the Liber Landavensis', Agricultural History Review, 21 (1973), 111‒121.

Davies, Wendy, An Early Welsh Microcosm: Studies in the Llandaff Charters, Royal Historical Society, Studies in History Series, 9 (London: Royal Historical Society, 1978)

Davies, Wendy, The Llandaff Charters (Aberystwyth: The National Library of Wales, 1979)

*Davies, Wendy, 'The Place of Healing in Early Irish Society', in Sages, saints and storytellers: Celtic studies in honour of Professor James Carney (1989) pp. 43-55. Cusack 2007 says that 'Wendy Davies has studied the healing miracles, noting that the percentage overall is small and suggesting that "Irish clerical writers did not initially see healing as an appropriate manifestation of saintly power" ' citing this work. Interesting claim--would perhaps imply low cultural salience of healing in religion at this time? Useful re morality and health, markku, jari stuff?

Davies, Wendy, ‘The Celtic Kingdoms’, in The New Cambridge Medieval History: Volume I, c. 500‒c. 700, ed. by Paul Fouracre (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2005), pp. 232‒62. Emphs ease of communication in Ireland (so much water) vs difficulty in Wales and Scotland (and because of the lack of water though not because of terrain, Brittany). FX on homogeneity of language varieites? (233‒34). Sees C6 and C7 plagues as really important—that of the 660s having major social consequences in Ireland (234). Again, useful for explaining language-shifts? Lack of commercial exchange; ‘Not surprisingly, then, these are areas of little or no urbanisation; overwhelmingly rural, in most parts there were no towns at all; Roman Caerwent almost certainly supported a monastery by the late sixth century but no urban life; Roman Exeter and Roman Carlisle probably had much reduced quasi-urban communities; Roman Carmarthen may have had nothing [235] left but dilapidated buildings’ (234‒35, no refs :-( ). Though Ireland lacks towns, it was perhaps economically on the up c. 700 unlike Wales and Cornwall it seems (235). Not much sign of immigration to Ireland, but plenty of emigration it seems. ‘No one believes nowadays that all the British (the indigenous population of Britain) were pushed westwards by the Angle and Saxon settlers, for it is perfectly clear from seventh-century and even some later texts that a British language was still being spoken in parts of midland and eastern England long after he English settlement’ (235—what ev?). Some discussion of British migration to France/Brittany, emphing the lack of ev (235‒36). Cites Koch 1997 xlii‒xliv ‘for somethoughtful comments on the process of linguistic change in the early Middle Ages’ (237 n. 14), but now I check these I see that they’re not very interesting at all—just seems to think that Norman and Roman conquests were military and brief, contrasting them with more sustained A_S enterprise. Hmm... Ireland and expansion of the Uí Néill 240‒46. Re northern Britain isn’t as sceptical as I would be (though hard to tell because of lack of citations), and seems to take Koch very seriously (must read that...): 246‒ used HB ch. 63 to date the fall of a British king in southern Yorkshire to ‘about 617’. Puts fall of Edinburgh to the English at 638, no ref.

Davis, Graeme, Comparative Syntax of Old English and Old Icelandic: Linguistic, Literary and Historical Implications (Lang 2006) http://books.google.co.uk/books?hl=en&lr=&id=TSSVGiHRBQcC&oi. Interesting if questionable list of medieval statements that Gmc languages are one tongue (with ref); interesting idea that the Vercelli Book is in Vercelli because Lombards are reading it; mis-spellings of Old Icelandic, dearth of references. Clearly worth reading properly sometime.

Declercq, Georges, `Comment on "How Science Survived: Medieval Manuscripts' `Demography' and Classic Texts' Extinction" ', Science, 310 (December 2005), 1618, DOI: 10.1126/science.1117462

Decter, Jonathan P., Iberian Jewish Literature: Between al-Andalus and Christian Europe (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 2007)

Deegan, Marilyn, ‘A Critical Edition of MS. B.L. Royal 12. D. XVII: Bald’s Leechbook, 2 vols (unpubl. Ph.D. dissertation, Manchester Univ., 1988), forthcoming for EETS. NB need Deegan’s permission to repeat information from this. vii description of MS. viii-x detailed contents. x-xi re script date provencance, xi-xii re lang (studied in 1908 it turns out). xii-xiv re hist of MS (nowt really for AS). xviii-xxxiii re latin sources. dead good survey but I didn’t get the vibe of much new exciting stuff etc. xxxiii-xxxvi(a) (sic!) re OE sources. Meany 1984 major here and Deegan’s contribution is mainly to summarise, and print next to OE text. Commentary in vol. 2, relevant texts printed. Glossary not much use. Most of the elf stuff after the Bald bit anyway. Nowt new re sources etc. that I could see. Claims that ‘Part of the reappraisal offered here places Bald’s Leechbook for the first time in the tradition of scientific medicine which extends to the present day. I have attempted to diagnose the diseases dealt with in the text by consulting the appropriate medical works in use by modern diagnosticians. This has revealed a facility for clinical description on the part of the writer of Bald’s Leechbook hitherto unacknowledged by medical historians’ (abstract). Hmm, didn’t see any ev of that myself but maybe I didn’t read the commentary enough.

Deeks, Mark David, 'National Identity in Northern and Eastern European Heavy Metal' (unpublished Ph.D. thesis, University of Leeds, 2016).

DeGregario, Scott, ‘Theorizing Irony in Beowulf: The Case of Hrothgar’, Exemplaria, 11 (1999), 309–43. ‘Scholars interested in Hrothgar have tended to focus on the epithets in isolation from other modes of characterization, insisting that the honorific phrases so liberally applied to him throughout the poem should everywhere be taken at face-value’ (314); ‘The central observation which needs to be made now is that critics such as Irving and Hill appear to understand irony in terms of the antiphrastic model, by which irony is an exclusive, binary trope that legitimizes and secdoures a single, negative meaning. The stated, literal meaning—here, that Hrothgar is a good king—is erased by and replaced with an ironic, diametrically opposite meaning, namely that Hrothgar is a bad king. The scholarly conversation around Hrothgar has, interestingly, long been fixated on the question of whether the poem presents him in a positive or a negative light [many refs], revealing the same tendency to binaristic, either/or thinking which has characterized critical assumptions about irony’ (315). Re positive epithets for Hrothgar: ‘Scholars often point out that such epithets are notable for their appropriateness to narrative context, as if they were a veritable ground-zero of standard, unambiguous heroic phraseology. But in some cases, it is equally clear, the obverse is true. At certain moments he epithets seem incongruously applied to Hrothgar, submerged as they are within narrative contexts or flanked as they are by compet[317]ing voices with which the panegyric voice of the epithets is clearly at variance’ (316-17). Hrothgar as protector in name and not in deed when Grendel comes, 317-24; ‘The point, to be sure, is not just that Hrothgar appears powerless here, but that he appears powerles amidst a dense collocation of honorifics stressing his might and fame. The combination cannot but strike us as incongruous’ (320). Not to say that Hrothgar is a coward—‘If there is irony in the way these voices play off each other, it is best described not as deterining a fixed meaning, but as precipitating a friction between meanings whose coexistance is shot through with semantic openness’ (320). Likewise vixtory-famed stuff 324-27; wisdom 327-33 Notes Hroth’s tendency to hopelessness, 932-9 (‘Hrothgar admits here, for instance, that before Beowulf’s arrival his attitude was one of pure resignation, which envisaged no bot for alvaging the husa selest. He had, in short, tacitly accepted ddefeat, abandoned through his own hopelessness the very role which he, as hyrde, was obliged to fulfil. However much the epithets may ideally configure him as the guardian of his people, the Hrothgar the narrative depicts departs from such an ideal’ (324)); 1322ff. (with Bwf’s rebuke 1384-91) (327-8). ‘Despite Beowulf’s addressing the king as snotor guma, “wise man”, Hrothgar appears for the moment to have become so overwhelmed by grief that his great wisdom has been neutralized. As George Clark has pointed out, while Hrothgar’s grief is of course readily understandable in human terms, the extent of his surrender to it violated the standard of heroic behaviour’ (328 citing Clark, Beowulf, 105-6). Also H’s hanging out with Hrothwulf and Unferth (328-30). Freawaru bit 330-33. ‘To be sure, there is nothing inherently foolish in Hrothgar’s attempt to bring about peace through the alliance. On the contrary, his intentions are fully noble, meant to further the welfare of his people. But the idealizing voice of the epithets thus tells only half the story’ (333). 334- re historiog of mechanical readings of epithets and vs the idea that oral literature, or lierary literature, can’t (afford to) be ironic. ‘A dialogic concept of irony provides a way of talking about plural meaning, a way of seeing the gap in the poem between panegyric language and narrative action—a gap which develops on the poem’s onw terms—as open-ended and complex, as meaning not one thing, but many simultaneously. As others have convincingly shown, open-endedness indeed characterizes all of [343] Beowulf; the restriction of my scope largely to the panegyric voice of the Hrothgar epithets is in no way intended to counter this claim, but only to theorize one particularly cogent localization of this open-endedness where none was though to exist before’ (342-43).

Delgado, José Martínez, 'Dunash ben Labraṭ ha-Levi', in ''Encyclopedia of Jews in the Islamic World'', ed. by Norman A. Stillman and others (Leiden: Brill, 2010), s.v.

Demarin, John Peter, A treatise upon the trade from Great-Britain to Africa: humbly recommended to the attention of government ([n.p.]: Baldwin, 1772). http://books.google.co.uk/books?id=i8ANAAAAQAAJ. Basically a pro-slavery tract. Stuff re Anglo-Saxons and Normans seems to be based on a letter (quoted in an appendix) by, if I remember rightly, someone called Mercator. 'Jesus Christ, the saviour of mankind and founder of our religion, left the moral laws and civil rights of mankind on their old foundations: his kingdom was not of this world, nor did her interfere with national laws: he did not repeal that of slaves, nor assert an universal freedom, exceptfrom sin: with him bond or free were accepted, if they behaved rightously. In the year of Christ 692, the laws of slaves were settled on the foundation of the holy scriptures by Ina, king of the West Saxons, from which people's rights we now claim, and enjoy several privileges, as Gavelkind in Kent, &c. confirmed by William the Conqueror. Mahomet, the false prophet, and establisher of as false a religion, was the first who enfranchised slaves with a political view of drawing them over to his party. From the earliest accounts of our own country, there were slaves here; from the time of the Druids, who, according to the customs of the ancient Gauls, sometimes sacrificed them to their God Woden, to the landing of the Romans, who are said to have worn out the [See Cambden's Britannia, and Brown's posthumous works.] hands and bodies of the Britons, with clearing the woods and ambanking the marshes: then again under the [10] Saxon feudal tenures, which were of the severest kind, to the time of William the Conqueror, who introduced the Normal feudal system, which was of a milder nature...'

*Dendle, Peter, ‘The Demonological Landscape of the “Solomon and Saturn” Cycle’, English Studies, 80 (1999), 281–92.

Dendle, Peter, Satan Unbound: The Devil in Old English Narrative Literature (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2001). ‘Any conceptualization of “the demonic”, of course, continually overlaps with other representations of evil (such as the demonization of non-Christian cultures, and of non-human or partly human monsters such as whales or Grendel)’ (4).

*Dendle, Peter "Lupines, Manganese, and Devil-Sickness: An Anglo-Saxon Medical Response to Epilepsy"Bulletin of the History of Medicine - Volume 75, Number 1, Spring hummer,2001, pp. 91-101 The Johns Hopkins University Press

Abstract

The most frequently prescribed herb for "devil-sickness" in the vernacular medical books from Anglo-Saxon England, the lupine, is exceptionally high in manganese. Since manganese depletion has been linked with recurring seizures in both clinical and experimental studies, it is possible that lupine administration responded to the particular pathophysiology of epilepsy. Lupine is not prescribed for seizures in classical Mediterranean medical sources, implying that the Northern European peoples (if not the Anglo-Saxons themselves) discovered whatever anticonvulsive properties the herb may exhibit.

ONLINE but I couldn’t access it the day I found it.

Dendle, Peter, ‘Textual Transmission of the Old English “Loss of Cattle” Charm’, JEGP, 105.4 (2006), 514–39. Cool article, though I’m not sure what it really adds up to, comparing the various MSS of this text.. Probably useful on some details like textual/oral variants.

*Ders (?),

de Vriend, Hubert Jan (ed.), The Old English Herbarium and Medicina de Quadrupedibus, The Early English Text Society, 286 (London: Oxford University Press, 1984). Doesn’t offer any date for Lacnunga hand, but the Herbarium stuff thought to be tenth or eleventh century with little firther clue, except that language ‘is typical of the period of Ælfric. A date earlier than c.975 is therefore highly improbable’ (ssvi). Medicina de quadrupedis X §17 (p. 266) ‘Dweorg onweg to donne, hwites hundes þost…’ etc. Latin text: ‘Ad verrucas tollendas stercus canis albi tunsum cum farina, turtulam factam ante hora accessionis dato aegro, manducet et sanatur; si autem nocte ad eum accedunt, simili ratione dato ante accessionem, vehemens fit accessio, deinde minuitur et recedet’ (267). Dweorg as verruca correlates very nicely with wenne wenne wenchichene etc. Can’t find correlates to Cameron’s refs p. 152 tho’. And 337, note the X§17 is ‘In the Latin version of this cure, which is only found in L, the title is clealy that of a different recipe. The OE version ws either taken from an exemplar which has the correct title, or it was provided with the correct title by the translator’ (337). Great. Re lang. of Harley 585 (H) lxviii–lxxiv (sounds and spellings lxviii–lxx; accidence lxx–lxxii). Alas, covers not weak gen pl and a bit vague otherwise. Wið færstice seems not impossibly modernised.

***[RQD]de Vries, Jan, ‘Van Alven en Elven’, Nederlandsche Tijdschrift voor Volkskunde 36 (1931), pp. 3-30. Re this: ‘Some scholars have assumed that, because of the shared features, there is identity between the family of elves and the souls of the departed, among them Jan de Vries who supports his view by pointing to the alf who is still present in a similar aspect in Dutch folk belief’ (Motz: 100) [not in glas comp. cat.]

De Vries, Jan, ‘Über Sigvats Álfablótstrophen’, Acta Philologica Scandinavica 7 (1932–3), 169–180. [mod lang per AC0800 but Gla goes not this early gah]

De Vries, Jan, Altgermanische Religionsgeschichte, Grundriss der germanischen Philologie, 12, 2nd edn, 2 vols (Berlin: de Gruyter, 1956–57). Glasgow has this 1st ed; refs seem not to tie up from altnord dict. Check 2nd ed. 1.296-8 re alpenschuss etc. I 319–33 app. re seeresses etc.

2nd ed: Re place-names ‘Er läßt sich schon unmittelbar mit dem skandinavischen Frøisaaker oder Frøsaker vergleichen; der Gott der Fruktbarkeit wurde auf einem ihm geweihten Acker vererht’ (II. 168, §450).

De Vries, Jan, Altnordisches etymologisches Wörterbuch, 2nd rev. edn (Leiden: Brill, 1962). s.v. seið: ‘f.n. “zauber”. – vgl. ae. ælfsiden f. “elfenzauber, fieber [fever]” (Falk ANF 41, 1925, 136). – vgl. seizla und síða 2. Man stellt [places] auch dazu wgerm. Saitchamiae, BN. von matronae, das als “die zauberhemmenden” gedeutet wird. Die seið wäre also eine allgemein-germanische zauber-praktik, wenn auch offenbar [obvious] ein schadenzauber damit gemeint ist (die deutung von saitchamiae ist aber nur eine unsichere vermutung). W. Wüst, Ural-altaisches Jahrbuch 26, 1955, 135–138, führt zum vergleich finn. soida “klingen, lauten”, soittaa “auf einem instrument spielen, läuten”, wog. sui, soi, sī “stimme, klang; ruhm”, ostj. sei[syllabic marker under I] laut, stimme’, ung. zaj ‘geräusch, lärm’ an und vermutet ‘erb- oder lehnverwandtschaft’; in diesem fall wäre das wort aus dem finn.-ugr. in das ig. gewandert. Denn hierzu gehören weiter [wider] lit. saitas ‘zuberei’, saitu, saisti ‘zeichen deuten [interpret a sign]’, kymr. hud [468] (<*soito) ‘magie’ (s. Osthoff BB 21,1899, 158), degegen nicht ai. sāman, gr. ο̉ίμη ‘gesang’. – Etymologie: 1. zu seiðr 3 [‘band, gürtel’], also eig. ‘band, fessel’ (s. Bezzenberger BB 27, 1902, 150; Strömbäck, Sejd 1935, 120); auch sonstt berühen sich die begriffe ‘band, knoten’ und ‘zauberei’, vgl. lat. fascinum ‘böser zauberei’ zu fascia ‘band’, ai. yukti ‘binden’ und ‘magisches mittel’ (s. Eliade, Rev. Hist. d. Rel. 134, 1948, 26), und besonders Odins herfjọturr oder Varuņas[underring] stricke. – 2. Wood MLN 18, 1903, 14 zu ahd sitōn ‘auführen’ [?anführen: lead] (vgl. síða), unter hinweis auf ai. sīdhyati ‘hat erfolg’, siddha- ‘volkommen, wunderkräftig’ und siddham ‘zauberkraft’. – 3. J. Trier, Lehm 1951, 41 verbindet das wort zwar auch mit seiðr 3, abert erklärt die. bed. ‘zauber’ nicht aus ‘fessel, strick’, sondern ays ‘magischer kreis’ (also ein ‘zaunwort’), vgl. dazu noch siðr. – Diese erklärung durch die identitat von seið und seiðr 3 wird hinfällig, falls man von einem finn. ugr. worte ausgehen müsste; deshalb wohl eher an eine uralte sprachgemeinschaft zu denken’. Seiðr 1 ‘m., vgl. seið’. Doesn’t have síði. S.v. síða 2. ‘st. V. ‘zauberei üben’, vgl. run. dä siþi (3 PSg. Präs Konj., Skærn 2, c. 1000, Krause Nr. 81; vgl. aber Jacobsen-Moltke Sp. 712). – vgl. seiðr 1.

*De Vries, Jan, ‘Wodan und die Wilde Jagd’, Nachbarn: Jahrbuch für vergleichende Volkskunde (1963), pp. 31-59.

De Vries, Jan, Nederlands Etymologisch Woordenboek (Leiden, 1971). sv. elf ‘De etymologie is niet geheel zeker. Het meest aannemelijk is een afleiding uit de idg. wt. *albh ‘glanzen, wit zijn’ (*Wadstein, Fschr Bugge 1892, 152 vlgg) en dan komt men tot een betekenis “witte nevelgestalte”, vgl. de geografische names Albion en Alpes en verder ohd. alba “insectenlarve” naast nnoorrw. alma ‘engerlingen’. Maar de reeds door A. Kuhn, KZ 4, 1855, 110 voorgestelde verninding ,et oi. rbhu [dot under r] ‘kunstvaardig, kunstenaar, naam van drie mythologische wezens” wordt tegenwoordig toch weer verdedigd’. Check pok too.

DeGregario, Scott, ‘Theorizing Irony in Beowulf: The Case of Hrothgar’, Exemplaria, 11 (1999), 309–43.

**Derolez, René, Les Dieux et la Religion des Germains, trans. by F. Cunen (Paris, 1962). ‘Derolez suggests a Celtic source for elves, 1962, p. 226, but without presenting any clear evidence’ (Griffiths 1996, 47, n. 6)

*Derolez, René, ‘La Divination chez les germains’, in La Divination, ed by Andre Caquot and Marcel Leibovici (Paris, 1968), pp. 257–302.

Derolez, René, ‘Good and Bad Old English’, in The History and the Dialects of English: Festschrift for Eduard Kolb, ed. by Andreas Fischer, Anglistische Forschungen, 203 (Heidelberg, 1989), pp. 91–102.

Derolez, R., ‘Anglo-Saxon Glossography: A Brief Introduction’, in Anglo-Saxon Glossography: Papers Read at the International Conference Held in the Koninklijke Academie voor Wetenschappen Letteren en Schone Kunsten van België, Brussels, 8 and 9 Sepetember 1986, ed. by R. Derolez (Brussels: Koninklijke Academie voor Wetenschappen, Letteren en Schone Kunsten, 1992), pp. 9-42. Mainly an ‘oh god, what a lot of problems’ article. ‘The glossae collectae clearly represent an intermediate stage between scattered interlinear glosses and alphabetical glossaries. They were useful in the first place in conjunction with the text which they were originally meant to elucidate as interlinear glosses, a typical example being the third Cleopatra glossary. They could obviously be used for the interlinear glossing of fresh copies of the same text, but they also provided handy material for compilers of alphabetical glossaries. Thus a large proportion of the Aldhelm [24] glossae collectae in the third Cleopatra glossary are also found scattered over the first, alphabetical glossary’ (23-24). 26 top e.g.s of glosses deriving directly (orally) from Hadrian. Nbs that Aldhelm much glosses in vernacular, unlike Bede or Prudentius, e.g. (29). Aldhelm hard, she reckons.

Derolez, René, ‘Language Problems in Anglo-Saxon England: barbara loquella and barbarismus’, in Words, Texts and Manuscripts: Studies in Anglo-Saxon Culture Presented to Helmut Gneuss on the Occasion of his Sixty-Fifth Birthday, ed. by Michael Korhammer (Cambridge, 1992), pp. 285–92.

*Devlin, Judith, The Superstitious Mind: French Peasants and the Supernatural in the Nineteenth Century (London, 1987) [SW5 198.c.98.131; Anthrop K100.F8 DEEV] 1-42 on how little elite theology influenced popular thought in C19.

*Dexter, Miriam R., ‘Indo-European Reflections on Virginity and Autonomy’, Mankind Quarterly, 26 (1985), 57–74.

Dhū al-Rumma: https://books.google.co.uk/books?id=eT6RDQAAQBAJ (1998, ذو الرمة, ديوان ذي الرمة (دار الارقم بن ابي الارقم - بيروت / لبنان‎.

Asterisk note to Riddle-poem: وتسقي هذه القصؤدة, كما جاء في خزانة الأدب (52/4), أحجية العرب, لما ورد فيها من الألفاظ التي تباينت دلالاتها فاعتبرت من باب الأحجيات والألغاز Part of note to line 1: ١ مشرف وحزوى: موضعان - اللوى

Dibben N (2009) Nature and Nation: National Identity and Environmentalism in Icelandic Popular Music Video and Music Documentary. Ethnomusicology Forum, 1(18), 131-151.

Dibben, Nicola: Biophilia live / [concept, production and creative lead by Björk ; essays by Nikki Dibben ; edited by James Merry]. [S.l.] : Wellhart Ltd., 2011.Nánar HÍ Stakkahlíð Bókasafn link 30 dagar Í hillu Almenn rit 782.4 Bjö

Dibben, Nicola, Björk (Sheffield: Equinox, 2009). 2 emphasises that most commentary on Björk interprets work through her biography or nationality rather than being musicological. 6--7 mentions song on first album 'Arabadrengurinn'. Hmm, look out for this. 9--10 useful sketch of how Icelandic punk differed from English around 1980. 25-- good discussion of how nationalism creates 'the idea of a "natural" relationship between the land of the nation-state and the people that inhabit it' (26), taking in poetry and painting. 27 takes in the rural vs urban conflict. 'There are specific historical reasons why technological advancement is an important aspect of contemporary Icelandic identity. During Danish rule a trading monopoly prevented Iceland from developing its own fishing economy, and a farming elite developed on Iceland which served Denmark's economic purposes. When this system outlived its usefulness, farming became reconstructed by Icelanders as "backward" and fihsing became Iceland's primary economic focus, even though this backwardness was a product of Iceland's [28] previous position as a tributary to Denmark rather than an objective truth (Durrenberger 1996). Thus, although the image of the nation as land remains an important facet of Icelandic nationalism, it carries with it retrograde connotations at odds with the modernizing agenda of the industrialized nation Iceland has become. There is therefore a tension within contemporary Icelandic identity between technology, modernity and the urban on the one hand, and nature, tradition and the rural on the other' (27--28). 'Racially essentialist criteria for Icelandic identity in the twenty-first century are facilitated by the establishment in 1996 of an Icelandic medical database by the deCode genomics company, the discourse surrounding which encourages Icelanders to think of themselves as a unique genetic community' (28). 'Icelanders' articulation of pride in their national identity, and perception of Iceland by foreign media and audiences as an exotic periphery to Europe and North America, are shaped by one another. Looked at in these terms, Björk's sometimes whimsical and hyperbolic self-presentation in interviews can be understood as an articulation of nationalist sentiment to an audience largely ignorant of Iceland' (30). Björk as elf in foreign media coverage: 31--32. 'Perhaps, then, Björk's Icelandic origin is significant only to the extent that it supplies a lexicon of headline-friendly metaphors and a frameowkr within which experience of her music is enriched by associations with ideas of the North. It tells us about imaginations of the North and of Iceland. Yet ... nationalist sentiment is an explicit part of Björk's consciousness and has shaped her output' (33). 34--35 keenness on traditional mythology etc as being part of punk; early collaborations with people connected to the Ásatrúarfélag; interesting. Re claims of Viking musicological influences on Björk: 'the phrasing and metrical structures of Björk's music have more in common with contemporary rock and pop than with skaldic or eddaic poetry', with the closest thing to an exception being her performances of the folk-song Vísur Vatnsenda-Rósu (35). Tvísöngur and Lydian mode as the main distinctive features of the Icelandic musical tradition (36); these do put in an appearance in Björk's music (36--37). Use of organ, cfing Apparat Organ Quarter (37). 'In interviews about Medúlla Björk used the notion of paganism to articulate a utopian idea of a world in which humans are not divided by religion or nationality. The fact that paganism is used as the symbol of a world prior to the existence of nation-states paradoxically reveals the influence of nationalist enculturation: in the context of Icelandic nationalism, paganism is part of the idealized settlement and Commonwealth period prior to the advent of Christian belief and foreign rule' (40): a useful and insightful point. Björk as learning to recognise her Icelandicness through living in London and situating herself within a multinational/cultural context (41--42). 'Björk's questioning of her identity within a British, multicultural context reflects a more widespread issue raised by cosmopolitanism: namely, tensions between globalization ... an the idea of national identity ... Björk responded to this situation by attempting to create an Icelandic musical identity she could be proud of---a response which indicates the extent to which she was influenced by nationalism during her upbringing in Iceland' (42). Close reading of Jóga video (41--49) as pre-eminent example of nationalism in songs/videos, with Björk as Icelandic landscape etc. 43-49. Mentions 'declare indpendence' too. 50 quotes a Hallgrímur Helgason interview on how Björk gave his generation a sense of self-importance and grooviness. On the other hand, other people find her exoticisation of Iceland annoying (51). 56--58 moderately useful overview of 'Icelandic nature in contemporary Icelandic consciousness'; 57--58 touch on dam-building. Prominence of the sea and ships in Björk's music/discourse around it: 63--66. 'A second symbolism of the sea in Björk's artistic output is its signification of Icelandic belonging and freedom, through its association with boats and travel. The idea that the sea represents both belonging and freedom may seem contradictory, but within imaginings of Icelandic history the sea is simultaneously the boundary that defines the Icelandic nation and keeps it distinct from other nations; it represents the Viking ancestry of Icelanders [65] through Nordic Viking migration, and is the means through which Icelandic people overcame their island isolationism [sic!] by travelling to Europe and North America. Ships may well have taken on extra importance with the recording and release of Debut, when Björk had left Iceland to pursue her solo career in England' (64--65). 'These examples illustrate two main points. First, the kinds of animals and landscapes that appear in Björk's artistic output are associated with arctic environments of the North, and in the case of references to the physical world, manifest an Icelandic rural landscape ideology. Second, the natural world is personified by Björk through the visual material which accompanies her music' (68); which also helps to position Björk as having 'artistry unsullied by commerce' (69). 'Björk's representation of nature is particularly significant in two ways. First, many of the representations of nature in Björk's output feature Iceland's "wild" landscape, which the tourist version of Iceland promotes as providing a powerful experience of wilderness and natural beauty. By emphasizing the beauty of Iceland's highland "heartland", Björk maintained the dark protectionist [as opposed to 'green' pro-reforestation protectionist] version of Icelandic nature at a time when it was contested. Furthermore, through her participation in events aimed at influencing environmental politics in Iceland, she contributed to a discourse emphasizing Iceland's international duty to protect its land. This discourse is particularly powerful because it enabled Iceland's environmental difficulties (its barren landscape) and late modernization to be re-imagined as strengths that could make an important contribution to Europe and the world, thereby enhancing Icelandic pride. However, by equating the highland wilderness with Icelandic national identity Björk potentially contributed to a situation in which threats to Icelandic nature could be interpreted as threats to the Icelandic nation. // Second, Björk's artistic output expresses an idea of the natural world that is continuous with the human, and redolent of animist thinking [this book seems to view ON paganism as 'animist' in quite extreme and unevidenced ways], partly through the thematic content of her work, and partly through her personification of nature. In addition to the connection to Icelandic tradition and mythology this represents, this idea of continuity challenges the view of nature as a "resource" to be exploited for commercial gain. Advocates for the development of Iceland's natural resources conceptualize the environment as a resource that can be parcelled up and privatized, and in which inhabitants are separate from nature. This modernist worldview and the associated environmental debates, such as those surrounding the hydroelectric development of Iceland's wilderness areas, are characterized by a radical separation of society and nature. ... By making manifest the continuity between humans and the natural world, by unifying them in her artistic output, Björk articulates a different perspective on this separation---albeit one which reaffirms nationalist constructions of Icelandic identity' (70). 'Statements by Björk regarding the modernity of her homeland, and those of other Icelandic musicians who have gained international recognition, can be seen as a direct response to portrayals of Icelanders by foreign media as [97] superstitious and (by implication) technologically backward. Thus, Homogenic was an attempt to "be truthful about Iceland" in a way which reflected her experience of being "born with raw nature everywhere, but still brought up with computers and technology" and did not consist of caricatured signifiers such as "Viking helmets" (Björk cited in McDonnell 1997). From the perspective of post-colonial Icelandic consciousness there is a balancing act to be achieved as nationalist discourse looks both back to an imagined Golden Age of the Commonwealth era represented in the Sagas [sic], and forward to a future "shaped by Enlightenment values of reason and progress through human efforts to dominate nature" (Brydon 2006: 235--36) ... By presenting technological modernization as an extension of Iceland's mythological past, the technological and modern are reconciled with the natural and traditional' (96--97). Björk also feminises the technological (97--98). 'The subject matter of Björk's artistic output from the 1990s is overwhelmingly concerned with the relationship between nature and technology ... In Chapters 2 through 4 I argued that this unification resolved a tension in the cultural consciousness of industrialized nations of the twentieth and twenty-first centuries. More specifically, it addressed a conflict within contemporary Icelandic consciousness between [157]the historical foundations of Iceland's claim to independence---its trinity of land, language and literature---and its situation at the end of the twentieth and beginning of the twenty-first century as an independent nation-state with an urban, and increasingly industrial economy, trying to position itself on an equal basis with other nations in a globalized world. The unification of nature and technology expressed in Björk's work articulates a fusion between the related concepts of the rural and urban, traditional and modern, showing that these apparent opposites are compatible. Although this issue has relevance for all industrialized nations, it has a specifically Icelandic pertinence. Its origin in Björk's artistic output can be attributed to her musical and intellectual development in the 1980s, during which Iceland's alternative popular music scene became identified with the search for a new and affirming sense of Icelandic identity. Furthermore, it has particular salience amid debates in contemporary environmental politics in which Iceland's industrialization is seen as a threat to an important component of national identity---the natural landscape' (156--57). 'Björk's explicit aim to create "innovative" music for "the everyday person" is one of her music's most interesting attributes, because musical experimentation is at odds with much of the music that receives mainstream exposure and economic success' (160). Political engagement 162--67 (cf. 167--72), emphasising role in Smekkleysa, refusal to fit with jeans-t-shirt-coke norms, challenging of pop industry norms, participatory music-making and music releases, role as a creative woman. 'Within this larger context, the emphasis Björk placed on her artistic control and ability to take artistic risks constituted a display of national independence; she expressed her experimental approach through metaphors drawn from Icelandic tropes of ships and of Vikings "waving a pirate flag" (Gunnarsson 2004), and attributed her independent attitude to her Viking heritage (Rüth 1997), thereby explicitly aligning a mythologized Icelandic identity with her self-perceived artistic innovation' (163). 'Nevertheless, critical reception of Björk in the press has been marked by many of the diversionary treatments often allotted to female artists. Hence, [165] the music press tended to focus on her motherhood and sexual relationships, particularly in her early career, with headlines such as 'Björk---Success and the solo mother' (Harding 1995), 'Freaky momma' (Tility 1996), and 'Love bites Bjork and Goldie' (Marcus 1996). Similarly, representations of her the media as child-woman, elf, alien, eccentric and vocalist, rather than composer or producer, arguably diminish her status as an artist (164--65, cf. 179, 185).

Dickins, Bruce, ‘English Names and Old English Heathenism’, Essays and Studies by Members of the English Association, 19 (1933), 148–60. 151ff. re personal names. Which I obviously skipped the first time… ‘This essay, which is from the nature of the case rather a summary of results than an exhaustive survey of the subject…’ (148 n.1). ‘… the word [dweorg] is associated with denu in Dwarriden, WR. Yorks (1335 Dweryden); cf. also Dwerryhouse in Eccleston, Lancs.’ (156). ‘Alden in Bury, Lancs. (1296 Alvedene), is perhaps, as Ekwall suggests, from *ælfa denu’ (156). ‘Scucca, or scucc-, is associated with be(o)rh, hl¸w, h(e)alh, and þorn, as in Shuckburgh, Warw. (DB. Socheberge), cf. also Shugborough in Colwich, Staffs.; Shucklow Warren (now Warren Farm) in Horwood, Bucks. (BCS. 264 of 792 Scuccanhlau); Scoughall, East Lothian (1094 Scuchale); Shuckton Manor, Derbyshire, where the second element was originally þorn. // The associated word in OE. scìn, or scinn(a) (cf. OHG. giscin), is used to render Latin portentum, fantasma, prestigium, and demonium… Compounded with OE. clif the genitive plural perhaps occurs in Shincliffe, co. Durham (c. 1125 Scinneclif)’ (157). ‘In place-nams it [ent] is associated with dìc and hl¸w, as in to ænta díc (KCD. 743 of 1026 dealing with Worthy, Hants). In on enta hlew (BCS. 763 of 940 dealing with Polhampton in Overton, Hants) we have the gnitive singular of a weak form; cf. on enta hléwe (KCD. 752 of 1033, which deals with the same place)’ (158). ‘It is very doubtful if it [eoten] is recorded in place-names; eotan ford (BCS. 1119 of 963 dealing with Aston near Lilleshall, Salop) may contain the genitive of a personal name Èota. It is possibly the first element of Edinshall, the broch in the parish of Duns, Berwickshire, though in Armstrong’s map (1771) and in the Old Statistical Account (1792) this is called ‘Wooden’s (Woden’s or Odin’s) Hall or Castle’ (158). ‘In OE. it [þyrs] is found in composition with pytt in innon þone þyrs pyt (BCS. 537 of c. 872 dealing with Marcliff in Bidford, Warw.); cf. KCD. 289. In Lancashire place-names it is compounded with a number of words for ‘valley’, OE. denu and clòh [macron on o], as in Thursden in Whalley (1324 Thirsedeneheued) and Thurescloch in Hindley, Wigan (1267-8)’ (159).

Dickins‚ Bruce‚ ‘Yorkshire Hobs’, Transactions of the Yorshire Dialect Society 7 (1942), 9-23. [Ed. per. .42 Yor]. Whitelock 73n.: ‘The whole of this interesting and amusing paper is important for studying the lingering of the belief in the þyrs and other monsters in post-Conquest times.’ [P768.d.1] Re creatures like nisse‚ first evidenced in England in Gervase of Tilbury (Otia Imperialia 3‚ 21) as portuni in England‚ neptuni in France; ‘both names suggest they were originally conceived of as water-demons’ (9). According to Itinerary through Wales I‚ 12‚ re son of an incubus and human mother – but seems to come across as a good guy. ‘Master Rypon of Durham (quoted by Owst [g. R. Literature and the Pulpit in Medieval England‚ 1933]) mentioned ‘a certain demon’—in English Thrus—whom Bromyard (a Dominican who was Chancellor of te University of Cambridge in 1383) calls Gerard‚ who was wont to grind corn. But when some householder gave him a new tunic‚ and he put it on‚ from that time onwards he refused to grind‚ saying in english—‘Suld syche a proude grome grynd corn?’ that is to say‚ ‘No!’ Closely parallel are the lines attributed to the Swedish tomte: ‘The young spark is fine / He dusts himself! / Nevermore will he sift.’ // Bromyard again (British Museum MS Royal 7 E iv‚ f. 151v‚ printed by Wright‚ p. 107) speaks ‘de diabolo‚ qui cum pro opere suo in mola manuali a patrefamilias capam accepisset et capuciam‚ bene agere cessabat‚ dicens Anglice‚’ ‘Modo habeo capam et capuciam‚ amplius bonum non faciam.’ This corresponds almost exactly with the imperfect couplet recorded from County Durham: ‘A hamp and a hood! / Then Hobbie again ‘ll dee nae mair good’ [11] and the rhymes ascribed to the hob at Sturfit Hall‚ Reeth‚ and the Cauld Lad of Hilton (infra p. 20)’ (10-11). ‘The fullest account of the drudging Goblin’s activities is to be found in The Mad Pranks and Merry Jests of Robin Good-fellow‚ a chapbook of which the earliest surviving edition is of 1628; it was reprinted for the Percy Society in 1841’ (11). ‘Better recorded in Middle English is the name Gerard’‚ with various refs. photocopy this.

Dickinson, Tania M., ‘An Anglo-Saxon “Cunning Woman” from Bidford-on-Avon’, in In Search of Cult: Archaeological Investigations in Honour of Philip Rahtz, ed. by Martin Carver (Woodbridge: XXXX, 1993), pp. 45–54, repr. in The Archaeology of Anglo-Saxon England: Basic Readings, ed. by Catherine E. Karlov, Basic Readings in Anglo-Saxon England, 7/Garland Reference Library of the Humanities, 2086 (London: XXXX, 1999), pp. 359–73. Late C5~late C6 (45), part of cemetary. Bag, funny decoration, etc. Cf. Meaney 1981, 249–62. ‘I would content that grave HB2 at Bidford-on-Avon also represents such a “cunning woman”. Indeed, the nature of her possessions adds strength to the argument, for it does not rest solely oupon having an “amulet-bag”. In particular, the amuletic and “badge-like” bib with its bucket pendants independently suggests that this was the grave of someone with special powers. Even the unusual “scalpel-like” knife might have been designed for specific uses associated with her craft. Discussion has thus not simply added another example to those advanced by Meaney, but materially bolstered her hypothesis. There is now a strong case for burials which may represent “cunning women” to be investigated on a systematic and contextual, rathre than anecdotal, basis, and for themes aluded to here, notably the connection between women and drinking rituals, to be explored more fully’ (53). Among objects from/with a bag by the left hip is an antler cone, unparalleled, perforated at wide end. ‘Could the Bidford cone symbolise a drinking horn, an object-type which is otherwise apparently not represented among the stock of Anglo-Saxon amulets? And if so, does it reinforce the possible drinking symbolism of the miniature buckets and disc pendant? Or does it simply provide, through its material, a prophylactic or allusion to fertility or immortality’ (52).Has one penannular and one small-long brooch; ‘Such penannulars, now known as Type G1, and the charactertistic metal-type of early post-Roman (late 4th to 6th centuries) western Britain’ (45). Hmm, wonder if there’s any ethnic marking going on here? But others seem exemplified in A-S burials.

Dickinson, Tania M., ‘What’s New in Early Medieval Burial Archaeology?’, Early Medieval Europe, 11 (2002), 71–87. ‘The other major theme to emerge from recent burial studies is not yet so fully articulated, bu it is of growing importance. It concerns the way that social and ideological messages are constructed through the placement of burials, in a building or in the landscape. Indeed, as Spain illustrates, in the Christianised lands of the western Mediterranean, [86] and further north, where grave goods were not much used, this may have been the key consideration. Where a burial was—in relation to strategic points of liturgical space, to a “founder” grave, to thresholds and routeways, and to settlements of the living—could emit multiple and ambiguous messages about relative privilege/superiority versus (in principle for Christians) humility, and about commemoration of the lives of the dead versus contemplation of the significance of death to the living. As Galinié illustrates with reference to Tours, it is this which marks the transition from a Romanized townscape, where the tradition of separating the dead from the living is maintained, to the intermixed character typical of medieval towns and many villages’ (85–86).

Dictionary of Old English

s.v. ādl, ādle ‘Ancient and medieval names of diseases are often not relatable to symptoms or considitions as described or diagnosed in modern medicine; see particularly sense 2. // 1. ailment, disease, illness, sickness’; ‘2. referring to specific diseases and ailments’ 2 ‘figurative, of heresy and sin’; ‘4. in anomalous glosses’

s.v. ælf, ylfe (pl.) [Gah!] ‘Att. sp.: ælf || ælfe, ælue || ylfe (nom. pl.) || ylfa. With Lat. inflection: aelfae // Spellings in æ, in one ms (Royal 12.D.xvii) dated s.x med. and presumed to have been written at Winchester, were perhaps either influenced by WS personal names or borrowed from Anglian; expected lWS form is *ylf.’ Defines as ‘elf’. ‘2.b. as a place-name element, e.g. Ælfestun, Beorælfestun’, hmm…

s.v. ælf-ādl ‘elf-disease (of uncertain nature)’

s.v. ælf-cynn ‘race of elves, referring to their supposed agency in bringing about some affliction; or perhaps referring to the affliction itself’

s.v. ælfen just states what it glosses. But at end ‘med elve(n, oed2 elves; cf. pne elfen [adj.] s.v. elf’.

s.v. ælfig, ylfig ‘afflicted in mind, maf, frantic; used as substantive, glossing Latin’. Cfs OED2 giddy a.

s.v. ælfisc ‘Att. sp.: eluesce // 1 occ. // elvish; having the qualities thought to pertain to elves; seo ælfisce wiht ‘the elvish creature’ glossing conops ‘gnat’ (cf. EDD elvish) // OccGl 104 1: alucinare dicitur uana somniare, tractum ab alucitis quos cenopos dicimus, sicut Petronius Arbiter … inquid <me alucite> molestabant. hos Galli eluesce wehte vocant (from fulg. Serm.antiq.52; cf, HlGl C1978 conopes .i. alucinaria. uana somniaria.’ NB actually HlGl C1979—dunno if this mistake is you or dictionary. Ah, so presumably a gloss like this with vernacular addition gets into OHG circulation. NB that it emphasises that eluesce wehte are NOT gnats!!

s.v. ælf-scy[macr]ne ‘radiant or fair as an elf; beautiful; has also been understood as ‘delusive as an elf’ (taking scyne as ‘flickering’) or ‘divinely inspired’ (cf. ælfig sense b)’.

s.v. ælf-siden (NB no macr or macr.+breve! hrrmph). ‘influence or enchantment of elves, referring to an affliction of uncertain identity thought to be caused by supernatural agency and attended by fever’. Hapless.

s.v. ælf-sogeþa ‘disease thought to have been caused by supernatural agency, perhaps anaemia’. Presumably the anaemia bit is from B-T or that other dude? Check.

s.v. ælf-þone ‘a plant, probably woody nightshade, bittersweet; used to treat ailments thought to have been caused by supernatural agency, especially skin disease and mental illness (cf. ælfādl)’ ‘Cf. med elf-thung’.

s.v. bæddel[breve and macron on æ]: ‘hermaphrodite’, 2 occurrences, both glosses AntGl 2 and 4. See also bædan, cf. bædling; ?cf. MED badde adj., OED2 bad a.

s.v. bædan[macr, breve] ‘to defile (something)’ in C12 gloss on psalm, glossing coinquare, unless a mistake bædan ‘mistkaing the lemma for a form of coinquere ‘to coerce’.’

s.v. bædling[macr, breve] ?effeminate man ?homosexual. Conf 5 137 following penance for adultery ‘gyf bædling mid bædlinge hæme’ + cl. gl 1 C405, HlGl.

s.v. blæd lots of citations; 1 blowing 1a puff of wind etc.; 1b. breath, breathing; 1c. ‘in various glosses referring to the Holy Spirit’; 2 fire, flame, only a couple of cits; 3 glory, propserity (mainly in poetry).

s.v. geblædan[macr æ] ‘to inflate, puff up (cf. blæ[macr]d sense 1); or, alternatively, take as error for gebrædan[macr æ]’ only two cits; no sign of 9 herbs charm here.

s.v. burh-rūne, burh-rūnan ‘glossing Parcae ‘the Fates’, Furiae ‘the Furies’ // The gloss depends on a derivation of Parcae from parcere ‘to spare’ by antiphrasis (cf. isid. Etym. 1.37.24 Parcas et Eumenides, Furiae quod nulli parcant vel benefaciant). The first element of the gloss was probably originally from beorgan (q.v., sense 2 ‘to spare’), but was perhaps reformed by folk-etymological association with burh ‘enclosure’ (cf. the derivation of hægtesse ‘witch’ from *hæg ‘fence, enclosure’; cf. haga).’ Apart from obvious citations (incl. ep-erf-corp, check in facs), there’s a sixth, ‘OccGl 68.1 2: parcas burgrunan (from frith. Brev.vit.Wilf. 376 Eumenides, Furias uocitat sub murmere, Parcas). But why not cf. beorgan ‘1. to protect, defend, preserve, save’? Hel(h)run(e), Hellerune, Helrynegu salutary here—doesn’t half look like it should be a partial calque on necromantia, but of course it must go back to Germanic (cf. Jordanes), and meanings are wider. NB Page on runes and magic, 113 in repr. n. 44 re burgrune ‘Professor Whitelock suggests ingeniously, “When applied to the parcae, is it possible that by false etymology they connected this with “to spare”? This is one of the meanings of OE beorgan. But not as far as I know of burg, which never seems to have an abstract meaning’. Check Carr on verb+noun for DOE reading XXXX.

Also do: deofol (ch. 4); blæd; cynn; wæter-ælfen, wudu-ælfen etc.

Dictionary of Medieval Latin from British Sources (London: Oxford University Press, 1975–2013)

Dictionary of Old Norse Prose/Ordbog over det norrøne prosasprog. 1983– (Copenhagen: [Arnamagnæan Commission/Arnamagnæanske kommission])

Diesenberger, Maximilliam, ‘Hair, Sacrality and Symbolic Capital in the Frankish Kingdoms’, in The Construction of Communities in thr Early Middle Ages: Texts, Resources and Artefacts, ed. by Richard Corradini, Max Diesenberger and Helmut Reimitz, The Transformation of the Roman World, 12 (Leiden: Brill, 2003), pp. 173–212. Vs. sacral kingship, magic etc. Pro multiple readings of symbols etc., sees a Roman context for hair symbolism etc. incl. a thing about symbolism of shaving a vassal and things cf. Culhwch. Goodo.

*Dietrich, Sheila, ‘An Introduction to Women in Anglo-Saxon Society’, in The Women of England, ed. by Barbara Kanner (Hamden, Conn, 1979), pp. 32–56. Sees decline in status as a result of Xianisation. As does Fell.

(CUL!)**Dillman, F., ‘Seiður og shamanismi í Íslendingasögum’, Skáldskaparmál, 2 (1992), 20-33. [NW4 P752:1.c.27]

Dillmann, François-Xavier, ‘Kring de rituella gästabuden i fornskandinavisk religion’, in Uppsala och Adam av Bremen, ed. by Anders Hultgård (Nora: Nya Doxa, 1997), pp. 51–73. Gästabuden: ‘feast’. Discusses saga-evidence for sacrificial feasts, and Snorri’s evidence (51–62); temples? (63–64); discusses Adam 65–67 focusing on the sematics and significance of triclinio. Also emphasises lybatur (libare) in sense ‘utgjuta dryckesoffer till en gudom’ (66). ‘Mot bak grund av detta öppnar sig nya perspektiv för religionshistorien. Den gästabudssal i det inre av Uppsalatemplet som Adam omtalar, framträder som en direkt paralell till Snorres skildring i Hákonar saga góða av de rituella méltider som hölls i helgedomarna i Mære och Lade. De drickoffer somframbars till gudarna i Uppsala motsvarar de libationer som frambars till de skandinaviska huvudgudarna i Snorres skildring. Denna överensstämmelse är desto mer anmärkningsvärd som den visar sig ligga inom den funktionella avgränsing som de stora gudomarna har, för att följa Dumézils tolkning av den nordiska gudavärlden. De troende frambär ett drickoffer till en bestämd gudom för att få del av det som denna gudom kan skända inom sitt särskilda funktionsområde. Såväl i det norska Tröndelagen som i det svenska Uppland är det till Oden man frambär drickoffer om det gäller strid (si bellum...), för att få seger (drekka til sigs),och det är till Frej den samhälliga fredens och njutningens gudom (pacem voluptatemque largiens mortalibus) som man gav drickoffer då bröllop skulle firas (si nuptiae...) och för att få välstånd och fred (drekka til árs ok friðar). Vad gäller Tor slutligen jan man iaktta en slående överensstämmelse mellan Adams skildring av Uppsalatemplet och den som Snorre ger av Märe-templet i kapitel lxix av óláfs saga Tryggvasonar: ... potentissimus eorum ... “den mäktigaste av dem” förklarar den tyske krönikören om Tor i det han återger de förkristna svearnas uppfattning, medan den isländske historikern, uppenbarligen med stöd av gamla traditioner om evangelisationskungen, säger: [þórr] var mest tígnaðr af ö[hooked o]llum godum...”’ (67). Clearly relates to my concerns re reliability of Snorri vis a vis Adam.

Dillon, Myles, ‘On the Text of Serglige Con Culainn’, Éigse, 3 (1941–42), 120–29.

Dillon, Myles, ‘The Trinity College Text of Serglige con Culainn’, Scottish Gaelic Studies, 6 (1947–49), 139–75.

Dillion, Myles, ‘The Wasting Sickness of Cú Chulainn’, Scottish Gaelic Studies, 7 (1951), 47–88.

Dillon, Myles (ed.), Serglige Con Culainn, Mediaeval and Modern Irish Series, 14 (Dublin, 1953).

Dillon, Myles and Nora K. Chadwick, The Celtic Realms (XXXX: Wiedenfeld and Nicolson, 1967)

*Divivedi, Kedar Nath (ed.), The Therapeutic Use of Stories

Doane, A. N. (ed.), Genesis A: A New Edition (Madison, Wisconsin, 1978). [Edinburgh .8291 Gen]

Doane, A. N., The Saxon Genesis: An Edition of the West Saxon ‘Genesis B’ and the Old Saxon Vatican ‘Genesis’ (Madison: The University of Wisconsin Press, 1991)

Doane, A. N., ‘Heathen form and Christian Function in “The Wife’s Lament”’, XXXX, 77-91. ‘The later legends of King Olaf Tryggvason present the demise of the heathen gods as a direct encounter between Olaf and Thor himself. Even the lower spirits are involved in the legends of Christ’s coming:

One day shortly before the coming of Christianity Thorhall lay in his bed looking out through a window; he smiled, and his host, the powerful Sidu-Hall, one of the first men who accepted baptism, asked him what he was smiling at. Thorhall answered: ‘I am smiling to see many a mound opening up and all living beings, great or small, packing their belongings and moving elsewhere.’

(Piðranda [sic] Páttr [sic] Síðu-Hallsonar cited by P. A. Munch, Norse Mythology: The Legends of the Gods and Heroes, rev. Magnus Olsen, Trans. S. B. Hustvedt (London, 1926), 309-10.)’ (89-90 and n. 31). ‘It seems especially to have spiritual connotations, suggesting the sickening agitation of an objectless desire opposed to God’s will: the “géomor”’s [sic] that punctuate the rhythm seem almost the results of a hopeless state of longing. This certainly seems to be its use in Guthlac A: the devils came to Guthlac from their “unh¥le eardas” (351)desiring that he should again seek “monlufan” (353) but the angel [quotes 357-60 re ‘longath’] Guthlac says of himself [314-17 re ‘longethas’] and this repose, this lack of desires, is the exact contrary of the state of the devils: [quotes 218-223] // The use of “longoþ” in this context suggests that the “wife’s” torment, presented in very similar terms, might be more spiritual than bodily, and might have more in common with those devils than meets the eye’ (83-4). Or not – but it’s a cool link re the loneliness of such spots, need for monlufu. The devils effectively say ‘Wa bith tham…’; Guthlac says ‘Wel bith tham…’

Doane, A. N. (ed.), Anglo-Saxon Manuscripts in Microfiche Facsimile: Volume 1, Medieval and Renaissance Texts and Studies, 136 (Binghamton NY: Medieval & Renaissance Texts and Studies, 1994). No 298 is Bald’s Leechbook, pp. 60–64! Yay! 265, pp. 26–36 is HRL 585! Yay!

No. 283, pp. 52–59, London, British Library, Royal 2. A. xx, ‘private book of prayers and healing’ (52). ‘Ker dates the gloss hand, which is very distinctive, to early 10c; the dialect of the glosses is Mercian (zupitza 1889)’ (52). Ah ha, but aelfae is not one of these! Totally in with the text. Check **Atkinson 1981.

Re Harley 585 26–36 ‘HISTORY: Main part of the manuscript, to f. 179/10, is dated by Ker (Cat.) s. x/xi, the rest s. xi1. A small, irregular book of stiff, dirty, worn parchment, probably a medical vade mecum. The manuscript has been much annotted and repaired at various times through the centuries. Perhaps from a western area. Annotated in 17c by Barbara Crokker of Lyneham, Devon (d. 1655); later owned by Robert Burscough of Totnes … // [Note: Despite Ker’s dating of the two hands, probably no great interval separates them; the change of hands on f. 179r seems to be a continuation of the same campaign of writing, following the same exemplar. Perhaps the first scribe was an older person at the time of writing. The date of the manuscript at as whole should probably be pushed into the first decade of the 11c.]’ (26). 18.5-19cm × 11-12, but pages trimmed. 1 hand tho much varies (27) except ff. 115r–129v (Herbarium context) by another hand, then from 197r/10 a different later hand (Ker s. xi1) and another again f. 191r onwards. Annoted (esp. but not only Herbarium) trhu medieval and early modern perios.

Royal 12. D. xvii 60–64.

Doane, A. N., ‘Editing Old English Oral/Written Texts: Problems of Method (With an Illustrative Edition of Charm 4, Wið Færstice)’, in The Editing of Old English: Papers from the 1990 Manchester Conference, ed. by D. G. Scragg and Paul E. Szarmach (Cambridge: Brewer, 1994), pp. 125–45. Basically saying, woo, MSS have very different information from what we want. Emphasises non textual marks, word-spacing etc as representing vocality of text as scribe is copying etc.

Dobbie, Elliott van Kirk (ed.), The Anglo-Saxon Minor Poems, The Anglo-Saxon Poetic Records, 6 (New York: Columbia University Press, 1942)

Dobbie, Elliott van Kirk (ed.), Beowulf and Judith, Anglo-Saxon Poetic Records, 4 (New York, 1953).

Dockray-Miller, Mary, ‘Female Community in the Old English Judith’, Studia Neophilologica, 70 (1998), 165-72.

Dodgson, John McN. and Alexander R. Rumble, The Place-Names of Cheshire, English Place-Name Society, 6 vols, 44–48, 74 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press; Nottingham: English Place-Name Society, 1970–1997). Shocklach 4,62–67.

Dodo, M. R., T. Ause, E. T. Dauda, M. A. Adamu, 'Investigating the Cooling Rate of Cane Molasses as Quenching Medium for 0.61% C High Carbon Steels', Metallurgical and Materials Engineering, 22 (2016), 39-49, http://metall-mater-eng.com/index.php/home/article/view/139.

*Dodwell, C. R., Anglo-Saxon Art: A New Perspective (Ithaca 1982)

*Dommasnes, L. H., ‘Late Iron Age in Western Norway: Female Roles and Ranks as Deduced from an Analysis of Burial Customs’, Norwegian Archaeological Review, 15 (1982), 70–84.

Donahue, Charles, ‘The Valkyries and the Irish War-Goddesses’, PMLA, 56 (1941), 1–12. ‘In Scandinavian literature, the valkyries seem to be associated with [4] birds of prey. This association is so reminiscent of the Irish war-goddesses that one might be tempted to consider it a later borrowing. In the Old English Exodus, however, a raven, hovering in anticipation over an army, is described as wælceasiga, “the slain-choosing one”. [l. 164] It is not unlikely, therefore, that a connection with birds of prey was characteristic of the common Germanic valkyries’ (3-4). Hmm. Well, interesting anyway. Re Merseburg idisi fettering armies cf.s Herfjötur in Grímnismál and use as a common noun (4) and notes Solomon and Saturn 158-60 as possible OE comparison: ‘hwilum he [folme] gefeterað fæges mannes, / handa gehefegað, / ðonne ne æt hilde sceall / wið la werud / lifes tiligan’ (5, n. 31). ‘The pleasant Scandinavian valkyrie who brought wine to the heroes in Valhalla [citing Eiríksmál i, 9, 10] was a late development. She had a common Germanic ancestress who was a more sinister being, the cause of men’s death in battle, and also a vaguer being, not distinctly different from other unpleasant females such as witches and Mahren … In Oldenburg the Mahre is still called Walriderske … Neckel finds traces of the Mahre even in the Scandinavian valkyries’ (5). 8-9 re Housesteads Mars incriptions. an 9ff, n. 59 re etymologies of names there runs 9-11; much surveying of earlier scholarship. ‘The assumption that the [10] alaisiagae were valkyries fits neatly into the case for a common Celto-Germanic development of such figures; for, according to the Irish his[11]torical poet Flann Mainistrech, the Irish god of war, Neit, had two wives and they were to war-goddesses, Bodb and Nemaind’ (11), n. 60 says that flann died 1056, poem in Book of Leinster. Names Gaelic tho’. Basically generally goes for common origins and not too useful. But good refs and may be worth citing for these. And I like the Sol and Sat thing!

Donahue, Charles, ‘Grendel and the Clanna Cain’, Journal of Celtic Studies, 1 (1950), 167–75 [not in glas nor ed] [P733.c.36/ASNaC]. ‘The similari[175]ties in detail between Beowulf‚ ll. 111-14‚ and the Irish account of the evening of the first age are noteworthy. The remarks in Beowulf‚ ll. 113-14‚ about the gigantas who were punished by God are commonly held to be a reference to Genesis 6:4-7. The same passage‚ with the inclusion of the first three verses‚ is obviously the ultimate source of the Irish. The close verbal similarity between these two deriviates of Genesis‚ cahp. 6‚ is illustrated by the following pairs of words and phrases taken on the one hand from the formula passage in the Irish account‚ on the other from Beowulf‚ ll. 111-12: de sin = þanon‚ ro geinset = onwocon‚ torothuir = untydras‚ fomoraig 7 luchorpain 7 (cech n-ecosc) = eotenas ond ylfe ond (orcneas). Some of these coincidences may‚ of course‚ be due to chance‚ but that the word for monstra (torothuir = untydras) is in both cases followed by a triadic formula of explanation is striking. The formlas‚ moreover‚ are in thir first two items perhaps as nearly identical as differences in language and folklore permit … There are‚ to be sure‚ important differences between the two passages. In the Irish‚ the torothuir replace the gigantes of Genesis. In Beowulf‚ untydras and gigantas are both mentioned. Moreover‚ Beowulf says nothing of the part played by the sons of Seth. Nonetheless‚ the similarities between the passages are marked enough to warrant the assumption that they are not fortuitious’ (175). Have a closer look here.

Donahue, Daniel, Old English Literature: A Short Introduction (Oxford: Blackwell, 2004). Ch. 1 ‘The Vow’ starts with the Herefordshire woman and her speech act stuff, integrates it with importance of spoken word, and moves on to vows in lang and lit. Welcome integration of historical and literary evidence to a wider cultural approach to speech acts etc. 1–28, with the Herefordshire bit 1–5, 8–9. Ch. 2 on the hall.

Donlan, Kathleen, `The Lopapeysa: A Vehicle to Explore the Performance of Icelandic National Identity', Honors Thesis Collection, 335 (unpublished honours thesis, Wellesley College, 2016). http://repository.wellesley.edu/thesiscollection/335.

Dorling, Daniel, Injustice: Why Social Inequality Persists (Bristol: Policy Press, 2011). 'In 2009 the OECD revealed ... that Britain diverted a larger share of its school education spending (23%) to a tiny proportion of privately educated children (7%) than did almost any other rich nation. That inequality had been much less 30 years earlier' ((61).

Douglas, Mary, Purity and Danger: An Analysis of the Concepts of Pollution and Taboo (London, 1966, repr. 1996) XXXXstyle. ‘No particular set of classifying symbols can be understood in isolation, but there can be hope of making sense of them in relation to the total structure of classifications in the culture in question’ (vii). ‘So the structural approach was in the air of anthropology before Levi-Strauss was stimulated by structural linguistics to apply it to kinship and mythology’—ahaa, follow up. ‘Pollution ideas work in the life of society at two levels, one largely instrumental, one expressive. At the first level, the more obvious one, we find people trying to influence one another’s behaviour. Beliefs reinforce social pressures: all the powers of the universe are called in to guarantee an old man’s dying wish, a mother’s dignity, the rights of the weak and innocent. … Similarly the ideal order of society is guarded by dangers which threaten transgressors. These danger-beliefs are as much threats which one man uses to coerce another as dangers which he himself fears to incur by his own lapses from righteousness. They are a strong language of mutual exhortation. At this level the laws of nature are dragged in to sanction the moral code: this kind of disease is caused by adultery, that by incest; this meteorological disaster is the effect of political disloyalty, that the effect of impiety. The whole universe is harnessed to men’s attempts to force one another into good citizenship. Thus we find that certain moral values are upheld and certain social rules defined by beliefs in dangerous contagion, as when the glance or touch of an adulterer is held to bring illness to his neighbours or his children’ (3).

‘Primitive society is an energised structure in the centre of its universe. Powers shoot out from its strong points, powers to prosper and dangerous powers to retaliate against attack. But the society does not exist in a neutral, uncharged vacuum. It is subject to external pressures; that which is not with it, part of it and subject to its laws, is potentially against it. In describing these pressures on boundaries and margins I admit to having made society sound more systematic than it really is. But just such an expressive over-systematising is necessary for interpreting the beliefs in question. For I believe that ideas about separating, purifying, demarcating and punishing transgressions have as their main function to impose system on an inherently untidy experience. It is only by exaggerating the difference between within and without, about and below, male and female, with and against, that a semblance of order is created. In this sense I am not afraid of the charge of having made the social structure seem over-rigid’ (4). Hmm, no doubt this applies in important ways to what I’ve been doing. But do these assumptions also prompt me to over-tidy untidy data which was always meant to be untidy?

‘Durkheim’s debt to Robertson Smith is acknowledged in the Elementary Forms of the Religious Life (p. 61). His whole book [20] develops the germinal idea that primitive gods are part and parcel of the community, their form expressing accurately the details of its structure, their powers punishing and rewarding on its behalf’ (20). Further on Durkheim 19–23 et passim. ‘In the first place we shall not expect to understand religion if we confine ourselves to considering belief in spiritual beings, however the formula may be refined. There may be contexts of enquiry in which we should want to line up all extant beliefs in other beings, zombies, ancestors, demons, fairies—the lot. But following Robertson Smith we should not suppose that in cataloguing the full spiritual population of the universe we have necessarily caught the essentials of religion’ (29).

30–36 deals somewhat with medicine etc. Useful re the discussion of medical historiog. ‘Comparative religion has always been bedevilled by medical materialism. Some argue that even the most exotic of ancient rites have a sound hygienic basis. Others, though agreeing that primitive ritual has hygiene for its object, take the opposite view of its soundness. For them a great gulf divides our sound ideas of hygiene from the primitive’s erroneous fancies. But both these medical approaches to ritual are fruitless because of a failure to confront our own ideas of hygiene and dirt’ (30). The former she is happy with to a degree: ‘So much for medical materialism, a term coined by William James for the tendency to account for religious experience in these terms: for instance, a vision or dream is explained as due to drugs or indigestion. There is no objection to this approach unless it excludes other interpretations. Most primitive peoples are medical materialists in an extended sense, in so far as they tend to justify their ritual actions in terms of aches and pains which would afflict them should the rites be neglected. I shall later show why ritual rules are so often supported with beliefs that specific dangers attend on their breach. By the time I have finished with ritual danger I think no one should be tempted to take such beliefs at face value’ (33).

71–73 forceful statement of potential effectiveness of healing rituals etc. with a couple of refs.

74–78 supporting the use of the term ‘primitive’ and vs cultural relativism stuff.

‘Here there is a trap to avoid. Some ways of talking about things might seem to the naïve observer to imply personality. Nothing can necessarily be inferred about beliefs from purely linguistic distinctions or confusions. For instance a Martian anthropologist might come to the wrong conclusion on overhearing an English plumber askinghis mate for the male and [87] female parts of plugs. To avoid falling into linguistic pitfalls, I confinemy interests to the kind of behaviour which is supposed to produce a response from allegedly impersonal forces. // It may not be at all relevant here that the Nyae-Nyae Bushmen attribute male and female character to clouds, any more than it is relevant that we use ‘she’ for cars and boats. But it may be relevant that the pygmies of the Ituri forest, when misfortune befalls, say that the forest is in a bad mood and go to the trouble of singing to it all night to cheer it up, and that they then expect their affairs to prosper (Turnbull). No European mechanic in his senses would hope to cure engine trouble by serenade or curse’ (86–87). Hmm, well, yes. But do I entirely agree? Moreover, follow this line up in anthropolgy.

‘Ritual recognises the potency of disorder. In the disorder of the mind, in dreams, faints and frenzies, ritual expects to find powers and truths which cannot be reached by conscious effort. Energy to command and special powers of healing come to those who can abandon rational control for a time. Sometimes an Andaman Islander leaves his band and wanders in the forest like a madman. When he returns to his sense and to human society he has gained occult power of healing (ref XXXX). This is a very common notion, widely attested. Webster in his chapter on the Making of a Magician (The Sociological Study of Magic), gives many examples. I also quote the Ahanzu, a tribe in the central region of Tanzania, where one of the recognised ways of acquiring a diviner’s skill is by going mad in the bush. Virginia Adam, who worked among this tribe, tells me that their ritual cycle culminates in annual rain rituals. If at the expected time rain falls, people suspect sorcery. To undo the effects of sorcery they take a simpleton and send him wandering into the bush. In the course of his wanderings he unknowingly destroys the sorcerer’s work’ (95) cf. Wild Man trad? And also zipping off to fairyland of course. More on power of marginal status96–99. ‘To plot a map of the powers and dangers in a primitive universe, we need to underline the interplay of ideas of form and formlessness. So many ideas of power are based on an idea of society as a series of forms contrasted with sourrounding non-form. There is a power in the forms and other power in the inarticulate area, margins, confused lines, and beyond the external boundaries. If pollution is a particular class of danger, to see where it belongs in the universe of dangers we need an inventory of all the possible sources of power. … The spiritual powers which human action can unleash can roughly be divided into two classes—internal and external. The first reside within the psyche of the agent—such as evil eye, witchcraft, gifts of vision or prophecy. The second are external symbols on which the agent must consciously work: spells, blessings, curses, charms and formulas and invocations. These powers require actions by which spiritual power is discharged’ (99). Correlates this distinction respectively with uncontrolled and controlled power 99–100. Also distinguishes powers thus: ‘Some powers are exerted on behalf of the social structure; they protect society from malefactors against whom their danger is directed. Their use must be approved by all good men. Other powers are supposed to be a danger to society and their use is disapproved; those who use them are malefactors, their victims are innocent and all good men would try to hound them down—these are witches and sorcerers. This is the old distinction between white and black magic. // Are these two classifications completely unconnected? Here I tentatively suggest a correlation: where the social system explicitly recognised positions of authority, those holding such positions are endowed with explicit spiritual power, controlled, conscious, external and approved—powers to bless or curse. Where the social system requires people tohold dangerously ambiguous roles, these persons are credited with uncontrolled, unconscious, dangerous, disapproved powers—such as witchcraft and evil eye. // In other words, where the social system iswell-articulated, I look for articulate powers vested in the points of authority; where the social system is ill-articulated, I look for inarticulate powers vested in those who are a source of disorder. I am suggesting that the contrast between form and surrounding non-form accounts for the distribution of symblic and psychic powers: external symbolism upholds the explicit social structure [101] and internal, unformed psychic powers threaten it from the non-structure’ (100–101). Cf. Brown and Thomson etc. on rise of witchcraft in times of social stress. Further on this theme 101– (or you cd cite whole chapter, Powers and Dangers, being pp. 95–114. Witches in ‘relatively unstructured areas of society’ (103).

Discusses ambguity of married woemn, linked at once to husband and brother, with potential for witchcraft; ‘These people are none of them without a proper niche in the total society. But from the perspective of one internal sub-system to which they do not belong, but in which they must operate, they are intruders’ (103) re father among matrilineal Trobrianders and Ashanti, and mother’s brother in patrilineal Tikopia and Taleland; Kachin wife in ?patrilineal. ‘There are probably man more variant types of socially ambgiuous or weakly defined statuses to which involuntary witchcraft is attributed … If the correlation were generally to hold good for the distribution of dominant, persistent forms of spiritual power, it would clarify the nature of pollution. For, as I see it, ritual pollution also arises from the interplay of form and surrounding formlessness. Pollution dangers strike when form has been attacked. Thus we would have a triad ofpowers controlling fortune and misfortune: first, formal powers wielded by persons representing the formal structure and exercised on behalf of the formal structure: second, formless powers wielded by interstitial persons: third, powers not wielded by any person, but inhering in the structure, which strike against any infraction of form. This three-fold scheme for investigating primitive [106] cosmologies unfortunatelycomes to grief over exceptions which are too important to brush aside’ (105–106). Because folks in proper positions in soc. may exert unconscious power and people in marginal ones conscious power (106). But then, positions of authority may themselves be a bit ambiguous… Eg. abusers of positions of power may be unconsciously using bad power. etc. (106–).

Case study of Nuer 131–35. 133: ‘Another general point is suggested by this example. We have given instances of behaviour which the Nuer often regard as morally neutral, and yet which they believe sets off dangerous manifestations of power. There are also types of behaviour which Nuer regard as thoroughly reprehensible, and which are not thought to incur automatic danger. For example, it is a positive duty for a son to honour his father, and acts of filial disrespect are thought to be very wrong. But unlike lack of respect towards parents-in-law, they are not visitedwith automatic punishment. The social difference between the two situations is that a man’s own father as head of the joint family and controller of its herds is in a strong economic position for asserting his superior status, while the father-in-law or mother-in-law is not. This accords with the general principle that when the sense of outrage is adequately equipped with practical sanctions in the social order, pollution is not likely to arise. Where, humanly speaking,the outrage is likely to go unpunished, pollution beliefs tend to be called in to supplement the lack of other sanctions’ (133). So pollution rules relate to moral code but are by no means identical with it (133–34). Some correspondmore closely; ‘The Nuer examples suggest the following ways in which pollution beliefs can uphold the moral code:

When a situation is morally ill-defined, a pollution belief can provide a rule for determining post hoc whether infraction has taken place, or not.

When moreal principles come into conflict, a pollution rule can reduce confusion by giving a simple focus for concern.

When action that is held to be morally wrong does not provoke moral indignation, belief in the harmful consequences of a pollution can have the effect of aggravating the seriousness of the offence, and so of marshalling public opinion on the side of the right.

When moral indignation is not reinforced by practical sanctions, pollution beliefs can provide a deterrent to wrongdoers’

(134). Latter particularly important in socs with weak mechanisms of retriution, and to help prevent situations which mechanisms couldn’t usually resolve, e.g. fratricide (cf. Bwf on problems of that!). [Does this suggest that as the state grows stronger, pollution rules are less required? Guess this is implicit in Douglas’s wider argument; she probably says it somewhere…] ‘In such cases we commonly find that pollution danger is expected to fall on the head of the fratricide. // [135] This is a very different problem from the pollution whose danges fall, not on the head of the transgressor but on the innocent. We saw that the innocent Nuer husband is the one whose life is risked when his wife commits adultery. There are many variations on this theme … The adulterer himself is not often thought to risk danger … In the case of fratricide above, moral indignation is not lacking. The problem is a practical question of how to punish rather than one of how to arouse moral fervour against the crime. The danger replaces active human punishment. In the case of adultery pollution the belief that the innocent are in danger helps to brand the delinquent and to rouse moral fervour against him. So in this case pollution ideas strengthen the demand for active human punishment’ (136). Precise explanations for individual systems: ‘The answer must lie in a minute examination of the distribution of rights and duties in marriage and the various interests and advantages of each party’ (136)—darn! 138-9: ‘Any complex of symbols can take on a cultural life of its own and even acquire initiative in the development of social institutions. For example, among the Bemba their sex pollution rules would seem on the face of it to express approval of fidelity [139] between husband and wife. In practice divorce is now common and one gets the impression that they turn to divorce and remarriage as a means of avoiding the pollution of adultery. This radical deflection from once-held objectives is only possible when other forces of disintegration are work’ (138–39).

‘In all the examples quoted of this kind of pollution, the basic problem is a case of wanting to have your cake and eat it. The Enga wants to fight their [sic] enemy clans but yet to marry with their clanswomen. The Lele want to use women as the pawns of men, and yet will take sides with individual women against other men. The Bemba women was to be free and independent and to behave in ways which threaten to weck their marriages, and yet they want their husbands to stay with them. In each case the dangerous situation which has to be handled with washings and avoidances has in common with the others that the norms of behaviour are contradictory… // Is there any reason why all these examples of the social system at war with itself are drawn from sexual relations? There are many other contexts in which we are led into contradictory behaviour by the normal canons of our culture. National income policy is one modern field in which this sort of analysis could [159] easily be applied. Yet pollution fears do not seem to cluster round contradictions which do not involve sex. The answer may be that no other social pressures are potentially so explosive as those which constrain sexual relations’ (158–59).

178–79 re voluntary suffocation at grave of Dinka spear-masters (priestly class)—would be a good analogue for kings going into the haugr.

*Douglas, Mary, Risk and Blame (London, 1992). Re witchcraft, disease, infection, etc. Looks dead useful. NB p. 98 re witchcraft as arrow, etc. Hmm, actually maybe less useful, but the witchcraft article no doubt worthwhile.

Doskow, Minna, ‘Poetic Structure and the Problem of the Smiths in Wið Færstice’, Papers on Language and Literature, 12 (1976), 321–26. [P700.c.378]. ‘If, however, we identify the exorcist’s enemies correctly as both female witches and male smiths, the structural unity of the charm remains intact’ (323). Scholars identify smiths as bad guys ‘for various anthropological, mythological and other extra-textual reasons’ (323). re friendly smith idea: ‘Such an identification raises many more questions than it answers. Why should the description in the first section of the attacking forces be interrupted by the introduction of an allied force? Why should the pattern of identification of the sources of evil (3–12) be suddenly broken to identify an ally, the single smith, only to return to naming evil powers after introducing the ally?’ etc. (324). Otherwise obvious enough, similar line to Hauer.

Dictionary of the Older Scottish Tongue, 12 vols (Chicago: University of Chicago Press; Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1931–2002); accessed from , s.v. s(c)hute I 7 fig. To schute to dede (deith), to die suddenly, as by a mishap or accident. Also, freq., as a result of magic or witchcraft. See 25c below and S(c)hot n.110. II 13 To thrust a (relatively) pointed object (through (thorow) something); to put (in) (a material thing) (in a specified place) with a rapid or forceful movement. III 21 To discharge a missile. IV 23c fig. To wound or kill be the ‘evil eye’. V 25 ‘Allusively, in references to … c. The superstition that sudden illness, injury or death might be caused by flint arrow heads shot by fairies, a power also claimed and “practised” by witches (cf. 7 above)’. NB some refs don’t back up the fairy bit apparently, thus ‘Be the pannellis sorcerie . . thair haill hors and cattell sudanlie schote to deid; 1629 Judiciary Cases I iii. The said Jeane be hir sorcerie and witchcraft, laid upone thrie of the saidis horssis [that] thay presentlie schot to dead; 1649 Ib. III 813. When she was layein wakeing with a paine in her arme, she perceaved her thombe shot through with that which they call ane elffe stone; 1659 Sc. Law Times (1935) 169 (20 July)’. Plus Roiss and Peisoun cases. Hmm.

s.v. Mare, Mair(e, n.1 [ME. and e.m.E. mare, OE. mare wk. fem.] The incubus supposed to produce nightmare; the nightmare itself. — The mowlis and in thair sleip the mare; Rowll Cursing 65. Than langour on me lyis lyk Morpheus the mair; Bann. MS. 231 b/19 1570 Sat. P. x. 6 [see Mair n. i (b.).] James VI Dæmonol. 69. The maire thaireafter smoaris him; Id. Poems I. 153/371. Montg. Flyt. 313.

Dowden, Ken, The Uses of Greek Mythology (London: Routledge, 1992). 123–36 particularly on assoc of landscape with different mythological groups etc.126–29 re nymphs. ‘From the Hellenistic Age onwards we become aware of Pan and the Nymphs—in literature, landscape-painting and even reality’ (126). Wonder when Hellensitic age is? Surely no later than Homer. ‘Nymphs are an essential part of the generic landscape. They are the apotheosis of marriageable girls at the peak of beauty and desirability, with nice names like Amaryllis and Galatea. They are not yet someone else’s, but are there to be courted and pined over [127] by the Daphnises of the pastoral world. But they remain elusive and ungraspable. Even at this late stage in the development of the nymphs [which? Presumably in the Daphnis story] we perceive the tension in this male mythology between the irresistability of this class of female and the impossibility (i.e. prohibition) of seduction’ (126–27). ‘Nymphe in Greek means not only a “nymph”, but also a girl ready for marriage, a bride or a newly-wed. Indeed, the word itself may be related to the Latin word for “marry” nubere. Their goddess is [128] Artemis who is frequently attended by them in the wilds, typically hunting. As a result it looks very much as though nymphs originally represent the age-class of girls secluded in preparation for marriage and being true to their liminal condition be being neither maidenly nor matronly. Hence nymphs come to be portrayed as roaming the wilds’ (127–28). Remember to cf. Purkiss on nymphs.

On matriarchy myths, and how they’re not historical 152–54. Wars with giants/foreigners 158–61. Satrys and male sexuality 165–66; ‘The unacceptable extremes of male sexuality are exported from men to satyrs’ (165). ‘Satyrs and maenads are both good material for art: they can be captured in a characteristic moment. But their strength is their weakness: they have no time-depth, no story, no names. Their iconography, their context and their behaviour define them. They are “mythical” creatures because they belong to the common Greek imaginative inventory, their imaginaire’ (166).

*TitleEuropean PaganismAuthor(s)Ken DowdenPublisherRoutledge (UK)Publication DateMarch 1, 2000SubjectReligion / World ReligionsFormatHardcoverPages400Dimensions6.43 x 9.49 x 1.15 inISBN0415120349 Focuses on landscape so clearly dead important for you.

Downes, Jeremy, ‘Or(e)ality: The Nature of Truth in Oral Settings’, in Oral Tradition in the Middle Ages, ed. by W. F. H. Nicolaisen, Medieval & Renaissance Texts & Studies, 112 (Binghamton, New York: Centre for Medieval and Early Renaissance Studies, State University of New York at Binghamton, 1995), pp. 129–44. Re the retelling in the Beowulf and Breca and Unferth stuff. And how truth is the truth of the best storyteller. ‘Hans Vaihinger, and more recently the radical constructivist philosophers, have taken as a basic epistemological stance that “truth” is a culturally relative conceptual tool, “an adaptation in the functional sense”. As Vaihinger so neatly puts it, “What we generally call truth ... is merely the most expedient error”. in the light of current critical discussion of oral noetics [sic], and orality in general, I would like to make a brief preliminary exploration of the way truth is established and received in oral settings. The definition of truth as [130] “expedient error” allows two major advantages in the study of orality. First, by calling the status of all truth into question, such a definition breaks down the “Great Divide” so often created between so-called “primitive” and “advanced” cultures. Second, and more important, is Vaihinger’s emphasis of truth as an eminently useful concept, a “system of ideas which enables us to act and to deal with things most rapidly, neatly, and safely”. According to such a view, truth, in oral or literate settings, operates as a fundamental conceptual tool, as a guide to action within the world, and thus ultimately as a means of survival. // Once the essential utility of truth is recognized, it becomes clear that there are different kinds of truth suitable for different ocasions. For example, the sharp distinction drawn between orality and literacy is greatly overshadowed by the profound similarities between such cultures; however, the distinction is “true” insofar as it serves a useful purpose, encouraging us to recognize those important differences which do exist’ (129–30). ‘In oral societies, then, we see more overtly the establishment of truth from the position of power, whether that power resides in knowledge, rank, age, or force. Though literates tend to see the argumentum ad hominem, for example, as a fallacious means of establishing truth, we recognize its effectiveness nonetheless. In oral societies, such a means is not fallacious, but instead shows verbal prowess and knowledge, and thus establishes a greater right to a truthful narrative’ (136). Oral societies or oral discourse? But does go on ‘Thus, basic mental operations, in their organizational interaction with a “blueprint of the political system”, generate a system of conventional laws whereby truth is established. In this, oral cultures are not far different from literate cultures. The third determinant of conventional legisimilitude, however, rests on the very technological difference between the two cultures, for in an oral culture, as Welter J. Ong points out, one must [137] “think memorable thoughts. ...” ’ (136–37). ‘These conventional ways of patterning, created to counteract the defects of human memory, act as a third and very powerful force in the determination of legisimilar truth. A new narrative, in order to be perceived as true, will have to accord with the form of other truthful narratives. This can be observed to a lesser extent in literate settings, of course; a scholarly article that abrogates generic conventions ... is clearly less true (less “scholarly”) than one which accords with those conventions’ (137). All the same, this would put the massive importance of typological similarities as a mark of truth in SS lives as a mark of relative orality—but such reason surely goes on now. Beowulf as fitting oral patterns of truth better than Unferth (137–XXXXX). But misses the point that Unferth’s version is not amazing and groovy because its main protagonist must fall flat by definition—the flatness reflects more on Beowulf than on Unferth’s truth value? Er, or maybe not? Distinguishes versimilitude (like the messy and anecdotal way life happens) from legisimilitude (true according to the laws of nature/the world).

Downes, Jeremy M., Recursive Desire: Rereading Epic Tradition (Tuscaloosa: University of Alabama Press, 1997).

Downham, Clare, ‘The Chronology of the Last Scandinavian Kings of York, AD 937–954’, Northern History, 40 (2003), 25–51.

Draper, 'Old English wīc and walh: Britons and Saxons in Post-Roman Wiltshire', Landscape History, 24 (2002), 29-43; https://doi.org/10.1080/01433768.2002.10594537

Driscoll, Matthew James, Sigurðar saga þǫgla: The Shorter Redaction, Edited from AM 596 4to, Stofnun Árna Magnússonar á Íslandi, rit, 34 (Reykjavík: Stofnun Árna Magnússonar á Íslandi, 1992). Nothing on sources/influences, as I'd hoped, but an interesting discussion on deciding whether the shorter or longer version is more original, plumping for the shorter.

Driscoll, Matthew James, The Unwashed Children of Eve: The Production, Dissemination and Reception of Popular Literature in Post-Reformation Iceland (Enfield Lock: Hisarlik Press, 1997).

Driscoll, Matthew, `Late Prose Fiction (Lygisögur)', in A Companion to Old Norse-Icelandic Literature and Culture, ed. by Rory McTurk (Oxford: Blackwell, 2005), pp. 190--204

Driscoll, Matthew James, `The Words on the Page: Thoughts on Philology, Old and New', in Creating the Medieval Saga: Versions, Variability, and Editorial Interpretations of Old Norse Saga Literature, ed. by Judy Quinn and Emily Lethbridge, The Viking Collection, 18 (Odense: University Press of Southern Denmark, 2010), pp. 85--102, accessed from http://www.staff.hum.ku.dk/mjd/words.html.

*Dronke, Peter, ‘The Return of Eurydice’, Classica et Mediaevalia, 23 (1962), 198-215.

Dronke, Peter, ‘Waltharius-Gaiferos’, in Barbara et antiquissima carmina: I. Le caractère de la poésie germanique heroïque; II. Waltharius-Gaiferos, ed. by Ursula Dronke and Peter Dronke (Barcelona: Universidad Autónoma de Barcelona, Facultad de Letras, 1977), pp. 27–79. Looks like a major study and synthesis. Yay! 31–32 re how Waltharius and all analogues fundamentally romantic, have happy ending, W. doesn’t want to have to fight. And how folks have tried to argue this away positing an earlier tragic ending and how this is foolish.Analogues quick survey 32–34; origins 34–37; independence shown by variations in detail 39–40. OE fragment generall 37–41. Striking parallels in a speech in Waltharius and Þiðreks saga re Walther convincing Hildegunt go come away with him (43–45). Other stuff mainly re Spanish material thereafter, bla. Appendix 66–79 on dating, basically arguing from parallels with other Latin texts. Reckons early C9, for what it’s worth.

Dronke, Peter, ‘Towards the Interpretation of the Leiden Love-Spell’, Cambridge Medieval Celtic Studies, 16 (1988), 61–75. Notes Lacnunga parallels to ovening instruction of Leiden love-spell 64—but just how it says ‘say this psalm’, no textual link. Locates crucial difference from loricae in the they implore and this demands (71). Herren thought this text a lorica but it’s obviously not. Nowt on MS context . Lein, Bibliotheek der Rijksuniversiteit, MS Voss. Lat. Q. 2, fol. 60rab) (61).

Dronke, Ursula, ‘Art and Tradition in Skírnismál’, in English and Medieval Studies Presented to J. R. R. Tolkien, ed. by N. Davis and C. L. Wrenn (London: Allen and Unwin, 1962), pp. 250–68 (repr. in Dronke, Ursula, Myth and Fiction in Early Norse Lands (Aldershot, 1996), ch. 9). Mentions Rindr without drawing parallels 251. ‘These loves of Óðinn, most complex of the Norse gods, may once have related to aspects of his nature as a god of growth and husband of the earth’ (251, citing De Vries §§393, 395, 516 and a coupleof other things). ‘Sahlgren argues in vain that “Skírnismál intet har at berätta om fruktbarhetskult” ’ (253, with fn. 7 dissing him. See Sahlgren 1928, 18). ‘The bride of Freyr is by that very fact [i.e. by the fact of being Freyr’s bride] his partner in a sacred [254] marriage, and in the imagination of those who worship him represents the terrestrial elements that he fructifies by his divine spirit’ (253–54—blimey! Also seems pretty circular). Not unuseful survey of ev. for Freyr 251-55. Notes rune-poems re þurs 257. ‘It is apt, succinct, integrating, to use the ogre-world as her hell, since proverbially Þurs er kvenna kvo[hooked o]l, ‘Ogre is women’s torment’ [XXXXXyou missed a bit here I thinkXXXXX]. This is the motto applied to the þ-rune in the Icelandic and Norwegain Runic Poems. Precisely what torment or illness of women is meant can hardly be determined, nor why a þurs should cause it [sounds pretty prudish, and ignores runic inscriptions...]. But if þurs is traditionally the rune that causes women’s torment—þurs ríst ek þér—then Gerðr’s hell is properly Þursheimr’ (257). ‘Þursheimr resembles the banishment that primitive tribes impose upon a menstruating woman … Do such superstitions underlie the proverb Þurs er kvenna kv²l?’ (259). Gerðr and Iðunn as the same? (260-61). ‘One last point may underline the complexity and sophistication of the poem. The forcing of the girl to bow to Freyr’s will is achieved by the threat of runic spells. Freyr is not the god commonly associated with runic magic: the only other story of threatening a woman by the power of runes is told of Óðinn. By runes carved on a piece of bark he makes Rindr frenzied’ ‘… in two legends of a girl’s scared marriage with a god, that of Rindr and that of Gerðr, a curse is a prelude to the god’s possession of her. This strengthens the probability that the curese on the refusing woman was an integral part of a version of the hieros gamos. In that case, in two legends of a girl’s sacred marriage with a god, that of Rindr and that of Gerðr, a curse is a prelude to the god’s possession of her. This strengthens the possibility that the curse on the refusing woman was an integral part of a version of the hieros gamos known in Scandinavia. If the curse were original to traditions of Óðinn and not to those of Freyr, it would only have been borrowed into Skírnismál because that also told of a hieros gamos. Traditions of the two [268] gods overlap in so far as their natures do. Whether the poet of Skírnismál inherited the tradition of Skírnir’s curse as part of Freyr’s wooing, or whether he himself introduced it into his poem, what could be more natural than that he should model the curse on runic imprecations appropriate to Óðinn, introducing the gambanteinn ‘magic twig’, the mesmeric eye—seztu niðr—and the carving of the rune-spell, much as Egill Skallagrímsson himself might have done?’ (267-8).

*Dronke, Ursula, and Peter Dronke, ‘The Prologue of the Prose Edda: Explorations of a Latin Background’, in Sjötíu Ritgerðir, helgaður Jakobi Benediktssyni (Reykjavík, 1977), pp. 153–76.

*Dronke, Ursula, ‘The War of the Æsir and the Vanir in Vọluspá’, Idee (1988), 223–38. Repr in 1996. Looks like a milder version of North’s bit…

*Dronke, Ursula, Myth and Fiction in Early Norse Lands (Aldershot, 1996). Collected articles, looks dead handy.

Dronke, Ursula (ed. and trans.), The Poetic Edda, Volume II: Mythological Poems (Oxford, 1997).

Re Völundr’s binding: ‘Saxo too describes the elaborate precautions that must be taken before Hotherus can bind and rob the satyrus Mimingus, who lived in a cave in a barely accessible, icy region and possessed the only sword that could kill Balderus … [n. 11:Saxo iii.ii.5–6 … The “devastating cold” of th region where Mimingus lived, and the need to travel by reindeer, suggests a context suited also to V²lundr, son of the king of the Lapps…’] The name Mimingus links this satyrus (a wild man of the woods?) with the smith’s name Mímir and the sword Mimming, and I would suppose that Saxo implied that the satyrus was the maker of the treasures. (Saxo may well be indebted to traditions of V²lundr in this depiction.)’ (260). ‘The etymology of álfr is disputed; the connection with Skr Rbhús [underringingXXXX] being variously rejected or accepted. The coincidence in function between the Norse elves and the Indian Rbhús [underriningXXXX] lends weight to the argument for a common origin of the words; an IE root could derive from a zero-grade form of this IE root—which moreover could be the basis, with nasal infix, of the Skr rábhate, ‘grasps’ (< *Lmbh- [underingingXXXX] according to S. Mann s.v.)’ (261, n. 13). 272 n. 38 some refs re Ardre VIII. NB form VELANDU C7 Gmn gravestone (citing Nedoma 1988, 58). ‘Like Samson, with all his flaws, Weland too might stand as a figura of Christ. In the science of figura, facts irrelevant to the analogy are not significant’ (280). ‘I would suggest that the carvings of Weland on the Gotland stone and on the tenth century English crosses … point to a simpler and more profound Christian interpretation of Weland. He is portrayed escaping from a smithy on wings, bearing with him a girl. This is a rescue, a saving of the girl from the prison of the smithy, from the despair of her mortal life. It is also a swiftly comprehensible image of redemption, of the deliverance of the soul’ (281). Probably unuseful note to this but it’s long and might have summat in it. Tries the same for the casket (281-2). Hardly convincing… ‘The image of the dying whale, stranded, thrashing the shallows in despair, can hardly be a fortuitioua frame for the two scenes it presents’ (284). note 61 interesting re Alfred’s Fabricius source thingy—pre-Boethius? Dronke sees Alfred’s verse passage as ‘exaltation of Weland’ (285). Hmm. Figura bit 280-85. Re alvítr, ‘probably the poet was using a general term already assimilated into Norse from Old English supernatural beings’ (286). Well, kind of… ‘

‘The author of the prose prologue identifies Níðuðr as a king in Sweden and V²lundr and his two brothers as sons of the kling of the Lapps. These young royal Lapps, wide-ranging hunters, settle in Nordic-named Úlfdalir, which is claimed by Níðuðr as his land (so it would seem, 14/9…). It is this that brings V²lundr within his power. V²lundarkviða now presents a racial confrontation between Lapps and Swedes, in which the Nordic authorities assume their accustomed sovereignty and the Lapps repay them with treacherous and insidious magic. This narrative formula is familiar to the Norse thirteenth century historians’ (287). ‘I can only suppose that in a north Norwegian community in frequent contact with the Lapps, Norsemen might have recognized similarities between motifs in V²lundr’s story and some Lappish legends and traditions. He was a fantastic smith, remaking human heads … and he escaped by flight, like shamans of legend and living shamans who claimed to go on trance journeys through air and water. V²lundr certain does not resemble any other Germanic hero whose story is extant’ (287). 287-9 rather mad idea that it’s Ohthere who transmits the Weland stuff to Norway—just ‘cos it has finns in!! Kind of interesting tho’ for Lappish connections in ASE. Suggests Icelandic redactor, not implausibly (in fact, entirely unsurprisingly) (289-90). 302-4 detailed study of alvítr (as she has it); probably worth citing. 310-11 re problem of lióði; favours ‘prince’ idea, not without reason. Check.

‘Vitka líki: Loki is, no doubt, alluding to Ó’dinn’s journey to the Ruthenians (? in Russia; Saxo iii.iv) to practise seiðr upon the princess Rindr, to beget a son who would avenge Baldr (Kormakr, Sigurðardrápa ¾: seið Yggr til Rindar; BDr 11; cf. Vsp 22-3). Among the ruses to seduce her, in Saxo, Óðinn disguises himself as a medicine-woman, called Wecha (i.e. ON *Vekka < *Vetka < *Vitka, “sorceress”, fem. forms of vitki, “wizard”, not elsewhere recorded in ON). As Strömback argues, 26, it is not necessary to emend to vitku in Lks since Óðinn is performing seiðr as a wizard by pretending to be female. When Óðinn sets out in his disguise, Saxo calls hima viator indefessus, seeking the Ruthenian king for the fourth time: this may relate to 24/5: fórtu verþióð yfir.’ (362).

NBs many Classical love-spells cfing Skírn. also P. Dronke on Leiden Love-Charm 398-9. ‘In planning Skírnir’s curse did the poet borrow from love-spells in popular magical-erotic lore that he knew, to describe his love-frustrated earth? Some of the motifs in the Greek papyri appear again in Bergen. Beneath the learned erotic tradition of the Leiden Lorica, with its Celtic and Graeco-Roman literary links, there may also have been a current of unwritten practice’ (399).

*Drury, Neville, The Shaman and the Magician (London, 1981), 109-112 re most typical shamanic drugs.

*duBois, Page, Centaurs and Amazons: Women and the Pre-History of the Great Chain of Being (Ann Arbor, 1982).

Dubois, Thomas A., Finnish Folk Poetry and the 'Kalevala', New Perspectives in Folklore, 1/Garland Reference Library of the Humanities, 1895 (New York: Garland, 1995). 184-201 on how Vihtoora Lesonen (collected in 1894) had learned the knee-wound section of the Kalevala, but shortened it and in other respects too brought it into line with local traditions. But the synty section in the Kalevala 'finds no parallel in the Knee Wound songs of his family or region. Thus, it is not surprising that Vihtoora's lines match closely those of the literary text' (197). So why leave this addendum to stand when it's clearly unparalleled and he otherwise tidies things up? 'Part of the answer for this change in approach lies in a remark recorded by Karjalainen at the end of his notation of Varahvontta's Knee Wound: 'Tähä peähä tulou rauvan synt'i kun se ukko ottau ta rupieu parantamah. Se oisi ollu iellä rauvan synnin laulettava.' ['Right here comes the birth of iron song when that old man starts to heal him. In olden times one would have sung the birth of iron'] (SKVR I₁: 306, postscript). Here, the influence of the Kalevala is unmistakeable, for its order and contents have taught the traditional singer to expect a charm at this point in the song, indeed to view the existence of a charm as part of the song iellä ('in olden times') even though the Knee Wound itself -- as performed in Viena Karelia -- seldom actually includes the loitsu it calls for. ... Clearly, Varahvontta's remark is a milder version of the same change in understanding that led Vihtoora to memorize an additional 109 lines of song outside of his family's traditional repertoire' (199).

[CUL!] DuBois, Th. A., ‘Seiðr, sagas, and Saami: Religious Exchange in thr Viking Age’, in Northern Peoples, Southern States: Maintaining Ethnicities in the Circumpolar World, ed. by Robert P. Wheelersburg (Umeå, 1996). [NW1 698:3.c.95.58]

DuBois, Thomas A., Nordic Religions in the Viking Age (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1999).

‘The Icelandic law tract Úlfljótslög decrees that all persons wishing to conduct legal business at court must swear to three gods on a sacred arm ring, conserved at a particular temple’ (43), citing GTP, Nine Norse Studies 1972, 4–5

‘The arrival of agriculture in the Nordic region brought with it distinct and revolutionary religious concepts. Celestial bodies—stars, the moon, the sun—rose as favored motifs in rock paintings dating from the second millenium b.c. and after, coincident with the spread of agricultural practices in the region’ (54). Goes on to argue that deities become anthropomorphised and gendered with rise of ‘the coital act … as a prime metaphor for the mystery of agricultural fecundity’ (54). ‘The deities of the earth—the Vanir of Scandinavian texts—were on the whole a passionate, lascivious lot. Within the worldview of early agriculturalists, the magic of natural regeneration—the very basis of agriculture—leads naturally to magic of other types. The Eddaic poem Völuspá depicts Vanir magic as a redolent, intoxicating force, wielded with might and success against the weapons of the Æsir’ (54). Very questionable ideas re Vanir, and extropolations from texts: ‘At every turn within his texts, in fact, Snorri depicts the Vanir as ambiguous figures: powerful and even essential to the proper functioning of the cosmos, but dubious as emulative role models’; markets Hjalti Skeggjason’s verse vs. Freyja with ‘While this Christian disapproval of Vanir customs is clear, it remains difficult to appraise pagan views of these gods’ behaviour’ (55). ‘Recurrently throughout Nordic agrarian religions, we see such mysterious deities of the earth and fertility engaged in procreative sexual relations, a concept known by its Greek title hieros gamos, “divine marriage”. From the union of male god and female earth comes the harvest or the fertility of the cosmos. The Eddaic poem För [sic] Scirnis depicts the Vanir god Freyr’s courtship of the giantess Gerðr, a bride who lives among the frost giants. Freyr’s eventual success signals the triumph of fertility over the frigidity of the giants, being associated with winter, the mountains, and lifelessness’ (55). ‘And Mikael Agricola’s sixteenth-century description of Finnish planting customs mentions a thunder god, Ukko, and his wife, Rauni, who also seem connected to the [hieros gamos] tradition there [in Finland]’ (56, with refs incl. one in English!).

Glosses mara as incubus. Interesting if right.

Saga-evidence for seiðr 123-8. Perhaps too credulous re Eiríks saga rauða etc. and doesn’t make it clear if the word seiðr is used for all instances. Hmm. But concludes ‘The various accounts of seiðr in these narratives thus combine to create a fairly consistent, if nebulous, overall picture of the tradition. The phenomenon appears to be composed on the one hand of concrete ritual practises performed in a specified manner by recognized specialists and on the other hand of complex interactions of spirits operating on an unseen, supernatural plane’ (128). ‘On the material plane, the accounts depict the predominant (but not total) association of the tradition with female practitioners…’ (128). But ‘unfamiliar, even exotic, to many in the community’ (128). Strong assoc with ‘Finns’ and their regions—practitioners thence, descended thence or trained by them (128-9). ‘If we hypothesise that the seiðr ritual practiced by Finno-Ugric and Scandinavian specialists in these saga accounts represents a borrowing from Sámi or Balto-Finnic religious traditions into Scandinavian ritual life (a conclusion reached by Dag Strömbäck in his authoritative study of the phenomenon), then we must assume first Scandinavian familiarity with the rituals of other Nordic peoples’ (129), ev in bans vs consulting “Finn” seers in C11 and 12 Borgarthings Kristenrett, and Eidsivathinglag.

‘The British Isles served as a major conduit for the passage of this knowledge northward to the Nordic peoples. At the same time, especially in the Nordic region itself, older native ideas of spirit loss and possession, characteristic of shamanism, underlay many approaches to disease. Health entailed not only the lack of disease but also the presence of luck, and it could be stolen by the ill will or machiinations of supernatural beings’ (94). Mentions C15 Nadhentals closters bok, Benedictine Convent at Naantali, Finland, (among) earliest scand medical tracts. ‘While the Finnic word for the sauna stove (kiaus) is probably an early loan, other terms associated with the tradition possess deeper Finno-Ugric roots. For instance, löyly—the term for sauna steam, personified in Finnish charms as a healing spirit—finds a counterpart in the Hungarian term for soul or life-force, lélek’ (100, ref seems to be in Finnish ). Much citing of *Brøndegaard, V. J. (ed.), Folk og flora: Dansk etnobotanik (Tønder, 1979).

‘The vulnerability of humans in relation to harmful spirits, typical of Finno-Ugric religion in general, is illustrated in many of the materials collected from Finns and Sámi in recent centuries. Finno-Ugric gods of disease like the Sámi Ruto or Finnish Loviatar required sacrifices, appeasement, or forceful banishment through charms in order to be controlled. Spirit intrusion served as the prime metaphor for infection by disease. Eighteenth-century records of Sámi views of smallpox show that Sámi refrained from speaking around people with the diseasem lest the dangerous male spirit of the disease (known as sueje) take an interest and plague them as well. Even at the turn of the twentieth century, such views persisted among traditional Sámi. According to the Sámi writers Johan and Per Turi, breathing in the odor of a dead body, too, could bring on fatal illness within two years of the mishap. Men could even be infected by pregnancy cravings (vuosmes) if they ate from the same bowl as a pregnant woman without first knowing of her condition. The Finnish custom of confining the ill to the sauna reflects a view toward disease similar to that of the Sámi’ (105).

Re verbal charm medicine using gibberish: ‘The concept of an ailment as a separable spiritual entity underlies all such methods’ (110). Eddaic refs to charms tho’ we have few actual charms (111). 5 refer to dealings with supernatural beings Grogaldr 14, Háv 155, 157, 159, 160, citing *Kuhn 1962, 43-4, and *Detter-Heinzel 1903, 186a, but these ain’t in bibl. . ‘This survey shows that the healing of ailments represented only one of the tasks for which magic was used in Viking-Age Scandinavia, figuring only in about 14 percent of the catalogued charms. Luck in battle represents a more pressing goal (roughly 28 percent), and manipulation of social relations also takes a greater share (26 percent). Supernatural beings figure in some way in 14 percent of the charms, while the remaining 14 percent provide assistance with the practical needs of everyday life’ (112). Biased ev of course, but at least it shows up potential biases in our OE material.

‘Outright condemnation of magic had been declared already in St. Augustine’s De doctrina christiana (c. 376-427)’ (115). I wonder how he words it? (*Edward Peters, The Magician, the Witch and the Law, 1978, 4-5).

du Bois, W. E. Burghardt, The Souls of Black Folk: Essays and Sketches (London: Longman, 1965), first publ. XXXXX 1903. If quoting you should probably check what the original publication for each of these was. 'The would be black savant was confronted by the paradox that the knowledge his people needed was a twice-told tale to his white neighbours, while the knowledge which would teach the white world was Greek to his own flesh and blood. The innate love of harmony and beauty that set the ruder souls of his people a-dancing and a-singing raised but confusion and doubt in the soul of the black artist; for the beauty revealed to him was the soul-beauty of a race which his larger audience despised, and he could not articulate the message of another people. This waste of double aims, this seeking to satisfy two unreconciled ideals, has wrought sad havoc [4] with the courage and faith and deeds of ten thousand thousand people, has sent them often wooing false gods and invoking false means of salvation, and at times has even seemed about to make them ashamed of themselves' (3–4)—false gods rhetoric eye-catching. Sturm und Drang ref p. 7. Not directly significant but perhaps indicates du Bois having this as part of his intellectual framework. 'Thus Negro suffrage ended a civil war by beginning a race feud. And some felt gratitude toward the race thus sacrificed in its swaddling clothes on the altar of national integrity; and some felt and feel only indifference and contempt' (25)--progressivist idea of race/black culture? 'It is easier to do ill than well in the world' (29). Ch. 5 'Of the Wings of Atlanta' particularly laced with Classical mythological references, to Atalanta and Hippomenes. Ch. 6 end: 'The function of the Negro college, then, is clear: it must maintain the standards of popular education, it must seek the social regeneration of the Negro, and it must help in the solution of problems of race contact and co-operation. And finally, beyond all this, it must develop men. Above our modern socialism, and out of the worship of the mass, must persist and evolve that higher individualism which the centres of culture protect; there must come a loftier respect for the sovereign human sould that seeks to know itself and the world about it; that seeks a freedom for expansion and self-development; that will love and hate and labour in its own way, untrammelled alike by old and new. Such souls aforetime have inspired and guided worlds, and if we be not wholly bewitched by our Rhinegold, they shall again. Herein the longing of black men must have respect: the rich and bitter depth of their experience, the unknown treasures of their inner life, the strange rendings of nature they have seen, may give the world new points of view and make their loving, living, and doing precious to all human hearts. And to themselves in these the days that try their souls, the chance to soar in the [69] dim blue air above the smoke is to their finer spirits boon and guerdon for what they lose on earth by being black. // I sit with Shakespeare and he winces not. Across the colour line I move arm in arm with Balzac and Dumas, where smiling men and welcoming women glide in gilded halls. From out the caves of evening that swing between the strong-limbed earth and the tracery of the stars, I summon Aristotle and Aurelius and what soul I will, and they come all graciously with no scorn nor condescension. So, wed with Truth, I dwell above the Veil. Is this the life you grude us, O knightly America? Is this the life you long to change into the dull and red hideousness of Georgia? Are you so afraid lest peering from this high Pisgah, between Philistine and Amalekite, we sight the Promise Land?' (68–69). Obviously a wide range of allusions, but Rhinegold and knightly references interesting.

*Du Boulay, F. R. H., Documents Illustrative of Medieval Kentish Society (Ashford: Kent Archaeological Society, 1964). 255 for elf-queen ref.

*Duby, Georges, something on marriage.

*Duby, Georges, ‘The Diffusion of Cultural Patterns in Feudal Society’, Past and Present, 39 (1968), 1–10

Duggan, Hoyt N. and Thorlac Turville-Petre (eds), The Wars of Alexander, Early English Text Society, s.s. 10 (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1989)

Dumézil, Georges, Gods of the Ancient Northmen, ed. by Einar Haugen, Publications of the UCLA Center for the Study of Comparative Folklore and Mythology, 3 (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1973a). Originally published as Les Dieux des Germains (XXXX: Presses Universitaires de France, 1959). 3–25 re æsir and Vanir. 11–16 rightly disses idea that the war is Historical. But the other stuff didn’t do much for me.

Dumézil, Georges, From Myth to Fiction: The Saga of Hadingus, trans. by Derek Coltman (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1973b); originally Du mythe au roman: La Saga de Hadingus et autres assais (XXXX: Presses Universitaires de France, 1970)/Dumézil, G., La saga de Hadingus (Saxo Grammaticus I, v–viii): du mythe au roman, Bibliothèque de l’Ecole des Hautes Études, section des sciences religieuses, 66 (Paris, 1953). 'The case of the Scandinavian nations is somewhat different: on the one hand the pre-Christian texts that we still read, the Scaldic or [x] Eddic poems, have preserved much of this area's mythology in its original form; on the other, a very talented and well-informed Christian Icelander has completed our pre-Christian documentation with two systematic treatises on the subject' (ix-x)--striking encapsulation of the old view of Snorri! The treatises in question being those of Snorra Edda? Ynglinga saga is listed separately. 'The Saga of Hadingus, published in 1953 in the Bibliothèque de l'Ecole des Hautes Etudes, Section des Sciences Religieuses (vol. 66), contains the material of one of the two courses I taught in my first year at the Collège de France in 1949-50. I hope to have proved that in [xii] order to provide a content [sic] for the reign of Hadingus, grandson of Scioldus, in other words the third legendary king of the Danish Skjöldungar dynasty, Saxo simply reworked, though in great detail and encountering difficulties in the process that he resolves with a greater or lesser degree of skill, a Scandinavian account of the career of the god Njörðr, whom Snorri Sturluson, retaining his name, made into the second ancestor of the Swedish Ynglingar dynasty' (xi-xii). Ch. 6 'The first mythological digression: giants, Ase gods, and Vane gods', pp. 77-92. Saxo's account of Hadingus shagging Harthgrepa apprently unique in that it involves some 'hint of incest'

Dumville, David N., ‘Ekiurid’s Celtica lingua: An Ethnological Difficulty in Waltharius’, Cambridge Medieval Celtic Studies, 6 (1983), 87–94.

Dumville, David, 'An Early Text of Geoffrey of Monmouth's Historia Regum Britanniae and the Circulation of Some Latin Histories in Twelfth-Century Normandy', Arthurian Literature, 4 (1985), 1--33 (repr. in David N. Dumville, Histories and Pseudo-Histories of the Insular Middle Ages (Aldershot: Variorum, 1990), ch. 14. 'It is now common ground among students of Geoffrey of Monmouth that the textual history of his Historia Regum Britanniae remains quite unknown' (1), with further details 1-2, including the problem of sampling only a prologue which turns out to have a different textual history from the body of the text.

Dumville, David N., ‘English Square Minuscule Script: The Mid-Century Phases’, Anglo-Saxon England, 23 (1994), 133–64.

Dumville, David D., ‘A Thesaurus Palaeoanglicus? The Celtic Experience’, in Anglo-Saxon Glossography: Papers Read at the International Conference Held in the Koninklijke Academie voor Wetenschappen Letteren en Schone Kunsten van België, Brussels, 8 and 9 Sepetember 1986, ed. by R. Derolez (Brussels, 1992), pp. 59-76. Problems with Stokes-Strachen Irish glosses ed. re lack of context, may have lemmata wrong, etc. Purely Latin glosses ignored (63-65).

Dumville, David, Liturgy and the Ecclesiastical History of Late Anglo-Saxon England: Four Studies, Cambridge Studies in Anglo-Saxon England, 5 (Woodbridge, 1992). BORING.

Durantil, Alessandro, Linguistic Anthropology (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1997)

Dyas, Dee, Images of Faith in English Literature 700–1500: An Introduction (London: Longman, 1997). Compares BWf with Glc (A—though not explicitly) 21–26. ‘Beowulf, for all his virtues, belonged to an era which had not, in Christian eyes, received the full revelation of God. When Beowulf is contrasted not with the men of his own time but with the new heroes of the Christian age, his flaws become apparent. His courage may be praiseworthy but his motivation is secular and his chief concern is his own reputation rather than the glory of God. This becomes clear when he is set alongside a fully-fledged Christian hero, St Guthlac…’ (22); ‘Guthlac, however, is a hero of a quite different type. He had renounced the use of earthly weapons and fends off his assailants with a quiet confidence [?!] to which Beowulf never aspires. Beowulf is proud of his courage and strength yet cannot predict the outcome of his encounter with Grendel. He lacks the inner certainty of God’s protection which characterises Guthlac throught: …’ (23).

E

Eagleton, Terry, Ideology: An Introduction (London: Verso, 1991).

'A poem by Thom Gunn speaks of a German conscript in the Second World War who risked his life helping Jews to escape the fate in store for them at the hands of the Nazis:
I know he had unusual eyes,
Whose power no orders could determine,
Not to mistake the men he saw,
As others did, for gods or vermin.
What persuades men and women to mistake each other from time to time for gods or vermin is ideology.'

Eamon, William, Science and the Secrets of Nature: Books of Secrets in Medieval and Early Modern Culture (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1994)

Earl, James W., ‘The Role of the Men’s Hall in the Development of the Anglo-Saxon Superego’, Psychiatry, 46 (1983), 139–60. Not exactly pants but too broad to be reliable or useful.

Eckert, Stine and Linda Steiner, 'Wikipedia's Gender Gap', in Media Disparity: A Gender Battleground, ed. by Cory L. Armstrong (Lanham: Lexington, 2013), pp. 87--98. Based on a small, qualitative analysis of men and women readers and contributors; somewhat handy survey of secondary lit on Wikipedia gender disparity.

*Edsman, Carl-Martin (ed.), Studies in Shamanism: A Symposium (Stockholm, 1967). App. good stuff on wider Gmc. ideas of shots etc. c. pp. 130, 141-2.

Edwards, A. S. G., ‘Manuscripts and Readers’, in A Companion to Medieval English Literature and Culture c. 1350–c. 1500, ed. by Peter Brown, Blackwell Companions to Literature and Culture, 42 (Oxford: Blackwell, 2007), pp. 93–106

Edwards, Cyril, ‘Heinrich von Morungen and the Fairy-Mistress Theme’, in Celtic and Germanic Themes in European Literature, ed. by Neil Thomas (Lewiston, N. Y.: Mellen, 1994), pp. 13–30. ‘Such early references as there are to elves are infrequent, permitting no clearly defined picture to emerge’ (16, re German elf-evidence—worth citing on this point?).

Edwards, Cyril. 2002. ‘La3amon’s Elves.” In La3amon: Contexts, Language, and Interpretation, ed. by Rosamund Allen, Lucy Perry and Jane Roberts, 79–96. King’s College London Medieval Studies 19. London: King’s College London Centre for Late Antique and Medieval Studies.

Edwards, Cyril, ‘The Elf, the Witch and the Devil: Lexical and Conceptual Shape-Shifting in Medieval and Early Modern Europe’, in Mapping the Threshold: Essays in Liminal Analysis, ed. by Nancy Bredendick, Studies in Liminality and Literature, 4 (Madrid: The Gateway Press, 2004), pp. 115–34.

*Edwards, Gillian, Hobgoblin and Sweet Puck: Fairy Names and Natures (London, 1974)

*Edwards, Kathryn A., ‘Introduction: Expanding the Analysis of Traditional Belief’, in Werewolves, Witches, and Wandering Spirits: Traditional Belief & Folklore in Early Modern Europe, ed. by Kathryn A. Edwards, Sixteenth Century Essays and Studies, 62 (Kirksville, Missouri: Truman State University Press, 2002), pp.vii–xxii

Egill Helgason, `Huldufólkið, lundinn og þjóðarímyndin' (23 December 2013), http://eyjan.pressan.is/silfuregils/2013/12/23/huldufolkid-lundinn-og-thjodarimyndin.

Effros, Bonnie, ‘Skeletal Sex and Gender in Merovingian Mortuary Archaeology’, Antiquity, 74 (2000), 632–39 [T468.b.31]

Ehwald, Rvdolfvs [Rvdolfvs in text; style?XXXX] (ed.), Aldhelmi Opera, Monumenta Germanicae Historica, Auctorum Antiquissorum, 15, 3 vols (Berlin, 1919). Accessed from http://www.dmgh.de/. Continuous numbering. [History qFF 22 SCR]. i 142 XCV. Scilla.

Ecce, molosorum nomen mihi fata dederunt

(Argolicae gentis sic promit lingua loquelis),

Ex quo me dirae fallebant carmina Circae,

Quae fontis liquidi maculabat flumina verbis:

Femora cum cruribus, suras cum poplite bino

Abstulit immiscens crudelis verba virago.

Pignora nunc pavidi referunt ululantia nautae,

Tonsis dum trudunt classes et caerula findunt

Vastos verrentes fluctus grassante procella,

Palmula qua remis succurrit panda per undas,

Auscultare procul, quae latrant inguina circum.

Sic me pellexit dudum Titania proles,

Ut merito vivam salsis in fluctibus exul.

i 144 XCVIII. Elleborus.

Ostriger en arvo vernabam frondibus hirtis

Conquilio similis: sic cocci murice rubro

Purpureus stillat sanguis de palmite guttis.

Exuvias vitae mandenti tollere nolo

Mitia nec penitus spoliabunt mente venena;

Sed tamen insanum vext dementia cordis,

Dum rotat in giro vecors vertigine membra.

The relevant passage from the preface to the Enigmata (lines 10–13; ed. Ehwald 1919, i 98), with its artful matching of the first and last letter of each line, runs:

Einar G. Pétursson, 'Um álfatrú á Íslandi og í Færeyjum og einkum um söguna af Álfa-Árna', in Frændafundur 5: Fyrirlestrar frá íslensk-færeyskri ráðstefnu í Reykjavík 19.--20. júní 2004/Fyrilestrar frá íslendsk-føroyskari ráðstevnu í Rreykjavík [sic] 19.--20. júni 2004, ed. by Magnús Snædal and Anfinnur Johansen (Reykjavík: Háskólaútgáfan, 2005), pp. 28--38. All about C18-19 material: no doubt interesting, but not for my present purposes.

Einar Már Guðmundsson, Hvíta bókin (Reykjavík: Mál og Menning, 2009).

Einar Már Guðmundsson, `A War Cry From the North', XXXXX February 23, 2009, http://www.counterpunch.org/2009/02/23/a-war-cry-from-the-north/.

Einar Már Guðmundsson, Bankastræti núll (Reykjavík: Mál og Menning, 2011). 'Í vitundinni tengist það undirheimum, kulda, kynlífi, forvitni, bannhelgi, undarlegum manni í hvítum sloppi, áfengislykt, smokkum og hlandi, blóðhlaunum augum, rónum að pissa' (27). Draumaveröld 16 (Noddy's home). Re Rannsóknarskýrsla Alþingis, useful statement on how realism can't actually accommodate the real and effectively serves to draw a curtain across events it can't comprehend, by turns suppressing or normalising them: 'Í bókarformi rauk hún strax í efsta sæti metsölulistans, enda mál manna að hún slái flestum glæpasögum við; og þó hún fjalli um flókna fjármálagjörninga er hún skrifuð á mannamáli, blátt áfram og læsileg. Kannski mun framtíðin líta á hana sem bókmenntaverk, jafnvel afrek á því sviði. Meira að segja má lesa trega og sorg nefndarmanna á milli lína. Á Íslandi er veruleikinn einsog nýtt bókmenntaform. Hann slær öll skáldskapum við. Öfgafullir súrrealistar hljóma einsog raunsæjar kellingar, glæpasögur einsog vögguvísur og furðusögur hafa ekkert í ímynduarafl útrásarvíkinganna að gera' (34). 35-36 Eyjafjallajökull as brilliant, Diabolically provided rescue mission to distract the public from the report just days after it came out. 36-37 Iceland as drug/alcohol addict. Rebels of '68: 'Andlegar rætur uppreisnanna teygja sig langt aftur í tímann, til ótal baráttuhreyfinga og líka súrrealismans í skáldskap og listum, samanber kröfuna um að vera raunsær og framkvæma hið ómöguleika' (100). 'Um leið trúir margt af þessu málsmetandi fólki úr menningarlífinu að menning og listir, ekki síst bókmenntir, hafi borið hróður okkar um heiminn og fátt sé betur fallið til að laga laskaðan orðstír eftir að fjármálafurstar hafa riðið um héruð og skilið eftir sig sviðna jörð' (111). Concept of ísbjarnarraunsæi 149 (i.e. self-conscious, ironic reference to borealising attitudes to Icelandic fiction, deployed in a discussion that has referenced magical realism)--useful concept... 'Kaupthinking. Að hugsa til að kaupa eða kaupa til að hugsa, þar var efinn, stóra spurningin í lífi þessara manna sem virðast hálfpartinn hafa týnt sér í öllum þessum fjármálagjörningum, en ef þetta hefði verið listaverk hefðu þeir sjálfsagt fengið Óskarsverðlaunin eða verið sendir á Feneyjatvíæringinn' (152). 'En ef allt var í boði bankanna, voru þá ekki hin gömlu heit um að listamennirnir virði ekkert nema listsköpun sína, séu trúir verkum sínum, hálfhjákátleg? Eða breytti það í sjálfu sér nokkuð verkunum?' (154).

Einar Már Guðmundsson, Íslenskir kóngar XXXXXX

Einar Már Guðmundsson, 'Prologue: Some Poetic Thoughts Concerning Meltdown', in Gambling Debt: Iceland’s Rise and Fall in the Global Economy, ed. by E. Paul Durrenberger and Gisli Palsson (Boulder: University Press of Colorado, 2015), pp. xxxi-xlii. DOI: 10.5876/9781607323358.c000.

Einar Ól. Sveinsson, Verzeichnis isländischer Märchenvarianten mit einer Einleitenden Untersuchung, FF Communications, 83 (Helsinki: Suomalainen Tiedeakatemia, 1929) Anthropology A-0.02 FFC FF Communications nos. 78, 79, 80, 81, 83 bound together in volume with spine title: Märchen Register. Volume contents: 1. Schullerus, S.: Verzeichnis der rumänischen Märchen und Märchenvarianten. 1928. -- 2. Scheiner, A.: Adolf Schullerus. 1928. -- Kügler, H.: Adolf Schullerus zum Gedächtnis. -- 4. Honti, H.: Verzeichnis der Publizierten ungarischen Volksmärchen. 1928. -- 5. Sveinsson, E.: Verzeichnis isländischer Märchenvarianten. 1929.
876*. I A: Ein König wird von der Königin betrogen, B: er verstösst sie, B1: tötet sie; C: seitdem nimmt er jeweils für eine bestimmte Zeit Fürstentöchter zu sich, tötet sie aber hinterher. D: Ein Kaisersohn nimmt für eine Zeitlang zu sich Fürstentöchter als Konkubinen, verstösst sie dann aber wieder. — II A: Eine Prinzessin wird vorsichtshalber in ihrer Jugend in ein Erdhaus gesperrt. B: Schliesslich wird sie dessen überdrüssig, und der Vater muss nachgeben und ihr ein Frauenhaus bauen. C: Der Kaisersohn (König I A) hört von ihr, besucht ihren Vater, D: will durchaus bei ihr schlafen, E: sie lädt ihn eines Abends in das Frauenhaus ein, F: sticht ihn mit einem Schlafdorn, F1: gibt ihm einen Schlaftrunk, G: rasiert ihm das Haar ab, bestreicht ihm den Kopf mit Teer, H: legt ihn in eine Kiste, schickt diese zum Kaiser, I: legt ihn in einen Sack, lässt diesen aufs Schiff tragen; mitten auf dem Meere öffnen die Schiffsleute den Sack, finden dort den König; es sitzen Eisenstacheln in seinem Fleisch. J: Der Kaiser öffnet die Kiste, findet den Sohn darin. — III A: Der Kaisersohn will sich rächen, B: lässt einen Stuhl in einem prächtigern Saal machen, der Stuhl ist mitStacheln besetzt; C: er zieht mit einer Flotte zu dem Kleinkönig, dieser muss seine Tochter ausliefern. D: Die Prinzessin besucht den Kaisersohn. E: Durch ihre Entschlossenheit gelingt es ihr, den Kaisersohn zu veranlassen, sich selber auf den Stuhl zu setzen, darauf schliesst sie den Saal ab und fährt wieder nach Hause. F: Nachdem der Kaisersohn lange gejammert [131] hat, wird er befreit; G: er ist sehr krank, H: viele Ärtze wollen ihm helfen, aber vergebens; I: jeder, dem es misslingt, wird hingerichtet und sein Haupt auf einer Stange aufgespiesst. — IV A: Also Arzt verkleidet kommt die Prinzessin, B: sie heilt ihn, indem sie ihm — C1: eine Pferdehaut, C2: Ochsenhaut umlegt. D: Dafür verspricht der aiser (König), dem Arzt Frieden zu Schenken, wo er ihn auch treffe oder wer auch der Feind sei, wenn der Arzt nur darum bitte (Friedensfahne, -schild). E: Sie wollen den Arzt auf die Probe stellen, ob er wirklich der sei, für den er such ausgebe, F: indem sue ihn zum Fallen bringen, G: wollen mit ihm baden—er entkommt duch List.—V A: Der Kaiser (und sein Sohn) ziehen auf Kriegsfahrt aus. B: Auf einer Insel trifft er die Prinzessin, die ihre Identität mit dem Arzt beweist, sie versöhnen sich. C: Er kämpft gegen den Vater der Prinzessinm der Arzt kommt und bittet um Frieden für ihn. D: Der Arzt ist die Königstochter. E: Der Kaisersohn hält in Ehren um sie an, F: sie heiraten. // 1) Rang. (Jón Sigurðsson, Steinum, nach seiner Mutter Sesselja Jónsdóttir). Lbs. 421, 8vo (S. 309). "Sagan af Artusi grimma" I ABC — II ABCDEF1I — III GHI — IV ABC1D — V ABEF. // 2) Rang. (Páll Pálsson, Árkvörn, nach Guðríður Eyjólfsdóttir). Lbs 536, 4to — Ritt. 205. I D — II ABCDF1HJ — III ABDEFGH — IV ABC2DEFG — V ACDEF. // 3) Árn. (Brynjólfur Jónsson, Minnanúpi). Lbs. 542, 4to "Sagan af keisarasyninum kvensama:" I D — II CEFGHJ — III ABCEFGH — IV ABC1D — V ACDEF' (130–131). [I didn't find it in the MS on these pp. but rather on 165-68.]

Einar Ól. Sveinsson and Matthías Þórðarson (eds), Eyrbyggja saga, Brands þáttr Ǫrva, Eiríks saga rauða, Grœnlendinga saga, Grœnlendinga þáttr, Íslenzk fornrit, 4 (Reyjkjavík: Hið Íslenzka Fornritfélag, 1935).

Einar Ól. Sveinsson, Studies in the Manuscript Tradition of Njálssaga, Studia Islandica/Íslenzk fræði, 13 (Reykjavík: Leiftur; Copenhagen: Munksgaard, 1953). Njála scribes tend to be conservative: 'As for their sense of freedom towards the text, I think it was perhaps not so marked in our Saga as it seems to have been in the textual transmission of many other [16] Old Icelandic works. The variants in the manuscript show that. The author of Njálssaga is no doubt one of the greatest masters of Icelandic prose style, of all ages, and certainly the scribes felt his excellence. Their way of treating the text seems to show more respect for it than is generally the case with our scribes in those times' (15-16). 27-29 on conflated MSS, emphing that while one might switch exemplars, there's little evidence in the Njála tradition for conflation of two texts--but then, as p. 28 emphasises, why would you when the MSS are all pretty similar anyway?38-39 implicitly accepts need for sampling but insists on looking throughout each MS because of the possibility of switching exemplar.

Einar Ól. Sveinsson (ed.), Brennu-Njáls saga, Íslenzk fornrit, 12 (Reykjavík: Hið íslenzka fornritafélag, 1954).

Einar Ól. Sveinsson, ‘Celtic Elements in Icelandic Tradition’, Béaloideas: The Journal of the Folklore Society of Ireland, 25 (1957), 3–24.

Einar Ól. Sveinsson. 1962. Íslenzkar Bókmenntir í Fornöld. XXXX

Einar Ól. Sveinsson, 'Viktors saga ok Blávus: Sources and Characteristics', in Viktors saga ok Blávus, ed. by Jónas Kristjánsson, Riddarasögur, 2 (Reykjavík: Handritastofnun Íslands, 1964), pp. cix–ccix. Re simls between Gibbons and Viktors, 'In Gibbons saga we are told that Florentia, the maiden queen of India, has sworn to marry that man alone who should defeat her coast-guard (landvarnarmaðr) Eskopart in single combat and surpass her herself in harp-playing. Suitors who cannot meet these conditions are hanged from pillars in her tower; there are twenty pillars, and fifteen princes have already been hanged. (A similar practice [Q421.1] is referred to in Sigrgarðs saga)' (cxxxi).
'In Sigrgarðs saga frækna [small caps] we have still another saga with many resemblances to Viktors saga. The only edition of this saga (by Einar Þórðarson, Reykjavík, 1884) is based on a text about the authenticity of which I know only little but which in all likelihood is unreliable. This should be borne in mind, since it may make all our conclusions doubtful'—good caution, and actually of course that edn does turn out to be highly innovative; but also still pretty representative (cxxxviii). 'The main matter of the saga is derived from a not uninteresting tale of enchantment (álög)'—I like that description—'but into the early part of the story are inserted some episodes that are close to the main plot of Viktors saga' (cxxxviii). S. 'has two sworn brothers, the sons of the farmer Gjóstólfr, but their adventures together have no connection with Viktors saga (being ultimately derived from Bósa saga)'—follow up (cxxxviii). Re Sigrgarðr's womanising, 'It may be remarked at once that in this saga the author strikes a certain balance in his allotment of sympathy to the prince and the maiden queen, or even seems to want to show that she has more to excuse her than he does' (cxxxviii); the motif of the prince who takes temporary wives also in Icelandic folktales (citing FFC 83, no *876); the section of the younger Mágus saga called Geirarðs þáttr ('which is indoubtedly [cxxxix] older than Sigrgarðs saga') has King Priam of the Saracens (ch. 71, cf. Geirarðs rímur, III, 9–12); cf. also traditions of Earl Hákon and Saxo's story of the sons of Vestmarus (Gesta Danorum V.i) (cxxxviii–cxxxix). cxl n. 1, re curse, 'This is apparently the earliest instance of the "life-egg" in Icelandic literature. It occurs next in Sveins rímur Múkssonar (Rit Rímnafélagsins, I, 159, 165, lxxx–lxxxi), the younger Bósa saga (Jiriczeks edition, p. 108 f.; Icelandic J-3.1 BOS), Ólands saga (chs. 134 and 168), and then in the folk-tales of the 19th century (see JÁ³, VI, 273 s.v. fjöregg). A "life-stone" (fjörsteinn) is mentioned in the tale of Ásmundr flagðagæfa (JÁ³, 164; cf. V, 45–9)' (cxl). Sees saga as based on a 'folk-tale': 'Everything we have been told of Ingigerðr up to this point derives from the folk-tale that supplies the main matter of the saga. The author seizes upon the motif of the magic spell as a means of making Ingigerðr's actions involuntary, thereby giving depth to his story. By making the spell account for her hatred of her suitors he provides the necessary link between the folk-tale and the plot of Viktors saga' (cxl). Hmm, fair enough; is it so unambiguously a way of letting Ingigerðr off the hook? Depth of different sort? Folk-tale again: 'His third journey is quite different; he now goes as a soldier. On the way he kills a viking names Knútr, puts on his armour, and assumes his identity. Various other adventures with which he meets on the outward journey are part of the folk-tale' (cxliii). cxliii fn 1: 'The description of the drawbacks of the palace where Sigrgarðr and his companions spend the winter recalls a passage in Hrólfs saga kraka, ch.40 ... cf. Bevers saga, ch. 11 (FSS, p. 224, the arrows of steel)' (cxliii). 'Considering how closely Sigrgarðr's first two journeys resemble that of Viktor, and further that the flying cloth is not found in Klárus saga or other variants of the King Thrushbeard märchen (FFC 184, no. 900), it is evident that this part of Sigrgarðs saga is more closely related to Viktors saga than to any other source. Considering further the career of the name of the merchant: Samarien (Elis saga) > Samarion (Viktors saga) > Jónar (Sigrgarðs saga)—it seems highly probable that Viktors saga provided [cxliv] the model for this portion of Sigrgarðs saga.[fn 1 'In Blávus rímur Samarion is sometimes called Jón, sometimes Samarjón or Sámarjón, which can be regarded as an intermediate stage in the development'] Perhaps the author of Sigrgarðs saga had heard some oraltales in which much was made of the arrogance and amorous propensities of the prince (cf. the Icelandic folk-tale FFC 83, no *876); this would account for the chief differences between the two sagas. // It may be mentioned here that the influence of the romantic style is hardly noticeable in Sigrgarðs saga; it diction is most nearly like that of the Heroic Sagas and rather on the plain side, but actually the unreliability of the published text makes any such judgment far from safe. Here and there fine objects are described not unskilfully, but there is less of thata here than in many other sagas of the time' (cxlliii–cxliv). 'In addition to the motifs discussed so far, Viktors saga contains a variety of other motifs. While it is conceivable that some of these could be traced to particular written works, the majority almost certainly can not. Others may be derived from oral tales, but hardly very many. (The case is different with Sigrgarðs saga frœkna, Ála flekks [clxxiv] saga, and, in part, Vilhjálms saga sjóðs.)' (clxxiii–clxxiv). clxxx–cc useful stuff on style of Viktors saga and implictly of romances generally.
Re Matter of Britain 'Celtic themes, especially Irish ones, oppear [sic] in Ála flekks saga, Sigrgarðs saga frœkna, and parts of Vilhjálms saga sjóðs, but there is reason to keep these separate from the "British" subjects' (ccvii). Not sure what Einar is thinking of here (Branwen parallel? Melsnati?)—check his 1957 article? '...the world that the author of Rémundar saga is trying to reveal to his reader is a bright one, and the style of this saga, and many others as well, shows conscious refinement. // Above I have spoken of the classical saga style as a product of the culture of the Old icelandic Commonwealth. The new style that comes into existence in Icelandic sagas about the middle of the 14th century must also somehow be rooted in the society of the time. No doubt the powerful clergy has something to do with the matter. But one might ask whether the new style is not above all intended to please the taste of the nobility that is coming into being at this time—the nobility of governors and prefects, of the great landholders and the owners of fishing stations, who grow rich through the rise of new markets and are already foreshadowing the aristocratic oligarchy of the 15th century and who, while amassing wealth, support the arts of the Church, collect precious objects and fine books, and dream in their own fashion of beauty and refinement' (ccviii)—nice statement of what these texts are up to.
Cites Gustaf Cederschiöld, Fornaldarsögur Suðrlanda preface on style and Finnur Jónsson, Litt. Hist² III 116 re Sigrgarðs—check out (could be Icelandic B-0.31 JON, 3 vols).

Einar Ól. Sveinsson, ‘Kormakr the Poet and his Verses’, Saga-Book of the Viking Society, 17 (1966–69), 18–60. Basically argues that verses are indeed C10 in saga; but doesn’t study non-saga verses as in drápa on Sigurðr of Hlaðir Hákons saga ins góða 14. Didn’t read too closely I must admit.

Einar Ól. Sveinsson, Löng er för: Þrír þættir um írskar og íslenzkar sögur og kvæði, Studia Islandica, 34 (Reykjavík: Bókaútgáfa Menningarsjóðs, 1975)

Einar Ólafur Sveinsson, The Folk Stories of Iceland, rev. by Einar G. Pétursson, trans. by Benedikt Benedikz, ed. by Anthony Faulkes, Viking Society for Northern Research Text Series, 16 (London: Viking Society for Northern Research, 2003), accessible from http://vsnrweb-publications.org.uk/. 'Sigrgarðs saga frœkna is a stepmother story in which a life-egg also appears; it is clearly based on stories which had been around in Iceland for a long time. There is generally no doubt that there are numerous wonder-tales embedded in sagas like these, which were all composed in Iceland in the fourteenth or fifteenth centuries, and from then on there was no danger of their being transformed and accepted into folk-belief' not sure what the point is in the latter bit, but interesting to have his views on dating anyway (235).

[Einar Þorðarson (ed.),] Sagan af Sigrgarði frækna (Reykjavík: Prentsmiðja Einars Þorðarsonar, 1884)

*Ekwall, Eilert, Contributions to the History of Old English Dialects (Lund, 1917). ‘Epoch making’ study of ælC and Anglian/Southern dialects.

Ekwall, Eilert, The Place-Names of Lancashire, Publications of the University of Manchester, 11 (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1922).

Ekwall, Eilert, The Concise Oxford Dictionary of English Place-Names, 4th ed. (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1960)

El-Cheikh, Nadia Maria, Byzantium Viewed by the Arabs, Harvard Middle Eastern Monographs, 36 (Cambridge, MA: Center for Middle Eastern Studies of Harvard University, 2004). Discusses views of Byzantine women pp. 123-29. 'The Arab Muslim writers do not depict the Byzantines as individuals, neither in their physical appearance nor in their character. In general, the privilege of meeting men and women from the other camp was relatively rare. Thus, the knowledge that the authors of these texts have of the Byzantines is rarely personal and most often indirect. Consequently, Homo Byzantinus does not appear as a three-dimensional character, and whenever he is al[123]lowed direct speech, he is expressing the thoughts, assumptions, and prejudices of the Arab Muslim narrator. The latter's object was to contrast Byzantine with Muslim behaviour to affirm the superiority of the latter. As foils, the Byzantines are often given negative attributes and are depicted as behaving unnaturally and sometimes even perversely. Such preconceptions are seedbeds for the stereotypes by which differences are exaggerated. This is particularly the case in our texts' description of women and sexual relations.' (122-23) Real-life acquaintance with Byzantine women mostly via slave-women and associated concubinage (123). 'In time, certain conventional descriptions emerged to become common stereotypes. One quality that the Arab Muslims inevi[124]tably assigned to the Byzantines was beauty. Ṣāʿid al-Andalusī states that the king of Rūm is called the king of men because, among all human beings, his subjects have the most beautiful faces, the most well-proportioned physiques, and the most vigorous constitutions.[citing his ṭabaqāt al-umam, 13] This characteristic, beauty, is associated with Byzantine women in particular. / Byzantine women are described as being white-complexioned blondes, with straight hair and blue eyes.' (123-24). These ideas already seem to circulate in the time of the Prophet, and clearly through into C13 (124). 'These glowing reports of the beauty of Byzantine women tend to disparage the women of the subject culture -- that is, the Arab Muslim women. The evident emphasis on the attraction of Byzantine women indirectly suggests that local beauty was less perfect. Yet the very presence of this beauty on the other side of the frontier -- and, thus, at relatively close proximity -- had the potential to threaten the harmony of the male-[125]centered universe.' (124-25). Fear of femmes fatales tempting men, etc. 'Our sources show not Byzantine women but writers' images of these women, who served as symbols of the eternal female -- constantly a potential threat, particularly due to blatant exaggerations of their sexual promiscuity. / In our texts, Byzantine women are strongly associated with sexual immorality; so much so that it is difficult to unearth historical evidence of their daily routines and individual achievements' (125). Some material on sources arguing that Byzantine women are more shameless passionate, libidinous, prone to adultery because they don't have female circumcision + lack of veiling (characterisations which don't bear any obvious relation to evidence for actual Byzantine norms of behaviour) (125-28). 'Such anecdotes are clearly far from Byzantine reality and must be recognized for what they are: attempts to denigrate and defame a rival culture through their exaggeration of the laxity with which Byzantine culture dealt with its women.' 'The entire body of writing on Byzantine women seems to reflect Muslim fears of uncontrolled sexual activity ... The views presented of Byzantine women are indicators of a widespread internal concern' (128).

* Eliade Images and Symbols 1969. 39–56 app. re space and stuff.

*Eliade, M., The Forge and the Crucible, trans. by S. Corrin (New York, 1971).

*Eliason, Norman E., ‘The “Thyth-Offa Digression” in Beowulf’, in Franciplegius: Medieval and Linguistic Studies in Honor of Francis Peabody Magoun, Jr., ed. by Jess B. Bessinger, Jr., and Robert P. Creed (New York, 1965), pp. 124–38. Seems to think that Thryth and Hygd may be the same character. Interesting. Might have good refs too?

Ellard, Donna Beth, Anglo-Saxon(ist) Pasts, Postsaxon Futures (Earth, Milky Way: Punctum, 2019).

**Ellekilde, Hans, ‘Om Álfhildsagnet i Hervararsaga’, Acta Philologica scandinavicaXXXX, 8 (1933), 182-92.

Elliot, R. W. V., Runes, an Introduction, 2nd edn (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1989), pp. 133-34.

Ellis, Hilda Roderick, The Road to Hel: A Study of the Conception of the Dead in Old Norse Literature (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press). [Edinburgh .293 Dav] ‘The evidence certainly seems to suggest that the guardian Valkyries, the guardian hamingjur of the family and the guardian dísir are one and the same conception’ (135). Easily extended to scary nasty valkyries too. Assocs dísir and elves 137.

Ellis Davidson, Hilda R., ‘The Hill of the Dragon: Anglo-Saxon Burial Mounds in Literature and Archaeology’, Folk-Lore, 61 (1950), 169-85 [ed. main lib. SERIALS per. .39 fol.]. 169-71 surveys some A-S barrow-burials—White-horse Hill, Berks; Uncleby, Yorks (both old mound with multiple 2ndry burials); Lowbury Hill, Berks, Broomfield, essex, Sutton Hoo; mounds near Salibury and Bourne Park, Canterbury. Discusses problem of lack of body at Sutton Hoo and relevant material 171-2. ‘There are also suggestions of funeral ritual. The Bourne Park grave had little recesses at the corners containing seed and the bones of mice (perhaps attracted by it), recalling prohibitions in the Anglo-Saxon penitentials against burning seed near the dead [B. Thorpe, ancient Laws and Institutes of England, Penit. Theod. Arch. Canter. 15 Confess. Eegbert. [sic] Arch, Ebor. 32], and other examples from the cemeteries’ (173). ‘Only a small number of mounds of any size have survived into our time, but we gain some idea of how many have been lost from the work of Kemble on Anglo-Saxon boundary charters [Arch. Journ. XIV, 1857, p. 119f.]’ (173). 174 notes Norse ev. re barrows as title deed – if you can show descent from the guy in the barrow, it’s yours. cf. A-S practise of remembering the nam of the guy in the mound. ‘In the Norse sagas a king claiming his inheritance might do so by sitting on his father’s burial mound, and in some cases the king dispensed his royal power by sitting upon a grave-mound [‘I have discussed these passages in The Road to Hel, p. 105f.’]’ (174). ‘It seems likely, from the frequent references in the boundary charters, that the same custom prevailed among the Anglo-Saxons at one time. Two instances from the Book of Llandaff where the Welsh king makes [175] over land whil sitting or lying on the tomb of a former king certainly suggests something like it in Wales’ (174-5). Later use of mounds for public assemblies (175). Early Xian churches on or by burial mounds – Taplow by church, ‘Under Fimber church in Yorkshire Mortimer discovered that an earlier building, destroyed by fire, had stood upon an atificial mound containing skeletons which was almost certainly a barrow’ (175). Ludlow (175) (according to Leland). Jelling in Denmark – church between barrows (175-6).

‘Another proof of the sancitity of burial mounds is shown by the fact that saints might choose them for dwelling-places. A clear indication of this is given by the Anglo-Saxon Life of St. Guthlac’ (176). Quotes the description of demons; ‘Something in this picture may be due to the conventional attributes of devils from Hell, but I believe something is also due to the pagan tradition of the dead in the grave-mound, and that these creatures are its inhabitants; it would then not be surprising to find, as we do later, that they are heard by Guðlac speaking Welsh, since the inhabitants of an ancient burial mound might be expected to use the language of the earlier race. It is interesting to find, moreover, that in spite of Guðlac’s sufferings he is much envied, and a priest actually tries to kill him so that he can dwell in the mound in his stead. There seems to be little doubt that a man who could keep his place upon the mound would be held in reverence and expected to possess special powers; that he would in fact be the Christian successor of those pagan seers who sat upon mounds for inspiration’ (177). 177-82 re dragons.

Ellis Davidson, H. R., ‘The Smith and the Goddess: Two Figures on the Frank Casket from Auzon’, Frühmittelalterliche Studien, 3 (1969), 215–26. Compares with Gotland picture-stones and Oseberg tapestry 215. Take rh panel weird monster to be herh-os on sorrow mound (219).

Ellis Davidson, Hilda, The Sword in Anglo-Saxon England: Its Archaeology and Literature, corr. repr. (Cambridge: Boydell, 1994) [first publ. 1962)

*Ellis Davidson, H. R., ‘Hostile Magic in the Icelandic Sagas’, in The Witch Figure: Folklore Essays by a Group of Scholars in England Honouring the 75th Birthday of Katharine M. Briggs, ed. by Venetia Newall (London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1973), pp. 20–41. Survey of different purposes of magic, e.g. hiding from pursuit, shape-changing, predicting batte outcome, killing. Not very exciting otherwise.

Ellis Davidson (ed.) and Peter Fisher (trans.), Saxo Grammaticus: The History of the Danes, 2 vols (Cambridge: Brewer; Totowa, N.J.: Rowman and Littlefield, 1979–80). 12-13 concisely and rightly disses Dumézil. Re Skiold, 'He used to attend the sick with remedies and bring kindly comforts to persons in deep distress, bearing witness that he had undertaken his people's welfare rather than his own' (15, in book 1). Healing as a royal accomplishment, showing concern, mercy etc. That said, his son Gram 'clothed himself in the most wretched rags and took a mean place at the table. Being asked what gift he brought, he professed skill in healing' (20). Dodgy seductive female Finn here too. Draugr type motif p. 26 re Mithothyn. 29-30 Hadingus kills a sea-monster which turns out to be divine and incur the wrath of the gods, propititated by maing a sacrifice of dark-colours ?animals to Frø. No fertility stuff for Frø here really; maybe something to do with vengeance though it doesn't seem just to be his gig. 'He repeated this mode of propitiation at an annual festival and left it to be imitated by his descendants. The Swedes call it Frøblot' (29).

Ellis Davidson, Hilda, ‘Dreams in Old Norse and Old Irish Literature’, in Northern Lights: Following Folklore in North-Western Europe. Aistí in adhnó do Bho Almqvist/Essays in Honour of Bo Almqvist, ed. by Séamus Ó Catháin (Dublin: University College Dublin Press, 2001), pp. 34–46

*Ellis, Pagan Scandinavia, 99, 130, fig. 22 re transformation of warrior-woman imagery from warior to waitress.

Els, T. J. M. van, The Kassel Manuscript of Bede’s ‘Historia ecclesiastica gentis Anglorum’ and its Old English Material (Assen: Van Gorcum, 1972)

Elton, Oliver (trans.), The Life of Laurence Bishop of Hólar in Iceland (London: Rivington, 1890). Ch 4 (p. 7) L seems to get used as a stand-in teacher while the actual teacher is out drinking; kids take the piss out of him for studying so much (and implicitly for upward mobility, conceivably specifically in the context of his relative poverty): interesting that kids are copping flack for this, and perhaps it hints that our riddarasögur are basically by nerds who had a crap time at school (cf. getting the piss taken out of him for sea-sickness ch 7 p. 13; cf. Taylor saga-book 24 322 for suspicion of foreign language skills; and the epilogues which diss the audience for not listening--possible to reconstruct a pretty nerdy clique here!). Ability to compose Latin verse as quick as one could speak--reminiscent of Óðinn in Ynglinga saga, but presumably hagiographical stuff too? ch. 5 p. 9 King of Norway disses Icelanders--part of the identity-handling here; ch 32 p 62 conversely narrative dissing Norwegian Auðun in Iceland? Ch. 7 (p. 13) wits praised over wealth by Bishop Árni Þorláksson. Ch 8 p. 14 very interesting business of Peter wanting to marry some relatve of the King's and asking the king to write to her; king specifies the letter should be in Latin; Laurence clearly better for this than Peter (implies it's a special skill?) but the king can read it (and has views on its good style--cares about L's handwriting too); and these skills are a way to impress the king (15). Þrándr: Flemish, does fireworks, curious emphasis in the text that L doesn't learn any sorcery of heathen stuff despite thirst for knowledge--the fact that this comes up here points to an implicit association between fireworks and dodgy knowledge (15). And obviously sets up Flemings as a source of cool stuff, and their presence in court. Ch 9 (p. 16) praises Jörund inter alia for being a good scholar (how similar is this description to what you'd find in a riddarasaga?). Here ff. is the Jón flæmingi stuff. I don't get the sentence where the mutual incomprehension of Jón and the Chapter is seen as making him a good mediator--has Elton got this right? Irony? Ch. 9 (17) again, handwriting and Latinity set up as the key test for getting ahead. Check out the exchange of Latin p. 17--how many of the saga's audience would appreciate this? Ch. 13 end (p. 22) 'The end was that no lettered man dared or would execute any bidding of the archbishop's which the Chapter were against'--what does he mean by 'lettered man' here and if it's to do with literacy, why's that important? Ch. 14 p. 23 writ (implictly in Latin cos it's by Jón flæmingi) central. Also a bit of implicit dissing of Icelanders again, though this time in direct speech from bad guys--not quite like in ch. 5 p. 9. Chs 15-16 (pp. 26-27) great stuff with people speaking in both Latin and Norse--it's clearly something Einarr's really interested in; come back to this. CH 16 (p. 28) mentions a writ in annalistic material, and ch. 17 beginning (p. 28) likewise. CH 18 (p. 31) Jörundr quotes in Latin and translates it--what's the implication for L's/Einarr's/audience's Latinity, or code-switching generally? (p.32) letters of authority, pausing to describe how blank cheques work--interesting that description is needed; what's the terminology here? Oh, NB t's partly to set us up for ch. 24, p. 47. Ch. 19 p. 33 tension re Icelandic identity (this time over St Þorlákr). 35-36 poor Latinity of many priests. ch 21 p. 37 L writes a letter--heck how far this is going; 38 copy of it--I'm not sure why this is important in the story, but clearly interesting concern with written word; 39 tearing of writ. ch 22 p. 41 more letter-writing, not writs but just asking for advice from a mate. Likewise ch. 23 p. 44 Lawrence writes a list, apparently for his own use. 45, 46, 51, 52 further emphasis on letters and books as something seized--massively important to Einarr clearly. How many times does the word bréf appear in this saga? ch 25 p. 49--Icelandic solidarity towards L in Niðarós. Ch 28 p. 53 dream with wafer marked with α and ω. Chs 28-29 works as a scholar despite not being a priest any more--a sense of demand for these skills. ch 30, p. 59 letters dead important again; authority of written word--but not truthful. 30 p. 60 teaches Abbot Guðmundr--high level stuff, clearly: L dead learned. Ch 32 (p. 65) troubles to specify that Anselm's psalms on Mary are in Latin--why emphasise this? (Surely not to prove that Auðun can hack Latin?) Ch 33 p. 68 L composes an appeal to Archbish in Latin--clearly L is the main man for Latin stuff again. Again, interesting that it specifies Latin? This time it's more clearly to the glorification of L though. And mentions Bergr Sokkason composing in Norse, apparently because of his scholarship and oratory--check the ON; cf. ch 47 p 97. And specifies L's silence as a monk in Latin AND Norse, and preference for speaking Latin. Interesting--clear register issues here. Ch 34 p.70 writ--from outside Iceland I think. 35 p. 73 more letters. Ch 36 p. 75 emphasises, in the trans anyway, that L read the excommunication of Auðun et al. back in the early days under Archbishop Jörundr. Ch 36 p. 76 'It has been the common speech of men'--þat er oft sagt? Interesting? Ch. 37 p. 78 more letter-writing, within Iceland, merely to communicate; followed up by elaborately described official letter of appointment for L. ch 40 p. 86 engraving verses (composed by L) on a bowl. ch 44 p 91 running of education at Hólar, cf ch 46 p. 97. 94-95 (ch. 45) use of wax tablets for drafting (with Einarr writing up); p. 95 Einarr tellsstories in norse or latin--again, careful to specify.

Enright, Michael J., ‘The Goddess who Weaves: Some Iconographic Aspects of Bracteates of the Fürstenberg Type’, Frühmittelalterliche Studien, 24 (1990), 54–70. re 5 probably C6 bracteates with a woman on ultimately based on Byzantine models. But some interesting differences from the model. Bla about weaving/spinning kit, arguing that this is what’s on the bracteates. Texts ON and OIr etc.65–9 Staff of völvur as copying weaver’s beam? (68). not very useful. Maybe there’s a connection? Maybe not. Oooo…

Enright, Michael J., Lady with a Mead-Cup: Ritual, Prophecy and Lordship in the European Warband from La Tène to the Viking Age (Dublin, 1996). Anthrop X620 ENR. Heavily reliant on Beowulf as a viable depiction of warband life without discussing problems of this. Crap at OE generally, whih is a shame as he relies on it in Ch. 1. ‘Some overall conclusions may now be drawn. The foregoing investigation results in a picture of the comitatus which differs considerably from the prevailing view in which reciprocity is deemed more important than hierarchy and in which the lord’s wife, when she is mentioned at all, figures primarily as a cup bearer to the retainers or a decorative presence at the welcoming of guests. If I have correctly interpreted the evidence assembled then neither view seems fully warranted. The king’s wife or chief wife, the queen if she has been formally recognized as such, is more than just a hostess who dispenses drink; rather, she functions in the hall as women do in society where they act as binders between families who create and embody alliances in order to fashion friendship or restore peace between feuding groups’ etc. (34). Puts her firmly in subordination to husband tho’.

58–68 survey of Classical ev., esp Tacitus for role of women, esp. as seeresses. This seems rather better. stuff. Argues for the likes of Veleda being not powerful and independent but integral part of the poloitical mechanism of the ruler whereby he can give his decisions external sanctification. ‘It might, however, be argued that Veleda was independent enough to support Civilis simply because she wished him well. This possible hypothesis founders on two objections. First, the texts suggest that both Romans and Germans thought Veleda’s prophecies could be influenced by the right kind of timely intervention. Two passages mention the giving of gifts and Cerialis advised her that a change in her attitude would be a service to the Roman people. Simply stated: political allegiance determines prophetic utterance. Thus, even if we assume Veleda’s good will, Civilis would still have needed to control her since prophecy is always a dangerous instrument and a wilful prophetess is a loose cannon on any warlord’s ship … [64] The conclusion that she was not a free agent is, despite generations of assumption to the contrary, inevitable’ (63–64). Hmm, well the inevitability is more a product of the assumptions with which you come to the sources than the sources themselves, but sounds fair enough. And NB prophecy-as-shaping the future. E.g. is Caesar’s account of how Ariovistus won’t engage because matronae say they have to wait till after a new moon—presumably really A’s means of using delaying tacticswithout his warband going mental (65). Gallic war I, 50.

Esp. 80–89 re drinking in marriage ritual—cf. Skírnismál (not mentioned). 75 re trads where bride has to be ritually abducted from family home as part of marriage ceremony (anthropological comparisons)—cf. Skírnismál again. 76–80 marriage as kuje entering a druht (or rather, etymologically, the other way round, he argues: entering a warband like marrying into a druht). Cf.s WfL folgað secan.\

109–21 re women, weaving, spinning, magic. Bidford woman 121–24; nothing to add directly to Dickinson’s account, but the contextualisation perhaps valuable. 118–19 re Bede and Imma; ‘Bede’s chapters surrounding the Imma story seem consciously designed to offer alternatives to the pagan warband system’ (119). IV 21 Theodore makes peace between warring kings—not a woman. IV 22 Imma: praying priest replaces idisi (as it were); IV 23 Hild abandons wordly life; IV 24 Cædmon becomes Xian poet; ‘Bede’s story of Imma, long seen as a picturesque example of [119] Christian thaumaturgy, can now be seen in a new light, as a very precisely tailored substitution for female magic in warfare’ (118–19). Interesting…

His twopennyworth on previous arguments that veleda is cognate with fili, gweled. Reckons Veleda and her messenger like druid and his fili. Hmm. 170–88. Reckons Civilis encounteres British furiae types on Mon while in Roman army. Seems a bit speculative… 183–85. ‘It begins to look as if some Germanic peoples borrowed a variety of Celtic practices at the same time as they were adopting the material culture of La Tène’, Civilis as borrowing whole prophetess idea (187). Don’t think I buy this, but it’s a fair enough reasonable extreme.

180–82 Unferth and Wealhtheow as double act, cf. 189–95. 189–95 wealhþeow as < Veleda. Hmm, won’t really stick but undeniably interesting. ‘As far as I can determine, scholars have constantly assumed that the warlord and the prophetess were unrelated figures wielding power in separate spheres and joined only occasionally when mutual interest dictated common action or, somewhat naively perhaps, in cases where the former might earnestly wish to consult the latter as to the future success of an endeavor. The political dimensions of this tableau—and such must jhave existed because of the status and function of the warleader—were never worked out; in fact, they were ignored. An erroneous impression was thereby created and embedded in the literature. As a further consequence, scholars also seem to have assumed that the genealogy of the prophetess could not realistically be investigated; it probably reached back somewhere to the primordial past and must be taken for granted … But in view of the fact [!] that veleda is an occupational designation borrowed from the Celts, that interpretation does not appear likely. It seems best, therefore, to seek for the origin of the warlord/prophetess/comitatus connection within the context of Celto-Germanic contact in the [197] late La Tène (first century bc) which is in fact the period that establishes the true foundation for subsequent political development of Germanic culture’ (196–97).

Entwistle, Noel, ‘Learning Outcomes and Ways of Thinking Across Contrasting Disciplines and Settings in Higher Education’, The Curriculum Journal, 16 (2005), 67–82, DOI: 10.1080/0958517042000336818. 'coursework almost always produces higher mean scores and less spread of marks than examinations' (70). Some summarised data re asking staff about learning outcomes: 'The ETL project has been asking university teachers to describe what they are trying to achieve with their students. Staff often referred initially to the intended learning outcomes, but sometimes with criticisms of their restrictive nature which were similar to those made recently by Hussey & Smith (2003)' (72). One project goes for 'ways of thinking and practising' 72-73). 'Only in the later stages of an Honours degree do class sizes and the stage of academic development reached allow realistic participation with a community of scholars or professionals, although earlier involvement was found in discursive and contested areas, like history and media studies, as we shall see' (73)--interesting. Perhaps this is something special about history worth capitalising on (cf. 77). 73-74 some empirical work on how far students meet, and can be expected to meet, learning outcomes set for them. Article keen on linking learning outcomes to threshold concepts, and interestingly history seems to have fewer of these than say economics, which would link to the way in which students can participate in the real business of historians earlier on.

Erasmus, Erasmus, Adagia III i 1 ('Festina lente'): And now in turn let me describe the generous behaviour of a friend of mine from across the Alps; one of my special friends I thought him, and still do, for one should 'know one's friends' weaknesses but hate them not'. When I was preparing the Venice edition, I happened to have seen in his possession a Suidas which had the proverbs marked in the margins. It was an immense work, and meant a great deal of reading. Hoping therefore to spare myself trouble, I asked him to lend me the volume, even if only for a few hours, while my servant transcribed the notes into my copy. I asked him repeatedly, and he always said no. After bringing every form of pressure to bear on him without success, I asked him whether he had a mind to publish the proverbs himself, for if so I would most gladly get out of the way of a man who would do the job much better than myself. He swore he had no such intention. 'Then what' I asked him 'are your motives?' And at last, like a man who confesses under torture, he said that everything is now becoming public property from which scholars hitherto had been able to secure the admiration of the common people. 'Hence all those tears.' There lie hid in the colleges and monasteries of Germany, France, and England very ancient manuscripts which their owners are so far from making available of their own accord (with few exceptions) that when asked to do so, they either conceal them or deny their existence or charge an exorbitant fee for the use of manuscripts which they value at ten times their true worth. (Collected works of Erasmus. Vol.31-35, Adages (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1982-)

Erhardt-Siebold, Erika von, ‘The Hellebore in Anglo-Saxon Pharmacy’, Englische Studien, 71 (1936), 161–70

Ericksen, Janet Schrunk, ‘Runesticks and Reading The Husband’s Message’, Neuphilologische Mitteilungen, 99 (1998), 31-37. 33-35 actually presents a marriage proposal on rune-stave from Lom, Norway. Hmm.

Erixon, Sigurd, ‘Some Examples of Popular Conceptions of Sprites and other Elementals in Sweden during the 19th Century’, in The Supernatural Owners of Nature: Nordic Symposion on the Religious Conceptions of Ruling Spirits (genii locii, genii speciei) and Allied Concepts, ed. by Åke Hultkrantz, Acta Universitatis Stockholmiensis, Stockholm Studies in Comparative Religion, 1 (Stockholm: Almqvist & Wiksell, 1961), pp. 34–37. 34 on hollow back, kyrtråt (the church sprite) 36–37.

Erla Stefánsdóttir, Huliðsheimakort: teikningar af álfabyggð, huliðsvættum og texti Erla Stefánsdóttir ; kortlagning álfabyggðar og ljósmyndir Kolbrún Þóra Oddsdóttir (Hafnarfjörður: Ferðamálanefnd Hafnarfjarðar, [1993])

Erlendur Haraldsson, `Psychic Experiences a Third of a Century Apart: Two Representative Surveys in Iceland with an International Comparison', Journal of the Society for Psychical Research, 75 (2011), 76--90. https://notendur.hi.is/~erlendur/english/Psychic-experiences/Psychic-Exp-2011.pdf.

Eska, Charlene M., ‘Rewarding Informers in Cáin Domnaig and the Laws of Wihtred’, Cambrian Medieval Celtic Studies, 52 (2006), 1–11. ‘To conclude, we have two law tracts, one in Old Irish and the other in Old English, neither of which is a translation of the other, yet they have [11] an unusual provision in common: an informer receives as a reward half the fine of someone caught working on a Sunday. This shared provision is not found in any other vernacular law tract, nor is it found in any of the extant Latin or vernacular penitentials, although penitential literature s familiar with the concept of informers. The Insular cultural milieu during the early Middle Ages was such that there was a significant amount of borrowing between cultures. It is particularly relevant that the lost Latin version of the “Sunday Letter”, of which the Irish Epistil Ísu is a translation, was the version used by the Anglo-Saxon Pehtred, and that the Epistil Ísu is one o the texts grouped under the heading Cáin Domnaig. All of thisevidence suggests that the concept of the informer’s reward in Cáin Domnaig proper and the Laws of Wihtred derives rom a common sources. Whether this was Latin, Irish, Anglo-Saxon, or oral cannot be determined, because it seems not to have survived the ravages of time, bu the evidence presented above suggests tat the most likely source was a Latin text concerned with the laws of Sunday’ (10–11).

Eska, Joseph F., ‘Towards an Integrated Interpretation of the Right Hand Panel of the Franks Casket’, American Notes and Queries, New Series, 3 (1990), 85-87. Becker 1973, 28 sees genii cuculati figures as ‘ “Todesdämonen”, comparing them with scenes on the Irish high crosses in which two figures, usually half-animal, half-human, are on either side of a human figure, and lending great importance to the fact that the mouth of the central figure is not well worked out, a feature that he says is common in Scandinavian carvings, and that indicates the exit of life’ (Eska disses this last; 86). ‘There seems, then, to be some room for a new proposal that works the three figures into Davidson’s interpretation of the panel. Since we must be dealing with the death of a hero, one may wish to consider whether the notion of rebirth may be represented in some way by the figures. In that case, one thinks instantly of the Nornir, who aid in childbirth and determine the destinies of men. Such an identification of the three figures on the right hand side of the panel may lead to an interpretation of the entire panel as a genre piece that runs full circle through a warrior’s birth, life and death and entrance into Valh²ll to his rebirth in the form of a descendant’ (86). Oh dear. Cite?

Esmonde Cleary, A. S., The Ending of Roman Britain (Savage, Maryland: Barnes & Noble, 1990).

Esmonde Cleary, Simon, ‘Changing Constraints on the Landscape ad 400–600’, in Landscape and Settlement in Britain ad 400–1066, ed. by Della Hooke and Simon Burnell (Exeter: University of Exeter Press, 1995), pp. 11–26.

Estes, Heide, Anglo-Saxon Literary Landscapes: Ecotheory and the Environmental Imagination (Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 2017)

Evans, David A. H. (ed.), Hávamál, Viking Society for Northern Research, text series, 7 (London: Viking Society for Northern Research, 1986).

*Evans, D. Ellis, ‘Celts and Germans’, Bulletin of the Board of Celtic Studies, 29 (2) (1981), 230–55. Vs Celtic domination hypothesis.

Evans, Dafydd, ‘Marie de France, Chrétien de Troyes, and the malmariée’, in Chrétien de Troyes and the Troubadours: Essays in Memory of the Late Leslie Topsfield, ed by Peter S. Noble and Linda M. Paterson (Cambridge: St Catharine’s College, Cambridge, 1984), pp. 159–71. Re Yonec, ‘Marie’s sympathy for the adulterous malmariée could not be more obvious, but the complacent acceptance of adultery is not sustained when confronted with the laack of mesure and with the unjustified disloyalty that goes to the lengths of plotting misery and murder in Bisclavret and Equitan’ (164). But not much of immediate use. Emphs that marie’s taken a Celtic fairy story and turned it into malmariée genre type—better and well-attested later, but obviously old he reckons (165).

Eve, Jeanette and Basil Mills, A Literary Guide to the Eastern Cape: Places and the Voices of Writers (XXXXX: Juta and Company Limited, 2003). 'Today Grahamstown is part of the municipality of Makana, named for the propet, Makana, nicknamed Nxele ('left-handed'), who, in 1819, led an attac on the town. Thousands of warriors in battle array poured over the hills to the east of the town, intending to destroy the military garrison and drive away the British, who had deprived them of their land and homes. In spite of vastly superior numbers the battle went badly for them and they had to retreat, leaving behind hundreds of dead and dying men. Makana was exiled to Robben Island. Less and a decade after the battle Thomas Pringle wrote "Makanna's Gathering", in which he assumes the persona of the warrior prophet and expresses the aspirations of the Xhosa. Near the base of Makana's hill on a site known as Egazini ('place of blood'), a monument has been built to commemorate all those involved in the battle. It is dedicated to reconciliation' (119).

d’Evelyn, Charlotte and Anna J. Mill (eds), The South English Legendary: Edited from Corpus Christi College Cambridge MS. 415 and British Museum MS. Harley 2277 with Variants from Bodley MS. Ashmole 43 and British Museum MS. Cotton Julius D. IX, 3 vols, The Early English Text Society, 235, 236, 244 (London: Oxford University Press, 1956–59).

Ewert, Alfred (ed.), Gui de Warewic: Roman du XIIIe Siècle, 2 vols, Les classiques français du moyen age, 74–75 (Paris: Champion, 1932–33)

Ewert, Alfred (ed.), Marie de France: Lais, new ed. with introduction and bibliography by Glyn S. Burgess (London: Bristol Classical Press, 1995)

Eze, Emmanuel C. “Out of Africa: Communication Theory and Cultural Hegemony”, Telos 111 (1998): 139–62. (Reprinted as “Beyond Dichotomies: Communicative Action and Cultural Hegemony.” In Beyond Dichotomies: Histories, Identities, Culture and the Challenge of Globalization, edited by Elisabeth Mudimbe-Boye, 51–68. Albany: State University of New York Press, 2002.)

F

F., R. M., ‘The Witch Doctor of Leckie’, in The Stirling Antiquary: Reprinted from ‘The Stirling Sentinel’, ed. by W. B. Cook, 5 vols (Stirling: Cook & Wylie, 1893–1909), vol. iv pp. 185–91. Alas, not a proper ed., but summary with quotations. Not clear how much he’s interfered. ‘The registers of the Presbytery of Stirling contain an account of an interesting case which came before the brethren in the year 1628. It is that of one Stein Maltman in Leckie, in the parish of Gargunnock. He appeared before the Presbytery “at Stirling the saxt of Merch, the thrid, the tenth and sevintenth of Aprile 1628”. The accusation made against him was that of “charming and other pointes of witchcraft”, and Stein appeared yo be rather proud of his abilities in this direction, as he “confessed frielie that these aught or nyne zeirs bygaine he hadd sett himself to charming sindrie diseases”. On being interrogated whence he had obtained his skill of healing and how he had learned the practices which he employed he “confessed that he had thame of the fairye folk quhom he had sein in boidilie schapes in sindrie places” .’ (185). 185–86 F. mentions Robert Kirk’s stuff. ‘There is then narrated a series of confessions made by him as to the times, places, and manner in which he exercised his healing powers. He appears to have been called in, as it were, for special consultations. “What he did in Stirling” receives primary attention. Adam Neilson, a burgess of Stirling, fell sick and became heavily diseased. He “sent his sark to him to be charmed be the said Stein, and that he charmed it in this forme [sic re syntax]. God be betwixt this man that aught this sark and all evils in name of the Father, the Sone, and the Holy Ghost, and out on this sark thryse in name of the Father, &c., and that he gave him directioun to wasche his ody in southe running well water, and commandit that the water wherewith the said Adam wes wasched should be cast furth in some desert place where no Christen saule repaires, aufd that he sent to the said Adam ane napkin to wype his body eftir wasching, commanding that the said napkin eftir that he had made his use of it should be cast under the said Adam’s bed.” Payment was made in kind, and for this cure Stein receives “ane furkatt of meale from Johne Gurlay in Glenturen”. Adam Neilson appears and gives evidence, in the course of which he deponed that when he desired thein Maltman to heal his disease he answered that his sickness behoved to be laid on either beast or body. To this Adam replied that he would not have his sickness “casten on any body or Christen creatur bot upon ane beast,” and promised that he should pay for the beast. This bargain was made by the said Adam Neilson and Stein Maltman in Wester Leckie in October, 1627. // The case of a lunatic in the Abbey of Cambuskenneth claims the curative skill of Stein. This was a youth called James Glen, and it happened [187] about six years before the date of his confession. he [sic] method adopted to cure the lunatic is thus described:— “He caused set furth the said James Glen his alone betwix nyne and ten in ane winter night and bad draw ane compas about the said James with ane drawn sword, and that the said Stein went out his alone into the yaird to hold affe the fairye from the said James, from the qlk he bargained to have ressaved fyve merks money gross. He gave him the half thereof only, and the said Stein meitting with the said James Glen upon the last Fair of Stirling and seiking the rest of the money, the said James ansored he had gotten over much for any gud he had done him, whereupon the said Stein tuik the man be the hand and said he should put him in his awin place, and so its seems it fell out, for the same night the man hanged himself.” We next find Stein in St Ninians, where he is called upon to cure a child of Patrick Wright “in calsey syd”. This child was sick, and Stein made his father take his son out during that night to a marche dyke “at the pow of the borrow milne of Stirling”. he caused the father to stand on the one side of the march dyke with the child in his arms, while he stood on the other; and being on their knees he took the bairn out of his father’s arms, over the dyke, and after he had prayed to God “and to all unearthlische creatures to send the bairne his health againe he delivered toe bairne back againe to his father over the dyke”. // ‘From St Ninians Stein comes to the parish of Logie, being sent for by Andrew Kidston in Nether Craig, whose wife, Jonet Chrystie, was “heavillie diseased”. He diagnosed her trouble to have been caused by fairy influence, and so “he brocht in some south running water, seathed it in ane pan, and put one elff-arrow stone in the water because it wes ane remedie against the fairies schott, that he gave to the said Jonet Chrystie ane drink thereof, and immediatlie efter the said Jonet had drunk thereof the said Stein caused the hail servants to depairt out of the house for fear they should ressave skaith of her, and particularlie he had Elspet Steinsoune their servand, being lying beyond the said Jonet Chrystie in ane Longsettle, cum furth and leave her, for, said he, gif any evill cum on thee I will never get mends for thee”. [187] // Having thus cleared the room of those present Stein also went out of the house for a certain space and returned again. He proceeded to cut some cheese, giving a piece to each of those in the house. But it was alleged that Agnes Davidson, who was present, refused to take the piece offered to her, whereupon he said “that the said Agnes would rew the refusall”. And it seemed that the said Stein transferred the disease from Jonet Chrystie to Agnes Davidson, “as will moir cleirlie appeir in the said Agnes her dispositionne in maner after following:—At Logye the first of Aprile, 1mVIc twentie and aught zeirs, in presence of Mr Henry Schaw, minister thair, David Leaschmane and Thomas Chrystie twa of the Eldars, and Malcolme Towar Reider at the said kirk Agnes Davidsoune in Spittall ane publick spactacle to the hail parochin, blind of her sight tyed to her bed in ane heavie agonie of seiknes not common, deponit that sche wes in Andrew Kidstoune his houss in Nether Craigtoune, where Janot Chrystie his spous tuik ane great brasche of seiknes, and Stein Maltman being present with her the said Agnes Davidsoune desyred Androw Kidstoune to cum to his wyfe for she had taken ane great brasche of seiknes; Stein Maltman ansored that sche might have bein at her awin home gif she had only for perchance she might rew it therefter her being thair. And thairefter the said Stein Maltman wes going to his bed tuik ane kebbock of cheise and cutted ane peace ang [sic] gave to everie ilk persoune of the houss with ane peace of bread and gart lay it on the duir head and window head, and desyred the said Agnes Davidsoune to tak ane peace cheise and break also qlk sche utterlie refuised, whereupon the said Stein Maltman ansored that sche wald soir repent the refuisall of his bread and cheise at her hart. The qlk repentance, as sche alleges, she has fund since syne and the said Stein of her hail greif.” // According to Stein’s own confession, he gave Agnes Davidson a remedy for her trouble, and advised her “to go furth to ane whine buss and thair seik her healthe from God and all uneardly creatures, for sche had gotten ane blast of evill wind”. // There were other cases besides that of Jonet Chrystie and Agnes Davidson in the parish of Logie to which Stein Maltman was called. He admit himself that he was in the house of John [189] Garrow in Corntoun, when the said John was sick, and to effect a cure he caused him to be set out during the night by himself “in that place quhaire he thocht he tuik seiknes”, and told him to pray to God and to all unearthly wights to send him his health again. Another case was that of a son of David Ewing in Westgrange, who was sick and “had taken ane frae in the night.” The father of the child was instructed by Stein to take the bairn out about eleven or twelve hours at niht, “and lay his hand upon the bairnes head, and directed him to draw his sword and schaik it about the bairne, for, said Stein, the fairye wold not cume where they saw drawn swords”. The drawn sword appears to have been considered an effective weapon in counteracting the baneful influences of the fairy folk, and Stein resorted to it in another case in the parish of Kippen. John Forrester there was heavily diseased, and called in the help of the witch doctor of Leckie, who desired him to go to the pace where he had contracted his sickness, and there ask for his health again. Stein took this man, John Forrester, and his brother Thomas, two several nights, about midnight, to the place where John “had gotten his seiknes”, and he made them both kneel down on the ground, “and drew ane scoire about thame with ane drawn sword, and that thairefter he went from thame ane certain space and prayed to God and all unearthlische wights to send the said Jhone his health againe”. On these occasions, while he was out in the darkness with the two brothers, he ordered John Forrester’s wife to shut both doors and windows and fear nothing, nor yet speak no matter what she saw or heard until they returned, “for nothing wold aill her”. // The result of these midnight incantations was that John Forrester became much better; but when he was somewhat convalescent, and like some patients showed ingratitude to his curer, Stein told him in a menacing manner “that the wand that struck him befoir wes yet to the foir, qlk seames to be accomplisched for with few days the said Jhone cumming out of his ain hous in the morning and being in gud health, at his awin doore he lay downe and presentlie died”. [190] // Stein further confessed that he had washed Nicol Campbell in Kippen, who was sick, and that he got “ane codwair with ane peck of meall for his pained.” The last of the Kippen cases was Walter Millar in Glentirren, whom he took out during the night to the place where he got his sickness, and there prayed to God and all unearthly wights to send him his health. Thereafter he laid his hands on the said Walter and “rubbed his breist and his bak with ane elffarrow stone”. // At this times it was a common practice for persons in sickness to get their shirts charmed, and there are instances of this being dne by other people who dealt in the black art besides Stein Maltman, but we do not touch on these at present. The remaining examples of Stein’s skill are taken from cases in the parish of Gargunnock, where he lived, and the first is an instance of shirt charming. He “confessis that James Stewart’s sark in the time of the said James his seiknes wes brocht to him in Gargunnock be Thomas Stewart, and that he charmed the sark as he had done uthers”. He also charmed the shirt of a daughter of Thomas McLehose “who them wes dumbe, uttering these words, put it on thrys in the name of God, the Father, the Sone, and the Holy Ghost; I hoip in God the bairne will speake belyve, qlk the bairne did accordinglie”. // John Moir “in Buchlyvie” had consulted him about his son, who was supposed to have got trouble from the fairies, and in this case also Stein followed his usual methods. He took out the child in the night-time, “saying he had some company to meit with,” and drew a compass round about the bairn with a sword, and thereafter returned to the house, “and he had not mett with his companie the fairies.” He also caused the child’s mother to set a pan full of water upon the fire, into which he cast “ane elffarow stone thairin of purpoiss to wasche ye bairn thairwith”. “Lykways the said Stein confessed that for helping of ane seik boy in Johne Dune his hous he bad bring to himself twa pecks of meall, twa peaces of beif, for he behauifit quyetlie some night to cast thame over the Binne Craige”. //’ (190). Then just F.’s concluding note (190–91).

* * * Notes to Stirling Presbytery Records CH2/722/5. p. 18 lines 11ff. Volume covers feb 22 1627–april 2 1640. Underlining for words needing checking. Looks like everything pp. 16–40 may have been written up in one stint; certainly it is the case that all Stein’s stuff is written up (presumably from other records) after the events. Punctuation more dense in some sections? Hinting at differing underlying texts? Spelling seems pretty consistent, but might be good to check.

At Stirling the saxt of march

the thrid the tenth and sevin =

tenth of april 1628

In quhilk of the bretherein thair

assembled

The quhilk day compeired Stein Maltman

in Leckie parochine of Gargannock who

in quhilk of the bretherein their assembled

being accused for charming and XXXXX ther

pointed of witchcraft, Confessed frielie

that these aught at nyne eirs bygain &

he had sett hXXpef to charming sindrie diseased

and being demaunded quhence he had his

skill of healling and how had Learned

the prattickes quhilk he vsed Confessed þt

he had thame of the fairye folk quhom

he had sein in bodilie schap & in sindrie places

p. 19

Quhat he did in Stirling

The quhilk day the said Stein confessed that

Adam neilsoune burges in Stirling being seik

and hevilie diseased sent hes sark to him

to be charmed be the said Stein, and that

he charmed it in this forme, God be betXX

this man that aught this sark and all evills

Sterling in name of the father the sone and the holy

ghost, and put on this sark thryse in name

of the father XXXXX, and that he gave him

directioune to wasche his body in southe

running well water And commandit that the

water wherwith the said adam wes wasched

should be cast furth in some desert place

XXXXX no christen saXXXXX repaireX, and that

he sent to the said adam ane napkin to

wype his body efter wasching commanding þt

the said napkin efter þt he had mad þis vse of

it should be cast wnder the said adames bed

for the quhilk cuire he confessed he ressavit

and furkatt of meale from Jhone Gurlay

in Glenturen. /

The quhilk day adam neilsoune deponed þt when

he desyred Stein maltman to haill his —

XXXXX the said Stein answered that his —

seXXXXX XXXXX to be laid on ather

brast or body, To whom the said adam

replyed þt he wold not have his seiknes

p. 20

casten on any body or Christen creatur [the r here added in different ink]

bot vpon ane beast and promeised that he

should pay for the beast and deponed þt

these XXXXX hes past betXXXXX him & she said

Stein in wester Leckie in october M =

vicl twenthe and sevin eares

The quhilk day Stein confessed that he wes

with James glen in abbay XXger about XXXXX

eir since and promeised to cuire him being

XXXXX for the quhilk sXXX [MS smudged] he confessed þt he

caused sett furth the said James glen his alon

botXXXXX nyne and ten in ane winter night

and bad draw ane compas about the said

James with ane drawin sword and thathe

said Stein went out his allon into the aird

to hold XXXXX the fairye from þe said James

for the quhilk he barganed to have ressaved

fyve merks money XXXXX he gave him the

half þerof only and he said Stein meitting

with the said James glen vpon the last fair

of Sterling and pXXXXXing the rest of the moey

he said James ansXXXXXed he had gotten over much

for any gud he had done him qrwpon the

said Stein tuik the man by þe hand and said

he sould put him in his awin peace and

so it seimed it fell out for that same

night the man hangid himself .

p. 21

Quhat he did in St ninianes

Sanct= The quhilk day the said Stein confessed þt

ninianes he had bein in Patrik wrights hous

in calsey syd, and that he caused the said

Patrik tak furth his sone being then

seik in the night tyme to ane merche

dyk at the pXXXXX of þe borrow XXXXX

of Stirling qXXXXXr þe said Stein being put/quhilXXXXX

him self with the bairne and his father

he caused the said patrik to stand on

the on syd of þe merche dyk with the

bairne in his armes and the said Stein

him self on the wXXXXX syd of þe dyke

and being on thair kneis he tuik the

bairne out of his fathers armes over

the dyk and efter that he had prayed to

god and to all vnearXXXXX creatures

to sXXXXX the bairne his healle againe

he delyvered the bairne bak againe to

his father over the dyke.

Quhat he did in Logye .

The quhilk day þe said Stein confessed þt he

Logye wes send for be androw kidstoune

in nether craig to haill or help the said

p. 22

Androw his wyfe Jonet chrystie being þen

hevellie diseased that he brocht in XXXXX

south running water seathed it in ane

pan and put ane Elff arrow stone

in the water because it wes ane remedie

against þe fairies schott that he gave

to the said Jonet chrystie ane drink

þerof and Immediatlieefter the said

Jonet had drunk þerof the said Stein

caused þe haill servants to depairt

out of the housß for fear they sould

ressave skaith of her and particular

lie he bad Elspet Steinsoune thair

servand being lying beond the said

Jonet Chrystie in ane Longsettle cum

furth and leave her for said he gif

any evill cum on the I will never

gett mends for the efter that the said

Stein having gone out of the housß

for ane certaine space he came

in againe and cutted some cheise &

gave ane peace þerof to the people in the

housß Wherof it is allegit that agnes

davidsoune being thair XXXXX refuised

to tak ane pairt thairof from

the said Stein maltman quherfoir he said

p. 23

that the said agnes sould rew the refuisall

so as it seames the said stein transferred

the said Jonet Chrysteis deseas vpon the said

agnes davidsoune as will moir cleirlie —

appeir in the said agnes her despositioune

in maner efter following

AT Logye the first of aprile XXXXXtwen

tie and aught eirs in presaunce of Mr Henry

Schaw minister thair david XXXXX

and Thomas Chrystie twa of the Eldars

and Malcolme Towar XXXXXidar at the said

XXXXX . Agnes davidsoune in spittall ane

publicXXXXX spectacle to the haill XXXXX

blind of her sight tyed to her bed in ane

heavie agonie of seiknes not comoune,

deponit that sche wes in androw kidstoune

his housß in nether craigtoune quhair Jonet

chrystie his spous tuik ane great brasche

of siknes and Stein maltman being

present with her the said agnes davidsoune

desyred androw kidstoune to cum to his

XXXXX for scho had taken ane great brasche

of seiknes Stein maltman ansored that

scho might have bein at her awin home

gif scho had ony for perchance scho might

rew it þerefter the being thair . And

thairefter the said Stein maltman

p. 24

wes going to his bed tuik ane kebbock of

cheise and cuttod ane peace and gave

to everie ilk persoune of the housß with

ane peace of break and cutted ane

peace cheise and bread and gait lay

it on the duir head and window head

and desyred the said agnes davidsoune

to tak ane peace cheise and breid

also quhilk scho wtterlie refuised quherwpon

the said Stein maltman ansred that

scho wald soir repent the refuisall

of his breid and cheise at her hart

The quhilk repentance as scho alleges

scho hes fund sincesyne and the said Stein

of hor haill greif

The quhilk day the said Stein maltman

XXXXX he wes in James chrysties housß

in cornetoune and thair charmed

ane seik bairne of his in the forme &

maner he had done with Patrik —

wrights in Calsey syd befoir

The quhilk day þe said Stein XXXXXssed yt he ne

in Jon Garrows housß in cornetoune and qu

the said Jhonnes seik he caused sett him out

in þe night his allon in þt place quhair

he thocht he tuik seiknes and bad the said

Jhone pray to god & all wneardlie wights

to send him his health againe

p. 25

The quhilk day Stein confessed þt he send XXXXXrd

to agnes davidsoune in spittall being for þe

present heavellie diseased with her bXXXXXhe Mccolls

davidsoune and desyered for to go furthe

to ane whine busse quher scho had contracted

her diseas and thair seik her healthe

from god and all vneardly creatures

for scho had gotten ane blast of evill

wind

The quhilk day Stein confessed þt he counselled

david Ewin in west grange for helping of

his sone who was then seik and had taken

ane fray in the night to tak the bairne

out in þe nyt at ellevin or twell houres [final s damaged]

and lay his hand vpon the bairnes head

and directed him to draw his sword

and schaik it about the bairne for

said Stein the fairye wold not cume

quhair they saw drawin swordis .

Quhat he did in kippen .

The quhilk day the said Stein confessed that

Kippen . being in Jhone forresters housß in kippen

who being heavellie diseased desyred the

said Stein to help him give he contid

to whom he answered that the said Jhone

behXXXXXed to go to the place quher he had

contracted the seiknes and after his healthe

p. 26

quherwpon the said Stein tuik the said Stein [crossed out by original scribe]

Jhone foster and his brother Thomas foster

twa severall night about midnight to the

place quhair the said Jhone had gottin his seiknes

and when they wer cum to the peace quhair

he said Jhone had gottin his secknes he

caused the said Jhone and Thomas sitt

doune on the grund wpon thair Aneis

and drew ane scoir about thame with

ane drawin Sword and that thairefter

he went from thame and XXXXX

XXXXX and prayed to god and all wnearth=

lische wights to send the said Jhone his

health againe, lykways that in these

nights foirsaid he bad the said Jhone

fosters wyfe steik boith dore and winXXXXX

and fear nothing and speak nothing quhat

ever sche hard or saw till they returned

againe for nothing wold aill her .

Lykways confessed that efter the said

Jhone wes XXXXX thing convalescit, and

he said Jhone seamed to be somthingXXXXX

forme said that the want that struik

him befoir wes et to the foir XXXXX

seames to be accomplisched for within

few days the said Jhone cumming out

of

p. 27 of his awin hous in the morning and being

in gud health at his awin doore he lay

downe and presentlie dies

The quhilk day the said Stein confessed þt

he wasched nicole campbell in kippen

being seik, and þt he gottXXXXX ane codwair

with ane peck of meale for his paines

Lykways confessesXXXXX 1 If reallypresent tense NB as evidence for original text underlying fair copy.

XXXXX in GlentirronXXXXX þt he tuik him

fXXXXXth in the night to the place quhaire he

gott his seiknes and prayed to god and

all vnearthlisch wights to send him his

health, and efter þt, laying his hands

on the said walter he rubbed his breist

and his bak with ane Elffarrow

stone

Quhat he did in Gargonnok

The quhilk day Stein maltman confessed

Gargonnok that James Stewarts sark in the tyme

of the said James his seiknes wes brocht to

to 2 scribal error?Again pointing to underlying MS. But then we all duplicate words sometimes.

and þt he charmed the sark as he had

done XXXXX .

Lykways confesses þt he charmed ane sark

of thomas mcleheis his dochter who then

wes

p. 28 dumbe wttering these words put it on

XXXXX in the name of god the father the

sonne and holy ghost JhoneXXXXX in god the bairn

will speak XXXXX quhilk the bairne did

accordinglie

Lykways confesses that he said to Jhone MXXXXX

in XXXXXochlyvie þt he wes able to cuire þe

said Jhone his sonne gif he gott trXXXXXble be þe

fairie, and þt he tuik out the bairne

in the night saying he had some cumpany

to meit with þt he drew ane compas aboXXXX

the bairne being þerout with ane sword, and

efter he returned to the hous, and he had

not mett with his companie the fairies

As also that þt he caused the bairnes mother

to sett on þe fyer ane pann full of water

and that he cuistXXXXX ane Elffarrow stone

thairin of quXXXXX ti wasche þe bairne

thairwith

Lykways þe said Stein confessed that for

helping of ane seik boy in Jhone dund

his hous he bad bring to himself twa

pecks of meall twa peaces of beif

for he be hXXXXXit quyethe some myht

to cast thame over the Brune craige

Fabech, Charlotte, ‘Reading Society from the Cultural Landscape: South Scandinavia between Sacral and Political Power’, in The Archaeology of Gudme and Lundeborg: Papers Presented at a Conference at Svendborg, October 1991, ed. by P. O. Nielsen, K. Randsborg and H. Thrane, Arkæologiske studier, 10 (Copenhagen: Akademisk Forlag, 1994), pp. 169–83.

Fabech, Charlotte, ‘Organising the Landscape: A Matter of Production, Power, and Religion’, Anglo-Saxon Studies in Archaeology and History, 10 (1999), 37–47. 42–44 actually presents an abstracted model for central places in southern Scandinavia

* Fabian, Johannes, Time and the Other: How Anthropology Makes its Object (New York: Columbia University Press, 1983). Looks like a cool book for africans as contemporary ancestors etc. Useful re Marrku and Jari morality and health project?

Fahn, Susanne Miriam, and Gottskálk Jensson, 'The Forgotten Poem: A Latin Panegyric for Saint Þorlákr in AM 382 4to', Gripla, 21 (2010), 19-60.

Fairclough, H. Rushton (ed. and trans.), Virgil: Eclogues; Georgics; Aeneid I–IV, rev. ed. by G. P. Gould (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1999–2000). Book I opening tolerably like Aldhelm CDV; NB ‘et vos, agrestum praesentia numina, Fauni / (ferte simul Faunique pedem Dryadesque puellae!)’ (‘…come trip it, Fauns, and Dryad maids withal!’) I ll. 10–11. Whole invocation I 1–42. Muses invoked e.g. II475–78; mentions nymphs, as well as elsewhere, IV 531–34; ‘hinc miserabile Nymphae, / cum quibus illa choros lucis agitabat in altis’ 532–33.

Falileyev, Alexander, ‘Beyond Historical Linguistics: A Case for Multilingualism in Early Wales’, Ireland and Europe in the Early Middle Ages: Texts and Transmission /Irland und Europa im früheren Mittelalter: Texte und Überlieferung, eds. Próinséas Ní Chatháin & Michael Richter. Dublin: Four Courts Press, 2002, 6–13. Celtic D-0.31 NIC    (H Avokok. 940.1 Ireland) Really just about a couple of tricky etymologies.

Falileyev, Alexander and G. R. Isaac, 'Leeks and Garlic: The Germanic Ethnonym Cannenefates, Celtic *Kasn- and Slavid *Kesn-', NOWELE: North-Western European Language Evolution, 42 (2003), 3-12. 'Peter Schrijver has recently discussed the prehistory of the neo-Celtic name for 'leek', 'onion' and 'garlic'. Following a suggestion of Alexander Lubotsky he derives Welsh cennin 'leek' (cf. Old Welsh Cennin gl. cipus), Old Cornish kenin euynoc gl. allium, Breton kignen 'garlic', Old Irish cainnenn gl. cipus from Common Celtic *kasn-i[macron]na[macron and compares this protoform with the Russian name for garlic, česnók, from *kesn. The discrepancies in the vocalism and the limited distribution suggest, according to Schrijver, that these words are of non-IE origin' (3). Hmm, this is really useful, including for the notes and bibliography--copy it!

Falileyev, Alexander, Ashwin E. Gohil and Naomi Ward, Dictionary of Continental Celtic Place-Names: A Celtic Companion to the `Barrington Atlas of the Greek and Roman World' (CMCS: Aberystwyth, 2010)

Falk, Hjalmar, ‘Svensk Ordforskning’, Arkiv för nordisk filologi, 37 (1925), 113-39. 136, ‘Ikke uten interesse for bedömmelsen av det nord. sejd er de to vel sikkert beslektede ags. ord for påhekset sygdom; ælfsiden of sidsa’ (136). That’s it.

Falk, Oren, 'A Dark Age Peter Principle: Beowulf’s Incompetence Threshold', Early Medieval Europe, 18 (2010), 2--25. Meantions forthcoming book This Spattered Isle: Violence and Risk in Medieval Iceland.

Fallis, Don, 'Toward an Epistemology of Wikipedia', Journal of the American Society for Information Science and Technology, 59 (2008), 1662-74 http://hdl.handle.net/10150/105728 'The epistemology of testimony looks at how it is possible to come to know something based solely on the fact that somebody else says that it is so' (Fallis 2008, 1663-64), which is what encyclopdedias are all about. 'Most work in epistemology is primarily concerned with how cognitive and perceptual processes within an individual lead to the acquisition of knowledge. In contrast, social epistemology looks at how social processes lead to the acquisition of knowledge' (Fallis 2008, 1664). Wikipedia is the product of mass collaboration, which has been little studied. This strikes me as weird, because 'knowledge' (whatever that is), *is* the product of mass collaboration. So in a way Wikipedia just crystallises questions about what the fuck historians are doing generally. And to judge Wikipedia we need to define our epistemic values. These, Fallis says, have been little studied outside fundamental questions about knowledge. (And of course epistemic values can come into conflict, e.g. speed may come at a cost of reliability: 1669.) It strikes me that the reason why we're now fretting about them is the rise of post-truth politics, which suddenly puts the focus on epistemic values. 1665 Fallon distinguishes misinformation (accidental), disinformation (lying), and humbug/bullshit (fiction). The latter noteworthy in a post-truth context. Issues of instability striking in Wikiedia, but again, as Fallon notes fn 5, inherent in knowledge.

Fantuzzi, Marco, ‘ “Homeric” Formularity in the Argonautica of Apollonius of Rhodes’, in A Companion to Apollonius Rhodius, ed. by Theodore D. Papanghelis and Antonios Rengakos, Mnemosyne: Supplementum, 217 (Leiden: Brill, 2001), pp. 171–92

Farrell, Thomas J., `Introduction: Bahktin, Liminality, and Medieval Literature', in Bakhtin and Medieval Voices, ed. by Thomas J. Farrell (Gainesville: University Press of Florida, 1995), pp. 1--14.

Polyphony: 'That thesis underscores the narow application Bakhtin gives to the term polyphony and distinguishes it from the related terms that he developed later. "Dostoevsky's major heroes are, by the very nature of his creative degign, not only objects of authorial discourse but also subjects of their own directly signifying discourse" (6--7). Polyphone---the authorial instantiation of unprivileged, divergent world views in heroic characters---arises naturally from this multiplicity and interaction of genuine subjects: the authorial voice can claim no ultimate authority over the subject-heroes in Crime and Punishment, The Possessed, and The Brothers Karamazov. Bakhin recognizes precursors to Dostoevsky's poetics, but insists that he alone created "genuine polyphony" (32--34)' (2).

Heteroglossia: basically seems to mean the same as 'registers' as far as I can tell: any language contins different varieties (implying different world-views existing within the speech community). But gets extended in a slightly different sense to literary contexts: 'Literary heterglossia is achieved through a number of now familiar techniques---framing devices, incorporated narratives, speech in dialect---that bring varieties of speech into the novel, highlight the differences between them, and contextualize each of them in a specific world view. That context will mark the limits of each voice's authority, and the limitation of authority is one of the crucial features of any kind of heteroglossia. Such limits are absent from the vatic voice heard in much lyric poetry: Blake's "Hear the voice of the Bard! / Who Present, Past, & Future, sees" illustrates well the kind of authority claimed by what Bakhtin calls the poetic voice.' (3).

Dialogism: not all heterglossic works are dialogic: 'it implies genuine exchange of ideas between different people or different kinds of ideas'.

'Carnival remains a familiar, although perhaps also a particularly problematic, Bakhtinian term. For Bakhtin, it embraces whatever is unofficial, unprogrammed, unsublimated, uncensored, unstratified, and irrepressible. Whatever isn't officially right, is carnival' (5). Fair enough.

Fast, Lawrence E., ‘Hygelac: A Centripetal Force in Beowulf’, Annuale Mediaevale, 12 (1971), 90–99. 97 shows his hand re his own great respect for Hygelac. Not very incisive. Just shows H as a unifying force and important as a model of lordship etc.

Faulkes, Anthony, ‘Descent from the Gods’, Mediaeval Scandinavia, 11 (1978–79), 92–125.

Faulkes, Anthony (ed.), Edda: Prologue and Gylfaginning (Oxford: XXXXX, 1982).

Snorri Sturluson, Edda, ed. and trans. by Anthony Faulkes (London: Dent, 1987); http://vsnrweb-publications.org.uk/EDDArestr.pdf.

Faulkes, Anthony (ed.), Edda: Skáldskaparmál, 2 vols (London: Viking Society for Northern Research, 1998).

Faulkes, Sebastian, A Week in December (London: Hutchinson, 2009)

Faull, Margaret Lindsay, ‘The Semantic Development of Old English Wealh’, Leeds Studies in English, 8 (1975), 20–44.

*Favret-Saada, Jeane, Deadly Words (Cambridge, 1988)

**Fawtier, Robert (ed.), La Vie de Saint Samson (Paris: XXXX, 1912)

Fay, Jacqueline, 'The Farmacy: Wild and Cultivated Plants in Early Medieval England', ISLE: Interdisciplinary Studies in Literature and Environment ([no date]), pp. 1–21 doi:10.1093/isle/isz085

Fay, Jacqueline, ‘Becoming an Onion: The Extra-Human Nature of Genital Difference in the Old English Riddling and Medical Traditions’, English Studies, 101 (2020), 60-78; https://doi.org/10.1080/0013838X.2020.1708083

*Fee, Christopher, ‘Beag & Beaghroden: Women, Treasure and the Language of Social Structure in Beowulf’, Neuphilologische Mitteilungen, 97 (1996), 285–94.

Fehr, Bernhard (ed. and trans.), Die Hirtenbriefe Ælfrics in altenglischer und lateinischer Fassung, repr. with supplement to the introduction by Peter Clemoes, Bibliothek der angelsächsischen Prosa, 9 (Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft, 1966). leets 1 p. 26; 2 p. 56; 4 p. 142 re anti-cross-dressing. Cites Cubbitt 2000b 15 re how st. Eugenia whom &Alfric tells of etc. and who pretends to be a man to get to be a monk etc. isn’t doing anything he’d approve of. 3 Cf. his injunctions against cross-dressing in letters I.115, II.193, 206 (ed. Fehr 1966 [1914], 26, 56, 142).

*Feilberg, Henning Frederick, Bjærgtagen: Studie over en gruppe træk fra nordisk alfetro, Danmarks folkeminder, 5 (København, 1910). Presumably about the tradition of folks getting taken into mountains by elves.

Feilitzen, Olof von, ‘Some Old English Uncompounded Personal Names and Bynames’, Studia Neophilologica, 40 (1968), 5–16.

Dunstanus Saga, ed. by C. E. Fell, Editiones Arnamagnaeanae, Series B, 5 (Copenhagen: Reitzel, 1963)

Fell, Christine, Women in Anglo-Saxon England (Oxford: Blackwell, 1984) c. pp. 29-30. [SF2 245.c.98.241] ‘A major area of legal responsibilty is the protextion of women against rape or seduction, and all the law-codes have fairly full provision. These are, however, offences that are viewed more or less seriously according to the class of the victim. Æðelbert 14 and 16 offer the following carefully thought-out distinctions: if a man lies with the byrele, “cup-bearer” or “serving maid” of an eorl he is to pay twenty shillings compensation; if however she is the byrele of a ceorl … then the compensionation is only six shillings … A woman’s rank therefore makes a considerable difference to the fine of her seducer. Throughout the laws there are places where it is unclear whether we are talking about a ceorl’s “wife” or a female servant. It is also unclear in some instances whether fines are paid to the woman herself, or to some male kinsman, guardian or owner. In the case of slaves the compensation doubtless went ot the owner, as it did if a male slave was injured. It is necessary here to distinguish between slaves of either sex being viewed as property and women being viewed as property. I find no evidence of the second assumption, and a reasonable amount of evidence that when free women were injured in anyway they themselves … were the recipients of the appropriate compensation’ (62). Re seduction and rape, ‘Anglo-Saxon law is quite clear about these distinctions’ (62). Further stuff 62–64. ‘…the laws of Ælfred state that a man may fight without legally incurring any penalty if he finds another man with his wife, daughter, sister or mother, “behind closed doors or under the same blanket” ’ (64). ‘The penalties for adultery as distinct from fornication become much harsher towards the end of the Anglo-Saxon period. Æðelbert 31 shows excellent good sense in its provisions: ‘if a freeman lie with a freeman’s wife let him pay for it with her wergild, and provide another wife out of his own money and bring her to the other’s home’, which looks like a straightforward statement of the rights of divorce, remarriage and financial compensation. Such attitudes were firmly attacked by the church [sic], and it is in the ecclesiastical laws, and in the letters of various missionaries and clerics, that we find the most violent attacks on freedom of sexual behaviour. But this hardly in itself accounts for the particularly unpleasant harshness of Cnut’s laws, a harshness which I do not find paralleled in any early Anglo-Saxon material. It is possible that he was prompted by the greater severity of the Continental attitude. Cnut 53 read: ‘If a woman during her husband’s life commts adultery with another man…her legal husband is to have all her property and she is to lose her nose and her ears’ (64). Hmm, can we argue then for man as sexual threat alone, in otherworldly beings as in laws (and also HbM), whose transgressions cause suffering to women (cf. WlE, WfL) > woman as sexual threat also, who may endanger men’s souls, social stability etc. and so demand scary punishments (cf. Maxims)?

‘The Old English concept wyrd may have undergone a similar tranformation. Scholars of the present generation are rightly reluctant to accept that when we meet the word in our reading of Christian Old English poetry it has any lingering pagan overtones. Yet the fact that we have texts from the Anglo-Saxon period in which scribes use wyrd as a translation of Latin Fortuna, ‘Fortune’, and, in the plural, of Parcae, ‘the Fates’, suggests that it must have seemed to some Anglo-SAxons a reasonable equivalent to these classical female deities of chance and destiny. Wyrd is a feminine noun, and though feminine gender grammatically speaking does not necessarily imply feminine personification the use of the word to translate Latin names of goddesses, and the fact that it is cognate with Old Norse Urðr, a female of supernatural status who wove the loom of destiny, does suggest a pagan past in which wyrd had a similar function, and was similarly personified. The link with weaving persitis in casual references. In the Rhyming Poem the Anglo-Saxon poet tells us that wyrd “wove” events. In another text, gewefe, ‘web’, and wyrd are used side by side as alternative translations of Fortuna’ (27). ‘But on the fringes of Anglo-Saxon paganism there lurked a number of minor supernatural beings. Elves, on the whole deemed to be malevolent to mankind, could be masculine of feminine, ælf or ælfen. The feminine form is found mainly in the translation of the Latin words for various wood or water nymphs’ (29). 31 translates ‘Or the shot of the hægtessan and ‘from the shooting of the hægtessan’, tho’ earlier ‘The work of a hægtesse’ (31).

Fell, Christine, Women in Anglo-Saxon England (Bloomington, 1984). ‘Wainwright’s paper reminds us how in this area [women] as in others we need to watch the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle for its West-Saxon propaganda, and it is important to remember that the suppression of information about female achievement is not necessarily anti-feminist’ (12). 22-4 that women came over in settlement (best ev deployed is onomastic—arch might show this with genetix, perhaps, too?). Literate C9 women probably could not ‘have traced her ancestry back through the femae line to some pagan goddess as her male relatives trace theirs back to Woden’ (25). Tacitus ev re Nerthus 26-7; occurs to me to wonder if male priest a necessary deduction from the original language? Earth mother charm 26-7. ‘Earth is adjured to be filled with food for the use of makind “through God’s embrace”, which can hardly be other than a pregnancy image’ (27). ‘It is not in the least likely that in these later centuries of Anglo-Saxon Christianity a being called “Mother Earth” could have been the object of any formal worship, but the men and women who used this charm personify, invoke and revere her not as she was worshipped by their pagan ancestors, but within the framework of Christian theology’ just like Chaucer’s the ‘noble goddesse’ Nature (27). Wyrd fem., moreover translated Latin goddess names and cognate with Urðr, a female; Rhyming poem says ‘wyrd “wove” events’, implying personification (27). Esp. interesting re women and divination. OE frig=(sexual) love, rare. ?related to Frig of Friday etc.? ‘Old English offers us four interesting words, wælcyrige, wicce, hægtesse and burgrune’ (29) ‘When the Anglo-Saxons meet avenging furies or goddesses of battle in their classical reading, wælcyrige tends to be the word they find for their translations, but they cannot always have been entirely clear about the relationships between their half-forgotten pagan background and the half-understood classical one they meet in the borrowed cultures of Rome or Greece’ (30). Hmm… Tricky.

Aldhelm uses Pythonissa not for ‘priestess of Apollo’s oracle at Delphi, but to the woman in Acts who “possessed a spirit of divination”, puellam habentum spiritum pythonem’ (30). Odd hang up here re immortality, seems a weird issue to worry over. ‘Yet the two Old English words wicce and hægtesse … are both used by Anglo-Saxon scribes to translate on the one hand the mortal PythonissaF and on the other the immortal Fates, the Parcae … Compounds in –rune, helrune, heahrune and burgrune are similarly suggestive and difficult. The element –rune is feminine and implies “one skilled in mysteries”. Thus Pythonissa is glossed not only by the words cited above, but also by heahrune, implying the chief of those with such skills, and helrune, “one skilled in the mysteries of hell” or “of death”, which in orthodox Christian manner equates heathen-worship with devil-worship or necromancy. But we also meet the word helrune in the poem Beowulf, where it is used of devilish beings in general, of Grendel and his kind, without obvious implications of sex. The grammatical fact that the compounds in –rune are feminine implies perhaps that in pagan times there were priestesses or prophetesses skilled in mysteries, but we are as usual up against the difficulty of how far grammatical gender can be relied on’ (30). Meaning of cpd burgrune even tricker (31). Runes (? word) and divination in Germania (31), and women and prophecy (32). ‘We have no evidence that the Anglo-Saxons in general thought of women as having prophetic gifts, but the precarious survival of a word like heahrune and the face that this is used of the Biblical character possessing a spirit of divination, does suggest Anglo-Saxon familiarity with the concept of women who prophesy’ (32). NB tho’ bede has only male paga priest; Ælfric shows no predilection for female assoc with witchery etc (32-3). Except that ‘He tells us that such women “go to cross-roads and draw their children through the earth and thus commit their children to the devil” ’ (33). ‘…as we enter the Christian period we can see clearly how pagan belief degenerates into superstitious practice’ ! (34).

‘Wif, which is the most common [word used for women] … is obscure in origin, not present, for example, in the earliest known form of the Germanic languages, Gothic. It could be etymologically connected with the words for “weaving” and this would certainly make good sense in so far as the duties of cloth-making seem to be the ones most consistently linked with the feminine role’ (39). So wryd things as weaving would if so be very intimately connected with femininity, in a chicken-and-egg sort of way. Sword side/distaff side idea in OE (spinelhealf) (39-40). Weaving kit in female graves (40). Slaves specified in will to have weaving/embroidery skills (41). A bit more semantic assoc—seamster etc originally fem. (41). Legal ev re women weavers etc 41-2. Not much at all on food 46-50 Even poss that most food jobs shared (48-50) reeve seems to have ultimate control of kitchen in rectitudines (48). Ælfric’s colloquy questions usefulness of a cook and OE has little specific cookery vocab; hints that folks just got on with it (48-9). Very keen on the idea that women had freedom of choice in marriage (57-8). Statements like ‘There is no indication that any direct profit accrued to the girl’s family and no indication that her wishes were not considered, although parents occasionally allowed their prejudices to show’ (58). I accept that in our 2 marriage contracts, early C11, ‘Virtually every clause of the agreement is concerned with protecting and safe-guarding the woman’s interests’ (58), but the point that ‘he gave her a pound’s weight of gold, to induce her to accept his suit’ in contract means that ‘It is certainly clear … that we are dealing with acceptance of the suit by the woman herself’ (58) ignores possibility of rhetorical glossing of quite different process. NB that these are high status and in one case involving Archbish’s sister—so could well show church infl and little trad stuff, cf. Jochens 1986.

Women studiously legislated not necessarily guilty of husband’s crimes (59): ‘Thus, from the beginning to the end of the period the laws recognise an element of financial independence and responsibility in the wife’s status. This is also borne out by the archaeological evidence’ (59).

89- re female magnates and rulers. Quite a few of them. Æðelflæd gets a lot. Fell NBs that Henry of Huntingdon’s ‘verse dwells mainly, as indeed William of Malmesbury does, on the paradox of her feminine nature and masculine achievements … But it is of some interest that this “paradox” seems to strike the post-Conquest writers much more forcibly than it does any of Æðelfæd’s contemporaries. We do not note any particular expressions of astonishment in the Mercian Register’. Hmm, interesting but ex silentio, and NB she turns up in Annales Cambriae, and Annals of Ulster as Alfred and Edward don’t—perhaps to be interpreted as because of her sex (92). But it remains impressive how many powerful and land-owning women ASE can muster.

‘There are, of course, far fewer charters from men and women of lower rank than from kings or queens, and the ones that survive on the whole deal with bequests to ecclesiastical foundations. Even so it is remarkable how many of them are by husband and wife jointly, and it is I think even more remarkable how often the grants of laymen are to husband and wife jointly. We would not expect there to be very many records of gifts by individual women other than royalty, but these too occur. References in these documents to land sold by [95] women, given away by women, inherited by women or in some other way under their control make it clear that they moved in the world of landed property with as much assurance and as full rights as the men of their family’ (94-5). More on female power over property 95-

Double monasteries in ASE always ruled by an abbess (109). ‘From the time that Christianity came to England men and women shared equally, not only in conversion to the new faith, but in the learning that accompanied it’ (109). Re prose de Viriginitate, ‘It is significant to note that there is no hint whatsoever of the patronising tone concerning the inferior abilities and status of women that characterises the early Middle English Ancrene Wisse’ (110). Leoba form for Leofa, interesting re albin (111). Equal relationship between Bucge and Boniface 111-13. Not sure I entirely believe it, but fairly convincing.

Fell, Christine, ‘Runes and Semantics’, in Old English Runes and their Continental Background, ed. by Alfred Bammesberger, Altenglische Forschungen, 217 (Heidelburg: Winter, 1991), pp. 195–229 [779.c.170.154 NW5]. 196- re B-T being out of date, might be useful to cite. Notes runian ‘to whisper’, runere, ‘whisperer’, but no evi for B-T ‘a whisper’ for run (197). Re. BT ‘mystery’: ‘it is important to bear in mind that though Anglo-Saxon homilists refer often enough to pagan beliefs and practices they do not use the words run or geryne when they do so’ (198). Cool re semantics of leodrunan etc. geryne definitely used of Xian mysteries, scientific oddities in Byrhtnoth too (she suggests trans ‘evidence, data’), and such appropriate things (206-8). Seamntics of run 209-16. run in Cynewulf 209-12. ‘When the same poet can use run both with the adject [sic] halig and in the compounds wælrun and inwitrun the word itself clearly has neither positive nor negative connotations’ (211). Not necessarily of course—fool. But reasonable point, and ev seems clear that run doen’t have bad connotations really as a simplex (214-15 good on this too). æt rune clearly means ‘in discussion’ ‘wherever it occurs’ (211, cf. 211-12). Not even necessarily in secret (despite dictionaries’ preconditioning) 212. Seems to imply that ‘thoughts, knowledge’ would do fine for run (esp. 215-16).

But runian, runere (Ælfric gloss only in OE), runung all perjoriative connotations (218). Hmm. Only late, in Aldhelm glosses etc. ON ryna ‘enquire’, perhaps ‘chat’; rynendr ‘are friends or counsellors, not whistperes nor accusers’ (218). Speculates that since the whispering thing is big in OHG glosses, the later OE uses are due to c10 continental influence (218-20). Interesting reversal of my ideas re elves anyway.

MED gives even wider range, with ‘letter’ coming in. Orm much as OE, strikingly, 221-23. Runes as kinda weird inscriptions coming in with Lagamon runstauen 4967, Erkenwalk roynyshe 52 (223-4). Lagamon has sælcuð used of them too, cf. the loch. 223-5 re ME ‘letter’ meanings.

‘There is in the Old English medical texts a charm against magic and yfelre leodrunan which Page discussed briefly in his article on “Anglo-Saxon Runes and Magic”. His argument is that where –run/-rune occurs in compounds clearly connected with magic the idea of magic is more probably in he first than the second element. One might also point out that if these leodrunan have to be specified as “evil” they are evidently not necessarily so [NO!]. Page also suggests, more tentatively than is necessary, that [226] “it is tempting to relate leodrunan to OE leoð “song”, whose ON cognate lióð occasionally has the meaning “charm” ’. Page was tempted; Fell succumbed. There is after all no credible alternative reading and Elene bears witness to a compound leoðurun. La3amon has four references to leodrunen’ (225-6). 2 in ll. 7732-41, re casting lots, expansion of Wace ‘who merely says that the king consulted his wise men’ (226). Caligula only (226). Mason trans ‘incantations’, sung by ‘world-wise monne’ (226). ‘The existence of the compound leodrunen, especially its connection with the casting of lots, will not be without interest for those who link runes with divination. But in one of La3amon’s other uses of the compound it can have no pejorative overtones since it refers to portents at the birth of Christ’ (227, re. l. 4549). Seolcuðe again tho’. Likewise, there is a hint that the manufacturing of ‘a luue-ron’ could effect love-magic in Middle English traditions. In the mid-thirteenth century, the Franciscan friar Thomas of Hailes wrote a lyric which he termed a ‘louue-ron’ as a love-poem for ‘A mayde Cristes’ (‘a maiden of Christ’). Fell derives this usage of roun at least in part from Norse usage, as it is not paralleled in the other English evidence (1991, 228). Hmm, sort this out and use.

‘Evidence suggests that in the early Anglo-Saxon period runes were so thoroughly absorbed into the Christian culture that they troubled no-one. With the coming of the Vikings, a people for whom runes were still associated with magic, incantation, charm, superstition, pagan belief etc. (if etc. there be) the Anglo-Saxon waters were faintly troubled. Ælfric speaks of runes and magic together’ (228).

Fell, C. E., ‘Paganism in Beowulf: A Semantic Fairy-Tale’, in Pagans and Christians: The Interplay between Christian Latin and Traditional Germanic Cultures in Early Medieval Europe, ed. by T. Hofstra, L. A. J. R. Houwen and A. A. MacDonald, Germania Latina, 2 (Groningen, 1995), pp. 9–34. ‘The list of folk-tale creatures, the eotenas, ylfe and orcneas are so clearly labelled progegny of Cain as Grendel is so clearly labelled “heathen” that this shows, not lurking paganism, but an author determined to detach himself from any such superstitions. The mentality is like that of King Alfred when he carefully explains that “what we call wyrd that is God’s providence” or defends his description of the goldsmith Weland as “wise” on the grounds that Weland was a skilled craftsman—just in case anyone foolishly though he might be responding to supernatural implications of pre-Christian Germanic legend’ (25)

Fell, Christine E., ‘Words and Women in Anglo-Saxon England’, in ‘Lastworda Betst’: Essays in Memory of Christine E. Fell with her Unpublished Writings, ed. by Carole Hough and Kathryn A. Lowe (Donington: Tyas, 2002), pp. 198–215. Semantics of man as ‘person’ 201-202 and problems the masculine assumption has caused with poetry 202-5, charters 205-7, ASC 207. 207-9 re þegn can denote women, and women can be in charge of thegns. NBs plausibility that women could be ealdormen tho’ finds no clear-cut example same pp. Worth citing generally on power and independence of (noble) women in ASE, esp. pp. 205-13.

*Fellows, Jennifer, ‘Mothers in Middle English Romance’, in Women and Literature in Britain 1150-1500, ed. by Carol M. Meale (Cambridge, 1993), pp. 41-60.

Fellows-Jensen, Gillian, ‘Cultic Place-Names: A View from the Danelaw’, in Sakrale navne: rapport fra NORNAs sekstende symposium i Gilleleje 30.11.–2.12.1990, ed. by Gillian Fellows-Jensen and Bente Holmberg, NORNA-rapporter, 48 (Uppsala: Norna-Förlaget, 1992), pp. 265–72. 270 disses claims that OE names attest to Es- forms, worth cfing anyway in discussion of esa, *ese etc.

Fellows-Jensen, Gillian, 'Nordic and English in East Anglia in the Viking Period', NOWELE: North-Western European Language Evolution, 50/51 (2007), 93-108. 'Abrams and Parsons have listed getting on for 200 entries in their bibliography and I find it flattering that no fewer than 24 of these are books and articles written by me. There are only two other of my papers that I think ought to have been included in their list' (95)!!

*Fentress, James and Chris Wickham, Social Memory (1992)

Ferguson, Mary H., ‘Folklore in the Lais of Marie de France’, Romanic Review, 57 (1966), 3–24. Basically a folk motif catalogue of the Lais. No cool ‘fairy groom’ motif noted, just ‘lover as bird’ kind of thing. B641.1

Ferlampin-Acher, Christine, Fées, ‘bestes’ et ‘luitons’: Croyances et merveilles dans les romans français en prose (XIIIe–XIVe siècles) (Paris: Presses de l’Univeristé de Paris-Sorbonne, 2002)

Ferré, Vincent and Alicia C. Montoya, `Speaking of the Middle Ages Today: European and Transatlantic Perspectives', in Medievalism on the Margins, ed. by Karl Fugelso, Vincent Ferré and Alicia C. Montoya, Studies in Medievalism, 24 (Cambridge: Brewer, 2015), pp. 89--91. 'Modern medievalism has tended to have a strong Anglo-American focus, overwhelmingly privileging the study of examples drawn from the Anglo-American world and from English-language arts and literature in particular' (89).

Fewster, Derek, ‘Approaches to the Conversion of the Finns: Ideologies, Symbols, and Archaeological Features’, in Christianizing Peoples and Converting Individuals, ed. by Guyda Armstrong and Ian N. Wood, International Medieval Research, 7 (Turnhout: Brepols, 2000), pp. 89–102. Characteristic dissing of historiography followed by 98–101 noting a graduate transition from cremation to inhumation burial beginning in the west C11—pre Crusades then. Tradition of family/hamlet burial grounds seems to be replaced by chruchyeard burials by early C13. War not prominent in his thinking; conversion from the East seen as a viable possibility.

Fewster, Derek, ‘Visions of National Greatness: Medieval Images, Ethnicity, and Nationalism in Finland, 1905–1945’, in On Barbarian Identity: Critical Approaches to Ethnicity in the Early Middle Ages, ed. by Andrew Gillett, Studies in the Early Middle Ages, 4 (Turnhout: Brepols, 2002), pp. 123–46.

Fewster, Derek, Visions of Past Glory: Nationalism and the Construction of Early Finnish History. Studia Fennica Historica 11 (Helsinki: SKS, 2006)

Fidjestøl, Bjarne, The Dating of Eddic Poetry: A Historical Survey and Methodological Investigation, ed. by Odd Einar Haugen, Bibliotheca Arnamagnæana, 41 (Copenhagen, 1999).

P. J. C. Field, “Gildas and the City of the Legions,” The Heroic Age 1 (1999): http://www.heroicage.org

Filppula, Markku, Juhani Klemola and Heli Pitkänen (eds.), The Celtic Roots of English, Studies in Languages, 37 (Joensuu, 2002).

Finberg, H. P. R., The Early Charters of the West Midlands, Studies in Early English History, 2 (Leicester, 1961). Might have ælfestun context, tho’ not in index.

Finberg, H. P. R., The Early Charters of Wessex, Studies in Early English History, 3 (Leicester: Leicester University Press, 1964)

Finch, R. G. (ed. and trans.), The Saga of the Volsungs (London: Nelson, 1965). http://vsnrweb-publications.org.uk/Volsunga%20saga.pdf

Findon, Joanne, A Woman’s Words: Emer and Female Speech in the Ulster Cycle (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1997). 8–12 re sovereignty goddesses etc. and the insistence that women in early Irish lit are nature, men culture, and how although it can sometimes work, it’s a bit of a problem, like. Re Táin Bó Froech ‘This story is clearly set in a mortal world of marriage negotiations and bride-prices’ (32), contrast with Cross’s judgment of itas clearly fairy sort of narrative or somesuch! She’s right, no doubt.

Ruth Finnegan, Oral Poetry: Its Nature, Significance and Social Context (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1977).

Finnur Friðriksson, ‘Language Change vs. Stability in Conservative Language Communities: A Case Study of Icelandic’ (unpublished Ph.D. thesis, University of Gothenburg, 2000). https://gupea.ub.gu.se/bitstream/2077/18713/1/gupea_2077_18713_1.pdf

Finnur Jónsson (ed.), Hauksbók: udgiven efter de Arnamagnæanske håndskrifter no. 371, 544 og 675, 4o samt forskellige papirshåndskrifter (Copenhagen, 1892–96)

Finnur Jónsson, Den oldnorske og oldislandske litteraturs historie, 2nd edn, 3 vols (Copenhagen: Gad, 1920-24). http://archive.org/details/denoldnorskeogol03finnuoft etc. 1st edn online too: http://www.archive.org/stream/denoldnorskeogo01jngoog/denoldnorskeogo01jngoog_djvu.txt etc. 1894 - 1902.

Finnur Jónsson (ed.), Den norsk-islandske skjaldedigtning, 4 vols (Copenhagen: Gyldendal, 1912–15).

Finnur Jónsson (ed.), Rímnasafn: Samling af de ældste islandske rimer, Samfund til udgivelse af gammel nordisk litteratur, 35, 2 vols (Copenhagen: Møller and Jørgensen, 1905-22). First page of the unpaginatied intro, associates Sigurðar saga fóts with fornaldarsögur.

Finnur Jónsson, Ordbog til de af Samfund til Udg. ad Gml. Nord. Litteratur Udgivne Rímur samt til de af Dr. O. Jiriczek Udgivne Bósarimur (Copenhagen, 1926–28). Rímur up to c. 1550 (i)—think. Statement re completeness? s.v. álfkona: ‘f. elvekvinde (en, der væver en tryllekappe) [elf-woman, one who weaves witchcraft], Sk II, 26’; álfr ‘m, alv, pl Kl V, 18, á—ar fornir Bó V, 25; i kenninger for mænd; menja á. G VI, 50, Bl V, 23; brodda á. Má I, 56, II, 43, odda á. Má VII, 14; sjalda á. Lo III, 25, tjǫrgu á. La II, 56; usædvanlig er en kenning som Þróttar a. Sf III, 44. Jfr. skreyti-’. s.v. skreytiálfr ‘m, prægtig alv, skarlats s., mand, (egl. som pryder sig med en skarlagenskappe), Gei II, 41’.

NB sv. 1 ás has no occurrences in kennings for warriors or people. Ah…

Finnur Jónsson (ed.), Saga Óláfs Tryggvasonar: Af Oddr Snorrason, munk (Copenhagen: Gad, 1932).

Firchow, Evelyn Scherabon and Kaaren Grimstad (eds), Elucidarius in Old Norse Translation, Stofnun Árna Magnússonar á Íslandi, 36 (Reykjavík, 1989) [752:1.c.5.40]. List of authors who’ve argued for infl. on Eluc on vernacular lit pp. xxv-xxvi. No sign of Simek’s point from the dictionary, tho’ cf. Simek 1984, Clunies Ross re Skáldskaparmál.

*Fischer, Andreas, Engagement, Wedding and Marriage in Old English (Heidelberg, 1986)

*Fischer, S., Runes, Latin and Christianity in Merovingian Gaul (Uppsala, 2000)

Fisher, Mark, Capitalist Realism: Is there no Alternative? (Winchester, UK; Washington [D.C.]: Zero, 2009). 'The 80s were the period when capitalist realism was fought for and established, when Margaret Thatcher's doctrine that 'there is no alternative' - as succinct a slogan of capitalist realism as you could hope for - became a brutally self-fulfilling prophecy' (p. 8). 'It is impossible to conceive of fascism or Stalinism without propaganda - but capitalism can proceed perfectly well, in some ways better, without anyone making a case for it. Žižek's counsel here remains invaluable. 'If the concept of ideology is the classic one in which the illusion is located in knowledge', he argues,

then today's society must appear post-ideological: the prevailing ideology is that of cynicism; people no longer believe in ideological truth; they do not take ideological propositions seriously. The fundamental level of ideology, however, is not of an illusion masking the real state of things but that of an (unconscious) fantasy structuring our social reality itself. And at this level, we are of course far from being a post-ideological society. Cynical distance is just one way ... to blind ourselves to the structural power of ideological fantasy: even if we do not take things seriously, even if we keep an ironical distance, we are still doing them.

Fisher, Mark, and Jeremy Gilbert, 'Capitalist Realism and Neoliberal Hegemony: A Dialogue', New Formations, 80--81 (2013), 89--101. DOI:10.3898/NEWF.80/81.05.2013. 'Your use of the term ‘capitalist realism’ seems to designate, at its simplest, both the conviction that there is no alternative to capitalism as a paradigm for social organisation, and the mechanisms which are used to disseminate and reproduce that conviction amongst large [90] populations. As such it would seem to be both a ‘structure of feeling’, in Williams’ terms (or perhaps an ‘affective regime’ in a slightly more contemporary register) and, in quite a classical sense, a hegemonic ideology, operating as all hegemonic ideologies do, to try to efface their own historicity and the contingency of the social arrangements which they legitimate.'

*Flasdieck, H. ‘Harlekin. Germanischer Mythos in romanischer Wandlung’, Anglia, 61 (1937), 225-340. Seems to be standard ref re the figure…

*1 TI: Sir Orfeo and the Flight from the EnchantersAU: Fletcher,-Alan-J.SO: Studies-in-the-Age-of-Chaucer:-The-Yearbook-of-the-New-Chaucer-Society (SAC). 2000; 22: 141-77IS: 0190-2407AN: 2003873110Complete RecordIn Database: MLA Bibliography 1994-2004/03.

Fletcher, Richard, The Conversion of Europe: From Paganism to Christianity, 371-1386 AD (London: HarperCollins, 1997)

*Flint, V. I. J., ‘Monsters and the AntipodesXXXX’, Viator, 15

Flint, Valerie J., 'The Early Medieval "Medicus", the Saint--and the Enchanter', Social History of Medicine, 2 (1989), 127-45 doi:10.1093/shm/2.2.127. Presented as an exploratory/introductory piece, based on merovingian sources, and inviting similar approaches--useful to cite for the fact that I'm doing so? Some arguing that hagiography is actually useful; 'Theprominence given to, and services rendered by, this small sample will, I hope, provide an incentive for [130] further enquiries, and support this plea for an extended exploration of sources of this kind in the writing of medical history' (129-30). 'It will, primarily as a result of the guidance given by these sources, offer one firm proposition. It will attempt to suggest that the roole of the 'medicus' is, and far more often than we incline to suppose, socially and emotionally conditioned by, and deeply dependent upon, two recurring and readily identifiable figures, the figures of the saint--and the enchanter' (139). Sees enchanters as prominent as antagonists to SS (130-31). 'Once the enchanter is brought into view, it becomes ever more clear that the borders between the social roles of all the three healers, and between their ranks within the social and religious hierarchy, can become blurred and disputed as sympathy for certain forms of Christianity waxes and wanes, as hopes for cures are either fulfilledor disappointed, and as saints, 'medici' and 'incantatores' vie with one another for local sympathy and support'--sounds rather like Markku's Malawi (131). Medicus as 'sandwiched' between other two healers and an important mediary. 131-34 quick tour of primary sources for medicus. 133 Alcuin has things to say on the medicus in 801, basically as someone who knows about natural properties of plants and so serves Creator. 134-5 SS who succeed where medici fail. Merits of sources 135-36, including that they may indicate the importance of medici in their attempts to belittle them. I suspect that A-S sources don't have all these medici running around, and I suspect it's because the medicus is a basically Roman institution: and therefore that A-S hagiographers want to conflate medicus and sanctus, or at least align them. 'Saints, and 'medici', the, could and did compete with, and react upon, each other, and the better understanding of the social role of the one does require at least some investigation into the social role of the other' (137). Saints vs enchanters (incantores) 137- Medici have their flaws, but enchanters totally bad guys and dangerous (138). Medicus in between in the sense of being less good than the saint but better than the enchanter, and useful against the enchanter at that (138-39). At least one issue is that enchanters implicitly rely on supernatural assistance, and patently the wrong kind--power of demons 140-41. Why can't historians of medicine punctuate?! Finishes with some musings on late C16 English healing situation: ' It seems, to a very inexpert viewer, that the public influence of the saint and his shrines had all but vanished from England by this period, and his place been taken by uncoordinated and localized competition for Christian thaumaturgical powers;64 but that that of the non-Christian enchanter had not, for the public persecution of persons for witchcraft and enchantment had become, on the contrary, exceptionally frequent' (144)

Flint, Valerie, The Rise of Magic in Early Medieval Europe (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1991) [K540 FLI anthrop], 115, 165, re elfshot. ‘…in their attempt to find a place for unreason deeper than, rather than this side of, reason, the early Middle Ages in Europe display a good deal more enlightenment about the enotional need for that magic which sustains devotion and delight than does the post-Reformation Western wolrd in general, or, come to that, the “Enlightenment” itself. This shocking proposition requires more proof for its sustenance than can be given to it here, but its enunciation is perhaps a start. The title I have chosen does, within this context, help to express my very strong conviction that some, at least, of the wiser spirits within the early medieval Christian Church were alerted to the benefits of the emotional chartge certain sorts of magic offered and tried hard to nourish and encourage this form of energy; and they were alerted too (again perhaps to a greater degree than some of their successors) to the advantages the accommodation of non-Christian magical practices afforded in the matter of the peaceful penetration of societies very different from their own’ (4).--- ‘Any decision about whether a given event is preternatural or not, and elements of it irrational, will depend, of course, upon the views of nature and of reason current when it takes place. Further chasms of language and discipline open before one’s feet. In general, however, this much may perhaps be said. Where nature is thought to encompass all that is not purely human nature, where its forces appear to be hostile and where reasoned knowledge of its working is small, the possibilities for preternatural intervention will be feared. Conversely, as nature lessens, as it were, in stature, where its influence appears to be benign, and where human scientific knowledge of its workings has grown, the scope for the preternatural may diminish—but so too may the awe and terror it inspires. Under the first dispensation we may expect competition for the power that magic as a form of control seems to hold out, but anxiety about its practice and alarm about its practitioners. Under the second, the need for such magic may seem to be less urgent, but, paradoxically, that which it has to offer may be a little easier peacefully and generally to accept. I shall try to suggest that, in the period with which we shall be concerned, we begin with the first state of affairs, but we end with the second’ (6). ‘The pseudepigraphical Book of Enoch, for instance, insisted that the human race was taught the magical arts by fallen angels (they taught them, in fact, to their wives, chosen from the daughters of men, and thus the damage was done)’ (18). Source for Snorri on seiðrin Yngl. VII? And cf. O’Donaghue 2003. Check Kirby and Elucidarius.

56 the De divortio Lotharii et Tetbergae by Archbishop Hincmar of Rheims, accusing Lothar II’s mistress ‘of using witchcraft in the affair’ (Flint implies this originates generally and is used by Hincmar—ev?). See also 155ff. re use of demons to exculpate Waldburga, Lothar’s mistress, in part. 63:Magic clearly used for enchantment in Frankia 860. Paschasius Radbert, C9, disses Louis the Pious for having his court full of diviners for a while in Vita Waldae, MGH SS ii (1829), 553-54 (MT). I wonder if this makes the ref to diviners in Bwf pointed, or non-heathen? (63). And Paschasius Radbert not surprised by their existence, but their presence. (63-4). Hincmar reckon’s they’re all over the shop at Lother II’s court too 64-6. ‘They would drive themselves demented by consuming special foods and drinks. They would allow themselves to be hypnotized by “strigae”, or sucked dry by vampires, or changed into members of the opposite sex. We must allow something here of course for the passion of the polemicist; but a truly wild inaccuracy would hardly have served his cause’ (64). PL125 c. 717. ‘To suggest that we arew concerned here mainly, or even partly, with “pagan survivals” is to put the matter altogether too feebly. This is not a case of faint and lingering traces and last gasps, but of a whole alternative world of intercession’ (69). Gives the impression that Ælfric mentions love-magic vol i EETS 1881, 370,375 without parallel of Caesarius (69-70). Witches etc. as aspects of power struggles 70-74.

‘The magic of the heavens poured into Christian Europe, and it could be activated in many different ways. It might spring from the stars or from the planets. Airy daimones might bring it to bear upon humans. It could be borne by projectiles from the heavens such as comets and falling stars, by lightning flashes or thunderclaps, in pestilence or harvest-bearing rains, vapors, storms, on the arrows of elves.’ etc. (87).

‘The mention of “certain ills of the body” and, especially, of the sensitivity and graded tolerance needed in that combat against magic which sought to preserve a sense of hope, brings us briefly to the questions of pestilence brought by the air (and often associated with thunder), and of “elfshot”; for the treatment of this aspect of the magic of the heavens is, in this context, most rewarding. The idea that illness could fall from the air, or be inflicted by missiles shot through the air by malevolent supernatural agencies, was (and is) as pervasive as the belief in the supernatural origins of storms. It may be traced backward at least as far as the Iliad, wherein the arrows of Apollo brought pestilence upon the Greeks camped before Troy; and Evans-Pritchard, of course, found among the Azande a belief in “witches [who] shoot objects, called ahu mangu, things of witchcraft, into the bodies of those whom they wish to injure. This leads to pain in the place where the missile is lodged, and a witch doctor, in his role of leech, will be summoned to extract the offending objects, which may be material objects or worms and grubs’. In the early Middle Ages the same notion was contained in the idea of elfshot, a term applied to little arrows thought to be sent through the air to cause harm. We find mention of elfshot in Anglo-Saxon sources above all, many of which prescribe cures for the illness inflicted, and some of which involve priests in a role not dissimilar to that ascribed to the Zande witch doctors. Lacnunga, for example, contains this direction: ‘If a horse or other beast be “shot”: take dock seed and Scottish wax. Let a mass-priest sing twelve masses over them, and put holy water on them. And put it then on the horse or whatever beast it be.” It is easy to see here how vulnerable priests were made, by such recommendations, to charges of failure and reproaches of the sort Gregory VII condemns; yet the risk was clearly thought by many to be an acceptable one. We are here again in the no-man’s-land between rejected and accepted magic, and [116] once more in danger of trespassing upon the preserve proper to the next chapter; but the danger is instructive, for it is from this very no-man’s-land that we learn best the quality of the dilemma with which the ecclesiastical authorities, especially, were constantly faced. If a belief is deeply rooted, then failure either to eradicate it wholly or to respond to it may expose the believer the quacks or racketeers. What then is to be done? The Anglo-Saxon sources are especially full of an attitude toward elfshot, and many related anxieties about non-Christian magic, which was very different from that adopted by Agobard toward the tempestarii. They manifest a readiness both to assess the strength and harmfulness of the belief, and to risk a response well short of its total eradication and, [comma,sic] the punishing of adherents—or, alternatively, of “science”. Non-Christian magic contained commodities both delicate and deeply valuable, commodities which would prompt some, at least, to urge that they could be brought through into Christianity with both safety and advantage’ (115-16).

122-25 re Diana and her women and drweams of flying witches. Basically Regino De ecclesiasticis disciplinis II, ccclxiv (PL 132, 352) and Burchard (PL 140, 973). Transs of two useful passages. ‘The fact that in these particular flying dreams the leaders of such flights are, in the early Middle Ages, seemingly always female, and so too are those who follow them in their journeys throught the night skies, might tempt one to connect them with the psychology of female repression, and especially with the repression of feminine aspirations by this church [sic re. caps]. Two features of this evidence should be borne, however, most carefully in mind when one is assaulted by such a temptation. Firstly, the dreams are discussed strictly within the context of an ecclesiastical discipline anxious to safeguard its ward from aery demonic influences in which it genuinely believed. Secondly, the penalties recommended here are gentler than those to be found in secular laws for deviations verging upon witchcraft and thus are rather protective than truly punitive. The relative lightness of the penalties Burchard recommends is, in fact, dewserving of far more notice than is the fact that he singles out women for condemnation’ (124).

133-34 A-Ss particularly interested in the moon.

‘We know from other sources about SAint Sebastian’s supposed power over pestilence. His death by arrow shot was thought to give him special abilities in the matter of transforming the arrows of disease shot by elves or demons (“elfshot” in fact) into instrucments for goo … The idea that disease was shot throught the air by malignant agencies did much to keep illness which was otherwise inexplicable within the sphere controlled by demons, and to that extent again demons did those liable to be accused of malevolent witchcraft a service’ (165). ‘A charm against fever, using these and further angel names, is to be found in the early eighth century, and so close in time to Boniface’s concerns’ (169). *E. A. Lowe, The Bobbio Missal (London, 1920), p. 153.

Weaving and Binding 226-31 (weaving 226-29). Hincmar in De divortio Lotharii et Tetbergae, drawing on ?Isidore and Life of Eligius (227). Burchard reiterated prohibition against woemn who ‘pursue vanities when they are weaving’ borrowed from Martin of Braga PL140,835; Burchard elaborates tho’ (227). 230-31 re voodoo job in A-S charter. Weaving cf. smithing? And does making dolls etc. relate? or not really. Flint NBs norns (not parcae) 229.

231-39 ‘condemned love-magic’. ‘In addition to the sources mentioned above, there are many surviving early medieval poems, sermons, penitentials, and secular law-codes that mention love magic, and love magic of those these kinds [aphrodisiac and opposite]. The earlier and Greco-Roman ones, interestingly, are not quite so insistent upon the power of women as are the Germanic. The Christian poet Prudentius of the fourth/fifth centuries, for instance, tells of how adept [234]…’ blad (234). Wonder if I believe her? 235 love-magic in C6 penitential of Finnean, Bieler 80-81. Not particularly interesting, but hmm. ‘…it does seem true to say that some of the concern the early European Christian authorities expressed about the activities of women at their weaving may have been connected with a larger concern that certainly did feel about the magical expertise displayed by women in matters of human love; and that women were, in the period, generally thought to be preeminent in this last sphere as well. Secondly, it also seems that the interventions of women in matters of love earned them a form of censure which was widely supported and especially severe’ (238). ‘Once more, it is worth taking general note that not all ancient love-magic beliefs were frowned upon with equal harshness, and this again for complex and well-considered reasons, reasons often associated with the preservation of persons accused of magic from too severe a form of revenge. A memory of the magical incubi and succubi of a pagan past, demons thought capable of assuming a human shape and seducing their victims (called among the Franks “Dusii”), for instance, persisted; it was even indulged by no less a figure than Saint Augustine. It is spoken of, again, by both Hincmar and Rabanus, and Burchard mentions a belief in “sylvan ones” who make love, then vanish—a belief for which he prescribes a very light penatly indeed. The belief persisted well into the twelfth century. Dusii or sylvaticae could be blamed for a state if affairs, an adulterous pregnancy, perhaps, which might bring down a savage penalty at purely secular hands. There were, then, sound Christian reasons for perpetuating belief in magic of this sort, as there had been for bringing the demons through as a whole’ (239).

311-13 re wið ælfsidene. ‘The idea that illnes could fall from the air, or be inflicted by missiles shot through the air by malevolent supernatural agencies, was (and is) as pervasive as belief in the supernatural origins of storms’ (115). Specifies ‘early Middle Ages’, foolishly. ‘We find mention of elfshot in ANGLO-sAXON SOURCES ABOVE ALL’ (115). Oh dear. Do we find mentions at all elsewhere? But re the charm: ‘It is easy to see how vulnerable prists were made, by such reccommendations, to charges of failure and reproaches of the sort Gregory VII condemns [in letter of 1080 to Hákon k. of Denmark]; yet the risk was clearly thought by many to be an acceptable one’ (115)—interesting because you can invert it to show the ease of demonising other beneficial forces like elves etc. Greg sez ‘You ascribe to your priests the inclemency of the weather, foulness of the air and certain ills of the body’ (114). ‘The Anglo-Saxon sources are especially full of an attitude toward elfshot … They manifest a readiness both to assess the strength and harmfulness of the belief, and to risk a response well short of its total eradication’ (116). Well, never mind the –shot bit, but you could argue vs this re the elf bit too to a point! ‘We know from other sources about Saint Sebastian’s supposed power over pestilence. His death by arrow shot was thought to give him special abilities in the matter of transforming the arrows of disease shot by elves or demons (‘elfshot’ in fact) into instruments for good’, citing only ‘AS Januarii ii (feast, 20 January), 278’. Presumably, the usual business of mixing up psalmic arrows and real ones.

312-22 re OE med texts, nowt v. exciting and lacks that Cameron rationality perspective. 301-28 re ‘Christian Medical magic’ generally.

Flint, Valerie I. J., ‘Magic in English Thirteenth-Century Mircale Collections’, in The Metamorphosis of Magic from Late Antiquity to the Early Modern Period, ed. by Jan N. Bremmer and Jan R. Veenstra, Groningen Studies in Cultural Change, 1 (Leuven, 2002), pp. 117–31.

Flobert, Pierre (ed. and trans.), La Vie Ancienne de Saint Samson de Dol (Paris: CNRS Editions, 1997) [532:01.c.20.31 NF4]

Flom, George Tobias, Scandinavian Influence on Southern Lowland Scotch: A Contribution to the Study of the Linguistic Relations of English and Scandinavian (New York, 1900).

Florén, Anders, Göran Rydén, Ludmila Dashkevich, D. V. Gavrilov and Sergei Ustiantsev, 'The Social Organisation of Work at Mines, Furnaces and Forges', in Iron-making Societies: Early Industrial Development in Sweden and Russia, 1600--1900, ed. by Maria Ågren (New York: Berghahn, 1998), pp. 61--138.

**Flowers, Stephen E., Runes and Magic: Magical Formulaic Elements in the Older Runic Tradition, American State University Studies 1,53 (New York, 1986) [S D-H Flowers, Stephen E. Runes]

*Foley, J. M., ‘Epic and Charm in Old English and Serbo-Croatian Oral Tradition’, in Comparative Criticism: A Yearbook, ed. by E. S. Schaffer (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1981), pp. 71–92.

Foley, John Miles, Immanent Art: from Structure to Meaning in Traditional Oral Epic (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1991). 195–214 basically says that formulaic epithets invoke a wider range of connotations because of all the other times when people have heard them used. Wow. I think—I found it hard to concentrate when reading this, and only partly because I was tired. What room does it leave for irony? Re Þæt wæs god cyning type formula. ‘The refrain-like nature of this brief sentence is very prominent in Beowulf, as the poet deploys it to confer kingly status extratextually at fie points in the narrative. The first, and probably most recognizable, acts as a rhetorical closure for the small capsule on Scyld Screfing’s heroic kingliness (4–11a), during which he is praised for keeping enemies at bay and his homeland in order; following the þæt wæs god cyning marker, the tale of his descendants and funderal assumes center stage. After this foundational beginning, wherein the Danish paradigm to which warrior-kings may aspire is established with the aid of this key phrase, the next two occurrences, both of which pertain to the aging and powerless regent Hrothgar, will echo both textually and traditionally. I put the matter in this way because wthout the knowledge of this pattern’s resonance in the poetic tradition at large, these next two instances pose rather sizable “gaps of ndeterminacy”. In the first case, the poet almost sounds defensive as he follows the account of the people’s lavish praise of Beowulf’s victory over Grendel with these apparently mincing words (862–63): ... [213] Whether we view the old king as simply past the age of doing battle or at aloss more because of te enormity of Grendel’s challenge than his own natural shortcomings, “but that was an excellent king” sounds strained when understood only in the text of these present troubles. But if we posit, on the basis of the evidence examined above, that this phrase actually certifies kingship through its illocutionary force [ie. because it’s always used of good kings, it’s enough to make Hrothgar a good king in the eyes of the audience], and also note tha the half-line pattern seems to perform its customary metonymic action of ending a rhetorical capsule, then the remarks about the aged king are referred to an authority much more absolute than any single narrative context. [fn. 47: ‘The situation is simlar at 1885b, where Hrothgar is said (actually certified) to be exemplary by the same metonymic phrase. As explained in chap. I, traditional structures with institutionalized meanings have a double edge aesthetically: deployed well, they can add enormously to the aesthetic richness of a work; deployed poorly, they can clash with the surface of the narrative and detract from its effectiveness. In applying this netonym twice to Hrothgar, the poet seems to have cleverly harmonized its necessary implications with the uncertain status Hrothgar has had forced upon him: his kingship, from which he has had to abdicate at night (Grendel rixode, ‘ruled’ , 144a; cf. Beowulf’s similar problem with the dragon’s reign [rics(i)an] at 2211b), is legitimated even as his young substitute wins it back. Cf. Edward Irving’s discussion of Hrothgar as a traditional type-character (1989: 47–64)’] That Hrothgar was and is “an excellent king” is beyond contesting; the metonymic force of the phrase has in fact made him so.’ (212–13). Talks earlier in the book about indeterminacy (see index) and how the reader always has to intervene in a text to make decisions about what things are about/for, but doesn’t discuss irony as such.

Fontaine, Jaques (ed.), Vie de Saint Martin, Sources chrétiennes, 133-135/Série des textes monastiques d'Occident, 22-24, 3 vols (Paris: Éditions du Cerf, 1967-69)

* Foot, Sarah, ‘The Making of the Angelcynn: English Identity before the Norman Conquest’, Transactions of the Royal Historical Society, series 6, 6 (1996), 25–49.

*Foot, S., ‘Language and Method: The Dictionary of Old English and the Historian’, Dictionary of Old English: Retrospects and Prospects, ed. by M. J. Toswell, Old English Newsletter, Subsidia, 26 (1998), 73–87. What?!

Foot, Sarah, Veiled Women, 2 vols (Aldershot: Ashgate, 2000) [theol MT 200 G7 FOO] Apparently something to do with disappearance of nuns from the historical record when they’re really still there. i 97–107 re semantic distinctions between nunne and mynecenu but no dicussion of when latter was coined. ‘Vernacular texts offer little help here either, not least because of the paucity of surviving examples of Old English dating from before the tenth century. The noun most commonly used of religious women was nunne, a loan word from the late Latin nonna, which denoted no particular style of religious living. It appears only to have been from the second half of the tenth century that noun mynecenu [sic re ‘that noun’] was used of female religious [citing microfiche concordance]. If it can be argued that Bede had drawn a distinction between nuns who remained virgins and other religious women, this was not sustained by his ninth-century Mercian translator, who sometimes preferred the single noun nunne to translate both femina sanctimonialis and uirgo from the original Latin. The sole mention of a religious woman in the [30] pre-tenth-century Chronicle relates to the woman said to have been consecrated as a nunne whom the ætheling &Athelwold abducted from Wimborne in 900. In seeking to protect the chastity of religious women, the laws of King Alfred prohibited the taking of a nunne out of a minster and declared illegitimate any child born to a former religious woman’ (29–30).

‘Consequently the picture of female monasticism that can be constructed from the sources for the period before 900 is one of a vibrant dynamic institution of economic and spiritual significance whose protagonists were evenly spread over most of the Anglo-Saxon areas of Britain. The contrast with the last Anglo-Saxon centuries is marked’ (26).

Foot, Sarah, ‘Unveiling Anglo-Saxon Nuns’, in Women and Religion in Medieval England, ed. by Diana Wood (Oxford, 2003), pp. 13–31. Seems kind of to be a summary of the book. Double houses do seem to disappear in C9—cos Vikings particularly go for nunneries? Vikings bash royal lines that used to support nunneries? Who knows? Anyway, reckons there are a lot of groups of religious women an’ all—just they’re not in nunneries as such. No charters etc. Ah…

Foote, Peter (ed.), Jóns saga Hólabyskups ens helga, Editiones Arnamagæanæ, series A, 14 (Copenhagen: Reitzel, 2003)

Peter Foote, 'Jóns saga helga', in Kristni saga; Kristni þættir; Jóns saga ins helga, ed. by Sigurgeir Steingrímsson, Ólafur Halldórsson, and Peter Foote, Íslenzk fornrit, 15 (Reykjavík: Hið Íslenzka Fornritafélag, 2003), pp. ccxiii-cccxxi.

Forbes, Helen Foxhall, Heaven and Earth in Anglo-Saxon England: Theology and Society in an Age of Faith (Aldershot: Ashgate, 2013), p. 306.

Forbes, Patrik, An Exqvistite Commentarie vpon the Revelation of Saint Iohn, Vvherein, both the Course of the Whole Booke, as also the more Abstruse and Hard Places thereof not heretofore Opened; are now at last cleerly and euidently explaned (London: Hall, 1613).

Ch. 18 (ie. re revelations 18 I assume): ‘3 Of this denounced point, is shewed also the greatnesse and equity. The greatnesse in these words, and she is become, &c. So to shew a horrible desolation: such as should not onely make her waste and solitarie, but also detestable and abominable: as are ghostly and Elphrish places full of Panike terror, and the ordinarie retrait of all these things, which both flee humane society, and the sight whereof, men most abhorre. The speech is from common sense, whereby wee esteeme these desolate and foreleited places to be full of foule spirits: which resort most in filthy roomes, as the damoniake of alegion abode amongst the graues. Whether their delight bee in such places, or, if God in his iustice, so confine them, or, if in such places they appeare most, to mooue the more terrour.’ (p. 188). No difference in 1614 ed. that I noticed and Elphrish the same.

*Forbes, Thomas R., ‘Verbal Charms in British Folk Medicine’, Proceedings of the American Philosophical Society, 115 (1971), 293-316 (GEN SCI PERS level 5).

Heather Ford, 'Fact Factories: Wikipedia and the Power to Represent' (unpublished D.Phil. thesis, University of Oxford, 2015), esp. pp. 153-98: https://www.researchgate.net/publication/282643334; DOI: 10.13140/RG.2.1.4068.9361

Ford, Heather (2016) Wikipedia and the sum of all human information. Nordisk Tidsskrift for Informationsvidenskab og Kulturformidling, 5.1 (2016), 9-13. http://eprints.whiterose.ac.uk/95883/, http://www.ntik.dk/2016/Nr1/Ford.pdf

Forshaw, Barry, Death in a Cold Climate (Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, 2012). eISBN-13: 9780230363502. Cf. The crime fiction handbook / Peter Messent. Oxford : Wiley-Blackwell, 2013. Pedestrian. As a nice contrast to my view that truth has been stranger than fiction, limiting the hand of Icelandic writers, Yrsa Sigurðardóttir says 'Corruption in Iceland often takes the form of nepotism, although recent events have brought to light double-dealing regarding money and the clandestine trading in bank and government assets. However, all these things are done in such a clumsy, greedy way that it does not spark my imagination as a writer, and to date I have not been inclined to shift from crime committed for psychological reasons as the focus of my books' (137). At the same time, though this and the stuff before it in the interview emphasise Yrsa's rejection of politics as a subject matter for fiction, which is consistent with Einar Már's critique.

Förstemann, Ernst, Altdeutsches Namenbuch, 2 vols (Bonn, 1900–16). [R460.65.1-], col 64 sqq re elf-names. ‘Zweite, völlig umgearbeitete auflage’ XXXX.

Förster, Max, ‘Die altenglische Glossenhandschrift Plantinus 32 (Antwerpen) und Additional 32246 (London)’, Anglia, 41 (1917), 94–161. Buggered if I can find this in HKI. NB numbering is old series; they have 40, for 1917; next is 1918 and no sign of the omission. Get Beth to check Flat City?

Forsyth, Katherine, ‘Literacy in Pictland’, in Literacy in Medieval Celtic Societies, ed. by Huw Pryce, Cambridge Studies in Medieval Literature, 33 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1998), pp. 39–61. ‘In one very specific instance, distinctive imagery and multi-layered symbolism prompted R. B. K. Stevenson to argue for the late eighth-century presence near Meigle, Perthshire, of an illuminated medical manuscript ‘and a library through which ideas came, as they did to Jarrow, Iona and the rest, from afar and were redistributed’ (41)--potentially interesting re history of medicine stuff. Citing Stevenson 1993.

Fortun, Michael. Title Promising genomics: Iceland and deCODE Genetics in a world of speculation / Mike Fortun. Published Berkeley : University of California Press, c2008.

`Forystukona ungra VG segir skilið við flokkinn vegna svika forystu hans', Evrópuvaktin (4 December 2011), XXXXX.

*Foucault, .M., .The .Birth .of .the .Clinic: .An .Archaeology .of .Medical .Perception, .trans .by .A. . M. . Sheridan . Smith . (New .York, . 1975)

*Fowler, P. J., ‘Farming in the Archaeological Landscape: An Archaeologist’s Review’, Anglo-Saxon England, 9 (1981), 263–80.

Fowler, Peter J., ‘Farming in Early Medieval England: Some Fields for Thought’, in The Anglo-Saxons from the Migration Period to the Eighth Century: An Ethnographic Perspective, ed. by John Hines, Studies in Archaeoethnology, 2 (Woodbridge, 1997), pp. 245–68. ‘Two scholars nearly thirteen centirueis apart seem to be speaking as one of a land where good husbandry combined with rich natuiral resources to effect a considerable agrarian achievement by 1066. The model Bede and Hallam propose is in general credible and acceptable, though—perhaps “because”—much is currently unknown’ (245). Reckon sthat new data will tend to emph. patchiness and disparity (245).

Fox, Bethany. 2007. The P-Celtic Place-Names of North-East England and South-East Scotland. The Heroic Age 10: .

Fox, Denton, ‘Some Scribal Alterations of Dates in the Bannatyne MS’, Philological Quarterly, 42 (1963), 259–63. Shows that altho’ Bannatyne MS dates itself 1568, in one place this goes over 1565 and another 1566. Earliest date is a poem mentioning 1562; Bannatyne claims to be born 1545 so unlikely to be very much earlier. ‘One can probably assume that the entire MS was written in the period 1562–68, but the safest date is simply ‘c. 1565’ ’ (263).

Fox, Denton and William A. Ringler (eds), The Bannatyne Manuscript: National Library of Scotland Advocates’ MS. 1.1.6 (London: Scolar Press, 1980). xv–xvi on date of copying, going for 1657 at the earliest and probably all in 1568 when it’s finished.

Fox, Michael, ‘Feðerhama and hæleðhelm: The Equipment of Devils’, Florilegium, 26 (2009), 131-57. https://journals.lib.unb.ca/index.php/flor/article/viewFile/18449/25556

Foys, Martin K., Virtually Anglo-Saxon: Old Media, New Media, and Early Medieval Studies in the Late Age of Print (Gainesville, FL: University Press of Florida, 2007), forthcoming for the Bulletin of International Medieval Research.

In recent decades, Anglo-Saxonists have frequently faced a perception of their subject as archaic or backward, but have enjoyed the kudos (or at least consolation) of being more innovative than most of their colleagues in their development and uptake of electronic resources (cf. p. 191). Meanwhile,  expressions of wonderment at or frustration with new technologies fill coffee-break conversation, whether in teaching departments or at research conferences. What Foys works to do is to develop a written, scholarly discourse on the relationship between new media and old sources in Anglo-Saxon studies. In this, his work is perhaps seminal and certainly overdue, and if others take up the challenge, his book will be frequently cited. But this is not to say that Foys’s approaches are altogether successful.
Foys’s thesis is that electronic—or ‘post-print’—media enable us to read Anglo-Saxon sources in ways which have been unduly discouraged by print media, and at the centre of this a series of experiments with the concept of hypertext: text in which one can, at the click of a mouse, move directly from one (section of) text to another, reading in a non-linear way. And he executes his experiment over an impressive range of sources: Anselm’s Orationes sive meditationes (ch. 2); the Bayeux Tapestry (ch. 3); the Cotton Mappamundi (ch. 4); and the Nunburnholme Cross (ch. 5).
Taking the book as a whole, Foys lays a great deal at the door of printing: ‘since modern scholarship occurs by and through print technology, it traditionally mandates and emphasizes the very qualities of the medieval that produces it, namely linearity, fixity, and unity’ (21). This technological determinism does not convince me: logic and rational argument as we know it also demand a degree of linearity (cf. p. 43), and textual stability. And although the degree varies from language to language, syntax does too (cf. p. 51). As well as underrating the linearity of text generally, Foys also seems to overrate the necessary linearity of printed works. I wonder how many readers of XXXXXthis journalXXXXX actually read scholarly works sequentially, from beginning to end? In response to the irony of publishing on new media through the traditional medium of the hard-copy book (without so much as co-publication of a PDF ebook), Foys peppers his work with what he calls ‘links’ in the form ‘[→16]’ (meaning ‘cf. p.16’; see p. 4). But scholars have made what have traditionally been called ‘cross-references’ by writing ‘cf. p. 16’ for centuries: Foys, in his enthusiasm for hyperlinks, underrates the hypertextual nature of academic (printed) writing, with its footnotes, cross-references and citations. Nor is a suspicion of mere modishness here discouraged by forms such as ‘1K’ for ‘first-millennium’ (p. 40) and a predilection for product-placement (illustrations of the Bayeux Tapestry appear as screenshots of his 2003 edition when it is the Tapestry and not the edition that is under discussion, while his Apple Macintosh ibook enjoys special mention on p. 34).
Turning to individual chapters, they have the great strength of focusing on works which have received little comment previously, and if passion for hypertextuality sometimes veers into sophistry, that is perhaps not a high price to pay. A new appreciation of the non-linear textuality of the Orationes sive meditationes by Anselm of XXXXX is welcome (pp. XXXXX), along with Foys’s attention to its illustrations and later medieval afterlife (pp. XXXXX). But one wonders if we need look to the absorbing character of computer games to understand a link between Aldhelm’s meditation on texts and his occasional, miraculous capacity to see through walls (pp. 51-58). 

Foys revels in the fragmentary state of the Bayeux Tapestry, its lack of closure reminiscent of hypertext fiction (pp. XXXXX). But Anglo-Saxonists would generally be more interested in trying to understand the meanings of the tapestry to its original audience, when it was probably complete.

It would be relatively easy to print a facsimile of the Bayeux Tapestry not in book form, but of the same size and shape as the original—which computers cannot reasonably do at present. The point is not that computers allow more representative reproduction of the tapestry, but cheaper.

Although it would be unfair to criticise the book for pursuing a different line of enquiry, Foys’s work does leave me with the strengthened impression that the real revolution of electronic media is not changed strategies of reading, but increased access to texts and images—both in that texts are now electronically searchable, and in that the Internet (and particularly the unremunerated contributions of free-access material to it by both scholars and enthusiasts) makes material available which would otherwise be unavailable or difficult to obtain. In this sense, Foys’s excitement at the production of a CD-ROM edition of the Bayeux Tapestry or the use of hyperlinks seems to miss the point.

sources often neglected—so whatever else Foys’s idea has helped him get a handle on them.

Meanwhile, although it can be inconvenient to illustrate printed books, privileging text over image (p. 192), this was surely no less the case for manuscripts (cf. 26-33 on Bede’s system of finger-counting). 

*Fradenburg, Louise, Premodern Sexualities

*Frakes, Jerold C., Brides and Doom: Gender, Propertym and Power in Medieval German Women’s Epic (1994). Might be interesting.

Francis, John K., ‘Solanum dulcamara L.’, ‘Although the fruits have an attractive appearance, the flavour is so disagreeable that it is doubtful that anyone would mistakenly eat enough to be poisoned’. Buggered if I can get a prper ref for this. URL is www.fs.fed.us/global/itf/pdf/shrubs/Solanum%20dulcamara.pdf

Franck, J., ‘Geschichte des Wortes Hex’, in Quellen und Untersuchungen zur Geschichte des Hexenwahns und der Hexenverfolgung im Mittelalter, ed. by J. Hansen (Bonn, 1901), pp. 614–70. ‘Was aus diesen Stellen als vor allen bemerkenswerth hervorgeht, ist die Thatsache, dass wir auch bei aller gebotenen Vorsicht doch zugeben müssenm dass bereits damals, also mindestens vom 6. Jh. an, die Strigen nicht mehr auf die dämonische Natur beschränkt waren, sondern wirkliche Menschen als Strigen angesehen werden konnten’ (629)--oldproblem of trying to divide demonic from mortal. Thus the charm found mention in Franck’s Geschichte des Wortes Hexe (1901, 632), appended to Hansen’s classic Quellen und Untersuchungen zur Geschichte des Hexenwahns und der Hexenverfolgung im Mittelalter, but not in Hansen’s text itself.

DID ANGLO-SAXON AUDIENCES HAVE A SKALDIC TOOTH? Roberta Frank Scandinavian Studies Vol. 59, No. 3, Anglo-Scandínavían England (SUMMER 1987), pp. 338-355

Frank, Roberta, ‘An Aspirin for Beowulf: Against Aches and Pains—ece and wærc’, ANQ, 15 (2002), 58–63.

Frank, Roberta, ‘Sex in the Dictionary of Old English’, in Unlocking the Wordhord: Anglo-Saxon Studies in Memory of Edward B. Irving, Jr., ed. by Mark C. Amodio and Katherine O’Brien O’Keefe (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2003), pp. 302–12. Useful for emphing lack of explicit sexual terminology and ASs’ euphemistic approaches. Does note and discuss OE *seorðan, once attested as ‘ne gesynnge ðu vel ne serð ðu oðres mones wif’ in Lindisfarne gospels, loaned from serða ‘fuck’ (302–3). Cites a C10 OHG phrasebook for Latin-speakers Theodore Wilhelm Braune, Althochdeutsches Lesebuch, 15th ed. rev by Ernst A. Ebbinghaus (Tübingen: Niemeyer, 1969), 9–10 with sex in! Use for AS feast phrasebook.

Frank, Roberta, ‘The Lay of the Land in Skaldic Poetry’, in Myth in Early Northwest Europe, ed. by Stephen O. Glosecki, Medieval and Renaissance Texts and Studies, 320/Arizona Studies in the Middle Ages and the Renaissance, 21 (Tempe, AZ: Arizona Center for Medieval and Renaissance Studies, 2007), pp. 175–96. Uses analogues to argue against mythical readings, in a demolition of the evidence of Old Norse poetry for the existence of pre-Christian ritualmarriages between new kings and their land.

Frankis, P. J., ‘The Thematic Significance of Enta Geweorc and Related Imagery in The Wanderer’, Anglo-Saxon England, 2 (1973), 253–69. As well as noting topos elements of stone-building, ice, storm (256-7), says ‘The possibility of a Roman connotation in this imagery of ancient stone buildings, evidently thought of as the work of a technologically superior past, is important. In The Ruin it is indisputable and in Andreas it is arguable, and the pervasive presence of Latin loan-words is strikingly relevant’ (257). Bwf instances rather distinct tho’ (258)—2 times out of 3 work of smiths instead. Early stage of motif? NBs ent rare, esp. that La3amon fails to use it just where you’d expect him to (ll. 24885–6), so presumably lost early (259–60). This may be useful, as it would help to explain the lake that the aluen dug. Makes the Völuspá comparison re hall 269.

Frankis, John, ‘Sidelights on Post-Conquest Canterbury: Towards a Context for an Old Norse Runic Charm (DR 419)’, Nottingham Mediaeval Studies, 44 (2000), 1-27. Cotton Caligula A.xv in a portion dated to c1073-76 (1), see also 7-8.

f.123v. kuril sarþuara far þu nu funtin istu þur uigi þik

f.124r. þorsa trutin [k]uril sarþuara uiþr aþrauari (2).

Text and trans discussed 2-5. Takes þorsa trutin in app. to þik not þur—fair enough (3). Doesn’t change to Gyril 1st word as no dot on the k-rune and no decent reason to change (3). ‘The Canterbury Runic Charm thus seems to ascribe to giants (as creatures inimical to man: the gloss “demons” in DR and Moltke calls for further explanation) the same role in causing illness as some Old English charms ascribe to elves; in particular the term sár-þvara, literally ‘(of the) wound-bolt, spear’, implies a concept similar to that of “elf-shot” in some Anglo-Saxon charms … and this reinforces Høst’s suggestion that kyril may be connected with Icekandic kyrr, a poetic name for a sword’ (3)—yeah, cf. g²ndul < gandr?

‘The Sigtuna amulet reads þur sarriþu þursa trutin fliu þu nu funtin is[tu] (4); Moltke not happy with thor as þursa dróttin and emends (Frankis buys it 5), but demonisation, no?

Neatly written, no marginal. Might be same pen and ink as the rest of the stuff; can’t tell the hand of course (5). ‘…it needs to be emphasised that the Runic Charm is just one of several charms, all evidently copied by the same scribe, in this part of the Caligula MS … and they must be recognised as reflecting the attitudes and way of life of their time, however much they may seem today to conflict with the intellectual standing of other items in the manuscript. That the charms were copied at all shows that someone valued them, and this presumably also applies to the Runic Charm’ (9; charms are in Storms nos. 68, A9, A10 (these on f. 129), 34, 69 (these on f.140)). Reckons OE in the charms pretty good—C10 source (11-12). Moltke 360 reckons ON not later than c. 1000. NB the charms are wið gedrif, wið poccas and wið geswell on f. 129—fever/bumps combination again. Texts themselves mainly pseudo-words in pseudo-Latin tho’. Worries at length about the prospect of ON speakers in Canterbury. Pages assoc wih Easter tables which have various assocs with Cyril—did the 1st word of the charm determine its placement in MS? (esp. 25-27).

Frankis, John. 2002. ‘Towards a Regional Context for Lawman’s Brut: Literary Activity in the Dioceses of Worcester and Hereford in the Twelfth Century’. In La3amon: Contexts, Language, and Interpretation, ed. Rosamund Allen, Lucy Perry and Jane Roberts, 53–78. King’s College London Medieval Studies 19. London: King’s College London Centre for Late Antique and Medieval Studies. App. argues that Otho knows fairy mistress motif and this may affect the aluis maide.

Franklin, Simon, Writing, Society and Culture in Early Rus, c. 950–1300 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2002). ‘In the museum at Silista, in the extreme north-eastern corner of Bulgaria, is a small sliver of lead, inscribed on both sides in Cyrillic letters dating from the tenth century. The message is direct: “Flee, fever (triasavitsa), from this man, the Lord will drive you out. Flee, fever, from this man … the Lord will drive you out. Flee, fever, from this man, the Lord will drive you out’. [Popkonstantinov and Kronsteiner, Altbulgarische Inschriften, i 1994, 218–28.] Every element here is a classic example of its type: the use of lead … the threefold repetition; the direct address to the personified “fever” found also in later Slav folk magic; the simple Christianising device whereby the triasavitsa becomes a kind of petty demon to be expelled by the Lord, rather than an autonomous power’ (269).

Frantzen, Allen J., Desire for Origins: New Language, Old English, and Teaching the Tradition (New Brunswick: Rutgers University Press, 1990). 'Orientalism is a recognized cultural phenomenon, while Anglo-Saxonism, its ideological partner, is not. Because Orientalism belongs to the category of "not Old English", its close association with the formation of Anglo-Saxon studies has been ignored' (29). 'Orientalism suppressed and exploited the East, whereas Anglo-Saxonism glorified the West as English civilization constituted it. Unlike Anglo-Saxonism, Orientalism has a material motive---the East and its riches---always in view; the material concerns of Anglo-Saxonism existed but were not always tangible: They were forms of power that accrued to those who controlled the past and claimed originary status from it' (30).

*Frantzen, Allen J., ‘Between the Lines: Queer Theory, the History of Homosexuality and Anglo-Saxon Penitentials’, Journal of Medieval and Early Modern Studies, 26 (1996), XXXX

Frantzen, Allen J., ‘Where the Boys are: Children and Sex in the Anglo-Saxon Penitentials’, in Becoming Male in the Middle Ages, ed. by Jeffrey Jerome Cohen and Bonnie Wheeler, The New Middle Ages, 4/Garland Reference Library of the Humanities, 2066 (London 1997), pp. 43–66. a. Very interesting but not really relevant to me. ‘Heterosexual intercourse between young people (i.e., under 20 years of age) is mentioned twice … If both the ‘adulescens’ and the ‘puella’ are under 20 years of age, they are to fast for the three 40-day periods for one year. But their behaviour could apparently have drastic results. A canon in the Scriftboc modifies their penance if they are sold into servitude as a result of this act, a calamitous consequence, reducing penance to 40 days and to only 20 days if they began but did not complete the act’ (51), with note emphing trickiness of the cannon. Lots about boys having sex, homosexuality, est. 54 has the bædling text; bædling seems to be distinguished from cniht in the text (as a bædling might have sex with a bædling or a cniht, and intercourse between boys already covered in the text, F. notes). But F. comments not on the word itself nor translates. ‘Significantly, no penance is specified for the man involved in this act [when child has sex with adult man]. Here, as with the boy forced into sex by an older boy (example 5), it is the younger one who does the penance’ (55)—sees this as punishing the tempter not the tempted, albeit quite lightly; one also wonders if there’s the issue that active sex isn’t a problem. Worries further at it 56–58

*Frantzen, Allen J. and John D. Niles, Anglo-Saxonism and the Construction of Social Identity (Gainesville, 1997 [717.5.c.95.136]). Had a look at it but nothing important in present context.

Frantzen, Allen J., Before the Closet: Same-Sex Love from ‘Beowulf’ to ‘Angels in America’ (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1998). Read this properly sometime and order for Glasgow. 72–89 re women dressed as men in SS lives. ‘Women dressing as men are comparatively common in medieval texts; their threat to the gender hierarchy, sometimes explicitly sexual, is neutralized when the woman is revealed for what she is and returned to a position appropriate to her. Women’s or men’s cross-dressing is seldom mentioned in Continental penitentials, and no English penitentials punish transvestism. Men dressing as women are rare, and it is significant that men who dressed as women were not described as misbehaving sexually. Rather their transvestism is associated with witchcraft and pagan observances and is assigned penances of one to three years (it was the same for a man who dressed as a woman as for a woman who dressed as a man’ (88), citing in n. 40 (whose text is on p. 320) ‘Bullough, Sexual Variance in Society and History, 362[ 9230.c.1547 1976 repr. 1980]. Penitentials mentioning male transvestism include the Penitential of Silos, St. Hubert’s Penitential, and the Merseberg B Penitential. The St. Hubert’s and Merseberg B penitentials are found in Paenitentialia minora Franciae et Italiae saeculi VIII–IX, ed. Raymond Kottje with Ludger Körntgen and Ulrike Spengler-Reffgn (Turnhout, Belgium: Brepols, 1994); see canon 42, p. 60, and canon 29, p. 176, respectively’. 111–37 re historiog on early medieval same-sex stuff. 163–67 re bædling and implicitly bæddel (which he takes incautiously to mean ‘hermaphrodite’). 175–83 an appendix of mentions of homosexual acts in the A-S penitentials with transs.

*Franz, Marie Louise von, L’Interprétation des contes des fées (Paris: La Fontaine de Pierre, 1978)

Franzen, Christine, The Tremulous Hand of Worcester: A Study of Old English in the Thirteenth Century (Oxford, 1991). 65–69 re Bod. hatton 76. 2 parts—A ff. 1–67v, fragments Greg Dialogues OE, fragsof Monita of St Basil; 68–73v Herbarium + Medicina de quadrupedibus (65). re B 66–69. Looks like De Vriend ed. the place to go re OE bits, but she doesn’t seem happy re his hadling of trem. hand. Also says ‘Part B only contains two actual glosses, both of which are by the M state and are very near the beginning of the harbal: f. 74v sinewealt: rotundum and f. 75v seaw: ius. Crawford, 19–21 (MS B), printed many glosses from this text, but almost all of them are simply Middle English respellings of Old English names of the herbs. They are usually written in the blank spaces left for the drawings where were never executed. De Vried, xxi, describes these as “titles in the text, in a later hand, probably s. xii”, but they are clearly by the tremulous hand’ (66). Don’t see why ‘Elueþunge: tunsingwurt [CHM white hellebore]’ shouldn’t count as a read gloss, but never mind. chapter on ‘His Glosses: Some Successes and Failures’, 154–82. Worth citing as general guide to what goes down—tho’ not really re plants etc. cos she doesn’t do those MSS really. XXXXdoesn’t she talk about how he annotes a charm right after annotating denunciations of the same?XXXX

Franzen, Christine, ‘The Tremulous Hand of Worcester and the Nero Scribe of the Ancrene Wisse’, Medium Ævum, 72 (2003), 13–31.

[Franzen, Christine], 'Introduction', in Ashgate Critical Essays on Early English Lexicographers Volume 1: Old English, ed. by Christine Franzen (Farnham: Ashgate, 2012), xv-lxxiii.

Fraser, James E., ‘Northumbrian Whithorn and the Making of St Ninian’, The Innes Review, 53 (2002), 40–59. ‘Levison noted that most of the personal names recorded in Miracula and Vita Niniani are English and that one miracle story provided an [aetiological] explanation for an English place-name (farres last, ‘bull’s [42] track’), leading him to the sensible conclusion that their common source had been composed ‘in the time of Northumbrian predominance in Galloway’ ’ (41–42). Other points about Roman perspective of text suggest composition under NHs and specifically under Pecthelm (42). Sees Aelred’s source as a coherent and whole A-S text without necessarily an earlier predecessor (42–44). Sees Aelred’s Martin episode as Aelread’s own (44–45). Basically argues that ‘in general terms’ anything not in the miracula was also not in the source text, and that Aelred adds stuff in in all cases (44–47, quoting 47). Infers infl from Vita Wilfredi in description of visit to Rome (where Ninian gets regular training, makes regular visits to shrines of apostles and meets the Pope) (49–50). But analogues to the account of N’s encounter with Tudvael (miracula)/Tudwallus (vita ninani), and of woman’s accusation of fatherhood of her child to a disciple of Ninian, in Finnian lives suggests reflexes of some older traditions—but not necessarily anything so coherent as a vita. ‘We may now glimpse our author at work, pulling together a handful of Gallovidian traditions about Uinniae while misreading the saint’s name as Nyniau, and composing a text in which he madesome attempt to draw parallels between his subject and St Wilfrith, following the outline of the latter’s early career contained in Stephan’s Vita Sancti Wilfrethi’ (52)--if so, text is post c. 720 but before Bede’s use of an abstract of it by 731 (52–53, with some other circumstantial support of sorts 53–54 based on what sound like rather tendentious developments of comparisons with Wilfrid). Suggests that surely no-one in Whithorn’s so out of touch as to not known that Ninian is Uinniau, so reckons that the text was composed (with some bits and pieces of written material from Whithorn) in NH, and specifically Hexham, whose bishop Acca has jurisdiction over Galloway, maybe who got Whithorn underway, was a devoted follower of Wilfrid, who commissions VW, and contributed information to Bede (54–55). Interesting. But hmm, sounds tendentious, though transmission of the text through there might be a way round it? Depending how often his name comes up..... Implies a desire to suggest that the see had belonged to Roman Church from its origins and so legitimise NH takeover. This propaganda would account for Bede describing Pecthelm’s see ‘as being an existing one which the Bernicians had taken over rather than as a newly created diocese’ (55).

Fraser, William, Memoirs of the Maxwells of Pollok, 2 vols (Edinburgh, 1863) [Ba.43.3] ‘Excerpts from the Diaries of Sir George Maxwell of Pollok, 1649–1676’ (349), incl. ‘Forme of the Court holden on the Witcht at Paislay, 21st March 1650’—so app. copied by George into his diary? Doesn’t seem to be one of the officials present. ‘The pairtie pannelled, Joanet Scott in Greenock called in’ (351). Includes the elliptica: ‘Article.—When kine wer elfe shote. . . . // Answer.— Confessed that shee had so graiped certaine kine, and that shee hearde that this would cuire the cow. For the elfes, shee heard that they wer the good neighboris’ (352)—well, useful for the last sentence, anyway. Full trial 350–53, so as you see the Elf bit pretty minor component. Trial of Joanet Galbraith the same day included next 354–58; then on 358 a short note: ‘Anent Jeane Scott. Common Bruite. Proven salve of foxtree leafes applied for all diseases, to beast and body, which had operation according as the pairtie beleeved. It was to be sought in Godis name, and it was given in the name of, etc., applied somtymes externallie, sometymes in potionis. The signe of its vertew was, if the pairtie sleeped it was health, if otherwise no hope of life. // Elfe shooteing cured by three fingeris of different persons putt in the holl. // Malefice of leprosie proven and death following. Shitt barnes cured by her salve. Malefice of suelling layd upon . Malefice of death layd upon annother. The mark proven’ (358). Does this brevity reflect the trial, the trial record or Maxwell’s abbreviation? Who knows...

*Frazer, J, Ériu, 8 (1916), 1ff. Cited by GTP re vanir-æsir war and Irish.

Frazer, Roger, `The Fijian Village and the Independent Farmer', The Pacific in Transition: Geographical Perspectives on Adaptation and Change, ed. by Harold Brookfield (London: Arnold, 1973), pp. 75--96.

Frazer, William O., ‘Introduction: Identities in Early Medieval Britain’, in Social Identity in Early Medieval Britain, ed. by William O. Frazer and Andrew Tyrrell (London, 2000), pp. 1–22. ‘It might clarify these abstractions about social identity and about its place within social life, if we think of the latter as “storied”. Several implications follow from such a model. First, that such stories of social life, to some extent, steer action. People form multiple, changing, biographical identities by placing themselves or being place within a series of emplotted stories’ (4). 4–5 citable as effort to show how narrative stuff important to EME. Cites Calhoun 1994 ed., esp. Gibson 1994.

Freedman, Jill, and Gene Combs, Narrative Therapy: The Social Construction of Preferred Realities (London, 1996) [326:3.c.95.3011]. ‘…another important current in the same stream was that of social constructionism … its main premise is that the beliefs, values, institutions, customs, labels, laws, divisions of labor, and the like that make up our social realities are constructed by the members of a culture as they interact with one another from generation to generation and day to day. That is, societies construct the “lenses” through which their members interpret the world. The realities that each of us take for granted are the realities that our societies have surrounded us with since birth. These realities provide the beliefs, practices, words, and experiences from which we make up our lives, or, as we would say in postmodernist jargon, “constitute our selves.” ’ (16).

4 core points. ‘1. Realities are socially constructed. 2. Realities are constituted through language. 3. Realities are organized and maintained through narrative. 4. There are no essential truths’ (22). Difference between constructivism and social constructivism—‘social constructionists place far more emphasis on social interpretation and the intersubjective influence of language, family, and culture, and much less on the operations of the nervous system’ (26).

Freeman, Elizabeth, Time Binds: Queer Temporalities, Queer Histories (Durham: Duke University Press, 2010). ‘Chronobiopolitics harness not only sequence but also cycle, the dialectical companion to sequence, for the idea of time as cyclical stabilizes its forward movement, promising renewal rather than rupture’ p. 5.

Fridell, Staffan, `The Development of Place-Names from Ancient Nordic to Old Nordic', in The Nordic Languages: An International Handbook of the History of the North Germanic Languages, ed. by Oskar Bandle and others, Handbücher zur Sprach- and Kommunikationswissenschaft, 22, 2 vols (Berlin: de Gruyter, 2002), i pp. 753--61.

Fridell, Staffan, `The Development of Old Nordic Place-Names', in The Nordic Languages: An International Handbook of the History of the North Germanic Languages, ed. by Oskar Bandle and others, Handbücher zur Sprach- and Kommunikationswissenschaft, 22, 2 vols (Berlin: de Gruyter, 2002), i pp. 972-80.

Fridell, Staffan, `The Development of Place-Names in the Late Middle Ages', in The Nordic Languages: An International Handbook of the History of the North Germanic Languages, ed. by Oskar Bandle and others, Handbücher zur Sprach- and Kommunikationswissenschaft, 22, 2 vols (Berlin: de Gruyter, 2002), i pp. 1187-88.

Friedman, David, 'Private Creation and Enforcement of Law: A Historical Case', The Journal of Legal Studies, 8 (1979), 399-415 http://www.journals.uchicago.edu/doi/abs/10.1086/467615 http://digitalcommons.law.scu.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=1559&context=facpubs

*Friedman, J. B., ‘The Marvels-of-the-EastXXXX’ in XXXXAnglo-Saxon Culture hist DG440 Sou

Friedman, John Block, The Monstrous Races in Medieval Art and Thought, 1st Syracuse University Press EditionXXXX (Syracuse: Syracuse University Press, 2000). 108-30 re history and meanings of monstrum, portntum, prodigium, ostentum. Et elsewhere no doubt.

Fritsch, R. M. and N. Friesen, 'Evolution, Domestication and Taxonomy', Allium Crop Science: Recent Advances, ed. by H.D. Rabinowitch and L. Currah (Wallingford: CABI Publishing, 2002), pp. 5-30. 'It is thought that the Romans, who cultivated onions in special gardens (cepinae), took onions north of the Alps, as all the names for onion in West and Central European languages are derived from Latin' (22).

Fritzner, Johan, Ordbog over det gamle norske sprog, 4 vols (Kristiania: Den norske forlagsforening; Oslo: Universitetsforlaget, 1886–1972) XXXXcheck style. First place ends with vol. 3 in 1896.

Frog, 'Do You See What I See? The Mythic Landscape in the Immediate World', Folklore, 43 (2009), 7-26, http://www.folklore.ee/folklore/vol43/frog.pdf; https://www.academia.edu/3687106/Do_You_See_What_I_See_The_Mythic_Landscape_in_the_Immediate_World Relevant context for Wið færstice type stuff, with a nice statement near the beginning of the interconnected agencytastic character of the world in the folklore studied.

Frog, 'Distinguishing Continuities: Textual Entities, Extra-Textual Entities and Conceptual Schemas', RMN Newsletter, 2 (2011), 7-15

Frog, 'Ethnocultural Substratum: Its Potential as a Tool for Lateral Approaches to Tradition History', RMN Newsletter, 3 (2011), 23-37

Frog, 'Snorri Sturluson qua Fulcrum: Perspectives on the Cultural Activity of Myth, Mythological Poetry and Narrative in Medieval Iceland', Mirator, 12 (2011), 1-29

Frog, 'Circum-Baltic Mythology? The Strange Case of the Theft of the Thunder-Instrument (ATU 1148b)', Archaeologia Baltica, 15 (2011), 78-98

Frog, 'Confluence, Continuity and Change in the Evolution of Myth: Cultural Activity and the Finno-Karelian Sampo-Cycle', in Mythic Discourses: Studies in Uralic Oral Tradition, ed. by Frog, Anna-Leena Siikala and Eila Stepanova, Studia fennica folkloristica, 20 (Helsinki: Finnish Literature Society, 2012), pp. 205--53. 'Early investigations of the history of the Sampo-Cycle were made within the framework of the Historical-Geographic Method or its derivatives. Originally based on a mechanized manuscript stemma model, these studies [208] accumulated texts with a mono-directional goal of sifting "mistakes" and "interpolations" form [sic] variants and redactions in order to reconstruct an original form ...[refs]... A central problem with these approaches is in the underlying conception of oral traditions and how they function. Traditions were treated as the voice of das Volk, dismissing the role of the individual, and textual products were considered identical to the tradition. On the one hand, the identification of text as tradition and tradition as the voice of an ethnos eliminated the need to consider variation in performance (which merely reflected imperfections in the text). On the other hand, the identification of traditions as ideal heritage-objects, aloof from social processes, eliminated the need to consider the social negotiation of traditions through discourse. Recovering vanishing heritage-objects from the corruption of peasant communities was a noble cuase of Romanticism, guided by the star of nationalism, and the Historical-Geographic Method---which many now seem as primitive and superstitious as the use of leeches in medicine---was both rational and scientific in its day' (207-208).

Frog, 'Evolution, Revolution and Ethnocultural Substrates: From Finno-Ugric Sky-God to the God-Smith Ilmarinen', in Selected Proceedings from the Fifth International Symposium on Finno-Ugric Languages in Groningen XXXXX, ed. by Adriaan van der Hoeven and Cornelius Hasselblatt, Studia fenno-ugrica Groningana, 7 (Maastricht: Shaker, XXXXX), XXXXX

Frog, 'Is Phil Phol, and Who the Devil is he Anyway? Baldr, the Second Merseburg Charm, and Other Perplexing Issues', in Topics in Continental West Germanic, ed. by Tonya Kim Dewey and Doug Simms, XXXXX (Berlin: de Gruyter, 2013XXXXX), XXXXX

Frog, 'Folklore', in Encyclopedia of Contemporary Nordic Culture, ed. by Helena Forsås-Scott, Mary Hilson, and Titus Hjelm (XXXXX)

Frog, 'Shamans, Christians, and Things in Between: From Finnic-Germanic Contacts to the Conversion of Karelia', in Conversions: Looking for Ideological Change in the Early Middle Ages, ed. by Leszek Słupecki and Rudolf Simek, Studia Mediaevalia Septentrionalia, 23 (Vienna: Fassbaender, 2013), pp. 53–97. 'FollowingtheReformation,kalevalaicpoetrytraditionswereaggressivelydisplacedinFinland,andthemythologyand tietaja-institution brokedown.Orthodoxregions(RussianKareliaandIngria)weremore·tolerant,andfrom:'·theperspectlve'oi~-Russra~ -Kareiii'- wasawildernesslikeSiberia,towhichpeoplefledfromsecularandreli-giousprosecution.Themoreremotetheregion(i.e.theclosertotheWhiteSea),themorevitalthe tietaja.,.institution andmythologyremained.Communitiesweresmall,dispersed,and tietdjds wereacommonplacesocialnecessityofhealthandwelfarethrough the19th century.' (57). 'The tietdjd andChristianpriestmaintainedandassertedverydifferentmythologieswithinacoherentcommunity,withverydifferentviewsandattitudestothesamegods.' (58), and alongside other rtual specialists like female lamenters. ' Onthebasisofabroadrangeofcomparativeevidence,aformofCentralandNorthernEurasianor"classic"shamanism"canbepresumedpartoftheProto-Uralic(PU)heritage.i"andwithinthelexicon,Proto-Finno-Ugric(PFU) *nojta appearstohavedesignatedatypeofshamanwhoenteredunconscioustrance-statesandaccomplishedjourneyswithafree- soul' (59). Clear that the tietäjä tradition is informed by this, but also different from it. 'Classicshamanismdoesnotexcludeknowledgeanduseofincantations,buttheyarenotnecessarytoit,whereastheyarethedefiningtoolofthe tietaja?' (61) 'Incantations were intimately connected to mythological narrative material, and particularly to narratives of origins or aetiologies. A hundred lines or more of an incantation could easily be devoted to the mythic origin of the agent which causes the harm (iron, fire, serpent, etc.). In this incantation tradition, the role of aetiological and cosmogonic myths appears exceptional in Eurasia.' (fn 37: ' Parallels to this incantation type are historically or geographically remote (see Siikala, Mythic Images, and works there cited).') (62) 'Mostsignificantly,theconceptionoftheseparablesoulisabsentfromthemagicalandritualtraditionsofthe tietdjd:' (62) 'Whereas the classic shamanic rite is characterized by an epic narrative paradigm of the hero's dangerous journey to the otherworld and triumphal return (for which martial conflict was not essential), the tietiijii's characteristic para- digm is the (ostensibly) martial confrontation of a mythic adversary that has penetrated the community and must be expelled to the otherworld. This is nearer the narrative paradigm which Alaric Hall observes in Old Norse charms in which the illness agent is verbally identified as a þurs [67] and Þórr is summoned to a confrontation at the location of the patient. 64 This is also consistent with the semiotics of battle in the tietdja tradition, where the weapons and armour are supplied by the thunder-god' (66-67) 'Siikala's argument has found continued support that the tietaia-insti- tution took shape sometime in the first millennium of the present era, in contexts predominated by Germanic influence, and (eventually) super- seded the vernacular institution of shamanism." This is not to say that the incantations and mythology are Germanic per se: the assimilation of these models into a linguistic and ideological cultural environment in which a form of classic shamanism was dominant resulted in a synthesis pro- ducing a potentially unique institution. Siikala hypothesizes that the emergence of this institution is connected to the transition to an increasing role of agrarian practices structuring social life with changes in relationships to the ecological environment, the socially constructed inhabited landscape, and the mythically constructed topography of the unseen world." Whatever the underlying social and historical factors may be, the PFU term "nojta ["shaman"] was maintained in Finno-Karelian traditions to designate a magically powerful and dangerous "other" or Sami shaman rather than a ritual specialist of the in-group community, and during the later medieval period this term came to be used in the European sense of "witch".' (67) 'Vainamoinen was the tietdjd idn ikuinen ["tietiijii, of age eternal"], the mythic founder of the institution, and provided an identity model for its practitioners. Vainamoinen's ultimate claim to authority is first-hand knowledge of the creation of the world.' (75) 'Siikala argues that the tietaja-institution likely took shape in the Merovingian period at the latest, when Germanic contacts were high. 122 Roots of the tradition in this region are consistent with the language of the tietajd'« kalevalaic poetry being marked by the lexicon of western regions and Germanicisms.' (87)

Frog, '[https://www.academia.edu/35810541 Myth', Humanities, 7.4 (2018), 1-39. doi:10.3390/h7010014f

Frosti Sigurjónsson, Monetary Reform: A Better Monetary System for Iceland (Reykjavik: [Forsætisráðuneyti], 2015). https://www.forsaetisraduneyti.is/media/Skyrslur/monetary-reform.pdf

***Fry, Donald K., ‘Wulf and Eadwacer: A Wen Charm’, Critical Review, 5 (1971), 247–63.

Donald K. Fry, ‘The Cliff of Death in Old English Poetry’, in Comparative Research on Oral Traditions: A Memorial for Milman Parry, ed. by John Miles Foley (Columbus, 1987), pp. 211-33.

Fulk, R. D., A History of Old English Meter (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1992).

Fulk, R. D., ‘On Argumentation in Old English Philology, with Particular Reference to the Editing and Dating of Beowulf’, Anglo-Saxon England, 32 (2004), 1–26.

Robert D. Fulk, “The Name of Offa’s Queen: Beowulf 1931–3”, Anglia, 122 (2004), 614-39. doi:10.1515/angl.2004.614 of which 631–39 are a trans of the c. 1200 St Albans life of Offa II.

Furnivall, Frederick J. (ed.), Political, Religious, and Love Poems: From the Archbishop of Canterbury’s Lambeth MS. No. 306, and Other Sources, Early English Text Society, 15 (1866). Says under date/publ. ‘re-edited 1903’; how to ref?XXXX 123-26 ‘The adulterous Falmouth Squire prol.; 126-32 text. Lambeth MS 306, leaf 110, ‘in a 16th century hand’; prol from MS Ashmole 61 (fol. 136). Not much more here than already in Patch; specifies pre-Black Death.

Furnivall, F. J. (ed.), Hali Meidenhad: An Alliterative Homily of the Thirteenth Century, Early English Text Society, original series, 18 (London, 1922)

G

Gade, Kari Ellen, ‘The Dating and Attributions of Verses in the Skald Sagas’, in Skaldsagas: Text, Vocation, and Desire in the Icelandic Sagas of Poets, ed. by Russell Poole, Ergänzungsbände zum Reallexikon der Germanischen Altertumskunde, 27 (Berlin: de Gruyter, 2001), pp. 50–74.

*Gager,

Curse tablets and binding spells from the ancient world / edited by John G. Gager. Publ. info. New York ; Oxford : Oxford University Press, 1992 Oxford, Oxford University Press, 1992. [Anthrop K410 GAG ]

Gallais, Pierre, La fée à la fontaine et à l’arbre: une archetype du conte merveilleux et du récit courtois, CERMEIL, 1 (Amsterdam: Rodopi, 1992). Well, no denying that on the basis of the contents list it’s all continental waffling. ‘Les deux premières mentions des fées dans la littérature médiévale française doicent se situer autour de 1150: dans le Pèlerinage de Charlemagne … et dans l’Estoire des Engleis de Geffrei Gaimar (éd. A. Bell, Oxford, 1960, v. 3657: Elftroed est si belle qu’Edelwold croit qu’elle est une “fee”).’ (16, n. 1).

2. re the fairy bride motif. 36-7 summary of Mélusine which has the Saturday prohibition. late C14 I fink. 38-42 international analogues. No ev of analysis till 43 (which might be interesting). More medieval analogues (incl. Gervase of Tilbury), 43-8, more international ones 48-9/50. Apparently all re ‘diabolisation’ ‘de la fée’. Hmm, not very obviously.

225 ff. re ‘Le voyage dan l’autre monde’. Can’t face it today.

Gallée, Johan Hendrik, Altsächsische Grammatik, Sammlung kurzer Grammatiken germanischer Dialekte, 6, 2nd edn (Halle: Niemeyer; Leiden: Brill, 1910)

Gameson, Fiona and Richard Gameson, ‘Wulf and Eadwacer, The Wife’s Lament, and the Discovery of the Individual in Old English Verse’, in Studies in English Language and Literature: Papers in Honour of E. G. Stanley, ed. by M. J. Toswell and E. M. Tyler (London: Routledge, 1996), pp. 457–74.

Gamkrelidze, Thomas V. and Vjaceslav[XXXXupside down hat on c] V. Ivanov, Indo-European and the Indo-Europeans: A Reconstruction and Historical Analysis of a Proto-Language and a Proto-Culture, trans. by Johanna Nichols, ed. by Werner Winter, 2 vols Trends in Linguistics, Studies and Monographs, 80 (Berlin, 1995). Check style!! I said: ‘In theory, this could in turn partly reflect a deep-seated opposition between the roots *albho- (‘white, light-coloured’) and *mel- (‘black, dark’) has been hypothesised as one of a number of reconstructable binary oppositions in the Indo-European world-view (Gamkrelidze and Ivanov 1995, i 685).’

Gammeltoft, Peder, 2004, ‘Scandinavian-Gaelic contacts. Can place-names and place-name elements be used as a source for contact-linguistic research?’, North-Western European Language Evolution, 44, 51–90.

Ganander, Christfrid, Mythologia fennica, eller förklaring öfver de nomina propria deastrorum, idolorum, locorum, virorum, &c. eller afgudar och afgudinnor, forntidens märkelige personar, offer och offer-ställen, gamla sedvänjor, jätter, trol, skogs- sjö och bergs-rån m. m. Som förekomma i de äldre finska troll-runor, synnyt, sanat, sadut, arwotuxet &c. samt än brukas och nämnas i dagligt tal; til deras tjenst, som vela is grund förstå det finska språket, och hafva smak för finska historien och poëin, af gamla runor samlad och uttydd (Åbo: Frenckell, 1789), p. 88

Ganim, John M., Medievalism and Orientalism: Three Essays on Literature, Architecture and Cultural Identity (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2005). 'The purpose of the following chapters is to point out that the idea of the Middle Ages as it developed from its earliest formulations in the historical self-consciousness of Western Europe is part of what we used to call an identity crisis, a deeply uncertain sense of what the West is and should be. The idea of the Middle Ages as a pure Europe (or England or France or Germany) both rests on and reacts to an uncomfortable sense of instability about origins, about what the West is and where it came from' (3). 'Alongside the enormous sophistication of present scholarship on the Middle Ages or its continuing power as a source of imagery for popular culture, from films to computer games, the Medieval has lost its status as a critical discourse in relation to the present. It is no longer an Utopian ideal to be recovered, while its negative rhetorical implications, from "medieval justice" to the "medieval" social conditions and practices in, most typically and revealingly, Islamic states, remain almost unquestioned. This situation was by no means always the case. In the nineteenth century, medievalism was constructed as a fierce reproach as well as a utopian escape from the present and that reproach was framed in explicitly political terms. The most famous exemplars of nineteenth century [sic] medievalism in its position as social critique are such authors as Sir Walter Scott, Thomas Carlyle, John Ruskin, and William Morris. That is, literary medievalism in the nineteenth century seems to chart a political trajectory from conservative paternalism to socialist utopianism, from right to left, in however halting a manner. Beneath this apparent pattern, I shall argue, medievalism is a more continually contested terrain, often problematizing the political implications its proponents wish to draw' (4). 'After the inclusion of India into the Empire after the mid-nineteenth century, however, and the newly powerful influence of race as a defining factor in history and the dual linkage of civilization and progress as concepts, the egalitarianism and prelapsarianism of Romantic Orientalism was replaced by a historiography of conquest. How could the evidence of the great Indian past be reconciled with the colonial challenge of governing an inferior people and a decadent civilization?' (8).

Gantz, Timothy, Early Greek Myth: A Guide to Literary and Artistic Sources (London, 1993).

*Garber, Marjorie, Vested Interests: Cross-Dressing and Cultural Anxiety (New York, 1992).

Garcia, Michael, 'Medieval Medicine, Magic, and Water: The Dilemma of Deliberate Deposition of Pilgrim Signs', Peregrinations: Journal of Peregrinations: Journal of Medieval Art and Architecture Medieval Art and Architecture, 1.3 (2005), 1-13, https://digital.kenyon.edu/perejournal/vol1/iss3/5/

*Gatch, milton, Preaching in ASE might have elf-shot sez Verity.

Gatch, Milton McC., Loyalties and Traditions: Man and his World in Old English Literature (New York: Pegasus, 1971)

*T. Gates and C. O'Brien "Cropmarks at Milfield and New Bewick and the Recognition of Grubenhaüser in Northumberland." Archaeologia Aeliana 5th series, Vol XVI, 1988, 1-9

*Gay, David, ‘Anglo-Saxon Metrical Charm 3 Against a Dwarf’, Folklore, 99 (1988), 74–77.

*Geake, Helen, The Use of Grave Goods in Conversion-Period England, c. 600–c. 850, British Archaeological Reports, British Series, 261 (Oxford, 1997).

* Geary, Patrick, The Myth of Nations: The Medieval Origins of Europe (Princeton, 2002)

*Geeraerts, Dirk, Diachronic Prototype Semantics: A Contribution to Historical Lexicology (Oxford, 1997)

Geete, Robert (ed.), Den vises sten: En hittils okänd rimdikt från 1300-talet, efter en upsalahandskrift från år 1379, Småstycken på forn svenska, andra serien (Stockholm: Svenska fornskriftsällskapet, 1900)

*Gehrts, Heino, ‘Die Gullveig—Myth der Vọluspá?’, Zeitschrift für deutsche Philologie, 88 (1969), 312–78.

Geiriadur Prifysgol Cymru / A Dictionary of the Welsh Language (Cardiff: Gwasg Prifysgol Cymru, 1950–2003)

*Geldner, J., Untersuchungen zu. ae. Krankheitsnamen (1908).

Gelling, Margaret, The Place-Names of Oxfordshire, English Place-Name Society, 23, 2 vols (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1953–54)

Gelling, Margaret, ‘Place-Names and Anglo-Saxon Paganism’, University of Birmingham Historical Journal, 8 (1962), 7–25.

Gelling, Margaret, The Place-Names of Berkshire, English Place-Name Society, 49–51, 3 vols (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1973–76)

Gelling, Margaret, ‘Further Thoughts on Pagan Place-Names’, in Otium et Negotium: Studies in Onomatology and Library Science Presented to Olof von Feilitzen, ed. by Folke Sandgren (Stockholm, 1973), pp. 109–28, repr. in Place-Name Evidence for the Anglo-Saxon Invasion and Scandinavian Settlements: Eight Studies Collected by Kenneth Cameron (Nottingham, 1977), pp. 99–114. The original cited here. ‘I believe that there is a hard core of place-names for which the “pagan” interpretation is certainly valid, and that the subject will be anhanced rather than diminished by another attempt to weed out some of the less convincing specimins’ (110). 110 also shows it’s too hard to pin down Frig sorts of names. 117 notes interesting cluster of pagan names, incl. some now lost but in OE near monastery of Farnham. Doubtless this would reward reexamination. Goes for holy places and gods—nowt on monsters etc. Hmm. Her list of names 120–27. Here I take those thought to include supernatural beings which she accepts or accepts with ? (likewise so marked here). NB there may be a degree of circularity re the –leah element, which is surely part of what’s going on with Thursley—tho’ it’d be a long way south for a Scand Thūr name so may still be a goer.

Thundersfield, PN Sr 295, ‘Open space of Thunor’. Suggests from topog. that feld refers to a space in woods, Check later book on –feld.

Thunderley, PN Ess 546–7, ‘Sacred grove of Thunor’

Thundersley, PN Ess 172, ‘Sacred grove of Thunor’

Thunoreshlæw, near Manston in Thanet, Kent, in C11 story. ‘Tumulus of Thunor’

Thunorslege, Bexhill Sx, ‘Sacred grove of Thunor’

Thunresfeld near Chippenham W, ‘This occurs in some Old English bounds of Hardenbuish, in what appears from the place-name evidence to have been a large patch of open ground with woodland on either side. ‘Open Land of Thunor’ (122).

Thunreslau, Bulmer (PN Ess 418). ‘Tunor’s tumulus’. Also hundred-name so may have been meeting-place.

Thunreslea near Droxford, Hants. ‘Sacred grove of Thunor’

Thunreslea near Southampton, Hants. ‘Sacred grove of Thunor’

(?—my ?, not hers, ‘cos no OE attests and she’s not completely certain) Thursley (PN Sr 211–12), ‘Sacred grove of Thunor’

Thurstable (PN Ess 302), ev just a bit late to be really clear but GTP builds whole article on it in Tolkien festschrift; a hundred-name. And what else could it be?

Tislea north hants; this is our only form, of 1023, but she goes with it as ‘Sacred grove of Tig’.

Tyesmere (PN Wa 284), only this form, 849. Goes with ‘pool ofTig’.

Tysoe (PN Wa 284), seems pretty certain. ‘Old English hōh is here used either of the ridge of high ground south of Edge Hill or of one of the spurs jutting out from it.’ (123)

Wednesbury, Staffs, ‘Defended place of Woden’.. Earliest 1086 Wadnesberie. PNs of Staff out yet?

Wednesfield, Staffs, (c. 5 miles north of Wednesbury), ‘Open land of Woden’ on open heathland by pn ev.

Wensley (PN Db 411), ‘Sacred grove of Woden’

‘WODNESBEORG, WODNESDENE near Alton Priors and West Overton (PN W 17, 318): v. Gelling 1961, pp. 11–12, for a full discussion of these names, and of Woddes geat (considered to be an error for *Wodnes geat), in the same area. The three names occur in Old English bounds of estates bordering on Wandsdyke, ‘Woden’s ditch’; the difficult problems presented by this name are also discussed in Gelling 1961. Wodnesbeorg, ‘Woden’s tumulus’, is a neolithic long barrow now called Adam’s Grave. Wodnesdene, ‘Woden’s valley’, is now called Hursley Bottom. Woddes geat, ‘Woden’s gap’, is at a point where a road runs though Wansdyke.’ (126)

(?)Wodnesfeld, Widdington (PN Ess 579), only rec. 1303, ‘but seems more likely than not to be another “open land of Woden” ’ (126).

Wodeneslawe nr. Biggleswade (PN BedsHu 100), half-hundred name, ‘Woden’s tumulus’.

Woodnesborough nr Sandwich (PN K 586), ‘Woden’s tumulus’

Wansdyke refs to wodnesbeorg above.

Gelling, Margaret, Signposts to the Past: Place-Names and the History of England (London: Dent, 1978). ‘The typical hundred meeting-place, as revealed by the names of the hundreds, was in a sort of “no-man’s-land”, as far away as possible from the settlements of the community it served and on the boundary between two or more estates, but often near a main road or a river-crossing. A tumulus, a stone, or a tree were the sort of objects likely to be chosen as markers for the spot’ (210). 211 has some examples of trees in hundred-names taken as e.g.s of meeting places accordingly. No linden trees as such  150 mentions supernatural beings etc. and emphs relationship of puca and pits in later ev, esp. Gloucs. ‘References to elves are relatively frequent, and it has been suggested that some of these, and some of the “dwarf” names, refer to there being an echo at the place. There are said to be echoes at Dwarriden (“dwarf valley”) in Ecclesfield yow and at Elvendon (“elf hill”) in Goring oxf.’ (150).

Gelling, Margaret, Place-Names in the Landscape (London, 1984). ‘To people migrating from the northern coasts of Europe the marshes of south-eastern England cannot have appeared unfamiliar or exceptionally daunting’ (33). ‘Some of the names discussed in this chapter may go back to the earliest period of English name-giving. Those containing ēg are likely to be among the earliest names in any district, since this is the commonest English word in place-names recorded by AD 730. If it had continued to be used after 730 with the same frequency as in the earliest-recorded names it would have been a much commoner element than it is’—reckons it becomes obsolete in sense of ‘dry ground in marsh’ (33). ‘There is no way of ascertaining from the place-names whether the lowland areas called fenn, mōr or mersc were mostly derelict when the English first saw them, or whether the Anglo-Saxons used these words in naming flourishing pre-English settlements whose economy depended on the management of wetland’ (33). Cf. 33–34 on this.

Gelling, Margaret, The Place-Names of Shropshire, English Place-Name Society, 62/63, 70, 76, 80, 4 vols (Nottingham: English Place-Names Society, 1990–2004)

Gelling, Margaret, The West Midlands in the Early Middle Ages (Leicester, 1992). 122–24 on unusually large number of –tun names in West Midlands, esp. Shropshire. Dunno if relevant to ælfestun. Index does have an Alveston, on the Avon, which produced a lot of pagan burials (see 41–47). 48–52 re tumulus place-names. May be interesting.

Gelling, Margaret, ‘Place-Names and Landscape’, in The uses of Place-Names, ed. Simon Taylor, St John’s House Papers, 7 (Edinburgh, 1998), pp. XXXX!

Gelling, Margaret and Ann Cole, The Landscape of Place-Names (Stamford: Tyas, 2000). Discusses richness and detail of early OE toponymy, helping to convince me she’s not just deluded, xv–vi. English landscape unusually varied (xv); ‘It is likely that immigrants accustomed to the vast coastal marshes and the great plains of northern Europe were impresses by this variety and found it a linguistic challenge’ (xv). Travellers’ perceptions, by road and sea, may influence naming and help to encourage uniformity (xvi). ‘A view much favoured in recent years us that the type of settlement known to historical geographers as “nucleated” was a [xviii] comparatively late phenomenon, perhaps linked ti the adoption of open-field farming in the 10th century. In the last two decades several landscape historians have developed the model of small, shifting settlements which only coalesced into nucleated villages at the end of the Anglo-Saxon period’ (xvii–xviii).

Oddly doesn’t list Tyesmere in ref. section for Mere, tho’ does give Badlesmere KNT < *Bæddel, which she takes as a personal name. Maybe common word? Cf. Fishmere < Fiskermere LIN ‘fishermen’ (27). Check á–Box.

pol, pull, pyll 28–29 ‘pool, tidal creek, small stream’.

33 in ref section for wylle has nice list of religion and superstition refs with hæl ‘omen’, halig, run e.g.s.

Doesn’t have dic. or pytt.

133–40 re hop ‘remote enclosed place’, incl. re Fryup ‘The reference will be rather to the short, narrow valley which links the two Dales at their southern end. Fryup Hall stands at the opening of this in Great Fryup Dale. It is a very secluded spot, and additional interest is lent by the probability that the qualifier is a reference to the goddess Frīg’ (137).

145–52 re beorg, much as in 1998 no doubt: from her surveys, it can ‘be asserted confidently that the defining characteristic of a beorg is a continuously rounded profile. This probably explains the use of the word for tumuli in the southern half of England’ (145). Usually small (145–48—tho’ NB 146–7 are piccies)

178–80 re Hlaw, WS Hlæw, ‘tumulus, hill’. ‘This is primarily a term used for articifical mounds. It was generally preferred by the Anglo-Saxons for their own barrow burials, beorg being the commoner one for those of earlier cultures, but the distinction is not absolute’ (178). Mentions Drakelow as a recurrent name, tho’ that in WOR ‘is, however, a rocky outcrop, not a tumulus’ (178).

190–92 re hrycg ‘ridge’.

‘Modern landscape historians have rejected the views of their predecessors about both the extent of woodland in post-Roman Britain and the role which it played in the lives of Anglo-Saxon settlers. The extent of woodland in the 5th century is now considered to have been roughly comparable to that of the present day, and it seems probably that farmers, both British and Anglo-Saxon, regarded the woods more as vital resources than as obstacles to travel and settlement. The main exception is in south-east England, where the Weald was a formidable barrier, isolating the kingdom of Sussex’ (220).

221–23 re bearu ‘small wood’

leah 237–42 ‘forest, wood, glade, clearing’, later ‘pasture, meadow’. Dead frequent but Cox’s 22 pre 731 names had only 6 tun and 7 leah (237); ‘This indicates that both words came into common use in the mid-8th century’; then by mid C10 have other meanings, ‘pasture’ and ‘estate’ less appropriate to place-names. ‘Most names containing tun and leah were probably coined between c. 750 and c.950. // In area where tūn and léah predominate over all other place-name elements it is instructive to map them together. They are mutually exclusive to a remarkable extent, and it can be demonstrated that lēah was the usual term for settlements in heavily wooded country and tūn for those in land from which most trees had long since been cleared’ (237). ‘It may be regarded as established that lēah is an indicator of woodland which was in existence and regarded as ancient when English speakers arrived in any region’.

257–61 re wudu; ‘It was used for large stretches of woodland’ (257).

269–78, including quote of 1984 bit in large part it seems!

Doesn’tdo burgh or tun.

Gelling, Margaret, ‘The Landscape of Beowulf’, Anglo-Saxon England, 31 (2002), 7–11.

*Gelling, Peter, and Hilda Ellis Davidson, The Chariot of the Sun and Other Rites and Symbols of the Northern Bronze Age (London, 1969).

Génin, F. (ed.), L’Éclaircissement de la langue Française par Jean Palsgrave, Collection de documents inédits sur l’histoire de France, 73 (Paris: Imprimerie Nationale, 1852). Also at http://visualiseur.bnf.fr/Visualiseur?Destination=Gallica&O=NUMM-50821within http://gallica.bnf.fr/

**Gergen, .K., . ’The . Social . Constructionist .Movement . in . Modern . Psychology’, .American . Psychologist, .40 . (1985), . 266-75. [PERS AM 550 soc sci]

*Gergen, .K. .J., Realities .and .Relationships: .Surroundings .in ..Social .Constructionism .(Cambridge, .Mass, . 1994) [not in Glas]

GPC s.v. hud1 ‘[Crn. hus (cf. H. Crn. hudol, gl. magus), Llyd. hud: < Clt. *soito-, cf. H. Nor. seið]’ MW hut of course. English def.: ‘magic, wizardry, sorcery, witchcraft, spell, enchantment, charm, fascination, allurement, persuasion, enticement; illusion, apparition; deceit(fullness), deception, wile, trick, ruse, simulation, dissimulation, legerdemain’. Also as ad. ‘magic(al), charmed, illusory’. In WM.

s.v. hudaf: hudo ‘to fashion or produce by magic, conjure; cast a spell upon, enchant, charm; entice, allue, lure, persuade, seduce; beguile, deceive, cajole, cheat’. Goes back to MW.

s.v. hudlath ‘magic wand, ?fig. penis; soft-headed fellow, lubber’ MW likewise—in WM etc.

s.v. hudol ‘charming, enchanting, enticing, alluring; illusory, deceptive, deceitful’; also ‘enchanter, sorcerer, wizard, magician, conjurer, witch; enticer, seducer, deceiver, deluder, cheat’; MW.

s.v. hudolaidd ‘like a magician or sorcerer, deceptive, false, delusive, illusory, deceitful, wily; enticing, alluring,enchanting, charming, bewitching’; MW.

s.v. hudolawl, ‘misleading, delusive, deceptive, illusory’, MW.

s.v. hudoles, ‘enchantress, siren, sorceress, witch’, MW.

s.v. hudoliaeth, ‘magic, wizardry, sorcery, spell, witchcraft, enchantment, charm, fascination, allurement, persuasion, enticement, temptation; illusion, delusion, deceit(fulness), trick, legerdemain’, MW.

Quite a lot of derivatives, like hudaidd ‘alluring, charming, seductive’ assoc. with seduction, but none that I see before C16. More associated with deception tho’.

*Gerritsen, J., ‘The Text of the Leiden Riddle’, Englische Studien, 6 (1969), c. 529.

*Gersie, A., Storymaking in Bereavement (London, 1991). NB p. 11 re using story of Deirde.

Getz, Faye Marie (ed.), Healing and Society in Medieval England: A Middle English Translation of the Pharmaceutical Writings of Gilbertus Anglicus (Wisconsin, 1991). Not too relevant; glossary searched for elfy words, none found.

Getz, Faye, 'Medical Practitioners in Medieval England', Social History of Medicine, 3 (1990), 245-83

*Getz, Faye M., Medicine in the English Middle Ages (Princeton, 1998). Might be interesting chapter on medical texts. Useful for morality and health project?

Ghosh, Amitav, The Great Derangement: Climate Change and the Unthinkable (London: Penguin, 2016). 'if novels were not built upon a scaffolding of exceptional moments, writers would be faced with the Borgesian task of reproducing the world in its entirety. But the modern novel, unlike geology, has never been forced to confront the centrality of the improbable: the concealment of its scaffolding of events continues to be essential to its functioning. It is this that makes a certain kind of narrative a recognizably modern novel. // Here, then, is the irony of the ‘realist’ novel: the very gestures with which it conjures up reality are actually a concealment of the real.' (ch 6). 'It is precisely by exclusing those inconceivably large forces, and by telescoping the changes into the duration of a limited-time horizon, that the novel becomes narratable. Contrast this with the universes of boundless time and space that are conjoured up by other forms of prose narrative. Here, for example, are a couple of passages from the beginning of the sixteenth-century Chinese folk epic The Journey to the West: ‘At this point the firmament first acquired its foundation. With another 5,400 years came the Tzu epoch; the ethereal and the light rose up to form the four phenomena of the sun, the moon, the stars, and the heavenly bodies … Following P’an Ku’s construction of the universe … the world was divided into four great continents. … Beyond the ocean there was a country named Ao-lai. It was near a great ocean, in the midst of which was located the famous Flower-Fruit Mountain.’ Here is a form of prose narrative, still immensely popular, that ranges widely and freely over vast expanses of time and space. It embraces the inconceivably large almost to the same degree that the novel shuns it. Novels, on the other hand, conjure up worlds that become real precisely because of their finitude and distinctiveness. Within the mansion of serious fiction, no one will speak of how continents were created; nor will they refer to the passage of thousands of years: connections and events on this scale appear not just unlikely but also absurd within the delimited horizon of a novel ...' (61).

Ghosh, Shami, Writing the Barbarian Past: Studies in Early Medieval Historical Narrative, Brill’s Series on the Early Middle Ages, 24 (Leiden: Brill, 2016).

Hanna, Ralph, III, `The Manuscripts and Transmission of Chaucer's Troilus', in Pursuing History: Middle English Manuscripts and their Texts (Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 1996), pp. 115-29 (repr. from The Idea of Medieval Literature: New Essays on Chaucer and Medieval Culture in Honor of Donald R. Howard, ed. by James M. Dean and Christian K. Zacher (Newark: University of Delaware Press, 1992), pp. XXXXX-XXXXX Brotherton Main floor 4 English C-0.3 DEA)

Hanna, Ralph, `The Application of Thought to Textual Criticism in All Modes---with Apologies to A. E. Housman', Studies in Bibliography, 53 (2000), 163--72, accessed from http://etext.lib.virginia.edu/bsuva/sb/ 18 June 2012

*Hansen, Elaine Tuttle, ‘From Freolicu Folccwen to Geomuru Ides: Women in Old English Poetry Reconsidered’, Michigan Academician, 9 (1976), 109–17.

Hansen, Joseph, Quellen und Untersuchungen zur Geschichte des Hexenwahns und der Hexenverfolgung im Mittelalter (Hildesheim: Olms, 1901). Canon Episcopi, c. 900, got from Regino of Prüm’s Libri de synodalibus cuasis et disciplinas ecclesiasticis (38). Canon 371 ‘De mulieribus, quae cum daemonibus se dicunt nocturnis horis equitare’. Relevantest bit: ‘Illud etiam non omittendum, quod quaedam sceleratae mulieres retro post Satanam conversae (1 Timoth. 5, 15) daemonum illusionibus et phantasmatibus seductae, credunt se et profitentur nocturnis horis cum Diana paganorum dea [Späterer Zusatz [‘later addition’ I think] ‘vel cum Herodiade’] et innumera multitudine mulierum equitare super quasdam bestias, et multa terrarum spatia intempstae noctis silentio pertransire, eiusque iussionibus velut dominae obedire, et certis noctibus ad eius servitium evocari. Sed utinam hae solae in perfidiae sua perissent, et non multos secum in infidelitatis interitum [39] pertrxissent. Nam innumera multitudo hac falsa opinione decepta haec vera esse credit, et credendo a recta fide deviat et in errorem paganorum revolvitur, cum aliquid divinitatis aut numinis extra unum deum esse arbitratur’ (38-39). infl. on anon Tractatus de daemonibus, f. 176 (p. 82). etc. Cf. **Wasserschleben, F. G. A. (ed.), Reginonis abbatis Prumensis libri duo de synodalibus et disciplinis ecclesiasticis (Leipzig, 1840), 355 re Regino and ‘wild hunt’ stuff.

From Burchard’s bit, most relevant is: Kap. 5 § 170 ‘Credidisti quod multae mulieres retro Satanam conversae credunt et affirmant verum esse, ut credas in quietae noctis silentio, cum te collocaveris in lecto tuo et marito tuo in sinu tuo iacente, te dum corporea sis ianuis clausis exire posse, et terrarum spatia cum aliis simili errore deceptis pertransire valere, et homines baptizatos et Christi sanguine redemptos sine armis visibilibus et interficere et decoctis carnibus eorum vos comedere, et in loco cordis eorum stramen aut lignum, aut aliquod huiusmodi ponere, et commedtis, iterum vivos facere et inducias vivendi dare? Si credidisti, quadraginta dies, id est carinam, in pane et aqua cum septem sequentibus annis poeniteas’ (40).

Prints the Münchener Nachtsegen in normalised form 639–41.

Hansen, Lars Ivar and Bjørnar Olsen, Hunters in Transition: An Outline of Early Sámi History, The Northern World: North Europe and the Baltic c. 400–1700 AD. Peoples, Economics and Cultures, 63 (Leiden: Brill, 2014), {{ISBN|978-90-04-25254-7}}. 'For various reasons, ten years would pass before Barth’s dynamic view of ethnicity had an impact on research into the emergence of Sámi ethnicity. In 1983, however, social anthropologist and archaeologist Knut Odner published a book in which Barth’s theory forms the basis for understanding the emergence and maintenance of Sámi ethnicity. In the introduction to his study, Odner urges us to stop asking questions such as, “When did the Sámi arrive and where did they come from?” For him, the crucial question is rather, “Why did Sámi ethnicity arise and how has it been maintained to the present day?”' (23). 'Our position is that it may be meaningful to speak of Sámi ethnicity, at least as a retrospective category, from the end of the last millennium BC. Only then do we have documentation of hunting communities in interior, northern, and eastern Fennoscandia being involved in more extensive external interaction that may have caused the crucial ‘us-them’ awareness' (31). 'Previously, it was common to view both the emergence of farming and Germanic cultural identity as a result of immigration. Germanic/Norwegian groups from southwest Norway migrated to the northern areas where they appropriated the coastal zone most suitable for farming. Similarly, Finnish-speaking farmers from Estonia migrated into southern Finland and established themselves as rulers there. As we have mentioned earlier, there is little to support this ‘colonialist’ model. Already in the Bronze Age (and to a certain degree in the middle and late Neolithic Ages), the northern coastal communities show a southern affinity in mate­rial culture and economy.30 What took place, however, was a process of ‘Germanization’ within the northern coastal farming societies. // Decisive in the ‘final’ identity choice of these societies was probably the fact that increasing social stratification had led to the formation of chieftaincies in the first centuries AD. Consolidation of the chieftain­ cies was dependent on alliances with comparable societies and access to status goods that could legitimate the chieftains’ power. These were to be found in the south, and, as mentioned above, the ‘entry ticket’ to these alliance networks may well have been the adoption [p. 47 has pictures, text continues p. 48] of Germanic identity ... Participation in these exchange networks, however, also requires hav­ ing products to contribute. The greatest asset the northern chieftains possessed were the exotic hunting products they could supply to their southern alliance partners. Hunting products like walrus teeth, precious furs, and probably hunting falcons were luxury goods coveted by the European elite, in addition to more staple but important goods such as eider down, ship ropes, blubber oil, and common furs and skins. These goods were supplied by the Sámi hunting communities and transactions between the two ethnic groups were accordingly of great significance for the northern chieftaincies.' (pp. 46-48). 'Following the cessation of eastern contacts with metal-producing peoples in what is today Russia around the beginning of our era, the cultural his­ tory of northern Fennoscandia entered a new epoch. In the Sámi areas, the millennium that followed was characterized by apparent ethnic ano­ nymity in the material remains. ... According to Carpelan, the relationship of dependence on the surround­ ing peasant communities caused the hunter-gatherers to abandon some of their characteristic cultural traits, which were the consequence of a more independent economic adaptation. This change may also be due to the fact that the need to signal their ethnicity, or to emphasize sepa­ rate socio-economic interaction patterns, was less prominent among the hunter-gatherers during the first millennium ad than in both the preced­ ing and following eras. Like Carpelan, it is our view that this was related to the specific condition of interaction established between the Sámi hunt­ ing communities and their farming neighbors. This interaction involved new social and economic conditions for the hunting population, which, in turn, affected their cultural articulation' (p. 123). 'During the Early Metal Age, interaction between the hunting population of northern Fennoscandia and the metal-producing societies to the south and east was characterized by long distance networks where things and goods traveled through many intermediaries. The hunter-gatherer groups became involved in different systems of exchange: the coastal popula­ tion in a southern network and the population of the interior (and the far northern coast) in an eastern one. Direct encounters, in which repre­ sentatives of other cultures actually met the hunter-gatherers, were prob­ ably quite limited. However, in the Iron Age, these former long-distance contacts, characterized as they were by minimal face-to-face interaction, were replaced by much more intimate contacts organized on a local, inter­ ethnic level. In northern Norway, the former hunting communities along the coast had transformed and now appeared as hierarchically-organized farming communities. It was through these groups that the ‘remaining’ hunter-gatherers in the north and the interior organized much of their contacts with the outside world' (124). 'As a result of different forms of cultural contact, linguists assume that an earlier original language common to Sámi and Balto-Finnic (which could be termed ‘the common Sámi-Finnic proto-language’) was divided up into languages which constituted the precursors of Sámi and the different Balto-Finnic languages respectively (see box text: The Sámi Language).290 This separation is assumed to have taken place in the latter half of the second millennium bc. Considerable uncertainty is connected with both the dating and cultural processes of linguistic development, but this proto-language may have been spoken throughout much of northern Fennoscandia, including the later ‘Germanic’ coastal areas.291 A language change in the direction of Germanic may have occurred simultaneously with the emergence of the precursors of modern Balto-Finnic languages. // [126] This linguistic parting of ways may have occurred as part of a more extensive process of cultural differentiation during the last millennium bc, as we have described earlier (see chap. 2.5). As a result, what began as a relatively heterogeneous population of hunter-gatherers was divided up into three main groups. In the south of what is now Finland lived the pre­ decessors of the Finns, who, to an increasing extent, adopted agriculture as their principal livelihood. In inner and northern Fennoscandia lived the predecessors of the Sámi, who kept to their original way of life as hunter- gatherers. In the coastal areas of northern Norway and northern Sweden, we must assume that a more dramatic language change took place. Here, the predecessors of the Germanic population adopted an early Germanic language on the basis of social and economic choices. During the first few centuries ad, Sámi (ethnic) identity was gradually consolidated through interaction and exchange with Finnish (Finlanders) and Scandinavian (northern Germanic) groups. As a result of this trade, mutual stereotyped conceptions of expected behavior developed and spread to include other, more distant hunting groups. This spread of what were originally region­ ally limited ethnic categories might have occurred because ethnicity had resulted in structured access to resources and had become a gateway to desirable commodities.' (125-26). New Loanwords still travelling across all the Sámi languages from early Norse, c. C8, so Sámi is still a dialect continuum then; but break up into different languages seems to be underway in first centuries AD and is clear by C16 when we first have written evidence for Sámi. South Sámi seems to have archaic features suggesting it's in position in the last milennium BCE. P. 127: first millenium CE there's little evidence for ostentatious ethnic marking by the hunter-gatherer populations, unlike the Germanic-speaking ones. Maybe they just didn't feel the need to signal commonalities/differences of this kind, Hansen and Olsen think. 'It is also worth noting that, with the exception of a language community and social and eco­ nomic similarities, there is little in the Iron Age (up to the Viking Age) to suggest any conscious identifiers of Sámi ethnicity in the form of a common, pan-Sámi repertoire of symbols. As we shall see, this probably changed towards the end of the Viking Age' (127). C9 Novgorod draws Finns and Sámi people into long-distance, east-facing trading contacts attested by bronze finds in northern Fennoscandia. At the same time, slab-lined pits indicate similar West-directed trade, with western coin finds turning up from late C10 in sacrificial sites.

*Hansen, William, 'The Theft of the Thunderweapon: A Greek Myth in its International context', Classica et Mediaevalla, 46 (1995), 5-24.

Hanslik, Rvdolphvs (ed.), Benedicti Regvla, Corpvs scriptorvm ecclesiasticorvm latinorvm, 75 (VindobonaeXXXX, 1960).

Hardy, Thomas Duffus and Charles Trice Martin (ed. and trans.), Lestoire des Engles solum la translacion Maistre Geffrei Gaimar, The Rolls Series, 91, 2 vols (London: Eyre and Spottiswoode, 1888).

Hare, David, The Power of Yes (London: Faber and Faber, 2009)

*Harf-Lancner, Laurence, ‘Une Mélusine Galloise: La Dame du lac de Brecknock’, Mélanges Jeanne Lods, ENSJF, 1 (Paris, 1978), pp. 323–38.

Harf-Lancner, Laurence, Les Fées au Moyen Âge: Morgane et Mélusine: La naissance des fées (Paris, 1984). 63-74 re male fairies. Also Crane 1994, 151, n. 14, ‘Harf-Lancer’s premise is that fairies are of two types, that of the conquering and controlling Morgan who ravishes heroes to the otherworld and that of the submissive Melusine who marries a mortal and serves him with her magic; my argument is that conquest and submission, benevolence and malevolence, and other oppositions are more importantly confounded than distinguished in fairies of romance’. 13 bit of a survey of dictionary definitions. ‘Dans toutes ces définitions (hormis la dernìere), la fée est dotée d’un don divinatoire qui ne va pas toutefos jusqu’au pouvoir de déterminer l’avenir des humains: elle appartient ainsi de droit aux déesses du Destin’ (13). Accepts fata etymology without pause (17). ‘Comme les Parques, les Fées ou Destinées décident du destin des hommes à leur naissance. Mais les Parques ne possèdent pas le trait dominant des fées médiévales, leur charactère essentiellement érotique’ (17). Rather the nymphae do (17). Fallen together, then? Citing Alfred Maury, Les Fées du Moyen Age (Paris, 1843) (17 n. 2; cf. 17-18). This much sounds fine. Quotes De Civitate Dei XV, 23 re incubi: interesting, check out. also mentions mysterious Dusii.6, 7; 7, 27; 7, 18; 18, 17 alos look interesting re nymphae etc. Quotes also Martin of Braga, De correctione rusticorum §§7-8, incl. ‘Praeter haec autem multi daemones ex illis, qui de caelo expulsi sunt, aut in mari aut in fluminibus aut in fontibus aut in silvis praesident, quos similiter homines ignorantes deum quasi deos colunt et sacrificia illis offerunt. … quae omnia maligni daemones et spiritus nequam sunt, qui homines infideles, qui signaculo crucis nesciunt se munire, nocent et vexant’ (21), wow, what a great passage. Re Isidore on classical gods etc, ‘Mais les incudes, présentés par Augustin comme l’objet d’une superstition populaire (“quos vulgo incubos vocant”), semblent rejoindre ici dans le domaine de la culture savante (“Latine incubi […] dicuntur ab incumbendo”) les divinités oubliées’ (22). ‘On ne semble les confondre ni avec les “Fata” ni avec les nymphes’ (22). None of the characteristic fairy shags knight stuff here (23).

23-25 re Burchard of Worms. c. 1000, penitentiary, Chh. 10, 19 look well interesting. PL 140, coll. 831-54, 950-1014. trans anywhere? Parcae and Sylvaticae (cf. re Eadric Sylvaticus?) Diana and her lot zooming about etc. ‘L’évocation des chavauchées nocturne de Diane et de ses compagnes dan la forêt apparaît pour la première fois dans le Canon episcopi, qui énumère les pratiques de sorcellerie le plus courantes vers l’an 900: voir J. Hansen, Quellen und Untersuchungen zur Geschichte des Hexenwahns, Bonn, 1901, p. 38; *C. Ginzberg …[night battles]. Ces figures sont explicitement identifiées aux fées dans les procès de condamnation de Jeanne d’Arc … (*éd. P. Tisset, Paris, 1971, t. I, p. 178)’ (24 n. 20). Doesn’t seem bothered that Burchard is not obviously on the Roman/Celtic side of proceedings. Fair enough—but does that situate lots of this stuff with the Gmc. folks?

Härke, Heinrich, ‘Early Anglo-Saxon Social Structure’, in The Anglo-Saxons from the Migration Period to the Eighth Century: An Ethnographic Perspective, ed. by John Hines, Studies in Archaeoethnology, 2 (Woodbridge, 1997), pp. 125–70. Age 126–30 not really relevant to me, except that all ages seem to live together (really for want of evidence to the contrary). 130–37 ‘Sex and Gender’. Covers debate about whether women get high status early on, tending to favour yes, esp. 130–32. ‘One aspect that all commentators have agreed on, though, is the clear assumption in virtually all extant sources that marriage was monogamous’ (130). ‘Where females are mentioned in the laws, from Æthelberht’s (between AD 597 and 616) to Alfred’s (between AD 885 and 899), a woman’s status is almost invariably determined by that of her father: marriage did not lead to a change of social class ….[ref] [131]. Apart from her calss, the most important status distinction of a free woman is her marital status (unmarried, married, widow): in the case of men, this is less oftend mentioned and clearly of much less importance (Fell 1984a:62). And the laws of Ine mention almost in passing, as a matter of course, that a woman must obey ‘her lord’ (Ine 57). i.e. her husband’ (130–31). ‘It has often been suggested that Christianity brought about a change in women’s status because ecclesiastical writings portraying women as inferior and impure are assumed to have affected social attitudes. However, Fell (1984a:13-4) has emphasized that these writings largely remained theoretical, and that—at least initially—little changed at the practical level. One may add that, if there was any change in the perception and status of women after about AD 600, this may have had as much to do with Christian theories as with the emergence of statehood in England. One concomitant of the development of state structures is the decline in importance of kinship and family links, and this is likely to have affected gender relations as it probably affected the status and treatment of children’ (132). Majority—if only slightly—of early Anglo-Saxon burials strong on gender-marking with grave-goods. Men get weapons, women spinning and weaving kit (132). ‘The mutually exclusive gender attribution of these artefacts has been supported, in the overwhelming number of cases (over 99 per cent), by skeletal sexing. There is a small number of exceptions where archaeological and skeletal sexing are in disagreement. It is not impossible that some of them are genuine cases of cross-dressing, but the very rarity of this phenomenon suggests that it may be the product of the error span inherent in skeletal sexing. This suspicion is confirmed [133] by a current re-study of the archaeology and biology of key cases from this group. Also, there is not a simgle unambiguous case of mixing of the gender-specific artefact kits in undisturbed graves’ (132–33) citing an ongoing study by N. Stoodley (arch, Reading), T. Molleson (Phys anth. London) and J. Bailey (DNA Oxford). Gender differences in inhumation orientation: women more often head to south than males and more often in flexed position on the side; standard is on back, head west. ‘Both traits link the mortuary treatment of female adults with that of children (ca 20 per cent with head to south, and ca 20 per cent flexed; cf. above). In her analysis of the East Anglian cemetery of Holywell Row, Pader (1982:130) suggested that this could mean tht women and children were assigned a similar status, different from (and by implication, inferior to) men. It should, however, be noted that the gender-specific differences in burial treatment vary from cemetary to cemetary. This need not weaken Pader’s interpretation, but it does indicate local variations in gender-linked ritual symbolism. It is conceivable that this also implies local and regional variations in gender relations’ (133). Notes Alfred’s will refers to ‘spear side’ and ‘distaff side’ (133–34, on correlation of arch ev. with this sort of thing). Cf. notes on Curzan if you took any. Anthrop comparisons suggests that gender roles blur in frontiersocieties; soes the arch. contradict this or reflect attempts to redress the balance? (135–36). Settlement archaeology doesn’t give much away, though check Hastorp 1991 (136); but he goes for SFBs as weaving workshops; ‘The even distribution of SFBs within settlement sites means that [137] weaving sheds were not concentrated to create a female activity area for the entire settlement. Rather, each household or farmstead had its own female activity area defined by it own weaving shed (if it had one). Other gender-specific areas in settlements of this period have yet to be identified’ (136–37). ‘Social groups: family, household, community’ 137–41. Looks like a useful survey; concludes ‘Overall the evidence seems to point to small communities made up of a few farmsteads each. It is suggested here that households formed the basic residential and economic units in the fifth to mid-seventh centuries. They comprised individuals and groups of different status, most likely the family of the master of the household, and unfree or semi-free dependants’ (140). 141–48 re legal status and social class. 146 particularly useful on arch ev. for C7 decrease in burial of weapons etc. except in a continuing small elite group. But status not very evident in settlement C5–6 but maybe appearing C7 (146–48).

Härke, Heinrich, ‘Cemeteries as Places of Power’, in Topographies of Power in the Early Middle Ages, ed. by Mayke de Jong and Frans Theuws with Carine van Rhijn, The Transformation of the Roman World, 6 (Leiden: Brill, 2001), pp. 9–30.

Härke, Heinrich, 'Anglo-Saxon Immigration and Ethnogenesis', Medieval Archaeology, 55 (2011), 1-28 https://doi.org/10.1179/174581711X13103897378311

HARLEY 3376 f. 76r ll. 9 ff (new line starting fan-entries), with fonts approximately accuate relative sizes etc:

godwrecnes. ,hearhlicre. þæs hæþenan . ł templicre

fanaticia · fanatice ·i· profani ·

futura praecinens. ł ylfig . praedicandum · pronuntiandum ·

fanaticus ·i· minister templi · fandum ·i· loquendum

Did you know? Harley 3376 top margin ff. 16v–17r has some very faint early (?) Middle English on. Is this noted by folks?

59r has a column of z-words crossed out among a load of Ds.

Sometimes groups glosses by root I think, as in fanatic stuff and as in f. 39v re contemplation contemplator, contemplatio, contemplor, etc.)

*Harman, M., T. J. Molleson and J. L. Price, ‘Burials, Bodies and Beheadings in Romano-British and Anglo-Saxon Cemeteries’, Bulletin of the British Museum, Nat. Hist. (Geology), 35 (1981), 145–88.

*Harmening, Dieter, Superstitio: Überlieferungsund theoriegeschichtliche Untersuchungen zur kirchlich-theologischen Aberglaubensliteratur des Mittelalters (Berlin: Schmidt, 1979); see Künzel 1992 for a critique.

*Harner, Michael J., Hallucinogens and Shamanism (OUP, 1973)

*Harrington, Christina, Women in a Celtic Church: Ireland 450–1150 (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2002). Including CH. 8, ‘Proximities and Boundaries: Sexual Anxiety and the Monastery’. 226–46. ‘Another change is also evident. A new topos is that of the woman who attempts to seduce the monk or cleric. The rise of this subject in ecclesiastical writing is hardly surprising, given the events and trends in England and the Continent. In England, the Benedictine reforms were proceeding apace … On the Continent, from the eleventh century the papalreforms, one of whose platforms was reform of the clergy to a celibate norm, were alsocreating a stir. Both movements framed women as clerics’ seducers’ (238).

Harris, Anne Leslie, ‘Hands, Helms, and Heroes: The Role of Proper Names in Beowulf’, Neuphilologische Mitteilungen, 83 (1982), 414–21. Just some notes re appropriateness of Honscio, Æschere, Wulf, Eofer, Dæghræfn.

Harris, Joseph, 'A Note on eorðscræf/eorðsele and Current Interpretations of The Wife's Lament', English Studies, 58 (1977), 204-8; https://doi.org/10.1080/00138387708597824.

Harris, Joseph, ‘Cursing with the Thistle: “Skírnismál” 21, 6–8, and OE Metrical Charm 9, 16–17’, in The Poetic Edda: Essays on Old Norse Mythology, ed. by Paul Acker and Carolyne Larrington (New York: Routledge, 2002), pp. 79–93. originally published as ‘Cursing with the Thistle: Skírnismál 31, 6–8, and OE Metrical Charm XXXX, 16–17’, Neuphilologische Mitteilungen, 76 (1975), 26–33. The notes are from the original but the repr. has an afterword which is worth knowing, es. for bibl. Check on out. Summary: ‘The disputed passage in the Skínismál curse (“ver þú sem þistill, / sá er var þrunginn / í ²nn ofanverða”) can be clarified by comparison to a magical simile in the curse from OE Metrical Charm 9: “Eall he weornige, swa syre wudu weornie, / swa breðel seo swa þystel…”; in both the cursed person is imperatively likened to a brittle autumn thistle about to burst with its load of seed. This interpretation is supported by occurrences of þrunginn in other Eddaic passages, by plant images in in the OE Metrical Charms, and by reference to the general folklore phenomenon of association between human life and dying or waning objects’, etc. literary stuff (26). Þistill bit follows bit on ‘með þursi þríh²fðoðom…’. Historiog 27-28. No particularly strong verbal parallel.

Harris, Stephen J., Race and Ethnicity in Anglo-Saxon Literature, Medieval History and Culture, 24 (New York: Routledge, 2003). H Avokok. 820 Good this, get it in Glasgow.

Harris, Sylvia C., ‘The Cave of Lovers in the “Tristramssaga” and Related Tristram Romances’, Romania, 98 (1977), 306–30.

Harrison, Dick, ‘Invisible Boundaries and Places of Power: Notions of Liminality and Centrality in the Early Middle Ages’, in The Transformation of Frontiers: From Late Antiquity to the Carolingians, ed. by Walter Pohl, Ian Wood and Helmut Reimitz, The Transformation of the Roman World, 10 (Leiden: Brill, 2001), pp. 83–93. ‘In discussions of boundaries, frontiers, centres and similar spatial concepts, the human mind has a tendency to focus on what is—or rather what appears to be—visibly apparent. Furthermore, if the participants of the discussion happen to be historians, they will in most cases go one step furhter, limiting their debates to speculations on cultural and geographical features that can be grasped within a political sphere of thinking, such as the famous walls of Hadrian, Aurelian, Shi Huangdi and Erich Honecker. The political facts would stand in the foreground of the debate and/or the study. What I would like to suggest is that we morecarefully take into consideration what is meant by the spatial concepts themselves. In order to grasp the nature of a so-called frontier (or, for that matter, a so-called centre), we must try to understand the very conceptualisation of space. Political, religious and economic thinking was mirrored in a specific kind of spacial consciousness’ (83).

Harrison, Dick, ‘Structures and Resources of Power in Early Medieval Europe’, in The Construction of Communities in thr Early Middle Ages: Texts, Resources and Artefacts, ed. by Richard Corradini, Max Diesenberger and Helmut Reimitz, The Transformation of the Roman World, 12 (Leiden: Brill, 2003), pp. 17–37. Rants about lack of explicit theorising, holistic approaches to stuff etc. But not very exciting.

Harsley, Fred (ed.), Eadwine’s Canterbury Psalter, Early English Text Society, 92 (London: Trübner, 1889)

Hart, Stephen M. and Wen-chin Ouyang, 'Introduction. Globalization of Magical Realism: New Politics of Aesthetics', in XXXXX, pp. 1-. 'From a term used in 1925 by a German art critic, Franz Roh, to indicate the demise of Expressionism, 1 magical realism grew to become an important feature of the Boom literature of the 1960s in Latin America (particularly in Gabriel García Márquez’s One Hundred Years of Solitude of 1967) until it became, by the 1990s, in the words of Homi Bhabha ‘the literary language of the emergent postcolonial world’.' (citing Homi Bhabha, ‘Introduction’, Nation and Narration (London: Routledge, 1995), pp. 1–7 (pp. 6–7).). 'Stephen Slemon’s 1988 article, ‘Magic Realism as Post-Colonial Discourse’, for example, epitomises this trend' of linking magical realism with postcolonial (6). 'The question inevitably arises: how is it that magical realism has been so successful in migrating to various cultural shores?' (6)--but is it polygenesis? 'As Boehmer further suggests: ‘Like the Latin American, they [postcolonial writers in English] combine the supernatural with local legend and imagery derived from colonialist cultures to represent cultures which have been repeatedly unsettled by invasion, occupation, and political corruption. Magic effects, therefore, are used to indict the follies of both empire and [7] its aftermath’ (p. 235)' (6-7).

Harte, Jeremy, ‘Holy Wells and Other Holy Places’, Living Spring Journal, 1 (2000), < http://www.bath.ac.uk/lispring/journal/home.htm> [accessed 26–3–2004]

Harte, Jeremy, ‘Hell on Earth: Encountering Devils in the Medieval Landscape’, in The Monstrous Middle Ages, ed. by Bettina Bildhauer and Robert Mills (Cardiff: University of Wales Press, 2003), pp. 177–95. A survey of various stories about walking dead and devils in the world. Mainly English, some French; occasional glances to Scandinavia. Some interesting stuff on landscape: demons infest pockets of woodland, not vast wastelands. Re glc, ‘On one occasion he woke from the troubled dream of an old soldier to hear the devils speaking Welsh, the language of the Other’ (190). Beautifully deadpan! Quotes Vita Antonii with a good bit about how demons used to be everywhere but with the coming of the Word they started to get chased away (citing Contra gentes & De incarnatione, ed. and tr. Robert W. Thomson (OUP 1971), 253).

*Haruta, Setsuko, ‘The Women in Beowulf’, Poetica (Tokyo), 23 (1986), 1–15.

Harva, Uno, Suomalaisten muinaisusko (Porvoo: Söderström, 1948).

*Harward, V. J., The Dwarfs of Arthurian Romance and Celtic Tradition (Leiden, 1958), pp 74–81.

Hast, Sture (ed.), Harðar saga, Editiones Arnamagæanae, series A, 6 (Copenhagen: Munksgaard, 1960). 15-88 on AM 556 a 4to--mainly on palaeography etc. (places of residence in the following borrowed from handrit.is): 'Hs torde ha ägts av f[oljande personer, vilkas namn finnas i hs: s marginaler eller vilka äro befryndade med föregående och följande i ägarekedjan: 1) Eggert Hannesson (c:a 1515-c:a 1583 [1544-1580, Núpur (bóndabær), Ísafjarðarsýsla, Western, Iceland 1580-1583, Hamburg (borg), Germany]); 2) Magnús Jónsson hinn prúði (c:a 1525-1591 [?]); 3) Þorleifur Magnússon (c:a 1581-1652 [?]); 4) Gísli Magnússon eller Vísi-Gísli (1621-1696 [Hlíðarendi (bóndabær), Rangárvallasýsla, Southern, Iceland]); 5) Þórður Steindórsson (c:a 1630-1707). Från den sistnämnde har tydligen A.M.:s morbror Páll Ketilsson fått den och sänt den till A.M. senast 1699, ty detta år skriver A.M. i AM 122c, fol., s. lr f...' (15); more on how Árni got it and from whom 15-16. 16-30 puts together the evidence for an earlier owner, lögmaður Jón Sigmundsson (died 1520); the Wikipedia entry for him suggests he's pretty mboile though! http://is.wikipedia.org/wiki/J%C3%B3n_Sigmundsson.

Hast, Sture, Pappershandskrifterna till Harðar saga, Bibliotheca Arnamagnæana, 23 (Copenhagen: Munksgaard, 1960). Important as a study of a complete tradition of saga MSS. Has some important methodological points at the start about stemma-making. Finds weight of production to be in C17 and South and West.

*Hastorp, C., ‘Gender, Space and Prehistory’, in Engendering Archaeology, ed. by J. M. Gero and W. M. Conkey (Oxford, 1991), pp. 132–59.

*Hastrup, K., ‘Cosmology and Society in Medieval Iceland’, Ethnologia Scandinavica (1981)

Hastrup, Kirsten, Culture and History in Medieval Iceland: An Anthropological Analysis of Structure and Change (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1985). 136-54 re ‘The World Beyond Society’; 145-54 ‘Alternative models of the cosmos’. Problems of sources (145-7). ‘There was a fundamental distinction between a horizontal and a vertical axis. Horizontally, the cosmos was divided into Miðgarðr and Útgarðr. Miðgarð was the central space, as implied by the name, inhabited by men (and gods), while Útgarðr was found ‘outside the fence’, beyond the borders of Miðgarðr, and inhabited by giants and non-humans. We note here the close parallel to the conceptualization of the farmstead (innangarðs) and the surrounding uncontrolled space (útangarðs). According to the myths of creation, this initial division of cosmos into two separate spaces was brought about by the gods (æsir), who subsequently built their own abode, Ásgarðr, somewhere inside Miðgarðr. There was no opposition between heaven and earth in this model, and topologically Ásgarðr was inseparable from Miðgarðr. Consequently there was no absolute distinction between men and gods. In opposition to the men and the (controlled) gods stood the uncontrolled, often hostile, jötnar (‘giants’) and other kinds of supernatural beings’ (147), with refs. ‘We can understand that such a horizontal model of cosmological space should have caught the imagination of Icelanders (—or of Snorri) in particular. This model so fitted Icelandic social and spacial realities that each level of reality affirmed the others to an astonishing degree’ (148). Thus æsir vs jötnar 148. ‘In quite a few mythological events, as well as in some of the genealogies of the æsir and jötnar, the distinction between gods and giants was blunted. As Haugen (1970) has demonstrated for Norse mythology in general, it is a characteristic feature of this system of beliefs that elements which are distinct at one level merge into a single category at another, the distinctive feature being nautralised by a mediating element. THis appears to have been the case as regards the distinction between men and gods. At one level men are distinct from the gods, but at another level both merge into a single category opposed to the category of the [149] inhabitants of Útgarðr. In this connection the mediating element was Miðgarðr itself’ (148-9). 149-51 re vertical elements; ‘In yhr horizontal model the Christian parallels are less conspicuous. The horizontal model with its opposition between Miðgarðr and Útgarðr seems to have been based on a particular Scandinavian concept of cosmology, which was independent of the presence of Ásgarðr inside Miðgarðr. This seems to explain why the fundamental opposition between the inside “middle” garth and the “outer” garth could persist in the imagination of the people, even when the æsir of Ásgarðr had been expelled once and for all by Christianity. Consequently the giants, elves, and trolls of Útgarðr were able to survive even though the gods disappeared, because the horizontal model was left untouched by Christianity, which was essentially based on a vertical model—like Yggdrasill. In this way two alternative models continued to exist in Iceland; in some senses, they still do’ (151). Innangarðs and útangarðs too basic to be glossed over by Xianity (151).

Hastrup, Kirsten, A Place Apart: An Anthropological Study of the Icelandic World (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1998)

Hastrup, Kirsten, `Getting it Right: Knowledge and Evidence in Anthropology', Anthropological Theory (2004), 455--72. DOI: 10.1177/1463499604047921. Interesting generally; discusses huldufólk 465--66.

Hasenfratz, Robert J., ‘the Theme of the “Penitent Damned” and its Relation to Beowulf and Christ and Satan’, Leeds Studies in English, n.s. 21 (1990), 45-69. Grendel and penitent damned—emphs sympathy you feel for him (and Satan). Convincing enough. How does it relate to the Danes? Grendel approaches humanity in his damnation; but Beowulf approaches Damnation for his own part (cf. Andy; Dragland, 1977).

Hathaway, E. J., P. T. Ricketts, C. A. Robson and A. D. Wiltshere (eds), Fouke le Fizt Waryn, Anglo-Norman Text Society, 26–28 (Oxford: Blackwell, 1975)

*Haubrichs, W., ‘Althochdeutsche in Fulda und Weissenburg: Hrabanus Maurus unt Otfried von Weissenberg’, in Hrabanus Maurus: Lehrer, Abt und Bischof, ed. by R. Kottje and H. Zimmerman (Wiesbaden, 1981), pp. 182–93.

Hauck, Frühmittelalterlichen Studien 2 (1968) on FrC

Hauer, Stanley R., ‘Stucture and Unity in the Old English Charm Wið Færstice’, English Language Notes, 15 (1977–78), 250–57. Hauer 1978 [NW2 P718.c.141] Vs. the old bipartite reading and other divisive readings (summarized 250–51). ‘Instead, I suggest a return to an earlier view (intimated in part by A. R. Skemp and others, but never fully articulated) that the three scenes describing the attacking spirits in the first part of the charm are echoed in the twice-intoned triplets of gods, elves, and witch in the second; and by these very parallels the two part [252] of the lyric are given a common purpose, structure, and unity. The wild riders of lines 3–6 reappear as the esa of lines 23 and 25; the mighty women of lines 7–12 are represented by the hægtessan of lines 24 and 26; and the smiths of line 16 occur as the ylfa in lines 23 and 25’ (251–52). This assumes that the mihtigan wif are not the dudes riding around (252–53)—hmm. Makes usual link of smith with magic; cleverly argues that ælfe ae smiths cos of dökkálfar (255). Also ‘cos stones etc. are called elf-stones etc. (255) but cf. Meaney on that. Alas! Diligent about reading hægtessan as sing. see 256 for another e.g. Obviously taking it as pl. works much better.

Haugen, Einar, ‘The Mythical Structure of the Ancient Scandinavians: Some Thoughts on Reading Dumézil’, in Structuralism: A Reader, ed. by M. Lane (London, 1970), pp. 170-83. [Soc sci A200LANE] repr. frpom To Honour Roman Jakobson (The Hague, 1956). Seems impressed by Dumézil. Not very interesting anyway.

Haugen, Odd Einar, The Menota Handbook: Guidelines for the Electronic Encoding of Medieval Nordic Primary Sources, Version 2.0, TEI P5 Conformant (Bergen: The Medieval Nordic Text Archive, 2008), http://www.menota.org/guidelines/index.page

Haukur S. Magnússon, `What Are You Voting For, Reykjavík?', The Reykjavík Grapevine, XXXXX (25 May 2010), XXXXX. http://grapevine.is/mag/feature/2010/05/25/feature-what-are-you-voting-for-reykjavik.

Haukur Þorgeirsson, 'Gullkársljóð og Hrafnagaldur: Framlag til sögu fornyrðislags', Gripla, 21 (2010), 299–334

Haukur Þorgeirsson, 'A Stemmatic Analysis of the Prose Edda', Saga-Book, 41 (2017), 49-70.

Hawkes, Jane, ‘Symbolic Lives: The Visual Evidence’, in The Anglo-Saxons from the Migration Period to the Eighth Century: An Ethnographic Perspective, ed. by John Hines, Studies in Archaeoethnology, 2 (Woodbridge, 1997), pp. 311–44.

Haymes, Edward R. (trans.), The Saga of Thidrek of Bern, Garland Library of Medieval Literature, Series B, 56 (New York: Garland, 1988).

Healey, Antoinette diPaolo, ‘Questions of Fairness: Fair, Not Fair, and Foul’, in Unlocking the Wordhord: Anglo-Saxon Studies in Memory of Edward B. Irving, Jr., ed. by Mark C. Amodio and Katherine O’Brien O’Keefe (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2003), pp. 252–73 apparently discusses the problem of assigning meanings,primary and secondary. Hmm, well doesn’t do it explicitly.

*Hearne, Hemingi chartularium ecclesiae Wigorniensis, ed. by T. Hearne, 2 vols (Oxford, 1723)

*Hedeager, Lotte, ‘Myter og materiel kultur: den nordiske oprindelsesmyte i det tidlige kristne Europa’, Tor, 28 (1996), 217–34. Goes totally with Traditionskern thing, and extends to material culture it seems: argues that style I iconography reflects mythical and cosmological view of the world, and the identity that goes with it.

Hedeager, Lotte, ‘Odins offer. Skygger af en shamanistisk tradition i norsk folkevandringstid’, Tor, 29 (1997), 265–78. Hmm, seems to predicated on assumptions of what Odin-worship was like which look dodgy. Couldn’t be arsed reading the rest.

*Hedeager, L., ‘Cosmological Endurance: Pagan Identities in Early Christian Europe’, European Journal of Archaeology, 1 (1998), 382–96.

*Hedeager, L., ‘Myth and Art: A Passport to Political Authority in Scandinavia during the Migration Period’, in The Making of Kingdoms, ed. by T. Dickinson and D. Griffiths, Anglo-Saxon Studies in Archaeology and History, 10 (Oxford, 1999), pp. 151–56.

Hedeager, Lotte, ‘Asgard Reconstructed? Gudme—a “Central Place in the North” ’, in Topographies of Power in the Early Middle Ages, ed. by Mayke de Jong and Frans Theuws with Carine van Rhijn, The Transformation of the Roman World, 6 (Leiden: Brill, 2001), pp. 467–507. Funen, C3–6/7 Buys into Gudme as home of Odin cult partly on pants bracteate evidence partly on just making it up I think. Nice idea though (475–78). On importance of hall with nice refs (which I’ve mainly taken down) and citeworthy as a sort of recent survey 478–80. Cites one Mary Helms, whose books sound interesting. Emphs cultural, spiritual power of connections with distant places, as by artefacts from those places.481–85. Opens up the dry-sounding concept of ‘prestige goods’. 485–87 re prominence of craft activity (metalworking, jewellery; weaving and woodworking hard to spot) and argued from comparative ev. for spiritual cache of smiths; ‘These views from anthropology and ethno-history furnish a tempting frame of reference for the interpretation of the archaeological evidence from Gudme … In Gudme as well, artisan smiths, shamans and long-distance travellers may have functioned as “specialists in distance”, concentrated in what constituted a multifunctional central place’ (487). NB the tempting. 490–92 smiths in ON lit: emphs material involving dvergar, who live on their own, magical etc.—but do I believe it? 490–91 re Vkv with some odd exaggerations like that V. is married to a ‘valkyrie, a giant woman from the outside world. She was a skilled weaver…’ (491), hmm. 491–92 Reginn, perhaps slightly more convincing: a bit out on a limb, a traveller etc. But ‘To sum up, such skilled smiths, whether dwarfs or men, have certain specific traits in common. They all belonged to the realm outside human society; they were all males and they were—for social, not biological reasons—unable to reproduce themselves’ (492) says it all: attractive but tosh. Hines 2003 better but still owes more to rhetoric than data. 494–98 re ‘Central places as “centres of the universe” ’ (494)—really general musings on the issue, leading into the more specific 498–500 ‘Asgard: Home of the gods’ and 500–505 ‘Gudme: the paradigmatic model of Asgard’. Disappointingly unconvincing in its details, just for lack of decent ev. perhaps, but I buy the concept. Cite with Sundqvist on same reading of Uppsala?

Heide, Eldar, 'Loki, the Vätte, and the Ash Lad: A Study Combining Old Scandinavian and Late Material', Viking and Medieval Scandinavia 7 (2011)

Heikkilä, Tuomas, ed., Kirjallinen kulttuuri keskiajan Suomessa, Historiallisia tutkimuksia 254, Suomalaisen kirjallisuuden seura: Helsinki 2010

Heinrich, Fritz (ed.), Ein mittelenglisches Medizinbuch (Halle, 1896) [XI.33.3]. 155 re elf cake (‘A’, BL. Add. MS 33996 f. 107a): For þe eluene · Take þe rote of gladene, 7 make | pouder þer of, 7 gyue þ seke boþe in hys metes | 7 in hys drynkes; take halue a sponeful at ones 7 | he schal be hool wyþ þynne nye dayes 7 nye | ny­tes, or be ded · |

B: Sloane MS. 3153 ‘For þe elf cake’

C: Royal MS. 17 AIII ‘For þe elf cake’

D: Sloane MS. 405 ‘For þe Eluen’

E: Royal MS 19674 ‘For hym that is Elf taken’

F: Hrl 1600 ‘For þe elfe cake gud medcyne’

Other variations too but not significant for present purposes. Other elements clearly similar also to material ed. by Henslow (man, Heinrich’s so much better)—e.g. ‘Pro sacro igne ·i· wildefuyre’ (79, f. 84a). Heinrich p. 90 (A f. 87b) ‘Pro tela in oculo’—no hint of elves. And a fair enough figurative usage. 207 (f. 129b) has ‘For þe pokkes’. No hint in text of little puck types, possibly different word? Oh, yeah, like pox. Wake up. Scan of titles of recipes shows no more stuff of relevant sort, tho’ usually in latin. No evil spirits etc tho’.

*Heinrichs, Anne, et. alXXXX (eds), Óláfs saga hins helga: Die ‘Legendarische Saga’ über Olaf den Heiligen (Hs. Delagard. saml. nr. 8ii) (Heidelberg: Winter, 1982)

Heinrichs, Anne, ‘Annat er várt eðli: The Type of the Prepatriarchal Woman in Old Norse Literature’, in Structures and Meaning in Old Norse Literature, ed. by John Lindow, Lars Lönnroth and Gerd Wolfgang Weber, (Odense: Odense University Press, 1986), pp. 110–40. [752:16.c.95.28] develops similarities between Laxdæla, Vọlsunga and Brynhildr.

**Heinrichs, Anne, Der Óláfs þáttr Geirstaðaálfs: Eine Variantenstudie (Heidelberg, 1989) [752:37.d.95.18]

Heinrichs, Anne, ‘The Search for Identity: A Problem After the Conversion’, Alvíssmál, 3 (1993), 43–62

Heinrichs, Anne, ‘Der liebeskranke Freyr, euhemeristisch entmythisiert’, Alvíssmál, 7 (1997), 3–36. Accessed from <XXXX>, XXXX.

Heizmann, Wilhelm,'Bildformel und Formelwort. Zu den laukaR[small cap]-Inschriften auf Goldbrakteaten der Völkerwanderungszeit', in Runor och runinskrifter: Föredrag vid Riksantikvarieämbetets och Vitterhetsakademiens symposium 8-11 september 1985, Kungl. Vitterhets Historie och Antikvitets Akademien: Konferenser, 15 (Stockholm: Almqvist & Wiksell, 1987), pp. 145-153. Over 80o C5-6 bracteates, over 160 with runes (145). 'Unter den über 800 bisher bekannten Goldbrakteaten aus dem 5. und 6. Jahrhundert finden sich über 160 mit Runen. Viele dieser Inschriften sind entweder gar nicht oder doch nur sehr schwer zu deuten. Die deutbaren Inschrifted enthalten neben Runenmeisterformeln zumeist eine Reihe von Wörtern, die häufiger wiederkehren. So etwa alu, ehwu, laukaR[small cap] oder [sic italics] laþu. Die Forschung spricht dabei von magischen Formeln bzw. Formelwörtern. Ich beschränke mich bei dieser Untersuchung auf die laukaR[small cap]- Inschriften. // Die verwandten Wörter in den verschiedenen germ. Sprachen, also etwa an. laukr, aengl. leac, ahd. louh usw., dienen im allgemeinen zur unspezifischen Bezeichnung einer Reihe von Pflanzen der Gattung Allium. In Anschluß an Wolfgang Krause faßt man die Bedeutung von runischem laukaR[small cap et seq.] 'auf Grund der konservierenden Wirkung des Lauchs' gewöhnlich als magische Formel zur Förderung von Gedeihen und Gesundheit auf. Dieser Deutung setzte Krause in seinen Beiträgen zur Runenforschung II noch ein vorsichtiges 'vielleicht' voran. In den Runneninschriften im älteren Futhark dagegen wird diese Deutung bereits also gesichert hingestellt und daraus in verschidene Darstellungen übernommen. // Dabei wird jedoch außer acht gelassen, daß diese Deutung ihr Entstehen nicht zuletzt einer sehr hypothetischen Interpretation der Fløkandinschrift verdankt. Magnus Olsen hatte in seiner zu Recht gerühmten Abhandlung über die Inschrift des Knochenmessers von Fløksund (um 350 n.Chr.), diese mit Hilfe des Völsa þáttr aus der Flateyjarbók (ca. 1387-95) zu deuten versucht. Diese Deutung ist hinreichend bekannt und soll deshalb hier icht wiederholt werden. Klaus Düwel hat im zweiten und leider noch immer ungedruckten Teil seiner Habilschrift diese Interpretation einer kritischen Betrachtung unterzogen und auf deren Schwachstellen und sehr hypothetischen Charakter hingewiesen. // Un die Bedeutung der laukaR-Inschriften auf Brakteaten zu ergründer, halte ich es methodisch für angebrachter, die Vorstellungen, die mit Lauch verbunden waren und sind, mit Hilfe des reichen komparatistischen Materials zu untersuchen. Eine kritische Sichtung der Sekundärliterature zu Lauch in [146] der an. Literatur etwa zeigte dabei, daß auch dort Lauch zumeist in Zusammenhang mit einer bestimmten Textstelle oder -Gruppe nur unter einem Aspekt behandelt wurde. Daraus resultierende, 'ortsgebundene' Eisichten in die Funktion und Bedeutung von Lauch, fanden dann jedoch auch in anderen Zusammenhängen also Interpretationsbasis Verwendung. In der Regel läuft dies daraus hinauf, daß für Lauch eine enge Beziehung zur Sexualität, Potenz und Fruchtbarkeit postuliert wird. Dies läßt such in der Tat durch eine Vielzahl von Beispielen aus allen Teilen der Welt und allen Zeiten belegen. Doch ist dies, und das möchte ich eben besonders ausdrücklich betonen, nur ein Aspekt von Lauch, der nich de Blick auf eine ganze Reihe anderer Möglichkeiten verstellen soll. Ich nenne etwa die allseitz bekannte Verwendung von Lauch als Apotropaion. Lauch, vor allem natürlich Knoblauch, gehört zu den apotropäischen Zauberpflanzen schlechthin. Wenn also Magnus Olsen den laukaR- Formeln auf den Brakteaten eine mehr allgemein reinigende und schützende Bedeutung zuspricht, dann lassen sich dafür gute Gründe geltend machen. Auch Moltke hatte ha, allerdings vom Amulettcharakter der Brakteaten her arumentierend, für laukaR eine Bedeutung 'værn', 'beskyttelse' angenommen. // Nicht außer acht gelassen werden darf ferner die große Rolle, welche Lauch in der Heilkunde spielt. Praktisch ale Angehörigen der Gattung Allium zählen zu den meist verweendeten Heilpflanzen. Eine Reihe von Belegen, gerade aus der an. Literatur, umgeben Lauch geradezu mit der Aura eines Panacee oder Lebenskrautes. Auch daraus ließe sich die Verwendung der laukaR- Formel erklären. // Die von Krause lediglich auf grund des Völsa þáttr angefürhrte konservierende Wirkung der Pflanze--auch diese Wirkung wäre noch weit besser, sogar exerimentell, zu belegen--ist somit nur eine Möglichkeit neben anderen. Zieht man nur eine davon in Betracht, so wird das Bedeutungspotential von laukaR in einseitiger und unbefriedigender Weise reduziert. Es werden dabei Möglichkeiten übergangen, die keineswegs mit zwingenden Argumenten auszuschließen sind. // Neben den breits genannten Erklärungsversuchen, möchte ich nun im folgenden auf eine weitere und sehr viel konkretere Deutung aufmerksam machen. Ausgangspunkt meiner Interpretation ist dabei die Entschlüsselung der Brakteatenbildformeln duch Karl Hauk. In zahlreichen Publikationen zur Brakteatenikonologie hat Hauck einen entscheidenden Beitrag zur Erforschung des geistes- und religionsgeschichtlichen Hintergrunds eines Raums und einer Epoche geleistet, über die wir sonst kaum unterrichtet sind. Der vorläufige Höhepunkt dieser Bemühungen steht mit der kritischen Ausgabe und Kommentierung des gesamten bisher bekannten Corous kurz bevor, ein Werk das in engen Zusammenarbeit mit Fachwissenschaftlern benachbarter Disziplinen entstanden ist. Daß dieses Unternehmen keineswegs frei von [147] Irrtümern bleiben konnte, liegt in der natur der Sache. Gerade in der Anfangsphase bewegte sich meines Erachtens die Haucksche Argumentation häufig in der Sphäre gewagter Spekulation, denn in der wissenschaftlicher Argumentation. // Es kann hier natürlich nicht angehen, die Thesen und Ergebnisse Haucks auch nur annähernd vorzustellen und zu behandeln. Ich muß deren Kenntnis voraussetzen und beschränke mich auf wenige einführende Bemerkungen. Den Weg zur Entschlüsselung der Bildformeln eröffnete die grundsätzliche Einsicht, daß die Brakteaten auf dem Boden einer spätantiken Kaisermedallions. Diese wurde zunächst imitiert, dann gemäß eigener Vorstellungen abgewandelt. Über die Bildkonventionen der Mittelmeerwelt, deren Verständnis literarische Zeugnisse wesentlich erleichtern, sowie Vorstufen und ältere Analogien wird ein Eindringe in die Bildwelt der Brakteaten ermöglicht. Mit Hilfe der erstmals auf Brakteaten angewendeten Methode der Kontext-Ikonographie konnte Hauck zeigen, daß der Bildinhalt der überwiegenden Zalh der Brakteaten (besonders der C-Brakteaten) auf eine Pferdeheilungsthematik zu beziehen ist. // Eines der überzeugndsten Beispiele dafür ist die Interpretation der engen Verbindung des mächtigen Hauptes, insbesondere aber dessen Mundes, mit dem Schulter- und Kammbereich des Brakteatenpferdes. Varianten zeigen dabei sogar den Atem und das Blasen des Hauptes. Dieser Dastellung entspricht im Bereich der Erfahrungsmedizin ein um 330 n. Chr. von Apsytus, dem Stabsveterinär Kaiser Konstntins des Großen beschriebenes Heilverfahren der subkutanen Luftinsufflation bei Schulterlähmung. Diese Behandlung wuder noch zu Beginn unseres Jahrhunderts angewandt. Auf Brakteaten, so die Interpretation Haucks, wird dieses rationale Heilverfahren dem Götterfürsten in seiner Rolle as göttlichen Zauberarzt selbst zugeschriben, dessen Atem freilich der chirurgischen Unterstützung nicht bedurfte. Zu einer Reihe weiterer Indizien, diefür die Deutung Haucks sprechen, daß auf den C-Brakteaten das Thema der Pferdeheilung behandelt wird, zählt fermer die Darstellung der heilenden Handauflegung oder der Fuß-heilt-Fußbehandlung. Die heilungsbedürftigkeit des Tieres fällt dabei dem Betrachter nuch unbedint auf den ersten Blick ins Auge, sie erschließt sch jedoch überzeugend mit Hilfe der von Hauck angefürhrten Beispiele, deren Interpretation in enger Zusammenarbeit mit der Veterinärmedizin erfolgte. // Das religionsphänomenologische Verständnis dieser Heilungsthematik wird erhellt durch exemplarische Zeugnisse der Christus- und der Asklepios-Religion zr Rolle des göttlichen Therapeuten und deus medicus.Vor diesem Hintergrund wird die Deutung zahlreicher Brakteatenbilder als rühmende Darstellung des seegermanischen Götterkönigs in seiner Arztfunktion [148] verständlich. In Analogie zum magischen Weltbild zahlreicher Zaubersprüche, wonach deren Wirksamkeit die Bezugnahme bzw. Reaktivierung eines heisgeschichtlichtlichen Präzedenzfalles bedingt und sicherstellt, wird die These vom Amulettcharakter der Brakteaten erst durch die Annahme sinnvoll, es handle sich dabei um die bildliche realisierung einer primordialen Heistat. Haucks Versuche, dieses Geschehen in den größeren Rahmen von Regenerationsmythen zu stellen, sollen hier unerörtert bleiben. // Die methodische Vorgehensweise Haucks läßt such auch für die Deutung der laukaR- Inschriften gewinnbringend anwenden. Wenn nämlich in ungebrochener Tradition von der Antike bis in under Jahrhundert hinein Zauber- und Segensspruüche im Bereich der Pferdeheilkunde Anwendung fanden, insbesondere im Bereich der Verletzungen und Erkrankungen der Extremitäten, so gilt das in gleicher Weise für rationale Heilverfahren.. Das Schwergewicht liegt hier auf der Anwendung von Heilmitteln aus dem mineral- Pflazen- und Tierreich. Unter den dabei verwendeten Heilpflanzen sind an vornehmster Stelle die verschiedenen Spezien der Gattung Allium zu nennen. Meine Belegbeispiele entstammen zum einen antiker Tradition, die sich von der Mulomedicina Chironis aus der 2. Hälfte des 4. Jahrhunderts n-Chr. oder den Rezeptsammlungen im Corpus Hippiatricorum Graecorum, einer im 9. Jhd. n.Chr. veranstalteten Sammlung von Autoren des 4. nachchristlichen Jahrhunderts, bis in die mittelalterliche lateinische Fachliteratur mit Vertretern wie Jordanus Rufus aus calabrien (13. Jhd.) und Laurentius Rusinus aus Rom (ca. 1320-70) erstreckt. Zum anderen aber einer Überlieferung, die ihren Ausangspunkt im Roßarzneibuch des Meisters Albrant nimmt. Das Werk dieses Mannes, den die ältesten Handschriften also Schmied und Marstaller Kaiser Friedrichs in Neapel (=Kaiser Friedrich II von Hohenstaufen) bezeichnen, ist eine Leistung von großer Eigenständigkeit. Ebenfalls wenig beeinflußt von den antiken Fachschriften der Mittelmeerländer zeigen sich die Empiriker der sog. Stallmeisterzeit. Aus der schier unübersehbaren Zahl dieser Roßarzneibücher habe ich 12 herangezogen. Sie alle bestätigen die überragende Bedeutung von Allium in der Bahandlung von praktisch allen Arten der Verletzung und Erkrankung der Pferdeextremitäten. Ich nenne in aller Kürze, ohne die verschiedenen Erkrankungen im Detail zu erklären: Rehe, Atrophie der Huflederhaut, entzündete Anchwellungam Elenbogengelenk, Geschwulst an den Füßen der Pferde, Mauke, Ausschuhen, Verbällung u.a.m. Auch ein Blick auf die Verwendung von Allium in der Humanmedizin bietet das gleiche Bild. Immer wieder werden gerade diese Entzündungen etc. herangezogen. // Im Lichte dieser Zeugnisse wird ees daher kaum mehr überraschen, daß mit einer Ausnahme ich alle eindeutig identifizierbaren laukaR- Inschriften auf Brakteaten wiederfinden, die das Thema der Pferdeheilung beinhalten. Der [149] Sonderfall des Skydstrup-B Brakteaten kann hier nicht behandelt werden, sonder soll einer gesonerten Untersuchung vorbehalten bleiben. Ich möchte betonen, daß es mir hier um eine bedeutungsgeschichtiche Erklärung der laukaR- Inschriften geht, nicht um eine runologisch-philologische Untersuchung. Aus diesem Grund lasse ich die ganz Problematik, welche Inschriften nun dieser Grupper zuzuordnen sind, völling außer Betracht. Es ist ja eine beannte Tatasche, daß die Brakteatenmeister nicht immer mit den Runenmeistern identisch sein mußten. In der kopialen Überlieferung kam es daher immer wieder zu Entstellungen bis hin zur Unifentifizierbarkeit der Inschriften. Diesem Prozess waren auch die laukaR- Formeln unterworfen. // Zu Recht stellt Hauck in seiner Einleitung zum Brakteatencorpus heraus, daß die Runen es ermöglichten, die Verknüpfung con Heilsbild und Schrift auf den antiken Vorbildern auch auf den Brakteaten beizubehalten. Während aber bisher die laukaR- Inschriften im Sunne von Gedeihen, Gesundheit, Fruchtbarkeit, als formelhafte Entsprechungen zu den υγίεια- σωτηρία- und salus-Formeln spätentiker Münzprägungen zu sehen wären, so würde mein Deutungsvorschlag zusätzlich die weit konkretere Dimension eines Bezugs zu tatsächlich geübten rationalen Heilverfahren eröffnen. Damit erwiese sich laukaR als ein Formelwort, das in engster Beziehung zum Inhalt des bildlich Dargestellten stünde und somit der ganzen Mehrschichtigkeit der Bildformel durchaus entspräche: im Bereich der Erfahrungsmedizin als rationales Äquivalent zur subkutanen Luftinsufflation und ähnlichen Praktiken, auf der Ebene der vom Gott geübten Zaubermedizin als magische Zauberpflanze par excellence. In all diesen Eigenschaften ist Lauch janusköpfig wie die Bildformel selbst. Dieses Formelwort hat seine Funktion auf den verschiedenen Ebenen im innern Geschehen des Darstellten und wirkt doch auch wie jener heilsgeschichtliche redenzfall nach außen in die reale Gegenwart der Amuletträger und verheißt ihnen Heilung bzw. Schutz und Unversehrheit.'. With catalogue of LaukaR inscrpitions 149-51, notes 151-53.

Heizmann, Wilhelm, ‘Lein(en) und Lauch in der Inschrift von Fløksand und im Vǫlsa þáttr’, in Germanische Religionsgeschichte: Quellen und Quellenproblemel, ed. by Heinrich Beck, Detlev Ellmers and Kurt Schier, Ergänzungsbände zum Reallexicon der Germanischen Altertumskunde, 5 (Berlin: de Gruyter, 1992), 365–95. App argues that Loki accuses Heimdallr of homosexual sex—but I didn’t find it.Can’t have been big or significant if there.

Heizmann, Wilhelm, Wörterbuch der Pflanzennamen im Altwestnordischen, Ergänzungsbände zum Reallexikon der Germanischen Altertumsunde, 7 (Berlin: de Gruyter, 1993). Wissenschaftliche Pflanzennamen list under allium: Allium L. laukr (+M,P); Allium cepa L. blóðlaukr 1 (M), cepa (+M), rauðr laukr (M), unian (+M);Allium porrum L. porlaukr (M), porrum (+M); Allium < L. allium (M), geirlaukr (+P), hvítr laukr (M), kloflaukr (M); Allium schoenoprasum L. graslaukr; Allium ursinum L. rams (not sure what the codes mean--M for medicinal?) (p. 308). Mainly just gives piles of attestations--doubtless potentially useful if I want to follow this up.
73 (poetic) blóðlaukr just says 'Blut-Lauch (SK)' (whatever SK is), citing only Sturl:Hák 23; 95 (medical) blóðlaukr: 3 MedMisc citations, 'Tak (brodd af) blóðlaukum' (my normalisation of 3 different spellings.
34-35: laukagarðr, lots of attestations; poetic forms (laukagrund, lauk-Frigg, laukjafn); also laukalǫgr + laukslǫgr (Med), laukastuldr, laukaþefr, lauksblað, laukshǫfuð. Defines laukr (with loads of attestations) as 1. Lauch, Komp. benlaukr P, blðlaukr (M, P), geirlaukr, graslaukr, halmlaukr, hjalmlaukr, húslaukr (M), hvítr laukr (M), ímunlaukr (P), ítrlaukr (P), kloflaukr (M), náttlaukr (M), porlaukr (M), randlaukr (P), rauðr laukr (M), sárlaukr (P), vínlaukr; 2. PBN 'Lauch' [poetic by-name I suspect, 'cos all the citations are poetic], 3. Schwert (Poet), 4. Mast (Poet), citing SNE 157.2^1/2: 'Her er skip kallat lavks hestr;lavkr heitir siglv tre'; Komp. remmilaukr (P). With other attestations for poetic material (but no new words or compounds I don't think) 78-79 (including the citation 'sem manni mær lauk eða ǫl bæri' Flokka af Sveinn Alfífuson c. 1034, Skj. 1A 423, B 393), and for medical 111.
NB 160 (Glossen) 'elleborus: Elleborus þung a donsku' (Med Misc 71.15).
More to be done with this when you have time.

Helga Birgisdóttir and María Bjarkadóttir, `Kreppa í íslenskum barnabókum: Hugleiðingar um barna- og unglingabækur ársins 2010', Spássían (spring 2010), 37--40. Flateyjarbréfunum eftir Kristjönu Friðbjörnsdóttur: 'Þar er kreppan aflið sem setur söguna af stað en bókin fjallar um Ólafíu Arndísi sem flytur ásamt fjölskyldu sinni til Flateyjar yfir sumartímann. Pabbi hennar er atvinnulaus en fær tímabundna vinnu í eynni. Bókin fjallar þó að öðru leyti lítíð um kreppu og meira um það hvernig er að vera á mörkum þess að vera barn og unglingur. Ólafía Arndís stendur við þröskuldinn að spennandi en samtímis ógnvekjandi heimi unglinga og í Flatey lærir hún að meta einfaldari hliða lífsins og fær næði til þess að velta hlutunum fyrir sér í fjarlægð frá borginni þar sem asi og stress ráða ríkjum' (Helga Birgisdóttir and María Bjarkadóttir 2010, 38). Helga Sigurðardóttir, Stúfur tróllastrákur: 'er samfélagsgagnrýnin ádeila á allt sem farið hefur úrskeiðis undanfarin ár, hvort sem um er að ræða neyslumenningu, samfélagið fyrir hrun, banka, peningabrask, verksmiðjubyggingar eða umhverfisstefnu stjórnvalda ásamt ýmsu öðru. Sagan fjallar um Stúf tröllastrák, betur þekktan sem einn af 13 jólasveinum, og upplifun hans af umheiminum þegar [39] hann ákveður að hefja skólagöngu í barnskóla. Einamanaleiki og gildi þess að eiga góða og samheldna fjölskyldu eru höfundi einnig hugleikin umfjöllunarefni og Stúfur er gáttaður og oft forviða yfir því hvernig mennirnir láta. Tröllin, álfarnir, og náttúran sem þau byggja eru sett fram sem skörp andstæða við það sem höfundur telur að þurfi að bæta í samfélaginu. Tröll og álfar eru göfugar verur sem við mennirnir ættum að hlusta á og draga lærdóm af lifnaðarháttum þeirra. Gallinn við bókina er sa að höfundur hefur viljað koma allt og mörgum atriðum á framfæri og lesandinn þreytist fljótt á því hve allt er erfitt og flókið. Tröllin eru ekkert sérstaklega heillandi persónur frekar en mennirnir og hefði mátt leggja meira í persónusköpun ef koma ætti á framfæri skilaboðum um ákjósanlega lifnaðarhætti' (Helga Birgisdóttir and María Bjarkadóttir 2010, 38-39).

Helga Þórey Jónsdóttir, 'Atomic Station', in ''World Film Locations: Reykjavík'', ed. by Jez Connolly and Caroline Whelan (Bristol: Intellect Books, 2012), pp. 14-15 (14).: 'the powerful imagery is coincidentally linked to the 2009 protests ... following the Icelandic banking crisis'. http://books.google.co.uk/books?hl=en&lr=&id=7em2oTwjfisC&

*Helm, Karl, ‘Der angelsächsische Flursegen’, Hessische Blätter für Volkskunde, 41 (1950), 34-44.

Helm, Rvdolfvs (ed.), Fabii Planciadis Fvlgentii V.C. opera (repr. Stuttgart, 1970) Originally 1898 it says, no place tho’. ‘Fabii Planciadis Fulgentii V. C. Expositio Sermonum Antiquorum ad Grammaticum Calcidium’ pp. 109–26. p. 118 (§22): ’22. [Quid sit catillatum.] Catillare dicitur per alienas domus infrontate girare, a catulis tractum, quod per omnes domus circuant; unde et Propertius: “Catillata geris uadimonia, puplicum prostibulum” et Plautus similiter ait: “Quin meam uxorem mittam catillatum?”

What a load of rubbish, don’t need that.

’52. [Quid sit alucinare.] Alucinare dicitur uana somniari tractum ab alucitas quos nos conopes dicimus, sicut [125] Petronius Arbiter ait: “Nam centum uernali me alucitae molestabant”.’ (124–25).

* Cecil G., Culture, Health and Illness (Butterworth-Heinemann 1990)

Helmerson, Erik, `Han sågar hemlandet Island', Dagens nyheter (21 March 2014), 5. 'När man läser Steinar Bragis böcker och talar med honom om hemlandet förefaller han vara den sämste isländske turistambassadören sedan Eyjafjallajökull. Han får Island att framstå som en nordlig bananrepublik med en liten skräpvaluta som snarast borde kastas i havet och ersättas med euron: "Vi lider av kulturell främlingsfientlighet och påminner om Ukraina, med en massa små Putin vars enda intresse är att hålla landet utanför EU" '.

Helms, Mary W., Ulysses’ Sail: An Ethnographic Odyssey of Power, Knowledge, and Geographical Distance (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1988). 22–30 e.g.s of spacial zones include both binary and trinary (latter with a frontier area before total outsideness); 30– discussion, including relationships with time, shapes and patterns of space etc. 49–65 ‘The Politics of Distance’. ‘In these paradigms and schemata [those discussed thitherto], distant places and things carry various moral connotations that assist members of society, living in the here and now, to understand their place and significance within a wider cosmic setting’ (49); blexer,ut also marks out useful resources etc. ‘In other words, concepts of geographical distance can signify more than the quaint expression of myth; places, peoples, creatures, and material items from the world “outside”—even the very concept of “distance”—can be used directly and concretely to regulate and operate the world “inside”. Cosmic ideologies, including concepts of geographical distance, can be put to use, as we well know, to identify and activate political intents and ideologies’ (49). The power in the ability to conquer distance by flight, superhuman speed etc. 61–64.

Helms, Mary W., Access to Origins: Affines, Ancestors and Aristocrats (Austin: University of Texas Press, 1998). ‘Access to Origins is the fourth volume in which I have sought to explore implications of the general hypothesis, first presented a number of years ago in Ancient Panama (1979), that in human cosmologies geographical distance corresponds with supernatural distance. This idea was initially suggested to me as I pondered the fact that indigenous peoples of pre-Columbian Panama, and especially the elites of the centralizes polities of chiefdoms characteristic of the isthmus, tangibly embodied the qualities of the celestial realm in skillfully crafted golden ornaments frequently obtained from neighbouring Columbia, a locale situated not celestially “up there” but geographically “out there”—yet apparently evocative, nonetheless, of the qualities associated with the cosmological realm “above”. // Intrigued by the theoretical possibilities suggested by investigation of geographically distant or outside locales in terms of cosmography rather [xii] than of ecology, as was then the fashion, I sought to further ground the initial hypoethesis in a broader, cross-cultural setting. Thus, in Ulysses’ Sail (1988), using ethnographic data from a wide range of societies, I argued that awareness of a geographically distant places, peoples, and things constitutes a valued type of esoteric knowledge often avidly sought and greatly prized as a politically useful resource by politically ambitious persons in both centralized and noncentralized polities’ (xi–xii).

*Hemmendorff, O., ‘Gravens bipersoner’, in Skalks Gæsteborg (Højberg: XXXX, 1985), pp. 13–20

*Hempel, Heinrich, ‘Matronenkult and germanischer Mutterglauben’, Germanisch-romanisch Monatsschrift, 27 (1939), 245–70; rev. ed. in Kleine Schriften, Heidelberg, Carl Winter 1966, pp. 13–37.

Henderson, George, Vision and Image in Early Christian England (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1999) H Avokok. 7 Henderson

*Henderson, J., ‘Pagan Anglo-Saxon Cemeteries: A Study of the Problems of Sexing by Grave Goods and Bones’, in Burial Archaeology: Current Methods and Developments, ed. by C. A. Roberts, F.Lee and J. Bintliff, British Archaeological Reports, British Series, 211 (Oxford: XXXX, 1989)

Henderson, Lizanne, and Edward J. Cowan, Scottish Fairy Belief: A History (East Linton: Tuckwell, 2001). ‘Although they conjure images of ethereal, and, in the minds of some, small creatures, the fairies of Scotland represent rather a colossal subject which tends to grow on acquaintance. We are conscious that we could have spent much more time in serch of them and that, as in the best fairy tales, all has not been quite resoved at the end’ (Acknowledgements, p. ix). C15-19 (1). ‘Belief is not the easiest of subjects to study. In approaching the mentalité, or mental world, of a past age it is important to shed anachronistic attitudes, to be aware that our predecessors’ response to events and perceptions was not the same as our own. Since there was no assumption of the natural as opposed to the supernatural, folk across the wide spectrum of society had no sense of the impossible…’ (3). Ballads and witchcraft trials ‘devlued and ignored’ (4, cf. 3-6). ‘A frustrating aspect of the trial records is the frequently abrupt termination of the transcript, presumably at the behest of the judges who were, in the main, only interested in recording certain types of evidence, namely those which they w

ished to hear. This is very noticeable in Isobel Gowdie’s trial (1662), where so often the copyist stopped writing down the details about the fairies, which she so amply provided’ (4). ‘Contrary to the view that the ballads “present no coherent record of either historical event or of [5] popular belief and custom at any one particular period”, we would claim that the ballads do preserve valuable material and that they do indeed provide an important articulation of folk belief’ (5)—but surely also an important means of inculcating it, which they don’t seem to develop here. ‘Researching Scottish fairy belief is rather like confronting a huge obscure painting which has been badly damaged and worn through time, great chunks totally obliterated and now completely irrecoverable, portions repainted by poorly skilled craftsmen, and other parts touched up by those who should have known better’ (5), well kind of, but maybe it always looked a lot like that. Not a lot like a picture. ‘In assembling this material, we have not worked toward some deconstructionist end, but rather have tried to synthesise the individual components, to reconstruct the whole essence [6] of fairy belief as a distinct phenomenon’ (5-6). Use of essence bothers me here… is this paradoxical, or nearly so? ‘…we feel some envy for Thomas Rhymer who enjoyed the assistance of the Fairy Queen to show him the road. In our case, however, we must find another way to Elfland’ (6)—ah, but your way is in fact the same way as everyone else always had to take.

‘There is, arguably, as much evidence of one kind or another for the activities of fairies from the fifteenth to the erly nineteenth centuries as there is for the existence of either the Picts, the Britons, the Angles or the Scots during the first milennium of Scottish history’ (8). Hmm, fun  Meaningful?

‘One of the functions of folklore is to maintain the stability of culture … People who have had a supernatural experience do not always interpret it as such themselves: “the social group that surrounds him [or her] may also participate in the interpretation”. Furthermore, while some people may be prone to phenomenal experiences, others may be better able to provide an explanation. Ultimately, “the group controls the experiences of its members”.’ (11). ‘That many people in pre-industrial Europe believed in fairies cannot be disputed on the basis of available evidence. They were a part of everyday life … as incontrovertable as the existence of God’ (12). Hmm, but that begs a question—cf. Evans, somewhere, about folks not going to Church except once a year for harvest festival. How important is God to them, really? p.30 n. 5 lots of refs re p. 12 on nature of belief from an academic’s p.o.v. ‘It has been observed that the supernatural is the least studied of all topics in the folklore discipline, a circumstance that can be attributed to an academic bias against supernatural beliefs on ideological grounds: namely, that such beliefs “arise from and are supported by various kinds of obvious error”. A great deal of scholarly work has taken this perspective, a “tradition of disbelief”, as its starting point, the adoption of an attitude in which both belief and disbelief are suspended and an external point of view taken. The approach adopted in this book is that which has been termed “experience-centres” and focuses not on whether a belief is true or untrue, but on the reasons such beliefs are held to be credible. It should be possible to believe one’s informants without believing their explanations. When dealing with the beliefs of people in the past there is the additional problem of trying to understand the world in which they lives, a world constantly subject to modification by the identical beliefs which we are trying to recover’ (12). Cites seelie < sellig. Sellig?! 14 re euphemisms where scary fairies are said to be good; 14-16 on other names and euphemisms. 16-17 on etymology of fairy. Woo, some weird OE forms knocking around here… ‘aelf meaning “supernatural” ’ (17). Down on fata etymology. Mainly from Williams 1991; see what he says… ‘The earliest recorded usage of ‘Elf’ is found in Bald’s Leechbook’ citing Jolly 1996, 145-67 (32, being n.14). What?! Does Jolly say this too? ‘The importance of Robert Kirk’s work to the understanding of the nature of fairy belief, and other supernatural phenomena, cannot be stressed enough since he greatly enhanced his account by drwing upon a range of informants and tradition-bearers’ (17). 19 re Tuatha Dé. Repeats usual stuff. 19-24 re demythologisation ideas/other learned interpretations. 24-30 re perpetual retreat of fairies. ‘The notion that the fairies were always slightly out of reach, slipping beyond human ken as they vanished into the mists of time, is exceedingly tenacious and of long duration. Almost every generation has apparently been convinced that fairy belief was stronger among its predecessors’ (24).

‘The crossing of some sort of water barrier is a common requirement for many travellers to the Otherworld, found time and time again in myths, legends, sagas, poetry and medieval romances’ (36) with Thomas the Rhymer as e.g. here. Cf. elfy water connection? ‘Thomas the Rhymer’s exotic excusrion’ unparalleled—the rest briefer, or just stumble on fairy world (37). ‘At her trial in 1588 Alison Peirson of Byrehill related that her uncle was “careit away with thame out ofmiddil-eird” ’ (37). ‘Following the lead of folklorist Peter Narváez on the subject of fairy belief in Newfoundland, van Gennep’s temporal usage of liminality can be supplanted with a spatial interpretation and applied to the fairy landscape of Scotland. Fairy belief, as with many folkloric traditions, established “proxemic boundaries on the geographical areas of purity, liminality, and danger”. It was in the area between known space (purity) and unknown space (danger) that encounters with the fairies frequently took place’ (39). A matter of elves moving from known space (cf. miðgarðr) into unknown (útgarðr). However, as we know from Hastrup this also maps onto otherworldly space in the real world; cf. interaction of Weland stuff with Berkshire landscape? And of course the role of fairies in demarkating physical boundaries maps onto demarcting social boundries etc. Relationship close and important, at least in later stuff. ‘There is a good deal of information with regard to the location of Elfland, although the details are fragmentary and confusing’ (39)—and it’s everywhere. Witch trial evidence heavy on hills (41).

Table 1, p. 40 (from Narváez ‘in slightly modified form’)

HEAVEN

Fairies

middle earth [sic]

PURITY LIMINAL SPACE DANGER

Known Space Hawthorn Unknown Space

Wells

Hills, etc.

Mortals

HELL

‘Elspeth Reoch, tried in Orkney in 1616, also first met the fairies at a lochside in the district of Lochaber. Bessie’s fairy contact, Thomas Reid, explained that they were the “gude wichtis that wer rydand in Middil-zerd”. alison Peirson also spoke of her uncle being taken from “middil-eird”. “Sir Cawline” is the man from Middle Earth who defeats the eldritch king, and cock-crow heralds another day in Middle Earth in “Sweet William’s Ghost”. In medieval parlance Middle Earth signified the actual world of mortals, between Heaven and Hell; it is only with the advent of Tolkien that Middle Earth is transformed into a truly magical place’ (42). Bloody hell. Check what –zerd etc. mean! Does ‘Middle Earth’ actually occur anywhere (check MED OED and Dictionary of the Older Scots Tongue)? But refs interesting otherwise. Norse influence?

‘What begins to emerge in discussing locality is that there are specific places connected with fairies—a supernatural landscape, an observation which has also been made regarding places associated with witches and their sabbats. The locations, when given in trial confessions, are almost always very specific. Placenames reflect mentalities as well as toponymic information. “Man takes and makes the outside world to be like himself, a sort of second self”, often, in Gaeldom, naming features of the landscape after parts of his own body. The suggestion that human beings define the world around them in relation to themselves could be greatly expanded. In a similar fashion placenames and landscapes can also be seen to incorporate and reflect the beliefs and ideas of people’ (42).

‘The demarcation of particular areas as fairy places may have served a larger social purpose: to protect community members from known, or presumed, dangers. To be alone on the hills, by water, in the forest, basically away from the home, the village or town, and away from the social group was to be imperilled’ (44); ‘However, in some instances that very separation, to be alone or individuated in some way, could led to increased power or status in the community through alleged communication with the Otherworld … To be alone, among fairy-infested places, was potentially empowering’ (44). Fairy world usually nice place (interesting that, what’s it about? Temptation?) 45-6; may disappear 46; dead sometimes seen there 46-7.

Most ev for fairies being human sized and even indistinguishable from humans (so Robert Kirk, e.g.) (47); but wee ones maybe variant trads as well as just antiquarianism/’scientific’ wotnots (47). ‘Scotland’s southern neighbour certainly seems to have had a smaller type of fairy. Two Anglo-Saxon books of remedies … might permit the speculation that Scottish elves almost certainly originated as English immigrants, albeit with a significant infusion from Scandinavia. Such works contain plentiful advice on how to defend oneself against the malignant attacks of these tiny creatures for whose existence there is no comparably early Scottish evidence’ (47). 48 re Gerald’s account of Elidyr and wee folk in Journey round wales; NB entry to fairy world much like in Thomas Rh (48) (also in the Marie de France thing tho’; v. unlike haugar for draugar tho’ cf. mountain with dead in in Eyrb. and Guðmundr of Glæsisvellir). Small stature inspired by pictures of demons as on Eadwine Psalter? And going back to things like Gregory the Great’s demon on a lettuce? (Somewhere in Kieckhefer he cites several examples of this, without realising the source—good example of popularity of idea. Where?). Also dweorg angle? Dvergar etc.? And development of imp etc. useful angle; changelings and cripples generally.

Keen on a ‘dwarf’ (droich(?-)) in poem c. 1500, ‘The Maner of the Crying of Ane Play’, Bannatyne MS. ‘Ane Littill Interlud of the Droichis Pairt of the Play’ (49). Sounds interesting. ‘Traditions about tiny creatures have a relatively long history. In the anonymous poem “King Berdok” written c. 1450, and in which, incidentally, the first recorded Scottish usage of the term “fairy” appears, [54] there is a line that states that Berdok lodged in summer in a cabbage stalk, but in winter in a cockleshell’ (53-54). ‘Another description of great interest is found in the 1662 witchcrft trial of Isobel Gowdie, who confessed to meeting with the fairies and visiting with them inside fairy hills on several occasions. She claimed to have witnessed the manufacture of elf arrowheads by “elf-boys” who were, in appearance, “little ones, hollow, and boss-baked”; they spoke “gowstie lyk”. Since “boss-baked” seems to mean diminutive and hump-backed, while “gowstie” conveys the sense of roughly or gruffly, it could be that Isobel was talking about a brownie or trow-like creature and hence, the closest thing so far found in the witch trials to the wee wee man of the ballads. // The ballad of “The wee Wee Man” is the only example in the Child ballad corpus of small fairies … As described, he recalls a creature similar to the dwarf, gnome or kobold found in Teutonic and Scandinavian traditions’ (55).

‘Strength is a characteristic of several fairies apart from the wee wee man. For example, the fairy lover in “Hind Etin” casually ripped a tree out by the roots and then proceeded to carve out a cave “monie fathoms deep” ’ (57). Reminiscent of La3amon. 59-61 more on fairies as the dead. In Bessie Dunlop’s trial. ‘Anxiety about death is universal, but perhaps it had a particular sting in Reformation Scotland, where, while the good and the godly were predestined for salvation, there must have been legions of less fortunate and less confident souls who had severe doubts about what awaited them in the afterlife. For some the home of the fairies, imperfect though it was, provided some sort of an alternative, just as the very idea od Fairyland permitted some assuagement of the grief attending the death of a loved one’ (61).

‘Although the fairies had special days and times which they favoured for glamouring ill-fated humans, they could strike at any time and, if they were so minded, there was very little one could do to avoid these persistent and capricious creatures’ (74). ‘Activities such as eating, drinking, speaking, or sleeping in a taboo place were all common mistakes made by luckless mortals’ (75). ‘ “King Orfeo” [sic] lost his wife to the fairies when she was struck by a fairy dart: “For da king o Ferrie we his daert/Has pierced your lady to da hert”.’ (77). Hmm, Cupid angle here too? ‘There are numerous references within the witch trials to animals, especially cattle and horses, being “shot to dead”, a term which implies a sudden attack of illness or death as a result of a fairy dart. Witches were often implicated for directing these particular assaults, with or without the assistance of the fairies. Isobell Young of Eastbarns (1629), Katharine Oswald in Niddry (1629), Alison Nisbett from Hilton, Berwickshire (1632), John burgh at Fossoway (1643), and Jane Craig in Tranent (1649) were all alleged to have the ability to cast elfin darts’ (77) [Aliesone Nisbett only has a ‘shot to deid’ and ‘ane suddane shote’ thing]. However: ‘Protective charms against elf-shot were occasionally recorded, for example in the testimony of Bartie (Barbara) Paterson in 1607, who sought to defend against specialist types of shot aimed at the portals of buildings or at different parts of the body: // And for using of thir charmes following, for charmeing of cattell; “I charme thé for arrow-schot, for dor-schot [door-shot], for wondo-schot [window-shot], for ey-schot, for tung-schote, for lever-schote [liver-shot], for lung-schote, for hert-schot, all the maist, in the name of the Father, the Sone and Haly Gaist. Amen”. // Bartie had no problem combining magic and religion’ (78). Cool, but no elves that I see there, so how accurate is the earlier statement? Also cites Jonet Morrison on ‘elf-shot’, but quotation has only ‘shott’ (78-9). Check out these and other refs here. Childbearing connections 79-80 v. like Scandinavia etc. Talents bestowed by fairies 83-4. ‘Isobel Strathquin, tried alongside her daughter in 1597, was similarly obliged to sleep with an “elf man” in order to acquire her occult powers’ (84). 94-100 changelings.

‘The objectives of the reformers were undoubedly well-intended and sincerely inspired, but by reinventing a world where there could only be the forces of good, upheld by God, and the forces of evil, controlled by the Devil, they destroyed the grey area once inhabited by fairies, ghosts, and witches, and relegated them all to the dominion of Satan, whose power appeared to be growing ever stronger. The new “moralized universe” placed more and more responsibility on the shoulders of the individual’ (116). ‘Fairies and ghosts were not the only entities subjected to the redefining process. Elsewhere in Europe werewolves, for instance, underwent a similar metamorphosis. Portrayed in medieval texts and cherished in folk tradition as beneficent figures who actually fought [118] the legions of Hell on behalf of their communities [really? says who?], it was not until the mid-fifteenth century that the benign nature of the werewolf was obliterated to be usurped by the vicious and terrible evil-doer intent upon devouring livestock and children; at approximately the same time the hostile image of the witch crystallised’ (117-18) [Citing Ginzberg, The Night Battles, 28-32].

Of great interest re A-S material how thoroughly integrated are ‘fairies’ and witchcraft in the Scottish witch trials. Artefact of the historical analysis? ‘Within the trial evidence it is possible to recognise “a more complex statification”, in which the words of the accused are covered by a “thin diabolical crust”.’ (118, citing Ginzberg, Ecstasies, 97). ‘It was long ago pointed out that because christianity would accept only two categories of spirits, angels and devils, and as fairies belonged to neither, “the fulminations of the curch were, therefore, early directed against those who consulted or consorted with the Fairies”. However, during the fourteenth century, at around the same time as some notion of the witches’ Sabbat began to take shape, toleration of a belief in creatures which seemed to fit into neither category lessened, and they were increasingly viewed by officialdom with fear and suspicion. For example, among the charges laid upon Joan of Arc, burned for heresy and sorcery in 1431, was familiarity with the fairy folk’ (127, wow I wonder what the Joan of Arc bit’s about? Bog standard demon stuff misrepresented?). ‘The reformers, faced with the task of eradicating all vestiges of competing pagan beliefs, were confronted with a daunting task … Traditions about fairies had effectively blended christian elements, leaving the fairies in a morally ambiguous position. The rise of the demonic, and the subsequent demonisation of the fairies, can be traced in Scotland through the witch trials, but it can also be shown to predate the ing’s visit to Denmark. The association between fairies and the Devil was stirring among some of the authorities at least twenty years erlier and was probably a precondition which allowed for the full crystallisation of this demonic connection so soon after James’s return’ (127). Hmm, how will this fit with my stuff?

127-9 re trial of Jonet Boyman 1572, ‘one of the richest accounts hitherto uncovered for both fairy belief and charming, suggesting an intriguing tradition which associated, in some way, the fairies with the legendary King Arthur’ (127). 128 says of a great company of women causing trouble at a house, sounds rather like wið fær. 129-30 re Bessie Dunlop 1576. Apparently no ev of maleficium, merely of having ‘anything to do with the fairies’ (129) enough to kill her. Annoying tendency here to use ‘fairy’ and obscure the words used in the primary sources. ‘It is unclear, in the … confession of Andro Man, to what extent the extraordinary mingling of fairy and witch beliefs was a product of Andro’s ideas or those of his judges’; re quotation ‘thay com to the Binhill, and Binlocht, quhair thay use commonlie to convene, and ... all thay quha convenis with thame kissis Christsonday and the Quene of <B>Elphenis</B> airss’, ‘But the description of the fairy revels that he attended on Halloween are strikingly similar to a witches’ Sabbat’ (133). ‘The intermingling of fairies and witches is also found in belief traditions about the goddess, clearly derived from the world of learning’ (135); William Hay, 1564, has ‘Diana the queen of the fairies’, but looks like original is in Latin, so what does he really say? James VI, ‘That fourth kinde of spirites, which by Gentiles was called Diana, and her wandring court, and amongst us was called the Phairie’ (135), cite 135-6 re these analogues to fasciculus morum; doesn’t Keith have some later comparanda too?

‘The words ‘fairy’ and ‘elf’ have been used interchangeably in Scotland. The earliest recorded use of ‘fairy’ appears in an anonymous poem entitled “King Berdok” written c. 1450; “elf” is first noted in the poetry of Robert Henryson’ (152) app. in Orpheus.

p. 217 table of ‘All [Scottish] witch trials so far found that contain references to fairy belief’

Re Issobel Gowdie: ‘The bias shown, even by relatively recent scholarship, toward the witch trial evidence is also problematic. Commenting on the case of Bessie Dunlop, Robert Chambers opined, ‘the modern student of insanity can have no difficulty with this case: it is simply one of hallucination, the consequence of diseased conditions’. The confession of Isobel Gowdie is frequently dismissed as the product of insanity. Sir Walter Scott commented, ‘it only remains to suppose that this wretched creature [Isobel] was under the dominion of some peculiar species of lunacy’. J. A MacCulloch accused Isobel of ‘delusions and erotic ravings’. Even Katharine Briggs’ response to this case was highly prejudicial: ‘these, strange, mad outpourings at least throw some light on the fairy beliefs held by the peasantry of Scotland in the seventeenth century’ (4). [Briggs, The Vanishing People, 1978, 25]. 37-8 analogues re Horse and Hattock. ‘The presence of large bulls bellowing and roaring was an indication of much wealth and status so far as members of an agricultural community were concerned’ (46). ‘Isobel was one of those … who not only conveyed information, in David Buchan’s model, about “the world around” but also about “the world around that” ’ (67)—positive view of Isobel as a source. 77 seems to accepts Isobel re elf-shot; ‘Isobel Gowdie interspersed fairy and diabolical beliefs in her confessions of 1662 to a degree that is unrivalled in any other known witch trial. Though Isobel came from Auldearn in the North of Scotland, an area slow to experience the full force of the presbyterian system, her confession can surely be seen as indicative of the extent to which such phenomena had become assimilated into folk culture. It can certainly be taken as evidence of the tenacity of fairy traditions within Scotland, still clinging on despute almost a century of intensive persecution’ (134).

*Henderson, Lizanne (ed.), ‘Fantasticall Ymaginatiounis’: The Supernatural in Scottish Culture (East Linton, 2002) [not in GUL!!]

Geraldine Heng, 'The Invention of Race in the European Middle Ages, I: Race Studies, Modernity, and the Middle Ages', Literature Compass, 8.5 (2011), 258–74 [available online: https://DOI 10.1111/j.1741-4113.2011.00790.x]

Geraldine Heng, 'The Invention of Race in the European Middle Ages, II: Locations of Medieval Race', Literature Compass, 8.5 (2011), 275–93 [available online: https://DOI: 10.1111/j.1741-4113.2011.00795.x]

*Hennessy, W. Annals of Loch Ce´. A Chronicle of Irish Affairs from A.D. 1014 to A.D. 1590. Translated by William M.

Hennessy. 2 vols. London: Longmans, 1871. ‘Cheese signified women and, by extension, it signified sex. An Irish chieftain nicknamed Cheese-Guzzler O’Ruairc died of a “surfeit of sex” in 1204; his fatal partner was a real woman, but the episode bears overtones of the night witch (Annals of Loch Ce´ 1871, 1232–3).’ Can’t say I’m convinced.

Hennessy, W. M., ‘The Ancient Irish Goddess of War’, Revue Celtique, 1 (1870–72), 27–57. ‘I have referred to Neman, Macha, and Morrigu, as the so called sisters of the Badb. Properly speaking, however, the name Badb seems to have been the distinctive title of the mythological beings supposed to rule over battle and carnage. M. Pictet feels a difficulty in deciding whether there were three such beings, or whether Neman, Macha, and Morrigu are only different names for the same goddess; but after a careful examination of the subject I am inclined to believe that these names represent three different characters, the attributes of Neman being those of a being who confounded her victims with madness, whilst Morrigu incited to deeds of valour, or planned strife and battle, and Macha revelled amidst the bodies of the slain’ (14). On basis of stuff here this seems OK but over-systematised. ‘In the enumeration of the birds and demons that assembled to gloat over the slaughter about to ensue from the clash of the combatants at the battle of Clontarf, the badb is assigned the first place. The description is truly terrbile, and affords a painful picture of the popular superstition at the time. ‘Ro erig em badb discir, dian, denmnetach, dasachtach, dúr, duabsech, detcengtach, cruiad, croda, cosaitech, co bai ic scredách ar luamain os a cennaib. Ro eirgetar am bananaig, ocus boccanaig, ocus geliti glinni, ocus amati adgaill, ocus siabra, ocus seneoin, ocus demna admilti aeoir ocus firmaminti, ocus siabarsluag debil demnach, co mbatar a comgresacht ocus i commorad aig ocus irgaili leo.’ / ‘There arose a wild, impretuous, precipitate, mad, inexorable, furious, dark, lacerating, merciless, combative, contentious badb, which was shrieking and fluttering over their heads. And there arose also the satyrs, and sprites, and the maniacs of the valleys, and the witches, and goblins, and owls, and destroying demons of the air and firmament, and [40] the demonaic phantom host; and they were inciting and sustaining valour and battle with them.’—‘Cogadh Gaedhel re Gallaibh,’ Todd’s ed. p. 174. vbl similarities from Táin quoted 41-3. ‘Of the effects of this fear inspired by the Badb was geltacht or lunacy, which, according to the popular notion, made its victims so light that they flew through the air like birds’, with various egs (including Suibne of course) (43). Otherwise most stuff from Táin, read it. 55-7 appendix by C. Lottner on how it’s a bit like Valkyrie stuff, reckons it goes back to dead early times. NB that this stuff would be tolerably paralleled by the 9 hags of Gloucester who appear in Peredur and whom I don’t imagine Chrétien includes: 232, 256-7 in Pantz’s trans.

Henning, Sam. (ed.), Siælinna thrøst: første delin aff the bokinne som kallas siælinna thrøst, Samlingar utgivna av Svenska Fornskift-Sällskapet, 59 (Uppsala: Almqvist & Wiksell, 1954)

Henningsen, Gustav, ‘ “The Ladies from Outside”: An Archaic Pattern of the Witches’ Sabbath’, in Early Modern European Witchcraft: Centres and Peripheries, ed. by Bengt Ankarloo and Gustav Henningsen (Oxford, 1990), pp. 191-215. ‘The picture of the Sicilian fairy cult painted by the Inquisition’s trial records displays a flourishing tradition, with variations from district to district … The fairies are participants in a group of seven (six or five) women, and one of them is “The Queen of the Fairies” (Reina de las Hadas). She is also known as ‘La Matrona’, ‘La Maesta’, ‘The Greek Lady’ (Le Señora Griega), ‘Señora Gracia’, ‘Doña [196] Inguanta’, ‘Mandatta’, ‘Doña Zabella’, or ‘The Wise Sybil’ (La Sabia Sibila)’ (195-6) cf. Finns as elves. May be black or white but have weird feet (196). ‘Everything considered, we can see that poor Sicilians talked endlessly among themselves about the fairies, and that those of the who were themselves donas de fuera gladly described their wonderful adventures, even when this might be dangerous. The large numbers of informers and witnesses in the donas cases speak for themselves: there could be ten, twenty, or thirty witnesses against one accused person’ (198). Seem all to be poor and mostly women (8 men out of 65 tried), despite claims that both involved and nobles too. Usually professional healers; the dreaming bit extends their powers specifically to helping out with illnesses caused by fairies (200) (humans and animals); egs. 200- Ritual of giving food and hospitality to donas paralleled by Perhta stuff, Burchard (not mentioned), modern Gk. folklore customs (201, incl. n. 8). 1384-90 Milan Inquisition two women confess that they go out thurs nights with Signora Oriente 203-4. Instructed in healing etc. (204). With refs. ‘I believe that the reason for the lack of success in diabolizing the Sicilian donas de fuera and bringing on them the same fate as that of their charismatic colleagues in Friuli, the lack of success in involving the devil in the poor Sicilians’ deam world and giving him a permanent place there, is connected with the fact I have mentioned earlier, that no notions of wicked and mischief-making witches existed in Sicily. In Friuli, popular tradition included both “good” witches (benandante) and “bad” witches (stregoni), while the Sicilians did not hold a similar dualistic system of belief. As we have seen, their donas de fuera complex was ambivalent: fairies and “witches” could exercise both good and ill, although the harm they caused was seldom so bad that it could not be repaired through an expiation ritual. This is the reason for Sicily presumably having retained a particularly archaic form of witch-belief’ (206). Accepts early tradition of ‘sabbath’ as meeting in dream world and vision, but not in reality, contra Murray. 207-15 appendix on similarities with E. European stuff. Regino 214-15; incorporated into Corpus Juris Canonici by Gratian c.1140. ‘In view of all that has been presented above, this old text suddenly becomes transparent, so that we may look through the theological veil and capture a popular cult in its undiabolized form’ (214).

*Henriksson, Göran, Arkeoastronomi i Sverige (Uppsala, 1994). Gräslund 2000, 66 notes that ‘Recent research has pointed out a probable mistake in the translation and interpretation of Adam’s text. Post novem annos is normally translated ‘every ninth year’. However, in the way the Scandinavians counted, it was most probably every eighth year, as they had no zero, but counted the first year from its first day and not, like us, after it was finished’; moreover, every ninth year means that a given point in the moon’sphases will fluctuate by +/– 14 days, whereas every 8 years it’s only +/– 1.5 (66). Citing Henriksson 1994, 3ff.

Henry, P. L., ‘The Goblin Group’, Études celtiques, 8 (1959), 404-16. OEd bug as from Welsh; GPC bwg as loan from ME! (404). Rather old-fashioned and elliptical and sopmetimes fanciful semantic analysis of bug, bogle, bogey etc. from Celtic p.o.v. Dicusses púca, doesn’t give etymology tho’ notes OE, ME, ON cognates (411) Not convinced by mad idea by F. Kluge that word entered Gothic from name of St. Phokas (411-12) (might be worth citing tho’? Deutsche Sprachgeschichte, Leipzig, 1920, 182). Púca generally 411-13. Nothing of interest to say tho’.

Henslow, G. (ed.), Medical Works of the Fourteenth Century (London, 1899) [LE.14.134]. Preface (roman numbers) by Walter W. Skeat. Refers to *Lanfrank, Science of Cirurgie, EETS 1894 (iii-iv). Based on MS in his own (ie. Skeat’s, presumably) possession from library of J. Johnstone, Esq. (iv) (yay.) (‘A’) but presumably MED stencil will sort this out. Ref. also to 3 others, described in main body of text before each is given. ‘A certain proportion of the Recipies are common to many MSS. Sometimes they are almost verbally alike, excepting it may be in spelling, while in others the actual wording is different, couple with one or more different drugs … In transcribing receipts from the MSS. B, C, and D, I have as rule avoided repeating those which occur in my MS. [A].’ (iv, square brackets his. Raises questions over ‘I’ here—did Skeat transcribe? Or did he just put his name to Henslow’s preface?! Eða hvað?). Re A: ‘The English Medical Recipes, of which this book contains the transcript, commence on the 159th page and continue to the 211th, occasional recipes in Latin being intercalated’ (v). A pre 1400, with later stuff (memorandum mentioning 1464 p. 257), 1 scribe for English bit (x). Midland exemplar with southernisms (x-xi), lang generally x-xv. Index, sv. elf- lists only ‘elf-cake’ p. 89. 1-28 scanned for elves etc. Index read for relevant material. Very few charms, according to index.

MS B= BL Harley 2378. MS now contains medical stuff C9-18 (apparently) (74). C. 50 eng and 60 Lat from C14.

‘P. 46. For a man or womman that is blisted with wikkede spiritis to do away the ache and abate the swellyng.—Take an henne ey and roste it hard and do away the ­elke and take the whyte and do it in-to a brasyn morter, and do þer-to a quartron of an vnce of ceperose [n. 3: ‘For “coperose”’] and grynd hem wel to-gedere, that it be as smal as an oynement and anoynte ther-with the seke the face or wher it be, and that schal cessen the ache and don awey the swellyng. For it is kynde ther-for, and whanne it is ner hool, anoynte the seke with a litil popilion and that schal supple the skyne and make it esy.

P. 47. For the elf cake. [n. 4: ‘Perhaps “elf take;” meaning obscure’]—Take þe rote of gladene and make poudre ther-of and ­if the weke ther-of bothen in is metis and in his drynkis halfe a sponful at-tones and he schal en hol wit-Inne .ix. dayes and ix nightis, ­if he schal lyue.’ (89). Latter sound very like the OE stuff, dunnit? That closing phrase. Not common in the material here, so worth checking up how unusual it is and OE sources? How do elves as causing disease fit in with ear-ache as due to worms, earwigs, etc. (likewisse worms in eye etc.)? Likewise ‘evils’ frequently enough mentioned—not unreasonable. Elves as personification thereof, no more? 84 (MS B, p. 37) ‘For the fyere of helle’, likewise D, Sloane 521, ‘For þe wyilde fyir þat men calle þe fyir of helle’ (140, also ff. to 141; MS pp. 247a, 249a). Wonder what this is? And surely a similar ball-park?

MS C, Sloane 2584. 123–131. Does this have the 2584 charm of Olsan in? D Sloane 521.

Herbert, Máire, ‘Transmutations of an Irish Goddess’, in The Concept of the Goddess, ed. by Sandra Billington and Miranda Green (London: Routledge, 1996), pp. 141–51. Mórrígan, Badb and Macha as sisters in LG a late thing (142). She reckons ev. points to Mórrígan and Badb being assoc., but Macha separate—saved for another time (142). gOES WITH MÓR- ‘great’ (142). Mórrígan often in place anmes (143). Cites Stokes 1892 470–71 re otherworld bride tale in Dindshenchas (Folk-Lore, 3). Narrative ev. for M and Badb surveyed 144–48 ‘The black bird (badhbh), the scald-crow which hovered over the field of battle, is shown to be the most characteristic form in which the Mórrígan might appear to a warrior’ (145). Controlling destinies & tutelary 145–148. This helps present an antipathetic aspect, which certain clerics go with 147– ‘Classical epic also became an influence on the representation of the Irish supernatural feamle. The translation into Irish of Latin works such as the Aeneid, the Thebaid of Statius, and Lucan’s Pharsalia appear to date from about the tenth century onwards. In the process, the translators borrow Irish terminology for use in reference to female figures. Thus, mórrígan in the demoted sense of “witch” or “demon” is used to refer to Jocasta [ref]. The term badhbh or badbh [sic] chatha is interchaneable with fúir (Fury), and bandea (goddess) in connection with Tesiphone’ (148). ‘The portrayal in contemporary classical translations of scheming, strife-causing goddesses, vengeful Furies and terror-inducing female demons, designated by terms used of Irish supernatural females, undoubtedly in turn influenced representations in vernacular Irish narrative from about the tenth century onwards’ (148). Doesn’t buy the Valk thing ‘cos the Ir. ev doesn’t really fit (149). ‘All our Irish sources have indicated, however, that the early Irish Mórrígan was neither valkyrie nor war-goddess but, rather, a multi-aspected deity whose very name implies a role of power and guardianship’ (149).

Hermann Pálsson, 'The Use of Latin Proverbs and Sententiae in the Riddarasogur[sic!]', in Les Sagas de Chevaliers (Riddarasögur): Actes de la V^e Conférence Internationale sur les Sagas Présentés par Régis Boyer (Toulon. Juillet 1982), XXXXXno editor given--Boyer?XXXXX, Serie Civilisations, 10 (no place etc. that I can see XXXXX), pp. 385-91.

Hermann Pálsson, Keltar á Íslandi ([Reykjavík:] Háskólaútgáfan, 1996). XXXXstyle. 128–38 ‘Hið írska man’ brief survey of Irish dudes in sagas by the look of it. ‘Fjölkynngi’ 139–49. 139–41 seems to be re Irish SS lives infl. on sagas (or at least shared stories). ‘Íslensk fjölkynngi á ekki einungis rætur að rekja til norrænna manna í austri heldur einnig til Sama í landnorðri og Íra í landsuðri; ýmsir galdramenn hér fyrr á öldum komu af Suðureyjum. Um samískt galdrafólk verður fjallað á öðrum vettvangi en nú skal minnast á fjöllkynngi sem íslensk fornrit eigna Írum og Suðureyingum ogönnor kynleg brögð sem virðast hafa verið stunduð með forfeðrum okkar á sínum tíma’ (139). app. 25–26 argues that jọtnar reflect the Saami (Lindow 2003, 103 n).

*Hermann Pálsson, Völuspá: The Sybil’s Prophecy (Edinburgh: Lockharton Press, 1996)

Hermann Pálsson, Úr landnorðri: Samar og ystu rætur íslenskrar menningar, Studia Islandica, 54 (Reykjavík: Bókmenntafræðistofnun Háskóla Íslands, 1997). This is supposed to be in pääk. but I can’t order it. ‘it is clear from documentary evidence that various terms with the broad sense “a giant” were used abusively about the Sami people. This applies not only to the nouns mentioned above [half-troll, -risi] but also to jötunn and þurs. What is interesting about the noun jötunn in particular is that its Low German cognate eteninne meant “a witch”, and there are good reasons to assume that jötunn denoted “a wizard, sorcerer” as well as “a giant” .’ (164, in the English summary. Ooh! cf. OE þyrs; real text 18–20). ‘Thorir “the Troll-Burster” who was reared on Andøy in Nordland must have shown hostility, either to the Sami people or else to [170] trolls; his nickname, thursasprengir, is reminiscent of the legendary Ögn álfasprengir in Heiðreks saga’ (169–70), hmm, interesting. Real text 77–78; ‘Viðurnefni óris bendir til fjölkynngi, hvort sem orðið þurs er notað í merkingunni “Sami” (eins og orðin risi, jötunn, bergrisi, tröll) ella um þá tröllvöxnu gaura sem svo eru oft kallaðir. Í Heiðreks sögu er minnst á Ögn álfasprengi, sem Hergrímur hálftröll nam úr Jötunheimum. Væntanlega hefur Ögn reynst álfum jafn skæð og Þórir þursum’ (78). ch. 5 on witchcraft and prohpecy; 6 on metamorphoses, 7 on more witchcraft; 8 on nocturnal rituals but summary suggests less saami-centred; 9 on learning witchcraft

*Hermann, John P., Allegories of War: Language and Violence in Old English Poetry (Ann Arbor, MI, 1989), 39-42 re widespreadness of arrows of temptation theme (according to Andy p. 51).

Herren, Michael W., ‘Hiberno-Latin Lexical Sources of Harley 3376, a Latin-Old English Glossary’, in Words, Texts and Manuscripts: Studies in Anglo-Saxon Culture Presented to Helmut Gneuss on the Occasion of his Sixty-Fifth Birthday, ed. by Michael Korhammer (Cambridge, 1992), pp. 371-79. Cites *J. D. Pfeifer Old English Glosses in the Épinal-Erfurt Glossary (Oxford, 1974), xxxv-vi re these as sources for Harley 3376. ‘Harley is no mere conflation of early glossaries. At some time between the eighth and ninth-century glossaries and Harley someone re-read the primary texts that are excerpted in the older glossaries and added many new entries subsequently (or contemporaneously?) taken up in Harley’ (371, cf. Oliphant 1966, p. 12). ‘I think that there are enough sufficiently sure examples here to show that the Harley glossator—or an intermediate glossator standing between Corpus and Harley—gathered glossae collectae from the A-Text of the Hisperica Famina, from the Lorica of Laidcenn, and from the hisperic poems Rubisca and Adelphus Adelpha Meter, and from some other Celtic-Latin texts as well. This shows that these texts were of continuing interest in Wales or West Britain up to the early eleventh century. The Harley Glossary also provides evidence of an English tradition of the A-Text of the Hisperica Famina glossed in Old English’ (379).

Herren, Michael W., ‘The Transmission and Reception of Graeco-Roman Mythology in Anglo-Saxon England, 670-800’, Anglo-Saxon England, 27 (1998), 87–103. early (pre-700) availability of Isidore Etymologiae 90-91. Servius’s commentary on Virgil in ASE by c. 700—indeed best ev. for him before Carolingian Renaissance is Insular (91). Orosius’s Historia aduersus paganos bk 1 available early (glossed in Ép-Erf) 92; De civitate Dei list of literary monsters XVI.8 known to Aldhelm and other early ev (92). Aldhelm’s ‘importance for the transmission of Graeco-Roman mythology has not been sufficiently recognized, although his contribution in this area was truly significant’ (93). Aldhelm’s use of classical stuff in enigmata 94-97. Evidence of glossaries 97-101 ‘The mysterious haehtisse, yet another gloss to Eumenides, identified by Lindsay as Old English, is illuminated by an entry in the Leiden Glossary: ‘Eumenides filiae noctis. i. hegitissae’, the last being a corruption of Hecates, ‘of Hecate’. What looks like an Old English gloss is, apparently, a corrupt Graeco-Latin form, presupposing an unattested *Hecatissa’ (99). Hmm. ‘Perhaps of greatest interest is the fact that the Anglo-Saxons of the late seventh century were conscious of the relation betwween the gods and prodigies of Graeco-Roman mythology and the divinities and wondrous beings of their native religion and worked out a table of correspondences between the two mythological systems’ (103). ‘The last quarter of the seventh century and, perhaps, the opening decades of the eighth might be looked upon as a sort of mini-renaissance of classical scholarship in Anglo-Saxon England’ (102). Identifying the sources of the ælfa and ælfen glosses gives us a fairly clear idea of how the glossators must have understood their lemmata and also limits the potential problem of not knowing whether a glossator has understood the meaning of his text correctly (for examples of some failures here, see Herren 1998, 87, 98–101).

Herren, Michael W., ‘Literary and Glossarial Evidence for the Study of Classical Mythology in Ireland A.D. 600–800’, in Text and Gloss: Studies in Insular LEarning and Literature Presented to Joseph Donovan Pheifer, ed. by Helen Conrad O’Brian, Anne Marie D’Arcy and John Scattergood (Dublin, 1999), pp. 49–67. Alas, no nymphs. Didn’t really read it properly.

Herrtage, Sidney J. H. (ed.), Catholicon Anglicarum: An English-Latin Wordbook, Dated 1483, Early English Text Society, 75 (London, 1881). Preface by Henry B. Weatley, vii-xii, useful. MS referred to only as Lord Monson’s. Closely related to BL. Add. MS. 15562, considered older p. ix (Herrtage goes for c. 1475 for BL MS; Way had 1450, xv; halliwel at 1540 xvi, but clearly the EETS guys don’t buy this). Common ancestor(s) ix. c. 8000 words. Much talk of ‘Mr. Way’ and his ed. of *Promptorium (Camden Soc., 1843-65), c. 12000 words, several MSS & early prints, from c. 1440. ‘The compiler [of the Catholicon] frequently distinguishes with great acumen between the various shades of meaning of the several Latin equivalents of some one English word’ (xvi). ‘We can, however, in the present instance asstert with considerable confidence that the compiler was a native of one of the northern counties’ (xx). Check LALME and follow up here if necessary.

Entry annoted by one Mr. Way (*so check his ed. if you can ever find it): ‘An Elfe; lamia, eumenis, dicta Ab eu, quod est bonum, & mene, defectus. [//] Elfe lande’ (113). The latter not glossed, marked with a dagger to show it does not occur in the Promptorium. Whatever that is. Herrtage has a great note also (113, n. 4): ‘ ‘Lamia. A beaste that hath a woman’s face, and feete of an horse.’ Cooper [Thesaurus, 1573]. ‘Satirus. An elfe or a mysshapyn man.’ Medulla … [MLT; CYT] Horman says: ‘The fayre hath chaunged my chylde. Strix, vel lamia pro meo suum paruulum, supposuit.’ … [Ælfric gloss] ‘Pumilius. An elfe or dwarfe.’ Stanbridge, Vocabula. [1500]’

Herschend, Frands, ‘The Origin of the Hall in Southern Scandinavia’, in The Home: Words, Interpretations, Meanings, and Environments, ed. by David N. Benjamin (Aldershot: Avebury, 1995), pp. 203–26. Basically straightforward arch. approach, no fuss.

Herschend, Frands, ‘A Note on Late Iron Age Kingship Mythology’, Tor, 28 (1996), 283–303. Argues that hieros gamos trad as argued for by Steinsland in Skírnismál etc. reflected in Venantius Fortunatus’s peoms re arriage of Sigibert and Brunhild, Metz 566. Brunhild (from Spain) as coming from Útgarðr, brought by Sigibert’s duke Gogo (cf. Skírnir). Utterly unconvincing as connections go, really terrible, but it does serve to emphasise how these mythological and real processes may have paralleled one another. Venantius’s poem might be worth citing in that connection.

Herschend, Frands, Livet i hallen: Tre fallstudier i den yngre järnålderns aristokrati, Occasional Papers in Archaeology, 14 (Uppsala: Institutionen för arkeologi och antik historia, Uppsala universitet, 1997)

Herschend, Frands, The Idea of the Good in Late Iron Age Society, Occasional Papers in Archaeology, 15 (Uppsala: Department of Archaeology and Ancient History, 1998).

Herschend, Frands, Journey of Civilisation: The Late Iron Age View of the Human World, Occasional Papers in Archaeology, 24 (Uppsala: Department of Archaeology and Ancient History, 2001)

Herschend, Frands, ‘Material Metaphors: Some Late Iron and Viking Age Examples’, in Old Norse Myths, Literature and Society, ed. by Margaret Clunies Ross, The Viking Collection: Studies in Northern Civilisation, 14 (XXXX: University Press of Southern Denmark, 2003), pp. 40–65

Heslop, Kate, ‘Grettisfærsla: The Handing on of Grettir’, Saga-Book, 30 (2006), 65–94. p. 85 has two mentions of Freyr, too fragmentary to be of clear import, but might be worth thinking about them in connection with Freyr and sex. But then I seem to remember Þórr making an appearance somewhere too.

Hessels, J. H. (ed.), An Eighth-Century Latin–Anglo-Saxon Glossary Preserved in the Library of Corpus Christi College, Cambridge (Cambridge, 1890). 81, ‘Naides . fortium [n. 3 ‘So in MS. for fontium]. nymphae.’ I wonder where this lemma came from? Nowt on sources etc. here, alas.

Hessels, John Henry, A Late Eighth-Century Latin–Anglo-Saxon Glossary Preserved in the Library of the Leiden University (ms. voss. qo lat. no. 69) (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1906). Has commentary. [767.c.90.13]. Italics omitted in the following I.25 Commessationes : luxosa . uiuia cum meretribus [moralising?]; I.37 Delirantes . mente . deficientes [medical]; I. 69 Lasciuientes : feruentes [coy?]; I.77 Negotia ecclesiastica . actum rei alicuius [not sure what gloss says but curious that it needs glossing]; I.95 Portentuose : monstruose : exempli . causa . cum sex digitis nati [curiously specific—clearlycontextual; interesting re supernatural/disabilityetc. tho']; I. 109 Religio : quod per eam uni deo religamur; II. 27 Crapula : ingluuies : uel uomitum [health]; II. 92 Inbicilles : infirmi . flexibiles [health]; II. 107 Monachus : grece . singularis latine [interesting that this etymologising is counter to coenobitic ideal—cf. II 188 Coeoboum . ex greco et latino conpositum esse dicitur : est enim habitaculum plurimorum; II 189 Monasterium : unius monachi est habitatio mono enim apud grecos solum est]; II. 111 Morbida : languida [health]; II. 171 Uerbigratione : sermotinatione [two great words!]; II 179 Typo : inflatio cordis : uel :superbia [health-related?]; II 181 Uiolentia : fortia [interesting collocation of meanings—wonder what the source context is?]; II 192 Pusillanimes : inbicilles ['faint-hearted']; III 10 Hispida : deforma nodis [shaggy; nodis shd mean 'of a knot'. hmm. health?]; III 61 Explosa ; mortua [health]; IV 5 Fates : propheta; IV 12 Uncus : lepra [looks like it should be re leprosy though uncus app. is 'hook']; IV 21 Fas : diuinum [interesting narrowing of meaning? Has some relationship with IV 22, Ius : humanum. Interesting]; IV 52 Monarchia : regiminis culmen uel pugne ['the summit of ruling(?) or of battle(?). Interesting; I wonder how easily Anglo-Saxons coped with monachy as a concept?]; IV 58 Oedipia : obscene ; Dapes : carnium infantium; IV 72 Prostuoulum ; locus fornicationis [interesting to get sexual morality material on board]; ?suppuratis turgidis IV 78; IV 89 Morbo re o [for Morbo regio] ; leprositas; IV 114 A theologia ; a diuina generatione [contextually expectable? Seems an interesting interpretation]; V 15 Prurigenem [itch] : bleci; V 16 Podagra : tumor pedum [health]; 17–18 both re praestrigii (deceptions, illusions); VIII 8 In aceruo mercurii . consuetudinem habebant ambulantes in uia ubi sepultus est mercurius lapidem iactare in aceruum ipsius unusquisque pro honore eius [not sure quite what sense of Mercius we have in context, but probably worth checking]; VIII 13 In sublime . idest anticristus . qui quasi feliciter incedit; X, on the Song of Songs, generally full of allegorical readings (Lapidge on this re Theodore?, e.g. X 1 Osculetur me ; ista oscula que execlesie porrexit xpistus quam baptismi nitore mundatam et ornatam per spiritum sanctum odoris sui; XII 29 Lingua tertia ; discordians lingua uel rixosa [anything about language worth noting—but is this about tongues?]; XII 30 Colera ; nausia [health; nausia seems to mean 'sea-sickness']; XIII 1 Cucumerarium : hortus in quo cucumerus crescit . bona erba ad manducandum siue ad medicinam [health—tangentially]; XIII 24 Pilosi : incubi . monstri ; idest menae; XIII 43 Lamia : dea silue dicitur habens pedes similis caballi caput et manus totum corpus pulcre mulieris : et uiderunt multi aliqui manserunt cum ea; XIII 57 Saliunca : erba medicinalis habens spinas miri odoris, crescit in montibus [health—quite a lot of plant-name glosses in this section NB]; XIV 17 Arreptitium ; demoniosum (cf. Ep/Erf--interesting parallel); XIV 26 Lidii; gens (brief though it is it shows the distance of A-Ss from Biblical culture--no need or meaning in elaborating on who these folks are; or maybe they want to but can't; maybe shows priorities of text; perhaps contrast XXXV 70 Calonum ; nomen gentis . cum francis ; 71 Calonum ; militum uel seruorum—Hessels has a cryptic but useful note on this seeing 70 as an expansion of 71, because (I think) the original text is talking about a place in Frankia—either way the outcome may be that this nearby people gets some detail where the far-off Bibical ones don't—centre and periphery discourse); XIV 32 Croceis : erba bona ad medicinam; XIV 34 Uitulam consternantem . lasciuiantem aut aeste pro uermibus (looks medical); XI 35 Teraphin; idolum sic nominatur; XV 38 Concectura ; auguria (relevant re prophecy?); XVI 7 Aruspices; qui aras inspiciunt; Castrum : modica ciuitas ; altioribus muris (I just like this one: this is how a castrum is conceptualised; how does it relate to Bede's usage of ciuitas?); XVI 24-32 Iuge sacrificium; legale officium . 25 Arioli; qui in || ara coniecturam faciunt ; 26 Magi : qui magicam artem faciunt siue philosophiam 27 Malefici; qui sanguine et uictimis et sepe contingunt corpora mortuorum consuetudo autem et sermo sommunis : magos pro meficiis accipiunt Magi uero apud chaldeos philosophi habentur 28 Cubitum ; elin ; 29 Chaldei sunt quos uulgus mathematicos uocat 30 Aruspices ; qui exta inspiciunt et ex his futura predicant ; 31 Incantatores sunt : qui rem . uerbis peragunt ; Aruspices ; qui aues inspiciunt ; (so, lots of stuff about magictastic people etc.); XVIII 17 Oriona : ebirdhring (as in the constellation. i.e. eofor-; app. Grimm says something about it); XIX 48 Necromantia : diuinatio de mortis infantibus; XIX 51 Fabula ; poetarum est . gigantes terram sustenare sub aquis; XXI 12 Filii titan . filii solis qui sunt fortiores hominibus; xxi 16 Conopeum . in similitudine retis contextum propter muscas et culices . nam culix conix hebraice dicitur (so that's where that Harley gloss comes from!); XXIII 17 Ciuitas dauid . archis in hierusalem modica ciuitas altior (more on cities--doesn't Bede associate fortresses with civitates?); XXVII 5 Scina : imitatio uel : grina ; XXVII 7 Luperci : sacerdotes lupercales : 8 Bruma : breuitas ; 9 Lupercalia : ipsa sacra ; 10 Zoziacum ; sideralem ; 11 Lupercal ; templum panos (stuff about pagan stuff); XXVII 15 Mappanus apollo (intriguing--note seems to suggest that it's from Isidore somehow, with some Celtic connection; interesting either way that Apollo is the gloss here); XXVII Phoebe : sol :. 24 Hiebernis : hiemalibus ; 25 Orion : eburdnung (more pagan gods stuff); XXVII Titania ; solaria ; Moloncolia . humor . fellis ; 31 Tethis ; aquis ... 33 artofilax : custos aquilonis |||| . (more gods); XXVIIII 7 Tifon ; filius : saturni : XXVIIII Saturnus ; rex grecorum ; 10 Luridam ; luto sordidam 11 Diana ; filia iouis ; 12 Stipantur ; conpletur ; 13 Ionan ; filia uulcani ... 23 Iouis : filius saturni nouissimus (gods again--with some good euhemerisation re Saturn); XXIX 38 Hyine [hooked e] : nocturnum monstrum similis cani (so that's where nihtgenga comes from?); XXIX 46 Arue : terram (relevant? I think there's another instance earlier too); XXIX 62 De citiuis : de insanis (madness?); XXXIV 31 Tabo : morbus; XXXV 3 Prorigo : urido cutis . idest gyccae 4 Luridus ; pallidus : 5 Hydropicus ; aquaticus : 6 Tentigo : teacitas uentris . idest ebind ... 9 Constipatio ; circumstantia (=gebind; medical stuff/possible medical stuff); 24 Auspiciis ; qui aues inspiciunt ; uel . homines obuiantes 25 Thiesteas : commessationes : 26 Oethepia ; coitum matris et sororis ; sicut manichei in occultis : idest in occulta loca idolorum (interesting stuff re supernatural and sex--some other Oedipal lemma(ta) elesewhere in Leiden too, check index if useful); XXXV 33 Bachantes . turpiter|||| ludentes (supernatural/mythological?); XXXV 45 Suppuratis; insania fluentis uel purulentis; XXXV 47 Metropolis ; mater ciuitatum [goddess?]; XXXV 97 Uatis ; propheta [supernatural]; Ulcus : lepra uel uulnus [medical]; 112 Constipatio; circumstatio [medical??]; 114 Uecors : malo corde [health]; 122 Callos; tensam cutem : idest uarras;

Hiatt, Alfred, 'Beowulf Off the Map', Anglo-Saxon England, 38 (2009), 11-40. 'What happens when we start to view Beowulf ‘off the map’? The first implication, I suggest, is that it might be more profitable to see Beowulf as a poem about a region and its peoples rather than a poem about an ancestral homeland' (33). 'The assumption that Beowulf must in some way memorialize a homeland, either lost or present to the poem’s author and audience, has remained a bedrock of much criticism of the poem since its nineteenth-century reception' (36).

Hibbard, Laura, ‘The Sword Bridge of Chréstien de Troyes and its Celtic Original’, Romanic Review, 4 (1913), 166–90. Erm, didn’t really read it properly, just thought as I’d looked at it I’d put it here. Identified Gunthrum with the motif 189 in Historia Langobardorum.

Higham, Nicholas. 1992. Rome, Britain and the Anglo-Saxons. London: Seaby.

Higham, N. J. The Convert Kings: Power and Religious Affiliation in Early Anglo-Saxon England (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1997).

*Higham, Nick, From sub-Roman Britain to Anglo-Saxon England: Debating the Insular Dark Ages Vol. 2 Issue 1 Page ** January 2004 (History compass) Abstract: The sub-Roman/Anglo-Saxon interface has been hotly debated over the last twenty years, with scholars approaching the subject from several different disciplines and arguing variously for mass migration from Germany and/or elite dominance by a barbarian elite of a British majority. This paper critiques several of the arguments that have recently been offered and suggests that we should prioritise the conquest of eastern England by Anglo-Saxons at an early date, which left political power in barbarian hands. Both migration and acculturation should be considered integral to the constitution of Anglo-Saxon England, its people and its culture. 5–6 re lack of Brittonic, basically citing Joensuu book, esp. Coates, and Coates–Breeze. Rare Brittonic and latin loans; ‘So, too, are place-names of pre-English originm Brittonic, Latin, or other, scarce in eastern England, particularly in comparison with the West, which seems [6] difficult to reconcile with Dark’s vision of a long and vigorous survival of British political power in the region’ (5–6). Nick Higham

Higham, Nicholas, ‘Britons in Northern England in the Early Middle Ages: Through a Thick Glass Darkly’, Northern History, 38 (2001), 5–25.

Higham, Nicholas, ‘The Anglo-Saxon/British Interface: History and Ideology’, in The Celtic Roots of English, ed. by Markku Filppula, Juhani Klemola and Heli Pitkänen, Studies in Languages, 37 (Joensuu: XXXX, 2002), pp. 29–46.

Higham, N. J., ‘Guthlac’s Vita, Mercia and East Anglia in the First Half of the Eighth Century’, in Æthelbald and Offa: Two Eighth-Century Kings of Mercia. Papers from a Conference Hald in Manchester in 2000, ed. by David Hill and Margaret Worthington, BAR British Series, 383 (Oxford: Archaeopress, 2005), pp. 85–90. ‘Another issue is Felix’s treatment of the Britons. It might be thought odd that an eighth-century East Anglian text refers to Britons at all, but we are told that Guthlac’s reputed knowledge of the British language derived from his having been in exile among them, and this is generally now presumed to have been in Wales. However, such an interpretation has a self-evident circularity about it. The logic goes as follows: since there were no Britons in central eastern England by 700, ergo any reference to such must be explained by reference to the far west. This is not very convincing. There are few British place-names surviving in this region, but it may be worth noting that the one central to this text—Crowland—does seem tohave a British suffix [sic] (crug), meaning ‘hill’, ‘barrow’ or ‘mound’.Felix even mentions the presence of a robbed tumulus, against which Guthlac made his home, and the survival of the name element implies a degree of continuity. Felix nowhere states that the Britons who were putatively pillaging the English in Chapter XXXIV were in far-off western Mercia, and his metaphor of British-speaking devils is at Crowland itself. If Guthlac has ‘in years gone by been an exile among them [the Britons], so that he could understand their sibilant speech’, this could have been anywhere the language was spoken. Guthlac’s father had a name that seems to contain a British prefix (pen, meaning ‘great’ or ‘high’) attached to the common suffix walh, meaning ‘foreigner’, ‘slave’ or ‘Welshman’. Such British elements were common in the seventh-century Mercian royal family (as Penda, Pybba or Peada). What these names mean in terms of ethnicity and language is, of course, unclear, but they should not be ignored. // It may be unfashionable, but it is possible to imagine the British language surviving in parts of Middle Anglia—in the [88] Chilterns, for example, as much as the fens—until the late seventh century. Bede’s comments on the survival of a cult at St Albans from the Roman period certainly implies some cultural continuity in the region up to the time when Mercian Christianity colonisd the site in the eighth century [HE i.7]. Felix’s text suggests that pagans were still numerous in the region even after 700, [VG xlviii] implying a context in which cultural change was erratic. Some of the obscure fenland peoples could have retained a British cultural identity to this date, and so have spoken among themselves in Old Welsh. // The text is not, however, adequate evidence on its own for the survival of British cultural identity in any particular locality, and to pursue this line of reasoning further is to miss the point, to which I propose to return. What Felix was seeking o do by reference to Britons was to contrast Guthlac’s reputed victory over “British” devils with the failure of Coenred’s protection of the English nation against actual British attacks’ (87–88).

Higham, N. J., (Re-)Reading Bede: The ‘Ecclesiastical History’ in Context (London: Routledge, 2006). ‘Assuming that those whose opinions and expertised Bede had requested for this work would have had an interest in reading the finished product, the target audience outside Wearmoth/Jarrow which is recoverably internally from the Preface consisted entirely almost exclusively of middle-aged or elderly men of high or comparatively high rank within the religious hierarchy’ (44), with Ceolwulf as the exception since he’sprobably young (44) and illiterate (41–44). 134–42 on broadly positive attitude to Irish/Socttish Xianity.

Higham, Nick. 2007. Britons in Anglo-Saxon England: An Introduction. In Britons in Anglo-Saxon England, ed. Nick Higham, Publications of the Manchester Centre for Anglo-Saxon Studies 7, 1–15. Woodbridge: Boydell.

Higham, Nick, ed. 2007. Britons in Anglo-Saxon England, Publications of the Manchester Centre for Anglo-Saxon Studies 7. Woodbridge: Boydell.

Higley, Sarah Lynn, Between Languages: The Uncooperative Text in Early Welsh and Old English Nature Poetry (Pennsylvania, 1993). Too bloody right it’s uncooperative. Well, 97-184 look like they could be useful in principle re the visualising problem, but this seemeth not likely in practice! Re Clemoes 1979, ‘This would appear to invite a challenge from a whole battalion of specialists on the mental image. The way a reader perceives images in a text is deeply subjective and unchartable’ (132, disses his reading 132-3. But the idea is interesting.

Higley, Sarah, ‘Dirty Magic: Seiðr, Science, and the Parturating Man in Medieval Norse and Welsh Literature’, in Essays in Medieval Studies, 11 (1994), 137–49, http://www.illinoismedieval.org/ems/VOL11/higley.html. [NW1 701:15.c.95.3436]

Hildburgh, W. L., ‘Psychology Underlying the Employment of Amulets in Europe’, Folklore, 62 (1951), 231-51. ‘In a large proportion of cases the wearer can truthfully give no reason beyond that she (or, less often, he) wears it because it has been worn for that purose as far back as her knowledge goes, and because many persons of her acquaintance use it in the same way’ re amulet-wearers (232). Gendering here interesting. Skimmed it; not otherwise very interesting.

*Hildebrandt, M., ‘Frösö kyrka på hednisk grund’, Fornvårdaren, 24 (Arkeologi i fjäll, skog och bygd, 2) (1989), 153–66

*Hill, John M., The Cultural World in ‘Beowulf’ (Toronto, 1995) (sulj. var. pääkirjasto)

Hill, John M., The Anglo-Saxon Warrior Ethic: Reconstructing Lordship in Early English Literature (Gainesville: University Press of Florida, 2000)

Hill, John, ‘Current General Trends in Beowulf Studies’, Literature Compass, 4 (2007), 66–88. DOI:10.1111/j.1741.4113.2006.00390.x. Handy like you might expect. Section 3, pp. 72ff. re conversation in the poem in recent studies.

*Hill, R., ‘Marriage in Seventh-Century England’, in Saints, Scholars and Heroes: Studies in Medieval Culture in Honour of Charles W. Jones, 2 vols, ed. by M. H. King and W. M. Stevens (Collegeville, MN, 1979), i pp. 67–75.

*Hill, Thomas D., ‘ “The Green Path to Paradise” in Nineteenth-Century Ballad Tradition’, Neophilologische Mitteilungen, 91 (1990), 483–86.

*Hill, Thomas D., ‘The Old English Dough Riddle and the Power of Women’s Magic: The Traditional Context of Exeter Book Riddle 45’, in Via Crucis: Essays on Early Medieval Sources and Ideas in Memory of J. E. Cross Series: Medieval European Studies, vol. 1, ed. by Thomas N. Hall, Thomas D. Hil and Charles D. Wright (Morgantown: West Virginia University Press, 2002), pp. XXXX

*Hills, Catherine, Origins of the English (London, 2003)

Hines, J 1990, ‘Philology, archaeology and the adventus Saxonum vel Anglorum’, in A Bammes-berger and A Wollmann (eds), Britain 400–600: Language and History, Heidelberg: Carl Winter, 17–36.

*Hines, John, ‘The Becoming of the English: Identity, Material Culture and Language in Early Anglo-Saxon England’, Anglo-Saxon Studies in Archaeology and History, 7 (1994), 49–59.

Hines, John, ‘Cultural Change and Social Organisation in Early Anglo-Saxon England’, in After Empire: Towards an Ethnology of Europe’s Barbarians, ed. by G. Ausenda, Studies in Historical Archaeoethnology, 1 (Woodbridge, 1995), 75–93 (discussion 88–93).

Hines, John, ‘Religion: The Limits of Knowledge’, in The Anglo-Saxons from the Migration Period to the Eighth Century: An Ethnographic Perspective, ed. by John Hines, Studies in Archaeoethnology, 2 (Woodbridge, 1997), pp. 375–410. (including discussion). ‘In an attempt to add something worthwhile to this material and not merely to summarize it, I have sought, in this paper, to emphasize the procedural decisions that have to be taken in studying early Anglo-Saxon religion, and the range of interpretations of the evidence which can be made’ (376). Tricky business of defining religion; Durkheim and his view of religion as any social ritual too broad to be useful (376-77). ‘One phenomenon that seems only to exist within what everyone would accept to be religion is a blief in a divine power or powers: God, gods or goddesses. In itself, this cannot be regarded as the essence of religion for at least one major world religion, Buddhism, is non-theistic. If, however, we expand the concept of divinity beyond the personalized god into a general recognition of spirituality, I believe we will have got as close as we can get to a workable and appropriate definition of religion. Religion, for this study, is defined as a human response to a perceived but intangible spirit world that coexists with the real and concrete human world’ (377). Xian and non-Xian cults in late Roman britain, citing Henig, religion in Roman Britain 217-28 (378). ‘An intriguingly problematic area is that of how far the existence of Christian behaviour may itself create pagan practices’ (379), discusses a bit, egs later. Re Coifi in HE: ‘Although negative, the two constriants upon the priest can be seen as active, creative factors in that they [380] impose an emblematic feminization upon him, something which rings true in terms both of its coherency and of certain further historical echoes’, Germania X, XL, not explicitly mentioning priests in women’s clothes tho’ (379-80). Continental weapon-hoards; deposits ‘rather vaguely, but, in the light of the archaeological finds, still adequately attested to in Classical historical sources from Caesar to Orosius … In the fifth century the range of such hoarding becomes more complex, apparently under the pressure of a need to increase to scope for such ritual consumption, and showing a presumably socially-governed shift from group to individual offerings’ (380). Dearth of hoards in ASE—but same function for grave goods? (380). ‘Burial rites figure very prominently in the standard accounts of pre-Christian Anglo-Saxon religious practices. One cannot deny the common association of funerary ritual and religion. The weakness in admitting the archaeological evidence for buirial into a discussion of early Anglo-Saxon religion can be exemplified by posing two questions: what, in this case, does the archaeological record definitely tell us about the supposedly implicit religion; and what features of the archaeological record does the imputation of religion specially and successfully explain? The answers are nothing and none respectively’ (381). But good re Xianisation (382); ‘The provision of grave goods becomes genuinely exceptional in Anglo-Saxon England only in the late seventh century, and effectively disappears early in the eighth’ (382). ‘Most interesting are a few speical instances of burials that seem quite deliberately to select the opposite of all the most distinctive features of Christian burial … Precisely the same range of features seems to have been deliberately selected for the emphatically pagan funeral of the hero in the Old English heroic epic Beowulf (esp. lines 3136–68)’ (382).

384-91 landscape and buildings. Nowt I didn’t know.

‘I would regard one of the more useful and positive points that can be made concerning the religious and amuletic significance of bracteates to be to note their testimony as to the persistent association of medicinal effects and healing with divine power—again an association apparently shared by both traditional Germanic and Christian religion’ (392); but ‘The number of bracteates known in England is small. They are persistently of a character that suggests they are losing any religious significance their prototypes may have had’ (393). ‘To me it appears, however, that Christianity makes the final phases of the traditional Germanic religion in England knowable in a reasonably substantial way since here, as apparently in late_Roman Britain, the introduction of Christianity was accompanied by a late “pagan” florescence—the use of the term pagan, I think, becoming absolutely unobjectionable when applied to an actively non-Christian religious movement in the presence of Christianity which thus becomes effectively anti-Christian’ (396).

Discussion 401-10. P. J. Fowler ‘The positive point I want to make is that we may appear to be very unrealistic with you writing about religion and me talking about farming. Not least in the minds of a people at the time, the two were really the same thing … What strikes me from the peasant’s point of view is the way in which, once you get Christian religion coming in as the latest of religions, it very quickly colonizes the agrarian cycle, which is, if you like, God-given … It seems to me that the Christian religion very quickly moved in and took over the thought processes that go along with the physical activity of farming’ (403). Hines agrees. Some discussion of whether this happens antagonistically with competing festal dates or what (403-4). Pohl re Woden story in Langobardic bit: ‘Now this is in a mid0seventh-century written version of the Origo gentis Langobardorum, where the story is told quite straightforwardly without any comment. Obviously, when it was later copied, there was a sort of tension connected with this story and it’s interesting to watch how different authors treat the story differently. Our main witness for Langobardic history is Paul the Deacon, who wrote at the end of the eighth century. He comes up pretty much with the same story, but then he goes on to say “Now this is obviously a ridicula fabula” … Then he says, “It’s r ridicula fabula which cannot be true because men cannot give victory to other men, that is what only God can do”. So, quite clearly Woden is not regarded as a god here, but as a man. There is another version of the story which completely omits Woden so as to regain the concept of some divine intervention that brings victory. The earliest form is found in Fredegar, interestingly enough, where it is just a voice from heaven that gives victory and the name to the Langobards. But the Christian and providential elements are only fully developed in a short Langobardic history in the so-called Codex gothanus, which dates to the beginning of the ninth century, where all the pagan elements have disappeared. Whenever stories are treated in these different ways you can see that there is a fundamental tension, that comes as a challenge to authors to somehow resolve this tension by narrative means’ (407).

Hines, John, ‘Myth and Reality: The Contribution of Archaeology’, in Old Norse Myths, Literature and Society, ed. by Margaret Clunies Ross, The Viking Collection: Studies in Northern Civilisation, 14 (XXXX: University Press of Southern Denmark, 2003), pp. 19–39. [earlier version in Old Norse Myths, Literature and Society: Proceedings of the 11th International Saga Conference, 2–7 July 2000, University of Sydney, ed. by Geraldine Barnes and Margaret Clunies Ross (Sydney, 2000), 15–23. [Also at http://www.arts.usyd.edu.au/departments/medieval/saga.html]] Looks at textual, archaeological ev. for cultural importance of smiths; NBs they’re not just craftsmen but may be warriors and aristocrats. Citable for this. Also discusses crafting, society and women in Vọluspá and Rígsþula. Note: ‘Eroticism emerges from the mythological literature as one of the most manifestly serious forms of please. It is dangerous and instructive as well as delightful … The brief invocations of aristocratic sexuality in Rígsþula and Vọluspá thus stand upon the footings of an idealization of the triumphant and experienced male lover as artist, philosopher and hero. One can thus argue that a further refinement of the socially particular perspective of these mythological poems is that it represents solely male interests. It has no pretensions to encompass or represent any female perspective as well. Rather, the power of the female, to captivate and outwit the male [cf. Billings mær I guess] as well as in her special craft—spinning and weaving yarn and fate—is taken as one of the givens of the dramatic scene: the ørlọg seggia, ‘declaring of fate’, that the meyiar marg vitandi, ‘maidens knowing about many things’, lay down for men (Vọluspá, st. 20). The best of men are callenged to exploit and profit from this power—just as they exploit the productivity of technology and the land, and of subordinate craftsmen and farmers—as best they can’ (35).

Hines, John, Voices in the Past: Engish Literature and Archaeology (Cambridge: Brewer, 2004). 26–26 important theoetical assessment of cultural history, combining arch. and lit. etc. ‘Indeed one of the most hamstrung manifestations of the integrated study of archaeology and literature has been the virtually theory-free illustrative [29] mode, depending upon connexions that are immediately obvious where the literature refers to something that archaeology happens to have found, or vice versa. // A disappointingly clear and familiar example ofthis within the field of English studies is the ‘Beowulf and Sutton Hoo’ syndrome’ (28–29, discussion running to 30).

Anglo-Saxon kingdoms get bigger as the period goes on. ‘The understandably tempting idea that this process started with an atomized society, organized only in small local communities that progressively merged is perhaps a little naïve: it seems we can allow for extensive if unstable overkingship from a very early stage, and some of the local subdivisions that we knoew of—for instance Middlesex between Essez and Wessex—may well have been created within larger units for local administration rather than preceding them’ (40, citing Basset, The Origins of Anglo-Saxon Kingdoms). ‘Besides the sunken huts, whose structural character has been much argued over but which are widely agreed to have served as utilitarian working and storage sheds, we find rectangular post-built timber houses, unfortunately often called “halls”, and in the normal run of things providing an internal space of around 40 to 80 square metres’ (48). The point being the scepticism over the term hall. Likewise re Mid Sax Shuffle: ‘none of the known settlement sites representing the earliest part of the Anglo-Saxon period to archaeology continues beyond the 8th century, as far as we can tell, and sites representing occupation in the 8th century shw at the earliest some signs of activity there in the 6th. This discontinuity in settlement location has come to be termed the “Middle Saxon Shuffle”, but the term itself may be misleading in suggesting a more unitary, and chronologically more sharply defined process than was probably the case’ (52).

‘According to the model of culture represented in Figure 2 (above, p. 14), the human place in the natural and cultural world is not just a matter of geographical location, but rather at an intersection of environmental, social and ideological spheres of experience’ (54). Quotes The Phoenix’s unexpectedly long description of gathering harvest 56–57 (ll. 242–64)--interesting in view of its description of landscape too. Turning to Sfr 49, ‘In fact, the word wongas here, normally translated as ‘plains’, is one of the words most frequently used to denote the landscape of Old English poetry. It is a word with no semantic connotations involving the cultural modification or use of the land. There are no certain examples of its use to form place-names in Anglo-Saxon England, although names in Viking-period and later Scandinavian-influenced areas may include the Norse cognate element vangr, which came to mean ‘field’. Old English poetry emphatically presented a raw wasteland, an uncūþ gelād or wēsten (“unknown expanse”, “waste”), as its typical rural setting: an uncultivated and open stage on which its heroes, be they Beowulf, the fleeing Israelites, or holy characters facing their temptations, could be tested and proved’ (57).

58–62 interesting musings on sacred and profane space in Andreas. Re ‘Þa se beorg tohlad / eorðscræf egeslic, ond þær in forlet / flod fæðmian’ (1587–89), ‘The term beorg is ambiguous in Old English. It is used of both a small, rounded, natural hill, and of constructed burial mounds ... The word eorðscræf, which could refer to any pit of fissure, commonly had the meaning “grave” in Old English poetry and certainly does so on the two other occasions it is used in Andreas. It is truly impossible to encournter this collocation of beorg and the accursed burial places of condemned criminals without evoking the parallel late Anglo-Saxon use of what they perceived as heathen barrows as execution sites. In this was, Andreas emerges as firmly rooted in the Anglo-Saxon organisation and use of the landscape despite its idealism and its desire to transcend the worldly’ (62).

Hines, John, 'The Writing of English in Kent: Contexts and Influences from the Sixth to the Ninth Century', NOWELE: North-Western European Language Evolution, 50/51 (2007), 63-92. Handy if you come back to this area--good generl history with interesting points and references. Pushes the idea that history of Kentish is more about history of Kent and especially literacy there. 'Even the kingdom of Kent saw early seventh-century royal reversion to the traditional, 'pagan' religion' (66)--nice to see that kind of terminology settling in. 'The history of the language truly is a fundamental part of history itself' (87)--nice sharp ideological statement.

Hinton, David A., ‘Anglo-Saxon Smiths and Myths’, Bulletin of the John Rylands University Library of Manchester, 80 (1998), 3–21.

Hinton, David A., A Smith in Lindsey: The Anglo-Saxon Grave at Tattershall Thorpe, Lincolnshire, The Society for Medieval Archaeology Monograph Series, 16 (London: The Society for Medieval Archaeology, 2000)

*Hinton, James, ‘Walter Map, its Plan and Structure’, PMLA (1918), c. 132.

*Hinton, J., ‘Notes on Walter Map’s De Nugis Curialium’, Studies in Philology 20 (1923), 448-68 p. 454 re. ii.14 cites de Bourbon [mod lang per ST910]

Hjalti Snær Ægisson. „Um ljóðabækur ungskálda frá árinu 2004. Nokkrar glæfralegar athugasemdir“. Són, 2005, s. 141–159.

Hoad, Catherine and Samuel Whiting, 'Kvlt? The Cultural Capital of “Nordicness” in Extreme Metal', m/c Journal: A Journal of Media and Culture, 20.6 (2017).

Hoad, Terry, ‘Old English Weak Genitive Plural -an: Towards Establishing the Evidence’, in From Anglo-Saxon to Early Middle English: Studies Presented to E. G. Stanley, ed. by Malcolm Godden, Douglas Gray and Terry Hoad (Oxford, 1994), pp. 108–29. Explicit re not having all the answers yet (108). Finds and discusses various egs, most of them are a bit dubious one way or another. Has about 10 pretty good egs for adjs and nouns and reckons others could be found, but ‘with no claim that it is in any way conclusive’ (129).

Hodgkin, Louise Manning, Via Christi: An Introduction to the Study of Missions (Norwood, MA: Macmillan, 1901), accessed from http://www.archive.org/details/viachristiintrod00hodg 20th April 2009.

Hodgson, Marshall G. S., The Venture of Islam: Conscience and History in a World Civilization, 3 vols. (Chicago, 1974).

Hoffmann, Hartmut, and Rudolf Pokorny, Das Dekret des Bischofs Burchard von Worms: Textstufen—Frühe Verbreitung—Vorlagen, MGH Hilfsmittel, 12 (Munich: XXXX, 1991). p. 32 re date.

Höfler, M., Deutsches Krankheitsnamen-Buch (Munich: Piloty & Loehele, 1899). p. 10ff. re alp. 114 re epilspsy, s.v. Epilspsie but not re medieval stuff. S.v. Mar (macs., gives also mare f. same entry) pp. 396–98. Cf. this entry re alp and mar moving together semantically. 600–601 re Schratt. goodo. 595–99 re Schoss incl. Elben-, Hexen-, Bilwiz-, Drachen-, Teufel-Schuss. alsos.v. schiessen 567–68.

*Höfler, M., ‘Krankheits-Dämonen, Archiv f. Religionswissenschaft, 2 (1899), 162-3 elves as dvil in continental folklore, cf. 103, 112, 116, 123-4, 131-2 et pass.; much cited by Thun basically.

Hofstetter, Walter, ‘Zur lateinische Quelle des altenglischen Pseudo-Dioskurides’, Anglia, 101 (1983), 315–60. Hopefully this is now duplicated in Medieval Herbals and I don’t have to follow it up. But basically assigns OE Herbarium CXL Tunsingwyrt to Curae herbarum whatever that actually is, saying that ‘In der ersten Hälfte dieses Texts sind Teile von Diosc IV.148 Elleborus leukos verarbeitet; der Rest stammt aus einer anderen Quelle’ (328). Then he looks at a particular MS containing this and other stuff, MS BN 13955, f. 145r/1–146r/7 and this contains the Latin source for CLIX as Kapitel LI: ‘Elleborum nigrum uel epipactinum Ad curam iectoris herba suprascripta si sicca tundatur et cri[343]brata ad modum coclearis ex aqua calida bibatur mire facit. Ex uivo herba aduersus omnia uenena medicamen erit’ (342–3). ‘Trotz der unterschiedlichen Bezeichnungen ist die Entsprechung eindeutig. Es handelt sich hier weder um die Pflanze Elleborus albus (Diosc IV.148), die in Ae Herb 52.20–23 und 258.21–262.3 unter den Bezeichnungen Elleborus albus, Tunsingwyrt und Wedeberge behandelt wird (Kapitel CXL; zur lat. Vorlage siehe Tabelle II und III)[n. 51: Die (stark beschädigte) Abbildung dieser Pflanze in Vitellius C.III, f. 60va weist einen deutlichen Unterschied zu der auf, die in derselben Hs. f. 66va dem Ae Herb 286.25–288.3 entsprechenden Text zu Elleborus albus vorangestellt ist.], noch um Elleborus niger (Diosc IV.162), sondern es liegt eine Bearbeitung von Diosc IV.108 Epipaktis (Synonym Elleborine) ohne Pflanzenbeschreibung vor. Daß dem lat. ‘cribrata ad modum coclearis ex aqua calida’ im ae. Text ‘on wearmum wætere þæs dustes syx cuceleras fulle’ entspricht, ist wahrscheinlich damit zu erklären, daß der lat. Text versehentlich als ‘cribrata ad modum cocleari sex aqua calida’ gelesen wurde. Neben den Rezepten gegen Leberbeschwerden und Gifte hat BN 13955, f. 145r/13–14 auch noch eine Verwendung der Pflanze als Niespulver, zu der der griech. Text jedoch keine Entsprechung bietet.’ (343).

Hofstetter, Walter, Winchester und der spätaltenglische Sprachgebrauch: Untersuchungen zur geographischen und zeitlichen Verbreitung altenglischer Synonyme, Münchener Universitäts-Schriften, Philosophische Fakultät, Texte und Untersuchungen zur Englischen Philologie, 14 (Munich: Fink, 1987) pp. 568–70. re Antwerp-London glossary dialect, noting Kentish and non-W-S features incl. e for lWS y, æ. [? 759.c.126.14 NW4]

Hofstetter, Walter, ‘The Old English Adjectival Suffix -Cund’, in Words, Texts and Manuscripts: Studies in Anglo-Saxon Culture Presented to Helmut Gneuss on the Occasion of his Sixty-Fifth Birthday, ed. by Michael Korhammer (Cambridge, 1992), pp. 325–47. Handy and up-to-date survey re -kund as well—refs to this in Norse are to Cahen early C20. ‘As far as the meaning of function of -cund is concerned, accounds of Old English or Germanic word formation state (a) that this suffix indicates descent or origin and (b) that adjectives formed with it can mean “of the nature of what is denoted by their first constituents”.’ (325). Gmc stuff specifically throughout, and Norse stuff accordingly too. ON kyndr, reckoned by C19 Gislason [sic—correct?] to be same as or mistake for kundr in article on Y.tal—hmm, are there textual problems here as well as philological? (cited 328). Re early gmc meanings of ‘*kunða-’, presumably meant to be’*-kunða’ despite the consistency 328–32. Oice shows a well-defined class with supernatural being as first element ‘descended from divine X’ cf. áskundr, or ‘of divine origin’ cf. reginkunn(ig)r (329–30). Emph then shifts from ‘birth’ to ‘kind, character’ (331).

Reckons there are 6 semantic types of Gmc. compounds in –kunnr etc.: 1a. 1st el. noun/adj ofsocial status or class; 1b. 1st el is noun denoting man or woman generically; 2a 1st el is non denoting supernatural being; [340] 2b 1st el isnoun denoting ‘a non-physical, i.e.spiritual aspect of a human being’ (340); 3a 1st el is ‘a deictic locative adverb’; 3b: 1st el is ‘a locative noun denoting one of the three cosmic places or states of existence of Christian dogma’ (339–40; tho’ OE hiwcund, metercund and yfelcund go unclassified, p. 341). In OE 2a gets god- lots but also engel- and deofol-; only OE has the full set of all these in his list (340–41). But Old Norse runic inscriptions get 2a only: raginakundr (1×), ræginkundr (1×) ‘of divine origin’ (341). Oice again all 2a: áskyndr (1×), áskunnr (1×), áskunnigr (1×) ‘descended from Aesir’; reginkunnr (1×), reginkunnigr (1×), ‘of divine origin’; goðkyndr (1×), goðkunnigr (1×), goðkunnigr [sic] (1×) ‘of divine origin’; álfkyndr (1×), álfkunnr (1×), álfkunnigr (1×) ‘descended from elves’; trollkundr (1×) ‘of troll-kind’ (342). Hmm, not sure about the last one there—sense 2b (but this is only attested in OE gastcund 2× and sawolcund 1×, p. 340)? NB Cl.Vig. and Sveinbörn Egilsson only give áskunnigr (Fáfnismál), áskunnr (Snorri re Fáfn 13 but also Akv 27 ‘om Niflingeskatten som hidrørende fra aserne), alfkunnigr (Fáfn 13), alfkunnr (Snorri re Fáfn 13), godkynningr (Yt 27, ‘person, der er goðkunnr, af guddommelig herkomst (urigt. v. l. –konungr)’), reginkunnigr (re. Jörmunrekr, Hamð 25), reginkunnr (Háv 80) (these s.vv.). Hofstetter got his data from Cahen 1924, 80–84, and maybe it’s a bit wobbly as such. But these citations look okay.

Hogg, Richard M., A Grammar of Old English, Volume 1: Phonology (Oxford: Blackwell, 1992). 1992a grammar. §5.85(10a) ‘Words with the suffixes –iht, -in, (> -en), -ing, -isc [dotted c] normally … do not show i-umlaut … Unumlauted forms are either reformations on the base of the simplex, such as staniht [macr a], or post-i-umlaut formations, such as folcisc [dotted c], see also 5.85(11)’ (136). §5.85(11), ‘If the first element of a compound is an i-stem, it might be expected that it should show i-umlaut, paralleling the simplex, but if the first syllable is long then */i/ is lost before the time of i-umlaut … The phenomenon is found less often with short syllables’ (137).

5.15 ‘The only significant dialectal variations concerned with first fronting occur when *a is followed by covered and velarized [l] [line thru]. In these circumastances first fronting to æ with later breaking to ea, this giving eald ‘old’ < *ald etc., occurs in some dialects, but in other dialects, as discussed in §§5.10-13, first fronting fails because of the velar quality of the following consonant. It must be assumed that, in those dialects where first fronting occurs, to be followed by breaking, the /l/ is insufficiently velarized to prevent fronting, whereas in the other dialects the degree of velarization is greater. The position in the different dialects is as follows. In EWS there is considerable variation. The greatest degree of retention of a is seen in Hand A of Chron(A), where <a> occurs 94x, <ea> 16x, excluding personal and place-names, whereas in CP <ea> spellings predominate and in Oros <a> are even fewer. In LWS <ea> spellings are normal, and <a> spellings are extremely rare … In the circumstances the <a> spellings cannot be said [re Kentish] to provide convincing evidence of the persistence of an a-dialect … From this distribution we may conclude that in the North and Midlands there was a single a-dialect whereas in the South there were originally two sub-dialects, an a-dialect and an ea-dialect [hmm, could this be a register thing?]. Gradually, however, the ea-dialect encroached on the a-dialect, although the geography of the change remains obscure’. Similar line to Stanley 1969, 46-7. Hmm, it’d be fun to argue for an innovative ea dialect being suppressed by Mercian-orientated aristocratic dialect.

5.82, n. 4 ‘It is noticeable, however, that in those EWS texts which show signs of being (influenced by) an a-dialect, see §5.15, the i-umlaut is almost always of ea, for example, Chron(A)Hand(A), CP, Oros ieldra. Instances of æ are to be found only in the personal name Ælfred, which was fossilized in its Merc form, and other instances of the name-element Ælf-, cf. EWS ielf ‘elf’. Occasional examples with –e-, no doubt the Angl i-umlaut of ea, can be found … but it would seem clear that in these dialects /l/, when followed by /i, j/ in the next syllable, was not normally sufficiently velarized to prevent first fronting.’

5.76, n. 4 ‘It is not necessary to suppose that hælfter shows umlaut of */a/ due to failure of first fronting in an a-dialect … But this is probably the explanation of ælf ‘elf’ alongside ylf, where the latter shows umlaut of *ea due to breaking’.

Hogg, Richard M., ‘Phonology and Morphology’, in The Cambridge History of the English Language, Volume 1: The Beginnings to 1066, ed. by Richard M. Hogg (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1992), pp. 67–167. 1992 b.

Hogg, Richard M., ‘Using the Future to Predict the Past: Old English Dialectology in the Light of Middle English Place-Names’, in Studies in Middle English Linguistics, ed. by Jacek Fisiak, Trends in Linguistics: Studies and Monographs, 103 (Berlin, 1997), pp. 207–20.

Hokkanen, Markku,
‘While the missionaries understandably appear as the central figures of their own narratives ... when placed within the perspective of the nineteenth- and twentieth-century history of South-Central Africa, they were very much “marginal men” and women’ (27)—love it. May or may not be true for Anglo-Saxon England, but a nice concept. I guess one of the key things about early modern Christianisers is that they actually weren’t that marginal: they tended to be powerful people who could really mess with a lot of people’s lives. How far is conversion in Malawi top-down and how far bottom-up? (204 has initial influence among the weak; my subjects apparently always start with the king—cf. 205 and 359, where converting headmen seems to be key—but that could reflect bias of source material.) What causes the apparent step-change in the 1890s (289)? Livingstone as a ‘Protestant saint’ (113), Laws’s biography as ‘hagiographic’ (213), Elmslie ‘almost miraculously’ being cured by a local healer (291)—nice concepts! And potentially useful as a conceptual bridge between Markku’s source material and my own. Ostensibly saints’ lives are talking about quite different kinds of people from mission histories, but arguably they’re substantially similar (some of the lamer saints don’t even have any real miracles to speak of). The complex textual history of Daniel Nhlane’s autobiography is very reminiscent of my material too, and the story quoted is very reminiscent of the kind of anecdotes I see (305).
Healing as leading to conversion (pp. 29 etc.). There must be examples of this in our Anglo-Saxon saints’ lives, alongside things like victory in battle being attributed to the Christian God and leading to conversion, etc. (though these other motivations would themselves be paralleled by Markku’s concept of white man’s medicine as being a route to power—214). In the early modern period, there was a lot of concern about illegitimate healing practices, but how far there was use of healing as a means to attract people to one or another denomination in the early modern period I’m not sure. The potential importance of hospitalisation as a means of exposing people to Christian ideas, and the idea of patient as publicist (358) could be paralleled in monastic communities but how far I’m not sure (early Ireland also has the interesting institution whereby if you wound someone, you can find yourself liable for taking him home and looking after him till he’s well!). The idea that Christ heals and that therefore so should missionaries (94, 95, 112, cf. 142) is one which I could follow up—to see whether similar theological points are made in medieval sources. At any rate, it’s a central business of saints to heal. And healing by saints isn’t always portrayed as being done in a flash of divine lightning—sometimes it’s portrayed as a mundane but still important process. I’ve got really interested in the idea that mission Churchmen from the Mediterranean who came to early Anglo-Saxon England might have brought Mediterranean medical learning/plants with them not just for their own safety, but to make an impression on the locals—this would be a really interesting argument to make (albeit that it would have to be speculative). Healing as a site of competition (or not) between Christian and traditional groups would clearly be another interesting theme.
The overlapping of healer, political authority and ritual specialist (49; cf. 211) is reminiscent of what high medievel sagas tell us of pre-conversion Iceland (and we might assume this for pre-converstion England too). Obviously characters like Laws and early modern bishops could fit all of these categories as well as pre-Colonial Africans or pre-Conversion Icelanders though: it might be interesting to question how far the discourse of modernisation as specialisation really relates to reality. (Cf. the fact that non-medical missionaries often act as healers: 100). Interesting that missionaries seem to have expected to meet ‘priest-physicians’ before actually going to Africa (285)—I wonder where they got the idea from that they’d encounter these? Livingstone? Other ethnological encounters? Classical sources for heathens?! The idea that pagan priests were basically just con-men (cf. 290) has a long, deep genealogy perhaps beginning with Greek philosophers and certainly still a live issue around the mid-twentieth century when C. S. Lewis took a swipe at it. Interesting to see how missionaries get more subtle ideas as they go along (e.g. 297, 304).
Markku’s book raises distinctions between dealing with occasional/endemic disease and epidemic (e.g. 380, 387f.), which might be good to explore. Reff has argued that plague was a key factor in the success of Christianity in Anglo-Saxon England and colonial South America.1 But we’re dealing there with much bigger mortality than with the influenza epidemic I think—the influenze epidemic seems to have encouraged traditional religious responses as well as innovative ones of course (434). The kind of public health legislation in Livingstonia is probably unthinkable for Anglo-Saxon England, but co-ordination of secular and ecclesiastical authorities pretty routine in most things (cf. 390). Christianity in England is in a sense (particularly early on) the colonisation of England by Rome; and sometimes the colonisation one kingdom by another; but it gets nativised pretty quickly, so the interesting issue of tensions between missionaries and colonial authorities (e.g. 398), or the use of missionary discourse against colonials (e.g. 400–1, 441), doesn’t arise I don’t think. Maybe you’d get this more in early modern Scotland?
‘Sin and sickness’ (97, cf. 281, 300)—like it! Early Christians get a bit tied in knots on this: sometimes sickness is sent (e.g. to a saint) to allow them to be purged of sins while on earth, and sometimes just to allow them the privilege of death and their inevitable heavenly glory all the quicker; sometimes sickness is clearly sent as a punishment (which may also lead to death before a person has time to repent); sometimes authors try to stress that sickness has no moral implication; and sometimes dispute and/or confusion is apparent. There’s a strong tradition of saints cursing and healing, and early modern Scotland has some great curses too, both in witch trials and also literary ones. Obviously there are often ad hoc power-games going on here. I guess missionaries have similar, though differently articulated, problems re. relating disease to religion and divine will (cf. missionary weakness p. 191). Not sure if/how often the sin-as-sickness metaphor (281) arises—sin as arrows of the devil seems to be quite prominent in Anglo-Saxon discourse, but I’ve never checked systematically. Perhaps it’s noteworthy that the sin-as-arrows metaphor was kind of conflated by early twentieth-century scholars with a rather thinly attested, traditional sickness-as-arrows metaphor: these scholars, at least, wanted sin to link with sickness! Here’s an interesting Anglo-Saxon example from our earliest Life of the Anglo-Saxon saint Cuthbert, composed around 700, probably at Lindisfarne on the north-east English coast:

De eo quod sanauit mulierem a daemonio uexatam-fuit quidam uir religiosus specialiter carus homini dei nomine hildmaer, cuius uxor a demonio uexabatur nimis. Illa namque multum uastata et usque ad exitum mortis coangustata, frendens dentibus gemitum lacrimabilem emittebat. Supradictus uero uir de amara morte nihil dubitans ad monasterium nostrum proficiscens, uocauit ad se sanctum cuþberhtum, nam etenim illo tempore aecclesiae nostrae praepositus erat, indicans ei uxorem suam pene usque ad mortem infirmantem, non quae calamitas esset insaniae reuelauit. Iam enim erubescebat illam olim religiosam, tamen a demonio uexatam indicare. Nesciebat etiam nec intellegens, quod talis temptatio frequenter christianis accidere solet. Sed tantum presbiterum aliquem secum mittere, et requiem sepulture deposcebat. Statim autem homo dei preparare aliquem ad mittendum cum illo exiit. Et primo recessu eius a spiritu dei inbutus, cito conuersus reuocans eum dixit, hoc quippe ministerium meum est, et non est alterius tecum pergere. Tunc uero preparauit se homo dei, et omnes simul portati sunt equis, et uidens socium suum flentem et lacrimantem duobus causis, hoc est pro moriente uxore sibi deserto et orbanis relictis, et maxime pro ignominiosa insaniae, in qua horribiliter redactam et inpudenter confractam et saliua pollutam, olim iam pudicam et castam, sciens homini dei exspectanda erat, consolari eum cepit mitissimis uerbis, et omnem infirmitatem quam ei celauerat qualis esset reuelauit. Et postremo addit, prophetico ore dicens, iam enim quando ueniemus ad habitacula uestra, uxor tua quam mortuam putas in obuiam mihi occurrens in acceptione habenarum istius equi quas nunc in manibus teneo per dei adiutorium effugata demone saluata ministrabit nobis. Igitur peruenerunt sicut diximus, homo dei ad uillam, et mulier quasi de somno surgens uenit in obuiam, et primo tacto freni plene pulsato demone sanitati pristine reddita, ut illa cum gratiarum actione testata est ministrauit illis.2
About how he healed a woman who was afflicted by a demon
There was a certain devout man, especially loved by the man of God, called Hildmær, whose wife was terribly afflicted by a demon. So when she had been greatly ravaged, and oppressed to the point of the departure of death, gnashing her teeth, she let out a pitiable cry. The aforementioned man, not doubting bitter death, setting out to our monastery, called to himself the holy Cuthbert, because at that time he was the prefect of our Church; declaring to him that his wife was sick almost to the point of death, he did not reveal that that affliction was insanity. For at that point he blushed/felt ashamed to declare her, who was once devout, now to have been afflicted by a demon. For he did not know nor understand, that such temptation tends frequently to happen to Christians. But he requested that some priest be sent with him, and the peace of a burial. Immediately, however, the man of God left to prepare someone to send with him. And at his first reflection, imbued with the spirit of God, having swiftly turned back, calling him back said, ‘This is assuredly a job for me, and not another, to proceed with you’. Then indeed the man of God prepared himself, and everyone travelled at the same time by horse; and seeing his companion weeping and crying for two reasons—that is because his wife was dying alone and orbanis relictis (??) and most of all because of the ignominy of insanity, into which she, once pure and virtuous, had been horribly driven, shamelessly broken, and defiled with saliva—knowing what must await the man of God, he began to console him with gentle words, and he revealed to the other the whole infirmity which he had concealed, just as it had been. And afterwards he went on, speaking with prophetic mouth: ‘When we come to your abode, your wife whom you think dead, running up to meet me, taking the reins of this very horse, which I now hold in my hands, will minister to us healed and with the demon put to flight. So they arrived as we said, the man of God to the estate, and the woman as though rising from sleep came to meet him, and at the first touch of the bridle the demon was entirely driven away and the women returned to perfect health, as she testified with a show of thanks, when she ministered to them.

Holbek, Bengt, The Interpretation of Fairy Tales: Danish Folklore in a European Perspective, FF Communications, 239 (Helsinki, 1987)

Hole, Christina, ‘Some Instances of Image-Magic in Great Britain’ in The Witch Figure: Folklore Essays by a Group of Scholars in England Honouring the 75th Birthday of Katharine M. Briggs, ed. by Venetia Newall (London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1973), pp. 80–94. Mentions A-S one 83; gowdie etc. 82–83.

*Hollis, S., Anglo-Saxon Women and the Church: Sharing a Common Fate (Woodbridge, 1992).

**Hollis, Stephanie, ‘The Remedies in British Library MS Cotton Galba A.xiv, fos 139 and 136r’, Notes and Queries, 41 (1994), ?146-7.

*Hollis, Stephanie, ‘Old English “Cattle-Theft Charms”: Manuscript Contexts and Social Uses’, Anglia, 115 (1997), 139–64

*Hollis, Stephanie, ‘The Old English “Ritual of the Admission of Mildrith” (London, Lambeth Palace 427, fol. 210)’, Journal of English and Germanic Philology, 97 (1998), 311–21

*Hollis, Stephanie, ‘The Minster-in-Thanet Foundation Story’, Anglo-Saxon England, 27 (1998), 41–64

Holm 1971 XXXX

Holmberg, Bente, ‘Views on Cultic Place-Names in Denmark: A Review of Research’, in Old Norse and Finnish Religions and Cultic Place-Names, Based on Papers Read at the Symposium on Encounters Between Religions in Old Nordic Times and Cultic Place-Names Held at Åbo, Finland, on the 19th-21st August 1987, ed. by Tore Ahlbäck (Åbo, 1990), pp. 381–93. ‘Henry Petersen would seem to be the first person in Scandinavia to have drawn attention to the fact that personal names containing names of gods or words for gods can be an important source of information about the history of religion’ in 1876 (382, cf. 381–82). She reckons best treatment is Hald 1971, 36–52.

Holmberg, Bente, ‘Asbjørn, Astrid og Åsum: om den hedenske as som navneled’, in Sakrale navne: rapport fra NORNAs sekstende symposium i Gilleleje 30.11.–2.12.1990, ed. by Gillian Fellows-Jensen and Bente Holmberg, NORNA-rapporter, 48 (Uppsala: Norna-Förlaget, 1992), pp. 235–49.

Holmberg, Bente, ‘Über sakrale Ortsnamen und Personnennamen im Norden’, in Germanische Religionsgeschichte: Quellen und Quellenprobleme, ed. by Heinrich Beck, Detlev Ellmers and Kurt Schier, Ergänzungsbände zum Reallexicon der germanischen Altertumskunde, 5 (Berlin: de Gruyter, 1992), pp. 541–51. 548 cites Alfkil and Thorkil.

Holmberg, Bente, ‘Recent Research into Sacral Names’, in Developments Around the Baltic and the North Sea in the Viking Age, ed. by Björn Ambrosiani and Helen Clarke, Birka Studies, 3 (Stockholm: The Birka Project, 1994), pp. 280–93 [595:01.c.16.3]. Re Kousgård Sørensen 1992 ‘The topic is illustrated with examples, most of which are Danish lake- and river-names, and the author demonstrates that hydronymy is a treasure-chest of popular superstitions waiting to be opened by modern folklorists’ (282).

Holmes, Thomas Scott (ed.), The Register of John Stafford, Bishop of Bath and Wells, 1425–1443: From the Original in the Registry at Wells, Somerset Record Society, 31–32, 2 vols (London: Harrison, 1915–16) [rare books, Syn.5.88.306–]. Vol 2 pp. 225–27, item no. 693 in edition; date 1348 presumably in error for 1438, as editor assumes with marginal dating:

‘Acta et habita coram Johanne etc. episcopo in quadam magna camera sua infra manerium de Woky xxvo die Augusti, 1348, indiccione prima, pontificatus sanctissimi etc. [Fol. 149d; p. 226] Eugenii pape quarti anno octavo; comparuit quedam Agnes Hancok, mulier, de villa Montis Acuti, que alias publice diffamata de crimine sortilegii, et presertim de et super quatuor articulis infrascriptis: vocata fuit pridem ad comparendum coram Magistro Johanne Stevenes dicti reverendi patris commissario generali, ad respondendum super eisdem articulis, quibus sibi alias per dictum Magistrum Johannem ex officio objectis illa negative respondebat dicendo nec famam fuisse veram nec rem sic se habere prout articuli continebant. Quapropter idem Magister Johannes commissarius indixit ipsi Agneti purgacionem faciendam coram eo certis die et loco cum certo numero compurgatricum mulierum honestarum si eam facere legitime potuisset, prout idem Magister Johannes prefatum reverendum patrem, presente dicta Agnete, judicialiter informavit, quemadmodum dicta Agnes hec ipsa acta fuisse tunc ibidem in judicio fatebatur; ceterum quia prefata Agnes in purgacione, ut premittitur, sibi indicta penitus defecit, igitur dictus commissarius eam pre defectu purgacionis tanquam convictam pronunciavit de et super articulis dupradictis, quorum tenores seriatim subscribuntur;—

In primis quod ipsa Agnes Hancok asserere solebat publice quod per inspeccionem camisie infirmi, zone, calige, seu alicujus indumenti ejusdem, sciebat et scit discernere pro vero quando illa infirmitas primo cepit infirmum, quomodo et qua de causa, licet nunquam videat infirmum, et sic patria communiter credit.

Secundo, quod ipsa per inspeccionem hujusmodi indumenti et maxime per mensuracionem zone vel calige egrotantis, publice asserit et jactat in partibus, quod scit discernere et judicare an ipse egrotans morietur ex illa infirmitate vel vivet, et sic plures indicat simplices decipiendo.

Tercio, quod ipsa Agnes mittit egrotantibus [egroto ‘I make ill’] remedium sanitatis, ut dicit, per benediccionem hujusmodi zone [zona ‘belt’], camisie [camisia ‘shirt etc.’], tene [tena ‘coif’], vel alterius indumenti infirmitatis, licet infirmum nunquam videat, neque tangat; et hanc artem publice profitetur diebus Lune, Mercurii, et Veneris, spretis aliis diebus.

Quarto, quod ipsa profitetur se sanare pueros tactos vel lesos a spiritibus aeris, quos vulgus “feyry” appellant; et quod habet communicacionem cum hiis spiritibus immundis et ab eis petit respona et consilia quando placet. [227, my emboldening]

Verum quia fama publica referente pervenit ad dicti reverendi patris noticiam quod ipsa, premissis non obstantibus publice residivavit et non verebatur palam agere in premissis sicuti consuevit, dominus volens ex officio procedere jussit eam prefatis die et loco ad suam audienciam evocari. Quibus quidem die et loco dicta Agnes comparuit et ad premissa sibi per ipsum reverendum patrem tunc seriatim objectis respondit se languidis confluentibus ad eam vel sibi mittentibus medicinam prebere per virtutem quarumdam oracionum quas se dicebat ex hac causa uti et exercere, et nichil aliud videbatur tunc prima facie ibi fateri. Sed tunc incontinenti jussit idem reverendus pater dicte Agneti ipsas oraciones coram eo publice recitare, quas cum ibi publice dixisset, quia dominus inter alia contenta dictarum oracionum quedam verba extranea et incognita audivit dici et referri que prefata Agnes nec interpretari novit neque declarare in vulgari, sicut dicit, dominus ex gratia penam atque penitenciam pro premissis hactenus exercitis relaxavit, sed eidem. Agneti prefatos iiijo articulos et omnem speciem sortilegii atque heresis jussit abjurare, quod ipsa tunc ibidem judicialiter sponte [fol. 150] sua fecit voluntante, abjurando in forma sibi ad tunc demandata. Et statim tunc ibidem comparuerunt eciam ad dictos diem et locum vocate quedam Johanna Bruther uxor Johannis Bruther de Chiewton predicte diocesis, necnon Alicia Belle uxor Johannis Belle de eadem, mulieres publice diffamate de criminibus sortilegii et malificii, quarum untraque fuerat publice diffamata quod si malam voluntatem adversus aliquam personam haberet, dampnificaret ei vel in corpore, vel in pane seu cervisia, animalibus, granis, seu aliis rebus suis per artem sortilegii et maleficii. Unde ad instanciam incolarum parochie de Chiewton ibi de premissis querelancium in gravi multitudine ibi congragatorum et petencium de remedio adversus hujusmodi malificii provideri utraque dictarum mulierum crimen sortilegii et malificii hujusmodi ac omnem speciem heresis, mandante domino, publice sponte sua in judicio abjuravit ac ipsarum utraque juravit penam et elapsi voluntarie incurrere et subire si de residivacione posset imposterum aliqualiter edocteri’.

Hands up who understood any of that then?

Holm-Olsen, Ludvig (ed.), Konungs skuggsjá, Norrøne tekster, 1, 2nd edn (Oslo: Norsk Historisk Kjeldeskrift-Institutt, 1983). Ch. 8: interesting scepticism re book about India (but also acceptance that it might actually be true, and discomfort that others will find Scandnavia just as strange.

Holmqvist Larsen, N. H., Møer, skjoldmøer og krigere: En studie i og omkring 7. bog af Saxo’s Gesta Danorum, Studier fra sprog- og oldtidsforskning, udgivet af Det Filologisk-Historiske Samfund, 304 (Copenhagen: Museum Tusculanums Forlag, 1983). Looked thru quite carefully and didn’t find anything that really did it for me, but was perhaps uncareful.

Holmström, Helge, Studier över svanjungfrumotivet i Volundarkvida och annorstädes (Malmö: Maiander, 1919). Wierdly has a second title page giving Lund: Ohlsson, 1919. [NF2 463:2.c.90.1]

Holsinger, Bruce, Neomedievalism, Neoconservatism, and the War on Terror, Paradigm, 29 (Chicago: Prickly Paradigm Press, 2007). Two kinds of medievalism. One is the usual old fashioned kind, basically in this context an extension of orientalism which others people and which casts them into a different temporality from the global north. 'Post-9/11 medievalism functions, too, as a means of reducing a host of very complex geopolitical forces to a simple historical equation, freeing its users from the demands of subtlety, nuance, and a rigorous historical understanding of the nature of inter- and supra-national conflict in an era of globalization. In this temporal bisecting of the world, America's enemies inhabit an unchanging medieval space equivalent in many ways to the monolithic East imagined in [10] Orientalist discourses of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. One of the more obvious effect of 9/11, in fact, has been to reenergize the enduring interplay of medievalism and Orientalism' (9-10). Though one then wonders what happens to this kind of orientalist-medievalism in countries which have a more central medievalist discourse in their nationalism, like Iceland? Then there's the other kind, neomedievalism, that sees the post-national world as alike to high medieval Europe, where states don't exercise full sovereignty but there are overlapping and incomplete sovereignties. (An idea apparently first floated by Hedley Bull, The Anarchical Society: A Study of Order in World Politics (1977).) Again, terrorists are seen by American administrations as belonging to this neo-medieval(ist) world; and America responds by treating itself as, e.g. outside Geneva Conventions on prisoners of war. Iceland's place in this is interesting too: its sovereignty has been compromised by imperialism, then by American military occupation, and then by banking crisis. It's a micro-state; it's been the target of anti-terrorism legislation; it's taken a proactive stance on whistleblowing with results for its position on Wikileaks, Manning and Snowden. In a way it's also benefited from its microness, being able to face down Britain on cod and Icesave because it would look too bad for Britain to beat it up. It benefits from this in belonging culturally to the global north, with medievalism a big part of this.

Holsinger, Bruce, 'Of Pigs and Parchment: Medieval Studies and the Coming of the Animal', PMLA, 124 (2009), 616 - 23,

Holsinger, Bruce, 'Parchment Ethics: A Statement of More than Modest Concern', New Medieval Literatures, 12 (2010), 131--36 (on the VLE)

* Holthausen, F., ‘Rezepte, Segen u. Zauber-sprüche aus zwei Stockh. Hss.’, Anglia, 19 (1897) XXXX, item 5 (?89/11) A source re the vluekecche thing.

Holthausen, F., 'Zu Alt- und Mittelenglischen Dichtungen XV', Anglia: Zeitschrift für englische Philologie, 24 (1901), 264--68

Holthausen, F., Altenglisches etymologisches Wörterbuch, Germanische Bibliothek, 4. Reihe (Wörterbücher), 7 (Heidelberg, 1934). sv. pocc, cites Walde-Pokorny, Vergleichendes Würterbuch der indogermanische Sprachen, II 116 f., cf. 113 u. 117. Himself says ‘<lat. bucca “Backe”?’ s.v. siden f. ‘Zauber’ in ælf~ ‘Elfenzauber, Fieber’, zu ais. síða, zum vor’ Nowt for sidsa.

Holtsmark, Anne, Studier i Snorres mytologi, Skrifter utgitt av Det Norske Videnskaps-Akademi i Oslo, II. hist.-filos. klasse, ny serie, 4 (Oslo, 1964).

Holtsmark, Anne, Norrøn mytologi: tro og myter i vikingtiden (Oslo, 1970).

Holzmann, Verena, ‘ “Ich beswer dich wurm vnd wyrmin…”: Die magische Kunst des Besprechens’, Zeitschrift für Literaturwissenschaft und Linguistik, 130 (2003XXXX), 25–47.

Honko, Lauri, Krankheitsprojektile: Untersuchung über eine urtümliche Krankheitserklärung, FF Communications, 178 (Helsinki: Suomalainen Tiedeaktemia, 1959).

*Honko, Lauri, ‘Memorates and the Study of Folk Beliefs’, Journal of the Folklore Institute, 1 (1964), 1–19. Seems to be a classic functionalist piece.

*Honko, Lauri, Geisterglaube im Ingermanland, FF Communications, 185 (Helsinki, 1962). Cited DuBois 1999, 102 without specific ref re Eflshot/stic. 42 re dwarf-shot.

*Honko, Lauri, ‘Traditions in the Construction of Cultural Identity and Strategies of Ethnic Survival’, European Review, 3 (1995), 131–46.

*Hooke, D., ‘Pre-Conquest Woodland: Its Distribution and Usage’, Agricultural History Review, 37 (1989), 113–29.

Hooke, Della, ‘The Anglo-Saxon Landscape of North Gloucestershire’, The Friends of Deerhurst Church Seventh Annual Lecture, 8th September 1990 (XXXXX)

Hooke, Della, 'The Anglo-Saxons in England in the Seventh and Eighth Centuries: Aspects of Location in Space', in 1997 Hines ed. migration book, pp. 64-99. 'In general, local place-names, as witnessed in Wales, Cornwall or Brittany, are likely to reflect the speech of the majority of the local people' (68). Okay, but not necessarily causal relationship here--what if place-names and the speech of majority of local peope is likely to reflect the speech of aristocrats for example? In the discussion of this paper, Powlesland suggests: 'POWLESLAND: It's very interesting that two examples of stōw and tūn [supposedly late pn els] are both represented by significant early Anglo-Saxon settlements (West Stow, Suffolk, and Heslerton, Yorkshire) that are not actually at the location of those place-names. // DUMVILLE: We presumably have to be careful about assuming that when the shuffle takes place the place-name either does or does not go with the shuffle. // POWLESLAND: These might support the idea than [sic] when they shuffle, they rename' (94).

Hoops, Johannes, Über die altenglischen Pflanzennamen (Freiburg, 1889). 49 re ælfþone and dweorge-dwostle. ‘ælfþone swf. “Albranke” (-þone swf.=Dohne, Ranke, Schlinge) ist der ae. Name des bittersüssen Nachtschattens (Solanum dulcamara L.) Die Pflanze war, wie schon der Name sagt, ein Albenkraut und ein wichtiges Mittel gegen Albdruck und Besessenheit. (Vgl. Lb. III, 62. 64. Perger, Pflanz. 182) Diese abergläubische Verehung des bittersüssen Nachtschattens schient allen germ. Stämmen gemeinsam zu sein, wie eine Vergleichung der Names beweist: nhd. alfrankenm alpranken, alpkraut (Pritz. Jess. 381); ndl. alfsranken; ähnlich norw. troldbær, schwed. trullbär (Nemn. II, 1316)’ (49). Discusses þung 83–84. NB the wedeberge gloss includes þung as an option too. Good.

Hopkins, Lisa, ‘Hamlet Smokes Prince: 101 Reykjavík on Page and Screen’, Adaptation, 1 (2008), 140–50.

*Hoppál, Mihály, ‘Linguistic and Mental Modes for Hungarian Folk Beliefs’, Myth and Mentality: Studies in Folklore and Popular Thought, ed. by Anna-Leena Siikala, Studia Fennica: Folkloristica, 8 (Helsinki, 2002), pp. 50–66.

Horden, Peregrine and Nicholas Purcell, The Corrupting Sea: A Study of Mediterranean History (Oxford: Blackwell, 2000). 9–25 thinking about what is the Med and is it a useful category? Stuff re tension between dominance conceptions of Europe & otherness etc. May be salutary re ASE etc.--makes you think about really defining your areas of study. Distinguish between history of and history in. ‘Europe has never been an unambiguously bounded geographical expression, and its modern historiographies reflect the fact. Between the age of the Vikings and that of Gustavus Adolphus the Scandinavian world was perhaps of relatively little consequence for other European states. Synoptic histories of Europe can almost be forgiven for dealing with it only briefly and circumspectly’ (16). ‘Alongside “orientalism”, in other words, can be set the comparable ideology of “Mediterraneanism” .’ (20). The chapter functions to argue that the current disintegrated view of the Mediterranean doesn’t work for earlier periods, but it might serve Fiona as a survey of how it’s seen as disintegrated today. 28ff. re ‘The Romantic Mediterranean’ also possibly useful.

Discuss historical ecology 45–49: ‘Finally, we must state our preference for a broadly ecological model in interpreting the kind of Mediterranean history that concerns us: history of, not just in, the region. But we must take this earliest opportunity of making clear the model’s heuristic limitations and the extent of our reliance on it’ (45). ‘Ecology is the scientific study of the relationship between living organisms and the animate and inanimate environment. There is as little space in it for, on the one hand, simple environmental determinism (now, fortunately, both theoretically and empirically discredited) as for vague popular concern with pollution on the other’ (45). Discuss the classic in the field: Roy Rappaport, Pigs for the Ancestors, 1st ed. 1968 with much expanded second edn 1984. Many problems. ‘And none of the available theories of “ethno-ecology” (native understanding of the environment), “cognitive factors”, structures of decision-making, food systems or similar abstractions, seems adequate to the task of fully assimilating cultural to scientific explanation—certainly in the ecological sphere ... Just as there is (or has been) a new archaeology, so also there is a “new ecology” which involves dynamic evolution, the ecology of nature’s ineluctable contingency. Such an ecology concerns itself with instabilities, disequilibria and chaotic fluctuations (zimmerer 1994). It is thus opposed to the older systems of ecology, with its concepts of competitive exclusion and niche specialisation. In this older ecology homeostatic ideas of systems adaptation became teleological, changes could not be explatined, and thre was no historical dimension. The “new ecology”, on the other hand, sees no possibility of estimating generalized carrying capacity, because of local and temporal variability ... But to enumerate these chaos-inducing factors is not to incorporate them into a coherent model. It is merely to confirm that the historical ecology of the Mediterranean cannot, in the end, however “new” it becomes, stand as a scientific pursuit. The dynamics and flux of social allegiances and ordered behaviour in the Mediterranean region will defy scientific modelling. Historical ecology, as opposed to other kinds, will therefore investigate these processes in a different spirit. The study of them may clearly be enhanced by frequent invocation of the natural ecologist’s terms, procedures and self-reinventions. But without sustained attention to what is distinctively historical about the place of himanity within the environment, and particularly to the complexity of human interaction across large distances, the study of the Mediterranean past will ultimately not have advanced very far beyond Plato’s simile of the frogs round a pond’ (49). 53–54 further programmatic discussion.

77–80 (et passim) get into the idea of ‘la trame du monde’ (‘the weave of the world’s surface’), co-opted from Briot 1964, 3. In the med the weave is very fine, ie. small microregions. ‘Our definition of the microecology, therefore, is a locality (a “definite place”) with a distinctive identity derived from the set of available productive opportunities and the particular interplay of human responses to them found in a given period. It is not the solid geology or the characteristics of the climatic zone, the relief or the drainage, that of themselves define microecologies. It is rather the interaction of opportunities: for animal husbandry, foraging, hunting, intensive agriculture, forest management, horticulture, fishing, or whatever—and, as the final but by no means the least ingredient, for engagement in larger networks of redistribution’ (80).

‘For our immediate purpose,indeed,neither route nor town is a particularly helpful category. Both can be “dissolved” into less readily mappable kinds of microecological functioning and interaction. Like the special case of ports to which we comelater (IX.7), towns can be seen as “epiphenomenal” to larger ecological processes. Similarly, in the next chapter we shall suggest that the Mediterranean region derives unity and cohesion less from its network of routes in the Braudellian sense than from the more general connectivity of its microregions. Here, we begin the process of dissolving Febvre’s categories by considering towns. We argue that towns require an ecological history, but not one of a special kind. There is no particular quality of urban space that automatically colours belief and action within it. For our present work, a town is an address, an arena, an architectonic agglomeration: distinctive—sometimes—for the volume and density of its buildings, or the bustle and variety of its population, but not, wepropose, for the wat in which its microregions work’ (90). 101: ‘Our microecological modelanswers, then, to the direction that some urban economic history has hesitantly taken. It encourages us to conveive towns less as separate and clearly definable entities and moreas loci of contact or overlap between different ecologies. Towns are settings in which ecological processes may be intense, and in which the anthropogene effect is at its most pronounced. But they are not—or not simply by definition—more than that. And they should not be presented as conceptuallydetachable from the remainder of [102] the sprectrum of settlement types’ (101–2).

They diss central place theory. ‘This has the distinct merit in the present context of relating smaller “places” to their hinterland and larger ones to subordinate (or”tributary”) settlements. That is, it sees each settlement as part of a system. The system is interpreted as hierarchical, and the degree of centrality achieved by a place is defined in terms of the goods and services that it offers and its role as a mediator between tributaries and larger system [sic]. Thus any given place (or node) will be included in a number of overlaid—nested—larger regions. The model is indeed theoretically susceptible ofglobal extension’ (102). Diss this 102–3, partly for lack of exivence, partly because it assumes neat interconnections which aren’t necessarily there even if the evidence is good enough to detect them.

Horman, William, Vulgaria (London, 1519, repr. Oxford, 1926) [879.b.26.169]. Pretty weird—latin-English phrase book (but English printed big in repr.). 1-91 scanned (ie 1st 6 chaps), often read, with no elves. Subject heading make these the likeliest places. Way cites 1530 repr—differing text? Little / transcribed as commas: ‘He was besyde hymselfe with a fray of a sprite: or a thunder, or suche other. Attonitus fuit maligni demonis, aut fulminis, aut id genus aliorum malorum occursu’ (71, sub ‘De animi affectibus’). ‘There is no man, that wyll dwell in that house, for it is full of yll spiritis. Eius domus, cultus desertus est: quod laruarum ambagibus obnoxia est’ (90, sub the same). Sub de impietate (lots re dodgy supersititions here): ‘The fayre hath chaunged my childe. Strix vel lamia pro meo, suum paruulum supposuit’ (39). ‘Charmes seme to haue effecte by the feblenesse of feythe. Carmina videntur operari, ex infirmorum affectu’ (41). ‘Goostis trouble walkers in the nyght tyme. Laruæ inquietant noctu ambulantes’ (41). ‘Pristhod’ 17, 35—ev. re great vowel shift? prest 35.

*Horn, Wilhelm, ‘Der altenglische Zauberspruch gegen Hexenschuß’, in Festschrift Johannes Hoops zum 60. Geburtstag, ed. by Wolfgang Keller (Heidelberg, 1925), pp. 88-104 [775.c.91.207] ‘The only full-length article on the charm is Wilhelm Horn … He claims that the first seventeen lines are older than the rest, and that the whole charm gains its force mainly from the power of iron, in most cultures, to break spells and protect against spirits. He sees a progression in the strength of the iron weapons referred to: arrow, little knifte, little spear, war-spear’ (Chickering 1971, 85, n. 3).

Hornblower, Simon and Antony Spawforth, The Oxford Classical Dictionary, 3rd rev. ed. (2003)

*Horner, Shari, The Discourse of Enclosure: Representing Women in Old English Literature (Albany, NY?XXXX, 2001). Doesn’t look great…

*Horst, Georg Conrad, Dämonomagie oder Geschichte des Glaubens an Zauberei (Frankfurt am Main, 1818) [sp coll A1-b.51-52]. II, 252-63 includes 17 cases of witches deploying elves, says Edward 1994, 22.

Horstmann, Carl (ed.), The Early South-English Legendary or Lives of Saints I: MS. Laud, 108, in the Bodleian Library, Early English Text Society, 87 (London: Trübner, 1887). ‘MS. Laud 108 stands independent from all other MSS. It is the oldest of all existing MSS., and precedes MSS. Harl. and Ashm. by 10-20 years, being written about 1280-90: several authorities I have consulted agree with me in that date’ (x).

NB its same MS as havelok and King Horn. Recent work on MS as a result?

Høst, Gerd, ‘Til Sigtuna og Canterbury formlene’, Norsk tidsskrift for sprogvidenskap, 16 (1952), 342–47

Hostetter, Carl F., ‘Over Middle-Earth Sent unto Men: On the Philological Origins of Tolkien’s Earendil Myth’, Mythlore: A Journal of J. R. R. Tolkien, C. S. Lewis, Charles Williams, and the Genres of Myth and Fantasy Studies, 17 (1991), 5–10 XXXXcheck.

Hough, Carole, ‘The Earliest Old English Place-Names in Scotland’, Notes and Queries, 43 (1997), 148–50.XXXXcheck.

Hough, Carole, ‘The Place-Name Cabus (Lancashire)’, Notes and Queries, 47 (2000), 288–91. Might be useful re Cambois. But wasn’t.

Hough, Carole, ‘P-Celtic Tref in Scottish Place-Names’, Notes and Queries, 48 (2001), 213–15. tref appears in Sctland in both intial and final position. In different patterns depending on region. Erk! But always, she reckons, the generic (214). ‘It may therefore be relevant that the structure of toponyms from the Celtic languages underwent a major change during the period from which the Cumbric names are believed to date. The usual element order in Celtic place-names from about the sixth century onwards is generic followed by specific. Previously, however, the specific was followed by the generic as in Germanic place-names. [citing LHEB 1957 edn 225–7] This is the general pattern in Romano-British toponymy, seen in such names as Cambodunum ‘fort at the bend’, Letocetum ‘grey wood’, Moridunum ‘sea fort’, Pennocrucium ‘?chief mound’ Senomagus ‘old market’. Thus the oft-repeated view that the occurrence of tref in final position “is quite uncharacteristic of Celtic place-nomenclature” in fact applies only to post-sixth-century Celtic place-nomenclature. It is perfectly possible that the use of tref as a second element in historical Pictland may reflect an early practice predating the use of *pett, which—since it only occurs as a first element—cannot have become popular until after the reversal of element order in the sixth century. I suggest [215] that the reason tref does not occur as a first element in Pictland is because it had gone out of use in this area by that date’ (214–15).

Hough, Carole, ‘Place-Name Evidence for an Anglo-Saxon Animal Name: OE *pohha/*pocca “fallow deer” ’, Anglo-Saxon England, 30 (2001), 1–14.

Hough, Carole, ‘Women in English Place-Names’, in ‘Lastworda Betst’: Essays in Memory of Christine E. Fell with her Unpublished Writings, ed. by Carloe Hough and Katie Lowe (Donington, 2002), pp. 41–106.

Hough, Carole, 'Place-Name Evidence for Anglo-Saxon Plant-Names', in ''From Earth to Art, the Many Aspects of the Plant-world in Anglo-Saxon England: Proceedings of the First ASPNS Symposium, University of Glasgow, 5–7 April 2000'', ed. by Carole Hough, Costerus New Series, 148 (Amsterdam and New York: Rodopi, 2003), pp. 41-78 (pp. 54-55).

Hough on dwerryhouse XXXX

Hough, Carole, ‘The (Non?)-Survival of Romano-British Toponymy’, Neuphilologische Mitteilungen, 105 (2004), 25–32. Essentially argues that it was translated into OE, appearing as a large stratum of topographical names in OE which are imagined to be early.

*van Houts, Elisabeth, Memory and Gender in Medieval Europe, 900–1200 (Toronto: XXXX, 1999). 1–16 app overview re importance of women in transmitting social memory, and more generally of laity as opposed to monks. ‘That the male gender seemingly had a louder voice and mightier pen is a foregone conclusion. That women informed men, stimulated men and actively collaborated with men to make sure that the past was not forgotten is a new concept’ (2). Horizon of 3-4 generaltions (90-120 years?); ‘The family context is by far the most outstanding characteristic of the study of memory in the central Middle Ages’ (6).

*van Houts, Elisabeth, ‘Introduction: Medieval Memories’, in Medieval Memories: Men, Women and the Past, 700–1300, ed. by Elisabeth van Houts (Harlow: Longman, 2001), pp. 1–16, yeah, emphs women’s role in transmitting genealogical information as probably do other articles in the collection tho’ they’re not on germane areas.

Howe, John M., ‘The Conversion of the Physical World: The Creation of a Christian Landscape’ in Varieties of Religious Conversion in the Middle Ages, ed. by James Muldoon (Gainesville /Tallahassee/Tampa/Boca Raton/Pensacola/Orlando/Miami/Jacksonville: University Press of Florida 1997), pp. 63-78. ‘From the beginning, Christians saw non-Christian sacred space as potentially or actually demonic. In Mark’s Gospel, Christ proclaims, “The Kingdom of God is at hand” and then exorcises a possessed man, commanding the unclean spirit who had cried out, “Jesus of Nazareth, Art thou come to destroy us?” to “Speak no more and go” (Mark 1:15-26), Mark describes sixteen more exorcisms. As territory is reclaimed from spirits of evil, the Kingdom of God becomes immanent. Little wonder then that the desert fathers fought monstrous demons who looked suspiciously like Egyptian gods’ (66, citing MacDermot 76-80). ‘Sts. Martin of Tours, Benedict, and Boniface chopped down sacred trees in the West; John of Ephesus did so in the East. In fact, the destruction of sacred groves became so common in the Carolingian world that synods legislated the appropriate procedures [Concilium Francofurtense 43, ed. Monumenta Germaniae Historica: Concilia 2 (1):170]. As Christianity expanded, demonic territory contracted. According to Walafrid Strabo, when St. Gall built his hermit hut at Lake Constance, the fleeing demons moaned that they would soon have no place left to them on earth [Walafrid Strabo, Vita Galli 1.12, ed. Monumenta Germaniae Historica: Scriptores Rerum Merovingicarum 4:293-94]. // Unless wilderness springs, wells, forests, and mountains were specifically claimed for Christ, their pagan resonances remained. The canons of local councils and the penitentials, all the way up through the time of [p.67] Burchard of Worms in the early eleventh century, repeat injunctions against going “to temples, to fountains, to tres, or to cells”; they forbit leaving offerings, candles, “little houses,” etc. [long note] Bishop Atto of Vercelli (d. 964) had to admonish even his priests against visiting groves and springs. The chronicler Rodulfus Glaber (d. ca. 1047) made no secret of his own belief in the demons who inhabited such places. [Roduolfus Glaber, Historiae 4.8, ed. John France (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1989), 185] Miracle stories tell how people encountered evil spirits associated with certain plants or geographical features. [For example, note the demon who inhabited the thermal baths at Aachen before Pepin III and Charlemagne developed the place, who is mentioned in Notker the Stammerer, Charlemagne 15, trans. Lewis Thorpe in Two Lives of Charlemagne (Baltimore: Penguin Books 1969), 160-61, or the demons in the Vienne who had to be banished by St. Martial, who are described in his vita 15, ed. Laurentius Surius, De Probatis Sanctorum Vitis, 4th ed., 12 vols. (Cologne 1618), 6:369]’ (66-7).

Howe, Nicholas, ‘Aldhelm’s Enigmata and Isidorian Etymology’, Anglo-Saxon England, 14 (1985), 37–59. 40, re ‘Etymological riddles based on Isidore’, ie where Isidore’s etymology provides the basis or clue for the riddle, n. 11 says ‘I include only those riddles which seem clearly derived from Isidore’s etymologies. For other, less certain, examples, see ... ‘Elleborus’ (Enigmata no. xcviii), cf. lines 6–7 and Etym. xvii. ix.24.’ (40 n. 11).

Howe, Nicholas, Migration and Mythmaking in Anglo-Saxon England (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1989)

Howe, Nicholas, ‘The Cultural Construction of Reading in Anglo-Saxon England’, in The Ethnography of Reading, ed. by Jonathan Boyarin (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1993), pp. 58–79; repr. in Old English Literature: Critical Essays, ed. by R. M. Liuzza (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2002), pp. 1–22.

Howlett, David, ‘Hellenic Learning in Insular Latin: An Essay on Supported Claims’, Peritia, 12 (1998), 54–78. Re Royal 2. A.XX notes that MS ‘contains some prayers composed by the Cambro-Latin writer Moucan in 656 with refs. (59). Mine is 2nd prayer after the end of Orationes Moucani. ‘This is not “abominably-spelt” Greek’, vs Stevenson 1995, CSinASE 14, 18 n. 34. NB transliterates satanae as σαταναε so seems to think it’s greek inflection. ‘In this we see features common in written Greek of the early Byzantine period’ (60, with eg.s) ‘Note in the last sentence words from all tres linguae sacra, σαταναε from Hebrew XXXX, Greek διαβυλυσ, Latin adiuro te, as well as Old English ælf ‘elf, comparable with the Hebrew, Greek, Latin, as well as Old Irish of the Auraicept’ (60). Howlett suggested for this approach a parallel in the CXXXX Old Irish Auraicept na n-Éces, in which justification is made for the placing of Gædhealg (‘Gaelic’) beside ‘Eabra » Greic » Laitin’ for clerical use (ed. Calder 1917, 2–6; Howlett 1998, 60).

Howlett, D. R., The English Origins of Old French Literature (Dublin, 1996). Lots of very questionable stylistic analyses. Very little connected prose, mighty odd book. What does Jim think of it? ‘Note specifically that these forms of composition differ radically from the oral poetry alleged to have existed before them. One might perceive orally the number of lines, words, or syllables in an unwritten work, but no one can aurally perceive the number of letters, especially in an orthographic system like the [sic] French’ (163). Oh dear. But seems to claim interestingly that in every genre, AN lit gets in first and never seems to derive from OFr (162).

HRUNIÐ, þið munið: Gagnabanki um samtímasögu, ed. by Guðni Th. Jóhannesson and Jón Karl Helgason (Reykjavík: Háskóli Íslands, 2014--), https://hrunid.hi.is/.

*Hufford, David J., ‘Rational Scepticism and the Possibility of Unbiased Folk Belief Scholarship’, Talking Folklore, 9 (1990), 19-33

*Hufford, David J., The Terror that Comes in the Night: An Experience-Centred Study of Supernatural Assault Traditions (Philadelphia, 1989) (given in Davies 1997 as 1982XXXX). Will have refs to earlier work which may be importy. Also cited in Cowan and Henderson.

Hufnagel, Silvia V., 'Sörla saga sterka': Studies in the Transmission of a Fornaldarsaga (Copenhagen: University of Copenhagen, Faculty of Humanities, 2012)

Hufnagel Silvia, 'Texts and Contexts: Bjarni Pétursson and His Saga Manuscript Lbs 2319 4to (1727–1729)', Scandinavian Studies, 88 (2016), 393–422, {{DOI|10.5406/scanstud.88.4.0393}} https://www.jstor.org/stable/10.5406/scanstud.88.4.0393

Hufnagel, Silvia, 'The Library of the Genius: The Manuscript Collection of Rasmus Christian Rask', Tabularia: Sources écrites des mondes normands. Autour des sagas: manuscrits, transmission et écriture de l’histoire (17 November 2016), https://doi.org/10.4000/tabularia.2666.

*Hughes, Kathleen, ‘Evidence for Contacts between the Churches of the Irish and English from the Synod of Whitby to the Viking Age’, England before the Conquest: Studies in Primary Sources Presented to Dorothy Whitelock, ed. by Peter Clemoes and Kathleen Hughes (Cambridge, 1971), pp. 49–67.

Hughes, Shaun F. D., 'Klári saga as an Indigenous Romance', in Romance and Love in Late Medieval and Early Modern Iceland: Essays in Honor of Marianne Kalinke, ed. by Kirsten Wolf and Johanna Denzin, Islandica, 54 (Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University Library, 2008), pp. 135-63, http://cip.cornell.edu/DPubS?service=UI&version=1.0&verb=Display&handle=cul.isl/1242914143.

Huld, Martin E. Huld, "ENGLISH WITCH"; Michigan Germanic Studies 5,1(1979):36-39. Basically argues, not at all thoroughly, that witch isn’t cognate with witega or with weoh (his preferred of these two) but with wacian, weccan etc. ‘cos it’s about waking the dead. Hmm.

Huld, Martin E., 'On the Heterclitic Declension of Germanic Divinities and the Status of the Vanir', Studia Indogermanica Lodziensia, 2 (1998), 136--46. Tolley 2009, I 209 says: 'The most perceptive comments about the etymologies of áss, álfr and vanr have been offered by Huld (1998): surveying all the forms in Germanic languages, he concludes that the u-stem affiliation of the Norse áss is a later feature, and that it belonged originally to a heteroclitic declension, a-stmm in the singular and i-stem in the plural (cf. Old English os, gen. pl. esa), which Old English forms show an i-stem plural); he notes that i-stem plurals of this sort characterise ethnonyms, such as Old English Dene, 'Danes', and implies the concept of æsir and álfar living in human-type communities. Huld sees áss as an Indo-European so-derivative from the stem *H₂en-H₁-, 'breathe', hence 'spirit'. As an a-stem, the ancestral Germanic form of áss, *ansaz, would be homophonically identical to the word for 'beam', at least in the singular' (209).

Hull, Vernam (ed. and trans.), ‘De Gabáil in tSída’, Zeitschrift für celtische Philologie, 19 (1933), 53-58. Clearest statement of 1st invaders of Ireland making peace with the gods (so I have written, on some prior authority now forgotten). 2 MSS, the earlier being Book of Leinster. Same content. ‘As Professor Thurneysen has already pointed out, the text in the Book of Leinster must be very archaic, for apart from the terseness of the style which is so characteristic of the earliest Irish sagas, it contains a series of linguistic forms that point to its composition at least as early as the ninth century’ (54). From the foretales to TBC. About how the Dagda apportions fairy mounds to everyone and destroys corn and milk of sons of Míl until they make peace. Nothing about being gods.

Hulme, Hilda. 1958. ‘The English Language as a Medium of Literary Expression’, Essays in Criticism, 8: 68–78. 'BETWEEN language and literature, in the minds of many, a great gulf yawns: language was written before Chaucer, literature was written after. London University, officially, knows better, although we have our professors as well as students who blanch at the name of Beowulf ('We warn all candidates for admission that language is half the course')' (68). ‘Only if we give up the “set-text” method and require in the translation paper(s) nothing but unseen translation will it be necessary for the student to submit to the discipline of learning Old English. Give up the forced march and the candidate must learn map-reading’ (1958, 74).

Hultgård, A., ‘Altskandinavische Opferrituale und das Problem der Quellen’, in The Problem of Ritual, ed. by T. Ahlbäck, Scripta Instituti Donneriani Arboensis, 15 (Stockholm, 1993), pp. 221–59.

Hultgård, Anders, ‘Från ögonvittnesskildring till retorik: Adam av Bremens notiser om Uppsalakulten i religionshistorisk belysning’, in Uppsala och Adam av Bremen, ed. by Anders Hultgård (Nora: Nya Doxa, 1997), pp. 9–50. Abstract: ‘The description of the temple and the sacrificial cult at Uppsala by Adam of Bremen is reconsidered. Adam’s text is the result of a literary process beginning with the reworking of informants’ accounts and finishing up in rhetorical embellishments. Christian polemics, ethnographic and ecclesiastical commonplaces have likewise left their mark on Adam’s text. The reliability of his account of the Uppsala sacrifices is tested against archaeological evidence and against records on similar sacrificial practices from northern Europe. It is suggested that Adam had a confused idea of the actual cult and that the role played by human sacrifices is, at best, strongly exggerated. The miracle vision im chap. 29 is interpreted as the cult legend of the foundation of the first Christian church in Uppsala’ (9).

*Hultkrantz, Åke, Vem är vem I nordisk mytologi gestalter och äventyr I Eddans gudavärld (Stockholm, 1991) Check Hultkrantz 1991 H3 HAKUTEOS 08 B 1 Hultkranz

Hultkrantz, Åke, ‘Scandinavian and Saami Religious Relationships: Continuities and Discontinuities in the Academic Debate’, in Kontinuitäten und Brüche in der Religionsgeschichte: Festschrift für Anders Hultgård zu seinem 65. Geburtstag am 23. 12. 2001, ed. by Michael Stausberg, Ergänzungsbände zum Reallexicon der Germanischen Altertumskunde, 31 (Berlin: de Gruyter, 2001), pp. 412–23.

Hume, Kathryn. "Beginnings and Endings in the Icelandic Family Sagas." Modern Language Review 68/3 (1973): 593-606. 'Almost all of the sagas contain material which we instinctively feel to be 'pre-beginning' and 'post-ending'; not integral in the sense of not contributing to the conflict story, and yet apparently considered necessary according to saga aesthetic, and hence integral to the form, if not to that portion we call the plot' (593).

Hume, Kathryn, ‘The Concept of the Hall in Old English Poetry’, Anglo-Saxon England, 3 (1974), 63–74.

Hume, Kathryn, ‘From Saga to Romance: The Use of Monsters in Old Norse Literature’, Studies in Philology 77 (1980), 1–25 [mod lang per ST910]

Hunn, Eugene, ‘Place-Names, Population Density, and the Magic Number 500’, Current Anthropology, 35.1 (Feb. 1994), 81–85. Basically argues that population/square mile plotted against place-names/square mile of a particular speech community (not necessarily of an individual in that community though) comes out at about 500 per community when dealing with subsistence communities. Communities which are nomadic over huge spaces have correspondingly spread out toponyms. 500 is a magic number in that various other folk taxonomies fit it, like basic plant names or animal names. [42 place-names on first page of Rhestr o Enwau Lleoedd, 119 pp. of place-names = 4998 names in Wales / 8022 square miles (Wikipedia) = 0.623; population density 361/square mile (Wikipedia); hmm, don’t understand his maths but this is going to be off the scale I think...]

Hunn, Eugene, ‘Columbia Plateau Indian Place-Names: What Can they Teach us?’, Journal of Linguistic Anthropology, 6 (1996), 3–26. 1996 refs to 1980s and 90s anthropological work on place-names. But they’ve been particularistic, whereas he’s keen on doing something more general. Some detailed stuff about S place-names, and adds a couple more datasets to the 1994 sample arguing they fit the pattern.

Hunt, Tony, Plant Names of Medieval England (Cambridge: Brewer, 1989).

only 1 word in his index of ME terms seems to contain elf in any form: p. 87: Consolida Media (Medieval latin term). Bellis perennis L. Daisy / Chrysanthemum leucanthemum L. Ox-Eye Daisy / Chrysanthemum segetum L. Corn Marigold / ?Ajuga reptans L. ?Bugle, “Helfringwort” / ?Symphytum tuberosum L. ?Tuberous Comfrey (Linnaeun and MnE terms).

BL Add. 15236 ff. 2r-9r c. 1300 (xix). List of synonyma closely related to list ff. 172v-187v. ‘anglice elferingeworth’

ff. 172v-187v ‘la meine consoude, elferingewort’

BL Sloane 5 ff. 4ra-12va c. 1340 (xxiii): ‘gallice la mene consoude, anglice helfringwort’

No entry for Solanum dulcamara in index of botanical terms. Nothing good under Elleborus either, except that Mugwort is Elleborus Niger (= Helleborus niger L., Heleborus foetidus L./Viridis L.), p. 106.

Many synonyms and denotees for Mugwort.

Hunt, T., Popular Medicine in Thirteenth-Century England: Introduction and Texts (Cambridge, 1990), 80-1 re nightmares etc. apparently; no, actually on inspection 3 latin charms from Sloane 962 vs. demons etc, incubus angle slight. [CUL SF3 300:13.c.95.133]. ‘What has been totally lacking is a study of thethirteenth century when midcal knowledge began to be disseminated in the vernacular’ (ix). A conspectus of C12 AN medical material. Kind of cool book but not v. relevant to me I don’t think.

Hunwick, John O., ‘A Region of the Mind: Medieval Arab Views of African Geography and Ethnography and Their Legacy’, Sudanic Africa, 16 (2005), 103-36 [available online: https://org.uib.no/smi/sa/16/16Hunwick.pdf]

*Husband, Timothy, The Wild Man: Medieval Myth and Symbolism (New York, 1980)

Hussey, Trevor and Patrick Smith, ‘The Uses of Learning Outcomes’, Teaching in Higher Education, 8 (2003), 357-68, DOI: 10.1080/13562510309399. Also at http://www.itslifejimbutnotasweknowit.org.uk/Files/CPLHE/THEHusseyPSCurric.pdf.

Abstract This paper argues that learning outcomes need to be reclaimed from their current use as devices for monitoring and audit, and returned to their proper use in aiding good teaching and learning. We require a broader, flexible and more realistic understanding of learning outcomes, better suited to the realities of the classroom and of practical use to those teachers who wish to respond to the enthusiasm of their students. To this end, a new model is produced that starts from the idea of an articulated curriculum, and embraces both intended and emergent learning outcomes. The model employs the distinction between predicted and unpredicted learning outcomes, together with the distinction between those that are desirable and those that are undesirable. The resulting account is intended to aid understanding of the nature and proper use of learning outcomes in teaching and learning.

Shifting more control over to students is a high-risk strategy, teachers run the risk of being accused of indecisiveness, lack of direction or perhaps missing important topics, and students of not knowing what they are supposed to be doing and of becoming alienated. There is far more safety in the teacher retaining control, and dictating the pace and direction of progress through the content. Student-responsive learning is less predictable and less trackable. In an age that seeks to quantify and measure, it represents an unwise option; far safer and more respectable to stick with a teacher-centred pedagogy in which outcomes can be safely pre-specified, tracked and measured. Such a vision, however, is palpably at odds with the realities of the classroom. [360]

The idea, currently popular—that first year degree students must describe, second year students must explain and evaluation should characterise their work in the third year—must be replaced with the idea that these activities are visited and revisited as the students progress and in accordance with the requirements of the subject matter. [362]

We have argued (Hussey & Smith, 2002) that the concept of learning outcomes has become so entangled with notions of specificity, transparency and measurability as to become largely irrelevant to classroom activities and practices, as well as being unachievable. ... Institutions back themselves into the most remarkable corners of what is and what is not acceptable at which level, such as bans on the use of the verb ‘analyse’ at first-year level, or ‘comprehend’ at third-year level, and the complete expunging of the verb ‘understand’ from any level. [367]

Hutcheson, B. R., ‘Kaluza’s Law, the Dating of Beowulf, and the Old English Poetic Tradition’, Journal of English and Germanic Philology, 103 (2004), 297–322. Basically argues that Kaluza’s law works for some late poems, so that we either have formulaic continuity, or archaic register, or both. Still reckons that it shouldn’t stretch beyond C9 though. Fair enough.

Hutton, Ronald, ‘The Global Context of the Scottish Witch-Hunt’, in The Scottish Witch-Hunt in Context, ed. by Julian Goodare (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2002), pp. 16–32. Eminently citable not only as important re breadth of comparison, but necessity of time-depth (which anthropological work tends to lack—cf. Nevalainen on historical sociolinguistics). Based on a survey of 100 studies of all round the globe—nice approach. ‘A second conclusion is that the studies reveal the existence of a very widespread belief in the figure to which the name of witch is traditionally given in English, despite all the differences of cultures, languages and mentalities. It is found in every inhabited continent of the world, and is identified by a combination of five major characteristics. First, it defines a person who uses apparently supernatural means to cause uncanny misfortune or injury to others. Second, this person works to harm neighbours or kin rather than strangers; she or he is a threat to other members of a community. Third, this person works not for straightforward material gain but from envy or malice. She or he is either inherently evil or is in the grip of ab inherently evil force. Fourth, the appearance of such a figure is not an isolated or unique event. The witch works in a tradition, either by inheritance, training or initiation. Fifth, this person can be opposed by fellow humans, either by using counter-magic, or by forcing her or him to rescind their own magic, or by eliminating her or him directly’ (19). ‘Almost as widespread is the presence in tribal societies of witch doctors, in the original sense of the expression: individuals who specialise in detecting and removing the magical harm inflicted by witches, often serving a community and often working for payment’ (19). ‘A fourth major conclusion which may be drawn from that sample is that the stereotype of the witch is worldwide butnot universal. … there are plenty of tribal peoples across the world who do not believe that humans can work destructive magic. This is because they have alternative explanations for misfortune, usually that it is inflicted by angry or evil spirits, either of the natural world or of ancestors, who must be propitiated or defeated’ (20). ‘A further insight furnished by the ethnographic studies is that cosmologies do not have to be coherent mental constructions. All tribal peoples who believed in witchcraft also took other forms of supernatural agency, such as deities, ancestral spirits, animal spirits and spirits of the land, into consideration. Only particular kinds of misfortune were attributed to witches. What was important in making that attribution was the practical result, in explaining or providing means of action in what were often literally matters of life and death. The fact that the theoretical origins and operation of witchcraft seemed in some places to be odds with general presumptions about the workings of deities and spirits, did not trouble the people concerned. This needs to be borne in mind when trying to resolve the apparent complexities and contradictions in beliefs concerning Christianity, fairies and witches, among early modern European commoners’ (22).

‘A longer backwards projection, however, reveals that modernity is actually unique in its attitudes to magic, while the early and high Middle Ages represented a remarkable hiatus in the prosecution of witchcraft. In this sense the early modern trials were business as usual’ (24, declares in under-research but NBs Cohn 1975). ‘The hiatus in the Middle Ages is explicable a single solvent force, Christianity, which ended witch trials in every society in which it was adopted as the official religion’ due to idea that if it’s all from god then it’s always down to him (24); Nbs changing law-codes (24–25), incl. Charlemagne being well down on Old Saxons witch trying. Does Xian theology buckle and revert to underlying old beliefs? Or do internal changes bring it into convergence? (25). ‘There is no sign that early modern European commoners had to be re-educated to denounce each other as witches; in most cases they were clearly acting on existing beliefs. The ancient images, therefore, really matter’ (25). Why women? More likely to conduct confrontations in words than violence; witchy crimes assoc with areas of women’s work, which are also v. vulnerable; inversion of power in real life; functioning to inhibit female nonconformity to male hierarchy (with refs) (25). but emphs diachronic perspective—it’s a dead old thing too. 25-26. NBs how Iceland goes in for men only in trials—even tho’ virtually identical society to Scotland. ‘To a historian of Britain, this comes, or should come, as a bombshell’—all that other stuff is conditioning, not causal (26–27, at 27). Nice point. Finland too. Why? Shamanism, he reckons (27). No witches in any part of Siberia, even tho’ it’s huge and diverse. They go for fairies/spritis etc. instead (27–28). Shamans deal with ‘em, almost always male. Reckons Saami infl. on Finland and Iceland—tho’ mangling of Icelandic saga-titles painful (27–29). Discusses the shamanism theory, and kind of buys it but has interesting angles—reread? (29–31). ‘As for the Scottish fairy queen, the Wild Hunt, the hosts of Diana, and the other nocturnal phenomena included in his dossier, they may reflect a common prehistoric heritage of shamanism; but this suggestion is, by its very nature, immune to proof’ (31). Hmm… 31–32 goes for fairy belief in Highlands and Islands, and Gaelic Ireland as reason for dearth of trials. Fair enough, but beware the celticity trap.

Hyllested, Adam, 'Saami Loanwords in Old Norse', NOWELE, 54-55 (2008), 131–145. doi:10.1075/nowele.54-55.04hyl.

I

Illingworth, R. N., ‘Celtic Tradition and the Lai of Yonec’, Études Celtiques, 9 (1960–61), 501–20. Re Marie de france. Basically a synthesis of Cross and Ogle. 504–11 re bird lover bit, finding the begetting of Conaire in Togail Bruidne Da Derga to be a sound parallel (504–8) (Ed/tr. RC 22 1901, ed E. Knott Medieval and Modern Irish Series 8 (Dublin 1936).). And the poem Snám De Én (ed/tr E. Gwynn, Metrical Dindshenchas 4 1924 352–5) (508–10). Only the former seems to have anything very like rape. Couldn’t Marie have known the Leda and Swan story, I wonder? The focus on the bird angle not so handy for my purposes.

Illington, R. N., ‘Celtic Tradition and the Lai of Guigemar’, Medium Aevum, 31 (1962), 176–87. Re maire de france.

'In praise of Iceland', The Financial Times, February 3, 2009 7:45 pm http://www.ft.com/intl/cms/s/0/57c4e1d8-f22a-11dd-9678-0000779fd2ac.html#axzz2zMTbopdL

Impey, Chris David, Martin Formanek, Sanlyn Rebecca Buxner, Matthew C. Wenger, 'Twenty Seven Years of Tracking Undergraduate Science Knowledge and Beliefs', ''Electronic Journal of Science Education'', Vol. 21, No. 4 (2017), 41-64. http://ejse.southwestern.edu/article/view/17315/11409. 'Adult Americans encounter science in a variety of informal settings such as museums and science centers, TV or cable programs, and videos on the Internet. The lifetime exposure to science in free choice settings probably dominates the limited amount of time these people have spent in a science classroom (Falk & Dierking, 2010; Falk & Needham, 2013). As students eschew traditional, authoritative sources like books, the primary source of science information is rapidly shifting to the Internet. Data from the NSF’s series Science and Engineering Indicators show that as a primary source information about science and technology, use of newspapers has declined from 17% to 7% and use of television has declined from 44% to 25% between 2001 and 2014, while use of the Internet has increased from 10% to 47%. The Internet is even more dominant as the primary source of information for particular scientific issues, growing from 44% to 68%, while newspapers and television languish below 15% (National Science Board, 2016). Wikipedia dominates as an online destination (Bateman & Logan, 2010; Okoli, Mehdi, Mesgari, Nielsen, & Lanamaki, 2014), leading to an attempt to improve the content as a vehicle for science literacy (Wikipedia, 2016).' (p. 44)

Inga Dóra Björnsdóttir, `The Mountain Woman and the Presidency', in Images of Contemporary Iceland: Everyday Lives and Global Contexts, ed. by Gísli Pálsson and E. Paul Durrenberger (Iowa City: University of Iowa Press, 1996), pp. 106--25. 'The historian Ólafía Einarsdóttir (1984) suggests that Vigdís Finnbogadóttir's election in 1980 is a reflection of the high regard Icelandic women enjoyed during the early settlement of Iceland. She does not attempt to explain how these ideas survived throughout the centuries or why they suddenly reemerged in 1980s, when she states that "not long ago, Icelandic farmers and fishermen demanded that a woman should become a President. Could it not have been the old ideas [i.e. about women's strength and liberty] in the national consciousness that made the Icelandic nation elect a women as a President, the first nation in the world to do so?' (Einarsdóttir 1984: 25). ... My own research also indicates that the processes that led to Finnbogadóttir's election cannot be traced as far back in Icelandic history as Einarsdóttir suggests but are more recent' (107). Very sensible. But perhaps ignores the way sagas show continuity as an influential cultural resource, different aspects of which can be activated by different groups at different times.

Ingi Freyr Vilhjálmsson, Hamskiptin: Þegar allt varð falt á Íslandi (Reykjavík: Veröld, 2014).

Ingibjörg Haraldsdóttir, Orðspor daganna (Reykjavík: Mál og menning, 1983).

*Ingstad, A. S., ‘Hva har tekstilene vært brukt til?’ in Osebergdronningens grav, ed. by A. E. Christensen, A. S. Ingstad and B. Myhre (Oslo: Schibsted, 1992), pp. 209–23.

*Ingstad, A. S., ‘The Interpretation of the Oseberg-find’, in The Ship as Symbol in Prehistoric and Medieval Scandinavia, ed. by O. Crumlin-Pedersen and B. M. Thye (Copenhagen: National Museum, 1995), pp. 138–47

Ingwersen, Niels, 'The Need for Narrative: The Folktale as Response to History', Scandinavian Studies, 67 (Winter 1995), 77-90.

Ingwersen, N., 'The Tragic Rhythm of the Scandinavian Ballad', in Cygnifiliana: Essays in Classics, Comparative Literature, and Philosophy Presented to Professor Roy Arthur Swansonon the Occasion of his Seventhy-Fifth Birthday, ed. by Chad Matthew Schroeder (New York: Peter Lang, 2005), pp. 62-71. books.google.co.uk/books?hl=en&lr=&id=A7uvKxQY05EC

Insley, John, ‘The Study of Old English Personal Names and Anthroponymic Lexika’, in Person und Name: Methodische Probleme bei der Erstellung eines Personennamenbuches des Frühmittelalters, ed. by Dieter Geuenich, Wolfgang Haubrichs and Jörg Jarnut, Ergänzungsbände zum Reallexikon der Germanischen Altertumskunde, 32 (Berlin: de Gruyter, 2002), pp. 148–76. ‘One might also add that the personal name form Diorwald (for OE Dēorweald), which froms the fisrt element of the French place-name form Dirlincthun (dép. Pas de Calais: Dioruualdingatun 865/66 [s. xii2]…[ref]) is also of Kentish origin and an indication of Kentish immigration in the ninth century into this area of France’ (153), ah, not necessarily.

*Iregren, E., ‘Under Frösö kyrka: ben från en vikingatida offerlund?’, in Arkeologi och religion, ed. by L. Larsson and B. Wyszomirska (Lund: University of Lund, 1989), pp. 119–33.

Ireland, Colin A. (ed. and trans.), Old Irish Wisdom Attributed to Aldfrith of Northumbria: An Edition of Bríatha Flainn Fhína maic Ossu, Medieval and Renaissance Texts and Studies, 205 (Tempe, AZ: Arizona Center for Medieval and Renaissance Studies, 1999). p. 52 allegedly re the Aldfrith link.

Irvine, Susan, ‘Ulysses and Circe in King Alfred’s Boethius: A Classical Myth Transformed’, in Studies in English Language and Literature: “Doubt Wisely”; Papers in Honour of E. G. Stanley, edited by M. J. Toswell and E. M. Tyler (London: Routledge, 1996), pp. 387–401. ALfred adds lots of gen to Circe story, not from known commentaries (391); most could come from AEneid and Metamorphoses (391). Cf. 387-88 re Alfred seeming to not use commentaries but know lots of stuff. Alfred totally reqorks story of Circe and Ulysses—Boethius doesn’t even mention love-affair, but for Alf that’s the point (391-2). But in Alf men are transformed into animals after the love affair’s been on for a while (392). Weird! She knows of no classical version which does this (392), though there are late medieval Fr and Sp ones (392-3) which she doesn’t reckon cd. be relevant. And Eastern folklore versions of the same tale-type where demon transofrms lover after she’s got bored of him. Hmm. Surely it’s not just a mistake—too clued for that, and repeats it in verse (393). Conflation with Calypso? (393). Alf hostile to lust generally (393). Not divine assistance for Ulysses in Alf (393). Strong Xian anti-Ulysses-tradition—Alfred influenced by it? 394-5. Alf into making characters king, and so paragons of Kingly behaviour (if sometimes what happens when you fail as king). Ulysses abuses royal duties in Circe episode for Alfred (395-6).

Irving, Edward B., Jr, ‘The Nature of Christianity in Beowulf’, Anglo-Saxon England, 13 (1984), 7–21. ‘While I know objectivity is an illusion, I begin by providing some numbers that may give us the blessed security of quantification and hold us down to earth for at least part of the time. I count approximately 178 Christian references in Beowulf’ (8),being individual words, e.g. ece Drihten counted as 2, useful for showing variable density of refs (8–9). An illusion—quite. ‘I have also somewhat overstretched my net by including words like witig, “wise”, because it is used exclusively as a divine attribute in this poem’ (9). ‘Looking at the distribution of these references will largely confirm the impressions most of us already have, but there may be a few small surprises. If we first tabulate the utterers of these Christian words, we find that it is the poet-narrator who, in his 61.7% of the poem, makes about 65% of the references. The poet is not the most Christian speaker, however; though Hrothgar’s speeches comprise only 8% of the poem, they contain nearly 17% of the religious allusions. Beowulf’s speeches make up 18% of the poem, but he makes only 13% of the Christian allusions. To restate these important differences more clearly: the narrator makes one Christian reference every sixteen lines; Hrothgar makes one every eight lines or twice and often; Beowulf makes one every twenty-four lines or only one third as often as Hrothgar’ (9). ‘These figures confirm our sense that we have in Beowulf a poem narrated by an unquestionably Christian poet who has created one outstandingly pious character in King Hrothgar, but nevertheless a poem about actions and characters much less closely involved with Christianity’ (9). Hmm, amongst other things, makes no distinction between Bwf’s early and late speeches. Takes the biblical bit on the sword hilt to go over H’s head (10). 10–14 re the Grendel~Cain end of things. ‘Some have tried to work Grendel into the rôle of involuntary agent of God in the punishment of the wicked Danes, but Grendel cannot play this conventional devil-rôle … nor indeed do the Danes need special punishment. If in the future, as seems likely, they fail to preserve a peaceful society, they will punish themselves’ (13, citing Arthur E. Du Bois, ‘The Unity of Beowulf’, PMLA, 49 (1934), 374–405. Check?). Rightly disses Hrothgar as slow off the mark, complacent that it’s right and proper for Bwf to be a god-sent saviour etc. (14; says ‘The contrast between Hrothgar and Old Beowulf is discussed in more detail in my forthcoming article, ‘What to do with Old Kings’ XXXXcheck). ‘I am suggesting that Hrothgar’s religion is that of the passive person, one who depends on God to rescue him and who even grumbles at one point that God could easily have done so earlier if he had had a mind to. We hear the unpleasant querulousness of old age here, as we never do in Beowulf’s voice. Hrothgar’s religious attitudes are emotional and volatile: he ranges from black despair to total joy at Grendel’s defeat, then is plunged into even greater despair at the death of his old friend Æschere at the hands of Grendel’s mother. When Beowulf is summoned and makes the hall-floor clatter with his decisive movements, it sets off by contrast Hrothergar’s helpless passivity: [quotes 1313b–15] [15] And his long lament that follows significantly contains not a single religious reference. This kind of passivity, however it might be seen in other Christian contexts, registers as negative on the assessing scale of the traditional heroic poet … Again the elaborate and cruel contrast set up between Hrothgar and Beowulf as old kings in affliction makes this point beyond any possible rebuttal. Furthermore, even though women in Beowulf are conventionally passive, Hrothgar’s queen Wealhtheow grapples more assertively with her problems (and her husband’s problems) than he does’ (14–15). But Bwf clocks importance of God’s help, in humility (15) and clocks god ‘as final judge of human conduct’ (15–16). Hrothgar doesn’t seem to. On portrayal of God 16–18. ‘It is a rather stark picture of God that is presented to us, a God not visualized as inhabiting a dwelling-place of his own (‘heaven’ is mentioned infrequently) and a God alone, unaccompanied by his usual werod of angels, a God seen from earth’s point of view as an absentee landlord, remote and isolated. He is fundamentally King and Battle-Leader’ (16). Different range of epithets from other Oepoetry (16). Benevolent actions to Bwf (17), light etc. ‘We should bear in mind that the light and the favour arrive only after they have already been well earned by the hero—after he has defeated the sea-monsters and after he has broken from the she-troll’s clutches and struggled to his feat’ (17). This distance of God important for tone of poem (17–18); ‘But this same sense of distance increases abruptly and quite measurably in the second part of the poem, as the density of Christian references drops off dramatically’ (18). 142 Xian res up to 1887, 36 thereafter, or 1/13 before and 1/36 after. ‘It is almost as if Beowulf’s ship had sailed out of the Christian world so richly set forth in the first part of the poem’ (18). Epic denoument of Bwf very heroic, not very patristic 19–21. ‘Now if Beowulf is indeed in the strictest sense a Christian poem with a Christian ending, one would expect an atmosphere different from this—the pessimistic world-view put to some homiletic use, perhaps; or at least one might expect the frequency of religious allusion to to fall off so sharly as the poem draws towards its end. But misguided insistence on supplying some sort of Christian ending for the poem in the face of the facts has led to unlikely assumptions and distortions. Some have tried the forcible adoption of the dragon into the race of Cain or have equated him with the dragon mentioned in Revelation xx.2, “who is the Devil and Satan” [e.g. Goldsmith 1962; in her book too?XXXX]. Yet nothing in the poem’s language supports including the dragon with monsters of the Grendel type or with devils’ (20). Yes. But Rauer’s arguments provide a neat way through this: all the suggestively Christian echoes, like the dragon, the twelve retainers etc., are coming through hagiographical dragon-fights. Sees Bwf definitely in heaven (21).

*Irving, Edward B., Jr., ‘What to Do with Old Kings’, in Comparative Research on Oral Traditions: A Memorial for Milman Parry, ed. by John Miles Foley (Columbus, Ohio: Slavica: 1987), pp. XXXXX

*Irving, Rereading ‘Beowulf’ 1989, repr. in the 90s.

Irving, Edward B., Jr., ‘Heroic Role-Models: Beowulf and Others’, in Heroic Poetry in the Anglo-Saxon Period: Studies in Honor of Jess B. Bessinger, Jr., ed. by Helen Damico and John Leyerle, Studies in Medieval Culture, 32 (Kalamazoo, MI: Medieval Institute Publications, 1993), pp. 347–72. Some nice crit of Hrothgar and Hygelac. ‘Hrothgar indeed ought to be much more of a role-model to the Danish people than he is; he seems the empty form of one, speaking the right words and fulfilling many ceremonial duties but unable to take any lead in defending his nation’—by contrast with Scyld (355). NBs importance of Scyld at the beginning: ‘All subsequent kings, Danish or foregin, will have to measure up to such an overpowering example. Only Beowulf does’ (355). As in El Cid, ‘Only when he is inspired by the example of Beowulf does Hrothgar take on the fully active role of king. And, like the Cid, Beowulf never treats Hrothgar with anything but the deepest respect’ (355–59 at 359). ‘Although Hrothgar is not himself a superb role-model he is more than ready to furnsh moral instruction to his young visitor; this is what old men do. In fact, he can use himself as material for such instruction. But we see in the case of Hrtohgar how very little saying it matters compared with doing it. In his much-discussed sermon (lines 1700–84) he uses three negative models to show Beowulf how he should behave. The first is the self-destructive Heremod; the second is the hypothetical man enriched by all God’s gifts who forgets that he is mortal and comes to a bad end; the third is Hrothgar himself, who once floated in a warm cloud of happiness before Grendel brutalized his hall. All three exempla depict forms of oferhydg (arrogance). All three are irrelevant to Beowulf. Readers have often felt that Hrothgar is here rather adjusting himself into some meaning-bestowing framework than supplying Beowulf with anything he can use. Beowulf has no need of Hrothgar as either teacher or role-model, then or ever. It is not Hrothgar that the hero seems to imitate admiringly but another king altogether’ (359). Beowulf himself thinks that Hygelac is totally great 359–60; but his one speech revolves around doubting Beowulf (360–61—not discussed in detail tho’); ‘One of the two grat events in Hygelac’s career—his piratical raid on the continent—has long been discussed in fairly critical terms. Some see it as rather a national catastrophe than a glorious event to be commemorated’ noting ll. 1205–7 (361); ‘Are we to consider a simple-minded and reckless marauder such as this a role-model of good kingship, even if Beowulf himself never criticises such behaviour?’ (361) ‘The other great event in Hygelac’s life sets him in a much better light. It is the way he acts at the battle of Ravenswood, where with great panache he rescues a trapped Geatish army and later rewards the young warriors Wulf and Eofor for their killing of the Swedish king Ongentheow (lines 2941b–98). Here he performs as a fine king, both gallant and generous. (His generosity was also seen in his lavish gifts to the returning Beowulf.) Ravenswood is an event we are presented with to judge for ourselves, and we surely judge it favourably, not listening to words but looking at actions. On the basis of these, we can say truly that it is too bad the Geats lost this good king in his prime’ (362). Beowulf himself 362– Old Beowulf uses young Beowulf as his own role-model (esp. 2349–96); and Wiglaf uses the Old Beowulf.

Irving, Zoë, 'Waving not Drowning: Iceland, Kreppan and Alternative Social Policy Futures', in Social Policy in Challenging Times: Economic Crisis and Welfare Systems, ed. by Kevin Farnsworth and Zoë Irving (Bristol: Policy, 2011), pp. 199--218. Survey of pretty familiar territory, rather overtaken be events in the 2013 election.

Irving, Z. (2012) “Seeking Refuge in the Nordic Model: Social Policy in Iceland post 2008” in M. Kilkey, G. Ramia and K. Farnsworth (eds.) Social Policy Review 24, Bristol, The Policy Press, pp 295-316. Looks to be much the same as the 2011 article.

Itkonen, Erkki, et al., Suomen sanojen alkuperä: Etymologinen sanakirja (Helsinki: Suomalaisen Kirjallisuuden Seura, 1992-)

*Ivanov, Vyacheslav V., ‘Traces of Indo-European Medical Magic in an Old English Charm’, in Interdigitations, ed. by Carr et. al. (1998), pp. 1-24.

J

Jack, George, ‘Relative Pronouns in LaXXXXamon’s Brut’, Leeds Studies in English, 19 (1988), 31-66. ‘…the influence exerted by gender on the choice of relative pronouns is greater than has previously been recognized, and the role played by animateness or inanimateness of the antecedent is rather slight’ (31). ‘Usage in the Otho text of LaXXXXamon’s Brut is very much simpler than in Caligula. In Otho þat is the only relative pronoun frequently used, for besides numerous instances of þat there are some forty-seven of þe and two of þa’ (57). More þe in early part of Otho (28 in line 1-2000; 19 in 2001-16079) (57). Unfortunatley, the real crux in our bit is with he referring to an inanimate thing.

Jack, George (ed.), Beowulf: A Student Edition (Oxford: Clarendon, 1994).

Jackson, Elizabeth, ‘ “Scáro á scíði ørlọg seggia”: The Composition of Vọlospá 20 and the Implications of the Hauksbók Variant’, Alvíssmál, 9 (1999), 73–88

*Jackson, H., Words and their Meaning (London, 1988)

Jackson, Kenneth, 'Nennius and the Twenty-Eight Cities of Britain', Antiquity, 12 (1938), 44–55.

Jackson, Kenneth Hurlstone, Language and History in Early Britain: A Chronological Survey of the Brittonic Languages, First to Twelfth Century A.D., Edinburgh University Publications, Language and Literature, 4 (Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 1953)

Jackson, Kenneth Hurlstone (trans.), A Celtic Miscellany: Translations from the Celtic Literatures, rev. ed. (Harmondsworth, 1971). ‘The Adventure of Conle’ 143-5. A bit like Þiðranda þáttr, but more upbeat. Groovy; claims C8 original. ‘Ruadh in the Land under the Wave’ 150-51 v. fragmentary trans  But interesting—fairy brides under sea, father misses tryst, as in Hrólfs saga kraka. Claims C8 original. ‘How the Fenians found the Fairy Hill’ again fragmentary trans  164-5, fairy in mound.

Jacobs, Nicholas, ‘Celtic saga and the contexts of Old English elegiac poetry’ (1989) - In: Etudes celtiques vol. 26 (1989) p. 95-142

Jacobs, Ryan, `Why So Many Icelanders Still Believe in Invisible Elves', The Atlantic (29 October 2013) http://www.theatlantic.com/international/archive/2013/10/why-so-many-icelanders-still-believe-in-invisible-elves/280783/

Jacobsen, Lis and Erik Moltke (eds), Danmarks Runeindskrifter, 3 vols (Copenhagen: Munksgaard, 1941–42)

Jacobsen, Lis and Erik Moltke, Danmarks Runeindskrifter: Registre (Copenhagen: XXXX, 1942). God knows where the rest of this is… Ordregister 64–99. siþa, v. Sp.711; 762, 766 [formlære]. siþi, m. Sp.712; 756 [formlære]. Hmm, whatever that means.

Jacobson, Mattias, Wells, Meres and Pools: Hydronymic Terms in the Anglo-Saxon Landscape, Acta Universitatis Upsalensis: Studia Anglistica Upsaliensia, 98 (Uppsala, 1997). 177–81 quick thing on lakes and springs in England—formation and character. Not really citeworthy but you might stoop to it. 26–27 on pytt—can be hydronym, as app. early on in Gmc. But ‘There is no way to be sure if pytt refers to water in OE names [27] unless ths is made clear by a preceding element in a compound such as wæter-pytt, or if topographical study in situ can reveal it’ (26–27).

Jaeger, C. Stephen, The Origins of Courtliness: Civilising Trends and the Formation of Courtly Ideals 939–1210 (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1985).

‘The flowering of literature that began in the second half of the twelfth century and maintained its vitality into the first decades of the thirteenth … was the expression of a movement aimed at taming the reckless assertiveness of the European feudal nobility, at limiting its freedom in manners and morals, at restraining individual wilfulness, and at raising this class from an archaic and primitive stage of social and civil life to a higher stage, imbuing it with ideals of modesty, humanity, elegance, restraint, moderation, affability, and respectfulness’ (3). Differentiated from C15 lit. 939 Brun comes to court of Otto the Great and gets into cathedral schools for nobles etc. 1210 Gottfried von Strassburg dies. Historiog impact of Norbert Elias 5-9.

‘The new requirements of court service which emerged from the particular circumstances of the Ottonian-Salian court chapel produced an ethic of state servce based, not on conventional notions of the episcopacy, but rather on the education and values of the courtier [25] bishop. It reflects the hybrid nature of that figure: both imperial courtier and prelate. This ethic and its native context—the court service of educated clerics—shapes an ideal courtier, a figure that in many ways is the prototype of the Renaissance courtier. Some of the conceptions of this ethic were to surface in the etiquette of courtoisie in vernacular literature, projected onto the figure of the chivalric knight’ (24-5).

36-42 on mansuetudo: ‘Mansuetudo is a gentleness of spirit, a placid, benevolent passivity shown to friends and enemies alike. Associated virtues are humilitas, patientia, and modestia. The vir mansuetus suffers abuse without murmuring; he knows no anger or resentment’ (36). Hmm, just like Gunnarr or Njáll. ‘The development in ethics which marks the civilizing of Europe perhaps more clearly than any other is the gradual filtering of this virtue through the ranks of the lay nobility. Mansuetudo is the civic virtue par excellence. Its opposite vices, wrathfulness and vengefulness, entangle societies and social groups in destructive networks of conflict and make impossible the peace and tolerance necessary for civilized interaction. Mansuetudo is one of the dominant themes of medieval ethical writings: be slow to anger, tolerate wrongs for the sake of a more distant goal, do not seek revenge. Gottfried [38] von Strassburg made the opening episode of his Tristan into a mirror of this virtue, showing how the father of the hero is brought low because of his inability to accept wrongs and to compromise with the men around him, The relevance of such preaching to a hot-headed, ungovernable chivalric class is evident’ (37-8). Works for the 4 Branches too.

Knight disses Ailred in his vita; ‘But that a knight is assigned the tole of boorish slanderer is significant both in the sociology of court life in the twelfth century and in the context of the cleric’s biography. In this scene the Christian/classical virtues of mansuetudo, patientia and humilitas, borne by eloquentia, are transformed into weapons of the active life, instruments for asserting a superior form of humanity over the rough-cut warrior boorishness of the knight’ (39). Hmm, this would work for Bwf to some extent too of course, tho’ less humility there! Modesty and self-denial, calculated underplaying of talents to magnify impressiveness when revealed in Gottfried’s Tristan 40-2.

102 has annoying ‘Celtic fairy tale landscapes’. Gah! 102 and 106 seems to recognise that Chrétien and has ilk don’t really fit with argument, but doesn’t say why really. ‘One of the biggest hindrances to seeing clearly the development of medieval courtesy is the fact that the main texts representing this code are vernacular courtly literature. In these works courtesy is generally subordinated to courtly love, But writers of romance were not speaking as scholars and historians of ideas when they sad, “Love is the sole source of all courtesy and virtue.” They were speaking as lovers or their advocates, and lovers tend to subordinate everything to the power in whose grip they are. The phenomenon known to the Middle Ages as courtesy was quite separable, however, from romantic love. The original element in the amalgam of courtier, knight, and lover is a code of fine manners’ (113).

c. 140 re Saxo putting Cnut at inception of civilisaing process. Saxo figures much in the book which is interesting re sagas, no? 203 contrast the Nibelungenlied as pre-courtly, written instead for one of those bishop types. No mansuetas etc. (203). ‘In a variety of chronicles the description of lay nobility becomes a pedagogic instrument’ (197).

Jean de marmoutier writes chron for H2 1170x80; ‘We do know, however, that the fifteen years before Jean de Marmoutier began his biography had seen the blossoming of the early romances. His conception of Geoffrey the Fair as a courtly knight is formed at least contemporaneously with the rise of that figure in romance; most likely the historian lags behind the romancier. This suggests to us that Jean based his representation of Geoffrey on the model of the hero of romance. Henry and his court patronized precisely the literature that brought this figure into prominence, and having encountered the courtly knight in fiction, they wanted to see their forebears cast in this mold in te family chronicles’ (206). ‘All this suggests stongly that the figure of the courtly knight did not originate in the real social-political circumstances of life of the lay nobility but that this class of rough-cut and boorish warriors embraced the model of the courtly knight only after they had encountered him in fiction’ (207). 208-9 also on this theme, with statements like ‘In short, romance does not mirror the chivalric values of the feudal nobility; it creates them … But it should also be evident that the ideal of the chivalric knight was not fabricated from thin air. The elements of that ideal were adapted from a code that long since was a social reality in the lives of courtiers. The chivalric ideal represents an assimilation of the imperial tradition of courtesy to archaic values of the feudal nobility’ (209).

225 re the dissing of fabulae—important for orientating ourselves re Thidhreks saga intro etc, surely? 227 getting going on romance as pedagogy.

‘We observed earlier in passing that the complains against courtliness were regularly couched in a conventional opposition of the “ways of our ancient ancestors” to the vain frivolities of a dissolute modern generation (above p. 180). The importance and weight of the appeal to patres nostri, mos antecessorum, usus olim virorum honorabilium, ritus [228] heroum, and so forth, is hard to overestimate. There is interesting work to be written on the subject. Here I can offer only a few notes’ (227-8). ‘...the study of the examples of past generations constitutes a part of instruction in morals, even apart from the school tradition of ethical instruction through reading the auctores’ (228). 228 re this point in prologues of historians. Gerold of Avranches’s lost collection of Gesta described by Orderic: ‘He included tales from the Old Testament, saints’ lives, and more recent Gesta, among which he mentions the story of Guillaume d’Orange, hero of a cycle of Chansons de geste. The purpose of this collection of tales is to combat the carnalis petulantia of men living in the world and to convert them to a life of monastic discipline. This reveals one motive for the writing or collecting of literature at court: it is an instrument of correction. True, the activities of Gerould are recorded by an avid adherent of the rebellion against courtesy, Orderic. But whatever Gerold of Avranches actually did and whatever his motives actually were, at least we know that Orderic Vitalis himself was capable of conceiving of Chanson de geste as an instrument in a program of correction’ (231).

‘The urge to make the ancient tales into instruments of correction was an important element in the intellectual history of the twelfth century. We can confirm this by reference to Saxo Grammaticus. We have seen that at least one purpose of his Gesta Danorum was precisely to castigate the corrupt ways of his contemporaries by opposing to them the upright warrior ways of the ancient ancestors. Likewise it is probable that the anonymous clerical poet of Nibelungenlied regarded this as one of the ethical purposes of his work, even if he did not refer to it directly’ (232). cf. pp. XXXX re saxo.

‘It is a peculiar fact, one not explainable within the traditional notions of te chivalric origins of courtly narrative, that courtly romance is the creation exclusively of clerical authors’ (233) ‘But in general scholars have been slow to focus on the really decisive role of clerics not only in the composition of romance by also in the forging of the ethical ideals on which those works are based. It was imagined that whole the clerics, being literate, were necessarily the authors, they recorded values and an idealized world appropriate to knighthood; they were the more or less passive embroiderers of a natively chivalric idealism, serving the lay nobility as the scribe serves the lords for whom he prepares documents’ (234). Also patronage as not generally setting romances underway—folks get started on ‘em for other reasons (234-5). ‘...the clerical poets who creatd the romances of antiquity and the Arthurian romances did not appear before great lords as petitioners or as hired scribes, but as teachers. They rode a large wave, a wave pushed up by the urge to educate the laity, suffusing traditional warrior values with the courtly ideals of the learned clergy’ (235).

Jäggi, R., U. Würgler, F. Grandjean and M. Weiser, ‘Dual inhibition of 5-lipoxygenase/cyclooxygenase by a reconstituted homeopathic remedy; possible explanation for clinical efficacy and favourable gastrointestinal tolerability’, Inflammation Research, 53.4 (2004), 150–57.

Jahr, Ernst Håkon, `Sociolinguistics in Historical Language Contact: The Scandinavian Languages and Low German during the Hanseatic Period', in Language Change: Advances in Historical Sociolinguistics, ed. by E. H. Jahr (Berlin: de Gruyter, 1999), pp. 119--40. As far as I can see, basically a trans of the same `Nedertysk og nordisk: Språksamfunn og språkkontakt i Hansa-tida', in Nordisk og nedertysk: Språkkontakt og språkutvikling i Norden i seinmellomalderen, ed. by Ernst Håkon Jahr (Oslo: Novus, 1995), pp. 9--28. 119 nicely disses how although people recognise massive LG infl on Scand. langs, they don't actually research the details much. 120 emphs that the cataloguing has all been done: 'research related to direct loans from language A (Low German) to language B (Norwegian) was practically complete. And so it must seem to anyone working within a more or less rigid Neogrammarian framework. It would be correct to say that the study of language-contact between Low German and Norwegian/Scandinavian languages in the Late Middle Ages came to a halt a long time ago, with respect to both theory and method' (120). 'The problem that remains is, of course, to provide concrete and detailed examples of the role that different language contact mechanisms played, whether they triggered or fuelled the development, or both' (122). 128-- problem of working out whether LG and Norse were mutually comprehensible, and to what degree; 'This is perhaps one of the most interesting issues being investigated at present' (128). 'One important problem which should be raised here is the time element. The available texts which are suited to a direct comparison between Low German and Danish and Swedish--the so-called Volksbücher and early editions of the Bible--are in fact later works from the end of the 1400s and the 1500s. They were written towards the end of the most intense language contact period, when many of the linguistic results of this language contact were already well established. Naturally, we would rather know what the differences were at that point in time as opposed to after more than a hundred years of intense contact and influence' (129). 129-32 re importance of case-studies of individuals--interesting, potentially similar to my approach; but citing Moberg 1989 (working on Helmik van Nörden, in the period 1487-1511) and suggests Bertram Bene, German trader in Oslo, living there c. 1520--60. My material's much earlier, if much less handy.

*Jahr, Ernst Håkon, 'New perspectives on the language contact between Middle Low German and mainland Scandinavian in the late Middle Ages, and about a footnote on mixed languages which gave rise to a ‘detective story’ ' ERNST HÅKON JAHR Citation Information. Multilingua - Journal of Cross-Cultural and Interlanguage Communication. Volume 16, Issue 4, Pages 325–338, ISSN (Online) 1613-3684, ISSN (Print) 0167-8507, DOI: 10.1515/mult.1997.16.4.325, //1997

Jones, Christopher A., 'Furies, Monks, and Folklore in the Earliest Miracula of Saint Swithun', JEGP, Journal of English and Germanic Philology, 113 (2014), 407-42

Jones, Gareth A., `Where’s the Capital? A Geographical Essay', The British Journal of Sociology, 65 (2014), 721--35. https://s3.amazonaws.com/academia.edu.documents/42641652. 'In the twenty-first century it is now well established that the story of capital is the story of urbanization and cities. Cities account for most of the world’s GDP, itself unequally distributed with 100 cities commanding 30 per cent of world GDP and the urban share of GDP increasing faster than the rate generally for most of the past half century (World Bank 2009)' (723). 'In picking up some of Harvey’s work my aim is simply to call attention to how Capital seems to ignore urbanization as critical to the formation, distribution and reproduction of capital' (727). 'Yet, urbanization should be central to any account of capital from at least the early nineteenth century. During this period we witness what Lefebvre signalled as the ‘complete urbanization of society’, a process whereby all social and economic life, whether located in cities or not has become urbanized; that is, subject to the logic of urban capital (Lefebvre 2003)' (728). Dead important for Iceland.

Jones, Timothy, ‘Geoffrey of Monmouth, Fouke le Fitz Waryn, and National Mythology’, Studies in Philology, 91 (1994), 233-49. Looks dead handy, good on monsters apparently. ‘However, roughly the first third of the romance is spent on events which take place before Fouke is born, detailing the history of the Normans and the Fitz Waryn family on the Welsh border. The presence of this background is just as important, I would argue, for the defense of Fouke’s actions as the later char[235]acterization of his outlawry, for the author has not only understood his rebellion in terms of feudal values, but also its place in history. Thus, like Geoffrey of Monmouth in the Historia Regum Britanniae, the author of Fouke le Fitz Waryn incorporates the Brut tradition, but unlike Geoffrey, he does not make it his primary myth of origins, for it is, after all, pagan. Instead, the native British myth is replaced by a new, Norman and Christian one based on the heroic character of Christian knights and the patterns of spiritual warfare found in medieval saints’ lives’ (234-5). Re Payn’s monster fight: summary 235; topos of neglect (literary irrelevant, historical innaccuracy) 235-6. No effort to set up Fouke with Trojan origins etc: ‘There is no elaborate genealogy, no secret lover, lost cousin, bastard child set adrift, or other romance convention by which an heir might be found for an ancient crown. Instead, our author undercuts the Brut myth by showing it to be incomplete, by making it incapable of overwhelming the barbaric and demonic force of Geomagog. The full victory is claimed only by the Normans, and their myth replaces rather than augments the Brut’ (237). ‘According to Geoffrey, the land of Albion prior to the advent of the Trojans was a country “inhabited by no one but a few giant men [a nemine exceptis paucis hominibus gigantibus inhabitabantur]” (237, quoting Wright Bern MS ed., 21). Trojans civilise land with fields and homes, giants attack on pagan holy dayas, Trojans defeat them (238). This narrative with Fouke sets up complex parallels with arrival of heathen Icelanders and conversion. 238-9 emphs how Welsh are called Bretoun, emphs how they are still stuck with the Brutus paradigm. More on implications of survival of Geomagog viewed thru Geoff 239. Fouke development of Geomagog’s nastiness 239-40; shows how formulaic paradigm of SS lives is used in the account 240. Close parallels with St. Margaret’s dragon-fight, v. pop. in medieval England in lat, Eng and AN, probably directly used 241-6 (most striking parallel dialogue between hero and demon, 243-4). NBs John as supporting one of the Brutus race vs. legit Norman type (249).

Jakob, 'Hommahatari reyndi að drepa Hörð Torfason', Fréttablaðið, 287 [year 8] (20 October 2008), p. 38. http://timarit.is/view_page_init.jsp?issId=278444&pageId=4009038&lang=is&q=kreppub%F3k

Jakob Benediktsson (ed.), Íslendingabók; Landnámabók, Íslenzk fornrit, 1, 2 vols (Reykjavík: Hið Íslenzka Fornritfélag, 1968). ch. 268 of the H text says (313, 315): ‘Þat var upphaf hinna heiðnu laga, at menn skyldu eigi hafa höfuðskip í haf, en ef eir hefði, þá skyldi þeir af taka höfuð, áðr þeir kœmi í landsýn, ok sigla eigi at landi með gapandi höfðum eða gínandi trjónum, svá at landvættir fælisk við. // Baugr tvíeyringr eða meiri skyldi liggja í hverju höfuðhofi á stalla; þann baug skyldi hverr goði hafa á hendi sér til lögþinga allra, þeira er hann skyldi sjálfr heyja, ok rjóða hann þar áðr í roðru nautsblóðs þess, er hann blótaði þar sjálfr. Hverr sá maðr, er þar þurfti lögskil af hendi at [315] leysa at dómi, skyldi áðr eið vinna at þeim baugi ok nefna sér vátta tvá eða fleiri. “Nefni ek í þat vætti”, skyldi habb segja, “at ek vinn eið at baugi, lögeið; hjálpi mér svá Freyr ok Njörðr ok hinn almáttki áss, sem ek mun svá sök þessa sœkja eða verja eða vitni bera eða kviðu eða dóma, sem ek veit réttast ok sannast ok helzt at lögum, ok öll lögmæt skil af hendi leysa, þau er undir mik koma, meðan ek em á þessu þingi’

*Jaksi, Bart, ‘Marriage Laws in Ireland and on the Continent in the Early Middle Ages’, ‘The Fragility of her Sex’?, ed. by C. E. Meek and M. K. Sims (Dublin, 1996), 16–42.

James, Edward, ‘Bede and the Tonsure Question’, Peritia, 3 (1984), 85–98.

James, Montague Rhodes, A Descriptive Catalogue of the Manuscripts in the Library of Peterhouse (Cambridge, 1899). [A122.7.P50]. Wade ref in index directs to MS no. 255: ‘Willelmus de Monte, etc. 2.5.6 / O.R. 380 / James 88. Vellum, 9 3/8 x 7, ff. 218, single and double columns, many hands. Cent. xii…’ (314). Contents listed 315-21. Section ii.7 is sermons, no. 33: ‘Humiliamini sub potenti manu … Fratres mei, inicium christianitatis. This sermon contains a quotation from the lost Song of Wade: see further on this at the end of the volume’ (319). Alas, no sign of it at the end of the volume, or the beginning . Folios 48b-49b.

Ah, actually two sets of foliations—runs to f. 127r with red ‘expilicit similitudinatius magri Will[crossed]i de monte’ and a bit more underneath in brown (2 pens, maybe 2 hands?). 127v blank. 128r new numbering (and hand, tho’ it might have occurred earlier for all I know). ii49 is where we want (there’s a section iii as well!).

James, M. R. (ed. and trans.), Walter Map: De Nugis Curialium. Courtiers’ Trifles, rev. by C. N. L. Brooke and R. A. B. Mynors, Anecdota Oxoniensa, 14 (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1983). Late C12.

James, Mary and Sally Brown, ‘Grasping the TLRP Nettle: Preliminary Analysis and some Enduring Issues Surrounding the Improvement of Learning Outcomes’, The Curriculum Journal, 16.1 (Spring 2005), 7–30. DOI: 10.1080/0958517042000336782.

Jameson, Fredric, `Future City', New Left Review, 21 (2003), 65-XXXXX (http://newleftreview.org/II/21/fredric-jameson-future-city)

Jameson, Fredric, `Realism and Utopia in The Wire', Criticism, 52 (2010), 359--72. 'I have deliberately used the word creativity several times in this context: how can this element not be seen as somehow proto-Utopian on both sides in a bureaucratic society for the most part static and content to run in the normal time-honored way, with all the old problems and malfunctions? At this early point already, The Wire can be observed to be ceasing to replicate a static reality or to be “realist” in the traditional mimetic and replicative sense. Here society, on microlevels of various dimensions, is finding itself subject to deliberate processes of transformation, to human projects, to the working out of Utopian intentions that are not simply the forces of gravity of habit and tradition' (365). On good vs evil: 'I have elsewhere argued against this binary system: Nietzsche was perhaps only the most dramatic prophet to have demonstrated that it is little more than an afterimage of that otherness it also seeks to produce—the good is ourselves and the people like us, the evil is other people in their radical difference from us (of whatever type). But society today is one from which, for all kinds of reasons (and probably good ones), difference is vanishing and, along with it, evil itself. // This means that the melodramatic plot, the staple of mass culture (along with romance), becomes increasingly unsustainable. If there is no evil any longer, then villains become impossible too; and for money to be interesting, it has to happen on some immense scale of robber barons or oligarchs, for whom, to be sure, there are fewer and fewer dramatic possibilities today, and whose presence in any case recasts traditional plots in political terms, where they are less suitable for a mass culture, that seeks to ignore politics' (367). On Frank Sabokta's daft but utopian dream of revitalising the ports: 'It cannot be all that—no viewer will understand this episode in that practical light, because it involves not an individual reform but rather a collective and historical reversal—but it introduces a slight crack or rift into the seamless necessity of The Wire and its realism or reality. This episode then adds something to The Wire that cannot be found in most other mass-cultural narratives: a plot in which Utopian elements are introduced, without fantasy or wish fulfillment, into the construction of the fictive, yet utterly realistic, events. // Yet Sobotka’s Utopianism would remain a mere fluke or idiosyncrasy if it did not have its equivalents in later seasons of The Wire.' (371).

Jamieson, Scottish etymological dictionary thing. S.v. elfshot ‘We learn from Ihre, that in Sweden they give the name skot, i.e. shot, to that didease of animals which makes them die as suddenly as if they had been struck with lightning; and that the vulgar belief is that wounds of this kind ar the effect of magic’. S.v. elriche, forms: elrische, elraige, elrick, alrisch, alry. ‘This term has most probably been formed from A.-S. Su.-G. aelf, genius, daemonium, as A.-S. ric, Su.-G. rik, rich; q. abounding in spirits; as primarily descriptive of a place supposed to be under the power of evil genii. It greatly confirms this etymon, that the term, as more generally used, conveys the idea of something preternatural’. Also gives Elphrisch, citing only Forbes, Commentarie upon the Revelation, 4to (Middelburg, 1614), p. 181. S.v. allerish he says it’s the same as elrische, giving meaning as chilly, of weather. S.v. Wan, s[ubstantive]. ‘Wan and Wound, perhaps blow and wound. [cit from C16] … This alliterative phrase has probably been proverbial with out ancestors. From the succeeding line […haill and sound], the analogy requires that there should be a connexion of idea between wan and wound. Wan may therefore signify a blow or stroke, as allied to Teut. wand, plaga; Isl. vande, difficultas, periculum, noxa’. Cf. OED s.v. Wan sb.1 Sc. ‘A dark or livid mark produced by a blow; a bruise’. ‘Perh. a subst. use of Wan a.1 But cf. Wen’. 1st cit 1533. Could just be any wound as far as I can see. Better cits than Jamieson. Not in MED.

Jannaris, A. N., ‘The “Tale of Wade” ’, The Academy, [vol] 49 (1896), 137 (also, issue 1241, Feb 15, 1896). Copied verbatim: ‘We have to congratulate Dr. James of King’s College, Cambridge, and Mr. Gollancz of Christ’s, on their discovery of a fragment of the long lost Early-English “Tale of Wade,” which Chaucer makes Pandarus tell Criseyde after their supper together at his house, before he brings Troilus to her. Speght no doubt saw the MS. about 1600, for he says the story was long and fabulous; but since then nothing has been heard of the original. Dr. James, however, while making a catalogue of the MSS. at Peterhouse, came across a short English quotation in an early thirteenth century Latin homily on Humility, and asked Mr. Gollancz to interpret it to him. Mr. Gollancz, to his great joy, found that it was six lines of the lost “Tale of Wade,” and mentioned Wade’s father, the giant Hildebrand, who begat him on a mermaid. The preacher was speaking of the Fall of man, and the evil that followed from it. He said that Adam was turned from a man into a sort of non-man; and not Adam only, but almost all other men too; so that they could say with Wade, “Some are elves and some are adders; some are sprites that dwell by waters: there is no Man, but Hildebrand only.”

“Adam autem, de homine, factus est quasi non homo; nec tantum Adam, sed omnes fere fiunt quasi non homines, Ita quod dicere possunt cum Wade:

“Summe sende ylues

and summe sende nadderes:

summe sende nikeres

the [bi den watere] wunien:

Nister man nenne

bute ildebrand onne.”

The two difficult words are biden patez or pacez in l. 4. Mr Gollancz at first emended them, from Layamon, into binnen poles, “in pools”; but as that sacrifices the alliteration, Mr. Liddell suggested bi ðen watere, “by the waters,” as the scribe might easily mistake the Anglo-Saxon w ([wynn]) for a p, and the long final r with an e twirl for z. Mr. Bradley suggested wades “fords.”

The “Tale of Wade” must then be much like Layamon’s Brut, and date about 1300 A.D. Its alliteration, though constant, is not regular.

The discovery of this fragment is of the highest interest to all students of our language, literature, and mythology. It now remains for Dr. James and Mr. Gollancz to find the rest of the poem, and tell us all about Wade’s magic boat, “Guingelot,” and his wondrous adventures in it; about his mermaid mother, his smith-son Weyland, and his grandson Withga. Like Oliver Twist, we ask for more.

_________

London: Feb 10, 1896.

At last Friday’s meeting of the Philological Society, Mr. Israel Gollancz communicated and explained the historical “Tale of Wade” just recovered by him. I arrived too late to profit by his paper, but having been favoured with a printed copy of the text I was enabled to suggest some explanations of the few Latin lines introducing the Song. I reproduce them here as given by Mr. Gollancz, the italics denoting his conjectural additions.

“Adam autem de homine factus est quod non homo nec tantum Adam sed omnes fere fiunt quod non homines. Ita quod dicere possunt cum Wade.”

For this surely meaningless version I propose the following reading:

“Adam a deo est factus, quo nominatur homo nec tantum Adam sed omnes fuerunt et fiunt, qui nominantur homines. Itaque dicere possunt [?possum] cum Wade.”

. c _ _ _

[actual transcription: Ada’ a de hoīe. fact’ 3 q. no’ ho’. n tm ada’ s3 oms f’e fiut

_ i3 _

.q. no homines. Ita q dr’e possunt cu Wade.]

[slashed descender]

Jansen-Sieben, Ria (ed.), De natuurkunde van het geheelal: een 13de-eeuws middelnederlands leerdicht, Academie Royale de Belgique: Classe des lettres et des sciences morales et politiques, Collection des anciens auteurs belges, nouvelle série, 7, 2 vols (Brussels: Palais des Académies, 1968)

Janson, Henrik, ‘Adam av Bremen. Gregorius VII och Uppsalatemplet’, in Uppsala och Adam av Bremen, ed. by Anders Hultgärd (Nora: Nya Doxa, 1997), pp. 131–95. ‘Two main questions are addressed: Why [sic] did Adam write the Gesta? and: Why did he describe Ubsola as he did? The position of the Hamburg-Bremen diocese and its archbishop Liemar at the time Adam was working on his Gesta is examined. Liemar as leader of the German episcopate supported the king and was in conflict with the reform party and the pope who had excommunicated Liemar in February 1075. In the open breach between the two power systems of the western church that followed, Adam took sides with the imperialist party, and his work can be seen as a defence for the position of Liemar and the king. The account of Ubsola in Gesta iv, 26–30 shows a narrow correspondence with the ideological position of the king and the bishops in Worms 24/1 1076 when Hildebrand was declared an invasor [sic] of the apostolic see. Adam’s Ubsola description seems, therefore, not to be aimed at the pre-Christian cult but at the Gregorians and the affiliated church that probably existed in Swedish Uppsala where, according to Adam, in the temple of avarice the capital since superbia (Thor), furor (Wodan), voluptas (Fricco) had their seats.’ (abstract: 131).

133 summary of scholia and MSS issues. 134 reckons the temple description is Adam’s own (following Kristensen 1975 it seems). Dating (late 1075/early 1076) p. 134.

Why does he have the description of the north? Trommer looks at this in 1857; partly to emphasise missionary aspect of Hamburg-Bremen; but Janson seems to think this is unsatisfactory for reasons I don’t really get; emphasises political context (134–36). Archbishop Adalbert dies 1072 and Henry happens to be in control of Saxony so he appoints the success, Liemar. ‘Ärkebiskopen av Bremen kom, som vi skal se, att bli den ledande figuren i motståndet mot Gregorius, och han blev också en av de första som drabbades av principen om påvens domsrätt över biskopar’ (138). 138–46 re Liemar vs. Gregorius which I only skimmed. 145 seems to reckon that there’s this papal letter linking Liemar not only with inobedentia but idylatria and superbia. 146 so how does Adam fit into this? For or against Liemar? For him (and the Emperor)! (146–)

‘Låt oss nu försöka [try to] identifiera några av de syften som Adam omvandlat [changed/transformed] till styrande [governing] teman in sim framställning. Det viktigaste av desse är sannolikt [probably] frågan om ärkestiftet Hamburg-Bremens och dess överhuvuds juridiska ställning. Häri tar han visst [certainly] avstånd från [dissociated himself from (lit took distance from)] Adalberts planer på att upphöja stiftet till ett patriakat, och ser detta som et uttryck för [token of] superbia. I gengäld [in return] betonar [accentuates] han dock [yet/howver], lång utöver [beyond] vad hans källor ger grundlag för, andra rättigheter [right, privilege], såsom den bremensike ärkebiskopens ställning som påvligvikarie och legat, liksom hans rätt att grunda nya biskopsdömen. Adam har alltså påtagitsig att klargöra stiftets [the diocese’s] rättigheter och han har funnit det lämpligt [suitable] att göra detta i form av en stiftshistorik, vilket alltså gvit den kronologiska uppläggningen. Denna kartläggning har, som alltså Seegrün gjort troligt, syftat till att bilda underlag för Liemars försvar [162] mot Gregorius VII.Vid sidan av dessa teman tycksAdam ha velat ge en geografisk beskrivning av ärkebiskopens maktområde. Att detta varit ett av hans syften kommer till ytan när han någon gång motiverar sin framställning på en bestämd punkt. Således säger han om de öar i Atlanten som lyder under nordmännens herradöme, att de inte kan förbigås av honom eftersom de (följaktligen) också är underordnade Hamburgstiftet. Adams intresse för England kan ses som en blandning av dessa teman. När han skall berätta om händelserna 1066 motiverar han det dels med deras stora betydelse, dels med “att England av hävd är underkastat danerna.” Mycket av innehållet i Adams verk kan förklaras av denna relation mellan elementen juridik, kronologi och geografi. Skildringen får dock liv av ett annat tema; ett för medeltida världsuppattning grundläggande tema: kamen om männisosjälarna mellan Gud och Djävulen’ (161–62). Talks about ideological contrast between civitas deiand civitas diaboli 162–4; ‘Djävaulens angrepp hade dock hårdnat till den grad att ärkebiskop Adalbert själv dragits ner i för[164]därvet, slaver och svenskar återfallit [relapsed] i hedendom, normanderna erövrat England, och inom riket gjordes uppror mot kungen och kyrkan; slutligen anlände Antikrist och intog påvetronen. Sådan var nödsituationen för kyrkan. Adams hopp stod till Liemar som i sin ödmjuka rättfärdighet plåats av de onda krafterna’ (163–4). So Adam wants to hold up good and bad exempla. One bad example is civitas vulgatissima Rethre, a sedes ydolatriae (bk. IV.21 it seems) (164–65). ‘Från denna civitas vulgatissima går vi så över till sveonernas templum nobilissimum Ubsola, och till den demonkult som bedrevs där. Här ställs vi liksom Adams publik omedelbart inför en häpnadsväcknande upplysning. Detta tempel är nämligen, enligt Adam, helpt gjort av guld (totum ex auro paratum). I detta tempel dyrkar folket bildstoderna av tre gudar, på så sätt att den mäktigaste av dem, Thor, har en tron mitt i tricliniet (Thor in medio solium habeat triclinio). På var sida har Wodan och Fricco plats. Sedan förklarar Adam genom ett direkt citat vilka gudarnas funktioner är. Thor sägs härska i luften och råda över väder och gröda. Wodan, d.v.s. raseriet (id est furor), styr krigen och ger styrka mot fienden. Fricco skänker “de dödliga” fred och vällust. Härefter beskrivs de olika bildstodernas utformning. De avbildar Fricco med en väldig fallos (priapus). Wodan framställer de deväpnad “liksom de våra plägar /framställa/ Mars” (sicut nostri Martem solent), mean Thor med spira (cum septro) synes linka Jupiter. I nästföljande kapitel berättas om ett särskilt prästerskap, om vid vilka tillfällen det offras till de olika gudarna, om den allmänna festen som firas vart nionde år och om hur offerriten går till. Beskrivningen avslutas med ett kapitel om hur en av prästerna som blivit blind, fick sin syn tillbaks genom att efter en Maria-vision ha börjat tro på hennes son, varefter han ägnade sig åt att omvända hedningar. Till detta kommer fyra scholier vari omtalas ett väldigt evigt [166] grönt träd, en källa, en gyllene kedja—som på en och samma gång både hänger ner över taket och omger huset, en kristen kung som fördrevs för att han inte ville offra och slutligen ytterligare om offret och festmåltiderna. Frågan är nu om det finns anledning att tro att Adam är mer tillförlitlig när det gäller beskrivningen av Ubsola än vad som var fallet med Rethre.Uppsala är förvisso namnet pä en verklig ort, men i övrigt finns alltså inte mycket som kan stödja Adams Uppsalaskildring. Påståendet att templet skulle vara helt gjort av guld faller redan på grund av sin orimlighet. Vad demonerna beträffar beskriver Adam dem under namnen Thor, Wodan och Fricco, vilket är namn som han har kunnat hämta från äldre källor. Att de första finns i äldre litteratur är väl känt, men även Fricco fanns att tillgå för Adam i åtminstone en äldre källa, nämligen i ett av Karl den stores kapitularier från år 802, där Fricco nämns som det allmänna exemplet på en som bedrivit otukt i Guds helgedom [interesting—would that explain the form? note says ‘Capitularia [Capitularia regum francorum , ed. A Boretius, vol. 1 1883; MGH, Legum section II], s. 97: ...memores exemplo quod de incestis factum est quod Fricco perpetravit in sanctimoniali Dei. Äran av att ha framdragit denna källa tillkommer Werner Betz [“Die altgermanische Religion”, Deutsche Philologie im Aufriss, 2 Aulf. hrsg. von W. Stammler, bd. III (Berlin), sp. 1547–1646 at 1597f.], men Betz underlåter—i sitt färsök att i detta namn återfinna en gud som kan fylla den dumézilianska fruktbarhetsfunktionen bland sydergermanerna—at meddela att platsen för Friccos handlinger var Guds helgedom, vilket torde bevisa att han ingått i allmänna föreställningar om denna—inte i någon färkristen religion. Jrf. även Wagner 1989 s. 306–7 som tolknar detta ställa på ett annat sätt: En man som bar det gängse namnet Fricco hade förbrutit sig mot en nunna (sanctimolialis Dei) [Frickenhausen und Adams von Bremen Fricco”, Beiträge zur Namenforschung, Neue Folge, 24 (1989), 295–309.]’ And more doth he write which I have not time to transcribe :-(

Janson, Henrik, ‘Adam of Bremen and the Conversion of Scandinavia’, in Christianizing Peoples and Converting Individuals, ed. by Guyda Armstrong and Ian N. Wood, International Medieval Research, 7 (Turnhout: Brepols, 2000), pp. 83–88. Summarises temple as allegory for Pope Gregory. Too brief a summary to be very convincing—basically of the 1997 article/thesis.

*Janson, Henrik, Templum nobilissimum… H. Avokok. 930 Avhandlingar … 21

Jansson, Sven B. F., Runes in Sweden, trans. by Peter Foote (XXXX, 1987). ‘The Björketorp stone [from Blekinge] makes part of one of the most impressive monuments in Sweden—and one that most kindles the imagination. It consists of three imposing stones, standing in a triangle. The one with runes on it, standing 4 m above ground-level, has an inscription which can be plausibly rendered as follows: ‘I hid here the secret of mighty runes, potent runes. Whoever breaks this monument shall always be tornmented by sorcery. Treacherous death shall strike him. I prophesy destruction.’ // The same formula occurs in the curs called down on anyone who breaks the monument found on the Stentoften stone’ (24). No refs! Gah! Picture of Björketorp on p. 23 tho’.

*Janzen, John M., The Discourses of Healing in ... (1992). Search also for *Power, Knowledge and Practice.

Jayatilaka, Rohini, ‘The Old English Benedictine Rule: Writing for Women and Men’, Anglo-Saxon England, 32 (2003), 147–187. Close MS study etc. basically arguing that original trans refers only to men but intended in principle for women due to intro and epilogue—but that surviving MSS tho’ yusually for males often show imperfect adaption from ffeminised versions, suggesting that feminised versions were at one point more available.

Dariusz Jemielniak and Eduard Aibar, 'Bridging the Gap Between Wikipedia and Academia', ''JOURNAL OF THE ASSOCIATION FOR INFORMATION SCIENCE AND TECHNOLOGY'', 67(7):1773–1776, 2016. http://www.uoc.edu/webs/eaibar/_resources/documents/Jemielniak_Aibar_2016.pdf. 'Data from the Spanish Survey on the Social Perception of Science (FECYT, 2012) show that the Internet is also the main source of scientific information for the Spanish public. When asked about the type of Internet resources used for scientific information, 21.7% say they use Wikipedia as their main source. Only blogs and social media rated higher in terms of use, but since both include a large variety of instances, Wikipedia can actually be considered the most consulted singular source and, therefore, the most important channel for the public communication of science nowadays' (Jemielniak and Aibar 2016, 1775)

Jenkis, Elwyn, National Character in South African English Children’s Literature (CRC Press, 2006). http://books.google.com/books?id=b4MFcWRR2X0C. 'The first children's novel set in Southern Africa was The English Boy at the Cape, by and Englishman, Edward Kendall. It provides the only example in the literature of the application of the notion of the "noble savage" to the San; by about 1850 this concept had dies out. Other children's books describing the San in early colonial days are historical novels written in the following century, which look back on that period from points of view other than that of Kendall's contemporaneous account' (125). 'The author portrays the San as rather dirty, but he is not derogatory about them--they sing and dance and tell stories, but they also labor and discourse on matters of philosophy--as do all the other peoples of Africa, he reminds his readers. He constantly applies the adjectives "good" and "hospitable" to them' (126).

*Jenkins, Richard P., ‘Witches and Fairies: Supernatural Aggression and Deviance among the Irish Peasantry’, Ulster Folklife, 23 (1977), XXXX.

Jente, Richard, Die mythologischen Ausdrücke im altenglischen Wortschatz: Eine kulturgeschichtlich-etymologische Untersuchung, Anglistische Forschungen, 56 (Heidelberg: Winter, 1921). §65d. (p. 98): Im Anord. wird uns ein Myths von einem Riesen ³rvandil überliefert, dessen abgefrorene Zehe in den Himmel geworfen und ein Stern wurde. Das seltene ags. earendal ‘Lichtschein, Stern’ kann mit dem anord. Wort etymologisch verwant sein, ohne daß man eine Spur von dieser Sage darin finden kann.’ (*wad of refs also). §164 (p. 281): ‘im Altnordischen hieß eine besondere nicht genau festzaustellende Art Zauberei seiðr. Das Wort ist sonst im Germanischen nicht belegt, wenn man nicht vielleicht ags. –siden (in ælfsiden ‘Nachtmahr’ §112) und sidsa damit in Zusammenhang bringen kann.’ ‘Etymologie. Ags. sidsa neben anord. seiðr zu stellen, macht Schwierigkeiten. Vielleicht liegt hier ein Mißverständnis für das richtig überlieferte –siden(n) vor. Diese Form konnte auf Einfluß des anord. siðenn, Part. pass. des Verbums síða [macr not í] ‘Zauberei treiben, durch Zauberei wirken’, selbst ein dunkles Wort, deuten. Wohl damit verwandt, aber außerhalb des Germ., sind lit. saitu, saisti ‘Zeichen deuten’, saitas m. ‘Zauberei’; cymr. húd [macr] (aus *soito-) ‘Magie’ und vielleicht skr. sáman [macr] ‘Zaubergesang’. Die Grundwurzel ist wahrscheinlich idg. séi- ‘binden’ ’(refs).

Jerris, Randon, ‘Cult Lines and Hellish Mountains: The Development of Sacred Landscape in the Early Medieval Alps’, Journal of Medieval and Early Modern Studies, 32 (2002), 85–108. Maybe it was just me but seems to claim—without much references to primary sources, at least in text—that churches spread from roman sites to hilltop sites to sun-terraces, basically Xianising the whole landscape and following settlement. Wow!

Jesch, Judith, Women in the Viking Age (Woodbridge: Boydell, 1991).128–30 re Ardre and Lärbro stones, no refs but some useful discussion and nice pics. [.396(4802) Jes.]

Judith Jesch, 'Norse Historical Traditions and Historia Gruffud vab Kenan: Magnus Berfoettr and Haraldr Harfagri', in Gruffudd ap Cynan: A Collaborative Biography, edited by K. L. Maund (Cambridge, 1996), pp. 117-47

Jesch, Judith, ‘Scandinavians and “Cultural Paganism” in Late Anglo-Saxon England’, in The Christian Tradition in Anglo-Saxon England: Approaches to Current Scholarship and Teaching, ed. by Paul Cavill (Cambridge: Brewer, 2004), pp. 55–68. Brief but handy look at the idea of ‘cultural paganism’ in Danish England, both Danelaw and Cnut’s court. Citeable. 66–67 re volks; 2 in Norfolk and Lincs, one of these with shield and spear at that depicted in Graham campbel et al eds at 192. Suggests this may relate to Wulfstan’s mentions of ’em. Hmm.

Jiriczek, Otto Luitpold, Die Bósa-Saga in Zwei Fassungen, nebst proben aus den Bósa-Rímur (Stassburg: Trübner, 1893), accessed from http://archive.org/details/diebsasagainzwe00jirigoog

Jiriczek, O. L., 'Zur Mittelisländischen Volkskunde: Mitteilungen aus ungedruckten Arnamagnäanischen Handschriften', Zeitschrift für deutsche Philologie, 26 (1893--94), 2–25. http://archive.org/details/zeitschriftfrdph26berluoft p. 3 mentions Sigrgards saga and seems to emphasise importance of lygisögur 'in kulturhistorischer beziehung'. Lygisögur the first attestation of the märchen tradition in Scandinavia so important for that.

Jochens, J., ‘Old Norse Magic and Gender: Þáttr Þorvalds ins víðfǫrla’, Scandinavian Studies, 63 (1991), 305–17 re seiðr. Þorvaldr Koðránsson 1st Icelander to become Xian and evangelise. Spectrum from innate ability to predict future without magic to using instrumental magic to do so (306). ‘In the Germano-Nordic tradition women seem originally to have dominated or even monopolized the activity of the first group. This is clear, for example, from the writings of Tacitus and the Edda poetry in which mortal women and mythical females predicted the future without the use of magic. In the family sagas, however, the gift of forsjá ‘foresight’, that is, [307] the ability to predict the future based simply on premonitions or dreams but without recourse to magic, is attributed to men and women alike. In fact, men exercised this gift at least as often as women. Furthermore, in some of the later sagas such predictions were expressed only by men, suggesting over time a transfer—at least in the authors’ perception—from females to male’ (306-7). Claims that seiðr is needed by women to do magic stuff; originally a property of the gods (though at the same time these women are ‘Projected on to pagan myht as ancient supernatural sibyls’). ‘This connection between women and goddesses suggests that not only divination, but also magic had originally been a female monopoly’ (307); hohum, I’m not sure of the logical rigour of all that! ‘It is not enough, therefore, with Dillmann, to establish—contrary to popular belief based on the later period—that women in older times did not dominate magic and that men also performed the art. Since divination and magic had been female [308] specialities from the remotest times, the crucial questions pertain to the involvement of men’ (307-8). ‘Although magic eventually was outlawed by the church [sic!] in the North as elsewhere in Europe, a scrutiny of Old Norse poetry, the family sagas, and the law codes demonstrates that during an intermediary stage clerical authors attempted to domesticate pagan magic using three simultaneous and often contradictory approaches: by increasing the number of men in what had been primarily a female profession during the pagan period, by demoting magic from its former position of high prestige, and by permitting Christian leaders both to perform and to benefit from magic while the new religion gained acceptance’ (308), as in Þorvalds þáttr.

‘Rather than connected with the landvættir, creatures possessing the land before the settlers’ arrival, the spámaðr may be linked with ancestor worship—a belief best known from Norway—and thereby linked representing later human settlement. In Kristni saga he is called an ármaðr. Although this word normally designates “steward”, the word is associated here with alfr, ‘elf’ and perhaps relatd to Ármansfell, a mountain in Iceland’ (311). Finds an ‘absence of a female element in the universe of landvættir’ (310)—in this text, the male lv. seems to look after his children (310-11).

‘Pagan women may originally have dominated most of the magical arts in Europe, at least in the form of divination, but men joined women in the exercise of some these [sic] activities already during pagansim. On the Continent the church’s [sic] hostility quickly made men abandon magic thus (re)feminizing the art. In contrast, the North provides evidence of men and women sharing the prestigious practice. Þorvalds þáttr ens víðf²rla has shown us a glimpse of the complicated process of men’s access. The Christian author working in the early part of the thirteenth century with orally transmitted material—firmly anchored in pagan tradition, was unable to ignore magic. Although aware of women’s former role, he changed gender from female to male performers. It is not possible to determine whether this change is due entirely to Christian influence or whether it must be credited also to the older patriarchal tenor of Indo-European culture. The gender change, at any rate, made it easier for him to accept the pagan magic of the past. Once accepted, its continued existence and occasional benefit for Christians could be admitted. Furthermore, the gender change also made it possible for him to include a Christian bishop who performed the art. But, at the same time, the devaluation of pagan magic is suggested by the fact that our story associates it with berserks’ (314).

Jochens, Jenny, ‘ “Með Jákvæði Hennar Sjálfrar”: Consent as Signifier in the Old Norse World’, in Consent and Coercion to Sex and Marriage in Ancient and Medieval Societies, ed. by Angeliki E. Laiou (Washington, D.C., 1993), pp. 271–89. Basically a rehash of earlier articles on this, but: ‘How, then, can we explain the cases of consent in the family sagas? Without additional evidence of oral tradition from myth, poetry, or law, this feature must be ascribed solely to the thirteenth-century authors of the family sagas. Often with a thorough clerical training, they were more exposed to ecclesiastical propaganda than ordinary people. As a consequence they took consent so seriously that they included it in their constructions of those partsof their ancestors’ lives for which they had little informations, thus making it an integral part of the pagan marriage contract. Not even churchment would expect pagans to live according to Christian norms, of course, but the authors undoubtedly hoped that on this issue their stories would be understood as models worthy of emulation. This didactic quality also clarifies the curious phenomenon that the marriages contracted against the expressed will of the women ended in disaster. Warning that merely asking the women did not suffice, these stories demonstrated the dire consequences when their wishes were not heeded’ (285).

Jochens, Jenny, Women in Old Norse Society (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1995).

Jochens, Jenny, Old Norse Images of Women (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1996). ‘It also seems likely that gender divisions ascribed to gods and goddesses in a constructed cosmos and expressed in myth are in some way a reflection of societal perceptions. Moreover, they likely had an impact on the generations of men and women who told and listened to these stories, for repeated dramatic performances would have [34] confirmed the societal perceptions and trengthened faith in the religious system undergirding the myths. Through cross-cultural studies, women anthropologists are beginning increasingly to unravel a connection between gender in society and mythology. They suggest that societies with undifferentiated or egalitarian gender roles tend to allow female participation in creation symbolism and the divine hierarchy, whereas cosmogenic myths in male-dominaed cultures often portray fear of women, especially of their sexuality’ (34). Idea that socs go from female worship, linking women with fertility, to male-based worship. Woman-worship an interesting indicator then; but Dumézil into IE partiarchal set up (34). Sees Bronze Age pallic carvings as patriarchal thing in Scand and little ev for female worship, but ‘vestiges’ apparent in arch. and hist (35), hmm, completely different view from the North one, no? Cites Germania ch. 40 re nerthus and Gunnar Helmingr (35-7). Re the latter, ‘Demonstrating a clearly Christian thrust, the story is aldo influenced by accounts of fertility cults from southern Europe. The story suggests that at some point a transition from a female to a male fertility god has taken place, whereby the male was elevated to the head and the female relegated to the attending priestess. A [37] similar change is implied by the sex change from the female Nerthus to the male god with the identical Njorðr [hooked o], the father of Freyr’ (36-37). ‘The similarity between dís (the singular form) and the Indian dhisanas (goddess) suggests an ancient and widespread context for these female figures’ (38). NB Landvættir—useful link, I note, re demons infesting wilderness (44-5).

‘The absence of recorded female landvættir is underscored in this story by the fact that Koðrán’s protector is also responsible for his small children and finds it hard to hear them cry. In contrast to many of the other supernatural figures, the landvættir were destined to live on in folklore. Here they merged with the elves or fairies (álfar), creatures worshipped in Sweden. The combined group became known as the hidden people (huldufólk). Folklorists have noticed that women dominte in these later tales; the few men who appear are weak and unimportant’ (45).

45-6 re dísir cult; ‘Norway and Sweden furnish evidence that women were responsible for the cult of the dísir and the even more elusive álfar (elves). the mixture of the two groups is suggested by the story of Princess Álfhildr, daughter of the king of Álfheimar, in Sweden. In charge of the dísablót, she reddens the altar with blood the night before the festivities. The most vivid account of an álfablót is found in “The Verses on a Journey to the East” (Austrfararvísur), composed by the poet Sighvatr Þórðarson during the second decade of the eleventh century after an expedition to the eastern parts of the Scandinavian peninsula (probably Sweden proper), which was still heathen. In lively verses he recalls the troubles of his trip, a leaky boat, the dark forest, and poor roads. Worst is his inability to secure lodgings among the peasants who close their doors because of a holy season when each family is busy sacrificing to the elves [hmm, check and verify this statement, from Óláfs saga helga]. Most vociferous was a housewife who exclaimed: [verse] … Clearly, a woman is in charge of the álfablót, a primitive sacrifice, probably a fertility feast to assure the next harvest’ (46). Álfhildr in Heiðreks saga; note 45: ‘The álfar (elves) lived under ground and were associated with the dead. They may have been male counterparts to the dísir. For a sacrifice (veizla) to the elves, see Krm 8.22:288. 47-8 summarises ideas re shift from female-orientated cult to male with some extra ev.

49 assumed elves, völvur as pre-IE concepts adopted by IE invaders and ‘overshadowed by the divinities of the classical nordic pantheon’ (49). ‘Little is known about most of these [ON mythological] beings, but in the case of four groups—the giants, gods (divided into æsir and vanir), dwarfs, and humans—it is possible to distinguish the female element—or wonder about its absence—and to examine gender interactions’ (49)—interesting point is her division; why are gods and vanir together? Snorri has gods living in pease until women arrive, Gylfaginning (50). ‘One of the most controversial issues concerns the relationship between two groups of gods, the æsir and the vanir. Originally separate and hostile, they were reconciled after a war and, consequently, jointly responsible for the cosmos during the Present and Future. And older point of view, still finding adherents today, cast the vanir as the gods of the original agricultural inhabitants, whereas the æsir were brought by the invading and warlike Indo-Europeans. Duméxil rejected contrast for complementarity, arguing that within the Indo-European context the æsir represented the first two functions of justice and war and the vanir the third of fecundity. The two groups provided a unified religious and ideological structure fully articulated by the Indo-Europeans who became the Germanic tribes’ (50). Either way, Jochens notes that vanir and æsir are together vs giants and considers that to be the more important relationship for her stuff. NB dwarfs made by gods (in völuspá?)—contrasts with elves. And it shows the creation of an all-male species; J implies the gods would have humans this way too if the facts would permit it (52). Likewise male creation of world (cf. 51, 53). ‘…the genetic background that the gods did not have in common with the giants emerged from the enigmatic “ice man” Búri’ (53). Large number of giants and giantesses as threat to gods, who reproduce and threaten to fill whole world: ‘These perceptions suggest a masculine wish to control female reproduction and simultaneously reveal a fear of female sexuality’ (54, cf. 53-4). In ON mythology stuff, ‘nother is revealed about the origin of any of the goddesses’ (54)—they just kind of turn up in the Present. Likewise Snorri has lists of goddesss but all very vague about most of them (54-5). Óðinn oft as father, but mother more rarely mentioned; loki even gets to engender and give birth (55). Goddesses not explicitly present after Ragnarök (55).

Giants as not really sexually active, Gerðr as not really sexually aware; this being so, ‘Thus credited to the young giantess by a servant of a vanir god, Gerðr’s future ddesire fitted well with the æsir’s general perception of Freyja, the only goddess of vanir origin, and it may be more indicative of their understanding of female desire among the vanir than characteristic of the original giantesses’ (56), erm, not a very clear point but worth remembering. 57 picks up Sørenson’s point re exogamy etc. Þrymskviða’s gender inversions as showing clearly what gender roles should be (Freyja shouldn’t be vergjarn, Þórr shouldn’t be argr) (60). Lokasenna 24 has Óðinn as argr doing magic (61); ‘This is one of the most heavily glossed stanzas in the entire edda corpus. The translation is tentative…’ (61). ‘Although fragmentary, these Eddic definitions [inferred principally from Þrymskviða, lokasenna] provide the broadest delineation of gender behaviour anywhere in the entire Norse corpus. It is ironic that the full female comportment exists only in a negative print circumscribing male behavior. The corresponding female formula applied negatively to men identified women simply by their sexuality’ (61). not quite clear what she means, but important conclusion, and quotable first line. ‘The lesson from Lokasenna demonstrates that Óðinn and the other male gods could be polygynous with impunity, but sexual [62] interest, not to speak of nymphomania, was forbidden even to Freyja, the goddess of love. Married goddesses were to be faithful to their husbands and single women were to remain chaste’ (61–62).

‘The match between Skaði and Njorðr [hooked o] is of interest not only because it is well-documented by both Snorri and several Eddic poems as well as by Saxo but because it is also one of the few cases in the entire Old Norse corpus of female initiative both in the woman’s own marital fate and in larger issues’ (62). Buys the single origin of Frigg and Freyja (66), but ‘Because of her association with the vanir, Freyja is often seen as a goddess of fertility. Scholars have assumed that because her male relatives represented fertility, she did so as well, but the assumption is based on deductions from fertility goddesses elsewhere who may habe inhabited the north in more ancient times [refs n. 73]. Beyond Freyja’s linkage with gold … the nordic [67] texts contain little that confirms an identification with fertility goddesses. Instead, she is associated with love and sexuality, death and magic’ (67). ‘… this is a strange life for a love goddess. In the absence of her husband, she might be justified in finding pleasure elsewhere, but such was not the case. Not only did the gods object to her alleged affairs, but she herself twice denied the chage of nymphomania. As a symbol of love and sexuality, Freyja was intended for male consumption: sexually experienced through marriage but without a mate, she was beautiful, rich, and free to travel. Like the modern pin-up girl, she excited the fantasy of male giants, gods, dwarfs, and humans, but what she meant to women is less evident’ (67). NBs that since women can’t become einherjar, there’s no apparent option but the ‘underworld’ (only exception being Þorgerðr’s words in Egils saga) (67).

72 n. 86 refs re seiðr.

‘Early in his account Snorri introduces Iðunn as guardian of the apples. Gangleri, who receives this information, expresses concern that the gods have handed too much power over to Iðunn. It is difficult to explain this suspicion in any other way than by her gender … Through the centuries this passage must have imparted to listeners and readers the distinct impression that women could not be entrusted with responsibility’ (70). I dunno—couldn’t the concern be an eggs in one basket thing; giving them to Iðunn in fact marks out feminine territory of responsibility.

‘Old Norse seiðr is an enigmatic phenomenon on which, unfortunately, more learned commentary than trustworthy information has been generated’ (72). Snorri has Freyja not only bring seiðr to gods, but in Yngl. she’s also given the office of blótgyðja. Snorri says also, ‘When this magic (fjolkynngi [hooked o]; earlier called seiðr) is performed, so much ergi accompanies it that men (karlmonnum [hooked o]) could not participte without incurring shame, and the activity (íðrótt) was therefore taught to the priestesses (gyðjur)’ (73). Tho’ she suggests this claim itself derives from Lokasenna st. 24. Salutary (73). ‘Some scholars have assumed that the performance of seiðr involved an act of unspecified sexual perversity. One might venture, however, that the seiðr ceremony imitated heterosexual intercourse where the woman played her accustomed role of receiving, not the male member, but its substitute, the staff which was always the standard equipment of the human volur [hooked o] in charge of magic’ (74). Hmm. Notes relating to this:

90 ‘The saas contain three references to the vǫlva’s staff; [refs]. The importance of the staff is seen by the fact that the world vǫlva normally is defined as a person who carried or used a staff; another word for staff is vǫlr’; 91 ‘A tantalizing bit of evidence is contained in the word gandr and its derivative gǫndull; among several meanings of the former is “staff” and of the latter “penis”. The Latin form of the former (gandus) is used in the Historia Norvegiæ’s account of a shamanistic séance among the Lapps [ref] and the latter as a metaphor for penis in Bósa saga [ref]. Worth noticing is also the statement in Þiðreks saga that “his wife Ostacia goes out and moves her gandr. This performance we identify as the practice of seiðr and we would say that she practised seiðr for him. In ancient times it would have been done in the same way by women known as vǫlur and knowledgeable in magic” ’; 92 ‘Recent Asiatic shamanism contains the feature of transvestism … The sexual connotations of the staff are also clear from the use of the níðstǫng … Staff were also carved with pictures of men placed in postures suggesting anal intercourse’ with refs.

Cf. gandálfr of course. Some rather dodgy speculation re seiðberendr (hapax? Hyndluljóð 33) (74). ‘Since little evidence exists for these speculations, it may be necessary to conclude that to perform seiðr carried feminine connotations and therefore reflected badly on men. When divination moved from the divine to [75] the human sphere it remained a female speciality, but unlike her mythical counterpart, a human female had to use seiðr. As an accoutrement of a female profession and specifically female activity, seiðr brought shame to men even if they employed it for other magical activities’ (75). ‘In Frigg’s case, the paucity of literary references is matched by the silence of place names. Only a few localities in Sweden testify to her worship. Freyja’s popularity and worship, however, is confirmed by numerous place names derived from her, mainly from continental Scandinavia. No comparable information has surfaced about the other individual goddesses’ ref to Turville petre but also *Svarar Sigmundsson, ‘Átrúnaður og örnefni’, in Snorrastefna, ed. by Úlfar Bragason (Reykjavík, 1992), 241-54 (79). ON lit has 5 instances of the gyðja (fem of goði), all connected with Freyr (79). ‘The decline of the female element was noticeable in the transformation of the religious universe from the shadowy but powerful dísir without male counterparts to the inferior goddesses in the nordic pantheon dominated by male gods. The decline of the female element was further reflected in the lesser cultic role for human women in the worship of the combined group of the æsir and vanir than in the older worship of the dísir. The celebration of the dísir and other ancient fertility divinities nonetheless continued alongside the cult of the newer gods, and in this worship the women maintained their cultic role’ (79).

‘The older deities, overwhelmingly female, are found primarily in skaldic poetry, whereas the Poetic Edda preserves the memory of goddesses from the classical pantheon. If one moves from skaldic to Eddic poetry, a decline can be perceived in the representation of female deities’ (81), frustratingly no ref. Nice approach. 81-2 shows how Snorri downplays female roles and independence in Eddaic source, refs re völuspá 81 n. 119 (or at least chooses variants which show the same trend).

She sees in women especial and perhaps at one stage exclusive association with foresight and prophecy. Seems to amount to a defining feature of female gender in this book. Discusses ancient autheors re this, esp. Tacitus who says things like ‘They think that there is a sacred and prophetic quality in women, and so they neither reject their advice nor scorn their forecasts’ (114, from Germ. 8; cf. 113ff.) Saga ev 115-17, tho’ heavy use of Eiríks saga rauða with no (main text) mention of Isidore of Seville possibility. Hmm. Legal effort to apply útiseta to all but other sources just women again, cf. Mitchell (116-17). Male e.g. in Orkneyinga saga and this is a bit lumpily handled. She reckons that he comes thru well-respected by author (117-18). But where do these men (cf. eyrb saga too) fit in? Next page she discusses [then] unpubl diss by François-Xavier Dillmann, who ‘has demonstrated that the numerous magicians appering in the sagas of the Icelanders were distributed almost evenly between men and women, that their art was highly revered, even sought after, and that on the whole they were greatly respected in society’ (119). Hmm. ‘When the Nordic tradition originally placed only women in roles as diviners, and when the seiðr enabling human sibyls to predict had been reserved for goddess, the conclusion is near[,] that from the beginning the entire scope of wisdom had been dominated by women. Taking this as a working hypothesis, I am not content merely to accept, with Dillmann, that—contrary to assumptions drawn from a later period—women did not dominate magic in older times but that men were also involved’ (120). Demands close look at the ev.

Brief and half-baked glance at semantic ev.—did Green do better? (120-1); ‘The Burgundian code, representing the earliest fusion between Germanic and Roman law, thus allowed a man to put hiswife away for adultery, witchcraft, or violation of graves. The oldest Lombard laws from the middle of the seventh century prohibit a man from accusing a woman under his guardianship of being a witch (striga) or enchantress (masca). A century later, however, the law referred to both genders’ (121). Adam of Bremen goes with males but ‘Specific cases, however, whether among the nordic or the Germanic peoples, invariably involved women’ (121, rather scanty ref by look of it but I might be wrong).

`Jóhanna lítur út eins og álfur', DV (28 March 2009), https://www.dv.is/frettir/2009/3/28/johanna-litur-ut-eins-og-alfur/ XXXXX.

Jóhanna Katrín Friðriksdóttir, ‘Women, Bodies, Words and Power: Women in Old Norse Literature’ (unpublished doctoral thesis, University of Oxford, 2010). p. 234 nicely resists the prevailing idea that maiden-king romances kick off primarily through literary influences, and gently asserts the possible importance of an oral protean soup. 235 gets Margaret Valdemarsdatter in the picture as well as a late C14 ruling woman.

Jóhanna Katrín Friðriksdóttir, Women in Old Norse Literature: Bodies, Words, and Power (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2013). It seems Palgrave can't manage an italicised ǫ: poor! 'In medieval Icelandic secular prose, female characters function as literary vehicles to engage with some of the most contested values of the period, revealing the preoccupations, desires, and anxieties of its authors and audiences; chief among these concerns are women's access to and employment of power, and men's vulnerability' (1). '...the riddarasögur, set in southern climes, are either translated or adapted versions of Francophone courtly literature, including Arthurian romance, chansons de geste and lais, or indigenous imitations of these'; 'These sagas transport the audience into an alternate universe governed by entirely different laws, bearing little or no resemblance to those found in native Icelandic literary tradition or society' (5)--perhaps understating the degree of inventiveness found in this corpus? Barnes suggests, Jóhanna says, that like ME pop romance, these are partly for a nouveau riche audience (5). 'While maiden-kings and shield-maidens undermine the very idea that gender roles are natural, these images also appear in the discussion of sexuality: virginity and women's sexually pure behaviour is foregrounded in late medieval romances, which also feature scenes of disturbing physical and sexual violence against independent women with the purpose of making them subservient' (11). 'The maiden-king narrative appears in a significant number of indigenous romances along with several texts usually categorized as fornaldarsögur, but which contain episodes that feature the motif. They uniquely focus on a female protagonist and follow a paradigm of a young, noble, unmarried woman, usually depicted as haughty, cruel, and, early in the tradition, armed. She rules her own kingdom, rejects all her suitors and mistreats them physically, verbally, or both. However, ultimately the male hero finds a way to outwit and conquer the maiden-king, sometimes subjecting her to equal violence, and the story concludes with a traditional ending in which the two protagonists (for the main female character plays a role equal in importance to the man) marry, though sometimes they do not live so happily-ever-safter from the woman's point of view. // In this chapter, I will give an overview of the traits and characteristics of the maiden-kings, and analyze what the overwhelmingly [107] patriarchal sagas featuring this motif reveal about the preoccupations of late medieval Icelandic society. These primarily touch on issues such as gender roles, courtship, and marriage, these being the focus of these sagas; as mentioned in the introduction, the sagas served an ideological function, assimilating newly imported courtly values and behavior for Icelandic audiences, and in the process defining and upholding appropriate behavior for men and women of the dominant class. These narratives are fundamentally conservative: the ideal woman who is submissive to her father and husband is foregrounded, and a common result of the maiden-king's departure from this standard is her rape or other mistreatment and consequent loss of reputation. However, the process of assimilating new ideas is not seamless. In scenes where the male hero fails to win the woman he woos, and where she manages (temporarily) to gain the upper hand, the texts also reveal male anxieties deriving from redefined social status and power' (107-8). 'Whereas women's wisdom is appreciated and praised in many Old Norse-Icelandic texts, including some riddarasögur [see ch 2], it seems that the maiden-king's mental qualities cross the limits of what can be tolerated in terms of women's knowledge' citing Kalinke (19). Not apparent in SSF I don't think. 'Another recurrent negative attribute in these narratives is the maiden-kings' avarice. Despite ruling renowned and powerful kingdoms, [112] presumably with plenty of treasure at their disposal, they are often consumed with greed for a particular object in the possession of the suitor, and this greed is often their downfall' (111-12); relevant to SSF but interestingly greed not the downfall there. JKF links with Xian views of greed as sin. Sees a dichotomy between RSS where women fights, and RSSS where women rule (Þornbjörg in Hrólfs saga Gautrekssonar being an exception) (113). Nice analyses of Þornbjörg follow. '... it is intriguing the speculate wether the sagas might have taken on yet another, and perhaps more immediate, meaning for Icelandic audiences when a woman, Margaret Valdemarsdatter, reigned as queen consort and was the de facto rule of Scandinavia from 1375 to 1412, but it could equally reflect a situation where heiresses induced a social anxiety' (116). 'The maiden-king narratives pose a challenge to twenty-first century readers informed by feminism and the changes in women's formal rights and social position achieved particularly in the last several decades. The maiden-kings are by modern standards empowered, but their rule, often legitimate within the saga world, is nevertheless depicted as deviant, and they always marry in the end, losing the autonomy and ligitimate power they have before' (116). 'In contrast to the fornaldarsögur, however, the violence in the maiden-king texts is not enacted on a body that is Other, but on the protagonist or his companions. I argued in chapter 3that monstrous bodies signify human vulnerablity abjected onto the Other. In the riddarasögur, there is no such distancing; these acts suggest a morbid fascination with the pain that can be inflected on the human body, but also anxiety about this same violence and degradation performed not on the Other, but on a version of the privileged subject's Self, albeit in a safe and clearly enclosed narrative space' (118). Interesting. And again, SFF avoids this kind of brutal and detailed physical degradation--how does that affect our understanding of it?

Jóhannes Halldórsson (ed.), Kjalnesinga saga: Jökuls þáttr Búasonar; Víglundar saga; Króka-Refs saga; Þórðar saga hreðu; Finnboga saga; Gunnars saga Keldugnúpsfífls, Íslenzk fornrit, 14 (Reykjavík: Hið Íslenzka fornritfélag, 1959)

Johansen, Thomas, ‘When Christianity Came to Denmark: Changing Attitudes Reflected in Relevant Legends’, Arv, 54 (1998), 81-94. Looking at Kristensen corpus and finding legends handling pagn/xianity and catholic/protestant. ‘In connection with church-building a certain motif appears again and again in the legends: What [sic] was built in the daytime was demolished by ogres in the night’ (85). Cf. Bárðar saga mound-breaking; Historia Brittonum. considered 85-9 (esp. 85-7) but with some rather unconvincing demythologisation elements. Generally a bit pants.

Johansson, Karl G., 'Bergr Sokkason och Arngrímur Brandsson – översättare och författare i samma miljö', in Old Norse Myths, Literature and Society: Proceedings of the 11th International Saga Conference, 2–7 July 2000, University of Sydney, ed. by Geraldine Barnes and Margaret Clunies Ross (Sydney: The University of Sydney, Centre for Medieval Studies, 2000), pp. 181-97, http://www.arts.usyd.edu.au/arts/medieval/saga/pdf/181-johansson.pdf.‎

John, Eric, Reassessing Anglo-Saxon England (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1996)

Johnson, David F., ‘Euhemerisation Versus Demonisation: The Pagan Gods and Ælfric’s De falsis diis’, in Pagans and Christians: The Interplay between Christian Latin and Traditional Germanic Cultures in Early Medieval Europe: Proceedings of the Second Germania Latina Conference Held at the University of Groningen, May 1992, ed. by T. Hofstra, L. A. J. R. Houwen and A. A. MacDonald, Mediaevalia Groningana, 16/Germania Latina, 2 (Groningen: Forsten, 1995), pp. 35–69. [701:15.c.95.2759 NW1] Isidore a bit of a departure from Patristix cos he goes for thorough euhemerisation and not for demonisation (35–41). But ‘Bede and other Anglo-Saxon writers make relatively little use of the euhemeristic interpretation, and when the pagan gods do require mention, it is usually in a missionary context in which Psalm 96:5 is repeatedly invoked: All the gods of the heathens are demons echoes throughout’ (41). Only cites Bede and Boniface correspondence tho’. But Daniel to Boniface, Alfed briefly, Æthelweard’s Chronicon (41). And Ælfric (42 ff.). Re Snorri 42–44. ‘What distinguishes Snorri’s adaptation of the euhemeristic concept is the fact that these gods are “self-euhemerising”.’ (43), ie. it’s not later generations getting confused, but accoriding to Gylf, the folks gylf. talks to take these identities upon themselves on purpose (no chapter ref alas, probably near the end. ‘En æsir setjask þá á tal ok ráða ráðum sínum…’. See Ælfric as down on Classical gods, but careful about linking them with the A-S ones, as he could surely have done, cos Æthelweard and his son Æthelmær are partons of his and both claim descent from Woden, as do lots of kings they mention (47–61).

Johnson, Susan M., ‘Christian Allusion and Divine Justice in Yonec’, in In Quest of Marie de France: A Twelfth-Century Poet, ed. by Chantal A. Maréchal (Lewiston, 1992), pp. 161–74. Agrrement on the combination of 3 themes: inclusa theme (imprisonment of woman); shape-changing lover; son’s vengeance for father’s murder (161–62). ‘The first two motifs are sometimes found together in a single story (often with the lovers lliving happily ever after) but the addition of the vengeance motif cannot be said with certainty to exist before Marie’s Yonec’(162). ‘Until recently, only a few critics have noted that Marie draws on Christian and biblical tradition as well. Though interesting references have been noted, they have not been given enough weight in the interpretation of the lay, perhaps because the magical, pagan elements are so obvious and so necessary to the mechanics of the plot’ (162). Surveys Xian/allegorical interpretations 162; ‘All of these interpretations pay little attention to an essential feature of the story: the fact that the woman is a malmariée who has been terrible mistreated by her husband’ (163). 5 nearly symmetrical sections: 50, 160, 68, 160, 98 (NB 98 is nearly 50x2!) (163). 1 and 2 re malmariée; 3 crisis re fairy lover; 4 and 5 re revenge. ‘The portrait of the husband becomes even darker in the second section where the wife laments her fate and her long years of suffering. Much of the lament is traditional as she accuses her husband of unreasonable and unjustified jealousy, and curses her family for having arranged this unhappy marriage. But two of her statements are unusual and they introduce the first allusions to religion. When speaking of her imprisonment in the tower she says ‘Jeo ne puis al muster venir / Ne le servise Deu oïr’ (vv. 75-6). The husband not only prevents her from forming human relationships, he also denies her any comfort she might have found in religion. This suggests that his motivation is more than mere jealousy…’ (164). cF. VV. 86-90. ‘No longer simply a jealous, old man, he is now associated with darkness and hell and his cruel behaviour, his efforts to deprive his wife of all human and spiritual comfort, reveal him aas an agent of evil actively opposing the forces of good’ (164). Knight’s 1st words to lade ‘N’eiez poür’ (1219 ‘be not afriad’) ‘echo the phrase used so often in the Bible when angels appear to mortal men’ (165). NBs that the whole proving knight is Xian thing is big—46 lines re his credo in a 552 line lay (166). ‘With her allusions to religion and Christianity Marie has created an opposition between the lord and the knight which goes beyond that of the jealous, old husband and the handsome, young lover’ (166). Nasty response of husband (167), suggests proper evil she seems to imply.

Re knight’s 2nd prophecy, when he’s been impaled (ll. 327-32): ‘This is interesting in several respects. The murder of the knight in itself completely justifies the event he predicts. But the prophecy goes beyond this to state that Yonec will avenge his mother as well (‘Il vengerat e lui e li’), an important detail that will reappear when the vengeance is finally carried out. In addition, his statement parallels in both content and form certain biblical episodes in which the birth of a son is announced, his name given, and his future actions described. The annunciation to Mary (Luke 1:30-33) is a typical example. The biblical tone of his words reinforces the knight’s role as God’s representative and suggests that this violent conclusion should be seen as divine rather than earthly in its origin. Given the opposition between the two characters, it seems quite natural that the knight, as an agent of good, should announce God’s vengeance on the husband, a representative of evil and hell. Marie could have written the story without the Christian overtones, and Yonec’s action would still have been justified by his father’s murder. For Marie, however, the husband has committed two crimes: he has killed the knight and made his wife endure inhuman treatment. Both of these crimes demand that justice be done and the second prophecy suggests that Yonec’s action will be the accomplishment of God’s will’ (168). Lighted candles round knight’s corpse contrast with husband, lines 41-44. NBs last scene ‘played out in a distinctly Christian environment’ (170). cf. 170-71. NBs that tho’ Yonec is at the end, the whole lay leads up to him (see vv. 5-6)—he’s the point really (171).

Johnston, Grahame, ‘The Breton Lays in Middle English’, Iceland and the Medieval World: Studies in Honour of Ian Maxwell, ed. by Gabriel Turville-Petre and John Stanley Martin (XXXX?see UL cat for ideasXXXX, 1974) pp. 151–61. ‘In recent years a major advance in assessing the Celticity of the Old French and Middle English lays has been made by G. V. Smithers, in his paper “Story Patterns in Some Breton Lays”. Smithers has discerned three Types of story-pattern derived from Celtic sources in the Old French and Middle English specimens of the lay. As Bliss (Sir Launfal, p. 18) summarizes: // A man or woman becomes involved by some means in a liaison with a fairy. The dénouement may vary: when the mortal is a woman a child is born, whose fate is the theme of the rest of the story; when the mortal is a man he loses his fairy lover by neglecting her advice or command, but is ultimately reconciled with her. // The first of Smithers’ Types (the second in Bliss’ summary) is represented in Middle English in a pure form by the versions of the Lanval story and in a modified form [hmm…] by Sir Orfeo … Another of the Middle English lays, Sir Degaré, is regarded by Smithers after detailed examination as genuinely Cletic in material, and a blend of his second and third Types. Whether or not Smithers’ three Types are accepted in precisely the form he states them—and the argument is persuasive—he has shown abundantly the dependence of three of the Middle English lays … on Celtic sources’ (154). Reckons that these are all distinctly early (but this seems to involve just being in the Auchinleck MS) (155). + Earliest Chstre Laufal early C14 allegedly. The other ME ‘Breton lais’ late C14, and are so ‘in name only’ (156). Even reckons that the late ones are due to a boost in prestige caused by Chaucer using the form in Franklin for his own purposes (because it’s a suitable form for the Franklin—modest version of a romance just as he’s not quite a knight; and he’s a bit elderly and drawing on memory, so puts it fashionably in the past). 158-60 for this. Also his 4 earlier ones are in couplets and later ones—Emaré, The Erl of Tolous, Sir Gowther and later Launfal in tail rhyme. But NBs that ME pretty flexible this way. (160).

*Johnston, Oliver M., ‘Sources of the Lay of Yonec’, PMLA, 20 (1905), 322–38. Pro ‘celtic’. re Marie de france.

*Johnston, Sarah Iles. ª De® ning the Dreadful: Remarks on the Greek Child-Killing Demon.º In

Ancient Magic and Ritual Power, ed. Paul Mirecki and Marvin Meyer. 355± 81. Leiden: Brill, 1995. Evidence for legends about babykilling demons in classical antiquity. Ghosts of women who died before reproducing, or after failing to raise children successfully, return to in¯ ict the same fate on other women.

*Jolly, ‘Anglo-Saxon Charms in the Context of a Christian World View’, The Journal of Medieval History 11 (1985), XXXX.

Jolly, Karen Louise, Popular Religion in Late Saxon England: Elf-Charms in Context (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1996). Jolly 118:3.c.95.39 SW4. 148 translates weden heorte as ‘wooden heart’!!

‘Remedies against the attack of elves on humans or cattle form a distinct group, although they overlap with the other three Germanic elements discussed in the previous chapter. Elf remedies sometimes appear in medical manuscripts collected together, often accompanied by remedies for demonic and other mind-altering afflictions, indicating a consciousness of a similarity between these ailments. These remedies not only contained Germanic elements, particularly charms, but also included a large amont of Christian material, particularly the saying of masses. The various ways in which these tradition, elfin and demonic, charm and mass, intermingled reveal to us the gradual amalgamation process at work in late Anglo-Saxon England’ (133). ‘Elves were ambivalent, amoral creatures in Anglo-Saxon folklore’ (133). Well, maybe so, but really all we know was that they were ambivalent later, as norse gods tended to be, and that in OE we have very diverse traditions of them. Not quite the same. In fact, rather more like the situation portrayed by Snorri Sturluson. ‘Elves were thought to be invisible or hard-to-see creatures who shot their victims with some kind of arrow or spear, thus inlicting a wound or inducing a disease with no other apparent cause (elfshot) … This attack by elves was eventually linked with Christian ideas of demons penetrating or possessing animals and people, who then needed exorcism’ (134). Again, rather an assumption. ‘ “Water elf” disease was manifested in livid fingernails, tear[135]ful eyes, and looking downward’ (134-5). Point is, of course, her reading of wæterælfadle. Check facsimile.

Relevance of purgative techniques, eg. smoke, vs elves?

‘…ælfthone is specifically Germanic, lacking a clear identification in classical medicine’ (135). Not in the Anglo-Saxon Herbal, gah! ‘In addition to lupin (eluhtre, Lat. electrum), bishopwort or betony was the most commonly used herb in the elf remedies (appearing almost twenty times). Either the Anglo-Saxon bisceopwyrt or the Latin betonica, or sometimes both, recur in most of the herbal preparations studied in this chapter. This herb is also the first entry in the Anglo-Saxon Herbal, and the remarks there accord remarkably well with the spiritual/physical duality found in elf- and demon-related illnesses. “this herb, which men call betony, grows in meadows, and in clean downlands and protected places. It [is good] either for a man’s soul or his body; it shields him against dreadful nightgoers [unhyrum nihtgengum] and against fearful visions and dreams [egeslicum gesihtum ond swefnum]. This herb is very holy [haligu], and this you should gather it.” [Cockayne, i: 70]’ (135).

‘This kind of diversity in manifestation and treatment of elf afflictions was further complicated by their synthesis into the Christian-orientated view of the microcosm and macrocosm. Amoral creatures such as elves were gradually “demonized” to fit into the Good-Evil paradigm of the Christian moral universe. This process enhanced their similarity to demons. Their invisibility, their malicious attacks, and the need to “charm” them away all took on new meaning in Christian eyes so that elves began to resemble the fallen angels who seek to inflict internal and permanent harm on humans and their works, demons for Christian ritual to exorcise’ (136). Eadwine pslater 136-7; ‘Numerous illustrations in this and related psalters show demons, often with arrows attacking people or with pitchforks prodding folks into hell’ (137, with ref). ‘The demons in this illustration for Psalm 38 have a more elflike appearance in view of later iconography’ (137; good note) ‘However, I am not sure we are reading the iconography correctly or understand the worldview implicit in this picture. It is easy to call it confusion on the part of the Anglo-Saxon when we are confused by it’ (138), tho’ not sure I buy her slightly elliptical reading.

‘A few of the elf remedies are untouched by Christian elements’ (138)—only if you assume that we’re looking in, say, wið færstice an untouched pagan tradition. hmm. Re that one tho: ‘We need to be careful about two erroneous assumptions, however: first, that the lack of Christian elements (and the presence of “magic” as we see it) means that it was not Christian and, second, that if the origins of the material predate Christianity or represent an older tradition, the remedy was therefore pagan. These so-called magic or pagan elements represent areligious [sic] folklore, transferable from one religious tradition to another. This charm was evidently practiced by people in late Anglo-Saxon England who considered themselves Christian (it is in a manuscript of clerical origin) and who apparently felt no compulsion to Christianize this charm in any way beyond a brief, vague benediction. // The strong storytelling element in this remedy is compelling and may account for its retention in a relatively un-Christianized state. The song invokes ancient stories of powerful heroes and spiritual battles, particularly the image of the militant Æsir, but portrays the pagan pantheon as malicious aggressors defeated by superior power.’ (140). Cf. OS catechism—while our sources prefer generally to keep quiet about traditional gods, you don’t deny the pagan gods, but you demonise or euhemerise them. The presence of demonised pagan forces here in not a ‘pagan’ feature.

Re wið ælfsidene, ‘Eliminating the words pagan and magic from a discussion of this remedy, and using instead folklore to describe the remedy’s action, enables us to achieve a more realistic picture of such liturgical medicine’ (142). Possibly referring to sexual lust? particularly useful in reformed monastic context? (my own musing). unmælne as ‘virgin’, cf. Storms 234-5. ‘…this remedy is clearly on the clerical end of the spectrum because of the high use of ritual and equipment available only in a minster setting. Moreover, it represents a highly demonized form of the elf, here associated with demonic illusion and temptation. The remedy’s strongly liturgical flavour dominates the folklore elements…’ (142). Takes Lacnunga CXVIII ‘if a horse be shot’ as elf-shot, likewise its close relative in Leechbook. Any ev. in rubric of either? ‘The parallel remedies in the Leechbook [to those in Lacnunga] show not only the frequency of this diagnosis but also the variety of ways elf affliction was handled, indicating some uncertainty about the ailment or its cause: Was it a wound from an invisible arrow, requiring treatment with a salve? Was it some buildup of fluid that needed releasing? Was it possession by an evil being (demon or elf) that needed exorcising? Or all three?’ (144). satanae diabulus aelfae charm 144-45, refs G&S 50, Storms 294, and sez it’s C11. Hmm. XXXXcheck. p. 206, n. 42, ‘The declension of aelfae is unclear, since the ending ae (or æ?) does not correspond to any known Anglo-Saxon inflection [rubbish; but check etymology to see if it fits those which are known]; it could be either nominative or genitive, matching either Devil or Satan. However, given the inflection of the latter, satanae (gen.), it could be argued that aelfae is meant to gloss Satan.’ NB trans of the charm, which given that it’s ‘rough Latin’ (145) might be handy.

re Leechbook, ‘Although the symptoms are not entirely clear to us, and thus these associations seem confused in our thinking, early medieval minds found a logical coherence in the treatment required. Spiritual forces must be invoked to counteract ailments involving the mind or soul’ (146). Book 1 contents lxii-lxvi re fever and the ‘fiend-sick’ etc., incl. lxiv ælfsidene. Nice thematic cluster then. ‘These sections are much more descriptive than other parts of the table of contents … This section near the end of Book I specifically mentions the liturgical elements used, indicating that these Christian ingredients played a larger role in defining the remedies as a type’ (147). ‘The elf remedies in Leechbook I:lxiv thus occur in the midst of a series of remedies … concerned with demonic afflictions’ (147). lxiii (re ‘fiendsick’) uses ‘spew drink’, implying exorcism sort of job. ‘This set of remedies is much more clerical than that found in the Lacnunga. The authors or compilers seem to live according to a monstic routine, with ready access to a church, church equipment, and a priest’ (150).

Re collection listed in contents of book 2 lxv (file:///C:/elves/medical.htm#2lxv), ‘The connections between these ills are not immediately clear, especially how bowel disorders relate to fevers and various poisons that in other sections, as here, have links to malevolent causes. The remedies all contain both folklore and Christian elements. Moreover, purgation is a common remedy, which may provide the connection to the bowel ailments’ (152)—type of remedy provides rationale for organisation again then. Not sure it actually matches the remedies tho’… CheckXXXX. ‘The uncertainty about the availability of a masspriest, the specifically identified “English” herbs, and the erasures of holy oil suggest origins for these remedies partly outside the minster or monastery environment where this manuscript was compiled. The sometimes dubious connections between these remedies enhances the feeling that someone collected these remedies here somewhat haphazardly’ (154).

157: ‘water-elf disease’ again. Re III:lxi (file:///C:/elves/medical.htm#f123), ‘The conflation of folklore evils such as elves with the Christian cosmology of demonic beings is clear and logical in its own way. These are all things that go bump in the night—invisible, malicious beings who harm not only physically but also spiritually in the form of temptation’ (159). Usual assumptions about pre-Xian elves. But then, can we assume they were all sweetness and light? Surely there must have been dodgey ambivalent types around? But these are presumably the succa, scinna, þyrs, etc. XXXXTake a good look at etymology of schyhte/scucca—could be useful ev for pre-Xian possession beliefs. ‘However, his [Storms’, pp. 246-7] translation of recelsa as “smoke” rather than “cense” pushes too hard for the pagan idea of smoking an elf out, rather than the clearer liturgical meaning here of “cense and sign” ’ (159). ‘An alternative, less monastic remedy follows that offers a specifically elf-related herb to smoke out the elf through the patient’s sweat’ (161), re file:///C:\elves\medical.htm#123l36. Shows the rather odd phrasings one is led to by insisting on translating ælfadl as ‘elf’. NB castalidum in file:///c:/elves/medical.htm#123l62--is this an AS composition, or trans. from Latin?XXXX

Jolly, Karen Louise, ‘Elves in the Psalms? The Experience of Evil from a Cosmic Perspective’, in The Devil, Heresy and Witchcraft in the Middle Ages: Essays in Honor of Jeffrey B. Russell, ed. by Alberto Ferreiro, Cultures, Beliefs and Traditions, 6 (Lieden, 1998), pp. 19–44. Re Eadwine psalter, ‘The image would then be a unique portrait of these invisible, amoral creatures of Germanic and Scaninavian lore at a time when they were undergoing a Christian transformation into devils…’ (20). ‘However, a more likely explanation that this essay offers is that the later iconography of elves as delightfully mischievous little figures playing tricks on people has caused scholars such as Grattan and Singer to read an Anglo-Saxon elf into this picture of demonic affliction’ (20). ‘…a full study of demon iconography in these manuscripts [psalters] and of individual psalms would be fruitful, if only because the very presence of demons in the illustration when they are nonexistent in the literal text of the Pslams suggests an interpretative tradition rooted not only in the written glosses but in early medieval iconography’ (21). Useful stuff at http://www2.hawaii.edu/~kjolly. Pslam 37 22-33. Seems at a glance to be mainly re disease . NB arrows (v. 3), sores (v. 5), ‘iniquitates meae’ burdening back (5), illusions (v. 8). So the ‘elfy’ bit, as well as appearing an various forms in other MSS, is entirely textually derived here. No need to adduce elf-shot. Historiographical thang 24-7. (-26 is relevant generally, much as 1996).

‘Elves in Anglo-Saxon lore, as evidenced in the medicinal recipies, were invisible arrow-shooting agents of illness. However, in the Psalm 37 illustration, the spritely figures cannot be responsible for the arrows penetrating the psalmist’s body from the front, since they are flitting behind him and carry no bows. Christ is the only possible arrow-shooter, holding a bow and arrow above and in front of the psalmist’ (26). Utrecht psalter version has more angelic-looking demons (cf. figs 2 and 3, on plates between pp. 44 and 45). ‘Eadwine’s pictures do more than merely illustrate the psalm, they are themselves a form of interpretative commentary vitally connected to the psalm text and, in some cases, the glosses’ (30). A study text, not a liturgical one. glosses, and 3 versions of psalm texts in parallel.

‘Beat Brenk classifies two types of demons in the ninth through eleventh centuries, the Eidola—which Russell prefers to call imps—and the Hadestyp, a muscular humanoid type. After the eleventh century, as Russell notes, a third form emerges, the monstrous and animal shapes’ (34; Tradition and Neuerung in der christlichen Kunst des ersten Jahrtausends, Vienna 1966, pp. 196-7; Ludifer, p. 130). ‘The demonic explanation for the experience of evil, beyond the burden of sins or the illusions of the mind, comes not from Augustine but from Cassiodorus’ Exposition on the Psalms, reproduced in brief in Eadwine in a comment on verse 8, begun in interlinear and carried on [40] to the left of the Gallicanum on fol. 66v: It is the devil who afflicts the body and vexes the soul through vain imaginings, whereby there is again no health, just as above [v. 3] on account of the arrows’ (39-40). ‘The illusory, deceptive quality of demonic temptation to sins of the flesh occurring in the mind is a common-place in hagiographical literature, evident for example in Gregory the Great’s well-known Life of St. Benedict. Benedict himself is tempted with illusory women; and, as a consequence, of his recognizing this deception as demonic in origin, he can see clearly through demonic illusions’ (40).

Cool conclusion, tho’ a bit beyond me just now (42-4). Based round ‘The need for a shift in perspective from temporal to divine is the remedy for the disjunction of body and soul in the experience of evil. This experiential view of human life does not resonate with early European traditions—particularly the psalmist’s abandned state as one who is forsaken by his comrades and is tormented by non-human assailants (whether elves, demons, dwarves, or other invisible creatures known to cause ill)’ (42, nb sp. of dwarves!).

Jón Árnason (ed.), Íslenzkar þjóðsögur og ævintýri (XXXXX 1862--64). 'I must finish by offering an apology for the fact that I, and not the author of the collection, have written this introduction. The thing is that the book was printed at a great distance from the author, and the printing proceeded quicker than was anticipated; it was more swiftly necessary to collect the introduction than was intended; but a long process to contact the author out in Iceland. There were therefore two choices available: one, to let the first volume go without an introduction, or, alternatively, that mystelf and Maurer should write the introduction for swiftness[?], until the author of the collection might be given the option to write another, fuller and better. It did not seem suitable to let the reader receive the first volume without an introduction, because it is now intended that a year's wait will occur between the first and econd volume; and on the other hand it was impracticable to delay[?] printing until ships travel from Iceland in the spring. I have therefore written this in haste, and I have done so for the reason that I have been, as it were, the middle-man between both of the leading figures of this collection: Jón Árnason out in Iceland and Konráð Maurer down in Germany, because the manuscript has passed through my hands on its way from Iceland south to Germany, such that something is known to me, and its history.[?] This has therefore been caused by circumstances, [XXXIII] and not because either Maurer or myself were not more eager[?] to see the introduction from the hand of the author himself. This introduction is unsatisfactory, because it had to be done so quickly, and could no doubt have brought together much more if there had been enough time. But the deficiency would have been greater if I had not now as often used the services of Jón Sigurðsson, and if[?] the manuscripts according to which most has been written, were not here as a groundwork.//Guðbrandr Vigfússon, Jan 31st 1889'

Jón Gunnar Bernburg, 'Overthrowing the Government: A Case Study in Protest', in Gambling Debt: Iceland’s Rise and Fall in the Global Economy, ed. by E. Paul Durrenberger and Gísli Pálsson (Boulder: University Press of Colorado, 2015), pp. 63-78.

Jón Gunnar Ólafsson, `The ‘Icesaviour’ Rises: A Media Narrative Featuring a Crisis and an Online Savings Brand in Starring Roles', Rannsóknir í félagsvindum: Stjórnmálafræðideild, 12 (2011), 76--83, accessed from here 21st March 2012. Passingly useful re útrásarvíkingar concept. Emphasises importance of construction of a foreign 'other' to Icelandic identity (and everyone else's). 'Many ideas which were viewed as ‘normal’ pre-crisis are not considered so anymore. One of these is the idea that Icelanders were purely better when it came to business than others. And this ‘truth’ was part of a bigger discursive picture. // Kristín Loftsdóttir (2009) argues that the discourse present in relation to Icelanders ‘succeeding’ in business abroad, which was often likened to an ‘expansion conquest’, was a recycled strand of nationalistic discourses' (79). Citing Kristín Loftsdóttir. (2009). Kjarnmesta fólkið í heimi: Þrástef íslenskrar þjóðernishyggju í gegnum lýðveldisbaráttu, útrás og kreppu. Ritið, 9(2-3), 113-139 and Vilhjálmur Árnason, Salvör Nordal, & Kristín Ásgeirsdóttir. (2010). Siðferði og starfshættir í tengslum við fall íslensku bankanna 2008. In Páll Hreinsson, Sigríður Benediktsdóttir & Tryggi Gunnarsson (Eds.), Aðragandi og orsakir falls íslensku bankanna 2008 og tengdir atburðir (Volume 8, pp. 170-178). Reykjavík: Rannsóknarnefnd Alþingis.

Jón Helgason (ed.), Heiðreks saga: Hervarar saga ok Heiðreks konungs, Samfund til udgivelse af gammel nordiskbrodeur litteratur, 48 (Copenhagen: Samfund til udgivelse af gammel nordisk litteratur, 1924) [752:01.d.2.46]

Jón Helgason, `Inngangur', in Kvæðabók úr Vigur, AM 148, 8^vo, Íslenzk rit síðari alda, 2 flokkur. Ljósprentanir, 1 a--b, 2 vols (Copenhagen: Hið Íslenzka Fræðafélag, 1955), ii. ii 7--14 quick guide to who Magnús is and what books are connected with him.

Jón Helgason (ed.), The Arna-Magnean Manuscript 674a, 4to: Elucidarius, Manuscripta Islandica, 4 (Copenhagen, 1957).

Jón Helgason (ed.), Tvær kviður fornar: Vọlundarkviða og Atlakviða (Reykjavík: Heimskringla, 1966)

* Jón Hnefill Aðalsteinsson, Þjóðtrú og Þjóðfræði (Reykjavík, 1985), pp. 115-120. Re. ‘we also hear of beings which appear to be closely related to elves. Such are land spirits (who appear in many contexts), and the ármaðr or fertility spirit who is said to have protected cattle and the houshold [sic] of farmers’ 1990: 120.

*, Jón Hnefill Aðalsteinsson, ‘Norræn trú’, Íslenzk þjóðmenning 5, 354 f.

Jón Hnefill Aðalsteinsson, ‘Folk Narrative and Norse Mythology’, Arv: Nordic Yearbook of Folklore, 46 (1990), 115–22. Repr. as ‘Giants and Elves in Mythology and Folktales’, in A Piece of Horse Liver: Myth, Ritual and Folklore in Old Icelandic Sources, trans. by Terry Gunnell and Joan Turville-Petre (Reykjavík: Háskólaútgáfan, 1998), pp. 129–41. More on the nature of elves in SnE, Edda etc. 116-17 emphs widespread character of master-builder story in SnE (no need then to worry re Eyrbyggja saga); cf. Johansen 1998; Alver and Selberg 1987, 41. 120-122 re elf-trads. 121 has a bit to say about dominance of females among elves. This rise in importance of female elfy stuff characteristic of high medieval lit? Something in here about how giants etc. always have to abide by their oath? Useful ref if so: it’s that rule which makes them such powerful instruments of social normalisation, in that as long as you behave according to custom, they are powerless.

Jón Hnefill Aðalsteinsson, ‘The Testimony of Waking Consciousness and Dreams in Migratory Legends Concerning Human Encounters with Hidden People’, Arv: Nordic Yearbook of Folklore, 49 (1993), 123-31. Just stuff about Icelandic elves really.

Jón Hnefill Aðalsteinsson, ‘The Varðlokkur of Guðriður Þorbjarnardóttir’, in Northern Lights: Following Folklore in North-Western Europe. Aistí in adhnó do Bho Almqvist/Essays in Honour of Bo Almqvist, ed. by Séamus Ó Catháin (Dublin: University College Dublin Press, 2001), pp. 97–110. Rather meandering. 98–100 on previous efforts to interpret varðlok(k)ur in Eiríks saga rauða. I think the last para hits on something useful: ‘As was mentioned above, the most common meaning of the word ‘warlock’ is that of a male magician, but on some of the Scottish islands the term was also applied to witches and magical incantations. [109] In this discussion I have emphasised the latter interpretation. If one considers all the available evidence, there is nothing that copletely excludes the possibility of magical incantations being referred to using the expression ‘warlock’ in Scotland. Subsequently it would have taken very little for the word to change into ‘varðlokkur’ in the mouths of the Icelanders. In light of the above discussion, my conclusion about the connection between the words ‘warlock’ and ‘varðlokkur’ is that, originally, the word ‘varðlokkur’ was most likely a distorted version of the Scottish word ‘warlock’, in the sense of a magical poem, used also in reference to magical incantations or songs. Therefore, the terms ‘varðlokkur’ and ‘varðlokur’ have probably never had any independent significance in the Icelandic language’ (108–9).

Jón Jóhannesson, Magnús Finnbogason and Kristján Eldjárn, Sturlunga saga, 2 vols (Reykjavík: Sturlunguútgáfan, 1946)

Jón Karl Helgason, Ferðalok: Skýrsla handa akademíu (Reykjavík: Bjartur, 2003)

Jón Karl Helgason, `Continuity? The Icelandic Sagas in Post-Medieval Times', in A Companion to Old Norse-Icelandic Literature and Culture, ed. by Rory McTurk (Oxford: Blackwell, 2005), pp. 64--81. Marginal comments 'testify more generally to the tendency of the Icelandic audience to think about the saga plot in terms of heroes and villains. // More evidence for this claim will be presented below, bu one should bear in mind that it is quite possible that more ironic attitudes towards saga heroes circulated within the society of these early times, particularly among women (cf. Kress 1996, 101--34). However, the evidence for such views is scarce' (66).

Jón Karl Helgason, `A Poet’s Great Return: Jónas Hallgrímsson’s Reburial and Milan Kundera’s Ignorance', Scandinavian-Canadian Studies/Études scandinaves au Canada, 20 (2011), 52--61. (p. 53), http://scancan.net/article.pdf?id=helgason_1_20 (PDF), http://scancan.net/article.htm?id=helgason_1_20 (XHTML). 'In a recent book on Icelandic nationalism, historian Guðmundur Hálfdanarson draws attention to the fact that many politicians that spoke publicly when Iceland won its independence in 1944 referred to that event as a return. This idea was clearly expressed in a speech delivered by Prime Minister Ólafur Thors (1892–1964), who said on this occasion: “Fellow Icelanders, we have come home. We are a free nation” (Þjóðhátíðarnefnd 263). Hálfdanarson suggests that Thors’s imagery was inspired by the idea that the independent nation state was “not primarily a mode of government but a home, where the nation could finally find peace in its own country … Hence, it seemed natural to institute the republic at Thingvellir, the place where that nation assumed it could find its symbolic origins, the place where the ancient republic and the new one became unified” (7–8). But what is the goal of a nation that has already experienced the realization of its greatest dream, reached its final destination? The answer to this question may lie in Irena's reflections about the life that waited Odysseus back in Ithaca. It is indeed tempting to compare such a nation to an aging hero who is preoccupied with the memories of his past achievements, his most thrilling adventures. The greatest dream of such a nation is to experience again its glorious moment of triumph. In fact, there are several events in the recent history of the Icelandic nation that can be interpreted as attempts to repeat the Great Return of 1944. The best example is Iceland's successful struggle to reclaim its ancient manuscripts from Denmark. This effort, which formally ended in 1971, was in some respects an extension of the country's fight for independence. The return of Hallgrímsson's bones was a related enterprise, as Kundera clearly suggests, when he claims that the soul of the poet had complained to the industrialist that his skeleton had for a hundred years “lain in a foreign land, in the enemy country” (111).'

Jón Karl Helgason, „Samhengi valdsins“, Hugrás, vefrtímarit Hugvísindastofnunar Háskóla Íslands, Sótt af vefnum 20. apríl: http://www.hugras.is/2011/11/samhengi-valdsins/.

Jón Karl Helgason, `Samhengi hlutanna', in Hrunið, þið munið: Gagnabanki um samtímasögu, ed. by Guðni Th. Jóhannesson, Jón Karl Helgason, and Markús Þórhallsson (Reykjavík: Háskóli Íslands, 2014--), https://hrunid.hi.is. http://hrunid.hi.is/skaldskapur/samhengi-hlutanna/

Jón Yngvi Jóhannsson, `Lesið í skugga hrunsins: Um skáldsögur ársins 2009', Tímarit Máls og menningar, 71.4 (November 2010), 81--98. Re Paradísarborgin: 'En allt er þetta býsna fyririsjáanlegt og á köflum virkar sagan hraðsoðin og lítið unnin þegar meginhugmyndinni sleppir' (94). 'Sælir eru einfaldir eftir Gunnar Gunnarsson [...] endar á hálfgerðri uppgjöf sögumannsins sem hefur orðið vitni að ragnarökum dauða og brjálsemi. Henn getur ekki boðið upp á aðrar lausnir en þær sem felast í orðunum: "Verið góðir hver við annan". Gæsku lýkur á svipuðum boðskap. Í lok sögunnar stendur ekki annað til boða en að mæta vandamálunum með goðmennskuna og gæskuna að vopni. Og að lokum er eins og írónían sé endanlega á bak og burt. Lausnin eru ekki einföld, það er hæpið að hún sé framkvæmanleg, en hún er það eina sem er í boði' (97).

Jón Þorkelsson. 1875--89. Om håndskrifterne af Njála. In Njála. Udgivet efter gamle håndskrifter af Det kongelige nordiske oldskriftselskab, ed. Konráð Gíslason and Eiríkur Jónsson, 2 vols, II pp. 665–783. Copenhagen: Det kongelige nordiske oldskrift-selskap. https://archive.org/details/njalaudgivetefte02kobeuoft.

**Jón Þorkelsson, et al. (eds), Diplomatarium islandicum. Íslenzkt fornbréfasafn, sem hefir inni að halda bréf og gjörninga, dóma og máldaga, og aðrar skrár, er snerta Ísland eða íslenzka menn (Copenhagen: Hið íslenzka bókmentafélag, 1857-1932). http://baekur.is/bok/000197700/Islenzkt_fornbrefasafn__sem I, no. 71 re Norwegian archbishop attributing impotence to witchcraft (med gioningvm) or inherited illness.

Jönas Kristjánsson, Eddas and Sagas: Iceland's Medieval Literature, trans. by Peter Foote (Reykjavík: Hið íslenska bókmenntafélag, 1988). 341 only mention of Sigurðar saga fóts: Rafn defined the genre, 'But it would be altogether more appropriate for instance to class as heroic sagas tales such as those of Sigurðr fótr, Vilmundr viðutan, Áli flekkr and Þjalar-Jón' (341).

Jónas Kristjánsson, ‘Ireland and the Irish in Icelandic Tradition’, in Ireland and Scandinavia in the Early Viking Age, ed. by Howard B. Clarke, Máire Ní Mhaonaigh and Raghnall Ó Floinn (Dublin, 1998). 268–72 outlines ev. For bad male Irish slaves; 272–74 for noble/beautiful Irish slave-girls. But he only has a couple of examples for each, so you wouldn’t want to cite it as definitive. Check Hermann Pálsson 1996?

Jónas Kristjánsson (ed.), Dínus saga Drambláta, Riddarasögur, 1 (Reykjavík: Háskóli Íslands, 1960).

Viktors saga ok Blávus, ed. by Jónas Kristjánsson, Riddarasögur, 2 (Reykjavík: Handritastofnun Íslands, 1964). pp. xc-xci seems that two of the earliest VS MSS can be localised palaeographically to the Vestfirðir, while the other main MS is Stockholm perg. 7--same pattern as for Nikulás saga, therefore, with a major distribution in the Westfjords, but appearance also in Stockholm Perg 7? Paper MSS of Viktors saga seem to mirror this (xci-xcii).

Jónas Kristjánsson, ''Um fóstbræðrasögu'', Rit (Stofnun Árna Magnússonar á Íslandi), 1 (Reykjavík: Stofnun Árna Magnússonar, 1972).

*Jones, Gwyn, Kings, Beasts and Heroes (Oxford: OUP 1972) [gen lit E540 JON]

Jones, Siân, The Archaeology of Ethnicity: Constructing Identites in the Past and Present (London, 1997)

*Jones, M., and G. Dimbleby (eds), The Environment of Man: The Iron Age to the Anglo-Saxon Period, BAR BS 87 (1981)

Jones, Timothy, ‘Geoffrey of Monmouth, Fouke le Fitz Waryn, and National Mythology’, Studies in Philology, 91 (1994), 233–49. Looks dead handy, good on monsters apparently. ‘However, roughly the first third of the romance is spent on events which take place before Fouke is born, detailing the history of the Normans and the Fitz Waryn family on the Welsh border. The presence of this background is just as important, I would argue, for the defense of Fouke’s actions as the later char[235]acterization of his outlawry, for the author has not only understood his rebellion in terms of feudal values, but also its place in history. Thus, like Geoffrey of Monmouth in the Historia Regum Britanniae, the author of Fouke le Fitz Waryn incorporates the Brut tradition, but unlike Geoffrey, he does not make it his primary myth of origins, for it is, after all, pagan. Instead, the native British myth is replaced by a new, Norman and Christian one based on the heroic character of Christian knights and the patterns of spiritual warfare found in medieval saints’ lives’ (234-5). Re Payn’s monster fight: summary 235; topos of neglect (literary irrelevant, historical innaccuracy) 235-6. No effort to set up Fouke with Trojan origins etc: ‘There is no elaborate genealogy, no secret lover, lost cousin, bastard child set adrift, or other romance convention by which an heir might be found for an ancient crown. Instead, our author undercuts the Brut myth by showing it to be incomplete, by making it incapable of overwhelming the barbaric and demonic force of Geomagog. The full victory is claimed only by the Normans, and their myth replaces rather than augments the Brut’ (237). ‘According to Geoffrey, the land of Albion prior to the advent of the Trojans was a country “inhabited by no one but a few giant men [a nemine exceptis paucis hominibus gigantibus inhabitabantur]” (237, quoting Wright Bern MS ed., 21). Trojans civilise land with fields and homes, giants attack on pagan holy dayas, Trojans defeat them (238). This narrative with Fouke sets up complex parallels with arrival of heathen Icelanders and conversion. 238-9 emphs how Welsh are called Bretoun, emphs how they are still stuck with the Brutus paradigm. More on implications of survival of Geomagog viewed thru Geoff 239. Fouke development of Geomagog’s nastiness 239-40; shows how formulaic paradigm of SS lives is used in the account 240. Close parallels with St. Margaret’s dragon-fight, v. pop. in medieval England in lat, Eng and AN, probably directly used 241-6 (most striking parallel dialogue between hero and demon, 243-4). NBs John as supporting one of the Brutus race vs. legit Norman type (249).

Jones, W. H. S. (ed. and trans.), Pliny: Natural History, with an English Translation in Ten Volumes, Volume VIII, Libri XXVIII–XXXII (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1963). XXX.xxiv re ills that threaten the whole body, and what foolish things Magi say to do about them. Finishing with ‘Again, the Magi tell us that sprinkling with wole’s blood restores to their senses the delirious, while those who are haunted by night ghosts and goblins are freed from their terrors if tongue, eyes, gall, and intestines of a python are boiled down in wine and oil, cooled by night in the open air, and used as embrocation night and morning’ (333); ‘rursus Magi tradunt lymphaticos sanguinis talpae adspersu resipiscere, eos vero qui a nocturnis diis Faunisque agitentur draconis lingua et oculis et felle intestinisque in vino et oleo decoctis ac sub diu nocte refrigeratis perunctionibus matutinis vespertinisque liberari’ (332).

The Types of the Scandinavian Medieval Ballad: A Descriptive Catalogue, edited by Bengt R. Jonsson, Svale Solheim and Eva Danielson, in collaboration with Mortan Nolsøe and W. Edson Richmond, published in 1978 in two places: as volume 5 of the series Skrifter utgivna av svenskt visarkiv (Stockholm: Svenskt visarkiv), and as volume 59 of series B of Oslo's Instituttet for sammenkignende kulturforskning (The Institute for Comparative Research in Human Culture) (Oslo, Bergen, and Tromsø: Universitetsforlaget; ISBN 82-00-09479-0).

Jonsson, Bengt R., ‘Sir Olav and the Elves: The Position of the Scandinavian Version’, Arv: Nordic Yearbook of Folklore, 48 (1992), 65-90. NB ‘I am convinced that behind the elf story in the Scandinavian “Elveskud”/“Sir Olav” and in a French counterpart (of which the Breton gwerz is a translation) lies a lost French lai narratif. The same is the case with “Jungfrun i hindhamm” and its equivalent “La Blanche Biche”, p.89.

Jordan‚ Louis‚ ‘Demonic Elements in Anglo-Saxon Iconography’‚ in Sources of Anglo-Saxon Culture‚ edited by Paul E. Szarmach‚ Studies in Medieval Culture‚ 20 (Kalamazoo‚ 1986)‚ pp. 283-317. ‘What are the sources of the demonic elements so prominent in representations of the devil since the [284] Romanesque period? In answering this question I believe that there are basiclly three different elements that led to the distinctive iconography of the devil: first‚ the Anglo-Saxon contribution; second‚ the Spanish contribution through the dissemination of illuminated manuscripts such as the Beatus Apocalypse Commentaries; and third‚ the influence of a combination of classical and Byzantine elements that were assimilated into some areas of carolingian art’ (283-4). Discussed Sutton Hoo purse lid and analogues 287-90. ‘During this early period demonic iconography was closely associated with beasts and monsters’ (290). ‘These poems [XSn‚ GenB‚ Jul]‚ along with the Bible and the writings Gregory the Great‚ influenced the works associated with the monastic reform initiated by Saint Dunstan. In the Life of Saint Guthlac Satan is equated with various wild animals‚ including a roaring lion with bloody teeth‚ a bellowing bull‚ a bear gnashing its teeth‚ a howling wolf‚ a whinnying horse‚ a belling stag‚ and a hissing serpent. Ælfric‚ abbot of Eynsham‚ and Wulfstan‚ archbishop of York‚ use many similar images in their homilies [cf. Galpern 144-5]. Ælfric even goes on to say that monstrous creatures were created for the punishment of evil deeds. It is in this mileu that we find the first Anglo-Saxon pictorial representations of Satan’ (290). ‘However‚ although the Anglo-Saxons were influenced by Carolingian iconography‚ they were not mere copiers. In the Leofric drawing [pp. 291-2‚ ie plates 7-8] they created a new image of Satan by incorporating Carolingian elements into their zoomorphic tradition. By accentuating the beastly qualities and adding taloned hands and feet and spurs‚ they produced a figure that was far more menacing than its predecessors’ (295). Many elements look like Utrecht psalter‚ see (293-5). The theme of demonising demons traced pp. 295-306.

Jordan‚ Louis, ‘Demonic Elements in Anglo-Saxon Iconography’‚ in Sources of Anglo-Saxon Culture‚ edited by Paul E. Szarmach‚ Studies in Medieval Culture‚ 20 (Kalamazoo‚ 1986)‚ pp. 283–317; Clemoes, pp. 16–19.

Jordan, Richard, Handbook of Middle English Grammar: Phonology, rev. and trans. by Eugene Joseph Cook, Janua Linguarum, Series Practica, 218 (The Hague, 1974) [779.b.37.214]

*Jorgensen, Peter Alvin, 'The extant Icelandic translations from Middle English', Thesis (Ph. D.)--Harvard University, 1972. Details der Publikation Download http://worldcat.org/oclc/76986776

Jorgensen, Peter A., 'The Icelandic Translations from Middle English', in Studies for Einar Haugen Presented by Friends and Colleagues, ed. by Evelyn Scherabon Firchow, Kaaren Grimstad, Nils Hasselmo and Wayne A. O'Neill, Janua Linguarum, series maior, 59 (The Hague: Mouton, 1972), pp. 305-20. By identifying ME antecedents for some Icelandic exempla and discussing related evidence for the date of Jónatas ævintýri, Jorgensen argues that the influence of the exemplum on Viktors saga shows that 'Viktors saga must have been written after the beginning of English ecclesiastical influence in Iceland (ca. 1429) and before the first extant manuscript of the saga (ca. 1470)' (316). Moreover, the derivative Viktorsrímur fornu rhymes vá with á 'generally considered characteristic of only the oldest rímur' (319) suggesting it's no later than c. 1450. So Viktors saga would be maybe c.1440 (319). 'The only saga for which the evidence strongly indicates a borrowing from Viktors saga is Sigrgarðs saga frækna. This relationship would pose no challenge to the mid fifteenth-century dating of Viktors saga, since the borrower is first attested in a late fifteenth-century manuscript, allowing ample time for the original composition to have borrowed motifs from Viktors saga' (318): the sleeping potion, the three nights of failed sex ending in the hero being beaten up, the hero changing shape with a merchant, flying carpet. I'd better read VS! (318). VS attested first and the motifs make more sense there (318-19)--goblet in VS has a false bottom, so the queen drinking first makes sense, whereas in SS it doesn't; flying carpet more fully integrated. Jorgensen works on the assumption that the handling of motifs is more likely to get less coherent than more coherent--questionable?

Jorgensen, Peter A., ‘Additional Icelandic Analogues to Beowulf’, in Sagnaskemmtun: Studies in Honour of Hermann Pálsson on his 65th Birthday, 26th May 1986, ed. by Rudolf Simek, Jónas Kristjánsson and Hans Bekker-Nielsen (XXXXcheck in UL, book is confusing 1986), pp. 201-8. Survey of analogues then found 201. Summary of Bear Son Tale(/alternative name Tale of the Three Stolen Princesses). Includes specially hafted sword on the wall drawn thru external aid, but mentions it not as light. Maybe try *P. A. Jorgensen, ‘The Gift of the Useless Weapon in Beowulf and the Icelandic Sagas’, ANF 96 (1979), 82-90. Cites also *F. Panzer, Studien zur germanischen Sagengeschichte I (Munich, 1910).

Jorgensen, Peter A. (ed.), The Story of Jonatas in Iceland, Stofnun Árna Magnússonar á Íslandi, 45 (Reykjavík: Stofnun Árna Magnússonar á Íslandi, 1997). lxxxv-xcv 'Dating and Provenance of the Original Icelandic Translation'. Quite tentative re Jón Viljámsson Craxton's role but notes that his notary Jón Egilsson could have done the job. Probably pre c. 1440 and after c. 1420 or 1430. clvi- 'Literary Borrowings'. Re partial derivation of Viktors saga ok Blávus (earliest MSS 2nd half C15) clvi-clviii; partial descent of V's saga from Gibbons (C14 MSS) clviii-clx, itself drawing on Rémundar saga keisarasonar (clxiv) (contra Einar Ólafur Sveinsson who thought V's was the source for G's; Jorgensen sounds convincing but I haven't read the texts); Sigrgarðs saga clx-clxiv. 'It is highly unlikely that Sigrgarðs saga supplied their common motifs to Viktors saga, since the manuscripts of the latter are older and more frequent' (clxxi)--NB that Sigrgarðs saga is in more MSS than the 29 claimed for Viktors by Jorgensen. Re the goblet scene, 'In Sigrgarðs saga, however, the queen picks up a golden vessel and the hero has her drink first, but then he promptly falls asleep before the queen has even finished drinking. When the author of Sigrgarðs saga repeats the scene on the following evening, the hero is said to be on his guard against drinking too much, but then he commands his servant to bring him something to drink. This time it is he who partakes first but the queen falls asleep. After dismissing all the servants, however, the hero once again falls asleep. It seems clear that the compiler of Sigrgarðs saga has attempted to substitute an overindulgence of alcohol for the sleeping potion in a double-bottomed goblet found in his model. In doing so the compiler failed to rebuild the scenes in a logical fashion' (clxii). Disses the flying carpet scene in Sigrgarðs too; 'All of the authorial embellishment in Sigrgarðs saga is for naught, however, since the queen subsequently has no difficulty at all in recognising her rejected suitor' (clxiii). Reasonable enough, but rereading probably viable--recognition shows how cunning she is and how hapless Sigrgarðr is. Thus Sigrgarðs saga must be later than Jónatas Ævintýri (1429-34 as dated on p. clxiii), as must be Viktors; Viktors older than earliest rímur etc. as in 1972 article, with terminus ad quem for Sigrgarðs being the date of the earliest MS, last quarter of C15: clxiii-clxv. Gives Sigrgarðs as 'ca. 1460' in stemma on p. clxiv. Further dating arguments to clxvii of indirect relevance to Sigrgarðs. The story itself is pretty hilarious but Jorgensen's edn tantalisingly omits the moral, in accordance with his MSS.

*Judd, Elizabeth, ‘Women before the Conquest: A Study of Women in Anglo-Saxon England’, Papers in Women’s Studies, 1 (1974), 127–49.

Júliana Björnsdóttir, 'A Stupid Man Built his Home on Sand: A Filmed Response to the Icelandic Banking Crisis', in World Film Locations: Reykjavík, ed. by Jez Connolly and Caroline Whelan (Bristol: Intellect Books, 2012), pp. 24--25. http://books.google.co.uk/books?id=7em2oTwjfisC&. Quick summary of a few films about the crisis. kreppa. hrunið.

Juster, A. M., Saint Aldhelm's "Riddles". translated by A.M. Juster, University of Toronto Press, 2015

K

Kaiser, Charlotte, Krankheit und Krankheitsbewältigung in den Isländersagas Medizinhistorischer Aspekt und erzähltechnische Funktion (Cologne: Seltmann & Hein, 1998).

Kaivola-Bregenhøj, Annikki, Riddles: Perspectives on the Use, Function and Change in a Folklore Genre, Studia Fennica Folkloristica, 10 (Helsinki: Finnish Literature Society, 2016). DOI: http://dx.doi.org/10.21435/sff.10.

Kala, Tiina, `Languages in a Medieval North European City: An Example from Medieval Tallinn', in Frontiers in the Middle Ages: Proceedings of the Third European Congress of Medieval Studies (Jyväskylä, 10-14 June 2003), ed. by O. Merisalo and P. Pahta, Textes et Études du Moyen Âge, 35 (Louvain-la-Neuve: Fédération Internationale des Instituts d'Études Médiévales, 2006), pp. 585-603. `The surviving evidence indicates that the position held by the three main languages used in medieval Tallinn--Latin, German and Estonian--changed over time. Up until the middle of the fourteenth century, Latin was the official language of legal documents and acts of legal importance, the relevance of which to real life it is impossible to estimate. During the fourteenth century, it lost this position to German, which from then on remained the official language of record-keeping. / Judging by the Estonian words and names recorded in German texts, the idea of writing down elements of the Estonian language was not alien to a literate German-speaking person. However, Estonian did not cross the barrier of literacy in business. / The development observed in different parts of Europe, where the languages of colonists and local inhabitants existed side by side, bringing about both ethnic and linguistic segregation reaches Estonia in [603] its more extreme forms relatively late. In the sources these tendencies only become more evident during the sixteenth century. It is possible to talk about the establishment of real barriers between different languages in medieval Tallinn only in connection with the Reformation. By this time, Latin had lost its position, both as the language of the normative and of the sacred acts--the use and influence of German had also extended to these fields. The Estonian language became more and more restricted to narrowly fixed spheres and walks of life, along with its speakers' (602-3).

Kalinke, Marianne E., `The Foreign Language Requirement in Medieval Icelandic Romance', The Modern Language Review, 78 (1983), 850-61. Stable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/3729495

Kalinke, Marianne E. and P. M. Mitchell, Bibliography of Old Norse–Icelandic Romances, Islandica, 44 (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1985)

Kalinke, Marianne E., 'Norse Romance (Riddarasögur)', in Old Norse-Icelandic Literature: A Critical Guide, ed. by Carol J. Clover and John Lindow (XXXXX 1985), pp. 316-63. 'Critical assessment of them individually has been deemed superfluous' (316). Good point. Does she follow it up later? Check sometime. Passing mentions of Sigurðar saga fóts but nothing noteworthy.

*Kalinke, Marianne E., ‘The Misogamous Maiden Kings of Icelandic Romance’, [either Scripta Islandica or Saga Íslands—her abbrev. is ambiguous here!! Jochens 1996 XXXX], 37 (1986), 47–71. Rev in Kalinke 1990 ch 3.

Kalinke, Marianne E., Bridal-Quest Romance in Medieval Iceland, Islandica, 46 (Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University Press, 1990). 'The individuality and nonconformity of some of the characters in Icelandic narrative--be they male or female--set them apart from their counterparts in the better-known continental romances. Moreover, Icelandic bridal-quest romance may be said to represent in some cases an evolution of the genre, inasmuch as the hero generates the plot, as it were, and not vice verse, as in, for example, many a French and German romance' (viii). 'In Viktors saga ok Blávus Viktor travels to India, accompanied by his foster-brother Blávus, to propose marriage to the maiden king Fulgida' (77), hmm, not in the account I know. Different MS, or has she just forgotten what happens? 'If, as M. F. Thomas has suggested, "the shaving and tarring of the head symbolises the plunge of the well-born to the lowest depths of social inferiority, the prevention of recognition of their [78] true rank", then this form is punishment meted out by maiden kings to wooers presumptuous enough to think that they are qualified marriage partners is fitting' (78). Interesting. Makes sense. 'The author of Hrólfs saga kraka presumably knew at least one maiden-king romance, probably either Viktors saga ok Blávus or Sigurðar saga þǫgla, and recognized the similarity of the incidents related in Skjǫldunga saga ... and some of the essential components of a maiden-king tale' (95).

Kalinke, Marianne, ‘Víglundar saga [sic re italics]: An Icelandic Bridal-Quest Romance’, Skáldskaparmál, 3 (1994), 119–43. ÍSS type setting, but, she argues, self-consciously a RSS type story, not an failed ÍS. Plenty of sources from ÍSS and RSS/FSS (120-21), esp. Friðjófs saga. Plot summary 122-23; lots of local colour like horse-fights, theft of livestock; hired sorceress; verse; opens in Norway; but plot is romance. ‘It is somewhat unusual for the protagonist of a romance to resort to abduction; such an expedient is usually reserved for antagonists. The reason for this may be [127] the implicit realization—even in the realm of fiction—that abduction ordinarily does not lead to marriage. In Sigurðar saga fóts occurs an abduction closely resembling that in Víglundar saga, in the sense that the abductor is the rival suitor whom the bride loves, but who has been given by her father against her will to another suitor. Just as in Víglundar saga, the lights are suddenly extinguished at the wedding feast, and when they are lit again the bride has disappeared (LMIR, III:238–39). Rather unexpectedly, however, the abductor does not marry the bride in Sigurðar saga fóts, even though she loves him, and instead eventually returns her, inviolate, to the lawful husband (LMIR, III:243–44)’ (126–27). Haven’t read the rest of the article—check out the saga and follow up: some connection? Which came first? Apparently Viglundar saga follows quite a lot of others, listed by Jóhannes Halldórsson, xxv-xxxiiche, in his edn, for which no proper ref. is given. E.g.s given by Kalinke are Friðjófs saga, Þorsteins saga Víkingssonar, Hjálmþés saga ok Ölvís, Flóvents saga, Mágus saga, Hrings saga ok Tryggva, and Bárðar saga Snæfellsáss (p. 120 fn 7).

Kalinke, Marianne, ‘Transgression in Hrólfs saga kraka’, in Fornaldarsagornas struktur och ideologi: Handlingar från ett symposium i Uppsala 31.8–2.9 2001, ed. by Ármann Jakobsson, Annette Lassen and Agneta Ney, Nordiska texter och undersökningar, 28 (Uppsala: Uppsala Universitet, Institutionen för nordiska språk, 2003), pp. 157–71.

Kalinke, Marianne, 'Clári saga: A Case of Low German Infiltration', Scripta Islandica: Isländska sällskapets ärbok, 59 (2008), 5-25. 11-13 re Björn Þorleifsson, who translated the MLG exempla that comprise Reykjahólabók (I got from her article the idea that this was in c. 1370s ish but Hughes 2008 suggests it's early C16 and his phrasing is clearer)--examples of faux amis, mistranslations, but also MLG influence. Some quite nice stuff on Latin through the text too, including two cases of translating Latin words explicitly. P. 21 and note 37 for the MS on which Bjarni Bjarnarson based his 1884 popular edn of Clarus saga.

Kalinke, Marianne, review of Tiodielis saga. Edited by Tove Hovn Ohlsson. Rit, 72. Reykjavík: Stofnun Árna Magnússonar í íslenskum fræðum, 2009. Pp. cxlv + 106. $27, Journal of English and Germanic Philology, 110 (2011), 394--95.

Kalinke, Marianne E., Stories Set Forth with Fair Words: The Evolution of Medieval Romance in Iceland (Cardiff: University of Wales Press, 2017).

Kålund, Kr., Alfræði Íslenzk: islandsk encyklopædisk litteratur, 3 vols (Copenhagen: Samfund til udgivelse af gammel nordisk Litteratur, 1908–18). NB vol 2 done with N. Beckman. What to do about this?

Kalygin, Victor, ‘Some Archaic Elements of Celtic Cosmology’, Zeitschrift für celtische Philologie, 53 (2003), 70–76. About termslike Elfydd, Annwfyn etc. But not very interesting or seemingly convincing.

*Kamowski, William, ‘Chaucer and Wyclif: God’s Miracles against the Clergy’s Magic’, The Chaucer Review, 37 (2002), 5-25

*Kamppinen, Matti, Cognitive Systems and Cultural Models of Illness: A Study of Two Mestizo Peasant Communities of the Peruvian Amazon, FF Communications, 244 (Helsinki, 1989). Looks like it has good intro on cognitive anthropology etc.

Kaplan, Merrill, Thou Fearful Guest: Addressing the Past in Four Tales in Flateyjarbók, Folklore Fellows' Communications, 301 (Helsinki: Suomalainen Tiedeakatemia, 2011).

Merrill Kaplan, ‘Once More on the Mistletoe’, in News from Other Worlds: Studies in Nordic Folklore, Mythology and Culture in Honor of John F. Lindow, ed by Merrill Kaplan and Timothy R. Tangherlini, Occasional Monographs Series, 1 (Berkeley: North Pinehurst Press, 2012), pp. 36–60, https://www.academia.edu/2233727.

Karg-Gasterstädt, Elisabeth and Theodor Frings, Althochdeutsches Wörterbuch (Berlin, 1968–). S.v. alb

alb st. n. m. ?, mhd. alp, alb, m. n., nhd. alb, alp m.; mnd. mnl. alf m.; ae. ælf m. f.; an. álfr.— Graff I, 242 nur in namen.

alp: acc (lat. pl.) Gl 2,403,33 (Prag VIII H 4, 11Jh.).

alb: nom. sg. S. 385,1 Anh.4 (2, Bern 11./12. Jh.) [Die kleineren althochdeutschen Sprachdenkmäler hrg. von Elias von Steinmeyer. Berlin 1916 Hh GTA KLEINEREN] —

alf: nom. sg. Gl. 4,202,24 (sem. Trev., 11/12. Jh.).

Alb, Mahr, (niederer) Naturgott oder –dämon, den Faunen der antiken Mythologie gleichgesetzt: alp [quid rusticorum monstra detester deum,] faunos [, priapos … nymphas natantes, Prud., P. Rom. (x) 242] Gl 2,403,33; er gilt als gespenstisches, heimtückisches Wesen: follus 4,202,24 (vgl. Katara S. 265; v. Wartburg, Et. Wb. 3 s.v. follis ii 5a, S. 692); als Nachtmahr spielt er den Frauen mit: ad feminam quam alb illudit: femina quam alb alludit fumetur cum biberuuurz S 385,1 Anh.4.

S.v. albe:

albe mhd. f. ?, nach Lexer, Hwb. alp m. n. hnd. alb m.

alpe: nom sg. Gl 3,664,59 (Innsbr. 711, 13 Jh.). [presumably = ‘iii, 664, 59 (Codex Oenipontanus 711)’ in S-S]

Alpdrücken, die durch einer Alb oder eine Elbe (Drude) verursachte Atembeklemmung des Schlafenden: morbus comitialis, vgl. Duc. s. v. malannus1, die aber nach alter Anschauung auch durch einen Dämon verursacht wurde, vgl. Höfler, Krankheitsn, S. 10ff. s. v. Alb, S. 114 s. v. Epilepsie).

s.v. thona (in the D section!)

‘thona f., mhd done, nhd. dohne; as. thona, mnd. dōne; ae (ælf)ðone. vgl. Grimm, Myth. III4, 360. – Graff V,146.

done: nom. sg. Gl 3, 363,45 (Jd). – thona: nom. sg. Gl 2,494,6 (2 Hss.) = Wa 83,26.

Ranke, Schößling (des Weinstocks): thona palmes [zu: hic ubi vitea pampineo brachia palmite luxuriant, Prud., H. a. cib. (III) 54] Gl 2,494,6 = Wa 83,26.

Sehne , Saite: done nervus Gl 3,363,45.

Abl. thonahti.

s.v. thonahti

thonahti adj.

thonahti: Grdf. Gl 2,494,3 (Sg 292, 10. Jh.; lat. abl. sg. m.)

mit Weinlaub, Ranken versehen: thonahti erdschozza [hic ubi vitea] pampineo [brachia] palmite [luxuriant, Prud., H. a. cib. (III) 53].

These checked with Steinmeyer-Seivers: 2,494,3 and 6: ‘Pampineo palmite thonahti erdscozza’ (MS a only; ‘Palmes thona’ (MSS a and b). Prudentius glosses.

3,363,45 Junius 83. Bunch of glosses on parts of the body, glossing neruus.

Karlsson, Stefán, ‘Aldur Hauksbókar’, Fróðskaparrit: Annales Societatis Scientiarum Færoensis,13 (1964), 114–21.

*Karras, Ruth Mazo, Common Women: Prostitution and Sexuality in Medieval England (Oxford, 1996)

*Karras, R. Mazo, ‘God and Man in Medieval Scandinavia: Writing—and Gendering—the Conversion’, in Varieties of Religious Conversion in the Middle Ages, ed. by James Muldoon (XXXX 1997), 100-14.

*Kärre, Nomina agentis in Old English (Uppsala, 1915).

Kaske, R. E., ‘Sapientia et fortitudo as the Controlling Theme of Beowulf’, Studies in Philology, 55 (1958), 423–56. Disses Hrothgar (circumspectly) 435–36. Reckons he’s got sapientia but too old to have fortitudo and that this lack effectively undermines his sapientia too. Danes likewise weak generally 436–37. Contrasts with Scyld 436–37. Tho’ NB ‘Hrothgar wisely endures (146–9, 929–30, 1777–8), and God eventually sends him relief (930–1, 1778–81)’ (442). 440–45 re the Geats and again emphasises unwisdom in many of their deeds during deud etc. Quite right too, and citeable; has Geats lacking sapientia as Danes lack fortitudo. Re Hygelac himself, NBs 1205–7 re wlenco; ‘But I think this judgment of Hygelac is also tacitly supported by such things as his previous underestimation of Beowulf (2185–8); his evident opposition to the judgment of snotere ceorlas who encouraged Beowulf’s exploit (202–4, 415–20, 1987–98); and the absence of a single epithet for him expressing a variant of sapiens, though he is described repeatedly as fortis. Hygelac, then, forms a basic contrast to Hroðgar, and the contrast is sharpened by the typical motifs of vigorous youth and wise old age. Together, the two constitute a melancholy presentation of the ideal almost inevitably divided; rarely does there come a Hroðgar-Hygelac, a man apt for all occasions, a Beowulf’ (440). 445–46 on Beowulf feeling bad ‘swa him geþywe ne wæs’ as laudable timor dei or tristitia with some refs.

Kaske, R. E., ‘The Sigemund-Heremod and Hama-Hygelac Passages in Beowulf’, PMLA, 74 (1959), 489–94. Discusses Hygelac’s rashness in the Frankia expedition where the Brisinga men falls into Frankish hands, contrasting with Hama’s successful escape with the necklace 490–91.

*Kaske, R. E., ‘Weohstan’s Sword’, MLN, 75 (1960), 465–68.

Kaske, R. E., ‘ “Hygelac” and “Hygd” ’, in Studies in Old English Literature in Honor of Arthur G. Brodeur, ed. by Stanley B. Greenfield ([XXXX]: University of Oregon Books, 1963), pp. 200–6.

[Hh Bm STUDIES]

Kaske, R. E., ‘Beowulf’, in Critical Approaches to Six Major English Works: ‘Beowulf’ through ‘Paradise Lost’, ed. by R. M. Lumiansky and Herschel Baker (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1968), pp. 3–40. Basically goes over his earlier stuff but handy as a combination. 17–19 re Hrothgar and danes as having sapientia without fortitudo, and the sapientia itself therefore being undermined. Hygelac and Geats as lacking sapientia 20–21; Hygelac and the necklace 25–26.

Kastan, David Scott, Shakespeare After Theory (New York: Routledge, 1999)

*Kästner, H. F., ‘Pseudo-Dioscoridis de Herbis Femininis’, Hermes, 31–32 (1896–97), pp. 578–636 and 160 respectively.

*Kastovsky, Dieter, Wortbildung und Semantik, Studienreihe Englische, 14 (Tübingen, 1982).

Kastovsky, Dieter, ‘Deverbal Nouns in Old and Modern English: From Stem-Formation to Word-Formation’, in Historical Semantics, Historical Word-Formation, ed. by Jacek Fisiak, Trends in Linguistics: Studies and Monographs, 29 (Berlin: XXXX, 1985), pp. 221–61. 237–38 (or §§3.2.4.1–2) re deverbative –en, lots of e.g.s Just right, except no reconstructed origins like. But fine for siden.

Kastovsky, Dieter, ‘Semantics and Vocabulary’, in The Cambridge History of the English Language, Volume 1: The Beginnings to 1066, ed. by Richard M. Hogg (Cambridge, 1992), pp. 290–408. ‘Word-formations are lexical syntagmas based on a determinant (modifier)/determinatum (head) relationsh (Marchand 1969: 3); in the Germanic languages, the determinant always precedes the determinatum’ (356). ‘The principle of transparency/motivation can be impaired by the process of lexicalisation: once formed, a lexeme may adopt additional semantic properties that are not predictable from the meanings of the constituents and the pattern underlying the combination. Thus morgengifu is not simply a gift given at some morning, but a gift given to the bride by her husband after the wedding-night … Lexicalisation is not an all-or-nothing phenomenon, but a scale, and lexemes may move along this scale in the course of time. When dealing with an historical period, therefore, it is not always easy to determine whether a given formation is lexicalised or not’ (356). ‘A slightly different development took place with leod, þeod ‘people’, which in leodcyning, þeodcyning ‘king of the people = mighty king’ have still preserved their original meaning, although with an additional intensifying function, whilst in þeodloga ‘arch-lier’, þeodwiga [357] ‘great warrior’, leodbealu ‘terrible calamity’, leodgryre ‘general terror’, the determinant has merely intensifying function. But in view of the existence of combinations with a literal meaning, we should not treat leod, þeod as prefixoids’ (356–57). NBs that even if not productive, ‘very often formations remain fully transparent and by virtue of this property constitute an important factor in the overall structure of the vocabulary which should not be disregarded. For a diachronic study, therefore, transparency/analysability will have to be regarded as more important than productivity, although the latter cannot of course be completely disregarded’ (358, cf. 357–58). Citable survey of semantics studies on OE 400–407. Noun-noun compounds: additive (e.g. suhtorgefædran) dead in the water (365–66); copulative (implying be), e.g. eoforswin (a pig which is a boar’) (366); attributive e.g. cilforlamb ‘ewe-lamb’ (366); subsumptive with different sorts 366–67, e.g. species+genus, comparison+determinatum compared to it (e.g. goldfinc), etc. (366–67). ‘Rectional compounds are best defined negatively as those that do not allow a copulative paraphrase. Morphologically, we can distinguish two subcategories, pure nominal compounds and synthetic compounds, i.e. those having a deverbal noun as the determinatum. Semantically speaking, both groups can express the same kind of relationship’ (367). Incl. synthetic where ‘The determinatum is an action noun, the determinant denotes the agent, goal, place, instrument or time of the action’, incl. hancred ‘cokcrow’—I guess like elf-shooting (367). Regular compounds 368–69; relevant ones re ælf-compounds are ‘The determinatum represents an agent, the determinant a goal (object), place, instrument or time connected with some implied activity, or this activity itself’ e.g. ceapmann ‘merchant’. Hmm, no, this isn’t really \elf-knight is it. That’s a subsumptive compound (pp. 366–67), cf. mægwine. More useful re ælfsogoða etc. is ‘The determinatum represents some object or phenomenon that could be regarded as in some sense affected or effected by an implied action or being in some state or position; the determinant specifies an agent, source, material, place, time, instrument or the action itself: beobræd ‘honey’, smiþbelg ‘bellows’’ etc. (368). Noun/Adjective + past participle combinations 374. Here ‘the determinant functions as argument of the verb and can represent:’ Subject e.g. bearneacnod ‘rpegnant’; instrumenta, locative, manner (e.g. wondor-agræfen ‘wondrously engraved’), adjective. (374).

372–3 re compound adjectives,noun adj: ‘In Noun + Adjective compounds the following semantic types dominate:firstly, the determinant can be regarded as a complement of the adjective: eagsyne “visible to the eye”, ellenrof “famed for strength”, æcræftig “learned in the law”; secondly, the determinatum is compared to an implicit property of the determinant, where the comparison can be pleached to mere intensification: blodread ‘blood-red’, dæglang ‘all day long”, hunigswete “sweet at honey”, hetegrim “fierce”; thirdly, the formal determinatum is an attribute of the determinant. This type probably arose as a reversed bahuvrihi compound (Carr 1939: 260, [373]341), i.e. seocmod ‘having a sick heart’ > modseoc ‘sick with regard to the heart, sick at heart” > “heartsick”, and this leads to their analysis as pseudo-compounds (Marchand 1969: 85ff.)…’

Katla Kjartansdóttir, `The New Viking Wave: Cultural Heritage and Capitalism', in Iceland and Images of the North, ed. by Sumarliði R. Ísleifsson (Québec: Presses de l'Université du Québec, 2011), pp. 461--80.

Katrín J. Óskarsdóttir and Guðrún Jónína Magnúsdóttir, 10 litlir sveitastrákar ([Hella]: Vildarkjör, [2007])

Katrín Jakobsdóttir, `Engin glæpasagnakreppa: Íslenska glæpasagnaárið 2008', Tímarit Máls og menningar, 70.1 (February 2009), 36--49. Mentions Stefán Máni's use of Norse mythology in Ódáðahraun, but doesn't seem to think that much of it (40--41). Re Land tækifæranna: 'Útgáfa bókarinnar tafðist nokkuð; Ævar vildi "uppfæra" bókina eftir bánkahrunið og fyrir vikið er sagan skrifuð inn í samtímann, annars vegar fæst lögregluliðið við myrtan Pólverja og hins vegar við myrtan "útrásarvíking". Good quotation from p. 69 of the book about Icelanders as hens who love their egg-thieves. Identifies Guðni, despite his staying at home and not going out and protesting, as the character with the sharpest/bitterest criticisms of the crash, quoting 115--16 and 203. 'Samfélagsdeila lætur Ævari vel og hann er í miklu stuði í þessari bók, skapar ágæta fléttu í kringum myrta Pólverjann og útrásarvíkinginn, og skemmtir sér greinilega vel við að leggja persónum sínum orð í munn þegar hann smíðar samtöl um ástandið. Land tækifæranna ber því gott vitni hversu góðum tökum hann hefur náð á forminu og um leið hefur hann markað sér sérstöðu með skarpri samfélagsrýni og oldfimum viðfangsefnum' (48).

Katrín Jakobsdóttir, `Meaningless Icelanders: Icelandic Crime Fiction and Nationality', in Scandinavian Crime Fiction, ed. by Andrew Nestingen and Paula Arvas (Cardiff: University of Wales Press, 2011), pp. 46--61. In Iceland, 'the novel appeared at the same time as the Icelandic political and social debate revolved around independence and nationality. Nationality became one of the fundamental pillars of the genre; many novels took up the theme of being Icelandic and the difference between Icelanders and others. Another theme is the contrast between country and city, where the country is often connected with old and decent Icelandic values [...] Icelandic literature is still pervaded by the sign system of nationality and the contrast between the city and country, even though Icelandic novels also addressed some of the issues of the rapid social changes after the Second World War' (47). Makes a bid for seeing crime fiction as 'a microcosm of a broader social reality through which readers can sharpen their understanding of society' (47). Crime fiction as historically an inherently urban genre (48) in Iceland and abroad. Postmodern crime fiction has dispensed with clear boundaries between right and wrong (48)--fair point; though she recognises criticism of crime fiction as socially conservative. Suggests that social realism is a distinctive feature of Scandy crime fiction and maybe a reason for its popularity (48). 48-51 and 54-55 discusses how crime fiction exposes anxieties about the purity of Icelandic; consistent with all the crime novels I've read! Makes a good case for how the novels present Icelandic society as living up to its ideals--but as far as I can see leaves plenty of space for reading these texts as inviting the reader to read from the position of those ideals, reinscribing nationalism as it does so.

Kaufman, Amy S., `Our Future is our Past: Corporate Medievalism in Dystopian Fiction', in Corporate Medievalism II, ed. by Karl Fugelso, Studies in Medievalism, 22 (Cambridge: Brewer, 2013), pp. 11--19. 'When economists and political scientists warn of the "new medievalism", they are referring to a new feudalism governed by a corporate-government hybrid to which the whole world is doomed to be enslaved.[lots of refs to show the existence of the discourse] Companies like Google create "villages" for their employees while banks indenture us through escalating interest rates on credit cards, mortgages, and loans. Monsanto's iron-fisted control of land, water, and seed echoes injunctions against hunting on the king's land. As corporations consolidate power at an alarming rate, the onset of a new Middle Ages seems all but inevitable' (11). Notes some works and says 'Each author works from the assumption that such omnipotent ideological, economic, and political structures are medieval in nature, and they pit their heroines against a medieval worldview. The dystopian heroine embodies values like socialism, religious liberty, environmentalism, and feminism. Yet [13] ironically, the modes of resistance she employs turn out to be very medieval after all.' (13). Worth thinking about re Tímakistan: the freezing of time in the novel's present reflects the import and mass-marketing into the present of a pseudo-medieval method of social control, that has to be defeated by the plucky heroine. 'Atwood, Collins, and Butler's dystopian visions incorporate an implicit feminist analysis that links corporate abuses of power to patriarchy through neomedieval tropes. The elevation of masculinity and the oppression of women are viewed as inextricable from class-based oppression, religious fundamentalism, and environmental destruction' (15).

Kaufmann, Henning, Altdeutsche Personennamen Ergänzungsband (Munich, 1968). ‘verfaßt von Henning Kaufmann’ title page. Sv. Alfi- pp. 28–29. ‘Das in Vollnamen als Zweitglied erscheinende “-alp, -alf” kann unmöglich zu Alßi- [crossed b really] gehören. Denn die Regel, daß vokalisch anlautende Zweitglieder gemieden werden, duldet nackweislich keine Ausnahme (ref. XXXX). Bei einigen dieser Belege hilft sich Fö. damit, da§ er in “-alf’ ein verderbtes –olf ( < -wolf) vermutet; Edw. Schröder (XXXXref) äußert die gleiche Vermutung. Dies wäre jedoch lautich beispiellos’ (29). Some other discussion of this that doesn’t look too exciting. Well, not if he’s right.

*Kay, C. J., and M. L. Samuels, ‘Componential Analysis in Semantics: Its Validity and Applications’, Transactions of the Philological Society (1975), 49–81.

Kay, Stephen, Travels and Researches in Caffraria: Describing the Character, Customs, and Moral Condition of the Tribes Inhabiting that Portion of Southern Africa By Stephen Kay Published by John Mason, 1833, http://books.google.co.uk/books?id=w3tbopF-IbwC. 201-204 customs surrounding death and burial remarked as being simlar to OT; 204 adds other examples of issues of impurity compared with OT (things like Numbers and Leviticus). p. 213--idolatry compared to worship of Thor and Woden by 'the ancient Britons'. 'Some indeed hve contended, that he is in reality hereby addressing the Divine Being; and it is an easy matter to suppose this: but when we ask him the question, his answer does not by any means support such a conjectire.I am inclined to regard the declarations of the pious partof the natives as form[213]ing by far the best criterions whereby to determine points of this nature: and on consulting one of these pon this and various other subjects, he very feelingly replied, saying, "Until enlightened by the grace of God, my prayers were made to the stones only, as are those of thousands of my countrymen at this very moment." This affecting fact carries us back as it were to a view of the ancient Britons, at the time when Thor and Woden were their gods, and when these were the objects of homage amongst our ancestors' (212-13). Sort out proper ref from book itself. Ostensibly quoting barrow, but with some different wording (at least from the 1806 edn--seems markedly different from the 1st edn at http://books.google.com/books?id=TswTAAAAYAAJ): 'The head of a Kaffer is not, generally, more elongated than that of a European; the frontal and occipital bones form nearly a semicircle; and a line from the forehead to the chin, drawn over the nose, is, in some instances, as finely rounded, and as convex, as the profile of a Roman or Grecian countenance. In short, had not nature bestowed upon him the dark-colouring principle that anatomists have discovered to be owing to a certain gelatinous fluid lying between the epidermis and the cuticle, he might have ranked amongst the first Europeans' (110). P. 111 compares clothes with Britons in Caesar's day. Refs to 'feudal lords' (77), feudal system 214-15, 241. Kay's journal seems to be in the Wesleyan Methodist Missionary Society Archives, South Africa Correspondence (WMMS-SA), box 301, Special Collections, SOAS.

Stephen Kay, A Succinct Statement of the Kaffer's Case; Comprising Facts, Illustrative of the Causes of the Late War and of the Influence of Christian Missions: In a Letter to T. Fowell Buxton, Esq. M.P. Chairman of the Aborigines Committee, &c. &c. &c. Supported by References to Evidence, Adduced before that Committee, Preparatory to some Legislative Enactment, Protective of the Aborigines Bordering upon British Colonies (London: Adams, 1837). General tone set by 'Being "debtor" moreover not only "to the wise", but "to the unwise,"--year "to the barbarians" also, they having frequently "shewn us no small kindness;" I still owe something to the Kaffer tribes who are not here to defend themselves, but who are nevertheless denounced before the British public [2] as a monst incorrigible, irreclaimable, and sanguinary race of beings' (1-2). Seems that Kay, having moved back to England, gave evidence before a parliamentary select committee, but wasn't happy either that he'd said all he had to say,not that they listened. So he writes this. 'On this point, however, I beg to guard against all misunderstanding. Like the celebrated Frnech Traveller, Vaillant, various writers have indulged in the most glowing descriptions of this people,ascribing to them all the virtue of "innocent children of nature", with little or no vice. This, asevery one must know who has studied human nature at all, and who gives anything like due credence to the truths of sacred writ, is altogether illusive. The Kaffers are not only fallen creatures in common with ourselves, but decidedly heathenish, and exceedingly superstitious; and notwithstanding the proud self-respect, which in many of their chiefs especially, often produces a noble bearing, and apparent magnanimity of conduct, rendering them highly imposing to the eye of a stranger, they are universally and deeply depraved, and subject to the numerous evils of Paganism as it exists in Caffaria. These, moreover, are not a little fostered by the feudal system of government which, from time immemorial, has obtained amongst them, frequently inducing the unhappy conclusion that "might gives right". ' (7). Interesting to see 'feudal system' in the picture. Lots of interesting stuff in this long defence of the Kaffirs--great benefit brought them by Europeans, esp. re religion; apparent unwillingness to extend philanthropic reading to native New Zealanders; willingness to dis' the Boers. p. 52quotes Pringle,in positive terms, also mentioning African Sketches p.3. Ends with a list of areas of progress--clothes introduced, marriage introduced, women doing better, 'their heathenish cruelties have been materially checked' (74), less war between clans, education and vernacular lit, promotion of commerce and agriculture, sabbath, burial rites,

Kazanas, N. D., ‘Indo-European Deities and the R[underringingXXXX]gveda’, Journal of Indo-European Studies, 29 (2001), 257–93.

Keats-Rohan, K. S. B. and David E. Thornton, Domesday Names: An Index of Latin Personal and Place Names in Domesday Book (Woodbridge: Boydell, 1997)

*Keefer, Sarah Laratt, ‘The Lost Tales of Dylan in the Fourth Branch of the Mabinogi’, Studia Celtica, 24/25 (1989/90), 26-37. Roundly dissed by Wood 1991, 58-59 but may have some useful material. You need to check it out anyway. ‘Although supernatural mothers are hinted at in the genealogiesm the case for the appearance of a seal father in Pedeir Keinc does not seem convincing’ (Wood 1991, 59).

Keegan, Matthew L., 'Levity Makes the Law: Islamic Legal Riddles', Islamic Law and Society (2019) https://doi.org/10.1163/15685195-00260A10 Ibn Farḥūn locates the precedent for riddling in the deeds of the Prophet. He notes that both the Ṣaḥīḥ of al-Bukhārī (d. 256/870) and the Muwaṭṭa⁠ʾ of Mālik b. Anas (d. 179/796) contain a ḥadīth in which the Prophet Muḥammad poses a riddle to those around him: “There is a kind of tree that does not lose its leaves and is like a Muslim. Tell me what it is.” The narrator, ʿAbd Allāh b. ʿUmar (d. 73/693) realizes that the solution to the riddle is the date palm (nakh­ la), but he is too shy to respond. The other members of the audience mistak- enly believe that Muḥammad is hinting at a tree found in the desert steppe (shajar al-bawādī), and the audience eventually asks the Prophet for the solu- tion to the riddle. He tells them that it is the date palm, but he does not explain the metaphor.26 Later Muslim scholars offer different explanations for why the date palm is like a Muslim, many of which can be found in Ibn Ḥajar al- ʿAsqalānī’s (d. 852/1449) commentary on al-Bukhārī’s Ṣaḥīḥ.27 Ibn Ḥajar argues that one of the lessons of this ḥadīth is that it is useful for a teacher to “test the minds of students with that which is hidden and to explain [the solution] to them if they do not understand.”28 Ibn Ḥajar notes that some Muslim scholars may be hostile to riddling because there is a ḥadīth that prohibits the posing of petty and misleading questions (ughlūṭāt) if they are designed to make people fall into error. However, Ibn Ḥajar argues that this prohibition only applies to questions that have no benefit (dhālika maḥmūl ʿalā mā lā nafʿ fīhi), whereas a teacher who tests the minds of his pupils “encourages them to learn (al-taḥrīḍ ʿalā al-fahm fī al-ʿilm).”29 In his legal digest, Kitāb al-Ashbāh wa-l-Naẓāʾir, al-Subkī includes all these genres and a good deal more in a chapter devoted to riddles (alghāz).62 Like Ibn Farḥūn and al-Isnawī (but not Ibn al-Shiḥna), al-Subkī begins with the Prophet’s riddle about the date palm.63 He claims that, following the Prophetic example, scholars began to explore the subject of riddles.64 Al-Subkī collects the results of this ongoing scholarly activity in his chapter on riddles, and the wide variety of material assembled sheds light on the broader tradition of Islamic riddling out of which the specific genre of legal riddle collections emerged. Although the stories he collects may not be historically accurate, they offer a brief glimpse of the state of Islamic riddling at the moment the legal riddle collections emerged. Al-Subkī begins with the oldest example of post-Prophetic riddling he can find, which is the story of 5 The man also asks Ibn ʿAbbās to tell him which two female entities speak but have neither flesh nor blood. Once again, the answer requires deep knowledge of the Qurʾān. Ibn ʿAbbās responds that these are the heaven and the earth, two grammati- cally feminine entities that are personified in the Qurʾān when they “speak” to express their obedience to God’s command during the acts of creation (Qurʾān 41:11).66 'the legal riddle operates as a fatwā in reverse. It presents an apparently counterin- tuitive legal ruling or legal outcome, one that might even be shocking. The so- lution is derived by reverse-engineering the situation in which such a fatwā or legal outcome would be correct'

Keegan, Timothy J., Colonial South Africa and the Origins of the Racial Order (XXXXX: Continuum, 1996).c. p. 142 useful-looking stuff on Xhosa attacks on Grahamstown, incl. fn. 58 (p. 329) mentions that 'The mostoutlandish charge put forward by the conspiracy theorists of Graham's Town was that Thomas Pringle's innocent poem aout the conflict of 1819, 'Makanna's Gathering', was responsible for the uprising (Pretorius, 'Humanitarians', 51-2)'.

Kelle, Johann, ‘Verbum und Nomen in Notkers Capella’, Zeitschrift für deutsches Altertum und Deutsche Litteratur, 30 (1886), 295–345. Alas, just an inflexional study and not an ed.!

Keightley, Thomas, The Fairy Mythology: Illustrative of the Romance and Superstition of Various Countries, rev. ed. (London: Bohn, 1850). Actually citing in these notes: Keightley, Thomas, The Fairy Mythology: Illustrative of the Romance and Superstition of Various Countries (London: Bell, 1900). XXXXMine’s a reprint of a corrected c. 1870 impression of c.1850 book. Check publishing history… ‘Writing and reading about Fairies some may deem to be the mark of a trifling turn of mind’ (v). 4–12 etymology of fairy and very good too. Worth citing with more recent accounts in an ‘early achievers’ sort of way. 62–63 cites one Thorlaicus, Noget om Thor og hans Hammer ‘in the Skandinavisk Museum for 1803’ arguing that Svartálfar are dvergar. But K and Grimm, Deutsche Mythologie, disagree. 66 reckons Grimm was down on ælfen glosses as evidence for ælfe but not clear whther it’s the DM or Irish Fairy Legends. 66 quick look at attestations of ælf in OE; ‘But of the character and acts of the elfs no traditions have been preserved in Anglo-Saxon literature’ (66). ‘The labours of MM. Grimm in this department of philosophy can never be too highly praised. They have been, in fact, the creators of it; and the German Mythology is a work of the most extensive learning, and written in the spirit of true philosophy. And this is no light praise; for of all subjects, Mythology appears to be the one on which imagination is most apt to run riot. Hense, it has been frequently almost brought into contempt by the wild vagaries of those who have presumed to write on it without judgement or common sense. Though all many not agree with the opinions or deductions in the preceding pages, we trust that they will find in the no traces of ill-regulated imagination’ (511).

XXXXNB 66 first note re engel replacing alp—check.

Keil, Max, Altisländische Namenwahl, Palaestra: Untersuchungen und Texte aus der Deutschen und Englischen Philologie, 176 (Leipzig: Mayer & Müller, 1931)

Kellogg, Robert, A Concordance to Eddic Poetry, Medieval Texts and Studies, 2 (East LansingXXXX, 1988) XXXXstyle

Kelly, Birte, ‘The Formative Stages of Beowulf Textual Scholarship: Part I’, Anglo-Saxon England, 11 (1983a), 247–74.

Kelly, Birte, ‘The Formative Stages of Beowulf Textual Scholarship: Part II’, Anglo-Saxon England, 12 (1983b), 239–75.

Kelly, Fergus, Early Irish Farming: A Study Based on the Law-Texts of the 7th and 8th Centuries AD, Early Irish law Series, 4 (Dublin: School of Celtic Studies, Dublin Institute for Advanced Studies, 1998). 'Cainnenn (Onion?) // By far the most prominent vegetable in our sources is cainnenn (also cainenn). I believe it to be onion (Allium cepa), but other scholars have sometimes identified it with garlic (Allium sativum) or with leek (Allium ampeloprasum var. porrum). The issue cannot be resolved by comparison with other Celtic languages, because the Welsh cognate cennin means 'leek', whereas the Breton cognate kignen means 'garlic'. It might therefore be argued that Irish cainnenn is a generic term which includes onion, leek and garlic. But the legal references in particular suggest that cainnenn had a more precise meaning. This is underlined by the frequent prefixing of the adjective fír 'true' to cainnenn. Binchy suggests that this refers to the freshness of the vegetable, but it seems more likely that the intention is to stress that it must be a cultivated onion of a recognized type and that no wild species of Allium (see p. 308) can be substituted. The word cainnenn dropped out of general use in the Early Modern Irish period, and was replaced by uinneman (uinniún), most probably a borrowing from Norman French oignun 'onion'. // It is clear from references in the text on status, Críth Gablach, that cainnenn was a regular element in the earlyIrish diet. Bretha Crólige, which deals with illegal injury, stresses a high-ranking invalid's entitlement to this vegetable, unless the physician forbids it on medical grounds. The most detailed description of cainnenn is in another text on status, Uraicecht Becc, which specifies the food which a client must provide for the annual visit of his lord. The amount depends on the rank of the lord. The lowest-ranking lord is entitled to four loaves of bread for each member of his visiting party of four men. The bread must be accompanied by relish (annlann) or condiment (tarsunn), which [252] may consist of cainnenn, honey, fish, cheese or salted meat. The text states that there must be 'sixteenth cloves of true cainnenn for each loaf,orfour plants of true cainnenn for each loaf'. This implies that a typical cainnenn was expectd to have about four cloves growing from the base of each plant. I suggest, therefore, that cainnenn refers to a bunching or shallot type of onion, as illustrated below. // It might be argued that the reference to more than one 'clove' (ingen) in connection with this vegetable indicates garlic rather than onion. [fn. 26: 'Compare Welsh cennin ewinog 'garlic', where ewin 'clove' is cognate with Irish ingen'] However, there are various objections to tis identification. In the law-text on base clientship, Cáin Aicillne, the food-rent which a client must give to his lord includes 'a handful of green cainnenn with their tops'. [fn. 27 debates semantics of cenn,here translated as 'top'] It is further specified that each plant should be four fists in length, i.e. about sixteen inches. In the Ancient laws of Ireland, the translation given for cainnenn in this text is 'garlic'. But garlic is not ready for lifting until the leaves with, usually in July. Its cloves develop entirely undergound, and so have no trace of green. Consequently, it is difficult to see how 'green cainnenn' (glaschainnenn) could apply to garlic. It suits the onion much [253] better, as the green leaves of the onion are utilised as well as the base. Críth Gablach also contains a reference to 'a handful of cainnenn with tops'. // Another argument against the identification of cainnenn with garlic is the evidence that fairly large quantities were grown. Legal commentary expects a bóaire to grow six ridges of cainnenn, [fn 30 has details for lower ranks] and the comic tale of Aislinge Meic Con Glinne refers to seven ridges of true cainnenn. We do not know the length of the ridge (indra, immaire) which either author had in mind, but both references indicate a consderable crop. The same conclusion can be drawn from an Old Irish religious poem, probably composed in the eighth century, which refers to the planting of a small garden (gortán) with cainnenn. Because of its remarkably powerful flavour, it seemsunlikely that garlic would be cultivated on the scale indicated by these references. Furthermore, it is clear that the earlyIrish made much use of wild garlic (crim), as it is often mentioned in the sources (see p. 308). There would therefore be less need for a garden variety of garlic. // Finally, a Middle Irish glossator states that cainnenn brings tears from the eyes. This is true of onion, but not of leek or garlic' (251-53).
'Borrlus (Leek?) // In Cáin Aicille this vegetable is included in the annual food-rent due to a lord. A client must give him two handfuls of borrlus, of which each plant must be four fists in length, i.e. sixteen inches. This vegetable is also mentioned in a legal commentary which discusses the proper food to be supplied to an employer to a builder and his assistants. // Borrlus seems literally to mean 'the swelling plant', which could apply to a wide variety of vegetables. In the translation of this text [255] in the Ancient Laws of Ireland, it is taken to be leek (Allium ampeloprasum var. porrum). This seems a likely identification, as the leek is known to have been widely cultivated in Europe in the medieval period. Its long-established importance in Ireland is indicated by the use of a general term for plant, lus, to refer specifically to the leek.[fn. 46: 'DIL s.v. 1 lus (b); Stokes, Irish Glosses, 24 no. 810 hoc porrum. lus'] For example, in the fifteenth-century medical text Rosa Anglica the three main cultivated members of the genus Allium are given as lus 7 uindemuin 7 gairleog 'leek and onion and garlic'. The same development took place in Manx, where 'leek' is one of the meanings assigned to luss' (254-55).
'Foltchép (Chives) // Tis relative of the onion (Allium schoenoprasum) is commonly grown in modern herb-gardens. The new growth is regularly cut to provide a garnish for a wide variety of dishes. It seems to have been used in a similar way in early Christian Ireland. The eighth-century saga Fled Bricrenn contains a reference to the cutting of chives down to the ground with a sharp blade. // The name foltchép is a compound of folt 'hair' and cép (from Latin cepa 'onion'),and refers to its bushy mode of growth. A ninth-century Life of Saint Patrick claims a miraculous origin for this plant. While Patrick was in Óchtar Cuillend, the pregnant wife of Aillill mac Cathbath suddently developed a craving for a plant which she had seen in a vision. She told Patrick that if she did not eat this plant, she or her unborn baby--or both of them--would die. Patrick asked her to describe the plant, and she said that it was like rushes (lúachair). patrick then blessed some rushes, which immediately turned to chives. the woman ate and was cured, and afterwards gave birth to a son. Patrick then annonced that any woman who ate of this plant would be cured' (257).
'Crim (Wild garlic) // Wild garlic (Allium ursinum) is a frequent plant of woods and damp shady places; its usual habitat is reflected in the fairly common placename Cremchaill 'garlic wood'. In our period [309] it was evidently regarded as particularly important, as it is specifically mentioned in the law-text Di Astud Chirt 7 Dligid. As in later times, wild garlic may have been prized for its medicinal properties. // A client is obliged to provide an annual crimfeis[overdotted f], 'garlic feast', for his lord. If he fails to do so, he must pay his lord a fine of three séts. Judging from later glosses, it seems that this feast consisted of garlic with cheese and milk, and this it took place before Easter (ar cháiscc). It is implicit in another legal commentary that the garlic feast is a rather low-key affair, as the lord is accompanied by only three retainers' (308-9).

Kelly, S. E., Charters of St Augustine’s Abbey Canterbury and Minster-in-Thanet, Anglo-Saxon Charters, 4 (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1995), her no.27, i.e. S501, has ‘of brynessole 7lang Colredinga gemercan oð helfesdene, oð [sic; she notes it should be of] helfesdene oð lectan æcer’ (104, whole thing ed. 104–5). 105–6 authentic. ‘From this the boundary marched with that of the people of Coldred (a settlement south-east of Sibertswold) as far as helfesdene; here the first element may be OE ælf ‘elf’, or hielfe, ‘handle’, and the second element is denu ‘valley’ (the reference may be to the steep valley in which lies Lydden, just south of Coldred)’ (107).

Kelly, S. E., The Electronic Sawyer: An Online Version of the Revised Edition of Sawyer's ‘Anglo-Saxon Charters’, section one [S 1-1602] (British Academy/Royal Historical Society Joint Committee on Anglo-Saxon Charters, 1999) <http://www.trin.cam.ac.uk/chartwww/eSawyer.99/eSawyer2.html>, accessed 28–09–2004.

Kelly, S. E., Charters of Abingdon Abbey, Anglo-Saxon Charters, 7–8, 2 vols (Oxford: Oxord University Press, 2001). no59, ed. 250–52, being S 663 has ‘of þæm stane on þa þrio gemæru, ðæt innan ruWan leage to brogan geate, þæt to sundran edisce on þone greatan þorn…’ with W for wynn. Bold my own. notes p. 255 have ‘From here the boundary of the rpesent charter ran (north) to a gate or opening (geat) perhaps associated with someone named or nicknamed Broga’ (255); glossary gives ‘(? pers. n.) or broga, “prodigy, monster, terror” ’ bold hers.

no. 64 vol 2 pp 271–75, ed. 271–72. ‘The next stretch of the bounds ... is also essentially the same in both surveys [ie. as her no. 44, S 552]; the later one adds one extra boundary mark, possibly ‘elf’s valley’ or ‘Ylf’s valley’ (ylf, denu).’ (274).

Kemble, John M. (ed.), Codex diplomaticus aevi saxonici, 6 vols (London: The English Historical Society, 1839–48)

Kemble, John M. (ed. and trans.), The Dialogue of Salomon and Saturnus, with an Historical Introduction, Ælfric Society, 3 (London: The Ælfric Society, 1848). Prose ed. and trans. of a fragment in Coton Vitellis A. xv 178–93 (ed. on even pages trans on odd). 186: ‘Saga me, hwyder gewiton ða englas ðe Gode wiðsócon on heofona rice? // Ic ðe secge, [God] híg tódæ[accent]lde on þri dæ[accent]las: ánne dæ[accent]l he ásette on ðæs lyftes gedríf, óðerne dæ[accent]l on ðæs wæteres gedríf, þriddan dæ[accent]l on helle neówelnisse‘ (186).

[Kendall, Edward Augustus], Burford Cottage, and its Robin-Red-Breast (London: Tegg, 1835). Author only identified as 'The author of Keeper's Travels'. http://books.google.co.uk/books?id=Ah4AAAAAQAAJ. 277 comparison of Africans to pagan England, none too unfavourably it seems, albeit still with idea of progress etc. A vast and leaden tome (worrying listed by the DNB among Kendall's ‘most attractive works‘, s.v. Kendall, Edward Augustus) 'intended for the communication of knowledge, and for the cultivation of virtue, among its youthful readers' (frontispiece), which cuts between the none too gripping exploits of a robin and educational tracts, thinly disguised as conversations which the robin overhears from the garden of Burford Cottage. 4- already getting stuck into talking about new world-Australasia I think. 105 cites Lander's Records of Captain Clapperton's Last Expedition--possible source for the Africa stuff? Central Africa as terra incognita 'and therefore, a country delivered over to the mental caprice of European ignorance and fancy' says Hartley (104), with more on the theme pp. ff. 'But arts, learning, and civilization,' said Mr. Paulett, 'have made but little way, as I have always understood, into the heart of Africa?' // 'Very little way indeed,' said Mr. Hartley; 'and especially upon this eastern coast. It is the east and the south of Africa that are the least civilized. These [107] countries are Pagan; while the north and the west are those parts in which chiefly prevail, along with the Mohammedan faith, Mohammedan arts and learning. I do not mean, however, to insinuate that Mohammedan Africa is always riper than Africa Pagan, in what we call civilization. Travellers report, that under many aspects, the Pagan negro is a better man the Mohammedan megro. Taking things in the opposite view, however, there are many deformities in Pagan Africa which have no existence in those parts which are under Mohammedan law and influence' (106-7). Mentions of 'frightful commerce in slaves' (107 et passim). 108ff. feteesh hut where 'the Pagan natives resort, to pray, or to give thanks, when they are to venture upon the water, or when they have landed in safety (109). Basically all about what capital fellows the people of the kingdom of Badagry are and how 'we are all of us in such haste to come to our conclusions!' (Hartley, 109) but that they're nice folks. Also Africa as a land of violent contrasts though, with all sorts of bad stuff going down 112-. Reference to ancient Rome while discussing Africa as in an early stage of Progress. 'It gives its peculiar lustre to modern Christendom, that (though the date of such an improvement is but little removed from us) it has at length brought, even into national practice, the treating of all men with humanity, be they friends or foes, or denizens or aliens' (113)--sense of the past present already here. Comparison with Plutarch's characterisation of Athenians 114. Ch 10 epigraph re debt to ancestors (115). You need to know about abroad to understand England's faults, but especially its greatness and 'upereminence' (116, cf. 125-26, 130). 120-24 fairies, hobgoblins etc! With some sensible primary source reading beneath--inter alia emphasises underlying medieval interest. Grimmian philology seems not to have made an impact yet though--it all arises from etymologising the name of the Robin as being due to people associating it with fairies I think. Ch. 11 epigraph is Milton on wanton dancers of Pan--comparison of Eng lit and Roman paganism with Africa (131). 'black Samaritan' of an African who helps English traveller (133, cf. 134).

Kendall, Edward Augustus, The English Boy at the Cape: an Anglo-African Story (1835). App. the first children's novel set in Southern Africa. See Jenkins 2006, 125-26.

Kennedy, Charles W., The Earliest English Poetry: A Critical Survey of the Poetry Written before the Norman Conquest with Illustrative Translations (XXXX: Oxford University Press, 1943). Trans of Wið fær has ‘work of witches’ but ‘Esa-shot’, ‘elf-shot’, ‘hag-shot’ (9). Takes l. 13 to refer to Weland and 8 to valks (10). ‘Yet the evidences of Christian conversion are clear enough. The reduction of the Esa, or pagan gods, into a category with witches and malign spirits is itself an indication of Christian influence, and the final words conclude the charm with a Christian petition’ (10).

Ker, N. R., Catalogue of Manuscripts Containing Anglo-Saxon (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1957). no 144 is BL Cotton Cleo B. xiii ff. 1-58, dated to s. xi (3rd quarter) p. 182; probably Exeter p. 184; (whole entry 182-85). No clue as to date of subsequent folios.

Ker, N. R., ‘A Supplement to Catalogue of Manuscripts Containing Anglo-Saxon’, Anglo-Saxon England, 5 (1976), 121–31. May have Junius MS with ælfisc in?

Kershaw, Paul, ‘Illness, Power and Prayer in Asser’s Life of King Alfred’, Early Medieval Europe, 10 (2001), 201–24.

Kershaw, Paul, ‘Laughter after Babel’s Fall: Misunderstanding and Miscommunication in the Ninth-Century West’, in Humour, History and Politics in Late Antiquity and the Early Middle Ages, ed. by Guy Halsall (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2002), pp. 179–202. ‘Differences in speech, and the incomprehensibility of the language of one people to another, occupied the very core of the antique notions of “the barbarian”, which continues into the early Middle Ages. Writing in the 880s, for example, Notker the Stammerer ... told of the veteran Frankish warrior, Eishere, and his war stories of skewering Bohemians, Wilzi and Avars on his spear ‘like little birds’ whilst they ‘squealed their incomprehensible lingo’ [Gesta Karoli Magna Imperatoris 2.12: MGH SRG n.s. 13 (1962)]. For Carolingian intellectuals living in a world of Latin culture shared by Romance- and Germanic-language speakers, such ideas of barabarous speech shaped attitudes not only to the people beyond the Frankish frontiers, but to those around them, and to themselves. A nagging sense that the lingua theotisca spoken by many Franks carried with it powerful connotations of barbarity kaiprompted German-speaking Carolingian intellectuals such as Walahfrid Strabo and Ottfried of Weissenburg to mound defensive arguments for its right to a place alongside the three sacred languages of Hebrew, Greek and Latin as a valid vessel of Christian truth’ (180). With various refs including a C9 papal letter refuting Byzantine Michael III’s claim that Latin is barbaric. 184–90 re Andreas Agnellus’s lectio (840s) re Bishop Gratiosus speaking embarrassingly low speech (presumably Romance rather than Latin) to Charlemagne in 787; serves important role in Agnellus’s text in establishing him as being like Nathaniel (whoever he is...). Still—presumably predicated on understanding of issues surrounding dialect/register. 191–92 re Notker the Stammerer, Gesta Karoli: ‘One feast day, Notker recounted, the royal household attended Mass at which an unnamed young cognatus of Charlemagne sang the “Alleluia” with great beauty. Charlemagne turned to the bishop at his shoulder. “How well that clericus sang”, he said. The nameless bishop, thinking that Charlemagne was joking, and ignorant that young singer [sic re lack of the] in question was a Carolingian, replied scathingly: “Yes, that’s how country-folk sing when they are following their oxen at the plough”. At this, what Notker, with cutting irony, called “a very imprudent response”, the incensed Charlemagne knocked the bishop to the ground’ (191). Not quite sure where language fits in here but certainly interesting. Elsewhere in the text, Charlemagne makes a pithy comment; “In the Gesta, however, the words Charlemagne ‘spoke’ were not his own. Rather, they were those spoken by Ambrose’s father in the fifth-century Vita Ambrosii by Paulinus of Milan ... ‘I have adapted these words from the Vita Ambrosii’, Notker explained, ‘because the words which Charlemagne actually said cannot be translated into Latin’. Notker’s ready admission of non-translateability has evoked a range of responses. ‘Can we do anything to this passage other than reject it as a literary invention?’ a recent student of the Gesta has asked, finding the answer to his question in Notker’s [198] overriding belief in the importance of textual models, and the centrality to his world view of the repetitive patterns of human history. Viewed from this perspective the phrase functions like a hagiographic topos, reflecting the deeper, universal truth implicit in the specific. Such an approach, however, sidesteps the quotation’s most immediate context, namely Notker’s acute sense of the limits of human language’ (197–98). Keys into how well language can represent Truth—not too well, Notker implies. 200–1 re the Paris conversations (that Frankish phrasebook). ‘Many of the phrases are suggestive of exchanges between a Romance-speaking master and a German servant’ (200); ‘Opinion is divided as to whether the “Paris Conversations” were based upon actual interchanges recorded on an actual journey or were intended as pure parody [with refs which don’t, however, look mightily profound]. That the ‘Conversations’, like the Vocabularius St Galli, owed a clear debt to the third-century Greek-Latin school manual the Hermeneumata pseudodositheana and its derivatives, points surely to a scholastic, and almost certainly monastic, place of composition and suggests a third possible explanation: the “Conversations” were a form of applied parody, a means of teaching the essentials of conversational lingua theotisca. As several of Lupus of Ferrières’ letters make clear, instruction in German was undertaken at least in certain Frankish monasteries, notably Fulda, in the ninth century’

Kéry, Lotte, Canonical Collections of the Early Middle Ages (ca. 400–1140): A Bibliographical Guide to the Manuscripts and Literature, History of Medieval Canon Law, 1 (Washington, D.C.: The Catholic University of America Press, 1999) 133–48 lists MSS of decretum. Some C11 English ones.

Keynes, Simon, ‘The Vikings in England, c. 790–1016’, in The Oxford Illustrated History of the Vikings, ed. by Peter Sawyer (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1997), pp. 48–62

Keynes, Simon, ‘Cnut’s Earls’, in The Reign of Cnut: King of England, Denmark and Norway, ed. by Alexander R. Rumble (London: Leicester University Press, 1994), pp. 43–88.

Kieckhefer, Richard, European Witch Trials: Their Foundations in Popular and Learned Culture, 1300–1500 (London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1976). Trails!?XXXX

Kieckhefer, Richard, Magic in the Middle Ages (Cambridge, 1989). Magic as crossroads: demonic/natural magic (or magic/science); popular/intellectual; ‘fiction and reality’ (1). ‘in short, magic is a crossing-point where religion converges with science, popular beliefs intersect with those of the educated classes, and the [2] conventions of fiction meet with the realities of daily life. If we stand at this crossroads we may proceed outward in any of the various directions, to explore the theology, the social realities, the literature, or the politics of medieval Europe. We may pursue other paths as well, such as medieval art or music, since art sometimes depicted magical themes and music was seen as having magical powers. Because magic was condemned by both Church and state, its history leads into the thickets of legal development. Indeed, magic is worth studying because it serves as a starting-point for excursions into so many areas of medieval culture’ (1-2). Also crossroads of different cultures (2). ‘Book of household management from Wolsthurn Castle in the Tyrol’ case study (2, cf. 2-6). Remedy for epilepsy singled out as especially ‘magical’ (4). 8-17 defining ‘magic’.

‘When medieval writers wanted to cite a classical example of magic, one of the tales they were most likely to recall was from Homer’s Odyssey … [Circe] … This story was well known in medieval Europe, especially as retold by Ovid (43 b.c.-ca. a.d. 17). Rabanus Maurus (ca. 780-856) argued that the transformation into swine could only be fiction because God alone can change things from one nature into another. But he had to argue this point; it did not seem self-evident. Indeed, his influential predecessor Isidore of Seville (ca. 560-636) seems to have taken the story of Circe as a factual account, nd cited it alongside stories from history and the Bible. Reluctant to deny the factuality of the event, however, most theologians concluded that such incidents involved delusion of the sense’ (29).

‘The link between fairies and human beings is a prominent motif in the Irish tradition. One twelfth-century Irish work, for example, tells how \ers come upon a Fairy Hill, inhabited by twenty-eight warriors, each with a charming woman. Accepting their hospitality, the hunters spend the night in the hill. An earlier Irish source tells how Conle the Redhaired begins to hear the voice of a love-struck and alluring fairy. She invites him to join her in the Fairy Hill, where there are everlasting feasts, no cares, and no death. Fearing her enchantment, Conle obtains from a druid a musical charm with which he can ward off her allurement. She goes away for a time, but as she departs she throws him an apple which nourishes him for an entire month. Then she returns, warns Conle against the demonic power of the druids, prophesies the coming of St. Patrick to convert the Irish, and beckons for Conle to come away in a crystal boat [hmm, cf. Lagamon, Preiddeu Annwn]. At last he succumbs to her entreaties and is never again seen among mortals. What we have here is clearly a Christianized version of earlier lore; fairies are more often interpreted in medieval Christendom as demons, but here the fairy allies herself with the forces of goodness and faith against the pagan druids’ (54), citing Jackson, Celtic Miscalleny, 143-5, 164-5. Cf. Þiðranda þáttr.

‘The Church did not yet have fixed rituals for universal use in expelling demons, and in the nature of things exorcisms were put together ad hoc or else borrowed from someone else’s invention. In some cases they might be reminiscent of standard Christian rites, even if elements of folklore intrude:

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy spirit, amen. I conjure you, O elves and all sorts of demons, whether of the day or of the night, by the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit, and the undivided Trinity, and by the intercession of the most blessed and glorious Mary ever Virgin, by the prayers of the prophets, by the merits of the patriarchs, by the supplication of the angels and archangels, by the intercession of the apostles, by the passion of the martyrs, by the faith of the confessors, by the chastity of the virgins, by the intercession of all the saints, and by the Seven Sleepers, whose names are Malchus, Maximianus, Dionysius, John, Constantine, Seraphion, and Martimanus, and by the name of the Lord + a + g + l + a +, which is blessed unto all ages, that you should not harm nor do or inflict anything evil against this servant of God N., whether sleeping or waking. + Christ conquers + Christ reigns + Christ commands + May Christ bless us + [and] defend us from all evil + Amen.

Each time the exorcist finds the cross marked on the page he is to mark the sign of the cross over the afflicted person. Elsewhere the formula of exorcism draws more heavily from folklore, as in one which begins by “conjuring” and “adjuring” the elves and all diabolical enemies that they may have no more power over the patient … The exorcist calls on all God’s saints to cast these “accursed elves” into the eternal hellfire that is prepared for them. He implored Jesus to send his blessing so that these wretched elves will no longer harm the patient in head or brain, nose, neck, mouth, eyes, hands, and so forth through the various members and organs of the body [cf. Wiþ fær; others?]. He commands Heradiana, the “deaf-mute mother of malignant elves”, to depart. As the exorcism progresses it shifts at random, addressing now the patient, now the elves, and now the heavenly powers’ (73, from BL. MS Sloane 962, ff. 9v-10r; Sloane 963, ff. 15r-16v). Lots of reminiscences of A-S charms: direct connection?

‘In some place, particularly Italy, love magic is also a frequent basis for prosecution. In theologians’ and lawyers’ eyes love magic seems to have counted as sorcery even if used by a wife to gain her husband’s affections; it was a means for constrianing the will, and that in itself was evil. Elsewhere, especially in and around Switzerland, we find people taken to court for magically inducing storms to destroy their neighbours’ crops. A German charm of the tenth century enjoined the Devil in Christ’s name not to cause any harm “through destructive rain, through frost, through storms, or through the murmured incantations of sorcerers” ’ (81).

‘Medieval people did seriously believe, however, that bewitchment could cause impotence, and when King Lothar II was unable to consummate his marriage because he was magically impeded, Archbishop Hincmar of Rheims (806-82) was called on to decide whether the affliction was sufficient grounds for the king to dismiss his bride and marry a different woman’ (84).

‘Yet the Arthurian world of the romances was less predictable than the familiar world of ordinary experience. It was inhabited by monsters of popular mythology, occasionally by angels and demons of Christian lore, and quite regularly by fairies borrowed from Celtic literature’ (106). Etymologically ridiculous claim re fairies!! ‘The romances differ strikingly from the sagas in their conception of the foci for magical power. In the sagas, power resides mainly in words [cf. Raudvere]; in the romances it resides more in objects’ (106). ‘The purveyors of magical objects are often fairies, immortal beings who live in the “Land of Fairy” but ocasionally enter the world of mortals and favor certain individuals with magical gifts. The romance Escanor bristles with magical objects made by fairies: an entire castle full of them, including a wondrous bed with shining jewels. Elsewhere the fairies provide magical boats, a marvelous tent made of silk, gold, and cyress, or [108] a soft coverlet that protects people from harm, even from harmful thoughts. They may fall in love with human maes and attempt to seduce them away to their own world. When they wish to enter the human realm they typically do so at night. They wander in forests and linger by fountains. The ambivalence regarding fairies sometimes found in Irish literature can be seen in the romances as well: they have both good and evil sides, and while they can represent primal paganism they can also be spoken of as “good Christians”. They can bestow favours or destruction, according to their individual character, whim, or purpose. They serve other functions as well, but one of their main functions is to keep the romances well stocked with magical paraphernalia’ (107-8).

‘Some writers feared that these magical motifs [Xian, if referring to those just discussed] were too superstitious to be redeemed. In the fifteenth century, John Gerson complained that the French passion for romances had accustomed people to all sorts of fabulous and superstitious beliefs’ (108). Hey, great quote re the socialising power of romance! Wikid!

*Kieckhefer, R., ‘The Holy and the Unholy: Sainthood, Witchcraft, and Magic in Late Medieval Europe’, Journal of Medieval and Renaissance Studies, 24 (1994), 355–85.

*Kiernan, K. S., ‘Grendel’s Heroic Mother’, In Geardagum, 6 (1984), 13–33 Kiernan In Geardagum L718.c.316

Kiernan, Kevin S., ‘Beowulf’ and the ‘Beowulf’ Manuscript, 2nd ed. (Ann Arbor, 1996).

Kiessling, Nicolas K., ‘Grendel: A New Aspect’, Modern Philology, 65 (1968), 191–201. Wow, he’d actually put a lot of time in martialling glosses for supernatural being etc. But it won’t do. Might be citeable generally as a kind of survey of the gloss stuff though, in some ways better than Fell and Meaney options. Goes for faecce as cognate with faex and a gloss on pilosus (196)—probably hopeless, but maybe muse on it.

Kiessling, Nicolas, The Incubus in English Literature: Provenance and Progeny ([Pullman]: Washington State University Press, 1977). Washinton State UP is all the gen given check UL?XXXX NBs the fine line between Zeus raping women and incubi (2). Cites De Civitate Dei 15, 23, ‘Confirmant Silvanos et Panes, quos vulgo incubos vocant, improbos saepe exstitisse mulieribus et earum appetisse ac peregrisse concubitum’ (‘Silvans and Pans, who are commonly called incubi, had often performed obscenities on women and attacked and sought congress with them’ (4). 3, 5 greek gods having sex with humans as fallen angels. 15, 23 almost the same as Quaestionem Heptateuchum 1, 3 (PL 34, 549).

‘Lactantius (ca. 240–ca. 320) goes into great detail in his account of the fall, telling how the angels, fallen because of carnal intercourse within women, became satellites and ministers of Satan—beings of a middle nature, neither angels nor men’ (11), being Divin. Instit., 2, 15 (PL 6, 330-31). Raping demoning in apocryphal Acts of Thomas; succubus and incubus encountered in Vita Antonii (12, no proper refs ). Gregory the Great ‘In his popular Moralia on [sic] Job (7,18) he quotes Isaiah 31.14 and elaborates upon the beasts in that passage. The pilosi of the desert lands are, according to him, what the Greeks call “panas” and the Latins, “incubos” ’ (12) citing Moralia 28, 18, 36 (PL 75, 786). Wonder what Bede made of this? 13-14 Lilith and lamia (the latter, he says, a Gk word). NBs satyrs and incubi in Liber onstr. 9-15 an okay and quite useful and citable survey of incubi etc. in Judaeo-Christian trad.

16-20 ‘The Germanic North: From Monster to Sex Demon’. Reading of mære as short root vowel in Bwf ll. 103 (mære mearcstapa; looks okay metrically, but only if last vowel is the right length…) and 762 (whole line not quoted) (16-). Derives from Kiessling 1968 it seems. check that. Takes Grendel as ‘grinder’ and cfs. etymology of mære (17). Re glossaries ‘Thus maere [sic] and old [sic] English synonyms like scinna … were regularly glossed with Latin equivalents: monstrum…’!!! (17). 18 re Vanlandi, but does nothing to deserve glory from this. Sees mære changing such as to be inappropriate to Grendel (19–20) due to gaining sexual connotations. Bugger off.

‘In 2 Henry IV, the Hostess demands payment of Falstaff, or she says [sic re punct], “I will ride thee o’ nights like the mare” (II. i. 77–78) … and in Lear Edgar charms away the “nightmare, and her nine fold” (III. iv. 113). References to these dark creatures are also present in each of the last three major romances. In Cymbeline, the hapless Imogen prepares for sleep in her chamber with the prayer, reminiscent of the familiar Ambrosian chant: // To your protection I commend me, gods. / From fairies and the tempters of the night / Guard me, beseech ye! (II.ii.8–10)’ (70). 51–54 discusses the elf/incubus bit in WBT, and a tradition that it implies that ‘And he wol do hem but dishonour’ implies that friars can rape but not beget, unlike incubi, ‘cos they’re impotent; ‘No doubt Chaucer’s Wife of Bath would be capable of such a neat attack, but the interpretation is hardly warranted by either the text of Chaucer or the tradition of the incubus’ (52). Fair enough. Mentions Mroczkowski 1961 on a fragment linking friars with incubi. ‘Giraldus Cambrensis tells of a certain Welshman named Melerius who kept an engagement with his supposed fiancee but actually with a demon disguised as her, on the evening of Palm Sunday. While “indulging in her embraces, suddenly, instead of a beautiful girl, he found in his arms a hairy, rough, and hideous creature, the sight of which deprived him of his senses and he became mad”.’ (53, citing Itin. Camb. 1.5)

*Kiil, V., ‘Hliðskiálf og seiðhjallr’, Arkiv för nordisk filologi, 75 (1960).

Kim, Susan, ‘Bloody Signs: Circumcision and Pregnancy in the Old English Judith’, Exemplaria, 11 (1999), 285–307. Re williams 1990 ‘One of the problems with Williams’s reading of course is [300] that it is not the “wundenlocc” woman who describes her pleasure, but the onion-penis speaker. The woman’s pleasure is still the male speaker’s fantasy’ (299–300). Generally unspeakably symbolic-castrationy. NBs that the poem doesn’t emph Judith’s chastity 297–98 with refs, and admittedly this is odd, tho’ no comment here on lack of seductiveness too. Hmm.

**Kindschi, Lowell, ‘The Latin–Old English Glossaries in Plantin-Moretus 32 and British Museum MS Additional 32,246 (Diss. Stanford University, 1955) Publications number/order number in Dissertation abstracts AAI 0015375

King, Margot H., ‘Grammatica mystica, a Study of Bede’s Grammatical Curriculum’, in Saints Scholars and Heroes: Studies in Medieval Culture in Honour of Charles W. Jones, ed. by Margot H. King and Wesley M. Stevens (Collegeville, MN: Hill Monastic Manuscript Library, 1979), 2 vols, i pp. 145–59. Rather lightweight writeup of a Kalamazoo paper, which didn’t get me very far.

Kinoshita, Sharon, 'Deprovincialising the Middle Ages', in The Worlding Project: Doing Cultural Studies in the Era of Globalisation, ed. by Rob Wilson and Christopher Leigh Connery (Santa Cruz, CA: New Pacific Press, 2007), pp. 61--75. https://www.academia.edu/781972/The_Worlding_Project_Doing_Cultural_Studies_in_the_Era_of_Globalization. '... curiously, while in Orientalism the works of political figures like Balfour or Cromer, intellectuals like Lane or Renan, and men of letters like Lamartine or Flaubert all come in for careful critical scrutiny, Pirenne's characterization of the Middle Ages is taken not as symptomatic of his time and discursive space but as a transparent account of Muslim-Christian relations from the seventh century forward. It is as if Said's trenchant critique of Orientalism is bought at the price of what we might call "Medievalism"---itself a widespread phenomenon' (65).

Kinsella, Thomas (ed. and trans.), The New Oxford Book of Irish Verse (Oxford, 1986). No. 7 anon. C8 ‘Saint Patrick’s Breastplate’: ‘I summon these powers today / to take my part against every implacable power / that attacks my body and soul, / the chants of false prophets, / dark laws of the pagans, / false heretics’ laws, / entrapments of idols, / enchantments of women / or smiths or druids, / and all knowledge that poisons / man’s body or soul’ (13). 6th verse para in presented here.

*Kirby, D., ‘Bede’s Native Sources for the Historia Ecclesiastica’, Bulletin of the John Rylands Library, 48 (1966), 341–71.

Kirby, Ian, Bible Translation in Old Norse (Lausanne, 1986)

*Kirk, Robert, Walker between Worlds: A New Edition of the Secret Commonwealth of Elves, Fauns and Fairies, ed, by R. J. Stewart (Shaftesbury, 1990, orig. 1691) [9001.c.7709]

Kitchen, John, 'Saints, Doctors, and Soothsayers: The Dynamics of Healing in Gregory of Tours's De virtutibus sancti Martini', Florilegium, 12 (1993), 15-. An extended defence of Gregory against charges of superstition, arguing that G goes for secular healing primarily--fair enough, but kind of sad that it gets so worked up over disproving 'superstition' rather than rethinking conceptual categories. 16-17 e.g.s of Gregory presenting himself as seeking all possible medicus cures before turning (successfuly) to Martin--not quite what Flint 1989 sees (this article doesn't cite Flint so is presumably independent of her). Examples of successful medici in G's work (probably overlaps with Flint) 18-19. 20- G as vs soothsayers because they're supernatural competitors (er, as it were). In Kitchen's reading (c. 22ff.) the big difference between saints and medici is not that one heals and the other doesn't, but that one heals spiritually and the other doesn't. 'Now we come to the heart of Gregory’s rationale for promoting saints, rather than doctors, as healers. There is an underlying theological premise running through the VSM (and all of Gregory’s hagiography) that directs the ultimate aim of humanity to redemption. Put simply, the saint — not the physician and certainly not the soothsayer — offers the afflicted the means to the redemptive experience' (25).

*Kitson, Peter, ‘Two Old English Plant-Names and Related Matters’, ES, 69 (1988), 97–112.

Kitson, Peter, ‘From Eastern Learning to Western Folklore’, in Superstition and Popular Medicine in Anglo-Saxon England, ed. by D. G. Scragg (Manchester, 1989), pp. 57-71. OE medicinal ideas as being heavily infl’d from mediterranean. Stuff like the elfy charms in Lacnunga much in minority, h’ever (57-8). More interestingly again, many plant-names are early (pre-migration) loans from Latin. So Anglo-Saxons are borrowing from Latin culture dead early on (58). Gem-stones ascribed major medical properties towards E., but little available in ASE and lapidaries correspondingly infrequent. Few mentions of jewels at all. ‘The two most interesting for our purposes are from near the end of Bald’s Leechbook. Origin of elf-shot? nn. 28-30 useful re II.LXV.5 (has elf-ref); other is II.LXVI. esp. 68 n. 28 re sidsa. Both deal with jet, and tho’ they use loan-word, this is neither surprising given OE lexicon, nor implausible as an OE stone (jet available in Britain) (60-1). But sees latin syntax behind II.LXVI (61). ‘As for chapter LXV section 5, the wine, myrrh and frankincense surely bespeak ultimate foreign origin for all that the ‘elf’ may imply assimilation to native tradition. One would also like to be surer of the derivation of the strange word sidsa (see note 28)’ (61). What’s the relationship between elf-charms and metrical charms?

*Kitson, Peter R., ‘Geographical Variation in Old English Prepositions and the Location of Ælfric’s and other Literary Dialects’, English Studies, 74 (1993), 1-50. 24, fig 8 re Ælfric dialect.

Kitson, Peter R., ‘When Did Middle English Begin? Later than you Think!’, in Studies in Middle English Linguistics, ed. by Jacek Fisiak, Trends in Linguistics: Studies and Monographs, 103 (Berlin, 1997), pp. 221-69. ‘…Ælfric, whose dialect can be localized with high probability to a small area of north Wiltshire, which fair certainty to somewhere not far from there’.

Kitson, Peter R., ‘How Anglo-Saxon Personal Names Work’, Nomina, 25 (2002), 91–131. ?‘The WS plural [of ylf] is probably, via ≈Warwickshire dialect, the etymon of eMod.E ouphe and Mod.E oaf, rather than ON álfr as held by the OED’.

Kittlick, Wolfgang, Die Glossen der Hs. British Library, Cotton Cleopatra A. III: Phonologie, Morphologie, Wortgeographie, Europäische Hochschulschriften: Reihe XIV, Angelsächsische Sprache und Literatur, 347 (Frankfurt am Main, 1998). 127 (6.1.1) identifies feldælbinne as one of several ‘Reliktformen’. 8 clear examples. 127–29 (6.1.2) re <u> for /f/; seems to think (if I’m not mistaken…) that this is mainly in words from early glossaries. Might suggest early origin for ælue? But not certain.

Das unter den Initialen A und B nachträglich eingefügte und erst ab F regelmäßig erscheinende Isidor-Glossar S21 hat sehr zahlreiche Parallelen im Antwerpen-Londonar Glossar, und ist eng mit der vorangegangen Schicht S20 verknüpft, indem beide außer unter B und N stets gemeinsam auftreten, ihre Reihenfolge konstant wahren und der Beginn dieses Schichten paares vom Kompilator jeweils durch eine Sigle (XXXX, XXXX) markiert ist, während die nächste erst wieder nach Abschluß von S21 den Anfang der darauffolgenden Schicht bezeichnet (vlg. 2.2). [Under the capitals A and B additional XXXXoccasional, and first ?from F regular(ly) appearing Isidore-Glosses, S21 has very numerous parallels in AntwerpGlossary, and is tight bound with the predecing S20, meanwhile both, except under B and N constantly occur together, their sequence ?constantly correct?, and the beginning of these tranches matching is marked by the compilator always with a sign, signified during the next first afresh for the conclusion of S21 (?to) the beginning of the following tranche (see 2.2). ] Möglicherweise war eine Scheidung von S20 und S21 bereits in der Vorlage, auf die sich die Sigle bezieht, nicht mehr zu erkennen. Die Glosses zu Isidors Etymologien zeigen denn auch in sprachlicher Hinsicht einen erstaunlichen Berührungspunkt mit der eng an Ép angelehnten Schicht S20, indem sie diese mit ihrer (relativen) Fülle früher Formen noch übertreffen. [The Glosses to I’s ETYM display that also in lignuistic respect…] Demnach reichen auch diese Glossen—oder zumindest ihr Grundstock—bis in die Zeit der ältesten Glossare hinab, ahne allerdings mit ihnen verwandt zu sein. Hinsichtlich ihrer Dialektmerkmale zeigt sich sogar eine Kluft zu den als hauptsächlich merzisch geltenden frühaltenglischen Glossaren: In den ca. 200 Isidorglossen konnten mit Ausnahme zweier Belege der Präposition in keine sicheren anglischen Dialektwörter nachgewiesen werden (s. 10.2). [Consequently these glosses also present?—oder at least their Grundstock—down to back in the time of the oldest Glosses, XXXX certainly with their kinship to see. Regarding their dialectstuff, shows even a cleavage to that as essential(ly) mercian passing-for: in the c. 200 Isidore-glosses, understand with ?the exception ?of 2 verifications of the preposition in none became XXXXproved (see 10.2)]. Dagegen gehören die frühhen Formen überwiegend zu den Büchern VIII bis XX und besitzen auffallend wenige Parallelen im Antwerpen-Londonar Glossar. So bleiben Reliktformen wie blerigeblæ, feldæblinne … auf Cl beschränkt. Dies kann auf Auslassung unverständlicher Formen in der als Sachglossar konzipierten jüngeren Handschrift beruhen. Stärker auf das Kentische weisende Einträge sind in S21 äußerst selten und beschränken sich praktisch auf zusätzliche Interpretamente, deren ursprüngliche Zugehörigkeit zur betrachteten Schicht recht fraglich ist. Ein fall von “zweiter Aufhellung” scheint damit auf das Merzische zu deuten. Westsächsische Merkmale sind gut bezeugt. Auf Grund dieses Befundes könnte sich die Vermutung aufdrängen, die Schicht [232] S21 stelle ein altes südaltenglisches Glossar dar, an dessen Überlieferung im ersten Teil und am Schluß zumindest ein anglischer, vielleicht merzischer Kopist beteiligt gewesen sei. Die Existenz mehrerer hocharchaister anglischer Formen würde eine solche partielle Anglisierung allerdings in die Zeit der ältesten Glossare rücken. Die Annahme, ein anglischer Glossator habe die genannten Teile, ein südlicher den Rest glossiert, stößt dagegen neben dem Mangel an anglischen Dialektwörtern auf die Schwierigkeit, daß beide Partien vielfach in einer nur für diese Schicht typischen Art Erklärungen Isidors wörtlich oder leicht abgewandelt hinzusetzen und daher eher sdenselben Urheber vermuten lassen. Da das mangelhafte Zeugnis der Wortgeographie auch auf einer Saxonisierung beruhen kann, düfte insgesamt mehr dafür sprechen, daß dieses Glossar wie die mit ihm verknüpfte Schicht S20 nicht nur sehr alt, sondern auch anglischer, evtl. merzischer Provenienz ist [then the imperfect ?content of the Wordgeography can also ?derive from a Saxonising, bla bla ‘not only very old, but also Anglian…’ (231-2).

Klaeber, Fr. (ed.), Beowulf, 3rd ed. (Boston: Heath, 1950)

Klaeber, Fr. (ed.), Klaeber's Beowulf and The Fight at Finnsburg, 4th rev. edn by R. D. Fulk, Robert E. Bjork, and John D. Niles (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2008)

Klaniczay, Gábor, The Uses of Supernatural Power: The Transformation of Popular Religion in Medieval and Early-Modern Europe, translated by Susan Singerman, ed. by Karen Margolis, trans. by Susan Singerman (Cambridge, 1990). Cites Brown and Thomas: ‘Peter Brown (1970) explained the decline of late-Roman witchcraft prosecutions by the ascendancy of the figure of the saint, who restructured the field of beliefs in the supernatural; Keith Thomas (1971) related the intensification of early-modern popular witchcraft panics to the Reformation ban on the medieval cult of saints and on ecclesiastical ‘white magic’.’ (4). ‘Bearing these suggestions in mind, and taking a closer look at the historical evolution of popular and learned witchcraft beliefs, it becomes obvious that the gradual emergence of witchcraft persecution, and its [5] sudden decline in the seventeeth—eighteenth centuries, cannot fully be explained as criminal irresponsibility on the part of certain judicial apparatuses (later corrected), or by society’s cynical assigning of a scapegoat role to the ‘witches’ (rendered unnecessary by a later, more balanced situation). Witchcraft beliefs themselves, or rather the inner tensions, the destabilizing transformations of the structures of the popular universe of magic, must have equally had their due share. Popular religion underwent important historical metamorphoses throughout these periods; its situation and evaluation changed radically within the context of late-medieval and early-modern Christianity; it also had its inner dynamics and contradictions, which were capable of generating severe crises, and which thus merit closer scrutiny’ (4-5). So the arrival of Xianity might be expected to prompt radical rethinking of what monsters are all about, etc. Hmm, maybe that’s kind of obvious. See what Brown says.

129-133 summary of Carlo Ginzburg’s findings re C16-17 benandanti. Remarkable stuff. ‘In the exceptionally well-documented case of the benandanti, we have the chance to see how an existing belief system dealing with the problem of fertility and already constituting a special popular version of witchcraft beliefs gets transformed by and confused with learned notions about witchcraft. On the basis of this example it may be asserted with greater conviction that, even if there is no reason to think that the confessions extorted from witches related to an organized pagan cult surviving from late Antiquity till the sixteenth to seventeenth centuries, there might have been different kinds of sorcerers, diviners and seasonal fertility rites, customs and beliefs relating to evil spirits that did get integrated here and there into the general framework of popular and learned witchcraft beliefs’ (132). 133- re slavic kresniks (kerstniks/krsniks). Again, antogonists of the witches (strigas). Detailed correspndences; evidence less extensive and belief-system less complete, but then it’s only very modern evidence (134-5). Cf.s werewolves in various other cultures (Lithuanian, Southern Slavic, Slovenia, a bit German), where werewolves could do very similar things (and be good guys), 135-7. ‘The least we can assert is the persistence from Friuli to Serbia and Bosnia of an interconnected set of beliefs in certain human beings, who were mostly born with a caul and consequuently possessed the magical power to assure fertility for their community, clan, village or region and to protect them from the attacks of evil forces’ (137). ‘In a fascinating book, Nicole Belmont (1971: 19-79) gathers an interesting series of data ranging from the Iceland of the Eddas and Sagas, from Ireland and Friesland through France, Italy and Central europe to Russia, about the visionary, evil-chasing characteristics of people born with a caul’ (137). Hungarian táltos pp. 137-43. Essentially, then, about the re-interpretation of shamanistic cultural elements in terms of witchcraft. Rather like euhemerisation, druids into monks etc.? Notes lack of study of positive sorcerers (tho’ cf. Thomas 1971, 212-51, 548), 149-50.

‘It is worth noting that this later persecution of witchcraft [C18, not C17] is characteristic not only of Hungary, but in some ways of a whole range of countries on what could be called the ‘periphery’ of Europe’ (170). Notes Scandinavia 1660s, New England, Poland 170. Big news is that Empress Maria Theresa only gets stuck in one stamping down other superstitions (‘soothsaying, digging for treasure, divination and witch-persecution’ 171) after the deceased Rosina Polakin is exhumed, beheaded and burnt due to alleged walking in 1755 (170). Witch-hunting gets prohibited as a result of the general investigation by 1766 (171). 178- gets stuck in on vampire craze in E. Europe. ‘…it is not the folkloric or ethnic characterization of this belief that interests me here, but rather the question of how these few dozen stories about vampires attracted considerably greater attention in the Europe of the time [1st half C18] than the burnings of several hundred alleged witches during the same period in Hungary, Poland, Austria and Germany’ (180). ‘The vampire, like the Christian saint, was also a ‘very special dead’ … whose corpse resisted decay, whose grave radiated with a special light, whose fingernails and hair kept growing—like those of several medieval saints, e.g. Saint Oswald, Saint Edmund and Saint Olaf (see Hoffmann 1975: 80)…’ (181). Interesting that they’re all A-S/Norse e.g.s. Re bloodsucking, *Agazzi, Renarto, Il mito del vampiro in Europa, 11-31.

**Klapper, J., ‘Das Gebet im Zauberglauben des Mittelalters’, Mitteilungen der schlesischen Gesellschaft für Volkskunden, 18 (1907), 5-41 [not in GUL]. ‘A valuable article’ re ‘non-Christian incantatory practices’, Flint 1991 (312).

Klein, Thomas, ‘The Old English Translation of Aldhelm’s Riddle Lorica’, The Review of English Studies, n. s., 48 (1997), 345–49, doi: 10.1093/res/XLVIII.191.345

Klein, Thomas, 'Pater Occultus: The Latin Bern Riddles and Their Place in Early Medieval Riddling', Neophilologus, 103 (2019), 399–417. doi:10.1007/s11061-018-9586-4.

*Kleinman, Arthur, The Illness Narratives: Suffering, Healing and the Human Condition (New York: HarperCollins Basic Books, 1988)

Kleinschmidt, Harald, ‘The Geuissae and Bede: On the Innovativeness of of Bede’s Concept of the Gens’, in The Community, the Family and the Saint: Patterns of Power in Early Medieval Europe, Selected Proceedings of the International Medieval Congress, University of Leeds, 4–7 July 994, 10–13 July 1995, ed. by Joyce Hill and Mary Swan, International Medieval Research: Selected Proceedings of the International Medieval Congress, University of Leeds, 4 (Turnhout: Brepols, 1998), pp. 77–102.

Kleinschmidt, Harald, Understanding the Middle Ages: The Transformation of Ideas and Attitudes in the Medieval World (Woodbridge, 2000). 89–119 ‘Groups’. Needs citing together with gender chapter following for gender chapter to make sense, or at least ‘kin groups’ 92–100. Whole thing also citable re layers of identities which one might have—pertinent re your musings on ethnicity etc. ‘Before the acceptance of Christianity, the most widespread rule of inheritance in the kin groups was double descent, which allowed the tracing of descent through the maternal and the paternal lines; even if the paternal side was frequently preferred, the possibility of tracing one’s descent through the maternal side gave ample influence to matrilateral kin. [cf. sister’s son thing etc. I guess, on which for Oir see Ó Cathasaigh 1986] These double-descent kin groups were vertically arrayed, and each represented a social unit in itself. The rights, privileges, personal achievements, affluence and influence of a person depended on his or her kin group rather than on his or her own [93] achievements and personal capabilities. That descent shaped the identity of kin members became explicit in the name-giving habits. In early medieval kin groups names were thus not chosen randomly or through some personal taste but in accordance with the traditions of the kin group’ (92–92). Argues not only that this is reflected in naming, but that we can see influx of names from Bernician dynasty into West Saxon (citing Dumville ASE 5 1976 The Anglian Collection…’, p. 34a (?!): ‘The reception of the Bernician names in Wessex can only be understood as the result of a marriage alliance between both kin groups through which the Bernician names migrated to Wessex. In this case, then, women could act as the inheritors of traditions of name-giving, and this implies that women had the power to determine the identity of kin members’ (93).Oh yeah… Kitson pers. names article may have something on this too re taking name-elements from both lines. He seems to envisage these kin-groups as potentially pretty big—perhaps I guess the sort of thing you might call a ‘tribe’ or ‘clan’. Church gets into trying to change exogamy rules tho’ so you have to marry more distant folks (and definitely not your dad’s wife) (94–95) ‘There were three main long-term goals which guided the attitudes of the Church towards the kin groups. The first was to limit the number of kin members who were entitled to inherit kin rights and property, mainly in order to exclude hereditary succession through matrilineal descent. The second goal was to intercept the ties between the living and the dead in order to establish church [sic] control over the cult of the dead. And the third goal was to reduce the norm-preserving, rule-enforcing and legitimacy-conveying capabilities of the kin-groups in order to be able to subject them to the universal norms and rules which the Church sought to install in the long run’ (93). 1. is supported by royal kin groups etc. so goes down well, tho’ it’s a long struggle with collateral kin-members holding their own in struggles for power etc. (95–96). 2 is tricky, not least because such ties are crucial to legitimation of kings (96–97). 3 has a hard time (97–98). But during C10 the Church really gets well ahead on all these, esp. with reform and therefore reduction in power of kin-groups within Church, and so reduction of their power overall with increase in Church’s power (98– By C11 aristocrats naming themselves after central places of their authority, not after kin (99). Subsequent forces like urbanisation, mercantile class, rise of minor families through successful military service round the time of Crusades etc. etc. push this further (100)—tho’ ‘By contrast, peasant farmers retained collateral kinship well into the eighteenth century’ (100). Neighbourhood groups 101–103; contractual groups 103–7 (eg political alliances, military service, guilds, etc.). Kin, Neighbourhood and Contractual groups not mutually exclusive, and if you didn’t like one you could align with another (like all those wreccan in your geoguþ). 108–11 ‘Political groups as groups by tradition’; 111–18 ‘Social groups as groups distinguished by the Law’. Conclusion 118–19. Kin groups diminish in importance and to a lesser extent neighbourhood groups and (excluding burghers etc.) contractual groups (incl. monks), as central authority (whether royal or ecclesiastical) gets more and more power. ‘The shrinking size, reduced competence and declining autonomy of kin, neighbourhood and contractual groups paved the way for the rising administrative and legal importance of political and social groups. The territorial rules of the high and late Middle Ages faced waning resistance from kin groups against their bid for the accumulation of rights to rule over land and people, placed themselves in control of the mainly rural neighbourhoods either directly or through mediatised lesser aristocrats, and could thus constrain the activities of the militarily active contractual groups. They could finally emerge at the top of a hierarchy of social groups which they could portray as static and divinely willed. Moreover, the territorial rulers because the most effective promoters of political groups, although few of them actually succeeded in constituting new political groups.At the same time, the rules and norms governing social groups could be applied more rigorously, because members of social groups had at their disposal a declining number of options among the groups into which they had been born or had otherwise been integrated’ (119).

120–40 ‘Men and Women’. Church intervenes in marriage and this has a big effect on position of women—limiting rights of women in sexual relationships outside the newly limited definition of marriage,limiting rights to dissove marriage, etc. Although sometimes pitched at equality, males always come outon top in these equations (124–26). ‘In other words, the traditional double-descent extended kin groups shrank in size and were reduced in their capacity to offer protection and support as well as transmitting authoritatively kin-group related genealogical traditions. This diminished capability of kin groups made them less attractive to their [131] male members who had to face personal competition with other men in church [sic] and lay institutions and, eventually, the extended kin groups gave way to residential households headed by a senior male member. While those changes did not in principle abolish matrilineal succession at the same time, they did confine the female household members to tasks the execution of which did not necessitate maintaining their own contacts with the outside world. Thus the androcratic tendencies which had been balanced by double descent in the early medieval kin groups were intensified into an understanding of descent according to which kinship was mainly, though, up to the fifteenth century, not exclusively defined unilaterally while many lesser and impoverished aristocrats were mediatised and sought closer connections with the inhabitants of towns and cities. // Finally, the transformation of the double-descent kin groups into mainly patrilinear residential households necessitated the recasting of the three aspects of the female-male relationships, namely sexuality, emotionality and institutionality. The previous coeval distribution of these three aspects to difference persons of either sex was no longer possible, because only one type of marriage remained in existence and because, in the new households, the descent-based autonomy of women disappeared.Hence the institutional aspect of the relationship between men and women had to be combined with sexuality and with emotionality or with both. It is from the latter type of fusion that, since the eleventh and twelfth centuries, the standard type of European “family” evolved in the castles of the higher aristocracy and the urban communities of towns and cities, comprising, as a rle, a residential household of three generations of kin plus resident servants’ (130–31). Similar assumption for ASE in Härke 1997, 132. ‘The amplification of misogyny’, which he sees as a C12> thing (131–33). Focuses on woman as imperfect man; also that it’s okay for men to have sex with anyone on their dominion (servants, peasant girls, etc.) but never for women (132). ‘The residential household from the eleventh to the thirteenth centuries’ 133–39. About how all the above changes had much less impact on rural peasantry: Jeane d’Arc traces double descent; exogamy laws routinely ignored (133–34). Then how aristocratic women increasingly closed off: men fear that they’ll wind up with heirs not their own; small social units with wider kin much less relevant promoting more importance if individual personality…erm, stuff…134–38. boureois 138–39. women a bit freer. ‘But, already late in the same century [C14], and even more so in the following centuries, Boccaccio’s Novellae served as the proverbial source for never-ending references to cases of women’s allegedly insatiable and decadent sexual lust, along with the seeming necessity to subject them to the control and rule of men’ (139). Hmm, whereas in OE you need to subject them to rule of men ‘cos otherwise they behave like shield-maidens? But then what about all that love-magic (if there is any)?

Klemming, G. E. (ed.), Läke- och örte-böcker från sveriges medeltid (Stockholm: Norstedt, 1883–86) [755.1.c.1.36]

*Kleparsky, Grzegorz, Theory and Practice of Historical Semantics: The Case of Middle English and Early Modern English of girl/young woman (Lublin, 1997).

*Klinck, Anne L., ‘Anglo-Saxon Women and the Laws’, Journal of Medieval History, 8 (1982), 107–21.

Klingenberg, Heinz, ‘Trór Þórr (Thor) wie Trōs Aeneas: Snorra Edda Prolog, Vergil-Rezeption und Altisländische Gelehrte Urgeschichte’, Alvíssmál, 1 (1992), 17–54

Klingenberg, Heinz, ‘Odin und die Seinen: Altisländischer Gelehrter Urgeschichte anderer Teil’, Alvíssmál, 2 (1993), 31–80

Klingshirn, William E. (trans.), Caesarius of Arles: Life, Testament, Letters, Translated Texts for Historians, 19 (Liverpool: Liverpool University Press, 1994)

Anna Kłosowska, 'The Etymology of _Slave_', in _Disturbing Times: Medieval Pasts, Reimagined Futures_, ed. by Catherine E. Karkov, Anna Kłosowska and Vincent W.J. van Gerven Oei (Earth, Milky Way: punctum, 2020).

Kluge, Friedrich, Nominale Stammbildungslehre der altgermanischen Dialekte, Sammlung kurzer grammatiken germanischer Dialekte, 1, 3rd edn (Halle: Niemeyer, 1926)

Knol, Egge and Tineke Looijenga, ‘A Tau Staff with Runic Inscriptions from Bernsterburen (Friesland)’, in Aspects of Old Frisian Philology, ed. by Rolf H. Bremmer Jr., Geart van der Meer and Oebele Vries, Amsterdamer Beiträge zur älteren Germanistik, 31-32 (1990), pp. 226-41. Re short Frisian C8 runestave. [NW2 P701:4.c.44.30 Whalebone, originally over 56cm. (228), runes added later (229). Inscription a bit uncertain, but definities includes kius þu ‘you choose!’ Decoration suggests C8; inscription end of C8 or later (230-31). Inscription discussed 231-41. Suggest Haithabu origin 241; NB stuttrune suggesting Scand infl. 233.

Knüsel, C. J., ‘Pagan Charm and the Place of Anthropological Theory’, Journal of European Archaeology, 1 (1993), 205–8. Looks like it’s be re gender-crossing in early medieval europe (cited Knüsel and Ripley, 159). [NF2 P468.c.131]

Knüsel, Christopher and Kathryn Ripley, ‘The Berdache or Man-Woman in Anglo-Saxon England and Early Medieval Europe’, in Social Identity in Early Medieval Britain, ed. by William O. Frazer and Andrew Tyrrell (London, 2000), pp. 157–91. Burials where bones and goods different sex/genders—tho’ often intepreted away in reports. But ‘Another explanation may relate to the presence of more than two genders in early medieval society. In this chapter, we will argue that individuals of an intermediate sex and gender were likely to have contributed to the social structure of early medieval Europe and, among these, there may have been a type of pre-Christian ritual specialist, a sacerdos’ (159). Discuss problems of sexing 159–61. 161–2 quotes Chaucer on the Pardoner. Note statistical probability of someintersex skellies (162). Ethnographic and Classical comparisons for man-woman, oft have similar functions to shamans 164–67. And this has been found to affect material culture and burial in some socs (167–69). Survey of A-S data 169–81. ‘From the extent of Meaney’s list [of objects which she identifies as amuletic], early medieval socity appears to have been suffused with ritualistic symbolism in burial rites. In addition to these objects, abstract masks have previously been noted in early medieval metalwork, most notably on booches. David Leigh argues that the repeated use of profile masks with juxtaposed human and animal images is meant to be representational. Such representations may be akin to an apotropaic spirit associated with a particular individual, perhaps a helping spirit or transformed deity’ (180). Suggests an explanation for the demise of man-woman identity due to enculturation by Xianity like happened with Westerners in N’Amer 185–86.

Köbler, Gerhard, Lateinisch-Altniederdeutsches Wörterbuch, Göttinger Studien zur Rechtsgeschichte, Sonderband 14 (Göttingen, 1972). ‘Dryas: G ekmagad’. ie. a gloss [see Sievers ii 580, 1]; ‘Eumenis: G (unhiurlik)’; Faunus: G. sletto’; ‘Echo: G galm’; ‘phantasma: H gidrog’. Searched All ælf-gloss lemmata, all on drawing of gloss semantic filds; found some other chance things. XXXXsatyrus? follus?

Koch, John T. (ed.), The Gododdin of Aneirin: Text and Context from Dark-Age North Britain, ed. by John T. Koch (Cardiff: University of Wales Press, 1997), p. ISBN : 0708313744.

Koch, John T. (ed.), Celtic Culture. Santa Barbara: ABC-CLIO, 2005. History Reference Online. ABC-CLIO. 23 Jan. 2009 .

Kocher, Paul H., The Master of Middle-Earth: The Achievement of J. R. R. Tolkien (London, 1972), ‘Eärendil’s star is surely Venus, because Bilbo describes it as shining just after the setting sun … and just before the rising sun’ (7).

*Kochskämper, B., 'Frau' und 'Mann' im Althochdeutschen (Frankfurt am Main: Laing, 1999)

Kock, Ernst Albin, Jubilee Jaunts and Jottings: 250 Contributions to the Interpretations and Prosody of Old West Teutonic Alliterative Poetry, Lunds Universitets årsskrift, n. s., sec. 1, Vol. 14, no. 26 (Lund: Gleerup, 1918).

Kock, Ernst A. (ed.), Den Norsk-Islandska Skaldediktningen, 2 vols (Lund, 1946–49)

Koht, Halvdan, ‘Var “finanne” alltid finnar?’, Maal og minne (1923), 161–75. Basically arguing that Finnr originally denoted magical creatures.

Kopár, Lilla, 'Spatial Understanding of Time in Early Germanic Cultures: The Evidence of Old English Time Words and Norse Mythology', in Interfaces between Language and Culture in Medieval England: A Festschrift for Matti Kilpiö, ed. by Alaric Hall, Olga Timofeeva, Ágnes Kiricsi and Bethany Fox, The Northern World, 48 (Leiden: Brill, 2010), pp. 203--30

Korad, Thanaporn and others, 'Improving Quench Hardening of Low Carbon Steel', Journal of Metals, Materials and Minerals, 21 (2011), 67-74.

Körntgen, Ludger, ‘Forschreibung frühmittelalterlicher Bußpraxis: Burchards “Liber corrector” und seine Quellen’, in Bischof Burchard von Worms 1000–1025, ed. by Wilfried Hartmann, Quellen und Abhandlungen zur mittelrheinischen Kirchengeschichte, 100 (Mainz: Der Gesellschaft für mittelrheinische Kirchengeschichte, 2000), pp. 199–226. [SW 4 79.01.c.2.105] n. 5 handy refs for previous studies of superstition content.

Körntgen, Ludger, ‘Canon Law and the Practice of Penance: Burchard of Worms’s Penitential’, Early Medieval Europe, 14 (2006), 103–17.Discussing how far it’s a practical text. Eventually seems to decide that it’s more didactic than for day to day use, but that it alsoemphasises how important practical exercise of penance was to him.

Kousgård Sørensen, John, ‘The Change of Religion and the Names’, in Old Norse and Finnish Religions and Cultic Place-Names, Based on Papers Read at the Symposium on Encounters Between Religions in Old Nordic Times and Cultic Place-Names Held at Åbo, Finland, on the 19th-21st August 1987, ed. by Tore Ahlbäck (Åbo, 1990), pp. 394–403.

Kousgård Sørensen, John, ‘Stednavne og folketro’, in Sakrale navne: rapport fra NORNAs sekstende symposium i Gilleleje 30.11.–2.12.1990, ed. by Gillian Fellows-Jensen and Bente Holmberg, NORNA-rapporter, 48 (Uppsala: Norna-Förlaget, 1992), pp. 221–34. [XXXX] ‘Det er iøvrigt bemærkelsesværdigt, at den form for religion man har søgt spor af i stednavnene, fortrinsvis har været den før-kristne mytologi omkring gudehierarkiet og pladserne for dyrkelsen af den. Derimod er kristendommens trosforestillinger og –institutioner, således som de røber sig i stednavnene, et område, der kun er lidt betrådt. Det har måske sin forklaring i, at der er andre og fyldigere kilder til kristendommens tidlige historie end stednavnene. Jeg er dog ikke i tvivl m, at f.eks. hagiografien vil kunne profitere af et nærmere studium. Det samme gælder kirkens og gejstlighedens tidlige godshistorie. Et andet delområde, som trænger til en kulegravning, er stednavnenes vidnesbyrd om den såkalt “lavere” religion, de folkelige trosforestillinger, hverdagens magi, “den lille overtro”, som lever sit frodlige liv under ellerved siden af den officielle, centralt organiserede højere religion med dens ritualer og regler, og som undertiden optager forældedeeller afskaffede elementer fra den’ (222). So basically, I think, not much done on Xian or lower mythology/folklore type stuff. Cite this article, esp. 222. ‘Noget andet er, at mange navne utvivlsomt indeholder oplysninger om troen på, at vandet befolkes af væsener med lykkebringende eller skadevoldende egenskaber og evner, som ikke lader sig kontrollere fornuftsmæssigt af menneskenes børn. Nogle af dem har vandet som deres egentlige hjem’ (227), with some good cits for cognates of nicor, dweorg, puca, troll; and one Älvasjö re elven (227). NB check etymology of Danish ellemanden—cognate with æl-? E.g.s from J. Kousgård-Sørensen, Dansk sø- og anavne, I–VII (Copenhagen 1968–69). According to english summary mainly vs. idea that rivers are named after animals because they mythologically are animals.

Kovářová, Lenka, 'The Swine in Old Nordic Religion and Worldview' (unpublished MA thesis, University of Iceland, 2011) http://skemman.is/stream/get/1946/10143/25318/1/Lenka_Kovarova_MA.pdf

Koziol, Geoffrey, ‘Truth and its Consequences: Why Carolingianists Don't Speak of Myth’, in Myth in Early Northwest Europe, ed. by Stephen O. Glosecki, Medieval and Renaissance Texts and Studies, 320/Arizona Studies in the Middle Ages and Renaissance, 21 (Tempe, AZ: Arizona Center for Medieval and Renaissance Studies, 2007), pp. 71-104

Krag, Claus, Ynglingatal og Ynglingesaga: En studie i historiske kilder, Studia humaniora, 2 (Oslo, 1991) [752:16.c.95.36] english summary 253–66.

Krapp, George Philip and Elliott Van Kirk Dobbie (eds), The Exeter Book, The Anglo-Saxon Poetic Records, 3 (New York: Columbia University Press, 1936).

Krappe, Alexander Haggerty, ‘The Valkyries’, Modern Language Review, 21 (1926), 55–73. Seems to note connections other than Óðinn amongst other things. 56–57 re Mar Thincsus stuff, erected reign of Alexander Severus, 222–235 AD. But basically just old fashioned indo-european comparisons waffle. Alas!

Kratz, Dennis M. (ed. and trans.), ‘Waltharius’ and ‘Ruodlieb’, Garland Library of Medieval Literature, Series A, 13 (London, 1984). 965 mentions Wieland. fratres--explicitly male audience. hostages sent off to be gendered--very explicit process of gendering. c. 350 on trembling heart of woman--interesting to get such direct insights into (female) emotion; more like romance than _Beowulf_. 892 plays scared heroine peeping from behind sofa. c. 140 good advice by queen, again c. 375 Walter seems happy to fight to maintain Attila's empire despite being an indirect part of the opporession of his own region. Loyalty to lord coming above ethnic identity? But 252 he talks of patria. Hildegund's willingness to die to preserve chastity 913 Batavrid gave his soul to Orcus--rare implication that the characters are pagan? 1161 Xian prayer or quasi-Xian? 965 Wielandia fabrica 979-80 a characteristic one-liner. 1079 and prec. Hagen would rather pretend to be a sissy than betray W. c. 1130 (and beginning): fascination with European geography 1217-18 To seek a noble death by wounds is better than, My wealth lost, to survive, a lonely wanderer. 1279 Lo, I will die or else do something memorable!"

Krause, Wolfgang, ‘Ing’, Nachrichten der Akademie der Wissenschaften in Göttingen, Philologisch-historische Klasse (1944 no. 10). [NF3 P500.c.95]

Didn’t read it properly. Working its way round some linguistic issues with the name mainly I think. Doesn’t compare rune poem with that þáttr or anything. Cites also Eckhardt, K. A., Ingwi und die Ingweonen in der Überlieferungs des Norderns (Weimer, 1939); Schröder, F. R., Ingunar-Freyr (Tübingen, 1941).

*Krause, Wolfgang, ‘Gullveig und Pandora’, Skandinavistik, 5 (1975), 1–6.

*Kress, H., Máttugar meyjar: íslensk fornbókmenntasaga (Reykjavík, 1993). ‘Helga Kress … has several times argued that a pre-Christian female oral culture, in which women’s arts and literature flourished, was crushed by the male literate Christian Latin culture. To her the texts of seiðr and trolldómr bear witness to a battle between the sexes, where women are the representatives of a regressing culture. Despite the objections raised against a simplistic model of [120] the relation between texual imagery in mythological narratives and existing social conflicts, a certain pattern is visible in the texts concerning the genealogy of seiðr’ (Raudvere 2002, 119–20).

Kress, Helga, Fyrir dyrum fóstru : greinar um konur og kynferði í íslenskum fornbókmenntum : greinasafn / Helga Kress. Staður Forlag Ár Reykjavík : Háskóli Íslands, Rannsóknastofa í kvennafræðum, 1996. 'Staðlausir stafir : slúður sem uppspretta frásagnar í Íslendingasögum': s. 101-134 apparently on how women (may have) had an ironic view of saga-heroes.

Kries, Susanne, Skandinavisch-schottische Sprachbeziehungen im Mittelalter: Der altnordische Lehninfluss, North-Western European Language Evolution, Supplement, 20 (Odense: University Press of Southern Denmark, 2003). No discussion of grimston-type hybrids as far as I can find—maybe email her about these?

Kristensson, Gillis, ‘The Old English Anglian/Saxon Boundary Revisited’, in Studies in Middle English Linguistics, ed. by Jacek Fisiak, Trends in Linguistics: Studies and Monographs, 103 (Berlin, 1997), pp. 271-81.

Loftsdóttir, K. 2007. Útrás Íslendinga og hnattvæðing þess þjóðlega: Horft til Silvíu Nóttar og Magna. Ritið, tímarit Hugvísindastofnunar 1(7): 149-176.

U. D. Skaptadóttir and Kristín Loftsdóttir. 2009. 'Cultivating Culture? Images of Iceland, Globalization and Multicultural Society', in Images of the North, ed. by Sverrir Jakobsson (Amsterdam: Rodopi: 2009), pp. 201--12.

Kristín Loftsdóttir, `Shades of Otherness: Representations of Africa in 19th-Century Iceland', Social Anthropology, 16 (2008a), 172–86. Very similar indeeed to the 2009 'pure manliness' article.

Kristín Loftsdóttir. 2008b. The Bush is Sweet: Identity, Power and Development among WoDaaBe Fulani in Niger (Uppsala: Nordic Africa Institute, 2008).

Kristín Loftsdóttir, Konan sem fékk spjót í höfuðið: Flækjur og furðuheimar vettvangsrannsókna (Reykjavík: Háskólaútgáfan, 2010).

Kristín Loftsdóttir, `Kjarnmesta fólkið í heimi: Þrástef íslenskrar þjóðernishyggju í gegnum lýðveldisbaráttu, útrás og kreppu', Ritið, 9 (2009a), 113--39.

Kristín Loftsdóttir, ‘ "Pure manliness": The Colonial Project and Africa’s Image in 19th-century Iceland’, Identities: Global Studies in Culture and Power, 16 (2009b), 271--93. http://rudar.ruc.dk/bitstream/1800/4084/1/Kristin%20Loftsdottir.pdf. I read the preformatted version so haven't included page nos. 'When originally analyzing the texts, I was primary interested in racial representations but reading through them it was captivating to what extent racial and gendered notions intersected, to some extent, in similar ways as with the more powerful players in the creation of the colonial world. // I base my argument on Mary Louise Pratt’s (1990) ideas of 'brotherhood,' claiming that these narratives served as a model for Icelandic men which enabled them to visualize themselves as part of the educated European and white elite'. 'When discussing the slave trade, Skírnir condemns it strongly but stays silent for the most part regarding European participation. African participation in the slave trade is mentioned along with the British attempts to stop them, thus using the slave trade to reflect on the savagery of Africans simultaneously as constructing the British as bringers of civilization and order'---very much like handling of prostitution in Töfrahöllin. Interestingly the man behind some of the fullest reportage on Africa, from 1861, was Guðbrandur Vígfússon. 'European explorers are thus the center piece of the article, as is in fact stated in the beginning of the text. Their masculinity appears in various ways such as through the emphasis on European military power and their bravery in the land of savagery'. 'Even though Icelanders did not participate directly in the colonial and imperialist project in Africa, they took part in refining and perpetrating the racial and hegemonic ideology of which it was partly constituted'. 'Skírnir’s narratives reflect European identity as masculine and white and furthermore, as Iceland’s colonial position shows, the construction of ‘us’ within certain historical contexts. It indicates that studies of various forms of imperialism in the Nordic countries are interwoven with ‘whiteness’ as a potent social category, and its shaping within nationalistic and racist ideologies. The nineteenth century rearrangement of selfhood through the development of racial and nationalist identities signalled a change of position for certain people, such as the Icelanders, where they could actively position themselves within the category of masculinity and whiteness.'

Kristín Loftsdóttir, `Encountering Others in Icelandic Textbooks: Imperialism and Racial Diversity in the Era of Nationalism', in Opening the Mind or Drawing Boundaries? History Texts in Nordic Schools, ed. by Þorsteinn Helgason and Simone Lässig, Studien des Georg-Eckert-Instituts zur internationalen Bildungsmedienforschung, 122 (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht UniPress, 2010a), pp. 81--95. Fine as far as it goes--late C19 and earlying C20 schoolbooks and their construction of race, but nothing startling. ?=2010. Encountering others in the Icelandic schoolbooks: Images of imperialism and racial diversity in the 19th century. Opening the mind or drawing boundaries? In Helgason, Þ. and Lässig, S. (eds) History texts in Nordic schools, pp. 81-95. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht UniPress.

Kristín Loftsdóttir, `Becoming Civilized: Iceland and the Colonial Project During the 19th Century', Kult, 7 (2010b), 1--6. http://postkolonial.dk/KULT_Publications. Much the same as 2008 and 2009 Africa publications.

Kristín Loftsdóttir, `The Loss of Innocence: The Icelandic Financial Crisis and Colonial Past', Anthropology Today, 26.6 (December 2010c), 9--13. DOI: 10.1111/j.1467-8322.2010.00769.x. Handy overview, with useful refs, including 11--12 for útrásarvíkingur terminology. 'Ann Laura Stoler (2008) uses the term ‘ruins’ in investigating links between past and present, finding significance in what she calls the ‘political life of imperial debris’ in the present (2008: 193), and draws attention to contemporary ruins of the economic crash, visually present in unfinished buildings and abandoned construction sites. // The Icelandic case indicates how relationships and identities of the late 19th- and early 20th-century colonial and imperial world are remembered in a particular way, thus continuing to haunt the present' (10). 'The occupation permitted new business relations and profitable trade to develop, not without [11] a sense of ambivalence in relation to what renewed foreign occupation meant for Iceland as an independent country (Björnsdóttir 1989). This is vividly expressed in Halldór Laxness’ book Atómstöðin' (10-11). 'Icelanders strove to present themselves as having acquired modernity, for example with the Leifsstöð airport building, which celebrated the past through its reference to Iceland’s presumed first settler [what?! America's!!], the Viking Leifur Eiríksson, whilst simultaneously offering a sign of Iceland’s modernity (Einarsson 1996)' (11). 'According to Ann Brydon (2006), Icelanders find foreigners incognizant of Iceland’s ‘full modernity on a par with that of Europe and the United States’, and this leads to fierce engagement of overseas critiques on issues such as whaling. The fear of misrecognition by foreigners goes back further (see discussion in Durrenberger and Pálsson 1989) and is an important thread in Iceland’s history, possibly owing to its small size and marginal position. Pálsson and Durrenberger point out that this is reflected in Icelanders’ conversation among themselves, where the ‘primary scholarly task was not so much to understand others but to be understood by them’ (1992: 313; original emphasis). This desire to be understood goes hand-in-hand with the desire to be acknowledged, exemplified so clearly in the hope articulated in 1903 by Jón J. Aðils, one of Iceland’s leading intellectuals, that sooner or later the nation would have an opportunity to demonstrate its importance in world culture to the rest of the world (Aðils 1903)' (11). 'These images point to ‘unfinished histories’ in Stoler’s sense (2008: 195). Celebrated and legitimized by different actors, they indicate an element of intertextuality, even conflation, between the idea of the migrant settler Viking of the past and indigenous Icelanders in the present, both seen as endowed with unique and exceptional [12] characteristics that differentiate them from others. It does not matter that this involves inventing modern versions of ‘the’ Viking or ‘the’ Icelander. These images thus made readable scattered remains from an imperial period where Icelanders were under foreign rule; they indicate a desperate search for recognition as one of the ‘true’ nations deserving of independence' (11-12). 'We may speculate to what extent such discourses excavated a ‘real’ nation that desired recognition by ‘others’ from the ruins of Icelanders’ fragile self-image. These images seem to play on the feeling that little Iceland was ‘finally’ visible to the outside world. Intentionally or not, the success of these individuals was naturalized through their association with past nationalistic images, making their success a coherent extension of their Icelandic nature. Thus particular social processes were made culturally meaningful through engagement with the past (Hill 1992)' (12); goes on to note UN security Council membership application, including the ex-colony stuff. 'The financial crash of October 2008 signalled an almost overnight change in Iceland’s social and economic conditions. As news and information about the banks’ operations leaked out, people began realizing, one by one, that what mainly foreign analysts had been arguing for several years was true: Icelandic banks had been turned into casinos, with the odds favouring the banks’ biggest shareholders, their directors and board members. At the moment of this realization, the Business-Viking metaphor turned into an embarrassing insult in Iceland – these individuals had led Iceland to the brink of state bankruptcy and sullied the image of Iceland worldwide' (12). `In a sense there was a grain of truth in the comparison with the Vikings, because just like the Vikings in the past, the Business Vikings left a trail of destruction both at home and overseas' (13). 'The identity crisis that followed the economic crash can be seen as plural and intersectional, involving the shock of discovering rampant corruption within Icelandic society itself and intense anxiety over the negative image of Iceland internationally following the collapse. Negative publicity has until now been virtually unknown to most contemporary adult Icelanders, who have mostly experienced Icelandic identity as evoking curiosity wherever one goes. This was compounded by the realization that none of the other European countries was willing to help Iceland out of the crisis, which consequently led to Iceland seeking the assistance of the International Monetary Fund (IMF) (see discussion in Boyes 2009)' (13). Re the 'I am not a terrorist' campaign: 'Interestingly, the postcards portray the so-called Icelandic ‘terrorists’ as light-skinned people in fashionable clothing and handling various consumer items the protesters appear to have been encouraged to pose with. It thus not only asks what could be more ridiculous than seeing an Icelander as a terrorist, but also implicitly suggests the characteristics of those who would ‘fit’ the stereotypical image of someone who could well be a terrorist. This has similarities to the 1905 protest where Icelanders complained about being classified in the wrong way – itself a sign of what Stoler (2008) calls ‘imperial debris’ with its own particular political and social significance' (13).

Kristín Loftsdóttir and Helga Björnsdóttir, `The 'Jeep-Gangsters' from Iceland: Local Development Assistance in a Global Perspective', Critique of Anthropology, 30 (2010), 23--39. DOI: 10.1177/0308275X09345423. First half gives a quick rundown of postwar global development practices and the post-9/11 growth of 'development' as part of 'security' and with it 'peacekeeping' as part of 'development'--thus 'peace' has grown increasingly militarised. 28--31 on 'Icelandic development and the Icelandic peacekeeping unit'; 'Iceland’s official development policy was initiated in 1971 with the acceptance of laws referred to as Icelandic Assistance to the Developing Countries (Aðstoð Íslands við þróunarlöndin); an institution with the same name was initiated that year. The laws were revised in 1981, which led to the establishment of the Icelandic International Development Agency (ICEIDA), which was a part of the Ministry for Foreign Affairs and was responsible for bilateral development assistance. The Ministry for Foreign Affairs, however, was more directly responsible for multilateral assistance, including relations with the World Bank and various UN organizations (ICEIDA, 2004). Discussions in the Icelandic parliament which led to the laws of 1971, emphasized development as a moral duty for the people of Iceland (Björnsson, 1964), as Iceland itself has a history of ‘almost being eradicated by poverty and suppression’ (Olgeirsson, 1964) and could [29] therefore sympathize with less-developed nations and provide them with some guidance on their path toward modernization (Loftsdóttir and Björnsdóttir, 2008)' (28--29). 'Important questions on peacekeeping in a wider political context are seldom asked, nor has the nature of the ‘contested meanings’ of peacekeeping and peace operations (Whitworth, 2004: 14) been problematized. As Whitworth maintains, peacekeeping is a contradiction in itself, among other things, because of its reliance upon professional soldiers as peacekeepers and because of the part peacekeeping plays in constructing a national identity based on the notion of maintaining the distinctions between ‘us’ and ‘them’. As she puts it: ‘peacekeeping serves as part of the contemporary colonial encounter, establishing knowledge claims about both “us” and “them”, knowledge claims that then serve to legitimize the missions themselves’ (2004: 15). Questions about this ‘uneasy’ (Laurence, 1999) and somewhat contradictory relationship between humanitarian aid and peacekeeping tend to be left out of contemporary political discussions in Iceland' (31); fuller discussion runs 31--32. Valgerður Sverrisdóttir tries to open up more space for women in ISAF: 'This was accomplished in part by no longer participating in ISAF’s observation team in Afghanistan, who the minister referred to as ‘the jeep-gangsters’, and by sending in two health workers, a midwife and a nurse for two weeks to teach local women in Afghanistan some basics in midwifery and healthcare (31).

Kristín Loftsdóttir, `Racist Caricatures in Iceland in the 19th and the 20th Century’, in Iceland and Images of the North, ed. by Sumarliði R. Ísleifsson (Québec: Presses de l'Université du Québec, 2011a), pp. 187–204. Focuses on Tíu litlir negrastrákar, 'Ten Little Negroes'. 'I take the book and this controvery as an example of how Iceland is often exempted from the global heritage of racism. As scholars have started to explore recently, the Nordic countries often have had a hegemonic position as existing separate from colonialism and racism of the 19th and early 20th centuries' (187). 'In my analysis of blog pages written at the peak of the debate and in interviews, many express the view that the book is not racist because Icelanders were, after all, ot familiar with racism at that time due to their isolation from the rest of the world and that the book [199] was a positive part of Iceland's history and heritage, often directly associating the book with Muggur' (198--99). 'What is visible in many of the comments is that they do not engage with their own position as, presumably, "white" individuals, speaking about "black" people in the terms that "they" should not be offended and even that the book provides "us" with an opportunity to learn about black people' (199). 'Some of the discussions focusing on the republishing of the ''Ten Little Negroes'' can be seen as colonial nostalgia in the sense that they bring images of more "simple" times when such images were not objected to. As such, these public discourses seek to separate Icelandic identity from past issues of racism and prejudice. Contextualising the publication of the nursery rhyme in 1922 within European and North American contexts shows, however, that the book fitted very well with European discourses of race, and the images show similarity to caricatures of black people in the United States. Furthermore, idea of racial groups ranked in a hierarchical and racist way were well established in Iceland at that time and were seen as useful in Icelandic schoolbooks in classifying diversity' (200).

Kristín Loftsdóttir, `The Country without Racism: Multiculturalism and Colonial Identity Formations in Iceland', Social Identities, 17 (2011b), 11–25. DOI:10.1080/13504630.2011.531902

Kristín Loftsdóttir, `Whiteness is from Another World: Gender, Icelandic International Development and Multiculturalism', European Journal of Women’s Studies, 19 (2012a), 41–54. 'Issues concerning multiculturalism and peacekeeping as a part of international development are usually theorized separately from each other but I find them sharing entanglements with the nationalistic ideologies of Europe as carrier of justice and equality, as well as a collective forgetting of past histories that foreground and position people in relation to migrations and encounters in the present' (42). '‘Sameness’ as theorized by Gullestad is quite interesting when placed in relation to ideas of ‘whiteness’ and of western tendencies of ‘rescuing brown women from brown men’, as phrased by Spivak (1988), drawing attention to how an idea of the egalitarian Nordic countries is congruent with a particular ordering of the world into the more civilized and less civilized' (43)--directly relevant to Töfrahöllin. 'I find Stoler’s (2008) insights inspirational in this context when she critically evaluates contemporary discourses of colonial legacies, calling for the need for analysing better the ‘complexities and more subtle dispositions of the postcolonial present’ (2008: 192). Instead of focusing on the colonial ‘legacy’, she calls for the importance of looking at the ‘political life of imperial debris’ as well as how structures of dominance remain, and ‘the uneven pace with which people can extricate themselves’ (2008: 193). Introducing two terms as key concepts, ‘ruins’ and ‘imperial formation’, Stoler seeks to capture the fluidity involved' (43). 'Mary Louise Pratt’s ideas of [45] ‘brotherhood’ (1990) in relation to nationalistic ideologies can be used to illuminate the interlinking of gender and race. Late 19th-century Icelandic authors visualized Icelanders within a masculine and educated European elite, positioning themselves as a part of ‘brotherhood’ of colonizers rather than the colonized (Loftsdóttir, 2009)' (44--45). Sense of a lack of (recognition of) modernity + massive growth of international economic engagement in early C21 (45). Entry into international development discourses 45--46. 'In a speech in 2007, the Minister of Foreign Affairs argued that ‘the’ story of how a ‘poor colony’ becomes transformed into a prosperous society is inspirational to many poorer countries (Gísladóttir, 2007a)' (46). 'Interest in Islam has been growing in Iceland since 9/11, as elsewhere in Europe, which is consequently manifested to some extent in public discussions regarding Muslim immigrants and Icelandic Muslims. One can easily find heated discussions about Muslims and Islam on Icelandic blog pages, as blogging has for the last few years become an important avenue in Iceland as a way of getting one’s opinions heard (Loftsdóttir, 2011)' (46); 46--47 discusses the mosque; 47 concerns re Christianness or otherwise of education. 47 women; 'It is, nevertheless, interesting how frequently the criticism of Muslims is entangled with issues relating to Muslim women and that these aspects of the discussion are usually not objected to specifically' (47). 'References to women are thus used as a way to dwell on the criticism of Muslims in general, and to the glory of European societies' (47). 48--49 a smaller version of Kristín Loftsdóttir and Helga Björnsdóttir 2010. 'Discussions of women in relation to international development, peacekeeping and immigration have avoided criticism or concerns for the larger political context of Iceland as a western country. Thereby they are not placed in a context that would bring to light issues such as the complexities of the relationship between the US and Afghanistan, the war on terror in general or the imprisonment of Muslims in Guantanamo Bay detention camp, which must all be a part of the larger background in which these interactions and discussions take place. Iceland is thus purified of any ‘real’ historical or contemporary references' (49). 'It is, furthermore, interesting how discourses of immigration – of people moving into Europe – have been quite divorced from discourses of European projects based on ideas of modernization overseas under the banner of international development and peacekeeping ... Justifications are used in one context – the international one – to claim that ‘we’ are going to teach or help people in other countries to ‘gain’ peace and human rights, and then used in a local context at home to silence and stereotype certain communities on the basis of their alterity' (50); 'Similarly, discourses prioritizing Muslim women’s position Iceland within the grand narrative that associates European-ness with human rights, while failing to recognize Muslims as a very small minority group in the Icelandic context and as a group which is discriminated against in the contemporary European context. Being Icelandic – that is European but without a history of colonial domination – is somehow seen as intensifying this position [51] of innocence. The complete divorcing of whiteness or power from these discourses implies that whiteness in a sense belongs to another world, the world of past colonialism, of which Iceland is not and never has been a part' (50--51).

Kristín Loftsdóttir, `Belonging and the Icelandic Others: Situating Icelandic Identity in a Postcolonial Context', in Whiteness and Postcolonialism in the Nordic Region: Exceptionalism, Migrant Others and National Identities, ed. by Kristín Loftsdóttir and Lars Jensen (Farnham: Ashgate, 2012b), pp. 56--72. 'As I will show, simultaneously with resisting their position as a Danish dependency in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, Icelanders participated in perpetrating and enforcing stereotypes of colonized people in other parts of the world, positioning themselves very carefully as belonging with the civilized Europeans, instead of the uncivilized "others" ' (citing herself, 2010) (57). 'As I have pointed out earlier in my own work, Icelandic images of Africa and other colonizes people were not so much concerned with constructing images of "others" as they were with positioning Icelanders as a part of the civilized European' (58). Icelanders in C19 or so WERE contemporary ancestors from the point of view of, e.g., Danes (60). 1.8% foreign nationals 1995 => over 8% 2009 (63). Anti-immigrant discourses on islam parallel other Euro countries despite Iceland having a compleyely different history: 'Parts of these discussions are similar to debates in other countries, for example the concern over the Muslim presence (Loftsdóttir 2011, 2012), which is startling given Iceland's quite different immigration history' (63). As Kristín has shown (2012, 57), simultaneously with resisting their position as a Danish dependency in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, Icelanders participated in perpetrating and enforcing stereotypes of colonized people in other parts of the world, positioning themselves very carefully as belonging with the civilized Europeans, instead of the uncivilized “others”.

Kristín Loftsdóttir, `Colonialism at the Margins: Politics of Difference in Europe as Seen Through Two Icelandic Crises', Identities: Global Studies in Culture and Power, 19 (2012c), 597--615. DOI: 10.1080/1070289X.2012.732543 pages. 607-10 covers the 'Do we look like terrorists, Mr. Brown?' campaign.

Kristín Loftsdóttir and Gísli Pálsson, 'Black on White: Danish Colonialism, Iceland and the Caribbean', in Scandinavian Colonialism and the Rise of Modernity: Small Time Agents in a Global Arena, ed. by Magdalena Naum and Jonas M. Nordin, Contributions To Global Historical Archaeology, 37 (New York: Springer, 2013), pp. 37--52. DOI: 10.1007/978-1-4614-6202-6_3. http://link.springer.com/chapter/10.1007/978-1-4614-6202-6_3.

Kristín Loftsdóttir, `Going to Eden: Nordic Exceptionalism and the Image of Blackness in Iceland', African and Black Diaspora: An International Journal, 7 (2014), 27--41. DOI: 10.1080/17528631.2013.858920

Kristín Loftsdóttir, `Vikings Invade Present-Day Iceland', in Gambling Debt: Iceland’s Rise and Fall in the Global Economy, ed. by E. Paul Durrenberger and Gisli Palsson (Boulder: University Press of Colorado, 2015), pp. 3--14. DOI: 10.5876/9781607323358.c001

Kristín Loftsdóttir, ` “Still a Lot of Staring and Curiosity”: Racism and the Racialization of African Immigrants in Iceland', in New Dimensions of Diversity in Nordic Culture and Society, ed. by Jenny Björklund, Ursula Lindqvist (Newcastle upon Tyne: Cambridge Scholars Publishing, 2016), pp. 263--78.

Kristín Loftsdóttir, `Being “the Damned Foreigner”: Affective National Sentiments and Racialization of Lithuanians in Iceland', Nordic Journal of Migration Research, 7.2 (2017), 70--77. DOI: 10.1515/njmr-2017-0012

Kristjana Guðbrandsdóttir, Von: Saga Amal Tamimi ([Reykjavík]: Bókaútgáfan Hólar, 2013).

Kroesen, Riti, ‘The Valkyries in the Heroic Literature of the North’, Skáldskaparmál, 4 (1997), 129–61. 129–31 re the point that ‘shield maidens’ and ‘valkyries’ are different. One human one supernatural; I wonder, then, if we can see the latter as the mythological model for the former? ‘Certain valkyries always appear in groups. In some texts they can be grim female demons who satiate themselves on the blood and flesh of the newly slain. According to Golther [1888], these valkyries are of the oldest type, and they are not associated with Óðinn yet’ (131). Basically supports this. Unfortunately, the progression she sees in the texts doesn’t necessarily match their dates… Mainly a survey of narrative references to valk types. woo. pp. 138–51. Rubbish bit at end.

Kaarle Krohn, Suomalaiset syntyloitsut: Vertaileva tutkimus, Suomalaisen Kirjallisuuden Seuran toimituksia, 157 (Helsinki: Suomalaisen Kirjallisuuden Seura, 1917).

Krohn, Kaarle, Magische Ursprungsrunen der Finnen, trans. by Otto Bussenius, FF Communications, 52 (Helsinki: Suomalainen tiedeakatemia, 1924) [trans. from Kaarle Krohn, Suomalaiset syntyloitsut: Vertaileva tutkimus, Suomalaisen Kirjallisuuden Seuran toimituksia, 157 (Helsinki: Suomalaisen Kirjallisuuden Seura, 1917)].

Kroker, E. (ed.), Tischreden, D. Martin Luthers Werke: kritische Gesamtausgabe, 6 vols (Weimer: Böhlau, 1912–21). If you ever discover the editor of this… Try library cats.

*Kroll, J. and B. Bachrach, ‘Sin and Mental Illness in the Middle Ages’, Psychological Medicine, 14 (1984), 507–14 http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/sites/entrez?cmd=Retrieve&db=PubMed&list_uids=6387755&dopt=Citation: The modern stereotype that in the Middle Ages there was a general belief that mental illness was caused by sin is reviewed. The authors examined 57 descriptions of mental illness (madness, possession, alcoholism, epilepsy, and combinations thereof) from pre-Crusade chronicles and saints' lives. In only 9 (16%) of these descriptions did the sources attribute the mental illness to sin or wrongdoing, and in these cases the medieval authors appeared to use this attribution for its propaganda value against an enemy of their patron saints, their monastery lands, or their religious values. The medieval sources indicate that the authors were well aware of the proximate causes of mental illness, such as humoral imbalance, intemperate diet and alcohol intake, overwork, and grief. The banality that, since God causes all things he also causes mental illness, was only used by medieval authors under special circumstances and in a minority of cases. It does not constitute evidence of superstitious and primitive notions about mental illness in the early Middle Ages.

Kroll, Luisa, 'Thor's Saga', Forbes Global, 8.5 (2005), 78.

*Kuhn, A., Indische und germanische Segensprüche. Bonser 1963, 164: ‘Kuhn draws parallels between the Germanic elves who fascinate the wanderer at night and the Vedic Apsaras and gandharvas who fascinate and cause diseases to men and women respectively. Both were thought to enter into the human body and to be driven away by the recitation of a charm [fn. 8: eg. Artharveda, iv. 37] and the smelling of a herb called arâtahî (?hartshorn). Various herbs, such as St. john’s wort and valerian, were also thought to drive away elves’ (164). Notes dwarf-charm MS Bodley Auct. F. 3. 6, fo. 1, dworh (167).

Kuhn, Hans, ‘Philologisches zur altgermanischen Religionsgeschichte’, in Kleine Schriften: Aufsätze und Rezensionen aus den Gebieten der germanischen und nordischen Sprach-, Literatur- und Kulturgeschichte, 4 vols (Berlin: de Gruyter, 1969–78), iv pp. 223–321. Weird. But anyway, accoridng to Lindow bibl, Reallexicon der ermanischen Altertumskunde entry on elves repr.; more intereting new articles : ‘ “God” in Old Norse’ (258–65),

‘The vanir’ (269–77), Mainly re Njọrðr and etymology, but other stuff too. Important parallel observations to yours in infrequency of vanr—needs reading properly. E.g. points out that you get ás-, álf-, jọtun’, goð-heimar but vanaheimar with gen. pl.—surely later formation therefore (274). ‘Njörd, Frey und Freyja sind in der heidnischen Skaldendichtung gut bezeugt [attested], dazu auch, doch nur in Kenningen für Menschenwesen, Nirðir und Niọrðungar, nie [never] dagegen der uns für diese Familie geläufige Name der Wanen (vanir). Er wird in diesem Teil der Dichtung erst seit der ersten Hälfte des 11.Jahrhunderts vereinzelt genannt, in den eddischen Götterliedern aber oft. Ich sehe hierfür keine andre Erklärung, als daß der Wanen-name in den westnordischen Ländern mindestens bis gegen 1000 noch kaum bekannt war, die Eddalieder, die ihn nennen, aber jünger sind. Eine wichtige Spur, Van-landi als Name eines der mythischen Ahnherrn des altschwedischen Königsgeschlechts, bezeugt seit rund 900, gibt uns Recht zu der These, daß der Name vanir und die an ihn geknüpften Mythen schwedischer Herkunft waren und in den Jahrzehnten um die Jahrtausendwende nach Norwegen drangen, als es dort mit dem Heidentum—als Kult-religion—zuende ging, wärend es in den Kerngebieten Schwedens noch unerschüttert war

‘Asgard, Midgard und Utgard’ (295–302) questions age of this distinction. Eek! Metsätalo. ‘Der darglegte Gebrauch von germ. undar ist der einzige,der an. und/undir Miðgarði also “auf der (ganzen) Erde” erklären kann, und er sichert damit im Bunde mit Grímnismál 41 die Aukunft [piece of information] Snorris, daß Miðgarðr als ein um die bewohnte [inhabited] Erde aufgefürhrter Wall gedacht war und sein zweites Glied hier ähnliches bedeutete wie nach ihm Ás- und Út-garðr’ (298). ‘Es kommt noch hinzu, daß sich nach einem vielbezeugten Mythus die schon erwähnte Weltschlange im Meere rings um die Erde ringelte, diese also vom Weltmeer umgeben war. Was sollte da noch ein Wall um den Erdkreis zum Schutz vor den Riesen?’ (301).

Miðgarðr is paralleled by the well-attested Old English middangeard (literally ‘middle-enclosure’), alongside other Germanic cognates (see Kuhn 1978, 298–300),

Kulikowski, Michael, ‘Nation Versus Army: A Necessary Contrast?’, in On Barbarian Identity: Critical Approaches to Ethnicity in the Early Middle Ages, ed. by Andrew Gillett, Studies in the Early Middle Ages, 4 (Turnhout: Brepols, 2002), pp. 69–84. 69 n. 2: ‘The use of the term “barbarian” is deliberate and surely non-pejorative. It is to be preferred programmatically to the noun “German” and the adjective “Germanic”. “Germans” and “Germanic peoples” are the legacy of nineteenth-century philology; the usage posits community and ethnicity on the basis of shared language. But we know that before the Carolingian era, language was not regarded as a sign of ethnic distinction (Pohl, “Telling the Difference”), while late antique authors [70, still n. 2] did not include in their definition of Germans many groups which modern scholars, working in the shadow of philology, freely so classify’. Hmm…

*Künzel, Rudi, ‘Paganisme, syncrétisme et culture religeuse populaire au haut moyen âge’, Annales, 47 (1992), 1055–69.

Kurtz, Benjamin P., From St. Antony to St. Guthlac: A Study in Biography, University of California Publications in Modern Philology, vol. 12, no. 2 (1926, pp. 103-46)

Kuusi, Matti, 'Concerning Unwritten Literature', in Matti Kuusi, Mind and Form in Folklore: Selected Articles, ed. by Henni Ilomäki, trans. by Hildi Hawkins, Studia fennica. Folkloristica, 3 (Helsinki: Suomalaisen Kirjallisuuden Seura, [1994]), pp. 23-36

Kuypers, A. B. (ed.), The Prayer Book of Aedeluald the Bishop, Commonly Called the Book of Cerne (Cambridge, 1902). ‘The title Book of Cerne … has been retained. In reality the book had no connection with Cerne, at any rate until a late stage in its history; at most it may have found its way there in the middle ages’ (v). But the aelf bit is in BL. Royal MS. 2. A. xx; description p. 200. Vellum MS 52 leaves, leaves soiled and stained. ‘It was written in England in the eighth century’ quoting E. Maunde Thompson, Catalogue of Ancient Manuscripts in the British Museum. 3 hands, this in hand 2, ‘transitional between round and pointed’, also from Thompson. diplomatic ed. of original text pp. 201-225. p. 221 for Royal MS charm thing: f. 45v reads (whole thing coterminous with folio):

oratio

Obsecro te his xps filius di uini per crucem

tuuam [2nd u partially erased] ut demittas delicta mea · pro beata

cruce · custodi caput meum · pro benedicta

cruce custodi oculos meos · pro ueneranda

cruce custodi manus meas · pro sca cruce

custodi uiscera mea · pro gloriosa cruce custodi

genua mea · pro honorabili cruce custodi

pedes meos · et omnia membra mea ab omni

bus insidiis inimici · pro dedicata cruce in cor

pore xpi [tui interlined Ac (ie later hand)] · custodi animam meam et libera me in

nouissimo die ab omnibus aduersariis · pro clauibus

sanctis quae in corpore xpi dedicate erant ·

tribue mihi uitam æternam et misericordiam tuam

his xps · et uisitatio tua sca custodiate spm meum ·

Eulogumen · patera · cae yo · cae agion · pneuma ·

cae nym · cae ia · cae iseonas · nenon amin · adiuro te

satanae diabulus aelfae . per dm [space of 5 letters] uiuum

ac uerum · et per trementem diem iudicii [space of 2 letters] ut

refugiatur ab homine illo qui abeat hunc aepist

scriptum secum in nomine di patris et filii et

sps sci

Kuczaj, Stan A. II and Jennifer L. Hendry, ‘Does Language Help Animals Think?’, in Language in Mind: Advances in the Study of Language and Thought, ed. by Dedre Gentner and Susan Goldin-Meadow (Cambridge, MA: MIT Press, 2003), pp. 237–75. ‘Although some nonhuman primate species and some cetacean species have impressive cognitive abilities, these abilities are primarily concerned with the here and now, oftentimes the attainment of some concrete goal. In contrast, even young human children spontaneously engage in dialogues concerning hypoethetical events. One important difference between human and animal cognition, then, may be the extent to which possible and even impossible events and objects can be represented’ (241).

Kunkel, Benjamin, Utopia or Bust: A Guide to the Present Crisis (London: Verso, 2014).

*Kvideland, Reimund, and Henning K. Sehmsdorf, eds, Scandinavian Folk Belief and Legend (Minneapolis, 1988).

L

La Berge, Leigh Claire, `Capitalist Realism and Serial Form: The Fifth Season of The Wire', Criticism, 52 (2010), 547--67. DOI: 10.1353/crt.2010.0046, repr. in ''Reading Capitalist Realism'', ed. by Alison Shonkwiler and Leigh Claire La Berge (Iowa City: University of Iowa Press, 2014), pp. 115--39. ' The representation of black economic violence produces one form of seriality—that is, the series' realism. Conversely, white fictitious killing, the form of seriality that emerges in season 5, offers a critique of the series' previous realism and its reception. Black serial killing is read transparently as economic: it is treated as real within the narrative frame, and it is read as realist by the viewer; white serial killing is treated as psychological within the narrative frame and therefore read as not realist by the viewer.'

La Berge, Leigh Claire, Scandals and Abstraction: Financial Fiction of the Long 1980s (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2014). 'Scandals and Abstraction is a literary history of what happens to narrative form when too much money circulates at once. The particular scene of overaccumulation that the book concentrates on dates in the United States to the late 1970s and 1980s. An event whose effects continue into the present, the fact of too much money was most recently, and spectacularly, represented in the 2007–8 credit crisis. But before that crisis, the presence of overaccumulated money capital had (p.4) already staked out an impressive archive in literature, film, and the expanse of horizontal, textual space that I call financial print culture.' 'The larger transition that Scandals and Abstraction provides through its literary and cultural history is that of how finance came to stand in metonymically for “the economy” in the sense that the representation of the financial sector of economic activity is the closest thing we have to the representation of an economic totality. My contention can be demonstrated empirically, as the New York Times did in 2009 when it reported that the bulk of recent economic journalism concerned financial services, but I am more interested in exploring a cultural logic through which economic signification is derived in large part through the representation of finance.6 My claim is that this metonymic substitution itself is foundational for our contemporary financial society, and I intend to contribute to the growing field of work that some scholars have begun calling “critical finance studies” and others “cultures of finance.”7' (p. 4). 'Because the ascension of finance to a site of representational dominance frames our contemporary moment, a history of that ascension provides a site for its critique. The literary and cultural analyses that constitute this book reveal that this substitution of finance for the economy transpired on three broad levels' (5): right, so medievalism and other backwards-looking forms of writing help us to see the economy, capitalist or otherwise, from a not-in-terms-of-finance point of view. 'In the work of Tom Wolfe, Oliver Stone, and Jane Smiley I delimit a nostalgic capitalist realism'--sounds a bit like SSF? 'Three theoretical constructions predominate (p.11) throughout my study, and they traverse and unify my cultural archive; I present them here by the scale in which they structure the book. The first I call “financial masculinity,” the second, “financial print culture,” and the third, “financial form.” Financial masculinity organizes the idioms and logics of interpersonal violence, of white masculine anxiety in the face of a newly global and permeable economy, and of the heterosexual possibility and homosexual intrigue that seems both available and feared wherever financial transactions occur. The second theoretical constant that defines this study is, strictly speaking, not limited to representation: these texts represent and engage with same financial print culture that I have used to introduce and contextualize them, an engagement which ultimately becomes a formal problem.' Interesting on how lit problematises economic debates about the nature of value: 'And because representation is part of finance, the study of its representation has the potential to reveal something about the object itself. At the same time, the repeated claim from critics such as Shell that money, like language, is a system of signs is as true as it is in need (p.26) of refinement. David Graeber has suggested that money’s lack of a stable referent, its imaginary qualities, are themselves a kind of property distributed by class so that the question one should ask is not whether finance contains literary-like fictions, but: For whom and how do these fictitious values become real?87 Each side of my archive is haunted by the other: Within the literary archive of novels, journalism, and autobiography remains the question is: not all representation of the economy a metaphorical elaboration of some quality, in finance, particularly, the elaboration of violence? Conversely, political economy remains haunted by the poststructuralist question: what if value itself is fundamentally a discursive problem? Such fundamental questions, problematics really, cannot be answered but only negotiated anew.' Fn 7: '(7) . These terms are now being used in conferences and working groups, primarily. Financialization is an economic order. This book is about financialization, but here, in the introduction, I need to situate financialization in a larger, political, historical context that many critics refer to as neoliberalism. I like Michael Hardt’s definition of neoliberalism as one in which the market controls the state; classical liberalism reverses the roles. Hardt, Michael. “Militant Life.” New Left Review 64, July-August 2010Find it in your Library. See also, Leo Panitch and Martijn Konigns “Myths of Neoliberal Deregulation” New Left Review 57 (May-June 2009): 67–83Find it in your Library, for a definition that rejects the commonly held view that neoliberalism is an effect of deregulation. In the broader field of representation, for the cultural logics of neoliberalism see, for example, Everybody’s Family Romance: Reading Incest in Neoliberal America by Gillian Harkins (Minneapolis: Minnesota University Press, 2009)'. 'The point is not to accuse these critics of some sort of heresy or to claim that Marxists are entitled to a monopoly on economic criticism; I too have plenty of problems with the intellectual traditions of Marxism, many of which are reactionary and sclerotic, full of what Benjamin himself so accurately diagnosed as “leftist melancholy.” But it is to point out that perhaps Marx’s strongest argument—that value is social, exploitative and imminently transformable—is itself abandoned in many of these critiques' (p. 22). 'In film studies, Jerome Christensen considers the absolute immanence of the corporate structure as an aesthetic form in his America’s Corporate Art: The Studio Authorship of Hollywood Motion Pictures where movie plots double as corporate organizational plots, and vice versa. These works leave latent the description of the larger structure—contemporary capitalism—that animates the local contexts that they examine, and it is precisely this theoretical space that my project seeks to fill' (p. 24). 'It may be objected that the tension I have isolated is a rehearsal of the basic axis that defines, and thus, (p.32) separates Marxism and poststructuralism: externality versus internality, durée versus spatiality, production versus exchange, class versus subject, immanent versus transcendent, and so on. If literary scholars accept the first set of alternatives, then they see texts as determined by the economy; if they accept the second, then texts have a homological structure that is like the economy.'

Ladd, C. A., ‘The “Rubens” Manuscript and Archbishop Ælfric’s Vocabulary’, Review of English Studies, new series, 11 (1960), 353–64. Good article on history of provenance etc. but not relevant to me

***La Farge, Beatrice and John Tucker, Glossary to the Poetic Edda (Heidelberg, 1992).

Lagerholm, Åke (ed.), Drei Lygisọgur: Egils saga einhenda ok Ásmundar berserkjabana, Ála flekks saga, Flóres saga konungs ok sona hans, Altnordische Saga-Bibliothek, 17 (Halle (Saale): Niemeyer, 1927). Ála Flekks saga ed. 84–120. Ch 12 105–107:

‘1. Eina nótt liggr Áli í sæng sinni sofandi, en sveinar hans lágu umkring hann. Áli lætr þá illa í svefni, ok eru svenfarir hans bæði harðar ok langar; 2. en um síðir vaknar hann,ok var þá ákafliga móðr, ok þat [sá] fylgðarmenn Ála, at hann hafði á sínum líkama mọrg sár ok stór. Þeir fréttu hann, hverju þetta sætti. [106] 3. [H]ann tekr svá til máls: “Nótt trọllkona kom til mín,” sagði hann, “ok barði mik með járnsvipu bæði hart ok tíðum, [ok] kvaz eigi fyrr hafa mátt hefna mér, er [ek] hljóp í burt frá henni ór hellinum, ok þat annat, er [ek] lagða á Glóðarauga bróður hennar, ok lagði hom þat á mik, at þessi sár skyldi aldri gróa fyrr en [b]rœðr hennar gœddi mik; 4. ok í þeim sárum skylda ek liggja X vetr, ok ef ek yrða þá eigi grœddr, [þá] skylda ek andaz ór þeim sárum. Er ek nú svá stirðr ok lerkaðr, at ek má héðan hvergi ganga.” [105–6]. Puts sagac. 1400 lxvii–lxviii; earliest MS C15 lxviii.

*Laín Entralgo, Pedro, The Therapy of the Word in Classical Antiquity, ed. and trans by L. J. Rather and John M. Sharp (London 1970). First pulb. 1958. [GUL Anthrop K410 LAINE]

Laing, David (ed.), The Orygynale Cronykilof Scotland by Androw of Wyntoun, The Historians of Scotland, 2,3, 9, 3 vols (Edinburgh: Edmonston and Douglas; Paterson, 1872–79).

Laing, Margaret, ‘Anchor Texts and Literary Manuscripts in Early Middle English’, in Regionalism in Late Medieval Manuscripts and Texts: Essays Celebrating the Publication of ‘A Linguistic Atlas of Late Mediaeval English’, ed. by Felicity Riddy (Cambridge: XXXX, 1991), pp. 27–52.

Laing, Margaret, Catalogue of Sources for a Linguistic Atlas of Early Medieval English (Cambridge, 1993)

Lakoff, George, Women, Fire and Dangerous Things: What Categories Reveal about the Mind (Chicago, 1987)

Lambertus, Hendrik (2013): Von monströsen Helden und heldenhaften Monstern. Zur Darstellun und Funktion des Fremden in den originalen Riddarasögur, Basel/Tübingen: A. Francke Verlag.

Lampe, G. W. H., A Patristic Greek Lexicon (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1961)

Lanchester, John, Whoops! Why Everyone Owes Everyone and No-One Can Pay (London: Penguin, 2010). 'How did we get here? How did we get from an economy in which banks and credit function the way they're supposed to, to this place we're in now, the Reykjavíkisation of the world economy?' (6). 'Only a few months on from that, and Ireland was in the worst economic contraction of any developed country since the Great Depression. Ireland, joked The Economist in February 2008 (or maybe that should be semi-joked), is at risk of being 'Reykjavík-on-Liffey', and it quoted a local witticism: 'What's the difference between Ireland and Iceland? Six months and one letter'. (145).

Lanchester, John, Capital (London: Faber and Faber, 2012)

Lang, James T., ‘Sigurd and Weland in Pre-Conquest Carving from Northern England’, The Yorkshire Archaeological Journal, 48 (1976), 83–94. ‘The carving upon which the Sigurd scene intrudes at Nunburnholme depicts a cleric holding a chalice and the host, and it is tempting to see the juxtaposition as deliberate. The Sigurd-Regin repast was evilly inspired yet brought enlightenment to the hero at the cost of his foster-father’s death, whereas the Eucharist represented above is the Christian repast, dependent on the Passion and offering more far-reaching rewards than Sigurd’s. It would be natural to bestow a diabolical head upon Regin in a design which conveyed the triumph og Christianity over a pagan symbol. This type of juxtaposition was long established as it occurs on the front of the Franks Casket, where Boðvild’s[sic] visit to Weland, with its implications of seduction and pregnancy, is portryed alongside the Magi and the Virgin and Child’ [cites Davidson 1969, 219]. ‘The common factor of the Sigurd and Weland cycles in the smith. Ninety years ago Bishop Browne saw the iconographical overlap between Weland and Regin, and the sculpture from Yorkshire now substantiates his speculation. Smiths have a long history in illustrative carving and may have associations with death … Perhaps the illustrative sculpture of Northern England during the Viking Age was perpetuating a long tradition of symbolism as well as reflecting the current taste for the heroic’ (94). Plate 18 of Ferrell 1982 is photo by Lang of ‘Sculptured stone cross-shaft with figure in distinctive “mythological” dress; St Peter’s, Kirkgate, Leeds, West Yorkshire, England’, has Weland piccy at foot corresponding to Lang 1976, 92 (fig. 7a).

Lang, James, York and Eastern Yorkshire, Corpus of Anglo-Saxon Stone Sculpture, 3 (Oxford, 1991). Weland pp. 37, 71–72, 202–3.

Lang, James, ‘The Imagery of the Franks Casket: Another Approach’, in Northumbria’s Golden Age, ed. by Jane Hawkes and Susan Mills (Stroud, 1999), pp. 247-55. Cites Bruce-Mitford 1969, 16, that Ægil’s fortress affair ‘strongly resembles the plan of the Tabernacle in the Codex Amiatinus’ (248). Sees front tied to top with Egil, top to back with tabernacle; all relating to the dangers of ‘revenge and its wider consequences after a major injustice’ (249, cf. 248-9). Weland and Titus correspond and juxtaposed. Weland offering cup just like figure under throne in the Dom scene on the back: Weland judging Niðhad as Titus’s judge Fronto judges defeated Jerusalem? (250-51). Rom. and Rem exiles, like the jews on the back and like Weland; cf. also Niðhad’s two sons (251). Weland as virtually divine revenge figure (252). Sees r/h panel in the context of psalm 30, Increpa feras arundis ‘Rebuke the beasts that dwell among the reeds’) (252). Hmm. NB figure under judge’s trone on back panel hold staff/chair-leg as well as cup: cf. figure by the central mound on r/h panel?

*Langenhove, G. van (ed.), Aldhelm’s De Lavdibvs Virginitatis with Latin and Old English Glosses. Manuscript 1650 of the Royal Library in Brussels, Rijksuniversiteit te Gent, Werken uitgegeven door de Faculteit van de Wijsbegeerte en Letteren, Extra Serie, 2 (Bruges, 1941) [899.a.644 WEST ROOM; H F. 56 – 789 Yliopiston kirjasto, käyttö vain erikoislukusalissa’]

Langenhove, G. van (ed.). 1941. Aldhelm’s De laudibus virginitatis with Latin and Old English Glosses. Manuscript 1650 of the Royal Library in Brussels, Rijksuniversiteit te Gent, Werken uitgegeven door de Faculteit van de Wijsbegeerte en Letteren, Extra Serie, 2 (Bruges: Saint Catherine Press)

Langeslag, Paul Sander, “Trǫll and Ethnicity in Egils saga.” Á austrvega: Saga and East Scandinavia. Preprint Papers of the 14th International Saga Conference, Uppsala, 9th–15th August 2009. Eds. Agneta Ney, Henrik Williams, and Fredrik Charpentier Ljungqvist. Institutionen för humaniora och samhällsvetenskaps skriftserie 14. Gävle: Gävle UP, 2009. 2.560–7 http://www.saga.nordiska.uu.se/preprint/

Langland, William, The Vision of Piers Plowman: A Critical Edition of the B-Text based on Trinity College Cambridge MS B.15.17, ed,. by A. V. C. Schmidt, 2nd edn (London: Everyman, 1995).

Lansing, Tereza. 2011. Post-medieval production, dissemination and reception of "Hrólfs saga kraka." Unpublished Ph.D. thesis, University of Copenhagen.

Lapidge, Michael, ‘The Hermeneutic Style in Tenth-Century Anglo-Latin Literature’, Anglo-Lat lit. 105–49, orig. 1975 141–42 eds a Latin catalogue poem of medical terms, might be useful. It wasn’t.

Lapidge, Michael and Michael Herren, Aldhelm: The Prose Works (Cambridge, 1979). ‘Virgins of Christ and raw recruits of the Church must therefore fight with muscular energy against those seven wild [p. 240] beasts of the virulent vices, who with rabid molars and venemous bicuspids strive to mangle violently whoever is unarmed and despoiled of the breastplate of virginity and stripped of the shield of modesty; and they must struggle zealously with the arrows of spiritual armament and the iron-tipped spears of the virtues as if against the most ferocious armies of barbarians, who do not desist from battering repeatedly the shield-wall of the young soldiers of Christ with the catapult of perverse deceit. In no way let use sloppily offer to these savage enemies the backs of our shoulder-blades in place of shield-bosses, after the fashion of timid soldiers effeminately fearing the horrow of war and the battle calls of the trumpeter!’ (68; ch. XI). Interesting re construction of barbarians? 73 vs married life and how married women adorn themselves ‘to be the kindling of marital wantonness’ (73, ehwald p. 246; ch. XVII)

XXV CLEMENT ‘Therefore if he, not yet regenerated (by baptism), so greatly esteemed and took possession of what was most excellent among all the grades of the virtues and most difficult for the nature of mortals, how much more is it appropriate to believe that, after he had acepted the principles of the faith and had spurned the religion of the gentiles, he conserved (this virtue) more fully and perfectly when he followed Peter throuhg the provinces showing the seeds of the divine Word and cultivating the shoots of the gospel-vine in the ditches of the believing, and destroying at the root the lethal wild vines of Simoniacal necromancy!’ (82, ehwald 257). 83 ‘She shall be yours and shall not die except at the end of the world.’ Admittedly re Rome, not Arwen.

XXVI re Martin ‘For he raised from death’s door back to the light of life the corpse of a catechumen whom the grim ferocity of Fortune, as they say, and the violent cruelty of the Fates (who) spare no one, or rather the pitilessness of chill death, had suddenly overcome, while he was still bereft of the sacrament of regenerating grace’ ‘Through the superior grace of his merits he made the deceitful tricks [p. 262] of that rascal Anatolius fall completely apart and vanish into thin air like a ridiculous phantom—deceits which the fraudulent company of his spiteful rivals, armed with a thousand devices for doing evil, was audaciously pushing forward under the demonstrable sham of a cloak of deceit’ (85, ehwald 261)

XXVIII starts with Anthony and doesn’t mention temptation scenes (tho’ a short old entry I admit), p. 87. Paul too 87–88—does he get temptation? XXIX, 88–89 re Hilarion, with 2 monster-fighting things.

XXXXbla, that’s as far as I’ve gotXXXX

Lapidge, Michael, ‘An Isidorian Epitome from Early Anglo-Saxon England’, in Anglo-Latin Literature 600–899 (London: XXXX, 1996), pp. 183–223, reprinted from Romanobarbarica, 10 (1988–89), 443–83. Isodore etym. ‘Certainly it was known at a very [184] early stage, arguably by the middle of the seventh century, in the British Isles: we have evidence of its use by various seventh-century Hiberno-Latin authors in Ireland’ (183–84). But no early MSS, except probably mid-C7 Irish script fragment at St Gallen (184); A-S set miniscule fragment c. 800 (184–85). Epitome is Paris, Bibliothèque Nationale, lat. 1750, ff. 140–52. Palaeog Northern France s. viii/ix. (185). Contents 185–86. Epitome itself ff. 146v–52r. Lapidge calls the Isidore epitome De diuersis rebus cos it says that at the end. Mistkaes and abbreviations show A-S minuscule exemplar (187–188). 8 OE glosses; check if these are in Cleo:

Stragulum id<est> stren

Torques . halsberigold

Murenulae . cyniuiddan

Priuignus. . . id est steopsunu

Stirio . hrooc

Pice . ciae

Merula . oslae

Bufo . uuf

(ed. 188). Reckons they’re C7/8 on ling. ev, ang and probably not Northhumbrian (due to presence of final nasals) 188–89. Actually goes for ‘perhaps close to or not long after c. 700’ (189), which is too precise. Later takes this as read (e.g. 190 ‘That a manuscript of the Eymologiae had been glossed in this way in England by c. 700 is interesting enough in itself’ (190).) But does show that merula . oslae and bufo . uuf are in Ép-Erf, oslae (‘ouzel’) here and EE only in OE and lemmata otherwise no source in EE (190) and this is proper ev. for pre EE date. Some clever stuff in epitome (193–95). NB that he adds information re Isidore’s definition of trabea from Suetonius quote in Servius’s Commentarius in Vergilii Aeneida (194–95) which also known in fragmentary early C8 text in Boniface’s circle and taken to the continent (195). Check this on nymphae etc. Disses follies 196–97. Crappy MS, with stuff all out of order (presumaby copied off loose ff. or something) 197–199. transcribed/ed. 199–223. We seem to have book 8 from the middle on (pp. 199–201), which seems to include the bit where nymphae should be, but they’re not there, so unlikely that this epitome underlies ælfen glosses. Check whether any of the glosses are Cleo.

Lapidge, Michael, ‘Old English Glossography: The Latin Context’, in Anglo-Latin Literature 600–899 (London, 1996), pp. 169–81, reprinted from Anglo-Saxon Glossography: Papers Read at the International Conference, Brussels, 8 and 9 September 1986, ed. by R. Derolez (Brussels, 1992), pp. 45–57. Moans re selectivity in editing glosses—omit context of latin giving only lemmata, omit non-OE glosses (170-1). Not otherwise very useful unfortunately.

Lapidge, Michael, ‘The Study of Latin Texts in Late Anglo-Saxon England [1]: The Evidence of Latin Glosses’, in Latin and the Vernacular Languages in Early Medieval Britain, ed. by Nicholas Brooks (Leicester, 1982), pp. 99-140.

Lapidge, Michael, ‘Beowulf, Aldhelm, the Liber monstrorum and Wessex’, Studi Medievali, 3rd series, 23 (1982), 151–92

Lapidge, Michael and James L. Rosier (trans.), Aldhelm: The Poetic Works (Cambridge: 1985). Source of D8.3 Quinn 1956, 69-219, Carmen de Virginitiate: ‘I do not seek verses and poetic measures from the rustic Muses, nor do I seek metrical songs from the Castalian nymphs who, they say, guard the lofty summit of Helicon; nor do I ask that Phoebus, whom his mother Latona bore on Delos, grant me a tongue, expressive in utterance; never do I deign to speak by means of unutterable verses, as the clear-sounding poet [i.e. Vergil] is one said to have proclaimed: // Open Helicon now, goddesses, and direct my song! [Aen. VII.641]. // Rather, I shall strive with prayers to move the Thunderer, [104] Who grants us the divine declaration of the gentle Word…’ (103-4; pp. 353-4 in ed.).

Pref: ‘I do not declaim my verses in the direction of the Castalian nymphs, nor has any swarm (of bees) spread nectar in my mouth; by the same token I do not traverse the summits of Apollo, nor do I prostrate myself on Parnassus, nor am I entranced by any poetic vision’ (70; ehwald 97).

XCV. enigma of Scylla (91, ehwald 142): Look, the Fates gave me the name of dogs—thus does the language of the Greeks render it in words—ever since the incantations of dread Circe, who stained the waters of the flowing fountain with her words, deceived me. Weaving words, the cruel witch deprived me of thighs together with shins, and calves together with knees [5]. Terrified mariners relate that, as they impel their ships with oars and cleave the sea, sweeping along the mighty waves while the tempest rages, where the broad blade of the oar runs through the water [10], they hear from afar the howling offspring that barks about my loins. Thus the daughter of Titan [scil. Circe] once tricked me, so that I should live as an exile—deservedly—in the salt waves’ (91). Note 85, p. 254, ‘It is difficult to know where Aldhelm found the story, if not in Ovid: no other Latin source earlier than Aldhelm contains precisely the information which he includes’ (254), also spots some verbal reminiscences on the same note and page. Where Aldhelm get’s Gk skylax ‘puppy’, Lapidge doesn’t know (254).

Enigma on Woody Nightshade (no. CXVIII)—as identified by Cameron: ‘A purple flower, I grow in the fields with shaggy foliage. I am very similar to an oyster: thus with reddened dye of scarlet a purplish blood oozes by drops from my branches. I do not wish to snatch away the spoils of life from him who eats me, nor do my gentle poisons deprive him utterly of reason. Nevertheless a certain touch of insanity torments him as, mad with dizziness, he whirls his limbs in a circle’ (93, Ehwald 144).

Michael Lapidge, ‘Beowulf and the Psychology of Terror’, in Heroic Poetry in the Anglo-Saxon Period: Studies in Honor of Jess B. Bessinger, Jr., ed. by Helen Damico and John Leyerle, Studies in Medieval Culture, 32 (Kalamazoo, MI: Medieval Institute Publications, 1993), pp. 373–402.

Lapidge, Michael, ‘The School of Theodore and Hadrian’, in Anglo-Latin Literature 600–899 (London, 1996), pp. 141–68, repr. from Anglo-Saxon England, 15 (1986), 45–72. Reckons iudicia Theodori ‘certainly by Theodore’ (48) with refs, but their relevance not self-evident.

pp. 55-58, 67-72. re Leiden gloss. A Greek litany is found as a C10 English addition to the continental psalter, BL Cotton Galba A. xviii, but ‘its presence in England as early as the second half of the eighth century is guaranteed by the fact that a Latin translation of it is found in BL Royal 2. A. XX (?Worcester, s. viii2), 26e–v’ (49, n. 29, citing Edmund Bishop, Liturgica Historica (Oxford, 1918), pp. 137–48). ‘Before turning to these glossaries, we should bear in mind the various stages in the compilation of a glossary: first, various (perhaps random) interpretations of interpretamenta are copied into a manuscript above or alongside particular difficult words (or: lemmata); secondly, the various lemmata and their accompanying [54] interpretamenta are collected and copied out separately in the order in which they occur in the text (we refer to these as glossae collectae); thirdly, the various glossae collectae are sorted into roughly alphabetical order, with all items beginning with same letter being grouped together (a-order); finally, the entries under each letter are re-sorted into more precise alphabetical order, taking accound of the first two letters of each lemma (ab-order). A surviving glossary may (and usually does) include materials or batches of words treated in any of these ways, though it will be obvious that when one is trying to identify the text on which the glosses were based, glossae collectae offer the clearest evidence. It is also obvious that, of all texts, glossaries are the most prone to scribal interference: to selective copying, interpolation, omission, and so on’ (54).

Leiden glossary c. 800 at St Gallen, Leiden, Bibliotheek der Rijksuniversiteit, Voss. lat. Q. 69, 20r–36r), citing de Meyier 1975 (54). Origins of batches listed 54-55. No etymologiae, but other Isidore stuff. Must adte c. 650 x 800 then (55). Reckons Leiden shares a source with the (then) unprinted Paris Bibliothèque Nationale lat. 2685, s. ix 2nd half; c. 2 thirds of 2685 entries identical with Leiden; each has some that the other doesn’t, so presumably each abbreviating. But OE glosses seem to be printed by Meritt `1945, 33-5, 40-2, 45, 48, 53 (56, n. 61) (56). But over 25 other fairly closely related MSS., provisional list in Appendix, pp. 68-72; more distantly related ones, incl. Ép-Erf-Corp and Cleo I-II, omitted. Aldhelm shows knowledge of most of the Leiden texts, some quite rare. Must have been available at Canterbury (due to Corpus Glossary) and before c. 700 as ‘the Epinal [sic] manuscript (now Epinal [sic] Bibliothèque municipale 72) has recently been redated to c. 700 on palaeographical grounds’ [citing Brown 1982]. ‘A number of manuscripts of the Leiden family independently assign various explanations of individual words by name to Theodore or Hadrian’, incl. Leiden s.v. cynaris (58, see 58–9). Re Leiden, then, are pp. 54-59.

Lapidge, Michael, ‘The Study of Greek at the School of Canterbury in the Seventh Century’, in Anglo-Latin Literature 600–899 (London 1996), pp. 123–39, reprinted from The Sacred Nectar of the Greeks: The Study of Greek in the West in the Early Middle Ages, ed. by Michael Herren (London, 1988), 169–94.

Lapidge, Michael and Peter S. Baker Byrhtferth’s Enchiridion, Early English Text Society, s.s. 15 (Oxford, 1995). ‘No Anglo-Saxon author appears to have studied Aldhelm more intently than B did. His Latin writings … are permeated with Aldhelmian diction [refs]. The Latin portions of E[nchiridion], particularly iv.i, show similar debts to Aldhelm, but such debts are to be found even in the Old English portions of the work, as, for example, when B uses the simile of the pure bee (iii. i. 119-20) or refers to the Sirens and Castalian nymphs who dwell on Mount Helicon (ii. i. 205-14), in a passage in which B combines classical allusions drawn from Aldhelm’s prose De Virginitate (c. xl) and his Car[lxxxiv]men de Virginitate (CdV 24-7). B’s dependence on Aldhelm in this last example was so close that he not only adopted Aldhelm’s diction but also incorporated into his Old English prse the glosses which accompanied Aldhelm’s text in the manuscript he was using. The manuscript in question, which apparently contained both the prose and verse versions of Aldhelm’s work, does not happen to survive, but it is interesting to note that the very same manuscript apparently furnished the lemmata and glosses for the Aldhelmian glossary now in London, BL, Cotton Cleopatra A. iii fols. 92-117 (the so-called “Third Cleopatra Glossary”). Cotton Cleopatra A.iii is of mid-tenth-century date (its script is Anglo-Saxon Square miniscule of Phase II) and of possible—but not certain—origin at St Augustine’s, Canterbury [Dumville, ASE 23, 1994, 137-9]. On chronological grounds, therefore, it could have been consulted by B; but the greater likelihood is that B was using the manuscript of Aldhelm from which the “Third Cleopatra Glossary” was compiled’ (lxxxiii-lxxxiv).

‘Presumably by analogy with strong nouns, the weak gp. ending sometimes appears as –a: nama 2×; prica 3×; steorra 1×. By analogy with other parts of the weak paradigm the ending twice appears as –an: timan 1×; witan 1×.’ (xcviii). Hoad 1994 misses these.

Lapidge, Michael, Anglo-Latin Literature 600-899 (London, 1996). 420, n. 48 lists Leiden, Bibliotheek der Rijksuniversiteitm Voss. Q. 106 as ‘?Fleury, s. ix/x’ and as an unnoticed example of the 2nd recension of Aldhelm’s Enigmata.

Lapidge, Michael, ‘The Archetype of Beowulf’, Anglo-Saxon England, 29 (2000), 5–41.

Lapidge, Michael, ‘Versifying the Bible in the Middle Ages’, in The Text in the Community: Essays on Medieval Works, Manuscripts, Authors, and Readers, ed. by Jill Mann and Maura Nolan (Notre Dame, Indiana: University of Notre Dame Press, 2006), pp. 11–40. Main point of interest to me is that he argues that the mode of trnslation of the Exodus poet was—consistently with a C19 argument but contrary to later and msplaced scepticism—influenced by Latin versifiers of the Bible like Arator.

Lapidge, Michael, ‘The Career of Aldhelm’, Anglo-Saxon England, 36 (2007), 15–69

Lane, Edward William, An Arabic-English Lexicon, vols 6-8 ed. by Stanley Lane-Poole, 8 vols (London: Williams and Norgate, 1863-93).

*Lane, G. S., ‘The Germano-Celtic Vocabulary’, Language, 9 (1933), 244–64.

Larner, Christina, Enemies of God: The Witch-Hunt in Scotland (Oxford: Blackwell, 1981)

Larrington, Carolyne (trans.), The Poetic Edda (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1999)

Larrington, Carolyne, ‘ “What Does Woman Want?” Mær and Munr in Skírnismál’, Álvíssmál, 1 (1992), 3–16. P592.c.76 NF6 Reckons Bergen rune-stave is C13. Check. NBs re ergi of she-wolf on stave trad. that she-wolf mates only with lowliest male in the pack (5 n. 2), citing Manciples tale sec. 9, 183-6 and a book. 7 ff. gets into the charm Munr appears 8 times in the poem. Nice list of what women don’t want on the basis of the poem (7). 8-9 re threat of being stared at; theory of gaze, men as gazing subjects, women as gazed at objects etc. Cf. Þórhildr skáldkona, Þryð (11-12).

Larrington, Carolyne, ‘The Fairy Mistress in Medieval Literary Fantasy’, in Writing and Fantasy, ed. by Ceri Sullivan and Barbara White (London: Longman, 1999), pp. 32–47. Seems to argue explicitly for celtic origins. RR 9006.c.7392 Yeah, passim but especially 35–36 with entry to England via arthuriana etc.

Larrington, Carolyne, ‘Vafþrúnismál and Grímnismál: Cosmic History, Cosmic Geography’, in The Poetic Edda: Essays on Old Norse Mythology, ed. by Paul Acker and Carolyne Larrington (New York: Routledge, 2002), pp. 59–77.

Larrington, Carolyne, and Peter Robinson (eds), `Sólarljóð', in Poetry on Christian Subjects, ed. by Margaret Clunies Ross, Skaldic Poetry of the Scandinavian Middle Ages, 7, 2 vols (Turnhout: Brepols, 2007), i, 287-357

Larrington, Carolyne, `Awkward Adolescents: Male Maturation in Norse Literature', in Youth and Age in the Medieval North, ed. by Shannon Lewis-Simpson, XXXXX (Leiden: Brill, 2008), pp. 145-60, accessed from http://oxford.academia.edu/CarolyneLarrington/Papers

Larsson, Inger, 'The Role of the Swedish Lawman in the Spread of Lay Literacy', in Along the Oral-Written Continuum: Types of Texts, Relations and the Implications, ed. by Slavica Ranković, Leidulf Melve, and Else Mundal, Utrecht Studies in Medieval Literacy, 20 (Turnhout: Brepols, 2010), pp. 411-27.

Laskaya, Anne, Chaucer’s Approach to Gender in ‘The Canterbury Tales’, Chaucer Studies, 23 (Cambridge, 1995). ‘The fairy world and flux in the Wife of Bath’s tale’. Hmm, not that I’ve found so far—does this mean there’s a shortage of good stuff here? Interesting intro, pro-feminist as opposed to gender, by sensibly arguing that we have to accept Chaucer as a misogynistic writer of his time etc. and stop apologising for him. Cf. Blamires. Respec’. ‘Clearly, Chaucer’s text is homosocial—written by a man, primarily about men, and primarily for men. Although we could explore ways Chaucer “writes like a woman” (to borrow from Jonathan Culler), I aim to examine the text assuming that Chaucer (like Culler) lived, thought, and wrote from within a male body socialized in, even if resisting, particular masculinities. Although scholars often ignore or mute this rhetorical/sexual context, it needs to be acknowledged and explored since criticism and canon-formation are so political in nature’ (4).

*Ch. 2

Ch. 7 ‘Spirituality and competition’. ‘It is striking that of the major characters in the Canterbury narratives who can claim to imitate Christ, the majority are women, not men. If the essential features of Christ’s life include effecting the spiritual transformation of others through words and works, advocating mercy rather than revenge, enduring severe suffering in the face of hostile temporal power and authority, and maintaining a steadfast faith in God and a purity of self, surely Custance, Griselde, Dame Prudence, and preeminently St Cecile exemplify many of these qualities … Although the Prioress’s little clerk exhibits faith and suffering and although he serves as the vessel for divine miracle, at seven years, he is an infantile representative of innocent Christian faith. Notably, he is surrounded and loved by three women: the Prioress, his mother, and the Virgin Mary. For the most part, male characters who appear within the pilgrim-narrator’s tales do not exemplify Christ-like virtues’ (118). So e.g.s. ‘When the pilgrims tell tales of men who are, by profession, spiritual representatives, they revel in satire rather than panegyric’ (118). e.g.s 119 & refs.

Nastiness of Summoner and Friar, ther competition with each other and rapacity, hunting imagery119-24. Harry Bailly as trying to restrain them but eventualy giving up and letting them rip. Wyclif and opposition to church etc.—interesting re how Chaucer fits in herewith 124-6. ‘Whatver Chaucer may have thought of the institutional legitimacy of the Church, he shared a world where voics like Bromyard’s and Wyclif’s condemned ecclesiastical abuses and raised challenges to the Church’s power. But if Chaucer’s text rejects the abuses of the clergy, it does not reject the ideal of Christian masculinity nor does it reject responsible ministry. His pointed antifraternal satire only condemns deviation from the “wey” of Christ’ (126). Plowman and Parson as fitting the ideal 126-35. ‘Chaucer’s Plowman is obviously literarily related to Langland’s Piers Plowman, a common labourer who, within William’s dream, merges into christ. However, Langland’s Plowman suffers, endures oppression, and because of this, speaks out against the abuses of the Age, while Chaucer gives usan ideal portrait of a happy farmer, a plowman whose voice is never heard on the pilgrimage. His silence in the Tales is noteworthy, since class sturggles of the late fourteenth century were often articulated in texts featuring a plowman’ (127, with refs). Discusses Howard seeing frequent absence of parson as showing his neglect (128), but argues that’s a bit unfair (129-30)—‘we could easily see in his silence an indication of wisdom rather than neglect’ (129). H’ever, ‘Instead of continuing the game, “he buckles up Harry’s proverbial bag of fictions”, claims Laura Kendrick, “and, with the definitive closure of his sermon, Chaucer’s Parson re-establishes order and authority” (at least, from a traditional Christian perspective)’ (131, citing Kendrick 1988, 129). Parson down on wrath especially (132). Critical response to role of parsosn’s bit as closure—not happy with it (133-4). But accept it’s a good way of closing the stories. Lask takes it further to see it within frame as well as without, in which case, it wins—‘Its reflexivity strikes a competitive stance and wins authority over the entire text. From this perspective, the Parson’s Tale “wins” the game’ (134).

‘Steeped in Christian culture, the Parson’s Tale quite typically emphasizrs masculine divinity and masculine exemplars. A glance at a Concordance listing of the word “seinte” in the Tale reveals that 17 male saints are names 96 times, whereas only 2 female saints are mentioned 5 times … In fact, the Tales, throughout, are filled with reverent references to masculine divinity; the very occasion for the narrative rests on a spiritual quest to seek reward and blessing from St Thomas à Becket ‘that hem hath holpen whan that they were weeke’ (18) … The point is, however, that whereas Chaucer could articulate challenges to the gender discourse of his culture un other parts of his Tales, he does not repeat those challenges here in the final tale; instead, the Parson’s sermon attempts to stabilize gender. Chaucer’s Parson-narrator discusses divinity in almost exclusively masculine terms, and, for him, gneder issues and differences reside in the realm of governance and in the realm of the body’ (135). men as superior, should govern women, women closer to the body than men (135). ‘…we hear the term “man” used both as a universal and as a gender-specific term term; “woman”, typically, is only gender-specific’ (135). New concern with nakedness after Fall=concern with difference. ‘In other words, awareness of difference is a feature of sinfulness. And since the account [the Parson’s, I think] is grounded in a masculine perspective, a peculiar syllogism emerges: difference itself becomes sinfulness; Eve is different; ergo, Eve is sinful. Adam sins, of course, but he sins … because Eve seduced him’ (136). Historical alienation of women from Church 137-8.

Ch. 9 ‘ “Female” Narrators and Chaucer’s Masquerade: The Second Nun, the Prioress, and the Wife of Bath’. Discusses 2nd nun’s tale. I note: themes of woman as able to see the supernatural (angel) as man can’t; also of death on taking virginity (cf. chevalier a l’epee). Re 141-60 (Cecile turning down husband’s advances on wedding night), ‘In this passage, the female narrator “reads” virginity as equivalent to autonomy and power, a reading quite different from the male narrators’ interpretations of virginity found sprinkled throughout the Canterbury Tales, and this stems partly from the Second Nun’s narrative location within the genre of the Saint’s Life, a genre not embraced fully by any other narrators’ (168). Hmm, why and how do they not embrace it? NBs that cecile protects her virginity with her own words, whereas Man of Law’s account of rape of Custance has C powerless, and Mary save her (ll.915-24). Woman’s body as liability to men but locus of power to women; male narrators portray the lust of men and the trouble caused when this is foiled, but 2nd nun has man give in when presented with faith etc. (169). While this might be interesting re women’s rewriting of power etc., it seems to me to be what gives the 2nd nun’s tale its silly fairy-tale character. ‘Where the Physician never questioned the power of men over (especially women’s) life and death, the Second Nun laughs at such pretenses. From her Christian perspective, life is so transitory that men’s secular power is hardly worth much anyway; she believes that the most potent power over eternal life or eternal death lies with a divine power’ (170)—ah, Xianity empowering women (if under command of male god; and resulting in their deaths… hmm…).

‘Where so many other tales have caused “greet confusioun”, the Second Nun’s does not, at least not from the Christian vantage point which informs the tale. The prologuem plot, action, dialogue and narrative are never in conflict. Although ambivalence is a common feature of the other tales, it is not a feature of the Second Nun’s Tale. Recall for a moment the confusion in the Physician’s Tale when the Physician-narrator condemns Apius but not Virginius, when he refrains from criticizing a man who insists on murdering his own innocent child but lauds the same man for begging the people to spare the life of Claudius, a man who had conspired to abduct and violate his daughter. Or recall the Clerk’s Tale with its ambivalence toward Walter and its contradictory and confusing multiple endings. Where we have to work hard to account for discrepancies in other narratives, we habe no such task before us in this tale. The tale and its purpose are free of the entanglements and pronounced ambiguities that mark so many of the other tales’ (171). H’ever, hard on women: ‘Where the Knight-narrator can consider Theseus admirable, not because he suffersm but because he learns to rule with mercy; where Geoffrey admires the Parson and [172] the Plowman because they actively lead their communities to greater peace, Griselde, Custance, Virginia, and St Cecile are admired because they obey God and/or men without hesitation and pay a high price. The sacrifice required of these women is self-effacement, either physical (Virginia and St Cecile) or psychological (Griselde and Custance). In this way, St Cecile, ever obedient to God, joins the ranks of the other sacrificed and suffering women represented in the Canterbury Tales’ (171-2). ‘From the vantage point of modern feminist skepticism, St Cecile is praised by a Christian medieval world and by a male text because she sacrifices herself to further belief in God the Father’ (172). 2nd nun barely described even, ‘She is the ideal woman created by absence’ (172). Prioress gets described and whole point of it is to show her worldly concerns (172-5). ‘Both female narrators tell tales which Boitani notes “represent the only examples of religious narrative … and the only two celebrations of human love for God in a fully Christian sense in the Canterbury Tales’ [in Chaucer’s Frame Tales,ed. Fichte 1987, 119]. The Parson’s Tale, which emphasizes human sinfulness, the need for purification, and the necessity of obeying the law—of God the Father—is balanced by these two female narrators who five greatest emphasis to the power of love’ (175). Ah, that pattern again. But the role of masculinity in it is more clear here.

Wife of Bath as incarnation of all that is bad with women (spearheaded in 70s on basis of patristics, apparently) (176-8). But she has an anazingly powerful narrative voice which can hardly be ignored (178) (at least for us…). NB she disses Walter Map. ‘If the Wife of Bath’s Prologue is a challenge to the authority of human perception, particularly men’s perceptions, it also reveals the power of patriarchal ideology to impede perception. On several different levels the tale challenges the culture’s gender prescriptions, and yet, it also reinscribes them. Literally, of course, the narrative exposes and upbraids a rapacious and duplicitous male character (the figure of the rapist-knight) and makes him dependent upon women for his survival … The Wife enjoys making him squirm as the hag plays with him a bit and tests his pledge, but his is only a momentary testing: the Wife-narrator lets him off the hook quite easily. In the Clerk’s Tale, where Walter tested and tortured a completely innocent Griselde, and in the Physician’s Tale, where no remedy could save the pure Virginia, women who were completely innocent were subjected to horrendous “testing”. But in the Wife of Bath’s Tale, the knight being tested deserves to be tested; he is a rapist. The Wife-narrator’s “testing” of the knight is, however, quite mild. Even though the knight is guilty of a crime, the hag nurtures him, assists him, and forgives him. The Wife’s story ultimately embraces and restores the sinner (the knight) to the community (figured in the marriage). If the Wife’s “testing” story is read this way, it advocates forgiveness and mercy, the Christian imperative, and thereby challenges the competitiveness and vengefulness which characterizes humanity in so many of the other pilgrims’ narratives’ (184). But we have to smell a rat when she tells this story which shows so much female complicity with the patriarchy (184)—cf. Crane on the masquerade too.

‘Notably, the tale of the Wife is set in a distant time, in a “land fulfild of fayerye”, in an irrecoverable world “of manye hundred yeres ago” … [185] But this old world, the magic be-witched world of women’s fantasy, has been colonized, she claims, by more modern and male institutions. Is this another “pre-feminist” perception? Is the Wife perhaps lamenting the enculturation of the pre-institutionalized individual or society into an institionalized and “limited” patriarchal, Christian mode of perception that both she and her husbands have struggled with? … These lines [864-77] would seem to offer confirmation. The feminine magical world (possibly an image of Alysoun’s imagination) has been “limited” and stongly influenced by the Church and by institutionalized knowledge and perceptions’ (184-5). Does all this link with Walter?

Wife as into change, where men are all not (i.e., I spose, for them the status quo is good and gets messed up; for the wife the status quo is bad and is rectified) (186). Harry Bailly’s wife still hasn’t got a lookin in all this. Odd. ‘Instead of privileging the hymen and mourning its rupture, the Wife privileges the erotic and the cycles of a woman’s body. For the Wife of Bath, the old hag can recapture her maidenhood and her time. If time is, in any sense, a rapist, the Wife imagines herself disarming and manipulating him for her own pleasure. She can live in a cycle of regeneration. Desiring to begin again and again, she would embrace change. She welcomes another marriage … Rather than connecting the female body with loss and death, as Harry Bailly does [II, 21-31], the Wife equates the female body with new beginnings. And in her imagination, at least, there are no distinct borders between death and rebirthm old age and youth’ (187).

Laskaya, Anna and Eve Salisbury, The Middle English Breton Lays (Kalamazoo, MI: Medieval Institute Publications, 1995); also available at <XXXX> TEAMS ed of Degarre: ‘The problem of incest, whatever form it takes - father/daughter, mother/son, brother/sister - is as old as the human family itself, but as John Boswell notes, the subject was particularly present in public consciousness in the late Middle Ages. Often associated with abandonment, incest became "a considerable preoccupation among medieval authors." [22] Boswell points to Pope Gregory whose legend rendered him "the most celebrated exposed child of the Middle Ages." Like Gregory, and so many other illegitimate medieval children, actual and literary, Degaré is abandoned by his mother, an act a modern audience may judge harshly. [23] But Degaré's mother attempts to make the best of the situation and orchestrates a careful plan. In the infant boy's cradle she includes four pounds of gold, ten of silver, a letter directing the finder to give the babe the tokens at age ten, and special gloves sent for the babe as a gift by her "lemman," his father. Degaré, the illegitimate child, is then spirited away by a maid servant and placed before the door of a hermitage’

Lassen, Annette, ‘Họðr’s Blindness and the Pledging of Óðinn’s Eye: A Study of the Symbolic Value of the Eyes of Họðr, Óðinn and Þórr’, in Old Norse Myths, Literature and Society: Proceedings of the 11th International Saga Conference, 2–7 July 2000, University of Sydney, ed. by Geraldine Barnes and Margaret Clunies Ross (Sydney: Centre for Medieval Studies, University of Sydney, 2000), pp. 220–28. [Also at http://www.arts.usyd.edu.au/departments/medieval/saga.html] Reads Óðinn giving up eye for Mímir’s knowledge or whatever as symboliclly sacrificing part of his masculinity (esp. 224–25). Óðinn’s gaze stops weapons in the air, etc., in Yngl. s. Whereas Þórr has strong eyes in the sources. ‘

Lassen, Annette, ‘Den prosaiske Odin: Fortidssagaerne som mytografi’, in Fornaldarsagornas struktur och ideologi: Handlingar från ett symposium i Uppsala 31.8–2.9 2001, ed. by Ármann Jakobsson, Annette Lassen and Agneta Ney, Nordiska texter och undersökningar, 28 (Uppsala: Uppsala Universitet, Institutionen för nordiska språk, 2003), pp. 205–19.

Lavender, Philip, ‘Oedipus industrius ænigmatum islandicorum: Björn Jónsson á Skarðsá's Riddle Commentary’, Gripla, 26 (2015), 229–73.

Lawrence, Elizabeth Atwood, ‘The Centaur: Its History and Meaning in Human Culture’, Journal of Popular Culture, 27 (1994), 57–68. Pantsilainen.

Laws, Robert, An English-Nyanja Dictionary of the Nyanja Language Spoken in British Central Africa (Edinburgh: Thin, 1894). Not in the BL's integrated catalogue--heavy! 'This contribution towards the knowledge of one of the most useful and, when its dialects are included, one of the most widely-spoken of African languages, is offered to those who are seeking the extension of Christianity and civilisation in that region' (vi).

Lazzari, Loredana, ‘Il Glossario latino-inglese antico nel manoscritto di Anversa e Londra ed il Glossario di Ælfric: dipendenza diretta o derivazione comune?’, Linguistica e filologia, 16 (2003), 159–90.

Comparing the class Glossary in the Antwerpen, Museum Plantin-Moretus M. 16.2 + London, B.L., Add. 32246 manuscript with Ælfric’s Glossary, the essay argues that the anonymous compiler of the Antwerp-London Glossary had access to the same glossarial material exploited by Ælfric.

There are common features of method in both glossaries, which borrow heavily from Isidore’s Etymologiae, but differences are also evident, due to the different use for which the two texts were intended. The compiler of the list now in the Antwerp-London manuscript tends to use rare or exotix lemmata, technical words especially of Greek origin: a lexicon reflecting the ornate insular diction known as “hermeneutic” Latin. A consequence of this particular lexical interest was the hapax-rich Anglo-Saxon vocabulary of the interpretamenta. The probable source-texts of the two glossaries can be related to the Latin teaching and writing tradition, as it was practiced at Æthelwold’s school at Abingdon and Winchester.

Lea, Anne. E., ‘Lleu Wyllt: An Early British Prototype of the LEgend of the Wild Man?’, Journal of Indo-European Studies, 25 (1997), 35–47. Basically reckons that Lleu is an older type form of the Myrddin Wyllt, Suibne Geilt and Lailoken figures.

Leahy, Kevin and Caroline Paterson, ‘New Light on the Viking Presence in Lincolnshire: The Artefactual Evidence’, in Vikings and the Danelaw: Select Papers from the Proceedings of the Thirteenth Viking Congress, Nottingham and York, 21-30 August 1997, ed. by James Graham-Campbell, Richard Hall, Judith Jesch and David N. Parsons (Oxford: Oxbow, 2001), pp. 181–202.

*Lecouteux, ‘Lamia–Holzmuowa–Holzvrowe–Lamîch’, Euphorion, 75 (1981), 366–78

*Lecouteux, ‘Zwerge und Verwandte’, Euphorion, 75 (1981), 366–78

Lecouteux, Claude, ‘Hagazussa-Striga-Hexe’, Études Germaniques, 38 (1983), 161–78. METSÄTALO. Cites Franck 1901 and NB that. Modlang PERS ET 500.

*Lecouteux, Claude, ‘Hagazussa–Striga–Hexe’, Hessissche Blätter für Volks- und Kulturforschung, n. f. 18 (1985), 57–70.

Lecouteux, C., ‘Mara–Ephialtes–Incubus: Le couchemar chez les peuples germaniques’, Études germaniques, 42 (1987a), 1–24. Apparently likes to mix everything up, but handy on vernacular terminology. METSÄTALO. Goes for mors, mortiscognateness 4–5, hmm, but in list of cognates (lots of Slavonic) cfs MorRígan, hohum. 5–9 re Norse, includes mörn which seems quite well-attested e.g. in haustlöng str. 6 and 12 Þjazi er faðir mornar who is presumably Skaði then? (6–7). Þórsdrápa has it too, but Lec’s quotation has no proper ref. Marliðenr in Eyrbygg as mar + pres part of ‘lida (aller, passer’) (7). Fair enough. Assoc with flagð apparently. Also Selkollu þáttr poem by Einar Gilsson, uses (in Lec’s spelling) ohreinn andi, fjandi, djöfull, gygr, tröll, meinvættr, mörn, flagd (8). 9–13 re OE, nothing new. 13–17 re german, might be worth citing, but most refs are 2ndary. Tho’ Berthold von Regensburg ‘(+ 1272)’ says ‘secundum, quod de nocte vadunt et hujusmodi, non debes aliquo modo credere nec hulden nec unhulden, nec pilwiz, nahtvaren, nahtvrouwen, maren, truten, veil quo vadant super hoc vel hoc. Totum sunt demones’ (15), one MS has demones incubi et succubi (15). Citing Schönbach 1900, 18 and 22. 17–19 cites ‘aelfshot’! GOD… Hypothesises that ‘Comme tout personnifi[20]cation ayant eu lieu en des temps reculés, il est probable que l’être incarnant le cauchemar a été “mythologisé”, et a pris place au sein du panthéon germanique. … En effet, l’évolution de Mahr/Mörn correspond à celle de Lamia, avatar de la Litith babylonienne, passée du rang de déesse à celui de croquemitaine’ (19–20), basically from use of mörn. Christ.

*Lecouteaux, Claude, Geschichte der Gespenster und Wiedergänger im Mittelalter (Köln: Böhlau Verlag, 1987b)

Lecouteux, Claude, Les Nains et Elfes au Moyen Age, 2nd ed. (Paris, 1997). Not in UL. Cites Albruna 121 without ref to other MS readings. 68-9 re etymology of elf—takes white type origin without mentioning others. fuller pp 122- re rbhu idea, ‘C’est etymologiquement impossible’ (122). ‘Aurait-on donné de tels noms à des personnes si les elfes avaient été maléfiques? Certainment pas!’ (123) NBs no such for dwarves, and names in Thor-, Freyr-. Might be handy to quote. 123. ‘C’est en nous appuyant sur le sens d’alb-, “blanc” et sur les anciens anthroponymes que nous pouvons affirmer que les elfes furent à l’origine des génies beaux et bons, ce qui les oppose aux nains, ces “tordus” nuisbles’ (123). Freyr, Freyja and Njörðr as all derived from Nerthus, Freyr getting the fertility bit (124); ‘En plaçant les elfes sous l’égide de Freyr, les anciens mythologues … les inscrivent donc dans la sphère de la fertilité et de la fécondité’ (124). Prospect of original trinity of elves, gods and vanir (124-5). Goes with ælfsiden as seiðr, uses as ev. for elves having magic powers. Notes C16/17 charm with albo in, looks cool, no ref! Ger name for mandrake, Alraun, C10 as Albrûna (125). 126 re folklore on this plant.

Ynglinga saga, Ingi has brother called Álfr, etc. (126). Álfablót as synonym for Jól (127)—check out. Assocs with ancestor worship, he claims. Links it with Kormaks saga, but also poem by Sigvat Thorðarson (127). 127-8 re álfrek, not quite sure what he sez but álfrek’s a problem not to forget.

*Fantômes et revenants au Moyen Age (Paris, 1986)

*Fées, sorcières et loups-garou au Moyen Age (Paris, 1992)

Lecouteux, Claude, Les Monstres dans la Pensée médiévale européene: Essai de Presentation, Cultures et Civilisations Médiévales, 10, 2nd ed (Paris, 1995). Looks pretty lightweight and useless—more a survey than analysis. Could be wrong. Has norse stuff and liber monstr.

Lecouteux, Claude, Charms, Conjurations et Bénédictions: Lexique et formules, Essais sur le Moyen Âge, 17 (Paris, 1996). Kind of an encyclopedia of nonsense words from european charms, and other relevant entires. Eles just get an OE ref. ‘En outre, nous ne disposons pas en France d’un ouvrage comparable à ceux de G. Storms pour l’Angleterre anglo-saxonne, de F. Ohrt pour le Danemark, de J. van Haver pour les Pays-Bas et de G. Eis pour l’Allemagne, don’t les collections de charmes sont précieuses et éclairent l’histoire des mentalités’ (10). 123-4 Fr. trans of wið færstice; 125 wið dweorh.

Lecouteaux, Claude, Chasses Fantastiques et Cohortesde la Nuit au Moyen Age (Paris: Imago, 1998). Usual half-baked rubbish. Translation of Munchener Nachtsegen as appendix.

Lee, Alvin A., The Guest-Hall of Eden: Four Essays on the Design of Old English Poetry (London, 1972). First thing he says in book proper: ‘It is seldom taken into account by historians and interpreters of English literature that a singificant number of our earliest poetic texts are “myths” in the precise and commonly accepted sense of the word. They are imaginative fictions in which the main actions are the activities of divine beings, sometimes with direct consequences for the wolrdof men but sometimes also restricted to the confines of heven or hell’ (9).

Lee, Christina, 'Changing Faces: Leprosy in Anglo-Saxon England', in Conversion and Colonization in Anglo-Saxon England, ed. by Catherine E. Karkov and Nicholas Howe, Essays in Anglo-Saxon studies, 2/Medieval and Renaissance Texts and Studies, 12 (Tempe, Ariz. : Arizona Center for Medieval and Renaissance Studies, 2006), pp. 59-81. Lepers apparently organised in special communities/guilds by C12 (59), though these could be well-funded, include non-lepers, and need not have been compulsory (59-60). 'Hitherto there has been no whole-scale examination of Anglo-Saxon attitudes towards disease, although medicine and medical textbooks of the period have been examined in detail. The existence of such books is an indicator that diseased people were cared for in Anglo-Saxon England, but they tell us little about the status or life of the infected person. It is necessary to ask what attitudes towards diseased people are evident from the period, and whether the conversion to Christianity led to any changes in the treatment of the sick' (60). Emphs literary and skeletal evidence for healing in secular society, and also by professional Xians (60-61). 'If diseased people were cared for in monastic foundations, it should be considered that the views of the church had an impact on the attitudes towards the sick and the way in which treatment was offered' (61). Leprosy attested in Britain in a C4 Roman, but the dude wasn't native; not certain hen it comes to the islands--conceivably even with Xianisation (63). Hard to tell, but it seems rare in ASE, unlike C12-13 epidemic (64). 64-69 discusses AS burial examples. 'While it appears that at pagan Anglo-Saxon cemeteries status negates any adverse associations that the disease may have had, the picture is different at post-conversion sites' (67)--and I guess even if we weren't happy with these labels, we could still talk about traditional and innovative burials. Late A-S (C10-11) evidence for the segration of diseased people in burial (67-69). I wonder how burial is organised in Malawi and eMod NW Europe? Leprosy not in A-S law-codes, against a background of rising Continental concern about their moral status (71). App. spreads to Scand from England, appears in laws, but only the most disfigured buried separately (71 n. 53). Some useful refs to someone dissing modern historians seeing A-Ss as primitive 72. 72-75 semantics. Healing of leprosy in SS lives 76--no discussion whether A-S saints get this miracle though--links with lust in Alfred's Pastoral Care and Gregory's writings (76-78). Ælfric keen on leprsoy as a symbol of sin (78-80). 'Not all of Ælfric's depictions of lepers are negative. The tendency of patristic literature to see disease as a punishment for transgression led to the attitude that the leper is equally curses and blessed. Attitudes towards leprosy in many cases mirror those towards disability, which can range from punishment for transgression to a blessing, since it wil keep the sufferer from cardinal sins such as pride' (79). Ends with nice example of C11 Bishop Ælfweard being expelled due to leprosy, seen as punishmnet for relic-theft.

Lee, Peter, `Landsbanki's New Masters Take Control', Euromoney, vol. 33 issue 403 (November 2002), pp. 34--47. 'Does he feel the court cases are still hanging over him? Bjorgolfur Thor says he has never made a secret of the bitter dispute with Ingimar and Lardner, though it is not well known in Iceland. He cites an old Icelandic proverb to the effect that "we're hard-pressed to get into a conflict but pretty feisty once we're dragged into one."'; cf. '- Tekurðu átök eins og þau sem urðu í Straumi-Burðarási nærri þér? // "Já, að sjálfsögðu tek ég þau nærri mér. Ég geri það, - enda óvanur návíginu hér á landi eftir búsetu erlendis nærri hálft mitt líf. En þetta var hins vegar óumflýjanlegt. Ég hef alltaf sagt að ég sé seinþreyttur til vandræða, en harður í horn að taka ef svo ber undir' (MBL 27. ágúst 2006 | Innlendar fréttir | 1724 orð | 3 myndir; Andvökunæturnar orðnar margar; http://mbl.is/greinasafn/grein/1099745/). And cf. 'Þat mun á finnaz,' segir Hildigunnr, 'at Gunnarr er seinþreyttr til vandræða en harðdroe[ligature]gr, ef hann má eigi undan komaz' (NjR1908 133¹⁴ [c1300-1325]; cf. 'Þat mun opt á finnask,' segir Hildigunnr, 'at Gunnarr er seinþreyttr til vandræða, en harðdroe[ligature]gr, ef hann má eigi undan komask'' NjM 149¹³ [c1330-1370], which is the ÍF's text). And cf. Bjarni's Sigurðar saga p. 51.

Lees, Clare A., Tradition and Belief: Religious Writing in Late Anglo-Saxon England, Medieval Cultures, 19 (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1999).

*Lees, Clare A., ‘Engendering Religious Desire: Sex, Knowledge, and Christian Identity in Anglo-Saxon England’, Journal of Medieval and Early Modern Studies, 27 (1997), c. 19. [NF4 P532.c.63]

Lees, Clare A. and Gillian R. Overing, Double Agents: Women and Clerical Culture in Anglo-Saxon England (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2001). Sounds unlikely to be directly relevant—about how we can see clerical authors keeping women down, but prbably worth checking. [SF2 245:2.c.20.266]. Emphs how cultural history so often begins around C12/13, when lots of institutions which we know and recognise get going (marriage, clerical celibacy, universities, urbanism etc.). ‘The medieval world starts to resemble, however precariously, the modern. Although recent work has loosened the hold of this master paradigm on the analysis and writing of medieval history after the Anglo-Saxon period, the period itself remains emphatically pre-historical—at the origin, though not at the beginning. Whether from simple ignorance of this earlier period or the nature of subjectivity and identity, gender, the body, sexuality, representation, and power continue to operate from, or are conditioned by, the premisses of this master paradigm. Cultural history beforee the twelfth century is thus alienated, offering a history different from that of later periods, yet one whose difference goes unrecognized and uncontested’ (3).

de Leeuw van Weenen, Andrea, Alexanders saga: AM 519a 4^o in the Arnamagnæan Collection, Copenhagen, Manuscripta Nordica: Early Nordic Manuscripts in Digital Facsimile, 2 (Copenhagen: Museum Tusculanum Press, 2009). Ok fyr því byrjar oss, þar sem bíðendr eigu byr, en bráðir andróða, at maka þessar þjóðir í várri dvǫl með nokkurri venju, at í tómi taki þǽr tamningu fyrir vanða várrar návistu at niðrlǫgðum þráleik þorperaligs siðferðis ’ (Andrea de Leeuw van Weenen’s normalised edn).

Lefèvre, Yves, L’Elucidarium et les Lucidaires, Bibliothèque des écoles Françaises d’Athènes et de Rome, 180 (Paris, 1954). i, Q. 27 ‘D. – Quando facti sunt angeli? M. – Cum dictum est: “Fiaat lux (Gen., I, 3)” ’; Q28 ‘D. Dixit haec verba Deus? M. – Non; sed per haec verba nobis illorum sublimis natura insinuatur, dum lux vocantur’ Q29 ‘D. – Quae est natural angelica? M. – Spiritualis ignis, ut dicuntur: “Qui facit angelos de flamma ignis (Hebr., I, 7)” ’ (all 366). Q20 D. Creavit per partes? answer included: ‘prima itaque die fecit diem aeternitatis, scilicet spiritualem lucem, et omnem spiritualem creaturem’ (364). Q2 ‘D. – Dicitur quod nemo sciat quid sit Deus et valde absurdam videtur adorare quod nesciamus. Ab ipso ergo exordium sumamus et in primis dic mihi quid sit Deus. M. – Quantum homini licet scire, Deus est substantia spiritualis tam inestimabilis pulchritudinis, tam ineffabilis suavitatis, ut angeli, qui solem septuplo sua vincunt pulchritudine, jugiter desiderent in eum insatiabiliter (cf. I Ep. Petr., I, 12)” ’ (p. 361). My italics; fr version has ‘qui sont purtant eux-mêmes sept fois plus beaux que le soleil’ (104). Cf. ‘at englar es .vii. hlutum ero fegre an sol’ (Helgason 1957 f. 2r).

Q10 ‘D. – Ubi habitat Deus? M. – Quamvis ubique potentialiter, tamen in intellectuali caelo substantialiter.’ Q11 ‘D. – Quid est hoc? M. – Tres caeli dicuntur: unum corporale, quod a nobis videtur; aliud spirituale, quod spirituales substantiae, scilicet angeli, inhabitare creduntur; tertium intellectuale, in quo Trinitas sancta a beatis facie ad faciem contemplatur’ (362). Parallels for svartálfar too?

Lefkowitz, Mary R., ‘Seduction and Rape in Greek Myth’, in Consent and Coercion to Sex and Marriage in Ancient and Medieval Societies, ed. by Angeliki E. Laiou (Washington, D.C., 1993), pp. 17–37. NB only re Gk stuff—roman versions not mentioned. ‘To speak about the “rape” of Europa or Io or other females seduced or abducted by gods gives the wrong impression of what the experience was like for the women involved. In all the stories that have come down to us, the women give their consent before having intercourse with a god. The experience brings them lasting fame, and they do not complain that they were persuded by the gods to have intercourse with them, but rather lament the consequences of that intercourse, a child born in disgrace or abandoned, and separation from their families and friends’ (37). Slightly overstated—consent only ever implicit in her examples. More that they don’t resist. Usually maidens, usually seduced outside the father’s house which is legally important.

Le Goff, Jaques, Medieval Civilisation 400–1500, trans. by Julia Barrow (Oxford, 1988 [1964]) ‘As the great French medievalist Jaques Le Goff has pointed out, no serious historical study of concepts is possible until the semantic field of the object of study has been circumscribed. In historical scholarship, this is done by comparing our own vocabulary with that of the historical society being investigated (Le Goff 1988, 27)’ (Sjöblom 2000, 51).

**Lehmann, Arthur C. and James E. Myers, Magic, Witchcraft, and Religion: An Anthropological Study of the Supernatural (London, 1985) [SW3 1:5.c.95.349; K440 LEH; K590 G5 M- for random thing]

*Lehrer, A. Semantic Fields and LExical Structure (Amsterdam, 1974).

*Leigh, D., ‘Aspects of Early Brooch Design’, in Anglo_Saxon Cemeteries: A Reappraisal, ed. by E. Southworth (1990), 107-24. Seems to argue for man-beast combinations as significant, reflecting correlation of the two. Might be useful re animal elements in names. And Cf. Williams 2001 if so.

*Leinweber, David Walter. ª Witchcraft and Lamiae in `The Golden Ass.’ º Folklore 105 (1994):77± 82.

The second-century Latin novel by Apuleius of North Africa is regarded as the ® nest source of

magic as practised and perceived in late antiquity. Leinweber discusses the development of

beliefs about sorcerers and female vampires (lamiae) in Greek and Roman texts through

Apuleius and shows how they pre® gured modern witchcraft and vampire legends.

Leith, Dick, Fairytales and Therapy: A Critical Overview, Society for Storytelling, Papyrus Series, 1 (London, Daylight Press, 1998). no place actually given. Style? Unfortuanately not actually very useful. Darn. Cites the weird ref ‘Fromm International. (Orig. German ed. 1982)(1995) Foloktales as Therapy (New York: From International. (Orig. German ed. 1986)’—but might be interesting if real.

Lendinara, Patrizia, ‘Il Liber Monstrorum e i glossari anglosassoni’, in L’immaginario nelle letterature germaniche del medioevo, ed. by Adele Cipolla (Milan: FrancoAngeli, 1995), pp. 203–25. Apparently thinks that Lib M influences early glosses. If so, it doesn’t seem to be very convincing, but maybe would work for emphing shared mileu. NB:

‘Lo stesso accostamento del Liber monstorum (De Satyris et Incubonibus I, 46): “Item Satyri et Incubones silvestres homines di[221]cuntur” viene proposto in due diverse sezioni del glossario di Leida: “Satirum: incubum” (XXXVIII, 38) e “Incuba; maerae uel saturus” (XLVII, 81). La voce del glossario di Épinal: “Incuba mera uel satyrus” ([ref]…) si legge, in forma corrotta, in quello di Erfurt: “Incuba merae uel saturnus” ([ref]…), dove satyrus è stato sostituito da Saturnus. Nel glossario Corpus si omette la seconda parte dell’interpretamentum: “Incuba: maere” (I 225). Le tre glosse hanno la stressa origine di quella del glossario di Leida, come dimostra la presenzadella medesima resa in anglosassone, mere “incubo” e ripropongono tutte il binomio “satiri e incubi”, presente nel titolo del capitaolo del Liber monstrorum. // Nella compilazione di Leida, oltre all’accostamento tra incubi e satiri, se legge anche quello tra gli incubi e gli altri esseri di cui al libro di Isaia (13, 21), secondo la traduzione di Girolamo: “et habitabunt ibi strutones et pilosi saltabunt ibi”, passo da cui è tratta la voce del glossario: “Pilosi: incubi monstri; id est menae” (XIII, 24). In quest’ultimo interpretamentum compare nuovamented la definizione di “mostro”, [bollocks, typo?XXXX] mentre la resa in volgare, identica a quelle citate in precedenza, conferma ancora una volta, se ce ne fosse bisogno, l’identificazione operata tra i diversi generi di mostri. Nel frammento di Werden I c’e la glossa: “Pilosi incubi”.’ (220–21).

Lendinara, Patrizia, ‘The Kentish Laws’, in The Anglo-Saxons from the Migration Period to the Eighth Century: An Ethnographic Perspective, ed. by John Hines, Studies in Archaeoethnology, 2 (Woodbridge, 1997), pp. 211–43 (incl. discussion 231–43). Whole lot citable as good guide to the possibilites and complexities of the Kentish laws. Cool.

Lendinara, Patrizia, ‘Anglo-Saxon Glosses and Glossaries: An Introduction’, in Anglo-Saxon Glosses and Glossaries (Aldershot, 1999), pp. 1–26. 22-6 re Cleo gloss, notes that section 1 (A-gloss) draws on section 3 (Aldhelm glosses). ‘From 1st Cl a few glosses found their way into the second glossary of the same manuscript … The material from Isidore, which is similar to that of the Antwerp and London Glossary, occurs at the end of each letter of 1st Cl. Most interesting is the fact that 1st Cl has several overlaps with the third glossary in the same manuscript. [23] The common glosses, which in the 1st Cl are isted in alphabetical order, were selected from the third glossary (or its exemplar) which was still at the stage of glossae collectae’ A-order (22-23). It’s ‘evident that the compiler of 1st Cl modified the entries, introducing changes and additions, always following the same patterns’ (23).

Leonard, Stephen Pax, Language, Society and Identity in Early Iceland, Publications of the Philological Society, 45 (Chichester: Wiley-Blackwell, 2012). A 1376 document composed in the Vatican, which might reflect the perspectives current at the archiepiscopal seat, shows some uncertaintly as to whether a man of Niðarós could even be expected understand a man from Oslo, let alone Bruges, but this concern is surely excessive (DN 7, 313; cf. Leonard 2012, 124–25)

*Leonhardi, Günther, Kleinere angel-sächsische Denkmäler, BASP, 6 (Hamburg, 1905)

* Lerer, S., Literacy and Power in Anglo-Saxon England (London, 1991). May be useful to cite re Sjöblom’s thing re. literacy and cognition—he we have literacy creating communities. 19–21 and 59 look from Magennis 1996 to be useful.

Lerner, Marion, `Images of the North, Icelandic Nature, and a Pioneering Icelandic Nation', in Iceland and Images of the North, ed. by Sumarliði R. Ísleifsson (Québec: Presses de l'Université du Québec, 2011), pp. 229--53.

Lernout, Geert , review of Textual Studies and the Common Reader: Essays on Editing Novels and Novelists, ed. by Alexander Pettit (Athens, GA: University of Georgia Press, 2000), Text, 14 (2002), 381--87 http://www.jstor.org/stable/30228012.

Emily Lethbridge, '''Gísla saga Súrssonar'': Textual Variation, Editorial Constructions, and Critical Interpretations', in ''Creating the Medieval Saga: Versions, Variability, and Editorial Interpretations in Old Norse Saga Literature'', ed. by Judy Quinn and Emily Lethbridge (Odense: University Press of Southern Denmark, 2010), pp. 123--52.

Emily Lethbridge, 'Authors and Anonymity, Texts and Their Contexts: The Case of Eggertsbók', in Modes of Authorship in the Middle Ages, ed. by Slavica Rankovič, Papers in Medieval Studies, 22 (Turnhout: Brepols, 2012), pp. 343--64. 'Of all of these interrogatives, “by whom” is in many ways the most imme- diate: if a single individual can be directly implicated in the conscious creation of a text, this figure (together with any known biographical details pertaining to their life) becomes one fixed point from which the mapping out of an unfa- miliar and vanished cultural landscape may proceed' (343).

Levack, Brian P., ‘The Great Scottish Witch Hunt of 1661–1662’, Journal of British Studies, 20 (1980), 90–108.

Levack, Brian P. “The Decline and End of Scottish Witch-Hunting.” In Goodare 2002, 166–81.

Levison, Wilhelm, England and the Continent in the Eighth Century (Oxford, 1946)

Lévi-Strauss, Claude, ‘Structural Analysis in Linguistics and in Anthropology’, in Structural Anthropology, trans. by Claire Jacobson and others, 2 vols (London: Allen Lane, 1968–77), i pp. 31–54; originally published as ‘L’Analyse structurale en linguistique et en anthropologie’, Word: Journal of the Linguistic Circle of New York, 1 (1945), 1–21. A

Lévi-Strauss, Claude, ‘The Sorcerer and His Magic’, in Structural Anthropology, trans. by Claire Jacobson and others, 2 vols (London: Allen Lane, 1968–77), i pp. 167–85; originally published as ‘Le Sorcier et sa magie’, Les Temps Modernes, 41 (1949), 3–24. B

Lévi-Strauss, Claude, ‘Linguistics and Anthropology’, in Structural Anthropology, trans. by Claire Jacobson and others, 2 vols (London: Allen Lane, 1968–77), i pp. 67–80; repr. from Supplement to International Journal of American Linguistics, 19 (1953), XXXX. C

Levón, Kaarlo, Tutkimuksia loitsurunojen alalla : verensulkusanat ja raudan sanat / kirjoittanut Kaarlo Levón. [Tampereella] : [Kaarlo Levón], 1904 (Aamulehden kp.), https://books.google.co.uk/books?id=18MsAQAAMAAJ. 'Edellä ollut tutkimuksemme raudan sanoista on osottanut, etteivät ne ole kuten verensulkusanat muodostuneet vastaavista germaanilais-katolisista loitsuluvuista, vaan ovat kokoonpantuja erilaisista aineksista. Niiden ilmaantuminen on hyvin ymmärrettävissä. Sillä luonnollistahan on, että suomalaisen rikas mielikuvitus ryhtyi verenvuotoa ehkäistessä sepittämään lukuja raudastakin, josta tehdyt aseet verenvuodon tavallisesti aikaan saivat. Ymmärrettävää on myöskin, että tällaiset sanat monasti yhtyivät verensulkusanoihin, koska ne olivat syntyneet aivan samaa tarvetta palvelemaan. // Sen johdosta, mitä raudan sanain omintakeisuudesta vasta sanottiin, voisi arvella, että niissä ilmenisi muinaista pakanallista käsitystä. Näin ei kuitenkaan ole asian laita. Sillä, kuten edellä on nähty, ovat ne seikat, jotka ensi näkemältä tuntuvat pakanallisuuteen viittaavan, osottautuneet joko mielikuvituksen keksimiksi taikka muista runoista tulleiksi koristeiksi. Näitä ovat sellaiset raudan puhuttelusanat kuin mies Kaleva, vuolahainen, vuolahaisen poika, vuolahattaren tekemä, raudan syntyluvuissa esiintyvät luonnottaret, kauriettaret, virottaret, väinäättäret y. m., eräät säkeet raudan valanvannomisjutussa ja [277] pahan palokesän jutussa y. m. sekä Ilmarisen raudantakomisjuttu. // Muut ainekset, joita raudan sanain kokoonpanossa tavataan, ovat ilmeisesti kristillisperäisiä. Sellaisia ovat nuhdeluvuissa raudan puhuttelusanat Jeesuksen sisaren poika, Jeesus Taavetin poika, raudan makaaminen Neitsyt Maarian maitona, raudan juokseminen jokena, jossa huorat huuhto huntujansa, sekä vihdoin kuvaus raudan haavottamisesta ja valan vannomisesta. Syntyluvuissa ovat sellaisia kuvaukset Neitsyt Maariasta rautamaidon lypsäjänä, Tubalkainista raudan tekijänä, Jeesuksesta ja Neitsyt Maariasta raudan karkaisuaineiden tutkijoina. Onpa näihin vielä luettava myöskin kuvaus neidoista rautamaidon lypsäjinä, koska tässä germaanilaiselta alalta tulleessa piirteessä neitojen kolmiluku viittaa kristilliseen alkuperään. // Katolinen aines on siis loitsussamme hyvin yleinen. Tästä täytyy tulla siihen päätökseen, että raudan sanat ovat katolisena aikana syntyneet ja Länsi-Suomessa alkunsa saaneet. Tätä päätelmää tukevat vielä muutkin seikat. Yksityiskohtainen tutkimus on osottanut tässä loitsussa samallaista kulkua ja kehitystä kuin verensulkuluvuissakin. Luvut, jotka länsimurteen alueella ovat lyhyitä ja ylimalkaan erillisiä, yhtyvät itäisille runoalueille tultuansa. Runon kulkiessa tapahtuu säkeiden muuntumista; sellaiset seikat, joita ei voida saada runomitallisiksi, syrjäy tetään, mutta sijaan saadaan runsaasti sointuvia, koreita säkeitä muista runoista ja uusia keksimällä, vieläpä varsin myöhäisenäkin aikana, 1700-luvulla (pahan palokesän juttu). Täten raudan luvut itämurteen alueella esiintyvät erinomaisen laajoina ja komeina' (276-77).

Lewis, C. P., ‘Welsh Territories and Welsh Identities in Late Anglo-Saxon England’, in Britons in Anglo-Saxon England, ed. by Nick Higham, Publications of the Manchester Centre for Anglo-Saxon Studies, 7 (Woodbridge: Boydell, 2007) 130–43. Really interesting stuff re place-names and incorportation of bits of Wales into ASE. Plenty of variation. But I was particularly struck by: ‘Mersete included included nineteen manors comprising twenty-one named places. All the place-names were English, including the six which have not been identified. As many as fifteen had as their generic second element tun “’settlement’ or ‘township’), a proportion unusual in most parts of England but paralleled in other border areas, including Englefield and the Golden Valley of Herefordshire. It may suggest that the place-names had been coined fairly recently. Nearly all the descriptive first elements of the names were drawn from just two types: dithematic Old English personal names (Cyneheard, Cyneweard, Osbeorn, Oswulf and Wulfhere) and the simplest topographic identifiers (east, west, field, wood, marsh, island, nook and fortification or manor house). [what’s so specially simple about these?] The place-names, while the personal names were perhaps those of the first English owners of the manors concerned, not more than a few generations before 1066’ (135); ‘The English-named and English-owned manors of Mersete hundred were full of Welsh peasant tenants in 1086. Six of the nineteen had only Welshmen as inhabitants, and another six had Welshmen alongside others. Four manors were waste and untenanted, leaving only three populated manors without Welshmen, one of which was occupied by ‘men’ whose status and ethnicity were not stated. Another was the manor of ‘Newton’, where there were two villans and two bordars: the place-name might be taken to indicate a recent settlement of incoming English peasants’ (135). Plenty more cool stuff, some of which would support the idea of the A-S state extending as particular vassals of the king extend their own sway bit by bit.

Lewis, C. S., Studies in Words, 2nd ed. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1967). Ármann cites 66 as origin for his argument re supernatural as paradox and so silly.

Lewis, C. S., The Discarded Image: An Introduction to Medieval and Renaissance Literature ( 1964) [gen lit E510]. Lagamon 15775ff. ‘tells us that the air is inhabited by a great many beings, some good and some bad, who will live there till the world ends … But La­amon is not writing thus because he shares in any communal and spontaneous response made by the social group he lives in. The real history of the passage is quite different. He takes his account of the aerial daemons from the Norman poet Wace (c. 1155). Wace takes it from Geoffrey of Monmouth’s Historia Regum Britanniae (before 1139). Geoffrey takes it from the second-century de Deo Socratis of Apuleius. Apuleius is reproducing the pneumatology of ð Plato. Plato was modifying, in the interests of ethics and monotheism, the mythology he had received from his ancestors’ (2). pp 122-38. Re learned explanations of elves.

Rather an annoying book. Slightly pompous style.

‘Albertus Magnus [Dict Mid Ag: c. 1200-1280, Born Lauingen, Ger., d. Cologne. Systematic paraphrase of Aristotle; ‘The authenticity of many other works, notably the Speculum astronomiae, is still disputed among scholars’] gives rulings about the lawful and unlawful use of planetary images in agriculture. The burial in your field of a plate inscribed with the character or hieroglyph of a planet is permissable; to use it with invocations or “suffumigations” is not (Speculum Astonomiae, x)’ (104). Re Olympian gods/planets: ‘Not that the Christian poet believed in the god because he believed in the planet; but all three things—the visible planet in the sky, the source of influence, and the god—generally acted as a unity upon his mind. I have not found evidence that theologians were at all disquieted by this state of affairs’ (105). 105-9 list of characteristics, metals etc. of planets.

117-18 re daemones>demons. ‘Whatever else a [119] modern feels when he looks at the nigt sky, he certainly feels that he is looking out—like one looking out from the saloon entrance on to the dark Atlantic or from the lighted porch upon dark and lonely moors. But if you accepted the Medieval Model you would feel like one looking in. The Easrth is “outside the city wall” [Alanus]. When the sun is up he dazzles us and we cannot see inside. Darkness, out own darkness, draws the veil and we catch a glimpse of the high pomps within; the vast, lighted concavity filled with music and life’ (118-19).

Lewis, Charlton T. and Charles Short, A Latin Dictionary, Founded on Andrews’ Edition of Freund’s Latin Dictionary, Revised, Enlarged, and in Great Part Rewritten (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1879).

Lewis, Henry and Holger Pedersen, A Concise Comparative Celtic Grammar, 3rd ed. (Göttingen, 1989), §29

Lewis, Michael, 'Wall Street on the Tundra', Vanity Fair (April 2009). http://www.vanityfair.com/politics/features/2009/04/iceland200904, accessible from http://rafhladan.is/handle/10802/1353.

Lexer, Matthias, Mittelhochdeutsches Handwörterbuch (Leipzig: Hirzel, 1869–76). s.v. albe swstf. (I. 26b) md. alve alpe Parz. Barl. Renn. Msf. 314, 11; albe teutsch perge zwischen Walhen und Teutschen Voc. 1482; als er (der snê) von den alben gât Dietr. 9415; auf einer hôhen alben in Kärnden Mgb. 113, 2; weideplatz auf einem berge albe und gesuech Gr. w. 3, 678. 725. 727; st. alp alpa Glar. 55.61. – vgl. alp, elbe u. Dwb. 1, 201; Curt. 1, 258.

s.v. alp, alb there’s stuff.

s.v. elbe stf. (I. 24b) md. die elfe Msf. 126, 8 (var. von den elben). – zu alp; s. elbinne.

s.v. elbinne swf. s. v. a.[so viel als] elbe. elbinnen und veien Albr[recht von Halberstadt, ed. by K. Bartsch (Quedlinburg 1861)]. 1, 363; [nothing after ; except next entry, elbisch. Odd]

Liberman, Anatoly, An Analytic Dictionary of English Etymology, http://www.scribd.com/doc/9252925/An-Analytic-Dictionary-of-English-Etymology-Anatoly-Liberman

**Lid, Nils, ‘Um Finnskot og Alvskot: Eit Umråde av Norsk Sjukdomsmagi’XXXXcheck spelling, Maal og Minne (1921), 37–66. Looks good.

Liebermann, F. (ed.), Die Gesetze der Angelsachsen, 3 vols (Halle a. S.: Niemeyer, 1903–16)

Lieberman, Max, 'Anglicization in High Medieval Wales: The Case of Glamorgan', The Welsh History Review, 23.1 (2006), 1-26.

*Liebrecht, F., Zur Volkskunde: alte und neue Aufsätze (Heilbronn, 1897), esp. pp. 25-53, on Walter Map.

Liestøl, Aslak, ‘Runer frå Bryggen’, Viking: Tidsskrift for norrøn arkeologi, 27 (1964), 5–53. 41-50 re charm.

Liestøl, Knut, Norske trollvisor og norrøne sogor (Kristiania: Norlis, 1915)

LLiestøl, Knut, ‘Den nørrøne arven’, Norveg: Tidsskirft for folkelivsgransking/Journal of Norwegian Ethnology, 14 (1970), 7–108. Some kind of reprint or post mortem publication: fn. * to p. 7: ‘Innleiingskapittel til hans førebuing av den vitskaplege folkeviseutgåva. Liestøl døydde i 1952’. 107 (in the English summary: ‘from Sigurðar saga föts ok Ásmundar Húnakonungs comes ‘Ásmundur Aðalsson’ (CCF 36), though the conclusion is affected by the addition of a couple of folktale motifs foreign to the saga’ (107). 96 notes that chh 17 and 18 of Bærings saga become ballad-sources. And Bárðar saga too! ‘Visa om Ásmundur Adalsson (CCF 36) fortel at Åsmund vil bela Ingubjørg, men ho vert fest til Sigurd Fot. Åsmund og Olav, skoveinen hans, kjem ubedne til Bryllaupet, gjer det mørkt i halla ved trollkunster og får såleis ført brura bort. Dei flyg både til og frå bryllaupsgarden på ein gam (fabeldyr). Ein gamal kall hadde kjent att Åsmund og Olav, og no dreg Sigurd fot til Hunaland. Han får med seg risen Rani. Då dei kjem fram, vert det straks slag. Rane fell för Åsmund. Sigurd vart såra, men lækt, og [85] Åsmund gav honom Ingebjørg attende, sjølv fekk han Sigurds syster Randarsol. — Grunnlaget for visa er, som alt Kølbing har påvist [no reference to this dude—who is he? Germania XX I believe], Sigurðar saga fóts ok Ásmundur húnakonungs [sic re caps] (Utg. av J. H. Jackson ...). Frå soga kjenner ein att namna Åsmund hunekonge og Sigurd fot og like eins Olav Skosvein, men Signý er ombytt med Ingibjørg. Hendingane er dei same som i soga, berre med den skilnaden at slutten av soga er heilt omlaga; i visa får Åsmund Sigurds syster Randarsol, i soga vert det fortalt korleis Åsmund fekk elena, dotter av irekongen Rolv. Dessutan er det i visa skoti inn eit par overnaturlege drag: gammen og risen. Soga høyrer til dei yngre lygisogone, men ligg til grunn for rímur om same emnet og desse rímurne vert sette til “første halvdel af 15. årh.”.’ (no source given for last quotation) (84-85). I didn’t know about the ríma—follow up.

Liestøl, Knut, ‘Det litterære grunnlaget for Sigurdar saga fóts ok Ásmundar húnakonungs’, in Sagn og folkeminne (Oslo: Norlis, 1941), pp. 53–58, repr. from Festskrift til Halvdan Koht på sekstiårsdagen 7de juli 1933, XXXXX Staður Forlag Ár Oslo, 1933 pp. 154–58. ‘...soga er millom dei beste i sitt slag. Ho hev ikkje den keidsame og unkunstnarlege upphauging av episke motiv som gjerne plar skemma desse sogone’ (53). 55 personal names are generally pretty run of the mill for FSS.

**Lincoln, Bruce. Discourse and the Construction of Society: Comparative Studies of Myth, Ritual, and

Reviews of Folklore Scholarship 133 RR 1993.9.1929 see also NF 2 463:1.c.95.157

Classi® cation. New York: Oxford University Press, 1989. Explores how myth, ritual, and

classi® cation bind and reconstruct societies during crises. Draws on Platonic philosophy, the

Upanishads of India, ancient Celtic nabquets, the Spanish Civil War, the Iranian revolution, and

professional wrestling.

Lind, E. H., Norsk-isländska dopnamn ock fingerade namn från medeltiden (Uppsala: Lundquist, 1905–15). Check capitalisation.

Lind, E. H., Norsk-isländska dopmnamn ock fingerade namn från medeltiden: supplementband (Oslo, 1931).

Lind, E. H., Norsk-isländska personbinamn från medeltiden (Uppsala: Lundquist, 1920–21)

*Lind, Ivan, ‘Geography and Place-Names’, in Readings in Cultural Geography, ed. P. L. Wagner and M. W. Mikesell (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1962), pp. 118–28.

*Lindahl, Carl, Earnest Games: Folkloric Patterns in ‘The Canterbury Tales’ (Bloomington, 1987).

Most teachers of medieval English must at some point explain that all vowels alliterate with one another; that cearu alliterates with cwic; and that spræc, storm, scip and segl do not alliterate. For this reason alone, Minkova’s reanalysis of medieval English alliteration, which provides new analyses of these and like phenomena, will be widely welcomed. However, Alliteration and Sound Change also does much to open up the history of English syllable onsets, traditionally a poor relation in scholarship to nuclei and codas, and will be of interest to phonologists and metricists generally. Although founded on poetic alliteration, Alliteration and Sound Change is characterised by the inventive deployment of other linguistic evidence, medieval and modern, wherever relevant, making for stimulating reading at every turn. Its approaches are explicitly aligned with optimality theory; how much adherents of optimality theory stand to gain from them I am ill-placed to judge, but the theory is at any rate not so dominant as to prove an obstacle to those of other theoretical persuasions.
Minkova’s opening chapter, ‘Social and linguistic setting of alliterative verse in Anglo-Saxon and Medieval England’, is a laudable point of departure, but also the book’s weak-point. Slips such as ‘the famous Finnesburh Fragment in Beowulf’ (p. 3) and assertions like ‘it is difficult to imagine that the illiterate peasantry would have had much need or use for refined verbal art’ (p. 17), along with the failure to mention major relevant studies such as O’Keeffe’s Visible Song (1990), undermine one’s confidence in Minkova’s conclusions here. Consequently, Minkova’s core premises about the essential orality of alliterative poetry, which underpin her assumptions concerning the fidelity of poetic metre and ornament to spoken language, emerge more as assumptions than as well-argued positions. These problems recur later (principally the section ‘Sound over letter’, pp. 78–87), and those who believe that phonologically unexpected alliteration can be explained simply as arbitrary poetic conventions—as Minkova herself effectively concedes, to some extent, regarding the early alliteration of /j/ and /γ/ (pp. 116–18)—may not be convinced that we are better off seeking phonological explanations.
That said, as Minkova moves onto her main themes, the explanatory power of her assumptions militates in their favour. Highlights of the discussions which follow include convincing arguments that, at least in poetic registers, late Old English  still represented only /k-/ (appearing in words like cild as *[kj]; pp. 90–113) and  allophonic variants of /sk/ (pp. 130–34, 193–202). The long-standing theory that Old English vocalic alliteration results from initial glottal stop epenthesis is placed on a newly secure footing, while the preference of Middle English poets for same-vowel alliteration is illuminated (ch. 4). Initial consonant clusters receive a thorough and wide-ranging investigation in the remaining chapters of the book, which examines the patterns in the alliteration of clusters in Middle English and brings new evidence to bear both on explaining these patterns, on the distinctive Old English alliteration of s-clusters, and on the history of initial cluster simplification (chs 5–7).
There are a few technical deficiencies. Old English vowel-length is not usually marked, but puts in some apparently random appearances (e.g. pp. 192, 198, 230); what I take to be the product of the automatic lengthening of initial hyphens to en-dashes in Microsoft Word is occasionally apparent (pp. 42, 52–53, 113). More problematic is the frequent reference to internet resources without mention of their URLs (pp. xvii, 8; also 43 n. 96, 56 n. 119, 280 n. 91 et passim). This is unacceptable: mercurial though URLs may be, that is no excuse for leaving readers at the mercy of internet search engines.
Alliteration and Sound Change in Early English is exciting, and challenging. One often wishes for more definitive analyses of phenomena it considers on the basis of data culled from sources such as the electronic Middle English Dictionary (e.g. pp. 296–99, 345–49), but this emphasises the range of new avenues for research which the book suggests rather than any deficiency. (Though the identification of Middle English forms such as tharl < þræl as ‘scribal epenthesis’ and their deployment as evidence for initial cluster cohesion (pp. 294–96) would have benefited from a consideration of metathesis in English.) While Minkova’s discussions are clear enough, they are seldom lucid; this is an understandable consequence of the complexity and range of material martialled, but is the more regrettable for that. Each chapter has a summarising conclusion, but the book as a whole does not, leaving one with a sense of things stopped in medias res. But that befits a book which not only produces an impressive range of answers to important questions, but leaves us with as many new questions again.

University of Glasgow						Alaric Hall

References

Middle English Dictionary 1952–2001. Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press. Online at , accessed 9–11–2004.
O’Keefe, Katherine O’Brien 1990. Visible Song: Transitional Literacy in Old English Verse. Cambridge Studies in Anglo-Saxon England 4. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

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