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 :-)*

Abdelkarim, Sherif, 'This Land is your Land: Naturalization in England and Arabia, 500–1000', postmedieval: a journal of medieval cultural studies, 11 (2020), 396–406. https://doi.org/10.1057/s41280-020-00190-9. Not very substantial, but interesting as a foray into comparative research between early medieval OE and Arabic literature/culture.

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)

Marc S. Bernstein, Stories of Joseph: Narrative Migrations Between Judaism and Islam (Detroit, MI: Wayne State University Press, 2009), https://www.google.co.uk/books/edition/Stories_of_Joseph/ 'While in this book I present a case study of one such example of cross-cultural intertextuality, I am decidedly not interested in trac[xv]ing ultimate sources. This would not only be an endeavor of forbidding complexity---given the intricate and often effaced map of interactions between the traditions---but also one fraught with a long history of polemicism' (pp. xiv-xv)

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!!

Beta, Simone, 'Exercices amusants pour entraîner l’esprit: les énigmes byzantines en Italie (xiiie-xve siècles)', Cahiers d'études italiennes, 21 (2015), 149-67 https://doi.org/10.4000/cei.2724

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 visible 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).

Bonebakker, S. A., and Michael Fishbein (eds), A Reader of Classical Arabic Literature, Resources in Arabic and Islamic Studies, 1 (Atlanta, GA: Lockwood, 2012) [repr. from Quaderni di Studi Arabi: Studi e testi, 1 (Cafoscarina: Università Ca' Foscari di Venezia, Dipartimento di Scienze Storico-Archeologische e Orientalische, 1995)]

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, C. E., 'Bahāʾ al- Dawla Wa-ḍiyāʾ al-Milla, Abū Naṣr Fīrūz', in Encyclopædia of Islam, ed. by P. J. Bearman and others, 2nd edn, 12 vols (Leiden: Brill, 1960–2005)

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). p. 244: 'al-Maʾmūnīs Stil zeigt die allgemeinen Tendenzen er arabischen Poesie des 4./10. Jahrhunderts, die also weithin manieristisch schon dem gleichen unentrinnbaren Hang zum Wortschmuck nachgibt, wie die neupersische Poesie, in der bekanntlich kein Vers ohne mindestens eine sprachliche nukte (Figur oder Concetto) etwas gilt ... Diese Stilfiguren sind in den zeitgenössischen Poetiken ... größtenteils berücksichtigt; und auch bei al-Maʾmūnī nachweisbare, von jenen nicht ausdrücklich behandelte Formen wie die Periphrase und die metaphora continuata mögen sich in der einen oder anderen arabischen oder persischen Poetik finden lassen. Bekanntlich schöpfen nun aber alle diese Poetiken ihr Belegmaterial nie aus dem Werk eines Dichters oder auch nur aus einer Zeitepoche. Man erhält also weder einen Überblick über die geschichtliche Entwicklung einer einzelnen Redefigur noch darüber, welche Rolle bestimmte Figuren in dem Werk eines einzelnen Dichters spielen. Gerade die Geschichte der Stilfiguren wäre aber für die Frage der Beeinflussung der persischen durch die arabische Poesie, wie oben schon bemerkt ... von einiger Bedeutung. Es erschien mir daher nützlich, hier einem Überblick über die wichtigsten sprachlichen und vergleichstechnischen Mittel al-Maʾmūnīs zu geben und übrigens noch hier und da auf Parallelen im italienischen Barock hinzuweisen. // al-Maʾmūnī bedient ist sich einer bewußt kunstvollen Sprache, die, bei einer gewissen Sympathie für ausgefallene Wörter, zuweilen reichlich gespreizt -- wie in einigen Versen des Großen quflāʿa-Gedichtes (Nr. 45) --, zuweilen ausgesprochen frisch und natürlich klingt ("Palmfaserkorb" Nr. 7, "Diät" Nr. 93). Manchmal steht das Pathos der Sprache in gewollt komischem Gegensatz zum banalen Inhalt. // Häufig arbeitet er mit Klangspielen. Alliterationen und entsprechende Konsonantenwiederhoolungen in der Mitte und am Ende der Wörter kommen vor, und natürlich auch alle möglichen Arten des sogenannten taǵnīs bzw. ǵinās = Paronomasie. Taǵnīs tāmm (Wiederholung des gleichen Wortes mit anderer Bedeutung) ist relativ selten; einfachere Variationen kommen jedoch öfter vor. // Die alles beherrschende Gedankenfigur der maʾmūnīschen Poesie ist die Antithese (ṭibāq, muṭābaqa, taḍādd), die auch in der Barocklyrik eine hervorstechende Rolle spielt. Von ganz einfachen Gegensätzen wie Stehen und Sitzen (1; 2; 3; 94), Schwarz und Weiß (z. B. 73, 3, 4, 6-8), Gold und Silber (76, 4; 78, 3; 83, 4; 84, 3) etc. bis hin zu komplizierten Formen kommen zahlreiche Abwandlungen vor. Hingewiesen sei auf die scherzhaften Scheinantithesen 11, 3 und 18, 1-2. // Zum Teil verwandt mit der Antithese -- nämlich in ihrem Begriffe oder Vorstellungen oft willkürlich verknüpfenden Schematismus -- ist die in dem arabischen Poetiken als murāʿāt an-naẓīr bzw. tanāsub (wörtlich "Berücksichtigung des Entsprechenden" bzw. "harmonisches Verhältnis") bekannte Form, die wir mit H. Ritter als "harmonische Bildwahl" bezeichen wollen. Ein solcher Fall liegt, um nur wenige Beispiele herauszugreifen, etwa vor in Nr. 4, wo alle Vergleiche der Baumsphäre entstammen, oder in den sehr skurrilen Versen 45, 4-6, wo nicht weniger als fünf Tiere hintereinander als Metaphern bzw. Vergleiche für verschiedene Aspekte ein und desselben Gegenstandes verwandt werden. Auch 8, 1 von dem Mädchen mit gazellengleichem Hals (Bild für einen Krug) gesagt wird, es entzücke die Augen und Hals sind Betrachters, so mag diese Figur beabsichtigt sein -- Augen und Hals sind Körperteile. Und auch hier kommen scherzhafte Scheinformen vor. So erfüllt das eben als Beispiel für Scheinantithese genannte Wortpaar zugleich die Bedingungen der harmonischen Bildwahl (zu yad wörtlich "Hand", hier in der Bedeutung "Macht, Einfluß", tritt riǵl "Fuß"). Nach dem gleichen Prinzip ist auch 17, 3 gebaut. // Außerordentlich reich is die Skala von Möglichkeiten, deren sich al-Maʾmūnī in seiner Vergleichstechnik bedient. Neben den altherkömmlichen Partikeln wie ka kaʾanna, kaʾannamā, mitl, li gebraucht er die Verben śbh IV und ḥky I u. III ("gleichen, ähnen"), ferner solche, die den Vergleich ausdrücklich als einen nur in der Phantasie des Dichters hervorgerufenen Reflex hinstellen, wie haltu, ḥasibtu, raʾaitu, taʾammaltu. Hinzu kommt die als taǵrīd bekannte Verknüpfung und schließlich der Vergleich ohne Partikel in Form einfacher Gleichsetzung (A = B). // Aus dem Vergleich entsteht, durch Verschweigen des Vergleichenen, die Metapher; Metonymie und Synecdoche sind nicht durch ein Abbildverhältnis sondern "die reale Partizipation des proprie-Bereichs am tropischen Bereich" (Lausberg 79) definiert. Al-Maʾmūnī verwendet Metonymie selten ... Synekdoche dagegen oft, namentlich in Adjektiven, die Gegenstände periphrasieren. Metaphern gebraucht er außerorderntlich häufig. Während in einer ganzen Reihe von Fällen der Gegenstand zunächst expressis verbis genannt wird, setzen andere direkt mit der Metapher ein, was ebenso wie die synekdochischen Adjektive dem Rätselcharakter dieser Poesie zugute kommt. Die Periphrase zeigt sich auch noch in anderer Gestalt, vor allem in Verbindungen mit dū, dāt, ibn und ibna. // Eine fortgeschrittene Vergleichstechnik, die Umkehrung bekannter Grundformen, verwendet al-Maʾmūnī gelegentlich (56, 1; 61, 2), und zwar auch in der Form des Vergleichs von Konkretem mit Abstraktem, die Ǵurǵānī als Sonderform der Umkehrung beschrieben hat. // Einen besonders hervorragenden Platz nehmen jene zusammengesetzten Vergleiche ein, die Ǵurǵānī unter dem Gesichtspunkt "Eingehen auf Einzelheiten" (tafṣīl) behandelt. Es finden sich bei al-Maʾmūnī Beispiele für beide Arten, die man geradezu als analytischen und synthetischen Vergleich bezeichnen könnte. Als Muster für erstere Art nennt Ǵurǵānī den Vers von Ibn al-Muʿtazz: "Als ob die Augen der frischen Narzissen Pomadenbüchschen aus Perlen wären, die mit Karneol gefüllt sind." Hier wird also eine natürliche Einheit in eine phantastische Vielheit aufgelöst. Nach diesem Schema ist die große Mehrheit der Speiseepigramme al-Maʾmūnīs (Ei, Melone etc.) gebaut. Die Umkehrung -- mehrere Gegenstände werden zu einer phantastischen Einheit verknüpft (die freilich nicht unbedingt ein Gegenstand sein muß) -- kommt etwa in dem scherzhaften Gedicht auf Weißkäse und Oliven (73) vor, ist aber in seiner Poesie weniger häufig. // Zu dem "Eingehen auf Einzelheiten" gehört bei Ǵurǵānī auch eine Technik, die darin besteht, "daß du eines nimmst und ein anderes weglässest (ausklammerst)", eine Form für die H. Friedrich die Bezeichnung "wegnehmende Metapher" gebraucht. Die Gleichung wird hierbei sozusagen durch eine "Substraktion" nachträglich stimmig gemacht. Das Standardbeispiel Ǵurǵānīs: "Sie hat Augen, die mit keinen Lidern verdunden sind", kommt sogar in ganz ähnlicher Form bei al-Maʾmūnī vor: "Fingerspitzen zarter Mädchen, die mit keiner Hand verbunden sind, Augen Großäugiger, denen keine Pupille eignet" (52, 2). hat diese Technik, indem sie gleichsam der Phantasie die Flügel stutzt, häufig etwas Desillusionierendes, die poetische Wirkung Verringerndes, so kann sie doch auch in umgekehrter Richtung, im Sinne einer Hervorhebung des Ungewöhnlichen, Wunderbaren, wirken, so, wenn es 4, 1 heißt: "ein baum, den weder Staub noch Regen wachsen ließen" u. ä. al-Maʾmūnī, dessen Vorliebe für antithetisches Denken diese Technik wohl entgegenkam, bedient sich ihrer außerordentlich häufig. // Eine weitere komplizierte Entwicklingsstufe des Vergleichs, die phantastische Ätiologie, kommt bei al-Maʾmūnī recht selten vor. Fremd var sie ihm allerdings nicht. Fürht doch sogar Ǵurǵānī gerade bei seiner Behandlung der "erfundenen Begründungen" zwei Verse von ihm an. In der persischen Poesie, wo diese Figur bekanntlich die größte Bedeutung hat, dient sie meist als Erklärung einer Naturerscheinung durch Beilegung menschlicher Reaktionen (Animation). Bei al-Maʾmūnī findet sich nur ein solcher Vers (38, 17), was mit dem völligen Fehlen von Naturbeschreibungen in dem erhaltenen Material zusammenhängen mag. Doch weist es mindestens in die Richtung dieser Figur, wenn er den Henkel des Kruges (den er mit einem Mädchen vergleicht) als Arm, der den Schleier aus dem Gesicht schlägt, deutet. Überhaupt liebt unser Poet die mit der phantastischen Ätiologie so bäufig verbundene Vermenschlichung des Gegenstandes, die Belebung. Sie kann durch eines jener periphrasierenden Adjektive angedeutet oder aber expressis verbis durch Ausdrücke wie "zwei Gefährten" (10, 1), "schwanger", "gebären" (14, 2), "ein Gelehrter" (28, 1) usw. zum Ausdruck gebracht werden. Im allgemeinen werden diese Belebungen vom ersten bis zum letzten Vers durchgehalten, in welchem Falle man wohl von metaphora continuata sprechen darf. // Eine relativ geringe Rolle spielt in al-Maʾmūnīs Poesie die Hyperbel. Allerdings finden sich auch hierfür gelungene Beispiele, namentlich unter den Speiseepigrammen, so wenn es in dem Poem auf den Senf heißt, daß ein Tropfen von ihm Sturzfluten aus Nase und Augen in Bewegung setzt. // Wenden wir uns nun der Bildsphäre der maʾmūnīschen Poesie zu und untersuchen, welchen Bereichen seine Vergleiche vornehmlich entnommen sind, so fällt die Vorliebe für Edelsteine ins Auge; Gold und Silber spielen eine kaum minder gewichtige Rolle, und ebenso auffällig ist die Einbeziehung des Kosmos in die Trivialsphäre; Himmel und Erde, Sonne, Mond und Sterne müssen der Phantasie des Dichters wie einem göttlichen Willen such fügen, auch wenn dieser etwa nur eine Melone besingt. Schwerter und Lanzen werden nicht selten als Bilder gebraucht. Auch aus dem religiösen Bereich werden hier und da recht freizügig Vergleiche entlehnt. Ein nicht unerheblicher Antiel von Bildern entstammt ferner der Begräbnissphäre. Und bedeutend is schließlich auch die Auswahl von Bildern, die der engeren oder weiteren Sphäre des Sexus entnommen sind. // Zum Schluß noch ein kurzes Wort zu der Beschreibungstechnik al-Maʾmūnīs. Da diese größtenteils auf Vergleichen beruht, ist zwar das meiste schon gesagt. Es mag aber hinzugefügt werden, daß seine "Beschreibungen", die sämtlich kurz und pointiert sind, bei aller Phantastik der Metaphern fast durchweg einen oder gar mehrere Verse enthalten, die eine sachliche, durch keinen Vergleich "verunklarte", oft geradezu nüchtern anmutende Aussage über den Gegenstand machen. So erfahren wir, daß der Sessel eiserne Pfosten und einen ledernen Bezug hat, der Schöpfeimer in Damaskus hergestellt ist und daß sein Griff knarrt, daß im Federkãstchen braune und weiße Federn liegen, etc. Offenbar wird damit der alten Forderung, der waṣf solle "eine veritative Aussage über den Gegenstand" sein, immer noch mehr oder weniger bewußt Rechnung getragen.'

*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).

Cane, Meredith (2003) Personal Names of Men in Wales, Cornwall and Brittany, 400–1400 AD. Unpublished PhD thesis, University of Wales, Aberystwyth. P. 165, re names in WG 400-1100, gives element 'el (suffix): Cyhelyn, Llywelyn'; 168 'llyw 'leader': Cynllew, Gwynllyw, Llywelyn'; 170 list 'caw' among 'elements unknown or rare', citing Evans, EPSDD p. 28 'Caw, "steadfast, honest"' but then says 'but see rather Sims-Williams, CIB, p. 199'; and p. 176 gives 'el (suffix): Hirel, Llywelyn' re Llandaf Charters. Only discussion of double suffixation found with a search for 'suffix' is as follows, re name 'Benitoe' in the Redon Cartulary, given as a Latin/Biblical borrowing (presumably from 'bene' etc.?): 'This name, along with Portitoe in this list and Anauuedoe and Uenitoe in the element list, appears to combine a main element with a double suffix ending -it -oe' (p. 274 fn 487). Couuallon, re names in charters of Redon, pp. 262, 271: 262 gives 'cob (cyf < *kom): Coblon, Cofinoc, Coucant, Cougen, Couuallon'; 271 gives 'uuallon 'brave': Cauallon, Catuuallon, Couuallon...'

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.

H. M Chadwick, 'Studies in Old English', Transactions of the Cambridge Philological Society, 4.2 (1894--99), 87--265 pp. 137-38

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

Chism, Christine, 'Tawaddud/Teodor and the Stripping of Medieval Mastery', ''Digital Philology: A Journal of Medieval Cultures'', 8 (2019), 123–37; {{DOI|10.1353/dph.2019.0018}} 'This manuscript gradually led me into the global Tawaddud/Teodor network through a series of accidents, involving movements across media, support from colleagues, gossip at conferences, friends spreading news to scholars working in diverse cor- ners of the country, email exchanges, and telephone conferences. Crucial throughout have been digital research and the drunken synchronicities of finally finding the right searches (not easy when you are transliterat- ing between premodern non-standardized-orthographic languages)' (128). 'Special collections are strange sanctuaries, forms of holy ground where you must divest yourself of every accessory—laptops, pens, note- pads, backpacks, purses, and outerwear—except your shoes.' (129).

Chism, Christine, 'Lost Worlds: Encyclopaedism and Riddles in the Tale of Tawaddud/Theodor', in Bestsellers and Masterpieces: The Changing Medieval Canon, ed. by Heather Blurton and Dwight F. Reynolds (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2022), Chapter DOI: https://doi.org/10.7765/9781526147493.00016 'The riddle contests of Tawaddud's narrative actually travel much more easily than its encyclopedic sections: not as replication of the same riddles, bu as cultural translations that adapt the indigenous riddle cultures of new audiences. Castilian, Mayan and Filipino versions of the narrative often reduce or jettison the encyclopaeic examinations and capitalise on the riddle contests'.

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, Gender, Violence, and the Past in Edda and Saga (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2012).

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, MA: Medieval Academy of America, 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 (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 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.

Cole, Richard, 'The Political Symbolism of Ants and Bees in Old Norse Sources', Collegium Medievale, 33 (2020), 163-204. http://ojs.novus.no/index.php/CM/article/view/1871

*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]

Ian Cornelius and Eric Weiskott, 'The Intricacies of Counting to Four in Old English Poetry', Language and Literature (2021), 1–27, DOI: 10.1177/09639470211012297

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, Michael 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

Díaz Ariño, Borja, Epigrafía latina republicana de Hispania (ELRH), Col·lecció Instrumenta, 26 (Barcelona: Publicacions i edicions de la Universitat de Barcelona, 2008). 'C48. --- Placa de caliza gris con una pequeña fractura en su extremo inferior izquierdo y un rebaje circular en su ángulo inferior derecho, realizado para ser reutilizada como quicio de una puerta. Recuperada junto a C47 en 1924/25 al realizar las obras de alcantarillado de Cartagena. Se conserva en el Museo Arqueológico Municipal de Cartagena. [...] La pieza seguramente formaba parte del mismo mausoleo familiar que la anterior (C47), con la que además comparte similitudes tipológicas. Las dos últimas lineas del epitafo, grabadas a un tamaño ligeramente inferior que las precedentes, corresponden a una pequeña composición poética de ritmo dactilico que puede considerarse como un pentámetro imperfecto. Su contenido responde al tópico de la inadecuación del monumento a los méritos del difunto, habitual en los carmina sepulcrales. El cognomen Calena es un unicum de dificil adscripción, tampoco está atestiguado el uso como cognomen de la forma Galena. Podría estar relacionado con la ciudad campana de Cales. // Las características del epitafo, sumadas a la presencia del arcaísmo heic y la aféresis sitast permiten fechar este epígrafe hacia finales de época republicana.' (p. 135)

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 N., 'The West Saxon Genealogical Regnal List and the Chronology of Early Wessex', Peritia, 4 (1985), 21--66. 'Sisam thought that the Alfredian archetype contained in its pedigree(s) the spellings Ceardic ('Anglo-Saxon Royal Genealogies', 333 n 1) and Eaba; about the latter, which had once been thought (wrongly) to be archaic and therefore a dating feature, Sisam was ambivalent, thinking now that it was not old (ibid., 295 and n 4) and now that it was (ibid. 296) although he drew attention to comparable forms occurring right through the ninth century. And concerning the Anglian form Celin (for West Saxon Ceaulin) he became badly muddled: at p 297 n 1, he declared it original to the pedigree, sensibly in line with his theory of borrowing from the Anglian collection; but on p 333 he took Ceaulin to represent the earliest state of the text' (p. 31 n 25). See p. 58 for Dumville's comments on Celin: 'Indeed, a case can be made for the use of the Anglian collection as a source for the Genealogical Regnal List, for it is noteworthy that in the latter's pedigree of Æthelwulf all copies save N give Celm for Ceawlin, a miscopying of the Anglian form Celin proper to the Anglian collection; however, that it was an ultimate, rather than an immediate, source, seems more likely in view of the occurrence of additional names (Wig, [60] Freawine, Freothogar) which the List's version shares with the extended West Saxon pedigrees' (59-60). Cf. 60 fn 118 for further reference to Celin as Anglian.

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., 'The West Saxon Genealogical Regnal List: Manuscripts and Texts', Anglia: Zeitschrift für Englische Philologie, 104 (1986), 1--32 Sigla N London, British Library, MS. Additional 23211, f. lv (saec. ix ex.) P Cambridge, Corpus Christi College, Ms. 173, f. Γ (saec. χ in.) Q London, British Library, MS. Additional 34652, f. 2r/v (saec. xi in: 1001 x 1013) R Rochester, Cathedral Library, MS. A.3.5, ff. T-8r (saec. xii in.: probably 1122 x 1124) T London, British Library, MS. Cotton Tiberius A.iii, f. 178r/v (saec. x ex.: probably 977/8) V Cambridge, University Library, MS. Kk.3.18 (2004), ff. 3V^T (saec. xi2) W Cambridge, Corpus Christi College, MS. 383, f. 108V (saec. xii1

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.

Duplessis, Nicole M., 'On the Shoulders of Humphrey Carpenter: Reconsidering Biographical Representation and Scholarly Perception of Edith Tolkien', Mythlore , Vol. 37, No. 2 (134), 50th Anniversary Issue (Spring/Summer 2019), pp. 39-74 https://www.jstor.org/stable/10.2307/26809354. basically trying to rehabilitate Edith Tolkien, or at least emphasise how little we have her own voice in the Carpenter-led accounts of Tolkien's life. Interesting counterpoint to Bridget Mackenzie's 'misogynist' quote.

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).

Feulner, Anna Helene, Die griechischen Lehnwörter im Altenglischen, Texte und Untersuchungen zur Englischen Philologie, 21 (Frankfurt/Main: Peter Lang, 2000). Anna Helene Feulner, ''Die griechischen Lehnwörter im Altenglishen'', Münchener Universitäts-Schriften, 21 (Frankfurt am Main: Lang, 2000) {{ISBN|3-631-36720-1}} '"Von Funkes 'gelehrten lateinischen Lehn- und Fremdwörtern' sind viele griechischer Herkunft; er geht jedoch auf das griechische Element nicht ein und nennt griechische Etyma nur in Ausnahmehällen ([...] 1914: 159 κωλικόν, s. cawlic Anh. 1)' (p. 12).

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, Samfund til Udg. ad Gml. Nord. Litteratur, 51 (Copenhagen: Jørgensen, 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).

Freedman, Paul, and Gabrielle Spiegel, 'Medievalisms Old and New: The Rediscovery of Alterity in North American Medieval Studies', American Historical Review, 103 (1998), 677-704. {{DOI|10.1086/ahr/103.3.677}} 'However, the resonance of postmodernism in medieval fields differs from its effects on the study of eras that have always been regarded as more unproblem- atically progressive, such as the Renaissance. Demodernizing the Middle Ages entails stripping off fewer layers of assumptions, to be sure, but at the same time it summons up ghosts of the irrational that undermining the Renaissance does not. For example, the worlds of inquisitorial repression, of violence mixed with ceremony, extremes of fasting or bodily instability, to cite only a few cases, are vividly new postmodern topics in current medieval historiography. Yet, curiously and doubtless unintentionally, they recall the romantic and anti-modern fascination of nineteenth-century medievalisms. Postmodern tendencies may subvert canonical periods of modernity such as the Renaissance, but for the Middle Ages they strangely reassert an older tradition of the grotesque, intolerant character of the epoch, a dark irrationality that popular opinion never quite abandoned but that in scholarship marks a radical turn in contemporary historical approaches' (693). 1980s saw growing influence of postmodernist thought, particularly through gender studies, non-positivistic 'cultural history', and the linguistic turn ('or what might, in its most general sense, be termed a transformation in the understanding of documents as texts rather than sources', p. 697) (693-97). 'Looked at as a whole, there appear to be two postmodernist approaches to the Middle Ages. Both explore the marginal or the voiceless but from different perspectives of destabilization. On the one hand, there is a renewed emphasis on alterity and on the radical disjunction of the Middle Ages from the modern, the canonical, and the progressive. At its best, this presents us with a more intriguing, more colorful, and less familiar Middle Ages, in which the state is more predatory, piety is more intense, and mentalities more foreign than had been portrayed by the quintessentially "American school" of medieval historiography. The other regards the Middle Ages as darkly familiar, the analogue of a negatively construed modern West. In this light, the Middle Ages becomes the point of reference for those persecuting societies that mobilize rationally administered power toward repressive ends. Both tendencies share an aversion to a Middle Ages conceived as progressive, pluralist, rational, and self-aware' (702). 'Given this, it is hardly surprising that the most powerful sense of the Middle Ages current in the academy is what goes under the name of its alterity, for that alterity offers the best means of escaping from the model of total identification that was the chief mode of studying the Middle Ages in the past. What has changed in the postmodern understanding of medieval alterity, and serves sharply to distinguish it from the earlier modern construction of it, is the simultaneity of our desire for history and the recognition of its irreparable loss, a loss we no longer can, or care to, mask beneath the modernist guise of continuity and progress. If postmodernism has seemed to this generation a viable, indeed crucial, theoretical context out of which to work, this is so because postmodernism invites us to contemplate, as Eric Santner has written, "the shattered fantasy of the (always already) lost organic [704] society that has haunted the Western imagination."87 The alterity of the Middle Ages, it would appear, is our own estrangement from that fantasy writ large' (703-4).

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/h7010014

Frog, in Between the Worlds: Contexts, Sources, and Analogues of Scandinavian Otherworld Journeys, ed by Matthias Egeler and Wilhelm Heizmann, Ergänzungsbände zum Reallexikon der Germanischen Altertumskunde, 118 (Berlin: de Gruyter, 2020), pp. 566-690 https://doi.org/10.1515/9783110624663-018

Frog, 'The Æsir: An Obituary', in Res, Artes et Religio: Essays in Honour of Rudolf Simek, ed. by Sabine Heidi Walther, Regina Jucknies, Judith Meurer-Bongardt and Jens Eike Schnall, Literature and Culture, 1 (Leeds: Kısmet Press, 2021), pp. 141-75 (pp. 143-48).

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, 23–24, 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).