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).

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

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 for dating), but probably superceded by Jolly. 11–15 metre.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.

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 Freryja 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).

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.

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.

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

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.

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.

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.

*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, 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?

Alkarp, Magnus and Neil Price, ‘Tempel av guld eller kyrka av trä? Markradarundersökningar vid Gamla Uppsala kyrka’, Fornvännen, 100 (2005), 261–72. Finds various anomalies, but among them some evidence for what seems to be a late viking age wooden church beneath the lost north transept of the church at Gamla Uppsala.

Almqvist, Bo, ‘Scandinavian and Celtic Folklore Contacts in the Earldom of Orkney’, Saga-Book of the Viking Society, 20 (1978–81), 80–105. App. refs re mermaid types. Hmm, not really. Not really v. useful. Good ref re folks seeing everything going thru Orkney. Re Haraldr and Snæfríðr, ‘We are dealing here with an early instance of belief in the magic power of the Lapps, a Scandinavian belief that is still found in Orkney and Shetland folklore, as well as elsewhere in Britain. However, it has been demonstrated by the Norwegian folklorist Moltke Moe that the love-potion motif is of Celtic origin [ref from 1920s, hmm]. Close parallels are found in Geoffrey of Monmouth’s Historia Regum Brittaniae and its source, Nennius’s Historia Brittonum, where the story about Hengist, the Anglo-Saxon chieftain, and Rowena, the daughter of King Vortigern, is told. [96] The sources of this part of the Snjófríðr story may then, as Moltke Moe supposes, be of Welsh origin and Geoffrey of Monmouth’s or Nennius’s work may have acted as intermediary’ (95-6). Hmm.

Almqvist, Bo, ‘Of Mermaids and Marriages: Seamus Heaney’s “Maighdean Mara” and Nuala ní Dhomhnaill’s “An Mhaighdean Mhara” in the Light of Folk Tradition’, Béaloideas, 58 (1990), 1-74 [NF2 P464.c.16]. Looks like comparatively massive survey of fairy brides. But not actually very useful. ‘As hown by Helge Holmström in his thesis on the Swan Maiden Motif in Völundarkviða and elsewhere, the Swan Maiden Legend is but one of a whole complex of migratory legends relating to marriages or supernatural or supernaturally transformed female beings. Thus he distinguishes groups dealing with marriages to fairy women (feäktenskapstyperna). another group about personified nightmares (maräktenskapstypen) and a third one [4, 3 having a plate] about acquatic beings, mermaids or seal maidens (säläktenskapstypen). While legends belonging to the first of these categories are extremely rare in Ireland, and the seocnd group, as far as I am able to ascertain, is not represe4nted at all there, the third legend type is one of those most popular in Irish tradition’ (2-4).

Almqvist, Bo, ‘I marginalen till Sejd’, in Sejd och andra studier i nordisck själsuppfattning av Dag Strömbäck med bidrag av Bo Almqvist, Gertrud Gidlund, Hans Mebius, ed. by Gertrud Gidlund, Acta Academiae regiae Gustavi Adolphi, 72 (Hedemora, 2000), pp. 237–72. Surveys Strömbäck’s main sources with new comments and bibl. 243–50; NBs reliance on emendation of síga > síða in Lokasenna (247 (cf. 247–48)), doesn’t know McKinnel’s article on Heiðr (246–47); re Kormakr Ögmundarsons Sigurðardrápa 248–50. ‘Ehuru ytmeningen av satsen [phrase] Seið Yggr til Rindar är fullt klar, lämnas [?gives] vi I ovisshet [uncertainty] om hur Oden mera [more] I detalj tänkts ha burit sig åt [intended to have behaved?] för att vinna Rind genom [thru] sejden. Strömbäck är dock [h’ever] säkerligen [certainly] på rätt spår när han (Sejd, 150 f.) sammanställer uppgiften I Sigurðardrápa med bl. a. Snorris berättelse [story] om hur den onda drottning Gunnhild (inom parentes sagt uppfostrad hos samerna) anställer sejd mot Egill Skallagrímsson, så att han inte finner någon ro [rest, peace] på Island …’ (249). ‘I Rinds fall har vi emellertid [however] serligen också mera speciellt at skaffa [obtain] med framkallande av ett onaturligt tillstånd [permission] av oemotståndlig kättja [lust], vilket kan utläsas av den parallella framställningen I Saxo Grammati[250]cus’ Gesta Danorum, till vilken Strömbäck också hänvisar, och där det med all önskvärd tydlighet heter att Othinus genom sina magiska manipulationer gjort Rinda lymphanti similem … Det är precis detta tillstånd som betecknas [characterises] med ergi när ordet användes om kvinnor’ etc. (249–50). 250–60 additional matieral (250–52 not incuding the word for certain; 252–60 including it). Seems to think there’s something interesting afoot in The war of the gadhill with the Gaill Todd 1867, 12f.; 227. Re Ota, app. queen to Thorgisl (it says on the web); investigation shows refs actually to be 12 and 226, and dead ends. She gives audiences/answers depending on MS from altar but no detail. Doesn’t seem to mention Skírnismál. In modern Icelandic folklore 261–63. ‘Den brasklapp [reservation] jag inskjutit [interjected] av ovanstående [aforementioned] mening [idea] är betingad [conditional on] av frågan om ordet sejd verkligen [really] förekommer [occurs] på runinskrifter, något som väl [well] dock [nevertheless] får [have, get; may +infin] hållas [hold] för högst sannolikt [likely], eftersom [because] flera specialister på området [area] synes vara den meningen [idea, ?interpretation]. Här kan allmänt [general] hänvisas [refer] till Danmerks runeinskrifter (1942, spalt 711 f.) och där anförd [cited] litteratur. Under förutsättning [condition, prerequisite] att ifrågavarande inskrifter är rätt lästa [read], är de av vikt [??importance] dels [partly…] därför att de torde [?] ge [?give] de äldsta beläggen [attestation(s?)] på ordet, dels för att de dessutom [moreover] synes omvittna [?make clear], att sejden inte blott [merely] varit känd I Västnorden, utan jämväl I Danmark och Sverige. Sammanställningen [collocation] av sarþi—om nu detta ord är att uppfatta som preteritum av serða, ‘pläga smlag med’ (ofta använt om den aktive partens kopulerande I homosexuella förbindelser)—och siþ, på stenen från Södra [southern] Vänge, kan också betraktas [?contemplate] som ett tidigt [early] belägg [e.g.] för förbindelselänkar mellan seiðr och ergi. Hela frågan är emellertid av så komplicerad art [sort], att en ny separat behandling av en fackkunnig [professionally-knowledgeable] runolog vore önskvärd [desirable].’ (252).

264–69 Summering. ‘Det sambland mellan sejd och ergi som övertygande [convincingly] demonstrerats I Sejd har belagts [take, occupy] ytterligare [additional], och skäl har också anförts [adduce, cite etc.] för att ergi utmärker [distinguishes] inte blott [merely] de sejdande, utan också ibland [among; sometimes] genom sejd framkallas [produce, develop] hos [with, by, among] de av trolldomsakten drabbande [befall, affect]’ (264). ‘Ett extatiskt tillstånd [condition] är väl nära nog [well nigh certainly or somesuch] en förutsättning [precondition] för flygförmåga [flight-capability]’ (265); seems to see this as reasonably well-attested feature of seiðr 265–66. Not so sure myself.

Alver, Bente Gullveig and Torunn Selberg, ‘Folk Medicine as Part of a Larger Concept Complex’, Arv, 43 (1987), 21–44. Looks dead handy re medicine and supernatural creatures/witchery. Cool.

‘The conception on folk medicine as a folk variant of academic medicine has had consequences for the approach to the issue and for an understanding of folk medicine. It has led to the use of the premises of scientific medicine in the analysis of folk concepts of illness and treatment. In this context, the terminology and concepts of scientific medicine have formed the framework for the perception of folk medicine’ (21). ‘Studies have been concerned with the examination of the biomedical effectiveness of folk medicine (for example see Honko 1963, 1978; Alver 1980). This led to the discussion of a division of folk medicine into a rational part and an irrational part (Bø 1972, selberg 1982)’ (21). ‘The conceptual limits of the category “folk medicine” are open to question. Quite possibly, folk medicine is part of a larger concept complex. Also in [22] question is whether categories of illness and health, such as they are defined and understood within scientific medicine, are delimited phenomena in a folk conceptual world. Rather, we must ask if we study illness and health as part of a central value system within the folk conceptual world’ (21-22). ‘We have found it useful to use as our starting point core values of equal importance as health. Such core values are production and reproduction. In older oral traditional material concerning man’s interaction with the supernatural, these values are especially exposed. We discuss the attitudes about hulders and witches for two reasons. They are central in Norwegian folk tradition, and they have a special significance as destructive forces in folk explanations of illness’ (22). ‘A cognitive system is a culturally learned way of seeing, thinking about, and experiencing reality. It structures ut impressions and experiences into categories and creates order in our world. To creat order from disorder is a common human need, but the categories used and the content of these categories are cultural variables’ … ‘If man thinks of his world in categories, he also has to think of the borders between categories. These borders form areas which are variously filled with tension. A border is more than a sharp line between two areas. There is also a “no man’s land” on both sides that is marginal, ambiguous and filled with tension, composed of several qualities. According to Edmund Leach, these border areas form the taboo areas in a culture. He claims that we create structure in our world by naming areas, and keep these conceptually separate by making the border areas taboo. Language gives us names to know things by, taboo inhibits the recognition of those parts of the unbroken reality which separate things’ (23). ‘Through the violation of folkways and mores, man transgresses important borders in the web of social life. When people act so as to be in a border area between right and wrong, their ideas about the supernatural are activated. In many different folk traditions, supranormal beings are customarily attributed the role of guardians of social order’ (24).

‘To use a technical term, hulders are “folk belief beings”. They are the only Norwegian folk belief beings who appear as so-called “collective beings”. They live in families, and according to tradition, their lives are described as a mirror image of human family life. In many ways, hulders are the personifications of the human dream. They have more of everything that humans have …[25] The only they do not have that humans do is the hope for eternal life’ (24-5). ‘Svale Solheim characterizes hulders as destructive in the same way as robbers, outlaws, and wild animals. We would modify this somewhat. Basically, hulders are a superior power in relation to humans, not a destructive power. According to tradition, there are rules about how humans should deal with hulders. If these rules are broken, the hulders punish. But if rules are observed, or a favor is done for the hulders, then they reward’ (25). A clearly defined category: ‘What is important for humans is that by keeping the traditional rules they maintain harmony with this superior force’ (25). This reading opposes very neatly the idea of supernatural figures as ambiguous. Rather like Efnisien, in fact. And the if you don’t go to bed the bogey-man will get you principle (NB monsters cannot penetrate a duvet). They play by the rules, albeit perhaps harsh ones.

2 kinds of witch—rich and successful, wandering vagabond. latter more common (25). ‘Te poorest and most derelict part of the population were those who most often were accused of witchcraft in Norway in the 1500s and 1600s’ (25). Destructive 25-6. ‘In contrast to hulders, wich [sic] were found in nature and “outside the home”, witches were together with humans—closer than one might believe. They represent the powers of chaos on the offensive’ (26). Hmm, do ælfe move between these categories during their existence? Kind of like the embodiment of monsters progression—except reversed with ælfe in OE medical tradition (human-looking race becomes formless demons?). High medieval elves working just like hulders? ‘The category of witches is more ambiguous than that of hulders, and they are thus perceived as being more dangerous. A witch is a human and a demon at the same time, belonging to two worlds. A witch looks like any other human, and therefore cannot be recognized on sight. They are only first recognized by their actions, and by then the damage may already have been done … Also, an important difference in folk attitudes is related to the degree to which the categories of hulder and witch may be neutralized. Hulders cannot be neutralized in the long run. They are made to disappear by quoting from the Bible, or by touching them. But at the next moment there they are again, behind the nearest bush. Witches can be neutralized. Witch burning ought to be sufficient evidence of this point…’ (26). Both cause misfortune tho’; ‘The misfortune is often related to the basis of existence’ (26). ‘The concept of the ability to cast spells has as a precondition a concept of an evil mind, which often may be seen as envy’ (28), which correlates with accusations being levelled at the poorest, see (26) ‘Svale Solheim also touches on situations where witchcraft provides explanations of misfortune and accidents. This is when those who have nothing meet those who have. The concept of witchcraft becomes relevant where the distribution of limited goods is most out of balance. Limited goods, envy, and the casting spells are interrelated’ (28). But NB rich get accused sometimes to. Neighbours usually also: limited goods conceived to circulate in a limited neighbourhood (28).

Theory of ‘limited good’ (refs 29). Concept that all things of value are limited, and the sum of good fortune constant—but distribution varies (29). Folks have to negotiate within this, seeming not to have too much and to be seen to be generous etc. maintenance of status quo all important (29-30). ‘Private initiative and diligence could lead to being suspected of witchcraft. But there was one possibility, according to Foster: one’s good fortune could be obtained outside (local) society’ (30). Treasure from mound-breaking into otherworld presumably meet this, even if not in distant land. Also shows importance of getting bride from outside court—fights over women in Arthurian bit? Arthur and Lancelot; Amis and Amiloun? All those jealous stewards? Witches can destroy goods (good fortune, etc.) so that none has them (30); deprive neighbours to enrich themselves, both individually and from whole community (30-1). Folklore hereof, mainly concerned with stealing/reducing milk/butter/cream yields 31-2. NB as with the east Anglian horse folklore the importance of control/harm re animals as well as people. Revenge motifs (again us. re livestock) 33. ‘Attitudes to witchcraft also emerge in situations where admiration is expressed. Because there was a fear of envy, people did not like it if a stranger praised their children or their domestic animals. There was considered to be little distance between praising something and wanting to have it. It was said that the sweeter the “evil tongue” was, the worse the consequences. To protect oneself against false friendship, one could respond with harsh words or an oath. The exposure of evil intent could reduce the power of the effect of envy’ (33) might explain a lot of grumpy saga characters. Also Þórgunna stuff? ‘Strangers were not supposed to have access to the unbaptized child. No one from the outside was allowed to see the infant being tended or fed because of the fear of spells being cast and of the fear of a particularly illness, rickets (“horeskjæver”). Rickets was manifested by discontent, and people thought it was caused when an immoral woman simply looked at the infant’ (34). Cf. baby getting zapped in Guðmundar saga when parents go for a shag.

‘There is a difference in the way hulders and witches punish. Even though both forms of punishment are severe, being aimed at essential values, it still seems as though the hulder’s punishment is more acceptable, since it is related to a stricter set of rules for law and order: Hulders [sic] attack because there is a reason to attack; witches attack for no reason’ (34). Elves start off bound by rules and in medical texts moved into being bound by divine intent, but, like witches, not by rules? ‘The names of such diseases as hulder bite, hulder burn, and hulder love tell us that people had related various disorders to contact with the hulders’ (34). Hulder bit a pain or sore that won’t weal 34-5; burn affects cattle—they get lost and come back with sores or changes in its coat (35); love a consumptive illness caused by meeting (implicitly sex?) with hulder (35). Need to follow Hulder rules, e.g.s etc (35-6). ‘The tradition about hulders says a great deal about borders and categories in the peasant society. As long as people stuck to the rules, the hulders were there as an invisible superior force, seeing to it that everything was as it should be. But if the rules were broken, suddenly the hulders became a visible superior force, punishing transgressors in the vital areas of health, production and reproduction. Hulders became visible for humans in the ambiguous areas, in the transitional parts of the conceptual world, where they are an important superior force’ (36). Big assocs with summer farms—marginal territories (36-8). ‘The mountain summer farm was filled with tension because it could be perceived as being both home and not-home. During the summer, this farm was home for the farm people, but at other times it was seen as home for the hulders. Staying at the summer farm longer than was considered correct could have severe consequences’ (37). Day/Night too i guess; Xmas; etc.

‘It happened about 1800. A woman from Heidi in Seljord was on the way to church to have her baby, a little girl, baptised. She took a short-cut with the baby. For some reason, she laid the baby on the ground and went behind a bush for just a moment. / When she came back and was about to pick up the baby, she was completely terrified—she didn’t recognize the baby. Her beautiful little girl had become so ugly that it was dreadful to see. Then the woman realised that the hulders had come and exchanged the baby. But she couldn’t do anything about this, so she took the baby to the church and had it baptised, and didn’t say a word to anyone about what had happened. [39] / The baby grew up; it was a girl, but not really human. She lived long, was nearly 100 when she did’ trans. by authors, quoted from Kjetil A. Flatin, Tussar og trolldom, Norsk Folkeminnelags skrifter, 21 (Oslo, 1930), p. 22 (38-9). Before a woman is blessed again after childbirth she is marginal, ‘ “impure and heathen” ’; NB re heiðni barnit or whatever it was. the danger of hulders, esp. of newborns or women just given birth, actually helps to define the rite of passage. Puts supernatural seal on it, etc.

‘Many analyses have emphasized that the function of folk belief is t maintain norms and rules in society. The violation of norms is sanctioned by supranormal forces and beings, and the violation of norms brings to the fore belief in the supranormal. This belief in supranormal beings can function as social control (see for example Honko 1962)’ (40). Cf. 40-41. Solheim 1952: 371 on the same thing. ‘The building of new houses was regulated by the hulders. People could not build just anywhere, or make arrangements without taking consideration of both other people and the hulders. If one built on a site where hulders rules, one risked certain retributions which in turn affected the well-being of the farm. The only solution was to move the house’ (41).

‘We began this article by questioning the conceptual borders of the category “folk medicine”. Our analysis has been aimed at expanding these borders, in order to bring forth a different—and in our opinion—more correct [sic re punct] understanding of the folk perception of illness and treatment’ (41). ‘In our view, there is a relationship between health, production and reproduction, all central values both for the single individual and for society as a system. In the last instance, these three central values represent the core of the issue. Balance between health, production and reproduction is necessary if “complete fortune” is to be achieved; should misfortune occur in one of these areas, the consequence is disharmony. These values can be threatened when society’s order is violated—thus supranormal punishment becomes a part of social control. Folk attitudes towards illness can be placed within this complex of attitudes’ (42). The distinctions drawn here ought to be apparent in Thomas, R&DofM too, cf. c. 611.

*Alver, Bente Gullveig and Torunn Selberg, ‘Trends in Research on Folk Medicine in the Nordic Countries’, Ethnologia Scandinavica (1987), 59-70.

Amies, Marion, ‘The Journey Charm: A Lorica for Life’s Journey’, Neophilologus, 67 (1983), 448–62. Worries about the reading of some bit with seraphim otherwise shows that although ‘certainly’ originally re jounreys, could be understood as a lorica 448–52. NBs that sigegealdor has ME reflexes which are pejorative assoc with witchcraft. Amies neophil [P700.c.136]

*Amodio, Mark C., ‘Introduction: Oral Poetics in Post-Conquest England’, in Oral Poetics in Middle English Poetry, ed. by Mark C. Amodio, Albert Bates Lord Studies in Oral Tradition, 13 (New York: Garland, 1994), pp. 1–28.

Amodio, Mark C., ‘Introduction: Unbinding Proteus’, in New Directions in Oral Theory, ed. by Mark C. Amodio, Medieval and Renaissance Texts and Studies, 287 (Tempe, Arizona: Arizona Center for Medieval and Renaissance Studies, 2005), pp. 1–13. 2005 A. Names as dead important: OT 17.1 and 17.2 (2002); Richard Martin, The Language of Heroes (sociolinguistic stuff on Iliad speeches); Foley Traditional Oral Epic and Immanent Art; O’Keeffe. Emphs shift from formalism of Parry-Lord to ‘rhetorical and affective dynamics’. Stock, Listening for the Text. ‘There is, of course, tension between the oral and literate worlds, tension that even now at the beginning of the twenty-first century we continue to experience every day all around us; but it is a necessary, enriching and perhaps even sustaining tension, not the debilitating or distracting one it was sometimes thought to be. To put this another way, even in our highly literate Western culutre literacy is far from universal, and even the most highly literate members of our culture must nevertheless continually navigate their way through the layers of oral/aural culture that surround, inform, and help define contemporary Western (literate) culture. From our literate perspective it is easy to forget that the same holds true of oral culture, however broadly or narrowly one wishes to define it: literates may have easier and more direct access to the world of orality than non-literatures have to the world of literacy, but non-literates encounter literate culture [4] everywhere and the (oral) world they inhabit is necessarily infused with and to a considerable extent shaped by literacy and its attendant practices and habits of mind’ (4–5).

Amodio, Mark C., ‘Res(is)ting the Singer: Towards a Non-Performative Anglo-Saxon Oral Poetics’, in New Directions in Oral Theory, ed. by Mark C. Amodio, Medieval and Renaissance Texts and Studies, 287 (Tempe, Arizona: Arizona Ceenter for Medieval and Renaissance Studies, 2005), pp. 179–208. 2005B.

Amodio, Mark C., Writing the Oral Tradition: Oral Poetics and Literate Culture in Medieval England (Notre Dame, Indiana: University of Notre Dame Press, 2004). Lots of perfectly good points, but problems with seeing orality as only oral-formulaic and contrasts with modernity. Speech must antedate writing but the inevitable succession of writing to orality not obvious (1–2). Vs the great divide model of orality and literacy 2–3. ‘As theoretical postulates, the end points of the oral-literate continuum retain considerable heuristic value for the investigation of human cognition and development, and with this in mind we now turn to consider them. But as we do so, we need t guard against uncritically accepting the notion of primary orality because it “is forever inaccessible to us (if it is not purely mythical)”. And we need to keep in mind that the same is true of pure literacy’ (4). Oral poetry as ‘inherently dynamic and ephemeral’; ‘Residing only within the collective memory of those present while it is performed, an oral poem leaves no trace once the final reverberations of the poet’s voice die [5] out. Necessarily composed (and recomposed) under the exigencies of performance, the poetry produced within a primary oral culture is, therefore highly protean’ (4–5). What’s so crap about collective memory that it can hold no trace of a poem? Likewise, skaldic verse isn’t recomposed. ‘Within a fully literate culture, both the production and reception of texts are intensely private, highly idiosyncratic, and highly unconventional (in the most technical sense of the term) endeavours’ (5)--contrast the saga where someone hears a poem and goes off and works out what it means where no-one else does? ‘...while orally produced texts are rooted in a highly specialized, conventional idiom, one shared by both poets and audiences, fully literate texts spring from the imaginative well of [6] authors who carefully mold their thoughts according to their tastes, inclinations, experiences, and abilities’ (5–6). Goes on to argue that oral poets have intentions too (thankfully) and that there is individual artistry—tradition not static (7), poets are the traditions (7), how they’re transmitted doesn’t affect what they mean (7), but seems to do so within the position established in this quote. ‘Traditional oral poetics is expressed through a specialized register, a remarkably economical, useful tool for expressing verbl art that no doubt developed as an aid to oral poets who had to compose rapidly during performance’ (8): clear statement that he thinks of oral poetry strictly in the Parry-Lord model. Why not just to help memory? And is it even always there) (As usual, skaldic verse doesn’t fit this well). ‘For the literate poet, composition remains an exclusively private and internal rather than public and communal process’ (8)--really? Footnote for this is rubbish. ‘Unlike their oral counterparts, who are unable to revise or correct metrical deficiencies or narraive infelicities because for them the acts of composition and presentation are simultaneous, literate poets have the leisure to dwell over every aspect of their creations’ (8) grrrr—both because of skaldic verse, and because it ignores the potential importance of repeated performance. Cf. the Finnegan account of an african storyteller getting more consistent in his telling over the years. Useful point that all readers individually produce the text as they real, as presumably do listeners—but that in reading, the basis for this is static (8–9). 10 accepts that just as you’d be hard put to find a purely oral society these days, a purely literate society is just a heuristic construct. He seems to think it’s a useful construct anyway, but I’m less sure. Even when he gets to ‘Textuality, Poetic Authority, and Literacy: Problematizing Oral Theory’ (12–15), HE SAYS THINGS LIKE ‘Oral poetry, in contrast, deries its authority from a very different course. While it is necessarily performative and so depends upon a poetics of presence, its authority paradixically does not derive mainly from the poets who articulate it. Just as meaning in traditional poetry inheres in the structures that constitute its expressive economy, so, too, does an oral poem’s authority lie chiefly in the tectonics of the tradition itself rather than in the person of the poet. Oral poets are responsible for the unique shape they give to their traditional, inherited materials, but they stake no claim to any sort of originary status’ (14). Skaldic verse again? I guess no-one says ‘I invented this myth’, but all the same... And if poets are not saying ‘I invented this’ but ‘this is how it is/was’, that’s not inherently oral—it’s a feature of genres which claim to be historical/factual. ‘Each piece of verbal art produced withn an oral culture is as authoritative as any other’ (14). Obviously rubbish. Cf. flytings. Though Downes’s article on Beowulf and Unferth does nicely show the usefulness of anthropological evidence—traditionality more useful than orality? ‘Because Latin’s status as a prestige language was unchallenged in both the secular and ecclesiastical spheres throughout the perod [ASE], its relationship to the vernacular is generally cast in terms of a simple and strict polarity ... Latin was the language of discourse among members of monastic and other religious communities...’ (16) dis in Bede article? ‘Whether the oral poet is one who (re)composes in performance, recites verbatim from memory, or reads aloud from a written text, the poem and the tradition body forth upon his voice. Unlike written texts, which continue “frequently to speak without voice the words of the absent”, oral texts exist only so long as they are embodied in a living voice’ (23)--a. ah, so he does believe in memorial transmission of oral work; b. why doesn’t memory count as a way for oral texts to exist?

Amos, Ashley Crandell, Linguistic Means of Determining the Dates of Old English Literary Texts, Medieval Academy Books, 90 (Cambridge, Mass.: Medieval Academy of America, 1980).

Amours, F.J. (ed.), The Original Chronicle of Andrew of Wyntoun: Printed on Parallel Pages from the Cottonian and Wemyss MSS., with the Variants of the Other Texts, The Scottish Text Society, 1st series, 50, 53, XXXX, 56–57, 63, 6 vols (Edinburgh: Blackwood, 1903–14).Gah, vol 4 missing and that’s the important one!!

*Amundsen, Darrel W., Medicine, Society, and Faith in the Ancient and Medieval Worlds (London, 1996) [med. z280 1996-A]. Collected essays job, some look cool.

Anderson, Carl XXXX

Anderson, Earl R., ‘The Uncarpentered World of Old English Poetry’, Anglo-Saxon England, 20 (1991), 65–80. 72–3 goes with Shook re Glc A beorg. Didn’t find it very useful or quoteworthy.

*Anderson, Earl R. TitleFolk-Taxonomies in Early EnglishAuthor(s)Earl R AndersonPublisherFairleigh Dickinson Univ PressPublication DateApr 1, 2003SubjectLanguage Arts / Linguistics / LiteracyFormatHardcoverPages592ISBN083863916X “A folk-taxonomy is a semantic field that represents the particular way in which a language imposes structure and order upon the myriad impressions of human experience and perception. Thus, for example, the experience of color in modem English is structured around an inventory of twelve "basic" color terms; but languages vary in the number of basic color terms used, from thirteen or fourteen terms to as few as two or three. Anthropological linguists have been interested in the comparative study of folk-taxonomies across contemporary languages, and in their studies they have sometimes proposed evolutionary models for the development and elaboration of these taxonomies. The evolutionary models have implications for historical linguistics, but there have been very few studies of the historical development of a folk-taxonomy within a language or within a language family. Folk-Taxonomies in Early English undertakes this task for English, and to some extent for the Germanic and Indo-European language families. The semantic fields studied are basic color terms, seasons of the year, geometric shapes, the five senses, the folk-psychology of mind and soul, and basic plant and animal life-forms. Anderson's emphasis is on folk-taxonomies in Old and Middle English, and also on the implications of semantic analysis for our reading of early English literary texts.” on Google print.

Anderson, J. G. C. (ed.) Cornelii Taciti: De Origine et Situ Germanorum (Oxford, 1938). XXXXstyle. MSS all derive from fragmentary Hersfeld MS C9 or 10, in Iesi Codex (lxii). > X, Y Z > extant MS recensions. App contains nothing from Germ, only Agric. ‘Auriniam W [Vindobonensis 1862] m [Monacensis 5307] h [Hummelianus] V [Vaticanus 1862] L [Leidensis (Perizonianus)] I [Vaticanus 1518] E [Aesinas, Lat. 8]; Albriniam Δ [Vaticanus 4498] et in mg.[margine] vel s.l.[supra lineam] V[Vaticanus 1862] L [Leidensis (Perizonianus)] N [Neapolitanus IV C. 21 (Farnesianus)] E (Aesinas, Lat. 8); Fluriniam N [Neapolitanus IV C. 21 (Farnesianus)]: Albrunam Wackernagel’ (no page nos). ‘All the extant manuscripts are of the fifteenth or the early sixteenth centuy’ (lxiv). Hmm, you need a better ed. than this or Much to explain MSS.

Anderson, O. S. (ed.), Old English Material in the Leningrad Manuscript of Bede’s Ecclesiastical History, Skrifter utgivna av kungl. humanistika vetenskapssamfundet i Lund/Acta Regiae Societatis Humaniorum Litterarum Lundensis, 31 (Lund, 1941). [500:05.c.7.24 NF3] re names 67–

*Andersson, Eva, The Common Thread: Textile Production during the Late Iron Age—Viking Age (Lund, 1999).

Andersson, Theodore M., ‘An Interpretation of Þiðreks saga’, in Structures and Meaning in Old Norse Literature, ed. bu John Lindow, Lars Lönnroth and Gerd Wolfgang Weber, (Odense: Odense University Press, 1986), pp. 347–77. [752:16.c.95.28]

Andersson, Theodore M. “Five Saga Books for a New Century”, Journal of English and Germanic Philology, 103 (2004): 505–28

Andersson, Theodore M., The Growth of the Medieval Icelandic Sagas (1180–1280) (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 2006)

Andersson, Thorsten, ‘Orts- und Personennamen als Aussagequelle für die altgermanische Religion’, in Germanische Religionsgeschichte: Quellen und Quellenprobleme, ed. by Heinrich Beck, Detlev Ellmers and Kurt Schier, Ergänzungsbände zum Reallexicon der Germanischen Altertumskunde, 5 (Berlin: de Gruyter, 1992), pp. 508–40. ‘Als Erstglied theophorer Personennamen kommen gemeingermanisch die beiden Götterbezeichnungen *guða- ‘Gott’ und *ansu- ‘Ase’ häufig vor … Dagegen bezieht sich *ragina-, das z. B. in wgot. Ragnahilda, fränk. Ragnovald, awn. Ragnarr, Ragn(h)eiðr vorleigt, eher auf die gemeingermanische Bedeutung “Rat” als auf die nordische Bedeutung de Plurals, nämlich “Götter” ’ (509 citing in the latter case Janzén 1947, 87; Müller 1970, 197). NB OE Regen- (occurrence in lexical words?). ‘Gemeingermanisch sind auch die Ing-Namen …[510] Interessant ist, daß dieser Name in der altschwedischen Form Ingi-, wie L. Hellberg nachgewiesen hat, in den Landschaften um den Mälarsee in Mittelschweden in mehreren Siedlungsnamen enthalten ist’ (509-10). ‘Kennzeichnend für den nordischen Personennamenschatz ist, daß auch Namen einzelner Götter als Erstglied auftreten’ (Characteristically for the Norse personal name formation is that names also appear characteristically with gods as first elements, 510). [Janzén 235-68, 258ff. for this point]. Þórr; is donar etc. in W. Germ continental names the thunder word? 510-11. ‘Der Umstand, daß das Wort in fränk. Albthonar auch als Zweitglied erscheint, entscheidet die Frage, da in dieser Stellung ein Göttername nicht zu erwarten ist’ [in Förstemann Namenbuch] (The circumstance, that this word appears in Frankish Albthonar also as a second element, decides the question… 511). Freyr a secondary development, apparently just Norse then (511). 511-12 re Þór-; seen also as 2ndry, seems to equate it with Ás. Other god-names as 1st elements in Norse 512-15. No discussion of dís or álfr.herman

Notes –run(a) names, esp. re priestess figures as found in, e.g. Tacitus: ‘Diese Funktion liegt sicherlich in demn Zweitglied –run(a) vor, das “Geheimnis, geheime Kenntis” bedeutet. Interessant ist dabei, daß der häufigste der mit –rún zusammengesetzen Namen im Nordischen Guðrún ist und daß dieser Name deshalb wahrscheinlich als Vorbild der anderen Namen gedient hat. In Guðrún scheint eine appellativisch sinnvolle Zusammensetzung vorzuliegen, und zwar ein Bahuvrīhi-Kompositum mit der Bedeutung “eine, die die Geheimnisse oder die geheimen Kenntisse der Götter besitzt”.’ (521). Citing Janzén 110ff., 166.

‘Schließlich ist hier auf eine feminine Sonderbezeichnung hinzuweisen, nämlich awn. dís, womit weiblichne Gottheiten und übernatürliche Frauengestalten bezeichnet werden. Dieses Wort kommt vereinzelt in einigen Ortsnamen in Norwegen und Schweden vor, z. B. Disen (< -vin “Weise, Weide”) bzw. disevid (< -vi “Heiligtum” …). Auffallend ist, daß dís auch als Personenname und als Zweitglied von Personennamen (vgl. Oðindisa…) verkommt. Da ja Götterbezeichnungen in dieser Stellung sonst vermieden werden, deutet dies auf einen etwas niedrigeren Rang der dísir oder aber auf eine parallele, nicht-sakrale Bedeutung des Wortes’ (526). Citing Sandnes 1990, 91; Ström 1985, 192ff.

‘Wenn es sich um Örtlichkeiten begrenzteren Umfangs handelt, liegt es nahe, Kultstätten zu vermuten. in sakralen Ortsnamen oft begegnende Wörter wie akr, lundr, under (besonders in Norwegen) vangr bezeichnen zweifellos oft alte Kutstätten … Begrenzte Örtlichkeiten mit Sakralnamen lassen aber keinesfalls durchgehend auf eigentliche Kultstätten schließen. Wärend z. B. Disevid (aschw. Disavi) in Östergötland eine Kultstätte der dísir bezeichnet, läßt sich nicht eindeutig eintscheiden, wie Diseberg (aschw. Disabærgh) in derselben Landschaft zu verstehen ist. Hier mag Disevid vergleichbare Kultstätte gelegen haben, aber es kann sich auch einfach um einem Berg handeln, der mit den besagten Gottheiten verknüpft und deshalb verehrt wurde’ (536). No refs sadly. Nor elves anywhere here.

André, Jacues, Les Noms de Plantes dans la Rome Antique (Paris: Société D’Édition ‘Les Belles Lettres’, 1985)

*Andrén, Anders, ‘Doors to Other Worlds: Scandinavian Death Rituals in Gotlandic Perspectives’, Journal of European Archaeology, 1 (1993), 33–55. preseumably=Andrén, A., ‘Dörrar till förgångna myter—en tolkning av de gotländska bildstenara’, in Medeltids födelse, ed. by A. Andrén, Symposier på Krapperups Borg, 1 (Lund, 1989), pp. 287–319.

Ankarloo, Bengt and Gustav Henningsen (eds), Early Modern European Witchcraft: Centres and Peripheries (Oxford, 1990). looks like it’ll have some interesting articles.

Ankarloo, Bengt, ‘Witch Trials in Northern Europe, 1450–1700’, in Witchcraft and Magic In Europe: The Period of the Witchc Trials, by Bengt Ankarloo, Stuart Clark and William Monster, The Athlone History of Witchcraft and Magic in Europe, 4 (London: Athlone, 2002), pp. 53–95

Anlezark, Daniel, ‘An Ideal Marriage: Abraham and Sarah in Old English Literature’, Medium Ævum, 69 (2000), 187–210

*Åqvist, C., ‘Hall och harg: det rituella rummet’, in Religion från stenålder till medeltid, ed. by K. Engdahl and A. Kaliff, Riksantikvarieämbetet: arkeologiska undersökningar, skrifter, 19 (Linkping, 1996), pp. 105–20.

*Arbessmann, Rudolf, ‘The Daemonium Meridianum and Greek and Latin Patristic Exegesis’, Traditio, 14 (1958), 17–31.

*Archibald, Elizabeth, Incest and the Medieval Imagination (Oxford, 2001).

d’Ardenne, S. R. T. O., Þe Liflade ant te Passiun of Seinte Iuliene, Early English Text Society, 248 (Oxford, 1961).

Arent‚ A. Margaret, ‘The Heroic Pattern: Old Germanic Helmets‚ Beowulf and Grettis saga’‚ in Old Norse Literature and Mythology: A Symposium‚ ed. by Edgar C. Polomé (Austin‚ 1969)‚ pp. 130–99. (pp. 132–45)

Argyll: An Inventory of the Ancient Monuments, The Royal Commission on the Ancient and Historical Monuments of Scotland, 7 vols ([Edinburgh]: HMSO, 1971–92)

Arnold, C. J., An Archaeology of the Early Anglo-Saxon Kingdoms, 2nd ed. (London: Routledge, 1997)

Arnold, Thomas (ed.), Symeonis Monachi opera omnia, The Rolls Series, 75XXXX, 2 volsXXXX (London: Her Majesty’s Stationery Office, 1882–85) ?R542.30.75

D’Aronco, Maria Amalia, ‘The Botanical Lexicon of the Old English Herbarium’, Anglo-Saxon England, 17 (1988), 5-33. BORING!

Ármann Jakobsson, ‘History of the Trolls? Bárðar saga as an Historical Narrative’, Saga-Book of the Viking Society, 25 (1998), 53–71. ‘history or fiction?’ 53–60. ‘In fact, very little of what was regarded as history in the Middle Ages would pass muster in our age, e.g. Historia regum Britanniae by Geoffrey of Monmouth’ (54). Disses ‘supernatural’ as paradoxical (54–55).

Ármann Jakobsson, ‘Queens of Terror: Perilous Women in Hálfs saga and Hrólfs saga kraka’, in Fornaldarsagornas struktur och ideologi: Handlingar från ett symposium i Uppsala 31.8–2.9 2001, ed. by Ármann Jakobsson, Annette Lassen and Agneta Ney, Nordiska texter och undersökningar, 28 (Uppsala: Uppsala Universitet, Institutionen för nordiska språk, 2003), pp. 173–89.

Ármann Jakobson, ‘The Extreme Emotional Life of Vo[XXXXXhooked o]lundr the Elf’, Scandinavian Studies, 227-54 (2006) ‘It is also a pervasive belief—unsubstantiated by any factual examination—that brutality is a more prominent feature of the past than the present and that in the past people would have been less shocked and moved by violence’ (243)--but contrast sudy of murder rates in Freakonomics.

Armstrong, A. M., A. Mawer, F. M. Stenton and Bruce Dickins, The Place-Names of Cumberland, English Place-Names Society, 20–22, 3 vols (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1950–52)

Arne, XXXX, Motif-Index of Folk-Literature: A Classification of Narrative Elements in Folktales, Ballads, Myths, Fables, Mediaeval Romances, Exempla, Fabliaux, Jest-Books and Local Legends, rev. edn by Stith Thompson (repr. London, 1966) XXXX

Arrhenius, Birgit, ‘Kinship and Social Relations in the Early Medieval Period in Svealand Elucidated by DNA’, in The Scandinavians from the Vendel Period to the Tenth Century: An Ethnographic Perspective, ed. by Judith Jesch, Studies in Historical Archaeoethnicity, 5 (Woodbridge: Boydell, 2002), pp. 45–58 (discussion 51–58).

Arwill-Nordbladh, Elisabeth, Genuskonstruktioner i nordisk vikingatid: Förr och nu, Gotarc: Gothenburg Archaeological Theses, Series B, 9 ([Gothenburg]: Gotarc, 1998). Glanced only at the english summary due to haste. Mainly historiographical and then Oseberg. Looks decent though.

Ásgeir Blöndal Magnússon, Íslensk orðsifjabók ([Reykjavík]: Orðabók Háskólans, 1989)

*Ashmore, W. and A. B. Knapp, Archaeologies of Landscape: Contemporary Perspectives (Oxford, 1999)

* Ashcroft, Bill, 'Forcing Newness into the World: Language, Place and Nature', Ariel, 36 (2005), 93-110. English A-0.01 ARI. Holly Mcindoe wrote about this for research methods--it looks pretty cool and interesting re language change and place-names and that kind of thing.

Asmark, Ulla, 'Magikyndige kvinder i islændingesagaerne--terminologi, værdiladning og kausalitet', Arkiv för nordisk filologi, 121 (2006), 113-20. Only read the abstract, but she seems to be arguing that if you're fjölkunnigr that's not necessarily bad, and that men who get cursed by witches often have that problem because of their own violence towards the woman, suggesting that 'violence towards a woman makes a man loose [sic] his honour and thus leads to unhapiness and even death. From this point of view it is the killing rather than the curse, [sic] that causes the man's disaster' [113 n. 1]. Not sure what she means here, but sounds interesting--follow up.

*Aston, Michael and Carenza Lewis, The Medieval Landscape of Wessex, Oxbow Monograh, 46 (Oxford: Oxbow, 1994)

Åström, Berit, ‘The Creation of the Anglo-Saxon Woman’, Studia Neophilologica 70 (1998), 25–34. Pretty pants really. ‘The focus of this article is on the study of pagan Anglo-Saxons, and particularly the creation of the image of women in pagan Anglo-Saxon society. I will try to demonstrate what happens where there is no questioning of the basis of the assumptions made about Anglo-Saxon society. Some of the research quoted is not recent, simply because the field has been neglected in recent years. The issue is seen as closed, the matter is seen as resolved’ (26). Oh, shut up.

Atherton, M. , ‘The Figure of the Archer in Beowulf and the Anglo-Saxon Psalter’, Neophilologus, 77 (1993), 653–57. Handy for psalmy refs to arrows.

Atkinson, Charles M., ‘O AMNOS TU THEU: The Greek Agnus Dei in the Roman Liturgy from the Eighth to the Eleventh Century’, Kirchenmusikalische Jahrbuch, 68 (1981), 7–30.

*Atkinson, David, ‘“Up then Spoke a Bonny Bird” of Lady Isabel’s Secret: Transformation in “The Outlandish Knight”’, Southern Folklore 52 no. 3 (1995), 231-48

Aubailly, Jean-Claude, La fée et le chevalier: essai de mythanalyse de quelques lais féeriques des XIIe et XIIIe siècles, Collection Essais, 10 (Paris: Champion, 1986).

Austin, Greta, ‘Marvelous Peoples or Marvelous Races? Race and the Anglo-Saxon Wonders of the East’, in Marvels, Monsters, and Miracles: Studies in the Medieval and Early Modern Imaginations, ed. by Timothy S. Jones and David A. Sprunger, Studies in Medieval Culture, 42 (Kalamazoo: Medieval Institute Publications, 2002), pp. 25–51. Focuses only on the Tiberius text—has Lat and OE and pictures. ‘It is worth pausing to note that the Wonders conceives of the human body in a manner different from modern conceptions of it. I would suggest that we tend today to think of a clear division between human beings and animals. In the Wonders, however, the human body could be shaded by relative degrees of humanity and “bestiality”. certain peoples might have bodies which brought together combinations of himan and animal…’ (41, cf. 41–52 citing Isidore too). Emphs how enarly everyone called homines and us. depicted speaking 42–43. But alas, response to the question a bit half-baked really. Syas they’re all humans really.

Austin, Greta, ‘Jurisprudence in the Service of Pastoral Care: The Decretum of Burchard of Worms’, Speculum, 79 (2004), 929–59

Avis, James, ‘Policing the Subject: Learning Outcomes, Managerialism and Research in PCET’, British Journal of Educational Studies, 48.1 (March 2000), 38–57, DOI: 10.1111/1467-8527.00132. Didn’t read this properly but looks very stimulating.

B

Baetke, Walter, Yngvi und die Ynglinger: Eine quellenkritische Untersuchung über das nordische ‘Sakralkönigtum’, Sitzungsberichte de sächsischen Akademie der Wissenschaften zu Leipzig, Philologisch-historische Klasse, 109/3 (Berlin: Akademie-verlag, 1964). [P500.c.110.57 NF 3]

*Bailey, Michael D., ‘The Medieval Concept of the Witches’ Sabbath’, Exemplaria, 8 (1996), 419–39; tackles Ginsburg 1991 esp. pp. 424–26.

Bailey, Michard D., ‘From Sorcery to Witchcraft: Clerical Conceptions of Magic in the Later Middle Ages’, Speculum, 76 (2001), 960–90. ‘Over the course of roughly one hundred years, from the early fourteenth century to the early fifteenth, heightened clerical concern over harmful sorcery and changing understandings of how magic operated combined with other factors to push authorities slowly but inexorably into accepting, defining, and promulgating the full horrors of witchcraft’ (961)--article basically about unpacking this in more detail; intellectual history approach. Read the first bits; seems to be case-studies of several dudes, starting with Bernardo Gui. Looks okay but nother very exciting. Good to say you’ve read it though.

Bailey, Richard N., ‘Scandinavian Myth on Viking-Period Stone Sculpture in England’, in Old Norse Myths, Literature and Society: Proceedings of the 11th International Saga Conference, 2–7 July 2000, University of Sydney, ed. by Geraldine Barnes and Margaret Clunies Ross (Sydney, 2000), 15–23. [Also at http://www.arts.usyd.edu.au/departments/medieval/saga.html] A bit of discussion of how Gosfroth isn’t syncretic and otherwise some updating. Might be handy for secondary lit too.

Baker, John T., Cultural Transition in the Chilterns and Essex Region, 350 AD to 650 AD, University of Hertford Press Studies in Regional and Local History, 4 (Hatfield: University of Hertfordshire Press, 2006). I've just skimmed it cherry picking bits that seem handy for place-name continuity discussion--need to come back it. Basically it's about correlating arch and place-names; doesn't seem deeply to register the concerns raised by Hills in the Higham Britons book about arch distribution being more about modern building than medieval distribution; not aware of the work on -ingas names actually maybe being old like they always used to be. Maps all topographic names, and then only those the elements attested in Cox's early names article (with a couple of additions); 'It is clear from the two maps of topographical place-names that there is no precise correlation between their distribution and that of the Germanic archaeology. This ma mean that topographical place-names are a less effective indicator of early Old English influence than current theories would suggest, always assuming that the spread of linguistic and material cultures are in some way linked together' (198); 'Having looked in detail at Old English topographical place-names it is difficult to draw firm conclusion about their worth as indicators of early Old English influence in the Chilterns and Essex region. Individually the elements are often too sparse in number for a true pattern to emerge; grouped together the picture produced by the topographical elements is unclear. This is due in part to the longevity of some of these supposedly early elements. Even if they were the first elements used by Old English place-name givers, their usage seems to have continued into the middle and later Anglo-Saxon periods. It may also be a weakness of a local study of this kind that individual elements are too few in number to display characteristics of much value' (216). Re hám names, notes that three C7 names have been lost and that 'If this case is not exceptional, then it may explain the lack of hám[actually macron] clusters to the west, especially in Buckinhamshire and Bedfordshire, since these counties are not represented by early records' (221). 222 names like -hamstead more scattered distribution than -ham names--interesting. Marginal settlements?

Bakhtin, Mikhail, Rabelais and his World, trans. by Helene Iswolsky (Bloomington, 1984) [738.27.c.95.40]. ‘A boundless world of humorous forms and manifestations opposed the official and serious tone of medieval ecclesiastical and feudal culture’ (4).

Ballard, Linda-Mary, ‘Fairies and the Supernatural on Reachrai’, in The Good People: New Fairylore Essays, ed. by Peter Narváez, Garland Reference Library of the Humanities, 1376 (New York: Garland, 1991), pp. 47–93.

*Bamberger, Bernard J., Fallen Angels (New York, 1952)

Bamberger, Joan, ‘The Myth of Matriarchy: Why Men Rule in Primitive Society’, in Woman, Culture and Society, ed. by Michelle Zimbalist Rosaldo and Louise Lamphere (Stanford, 1974), pp. 263–80. ‘To cast doubt, as I have just done, on the historical evidence for the Rule of Women is not the same thing as challenging the significance of the mythologies of matriarchy. The main issue would seem not to be [267] whether women did or did not hold positions of political importance at some point in prehistory, or even whether they took up weapons and fought in battle as the Amazons allegedly did, but that there are myths claiming women did these things, which they now no longer do’ (266-67). ‘Myth and rituals have been misinterpreted as persistent reminders that women once has, and then lost, the eat of power. This loss accrued to them through inappropriate conduct … The myths constantly reiterate that women did not know how to handle power when they had it. The loss is thereby justified so long as women choose to accept the myth. The Rule of Women, instead of heralding a promising futre, harks back to a past darkened by repeated failures’ (280). ‘Even the Iroquois, once a stronghold for “matriarchists”, turn out to be matrilineal only, although Iroquois society still comes the closest to representing Bachofen’s ideal “gynocratic state”, since Iroquois women played a decisive role in lineage and village politics. Yet in spite of the substantial power wielded by women, men were chosen consistently as political leaders’ (266).

*Bammesberger, A., Problems of Old English Lexicography: Studies in Memory of Angus Cameron, Eichstätter Beiträge, 15 (Regensburg, 1985)

Alfred Bammesberger, Die Morphologie des urgermanischen Nomens, Untersuchungen zur vergleichenden Grammatik der germanischen Sprachen, 2 (Heidelberg, 1990) [775.c.98.257]. 123-27 re history of i-stem inflexions. Cool.

Bammesberger, Alfred, 'The Etymology of Germanic *idis-', Nowele: North-Western European Language Evolution, 52 (2007), 81-89. 'ON dís 'woman, lady, goddess' must not be related etymologically to Gmc. *idis because the two forms do not match phonologically; on dís see Birkhan 1970:535 [Germanen und Kelten bis zum Ausgang der Römerzeit]. Since no generally accepted etymology is available for ON dís the following tentative derivation may be submitted. A stem in -s- to the root *d^hei[syllabification marker looking like an inverted breve under the i]H- 'sehen, schauen' (Pokorny 1959:243, Rix 1998:123 'ins Auge fassen') can be postulated as IE *d^hei[syllabification marker looking like an inverted breve under the i]H-s- and leads to Gmc. *deis- > *di[macron]s-; on filudeisei see in particular Casaretto (2004:286)' (85 n. 5). Argue against a 2000 etymology by Eichner which indeed looks troublesome (because of the -i- in Tacitus's idistauisto--if that is cognate with ides, and because its Gmc root would appear otherwise is OHG etar 'pale in a fence' only; 82). Bammesberger goes for IE *aid^h- (*h₂ei[syllabiciation marker under i]d^h-), 'and *idis may reflect IE *id^h-és- (*h₂id^h-és-) with zero-grade of the root' (83) cognate with Skt. édhas 'firewood' anda Gk word for 'fire, embers'. 'For the s-stem IE *h₂id^h-és- > Gmc. *id-es- > * id-is- the basic meaning can be assumed to have been 'fire, flame, burning' etc.' (83) with some sort of personification, as with Lat ignis meaning fire but also god of fire (84-85), or maybe you could go for the idea that fire defines houses (as in some semantic ev.) and houses define women (cf. domus > domina) (84). Ho hum, hardly ideal, but maybe progress!

Bandle, Oskar (ed.), The Nordic Languages: An International Handbook of the History of the North Germanic Languages, Handbücher zur Sprach- und Kommunikations-wissenschaft, 22, 2 vols (Berlin: de Gruyter, 2002)

*Bang, A. C., Norse Hexeformularer (SVSC II, nr. 1, Kra. 1901–2) ref from KLNM.

Banks, S. E. and J. W. Binns (ed. and trans.), Gervase of Tilbury: ‘Otia Imperialia’, Recreation for an Emperor (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2002). Probably completed c. 1215 (xxxix–xl). III.86 ‘De lamiis et nocturnis laruis’; III.93 ‘De fantasiis nocturnis opiniones’

*Barley, Nigel F., ‘Anglo-Saxon Magico-Medicine’, Journal of the Anthropological Society of Oxford, 3 (1972), 67–76.

Barley, Nigel F., ‘Perspectives on Anglo-Saxon Names’, Semiotica, 11 (1974), 1–31. 1-4 discusses dichotomy between motivated names (e.g. Dartmouth) and unmotivated (e.g. London)noting in fact that rarely will extremes and mutual exclusivity be found. ‘One of the most basic questioned in the study of Anglo-Saxon names has always been whether they are to be regarded as arbitrary or motivated. This, however, is a false formulation of the problem. The regularity of the Anglo-Saxon naming system is such that one cannot speak of arbtrariness. One can only discuss strength of motivation and its internal or external emphasis’ (5). ‘The set of personal names was not closed but the set of morphemes from which they were compounded apparently was’ (5). Names externally motivated by grammatical gender of 2nd element (6). NB names sometimes derive elements from mother’s name as well as tendency to allit with father’s (8). ‘As regards simple repetition of whole names within a family, it seems that for the oldest period, this does not regulary occur among these Anglo-Saxons but it should be admitted that information is somewhat limited. As time goes on, however, we note a distinct tendency towards the replacement of simple alliteration by variation, reduction of the number of elements involves and a subsequently higher number of repetitions’ (9). ‘The discrete morphemes of which the bithematic personal names are formed are linguistically [sic] meaningful and were generally intelligible to the Anglo-Saxons that bore them. This is evident from the attempts of literati to latinise their own names. Thus, Heahstan becomes Alta Petra and Wulfstan simultaneously translates and abbreviates his name to Lupus. The actual linguistic meaning of the syntagmatic constituents plays no part in the motivation of the name, however … (Hence it is most dubious to attempt to use name elements to reconstruct Old English pagan beliefs as does Dickins, 1933)’ (13). Liar! dICKINS NEVER DID! Well, not in terms of syntagmatic relations. Relation to kennings 18-25.

NB Emma becomes Ælfgyfu when she marraies Æþelred of Wessex (dad of Edward the Conf.). Shows power of naming system (9–10). 15 dithematic names as social markers.

Barnicle, Mary Elizabeth (ed.), The Seege or Batayle of Troye: A Middle English Metrical Romance, Early English Text Society, 172 (London: Oxford University Press, 1927). xxx-xxxiii reckons 1st quarter C14 mainly on ev. of arms in the poem.

Barrett, Justin L., and Frank C. Keil, ‘Conceptualizing a Nonnatural Entity: Anthropomorphism in God Concepts’, Cognitive Psychology, 31 (1996), 219–47.

Barrett, Justin L., ‘Cognitive Constraints on Hindu Concepts of the Divine’, Journal for the Scientific Study of Religion, 37 (1998), 608–19

*Barrow, G. W. S., The Kingdom of the Scots (London, 1973)

Bartlett, Robert, ‘Symbolic Meanings of Hair in the Middle Ages’, Transactions of the Royal Historical Society, 6th series, 4 (1994), 43–60.

*Bartlett, Robert, ‘The Miracles of St Modwenna of Burton’, Staffordshire Studies, 8 (1996), 24–26. Two walking corpses, hanging out by Drakelow, wander through village causing plague. Classic stuff and set in 1090s. Haven’t read this article yet.

Bartlett, Robert, England under the Norman and Angevin Kings, 1075–1225 (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 2000)

Bartra, Roger, Wild Men in the Looking Glass: The Mythic Origins of European Otherness, trans. by Carl T. Berrisford (Ann Arbor, 1994). ‘White details the existence of a mythological space inhabited by wild men that are clearly distinguishable from barbarians. In contrast with barbarians, who constituted a threat to society in general and to Greek society as a whole, the wild man represented a threat to the individual. Either a s a possible destiny or nemesis, the wild man reflected a condition of a degenerate individual, far from the city, and fallen from grace. This space was peropled by human and quasi-human mythical wild men, whose links with “normal” humanity differed from the relationship between civilized man and barbarian. White clearly demonstrates that, conventionally, barbarian lands were geographically remote, and the moment of their incursion upon the frontiers of the Greek world would signal an apocalypse: the appearance of hordes of barbarians implied the fracturing of the foundation of the world and the death of an epoch. In contrast the wild man is omnipresent, inhabiting the immediate confines of the community. He is found in the neighbouring forests, mountains and islands’ (14). ‘Centaurs were important elements for structuring the relations between a wild existence nand a civilized life. They formed a myth with twin poles, one as a wild man who was humanoid and the other as a wise and just man who was bestial. Pholus and Chiron represented the nature/culture duality inscribed in the centaur’s intricate character. I further wish to incorporate an element of freat significance in the later evolution of the myth of the wild man. How can a human with wild characteristics (Chiron) represent wisdom and culture, as well as be a great educator of heroes. [sic re punct!] “The answer must lie partly, at least, with the superhuman qualities of nature itself: in the wisdom of birds and other wild creatures, from which seers like Teiresias, Melampus, and Polydus learn of the future.” Not only did nature savagely aassault civilized man, but nature also communicated the signs and symbols of a profound knowledge. This odd link between a wild nature and a prophetic knowledge becomes, as we shall see, a recurring theme under different phases in both the medieval and the modern myth of the wild man’ (16).

23 re maenads—cf. wild hunt.

33ff. re Faunus—parallel to Freyr?

39-40 good parallel to Templar initiaitions.

45ff. re Pilosi saltabunt ibi.

80 druids living in forests as cf. wild man. interesting?

83-4 distinction between man in wild state and wild being (+89-90). Hmm.

Bartrum, P. C., ‘Fairy Mothers’, Bulletin of the Board of Celtic Studies, 19 (1960-62), 6-8. ‘Several instances occur in Welsh folklore of families which claimed to be descended from a fairy ancestor, but in Welsh “heroic” legend examples are very rare. This, at first sight, is surprising if we compare with Irish legend, and the difference is evidently due to the entirely different manner in which the remains of Welsh heroic legend have come down to us’ (6). What about Pryderi’s ancestry!? Ceridwen, presumed mother of Taliesin acc. to Hanes Taliesin (6); Modron daughter of Afallach, one of the ‘Three blessed pregnancies’ in some triad. Peniart MS 147, pp. 10-11 (1556), legend of Rhyd y Gyfarthfa where ‘the name of the lady is not given but she is said to have been the daughter of the King of Annwn’ (7, cf. 6-7). all a bit elliptical for me, mate. Elliptically suggests a ‘hlaf-forgtten’ case in Bonedd y Saint. Hmm… (7). Actually, this is rather pants.

Bartsch, Karl (ed.), Albrecht von Halberstadt und Ovid im Mittelalter (Quedlinburg, 1861, repr. Amsterdam, 1965). Weird.

\t, Steve, ‘How the West was Won: The Anglo-Saxon Takeover of the West Midlands’, Anglo-Saxon Studies in Archaeology and History, 11 (2000), 107–18.

*Bate, A. K., Waltharius of Gaeraldus (Reading, 1978)

Paul Battles, ‘Of Graves, Caves and Subterranean Dwellings: Eorðscræfe and Eorðsele in The Wife’s Lament’, Philological Quarterly, 73 (1994), 267–86

Battles, Paul, ‘Dwarfs in Germanic Literature: Deutsche Mythologie or Grimm’s Myths?’, in The Shadow-Walkers: Jacob Grimm’s Mythology of the Monstrous, ed. by Tom Shippey, Medieval and Renaissance Texts and Studies, 291/Arizona Studies in the Middle Ages and the Renaissance, 14 (Tempe, AZ: Arizon Center for Medieval and Renaissance Studies, 2005), pp. 29–82. Lots on German medieval texts alongside the Norse stuff etc. Don’t think itmentions the Ribe cranium. ‘Four Old Engish charms prescribe various ways of waarding off “a dwarf”, though it is not always clear whether dweorg denotes [34] the agent of a disease, its symptoms, or the disease itself. Did the Anglo-Saxons really believe that these diseases were caused by dwarfs? Or ahad this already begcome a dead metaphor, just as today the term “stroke” does not conjure up the image of an invisible being “striking someone down”? Scholars who believe the latter de-emphasize the mythological element in the Old English dwarf charms, suggesting that “dwarf” simply denotes “fever”. However, the passage from Peri Didaxeon usually cited in support of this claim is ambiguous. It reads (the reference is to an asthmatic), “hwile he riþaþ swilce he on dweorge sy’, literally “at times he shakes as if from a dwarf” [so actually not literally that at all!!]. This translates the Latin interdum et febriunt [at times they are feverish]’ (33–34). More on this to p. 35. Including transation of ad verrucas as ‘dweorg onweg to donne’ 35 n. 22.

Bauschatz, Paul C., ‘Urth’s Well’, Journal of Indo-European Studies, 3 (1975), 53–86. Citable re etymology of wyrd, urðr, verðandi, skuld. One or two dodgy bits but basically okay. esp. 55, 59–63 acceptable e.g. for equation of nornar with parcae, earlier Gk. Μοιραι [eek, is the rho there right? And hat on the first i] with a bit of discussion.

Bawcutt, Priscilla, ‘Elrich Fantasyis in Dunbar and Other Poets’, 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. 162-78. ‘I find the phrase “elrich fantasyis” [<Douglas Aeneid Vi prol.] a useful label for a small group of humorous poems, preserved chiefly in the Bannatyne Manu[163]script’ (162-63). ‘It is probable that they belong to the last decades of the fifteenth or the early decades of the sixteenth century’ (163). ‘In Lichtoun’s Dreme the poet dreams that he is “tane” by “the king of farye” ’ In Kynd Kittok ‘Kittok’s adventures start when she comes to “ane elrich well” (8). Such magic wells seem to function in Scottish and Irish tradition, “as the extreme limit of the known world” ’ (163, citing Wood 1986). Re Fergus Gaist (‘essentially a mock-conjuration of a troublesome ghost’ 164) ‘the offspring of Fergus’s ghost and ‘the Spen3ie fle’ are Orpheus and queen “Elpha” ’ (163). ‘Most of these poems are included in Bannatyne’s “mirrie ballatis”, and are undoubtedly humorous. Unlike some great ballads or Sir Gawain and the Green Knight they do not draw us far into an enchanted world’ (164). ‘Dunbar, however, in The Goldin Targe (125-6) calls Pluto an “elrich incubus”. This seems to fuse god, demon and fairy, recalling Pluto’s rape of Proserpina as well as his medieval identification with thvae king of faerie’ (166). Otherwise not very useful re eldrich but good in other respects. Setting up Dunbar and his use of the devil relative to these other forms. Dunbar less jocular, more sinister, she reckons. And other things.

*Bawden, Charles R., Confronting the Supernatural: Mongolian Traditional Ways and Means: Collected Papers (Wiesbaden, 1994) [NF2 461:84.c.95.4]

Bazire, Joyce and James E. Cross (ed.), Eleven Old English Rogationtide Homilies, Kings College London Medieval Studies, 4, 2nd edn (London: Kings College London, 1989)

*Beck, H., ‘A Runological and Iconographical Interpretation of North-Sea Germanic Rune-Solidi’, Michigan Germanic Studies, 7 (1981), 69-88. 69ff re Frisian runes weladu.

*Beck, Wolfgang, Die Merseburger Zaubersprüche, Imagines Medii Aevi, 16 (Wiebaden: Reichert, 2003)

*Beckensall, Stan, Northumberland Field Names (Newcastle-upon-Tyne, n.d.).

Becker, Alfred, Franks Casket: Zu den Bildern und Inschriften des Runenkästchens von Auzon, Sprache und Litteratur: Regensburger Arbeiten zur Anglistik und Amerikanistik, 5 (Regensburg: Carl, 1973)

Becker, Gertraud, Geist und Seele im Altsächsischen und im Althochdeutschen: Der Sinnbereich des Seelischen und die Wörter gêst-geist und seola-sêla in den Denkmälern bis zum 11. Jahrhundert (Heidelberg, 1964) [746:25.c.95.1 NW3]Relevant re Glc A? Ah, that OS, not OE…!

Bek-Pedersen, Karen, 'Are the Spinning Nornir just a Yarn?', Viking and Medieval Scandinavia, 3 (2007), 1-10.

*Behr, C., ‘The Origins of Kingship in Medieval Kent’, Early Medieval Europe, 9 (2000), 25–52. 39–45 app. re Thunor story and argues that Eastrym Finglesham and Woodnesborough consituted a major C6 cult centre associated with Woden.

Behringer, Wolfgang, Shaman of Oberstdorf: Chonrad Stoecklin and the Phantoms of the Night, trans. by H. C. Midelfort (Charlottesville, Virginia, 1998). p. 63 re Joan of Arc but looks generally interesting. [UL only has German ]

*Belier, Wouter, Decayed Gods (Leiden 1991). Dunno what’s in ehre by Sjöblom cited and may be interesting…

Bell, A., ‘Gaimar and the Edgar-Ælfðryð Story’, Modern Language Review, 21 (1926), 278–87. Alas, doesn’t even summarise the story, but tackels various issues re it likely origins etc. Emphs poss of oral origins and no relation to William of Malmesnury’s account.

Bell, Alexander (ed.), L’Estoire des Engleis by Geffrei Gaimar, Anglo-Norman Texts, 14–16 (Oxford, 1960). Elftroed indexed as Ælfthryth, queen of Edgar, k. of England (298). lines 3607ff. King Edgar tells his brother Edelwold that he’s in love with ‘Elftroed la fille oRgar’ (at 3633). Then narrator says stuff and ‘Orgar juot a uns eschés, / Un giu qu’il aprist as Daneis; / Od lui [juout] Elftroad la bele, / Suz ciel n’ot tele damoisele, / E Edelwold mult l’esgardat, / Trestut un jur i demurat. / Tant l’esgardat vis e colur / E cors e mains la bele flur / Que quidat [bien] que [ço] fust fee / E qu’ele ne fust de femme nee / E quant la vit de tel belted, / Tant [par] en fud enlumined / Qu’il purpensat en sun curage, / U turt a pru u a damage, / Ne dirat mie a sun seignur / [117] La verited cil traïtur, / Ainz dirat qu’ele n’est pas si bele; / De luinz purtraist la grant puscele.’ (ll. 3649–3666, pp. 116–17).

date and place li–lii; ‘The Estoire des Engleis … was written in England by an author who had lived long enough in the country, even if not actually born there, to acquire a considerable knowledge of the native language’ (li); concludes for 1135×40

*Bell, James A., ‘Interpretation and Testability in Theories about Prehistoric Thinking’, The Ancient Mind, ed. by C. Renfrew and E. B. W. Zubrow (Cambridge, 1994), pp. 15–21.

Bennardo, Giovanni, ‘Language, Mind, and Culture: From Linguistic Relativity to Representational Modularity’, in Mind, Brain, and Language: Multidisciplinary Perspectives, ed. by Marie T. Banich and Molly Mack (Mahwah, N.J.: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates, 2003), pp. 23–59.

Bennet, Gillian, Traditions of Belief: Women and the Supernatural (Harmondsworth, 1987). [reading room, 9000.d.2870]

Bennett, Margaret, ‘Balquhidder Revisited: Fairylore in the Scottish Highlands, 1690–1990’, in The Good People: New Fairylore Essays, ed. by Peter Narváez, Garland Reference Library of the Humanities, 1376 (New York: Garland, 1991), pp. 94–115.

*Benozzo, Francesco, Landscape Perception in Early Celtic Literature, Celtic Studies Publications, 8 (Aberystwyth: Celtic Studies Publications, 2004). Very litty and badly language-checked, but interesting-looking.

Benson, Larry D. and Theodore M. Andersson (eds and transs XXXX), The Literary Context of Chaucer’s Fabliaux: Texts and Translations (Indianapolis: Bobbs-Merrill, 1971). Irregang and Girregar 124–93. Elbisch: lines 648, 934, 1206, 1310; alp: lines 653, 676, 873.

Benson, Larry D. (ed.), The Riverside Chaucer, 3rd ed. (Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1987). Shipman’s tale:

“Cosyn,” quod she,”if that I hadde a space,

As I have noon, and namely in this place,

Thanne wolde I telle a legende of my lyf,

What I have suffred sith I was a wyf

With myn housbonde, al be he youre cosyn.” (204–5, ll. 143–47/ 1333–37). Hmm, v. like WfL, cf. ‘For I may synge “allas and weylawey / That I was born,” but to no wight, quod she’ (204, ll. 118–19/1308–9) shows allusion to lyrics etc. She also uses proverbial wisdom 173–77.

Benson, Larry D., A Glossarial Concordance to the Riverside Chaucer, 2 vols (London, 1993) [NW1 719:2.b.95.7-]. Elf: MilT (1) 3479:

This Nicholas sat ay as stille as stoon, / And evere caped upward into the eir. / This carpenter wende he were in despeir, / And hente hym by the sholdres myghtily, / And shook hym harde, and cride spitously, / ‘What! Nicholay! what, how! what, look adoun! / Awak, and thenk on Cristes passioun! / I crouche thee from elves and fro wightes.[’] / Therwith the nyght-spel seyde he anon-rightes / On foure halves of the hous aboute, / And on the thressfold of the dore withoute: / ‘Jhesu Crist and seinte Benedight, / Blesse this hous from every wikked wiht, / For nyghtes verye, the white pater-noster! / Where wentestow, seinte Petres soster?’ (Everyman: the meaning of these lines is obscure’ re last two).

MLT (2) 754:

The mooder was an elf, by aventure

WBT (3) 860: The elf-queene, with hir joly compaignye

WBT (3) 864: But now kan no man se none elves mo,

WBT (3) 873: For the as wont to walken was an elf

ProThop (7) 703: He semeth elvyssh by his contenaunce,

Thop (7) 788: An elf-queene shal my lemman be

Thop (7) 790: “An elf-queene wol I love, ywis,

Thop (7) 795: And to an elf-queene I me take

Thop (7) 799: An elf-queene for t’espye,

CYT (8) 751: Oure elvysshe craft, we semen wonder wise,

CYT (8) 842: In lernyng of this elvysshe nyce loore,

So only in CTs, then. Hmm. Can they be correlated with genre, status of speakers, etc.?

*Benveniste, Emile, Indo-European Language and Society (Coral Cables, 1972)

Berglund, Björn E., ‘Models for reconstructing Ancient Cultural Landscapes: The Example of the Viking Age Landscape at Bjäresjö, Skåne, Southern Sweden’, in Environment and Vikings: Scientific Methods and Techniques, ed. by Urve Miller and Helen Clarke, Birka Studies, 4 (Stockholm: The Birka Project, 1997), pp. 31–45. [595.01.c.16.4] Not much on the culture end really, more about where woods and pastures were etc.

Bergmann, Rolf, Verzeichnis der althochdeutschen und altsächsischen Glossenhandschriften, Arbeiten zur Frühmittelalterforschung: Schriftenreihe des Instituts für Frühmittelalterforschung der Universität Münster (Berlin, 1973). Seems to be complete list of gloss MSS in AHD and ALG. Ed. by Seivers and suppl. Mayer. [R785.G105 WALRUS] 85 re Junius 83! A summary catalogue of Western Manuscripts in the Bobleian Library, II, 2, Nr. 5194, s. 981-982. W. Braekman and M. Gysseling, Het Utrechtse Kalendarium van 1253 met de Noordlimburgse Gezondheidsregels, Koninklijke Vlaamse Academie voor Taal—en Letterkunde. Verslagen en Mededelingen 1967, Aflevering 9-12, S. 575-635 (S. 575-580).

Berger, Peter L. and Thomas Luckmann, The Social Construction of Reality: A Treatise in the Sociology of Knowledge (London: Lane, 1967). Re reality and knowledge: ‘We need not enter here into adiscussion of the semantic intricacies of either the everyday or the philosophical usage of these terms. It will ne enough, for our purposes, to define “reality” as a quality appertaining to phenomena that we recognize as having been independent of our own volition (we cannot “wish them away”), and to define “knowledge” as the certainty that phenomena are real and that they possess specific characteristics. It is in this (admittedly simplistic) sense that the terms have relevance both to the man in the steet and to the philosopher’ (13). Discusses how although the sociologist can’t just accept reality and knowledge like the man in the street (if only cos different socieites obviously do them differently), he can’t be trying to make ultimate decisions about their validity like a philosopher (14–15). In between. ‘It is our contention, then, that the sociology of knowledge must concern itself with whatever passes for “knowledge” in a society, regardless of the ultimate validity of invalidity (by whatever criteria) of such “knowledge”. And in so far as all human “knowledge” is developed, transmitted and maintained in social situations, the sociology of knowledge must seek to understand the processes by which this is done in such a way that a taken-for-granted “reality” congeals for the man in the street. In other words, we content that the sociology of knowledge is concerned with the analysis of the social contruction of reality.’ (15). ‘Among the multiple realities there is one that presents itself as the reality par excellence. This is the reality of everyday life. … // I apprehend the reality of everyday life as an ordered reality. Its phenomena are prearranged in patterns that seem to be independent of my apprehension of them and that impose themselves upon the latter. The reality of everyday life appears already objectified, that is, constituted by an order of objects that have been designated as objects before my appearance on the scene. The language used in everyday life continuously provides me with the necessary objectifications and posits the order within which these make sense and within [36] which everryday life has meaning for me. I live in a place that is geographically designated; I employ tools, from can-openers to sports cars, which are designated in the technical vocabulary of my society; I live within a web of human relationships, from my chess club to the Unites States of America, which ae also ordered by means of vocabulary. In this manner language marks the coordinates of my life in society and fills that life with meaningful objects’ (35–36). The here and now, the world within my physical reach, the realissimum, the reality par excellence. Other parts of everyday life more distant, spacially or temporally, possibly of less interest, certainly less urgent (36–37). Emphs that although you may enter other realities, as when watching a play, in religious experience, etc., everyday reality remains paramount (39); ‘If nothing else, language makes sure of this. The common language available to me for the objectification [40] of my experiences is grounded in everyday life and keeps pointing back to it even as I employ it to interpret experiences in finite provinces of meaning. Typically, therefore, I “distort” the reality of the latter as soon as I begin to use the common language in interpreting them, the is, I “translate” the non-everyday experiences back into the paramount reality of everyday life’ (39–40); but surely it cuts both ways—language facilitates social realities? Temporality dead important 40–42.

Talks about typicifations and social interaction. The more face-to-face your experience of someone, the less anonymous and typified they are etc. (43–48). Elves are presumably pretty typified as a rule but some of the Scottish trials suggest other angles here.

Language dead important in the ‘objectivation’ of reality, 49–61. ‘The common objectivations of everyday life are maintained primarily by linguistic signification. Everyday life is, above all, life with and by means of the language I share with my fellowmen [sic]. An understanding of [52] language is thus essential for any understanding of the reality of everyday life. // Language has its origins in the face-to-face situation, but can be readily detached from it. This is not only because I can shout in the dark or across a distance … Th detachment of language lies much more basically in its capacity to communicate meanings that are not direct expressions of subjectivity “here and now”. It shares this capacity with other sign systems, but its immense variety and complexity make it much more readily detachable from the face-to-face situation than any other (for example, a system of gesticulations). I can speak about innumerable matters that are not present at all in the face-to-face situation, including matters I hever have and never will experience directly. In this way, language is capable of becoming the objective repository of vast accumulations of meaning and experience, which it can then preserve in time and transmit to following generations’ (51–52). Develops this to 54. ‘Moreover, language is capable of transcending the reality of everyday life altogether. It can refer to experiences pertaining to finite provinces of meaning, and it can span discrete spheres of reality’ (54). ‘Any significative theme that thus spans spheres of reality may be defined as a symbol, and the linguistic mode by which such transcendence is achieve may be called symbolic language. On the level of symbolism, then, linguistic signification attains the maximum detachment from the “here and now” of everyday life, and language soars into regions that are not only de facto but a priori unavailable to everyday experience. Language now constructs immense edifices of symbolic representations that appear to tower over the reality of everyday life like gigantic presences from another world. Religion, philosophy, art, and science are the historically most important symbol systems of this kind. To name these is already to say that, despite the maximal detachment from everyday experience that the construction of these systems requires, they can be of very great importance indeed for the reality of everyday life’ (55).

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.

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

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

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

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

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).

*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).

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.

*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).

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)

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]

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

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

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

*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.

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?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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, 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.

*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

*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.

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.

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

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

Disen begunden weynen, klagen

Alle goett in denselben tagen

Von welden und von hohen bergen,

Auch seine brüder, de gezwergen,

Die elben und auch die elbinnen,

Deßgleichen all wassergoettinnen.

=6.392ff. ed. Miller 1974, i 314

illum ruricolae, silvarum numina, fauni

et satyri fratres et tunc quoque carus Olympus

et nymphae flerunt, et quisquis montibus illus

lanigerosque greges armentaque bucera pavit.

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

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

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

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

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

Depuratives/Alteratives

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chap 9, ie 158-67, re ‘Elves, Elf-Shot and Nightmare’. ‘The passage in the Lacnunga // Were it Æsir shot, or Elves’ shot / Or Hag’s shot, now I will help thee. // shows the descending stages of powers—theÆsir, the smaller but still supernatural elves, and the human witch or hag.’ (158). ‘In Anglo-Saxon times diseases were erroneously attributed to many causes which were usually of a supernatural nature. The object was malevolence, with or without provocation. The evil was most usually attributed to the elves (who attacked with their arrows) or to ‘flying venom’ ’ (158). Hmm, never mind their paucity relative to other thingys… And where are these fucking 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)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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. Usual amazing rubbish. 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). Bloody French.

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). Insane eh…?

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) AAARRRRRGHH!

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.

This article is absolutely crap. How it reached publication I don’t know, and it’s an embarrassment to Arv.

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).

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.

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

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)

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).

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.

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).

*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, 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

*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)

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

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

*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, 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..

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

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)

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

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 ack 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.

*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.

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).

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)

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

Furiarum

hægtessa

wedenheotra synna.

ClGl 1 (Stryker) D8.1

Furiarum

wedenheotra synna

hægtessa

ClGl 1 (Stryker) D8.1

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

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

*Cameron ASE 1990

Cameron in 1992 collection XXXX

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

GOOD STUFF IN ch. 13—PHOTOCOPY?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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).

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

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

*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

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

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, 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, 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-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, Roger, Cultural History (Cambridge, 1988)

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

*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 himselfdoesn’t use it. Apparently.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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).

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, 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)

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.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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).

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

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, ‘Verulamium, the Romano-British Name of St Albans’, Studia Celtica, 39 (2005), 169–76. 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’, 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)

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)

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 (London: XXXX, 1996), pp. 3–25. ‘The monster is born only at this metaphorical crossroads, as an embodiment of a certain cultural moment—of a time, a feeling, and a place. The monster’s body quite literally incorporates fear, desire, anxiety, and fantasy (ataractic or incendiary), giving them life and an uncanny independence. The monstrous body is pure culture’ (4). ‘Lyacon, the first werewolf in Western Literature…’ (12). Meaning, of course, the first in surviving known western lit. If an earlier papyrus turned up tomorrow with an earlier werewolf, this statement would still be taken to have been true when it was written, sort it. Interesting. (Not in Cohen tho’!) Not generally a very engaging piece.

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

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

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.

*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).

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 1986: 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.

*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.

005389 ref no. for NTL payment 0-8-2004

co-op bank appl. no 376784 2 proofs of address and identity 4 different

utility bills, 1 identity quote number on documents

co-op bank plc

nbc p/o box 200

delf house

south way

skelmersdale

wn8 6ny

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)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*Cox on pn.els. 1976

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

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

Craigie, James, ed. Minor Prose Works of King James VI and I: Daemonologie, The Trve Lawe of Free

Monarchies, a Counterblaste to Tobacco, a Declaration of Sports. Scottish Text Society, 4th Series 14.

Edinburgh: The Scottish Text Society, 1982.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Crawford, Barbara E. and Simon Taylor, ‘The Southern Frontier of Norse Settlement in North Scotland: Place-Names and History’, Northern Scotland, 23 (2003), 2–76. Wrid kind of lurching piece with chunks ofplace-name data, Crawford’s saga-based hallucinated narratives and not much in conclusion. Based on a rather obscurely represented survey of north-east Inverness-shire.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

ROYAL SPACES: Lilla and the assassin story set in hall

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Cubitt, 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 (2000a), 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 erly 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.

D

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

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).

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 interpretationhas 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, 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, '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.

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.

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).

Demarin, John Peter, A treatise upon the trade from Great-Britain to Africa: humbly recommended to the attention of government By John Peter Demarin, African Merchant Published by Printed for R. Baldwin, 1772. http://books.google.co.uk/books?id=i8ANAAAAQAAJ.

*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.]

hu

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, 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.

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 //