A sea-bishop from Johann Zahn’s 1696 work Specula physico-mathematico-historica notabilium ac mirabilium sciendorum (that’s a mouthful). By Sean Linehan, NOS, NGS National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA) (http://www.photolib.noaa.gov/library/libr0081.htm) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons
Spiritualism, Science, and the Mysterious Madame Blavatsky: brief biography of the controversial nineteenth century occultist in conjunction with an academic paper about her contributions to the modern New Age. Mystic? Charlatan? Both? Never dull, at any rate.
I’m not the best at keeping up with trends. Maybe it’s age, maybe I’m just perpetually up to my ears in my own peculiar interests, but I don’t always know what’s happening in pop culture at large, even in my own bailiwick.
Take “Hamilton”. I first became vaguely aware of the play only because a fellow writer mentioned it on Facebook. At the time I chalked up her enthusiasm to her subject matter (historical fiction set in 18th century America), but it didn’t take long before half the people I knew were swooning over the soundtrack. Had I heard it? Wasn’t it awesome?
And I hadn’t. A musical about a founding father sounded like an interesting trick to me but then, I’m a history nerd. Alas, I’m a lazy/distracted history nerd and didn’t go much beyond Googling the play. Rationalizing that I couldn’t get much out of a soundtrack to something I’d never seen (and wasn’t likely ever to be able to!) I wandered off into other things.
Then a friend played the opening “Alexander Hamilton” track for me. Hip hop and history – I like it! I mused aloud that putting historical fact to modern music would make it relatable and memorable.
It wasn’t until this past summer that my husband caught the bug, and at his urging I finally downloaded the soundtrack for the Jamestown roadtrip.
Um, damn.
Every single track an earworm, memorable even on first hearing! Funny too – I didn’t know this was a comedy. Wait, it’s not – oh poor Eliza! Is this one about the Federalist Papers? Did this guy seriously just make dry political legalese cool?
I think I get it, finally. I’m not a “foaming-at-the-mouth-best-thing-since-sliced-bread” fan but I’m all in favor of translating history to appeal to modern audiences and “Hamilton” does this flawlessly. The new PBS making-of special is excellent, including not just performances but Miranda’s writing process: how he decided what to keep, cut, fictionalize, and compress from the historical record to tell a good story. Even the actors researched their characters, to the point of going to historic sites and collections [envy!]
So, I reckon I got there in the end. Anyone have something new to recommend?
Because you can’t write about John Dee for very long without addressing the Voynich Manuscript, the “book nobody can read”.
A page from the mysterious Voynich manuscript, which is undeciphered to this day. Courtesy Wikipedia.
In an early draft of the novel I had Edward Kelley stumble across this strange tome in Mortlake’s library, but I ended up cutting that scene because Dee likely never owned it. Bursting further myths, he didn’t create it either – it’s carbon dated to the early 15th century, well over a hundred years before Dee’s time. Nonetheless as a mathematician and steganographer he certainly would have found it interesting. Hell, I find it interesting and I’m just an ordinary schlub.
The manuscript got its popular name from Wilfred Voynich, the bookseller who purchased it in 1912. Before that it passed through many hands and it’s origin is unclear. It currently resides in the Beinecke Rare Book and Manuscript Library at Yale, and is available for viewing by appointment only (though they did loan it for an exhibit in DC, see below).
As such, speculation on what the text might be and by extension what the book is about runs rampant. CipherMysteries.com provides a rundown of the most popular theories, which include everything from blatant hoaxing to alien tech. Certainly it seems to have elements of astrology, herbals, and possibly alchemical recipe books (all those pipes), but doesn’t resemble any of these exclusively.
Decryption obsesses many – even the NSA (PDF) took a crack at it. In 2014 Stephan Bax at the University of Bedfordshire in England deciphered ten words for plants and an astrological sign. Just last week Gordon Rugg of the University of Keele declared it a hoax; other parties disagree.
I was fortunate enough to see the real deal when it was on display in the Folger Library’s Decoding the Renaissance exhibit. Somehow I thought the fuel for so much speculation would be bigger – it’s about the size of a modern hardcover novel. The vellum shows few erasures, so someone understood the strange text well enough to write it with few mistakes. The colors are still vivid even after ~600 years, but the illustrations seem hasty and awkward, particularly the human figures.
My own take is… I don’t know what to think. I’m no cryptographer so I’m not competent to judge the plausibility of the various theories (though I’m pretty sure aliens didn’t write it). If it’s a hoax it’s a good one to fascinate so many for so long. If it’s a code I have to wonder what the author(s) were hiding. In any case, someone went to a lot of time and trouble to create it. Again, the real story is about people and their motives and perceptions.
When writing about Dee and Kelley’s time together it is impossible to avoid the infamous “crossmatching” incident. The “spirits” hold out the promise of great secrets if they agree to share everything in common – including their wives. After much angsty soul-searching, they agree, and even wrote up a pact outlining their commitment to the act (I could not make this up!)
Sure, it’s attention-getting for salaciousness alone, but in the context of the WIP it’s a major plot point. Are the “spirits” good or evil? How far – and why – are Dee and Kelley willing to go to achieve their ambitions? How far – and why – are Jane Dee and Joanna Kelley willing to compromise themselves for their husbands’ mad schemes? And what are the repercussions?
So of course I have to include it.
I’ve been asked whether I’m really going to “go there”. Wouldn’t a “fade to black” be more tasteful? Don’t you worry about putting off potential readers? Aren’t you afraid of the narrative minefield erotica poses?
No, no, and yes. Which is why I’m taking a class on writing love scenes.
The excellent essay Show Me, Don’t Tell Me – Unless it’s Sex over at Remittance Girl’s blog (which I highly recommend – not safe for work, so be smart) explores some of the reasons why writers shy away from sex scenes: societal hang-ups about sex, the impression that sex scenes are automatically porn, the fear that sex is so commercialized that sex scenes won’t elicit a real response in the reader – just a memory of the latest tv ad.
All of which are valid concerns. But for me, in this case, omission would represent a narrative “flinch” of the kind I’ve always abhorred. Telling the reader about it after the fact would be like telling the aftermath of a fight after putting away the swords: I’d sacrifice all the emotional punch. I also imagine the “pulling back” of telling after a novel of close 3rd person showing would jar the reader right out of the story.
Ultimately good sex scenes aren’t about tab A into slot B but are about emotions, in all their messy glory. I’d cheat my readers if I left out such a rich opportunity for character development.
Will explicit content put off some readers? Yes, most likely, but not all books are for all people and I’m fine with that. However, I don’t want to drown the right readers with purple prose, hence the class.
I’m setting aside rewrites for the next 2 weeks to focus on learning – a break in momentum, but a worthy one.
Think history’s all boring dates? Try social history – a former history class-hater turned historical fiction writer because of her love for the ‘real lives behind boring dates and wars’. I never disliked the big names but the food, clothing, hygiene, tools, and other minutiae of every day life provides a sense of place and time that larger events just don’t.
New research maps in unique detail the devastation of the Black Death on medieval England – Over two thousand square meters of plague burial pits excavated between 2005 and 2014 reveal such a sharp drop in pottery fragments that they estimate the “population of England remained somewhere between 35 and 55 per cent below its pre-Black Death level well into the sixteenth century”. The article links to the University of Lincoln’s announcement and it links to the original paper, which is, alas, password protected.
Call to save nude Tudor murals on old brothel site – renovation of a former clothing shop in Buckingham UK reveals murals with “lots of naked people in them and…several explicit images” dating from the 1570s-80s. Only one rather tame image at the link, though I suppose the curious could always try contacting the professor quoted in the article.
Work from 1616 is ‘the first ever science fiction novel’ – I’ve never thought of the Rosicrucian text “The Chymical Wedding” as proto-science fiction, but given that it’s about alchemy and adventure and flying women, I can see it. But is it really the first? The article cites works by Kepler and More as possibilities. What do you think?
Margaret Cavendish, the long-ignored godmother of science fiction, gets her due in Margaret the First – “The Blazing World” is novel in 17th century literature for including alternative worlds and talking animals, but it seems the author was at least as interesting as her story. Privately ambitious but publicly apologetic for it, this review suggests a tale of female frustration at dreams thwarted that’s maddening in its familiarity – and therefore looks like a cracking good read.
Cover of Cavendish’s “The Blazing World”, courtesy Wikipedia
I talked with Roejen and Lobo over at Project Archivist about one of Dee and Kelley’s great patrons, Holy Roman Emperor Rudolf II. He provided material support and political protection for alchemists, astrologers, scientists, and artists of all stripes. Perhaps not the most glittering court (he was a melancholic recluse who preferred the world to come to him), but he created a golden age of early modern science in Prague.
Here are some images of the Mad Emperor himself, some of the art he favored, and a disturbing family tree. All images Wikipedia Commons unless otherwise noted:
Rudolf II by Joseph Heinz the Elder, 1594, at the peak of his power as Holy Roman Emperor and art/science/occult studies patron.Archduke Rudolf when he was about 15, by Spanish court painter Alonso Sánchez Coello, 1567. I’d love to know what’s up with the long red nails – some odd Spanish court fashion? Kids those days…An illustration of the Habsburg intermarriages and the end result. Anna of Austria was Rudolf II’s sister; they lived over 100 years before poor Charles II. From http://the-history-notes.blogspot.com/p/genealogy.html
“The Librarian”, 1570 by Giuseppe Arcimboldo. His inventive portraits influenced Surrealist artists 400 years later.
Bartholomäus Spranger’s “Venus and Adonis”, 1595-1597. An example of the mythological-themed art with bonus naked ladies of which Rudolf was so fond.Selected Bibliography:
Evans, R. J. W. (1973). Rudolf II and His World: A Study in Intellectual History, 1576-1612. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Fučíková, E. (1997). Rudolf II and Prague: The court and the city. Prague, New York, and London: Prague : Prague Castle Administration ; London ; New York : Thames and Hudson.
Marshall, P. (2006). The Magic Circle of Rudolf II: Alchemy and Astrology in Renaissance Prague. Walker & Company.
Nummedal, T. (2007). Alchemy and Authority in the Holy Roman Empire. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.
Most walking tours hit the highlights: places, dates, battles. All of which is good and interesting, but I wanted a flavor of the local folklore that doesn’t make it into history books. I find ghost tours are the best way to learn about the weird history of a place, and I found two I enjoyed.
I discovered the Prague witch tour last minute and accidentally, and booked with the thought this will be either the cheesiest thing on earth or a window into contemporary pagan Prague. Definitely more beef than cheese, with servings of morbid history and a dash of ritual.
Our tour guide, Martina, was a modern pagan and a dedicated entrepreneur to boot. The witch tour is her labor of love, and she offered alternative perspectives on some of the usual sights. For example, she explained how Christian elements on the astronomical clock’s face can be interpreted as old pagan symbols to those in the know. While I don’t fully grasp the nuances of the occult “green language” (every word has seven meanings) it certainly lends another layer of history I wouldn’t have been aware of otherwise.
She also introduced us to the legend of 17th century executioner Jan Mydlář. Short version: the role of executioner traditionally stayed within families, but Mydlář committed a murder so grisly that they spared him the axe and gave him the job. He went on to an, er, prolific career and a friendship with the anatomist Ján Jesenský, to whom he supplied cadavers for dissection. Their friendship came to an end when Mydlář’s superiors ordered him to behead Jesenský along with 26 other Protestant leaders, thus kicking off the Thirty Years War. The execution site is still marked in the Old Town Square:
One cross for each man. Very sobering.
Mydlář went on to drink away the loss of his best friend at a pub that still exists today. It’s somewhere behind the Old Town Hall, though for the life of me I couldn’t find it a second time:
The sign over the door. If you squint you can see some of the swords and other weapons hanging on the wall
The rest of the tour was a long walk through landmarks familiar and not: the surviving gothic architecture of Charles University and the “devil’s” fungus that tears the stone apart; the convent of St. Agnes, haunted by girls pressed into the nunnery against their will; the executioner’s storage and training house. Always the symbols passed through a pagan lens, revealing an enduring alternate belief system.
She even conducted a brief ritual of intent for us in a chalk-drawn circle, and I did my best to focus on my goals. The evening wound up in a local pub with excellent local spirits and a wide-ranging discussion about pagan thought. This tour is truly unlike anything else in Prague, and Martina is a delight. Highly recommended.
The underground ghost tour took us under the city hall into chambers that were at ground level hundreds of years ago but were slowly buried by later construction. Only hand-held lanterns relieve the complete dark, creating a still, close atmosphere that’s great for storytelling. Mydlář came up again as a man who tried to save his lover from the axe only to have things go disastrously wrong. Allegedly he also worked with a vampire hunter (how is there not a graphic novel somewhere about Mydlář & co? The black humor writes itself!). Our tour guide was a New Jersey native and the unfamiliar words sounded even more so in his familiar accent, but he knew his stuff and claimed to have had some experiences of his own.
Both tours claim that tourists have gone home to find wisps and ghostly “orbs” in their photos. Alas, the ghosties didn’t come out for me. Though, I did have a devil of a time uploading these images, so make of that what you will.
Through my research on Dee and Kelley, I’ve enjoyed discovering other colorful figures from Rudolf II’s court. Tycho Brahe and Johannes Kepler interested me the most, as much for their “odd couple” dynamic as for their accomplishments.
Statue of Brahe and Kepler outside Strahov Monastery, author’s own
Brahe, a Danish nobleman, pursued astronomy despite the ridicule of most of his family. Of a somewhat extravagant personality, he famously lost his nose in a duel (over a mathematical formula) and replaced it with a metal one. His entertainments for his noble patrons included his pet drunk elk and a court jester that lived under his dining room table.
When not partying like a rockstar he made a log of precise celestial measurements, all without the aid of a telescope(!). Of several personal facilities his largest was Uraniborg, his observatory/alchemical lab/research institute, which he ruled like a king until the actual Danish king stopped funding him.
If Brahe was larger than life, Kepler was…not. Noble but impoverished, he almost became a minister before taking a post teaching mathematics in what is now Austria. Though interested in astronomy from an early age, poor eyesight prevented him making celestial observations of his own.
Plate of a planetary conjunction from Kepler’s De Stella Nova, courtesy Bill Blair’s site
So, a flamboyant genius with a personal scientific playground and a mild mannered, nearsighted professor…sounds familiar…
Kepler may not have turned into a green rage monster, but Brahe would have loved the Iron Man suit. Courtesy Collider
But I digress. How did the Renaissance science bros come to work together?
Partly through correspondence – they exchanged letters for years on astronomical questions. They finally met in Prague. Brahe arrived in 1599 at Rudolf II’s invitation, to become his imperial astronomer. A year later Brahe invited Kepler to work as his assistant. After several months of Kepler’s uncertain employment and an argument over access to Brahe’s logs, they formalized a commission to work together.
Not a month later Brahe died. Kepler inherited both his post as imperial astronomer and Brahe’s logs – the latter not without a fight. Brahe’s family wanted to lock them up, but after acrimonious negotations Kepler finally gained access to the data. He used it to create the Rudolphine Tables, the most accurate star and planetary tables of their time. The precision of the measurements also allowed him to prove that planets travel in an ellipse and improve upon Copernicus’ heliocentric model of the solar system.
(My understanding of physics and complex astronomy is limited and beyond the scope of this blog post. Corrections are welcome in the comments section!)
Circling back to my book: Neither Brahe nor Kepler appear in it as they were active in Prague long after my 1580s timeframe. It’s also unlikely Dee or Kelley met either of them, though Brahe corresponded with Dee about the 1572 supernova and a 1577 comet. But, they are another example of the great minds attracted by Prague’s scientific golden age.
Those in the states, let the “eating season” commence!
Research:
Your Grandmother Is Lying (and Other Lessons of Historical Research: part 1, part 2 – how to find and evaluate sources.
Weird history:
New scans of the Voynich manuscript now available – “… recent conservation work addressed folds and curls that had previously blocked some pages, and new scanning equipment made the color more accurate…”
“Tremontaine” is another team effort started by Ellen Kushner as a prequel to her “Riverside” series. The first five episodes are available, next one coming out today.
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