The Aberdeen Bestiary, One of the Great Medieval Illuminated Manuscripts, Now Digitized in High Resolution & Made Available Online

For thou­sands of years, ordi­nary peo­ple all over the world not only worked side-by-side with domes­tic ani­mals on a dai­ly basis, they also observed the wild fau­na around them to learn how to nav­i­gate and sur­vive nature. The close­ness pro­duced a keen appre­ci­a­tion for ani­mal behav­ior that informs the folk tales of every con­ti­nent and the pop­u­lar texts of every reli­gion. Our delight in ani­mal sto­ries sur­vives in children’s books, but in grown-up lan­guage, ani­mal com­par­isons tend to be nasty and dehu­man­iz­ing. The demean­ing adjec­tive “bes­tial” con­veys a typ­i­cal atti­tude not only toward peo­ple we don’t like, but toward the ani­mal world as well. Orwell’s Ani­mal Farm and Kafka’s Meta­mor­pho­sis have become the stan­dard ref­er­ences for mod­ern ani­mal alle­go­ry.

Ear­ly lit­er­a­ture shows us a range of dif­fer­ent atti­tudes, where ani­mals are treat­ed as equals, with char­ac­ter traits both good and bad, or as noble mes­sen­gers of a god or gods rather than live­stock, mov­ing scenery, or exploitable resources.

We might refer in an east­ern con­text to the Jata­ka Tales, fables of the Buddha’s many rebirths in the human and ani­mal worlds that pro­vide their read­ers with moral lessons. In the Chris­t­ian west, we have the medieval bestiary—compendiums of ani­mals, both real and mythological—that intro­duced read­ers to a moral typol­o­gy through “read­ing” what ear­ly Chris­tians thought of as the “book of nature.”

The most lav­ish of them all, the Aberdeen Bes­tiary, which dates from around 1200, was once owned by Hen­ry VIII. Now, the Uni­ver­si­ty of Aberdeen has dig­i­tized the text and made it freely avail­able to read­ers online. Begin­ning with the key cre­ation sto­ries from the book of Gen­e­sis, the book then dives into its descrip­tions of ani­mals, begin­ning with the lion, the pard (pan­ther), and the ele­phant.

You’ll notice that these are not ani­mals that your typ­i­cal medieval Euro­pean read­er would have encoun­tered. One impor­tant dif­fer­ence between the bes­tiary and the fable is that the for­mer draws many of its beasts from hearsay, con­jec­ture, or pure fic­tion. But the intent is part­ly the same. These “were teach­ing tools,” notes Claire Voon at Hyper­al­ler­gic, and the Aberdeen Bes­tiary con­tains illus­trat­ed “lengthy tales of moral behav­ior.”

Like the sto­ries of Aesop, the bes­tiary presents impor­tant lessons, mix­ing in the fab­u­lous with the nat­u­ral­ist. As Voon describes the Aberdeen Bes­tiary:

The illus­tra­tions are impres­sive­ly var­ied, depict­ing com­mon ani­mals from tiny ants to ele­phants, as well as fan­tas­tic beasts, from the leocro­ta to the phoenix. Even the moral qual­i­ties of the hum­ble sea urchin are hon­ored with para­graphs of dis­cus­sion. Beyond this array of crea­tures, the bes­tiary details the appear­ances and qual­i­ties of var­i­ous trees, gems, and humans. Some of these may seem com­i­cal to 21st-cen­tu­ry eyes: a swarm of bees, for instance, resem­bles an order­ly line of shut­tle­cocks stream­ing into their hives. Yet oth­er paint­ings are impres­sive for their near-accu­ra­cy, such as one image of a bat that shows how its mem­bra­nous wings con­nect its fin­gers, legs, and tail. All of these rich details would have helped read­ers bet­ter under­stand the nat­ur­al world as it was defined at the time of the book’s cre­ation. 

Incred­i­bly ornate and bear­ing the marks of dozens of scrib­al hands, the book, his­to­ri­ans believe, was orig­i­nal­ly pro­duced for a wide audi­ence, then tak­en by Henry’s librar­i­ans from a dis­solved monastery. Nev­er ful­ly com­plet­ed, it remained in the Roy­al Library for 100 years after Hen­ry. “I doubt if the Tudor mon­archs took it out for a reg­u­lar read,” says Aberdeen Uni­ver­si­ty pro­fes­sor Jane Ged­des. Now an open pub­lic doc­u­ment, it returns to its “orig­i­nal pur­pose of edu­ca­tion,” writes Voon, “although for us, of course, it illu­mi­nates more about the past than the present.” See the high res scans here.

Note: An ear­li­er ver­sion of this post appeared on our site in 2017.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

The Medieval Mas­ter­piece, the Book of Kells, Is Now Dig­i­tized and Avail­able Online

The Medieval Man­u­script That Fea­tures “Yoda”, Killer Snails, Sav­age Rab­bits & More: Dis­cov­er The Smith­field Dec­re­tals

How to Make a Medieval Man­u­script: An Intro­duc­tion in 7 Videos

When Medieval Man­u­scripts Were Recy­cled & Used to Make the First Print­ed Books

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. 

by | Permalink | Make a Comment ( 7 ) |

What’s the Most Banned Book of the 2024–25 School Year?: A Clockwork Orange

If you hap­pen to be a high school stu­dent in Flori­da who’s eager to read A Clock­work Orange, that urge may turn out to be hard­er to sat­is­fy than you imag­ine. Antho­ny Burgess’ har­row­ing, lin­guis­ti­cal­ly inven­tive nov­el of a grim near future has come out on top in PEN Amer­i­ca’s lat­est rank­ing of banned books: that is, books removed or pre­vent­ed even from enter­ing pub­lic school libraries, most com­mon­ly in the state of Flori­da, with Texas and Ten­nessee as run­ners-up. Fur­ther down the list appears anoth­er wide­ly known dystopi­an saga, Mar­garet Atwood’s The Handmaid’s Tale; Toni Mor­rison’s tale of Depres­sion-era race rela­tions The Bluest Eye; and even such long-pop­u­lar “young adult” stan­dards as Judy Blume’s For­ev­er and Stephen Chbosky’s The Perks of Being a Wall­flower.

Since its pub­li­ca­tion in 1962, “A Clock­work Orange has faced mul­ti­ple book ban­ning attempts due to the sex­u­al vio­lence it depicts,” says Carnegie Mel­lon Uni­ver­si­ty’s Banned Books Project. “In 1973, a book­seller in Orem, Utah, was arrest­ed for sell­ing the nov­el along with two oth­er ‘obscene’ books.”

Bans fol­lowed “in 1976 in Auro­ra, Col­orado, in 1977 in West­port, Con­necti­cut, and in 1982 in Annis­ton, Alaba­ma. As recent­ly as 2019, mem­bers of the Flori­da Cit­i­zens Alliance” — in yet anoth­er exam­ple of the sur­pris­ing ten­den­cy toward cul­tur­al author­i­tar­i­an­ism in the Sun­shine State — “have lob­bied to ban the book along with almost one hun­dred oth­er ‘porno­graph­ic’ nov­els.”

The noto­ri­ety of A Clock­work Orange in this regard prob­a­bly owes some­thing to the steely lurid­ness of Stan­ley Kubrick­’s film adap­ta­tion, which was banned in Eng­land by Kubrick him­self. It makes, in any case, for an iron­ic object of a book ban, giv­en its themes. Burgess was inspired to write this nov­el of juve­nile ultra-delin­quen­cy, as he explains in the inter­view clip above, by “talk in the nine­teen-six­ties of the pos­si­bil­i­ty of get­ting these young thugs and not putting them in jail, because jail is need­ed for pro­fes­sion­al crim­i­nals, but rather putting them through a course of con­di­tion­ing” to make them behave less like organ­isms than machines: the “clock­work oranges” of the title. The state, it seemed, “was all too ready to take over our brains and turn us into good lit­tle cit­i­zens with­out the pow­er of choice” — a process that plau­si­bly begins by restrict­ing the choice of read­ing mate­r­i­al.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

A Clock­work Orange Author Antho­ny Burgess Lists His Five Favorite Dystopi­an Nov­els: Orwell’s 1984, Huxley’s Island & More

Antho­ny Burgess Names the 99 Best Nov­els in Eng­lish Between 1939 & 1983: Orwell, Nabokov, Hux­ley & More

Why Maya Angelou’s Mem­oir I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings Became One of the Most Banned Books of All Time

The Brook­lyn Pub­lic Library Gives Every Teenag­er in the U.S. Free Access to Cen­sored Books

America’s First Banned Book: Dis­cov­er the 1637 Book That Mocked the Puri­tans

The New York Pub­lic Library Pro­vides Free Online Access to Banned Books: Catch­er in the Rye, Stamped & More

Based in Seoul, Col­in Marshall writes and broad­casts on cities, lan­guage, and cul­ture. His projects include the Sub­stack newslet­ter Books on Cities and the book The State­less City: a Walk through 21st-Cen­tu­ry Los Ange­les. Fol­low him on the social net­work for­mer­ly known as Twit­ter at @colinmarshall.

Carl Sagan’s Baloney Detection Kit: Tools for Thinking Critically & Knowing Pseudoscience When You See It

Though he died too young, Carl Sagan left behind an impres­sive­ly large body of work, includ­ing more than 600 sci­en­tif­ic papers and more than 20 books. Of those books, none is more wide­ly known to the pub­lic — or, still, more wide­ly read by the pub­lic — than Cos­mos, accom­pa­nied as it was by Cos­mos: A Per­son­al Voy­age, a com­pan­ion tele­vi­sion series on PBS. Sagan’s oth­er pop­u­lar books, like Shad­ows of For­got­ten Ances­tors or Con­tact (the basis of the 1997 Hol­ly­wood movie) are also well worth read­ing, but we per­haps ignore at our great­est per­il The Demon-Haunt­ed World: Sci­ence as a Can­dle in the Dark. Pub­lished in 1995, the year before Sagan’s death, it stands as his tes­ta­ment to the impor­tance of crit­i­cal, sci­en­tif­ic think­ing for all of us.

The Demon-Haunt­ed World is the sub­ject of the Genet­i­cal­ly Mod­i­fied Skep­tic video above, whose host Drew McCoy describes it as his favorite book. He pays spe­cial atten­tion to its chap­ter in which Sagan lays out what he calls his “baloney detec­tion kit.” This assem­bled metaphor­i­cal box of tools for diag­nos­ing fraud­u­lent argu­ments and con­struct­ing rea­soned ones involves these nine prin­ci­ples:

  • Wher­ev­er pos­si­ble there must be inde­pen­dent con­fir­ma­tion of the “facts.”
  • Encour­age sub­stan­tive debate on the evi­dence by knowl­edge­able pro­po­nents of all points of view.
  • Argu­ments from author­i­ty car­ry lit­tle weight — “author­i­ties” have made mis­takes in the past. They will do so again in the future. Per­haps a bet­ter way to say it is that in sci­ence there are no author­i­ties; at most, there are experts.
  • Spin more than one hypoth­e­sis. If there’s some­thing to be explained, think of all the dif­fer­ent ways in which it could be explained. Then think of tests by which you might sys­tem­at­i­cal­ly dis­prove each of the alter­na­tives.
  • Try not to get over­ly attached to a hypoth­e­sis just because it’s yours. It’s only a way sta­tion in the pur­suit of knowl­edge. Ask your­self why you like the idea. Com­pare it fair­ly with the alter­na­tives.
  • See if you can find rea­sons for reject­ing it. If you don’t, oth­ers will.
  • If what­ev­er it is you’re explain­ing has some mea­sure, some numer­i­cal quan­ti­ty attached to it, you’ll be much bet­ter able to dis­crim­i­nate among com­pet­ing hypothe­ses. What is vague and qual­i­ta­tive is open to many expla­na­tions.
  • If there’s a chain of argu­ment, every link in the chain must work (includ­ing the premise) — not just most of them.
  • Occam’s Razor. This con­ve­nient rule-of-thumb urges us when faced with two hypothe­ses that explain the data equal­ly well to choose the sim­pler. Always ask whether the hypoth­e­sis can be, at least in prin­ci­ple, fal­si­fied…. You must be able to check asser­tions out. Invet­er­ate skep­tics must be giv­en the chance to fol­low your rea­son­ing, to dupli­cate your exper­i­ments and see if they get the same result.

As McCoy points out, these tech­niques of mind have to do with can­cel­ing out the man­i­fold bias­es present in our think­ing, those nat­ur­al human ten­den­cies that incline us to accept ideas that may or may not coin­cide with real­i­ty as it is. If we take no trou­ble to cor­rect for these bias­es, Sagan came to believe, we’ll become easy marks for all the trick­sters and char­la­tans who hap­pen to come our way. And that’s just on the micro lev­el: on the macro lev­el, vul­ner­a­bil­i­ty to delu­sion can bring down entire civ­i­liza­tions.

“Like all tools, the baloney detec­tion kit can be mis­used, applied out of con­text, or even employed as a rote alter­na­tive to think­ing,” Sagan cau­tions. “But applied judi­cious­ly, it can make all the dif­fer­ence in the world — not least in eval­u­at­ing our own argu­ments before we present them to oth­ers.” McCoy urges us to heed these words, adding that “this kit is not some per­fect solu­tion to the world’s prob­lems, but as it’s been uti­lized over the last few cen­turies” — for its basic pre­cepts long pre­date Sagan’s par­tic­u­lar artic­u­la­tion — “it has enabled us to cre­ate tech­no­log­i­cal inno­va­tions and use­ful explana­to­ry mod­els of our world more quick­ly and effec­tive­ly than ever before.” The walls of baloney may always be clos­ing in on human­i­ty, but if you fol­low Sagan’s advice, you can at least give your­self some breath­ing room.

Relat­ed con­tent:

Carl Sagan on the Impor­tance of Choos­ing Wise­ly What You Read (Even If You Read a Book a Week)

Carl Sagan’s Syl­labus & Final Exam for His Course on Crit­i­cal Think­ing (Cor­nell, 1986)

Carl Sagan Pre­dicts the Decline of Amer­i­ca: Unable to Know “What’s True,” We Will Slide, “With­out Notic­ing, Back into Super­sti­tion & Dark­ness” (1995)

Richard Feyn­man Cre­ates a Sim­ple Method for Telling Sci­ence From Pseu­do­science (1966)

How to Spot Bull­shit: A Man­u­al by Prince­ton Philoso­pher Har­ry Frank­furt (RIP)

Crit­i­cal Think­ing: A Free Course

Based in Seoul, Col­in Marshall writes and broad­casts on cities, lan­guage, and cul­ture. His projects include the Sub­stack newslet­ter Books on Cities and the book The State­less City: a Walk through 21st-Cen­tu­ry Los Ange­les. Fol­low him on the social net­work for­mer­ly known as Twit­ter at @colinmarshall.

Explore a New Digital Edition of Printing Types, the Authoritative History of Printing & Typography from 1922

Times New Roman has been around since 1931, longer than most of us have been alive — and for longer than many of us have been alive, word-pro­cess­ing appli­ca­tions have come with it as the default font. We tend, there­fore, to regard it less as some­thing cre­at­ed than as some­thing for all intents and pur­pos­es eter­nal, but there was a time when pub­lish­ers had to active­ly adopt it. The first Amer­i­can firm to start using Times New Roman was the Mer­ry­mount Press, which had already made a high­ly pres­ti­gious name for itself with pub­li­ca­tions like the ele­gant Book of Com­mon Prayer financed by no less a cap­tain of indus­try than J. Pier­pont Mor­gan. But oth­er print­ers knew Mer­ry­mount for a book that would have inspired in them an equal­ly wor­ship­ful impulse.

“Released in 1922 with a lat­er revi­sion in 1937,” Print­ing Types: Their His­to­ry, Forms and Use “became known as the stan­dard work on the his­to­ry of [print­ing and typog­ra­phy] and a basic book for all inter­est­ed in the graph­ic arts. This two-vol­ume work spans near­ly 450 years and includes detailed analy­ses of the print­ers and type design­ers and their work.”

So writes the design­er Nicholas Rougeux, pre­vi­ous­ly fea­tured here on Open Cul­ture for his dig­i­tal edi­tions of vin­tage books like Illus­tra­tions of the Nat­ur­al Orders of Plants; British & Exot­ic Min­er­al­o­gy; A Mono­graph of the Trochilidæ, or Fam­i­ly of Hum­ming-Birds; Werner’s Nomen­cla­ture of Colours; Euclid’s Ele­ments, and Pierre-Joseph Red­outé’s col­lec­tions of rose and lily illus­tra­tions. His lat­est project to go live is a painstak­ing­ly assem­bled dig­i­tal edi­tion of Print­ing Types, which you can explore here.

That book was also orig­i­nal­ly the work of one man, Mer­ry­mount Press founder Daniel Berke­ley Updike. “Dur­ing his tenure at Har­vard Uni­ver­si­ty, he taught a course on Tech­nique of Print­ing in the Grad­u­ate School of Busi­ness Admin­is­tra­tion for five years,” Rougeux writes, “the lec­tures of which served as the basis for Print­ing Types.” In the book, Updike offers a his­to­ry of “the art of typog­ra­phy from the dawn of West­ern print­ing in the fif­teenth cen­tu­ry to the begin­ning of the twen­ti­eth — focus­ing pri­mar­i­ly on Euro­pean print­ing in Ger­many, France, Italy, the Nether­lands, Spain, and Eng­land as well as the Unit­ed States.” In trac­ing “the devel­op­ment of type design,” he also dis­cuss­es “the impor­tance of each his­toric peri­od and the lessons they con­tain for con­tem­po­rary design­ers.”

Orig­i­nal­ly pub­lished in 1922 and exten­sive­ly revised in 1937, Print­ing Types long stood as the author­i­ta­tive his­to­ry of typog­ra­phy in the Latin alpha­bet, with its “more than 360 fac­sim­i­le illus­tra­tions show­cas­ing exam­ples of typog­ra­phy, bor­ders, flow­ers, and pages pulled from the books cov­ered.” Track­ing down the sources of those illus­tra­tions con­sti­tut­ed no small part of the painstak­ing pro­duc­tion of Rougeux’s dig­i­tal edi­tion, and the 100 of them most high­ly praised by Updike have also been made avail­able for pur­chase in poster form. For those who do a lot of work with text, in print or dig­i­tal forms, it could pro­vide just as much moti­va­tion as an actu­al copy of Print­ing Types on the shelf to find our way beyond the defaults.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

The His­to­ry of Typog­ra­phy Told in Five Ani­mat­ed Min­utes

See How The Guten­berg Press Worked: Demon­stra­tion Shows the Old­est Func­tion­ing Guten­berg Press in Action

Dis­cov­er the First Illus­trat­ed Book Print­ed in Eng­lish, William Caxton’s Mir­ror of the World (1481)

The Art of Col­lo­type: See a Near Extinct Print­ing Tech­nique, as Lov­ing­ly Prac­ticed by a Japan­ese Mas­ter Crafts­man

Behold a Dig­i­ti­za­tion of “The Most Beau­ti­ful of All Print­ed Books,” The Kelm­scott Chaucer

Fonts in Use: Enter a Giant Archive of Typog­ra­phy, Fea­tur­ing 12,618 Type­faces

Based in Seoul, Col­in Marshall writes and broad­casts on cities, lan­guage, and cul­ture. His projects include the Sub­stack newslet­ter Books on Cities and the book The State­less City: a Walk through 21st-Cen­tu­ry Los Ange­les. Fol­low him on the social net­work for­mer­ly known as Twit­ter at @colinmarshall.

Seven Philosophy Books for Beginners: Where to Start

One espe­cial­ly appeal­ing aspect of phi­los­o­phy, as a field of study, is that you don’t have to go any­where to learn it but the library. And these days, you don’t nec­es­sar­i­ly have to go there, now that so many philo­soph­i­cal texts have become freely avail­able on the inter­net. In the video above, phi­los­o­phy YouTu­ber Jared Hen­der­son rec­om­mends sev­en books through which any­one can get a sol­id intro­duc­tion to the sub­ject. They are as fol­lows: Bertrand Rus­sell’s The Prob­lems of Phi­los­o­phy, Simon Black­burn’s Think, the com­plete works of Pla­to, Mar­cus Aure­lius Med­i­ta­tions, St. Augustine’s Con­fes­sions, René DescartesMed­i­ta­tions on First Phi­los­o­phy, and John Stu­art Mill’s On Lib­er­ty.

Why these books? Though writ­ten for the gen­er­al pub­lic, The Prob­lems of Phi­los­o­phy has also proven use­ful to Hen­der­son in teach­ing intro­duc­to­ry cours­es, not least thanks to Rus­sel­l’s elo­quent defense of philo­soph­i­cal study itself. Think, a more recent­ly writ­ten broad sur­vey, “intro­duces you to some top­ics that almost every­one is inter­est­ed in: free will, the prob­lems of knowl­edge and ratio­nal­i­ty, the exis­tence of God, the exis­tence of the self, the prob­lems of ethics.” And giv­en the scope of Pla­to’s writ­ings, if you care­ful­ly read through them all, you’ll be “a remark­ably dif­fer­ent per­son at the end of that process.”

The name of Mar­cus Aure­lius, who ruled the Roman Empire in the mid­dle of the sec­ond cen­tu­ry, has late­ly become an even bet­ter-known than it already was thanks to a resur­gence of pub­lic inter­est in Sto­icism. Hen­der­son rec­om­mends his Med­i­ta­tions as an exam­ple of “phi­los­o­phy as a way of life.” In the Con­fes­sions, Augus­tine blends “poet­ry, the­ol­o­gy, and phi­los­o­phy in a real­ly com­pelling way,” deal­ing with such mat­ters as “the nature of time,” “moti­va­tion and the will” and “the meta­physics of evil.” Descartes’ Med­i­ta­tions offers not just a primer on skep­ti­cism, but also the con­test for the famous line “I think, there­fore I am.” Mil­l’s On Lib­er­ty opens the path to trace mod­ern, much-thrown-around polit­i­cal notions (includ­ing the tit­u­lar one) back to their sources.

These books, as Hen­der­son stress­es, con­sti­tute a start­ing point, not a goal in them­selves. Read them, and you’ll get a much clear­er sense of what phi­los­o­phy deals with, but also where your own philo­soph­i­cal inter­ests lie. The field has a long his­to­ry, after all, and in that time it has grown so vast that no one, no mat­ter how seri­ous­ly ded­i­cat­ed, can walk all of its intel­lec­tu­al paths. What­ev­er the par­tic­u­lar realm of phi­los­o­phy to which your incli­na­tions take you, don’t be sur­prised if you find your­self revis­it­ing these very same books time and again. Nobody ever tru­ly mas­ters Pla­to, Mar­cus Aure­lius, Descartes, or Mill, and on some lev­el, phi­los­o­phy itself keeps its prac­ti­tion­ers eter­nal novices. The impor­tant thing is to cul­ti­vate and main­tain what the Zen Bud­dhists call “begin­ner’s mind” — but then, that’s a whole oth­er branch of phi­los­o­phy.

Relat­ed con­tent:

135 Free Phi­los­o­phy eBooks

Intro­duc­tion to Phi­los­o­phy: A Free Course

Philoso­phers Name the Best Phi­los­o­phy Books: From Sto­icism and Exis­ten­tial­ism, to Meta­physics & Ethics for Arti­fi­cial Intel­li­gence

Intro­duc­tion to Phi­los­o­phy: A Free Online Course from the Uni­ver­si­ty of Edin­burgh

Emi­nent Philoso­phers Name the 43 Most Impor­tant Phi­los­o­phy Books Writ­ten Between 1950–2000: Wittgen­stein, Fou­cault, Rawls & More

A Flow­chart of Philo­soph­i­cal Nov­els: Read­ing Rec­om­men­da­tions from Haru­ki Muraka­mi to Don DeLil­lo

Based in Seoul, Col­in Marshall writes and broad­casts on cities, lan­guage, and cul­ture. His projects include the Sub­stack newslet­ter Books on Cities and the book The State­less City: a Walk through 21st-Cen­tu­ry Los Ange­les. Fol­low him on the social net­work for­mer­ly known as Twit­ter at @colinmarshall.

Why Knights Fought Snails in Medieval Illuminated Manuscripts

The snail may leave a trail of slime behind him, but a lit­tle slime will do a man no harm… whilst if you dance with drag­ons, you must expect to burn.

- George R. R. Mar­tin, The Mys­tery Knight

As any Game of Thrones fan knows, being a knight has its down­sides. It isn’t all pow­er, glo­ry, advan­ta­geous mar­riages and gifts rang­ing from cas­tles to bags of gold.

Some­times you have to fight a tru­ly for­mi­da­ble oppo­nent.

We’re not talk­ing about bun­nies here, though there’s plen­ty of doc­u­men­ta­tion to sug­gest medieval rab­bits were tough cus­tomers.

As Vox Almanac’s Phil Edwards explains, above, the many snails lit­ter­ing the mar­gins of 13th-cen­tu­ry man­u­scripts were also fear­some foes.

Boars, lions, and bears we can under­stand, but … snails? Why?

The­o­ries abound.

Detail from Brunet­to Latini’s Li Livres dou Tre­sor

Edwards favors the one in medieval­ist Lil­ian M. C. Randall’s 1962 essay “The Snail in Goth­ic Mar­gin­al War­fare.”

Ran­dall, who found some 70 instances of man-on-snail com­bat in 29 man­u­scripts dat­ing from the late 1200s to ear­ly 1300s, believed that the tiny mol­lusks were stand ins for the Ger­man­ic Lom­bards who invad­ed Italy in the 8th cen­tu­ry.

After Charle­magne trounced the Lom­bards in 772, declar­ing him­self King of Lom­bardy, the van­quished turned to usury and pawn­broking, earn­ing the enmi­ty of the rest of the pop­u­lace, even those who required their ser­vices.

Their pro­fes­sion con­ferred pow­er of a sort, the kind that tends to get one labelled cow­ard­ly, greedy, mali­cious … and easy to put down.

Which rather begs the ques­tion why the knights going toe-to- …uh, fac­ing off against them in the mar­gins of these illu­mi­nat­ed man­u­scripts look so damn intim­i­dat­ed.

(Con­verse­ly why was Rex Harrison’s Dr. Dolit­tle so unafraid of the Giant Pink Sea Snail?)

Detail from from MS. Roy­al 10 IV E (aka the Smith­field Dec­re­tals)

Let us remem­ber that the doo­dles in medieval mar­gin­a­lia are edi­to­r­i­al car­toons wrapped in enig­mas, much as today’s memes would seem, 800 years from now. What­ev­er point—or joke—the scribe was mak­ing, it’s been obscured by the mists of time.

And these things have a way of evolv­ing. The snail vs. knight motif dis­ap­peared in the 14th-cen­tu­ry, only to resur­face toward the end of the 15th, when any exist­ing sig­nif­i­cance would very like­ly have been tai­lored to fit the times.

Detail from The Mac­cles­field Psalter

Oth­er the­o­ries that schol­ars, art his­to­ri­ans, blog­gers, and arm­chair medieval­ists have float­ed with regard to the sym­bol­ism of these rough and ready snails haunt­ing the mar­gins:

The Res­ur­rec­tion

The high cler­gy, shrink­ing from prob­lems of the church

The slow­ness of time

The insu­la­tion of the rul­ing class

The aristocracy’s oppres­sion of the poor

A cri­tique of social climbers

Female sex­u­al­i­ty (isn’t every­thing?)

Vir­tu­ous humil­i­ty, as opposed to knight­ly pride

The snail’s reign of ter­ror in the gar­den (not so sym­bol­ic, per­haps…)

A prac­ti­cal-mind­ed Red­dit com­menter offers the fol­low­ing com­men­tary:

I like to imag­ine a monk draw­ing out his fan­tas­ti­cal day­dreams, the snail being his neme­sis, leav­ing unsight­ly trails across the page and him build­ing up in his head this great vic­to­ry where­in he van­quish­es them for­ev­er, nev­er again to be plagued by the beast­ly bug­gers while cre­at­ing his mas­ter­pieces.

Read­ers, any oth­er ideas?

Detail from The Gor­leston Psalter

Note: An ear­li­er ver­sion of this post appeared on our site in 2019.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Killer Rab­bits in Medieval Man­u­scripts: Why So Many Draw­ings in the Mar­gins Depict Bun­nies Going Bad

Medieval Cats Behav­ing Bad­ly: Kit­ties That Left Paw Prints … and Peed … on 15th Cen­tu­ry Man­u­scripts

The Aberdeen Bes­tiary, One of the Great Medieval Illu­mi­nat­ed Man­u­scripts, Now Dig­i­tized in High Res­o­lu­tion & Made Avail­able Online

A Rab­bit Rides a Char­i­ot Pulled by Geese in an Ancient Roman Mosa­ic (2nd cen­tu­ry AD)

Ayun Hal­l­i­day is an author, illus­tra­tor, the­ater mak­er in New York City.

by | Permalink | Make a Comment ( 2 ) |

2,178 Occult Books Now Digitized & Put Online, Thanks to the Ritman Library and Da Vinci Code Author Dan Brown

In 2018 we brought you some excit­ing news. Thanks to a gen­er­ous dona­tion from Da Vin­ci Code author Dan Brown, Amsterdam’s Rit­man Library—a siz­able col­lec­tion of pre-1900 books on alche­my, astrol­o­gy, mag­ic, and oth­er occult subjects—has been dig­i­tiz­ing thou­sands of its rare texts under a dig­i­tal edu­ca­tion project cheek­i­ly called “Her­met­i­cal­ly Open.” We are now pleased to report that the first 2,178 books from the Rit­man project have come avail­able in their online read­ing room.

Vis­i­tors should be aware that these books are writ­ten in sev­er­al dif­fer­ent Euro­pean lan­guages. Latin, the schol­ar­ly lan­guage of Europe through­out the Medieval and Ear­ly Mod­ern peri­ods, pre­dom­i­nates, and it’s a pecu­liar Latin at that, laden with jar­gon and alchem­i­cal ter­mi­nol­o­gy. Oth­er books appear in Ger­man, Dutch, and French. Read­ers of some or all of these lan­guages will of course have an eas­i­er time than mono­lin­gual Eng­lish speak­ers, but there is still much to offer those vis­i­tors as well.

In addi­tion to the plea­sure of pag­ing through an old rare book, even vir­tu­al­ly, Eng­lish speak­ers can quick­ly find a col­lec­tion of read­able books by click­ing on the “Place of Pub­li­ca­tion” search fil­ter and select­ing Cam­bridge or Lon­don, from which come such notable works as The Man-Mouse Takin in a Trap, and tortur’d to death for gnaw­ing the Mar­gins of Euge­nius Phi­lalethes, by Thomas Vaugh­an, pub­lished in 1650.

The lan­guage is archaic—full of quirky spellings and uses of the “long s”—and the con­tent is bizarre. Those famil­iar with this type of writ­ing, whether through his­tor­i­cal study or the work of more recent inter­preters like Aleis­ter Crow­ley or Madame Blavatsky, will rec­og­nize the many for­mu­las: The trac­ing of mag­i­cal cor­re­spon­dences between flo­ra, fau­na, and astro­nom­i­cal phe­nom­e­na; the care­ful pars­ing of names; astrol­o­gy and lengthy lin­guis­tic ety­molo­gies; numero­log­i­cal dis­cours­es and philo­soph­i­cal poet­ry; ear­ly psy­chol­o­gy and per­son­al­i­ty typ­ing; cryp­tic, cod­ed mythol­o­gy and med­ical pro­ce­dures. Although we’ve grown accus­tomed through pop­u­lar media to think­ing of mag­i­cal books as cook­books, full of recipes and incan­ta­tions, the real­i­ty is far dif­fer­ent.

Encoun­ter­ing the vast and strange trea­sures in the online library, one thinks of the type of the magi­cian rep­re­sent­ed in Goethe’s Faust, holed up in his study,

Where even the wel­come day­light strains
But duski­ly through the paint­ed panes.
Hemmed in by many a top­pling heap
Of books worm-eat­en, gray with dust,
Which to the vault­ed ceil­ing creep

The library doesn’t only con­tain occult books. Like the weary schol­ar Faust, alchemists of old “stud­ied now Phi­los­o­phy / And Jurispru­dence, Med­i­cine,— / And even, alas! The­ol­o­gy.” Click on Cam­bridge as the place of pub­li­ca­tion and you’ll find the work above by Hen­ry More, “one of the cel­e­brat­ed ‘Cam­bridge Pla­ton­ists,’” the Lin­da Hall Library notes, “who flour­ished in mid-17th-cen­tu­ry and did their best to rec­on­cile Pla­to with Chris­tian­i­ty and the mechan­i­cal phi­los­o­phy that was begin­ning to make inroads into British nat­ur­al phi­los­o­phy.” Those who study Euro­pean intel­lec­tu­al his­to­ry know well that More’s pres­ence in this col­lec­tion is no anom­aly. For a few hun­dred years, it was dif­fi­cult, if not impos­si­ble, to sep­a­rate the pur­suits of the­ol­o­gy, phi­los­o­phy, med­i­cine, and sci­ence (or “nat­ur­al phi­los­o­phy”) from those of alche­my and astrol­o­gy. (Isaac New­ton is a famous exam­ple of a mathematician/scientist/alchemist/believer in strange apoc­a­lyp­tic pre­dic­tions.) Enter the Rit­man’s new dig­i­tal col­lec­tion of occult texts here.

Note: An ear­li­er ver­sion of this post appeared on our site in 2018.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

A Big Archive of Occult Record­ings: His­toric Audio Lets You Hear Trances, Para­nor­mal Music, Glos­so­lalia & Oth­er Strange Sounds (1905–2007)

Dis­cov­er The Key of Hell, an Illus­trat­ed 18th-Cen­tu­ry Guide to Black Mag­ic (1775)

Isaac Newton’s Recipe for the Myth­i­cal ‘Philosopher’s Stone’ Is Being Dig­i­tized & Put Online (Along with His Oth­er Alche­my Man­u­scripts)

Aleis­ter Crow­ley Reads Occult Poet­ry in the Only Known Record­ings of His Voice (1920)

The Sur­re­al Paint­ings of the Occult Magi­cian, Writer & Moun­taineer, Aleis­ter Crow­ley

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. 

by | Permalink | Make a Comment ( 2 ) |

A Man Read 3,599 Books Over 60 Years, and Now His Family Has Shared the Entire List Online

Dan Pelz­er died ear­li­er this year at the age of 92, leav­ing behind a hand­writ­ten list of all the books he’d read since 1962. His fam­i­ly had it dig­i­tized, put it online, and now it’s gone viral, some­what to the sur­prise of those of us who’d nev­er heard of him before. But that, it seems, is how the unpre­pos­sess­ing Pelz­er him­self would have want­ed it, accord­ing to the impres­sion giv­en by his grown chil­dren when inter­viewed about the pop­u­lar­i­ty of their father’s more than 100-page-long read­ing list. He began keep­ing it when he was sta­tioned in Nepal as a Peace Corps vol­un­teer, and kept it up until the end of his read­ing days in 2023, long after he retired from his job as a social work­er at an Ohio juve­nile cor­rec­tion­al facil­i­ty.

Exam­ined togeth­er, whether in the form of a com­plete scan or a search­able PDF, the 3,599 books, most of them checked out from the library, that Pelz­er record­ed hav­ing read con­sti­tute a per­son­al cul­tur­al his­to­ry of the past six decades. Described as a devout Catholic, he cer­tain­ly seems to have been con­sis­tent in his pur­suit of an inter­est in not just the his­to­ry of Chris­tian­i­ty in par­tic­u­lar, but the his­to­ry of west­ern civ­i­liza­tion in gen­er­al.

It comes as no sur­prise to see him dig into Will and Ariel Duran­t’s The Sto­ry of Civ­i­liza­tion series in the ear­ly nine­teen-eight­ies, slight­ly star­tling though it is that he read its eleven vol­umes in an appar­ent­ly ran­dom order. This habit turns out to be char­ac­ter­is­tic: though reput­ed to fin­ish every book he start­ed, he only got around to six vol­umes of Antho­ny Pow­ell’s A Dance to the Music of Time, start­ing with the eleventh and end­ing with the tenth.

Inter­spersed with the books of The Sto­ry of Civ­i­liza­tion are the likes of Philip Caputo’s A Rumor of War, John Irv­ing’s The World Accord­ing to Garp, and three nov­els by Ken Fol­lett. Though abid­ing­ly con­cerned with the sto­ry of mankind, Pelz­er appears also to have had a weak­ness for genre thrillers (he’s remem­bered as a big John Grisham fan) and top­i­cal books-of-the-moment. But whether read­ing at high‑, low‑, or mid­dle­brow lev­el, he seems to have been will­ing to give all major reli­gions and polit­i­cal philoso­phies, as well as some minor ones, a fair hear­ing — or rather, a fair read­ing. This makes for strik­ing jux­ta­po­si­tions in his list: Ayn Rand fol­lowed by L. Ron Hub­bard, Ta-Nehisi Coates by Jonathan Haidt. In that respect, he was, per­haps, the ide­al of the engaged, “demo­c­ra­t­ic” com­mon read­er one imag­ines pop­u­lat­ing Amer­i­ca while some­how nev­er encoun­ter­ing. If his list rais­es the ques­tion of why he did­n’t go into a more intel­lec­tu­al­ly ambi­tious line of work, it also, in a way, answers it: what time would that have left him to read?

Relat­ed con­tent:

Joseph Brodsky’s List of 83 Books You Should Read to Have an Intel­li­gent Con­ver­sa­tion

29 Lists of Rec­om­mend­ed Books Cre­at­ed by Well-Known Authors, Artists & Thinkers: Jorge Luis Borges, Pat­ti Smith, Neil DeGrasse Tyson, David Bowie & More

Oliv­er Sacks’ Rec­om­mend­ed Read­ing List of 46 Books: From Plants and Neu­ro­science, to Poet­ry and the Prose of Nabokov

Carl Sagan’s Ambi­tious Col­lege Read­ing List: Pla­to, Shake­speare, Gide, and Plen­ty of Phi­los­o­phy, Math & Physics (1954)

David Fos­ter Wallace’s Sur­pris­ing List of His 10 Favorite Books, from C. S. Lewis to Tom Clan­cy

100 Books to Read in a Life­time

Based in Seoul, Col­in Marshall writes and broad­casts on cities, lan­guage, and cul­ture. His projects include the Sub­stack newslet­ter Books on Cities and the book The State­less City: a Walk through 21st-Cen­tu­ry Los Ange­les. Fol­low him on the social net­work for­mer­ly known as Twit­ter at @colinmarshall.

« Go BackMore in this category... »
Quantcast