Song of the Vikings
As I’ve mentioned before, My Own True Love and I are in countdown mode for a history nerd trip to Iceland. As a result, my head is full of Vikings. *
We’re going on a tour based on Nancy Marie Brown’s excellent Song of the Vikings: Snorri and the Making of Norse Myths. The heart of Brown’s book is the thirteenth century Icelandic poet, chieftain, and schemer Snorri Sturluson, whose poetry is the source of much of what we know about Viking culture and Norse mythology.** Brown uses Snorri as a lens through which to discuss Norse mythology, the complicated world of medieval Iceland, and the even more complicated aesthetics of skaldic poetry.*** Some of the most interesting parts of the book deal with the cultural impact of Snorri’s poetry on later artists–think Wagner, Tolkien, Gaiman, Marvel Comics.
Brown is an excellent story teller. If you’re interested in Tolkien, Vikings, medieval history, or the roots of Thor and Loki, I strongly recommend Song of the Vikings.
Stay tuned for breaking news from the field.
*Not to mention hiking boots, sunscreen, flexible layers, water bottles, and an overseas phone plan.
**It’s important to point out that the Viking period is generally defined as lasting from the eighth through the eleventh centuries. When he’s writing about the Iceland of his time, he’s a primary source; when he’s writing about Norse mythology he’s an oral historian. Or at least that’s my humble take on it.
***James Joyce is a breeze by comparison.
Are You Listening to History?
Over the last three years I’ve become a fan of podcasts. They’re great to listen to when I’m doing things that require my hands and eyes but only a small part of my brain: chopping vegetables, washing dishes, reconciling bank statements, sorting through the pile of mystery papers on the floor next to my desk. For the most part, I listen to podcasts about the craft and business of writing,* with an occasional side trip into popular culture. **
Recently I had a revelation. (You see where this is going, right?)
In the course of research, I stumbled across New Books In History: a podcast that interviews academic historians about their work. I’m glad I found it. The interviews are well done, but definitely academic in scope and tone. It’s more like listening to a college lecture than two smart, opinionated and funny writers discussing narrative structure and character development in The Philadelphia Story. *** And it’s a nuisance to stop what I’m doing to take a note. Which I often want to do. Because these people are smart.
But beyond its intrinsic value, NBH made me think “History podcasts!” and “Duh!” A quick glance at the choices in iTunes was both overwhelming and dispiriting. I downloaded several that seemed to meet my criteria: broad interests held together by a set of personal historical concerns on the part of the podcaster(s), a quirky aesthetic that doesn’t descend into farce, an appealing voice.**** In short, the podcast equivalent of History in the Margins.***** Once I find a few I like, I’ll share.
But in the meantime, I’m hoping you’ll share. Do you listen to podcasts? How do you find them? Are there history podcasts you love? History podcasts you hate? What makes a good history podcast? Etc.
I really want to know.
* If that’s your thing, I strongly recommend the various podcasts put out by the people at Storywonk and Dan Blank’s Dabblers v Do-ers.
**Or better yet, popular culture as a vehicle for understanding narrative structure.
***The Popcorn Dialogues. They stopped recording in 2012, but there is lots of good stuff here,
****Literally as well as metaphorically. The voices on some podcasts that I listen to regularly drive My Own True Love out of the kitchen.
*****Yes, yes. I’ve thought about it. But not any time soon.
Female Samurai: Warriors and Otherwise
Female samurais are stock figures in modern anime, manga, western comic books, and fantasy novels: hard-fighting, often hard-drinking, badasses with swords and bows. The key word is fantasy.
In medieval Japan, samurai was a class distinction as well as a job description. Women who were born into the samurai class were samurais whether or not they were warriors. As members of the warrior class, they shared the martial code of loyalty and honor known as bushido. Many of them were trained to use the naginata–a deadly scythe-like weapon–and carried razor-sharp daggers on their belts. They shared the disgrace when their male relations failed on the battlefield, following them into exile and even death.
Only a few samurai women became samurai warriors, but their stories are a constant thread through Japanese history. The most famous was the twelfth century warrior Tomoe Gozen, who fought alongside Minamoto Kiso Yoshinaka in the Gempei War* and collected enemy heads as battle trophies just like one of the guys. Her story became the subject of songs and a popular Noh play. But Tomoe was not the only female samurai to fight in Japan’s seemingly interminable internal wars. Tsuruhime, known as the sea princess of Omishimia, defended that island against expansionist threats from the Japanese mainland in 1541. Thirty-six years later, Ueno Tsuruhime led thirty-three other women in a suicidal charge against the army of a rival warlord–preferring to die in battle than commit the ritual suicide prescribed by her husband. (The tactic failed. The besieging samurai proved reluctant to kill women who fought back.) Near the end of the Amakusa rebellion in 1589-90, the wife of the castle commander of the largely Christian stronghold at Hondo and several hundred other women cut off their long hair, tied up the hems of their kimonos, armed themselves with weapons and rosaries, and sortied from the broken castle gate in a final desperate attack.
Even in nineteenth century, when the world of the samurai was coming to an end, some women from samurai families joined their fathers, husbands and brothers on the battlefield against the forces of the Meiji emperor. In Daughters of the Samurai, Janice Nimura tells the story of one young woman who tried to take a more active role in the Satsuma Rebellion of 1877. With her family stronghold under siege, “the teenager scavenged pieces of discarded armor, chopped off her hair, pulled down the corners of her mouth in a classic samurai grimace, and announced that she was off to join the fighting.” In her case, the samurai value of obedience won out over the samurai value of courage–when her mother forbade her to leave the castle she stayed put. But other women, old enough or stubborn enough not to be controlled by parental commands, chose to fight rather than fulfill more traditional roles related to the defense of a stronghold or commit ritual suicide. In one extraordinary case, Kawahara Asako decapitated her mother-in-law and daughter to save them from dishonor at the hands of the enemy before she took up her naginata and joined the fight against the imperial army.
With the exception of Tomoe Gozen, who appears to have fought because she was good at it, these stories share common themes of defense and desperation. A far cry from their modern pop culture descendants.
*In which two samurai clans–the Taira and the Minamoto–duked it out for control of Japan. The Gempei War ended with the Minamoto’s victorious establishment of the first shogunate–a form of government by military dictatorship in the name of a puppet emperor that would last in various forms from 1192 to 1867. In case you were curious.