(This essay was originally published in Boundless Magazine in March of 2020, which is no longer available to read. This post is an archival attempt).
Novelist Samantha Shannon writes about old stories, new readings and how the legend of Saint George and the Dragon led her to a feminist retelling
New takes on familiar narratives seem to be enjoying a renaissance in recent years – the flood of them shows no sign of abating – but they are part of a tradition as old as storytelling itself. From the small variations in oral lore to the never-ending conveyor belt of film reboots, human beings have longed to both revive and modify the stories of the past.
Retellings have, in fact, been ubiquitous in the literature of the last decade. Beauty and the Beast alone has inspired Heart’s Blood (2009) by Juliet Marillier, Of Beast and Beauty (2013) by Stacey Jay, Cruel Beauty (2014) by Rosamund Hodge, A Court of Thorns and Roses (2015) by Sarah J. Maas, Barefoot on the Wind (2016) by Zoë Marriott, In the Vanishers’ Palace (2018) by Aliette de Bodard, A Curse So Dark and Lonely (2019) by Brigid Kemmerer, and more – the story has been reworked on an almost annual basis for several years.
The Little Mermaid has also sparked its own mini-genre, including The Seafarer’s Kiss (2017) by Julia Ember, To Kill a Kingdom (2018) by Alexandra Christo, The Surface Breaks (2018) by Louise O’Neill and Sea Witch (2018) by Sarah Henning.
Famous Western fairy tales – particularly those that have received the Disney treatment – remain popular sources, but more and more, as publishing diversifies and broadens its horizons, authors have branched out into lesser-known folk tales from Europe, and into myths and legends from the rest of the world. Beowulf gets an all-female reboot in The Boneless Mercies (2018) by April Genevieve Tucholke; Scheherazade weaves her stories again in The Wrath and the Dawn (2015) by Renée Ahdieh; and the ancient Indian epic, the Mahābhārata, is played out as a space opera in A Spark of White Fire (2018) by Sangu Mandanna. There are numerous retellings of authored historical works that have passed into the public domain, and others that revise history itself. Blood and Sand (2018) by C. V. Wyk imagines the Thracian warrior Spartacus as a young woman; And I Darken (2016) by Kiersten White gives Vlad the Impaler the same treatment.
We thrive on the timeless and familiar tales that speak across decades, centuries and millennia. At the same time, we like to have our expectations thwarted, and to see these stories defamiliarised. The joy of tropes lies not just in recognition, after all, but in subversion – and destruction. Within a single retelling, an author usually remains faithful to the original and breaks away from it. The number and nature of the changes depend on the author, and give clues as to their motive in re-approaching a story.
Sometimes that motive is to create a homage, sometimes to entertain or inform a new generation. Often, however, it is a need to respond to the source material – to wrestle with it, to correct it, to flesh out its gaps, and to otherwise interrogate it. Wide Sargasso Sea (1966) by Jean Rhys is perhaps the most famous example of this category of retelling, directly intervening in and re-framing Jane Eyre in a postcolonial and intersectional feminist context. ‘When I read Jane Eyre as a child, I thought, why should [Charlotte Brontë] think Creole women are lunatics and all that?’ Rhys recalled. ‘What a shame to make Rochester’s first wife, Bertha, the awful mad woman, and I immediately thought I’d write the story as it might really have been. She seemed such a poor ghost. I thought I’d try to write her a life.’ More recently, The Silence of the Girls (2018) by Pat Barker gives us the female perspective that Homer failed to provide in the Iliad. ‘[Briseis] has no opinion, she has no power, she has no voice,’ Barker points out. ‘It was the urge to fill that vacuum that made me go back and start retelling the myth yet again.’
Feminist retellings have been on the rise, and for good reason. We are recovering and reclaiming the women of history and literature, giving them the voices they have long been denied. We are breaking their silences, gifting them control of their own fates, and leading them into narratives that were once closed to them. For me, the desire to write such a retelling first stemmed from frustration, then anger, with a legend and a figure that have loomed over my country for almost a thousand years.
In April 2015, I started a novel, The Priory of the Orange Tree. One of my aims in writing it was to contest and rework the story of Saint George and the Dragon – a story I first encountered at my Anglican primary school. The ultimate illustration of the ‘damsel in distress’ trope; most people will know it only for its three key ingredients, which have endured for centuries. There is a brave knight, a princess in need of rescue, and a dragon bent on destroying them both. In a selfless act of courage and gallantry, the knight slays the dragon, either with a lance or a sword. It’s the story told by the 1931 hymn, When a Knight Won His Spurs, which I often sang at school. This is the morality tale we tell again and again, easy for both children and adults to understand and absorb. The knight is the good guy, the dragon is the bad guy, and the princess … well, she’s the not-guy, the trophy in the middle. Tale as old as time.
‘St. George was typical of what a Scout should be,’ wrote Robert Baden-Powell in Scouting for Boys (1908). ‘When he was faced by a difficulty or danger, however great it appeared, even in the shape of a dragon – he did not avoid it or fear it but went at it with all the power he could […] That is exactly the way a Scout should face a difficulty or danger no matter how great or how terrifying it may appear.’
Baden-Powell sums up what many people like about Saint George, and why his legend endures. At its heart, after all, his story seems to be about overcoming adversity. About good and evil. Surely there is no more ancient or relatable tale. Scratch beneath the surface, however, and you will find that its roots are infested with rot.
The story had never sat right with me. As a child, I remember stubbornly remaining silent as other pupils sang the lyric ‘and the dragons are dead’ in When A Knight Won His Spurs, such was my love of all things draconic. I resented the knight for destroying what was magical and thrilling. As I grew older and discovered feminism, the seed of rebellion against Saint George began to blossom. Now it was the passivity of the princess that troubled me. I knew I wanted to give this story a much-needed feminist update – to give the damsel a voice and a story – but to best decide how to approach my retelling, I first had to go back to its beginnings.
There are many variants of the legend of Saint George. The historical figure, if he existed, is thought to have been a Christian soldier from Cappadocia – a part of what is now modern-day Turkey – who was executed by the Roman emperor Diocletian in 303 AD. Various sources tell us of his acts, his suffering at the hands of his persecutors, and his martyrdom. In 1098, Frankish crusaders at the Siege of Antioch claimed Saint George had appeared to them in white armour, leading a heavenly host. In 1348, Edward III made George a patron of the Order of the Garter alongside Edward the Confessor. He displaced Edmund the Martyr and today remains the patron saint of several countries, including England.
The confrontation with the dragon is thought to have been an eleventh-century addition to the narrative that originated in Georgia. In Christian symbolism, the dragon – like the serpent – is associated with Satanic evil; we see this in the seven-headed dragon of the Book of Revelation. One can see how a military saint ended up with such an enemy. The famous deed was introduced to Europe in The Golden Legend; or, the Lives of the Saints (1265) by Jacobus da Voragine.
The Golden Legend tells us that in Libya, in the city of Silene, a dragon is poisoning the water and the air. The people send it sheep to appease it, and when their supply of sheep is exhausted, they start to sacrifice their children by lottery. Eventually, the king’s daughter is chosen. Her father dresses her as a bride before he sends her to her doom. Saint George, who is passing on his way back to Cappadocia, grievously wounds the dragon and tells the princess to tie her belt around its neck, which tames it. (This event can be seen in a 1470 oil painting by Paolo Uccello, which has the dragon already on a leash by the time George strikes it with a lance). So far, so relatively familiar – until George has the princess lead the dragon back to Silene and declares to its people, ‘Doubt not. Believe in God and Jesus Christ, and be baptised, and I shall slay the dragon.’
Saint George has a reputation as a courageous gallant. Here, his gallantry comes with conditions. Only after the people agree to accept Christianity does George behead the dragon. In their pain lies opportunity.
The impression of Saint George as a heroic figure was forged, in part, by The Golden Legend. Of course, nowadays we neglect to mention that in this famous origin story, our patron saint expected a city of frightened and traumatised people to convert to his religion before he had the decency to rid them of a child-eating monster. We also neglect to mention the active role of the princess. In the earliest surviving version of the legend, which is set in the fictional city of Lasia, the king is identified as Selbios, while his daughter is referred to only as kórē (‘girl, maiden’). Da Voragine chooses not to give her or her father a name in his retelling. However, in both versions, what took me by surprise was that the maiden speaks – in fact, she advises George to leave her and save his own skin – and that she has the mettle to lead the wounded dragon back to the city. George invites her to participate in its downfall. He also, notably, does not claim her as his bride, even though her father has dressed her up like one.
The princess seems to have received the name Cleodolinda, later Cleolinda, at some point in the fourteenth century. While the reasons this name was chosen are unclear, it suited the new story I wanted to write for my update on the character – Cleo presumably derives from the Greek kleos (‘glory, enduring renown’), while Linda could refer to the Germanic lind (‘soft, mild, gentle’). It speaks of two natures. I decided to adapt this as a character name, Cleolind, for the courageous princess who refuses to marry my George-figure, Sir Galian Berethnet, in The Priory of the Orange Tree – even though most of the world believes she was his bride, and a meek damsel.
The princess in the legend of Saint George sometimes appears under another name – Sabra. Chasing the origin of this name led me to a second distinct tradition of George and the Dragon stories, shaped by the chivalric romances of the Middle Ages, which distanced it somewhat from the Greek original.
Saint George’s roots in modern-day Turkey often seem to be forgotten or ignored by his supporters, who vehemently defend his red cross and appear to view him as a divine defender of Europe and Christianity in much the same way the Frankish crusaders did in 1098. While this wilful blindness is clearly due to racism and xenophobia in the majority of cases, one local myth specifically links the saint to Caludon Castle in Coventry. This myth can be traced back to a dense, prolix, and deeply problematic text from 1596, The Most Famous History of the Seven Champions of Christendom – also known as The Renowned History of the Seven Champions of Christendom – by Richard Johnson. Although Johnson was prolific, little is known of his life. Obscure today, but a hit among Elizabethan readers, The Renowned History does away with the idea of George as a soldier in the Roman army and rewrites him as an Englishman.
Born in Coventry to noble parents, bearing symbolic birthmarks, the Renowned History incarnation of Saint George is abducted not long after his birth by a ‘fell enchantress’ named Kalyb – also known as ‘the wise lady of the woods’ and, in a later retelling, ‘the weïrd lady of the woods’ – who raises him. After fourteen years, Kalyb, who has by now fallen in love with her young ward, gifts him a trusty steed, fine armour, and a Cyclops-made sword, Ascalon. She also reveals to him that she’s been hoarding a collection of dead children in her cave and has imprisoned six men – the patron saints of France, Ireland, Spain, Portugal, Scotland and Wales. Repulsed, George tricks Kalyb into surrendering her silver wand, traps her in the cave, and liberates the captive knights. The Seven Champions of Christendom then head into the world to forge their legacies. Kalyb, meanwhile, is left to be torn apart by evil spirits.
Kalyb – variously reincarnated under the names Kalyba, Calyb(a) or Calyt – is a ghostly footnote in the Saint George mythos. A powerful witch and oracle who gives George the tools he needs to survive the dragon, she becomes infatuated with him to the point that her happiness is dependent on his returning her love (‘she placed her whole felicity in him, and lusted after his beauty’). Her name is reminiscent of the Ancient Greek kalúbē (‘hut, wedding bower’), suggesting a domestic chokehold. George despises her from the start, apparently able to sense her wickedness despite the gifts she lavishes on him. This female magician who predates Prospero could have made for a deeply compelling villain, but instead, Johnson stuffs her into the proverbial refrigerator soon as her sole narrative purpose is fulfilled.
Separating from his new companions, George rides to Egypt, where a king named Ptolemy, like Selbios before him, is plagued by a flesh-eating dragon. This one is appeased only by the bodies of virgins – and the last virgin in Egypt happens to be Ptolemy’s own daughter, Sabra. Whomsoever slays the beast will have her hand in marriage. During the ensuing battle, George takes shelter under an orange tree, which is of such ‘rare virtue’ that it heals, protects and refreshes him. After he slays the beast, the lovesick Sabra tells George that she will ‘leave her parents, country, and inheritance, though that inheritance be the Crown of Egypt, and would follow thee as a pilgrim through the wide world’. George decides to test her patience. ‘Lady of Egypt,’ he baffles, ‘art thou not content that I have risked my own life to preserve yours, but you would also sacrifice my honour, give over the chase of dazzling glory; lay all my warlike trophies in a woman’s lap, and change my truncheon for a distaff.’
He suggests that she should accept the suit of the Moroccan king Almidor. When she chafes at the idea, George states that he could never marry a pagan (‘I honour God in heaven; you, shadows earthly of a vile imposter here below’). Sabra immediately agrees to ‘forsake [her] country’s gods and become a Christian’ if only they can wed. She is willing to throw away her entire life – everything that defines her, from her royal inheritance to her faith – to become his bride.
When it isn’t slipping into the realm of the ridiculous, The Renowned History paints an ugly and disturbing portrait of Saint George. He is not someone you would ever wish to meet. Throughout the nightmare he calls the ‘adventures’ of the saint, Johnson mimics the racial and religious Othering of medieval romances, often linking both Christianity and whiteness to integrity. (His knowledge of non-Christian religions, and the world in general, can only be described as deplorable. More than once he mentions Termagant, a violent deity erroneously ascribed to Islam by Christians in the Middle Ages). Whatever actions George takes, no matter how repugnant, Johnson continues to present him as a worthy national hero. Incredibly, he describes George as an ‘innocent lamb’ almost immediately before he commits a horrifying massacre of Persian knights.
Here ends another telling of the age-old confrontation between man and wyrm, with George languishing in prison for this crime. He is eventually reunited with Sabra, who bears him three sons. After many trials, including an attempted rape by the Earl of Coventry that almost sees her burned at the stake (George rescues her, naturally), Sabra dies by falling off her horse during a hunt, right into a bramble bush. Its thorns – ‘more sharp than spikes of iron’ – soon finish her off. Once again, a woman is fridged. Note that Johnson breaks away from The Golden Legend by turning the foreign princess into a trophy, a reward after the dragon fight – she might have a name, but unlike the princess in The Golden Legend, Sabra does not participate in quelling the dragon, or speak before or during the fight.
After Sabra dies, George becomes obsessed with a nun, Lucina. When she declines to yield her virginity to him, George musters his six companions and marches on the monastery, promising to kill everyone within if Lucina does not relent: ‘Except she would yield to St. George her unconquered love, they would bathe their weapons in her dearest blood.’ Johnson takes pains to remind us that George ‘intended not to prosecute such cruelty’ – but Lucina is so aggrieved by the threats that she takes her own life in protest. In her introduction to a scholarly edition of The Renowned History, published in 2003, Dr Jennifer Fellows points out, ‘Johnson seems to take a salacious delight in tales of rape and violence against women.’ The attempted rape of Sabra is graphic, reminding a reader horribly of the rape of Lavinia in Titus Andronicus: ‘I will ravish thee by force and violence, and triumph in the conquest of thy chastity; which being done, I will cut thy tongue out of thy mouth […] I will chop off both thy hands.’ It was erased from later retellings.
Johnson appears to have borrowed many elements of his story from earlier classical and medieval sources, including Sir Bevis of Hampton and possibly The Faerie Queene (1590) by Edmund Spenser, his contemporary. Both of these texts involve a knight, a battle with a dragon, a beautiful damsel, and a natural resource that provides succour. Yet The Renowned History was novel and popular enough to have endured in the English popular imagination for centuries. It inspired ballads, morality plays, chapbooks and abridged retellings by numerous authors. Churchill’s personal aircraft was christened LV633 Ascalon – a name that has since been used for swords in the Final Fantasy franchise and the American animation series Ben 10.
The young Queen Victoria watched a Christmas performance based on The Renowned History, which so captured her imagination that she painted some of her favourite scenes in watercolour. Dante Gabriel Rossetti depicted Saint George and Princess Sabra twice, using the name Johnson bestowed on the damsel. The Renowned History is even thought to be the story that helped Dr Samuel Johnson learn to read – certainly he owned a copy of it. Its influence can be seen as late as 2011, when artists Christian de Vietri and Marcus Canning created a sculpture of a lance for Cathedral Square in Perth and named it Ascalon. All of this can be traced back to the Johnsonian tradition of Saint George – but for more than four hundred years, it appears to have gone unchallenged.
In 2009, the editor of This England – a quarterly magazine aimed at people who are ‘unashamedly proud to be English’ – was troubled by the idea that many young people knew very little about their patron saint, or were embarrassed by him. ‘St George stands for everything that makes this country great – freedom of expression, helping those less fortunate, tolerance of other people’s beliefs, kindness and standing up for what you believe to be right,’ he said. He is certainly not the only person to hold this belief.
I have personally found little material evidence that Saint George merits any special association with kindness, tolerance or freedom of expression. Not now, not in The Renowned History or The Golden Legend, and not in our very earliest account of the battle, where George expects a mass conversion before he will help the people of Lasia. It is intolerance of other beliefs that has played a key role in his story. A ballad in Reliques of Ancient English Poetry (1765) begins by announcing that George has been fighting ‘against the Sarazens so rude’ – a constant of the legend is his persistent dislike of non-Christians. This is not a peculiar addition by one or two authors.
‘Come on,’ I hear you say. ‘You’re getting worked up over nothing. No one knows any of this stuff. Is this not just a fairy tale for kids about a man killing a dragon?’
I hope I have demonstrated that the answer is a resounding no.
You might want to argue that the legend of Saint George has transformed into a simpler one over the centuries, and that his problematic incarnations in history are now so little-known as to be almost meaningless. You might want to argue that nowadays, we honour the idea of the saint, and that nothing else is relevant – but I believe you would be wrong. The idea is not the whole story, and the whole story matters. Saint George, after all, is most famous for a fight with a mythical beast. It is the fiction of him, not what little fact we have, that has driven his popularity and established him as a cultural icon. It is the fiction, therefore, that must be challenged, and worked through, if there is to be any serious reconsideration of his legacy. Dragons – regrettably – exist only in the realm of imagination, and it is in the realm of imagination that the idea of Saint George has grown. We must ask ourselves if we have been imagining him in the right way, and how he might look if we imagine him differently.
He has never been a more significant or dangerous figure than he is now, as right-wing nationalism rises once more across Europe and America and Brexit emboldens those whose patriotism does not embrace the diverse reality of modern Britain. There should be no misunderstanding: anyone who invokes Saint George in the name of intolerance is building on a long-established tradition. Now is the time to expose and confront that tradition.
Neil Gaiman once said, ‘We have the right, and the obligation, to tell old stories in our own ways, because they are our stories.’ There are those in England who continue to believe the story of Saint George is integral to our collective national story. In writing The Priory of the Orange Tree, I was driven by that sense of obligation – a desire to answer the story that created the ripples I first encountered in a song as a little girl. A desire to re-assemble and expand on it in a way that made sense to me as a woman and a human being. I wanted to resurrect and shine a light on its lost women, whose names have all but disappeared. I wanted to make them a gift of the orange tree. I wanted to hit back at the George I met in the stories of old, and to wonder what the people of Lasia would have said about him, if only anyone had written his intervention from their perspective. And I wanted someone else to have a chance to slay the dragon.
The tales of the past have already been told. That does not mean they are set in stone. Storytellers now have a chance to decide what we love about old stories, and what we would prefer to change. We have a chance to say, at last, ‘This was wrong, and here is why.’ The transformative act of retelling allows us to shout back at the past. I mean to keep doing that.

Dr. Beatrice Groves teaches Renaissance English at Trinity College, Oxford
J.K. Rowling has said that Flourish and Blotts is the store she would most like to visit in Diagon Alley: “I think I would want to see those books more than anything else.” And it is, indeed, a store that is a celebration of bibliophilia: “They bought Harry’s school books in a shop called Flourish and Blotts where the shelves were stacked to the ceiling with books as large as paving stones bound in leather; books the size of postage stamps in covers of silk; books full of peculiar symbols and a few books with nothing in them at all. Even Dudley, who never read anything, would have been wild to get his hands on some of these” (SS 80).
Diagon Alley is not only full of books – the place where you go to buy spellbooks or meet authors such as Lockhart – but it is also, perhaps, modeled after Rowling’s own reading. Rowling loved Elizabeth Goudge’s Little White Horse growing up, extolling it as “a seamless mix of the fairy-tale and the real.” She has in fact gone as far as to name Little White Horse as her favorite childhood novel in at least four separate interviews. Given her love for Goudge’s work, it seems likely that Rowling would, at a later age, have read further in Goudge’s oeuvre. One of Goudge’s novels for adults – Towers in the Mist – shares in both Little White Horse’s charm and in its seamless weaving together of a fairy-tale romance with real – in this case historical – figures. It is a delightful imagining of the lives of the fictional Leigh family intertwined with true Elizabethan Oxfordians. And it does seem, to this reader at least, to have a number of Harry Potter links. There is, for example, a hard-working character with a touch of Hermione about him: “Sometimes he thought that Giles’s capacity for doing more work in one hour than most people did in three was not very good for him.” There is also a child with striking green eyes, whose inheritance of those green eyes from his parent turns out to be significant to the plot. There is also a shopping trip down Oxford’s High Street, which has more than a touch of Diagon Alley about it.
Many cities have claimed the inspiration for Diagon Alley as their own – in particular, Exeter’s Gandy Street and York’s beautiful Shambles (despite Rowling vehemently denying this claim). During a long Twitter thread debunking places that she claimed have not influenced her, Rowling went on to say that Diagon Alley was not “based on any real place.” But what about a fictional one? I’d like to stake a claim for the High Street of my own home city – Oxford – as the site for the inspiration for Diagon Alley but only in the fictionalized sixteenth-century version of it to be met with in Goudge’s Towers in the Mist.
Goudge describes a particularly evocative shopping trip when the Leigh children set off, like prospective Hogwarts students, down a street that is a veritable treasure trove of delightful shops. Goudge describes it as “an exciting place, full of strange smells,” and just like Harry stocking up on potion ingredients, the Leigh children likewise visit an apothecary: “‘The apothecary’s first,’ said Joyeuce.’I want some century and wormwood.’” Joyeuce uses century and wormwood to make a medicinal brew against the sweating sickness, and wormwood is, of course, perhaps the most famous potion ingredient in Harry Potter. Goudge underlines that one of the things about Oxford’s High Street in the sixteenth century which makes it such a pleasure to shop in is that each sells only highly specialized types of wares. This, of course, makes it distinct from most modern high streets but is something it shares with Diagon Alley:

"It contained… really beautiful shops like the aurifabray, the mercery, the spicer’s and the glover’s. There were no multiple shops, where you could buy all sorts of different things under one roof, for Parliament had decreed that ‘artificers and handicraft people hold them everyone to his own mystery,’ and the Oxford Town Council enforced this law very vigorously.”

The children stand full of longing in front the aurifabray (the goldsmith’s) and gaze at the gold items on display:

"Behind the small, iron-barred window one could glimpse wonderful things; cups and platters all made of gold, gold chains, billements, brooches to pin a gentlemen’s plumes into their caps, rings for the fingers and ears of fair ladies and little gold bells to be tied to the cradles of wealthy babies… The girls and Diccon gaped at these glories with round eyes of amazement.”

The very unusual word aurifabray is from aurifaber (Latin for “goldsmith”), and although no one other than Goudge uses it as an English word for a goldsmith, a number of sixteenth-century German Reformers used this Latinized version of their name rather than the more usual “Goldschmidt” (goldsmith). I doubt there is any direct connection with the Goldstein name that Rowling uses, but it is tantalizing that both Rowling and Goudge should be drawn to Germanic, goldsmithing surnames.
As we’ve discussed on a “Reading, Writing, Rowling” podcast episode, I think that the name Goldstein is crucial to the alchemical imagery of Fantastic Beasts. The Dictionary of American Family Names (ed. Patrick Hanks, OUP, 2003) gives the background of Goldstein:

1. Jewish (Ashkenazic): ornamental name composed of German Gold “gold” + Stein “stone.”
2. German: from a medieval personal name, nickname, or occupational name from Middle High German, Middle Low German golste(i)n “gold stone,” “precious stone” (probably chrysolite or topaz, which was used as a testing stone by alchemists).

Rowling has given the Goldstein sisters an alchemical surname for a reason. And quite a bit of Rowling’s interest in literary alchemy – as John Granger has argued in Harry Potter’s Bookshelf (2009) – may well have come from her childhood love of Goudge’s alchemical fairy tale, Little White Horse.
There is alchemy in Towers in the Mist likewise – sometimes quite literally. Walter Raleigh gets into trouble with the college authorities for the foul-smelling potions he is making in his rooms and is defended on the grounds that he is following in the footsteps “of the great alchemists of all time… searching for that Elixir that shall turn all hard metals, yea, even the hearts of reverend and learned men, to soft and merciful gold.” The true alchemy – in Towers in the Mist as in Harry Potter – is wrought by the transforming power of love:

He paused to look back at the towers and spires so delicately pencilled against the glorious dawn sky that curved above them in the semblance of a great circle. He felt a pang of pain to think that he must so soon leave it all, but yet he had at the same time a glorious feeling of permanence. Raleigh at the last had been quite right. Love was an unchanging thing, not an emotion but an element in which the world had its being. All the lovely things upon earth, beauty and truth and courage, were faint pictures of it.” (Towers in the Mist)

True alchemy is not about the love of gold but an understanding that what has true worth, the real “gold,” is love.
Harry, like the Leigh children staring at the decidedly unspiritual display at the aurifabray, is forced to resist the lure of literal gold in Diagon Alley. He both desires (and does not buy) a solid gold cauldron and a set of solid gold Gobstones. Hagrid stops him from buying the first, and in a tiny hint of his increasing heroism, Harry uses self-restraint to stop himself buying the latter two years later. Like the Leigh children gazing into the window of the aurifabray, however, one of the windows in Diagon Alley makes Harry passionately desire something he cannot have:

Price on request … Harry didn’t like to think how much gold the Firebolt would cost. He had never wanted anything as much in his whole life […] Harry didn’t ask for the price, but he returned, almost every day after that, just to look at the Firebolt.” (PoA 51–52)

Diccon longs for a ruby in the window of the aurifabray, and it seems an impossible dream. But just like Harry and the Firebolt, he will be magically gifted a ruby later in the novel.
Oxford’s Elizabethan High Street in Towers in the Mist, however, not only shares with Diagon Alley in its apothecaries, alchemical hints, and appealing window displays. It also has a pub which, like the Leaky Cauldron, is an entrance into a secret world.
This is the Mitre Inn – one of the oldest pubs in Oxford. It was converted into an inn in 1310 and still stands over the network of medieval vaulted cellars that used to run under the houses from which the inn was formed. When Faithful and the twins enter the Mitre Inn, they see a chink of light through a cellar door, and upon entering this hidden space, it seems that “the fairy tale had come true.” This underground room full of gold and color and blazing light is in fact a secret Catholic chapel (forced underground due to the Elizabethan settlement). And in this secret place, Faithful’s dreams come true. He longs to be a scholar at Oxford, and Edmund Campion (who is the priest of this chapel) gives him a magical gift of gold and reveals a friend’s identity, which enables Faithful to realize his dream.
This is the Mitre Inn – one of the oldest pubs in Oxford. It was converted into an inn in 1310 and still stands over the network of medieval vaulted cellars that used to run under the houses from which the inn was formed. When Faithful and the twins enter the Mitre Inn, they see a chink of light through a cellar door, and upon entering this hidden space, it seems that “the fairy tale had come true.” This underground room full of gold and color and blazing light is in fact a secret Catholic chapel (forced underground due to the Elizabethan settlement). And in this secret place, Faithful’s dreams come true. He longs to be a scholar at Oxford, and Edmund Campion (who is the priest of this chapel) gives him a magical gift of gold and reveals a friend’s identity, which enables Faithful to realize his dream.
The secret chapel under the Mitre Inn, like the Leaky Cauldron, is a place that the uninitiated cannot even see. But it’s the place where Faithful, like Harry, finds the entrance into a new, wondrous reality:

"He was a scholar of Christ Church. He had got what he wanted and he was so utterly and completely happy that he felt as though he had been born again… Nothing in life, he thought, is so lovely as fresh beginnings, and nothing breeds more courage.”

One connection between Faithful’s dream of scholarship and Harry’s entrance into a magical world is that both are enabled through books.
But there is perhaps a pleasing twist to all this celebration of bookishness on Harry Potter Book Night. For the college which Faithful enters is, literally, the place that Harry enters – although only in the Harry Potter films. For Christ Church, Oxford, the magical home of Faithful’s dream is – of course – the place that became Hogwarts on film.

The Fighting Prince of Donegal
The Fighting Prince of Donegal is a 1966 Disney live action adventure movie starring Peter McEnery, Susan Hampshire, Tony Adams and Andrew Keir. Directed by Michael O'Herlihy (younger brother of actor Dan O'Herlihy), the story by Robert Westeby is based both on true historic events as well as the novel "Red Hugh; Prince of Donegal" by Robert T. Reilly, following the rise of Red Hugh O'Donnell and the historic "Nine Years War" (or "Tyrone's Rebellion") of 1593-1603 in which a confederation of Irish clans joined in rebellion against English rule in Ireland.
The movie starts off when the young Red Hugh O'Donnell's father dies of age, leaving him now as the head of the O'Donnell clan as well as the Prince of their kingdom of Donegal. With the spark of rebellion in the air, Red Hugh gathers with the other northern clan chiefs to discuss their best course of action. Hugh O'Neil and The McSweeny both want to attack the English instantly, but Red Hugh convinces them to wait and to gather more allies for a sure victory. He also is to be wed to the McSweeny's beautiful daughter Kathleen to help solidify their alliance.
But the English strike the first blow by kidnapping the Red Hugh O'Donnell in the night, and holding him in jail at Dublin Castle as a hostage of good faith, ensuring that the northern clans will not rise in rebellion. With the help of Hugh O'Neil and servants in the castle loyal to the Irish cause, the two Hugh's escape the castle and make their way across the Irish countryside. With English soldiers now guarding his home at Donegal Castle and holding his mother and young bride hostage, Red Hugh makes his way to The McSweeny's castle to plan the course of action.
This then leads us to the best live action Disney battle since "Rob Roy; The Highland Rogue" in 1953. The rebel Irish army storm the gates of Donegal castle in full force, with men being killed by the dozens in the process, including the fearless banner carriers whom never let their flag fall to the ground for too long before the next carrier picks it up and continues on with the march (hilariously intense!). All the while their fearless leader scales the castle walls alone with axe in hand to save the fair maidens. After a good old fashioned one on one duel of the blades between Red Hugh and the Queen's Lord Lieutenant (with Hugh winning and keeping the Lord Lieutenant as a hostage to bargain with), and the rebellion now in full swing, the movie comes to a close, leaving the audience on a hopeful cinematic note (although in actuality the rebellion was eventually crushed after 9 years, sending the rebel leaders into flight to France, and changing the political landscape of the old clan system of Ireland forevermore).
So with all said and done, The Fighting Prince of Donegal is a truly amazing piece of retro cinema. The plotline being a sure winner for any fans of Irish and/or Elizabethan era history. The main actors all pull off their roles perfectly, this is definitely due to the reason that most of the cast all came with famed theater backgrounds. The "Pinewood Studio" castle sets (both interiors and exteriors) along with the costuming department are both perfectly authentic, the color schemes of both being marvelously eye grabbing. With authentic contemporary of the time songs thrown in, the frequent war pipes and drums about, and a grand old epic scale score, the music by famed Disney composer George Edward Bruns catches it's mark perfectly. All of this is brilliantly helmed together by first time film director Michael O'Herlihy (who's previous 5 years of directing various episodes of famed tv shows like "Rawhide" seemed to prepare him perfectly for this role), bringing us Walt Disney's "The Fighting Prince of Donegal" 1966.
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And that's all he wrote folks.
Thanks for reading.
Ryan D. Hurley

AO3 link: Taylor Swift Songs: Literary References & Parallels
Reddit links: Part 1: Sappho Part 2a: Shakespeare part 1 Part 2b: Shakespeare part 2 Part 3a: Shakespeare part 3
Content note for this chapter that it discusses sexism and rape/non-consensual contact, though more briefly than the Shakespeare chapter.
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John Lyly is a less-known name from English literary history than figures such as Shakespeare, but he was certainly influential, on English language writing in general as well as perhaps in Taylor's work specifically. Born in 1553 or 1554 (such ambiguity is not uncommon) and living until 1606, he published plays, novels (including perhaps the first English language novel) between 1578 and 1597 before spending some time as a Member of Parliament. In his time, he was most famous for his novels Euphues: The Anatomy of Wit and sequel Euphues and his England (comedic and dramatic romance stories), but his plays are now much more remembered and discussed. His work includes powerful and complex female characters, commentary and satire of misogyny and societal norms, and queerness of both individuals and of relationship dynamics which surely invite a modern rediscovery and renaissance.
He is generally considered to have created the phrase "All's fair in love and war". This is directly referenced by Taylor in her prologue to her (upcoming at the time of writing this chapter) album The Tortured Poets Department which states "all's fair in love and poetry".
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From his Euphues works came the style of writing now known as euphuism, or a deliberately ornate style with repeated, sometimes excessive, literary devices and allusions; it uses repeated phrases and structures, alliteration and assonance, and 'balanced' sentences in terms of the length of clauses and in the ratios of nouns, verbs and adjectives to each other. Even in its own time, it was parodied by some and copied by others, and looking online it's easy to find mainstream dictionaries aligning it with words like 'pretentious'. Euphuism was not created by Lyly, but he certainly popularised it enough that it takes its name from his work.
An often-used example of euphuism is taken from Euphues itself:

It is virtue, yea virtue, gentlemen, that maketh gentlemen; that maketh the poor rich, the base-born noble, the subject a sovereign, the deformed beautiful, the sick whole, the weak strong, the most miserable most happy. There are two principal and peculiar gifts in the nature of man, knowledge and reason; the one commandeth, and the other obeyeth.

In this section can be seen:

• Alliteration (words beginning with the same letter or sound) - "subject a sovereign", "principal and peculiar", "most miserable", "other obeyeth"
• Assonance (words using the same vowel sounds) - "one commandeth [...] other obeyeth"
• Consonance (words using the same consonant sounds" - "the sick whole, the weak strong"
• Parallelism (similar structure in paired words or phrases) - "knowledge and reason; the one commandeth, and the other obeyeth"
  • Antithesis is a form of parallelism in which the paired phrases are sharply contrasted or opposite each other, not represented in the above but important in euphuistic writing.
• Repetition - virtue, gentlemen, most
• Phrases of equal length - "the poor rich, the base-born noble, the subject a sovereign, the deformed beautiful, the sick whole, the weak strong" all contain three words other than the added 'a' in "the subject a sovereign"
• Use of similes and metaphors - concepts such as "the subject a sovereign" and "the deformed beautiful" are not here being used directly but as imagery of how virtue can transform how someone is perceived by others

Euphuism also often involves

• Rhetorical questions - asking questions which are not meant to be answered
• References intended for people with classical or highly educated backgrounds, which may be deliberately opaque or strange to those who do not know what is being referenced

While Lyly used these skills mostly in prose and plays, it is easy to see how they would correlate well to poetry and to songwriting! Repeated sounds and phrases of similar lengths are staples of songwriting in order to fit to the melody, but the added factor of the elaborate imagery and allusions are likely what separate some songs when it comes to if they are considered euphuistic in nature. Certain of Taylor's songs, particularly those of her folklore and evermore albums, can clearly be considered part of this style of writing.
As an example, let's look at the lakes, the final song from folklore released as part of the deluxe edition. This analysis will ignore normal end-of-line rhyming which occurs in most songs.
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the lakes	Analysis
Is it romantic how all my elegies eulogize me?	Assonance - "my" and "eulogize" both have the long I sound, while "elegies" and "me" have a long E sound
	Consonance - -ies and -ize both use sibilant sounds
	Rhetorical question
	References - double meaning of "romantic" referencing the romantic poets of the early 19th century
	Ornate language: "elegy" and "eulogy"
I'm not cut out for all these cynical clones	Alliteration & Consonance - "cut", "cynical clones"
	Consonance - "cut out" uses the stop of T
	Metaphor - "clones"
	Use of ending long O sound to draw mournful, howl/sob-like sound
These hunters with cell phones	Consonance - sibilance in "hunters", "cell phones"
	Metaphor - "hunters"
	Use of ending long O sound to draw mournful, howl/sob-like sound

(Analysis continues in the AO3 chapter.)
There is, after all, a reason why folklore and evermore were so critically acclaimed and drew so many literary comparisons - as can be seen, just about every line contains at least one literary device, if not more, creating a very dense and intense lyric experience. Thus particularly for these albums, Taylor's writing style could certainly be described as euphuistic in nature; it could also be suggested that the Midnights 3AM tracks also draw from this literary style, particularly the extended metaphors of The Great War and Would've, Could've, Should've (which even in its title uses the phrase lengths of euphuism).
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Eight of Lyly's plays survive:

• Campaspe performed 1583/84 (printed 1584 three times, & 1591)
• Sapho and Phao performed 1584 (printed 1584 twice, & 1591)
• Gallathea performed 1587/88 (printed 1592)
• Endymion, the Man in the Moon performed 1588 (printed 1591)
• Midas performed 1589/90 (printed 1592)
• Mother Bombie performed c.1590 (printed 1594, & 1598)
• Love's Metamorphosis performed c.1589/90, revived 1600/01 (printed 1601)
• The Woman in the Moon probably performed 1590-95 (printed 1597)

Campaspe is based upon a reportedly historical figure (actual sources are unclear whether she existed or not). Coming from Thessaly, she met Alexander the Great, who fell in love with her and asked the great painter Apelles to make a portrait of her. However, Campaspe and Apelles fell in love, and Alexander kept the painting but stepped aside so that the lovers could be together. She is supposedly the model for Apelle's famous, lost but often recreated, Venus Anadyomene. In Lyly's retelling, Campaspe is a slave whom Alexander frees. Lyly's play was notable for being a drama told for its own value: it was not intended to hold higher allegory or moral/ethical lessons or reasoning. Additionally, while it is still written in the euphistic style and has poetic or rhyming passages, the play also used prose, which was again new to the era.
From a queer point of view, it is of course worth noting that Alexander the Great is nowadays widely known to have been queer (likely bisexual in modern terminology) and had relationships with men - most notably Hephaestion, who appears in the play Campaspe and disapproves of Alexander's relationship with Campaspe herself. However, this is still being argued against by people in the modern day, and seems to have only really entered discussion and acknowledgement within living memory - it was, most likely, not known to Lyly at the time.
Compare to: Champagne Problems ("she'll patch up your tapestry that I've shred")
Sapho and Phao is a play loosely based upon the supposed romance of Sappho of Lesbos and Phaon the ferryman (see the chapter on Sappho for comments on how ahistorical this likely was!), using elements of Ancient Greek Religion while using Ancient Roman religious names. In Lyly's play, Venus thanks the old ferryman Phao for his services by granting him youth and beauty; he is now so attractive that all the women of Lesbos, including (unmarried and uninterested in love) Queen Sapho, fall in love with with him. Sapho feigns illness to have an excuse to call upon him for healing, but they cannot be together due to their differences in status. Venus asks her son Cupid to make Phao fall in love with her instead, but Cupid rebels: he cures Sapho of her love for Phao but makes Phao hate Venus instead. Phao leaves the country while Cupid remains with Sapho.
It has been suggested that elevating Sappho to "Queen Sapho" was to allow Lyly to draw comparisons with Queen Elizabeth I of England (often called The Virgin Queen), and comment on François, Duke of Anjou, who had recently given up on his attempts to court Elizabeth and had left the country.
As noted in the chapter on Sappho, her narrative was heterosexualised (or het-washed) throughout much of history. It was not until in 1633 that John Donne wrote "Sappho to Philaenis" which had Sappho as writing to or about another woman once again. (Sidenote, this is discussed in an episode of the Lesbian Historic Motif Podcast for which I read the transcript and which sounds utterly fascinating.) Nonetheless, it has been suggested that there are queer themes to be found in the play. Venus's desire for Phao leads to her fixated interest in Sapho, an example of the triangulation of desire also discussed, appropriately, in the Sappho chapter. Moreover, the general concept that Sapho was not interested in a relationship until Phao, artificially and magically made beautiful, entered, could easily be read with an aspec or lesbian interpretation that Sapho's interest in him was essentially forced and not natural to her.
Compare to: Midnight Rain ("he wanted a bride, I was making my own name")
Gallathea (sometimes spelled Galatea) is a romantic comedy set in ancient Greece and using Ancient Greek religious figures with Roman names. Because Neptune demands a virgin sacrifice every five years, two men both disguise their beautiful daughters Galatea and Phillida as men and send them to hide in the woods. The two girls meet and fall in love despite their disguises. Meanwhile, Cupid causes trouble by disguising himself as one of Diana's nymph and causing several of the nymphs to fall in love with Galatea and Phillida, to Diana's fury. Diana and Venus argue, while Neptune is angry that girls are being hidden from him and rejects the offered replacement girl as not attractive enough; Diana returns Cupid to his mother and Venus persuades Neptune to stop asking for sacrifices. Galatea and Phillida are both revealed to be girls but state that they are still in love; Venus approves and offers to make one of them a man so that they might remain together. The epilogue says that love is both infallible and all-conquering.
In contrast to the implicit queerness of Sapho and Phao, it is easy to see why Gallathea is acknowledged as an early queer play in the English language! Galatea and Phillida fall in love as women, and Venus states her approval of it even with her offer to transform one of them to a man. This transformation does not take place onstage, but whether it does or not the end result is queer - either with a trans character, or two sapphic ones. The desire of the nymphs for the women, although sparked by Cupid, plays into the gender transgressions of crossdressing that would continue to be explored in later plays, including very famously the works of Shakespeare.
The choice of the name Galatea is also interesting from the point of view of Ancient Greek Religion. There are three Galateas in the lore - one a nereid and not highly relevant, but the second the statue created by Pygmalion who was brought to life to Aphrodite, while the third was the mother of Leucippus who was raised as a boy and later transformed into a man by the goddess Leto (mother of Artemis and Apollo). So this name has two potential references - either to the construction of the self as related to romantic relationships, or for its relationship to queer gender narratives.
It has been suggested that the interesting complexity of Lyly's exploration of gender on stage was a response to, and perhaps made possible by, Elizabeth I of England's position as ruling monarch, unmarried and without children. Elizabeth I ruled as Elizabeth Rex (literally meaning King Elizabeth in Latin, to indicate herself as queen regnant rather than queen consort). The only previous potential ruling queens in English history had been Matilda, whose declaration as heir led to The Anarchy which was 25 years of civil war and disorder, or Elizabeth's older sister Mary who is still known as "Bloody Mary" for the number of Protestants who were killed during her reign. Elizabeth I of England proved that English ruling queens were even possible - although she walked a fine line to be able to do so. From the song The Man, through July 2018 when Taylor Nation posted a picture of a concert crowd with the caption "Taylor is the 📷 of our ♥'s!", through Phoebe Bridgers calling Taylor "king of her craft" in a BillBoard interview to December 2022 when both Phoebe Bridgers and Gracie Abrams called Taylor "King", Taylor has also pushed at the boundaries of what is considered acceptable for a woman in the modern media and music landscape but also seems aware - and even fearfully aware - of the potential limitations around her, of "fucking politics and gender roles" (Question...?).
Several versions of Gallathea (generally amateur) can be easily found on YouTube - they make for interesting watching!
Compare to: ...okay, actually I don't have a good comparison for this one. But you could probably have some fun with Mine ("I fell in love with a careless man's careful daughter"), Ours ("they'll judge it like they know about me and you"), or Snow on the Beach ("weird, but fucking beautiful").
Endimion, the Man in the Moon (sometimes spelled Endymion) uses reference to Ancient Greek and Roman Religion, and to English folklore, but diverges the plot significantly to make contemporary allegories. It is considered the most impressive of his works. Endymion falls in love with Cynthia, the queen, and begins to neglect his lover Tellus who is among Cynthia's ladies-in-waiting. Angry, Tellus has a sorceress bewitch Endimion into sleep; Cynthia realises and has Tellus imprisoned while sending various people to look for a cure for Endymion. Endymion's friend Eumenides returns to say that a kiss from Cynthia will wake Endimion; this works, but he is aged and his memory damaged. When Endymion explains that his love for Cynthia is chaste and sacred (a reference to courtly love), she accepts it, and her blessing restores his mind. Various figures are forgiven for their roles and pair off. It has been discussed whether this represents a happy ending for the couples, or whether Lyly is commenting on the impossibility of fair male/female relationships in heteropatriarchal societies, as Lyly was unusual among writers in presenting singlehood (especially single women) positively. Lyly's repeat presentation of competent and happy ruling queens without male guidance or control was unusual, although it is worth noting that as Cynthia arranges the pairing-off of other characters she reinforces the heteropatriarchal structure as it applied to everyone except her - rather than breaking the system for all, she has only been able (or is only willing) to do so for herself.
Cynthia is, ultimately, uninterested in romance and stresses that the kiss she gives Endimion is an aberration - in a modern setting, it would be quite easy to read this as being aroace (aromantic-asexual) in expression. Endimion, meanwhile, expresses being quite happy with this relationship, which could also in a modern setting be considered in the light of asexuality or aromantic spectrum orientations (potentially lithromantic) or being framed as a queerplatonic or platonic-focused relationship.
Compare to: Untouchable ("it's like a million little stars, spelling our your name"), and for the dramatic female revenge on men see Better Than Revenge.
Midas is more closely based on the Ancient Greek story of the same name. King Midas first asks Bacchus to have everything that he touches turn to gold, then after it proves a curse removes it by washing himself in the river Pactolus. He then favours Pan in a musical competition, causing Apollo to give him a donkey's ears; his sensible daughter prays to know how to remove it before letting her father know that he needs to repent for his foolishness at Delphi. While this play keeps fairly close to the Ancient Greek story (with the exception of adding Midas's sensible daughter), it is also generally considered to be a reference to Felipe II of Spain who inherited Spain while it was deeply in debt and managed to make it seem far more rich through his exploitation of the indigenous peoples of the Americas and their gold. Having no major romantic plots, this play does not particularly attract the attention of queer theory scholars, although feminist scholars note the addition of Midas's daughter as the figure who solves the second issue.
Mother Bombie (drawing from ballad/folklore figure Mother Bumbey or Mother Bumbie) is unusual among Lyly's works for its complexity, for its lack of classical (especially ancient religious) references, and the fact that it is believed to be largely original rather than drawing from any existing story (including Italian novels which inspired many English language plays during these centuries). It has a complex plot which includes a pair of lovers who disguise themselves in order to marry despite the wishes of their fathers, and a pair of young people who are being matchmade by their fathers for financial reasons with the fathers attempting to manipulate each other. At the end of the play, it is revealed that the young pair whose marriage is being arranged are actually siblings, their mother Vicinia having swapped them at birth with children of rich households, and the two children Vicinia has raised are unrelated and therefore able to be together in the love that had been developing between them but hidden because they feared it was incestuous. The title character, Mother Bombie, is largely an outsider to the events, but is considered the cunning woman of the village (she denies being a witch) and many of the characters seek her advice or assistance.
Compare the pair of lovers fighting to be together to: Love Story, Ours, Don't Blame Me
Compare the role of Mother Bombie, as narrator and cunning woman, to: ...Ready For It? ("they're burning all the witches, even if you aren't one"), Mastermind ("all the wisest women had to do it this way"), Dear Reader, and to the structure of folklore which blurred the line between fictional and real stories with Taylor taking the narrative role across them.
Love's Metamorphosis (drawing loosely from Ovid's Metamorphosis but with large original subplots) is a drama with romantic subplots. Three nymphs spurn the love of three humans, and Cupid punishes them by turning them into inanimate objects as requested by the humans. Meanwhile, a peasant angers the goddess Ceres, is punished, and ends up selling his daughter; the daughter escapes, disguises herself as a man, and rescues her lover from a siren. Cupid and Ceres agree to release the nymphs and remove the curse from the peasant man, the nymphs are at first uncertain but confirm that the humans love them as they are and do not intend to change their personalities, and all four couples are married.
In Act II, Scene 1, Ceres and Cupid discuss the nature of love in an interesting manner. Cupid says that he considers the most desirable traits of women to be "In those that are not in love, reverent thoughts of love; in those that be, faithful vows." and says that the "subtance of love" is "Constancy and secrecy". (Compare Paris and "romance is not dead, if you keep it just yours"; Dear Reader and "the greatest of luxuries are your secrets".)
The presentation of the relationships between the nymphs and humans is complicated, and understandably uncomfortable from a modern perspective. The nymphs initially make it clear that they do not want relationships - Niobe enjoys flirtation and attention but does not want committed monogamy; Nisa does not desire any relationship and considers herself superior to those who do; Celia is more concerned with her own beauty than with any sort of relationship. In Act V, Scene 4, when they are changed back, they initially say that they would rather remain inanimate objects than be forced into relationships, and Ceres has to beg them to accept the men. Niobe warns Silvestris that she will likely be unfaithful to him, to which he replies only that he does not wish to be told about it; Nisa warns Ramis that he might love her, but she will not love him or express affection, and he accepts it; Celia warns Montanus that, like a rose with its thorns, at times she will be pleasant to him and at times hurtful, and he accepts it. All three nymphs also warn the men that Cupid will be just as capable of punishing them if they do not keep their word in the future. While these relationships cannot be considered consensual, they are also an unusual subversion of the usual romance arc of "character flaws" being "fixed" before the individuals enter a romantic relationship - the men must accept the nymphs as they are under pain of godly punishment, even if as they are is unfaithful, unloving, or sometimes cruel. Set alongside the relationship between Protea (the cross-dressing daughter of the cursed peasant) and Petulius, who discuss their relationship and whether it will stand the test of time and acknowledge and accept each other's perceived flaws (Petulius was initially taken in by the siren; Protea is not a virgin), the pairing-off of the nymphs with their respective 'suitors' provides its own sort of antithesis within the story.
Plays of this era - and future ones - very often ended with multiple weddings, and the pairing-off of great numbers of characters. In modern terms, people may recognise the "Pair the Spares" trope at play! Lyly, at least, seems to underscore the absurdity of the nymph-human relationships, and gives the nymphs distinct personalities and desires.
From a queer theory reading, Protea not only cross-dresses but takes the more active role in escaping the merchant to whom she is sold and rescuing Petulius, though her ability to avoid the siren's call does seem to underline that she is not attracted to women. She behaves in a gender-non-conforming way for the era, and speaks to Petulius about not being a virgin which would have been significant for the time. Ceres is underlined as not being in or desiring a relationship (though not that Proserpina is referenced in dialogue, implying that Ceres is a mother), another positive portrayal of a single female leader, while Nisa could be read as aspec and comfortable only with another person desiring her without expecting it to be requited, and Niobe essentially states that it will be an open relationship.
These strong and varied female characters, the multiple-marriage ending, and the classical religious references do all align with Lyly's work, although due to the lack of farce/comedy it has been suggested that this is a revised or later version, not Lyly's original script. Its exploration of female consent and non-consent, from the nymphs who enter dubiously consensual marriages to the dryad whose tree is cut down and who mourns while dying that even in chastity she was not able to escape male violence, is also consistent with other Lyly works which make bold statements about how both societal expectations and acts of male violence are imposed upon women's bodies. It is honestly pleasantly surprising to see such acknowledgement from an early male writer, as anyone who has attempted gender-related discourse even in the modern day will have witnessed how these expectations and violence remain factors in the twenty-first century despite denial of their existence (especially, though not always, by men).
Compare discussions of female agency to: mad woman ("No-one likes a mad woman, you made her like that"), The Man ("When everyone believes ya, what's that like?")
Compare the lines drawn by the nymphs to: ME! (Okay, I'm joking a little on this one. But maybe not entirely.)
The Woman in the Moon is generally believed to be the last of Lyly's plays, and was written in blank verse. (Read at the Internet Archive, page 230) Four shepherds complain that they do not have a woman, and ask the goddess Nature to give them one as a companion; she obliges and creates Pandora, giving her the best parts of all seven celestial bodies (as then listed - the Sun, Moon, Mercury, Venus, Mars, Jupiter and Saturn). However, the seven celestial forces war over her, influencing her moods and behaviour, scaring and threatening the four shepherds even as they fight to try to claim a monogamous relationship with her. Eventually, unable to cope, the shepherds beg Nature to take Pandora away again, and she chooses to be with Luna since they are both variable in their behaviours.
The character of Pandora is a remarkable one, carrying the action and presenting various moods and desires across the performance. Although it has been accused of being misogynistic, some scholars have put forward that it is in fact about misogyny and the absurd expectations placed on woman - the four shepherds go to Nature to essentially ask for a sex doll, and are unable to cope with receiving a person with moods, desires, depression and anger, sexual autonomy and frustration at being followed around by the four men. Pandora at one point declares "I cannot walk but they importune me". Pandora is created by the female character of Nature, and at the end joins the female character of Luna - but before she does so, she talks about how she desires parts of each of the astrological figures, and how she does not simply have one aspect of herself but contains many facets. It is very easy to see how a skilled actor of any gender could make the play into a critique of patriarchal demands upon woman, as the shepherds have gendered expectations of her from before she has even been created, further implying their artificiality.
The play all but demands comparison to mad woman, with its expression of anger from within the cage of femininity, but also to seven ("I used to scream ferociously any time I wanted") and perhaps to the manner in which Taylor has portrayed and explored duality and plurality in her music videos and lyrics. Though most marked from the reputation era onwards - ...Ready For It? contrasting the free, cybernetic Taylor with the caged ever-changing one; Look What You Made Me Do featuring at least fifteen different Taylors onscreen at once; Anti-Hero becoming Taylor's dialogue with herself - it is clear that Taylor has actively engaged in a cycle of reinvention in her 'eras' since at least Red (2012-2014). In her Eras tour, her dancers onstage perform as previous versions of herself in glass cases, with Taylor surrounding herself with her own previous forms. Having also discussed how media and social pressures used to influence her behaviour - in 2016, she discussed with Vogue how she stopped publicly dating for some time due to the media narratives about her as a "man-eater" or "serial dater" - certain of Taylor's lyrics also discuss what it is to be influenced and even controlled by powers and narratives around her.
Compare to: mirrorball ("I'll show you every version of yourself tonight"), peace ("Would it be enough, if I could never give you peace?"), ME!, The Man (which Taylor described as "If I had made all the same choices, all the same mistakes, all the same accomplishments, how would it read?"), The Lucky One ("they still tell the legend of how you disappeared, how you took the money and your dignity and got the hell out"), Don't Blame Me ("I play 'em like a violin, and I make it look oh so easy") or Castles Crumbling ("People look at me like I'm a monster").
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Sources
- Wikipedia pages on John Lyly, Euphres, and his various plays - The Complete Works of John Lyly at the Internet Archive - The Lesbian Historic Motif Podcast -- Especially episode John Lyly: Secret Ally? - Euphuism (Prose Style) from Thought Co - Euphuism from Poem Analysis - Sappho to Philaenis by John Donne - The Queen’s Two Bodies and the Elizabethan Male: Subject in John Lyly’s Gallathea (1592) By Amritesh Singh - Endymion: The Man In The Moon (1591) by jyotimishr - The Interplay of Genders in Lyly's Galatea by Elizabeth Perry - Annotated Popular Edition of Love's Metamorphosis from ElizabethanDrama.org - Go Dare; or, How Scholarship Lost the Plot by Andy Kesson - NOTE this piece discusses the themes of rape and nonconsent in Lyly's works - Generic Excitement by Andy Kesson, discussing queerness in Lyly's plays

Scientocracy is the exclusivist technological totalitarian system of governance that purports to base itself on science but which is actually based on scientism. The core scientocratic idea is that science can and will achieve a total knowledge and mastery of the world and that it should govern all through a scientific elite. This ideology has spurred the development of a network of control of mass intelligence by the concentration of power and intelligence, as was always its intended aim. Scientocracy is borne in the late 16th and early 17th centuries in the expansion into the “New World”. Below we consider two of the genii who had initially conceived this project.
The enigmatic Dr John Dee was a very learned mathematician, scientist, astronomer, astrologer, alchemist, philosopher, teacher, secret agent, naval expert, catographer, and much besides, educated at St. John’s Cambridge, later becoming a Fellow of Trinity College, Cambridge. Dee’s thinking was heavily influenced by the Hermetic, Platonic, Pythagorean and Kabbalistic doctrines that were pervasive throughout the whole of the Renaissance period. Dee’s immense knowledge of navigation was integral to England’s “Golden Age” of exploration and discovery. Dee risked his own body, immortal soul, and reputation in his earnest pursuit of truth. The extraordinary lengths he went to and the voluminous amounts of information he left behind are inexplicable to the minds of today.
Queen Elizabeth I held Dee in very high regard. Under her patronage, Dee, the “Queen’s conjurer,” was given licence to work in complete freedom. Elizabeth declared that anything he did was divine magic, approved by the Royal Seal. She would have him employ his arcane knowledge to cast horoscopes and divine favourable dates for certain activities, to advise her militarily towards advantageous outcomes. In their correspondences, she called him “my noble intelligencer, most faithful Dee,” and “my ubiquitous eyes,” suggesting that he was a spy both in England and abroad—Dee was in fact the first to sign off his clandestine royal correspondences as “007.” Dee’s mystical idea of a “British Empire” whose dominion over the sea routes would serve as its basis of control as articulated in his 1577 ‘England, General & Rare Memorials pertayning to the Perfect Arte of Navigation’ provided an initial vision for an imperialism based on science and sorcery.
Lord Verulam, better known as Sir Francis Bacon, was a philosopher, scientist, statesman, jurist, orator, and essayist, among other things. Francis was the son of Sir Nicholas Bacon and Lady Ann Bacon. The first forty years of his life during the reign of Elizabeth I remain shrouded in mystery. What we do know is that Bacon had a very careful upbringing. He was educated by the best teachers of the time—including Sir Roger Ascham who was famous for his promotion of the vernacular, and his theories of education. Ascham served in the administrations of Edward VI, Mary I, and had previously tutored Elizabeth I in both Greek and Latin. Today Francis Bacon is acknowledged as the “Father of Empiricism and Experimental Philosophy”. He was a pivotal figure in initiating the Scientific Revolution, and a key player in delivering modernity to us.
The Platonic utopian myth of an ideal society in ‘Republic’ was reenvisioned as a universal reformation of the oppressive and decadent traditions of the “old world” into a “New World” in Bacon’s 1626 novel ‘The New Atlantis’ wherein the link is made between imperial power, colonisation, plantation, and a community of scientific elites. Bacon’s novel was not simply a story of men aspiring to better the world, it had to do with the establishment of a great educational system promulgated by a secret society of expert initiates. It was upon Bacon’s conception of the New Atlantian “Salomon’s House” that the Royal Society of England was founded in London in 1662 with the explicit aim of implementing not only Bacon's general impetus towards understanding and governing the world scientifically but also a number of Bacon's specific projects. In Bacon’s novel the objective of the members of Salomon’s House, or the “College of the Six Days Work”, is given by the “father of Salomon’s House”: “The end of our foundation is the knowledge of causes, and secret motions of things; and the enlarging of the bounds of human Empire, to the effecting of all things possible.” The title page of the original publication of ‘The New Atlantis’ in the second edition of Bacon's ‘Sylva sylvarvm’ includes a Latin motto which reads “tempore patet occvlta veritas”: “In time all that is hidden shall be made known.”
Various scholars of European esoteric history have established that both Dee and Bacon, working closely together, were seminal in the development of what is now called the “Rosicrucian Enlightenment” which occurred during the 17th century in England, bringing the European Renaissance to a climax by creating the Renaissance in England and laying the foundations for modern science and society. For instance, in the 1615 ‘The Confessio Fraternitatis’ and in ‘The Chymical Wedding’ of 1616, two key Rosicrucian texts, the symbolism is the same as in Dee’s 1564 ‘Monas Hieroglyphica’. Both Dee and Bacon were erudite aristocratic individuals deeply interested in magic, sorcery and the occult. Both had a fascination with ciphers and cryptography; that is, with linguistic coding, which has an association with magic and power, and is used for crypsis. Both were involved in setting up the corporate intelligence system, what we now call the intelligence agencies and the military industrial complex; which has a key interest in cybernetics. Dee’s vision of a transatlantic Anglospheric British Empire and the American “New World” as anticipated in Bacon’s New Atlanticist system became the basis of control over the sea routes which led in the late 19th and early 20th centuries to the establishment of the global telecommunication and financial systems.
The word “intelligence” is crucial in relation to scientocracy; as is the concept of “machine” in relation to engineering and military weapons: the mechanics of empire. Cybernetics is about easing the governance of intelligence by the use of machines: the techniques of statecraft. Most of the technologies we use come directly out of the military industrial context—such as mobile phones, the internet, satellite navigation, AI, etc. The “artificial” in AI is really a reference to the machine as applied to intelligence. In the Elizabethan period, and thereafter, intelligence gained its modern meaning. It referred then, as it does now, to the military context, and also to non-human entities. This includes the search for extraterrestrial intelligences and communication with spiritual beings; whether angelic or demonic. The gathering of a wide range of intelligences further informs the pursuit of knowledge, and, as Bacon’s ringing dictum pronounces, “Knowledge is power.” The scientific enterprise, as conceived by Bacon is intimately linked to the desire for power over nature, to have her “bound into service, hounded in her wanderings and put on the rack and tortured for her secrets,” as he makes explicit in his 1620 ‘Novum Organum’; “New instrument, method, or true directions concerning the interpretation of nature.”

BELLDANDY’S RING, A Look At The Most Inconsistent Yet Important Plot Element In The Tale Of OH/AH! MY GODDESS! July 16, 2009
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The following topic does not represent the beliefs and opinions of the Goddess Project Administration and is presented here for information and discussion purposes only. All subject material is the work of Timotheus and represents his research and opinions. Please direct all questions, comments, criticisms, profanity, and death threats to him and not our beloved administrator who is getting stressed out.
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The Ojiisan Clause: I should also add that it is entirely probable that Mr. Fujishima has never thought things through to this degree and is just “winging it” as he goes. This is an interpretation of what he’s shown and represents an attempt to develop a rational system of interpretation from his writings. Mr. Fujishima has more than likely developed his own ideas on the subject based on his own beliefs, readings, and experience, but feels no obligation to be consistent in their use. If he wants to change how things work in his world, he can (and has), and all I, or anyone, can do is scramble to alter our own ideas to catch up when he does.
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Spoiler Warning – THIS IS A DISCUSSION TOPIC AND AS SUCH WILL BE USING EXAMPLES AND REFERENCES TO STORIES THROUGHOUT THE OH/AH MY GODDESS SERIES, BOTH MANGA AND ANIME. ALTHOUGH I WILL TRY TO KEEP THINGS AS VAGUE AS POSSIBLE AS FAR AS EXACT PLOT IS CONCERNED, SOME OF THESE WILL BE STORY SPOILERS. SO BE AWARE!
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1.0 - ONE RING TO BRING THEM ALL AND WITH THE GODDESS BIND THEM
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1.1 – Nowhere in the manga story of Belldandy and Keiichi is there a more symbolically significant yet enigmatic plot element than the ring Keiichi gives to Belldandy on the anniversary of their being together for one year (Chapter 16, What Belldandy Wants Most, December 1989 issue). From that point to the most current releases of the manga this ring has been faithfully depicted as being on Belldandy’s left hand ring finger next to her goddess ring no matter what the circumstances. While not given special prominence in the manga stories in general other than by its presence, the ring’s importance to Bell WAS further emphasized in first one later chapter (Chapter 77, Forever Grrls/Let's Go As Ladies, January 1995 issue) and then another more recently (Chapter 220, The Goddess Beyond the Lens). In addition, when the OAV series anime began being produced in June of 1993, this plot situation of Keiichi giving a ring to Belldandy was altered significantly to become the essential core of the whole five part series. And most recently, the gift of a ring at Xmas from K-1 to Bell proved to be a key element to the story’s conclusion in the novel First End, published in July 2006. It even made an appearance in the TV anime, but here’s where a sort of mystery concerning the ring begins.
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1.2 - Because in the TV anime it gets featured in only one episode, number three of the second season (“Ah! I Offer You This Feeling on Christmas Eve!” shown April 20, 2006), and then is only included for that episode. In episode four the ring isn’t shown on the finger of Belldandy’s hand it had been placed on in the previous episode, nor does it appear again for the rest of the season. Having not been included in the entire first season as well, the ring appears to therefore have little importance to the TV anime even though her two goddess rings are faithfully drawn on their respective fingers. And this lack of importance and appearance carries over to the Movie and the Adventures of the Mini-Goddesses.
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1.3 - Now admittedly the Adventures of the Mini-Goddesses was a Just-For-Fun side trip and the fact that Belldandy’s fingers weren’t drawn with Keiichi’s ring on them isn’t very important (they also left off the goddess rings). But the Movie was a major undertaking and came out before the TV anime and after the OAVs, yet Belldandy’s ring finger is conspicuously lacking Keiichi’s ring throughout the movie (although her two goddess rings continue to be present). Exactly what this all might mean is something I’ve been meaning to look at for a long time.
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2.0 - SOME BACKGROUND INFORMATION
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2.0.1 – Of course it wouldn’t be one of my articles if it didn’t include a lot of useless random facts on stuff that really doesn’t have much bearing on Oh/Ah My Goddess. I’ve tried to limit this to what symbology rings came to represent in our various cultures and how they became part of the language of romance and marriage in the West and how this custom reached Japan. We’ll see how I do.
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2.0.2 - Actually, the idea behind this part of the exercise is to try and establish what the cultural symbolism and meaning of rings might be and how this might have effected Mr. Fujishima’s attitudes toward using the ring in his story, especially how they are perceived in traditional and modern Japanese culture and specifically as to how they relate to interpersonal relationships. So here goes.
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2.1 - Circles of Infinity
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2.1.1 - Rings as such have been around for nearly as long as humanity has been making fabricated jewelry. Once the technical skills to make a circle out of some material that would fit around a finger existed, someone started wearing them. And just as soon as they were being worn they began to take on a symbolic significance, but at first this had little to nothing to do with love or marriage. (There is some symbolism involved in sticking a finger through a circle, but we’ll just leave that part alone.)
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2.1.2 - Rings have always obtained their symbolic value from the fact that they are circles. This puts them in the same mystical and metaphysical category as Mandela, magic circles, fairy rings, Stonehenge, Odin’s eye, and all the other round and spherical objects of magical mythology. What primarily gives circles their strong magical connotations to the mystic geometricians is how they represent a single unbroken path or barrier that by turning back onto itself can seemingly keep going on forever while defining a fixed or finite area.
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2.1.3 - There are three distinct parts to a circle’s anatomy and it is by combining these in various symbolic interpretations that allows circles to be applied to so many metaphysical and philosophical situations...
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The first is the infinite and unknown space outside of the circle’s rim, a vast unlimited area undefined except for the fact that it is on the far side of the circle’s circumference.
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The second is the limited and known space contained within the circle’s rim, defined and restrained by the circle’s edge.
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And the final part is the actual round boundary line that separates the infinite and indefinable space outside the circle’s rim from the limited and known space within it and that by turning back and joining with itself also represents with its loops the concepts of endless and timeless cycles of repetition or eternal paths.
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2.1.4 - Because of these elements circles are often used to represent forces or processes that go on forever without pause or hindrance and thus have become symbols for both eternity and infinity (the symbol for infinity is a circle turned in on itself) and closed or sealed processes that are forever locked within themselves. An example of its use for both would be the concepts of reincarnation as depicted by the “Great Wheel of Life”.
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2.2 - Magic Rings
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(and the Hobbits that carry them)
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2.2.1 - Rings were very early held to have magical curative powers, initially because of the materials they were made from. Iron has long been held to be proof against fairy magic and an iron ring would be a potent protection against it. Copper, bronze, silver, gold, jade, and even grass and wood have all had symbolic values as cures for medical or spiritual problems and rings were made of such materials and worn for those purposes.
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2.2.2 - But it was the ring’s symbolism as a circular object enclosing (or entrapping) a defined area that ultimately led to the concept of magic rings. Based on the physical concept that the ring’s shape would completely surround whatever was confined within its cross-sectional area with a continuous barrier that looped back upon itself to create a infinite tube from which there could be no escape, it was considered metaphysically possible for a magician to trap or enclose a demon or other magical spirit in a specially prepared ring and keep it there safely where it would serve whoever wore the ring and knew how to use it.
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Such rings were often made of special metal mixtures or layers of metals and would have spells and names of power engraved on them to help seal them. Often special stones or carved and engraved mountings would be attached to the ring to allow the demon/spirit a window to see out from or a door to leave by and do its master’s bidding before returning to the ring. Interestingly enough, this concept seems to have been first developed in the Far East, as related in such stories as the Chinese Tale of Corcud and his Four Sons. In this story Corcud’s ring is composed of six metals and would insure the wearer of success in any action they needed to take. From here the idea moved west along the trade routes to the Middle East and Europe and eventually J.R.R. Tolkien.
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2.3 - Ringing Endorsements
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2.3.1 - It was from the aspect of a circle’s confining something within an eternal boundary that the ring gained most of its mythological associations, since the concept of retaining something within its never-ending loop made rings a perfect symbol for eternal pledges, oaths and other promises and commitments meant to last forever (or at least a specified period of time). As such, rings came to be used as the emblems and badges for positions of authority where the wearer would either give such oaths or would be the recipient of them (kings, lords, nobles, officials, priests, merchants, etc.) and became one of the items such things were sworn on. A ring was an excellent symbol of a pledge or promise between people, families, or clans and the exchange or presentation of such a ring was often the means to seal such a commitment between people in positions of power. This of course led to the seal ring, or signet, gaining the prominence it did.
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As another example of how a ring was used to symbolize an eternal condition, Roman slaves who were released from work because of age, injury or other infirmity were required to wear an iron finger ring as a reminder that they were not free and still held in bondage.
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2.3.2 - It was as a symbol of a pledge or agreement that rings first became part of various marriage traditions; a good example being how in Roman marital arrangements the groom or his family would present the bride or her family with a ring as a final pledge to seal the agreement. But the ring was still not considered as part of the marriage or as binding the two people together, it only showed that a marriage agreement had become official. In this way it could be considered an engagement ring, but the actual marriage ceremony was still ring-less and consisted of the individuals’ and families’ oaths and other ritual acts. When the marriage rites were completed the ring could be discarded or reused.
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2.4 - “With or Without This Ring, You’re STILL Wed”
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2.4.1 - Strangely enough, rings have only become part of the routine paraphernalia of love, romance and marriage relatively recently. While there were cultures and customs that used rings in various forms for their wedding and courtship rituals, these were generally local, varied from place to place, and were not at all widely accepted. The rings were also often not placed on fingers but rather were pierced or hooked on other body parts (or took the form of bracelets, earrings, or neck hoops). It was only in the last 600 years in Europe and America and the last 200 years in the rest of the world that wedding rings as we know them have become widespread. And even now some cultures and religions still don’t consider them as part of the mating game.
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2.4.2 - The placing of a ring on the bride’s finger as part of the wedding ceremony finally came about through an unusual route. It was actually due to the importance of signet rings as symbols of authority over an estate or business. The heads of families and clans would either give their own signet ring or suitably modified ones to a person or persons they trusted to authorize them to give orders and make agreements in the higher ranked person’s name while they were away or otherwise unavailable, thus making them their equals in authority in certain defined situations. These auxiliary signet rings became permanent equipment for agents of the higher ranked person if they were stationed in some remote location or continuously handled a job that the ranked person didn’t wish to get involved with but required their authority. Thus a system evolved where a seal or signet ring would establish a noble or official’s authority as an equal (with reservations) to the one who had given it to him. Seneschals, stewards, marshals, bishops, and many other under-officers to the great and powerful were the recipients of such rings.
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2.4.3 - One result of this system was that it became a common custom starting as far back as the middle Roman period for husbands of wealthy or noble families to give their wives a slightly smaller version of their signet rings to show they could issue commands the same as their husbands and were in every respect their representatives and equals. (At least as far as household and estate matters were concerned. In some cases this also carried over to business and politics, but this was up to the individuals involved.) By the middle ages the presenting of this ring had become traditional amongst the upper classes and was practically a requirement of the wedding agreement. But it was still more of a legal transaction than romantic symbolism.
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2.4.4 - Finally, by the late Middle Ages - early Renaissance the presenting of the ring to the bride began to be part of the wedding ceremony itself rather than something done a few days later, a sort of welcome to the family gift in response to her dowry. Since rings had always had the tradition of sealing oaths and promises, it was a very small step for this giving of the ring to gain such an oath or promise aspect as well and it was finally made part of the wedding ritual. But it was mostly an auxiliary feature for rich and noble weddings, people with little or no money continued to be married without rings and didn’t mind a bit, nor did the church.
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2.4.5 - However, it is a fact of life that the lower classes like to copy the customs of the upper classes if they can, and if a tinker can make a few extra farthings selling cheap rings to the local boys to impress their gals no one’s going to stop them. By Elizabethan times even a peasant wedding was likely to include a ring in the ceremony and the church standard texts for wedding rites included various versions of “With this ring…” It was still possible to be married without a ring; it had just become the custom to use one in Christian Europe. From there the custom was spread around the world by means of the influence of European culture through trade and colonization. Many countries had a ring tradition of their own, like India where both bride and groom wore rings for various ceremonial reasons and where the two quickly assimilated. Others had none, but where there’s a profit to be made selling jewelry, there’s a way to promote an idea. Especially if one wants to appear modern and civilized.
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2.5 - Rings of the Orient
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2.5.1 - In China and Japan rings were symbols of respect and power, following their traditional relationship with oaths and promises and eternal cycles. They were very much the province of nobles and aristocrats, not brides and lovers. In early Japan women displayed their marital status through hairstyles, the length of their sleeves, the colors and style of Kimonos they would wear, and the rather interesting fashion of painting their front teeth black (in the Edo era at least, late 1800s). It’s only been in the last 100 years or so that wedding rings have become a big thing in Japan. Japanese weddings are symbolized by the shared sipping of Saki by the bride and groom and their families while pledging themselves to each other. Even now the rings are not considered to have any magical or religious connotations; they’re just there because it’s a cool Western custom. While engagement rings have become a source of excitement for young ladies, the gift of a ring between a young couple is more likely to be seen along the lines of a serious friendship pledge, a statement of commitment until they are ready to actually consider marriage.
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2.6 - Hand Ringing
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2.6.1 - Rings are worn on the third finger because there was supposed to be a blood vessel or nerve that directly connected that finger to the heart. By placing the ring there, the ring’s circle could have the best effect on the heart, either protecting it or reminding it of its duty. The left hand being closer to the heart than the right hand, it was the usual choice for the wearing of a ring (and also for applying medications, for the same reason). Later the Catholic Church would change this to the right hand for weddings and religious ceremonies because the left hand usage was based on pagan beliefs while the right hand was more righteous (I’m not making this up). But because the right hand is more often used for labor and thereby exposes any jewelry worn on it to a higher risk of damage, this switch to the right hand wasn’t universally followed and so rings are found worn on either hand depending on local custom. (This is the same reason wrist watches were made with their winding stems set to the right as it was assumed they’d be worn on the left hand and that would be convenient for the right hand to adjust and wind them.)
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2.7 – The Language of Rings
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2.7.1 - In the age of Chivalry and Romance, the wearing of rings gained a certain language as a code for lovers, much like everything else in that era (fans, hats, feathers, flowers, etc.). These rules changed according to time and location but they make for interesting reading. For example - a ring worn on the forefinger would indicate a haughty, bold, and overbearing spirit while on the long finger, prudence, dignity, and discretion; one on the marriage finger, love and affection while the little finger showed a masterful spirit. If a lady or gentleman was willing to marry, but not engaged, their ring should be worn on the index finger of the left hand; if they were engaged, on the second finger; if already married, on the third finger; but if either had no desire to marry, their rings should be worn on the little finger.
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3.0 - THE GODDESS RING CYCLE
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3.1 – Das Ring-Geld
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(or how much is that ring in the window?)
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3.1.1 - One area where actual comparative analysis can take place on the subject is in the varying costs and periods of time Keiichi had to work to earn the price of the ring in the different versions of the story.
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3.1.2 - In the original manga he has seven days to raise the money to purchase the ring he wants. This one is marked as 150,000 yen (in October 1989 yen or $1500 today) and while Keiichi manages to make that much, he forgets about the taxes (4500 yen) and winds up short. He therefore has to buy a cheaper ring for 120,000 yen. This is could actually have been of some importance to understanding the story since it shows it isn’t the ring itself that has value but what the gift of it symbolizes. While Keiichi does play a part in picking the first ring, it was Urd who first points it out and then convinces him to get it for her sister. Therefore Belldandy has no input as to its selection and as far as she is concerned it could be a twisted paperclip as long as the effort and emotion Keiichi put into getting it for her was the same. So the substitution of a cheaper ring can be considered as just emphasizing this point.
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3.1.3 - In the OAV things are a bit more hectic and Keiichi only has two days to come up with the cash. Fortunately the ring he’s chosen has a list price of only 58,000 yen (in January 1995 yen), probably to make his being able to buy it more believable, which with taxes and his forgetting the change probably made it 60,000 yen he left on the counter. Again in this case Belldandy has no part in the ring’s selection and it is only the act of the ring being given to her to complete the old promise that is important to her and the story and not the ring in itself. (If Keiichi had given her the toy ring he had in his hand before she erased his memories the whole crisis in the OAV story might have been eliminated as both parts of the wish/contract would have been fulfilled; Bell-chan would have met K-chan the next day and he would have given her the gift he had in mind, the ring. It was his failure “to give her something” that left their illegal contract open. Not that either of them understood this but the powers that be in the heavens sure weren’t on the ball.)
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3.1.4 - The ring shows up again in the novel, First End, although no details as to its cost and how Keiichi goes about earning it are given other than again he’s working odd jobs to make money. In this case it is given as a Christmas present to Belldandy by Keiichi and becomes another clue that events are following pre-existing channels in spite of the goddesses’ efforts. It remains a symbol of Keiichi’s commitment and affection for Belldandy and again it is the act of giving it to her that carries the most weight and not the ring itself.
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To discuss things further would be a bad spoiler for the novel, but I think it is safe to say that by the end the ring is left to symbolize the possibility that the story’s end is not quite final, commitments and promises can endure anything, and further developments can be left to the reader’s imagination. It’s not a very satisfactory ending by Western standards, but may be a good one by Japanese.
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3.1.5 - In the TV anime the ring’s price has gone back up to 200,000 yen (in April 2006 yen, taking into account inflation from 1989) and Keiichi only has four days to earn it (minimum wage would have gone up too). In this case Keiichi has brought Belldandy into the selection process and shown her the ring ahead of time to get her approval; changing the story’s whole dynamic somewhat in that it becomes that actual ring which is important for Keiichi to get instead of just his giving one to her as a symbol of his devotion.
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This alters the entire storyline, ending in the final confrontation when Keiichi must challenge Sayoko for possession of this exact ring because IT has become the goal of the story and not the act of giving. The result of this is to severely diminish the importance of the ring’s symbolism in the TV anime and one possible reason why it is never seen again after this episode.
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3.2 – Die Valk-Ring
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(or giving a gift ring to a female Norse deity in a manga, hoy-tey-hoy-yaa!)
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3.2.1 - The ring first appears in manga chapter 16, volume 2, issue date December 1989, release date October 25 1989, Dark Horse title - What Belldandy Wants Most, Kodansha title - Berudandi gaichiban Hoshigaru mono. At some point I had found an independent translation of this chapter but I cannot relocate it nor do I remember much from it other than it wasn’t much different from the Dark Horse version. The following is all based on the two Dark Horse versions with the most emphasis placed on the latest one.
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3.2.2 - Chapter 16 represented the one year anniversary of Belldandy’s stay on Earth with Keiichi, during which time the story had gone through considerable changes in both artwork and narrative style. Starting as rather broad collection of gags, jokes, cameos, and slapstick situations based on a goddess out of her element trying to fit into the everyday life of a hapless loser college student, the story had quickly developed its own flow and style and its characters’ rough edges soon disappeared to leave the personalities we’ve come to know today.
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3.2.3 - But even from the first chapters it was evident that Mr. Fujishima had spent some time creating backgrounds for his creations and by the third and fourth chapters the direction things were going to go seems to have been laid out. Sayoko, Mara, and Urd’s personalities were all fleshed out when they appear and their roles were clearly defined. The same is true for Skuld when she appears and it is not at all stretching the point to say that it is highly likely that Mr. Fujishima has several long term plans for the story neatly laid out and it’s only a matter of how and when things are going to be revealed or happen that concerns him for the overall plot. (He is however constantly changing the current plot to fit with whatever ideas he’s come up with for the immediate situation.)
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3.2.4 - So it’s significant that Mr. Fujishima chose this first year anniversary to introduce the ring into the plot line, almost as if it were to be considered a starting point. Now in the manga it should be noted that the initial idea to give Belldandy the ring was Urd’s, Keiichi’s thoughts being only that he needed a gift of some sort to give Belldandy to show how much he appreciated her just being with him. But after deciding Megumi and Urd’s initial suggestions weren’t very suitable and that Belldandy’s request for a liter of soy sauce didn’t exactly fit the bill either (even with a ribbon on it), Keiichi was really at a loss for something that would say “Thanks for a year of bliss.”
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3.2.5 - It’s at this point that Urd, who has been tailing Keiichi, attracts his attention to a jewelry store he’s passing by and brings a ring in the window to his attention. While covering her tracks by making it seem like another of her pranks, she still manages to plant the idea in Keiichi’s mind that the ring would be a perfect gift for Belldandy. This is actually of some importance because Urd would understand what sort of gifts would have the greatest significance to someone from the heavens and her sister specifically, so she seems to be making sure that what Keiichi gets will have the largest possible impact on Belldandy.
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3.2.6 - From this it can be inferred that rings have a special meaning in the heavens, a supposition that is further supported by the two rings shown on the third fingers of many of the ranked gods and goddesses such as Urd and Belldandy when they’re not wearing gloves and the multiple rings the higher ranked deities are sometimes shown displaying. (Chrono, Ere, and Ex have not been shown with rings, neither has Skuld nor Mara, but both are usually wearing gloves and one’s a junior goddess and the other a demon. Lind/Rind is always shown wearing gloves so we can’t tell about her and. Peorth was initially shown with two finger rings but then stopped having them shortly after her introduction. But she was also being switched about with various glove styles all the time so it is easy to see how her rings could have been lost from her master character profile. Hild has four rings on each hand and the god who took Urd’s hand in the TV anime had four finger rings and a thumb ring. In the Lord of Terror arc Kami-sama has two finger rings on each hand, as does Bell after her seal is broken. Take all of this for what you want to make of it.)
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3.2.7 - After this we are shown Keiichi slowly making up his mind over the matter, the price is high but Belldandy is worth far more to him and she certainly deserves the effort. Finally, having concluded that the ring would be the only gift that could express his feelings for what Belldandy’s presence in his life had come to mean to him, Keiichi gets up like a man entranced to put his plans into action. We then follow Keiichi through various trials and tribulations as he labors frantically to raise the 150,000 yen he needs in seven days. While this is going on there is a side plot played out as Belldandy first accuses Urd of having done something to Keiichi to make him act so strange, but then comes to the realization that whatever is driving her K-san, it’s coming from within his own heart and she must wait for him to decide when he will reveal it to her.
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3.2.8 – In the end, Keiichi raises the 150,000 yen, but having forgotten about the sales tax (which was something new in Japan in 1989) is forced to buy a slightly cheaper (120,000 yen) ring. But the amount of time and effort he’s put into this gift remains the same so its symbolic value remains unchanged. Now Belldandy arrives through a convenient mirror, bright eyed and excitedly curious about what this has all been about. Her anticipation is perhaps emphasized by how she’s dressed; a definitely youthful style with sneakers and mini skirt to give her an air of adolescent energy and expectation. The ring does seem to catch her off guard for a moment; her initial reaction is a wide eyed state of surprise and perhaps a little confusion. But she recovers quickly, and accepts it with a stammered thank you, her eyes tearing up while it’s Keiichi’s turn to look a little embarrassed and confused.
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(It’s been pointed out in a commentary on the OAV series that Belldandy’s reaction to Keiichi’s giving her the warm drink can in the first OAV might be because the giving of personal gifts has a very strong meaning in the Heavens. Part of this argument is based on the can being seen later in the Tea Room with Belldandy’s other mementos. If a drink container can have such significance, a ring with all the attendant labor and effort behind it would have to carry an awesome impact.)
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3.2.9 - It’s obvious the ring is having a far greater effect on Belldandy than Keiichi had anticipated and that its gift to her has a deeper significance than just as an anniversary present. It’s quickly placed on her finger, and then Belldandy seemly changes her mood and tone of voice. Brushing the moisture from her eyes and giving Keiichi a stern look, she admonishes him that as his wish was for her to stay by his side forever and that as his continued good health is necessary for him to remain present so that they can remain together on earth in such happiness, she doesn’t appreciate anything he might do that might reduce their time together. But while she has seemingly turned serious on Keiichi for the moment, her final admonishment of, ”Don’t ever… …do that again.” is accompanied by the sort of airborne hug and kiss from Belldandy that Keiichi might have only dreamed of in the past; and perhaps based on the look on his face had never dared to dream of. Definitely a mixed message and one that indicates something was deeply stirred in Belldandy’s heart.
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3.2.10 – There is no doubt that the gift of the ring has had a great impact on Belldandy and that it’s the fact that Keiichi was willing to put out so much effort just to get her something to thank her for her presence while she’s only doing what she considers her duty that has kicked her response and their relationship to such a higher level. From now on, whenever she wonders just what Keiichi thinks of her and her presence, all she has to do is feel the ring on her finger and the reassurance that this is more than just a contract between them is there instantly. For someone like Belldandy, who needs that kind of confirmation in her life, this is a priceless gift. And the more external reassurance she receives from Keiichi about their relationship, the stronger this tactile bond she feels with the ring becomes as it acts as a sort of storage battery for her emotions. (While I’m assuming this is an emotional bond, Belldandy being a goddess could also give it a real energy component which might play into the situation in chapter 77 and why it was left out of the movie.)
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Source:

In his essay, "Pleasures," Huxley argues that modern pleasures make people weak.
He cites historical examples of people mostly experiencing pleasure/entertainment by utilizing skill or their intellect. People had to “exert their minds to an uncommon degree” to entertain themselves.
Examples from the essay:

• In Elizabethan times, commoners “could be relied upon” to break into complex musical acts like madrigals or motets.
• Theological debates were arranged as entertainment at royal weddings. Lord Williams and Cambridge logicians hashed it out at Prince Palatine’s engagement party.

In the past, entertainment was a consequence of active, and intense, collaboration between friends, family, and neighbors, he writes.
It his general premise correct? Was the majority of premodern entertainment effortful?
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A mason will tell you the origins of Free Masonry began (a) with the building of King Solomon’s Temple, and (b) Masonic knowledge was somehow transmitted over a vast time to take root in the “operative” stone masons guilds of medieval Europe—culminating in the founding of the English Grand Lodge of “Free and Accepted Masons” in 1717.
Some Masons will even go so far as to allude to extremely vague words, names and phrases from the Old Testament in a vain attempt to legitimize the claims of “Masonic tradition”.
The problem with “Masonic tradition”, however, is that it rests on supposition rather than historical fact—starting with the mythical story of Hiram Abiff who, according to Masonic tradition, was the “Grand Master” architect who oversaw the construction of King Solomon’s temple.
Of course, there’s no historical, archeological, or even biblical evidence to support the Hiramic myth.
The “Regius poem”, AKA the “Halliwell Manuscript” (circa 1390) is understood to be the oldest genuine record of the “Masonic Craft” known to exist. Yet it says absolutely nothing of Hiram Abiff or the building of King Solomon’s temple.The glaring lack of evidence to support the existence of the Hiramic myth by the early fifteenth century is only too obvious.
Clearly, the story of Hiram as the founder of Freemasonry hadn’t yet been conceived—who invented him, and why?

Sir Francis Bacon

Some eighty three years prior to the writing of the Regius Poem (which basically provided a constitutional outline for early Masonic philosophy and principles) The Church had declared an all-out war against all progressive scientific and philosophical thinking deemed to deviate in the slightest degree from Catholic dogma—the great inquisition had arrived. Those persecuted fled underground (figuratively). Those who were accused of, or believed to be harboring heretical beliefs were condemned to be burned alive at the stake. As a result, most of Europe’s leading minds became members of a loosely knit secret society generically known as the “Invisible College” or the “Great Society”—but in truth it was the precursor of what would become the Rose Croix or Rosi Cross Order (the Rosicrucians).
Ironically, this secret underground movement, which made great advances in the arts and the sciences, was unwittingly sponsored by rich patrons of the Church—indeed by the Church itself—all under the guise of producing religious art. The underground “Rosicrucian Movement” became the exact cause of the Italian Renaissance. Great Renaissance masters such as Da Vinci and Michelangelo took special delight in secretly thumbing their noses at the Church by hiding heretical esoteric messages in their work.
The flow of esoteric thinking that bridged the latter part of the sixteenth century into the seventeenth century brought about the intellectual explosion of the English Renaissance, which spawned revolutionary innovations in literature, science and social philosophy, with Francis Bacon as its supreme architect. He would fuse the Rosicrucian and Masonic esoteric traditions together, raising them to a new synthesis of knowledge and understanding that hadn’t been seen before.
Bacon would spend the rest of his life laboring at something he called his “Great Instauration”—a highly ambitious and dynamic plan to create an entirely new way of thinking that would have a dramatic impact on all future human endeavors. The implementation of the Great Instauration first required organization and structure. Early on, young Bacon understood the need to transform the primitive and deficient English Language into a dynamic medium that would be capable of conveying highly sophisticated ideas in the same manner as the classical Latin Language. Bacon further understood that the most efficient way to disseminate a new English Language to the illiterate masses was to unleash it through the sheer power of the theater.
To that end, he devised a new form of playwriting inspired by his adopted muse, the Greek goddess Pallas Athena, AKA “The Spear Shaker”. The first “Shakespearean” work, Venus and Adonis, was published anonymously. Then, as other poems and the plays began to unfold, the pseudonymous name of “Shake-Speare” or “Shakespeare” began to emerge. By design, the sumptuous language of Shakespeare was the perfect vehicle for espousing Masonic-Rosicrucian principles and ideology. Pallas Athena using her spear to stamp out the serpent of ignorance. This became a symbolic cornerstone for both the Great Instauration and Speculative Masonry. For Bacon the act of “spear shaking”, i.e. the act of ridding humanity of the corrupt and pernicious effect of ignorance constitutes the foundation of his Great Instauration. Thus, the four Masonic lodge officers who carry (shake) spears are charged with the duty of preparing and guiding all “Candidates” for and through their initiatory education in the three Masonic blue lodge degrees. To that end, these four spear shaking officers exemplify the enlightening spirit of Pallas Athena.

The Rosicrucians

The second decade of the seventeenth century saw the publication of three successive “Rosicrucian Manifestos”, i.e. the Fama Fraternitatis (1614), the Confessio Fraternitatis (1615), and the Chymical Wedding of Christian Rosenkreutz (1616).
Although the three manifestos had been written anonymously, they clearly have Bacon’s fingerprints all over them. The Rosicrucian Movement had finally been given a stated purpose which bore an uncanny resemblance to Bacon’s Great Instauration—along with a blueprint for the establishment of a Rosicrucian utopia. Indeed, the Confessio Fraternitatis was a precursor to Bacon’s later work, titled The New Atlantis. With the Rosicrucian manifestos out of the way Bacon turned his attention toward transforming his Fra Rosi Crosse society (which consisted of a select few friends and scriveners who assisted him in the production of the Shakespearean works) into a new form of Masonry that would eventually become known as “Speculative Freemasonry”.
This new Order of Masonry differs from the old Operative Masonry as it is strictly dedicated to building the character of men through the application of philosophical ideals and principles rather than building stone structures. As had been the case with Christian Rosenkreutz, who was the mythical founder of Rosicrucianism, Masonry needed a mythical founder of its own, and voila, Hiram Abiff was born.
As we shall see, neither the names of the two mythical founders nor the founding years of 1407 and 1617 were accidental. Bacon’s use of ciphered messages pervaded virtually everything he wrote. For example, both of the names Rosenkreutz and Hiram Abiff correspond to the number 55 in the Pythagorean table. And with regard to the year 1407, Bacon playfully invites us to look at the number in reverse—rendering the number 7041, or rather the numbers 70 and 41. When combined they add up to the important Kabbalistic number 111, which serves as one of Bacon’s favorite cipher signatures as it corresponds (in the Kaye Cipher) to the name Bacon. As we shall see, the number 111 shows up consistently throughout the pages of Shakespeare.
The mythical founding of the Rosicrucian Order in the year 1407 is also important because it occurs exactly 100 years after the destruction of the Knights Templar. For Bacon 100 was an ideal cipher number for representing his full name in accordance with the Elizabethan Simple Cipher table, i.e. Francis = 67, and Bacon = 33 (another important signature number).
Furthermore, he often used the Roman numeral “C” (lunate sigma) as code for his full name—thus, we find the number “C” branded on the side of a boar that is prominently displayed at the top of Bacon’s coat of arms. Not surprising is the fact that the Fama Fraternitatis tells us that the founding brothers of the Rosicrucian Order were to meet on day C (day 100) of every year—additionally they were to keep the existence of their Order a secret for exactly 100 years.
As we’ve already seen, the number 111 (Kaye Cipher for Bacon) and the number 33 (Simple Cipher for Bacon) were widely favored by him. However, Bacon occasionally used the numbers 15 (Short Cipher) and 17 (Pythagorean Cipher) to represent his last name.

Free Masonry

In the late years of his life, Bacon employed the playwright Ben Jonson as his secretary. Jonson also lived with Bacon at Gorhambury. In addition to assisting in the production of the Shakespearean works, there is ample evidence to suggest that Jonson became one of Bacon’s early Speculative Masons. One highly compelling clue pointing to Jonson as a Mason is the headpiece that appears above his mysterious eulogy of a supposedly deceased Shakespeare in the 1623 Shakespeare Folio. The headpiece consists of a contiguous row of upright mason squares. To this day, the square is the insignia worn by the “Worshipful Master” of a Masonic blue lodge. The row of squares in the headpiece actually spells out the letters WM twice. As all Masons know, the letters WM are shorthand for Worshipful Master. Was the headpiece alluding to Ben Jonson as a Worshipful Master? Whatever the purpose of the headpiece was, its symbolic connection to Masonry is undeniable.
As a code device, the headpiece strongly suggests a connection to Bacon (the original Worshipful Master) for the following reasons:
(a) the letters WM add up (in both the Kaye and Simple Ciphers) to the number 33 (Bacon, Simple Cipher), and
(b) the word “Worshipful” corresponds (Reverse Cipher) to the number 111 (Bacon, Kaye Cipher). To this day, all Worshipful Masters and Past Masters proudly carry the title of Worshipful, followed by their last name.
In his eulogy, Jonson makes it quite clear that he is well acquainted with the author of the Shakespearean work, whom he refers to as “My beloved”. But the most intriguing clue to the author’s identity is in Jonson’s cryptic reference to “Sweet Swan of Avon” Once again the answer to the riddle rests with the first letter in each word, i.e. S S O A. Sure enough, these letters add up (Simple Cipher) to 51 ( Francis Bacon, Pythagorean Cipher).

Hiram Abiff

The ultimate goal of the Candidate’s journey through the three Masonic blue lodge degrees is to be “Raised” to the “Sublime Degree of Master Mason”. It sounds great, but what does it really mean? The Candidate hopefully discovers the true meaning by participating in a staged play in which he is cast in the role of Hiram, and the Hiramic myth is played out.
The Hiramic myth has the Grand Master Hiram Abiff being confronted by three lesser Fellowcraft Masons who tell him they will take his life unless he reveals the secret of the Master Mason. Being the virtuous man he is, Hiram refuses to give up the secret, whereupon the three “ruffians” known as “Jubela, Jubelo, and Jubelum”(note: three J letters = 111, Pythagorean Cipher) all participate in murdering him. Then they remove his corpse out to the countryside and bury him in a shallow grave, marking it with a tiny sprig from an Acacia tree. Perplexed by Hiram’s absence King Solomon sends out a cadre of Fellowcraft Masons (all wearing white gloves) to search for their Worshipful Grand Master.
Eventually they discover his shallow grave (marked by the acacia sprig) and dig up his decomposed body. It’s important to note their repulsion of the stench emanating from Hiram’s rotting corpse—this is a crucial theme in Bacon’s tale of the origin of the Great Instauration. In fact, the Hiramic play of the Masonic Third Degree IS AN ENACTMENT OF BACON’S GREAT INSTAURATION! Upon digging up Hiram’s remains, King Solomon takes hold of Hiram’s dead hand (using the secret grip of the Master Mason) then RAISES him to an upright stance. A transmutation has taken place as if the noble spirit of Hiram has entered the Candidate’s body—resulting in some sort of apotheosis. Hiram is reborn—the Great Instauration is complete. This newly Raised Hiram is a different person than he was before. King Solomon (Bacon) whispers three words in his ear. These words are a “substitute” for the original lost WORD (knowledge) of the Master Mason. The words themselves are not important but the first letter of each word is of the utmost significance. The letters are M, H, B. These letters are a code—a code for what?
Two things STAND OUT: (a) M H B adds up (in the Simple Cipher) to the number 22. This number is code for Bacon’s birth date, i.e. January 22, the 22nd day of the year. And (b) M H B also corresponds to Shakespeare’s number 13 in the Short Cipher. Thus, the newly Raised Hiram is reborn in accordance with Bacon’s birth date, and he reemerges as Shakespeare—the spirit of the Great Instauration. The new Master Mason is then ceremoniously given the acacia sprig that had marked his grave. As we shall further see, the uncanny duality between Shakespeare and Hiram Abiff plays out in the Shakespearean works.
There’s a lot of Shakespeare in Freemasonry and a lot of Freemasonry in Shakespeare. An excellent example of this is to be found (appropriately) in Scene 3 of Act 3 in the Shakespeare play Macbeth in which Banquo is murdered in the same manner as Hiram Abiff. But the most compelling display of the Hiram-Shakespeare connection unfolds in the 1640 edition of SHAKE-SPEARES SONNETS. On the cover page, we find the William Marshall engraving—a presumed depiction of Shakespeare. Take a careful look. Notice his left hand is clad in the white glove of the Masonic Third Degree. Furthermore, the gloved hand holds the acacia sprig. Shakespeare is actually being shown as a newly Raised Hiram Abiff.
The highly cryptic “Dedicatory” page for SHAKE-SPEARES SONNETS provides yet another clue to the identity of the man on the cover. The Sonnets are dedicated to their “Onlie Begetter”, a “Mr. W. H.” also referred to as “OUR.EVER-LIVING.POET”. For centuries people have puzzled over who Mr. W. H. is. Hmmm, who could he possibly be? Mr. Worshipful Hiram.
If the business with the white glove and the acacia sprig were not enough, we are compelled to go back to the cipher tables. Ah yes, the letters W H add up in the Kaye Cipher to the number 55, and, as noted earlier, 55 = Hiram Abiff (Pythagorean Cipher).
The Fellowcraft Masons who are charged with the job of digging up Hiram’s decayed body put on white gloves prior to the performance of their duty. There are two reasons for wearing the gloves. First, in Masonry, the color white symbolizes innocence and fidelity. The hands that uncover Hiram’s remains must be pure and uncorrupted. Second, the words White Gloves add up (Pythagorean Cipher) to the number 55, which corresponds to the name Hiram Abiff
The Acacia tree, which is indigenous to the world’s Middle Eastern region, possess the remarkable ability to dry up and die during periods of severe drought. Then, when water returns to its roots, it is able to regenerate back to a living state of existence—as if reborn. For this reason a sprig from the Acacia tree is symbolic of immortality. However, there is still a deeper meaning to it. The words Acacia Sprig add up (Pythagorean Cipher) to the number 51, which corresponds to the name Francis Bacon.
Finally, Shakespeare Plus Hiram Abiff Equals Francis Bacon. As we saw earlier, 13 is Shakespeare’s number.
However, there is another number that represents Shakespeare, i.e. 45. Notice that both the name Shakespeare and the word Thirteen correspond (Pythagorean Cipher) to the number 45. Therefore, 45 (Shakespeare) + 55 (Hiram Abiff) = 100 = Francis Bacon (Simple Cipher).
This is not my discovery or post, you may find the original here, with more detail in ciphers and hidden clues. Freemasonry and Francis Bacon the Spear Shaker Peace is Our True Nature (worldpeacefull.com)

Welcome back to the fourth of five discussions. What a section!
TW: Gun violence, homophobia
Pivots, 3
The crew launched Mapleworld, and Sam accidentally discovered that Sadie and Marx were in love. We learn that Sam had adopted his dog, Tuesday, after he found her in the road with a hurt leg (possibly his doing) when she ran out in front of his car. Once, when she had healed, he took her to a dog park, and a lady mistook her for a coyote (just as he originally had). He cussed her out for her assumption. When he retold the story to Sadie, he had gotten upset with her for laughing even though he had told it in a humorous way. Back in the present, Sam went to his grandparents' place to pick up Tuesday. He told his grandpa about his disappointment that Sadie was now unavailable, and his grandpa encouraged him to pivot. On his way back to the office, Sam found an unmarked road and decided to take it.
Marriages, 1
Sam had an avatar as the mayor of Mapletown on Mapleworld. The game was successful enough that its servers crashed due to high traffic, and Mayor Mazer became a well-known pop-culture character. Sam gave a TED talk on the possibility that virtual worlds could be more moral than the real world, but he alluded to a contradictory incident at Unfair Games.
Marriages, 2
Dov called to tell Sadie he was truly getting divorced, and he was also marrying another former student who was a bit younger than Sadie. On a drive, Sam confronted Marx and Sadie about whether they were together. They admitted they were. In a private conversation with Sadie, Sam claimed to be surprised Sadie would be interested in someone as "boring" as Marx. Sam shaved his head.
Sadie had an idea for a theatre-themed game inspired by Marx, and Sam reacted badly to the pitch. One of the founding principles of unfair games was that at least two of the three of them had to agree to make a game, but Sam pointed out with choice words that Marx was biased toward Sadie. Indeed, Marx approved the game. Sam told Marx that darkness was not the best part of Sadie.
Marx asked Sadie why she and Sam drifted apart, and she told him about Sam's betrayal with sending her to Dov for Ulysses. Marx said he wasn't sure Sam would have seen the message on the CD-ROM because Marx remembered being the one to put the disc in the drive. Sadie said it was also Sam taking all the public credit and her own desire to make something on her own. Sadie and Marx bought a house together, and Sadie observed that Marx's apparent good fortune seemed to be a direct result of his gratitude.
Marriages, 3
Gay marriage became legal in San Francisco, and Ant and Simon debated whether to get married. They decided to go with Marx, and Sadie and Sam also tagged along. Sam admitted to Sadie while they scouted for umbrellas that her game was not bad. After the wedding (the 211th of the day), the group went out for dim sum to celebrate, where Simon said he had felt lonely before meeting Ant even while being surrounded with people. Soon after, the California Supreme Court declared same-sex marriages performed in San Francisco to be void, and Ant felt an intense sense of loss.
Sadie suggested they introduce marriages on Mapleworld. Simon and Ant were remarried on Mapleworld, the first of 211 couples that day. The game lost a lot of players, but it gained even more. Unfair Games got hate mail and security threats, and Sadie was forced to see there was a negative side to publicity, too, as Sam took the hate for her idea just as he had previously taken the praise for her work. It motivated him to use Mapleworld to address other social justice issues.
Marriages, 4
Sam loved Sadie's game, Master of the Revels, but the press assumed it was his game, so Unfair Games's marketing team suggested it might gain more attention if Sam helped promote it. Sadie feared people would, as usual, assume it was completely his game. Sam kept to Marx's promise and did not take any credit for the game, but interviewers were still more interested in Sam and in assuming he and Sadie were dating. Sadie repeatedly vomited while on the promotional tour, and Sam suggested she might be pregnant when it went on longer than food poisoning ought to. Indeed, she was pregnant.
A month later, Sam and Sadie were doing an Elizabethan photo shoot for the game when their publicist got a text that there was an active shooter "at a tech company in Venice," where Unfair Games was. Sam couldn't get ahold of Marx.
Marriages, 5
Sadie texted Marx, and he said "I love you. all ok. Just kids. Talking. TOH.", which Sam explained meant "Tamer of Horses."
The NPC
(This section is told in second-person POV).
Marx believed he was a bird getting shot, at first. The he remembered he was Marx, but believed he wasn't dying. He remembered when he met Sadie. He remembered most recently meeting with a couple fans of Sadie's who were pitching a game called Our Infinite Days. Marx liked them and wanted to make their game. As they were about to leave, Marx got a call from their receptionist covertly warning him about the gunmen. He made plans for everyone to be safely barricaded into the rooftop, but he went down to the lobby unarmed, planning to have a conversation with the gunmen who seemed to be homophobic and after Sam.
In the present, Sadie lied that she was Marx's wife at the hospital. He reflected on her resistance to marriage--she had turned down his genuine proposal last year. He is in a medically induced coma and had been shot three times.
Marx remembered trying to call Sam so the attackers could speak with him, but Sam didn't pick up since he was in the photo shoot. They call him an NPC (non-playable character).
He remembered the last time he was called an NPC, when Sam was drunk after confirming that Sadie and Marx were dating. Marx had been the one to shave Sam's head, at Sam's request.
Remembering the attack again, Marx found out that their motive was that one of the attackers' wives had been inspired to come out as queer by Mapleworld and left him. Marx took them up to the office floor to show them Sam was not in the office. The police were outside. Ant came downstairs to check on Marx, and the main attacker, Josh, mistook Ant for Sam and shot at him. Marx jumped in front of the gun, but Ant still got shot once, too. Josh shot himself. Sadie called, and Marx remembered that he and Sadie had decided to keep the pregnancy.
Back in the present, it was nearly Christmas. Marx's parents were actually collaborating to make paper cranes in an effort to save him, according to the Japanese tradition of senbazuru. Sam, visiting, learned Marx's mother's American name was the same as his mother's, Anna Lee. Sam helped make paper cranes, too. Sadie told him that Master of the Revels was a best-seller. Sam said Ant was out of the hospital. Zoe visited him and told him about her current work. Marx realizes he is dying.
Marx reflects on being "Tamer of Horses." Sam got him that nameplate for his 31st birthday. He wondered if he became a game producer only by happenstance, but he wondered if anyone's lives were anything more than happenstance.
Sam and Sadie and Marx's parents were all by him. He thought of working on Our Infinite Days, but he knew it wouldn't happen. Sadie told him it was okay to let go. He dreamed of his friends all trying special peaches and making absurd metaphors for what they tasted like.
He died. Once again, he was a bird, observing the same things as before, but this time, he flew on.
Our Infinite Days, 1
Sam remembered running lines with Marx for his first production, Macbeth. His role, Banquo, reflected his own life and death. Sam also remembered asking his grandma how she got over his mother's death, and she said time and talking to Anna in her head helped.
Our Infinite Days, 2
Sam did the work to get Unfair Games up and running again, including cleaning up the office, while reflecting that Marx usually would have been the one to take care of these things. The creators of Our Infinite Games called, awkwardly asking for their concept art back, but Sam refused to entertain the request.

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]
I opened my eyes to find myself groggy, aching, and weak. An iron collar was around my neck. Though it wasn’t fastened, I was too weak to pull it off. As things began to shift into focus, I recognized Sarah’s voice, arguing with Alan and Barbara.
“This was not part of the plan,” she said angrily.
“You said you wanted to help us, and help us you have,” Barbara said.
“Not like this. I didn’t agree to this. I thought we would just take him to the barrows!”
“Don’t blame us for your own mistaken assumption.” Alan growled.
I lay on cold, damp grass, but at my back I felt heat. A lot of heat. It took me a great deal of effort but I managed to roll over to my side to see the source. A giant bonfire, stacked high with logs and scrap wooden pallets, raged before me. My shirt had been removed.
“We were only supposed to bring him to the fae!” Sarah cried. “Not kill him!”
Oh great, I thought miserably.
“This is what is required,” Barbara said coldly. “For all your charitable overtures, for all the sympathy and free goods from your shop, you’ll never be one of us. You’ll never understand what it’s like, to scrape by day by day, to lose the only man you ever loved to …to them! Life is unfair. It’s unfair for us and it’s unfair for him too!” She gestured towards me.
“You weren’t there, Sarah,” Alan said. “You didn’t have to see your child, dead, hanging on a rope from the rafters, face distorted, eyes bulging.”
“And that’s why I wanted to help you,” Sarah said. “I want you all to be free. You said returning him to the fae would break the curse. But I won’t let you kill him.”
I felt her hands at my neck. She tossed the collar to the ground and I felt my strength returning.
“I hope you kept the turtleneck, Sarah. It’s Loro Piana,” I said weakly, just managing a wink. My senses sharpening, I realized that we were not alone with Alan and Barbara. A crowd of villagers stood with them, and they glared at us with hatred. Sarah helped me to my feet.
“Shut up and start running!” she shouted.
I would have, but my legs still felt like lead. I staggered forward, almost falling. Alan grabbed my arm before I could flee, and another burly man grabbed my other arm, roughly pushing Sarah aside. Barbara restrained her.
An elderly woman, who I recognized from town, stepped forward with a bowl of a blue substance that appeared to be woad. Her face was emotionless as she dipped a gnarled hand into the woad and traced a few lines on my chest. The fire cracked and hissed before me, bright flames whipping upwards, contrasting with the overcast grey sky. Several crows were perched in the trees surrounding us, waiting for the aftermath of this dark ceremony.
The men brought me closer and closer to the blaze. More people stepped forward, lifting my legs, until I was facing the fire head first. My eyes stung, my face felt unbearably hot, as though I was being thrust into an oven. So this is how it ends. Fire. Of all things, it had to be fire. I wouldn’t even have the dignity of dying by smoke inhalation first. The fire roared and crackled, ready to consume me. Amid the din, I could hear Sarah screaming and I almost felt smug that at least she would have to live with the guilt of what she had abetted.
The men swung my body and released. For a moment, I felt nothing. I was consumed by a great bright light. And then the pain began, erupting on every inch of my skin. I heard the sound of my own voice, releasing a terrible sound, like no scream I’d ever uttered.
But then, something within me surged, a great force bubbling inside. I leapt and was carried above the fire, into the smoke. I coughed and sputtered and felt myself falling. I tried to raise my arms to brace myself, but I was too late. I crashed through the top of a tree, branches and leaves breaking my fall, albeit painfully.
I groaned, but gratefully gulped down the fresh air. I ran my hands over my face, my hair and then held them out to examine. My skin was untouched. Beyond the smoke that scorched my throat and the branches poking my back, I was miraculously unscathed. I breathed a ragged sigh of relief, filled with the wonder of my escape. Was that…me? Did I do that?
I was cradled between two large branches of a great oak tree. From my vantage point, I gazed down to see the now familiar indented circle in the soil. I noticed for the first time that the ground in the center was not even, but rather dotted with mounds, not so large as to be immediately noticeable, but gently outlined by the shadows of the grass. Barrows, perhaps. Sarah had mentioned barrows.
I searched around me for evidence of the bonfire, but all I could see was a thin plume of smoke some large distance away. The forest was silent. I carefully crept downward, aware of every snap and rustle as I descended. A mist lay over the ground, comforting after the searing heat of the fire.
On the other side of the clearing, I could just glimpse the outline of a pair of antlers. The stag came into focus as I approached and the mist receded. He watched me passively. I stepped over the indentation that traced the circle in the ground. I could see the eyes of the creature more clearly, the color was an unnatural blue, bright and disconcerting. Like mine.
“You,” I said, my voice stopping short of a shout. The stag reared on its hind legs, kicked in the air, and sped off. I ran after it, but I only made it a few steps before my foot sank into the soft ground of the barrow, which began to collapse rapidly around me, sending me into the darkness below.
I fell against what sounded like pottery as it fractured underneath me. It was pitch black—I could not see any hole above me indicating how far I had fallen. I stretched out a hand and felt hard packed dirt less than a foot away from my face. A sweaty claustrophobic anxiety settled over me. I picked up what seemed like a rounded piece of ceramic laying beside me and froze in shock. This was no piece of pottery. It had two rounded eye holes. There were teeth.
Bones. They were bones. Everywhere. I was laying on top of an ossuary. Alan’s words came back to me: They ruled over the humans here as cruel gods, empowered by no less a sacrifice than human lives. Were these the discarded remains of those unfortunates brought to the bloody altar? I thought of my dream, how magnificent it felt to bring that knife down on my victim’s neck. Maybe this is where I belong.
The bones were shifting beneath me, rumbling and giving way. I was sinking into them, they were closing in on my face. I flailed, trying to push them aside, but there were too many. I pushed away the panic enclosing around me. Keep moving, I told myself. Finally, after batting a leg bone, I could see a pale sliver of light. I barreled towards it as though swimming in a macabre sea. I pulled my body through, bringing a pile of bones with me. I brushed myself off and stood.
It was an earthen tunnel, lit only by a few torches in the wall, emitting pale, cold flame. Muffled moaning emanated from the walls, as though echoing from a distance. At the end was a massive wooden door, intricately carved with scrollwork that upon a closer look were vines and leaves adorned with acorns, berries, and other natural motifs. It was old, perhaps even medieval. It opened with ease.
Before me was a vast hall of sorts—iif something without a roof could be considered a hall—filled with different groupings of people, clearly unaware of each other. Instead of a ceiling were churning black clouds, likely an illusion for all I could tell. To my left, the walls were finely upholstered with blue damask hangings and gilded wood. The floors were an elaborate parquet. A couple, attired like aristocrats of the 18th century played a spirited game of whist at a table, a bucket of champagne at their side, with small cakes and pastries scattered about. The woman laughed and laughed as she put her cards down, her eyes vacant. She absently reached for a cake. Her companion was a handsome man, blonde hair tied back in that century’s fashion, his eyes burning, smirking at the woman with a sinister air.
To my right, big band music blared from an area arrayed like a World War II era canteen. A pair of soldiers in uniform euphorically danced with women, blonde hair permed into curls, the mark of the fae also in their eyes. A tray of tea sandwiches sat on a counter.
The humans paid me no heed, it was as though they were totally engrossed by their revelries. The fae, however, met my gaze and grinned in a way that chilled me to my core.
It was so disconcerting that I almost ran into a man about my age awkwardly dancing to Oasis with a neon-colored cocktail in his hand. He chuckled and slapped me on the back with his free hand.
“Sorry,” I muttered.
“No worries, mate,” he said, his speech slurred. “Hey, why don’t you grab yourself a drink? Let loose a bit!”
“What is this place?” I asked.
“What do you mean?” He said with a goofy smile. “It’s a party! Look around!” The “bar” in which I encountered the man looked suspiciously like it could have been a set in the Spice Girls movie. A fae woman with a Victoria Beckham bob filled a line of glasses with the same unappetizing drink mix. She winked at me.
“What year is it?”
The man looked at me like I was crazy.
“Did you hit your head or something? It’s 1998!” I noticed the man had a wedding band on. Barbara’s husband went missing in the forest twenty-five years ago. I grabbed his shoulders, taking the drink out of his hand and setting it on the bar counter. The fae bartender smirked.
“It’s not 1998. It’s 2023!” The man laughed, but I could see a sign of panic in his eyes.
“Nonsense. I’ve only been here an hour or so.”
“Is your wife’s name Barbara? From Druwich?”
His eyes widened. He stopped smiling.
“Wha…yes, yes. I just went for a stroll. Couldn’t have been more than an hour or so,” he repeated incredulously.
“That was twenty-five years ago,” I said slowly. The man blinked a couple times. His chest heaved as though his heart rate were rising precipitously. His eyes widened and his face contorted hideously. He opened his mouth to issue what should have been a scream, but instead he laughed, a wretched laugh, loud and painful, more akin to choking than an expression of joy.
The fae bartender put a drink back into his hand and whispered something in his ear. Barbara’s husband stopped laughing, but his face remained stricken with terror. Tears ran silently down his widened eyes.
I backed away from him and moved on, passing an Elizabethan man reciting poetry to a bored looking fae woman in a farthingale, pausing every few lines to drink a hearty draught of wine. A group of Victorian men boxed while others cheered, all laughing in that same frantic, frenzied way. The male fae taking their bets nodded at me. His thralls distracted, he grabbed one of their bowler hats, and flourished it at me with an obsequious bow.
“Welcome, welcome,” he said. I opened my mouth to speak but he raised a finger to his lips.
“You must proceed,” he said, hardly able to stifle his laughter. “The best part is yet to come.”
Another massive, intricately carved wooden door appeared before me and opened to another room, this time a dark earthen chamber with low ceilings, only illuminated by the same sort of pale torches I had seen before. Every few feet, a small path deviated into even smaller chambers, from which emanated sounds of low moaning. I decided, perhaps against my better judgment, to investigate.
Inside one of the rooms, a man lay on the ground, surrounded by oil lamps. A fae man bent over him. With a small, sharp knife, the fae was removing the skin from the man’s hand, as precisely as removing the rind from an orange. The man moaned with a terrible smile on his face, his eyes glassy. They rolled around his head listlessly and the memory of the flayed man on the road thrust itself into my brain. What the fuck. I took a step backwards. The fae looked up at me and waved with a bloody hand.
I staggered and ran back to the main chamber, stumbling into the wall, which to my great astonishment, began to cough. I stood and examined what I had bumped into. It was a great mass of vine growing out of the dirt wall, blood red with leaves of green and purple. But this was no ordinary plant growth. For one, it had shoes, dusty leather things that once had likely been quite fine. The vines wrapped around a part of rotting legs, little more than bones. They snaked their way through a rib cage adorned with scraps of flesh and fabric. Skeletal arms were spread out at its sides, buds bloomed at the fingertips.
The source of the cough was the head. I could recognize that it was the face of a man, though the skin was sallow and studded with plant growth. The man’s eyes had been plucked out, replaced by the leaves of the vine. His only discerning features were his voluminous mustache and a grinning mouth, still full of teeth.
“Hello, William,” it rasped. “Don’t you recognize your old great-grandad, Richard?”
x
[Part 5]
[Part 6]

First of all, hi! Just joined this community. I can't believe I hadn't looked it up before.
Secondly, I'd like to clarify this is not a homework question. I saw the flair and considered using it but I am not really studying anything at the moment so... yeah.
Lastly, there is a possibility this may be a very simple question to answer. It may be in the text. I tried to look it up but failed and I admittedly haven't read the entirety of Romeo and Juliet in many years, only like, selected scenes and analyses of them. Also, I am not sure I ever read the whole thing it in English. And any comment that I may make regarding history and religion may be completely wrong and based on so many misconceptions. Apologies for that. Feel free to correct those.
Anyway, sorry. Let's get to the question.
So, Friar Laurence kind of agrees to support Romeo and Juliet's relationship with the hope their love will reconcile their families, right? He even officiates their Secret Wedding. Cool. Then there's the whole mess with Tybalt, Romeo is gone and Juliet is going to get married of to Paris which makes her very unhappy. She goes to Friar Laurence and flat out says that if she is forced to go through with the wedding, she's going to kill herself. Both Friar Laurence and me are like yikes. And the Friar tells her to hold her horses because he has a Super Plan that Will Most Definitely Not Fail Catastrophically.
And here's the thing. The play takes place in Italy and something about it being Italy and also it being Italy that was at most contemprary to Shakespeare, though probably even before that... I doubt there was a separation of church and state, right? I am guessing that a frair can actually officiate a wedding, otherwise I feel it would have been mentioned? Or maybe they can't and it isn't mentioned because Shakespeare did not know that? No Google in Elizabethan England, though it may have been common knowledge at that time. Also, did the Catholic Church at that time require the presence of witnesses (other than, y'know, God and the clergyman guiding the ceremony) for a marriage to be considered valid? I just get the feeling if that was meant to be part of the conflict, it would be explicitly mentioned. Also, I feel if that were part of the conflict, it would lower the stakes for Juliet, from "I made a vow to my beloved before God that I'd be faithful 'til death do us parth' and all so if I go through with this I would be lying to everybody, betraying my oath and my love and damning my soul" to "I can't be with my beloved and also I technically had pre-marital sex" All of this to say: the marriage is probably not meant to be invalid, so no grounds for an annullment.
So why doesn't Friar Laurence tell the truth to Lord Capulet and Montague and such and instead device a Clever Plan? Especially when his initial intention was, supposedly, to reconcile the families? How was that going to happen if he didn't tell them, eventually?
There are possibilities, of course. Maybe he thinks Romeo killing Tybalt made reconciliation impossible. Maybe he is scared of retaliation, against the couple or even against himself. Maybe the original plan was to tell them and he thought it would work, but then Romeo got into avenging which made it so it wouldn't work and that made him scared of retaliation. So instead he opted for the convoluted plan that got lots of people killed.
I just really would like to hear people's opinions on this. If you have essay recommendations and such, that is also very welcome. And if the general consensus does turn out: Friar Laurence is a coward and/or stupid, that is totally fine by me. I know he is heavily criticized, just want to know if he has been heavily criticized for not having the guts to actually help solve the situation by risking himself rather than try (and fail) to skirt around it. And if he has, I'd like to read people's opinions on how that affects the theme/point of the play.
Thank you!
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ETA: I realized I worded this badly and it appears as I'm criticizing the ending because "it could have been avoided". Haha, yeah, no, I get that the fact it could have been avoided adds to the tragedy of it all. I was just wondering how this affects people's perception of the character or the impact of the play (if at all)

Johnson, Samuel, London, an adaptation of Juvenal, Third Satire.
Junius, Letters.
Kubrick, Stanley, Dr. Strangelove.
Mencken, HL, Libido for the Ugly.
Morris, Chris, Brass Eye.
———, The Day Today.
Orwell, George, Nineteen Eighty-Four.
Orwell, George, Animal Farm.
Palahniuk, Chuck, Fight Club.
Swift, Jonathan, A Modest Proposal.
Voltaire, Candide.
Zamyatin, Yevgeny, We.
Menippean
See Menippean satire.
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Satire versus teasing
In the history of theatre there has always been a conflict between engagement and disengagement on politics and relevant issue, between satire and grotesque on one side, and jest with teasing on the other.[37] Max Eastman defined the spectrum of satire in terms of "degrees of biting", as ranging from satire proper at the hot-end, and "kidding" at the violet-end; Eastman adopted the term kidding to denote what is just satirical in form, but is not really firing at the target.[38] Nobel laureate satirical playwright Dario Fo pointed out the difference between satire and teasing (sfottò).[39] Teasing is the reactionary side of the comic; it limits itself to a shallow parody of physical appearance. The side-effect of teasing is that it humanizes and draws sympathy for the powerful individual towards which it is directed. Satire instead uses the comic to go against power and its oppressions, has a subversive character, and a moral dimension which draws judgement against its targets.[40][41][42][43] Fo formulated an operational criterion to tell real satire from sfottò, saying that real satire arouses an outraged and violent reaction, and that the more they try to stop you, the better is the job you are doing.[44] Fo contends that, historically, people in positions of power have welcomed and encouraged good-humoured buffoonery, while modern day people in positions of power have tried to censor, ostracize and repress satire.[37][40]
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Teasing (sfottò) is an ancient form of simple buffoonery, a form of comedy without satire's subversive edge. Teasing includes light and affectionate parody, good-humoured mockery, simple one-dimensional poking fun, and benign spoofs. Teasing typically consists of an impersonation of someone monkeying around with his exterior attributes, tics, physical blemishes, voice and mannerisms, quirks, way of dressing and walking, and/or the phrases he typically repeats. By contrast, teasing never touches on the core issue, never makes a serious criticism judging the target with irony; it never harms the target's conduct, ideology and position of power; it never undermines the perception of his morality and cultural dimension.[40][42] Sfottò directed towards a powerful individual makes him appear more human and draws sympathy towards him.[45] Hermann Göring propagated jests and jokes against himself, with the aim of humanizing his image.[46][47]
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Classifications by topics
Types of satire can also be classified according to the topics it deals with. From the earliest times, at least since the plays of Aristophanes, the primary topics of literary satire have been politics, religion and sex.[48][49][50][51] This is partly because these are the most pressing problems that affect anybody living in a society, and partly because these topics are usually taboo.[48][52] Among these, politics in the broader sense is considered the pre-eminent topic of satire.[52] Satire which targets the clergy is a type of political satire, while religious satire is that which targets religious beliefs.[53] Satire on sex may overlap with blue comedy, off-color humor and dick jokes.
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Scatology has a long literary association with satire,[48][54][55] as it is a classical mode of the grotesque, the grotesque body and the satiric grotesque.[48][56] Shit plays a fundamental role in satire because it symbolizes death, the turd being "the ultimate dead object".[54][55] The satirical comparison of individuals or institutions with human excrement, exposes their "inherent inertness, corruption and dead-likeness".[54][57][58] The ritual clowns of clown societies, like among the Pueblo Indians, have ceremonies with filth-eating.[59][60] In other cultures, sin-eating is an apotropaic rite in which the sin-eater (also called filth-eater),[61][62] by ingesting the food provided, takes "upon himself the sins of the departed".[63] Satire about death overlaps with black humor and gallows humor.
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Another classification by topics is the distinction between political satire, religious satire and satire of manners.[64] Political satire is sometimes called topical satire, satire of manners is sometimes called satire of everyday life, and religious satire is sometimes called philosophical satire. Comedy of manners, sometimes also called satire of manners, criticizes mode of life of common people; political satire aims at behavior, manners of politicians, and vices of political systems. Historically, comedy of manners, which first appeared in British theater in 1620, has uncritically accepted the social code of the upper classes.[65] Comedy in general accepts the rules of the social game, while satire subverts them.[66]
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Another analysis of satire is the spectrum of his possible tones: wit, ridicule, irony, sarcasm, cynicism, the sardonic and invective.[67][68]
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The type of humour that deals with creating laughter at the expense of the person telling the joke is called reflexive humour[69].Reflexive humour can take place at dual levels of directing humour at self or at the larger community the self identifies with. The audience's understanding of the context of reflexive humour is important for its receptivity and success [69]. Satire is found not only in written literary forms. In preliterate cultures it manifests itself in ritual and folk forms, as well as in trickster tales and oral poetry.[23]
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It appears also in graphic arts, music, sculpture, dance, cartoon strips, and graffiti. Examples are Dada sculptures, Pop Art works, music of Gilbert and Sullivan and Erik Satie, punk and rock music.[23] In modern media culture, stand-up comedy is an enclave in which satire can be introduced into mass media, challenging mainstream discourse.[23] Comedy roasts, mock festivals, and stand-up comedians in nightclubs and concerts are the modern forms of ancient satiric rituals.[23]
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Development
Ancient Egypt
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The satirical papyrus at the British Museum
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Satirical ostracon showing a cat guarding geese, c.1120 BC, Egypt.
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Figured ostracon showing a cat waiting on a mouse, Egypt
One of the earliest examples of what we might call satire, The Satire of the Trades,[70] is in Egyptian writing from the beginning of the 2nd millennium BC. The text's apparent readers are students, tired of studying. It argues that their lot as scribes is not only useful, but far superior to that of the ordinary man. Scholars such as Helck[71] think that the context was meant to be serious.
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The Papyrus Anastasi I[72] (late 2nd millennium BC) contains a satirical letter which first praises the virtues of its recipient, but then mocks the reader's meagre knowledge and achievements.
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Ancient Greece
The Greeks had no word for what later would be called "satire", although the terms cynicism and parody were used. Modern critics call the Greek playwright Aristophanes one of the best known early satirists: his plays are known for their critical political and societal commentary,[73] particularly for the political satire by which he criticized the powerful Cleon (as in The Knights). He is also notable for the persecution he underwent.[73][74][75][76] Aristophanes' plays turned upon images of filth and disease.[77] His bawdy style was adopted by Greek dramatist-comedian Menander. His early play Drunkenness contains an attack on the politician Callimedon.
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The oldest form of satire still in use is the Menippean satire by Menippus of Gadara. His own writings are lost. Examples from his admirers and imitators mix seriousness and mockery in dialogues and present parodies before a background of diatribe. As in the case of Aristophanes plays, menippean satire turned upon images of filth and disease.[77]
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Roman world
The first Roman to discuss satire critically was Quintilian, who invented the term to describe the writings of Gaius Lucilius. The two most prominent and influential ancient Roman satirists are Horace and Juvenal, who wrote during the early days of the Roman Empire. Other important satirists in ancient Latin are Gaius Lucilius and Persius. Satire in their work is much wider than in the modern sense of the word, including fantastic and highly coloured humorous writing with little or no real mocking intent. When Horace criticized Augustus, he used veiled ironic terms. In contrast, Pliny reports that the 6th-century-BC poet Hipponax wrote satirae that were so cruel that the offended hanged themselves.[78]
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In the 2nd century AD, Lucian wrote True History, a book satirizing the clearly unrealistic travelogues/adventures written by Ctesias, Iambulus, and Homer. He states that he was surprised they expected people to believe their lies, and stating that he, like them, has no actual knowledge or experience, but shall now tell lies as if he did. He goes on to describe a far more obviously extreme and unrealistic tale, involving interplanetary exploration, war among alien life forms, and life inside a 200 mile long whale back in the terrestrial ocean, all intended to make obvious the fallacies of books like Indica and The Odyssey.
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Medieval Islamic world
Main articles: Arabic satire and Persian satire
Medieval Arabic poetry included the satiric genre hija. Satire was introduced into Arabic prose literature by the author Al-Jahiz in the 9th century. While dealing with serious topics in what are now known as anthropology, sociology and psychology, he introduced a satirical approach, "based on the premise that, however serious the subject under review, it could be made more interesting and thus achieve greater effect, if only one leavened the lump of solemnity by the insertion of a few amusing anecdotes or by the throwing out of some witty or paradoxical observations. He was well aware that, in treating of new themes in his prose works, he would have to employ a vocabulary of a nature more familiar in hija, satirical poetry."[79] For example, in one of his zoological works, he satirized the preference for longer human penis size, writing: "If the length of the penis were a sign of honor, then the mule would belong to the (honorable tribe of) Quraysh". Another satirical story based on this preference was an Arabian Nights tale called "Ali with the Large Member".[80]
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In the 10th century, the writer Tha'alibi recorded satirical poetry written by the Arabic poets As-Salami and Abu Dulaf, with As-Salami praising Abu Dulaf's wide breadth of knowledge and then mocking his ability in all these subjects, and with Abu Dulaf responding back and satirizing As-Salami in return.[81] An example of Arabic political satire included another 10th-century poet Jarir satirizing Farazdaq as "a transgressor of the Sharia" and later Arabic poets in turn using the term "Farazdaq-like" as a form of political satire.[82]
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The terms "comedy" and "satire" became synonymous after Aristotle's Poetics was translated into Arabic in the medieval Islamic world, where it was elaborated upon by Islamic philosophers and writers, such as Abu Bischr, his pupil Al-Farabi, Avicenna, and Averroes. Due to cultural differences, they disassociated comedy from Greek dramatic representation and instead identified it with Arabic poetic themes and forms, such as hija (satirical poetry). They viewed comedy as simply the "art of reprehension", and made no reference to light and cheerful events, or troubled beginnings and happy endings, associated with classical Greek comedy. After the Latin translations of the 12th century, the term "comedy" thus gained a new semantic meaning in Medieval literature.[83]
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Ubayd Zakani introduced satire in Persian literature during the 14th century. His work is noted for its satire and obscene verses, often political or bawdy, and often cited in debates involving homosexual practices. He wrote the Resaleh-ye Delgosha, as well as Akhlaq al-Ashraf ("Ethics of the Aristocracy") and the famous humorous fable Masnavi Mush-O-Gorbeh (Mouse and Cat), which was a political satire. His non-satirical serious classical verses have also been regarded as very well written, in league with the other great works of Persian literature. Between 1905 and 1911, Bibi Khatoon Astarabadi and other Iranian writers wrote notable satires.
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Medieval Europe
In the Early Middle Ages, examples of satire were the songs by Goliards or vagants now best known as an anthology called Carmina Burana and made famous as texts of a composition by the 20th-century composer Carl Orff. Satirical poetry is believed to have been popular, although little has survived. With the advent of the High Middle Ages and the birth of modern vernacular literature in the 12th century, it began to be used again, most notably by Chaucer. The disrespectful manner was considered "unchristian" and ignored, except for the moral satire, which mocked misbehaviour in Christian terms. Examples are Livre des Manières by Étienne de Fougères [fr] (~1178), and some of Chaucer's Canterbury Tales. Sometimes epic poetry (epos) was mocked, and even feudal society, but there was hardly a general interest in the genre.
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Early modern western satire
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Pieter Bruegel's 1568 satirical painting The Blind Leading the Blind.
Direct social commentary via satire returned with a vengeance in the 16th century, when farcical texts such as the works of François Rabelais tackled more serious issues (and incurred the wrath of the crown as a result).
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Two major satirists of Europe in the Renaissance were Giovanni Boccaccio and François Rabelais. Other examples of Renaissance satire include Till Eulenspiegel, Reynard the Fox, Sebastian Brant's Narrenschiff (1494), Erasmus's Moriae Encomium (1509), Thomas More's Utopia (1516), and Carajicomedia (1519).
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The Elizabethan (i.e. 16th-century English) writers thought of satire as related to the notoriously rude, coarse and sharp satyr play. Elizabethan "satire" (typically in pamphlet form) therefore contains more straightforward abuse than subtle irony. The French Huguenot Isaac Casaubon pointed out in 1605 that satire in the Roman fashion was something altogether more civilised. Casaubon discovered and published Quintilian's writing and presented the original meaning of the term (satira, not satyr), and the sense of wittiness (reflecting the "dishfull of fruits") became more important again. Seventeenth-century English satire once again aimed at the "amendment of vices" (Dryden).
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In the 1590s a new wave of verse satire broke with the publication of Hall's Virgidemiarum, six books of verse satires targeting everything from literary fads to corrupt noblemen. Although Donne had already circulated satires in manuscript, Hall's was the first real attempt in English at verse satire on the Juvenalian model.[84][page needed] The success of his work combined with a national mood of disillusion in the last years of Elizabeth's reign triggered an avalanche of satire—much of it less conscious of classical models than Hall's — until the fashion was brought to an abrupt stop by censorship.[note 1]
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Ancient and modern India
Satire (Kataksh or Vyang) has played a prominent role in Indian and Hindi literature, and is counted as one of the "ras" of literature in ancient books.[86] With the commencement of printing of books in local language in the nineteenth century and especially after India's freedom, this grew.[87] Many of the works of Tulsi Das, Kabir, Munshi Premchand,[88][89] village ministrels, Hari katha singers, poets, Dalit singers and current day stand up Indian comedians incorporate satire, usually ridiculing authoritarians, fundamentalists and incompetent people in power.[90][91][92] In India, it has usually been used as a means of expression and an outlet for common people to express their anger against authoritarian entities.[93] A popular custom in Northern India of "Bura na mano Holi hai" continues, in which comedians on the stage roast local people of importance (who are usually brought in as special guests).[94][95][96]
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Age of Enlightenment
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'A Welch wedding' Satirical Cartoon c.1780
The Age of Enlightenment, an intellectual movement in the 17th and 18th centuries advocating rationality, produced a great revival of satire in Britain. This was fuelled by the rise of partisan politics, with the formalisation of the Tory and Whig parties—and also, in 1714, by the formation of the Scriblerus Club, which included Alexander Pope, Jonathan Swift, John Gay, John Arbuthnot, Robert Harley, Thomas Parnell, and Henry St John, 1st Viscount Bolingbroke. This club included several of the notable satirists of early-18th-century Britain. They focused their attention on Martinus Scriblerus, "an invented learned fool... whose work they attributed all that was tedious, narrow-minded, and pedantic in contemporary scholarship".[97] In their hands astute and biting satire of institutions and individuals became a popular weapon. The turn to the 18th century was characterized by a switch from Horatian, soft, pseudo-satire, to biting "juvenal" satire.[98]
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Jonathan Swift was one of the greatest of Anglo-Irish satirists, and one of the first to practise modern journalistic satire. For instance, In his A Modest Proposal Swift suggests that Irish peasants be encouraged to sell their own children as food for the rich, as a solution to the "problem" of poverty. His purpose is of course to attack indifference to the plight of the desperately poor. In his book Gulliver's Travels he writes about the flaws in human society in general and English society in particular. John Dryden wrote an influential essay entitled "A Discourse Concerning the Original and Progress of Satire"[99] that helped fix the definition of satire in the literary world. His satirical Mac Flecknoe was written in response to a rivalry with Thomas Shadwell and eventually inspired Alexander Pope to write his satirical The Rape of the Lock. Other satirical works by Pope include the Epistle to Dr Arbuthnot.
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Alexander Pope (b. May 21, 1688) was a satirist known for his Horatian satirist style and translation of the Iliad. Famous throughout and after the long 18th century, Pope died in 1744.[100] Pope, in his The Rape of the Lock, is delicately chiding society in a sly but polished voice by holding up a mirror to the follies and vanities of the upper class. Pope does not actively attack the self-important pomp of the British aristocracy, but rather presents it in such a way that gives the reader a new perspective from which to easily view the actions in the story as foolish and ridiculous. A mockery of the upper class, more delicate and lyrical than brutal, Pope nonetheless is able to effectively illuminate the moral degradation of society to the public. The Rape of the Lock assimilates the masterful qualities of a heroic epic, such as the Iliad, which Pope was translating at the time of writing The Rape of the Lock. However, Pope applied these qualities satirically to a seemingly petty egotistical elitist quarrel to prove his point wryly.[101]

Opening Letter:
Dear Hannah, I bet you’d never guess where I’m off to next! My friend Savannah Woodham has asked for help on a paranormal investigation at Fort Raleigh on Roanoke Island, the site of one of the first English colonies in North America. Legend has it, all of the colonists disappeared under mysterious circumstances and were never seen or heard from again. Now Savannah says workers and tourists alike are seeing all sorts of ghosts and ghouls out at Fort Raleigh, and she is eager to get it all on tape. Have the recent archeological digs unearthed some ancient spirits? Could it be whatever drove the colonists away in the first place? I’m off to investigate one of the oldest mysteries in North America, Wish me luck! Love, Nancy
FIRST Chapter: Nancy hears a quiet conversation in a unknown language on the EVP
SECOND Chapter: Nancy decides to get some dinner at the Lost Colony Tavern
THIRD Chapter: Ryan saw a disgruntled old man in camo gear with a pair of binoculars glaring at her
FOURTH Chapter: Nancy decides to give her besties, Bess and George, a call
FIFTH Chapter: Nancy got hit in the head with a flashlight and was temporarily knocked out
SIXTH Chapter: Nancy sees the figure of a woman carrying what looks like a portrait, drift across the water
SEVENTH Chapter: Nancy delicately assembles a pottery bowl
EIGHTH Chapter: Nancy decides to keep Kit close and help him
NINTH Chapter: Nancy decides to dig at the Elizabethan Gardens for a dignified dig
TENTH Chapter: Nancy unearths a plaster casque from the ground, solving a 40 year old treasure hunt
Dear Hannah:
What a crazy few days here at Fort Raleigh! I helped Savannah Woodham on her paranormal investigation as we looked for the spirits of the lost English colonists, and we saw some pretty spooky stuff like the white doe of Virginia Dare and the ghost of Theodosia Burr drift across the water that we couldn’t explain, and found a lot of the hauntings scaring the workers was nothing but plain old humans. I solved a 40 year old treasure hunt called The Secret by digging by some gates by the Elizabethan Gardens, and since Kit was incarcerated for outstanding warrants, I got to claim the jewel alone. Let that be a lesson, crime never pays. As for the lost colonists? It seems they were never really lost to history at all,we may never know their ultimate fate, but their stories live on in Roanoke and beyond. I’m starting to need a vacation after all this, I think I’m going to take my friend Poppy up on her wedding invitation this spring. Till next time, Love, Nancy

Welcome back and, for those who celebrate, Merry Christmas! I'm about to go to my sister's house, where I will impersonate Fosco, by which I mean my nieces will probably make their pet mouse crawl all over me, and I plan to eat pastries until the waistband of my pants bursts.

• Marginalia
• Schedule

This week we're reading the rest of the first epoch, and the first three chapters of the second. Please use spoiler tags for anything beyond that, as well as for any spoilers for other books.
This week we're hearing from Marian. Something a bit different: our new narrative is in the form of a diary! (The editor informs us that only the parts relevant to the story have been included.)
Laura has finally decided to do something about this terrible situation: she's going to tell Sir Percival that she's in love with someone else, someone she can never be with, and let him decide if he wants to go through with the marriage anyway, or if the engagement will be called off and Laura will never marry anyone. Look, I have to be honest: I don't really understand Victorian propriety, especially concerning marriage. (I'm sorry if I gave anyone false information last week. u/nopantstime found some info that suggests women as well as men could be sued for breaking engagements.) I can't imagine having to ask someone for permission to swear a vow of celibacy instead of marrying them. This whole thing is weird to me.
But Laura is determined. Marian is shocked: Laura has never been determined about anything before. The protégée of Mrs. Vesey has actually decided to do something... and it's this. This is the hill she's decided to die on. Okay, then.
Anyhow, I don't think anyone is surprised that Sir Percival is a scumbag who claims that this confession only makes him love Laura more, and that he's going to marry her and earn her love.
Marian gets a letter from Walter. He doesn't sound so good: He's convinced that strange men are following him everywhere, and he begs Marian to use her mother's connections to find him work abroad, so he can get away. He swears he overheard one of his stalkers mention Anne Catherick. Marian manages to find a position for him as a draughtsman in an expedition to excavate ruins in Honduras. Walter will be in Central America for the next six to eighteen months.
Marian and Laura go to Yorkshire to visit their friends, the Arnolds, but are called home almost immediately because Sir Percival and Mr. Fairlie have arranged the wedding date for the 22nd of December. It's settled. Laura doesn't even want to fight it anymore.
Sir Percival's house is being renovated, so he proposes a six-month honeymoon to Italy. Laura is happy until she realizes that Marian won't be coming with them. Marian has to disillusion her with the terrible, frustrating truth: they must try to stay on Sir Percival's good side now, because he has the power to separate them forever. Marian will be living with them after the honeymoon only because Sir Percival has chosen to allow it. Laura and Marian are women, at the mercy of a man.
In a desperate attempt to accept what's happening, Marian tries to convince herself that Sir Percival really isn't that bad. She recognizes that he's handsome. ("though some strange perversity prevents me from seeing it myself": shoutout to u/escherwallace! I know exactly what you're thinking, and I'm thinking it too! Marian is one of us!) And he seems to care so deeply about Anne Catherick. Even this close to his wedding, he's actively trying to find her. Surely that shows that he's a good person? Marian manages to maintain this delusion for a full two days before giving up. (Not impressed: If I could convince myself I was straight for 21 years, then Marian should be able to convince herself that Sir Percival isn't an asshole for more than two days. Marian needs more practice lying to herself.)
But regardless of Marian's opinion of Sir Percival, she is powerless to stop the wedding. We reach December 22nd. They are married. And so the First Epoch ends.
Six months later. Marian has just moved to Sir Percival's creepy Gothic mansion, Blackwater Park. Laura and Sir Percival will be arriving later, along with Sir Percival's friends, the Count and Countess Fosco. Yes, that name does sound familiar: It's Laura's estranged aunt and her husband. Apparently Sir Percival and Count Fosco are BFFs. Marian can't tell much from the letters she's received from Laura. Laura writes as if she were on vacation with a friend, instead of on a honeymoon with her husband.
Meanwhile, Marian tours the house and the surrounding grounds. The house has dusty, dirty old wings that were built in the Elizabethan and Georgian eras and seem to have been locked up since then. The park is literally a swamp. Blackwater Lake is half-empty and stagnant, with a rotting, overturned rowboat sticking out of it. The whole description is beautifully disgusting; I swear I can smell the place.
Marian stops by the shack that used to be the boathouse, where she hears whimpering, and realizes that a spaniel is hiding under a bench, dying of a bullet wound. (I'm sorry if anyone found this scene upsetting. I specifically mentioned it in the trigger warning on the schedule because I know a lot of people have trouble with this sort of thing.) She carries it back to the house and tries to get help from the world's creepiest servant. After the servant repeatedly giggles over the dying dog and jokes about how the groundskeeper enjoys killing animals, Marian demands to speak to her manager. The housekeeper comes to assist Marian, and the servant presumably slinks back to whatever Stephen King novel she'd crawled out of.
The bad news is that the dog dies. The interesting news is that we learn whose dog it was: Mrs. Catherick's. Apparently Mrs. Catherick traveled here from Welmingham the day before to find out if there had been any news of Anne, because there have been rumors of a woman in white being sighted in the area. She left after a strange man who was also looking for Sir Percival showed up, and she asked the housekeeper to not tell Sir Percival about her visit.
Laura and Sir Percival arrive. Marian is thrilled to be reunited with Laura, but can't shake the feeling that there's something off about Laura. Something clearly happened during the honeymoon, but Laura, who never used to have any secrets from Marian, refuses to talk about it. Of course, Marian has a secret, too: Laura tries to ask about Walter, but Marian won't tell her anything.
Marian gets to know Sir Percival a little better, and discovers that he's neurotic. If anything is the slightest bit out of place, he has to fix it. If he goes out for a walk, he compulsively makes a new walking stick.
But enough about Laura and Sir Percival. Remember in the first section of this book, how we were introduced to weird character after weird character? Pesca, Anne Catherick, Mr. Fairlie, even Marian was kind of weird at first. Don't you miss that? With all this depressing and mundane wedding stuff, you could almost forget that this is a Wilkie Collins novel. Forget no more. Count Fosco is here.
I've been told that there is at least one person reading these summaries who has not read the actual book. This means that I can't just summarize Count Fosco; I need to introduce him. And I'm going to approach it differently than Marian did: I'm going to save the worst for last.
Count Fosco is a friendly, cheerful, Italian man, about sixty years old. He's enormously obese and wears brightly-colored clothing and a brown wig. (Marian thinks he looks like Napoleon for some reason.) He's an animal lover, with a collection of birds and white mice (whom he calls his "little mousies"). His favorite hobbies seem to be stuffing his mouth with pastries, and singing opera while playing a concertina. Figaro qua, Figaro là, Figaro su, Figaro giù!
Fosco is "nervously sensitive," flinching at loud noises and wincing at the sight of animal cruelty. He's also a genius chemist, and has discovered a way to permanently preserve dead bodies. His background is mysterious: he befriended Sir Percival years ago, after saving him from a robbery, but has not been back to his native Italy in years. Marian wonders if he's a political exile.
Fosco knows how to make people like him. When he realizes that Laura likes flowers, he brings her flowers. When he realizes Marian craves respect, he talks to her the way he would talk to a man. Marian realizes that he's doing this to make her like him, but that doesn't make it any less effective. The only person who doesn't like him is Laura. Yes, that's right, Laura. The most insipid character in the whole book has somehow seen through Count Fosco. But she won't (or maybe can't) tell Marian why.
But we don't need to take Laura's word for it, because we can see at least one piece of evidence for ourselves that there's something nefarious about the Count. His wife, Madame Fosco, is a creepy Stepford Wife. Before she married Count Fosco, Madame Fosco was (according to Marian) a vain and silly woman. Fosco appears to have broken her. She doesn't speak unless spoken to, spends hours rolling cigarettes for him, and openly admits to having no opinions that Fosco doesn't tell her to have. The creepiest part of all of this is that, in front of Marian, Count Fosco appears to be a perfectly kind, loving husband. Whatever he's done to induce this level of Stockholm Syndrome has been done in private, and I really don't want to know the details.
Once we've recovered from processing the concept of Count Fosco, we return to the story: Mr. Merriman, Sir Percival's lawyer, shows up, and Marian eavesdrops on their conversation: something about making Laura sign something, something about Sir Percival having bills to pay. Oh shit.
Marian tells Laura, who doesn't seem surprised. Apparently that guy who had stopped by earlier and didn't leave his name was trying to get money from Sir Percival.
The next day, the five of them go for a walk to the lake. They stop to sit in the boathouse, and Fosco takes the mice out of their cage (he brought a cage of mice with him on the walk) and lets them crawl all over him, reminding Marian of a dead prisoner in a dungeon. (Merry Christmas, everyone!) Sir Percival makes a joke about how the lake looks like a murder scene, which leads into a ridiculous discussion about whether or not murderers can be wise. Laura claims that all wise men are good, Count Fosco and Sir Percival mock her for sounding like a child's moral lesson, and I really hate to agree with Fosco and Sir Percival about anything but... you know what, there's room for another discussion question. Tell me what you think, and please don't say "I await my husband to instruct me." (Dear God, Madame Fosco is so freaking creepy.)
At this point, Fosco loses a mouse. ("My Benjamin of mice!" Oh, sure, when Anne Catherick cites Scripture in a creepy letter it's "deranged," but when Fosco compares his pet rodent to the founder of a tribe of Israel it's normal.) While he's looking under a bench, he finds blood and freaks out. Marian is forced to come clean about the dead dog, and now Sir Percival knows about Mrs. Catherick's visit. (And don't worry, Fosco finds his mouse.) This also results in Marian having to tell Fosco and Laura about Anne Catherick. (And it also makes Marian realize that, despite how much Sir Percival confides in Count Fosco, he has never confided in him regarding Anne Catherick.)
When they get back to the house, Sir Percival is preparing to take a trip, presumably to visit Mrs. Catherick. But first he requests to speak to Laura... he needs her to sign something....

These are copied from a current active thread on Mumsnet
Ellyfinsmum · 15/11/2022 10:03
I've told the story on mumsnet before but to this day I've never actually told anyone in real life. It sounds so completely ridiculous. I was suffering from post natal depression and the time and I was not sure if was having some sort of distortion of reality but having checked some of the details I have come to the conclusion that this did somehow happen to me.
I left the house with my baby ds2 in the pram to collect ds1 from preschool. It felt unusually warm given it was February. I had to take my coat off after a few minutes and I remember thinking how odd, it actually feels like summer in the middle of February. As I was walking I remember seeing there was a different sign on the doctors surgery except instead of it being new it was quite old and shabby and I wondered why they would have replaced it with an old one. I didn't give it too much thought and carried on. A bit further down the road is a Co-op and I was going to pop in to get something on the way except when I got there it wasn't a Co-op, it was a pub. I was so confused, it had been a Co-op that morning, completely as usual so I was absolutely stumped at how it was now a pub. I looked in and it was a proper pub with a bar, people in it etc. I was just wtf about how thisCco-op had turned into a pub in the last 6 hours.
I carried on walking up the road to the preschool but as I got closer I realised I couldn't see the building. I started to panic a bit and started running towards where it should be. When I got there, it was literally just an empty bit of green field behind a fence. I just stood there staring at it thinking what the actual fuck is happening and where is it. And then it sort of dawned on me. I had not paid a huge amount of attention to this but when I'd been looking at the new pub there had been a blackboard sign outside it saying something about watching the 2004 some sort of football cup final and I realised that somehow I was in 2004. Looking around, I could see most things were the same but some things were slightly different, small things like a house was painted a different colour, a tree where there hadn't been one before, all the cars parked nearby looked a little older.
I was hyperventilating by this point thinking what on earth do I do? I'm supposed to be picking up ds1. If it’s 2004 he's not even born yet; I've not even met my husband yet and I'm stuck here with my baby wtf am I going to do?? I sort of slumped down next to the fence to catch my breath. I looked up as someone walked past and something about them made me feel like I was in the present day and I realised they were texting on an iPhone and thought well it can't be 2004 can it? I stood up and the preschool was right there, everything looked normal again so I just went in, collected my son and went back home.
As I said I was suffering from pnd and I was worried if I mentioned this incident to anyone I'd have looked completely mad so I never told anyone. It was a couple of years ago now. I asked at the doctors' surgery if they used to have a white sign with blue letters and they did. I looked into it and the Co-op did used to be a pub and I've found old photos of it and it looks identical to what I saw. I didn't even know it used to be a pub so I do now actually think I did have some sort of time slip and that I didn't imagine it. But I'm still not telling anyone in real life!!
Namechangedforthisonetoday · 15/11/2022 14:18
ellyfinsmum I completely believe you as the same has happened to me. I also thought I was going mad. It was 5/6 years ago and I was walking my dogs through fields behind my house. I decided to extend the walk and went a field further than I usually did. At the bottom of the field there are some woods with a small waterfall, the usual foliage, trees (obviously 😂) and the dogs were really enjoying the walk. I followed them to the edge of the woods and came to a 5 bar gate. Beyond the gate I could see a long track, a farmhouse and a van. I remember thinking "gosh I've lived here years and never realised there was another farm here" (we're very rural). I stood at the gate and got one of the strangest feelings I've ever had. I truly felt like I'd gone back in time. I can't explain it. All of a sudden the sun seemed to shine really bright, I looked at the van and realised it was one of those little old ones from the 30s. It was just a really bizarre feeling and I started to feel scared. I turned and walked back. A few months later I was with my DH and I told him I'd show him "the farm". We got to the gate. No driveway, just a paddock. No farmhouse, just the ruins of where something had been. I felt like I was going to throw up. I really believe something strange happened that day, what I do not know.
CinnamonSodaPop · 15/11/2022 16:40
Way back in the 80s, I was walking along the Derwent Walk. It is like a bridlepath with historical links to an old railway, goes over a lovely viaduct at one point, near Gibside Manor among other historial places. The surface was mainly large pebbles, suitable for walking or for modern bike tyres (although I always got punctures when riding there as a kid). One morning someone wearing old fashioned clothes rode past me on a Penny Farthing. As odd as that is, I didn't think much of it at the time. Since I have realised that Penny Farthing bikes had solid tyres and there is no way it could have been riding on such a pebbled uneven surface. A ghost or a flashback, timeslip, random historical reenactor from Beamish with special tyres? I'll never know but it is the only time I every saw a Penny Farthing!
Clovacloud · 16/11/2022 11:04
I'm a huge family history nerd, and I love reading old newspapers to see what my ancestors have been up to. And I think I came across a time slip story in a 1898 local newspaper.
There was a story about a local man, who had walked out into the lane in front of his house. Apparently he saw hundreds of people in the lane, and terrified he ran to the neighbours screaming about seeing all these people. They went out, just saw an empty lane, but he insisted they had been there. The neighbours by this point thought he had gone mad (which in fairness he might have done), and called the police. He told his story to the police who took him away to calm him down. And then there isn't any follow up story. Now 100 years later that lane is now a main road, and one of the most walked routes into town with an Aldi and a massive Sainsbury's on it. I wonder if he had a brief time slip?
If you like time slip stories, Google "Suffolk Timeslips" there have been quite a few there.
Squiff70 · 17/11/2022 03:50
Ellyfinsmum I absolutely believe you. I'm a huge skeptic, and to the best of my knowledge I haven't experienced anything like what you described. ...
A few weeks ago I was browsing MN and reading a thread similar to this. One person described how she'd been travelling with a companion on a very familiar route by car and both of them saw an old/ancient stone bridge covered in moss. Neither of them recognised the bridge and had never noticed it before. When travelling on that same stretch of road a short time later, the bridge wasn't there.
As a PP said, humans are very ignorant to assume we know all there is to know. Clearly we don't, and whatever the true explanations, there's good reason we don't know.
Your experience sounds utterly terrifying and bewildering. I've had a few very strange experiences which I can't explain but nothing on the level you've described here.
JestersTear · 18/11/2022 01:26
I'm not sure this is as spooky as some of the tales on here, but here's one of mine.
Hubby and I often drive from our home city to visit family in my old hometown. Almost always we travel home in the dark down A-roads through the countryside. We now know all the landmarks, farmhouses, etc, on the route as we've driven it so often over the last almost 20 years.
One evening, not too late, about 8pm, we were driving home as usual. The weather was ok, a little foggy but nothing too bad, and all of a sudden, out of the mist I see an Elizabethan manor house to the side of the road. It was quite large with fancy chimneys and dark beams, little windows etc. I was surprised as I'd never noticed it before and at that point, we'd been making the trip regularly over the course of a few years. After we'd passed by, and I could no longer see it, my husband asked 'Did you see that?' I asked him what and he replied, the manor house. I said yes! I've never noticed it before, he said the same and we pondered on it for the rest of the journey home.
The next time we went up, we kept an eye out for it in the daylight - nothing. Not even a building or anything where we saw it. We looked again on the way home in the dark, reasoning that it may well have been a trick of the light or something but again - nothing.
We have often looked for that manor house on our journeys up and down that road, and never again has it appeared. We still wonder about it now.
I have never felt at ease on that particular part of the route...
Source: https://www.mumsnet.com/talk/am_i_being_unreasonable/4677763-to-ask-if-anything-genuinely-unexplainable-and-spooky-has-happened-to-you?

I read this book between 1996 and 1999. I do not know if it was released in the 1990s
Details I can remember:
-main character is looking for a piece of information and was being chased through a city (I think New York) by a shadowy organisation / government. a big conspiracy
-time travel/visions of Elizabethan era (Sir Walter Raleigh is mentioned)
-a woman (Japanese?) is blind. she was a courtesan and has a giant fish tank (with an albino fish?) that either explodes or somehow. She has a tattoo on her back that has a moon and it is reflected on the lake.
-main character has sex in a motel(?)
​
I read for my childhood bookclub book. It was chosen because it was like A Wrinkle In Time / The Golden Compass. But had sex in it which caused *drama*. I asked my mother if she could remember the title. She doesn't but she remembers how angry the mothers were that we'd read this book with sex in it.
​
Books I know it isn't:
Anything by william gibson
King of Shadows
Anything YA

v Characters:
· Rosalind: The daughter of Duke Senior. Rosalind, considered one of Shakespeare’s most delightful heroines, is independent minded, strong-willed, good-hearted, and terribly clever. Rather than slink off into defeated exile, Rosalind resourcefully uses her trip to the Forest of Ardenne as an opportunity to take control of her own destiny. When she disguises herself as Ganymede—a handsome young man—and offers herself as a tutor in the ways of love to her beloved Orlando, Rosalind’s talents and charms are on full display. Only Rosalind, for instance, is both aware of the foolishness of romantic love and delighted to be in love. She teaches those around her to think, feel, and love better than they have previously, and she ensures that the courtiers returning from Ardenne are far gentler than those who fled to it. Rosalind dominates As You Like It. So fully realized is she in the complexity of her emotions, the subtlety of her thought, and the fullness of her character that no one else in the play matches up to her. Orlando is handsome, strong, and an affectionate, if unskilled, poet, yet still we feel that Rosalind settles for someone slightly less magnificent when she chooses him as her mate. Similarly, the observations of Touchstone and Jaques, who might shine more brightly in another play, seem rather dull whenever Rosalind takes the stage. The endless appeal of watching Rosalind has much to do with her success as a knowledgeable and charming critic of herself and others. But unlike Jaques, who refuses to participate wholly in life but has much to say about the foolishness of those who surround him, Rosalind gives herself over fully to circumstance. She chastises Silvius for his irrational devotion to Phoebe, and she challenges Orlando’s thoughtless equation of Rosalind with a Platonic ideal, but still she comes undone by her lover’s inconsequential tardiness and faints at the sight of his blood. That Rosalind can play both sides of any field makes her identifiable to nearly everyone, and so, irresistible. Rosalind is a particular favorite among feminist critics, who admire her ability to subvert the limitations that society imposes on her as a woman. With boldness and imagination, she disguises herself as a young man for the majority of the play in order to woo the man she loves and instruct him in how to be a more accomplished, attentive lover—a tutorship that would not be welcome from a woman. There is endless comic appeal in Rosalind’s lampooning of the conventions of both male and female behavior, but an Elizabethan audience might have felt a certain amount of anxiety regarding her behavior. After all, the structure of a male-dominated society depends upon both men and women acting in their assigned roles. Thus, in the end, Rosalind dispenses with the charade of her own character. Her emergence as an actor in the Epilogue assures that theatergoers, like the Ardenne foresters, are about to exit a somewhat enchanted realm and return to the familiar world they left behind. But because they leave having learned the same lessons from Rosalind, they do so with the same potential to make that world a less punishing place.
· Orlando: The youngest son of Sir Rowland de Bois and younger brother of Oliver. Orlando is an attractive young man who, under his brother’s neglectful care, has languished without a gentleman’s education or training. Regardless, he considers himself to have great potential, and his victorious battle with Charles proves him right. Orlando cares for the aging Adam in the Forest of Ardenne and later risks his life to save Oliver from a hungry lioness, proving himself a proper gentleman. He is a fitting hero for the play and, though he proves no match for her wit or poetry, the most obvious romantic match for Rosalind. According to his brother, Oliver, Orlando is of noble character, unschooled yet somehow learned, full of noble purposes, and loved by people of all ranks as if he had enchanted them. Although this description comes from the one character who hates Orlando and wishes him harm, it is an apt and generous picture of the hero of As You Like It. Orlando has a brave and generous spirit, though he does not possess Rosalind’s wit and insight. As his love tutorial shows, he relies on commonplace clichés in matters of love, declaring that without the fair Rosalind, he would die. He does have a decent wit, however, as he demonstrates when he argues with Jaques, suggesting that Jaques should seek out a fool who wanders about the forest: “He is drowned in the brook. Look but in, and you shall see him,” meaning that Jaques will see a fool in his own reflection. But next to Rosalind, Orlando’s imagination burns a bit less bright. This upstaging is no fault of Orlando’s, given the fullness of Rosalind’s character; Shakespeare clearly intends his audience to delight in the match. Time and again, Orlando performs tasks that reveal his nobility and demonstrate why he is so well-loved: he travels with the ancient Adam and makes a fool out of himself to secure the old man food; he risks his life to save the brother who has plotted against him; he cannot help but violate the many trees of Ardenne with testaments of his love for Rosalind. In the beginning of the play, he laments that his brother has denied him the schooling deserved by a gentleman, but by the end, he has proven himself a gentleman without the formality of that education.
· Duke Senior: The father of Rosalind and the rightful ruler of the dukedom in which the play is set. Having been banished by his usurping brother, Frederick, Duke Senior now lives in exile in the Forest of Ardenne with a number of loyal men, including Lord Amiens and Jaques. We have the sense that Senior did not put up much of a fight to keep his dukedom, for he seems to make the most of whatever life gives him. Content in the forest, where he claims to learn as much from stones and brooks as he would in a church or library, Duke Senior proves himself to be a kind and fair-minded ruler.
· Jaques: A faithful lord who accompanies Duke Senior into exile in the Forest of Ardenne. Jaques is an example of a stock figure in Elizabethan comedy, the man possessed of a hopelessly melancholy disposition. Much like a referee in a football game, he stands on the sidelines, watching and judging the actions of the other characters without ever fully participating. Given his inability to participate in life, it is fitting that Jaques alone refuses to follow Duke Senior and the other courtiers back to court, and instead resolves to assume a solitary and contemplative life in a monastery. Jaques delights in being sad—a disparate role in a play that so delights in happiness. Jaques believes that his melancholy makes him the perfect candidate to be Duke Senior’s fool. Such a position, he claims, will “Give me leave / To speak my mind,” and the criticism that flows forth will “Cleanse the foul body of th’infected world”. Duke Senior is rightly cautious about installing Jaques as the fool, fearing that Jaques would do little more than excoriate the sins that Jaques himself has committed. Indeed, Jaques lacks the keenness of insight of Shakespeare’s most accomplished jesters: he is not as penetrating as Twelfth Night’s Feste or King Lear’s fool. In fact, he is more like an aspiring fool than a professional one. When Jaques philosophizes on the seven stages of human life, for instance, his musings strike us as banal. His “All the world’s a stage” speech is famous today, but the play itself casts doubt on the ideas expressed in this speech. No sooner does Jaques insist that man spends the final stages of his life in “mere oblivion, / Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything” than Orlando’s aged servant, Adam, enters, bearing with him his loyalty, his incomparable service, and his undiminished integrity. Jaques’s own faculties as a critic of the goings-on around him are considerably diminished in comparison to Rosalind, who understands so much more and conveys her understanding with superior grace and charm. Rosalind criticizes in order to transform the world—to make Orlando a more reasonable husband and Phoebe a less disdainful lover—whereas Jaques is content to stew in his own melancholy. It is appropriate that Jaques decides not to return to court. While the other characters merrily revel, Jaques determines that he will follow the reformed Duke Frederick into the monastery, where he believes the converts have much to teach him. Jaques’s refusal to resume life in the dukedom not only confirms our impression of his character, but also resonates with larger issues in the play. Here, the play makes good on the promise of its title: everyone gets just what he or she wants. It also betrays a small but inevitable crack in the community that dances through the forest. In a world as complex and full of so many competing forces as the one portrayed in As You Like It, the absolute best one can hope for is consensus, but never complete unanimity.
· Celia: The daughter of Duke Frederick and Rosalind’s dearest friend. Celia’s devotion to Rosalind is unmatched, as evidenced by her decision to follow her cousin into exile. To make the trip, Celia assumes the disguise of a simple shepherdess and calls herself Aliena. As elucidated by her extreme love of Rosalind and her immediate devotion to Oliver, whom she marries at the end of the play, Celia possesses a loving heart, but is prone to deep, almost excessive emotions.
· Duke Frederick: The brother of Duke Senior and usurper of his throne. Duke Frederick’s cruel nature and volatile temper are displayed when he banishes his niece, Rosalind, from court without reason. That Celia, his own daughter, cannot mitigate his unfounded anger demonstrates the intensity of the duke’s hatefulness. Frederick mounts an army against his exiled brother but aborts his vengeful mission after he meets an old religious man on the road to the Forest of Ardenne. He immediately changes his ways, dedicating himself to a monastic life and returning the crown to his brother, thus testifying to the ease and elegance with which humans can sometimes change for the better.
· Touchstone: A clown in Duke Frederick’s court who accompanies Rosalind and Celia in their flight to Ardenne. Although Touchstone’s job, as fool, is to criticize the behavior and point out the folly of those around him, Touchstone fails to do so with even a fraction of Rosalind’s grace. Next to his mistress, the clown seems hopelessly vulgar and narrow-minded. Almost every line he speaks echoes with bawdy innuendo.
· Oliver: The oldest son of Sir Rowland de Bois and sole inheritor of the de Bois estate. Oliver is a loveless young man who begrudges his brother, Orlando, a gentleman’s education. He admits to hating Orlando without cause or reason and goes to great lengths to ensure his brother’s downfall. When Duke Frederick employs Oliver to find his missing brother, Oliver finds himself living in despair in the Forest of Ardenne, where Orlando saves his life. This display of undeserved generosity prompts Oliver to change himself into a better, more loving person. His transformation is evidenced by his love for the disguised Celia, whom he takes to be a simple shepherdess.
· Silvius: A young, suffering shepherd, who is desperately in love with the disdainful Phoebe. Conforming to the model of Petrarchan love, Silvius prostrates himself before a woman who refuses to return his affections. In the end, however, he wins the object of his desire.
· Phoebe: A young shepherdess, who disdains the affections of Silvius. She falls in love with Ganymede, who is really Rosalind in disguise, but Rosalind tricks Phoebe into marrying Silvius.
· Lord Amiens: A faithful lord who accompanies Duke Senior into exile in the Forest of Ardenne. Lord Amiens is rather jolly and loves to sing.
· Charles: A professional wrestler in Duke Frederick’s court. Charles demonstrates both his caring nature and his political savvy when he asks Oliver to intercede in his upcoming fight with Orlando: he does not want to injure the young man and thereby lose favor among the nobles who support him. Charles’s concern for Orlando proves unwarranted when Orlando beats him senseless.
· Adam: The elderly former servant of Sir Rowland de Bois. Having witnessed Orlando’s hardships, Adam offers not only to accompany his young master into exile but to fund their journey with the whole of his modest life’s savings. He is a model of loyalty and devoted service.
· Sir Rowland de Bois: The father of Oliver and Orlando, friend of Duke Senior, and enemy of Duke Frederick. Upon Sir Rowland’s death, the vast majority of his estate was handed over to Oliver according to the custom of primogeniture.
· Corin: A shepherd. Corin attempts to counsel his friend Silvius in the ways of love, but Silvius refuses to listen.
· Audrey: A simpleminded goatherd who agrees to marry Touchstone.
· William: A young country boy who is in love with Audrey.
v Themes:
· Deception, Disguise, and Gender: As You Like It is structured around acts of deception that complicate the play’s narrative and allow for events to unfold that otherwise might not. The primary tricksters of the play are Rosalind and Celia, who disguise themselves in order to go undetected into the Forest of Arden. Rosalind dresses as a man and goes by the name “Ganymede”; Celia pretends to be a shepherdess and calls herself “Aliena.” By constructing false appearances and presenting themselves dishonestly, Rosalind and Celia incidentally inspire their lovers to act more truly and honestly toward them. When Rosalind is dressed as Ganymede, Orlando reveals to her how deeply he loves Rosalind, without knowing that he is addressing her. Rosalind’s disguise thus permits Orlando to speak more openly and perhaps less intentionally than he might if he knew the true identity of his conversation partner. Celia’s attire does not alter her seeming identity as radically as Rosalind’s, but it, too, changes her lover’s initial conduct around her, by making her seem to be not of courtly upbringing. Whereas Rosalind’s disguise provokes honest speech from her lover, Celia’s tests the honesty of her lover’s love: the fact that Oliver falls in love with her despite her shepherdess’s exterior indicates how genuine his love is. When Rosalind and Celia act out roles, they alter not only the way they act, but also the way that other people act toward them. These instances of disguise and deception, along with serving as important plot points and providing great comic potential, thus represent the playacting and deception performed by every character in the play and, moreover, by every person in his or her life. They illustrate and exaggerate the extent to which “All the world’s a stage/ And every man and woman merely players.”
· Romantic Love: As You Like It mocks traditional dramatizations of love, inspiring folly, servitude, and sorrow in its victims. Orlando’s bad, omnipresent poetry; Silvius’s slavish commitment to Phebe, a plain and unloving shepherdess; and Rosalind’s, Oliver’s, and Phebe’s speechless and instantaneous infatuations (they all fall in love at first sight) are all exaggerated instances of the dramatized representations of love that the play is mocking. At the end of the play, Rosalind serves as a fair judge of love, assessing the relationships of each character in the play and rationally determining who shall marry whom. The final scene is a grand wedding, with vows said between four couples (Rosalind and Orlando; Celia and Oliver; Touchstone and Aubrey; and Silvius and Phebe). The play thus concludes by celebrating a more reasonable, sustainable form of love, demonstrated in four instances of its most potent and permanent manifestation.
· Country vs. City: All the characters, at some point in the play, leave the royal court for the Forest of Arden. This mass exodus results from various characters being forced into exile (Duke Senior, Orlando, Rosalind), and then various others voluntarily joining them (the Lords, Adam, Celia). The forest thus serves as the theater of the play. A space in which time and conduct are relaxed, it is a setting that allows for things to happen and people to act in ways that they wouldn’t within the bounds of mannered city life: royalty and shepherds comingle (Rosalind and Celia interact with Silvius, Phebe, and Corin; Touchstone marries Audrey), the former pose as the latter (Rosalind and Celia dress themselves as people of the forest), and Cupid’s presence is potent (romance is sparked, vows are said). To welcome the weddings at the end of the play, Duke Senior declares, “in this forest let us do those ends / That where were well begun and well begot.”
· Love and Rivalry Between Relatives: The play is structured around two pairs of siblings and one pair of cousins—Orlando and Oliver, Duke Senior and Duke Frederick, Celia and Rosalind. Each pair has a different dynamic, defined by varying degrees of familial love and desire for power. Whereas the relationships between Oliver and Orlando and between the two dukes are characterized by competition, envy, and power mongering, Celia and Rosalind maintain a relationship characterized by love and inseparability. By the end of the play, however, love and mutual understanding become defining features of all of these close family ties, even for the spiteful male siblings: Orlando looks past Oliver’s prior evil and saves his brother from a potentially fatal attack; returning his brother’s generosity, Oliver revokes his previous intent to kill Orlando and treats him as a true brother. Oliver and Orlando are then further united by their simultaneous marriage to the inseparable cousins, Rosalind and Celia. Even the malignant relationship between the dukes is resolved, as Duke Frederick, en route to fight his brother, encounters a religious man and is suddenly inspired to devote his life to a monastic existence. To fulfill his purpose and undo his past evil, he restores power to Duke Senior. In all of these relationships, conflict arises out of competition, jealousy, and a desire for unchallenged power. In all, these forces are shown to be ultimately less powerful than the force of love (for family, for God).
· Fools and Foolishness: There is a distinction developed throughout As You Like It between those who are fools and those who are foolish. Touchstone is the exemplary fool: he is witty and “poetical,” and his comments, though cloaked in clownish language, are wise and apt. He is, moreover, self-conscious about his own identity as a fool, and philosophizes on the very characterization, commenting “the more pity that fools may not speak wisely what wise men do foolishly,” and “The fool doth think he is wise, but the wise man knows himself to be a fool.” In the former, he reflects on the fool’s lack of authority; in the latter, he suggests that those who call themselves fools may well be wiser than those who call themselves wise. In both, he reveals himself to be more wise than foolish. Jaques, on the other hand, is an exemplar of foolishness. He is foolish enough to aspire to become a fool (and, moreover, is unsuccessful) and he does not have Touchstone’s wisdom or quickness of expression. While Touchstone is embraced by the court and admired by the Duke, Jaques is out of place throughout the play, and ultimately retreats with Duke Frederick into a monastic existence. There is also a sense in which foolishness is universal, especially in matters of romance: Orlando looks foolish when he is wildly posting his poems, and Rosalind and Oliver, too, when they fall instantaneously in love. Foolishness in these cases is simply the manifestation of an irrational state of extreme emotion.
v Motifs:
· Artifice: As Orlando runs through the forest decorating every tree with love poems for Rosalind, and as Silvius pines for Phoebe and compares her cruel eyes to a murderer, we cannot help but notice the importance of artifice to life in Ardenne. Phoebe decries such artificiality when she laments that her eyes lack the power to do the devoted shepherd any real harm, and Rosalind similarly puts a stop to Orlando’s romantic fussing when she reminds him that “[m]en have died from time to time, and worms have eaten them, but not for love”. Although Rosalind is susceptible to the contrivances of romantic love, as when her composure crumbles when Orlando is only minutes late for their appointment, she does her best to move herself and the others toward a more realistic understanding of love. Knowing that the excitement of the first days of courtship will flag, she warns Orlando that “[m]aids are May when they are maids, but the sky changes when they are wives”. Here, Rosalind cautions against any love that sustains itself on artifice alone. She advocates a love that, while delightful, can survive in the real world. During the Epilogue, Rosalind returns the audience to reality by stripping away not only the artifice of Ardenne, but of her character as well. As the Elizabethan actor stands on the stage and reflects on this temporary foray into the unreal, the audience’s experience comes to mirror the experience of the characters. The theater becomes Ardenne, the artful means of edifying us for our journey into the world in which we live.
· Homoeroticism: Like many of Shakespeare’s plays and poems, As You Like It explores different kinds of love between members of the same sex. Celia and Rosalind, for instance, are extremely close friends—almost sisters—and the profound intimacy of their relationship seems at times more intense than that of ordinary friends. Indeed, Celia’s words in Act I, scenes ii and iii echo the protestations of lovers. But to assume that Celia or Rosalind possesses a sexual identity as clearly defined as our modern understandings of heterosexual or homosexual would be to work against the play’s celebration of a range of intimacies and sexual possibilities. The other kind of homoeroticism within the play arises from Rosalind’s cross-dressing. Everybody, male and female, seems to love Ganymede, the beautiful boy who looks like a woman because he is really Rosalind in disguise. The name Rosalind chooses for her alter ego, Ganymede, traditionally belonged to a beautiful boy who became one of Jove’s lovers, and the name carries strong homosexual connotations. Even though Orlando is supposed to be in love with Rosalind, he seems to enjoy the idea of acting out his romance with the beautiful, young boy Ganymede—almost as if a boy who looks like the woman he loves is even more appealing than the woman herself. Phoebe, too, is more attracted to the feminine Ganymede than to the real male, Silvius. In drawing on the motif of homoeroticism, As You Like It is influenced by the pastoral tradition, which typically contains elements of same-sex love. In the Forest of Ardenne, as in pastoral literature, homoerotic relationships are not necessarily antithetical to heterosexual couplings, as modern readers tend to assume. Instead, homosexual and heterosexual love exist on a continuum across which, as the title of the play suggests, one can move as one likes.
· Exile: As You Like It abounds in banishment. Some characters have been forcibly removed or threatened from their homes, such as Duke Senior, Rosalind, and Orlando. Some have voluntarily abandoned their positions out of a sense of rightness, such as Senior’s loyal band of lords, Celia, and the noble servant Adam. It is, then, rather remarkable that the play ends with four marriages—a ceremony that unites individuals into couples and ushers these couples into the community. The community that sings and dances its way through Ardenne at the close of Act V, scene iv, is the same community that will return to the dukedom in order to rule and be ruled. This event, where the poor dance in the company of royalty, suggests a utopian world in which wrongs can be righted and hurts healed. The sense of restoration with which the play ends depends upon the formation of a community of exiles in politics and love coming together to soothe their various wounds.
v Symbols:
· Horns: A popular symbol for cuckoldry, supposedly grown on the heads of men whose wives have cheated on them, horns come up in conversation at various points in the play. Jaques, for instances, proposes that the lords put the horns of a deer they have slaughtered on the duke’s head, like “a branch of victory” and Touchstone later asserts that the only audience he will have for his wedding with Audrey will consist of “horn beasts,” and that “by so much is a horn more precious than to want.” In both instances, the symbolic mention of horns does not refer to an actual cuckold or cheating wife, but rather to cuckoldry in theory, and both come down positively on the hypothetical cuckold, though with a good deal of irony. Jaques posits horns as a source of victorious pride, and Touchstone suggests that it is preferable to be a cheated-on husband than a respected bachelor, better to be married and slighted than alone and unharmed.
· Ganymede: Ganymede, whose name Rosalind takes on as part of her disguise, was a divine Trojan hero, described in The Iliad by Homer as the most beautiful mortal in history. In one myth, Zeus abducts Ganymede in an act that has since been recognized as an act of sodomy. The name’s mythical association with homosexuality further complicates Rosalind’s gender identity.
· Orlando’s Poems: Orlando expresses his love for Rosalind in the form of poems placed all about the forest. They allow him to speak his emotions without addressing Rosalind in person. The ubiquity of their placement around the forest and the sentimentality of their language attest to how great Orlando’s feelings are; their poor quality indicates how much he needs the romantic education he ultimately receives from Rosalind in the guise of Ganymede.
v Protagonist: Rosalind.
v Antagonist: Duke Frederick is the wayward Duke who's the main source of trouble for our heroine. We know Duke Frederick is a bad guy as soon as we meet him—he's unseated his own brother for the dukedom, and seems unconcerned that Duke Senior now has to live in the forest like a vagabond. When Duke Frederick brings his wrath down on Rosalind, he acts much the same way Oliver de Boys (our other antagonist) does—his anger comes from a jealousy that has no basis in reason. Rosalind hasn't done him any wrong, but he'll victimize her anyway, accusing her of a potential for treachery though she's shown no signs of it. Still, there's an upside to all this inexplicable anger: If Duke Frederick hates Rosalind for what is really no good reason, then we're not surprised when he has the sudden turn-around required of villains in comedies. Oliver de Boys has the same problem as Duke Frederick: His brother is too nice. Rather than becoming nicer, he decides the answer is to get rid of his brother. This approach makes Oliver de Boys the main antagonist of our hero Orlando. Oliver even admits that he hates his brother for no reason, but, because of his power, no reason is reason enough to murder Orlando. Oliver might be like Duke Frederick in lashing out at a threat to his power, but there's another component to Oliver's hatred: He is simply jealous. Orlando, rather than reasoning with his brother, gets angry, which means Oliver never sees any of the goodness and kindness that Orlando is so well-loved for. It makes sense, then, that Oliver finally becomes a good person when he's persuaded by Orlando's kind act later in the play (protecting Oliver from a lioness). Again, villains in comedies can't really be bad, because that'd be too serious. Oliver's quick turn-around shows us that Oliver was just acting out of misunderstanding (a force that often drives Shakespeare's comedies).
v Setting: The play has two principal settings: the court that Frederick has usurped from his brother, the rightful duke (known as Duke Senior), and the Forest of Arden, where the Duke and his followers (including the disgruntled Jaques) are living in exile. Arden is the name of a forest located close to Shakespeare's home town of Stratford-upon-Avon, but Shakespeare probably had in mind the French Arden Wood, featured in Orlando Innamorato, especially since the two Orlando epics, Orlando Innamorato and Orlando Furioso, have other connections with the play. In the Orlando mythos, Arden Wood is the location of Merlin's Fountain, a magic fountain causing anyone who drinks from it to fall out of love. The Oxford Shakespeare edition rationalises the confusion between the two Ardens by assuming that "Arden" is an anglicisation of the forested Ardennes region of France, where Lodge set his tale, and alters the spelling to reflect this. Other editions keep Shakespeare's "Arden" spelling, since it can be argued that the pastoral mode depicts a fantastical world in which geographical details are irrelevant. The Arden edition of Shakespeare makes the suggestion that the name "Arden" comes from a combination of the classical region of Arcadia and the biblical garden of Eden, as there is a strong interplay of classical and Christian belief systems and philosophies within the play. Arden was also the maiden name of Shakespeare's mother and her family home is located within the Forest of Arden.
v Genre: As You Like It is a pastoral comedy by William Shakespeare believed to have been written in 1599 and first published in the First Folio in 1623. The play's first performance is uncertain, though a performance at Wilton House in 1603 has been suggested as a possibility. As You Like It follows its heroine Rosalind as she flees persecution in her uncle's court, accompanied by her cousin Celia to find safety and, eventually, love, in the Forest of Arden. In the forest, they encounter a variety of memorable characters, notably the melancholy traveller Jaques, who speaks many of Shakespeare's most famous speeches (such as "All the world's a stage", "too much of a good thing" and "A fool! A fool! I met a fool in the forest"). Jaques provides a sharp contrast to the other characters in the play, always observing and disputing the hardships of life in the country. Historically, critical response has varied, with some critics finding the play a work of great merit and some finding it to be of lesser quality than other Shakespearean works. The play has been adapted for radio, film, and musical theatre.
v Style: Prose and Verse. The rule of thumb when it comes to Shakespeare's plays is that the nobility (like Duke Senior) tend to speak in verse (poetry), which is a pretty formal way to talk. The commoners or, "Everyday Joes" (like Audrey), tend to speak just like we do, in regular old prose. As You Like It breaks some rules. Rosalind (who is obviously a noble) tends to speak a lot of prose, especially when she's talking about love. In fact, over half of As You Like It is written in prose and the rest is written in iambic pentameter verse. Here are some definitions and specific examples of prose and verse in As You Like It.
Iambic Pentameter Verse: Like we said, the noble characters mostly speak in unrhymed iambic pentameter (also called "blank verse"). Let's start with a definition of iambic pentameter: An "iamb" is an unaccented syllable followed by an accented one. "Penta" means "five" and "meter" refers to a regular rhythmic pattern. So "iambic pentameter" is a kind of rhythmic pattern that consist of five iambs per line. It's the most common rhythm in English poetry and sounds like five heartbeats:
da DUM, da DUM, da DUM, da DUM, da DUM
Check out the play's opening lines, where Orlando admits that Rosalind has made him tongue-tied:
what PAssion HANGS these WEIGHTS upON my TONGUE?
Every second syllable is accented (stressed) so this is classic iambic pentameter.
Prose: Like we said, ordinary folks don't talk in a special rhythm—they just talk. (This is especially true of country bumpkin types like Audrey.) Plus, in this play, some noble characters (like Rosalind and Celia) often speak both prose and verse. Here's an example of prose, where Rosalind and Celia talk privately about dreamy Orlando:
CELIA: Why cousin, why Rosalind—Cupid have mercy, not a word?
ROSALIND: Not one to throw at a dog.
Why doesn't Rosalind speak in verse when she chats about Orlando? Probably because our girl Ros is very sensible and wants to keep artifice, formality to a minimum when she's having a little girl-talk with Celia. Still, that doesn't mean Rosalind can't speak in verse also. When Duke Frederick interrupts Ros and Celia's girl-talk, the two switch from prose to verse, which is a more formal and respectful way for them to talk to the Duke, who is also Celia's dad.
v Point of View: Though all works of literature present the author’s point of view, they don’t all have a narrator or a narrative voice that ties together and presents the story. This particular piece of literature does not have a narrator through whose eyes or voice we learn the story.
v Tone: The tone of the play is lighthearted and carefree. The playgoer and reader sense that the discord between several characters will eventually resolve itself into amity and goodwill.
v Foreshadowing: Rosalind’s uncharacteristically awkward first encounter with Orlando anticipates the depth of her affection for him.
Structure and Form: The presentation of the conflicts—as well as the use of Rosalind's disguise to create suspense—takes place quickly in the play. The audience can then settle back and delight in the complications that follow. Overall, the plot structure moves along smoothly and plausibly, with Rosalind—an appealing, well-developed character—controlling the direction of the story. However, the change of heart of the two villains, Oliver and Duke Frederick, seems contrived and forced. Oliver reforms, unqualifiedly contrite, after his brother Orlando saves him from a lion. Then, Orlando's other brother, Jaques de Boys, pops up from nowhere in Act 5 to tell us that an "old religious man" has converted Duke Frederick, turning him into an upright man who has yielded his crown to his banished brother, Duke Senior.