![]() The content of this decretal commentary has not been translated. Also on page III, near the top left-hand corner, is a drawing of a little head wearing a periwig. A footnote on the bottom right-hand corner of page III is written in a hand different from the glosses. On the page III side, there is an illuminated letter "D" in red with purple pen work. The Roman numerals II and III at the top of each side of the manuscript indicate page numbers. The glosses (margin notes) on both sides of the manuscript are in the smaller text. The main text is written in faded black with blue and red punctuation marks or paragraph breaks. Both sides of the manuscript have larger text in the center of the page framed by two columns of smaller-sized text. This leaf is from a manuscript that is a commentary on a Pope Clement V decretal most likely written by Joannes Andreae, a canonist who lived in Bologna, Italy during the 14th century. Victor Soares, Medieval Portland Capstone Student, Winter 2005 17, Rose-Wright Manuscript Collection no. Portland State University Library Special Collections VII, chapter ii: De sepulturis cum commentarium Io9.Author: Joannes Andreae, commentary on decretal issued by Pope Clement V (French, 1264-1314) Show Me The Proofįeatured image via io9.com: Bizarre and vulgar illustrations from illuminated medieval manuscripts The marginalia is often inspired, not only for the creativity and the sheer hilarious, imaginative illustrations, but because the monks trapped in their long days of drudgery still found a way to live on. Illustrated monks pull faces at those who look at the text, cats chase mice, and people chase each other with knives. Maps get decorated with little naked people, women sleep with dragons, people get shot in the butt with arrows and cats play the bagpipes. The tedious office job is nothing new, and neither is the escapism that leads to the brilliantly done messages and illustrations that the books’ original authors absolutely never intended. But no one explanation has successfully addressed the widespread use of snails and the battle prowess they’re given. There have been a number of theories about what the snails might represent, from the poor to the feminine to some sort of religious figure. And, why in many of the illustrations, the snails are winning. It was so common, in fact, that the British Library started looking into just why snails were such a common opponent for the knights. One thing that shows up with bizarre frequency are illustrations of medieval knights jousting with or fighting snails. They’re penis trees, all right? Penis trees. And (showing that humor really has stayed the same over the centuries) there are also a lot of disembodied body parts, and . . . other body parts growing on trees. They poop on the text, they poop on other illustrations and on other animals, and, in some, they poop on dinner plates. Monkeys are often found, doing what monkeys do best-pooping. And there are some themes that, strangely, keep showing up in manuscript after manuscript. There are walking fish, animals playing instruments, and people with arrows stuck in them. Other marginalia are simply doodles in the margins. ![]() Others simply want ink that’s a better quality, and one monk in particular isn’t happy about how hairy his parchment is. Some lament that the book they’re creating will last longer than they will, others appeal to the saints to bring on the darkness and a momentary pause to the work. Some of it is, of course, scrawled complaints about the conditions the monks were working in, about the aches and pains that went along with hours and days of copying manuscripts, about how long they were working on the same book. Mindlessly boring wouldn’t even begin to describe it, so it’s not surprising that many monks took some liberties with what they were copying.Ĭountless books and manuscripts from medieval Europe have a little extra something found in the margins and hidden in some of the pictures. ![]() From sunrise to sunset, by candlelight, copying the words of others. One of the less desirable things about being a monk was the potential to spend hours and hours every day, painstakingly copying pages and pages of text and manuscript illuminations. The Whole Bushelīefore the invention of movable type and the printing press, the only way to make copies of books was by hand-and there was no care for proper lighting or ergonomic desks then, either. This marginalia provides an epic, humorous look into the lives of those who were caught in the most dreary of 9-to-5 medieval office jobs. Monks who were bored, aching, and sore from long hours copying manuscripts word for word often doodled in the margins of the books they were working on. We’ve all seen beautifully illustrated medieval manuscripts, but next time you see one, take a closer look. ![]() “Isn’t history ultimately the result of our fear of boredom?” - Emile Cioran, Histoire et utopie In A Nutshell
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |