#heretofore unpublished

[motownfiction]

no ghost in the graveyard

Colleen O’Connor has a thing about cemeteries. On every road trip, she makes her whole family – all six children – visit at least one. This summer, on a road trip to visit some semi-distant relatives in Rochester, New York, she makes them stop at a cemetery to see Susan B. Anthony.

Will, who is sixteen now, has had just about enough.

“Mom, no!” he shouts from the backseat.

“What’s the matter?” Colleen asks. “I didn’t think you hated the cemetery that much.”

“I hate them,” Molly, who’s ten, says. “You don’t even let us play ‘There’s no ghost in the graveyard.’”

“Because it’s disrespectful. Will, honey, what’s the matter with you?”

“I don’t want to see Susan B. Anthony’s grave like this!” he says. “Bad enough I have to be away from Lucy for five days … now I’m gonna go see Susan B. Anthony’s grave without her, too? She’s gonna kill me!”

“If she does, then you’ll get to meet Susan B. Anthony,” Sarah, recent high school graduate, snarks.

“Shut up, Sarah,” Will says. “You didn’t even have to go on this trip.”

“And pay for my own food? For almost an entire week? I’ll pass, man.”

In spite of Will’s protests, they end up at the cemetery to see Susan B. Anthony. Will is resolved not to get anywhere near the headstone – not without Lucy. Molly grabs Claire and Sophie and tries to force them into playing there’s no ghost in the graveyard. Will and Sarah hang behind, staying as far away from the rest of the O’Connors as possible.

They walk in lockstep. Will keeps his eyes on the dirt beneath him, trying not to think about everything there. He takes a beat before asking Sarah the first thing that comes to mind.

“You think anyone’s ever died here?”

Sarah snorts.

“It’s a fucking cemetery, man,” she says. “We’re the weird ones for being alive.”

“No, that’s not what I mean. I mean … do you think anybody ever dropped dead during a burial? Like they couldn’t take it and died of a broken heart or something.”

Sarah shakes her head.

“Broken heart, no,” she says. “Heat exhaustion, sure.”

Will nods, but he’s not really sure why. He’s just thinking about Lucy. Before he got in the car for this stupid trip, he kissed her on her porch and told her he wished she could go with him. If only she knew how much he meant it now. If only he knew how much he’d mean it then. He thinks about the night before they left … how pretty Lucy looked, lit up by the moon coming in through the blinds. They weren’t listening to “There’s a Moon out Tonight,” but with how beautiful she was, they should have been.

The next few words fly out of Will’s mouth a little too quickly.

“Sarah?”

“What now?”

“You know I … I had sex with Lucy last month.”

Sarah inhales like she just bashed her knee against that stupid too-big coffee table Mom and Dad just installed in the living room. Will knows that exact sound because they’ve all made it at least five times apiece.

“Hmm,” she says. “First time?”

“Yeah.”

“You OK?”

Will nods.

“OK,” Sarah says. “Is she?”

“Yeah,” Will says. “We’re … I dunno, I guess we really are OK.”

Sarah nods. She looks like she’s far away … like maybe she’s about to become the next ghost in the graveyard.

“I’m sorry,” Will says. “I didn’t mean … I just felt like I needed to tell somebody who wasn’t Sam or Daniel. You were the only other person who made sense.”

“It’s OK,” Sarah says, and Will thinks he mostly believes her. “Just don’t die. Or get her pregnant. But mostly don’t die.”

“OK,” Will says. “But if I die, I’ll make sure it happens in a cemetery. That way, you won’t have to waste any time in burying me.”

“I think it’s cute you think I wouldn’t throw you right in the furnace.”

“Yeah.”

They walk in silence a little while longer. Thank goodness.

[charlesdclimer]

Imagine: John Lennon

[squirrelno2]

In my monthly wander through documents I haven't opened in a while I came across the first fic I started writing for Star Wars, several years ago while bored on a plane, which remains unfinished, unpublished, and heretofore unhinted-at, but rereading it made me go "damn I like some of the stuff in here" so. Now a question.

[truebloodrandazzo]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Robert H. Eisenman The Dead Sea Scrolls Uncovered Hardcover Book.

[desultory-novice]

GOAL UNLOCKED  [Release the Dess Cut!]

Thank you so much everyone! I know how many people were pulling for Sir Uther to be The Ultimate Loser (me too, tbh) so it means a lot to me.

A promise is a promise! The Apologies AU Director’s Cut, with all the heretofore unpublished scripts and sketches and bonus essays is on its way!!

I’m on vacation right now + want to prepare some stuff for tourney finals + it will take me time to get things organized, but I’d currently like to shoot for October 31st est. as the Dess Cuts’ release date…!

✦ SECOND CHANCE, SEMI-FINALS ✦

Flower Waddle Dee VS Sir Uther VS Noir Fontaine

⭒A ROSE FOR THE CASKET⭒ >>>✧ VOTE HERE ✧<<<

this poll closes 9PM (CST) 14th of October. to learn why we are no longer polling on tumblr, read our information post here

[schizophrenology]

Early, unused concept art for Goncharov (1973) by Mœbius (Jean Giraud), commissioned personally by Scorcese himself. Tonal mismatch between the genre-defying source material and the experienced artist's relative unfamiliarity with the genre as a whole would mark the extent of Giraud's foray into organized crime drama, and the resulting dispute would lead to a personal falling out between artist and director that would last for nearly two decades before a chance meeting and reconciliation facilitated by Quentin Tarantino at a Sundance after-party in 1992. After the artist's passing in 2013, the original prints were discovered along with a variety of heretofore unpublished material and sold by the Giraud family's estate to a private, anonymous collector for an undisclosed sum. Recent controversy was ignited after the philosopher and cultural critic Slavoj Žižek speculated on his personal blog that the buyer was Scorcese himself.

[qqueenofhades]

Can you say a little bit about congenital disorders in royal lines? I know some of the fun ones, like the tendency towards hemophilia in the Romanov line, but I’m curious how much we can blame on cousin marriages and the like

You may already know this, but the ultimate poster children for "Jesus Christ, Don't Marry Your Relatives" were the Spanish Habsburgs. Their systemic practice of inbreeding, usually by marrying uncles and nieces or aunts and nephews, culminated in Charles II of Spain (r. 1665-1701), who had one of the more horrifying family trees imaginable and a litany of severe physical and mental disabilities. The phenomenon of rulers marrying their close relatives was also more of an early modern practice, rather than medieval. Indeed, medieval people were subject to the laws of "consanguinity," which prohibited them from marrying relatives within a certain extent of kinship. Complicated rules of blood, marriage, and even godparent-hood dictated who was related to who and whether it was permissible to marry them. This was often politically manipulated, as kings often claimed a heretofore-undiscovered degree of relation when trying to get out of an inconvenient marriage (for example, this was the rationale used in Louis VII and Eleanor of Aquitaine's divorce in the mid-twelfth century, even though they both quickly remarried to spouses to whom they were more closely related). If you were a king and wanted to marry someone within the prohibited degree, you had to apply for a dispensation from the papal court in Rome, and a lot of politics (i.e. whether the pope liked you or the potential implications of your marriage) went into deciding whether you got one.

In the Spanish context, this began to change in the late 15th century, as the so-called "reconquista," or "reclamation" of Spain by Catholic Christians, by expelling or outlawing the Muslims and Jews who had lived there for centuries, reached its culmination in 1492. This was supported by a set of restrictive new social, religious, and legal frameworks, such as (Nobody Expects The) Spanish Inquisition and the rule of limpieza de sangre, or literally "purity of blood." (Yikes.) Spanish Catholics were forbidden from marrying often-forcibly-converted Jews (conversos) or Muslims (Moriscos), in order to, you guessed it, preserve the "purity" of their superior Christian blood. The Hapsburgs were also influenced by this premodern eugenics principle, and began to marry their close relatives in order to maintain their "pure" royal blood and to make sure a direct descendant of the Hapsburg line was always on the throne. (After Charles II's death, there was the War of Spanish Succession, so... that did not entirely work out for them. As well as, y'know, the deformities.)

If you want to read more about this:

Burk, Rachel L. 'Salus erat in sanguine: Limpieza de sangre and Other Discourses of Blood in Early Modern Spain' (University of Pennsylvania, unpublished PhD thesis, 2010)

Dillion, Megan. 'Consanguinity on the Canvas: Studying Inbreeding

in the Habsburg Dynasty through Portraits', UReCA: The NCHC Journal of Undergraduate Research & Creative Activity (2018)

Kaplan, Gregory B. 'The Inception of Limpieza de Sangre (Purity of Blood) and its Impact in Medieval and Golden Age Spain', in Marginal Voices: Studies in Converso Literature of Medieval and Golden Age Spain (Leiden: Brill, 2012), pp. 19-41.

Nirenberg, David, María Elena Martínez, and Max-Sebastián Hering Torres, eds. Race and Blood in the Iberian World (Münster: LIT Verlag, 2012)

[phoenixrisesoncemore]

The Nature of Middle-earth Update 1

From an interview with Carl F. Hostetter regarding the publication of the upcoming Nature of Middle-earth on the site “Tolkienista” (see ‘source’ in tags for link to the interview).

“Though I wasn’t aware of it at the time, I started work on what would become The Nature of Middle-earth nearly 25 years ago, when I received a bundle of photocopies that Christopher Tolkien referred to as “late philological essays”. From this bundle I edited and published three texts in Vinyar Tengwar, that are also included (in more-or-less-differently edited form) in NoMe: “Ósanwe-kenta” (1998), “Notes on Órë” (2000), and “The Rivers and Beacon-hills of Gondor” (2001). Some time after this, Christopher asked me to help the French scholar [Michaël Devaux] edit a set of late writings on Elvish reincarnation, which were eventually published in the journal La Feuille de la Compagnie vol. 3 in 2014, and will likewise be included in NoMe. Those who have read these texts in the specialist journals in which they were first published will know that while they all deal with linguistic matters are in fact chiefly concerned with the natural world and/or philosophical and metaphysical matters.”

So it appears that these previously published (though often obscurely for the more general Tolkien fan) texts will be included (very excited to read the elvish reincarnation texts from La Feuille de la Compagnie vol. 3!). However, Carl also lists additional heretofore unpublished material. In terms of overall character of the book he says:

“I can’t yet speak about any more specifics, but I can say that The Nature of Middle-earth will appeal most to those who enjoy the descriptive and historical parts of Unfinished Tales, as well as those who enjoy Morgoth’s Ring.

Also of note here is the statement that there is very little M-e text left out there to be published.

Source tag doesn’t appear to be working so copy and paste the following:

http://tolkienista.com/2021/07/16/from-linguistics-to-metaphysics-interview-with-carl-f-hostetter-editor-of-the-new-book-by-j-r-r-tolkien/

[jordankennedy]

hal jordankennedy’s heretofore unpublished anons (greatest hits)

[mugasofer]

General-purpose RP system skeleton with a sort of vital meta mechanic where if you think of an exploitable opportunity in the worldbuilding that the GM admits makes sense and they hadn't thought of in advance, you get an intelligence-based roll to see whether this is a novel insight your character came up with, or whether the GM should come up with a heretofore unmentioned reason it isn't. (Possible critfails include "it *seems* like a good idea but is, unbeknownst to you, horribly dangerous".)

This is a really good idea. I hope you don't mind if I copy it some time.

I had a similar mechanic on a smaller scale in one of my unpublished RPG projects - you could spend XP to retcon that you always had an ability, so that you didn't have to build your whole character before play, but if it would have been useful earlier you risked retconning that your character was dumber than previously thought as well.

[billscheft]

I just found this unpublished piece from three years ago March that I wrote for The Forward, the weekly Jewish newspaper of New York, imagining President Bernie Sanders first State of the Union address. I say unpublished because the editor and I got into a heated exchange after he told me it was “a good start, but we needed to work on it.” When I hear “we” from an editor, I start to get a little sleepy. Okay, enough throat-clearing. Do with this what you will....

STATE OF THE JEWNION from President Bernie Sanders

Okay, let’s get right to it. If I don’t have lunch by 1:00, my small intestine starts building illegal settlements in my colon….

HEALTH CARE

We have made incredible strides in health care toward our ultimate goal of a single-payer system. And by single payer, I mean Sheldon Adelson. Uncle Sheldele is picking up the check.

In addition, Congress has passed a key provision which will offer people more choice in the marketplace, the wildly popular “That guy? He’s a quack. Go see my guy. He’s the best!” Amendment. Not only that, thanks to some backchannel hondling with the AMA, tsuris is now a pre-exisiting condition.

While you’re up, do yourself a favor and go to the new, streamlined, healthcare.gov and check out our popular Skype-based interactive feature, “Does this look infected?” which treated 50,000 visitors in its first month and will save $20 billion in ER visits this year. Needless to say, I am not afraid to tap into the nation’s strategic bacitracin reserves.

TRAIFE BAN

In connection with our strides in health care, I have signed an executive order for the first-ever traife ban, heretofore known  as “Operation Don’t Be Shellfish.” All items from these seven dangerous food groups:

Pigs

Hares

Clams

Catfish

Frogs

Grasshoppers

Marshmallows

are now forbidden from entering a supermarket. You want to go to the black market or FreshDirect.com, knock yourself out.

(Originally, oysters were on the traife ban, but I had one by mistake in some stuffing last Thanksgiving, and well, where have you been all my life, Pearlie?)

SUPREME COURT

I am beyond kvelled to fill the current vacancy in the Supreme Court with my nominee, the honorable second circuit judge Meyer Lifschultz. He has presided over 12,000 cases and 65 seders. He believes the constitution is a living, breathing document. Living, like your widowed uncle on Cialis. Breathing, like cotton. He is a staunch supporter of human rights. The only thing Judge Lifschultz is on record for being intolerant of is lactose.

He passed my litmus test, which was one question: “Do you know Irving Litmus?” To which he answered, “No, but I knew his nephew, Josh Litmus, and I went to camp with his mother’s sister’s cousin, Lally Zamcoff.” Which was the correct answer.

IMMIGRATION

We have yet to get a full statistical analysis of our new border security measures, but just by the eyeball test, our two new programs: “Hey hey hey! Where do you think you’re going?” and “Wipe your feet when you enter someone else’s country!”

seem to be effective slowing the influx of, well, we no longer call them the undocumented. We call them people who just don’t apply themselves. And let me tell you something about people who don’t apply themselves. They ruin it for todo el mundo.  The queso stinks from the cabeza down.

LEAKS AND SECURITY VIOLATIONS

Lastly, and maybe this is too speculative and circumstantial, but I believe I have been under constant audio surveillance by the CIA for the last three years. How else do you explain the constant buzzing and high pitched sounds, other than tinnitus? If I am correct and I have been recorded, please, I am beseeching you, and I’m asking nice, I could use a clean copy of my grandniece Shauna’s haftarah reaching from her bat mitzvah in April 2015.

Remember, ours is a great nation, made up of dedicated, hard-working people who want a better life for themselves and their kinder. And their kinder’s kinder. Who want a government that lifts them up and encourages their dreams, not a government who says, “Look who has dreams….”

I believe that I can be a humble facilitator for those dreams. I know what you’re thinking, “Look who thinks he’s humble….”

Genug.

Gute nacht.

[motownfiction]

pumpkin spice latte

Other than loving each other, the only thing Rosemary and Michael can agree on is loving their coffee.

Growing up, the two of them were never particularly close. Being brother and sister was hard enough as it was, but a four-year age gap made it nearly impossible. Rosemary, with her loud voice and bright energy, is exactly like every Doyle in the world (and the ones who have since left it, too). Michael, with his caution and precision, isn’t much like a Doyle or a DeLuca. He’s his own thing. Always has been.

When they were kids, Michael and Rosemary largely avoided each other. They loved each other, always, but they didn’t know how to be friends. Things changed around 2015, when Rosemary started watching Game of Thrones in between her classes at Michigan. Michael, who had recently moved into his own place, still stopped by to see his parents every now and then. He caught her watching, stayed a little while, and talked with Rose. Before long, he was coming back home just to hang out with her. They didn’t agree on anything about the show, but it was always a good time. He still wishes he’d made fun of Rosemary more when they were children. She’s a good sport about it.

This morning is the perfect opportunity to mock her. It’s the day before Thanksgiving, and they meet up at Starbucks to discuss their game plan for tomorrow’s dinner: how to deal with Charlie, with Grandma Maggie, with Katie Sheehan’s terrible store-bought pumpkin pie (the one she still thinks is fooling everyone). Billy, as always, is running late, but they don’t wait for him.

“I can’t do this without caffeine,” Rosemary says as they wait in line.

“Me neither,” Michael says. “You know, it’s your fault I’m addicted to caffeine now.”

“It is not.”

“Yeah, it is. Before you forced me to drink that cinnamon tea –”

“Forced you?”

“Forced me … I was getting by without caffeine. Now, I’m like that … what is that? Girl you like. The hair and the outfits.”

“Lorelai Gilmore?”

“Yeah, that one.”

Rosemary rolls her eyes.

“I don’t know how I got to know you well enough to figure that out,” she says. “I’m kind of sorry I did.”

Michael almost laughs.

“Yeah, well, you’re next,” he says, as though she doesn’t notice.

Rosemary grins with all her teeth, tips her head to the side like she’s modeling for an archaic Sears catalog, and says, “Pumpkin spice latte, please!”

Now, Michael actually laughs. Rosemary turns around and stares daggers at him.

“Basic bitch,” he says.

“Basic asshole,” Rosemary says. “You know what? I’m gonna tell them you’re my very tall son, and you’re not allowed to have coffee.”

“You wouldn’t even get away with it.”

“Sure I would. I’d tell them you suffer from SORAS.”

“Sore ass? Like I need a hemorrhoid donut?”

“No, asshole. Soap Opera Rapid Aging Syndrome. When a woman has a baby on a soap opera, and three months later, he’s starting high school.”

“Rose, no one knows what the fuck that means.”

“Watch me. Watch me prove you wrong. And when you’re wrong, it’s apple juice for you. It’s apple juice all fucking day.”

Michael rolls his eyes. The barista turns around with Rosemary’s pumpkin spice latte in her hand. She wears a knowing smile.

“Here you go,” she says to Rosemary. “I have an older brother, too.”

Rosemary looks at Michael and shrugs before taking a smug sip of her basic drink.

[midnightprelude]

Please tell me super fluffy things for Lyanna Lavellan & Fenris and Amaryllis Amell & Zevran. How do they wake up together? How do they show their love? What's their favorite feature of their partner? Or anything else you want to share

Still accepting TMI Tuesday asks!

Here’s some heretofore unpublished nonsense from some banter that @lethendralis-paints and I wrote. She’s a lot more serious in Inquisition, but afterwards, when she meets Fenris in Minrathous, she’s loosened up significantly. Plus, he definitely makes her goofy. :D

LYANNA AND FENRIS ONCE HAD A DUEL USING CUTLERY OVER AN APPLE TART. :D

The sun was setting, red light tinted with golden hues streamed in through the large windows of Dorian’s sitting room. A series of couches and tables were arrayed, far more than were necessary for the two solitary figures presently occupying the space. Lyanna sat on one, facing her friend, wearing a look of exasperation and bemusement.

Dorian laughed at her. “Lya… you’re an idiot. Did you really think that was going to work? Your flirting really leaves something to be desired, you realize? Especially with Fenris. He’s not going to be interested in that nonsense.”

She sighed. “I might as well try; I’ve done almost everything else at this point.” She took a swig of wine from the bottle that was sitting between them. “I’m left with only the truly absurd now.”

Dorian frowned, unsure of how to help her. “Maybe you should… Why do you always go for men who don’t want a relationship?”

“I like a challenge,” she said, her green eyes sparkling in the setting sun.

Dorian chuckled lightly. “You certainly complain a lot for someone who supposedly ‘likes a challenge’.”

Lyanna shrugged, taking another sip straight from the bottle. “I also like to complain about my life choices.”

Fenris entered the sitting room, carrying a silver tray of assorted snacks laden with tarts of all kinds, some chocolates, pieces of fruit. He sat it in front of them, taking an apple tart in hand. They each began to munch on the treats he had brought from the kitchen, pastries still warm.

Fenris had heard some of the discussion, but was unsure of its context. He looked at Dorian and Lyanna, eyebrows raised. “What are you speaking of?”

At the sound of his voice, Lyanna threw herself back on the couch dramatically, her good hand covering her eyes, sighing deeply.

Fenris looked at her appraisingly. “Hold on a moment. All of the idiotic things you were doing….those were attempts to get my attention?”

There was a groan from the woman lying in repose.

Fenris continued, eyeing her. “It looked suspiciously like childish pranks. I thought you were mocking me!”

Lyanna uncovered her eyes, their trajectory alternating between Dorian and Fenris and back again.

“Um…” She started. “Well yes, actually. About the attention, not the mocking. Did it work?”

Fenris cocked an eyebrow. “Do I look hopelessly smitten?”

She met his gaze with a wicked grin. “Oh, absolutely! That grimace says it all! You’ve been thinking of nothing but me for months.

“Well, you’re in luck, my friend!” She sat up, turning her head coquettishly to the side, exposing her slender neck. “I have decided to return your affections, after much cajoling!”

She winked at him, a grin plastered on her face. 

Dorian rolled his eyes with such force they could almost be heard. “This is wonderful progress. At this rate, it’ll only take another two decades for him to feign interest. Well done, Lya, you’ve really ensnared the poor man.”

Fenris groaned, but when he turned from her, a small smile had appeared in the corners of his mouth.

She stood immediately, turning back to Dorian. She gestured wildly and exclaimed, “DID YOU SEE THAT?! That hasn’t happened before, ever!”

Her hand went back to her forehead and she allowed her knees to buckle, feigning a fainting spell. “Oh, Fenris, I’m so in love.”

She opened her eyes, peeking at Dorian. “Too much?” she whispered to her friend.

Dorian took a tart himself and nodded. “Absolutely, too much.”

Lyanna threw her head back to the cushion. “Ah, Void take you all.”

Fenris groaned, but his smile had widened ever so slightly.

Anders grabbed a large brick of chocolate, broke it in half and gave some to Dorian. The blonde mage leaned over to her and whispered into her ear. “Perhaps a different approach would be effective? He likes to help people.”

She nodded, her eyes glittering. “Fenris, can you show me how to swing around that sword of yours? I’m trying to build up some other skills. I can’t knife everyone I meet and sometimes a heftier weapon could do me good.” She glanced at Dorian, raising an eyebrow towards him.

Fenris looked at her, curiously. “Hmm…” He considered. “Let us start with the basics, then. Pick it up without injuring your dainty wrists and then we shall see!” 

She stood, staring at him, hand on her hip with bemusement and mock fury. “WHO ARE YOU CALLING DAINTY?!”

Fenris shrugged and unclasped his greatsword from its sheath, passing it to her as easily as lifting a sheet of paper. 

She looked at it. Up close it seemed even more massive and unwieldy. She wondered at how he was able to use it with such grace, as though he were just dancing. Straining, cheeks flushed, she manages to lift it several feet off of the ground by sheer will, nearly holding it horizontally before allowing it to gently touch the ground again. It took all of her strength to prevent it from cutting into the wooden floor.

Lyanna sighed, sitting down heavily. “Fine. Let’s start with something a bit smaller then. How do you even manage to lift that ridiculous thing?”

Fenris picked up a butter knife, his face a mask, and handed it to her, taking a seat across from her. “Here, this will do for a start.”

Nonplussed, she took the knife and brandished it towards the warrior. “En garde, then!” She grinned, twirling the knife between her fingers. “More my style anyway. What is my reward when I best you?”

A small, nearly imperceptible smile curled the corner of Fenris’s lips as he picked up a fork. “You’ll get the last piece of the apple tart. Know my generosity!”

“That’s not what I was hoping for, Fenris, and you know it.” She sighed again, frowning. “But fine, we shall play for tarts then!”

Fenris pointed the fork towards her. “To the winner go the spoils.”

[truebloodrandazzo]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Robert H. Eisenman The Dead Sea Scrolls Uncovered Hardcover Book.

[the-merricatherine]

One of the earliest English writers on the Caribbean, John Davies, translating the observations made by the Frenchman Charles de Rochefort, noted the increasing number of Africans among the Kalinagos during the following century: ‘In Dominico there are some Caribs [Kalinago] who have many Negroes as slaves… Some of them they got from the English Plantations and some from the Spanish ships heretofore cast away on their coasts, and they are called Tamons, that is Slaves: they are so well ordered, that they serve them in all things about which they are employed, with as much obedience, readiness and respect as if they were the most civilized people in the world.’ This description of Africans as serving as ‘slaves’ to the Kalinagos is now disputed. Judging from other literature it is more likely that the Kalinagos were incorporating this other ethnic group into their kinship system for the survival of both (see: Lennox Honeychurch, Carib to Creole, a history of contact and cultural exchange. Unpublished doctoral thesis, 1997, Bodleian Library, Oxford University)."

"In the Forest of Freedom: The fighting Maroons of Dominica" (Lennox Honeychurch)

[afishtrap]

Historians of premodern Chinese urbanism have long assumed that the origins of the Chinese imperial city plan stem from a passage in the Kaogong Ji (Record of Trades) section of the classical text Rituals of Zhou which describes the city of the King of Zhou. Taking this description as the single source of all Chinese capitals, these historians have gone on to write that any Chinese imperial city constructed during the last 2,000 years not only has much in common with any other one, but that all have been built according to a single scheme. Yet the plans of the two most important Chinese imperial cities, Chang'an in the 7th to 9th century, and Beijing after the 14th century, indicate that a crucial feature of the Chinese imperial urban plan, the position of the imperial palaces, is in the north center at Chang'an and roughly in the exact center at Beijing, thereby dispelling the myth of the direct descent of all Chinese imperial city plans from the King of Zhou’s city. Moreover, an examination of excavated cities of the first millennium B. C. shows that the Chang'an plan, the Beijing plan, and a third type, the double city, have their origins in China before the 1st century A. D., when the Kaogong Ji is believed to have been written. Moreover, all three city plan types can be traced through several thousand years of Chinese city building. After stating the hypothesis of three lineages of Chinese imperial city building, the paper illustrates and briefly comments on the key examples of each city type through history. More than 20 cities are involved in understanding the evolution of the imperial Chinese plans. Thus this paper also includes many Chinese capital plans heretofore unpublished in a Western language. The plan of Chang'an is different from that of Beijing because the latter city was built on the ruins of a city designed anew by the Mongol ruler of China, Khubilai Khan, with the intent of adhering to the prescribed design of the Kaogong Ji; whereas Chang'an was built according to a plan used by native and non-Chinese rulers of China only until the advent of Mongolian rule (with one exception.) Finally, this paper examines the assumption that there was little variation in Chinese imperial city building. A main reason for the assumed uniformities in Chinese capitals is because the imperial city is traditionally one of the most potent symbols of imperial rule, such that digression from it might imply less than legitimate rulership. Thus it can be shown that Chinese and non-Chinese dynasties had their actual city schemes amended for the historical record through the publication of fictitious city plans.

Steinhardt, Nancy Shatzman. “Why Were Chang'an and Beijing so Different?” Journal of the Society of Architectural Historians. Vol. 45, No. 4 (Dec., 1986), pp. 339-357.