#history: byzantine

[isabelpsaroslunnen]

[Original date: 5 July 2016]

The more I write, the more I feel that “Oh, but it’s a fantasy world! You’re not actually depicting any real cultures” is not at all useful or productive. For one, if you can’t see the connections between things like Lord of the Rings or A Song of Ice and Fire and medieval Europe, I don’t know what to say to you. They are not direct depictions, but they are very, very evidently rooted in history and culture—and the baggage that comes with them.

It’s true that the connecting fibers are much thinner for some works than others, but while most are not on quite the scale of Middle-earth or Westeros, many follow in that kind of tradition. Speaking as a writer—in my day job (such as it is), I study early modern and eighteenth century British literature, and my interest in those periods constantly pervades my fiction. I did as much historical research for the first chapter of my fantasy novel as for straightforward historical fiction, because many aspects absolutely are drawn straight from history.

At the same time, of course, it is a fantasy and a secondary world, and those are never going to be directly equivalent.

For instance, ASOIAF is obviously and unabashedly inspired by the Wars of the Roses, enacted across a continent rather than one small island, but the Starks and Lannisters are not simply fantasy versions of the Yorks and Lancasters. During the Wars of the Roses, both families were Plantagenets, branches of the royal house of England with rival claims to the throne. In ASOIAF, neither the Starks nor Lannisters have any direct claim to the Iron Throne at all—we see the Plantagenet vs Plantagenet dynamic more with the deposed Targaryens vs their Baratheon cousins who won the previous phase of the conflict.

The Baratheons’ ebullient warrior-king, Robert, is probably most comparable to Edward IV, and his beautiful, ambitious wife to Elizabeth Woodville. However, Cersei Lannister is altogether a wilder, more amoral figure than Elizabeth, and Robert marries her out of political expediency rather than Edward’s passion for the unsuitable Elizabeth. Also unlike Elizabeth, Cersei triumphs over the austere northern lord who would strip power from her and her children, where Elizabeth lost the immediate battle to Richard of Gloucester—a far more ambiguous figure than Ned Stark.

In character, Cersei is perhaps more akin to the Lucrezia Borgia of legend, if not history. She comes with an ambitious, highly intelligent father who ruthlessly uses all his children (Tywin Lannister/Alexander VI), an incestuous brother-lover locked into an order that denies him an inheritance (Jaime Lannister/Cesare Borgia), and a second, widely loathed brother (Tyrion Lannister/Juan Borgia).

The parallels aren’t exact there, either, though. Cesare’s strategic and administrative brilliance goes to Tyrion, Lucrezia’s overriding loyalty to her family at odds with (in the fictionalized versions) a burgeoning conscience goes to Jaime, and Juan’s incompetent, wild recklessness goes to Cersei.

As far as Wars of the Roses analogues go, Daenerys Targaryen’s place seems to draw nearest to Henry Tudor, Earl of Richmond, the future Henry VII. Daenerys and Henry are, respectively, exiled survivors of the deposed branches of the royal family (Targaryen/Lancastrian) who, with local and foreign support, return to reclaim the kingdom. Yet Daenerys is wildly dissimilar from Henry. Even her claim to the throne differs. Where Daenerys is the only surviving, legitimate child of the old king, Henry’s Lancastrian heritage came through an illegitimate and female line, and he had a prudent, restrained personality in general, more like—say, Jon Snow.

That’s ASOIAF. If you jump to Tolkien, it’s not surprising that he linked Gondor to the Byzantine Empire in its decline. Like the Byzantine Empire, Gondor is the surviving half of a once-towering empire, holding on while the other half (Arnor/Holy Roman) loses its territory and decays into little states and feuding communities. The Battle of the Pelennor Fields has striking parallels to the fall of Constantinople, and Tolkien directly referred to Minas Tirith as a take on Constantinople.

Yet again, the parallels are not 1:1, even setting aside the basic fact that it turns out completely differently. Denethor is at most a tragic inversion of Emperor Constantine, but even that seems a stretch. His sons, Boromir and Faramir, don’t plug into any particular historical figures, and the faithful Rohirrim don’t exactly map onto anyone despite their clear Germanic inspiration.

Gondor is also heavily inspired by various regions of Italy, complete with internal strife and ruling princes who have discretion about sending armies to the Pope Steward to defend Rome Minas Tirith. Tolkien insisted that the rejuvenated Gondor at the end of LOTR is not Northern European, but essentially a restored Roman Empire with its seat at Rome. He identified various areas of Italy as the real life counterparts to Gondor, most notably Venice/Pelargir and Assisi/Lossarnach.

However, Gondor is geographically far larger than Italy, large enough to extend to Greece and Turkey, and has influences from ancient Egypt as well. The Egyptian influence lies not only in Gondor’s embalming practices but their massive monuments, their religion (which also has Jewish influences), royal imagery (especially with regard to the crown), and the general trends of Gondorian culture.

None of these, of course, are perfect models of reference—though at least you could legitimately argue that the films’ casting choices for Gondorian Dúnedain weren’t actually accurate to “Tolkien’s vision,” as is often claimed. But these are probably the most recognizable models for Gondor, with strong connections to history—and even with those, the references are multi-layered and flexible.

Essentially: this particular genre of quasi-historical fantasy absolutely draws from real history, sometimes closely, sometimes less so, which makes it perfectly possible to talk about accuracy, appropriation, and so on, in the context of fantasy. At the same time, it’s complicated by the fact that references are never direct and are worked out in the context of their own stories—a complication that is silenced rather than addressed by dismissing the relevance of history.

[charlesoberonn]

Shout out to Porphyrios, the whale who terrorized the waters near Constantinople for more than 50 years during the 6th century.

You'd sunk more Roman warships than most of their human enemies.

[memories-of-ancients]

Enameled and gilded glass bowl, Byzantine, 11th-12th century

from the Treasury of San Marco

[chainmail-butch]

I started reading Roland Betancourt's Byzantine Intersectionality because it has a chapter on transwomen, but it turns out that the book is heavily focused on transmasculinity and race in the Byzantine world.

Specifically I wanted to show you this discussion on artistic representation of top surgery and the likelihood that this actually represents top surgery.

Anyway this is really fucking cool

[boylerpf]

This lavishly decorated piece is a Byzantine bracelet dating from the 6th century. The Byzantines created complex and precious pieces, such as this bracelet, which is encrusted with expensive gemstones and pearls, demonstrating the wealth of the Byzantine empire.

The openwork technique, also called Opus interrasile (meaning ‘to scrape in between), is done by punching or piercing holes in the metal with a chisel or other sharp tool, resembling delicate, lace-like patterns.

Private Collection, North America

[theaustinstollhaus]

Byzantine history be like:

In 874 Emperor Kostalogous IV ascended to the throne after blinding sixteen nephews, and married his wife, Theodora.

However, he soon ran afoul of the Patriarch of Constantinople, Theopelagionikus, and his wife Theodora.

In 895 he was deposed by his general, Justiniapelomaxorianous II, and his wife Theodora.

This created nine new church schisms.

[lionofchaeronea]

Sardonyx cameo by an unknown Byzantine artist of the 14th century, depicting St. Theodore Stratelates ("Army Commander"). Theodore (281-319) was a Roman soldier, said to have been martyred during the persecution of Christians by the emperor Licinius. Here, Theodore is shown in full military dress, a spear in his right hand and a round shield on his left shoulder. The accompanying inscription invokes him and his namesake, Theodore "the Recruit," as protectors; the cameo would likely have been suspended from a chain and wore around the neck as a protective amulet.

Now in the Walters Art Museum, Baltimore. Photo credit: Walters Art Museum.

[whereserpentswalk]

I find it so weird that people try to deny that queerphobia as it exists in the west is rooted in Christianity. Like, people are literally more focused on not offended the pope than they are protecting queer life.

Remember that there was no queerphobia in the western world before the Christianization of Rome. Caesar being made fun of for being a bottom isn't the same as the queerphobia we see spanning from the late Roman empire to the present day. The first person on earth to outlaw gay male relationships was the byzantine emperor Justinian. The first writing to circulate in the west to talk against homosexuality was the Bible. The systemic cultural and legal marginalization of queer identities is directly tied to Christianity and still is, from Rome, to northern Europe, to Africa (it should be mentioned that the most queerphobic nation on the planet right now had a openly bi king before colonialism) and the Americas, we see that the introduction of queerphobia and the introduction of Christianity are one and the same.

Also when you try to deny that queerphobia comes from Christianity you basically have to claim that people are just naturally queerphobic, which is not only something not back up by history but implies the oppression queer people face is inevitable.

[sartorialadventure]

u/ChipHazardous:

"For a very long time the Roman empire was able to acquire silk through trade over 'the silk road' to China, but never able to unlock the secrets of producing it domestically themselves. Until 552AD, when two monks preaching in India then travelled to China, where they witnessed the guarded methods of using the live silk worm to spin the famous thread. Knowing the importance of what they'd learned, the monks returned to Constantinople to report directly to the emperor Justinian. He personally met the monks, heard all the details of what they'd seen, then asked them to return to China and find a way of smuggling these worms back to the empire. They agreed, and prepared for the 2 year ~6,500km (4,000mi) trek back to China on foot, hoof and wheel. Once back in China they acquired either eggs or young larvae, since the adults are too delicate for transport, and tucked them into hollowed bamboo canes for the long journey straight back home. Once the monks made it back to Constantinople (modern Istanbul, Turkey), domestic silk production slowly ramped up and the need for long journeys along the 'silk road' ramped down. Over time, this allowed the same type of silk monopoly which China had enjoyed through the prior centuries to now be established in the Mediterranean, becoming one of the bedrocks of the Byzantine economy for the next 700 years.

It's crazy to think about these two guys. 1500 years before you or I were born, making their second multi-year, 6,500km trek back from China, smuggling two bamboo canes full of bugs which would fuel the economy of one of the world's largest civilizations for the next 700 years. I wonder if they knew and understood these possibilities when they went to scoop the worms from their baskets in China...Imagine the anxiety trying to keep them hidden and alive the whole way back!"

(source)

[blueiscoool]

Byzantine Gold Bracelet w/ Stamped Medallions 6th C.

[lake-lady]

Favorite historical glass from the glass museum today 🍧🔮

[stefisdoingthings]

millions knives in my history book??????

[memories-of-ancients]

Gold wedding ring with an emerald and a garnet, Byzantine, 10th century

from The State Hermitage Museum, St. Petersburg

[illustratus]

The Massacre of Antioch by Gustave Doré

[city-of-ladies]

Antonina: a powerful woman in the sixth-century Roman world

"Antonina was the most powerful uncrowned woman in the sixth-century Roman world. She deposed Pope Silverius, arranged for the sacking of John the Cappadocian, traveled across the Mediterranean with her husband, and even occasionally inserted herself into the running of his army. She knew soldiers, officers, the emperor, popes, bishops, and historians, and at various times commanded them, pleaded with them, and intimidated them. This is a remarkable resume, virtually unparalleled among Roman military wives, and certainly without parallel in the sixth century. She was a formidable woman and, like her friend and patron Theodora, one who was occasionally feared. If the reputation of Belisarius is sometimes inflated in modern evaluations, the reputation of Antonina has been chronically underappreciated. Historians have focused far too much on the Secret History story of Antonina’s affair and her supposed domination of Belisarius, and far too little on her exceptional career. She is evidence that elite women in the sixth century could take on public roles alongside their husbands."

Belisarius & Antonina: Love and war in the age of Justinian, David Alan Parnell

[a-s-fischer]

One of the things that I really wish more people knew about bubonic plague* is that not everybody who got it before antibiotics died. Like your odds were not good. You had a better than fifty percent chance of dying. But you had around a one in four to one in three chance of living. For you, an individual with the plague, this is bad. I hope your will is up to date and you have made your peace with the divine.

But on a societal level after a plague epidemic, there were going to be a lot of people who had gotten the plague and survived. And plague frequently did not leave its victims unscathed. Plague often left its survivors with severe medical problems, including neurological problems. So in the aftermath of a large epidemic of plague, you are going to have a society that is suddenly much smaller, full of people who have boatloads of trauma, and suddenly with a much higher proportion of people with disabilities. And I'm not sure why but when I see discussions of the societal effects of plague epidemics in the Medieval and Early Modern periods, I rarely see that last one discussed. I think, however, it was probably pretty important to the experience of the plague and its aftermath.

*I am talking specifically about bubonic plague. Plague comes in three forms, all caused by the bacteria Y. pestis. The other two forms of plague, pneumonic, and septisemic had 100% or near 100% mortality rates before modern medicine.