On medieval kings and the blogosphere

Has any of my three readers ever been struck by the utter randomness of medieval king-naming conventions? Take the French, for instance. First, we have Charlemagne. Although the "the great" suffix is a classic cliche, it isn't as bad as it could be because they actually incorporate it into his first name. Pretty nifty, if I dare say so myself. Next there's Louis the Pious. He sounds like a nice kind of guy. Then there's my personal favorite, Charles Martel. There are several reasons for this:

1. This is a nice usage of foreign language - "Martel" is french for hammer, which brings me to....
   
2. It's got a historical incident behind it - because of his crushing defeat of the Muslims at Tours, people likened him to the aforesaid tool, and finally,
   
3. How many people have a metaphor in their name? Major points for such inovative creativity.

However, not so many kings were this lucky. Members of the hall of shame would include Pepin the Short, Charles the Bald, Louis the Stammerer and Charles the Fat. Wow, these poor guys' subjects must have had it in for them. How would you like to go down in history with a name like that? They obviously must have had high taxes.

I could go on and on about Viking names, but I think we'd all agree that they were pretty original in that department.



Moving on........I want to mention that my sister, Mary now has a blog. She's a lot funnier/more interesting than I am, so I'm risking losing my meager readership by mentioning it here. On top of that, she has this amazing ability to come up with an entertaining post on an unpromising topic. I wish I knew where she gets that from. Sigh.

Junto Update

Maddie and I, after discovering that the probability of our finishing a fiction Junto book was higher than that of a non-fiction one, have decided we're going to read another novel this time around. After much deliberation, we're going to do Quo Vadis by Henrik Sienkiewicz. In English, don't worry. ;-)

Here's what I know of the plot (the majority of which was found on the back of the book and Wikipedia....I know, I have great researching skills): A Roman patrician (aristocrat) falls in love with a Christian woman durring the Neronian persecutions. Apparently Peter & Paul make appearances too. I have no idea about anything else, except that there is a very strong pro-Christian theme. So all in all, from what I know, this book sounds marvelous! At least, I think so......the fact that it takes place in Rome grabbed me at the beginning. My friends have learned to dread the moment that Greece or Rome may come up in a conversation.......I have a slight obsession with the topic. Oh well. Thanks Maddie for putting up with me!


Well, I've gotta run, so sorry for a short post. Happy reading!

Jane Grey

Lady Jane Grey is a historical figure that - since I read her biography several years ago - I've always felt a connection with. Her academic and theological accomplishments, spiritual steadfastness, and willingness to accept whatever Providences befell her are things that I've always been drawn to and admire. Further than that, however, is that it's likely that we share the same birthday. Normally I wouldn't go bragging about something like that on my blog (who cares, anyways? ;-), but today that fact has been on my mind for a different reason - I'm the age she was when she died. Could I face the same gruesome death the way she did? The following is an account of the last moments of her life.

His [Guilford's, Jane's husband who was executed before her] carcass thrown into a cart, and his head in a cloth, he was brought to the chapel within the Tower, where the Lady Jane, whose lodging was in Partidge's house, did see his dead carcass taken out of the cart, as well as she did see him before alive on going to his death - a sight to her no less than death. By this time was there a scaffold made upon the green over against the White Tower, for the said Lady Jane to die upon.... The said lady, being nothing abashed....with a book in her hand whereon she prayed all the way till she came to the said scaffold.... First, when she mounted the said scaffold she said to the people standing thereabout: '

Good people, I am come hither to die, and by a law I am condemned to the same. The fact, indeed, against the queen's highness was unlawful, and the consenting thereunto by me: but touching the procurement and desire thereof by me or on my behalf, I do wash my hands thereof in innocency, before God, and the face of you, good Christian people, this day'

and therewith she wrung her hands, in which she had her book. And then, kneeling down, she turned to Feckenham [a priest who unsuccessfuly tried to convert her] saying, 'Shall I say this psalm?' And he said, 'Yea.' Then she said the psalm of Miserere mei Deus [Psalm 51], in English, in most devout manner, to the end. Then she stood up and gave...Mistress Tilney her gloves and handkerchief, and her book to master Bruges, the lieutenant's brother; forthwith she untied her gown. The hangman went to her to help her therewith; then she desired him to let her alone, and also with her other attire and neckerchief, giving to her a fair handkerchief to knit about her eyes.
Then the hangman kneeled down, and asked her forgiveness, whom she gave most willingly. Then he willed her to stand upon the straw: which doing, she saw the block. Then she said, 'I pray you dispatch me quickly.' Then she kneeled down, saying, 'Will you take it off before I lay me down?' and the hangman answered her, 'No, madame.' She tied the kerchief about her eyes; then feeling for the block said, 'What shall I do? Where is it?' One of the standers-by guiding her thereto, she laid her head down upon the block, and stretched forth her body and said: 'Lord, into thy hands I commend my spirit!' And so she ended.

Wow.

I don't know about you, but I find those words incredibly haunting. She starts off bravely, willing to face death in the face, but as soon as she can't see and is unable to find the block, the reality seems to set in and she panics. The painting at the beginning of this post portrays that instant of desperation. As if the story wasn't sufficient itself, the painting really makes you feel bad for her.

Enough morbidity. Anyways, I'd like to take this opportunity to recommend one of my favorite books EVER: Lady Jane Grey: The Nine Day Queen of England, by Faith Cook. It's a great read, and the story of this young woman's life could change your own. Do whatever it takes to get your hands on a copy of this book. It's that good.

Villette - chapters 36-42

First of all, I would like to take this time to mention that this is the first time Maddie and I have finished reading a Junto book. **insert applause here** I'm very proud. ;-)

Well, these last chapters were sort of like a dream to me. Maybe it's the events in the book itself, or if not that, then my reading of it while watching TV with the fam is probably the culprit. :-)

A theme that is especially mentioned in these pages is the relationship between Protestantism and Romanism. Lucy's already been exposed to catholic attempts at converting her, and is especially so at the end of the book. Although she firmly remains Anglican, I was slightly disturbed by her attitude towards "the other side" in chapter 36 -

• In the midst of a conversation with M. Paul, Lucy says,
  

  "I would not trouble your faith. You believe in God and Christ and the Bible, and so do I.”

  Inward groan.
  
  It's a rather generalized statement. On the surface, it looks like we believe in the same Deity and Bible, but the Catholic view of the two is so flawed that I find it hard to say they're the same. The basis for doctrinal and spiritual harmony between two beliefs is NOT a bare-bones adherence to basic Bible stories. It beats me how you can reconcile works-based and grace-based salvation and say they are basically the same thing.
• Later on she says this about M. Paul:
  

  "I thought Romanism wrong, a great mixed image of gold and clay; but it seemed to me that this Romanist held the purer elements of his creed with an innocency of heart which God must love."

  The relatively innocent way a man thinks about his mangled view of God does not induce Him to overlook the aforesaid view.
  
• Overall, Lucy's grievances against Roman Catholicism are not so much about salvation and theology proper but reckless clergy. Although Lucy states that she isn't a learned scholar, a child brought up in a Protestant home ought to have been able to discern that the really despicable thing about the Catholic church is not the wayward clergy but its unstable doctrinal foundation - the root of its other problems.
• The final thing that bugs me is that Lucy allows herself to fall in love with someone of a different faith. As is clearly stated in the Bible, their union would be an unequally yoked one. A great lesson on the dire need for young people to commit themselves to guarding their hearts - in real life, if Lucy were indeed a born again Christian, her life would turn out to be a very sorrowful one: As Thomas Watson says in his book The Godly Man's Picture, a godly man is one who is concerned with making others godly; when a husband doesn't know Christ, his wife's heart will bleed for his soul.

Enough said. The following is a list of the (literary) things I liked and disliked about this book, in that order:

• THE CHARACTERS! Mrs. Bretton, Lucy, Madame Beck and M. Paul will never cease to make me think deeply and laugh crazilly.
• THE SETTING! I want to own a summer house in the vicinity of Villette when I grow up and get rich.
• THE PSYCHOLOGY! The way Bronte brings you into the inner life of Lucy Snowe was absolutely magnificent. It really made me identify with her.
• THE METAPHORS! Ahhhhhhhhhh.......all those allusions to the Bible, mythology, history and literature were brilliant.

Now begins the hall of shame.

• The combinations of characters who got married. Lucy & M. Paul didn't get along! That was my one consolation with Graham & Polly - with them, it was at least plausible that they went well together. M. Paul is uncle, father, or (much) older brother - NOT husband - material! [cringe]
  
• The ending. While I liked the idea of Lucy writing the book while waiting for M. Paul to return, what was Bronte thinking, leaving his fate unknown? Argh!
• Lucy's past. (or lack thereof) I wish Bronte would have illuminated what was going on in Lucy's life that caused her to go to Villette, other than vaguely mentioning a berevement in the family. Dickens would have cleared that mystery up. ;-)
• The aforesaid Protestantism-Catholicism issue.
  

All in all, while Villette isn't my favorite book, I enjoyed it immensly. Each book has a personality of its own, and just like people, you never forget the out-of-the-ordinary ones. Villette is definitely one of those.