The time has come, as it does every year when I’m not in graduate school, for me to fare forth to Minot, North Dakota for the Norsk Høstfest. I leave this weekend, and I’ll be gone all next week. Blogging from this quarter will be light or nonexistent during that time. We appreciate your patience, and thank you for flying Brandywine Books.
A number of people have drawn my attention to an article recently published in The American Journal of Physical Anthropology. I think I’ve seen it linked at least twenty times of Facebook: A Female Viking Warrior Confirmed by Genomics.
Several people asked my opinion of it. My initial responses were brief. I had a pretty good idea that there was more smoke than fire here, and that the article was going to get some pushback.
And I was right. This article is by none other than Judith Jesch, author of Women in the Viking Age, a standard work on its subject. I’ve never read the book, allergic as I am to feminist historians, but I think I’ll get it now. Because Ms. Jesch has articulated exactly my concerns. (Plus a lot more, because she’s you know, smarter than me.) Continue reading Skeleton in armor (not by Longfellow)
Sorry about not posting yesterday. It was a day like no other, remarkable in its occurrences. There was no time, or energy, for blogging.
I don’t think I mentioned it before, because the event was a closed one, but I was invited to speak – twice – at a retreat for the pastors of my church body. They wanted me to first do an afternoon presentation on the Vikings, and then give a sermon to the pastors at the evening banquet.
Even I thought this rash, and probably ill-advised.
But I prepared my talks, and I was on the spot at the appointed hour. First I spoke about the conversion of Norway in the Viking Age, rehashing Fridtjof Birkeli’s revisionist arguments that the whole business was more peaceful than the saga writers suggest, and that Haakon the Good has been unjustly underrated by historians. I wondered whether any of the pastors would care about this, but in fact it turned out to be the first standing room only crowd I’ve ever addressed. The question and answer session afterwards was thoughtful and fun, and it ran overtime.
In the evening I gave a sermon on 1 Corinthians 12:12-20, where St. Paul describes the church as being like a body, in which every member has a function to carry out. I related this to our church body’s history, and to its emphasis on lay participation back in the days when it was still a debatable question whether a layman would be allowed to lead a prayer in the pastor’s absence. I stressed the risks involved in this way of doing church, and urged them to become risk-takers. (Easy for me to say; I’m not a pastor.) It went over very well, and the response was positive.
Oh yes, the food was delicious, too. We bachelors don’t get that many really good meals that we can afford to overlook them.
Then I drove home (depending on my GPS to get me around a bridge under repair), a shell of my former self, because that was about all the human contact I could handle in one day.
I feel that I ought to post something about the 9-11 anniversary. But I really don’t want to.
The day makes me sad. And not just (though certainly in part) for the loss of innocent lives on that black day 16 years ago.
I’m sad because, for a short time, we thought we were all united as a nation again. “This,” some of us hoped, “will be the event that will turn America back to its founding faith (secular and sacred).”
But that did not happen. It didn’t happen because of one – essentially racist – conviction held by the Left today. That conviction is that only white people possess moral agency (the ability to choose and decide issues of right and wrong). For leftists, brown people and black people cannot act as moral agents. They are like children, or animals. Their sins are always really the fault of white people.
Because of that belief, we have failed to meet the challenge of 9-11. Our enemies hoped to frighten us into compliance. And, as far as I can see, they have succeeded.
I would be delighted to be proved wrong.
Scandinavian mystery novels are all the rage these days. I’ve reviewed a few here, though in general they’re not my cup of aquavit. But there’s a big murder case under way in Denmark right now. It doesn’t seem to be much of a mystery, though. But full points for bizarreness.
A Swedish journalist named Kim Wall, 30 years old (and quite attractive judging by her photograph), boarded a small private submarine in Copenhagen on August 10. She was there to interview its Danish inventor, Peter Madsen. Only the two of them were aboard. The submarine was reported missing the following day, and a search began. The sub was spotted returning to port the same morning, but it sank suddenly. Madsen was rescued by a private boat. He claimed Wall had been fine when he’d put her ashore the evening before.
Police raised the sub, and investigators began to examine it (they found blood). Madsen then changed his story, saying there’d been some kind of accident, and he’d “buried her at sea.”
(The old “buried at sea” defense. Works every time.)
On August 14, investigators announced that the sub had been sunk deliberately. On the 21st, a headless, limbless torso, weighed down with metal, was discovered in the area where the sinking had occurred. Police say it was “deliberately mutilated.” It has been identified by DNA analysis as Wall’s.
Innocent until proven guilty and all that, but this one looks open and shut. Not a novel’s worth of work for dour Danish detectives. Too bad sentencing is so light in Scandinavia.
Our original phone, as best as I recall, looked pretty much like this. Photo credit: Infrogmation (talk) of New Orleans.
It is a failing to which old men largely tend, to talk about “the way it was when I was a boy.” We like to imagine that younger people are interested in this information. As a not insignificant bonus, it gives us the opportunity to brag about the sufferings and deprivations of our youth. There’s a subtext that says, “I’m tougher than you, punk, and if you don’t think so, just try me.”
We call this “passing on tradition.”
Somebody on Facebook recently asked about things we did and used when we were young that kids today just wouldn’t understand.
My immediate response was, “Party Lines.” You may have even run across the term “party line” at some point, where it did not refer to the agendas of political parties. This denotes the party lines of my youth.
I shall speak to you now of Party Lines. Continue reading The Party Line (non-political)
A Danish scholar, Christian Jürgensen Thomsen, is considered one of the fathers of the modern field of archaeology. He was the first curator to arrange artifacts according to the materials from which they were made, helping to develop the concept of historical ages – Stone, Bronze, Iron.
Scandinavian archaeology suffered a serious blow recently, when thieves entered the University Museum of Bergen, Norway, by way of a repair scaffold. Inventory still has not determined the entire extent of losses, though I’ve seen pictures of missing items posted on Facebook, with alerts to watch out for them on the antiquities market. It appears a number of Viking Age items are among those missing.
“An artificial intelligence system being developed at Facebook has created its own language,” reports Digital Journal. “It developed a system of code words to make communication more efficient. Researchers shut the system down when they realized the AI was no longer using English.”
Whether the AI agents were actually saying anything of consequence is another matter. If they weren’t, this is just an interesting story of robot slang, which is a natural way to use language. But it’s still evil, natch. Robots talking among themselves in a language they developed themselves? That’s the definition of evil.
A big story in the news this week is the return of an old story. People are rallying to remove monuments of Confederate soldiers, which remind them of our country’s disturbing history, a slave industry that continued to oppress long after its dismantling.
But slavery still exists in the sex industry and is defended by some of the very people calling for the removal of monuments (as well as some of those supporting the monuments). Brothels in Nevada, surrounded by barbed wire, imprison women, if not girls as well, who supposedly living free and fulfilled lives.
One of the most disturbing discoveries I made was that the loudest voices calling for legalisation and normalisation of prostitution are the people who profit from it: pimps, punters and brothel owners. They have succeeded in speaking for the women under their control. The people who know the real story about the sex trade have been gagged by a powerful lobby of deluded ‘liberal’ ideo-logues and sex-trade profiteers.
… why on earth do human rights campaigners and so many on the left support prostitution as a ‘job’ for women, and a ‘right’ of men? It all begins with the emergence of the campaign against HIV/Aids.
(via Prufrock News)
It was quite a weekend. By an old bachelor’s standards, anyway. I take some pride in having got through it with my natural force unabated.
Saturday was the big event at Camp Ripley (believe it or not), Little Falls, Minn., for the 75th anniversary of the activation of the 99th Infantry Battalion (Separate), the US Army’s Norwegian “foreign legion” in World War II. The festivities actually began the day before and continued through the evening, but I was only there Saturday afternoon. (That doesn’t mean I wasn’t invited to do more; I was. But I had to get home and unload my car for the following day’s exertions.)
Saturday afternoon was the public event. Besides us Vikings, there was an informational booth explaining about the unit’s history. There was also a small encampment of World War II reenactors:
[A photo belongs here, but our account doesn’t seem to allow posting from Photobucket anymore.]
Nice guys. Had some interesting conversations. These are history people, and Vikings were not outside their range of interest. Continue reading The strenuous life
As previously announced, I’ll be at Camp Ripley, near Little Falls, Minnesota tomorrow, for the 75th anniversary of the activation of the 99th Infantry Battalion (Separate), the special commando unit created by the US Army for the possible invasion of Norway in World War II. The event is at the Military History Museum, and is open to the public from 1:00 to 5:00 p.m.
The address is 15000 Hwy 115, Little Falls, Minn. 56345.
When Dave Lull sent me a link to this article from Literary Hub, I was a little uncomfortable. Articles on women in the Viking Age, like anything having to do with male/female relations written nowadays, tend to be, shall we say, “pregnant” with sociopolitical baggage. But the linked piece by Linnea Hartsuyker is accurate in every detail as far as I can tell. I could find no fault with it.
And you know I tried.
Women warriors were a potent literary fantasy, especially in a hyper-masculine medieval world where honor and avoidance of effeminacy were key motivators of male action. In narratives that contain women warriors, it is often the role of the male hero to turn them into wives and mothers, and their submission thus enhances the male hero’s virility. Women warriors, at least in the surviving literature, are never the central heroes of the tales, but ambivalent figures to be wooed and conquered.
If you’re in the neighborhood of Colfax, Wisconsin tomorrow, I’ll be playing Viking at a community celebration there. Noon to five. Be there or be somewhere else.
I’ve been thinking about walnuts. In Anders Winroth’s The Age of the Vikings, which I reviewed recently, he talks about walnuts as an exotic treat in Scandinavia at the time. He describes them as tasting sweet.
Walnuts do not taste sweet to me. They taste like slightly crumbly bits of wood.
I’ve long been pretty sure my sense of taste is defective. I seem to be particularly insensitive to sweet-tasting things, which would be why I crave sweet stuff that’s cloying to other people. While mildly sweet things (like walnuts, apparently) don’t register with me at all.
Do you find walnuts sweet?