Jean de Meun’s Fortune-Telling Dice

Apparently Jean de Meun, a medieval writer most famous for writing the continuation of The Romance of the Rose, wrote a fortune-telling manual that used 12-sided dice called The Dodechedron of Fortune. The Folger Library has an English-language version, including a sample page of fortunes.  From reading the descriptions of other scholars, it looks like Jean based his 12 on the 12 signs of the zodiac.

No word yet on the location of Jean de Meun’s Monster Manual or Fiend Folio.

 

[For medieval scholars: Looks like it might be covered a bit in a special session at the International Congress on Medieval Studies this Friday at 1:30. Session 239, Fetzer 2040. I already had that marked in my own program even before I knew they were covering this.]

The “Jesus’ Wife” Forgery and the Limits of Knowledge

It seems that the media is starting to realize that the “Jesus’ wife” papyrus is likely a hoax. This should not surprise us. As soon as we heard that spectroscopy had somehow offered the “definitive” proof (and not coincidentally, just before the annual spate of Easter “who was Jesus” articles), it should have sent up a serious red flag.

Layman who don’t understand textual scholarship (study of books, scrolls, handwriting, etc) typically have an unrealistic sense of what these sorts of physical tests of the artifacts can tell us. They generally aren’t as precise as what we can gather from other types of evidence, such as internal references, linguistic structures, and handwriting styles (I’m talking about paleography here, not the pop culture “Oh, if you make big loops in your handwriting you have an assertive personality” stuff). We can gather information that is both more accurate and precise without ever whipping out a microscope. Usually those sorts of physical tests just work as part of a basket of data confirming what we are already pretty sure of.

But even then, understanding what the information MEANS confuses the general public. For the moment, let’s take out the issue of intentional forgery (which we may have in this case), and assume that we have a legit artifact. And let’s further go into some science fiction universe where we can put the artifact under a microscope and know with 100% certainty that the papyrus was harvested Saturday, May 2nd, 314 AD at 10:52 AM exactly. That doesn’t tell us that the writing comes from that date — it tells us that it could have come from NO EARLIER THAN that date, since it might have sat around for years or even centuries before anyone wrote on it. And since it may be a copy of another text (as was common in pre-printing press days), even if we know that at that very moment a scribe took quill to papyrus, it might be a copy of something first drafted the day before, the year before, or a millennium earlier. Without the other linguistic information, it doesn’t tell us much at all.

But let’s go even farther into the realm of science fiction. Let’s say that we know with 100% certainty that the author of the text first wrote it down on that Saturday morning in 314 AD, and that he was not copying from anywhere else. That would tell us … what, exactly? That some dude in 314 thought Jesus might have had a wife? Heck, I can point to some dude in 2014 who thinks Jesus might have had a wife. Dan Brown made a fortune off that idea — yet it has no bearing whatsoever on whether the historical Jesus had a wife or not, nor is it even an accurate representation of general 21st century belief (let alone 4th century belief).

My point here is not to beat up people who were taken in by a hoax; who hasn’t been tricked at some point in their lives? Instead, it’s to offer a caution — the next time you read a headline saying that some sort of scientific test “proves” something about an ancient, classical, or medieval text: that the Beowulf manuscript was written four centuries earlier than we thought, or that Edward DeVere was really Shakespeare, or that Emperor Shun flew with reed hats — take it with the biggest grain of salt you can find.

__________
Professor Awesome, PhD

Book Series Recommendation from Allegriana

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dqaCOwTgEXY

Allegriana, self-described geek-of-all-trades, who you might recognize as The Chainmail Chick, recommends the Vorkosigan Saga. She has her degree in English and Creative Writing,  and spends more time at cons than a person has a right to, she knows of what she speaks.

(No, the feature image above isn’t from the Vorkosigan Saga. It’s the cosplay image of Allegriana that we use as Scheherazade for the “Professor Awesome Presents” videos)

Deadlands TV — Through the Xbox

Microsoft announced yesterday that it will make original programming for the Xbox, that they’re calling “Xbox Originals.” Some of the programming looks like it might be interesting (though even with Ridley Scott and Steven Spielberg on board, do we really need TWO Halo projects?), and other programming, meh.

One exciting project is a show based on the “Deadlands” RPG. Yes, that’s a tabletop RPG, not an MMORPG. For those unfamiliar with the setting, it’s a mix of magic and steampunk in a Wild West setting. The Civil War drags on, and a mineral called “ghost rock” that burns hotter and longer than coal fuels the devices of mad scientists. The town drunk might actually be an intelligent zombie using alcohol to slow his decay, and the cardsharp in the saloon can use playing cards to cast magical hexes. You’ve got spiritual revival among the indians, gunslingers, railroad robber barons — fun for the whole family.

There are some other interesting projects in the Xbox pipeline — “Signal to Noise,” “Humans,” and “Winterworld” all look good — but hopefully a Deadlands series will renew interest in this classic tabletop RPG.

Árstíðir’s “Heyr Himna Smiður”

Árstíðir  sings Kolbeinn Tumason’s “Hear, Heavenly Smith,” a very early 13th century Icelandic hymn (though the music was composed by modern musician Thorkell Sigurbjörnsson). Check out how casual they are — the one singer doesn’t even put down his beer the whole time.

Here’s an English translation (from Counterpoint Cafe):

Listen, smith of the heavens,
what the poet asks.
May softly come unto me
your mercy.
So I call on thee,
for you have created me.
I am thy slave,
you are my Lord.

God, I call on thee to heal me.
Remember me, mild one,
Most we need thee.
Drive out, O king of suns,
generous and great,
every human sorrow
from the city of the heart.

Watch over me, mild one,
Most we need thee,
truly every moment
in the world of men.
send us, son of the virgin,
good causes,
all aid is from thee,
in my heart.