Presents to Princes (article)

Presents to Princes: A Bestiary of Strange and Wondrous Beasts, Once Known, for a Time Forgotten, and Rediscovered
By Helmut Nickel, for Metropolitan Museum Journal (1991)

For starters, how cool would it be to have a name like “Helmut Nickel”? I wonder if the department/my thesis committee would let me adopt a really amazing nom de plume for my thesis (if I ever finish the f-cking thing).

Okay, so this article is a discussion of some iconic creatures that persisted in the Middle Ages, appearing as heraldic beasts, features in bestiaries, pets of (and gifts to) people of rank, and through various other cultural conduits. The article is full of absolutely gorgeous illustrations, and I only wish I could see them in colour. I wish someone would make a picture book of medieval beasts. Maybe someone already has. Time to tackle AbeBooks…

I will keep my tongue between my clenched teeth and ignore the disparaging remarks that Nickel makes about Mandeville. Nickel discusses Mandeville briefly in terms of his “colourful account of the Great Khan’s court” (135), and the red skins that hang on the walls, from animals that Mandeville calls the “panters” (variously translated as “panthers” and “pandas”). Nickel notes a level of detail in Mandeville’s description of the skins that surpasses “the sources happily exploited by Sir John to flesh out his own stories” (135). As Nickel comments, this may be taken as an indication that “Sir John was not just a bald-faced liar but had some traveling experience of his own” (135). An unnecessary and unscholarly dig, and a pointless inclusion given that the extra details could just as easily be attributed to pure invention and imagination.

Okay, I didn’t keep quiet, so I might as well just say it: Nickel, I liked your article, but I think you should leave Mandeville alone. Human storytelling around the world is built on a rich foundation of loving plagiarism. Mandeville’s popularity attests to his incredible power as a storyteller. Don’t be jealous!

Studies in Words

Can I just say that when you're sitting in a cedar-plank floathouse beside a roaring woodstove fire, the waxing moon shedding light through the shutters like an animal discarding its hide to dance nude in human form --

when you've got a coffee mug of smoky single malt scotch in one hand, and Leonard Cohen playing (softly, because you know the words and all you really need is the suggestion of a tune) --

when your belly is full of good food, and your lips are still smoldering from the remnants of a cigar, and the warmth from the flames and cast iron wraps around you like a live thing clinging to you gently --

when all those stars align, C. S. Lewis' discussion of the word "nature" (phusis, kynde, physical) makes even more sense than is typical.