Julian Weiss and Sarah Salih, eds. Locating the Middle Ages:
The Spaces and Places of Medieval Culture. King’s College London Medieval
Studies. Woodbridge: Boydell and Brewer, 2012.
Reviewed by: Kristin Bovaird-Abbo
What does “space” or “place” really mean? As Julian Weiss
and Sarah Salih note in their introduction to Locating the Middle Ages: The
Spaces and Places of Medieval Culture, citing Yi-Fu Tuan’s 1977 Space and
Place: The Perspective of Experience, we often overlook these familiar
descriptors of the everyday world; however, as Weiss and Salih’s collection of
essays reveals, concentrated attention to medieval spaces and places yields a
plurality of “unexpected meanings” (xv) that complicates the Middle Ages in intriguing
ways.
This interdisciplinary volume moves coherently from the
global scope to the confines of the home and eventually the space of memory
itself. Despite these tidy categories, the essays contained within each vary
significantly, offering dizzying views into the medieval world via such primary
sources as literature and architectural records, demonstrating the flexibility
of spatial boundaries through maps that are redrawn, terms such as Hispania
that shift in terms of their meanings, city walls that are erected to contain
sacred spaces, and walls that may be permeated. As the editors note, “The
proposition that space is constituted by and through a diversity of
interactions and relationships is foundational” (xxii), and the essays
demonstrate the truth of this statement. These brief yet intimate glimpses into
various aspects of medieval spaces result in a disjointed picture of the Middle
Ages, for there is no neat, organized picture of this time period, and this
collection effectively proves it. After an introduction which ably positions
the book in light of other modern as well as medieval discussions of space and
place (including discussion of the application of postcolonial theory within
medieval studies), the volume moves into the sixteen essays, divided
conveniently into sections devoted to “World Spaces,” “Empires and Frontiers,”
“Cities and Power, Sacred and Secular,” “Courts and Castles,” and “Rewriting
Place.”
Within the section “World Spaces,” cartography places a
significant role, particularly in the first two essays. Richard Talbert argues
against the traditional interpretation of the Peutinger Map, the lone surviving
copy dating to AD 1500. Although long perceived of as a traveller’s guide
through the Roman world, the map’s peculiar shape and its emphasis on land
routes over sea ones, among other components, compels Talbert to thoughtfully
argue that the map’s purpose is to affirm Roman rule, specifically that of
Diocletian in AD 300. Paul Freedman then explores medieval notions of “the exotic,”
which leads him to India, from whence many traditions about what was
exotic—which Freedman applies to material objects such as perfumes and spices
as well as abstract ideas such as wisdom—originated and then was transmitted
throughout Europe. As more Europeans travelled to and from India, Freedman
notes that their reports served to mystify exotic India even more, for the
survival of inaccurate information compelled Europeans to hazard dangerous
incursions in the hope of attaining great wealth. Sharon Kinoshita then closes
the section with a discussion of how Mediterranean space is conceived, both in
terms of twentieth-century notions and medieval. She argues that the
Mediterranean is a dynamic space that at times contains parts of Africa to the
south as well as the Caucasus to the East; at other times, it “[ebbs] back in
the direction of its literal / littoral shores” (Kinoshita 43) This fluidity is
due to a variety of factors, including the movements of merchants, spies,
ambassadors, to name a few. She then turns to literature—beginning with
medieval French romances but then concluding with a Persian romance with sharp
similarities to the Tristan and Iseult legend—to demonstrate the complex
network that extends horizontally across the Mediterranean and surrounding
areas; the boundaries are permeable, as demonstrated by the transmission of
such motifs as found in these romances.
The next section focuses on specific figures of
power—historical as well as literary—who serve to define places and boundaries
through their political actions, beginning with considerations of
linguistically and culturally hybrid authors, namely Franco-Italian and
Anglo-Norman. Luke Sunderland explores the figure of Roland in the largely
overlooked Franco-Italian L’Entrée d’Espagne, contrasting the “soft power” of
Roland against the “hard power” of Charlemagne; ultimately, Sunderland argues,
the imperialism of Roland is more effective and desirable than that of his
uncle, for whereas Charlemagne extends the boundaries of his empire through
violence, Roland does so through “linguistic prowess and cultural knowledge”
(Sunderland 62). Julian Weiss then looks at a country in the place of
“becoming”—that is, Spain. By exploring Carolingian epics written outside of
Spain, including the Chanson de Roland, Weiss considers how Spain becomes a
“symbolic space that resolves at an ideological level some of the central
political contradictions of feudal dominion and sovereignty” (76-77). Sarah
Salih then crosses the channel to explore the landscape of John Lydgate’s Lives
of St Edmund and St Fremund. Through performing a close reading of Lydgate’s
text alongside its rich accompanying illustrations, Salih argues that these are
stories of “how space becomes place, how mere geography becomes a Christian
kingdom” (Salih 84), for Edmund’s arrival revitalizes the land, and he is shown
in harmony with the environment. In contrast, the Danes are presented as in
conflict with England; they are never shown within buildings, and the decay of
the land around them is evident.
The third section continues the volume’s narrowing trend,
looking specifically at cities and the ways in which their borders can be
manipulated. Konstantin Klein opens by surveying the development of Jerusalem
as a locus of sacred topography, a move which he argues begins during the
Theodosian era (379-457 CE). Using the example of the empress Eudocia, Klein
shows how the reconstruction of city walls and new building activity allowed
Eudocia to place Jerusalem at the center of the Holy Land; what is unique in
her activities is that the building and the site which it commemorates are
distinct. Katie Clark continues with the theme of religious redefinition of
space, shifting her focus to Avignon in the early fourteenth-century when the papacy
arrived. Yet whereas Klein is interested in how a person in power may redefine
a city, Clark is interested in how the changes in the cityscape affect those
not in power—specifically the citizenry. Using spatial analysis, Clark examines
the impact of the transference of the parish headquarters from St-Étienne
(appropriated by John XXII) to Ste-Marie-Madeleine by investigating testaments
from those naming St-Étienne as their home parish. Elizabeth Monti also
considers the impact of the papacy on the city of Avignon, but whereas Clark
emphasizes the divide between the papal palace and the citizens of Avignon,
Monti argues that Pope Clement VII’s building projects develop a sense of local
identity, ultimately designed to justify Avignon as the home of the papal see.
The final essay in this section turns away from the political machinations of
emperors and popes, and considers the city as a metaphor for the body. Using
the polyptych altarpieces in various churches in the city of Reval, Elina
Gertsman and Elina Räsänen show how urban spaces are endowed with religious and
political significance.
Geoff Rector begins the section entitled “Courts &
Castles” by connecting reading habits of the Anglo-Norman with emergent
architectural trends. Specifically, the development of the hall-and-chamber
style following the Norman conquest is typically seen as a defensive measure;
Rector notes that there is also parallel between the aesthetic features of
these spaces with Anglo-Norman literature; specifically, just as the historical
elite would withdraw into these chambers for conspicuous display, so too would
the heroes and heroines of Anglo-Norman romance. Nicolay Ostrau also considers
how literary figures interact with imagined spaces, particularly in terms of
expressing emotion. Comparing the French Yvain and German Iwein, Ostrau
demonstrates that while Chrétien’s romance offers a static and concrete
description of Laudine’s castle, Hartmann’s romance offers multiple
perspectives on the castle’s appearance, each one paired to specific
characters’ experience of its architectural space. Andrew Cowell shows how
walls in La Prise d’Orange reflect historical concerns with honor and
integrity; a wall must be “inhabited”—that is, “imbued with the unique social
persona of the possessor”—in order to be functional (188). Just as the literary
William is divided between an honorable front and deceptive behavior, the walls
upon which he depends become porous, resulting in his capture.
The final section jumps ahead in time to explore how ideas
of medieval place are rewritten by modern authors, and it is these three essays
which may prove to be of greatest interest to those interested in medievalism.
Joshua Davies examines two twentieth-century poems in “Re-locating Anglo-Saxon
England: Places of the Past in Basil Bunting’s Briggflatts and Geoffrey Hill’s
Mercian Hymns,” arguing that for both authors, “the sense of place collapses
temporal boundaries” (200). Davies persuasively demonstrates both authors’
debts to Anglo-Saxon poetics, including a heavy use of apposition and
compounding. Chris Jones also considers what he terms a “recycling” of
Anglo-Saxon poetry, tracing the evolving understanding of the Anglo-Saxon
poetic line through Victorian British authors to the American poet Richard Wilbur.
In particular, Wilbur’s poem “Junk” mirrors modern typographical conventions
for Anglo-Saxon poetry, as well as the rhythm; more importantly, this poem
introduces the past via a meditation on “the transience of material things”
that may be recovered and adapted (Jones 219). Jones closes his contribution
with an original poem of his own, inspired in part by the Anglo-Saxon dream
vision The Dream of the Rood. Finally, Matthew Francis addresses the difficulty
of adapting the fourteenth-century Travels of Sir John Mandeville for a modern
audience; for example, whereas Mandeville explains multiple routes throughout
the known medieval world, Francis feels the need to maintain one specific
voyage, and to provide details that would be already known to a medieval
audience but unknown to a modern one, in order to continue allowing the story
and its readers to express their wonder at the world.
It is difficult to evaluate a book with such a diverse range
of topics and approaches, but the overall array of topics and the overall
organization of the volume—particularly the movement from global to
individual—is effective in demonstrating the richness of the volume’s theme. At
the same time, the sheer number of articles limits the amount of development
that can be offered within this slender volume’s pages. As a result, some of
the essays come across as rather abrupt (most average a length of ten pages of
text). A few of the essays would benefit, too, from tighter organization and
focus (for example, Freedman’s “Locating the Exotic”—but at the same time, the
article is a wellspring of information, and the superfluousness of things
exotic may very well be intentional). In addition, illustrations and
images—including a breath-taking number of twenty color images—accompany many
of the essays, but are placed at the close of each essay rather than embedded
into the essays, making them less accessible to the reader. Of course, no doubt
this is beyond the control of the individual authors or the editors.
Perhaps the most significant critique of the volume resides
in the final section, where the shift from the medieval into modern
reinterpretations is rather abrupt. Although the editors note in their
introduction that landscape can function as a “site of memory” (xvi), the three
final essays in the collection do not fit in as well with the rest, especially
since they are so distant from the introduction and the preceding essays focus
so intently on physical spaces. Despite compelling textual analysis of the
transmission of Anglo-Saxon poetic techniques to modern poetry, these essays do
not focus enough on the volume’s theme (especially in contrast to the focused
attention to space and place in the preceding essays) despite the editors’
insistence that they “[engage] with the real and imaged places and spaces of
the medieval past” (xxi). Joshua Davies’s essay comes nearest in his closing
thoughts, noting that “locations of famous early medieval battles become modern
housing estates, as modern communities inherit the work of their forbears”
(208), but the connection to space and place nonetheless comes across as abrupt
and underdeveloped throughout these final three essays.
Although the volume is clearly intended for a scholarly
audience, the medieval enthusiast should have no problems accessing the ideas
presented therein, for the theoretical jargon (dominated, naturally, by that of
the French philosopher Gaston Bachelard) is kept to a minimum and its diverse
linguistic range of quotations from primary texts across medieval Europe are
accompanied by clear translations. Footnotes are kept to a minimum, but each
essay is supplemented by extensive lists of works cited, offering those
interested ample opportunity to pursue the topic further. Medieval French
literature (particularly the Chanson de Roland) is privileged slightly
throughout (and medieval English literature in particular in the final
section), but often the authors invoke well-known texts in order to introduce
readers to lesser-known analogues. Overall, the breadth of approaches as well
as the types of spaces and places—secular as well as religious, insular and
continental—ensures that this collection is a welcome addition to medieval
examinations of spatial arrangements, and is sure to prompt new readings of
medieval objects and texts. As the contributors ably demonstrate, focused and
sustained attention to “space” and “place” open up medieval texts—regardless of
their language, genre, or origin—to better encapsulate the complexity of that
moment in time we call the Middle Ages. It is difficult to locate, but it
perpetually fascinates us.
Kristin Bovaird-Abbo
University of Northern Colorado
