Monday, July 14, 2014
Monday, July 7, 2014
.png)
.png)
.png)
Thursday, July 3, 2014
Sonnes of Aymon (and the date of the apocalypse)
| STC # | 1010 |
| Author | Aymon |
| Title | The right plesaunt and goodly historie of the four sonnes of Aimon |
| Translator | |
| Folding | 2 |
| Location of imprint | |
| Printer | Copland, William |
| Publisher | Petet, Thomas |
| Bookseller | |
| ESTC url | http://estc.bl.uk/S106636 |
| EEBO url | http://gateway.proquest.com/openurl?ctx_ver=Z39.88-2003&res_id=xri:eebo&rft_id=xri:eebo:citation:99842349 |
| Year | 1554 |
| Library UK | British Library, Cambridge University Library, Guildhall Library, National Library of Wales, Oxford University |
| Library US | Huntington Library, Pierpont Morgan Library |
| Shelfmark | Bodleian Douce V 42 |
| Dimensions and positions of images | 102 x 137 , tp ; unknown , C6v ; unknown, D1r ; unknown, D3v ; unknown, E2r ; unknown, E2r ; unknown, F6v left; unknown, G5r ; unknown, H6v ; unknown, K2r ; unknown, L1v ; unknown, N5v ; unknown, P2v ; 70 x 75 , Q5r ; 96 x 90 , R4v ; unknown, S5r ; unknown, T3r ; unknown, X1v ; unknown, X2r ; unknown, Z2v ; unknown, &1r ; unknown, a5v ; unknown, d1v |
| Luborsky and Ingram notes | See the note "Romances" preceding STC 804. ["The illustrative pattern in romances and in what can loosely be called old tales differs markedly and in several ways from that seen in other kinds of secular books. The most signal feature is the predominance of old images, some dating from the previous century, many from the first decade of the sixteenth century. Most of these are printed from the original blocks catalogued by Hodnett, or as their copies or adaptations, as detailed in Appendix 1. Almost all the other images are so similar stylistically to cuts catalogued by Hodnett that they seem to belong to the same large family. The visual impact fo these cuts is heightened by their repetitions and reuses, practices more flagrant for romances than for any other genre. The romance cuts are often buttressed by factotums, those ubiquitous blocks described by Hodnett as "small figures of men and women, trees and buildings, usually borderless," deriving from a fifteenth-century edition of Terence. Usually printed as decorations and identified variously, they can also function as meaningful images. Thus, to illustrate a text about a woman watching a battle in a forest, the printer will place a factotum depicting a tree on one side of a battle scene and a factotum depicting a woman on another. In the same way, printers of romances often create a visual narrative by juxtaposing two cuts, again a practice seldom seen in other genres. [R.S.L.]"] This edition of a popular romance relates the deeds of Charlemagne, Roland, and Oliver. It is illustrated mainly with reuses of Hodnett cuts, including six that appeared in the previous edition of 1505 (STC 1008), signaled by an asterisk in the listing. Each cut is printed at the beginning of a chapter, except for the one on the title page. Its design is based on the one in Les quatre fils Aymon (Lyons: Jean de Vingle, 1493). An additional explanation prefaces cut 5. For Hodnett cuts, see Appendix 1. Twenty-three cuts in thirty-five occurrences. [R.S.L.] |
| Number of original cuts | 23 ? |
| Image re-uses | STC 24571.7 ; STC 807 |
| Similar editions | STC 1008 |
| Genre | Romance |
| Tropes | Knights, courtiers, battle, horses, soldier, castle, pilgrim, hermitage, fountain |
This is the story of a surprise. When I first called this book, I was interested in the re-use of illustrations in romances. This edition from 1554 evidently re-uses 1505 woodblocks, and the worm-holes bear the evidence of that. So we begin the story with a long history.
The illustrations in this edition appear to be a product of thrift. One pair of woodcuts (depicting two lines of knights in battle) appears in nearly every binary configuration. First they're back-to-back, then the left and right lines appear individually, and then they appear at war at last. The other illustrations follow the same logic: they appear as often as possible, in as many combinations as possible. So it makes sense that William Copland and Thomas Petet would re-use woodcuts that are a half-century old.
The other side of this long history is reader reception. Obviously, I'm viewing this book in 2014, some 560 years after it was printed. And others have read it in the intervening time.
I believe I found evidence that one reader calculated the date of the apocalypse in the margins of this book. On page z1r, the only marginal note in this copy appears to be in English secretarial hand (though I'm very uncertain of that). An annotator is multiplying quantities. The first calculation multiplies "years" 1668 by 365, and the second calculation multiplies 608820 by hours, then minutes.
I know from past reading that 1660, 1666, 1667, and even 1668 were candidates for the date of the apocalypse in early modern England. That's the main evidence I'm drawing on to support this claim. Save for eschatology, I can't imagine why an early modern English reader would calculate the number of minutes until the end of the year 1668.
My subsequent question is whether this annotator made this calculation before, during, or after 1668. There are some very darkened page-edges in this volume. I believe that they have been smoked in a fire. But the margins with the calculation have no apparent damage. In view of that fortunate placement, I believe it's more likely that that marginal spot was chosen after, not before, the smoke damage.
So here's my narrative: this book survived the great fire, and after fleeing from London, its owner tried to calculate whether the minutes, hours, or days until 1668 supported the view that the Great Fire presaged the End of Days. Then again, that places a lot of belief on a small amount of evidence.
The content of the page only vaguely supports the apocalyptic interpretation of this annotation. In this chivalric tale, one brother "Reynawd" takes offense at the words of his brother "Alard," and begins to plot the murder of "Bayard," but when he hears that Bayard's family is dying of hunger, Reynawd instead chooses to have himself bled. He bleeds over many days, to a point near death. At the moment of his greatest weakness, he meets an old man who promises to show the people in a castle a way out: under the earth, and into the forest of Ardennes, where there is said to be a serpent. I can't really make heads or tails of this, without having read the rest of the narrative in full. But thematically, it seems to vaguely resemble a narrative of Christ--Christ as the pelican, piercing his own breast for bloody sustenance--who is then transported to the new kingdom. Then again, "Christ typology" is the easiest reading in the world, especially the early modern world.
The illustrations in this edition appear to be a product of thrift. One pair of woodcuts (depicting two lines of knights in battle) appears in nearly every binary configuration. First they're back-to-back, then the left and right lines appear individually, and then they appear at war at last. The other illustrations follow the same logic: they appear as often as possible, in as many combinations as possible. So it makes sense that William Copland and Thomas Petet would re-use woodcuts that are a half-century old.
The other side of this long history is reader reception. Obviously, I'm viewing this book in 2014, some 560 years after it was printed. And others have read it in the intervening time.
I believe I found evidence that one reader calculated the date of the apocalypse in the margins of this book. On page z1r, the only marginal note in this copy appears to be in English secretarial hand (though I'm very uncertain of that). An annotator is multiplying quantities. The first calculation multiplies "years" 1668 by 365, and the second calculation multiplies 608820 by hours, then minutes.
I know from past reading that 1660, 1666, 1667, and even 1668 were candidates for the date of the apocalypse in early modern England. That's the main evidence I'm drawing on to support this claim. Save for eschatology, I can't imagine why an early modern English reader would calculate the number of minutes until the end of the year 1668.
My subsequent question is whether this annotator made this calculation before, during, or after 1668. There are some very darkened page-edges in this volume. I believe that they have been smoked in a fire. But the margins with the calculation have no apparent damage. In view of that fortunate placement, I believe it's more likely that that marginal spot was chosen after, not before, the smoke damage.
So here's my narrative: this book survived the great fire, and after fleeing from London, its owner tried to calculate whether the minutes, hours, or days until 1668 supported the view that the Great Fire presaged the End of Days. Then again, that places a lot of belief on a small amount of evidence.
The content of the page only vaguely supports the apocalyptic interpretation of this annotation. In this chivalric tale, one brother "Reynawd" takes offense at the words of his brother "Alard," and begins to plot the murder of "Bayard," but when he hears that Bayard's family is dying of hunger, Reynawd instead chooses to have himself bled. He bleeds over many days, to a point near death. At the moment of his greatest weakness, he meets an old man who promises to show the people in a castle a way out: under the earth, and into the forest of Ardennes, where there is said to be a serpent. I can't really make heads or tails of this, without having read the rest of the narrative in full. But thematically, it seems to vaguely resemble a narrative of Christ--Christ as the pelican, piercing his own breast for bloody sustenance--who is then transported to the new kingdom. Then again, "Christ typology" is the easiest reading in the world, especially the early modern world.
Tuesday, July 1, 2014
Ruth Samson Luborsky on Romances
"The illustrative pattern in romances and in what can loosely be called old tales differs markedly and in several ways from that seen in other kinds of secular books. The most signal feature is the predominance of old images, some dating from the previous century, many from the first decade of the sixteenth century. Most of these are printed from the original blocks catalogued by Hodnett, or as their copies or adaptations, as detailed in Appendix 1. Almost all the other images are so similar stylistically to cuts catalogued by Hodnett that they seem to belong to the same large family. The visual impact fo these cuts is heightened by their repetitions and reuses, practices more flagrant for romances than for any other genre. The romance cuts are often buttressed by factotums, those ubiquitous blocks described by Hodnett as "small figures of men and women, trees and buildings, usually borderless," deriving from a fifteenth-century edition of Terence. Usually printed as decorations and identified variously, they can also function as meaningful images. Thus, to illustrate a text about a woman watching a battle in a forest, the printer will place a factotum depicting a tree on one side of a battle scene and a factotum depicting a woman on another. In the same way, printers of romances often create a visual narrative by juxtaposing two cuts, again a practice seldom seen in other genres. [R.S.L.]"
Ruth Samson Luborsky, from the Guide to English Illustrated Books, p. 31-32
Ruth Samson Luborsky, from the Guide to English Illustrated Books, p. 31-32
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)