![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
hrjContinuing on with the theme of books purchased for research purposes for my novels:
Battistini, Matilde. 2004. Astrology, Magic, and Alchemy in Art. The J. Paul Getty Museum, Los Angeles. ISBN 978-0-89236-907-2
This is part of the “Guide to Imagery” series from this publisher. Something of a “cheat sheet” for art historians to works on a particular theme. (I also have the one on food and dining.) While the astrology and alchemy sections are very solid, I must say I found the “magic” chapter extremely incoherent. It also seemed to consider any sort of pagan imagery to fall under the topic of “magic”. I also ratcheted up my skepticism several notches when I looked at the commentary on Bosch’s verion of The Marriage at Cana which has inexplicably been characterized as “Black Magic”. Whoever wrote the interpretory text is unfamiliar with the roles and paraphernalia of an early 16th century banquet, for an authoritative figure in the background holding a staff is labeled “The warlock holding the magic wand is about to cast a spell” rather than being interpreted as the marshall of the hall with his staff of authority. Similarly a smallish figure presenting a cup to the bride wears a long white sash knotted baldric-style across his torso which is described as “The sash knotted around his waist [sic] is an allusion to heresy.” A more straightforward interpretation would include the conventions of towel-wearing by hall servants that are described clearly in ettiquette manuals of the time. But I digress ....
As a resource of images for alchemy and astrology, it’s quite useful (if you toss a grain of salt over the captions). As a resource of images for magic, it’s slightly better than useless.
Principe, Lawrence M. 2013. The Secrets of Alchemy. The University of Chicago Press, Chicago. ISBN 978-0-226-10379-2
I’ve been whining about “where were all these books on alchemy last year when I was doing the primary research for The Mystic Marriage? In this case, the answer is “not published yet”. There does seem to be a nebulous “interest in alchemy” front passing through, which I can only hope will be positive for the reception of my novel. This is exactly the sort of readable but solidly historical general history of the field that I was searching for. (The best I could find last year was a bit too invested in the mystical aspects for true objectivity.) This goes on my “actually read it through” list.
Kane, Tina. 2010. The Troyes Mémoire: The Making of a Medieval Tapestry. The Boydell Press, Woodbridge. ISBN 978-1-84383-570-7
One of the joys of researching a historic novel is that moment when you accidentally happen on somethign that solves a structural problem you’ve been contemplating for a while. I had an unfilled factual shape in the background information for a story two books out. I needed a profession for a singlewoman woman in 15th century Western Europe that would have given her a respectable living and some status but that she could continue to follow to some degree after “disappearing” socially. (I.e., that she could continue to engage in with someone else providing the public face.) And then I was chatting with Robin Netherton about various projects she’d been involved in lately and she mentioned this book and the idea just clicked in my brain.
This is one of those documentary survivals that is valuable in inverse relationship to the commonness of the genre, in giving us insight into the creative process for an object where normally only the finished product is available. The text is a detailed project description for a set of tapestries from the late 15th century intended for the Church of Sainte-Madeleine of Troyes. That is, the description is from that date -- the tapestries evidently were never created. The heart of the book is the original text and translation of highly specific instructions for the contents of the cartoons from which the tapestries would be woven. It specifies not simply the genres of the scenes but all the specific figures, their appearance, even down to the contents of the speech balloons coming from their mouths. This confirms a bridging profession between the commissioning of tapestries on a particular theme and the work of the artists (and then the weavers) who implemented that theme. The book also includes excerpts from the account books of the church addressing various expenses relating to other tapestries owned by the church.
Although the “author” of the tapestry design here is a man, the nature of the work strikes me as plausible for a woman of the day, particularly if associated with a family in the tapestry business. So now I have a profession for the (as yet unnamed) sister of Tanfrit the philosopher, as well as a clue to one of the industries of late medieval Alpennia. (A question that had been raised by an Interested Reader.)
Battistini, Matilde. 2004. Astrology, Magic, and Alchemy in Art. The J. Paul Getty Museum, Los Angeles. ISBN 978-0-89236-907-2
This is part of the “Guide to Imagery” series from this publisher. Something of a “cheat sheet” for art historians to works on a particular theme. (I also have the one on food and dining.) While the astrology and alchemy sections are very solid, I must say I found the “magic” chapter extremely incoherent. It also seemed to consider any sort of pagan imagery to fall under the topic of “magic”. I also ratcheted up my skepticism several notches when I looked at the commentary on Bosch’s verion of The Marriage at Cana which has inexplicably been characterized as “Black Magic”. Whoever wrote the interpretory text is unfamiliar with the roles and paraphernalia of an early 16th century banquet, for an authoritative figure in the background holding a staff is labeled “The warlock holding the magic wand is about to cast a spell” rather than being interpreted as the marshall of the hall with his staff of authority. Similarly a smallish figure presenting a cup to the bride wears a long white sash knotted baldric-style across his torso which is described as “The sash knotted around his waist [sic] is an allusion to heresy.” A more straightforward interpretation would include the conventions of towel-wearing by hall servants that are described clearly in ettiquette manuals of the time. But I digress ....
As a resource of images for alchemy and astrology, it’s quite useful (if you toss a grain of salt over the captions). As a resource of images for magic, it’s slightly better than useless.
Principe, Lawrence M. 2013. The Secrets of Alchemy. The University of Chicago Press, Chicago. ISBN 978-0-226-10379-2
I’ve been whining about “where were all these books on alchemy last year when I was doing the primary research for The Mystic Marriage? In this case, the answer is “not published yet”. There does seem to be a nebulous “interest in alchemy” front passing through, which I can only hope will be positive for the reception of my novel. This is exactly the sort of readable but solidly historical general history of the field that I was searching for. (The best I could find last year was a bit too invested in the mystical aspects for true objectivity.) This goes on my “actually read it through” list.
Kane, Tina. 2010. The Troyes Mémoire: The Making of a Medieval Tapestry. The Boydell Press, Woodbridge. ISBN 978-1-84383-570-7
One of the joys of researching a historic novel is that moment when you accidentally happen on somethign that solves a structural problem you’ve been contemplating for a while. I had an unfilled factual shape in the background information for a story two books out. I needed a profession for a singlewoman woman in 15th century Western Europe that would have given her a respectable living and some status but that she could continue to follow to some degree after “disappearing” socially. (I.e., that she could continue to engage in with someone else providing the public face.) And then I was chatting with Robin Netherton about various projects she’d been involved in lately and she mentioned this book and the idea just clicked in my brain.
This is one of those documentary survivals that is valuable in inverse relationship to the commonness of the genre, in giving us insight into the creative process for an object where normally only the finished product is available. The text is a detailed project description for a set of tapestries from the late 15th century intended for the Church of Sainte-Madeleine of Troyes. That is, the description is from that date -- the tapestries evidently were never created. The heart of the book is the original text and translation of highly specific instructions for the contents of the cartoons from which the tapestries would be woven. It specifies not simply the genres of the scenes but all the specific figures, their appearance, even down to the contents of the speech balloons coming from their mouths. This confirms a bridging profession between the commissioning of tapestries on a particular theme and the work of the artists (and then the weavers) who implemented that theme. The book also includes excerpts from the account books of the church addressing various expenses relating to other tapestries owned by the church.
Although the “author” of the tapestry design here is a man, the nature of the work strikes me as plausible for a woman of the day, particularly if associated with a family in the tapestry business. So now I have a profession for the (as yet unnamed) sister of Tanfrit the philosopher, as well as a clue to one of the industries of late medieval Alpennia. (A question that had been raised by an Interested Reader.)
