Showing posts with label intentional humour. Show all posts
Showing posts with label intentional humour. Show all posts

Saturday, 12 June 2021

Leap Before You Think

I was obsessed with the game Okami for a significant chunk of my childhood. It had everything: wolves; mythology but not Greek or Egyptian; dry humour; beautiful stylised art; gameplay that was challenging but accessible to an eight year-old; women with huge badonkahoongas who turn into murderous foxes; being on the Wii so I could actually play it; a story that made me cry; wolves; women who no, seriously, really gave me a challenge for my sexuality at eight years old...

I was. Obsessed. With it. I played it again a few years ago on the PS4 remaster, and it fully withstood the test of time. It was equally as fun then as eight, ten, twelve years before. And thinking about it, my obsession then opened up so many doors to what would come in my life later. Before Okami, my internet usage was limited to Webkinz, Club Penguin, and Neopets. My desperation to consume more of the game than the game itself had to offer led to googling pictures from the game, which led to looking at fanart of the game, which led to deviantART, which I joined (with parent permission, to be fair) at the tender age of ten.
The internet was a much more lawless place then; before five big media corporations owned every website and it was all about social media, forums and small home-grown websites grew their own jungles. The other huge impact on my internet usage was Warrior Cats (much the same story, except it led to writing RP forums rather than dA), but specifically I was thinking about it earlier, and. Well. Maybe I'd have made my way there on my own eventually, but I joined dA well before the existence (or at least, the spread in my age group) of Tumblr or Facebook, and connected with millions of people and hundreds of communities, for ah, good and ill. I was exposed to things I shouldn't have been, but eh, that builds character. I knew enough to keep myself mostly safe and when to click off things I didn't like. Nothing had content warnings or age barriers or tags in those days, y'know.
My writing itself was heavily influenced by those forums that all came from Warrior Cats obsession, but I would never have progressed remotely as far as I did with my art or other parts of my writing if it weren't for deviantART. I'd never have written The Red Prince if it weren't for the art I did alongside it. I'd never have finished writing Seeking, the first novel I published, if it weren't for the small community of writers on dA that inspired me and gave constant feedback and encouragement, and I'd never have published it if not for them, and the same for Each Separate Dying Ember, and while I stopped posting my stories chapter-by-chapter online after that and left dA behind for good, I'd never have written or published Sylvestus without those.

And for me, it all goes back to typing Oki and Amaterasu into Google Images every single day, and following the link on one of the paintings there, and ending up in this mysterious world where people made art and other people looked at it and everything opened up ahead of me.

But there's another way Okami has stuck with me all these years, other than a general fondness and whatever latent effect childhood obsessions have on adult personality.
The wolf/sun goddess you play as, Amaterasu, has a very small companion, Issun, a wandering artist and moderate lecher, who provides all of the dialogue for the non-verbal Ammy (with his own twist, and sometimes in opposition to what she actually wants). One of his catchphrases was a surprising balm to a kid with severe anxiety: uttered on the several occasions where you are required to quite literally take a leap of faith into the next area (into the lair of Orochi the Eight-headed Serpent, or (after being shrunk down to Issun's size) into the throat of the sleeping emperor, or straight off a cliff into the ocean), he would spend a few moments airing his anxieties and bemoaning how he was too young and handsome to die, and then shrug and say:
"Like my momma always said... Leap before you think!"

It was a neat way of resolving his internal dilemmas of this mildly selfish yet equally reckless character, while also convincing kids playing the game that it was okay to mess up or jump off the edge of the map and just see what happens. The game also rewarded those leaps with beautiful graphics and a certain joyous flourish, an immediate reward for your courage: never a tough boss battle without some spectacular landscape and quick comedy first.
It's a simple mantra, and I still pull it out - I have since I first played the game too many years ago. I'm not at all that impulsive when it comes to the important things - I'm careful with money, I spend months or years planning and debating tattoos, I'm good at carefully planning a trip or a move or a big purchase - but equally I've learned to enjoy the spontaneity in things too. Get on the back of a motorbike with no helmet going 60 mph through Marrakech morning traffic, leap before you think! Make that scary phone call you've been putting off for three months right now with no script or planning, leap before you think! Drop everything and go and visit your friend who's in a bad mental place right now, leap before you think!
Some things you can build up and debate over for months, thinking and building ladders and establishing timelines and drafting plans. You can save money by booking early, you can avoid disappointment by preparing in advance, you can manage your expectations by doing research. But so many things in life will always, in the end, be a massive hole in the ground that leads straight down into the dark with noxious purple smoke pouring out of it. There's no other way into Orochi's lair. You can go around it a few times to be sure and stock up on health-restoring bones and equip your favourite weapon, but if you keep thinking about it, you're just going to be walking around the edge hesitating until he awakens and destroys the whole of Nippon.

Sometimes you have to shrug, kick off your shoes, and mutter, "Leap before you think," to yourself.
 
Join the art website that will change your life, giving you new skills, many years of anxiety and negative social interactions, and the motivation to follow your dreams and publish your books. Press the "finalise publication" button even though people might not like the book and it might get bad reviews and there might be typos you missed and once you do this you'll start losing Sylv again. Walk onto that stage and perform the poem that will officially excise you from the good graces of people who want you to keep your mouth shut about the things they did to you.
Make that phone call.

Are you standing at the edge of a new area today?

[Image ID: a screenshot of the original Okami game, showing a blurry gameplay screen of Amaterasu, a white wolf with red markings and a fiery shield on her back, looking over the edge of cliff. Below is a historical Japanese village and beyond it, the ocean. All of the artwork is in a traditional Japanese style as if painted with ink and brush. End ID]

Wednesday, 22 July 2020

A Spiritual Connection to Pliny the Elder

There's a recurring joke in Vol II which is extremely specific and probably only relevant to about six people in the world who will get it, but damn if it doesn't make me happy, so I'm fighting to keep it in. I'm not gonna... Like, if I was just gonna talk about what it means, I should wait until it's at least published, but I wanted to talk about Pliny the Elder today, so I guess what I'm saying is that this was a sh*tty intro to excuse talking about him on my writing blog.

It started with Sawbones:



This is, specifically, the Pliny the Elder episode, but he gets brought up almost every episode, because it's a medical history podcast and he wrote a lot about medicine. A lot. Except like, ancient Roman medicine, which gets kinda buck-f*ck-wild. And, it turns out, not just medicine, but zoology, geography, philosophy... The Natural History was supposed to cover the existence and history of the entire world, and damn if he wasn't going to give it his all.
It started when I was writing Vol II and thought, I love inserting discrete real historical details into these novels; I should find some real ancient Roman treatments for some of the stuff that happens to Sylv and his associates, and slip it in there as worldbuilding. It was the kind of research rabbit hole I avoided when I first started writing him, so in the original draft and to a degree in Vol I, everything is extremely vague; all medicines are simply referred to as "tonics", any kind of anaesthesia as "vitiation", wounds treated with "foul-smelling poultices". But since then, I've gotten really into medical history through Sawbones. I enjoy the challenge of balancing an interesting fantasy world with the real minutiae of ancient Rome, and this was such an opportunity - and most importantly, I had an in to begin my research. As someone who dropped history in year nine, I really struggle to research related topics in the same way I can confidently find reliable sources for science things; I have a collection of books on Roman culture and Latin, and details such as the Roman beliefs on the afterlife can be pulled fairly easily from the internet, but generally I am not confident researching historical fact. But I knew that the full works of Gaius Plinius Secundus, aka Pliny the Elder, a real Roman, err, scholar?, were available online, and it doesn't get much more reliable than a primary source.
You can search "Pliny the Elder [medical condition]" on a search engine and easily be taken to his writings on that topic - and he probably wrote on that topic, whatever it is - and for a while that's what I did, dutifully inserting into Sylvestus his confident cures for blindness, broken bones, and fever. From my understanding, his works were considered by his peers to be dependable and his writings were well-respected, and though we cannot know for certain whether they really believed that putting a live lizard in a small wooden box under one's pillow cured fever, I consider it my tribute to Dr. Sydnee McElroy to mention it. And given that people nowadays readily believe that melting a candle inside one's ear draws out the evil humours- sorry, toxins, I'm pretty confident they were willing to give anything a try. Further, I was overjoyed to discover that Pliny the Elder was writing and publishing at the time Sylv was around. My shameless headcanons had a basis in history... Kinda.

But I got curious, and perhaps that was my downfall. Why stop reading at just what I needed? I spotted a tab that seemed relevant to my interests in natural history, and then... Well, then it kind of took over my life for about four hours. It would have been a lot longer, but I had to bail at that point or I'd have attempted to read all 37 books of The Natural History in one night.
I banned myself from it for a few weeks, only to fall down the vortex again the next time I needed his advice on what a Roman would think of a tiger. And then again, when someone asked me whether Sylv would know the difference between a moth and a butterfly.

Reading The Natural History drives me f*cking insane, but it's hard to pin down why. So, I decided to put my growing obsession to good use, and try to categorise my highlights of Pliny the Elder's interpretations of... Everything.
For reference, here is where I'm getting all of these from. To be entirely honest, I feel at this point as though I owe this website part of my life-force.

First: from the dedication in the first book, PLINIUS SECUNDUS TO HIS FRIEND TITUS VESPASIAN.
"... all this you have done for the service of the Republic, and, at the same time, have regarded me as a fellow-soldier and a messmate. Nor has the extent of your prosperity produced any change in you, except that it has given you the power of doing good to the utmost of your wishes. And whilst all these circumstances increase the veneration which other persons feel for you, with respect to myself, they have made me so bold, as to wish to become more familiar. You must, therefore, place this to your own account, and blame yourself for any fault of this kind that I may commit. But, although I have laid aside my blushes, I have not gained my object; for you still awe me, and keep me at a distance, by the majesty of your understanding."
Y'all. Y'all. I do not have a heterosexual explanation for this. I do not accept one. Gaius Plinius Secundus had a biiig home of sexual crush on his best friend the emperor's son, and dedicated his 37 books to him and his "fertility of genius". That's one I only discovered today, but I love it very much.

There are four books with ~40 chapters each called AN ACCOUNT OF COUNTRIES, NATIONS, SEAS, TOWNS, HAVENS, MOUNTAINS, RIVERS, DISTANCES, AND PEOPLES WHO NOW EXIST, OR FORMERLY EXISTED. I'd make fun of how many books he spent on it, but to be fair he's attempting to categorise like, everyone in the world, and I dig the dedication. I have not really touched these books beyond checking in on places such as Macedonia and Syria which are mentioned in Sylvestus, because geography bores the hell out of me. If ur curious, the link is right up there.

"The nature of the animated beings which exist upon [the world], is hardly in any degree less worthy of our contemplation than its other features; if, indeed, the human mind is able to embrace the whole of so diversified a subject. Our first attention is justly due to Man, for whose sake all other things appear to have been produced by Nature; though, on the other hand, with so great and so severe penalties for the enjoyment of her bounteous gifts, that it is far from easy to determine, whether she has proved to him a kind parent, or a merciless step-mother.

In the first place, she obliges him alone, of all animated beings, to clothe himself with the spoils of the others; while, to all the rest, she has given various kinds of coverings, such as shells, crusts, spines, hides, furs, bristles, hair, down, feathers, scales, and fleeces. The very trunks of the trees even, she has protected against the effects of heat and cold by a bark, which is, in some cases, twofold. Man alone, at the very moment of his birth cast naked upon the laked earth, does she abandon to cries, to lamentations, and, a thing that is the case with no other animal whatever, to tears: this, too, from the very moment that he enters upon existence. But as for laughter, why, by Hercules!—to laugh, if but for an instant only, has never been granted to man before the fortieth day from his birth, and then it is looked upon as a miracle of precocity. Introduced thus to the light, man has fetters and swathings instantly put upon all his limbs, a thing that falls to the lot of none of the brutes even that are born among us. Born to such singular good fortune, there lies the animal, which is destined to command all the others, lies, fast bound hand and foot, and weeping aloud! such being the penalty which he has to pay on beginning life, and that for the sole fault of having been born. Alas! for the folly of those who can think after such a beginning as this, that they have been born for the display of vanity!

... Other animals, in fine, live at peace with those of their own kind; we only see them unite to make a stand against those of a different species. The fierceness of the lion is not expended in fighting with its own kind; the sting of the serpent is not aimed at the serpent; and the monsters of the sea even, and the fishes, vent their rage only on those of a different species. But with man,—by Hercules! most of his misfortunes are occasioned by man."

This is one of the first chapters that really stuck out to me. Given that I was introduced to Pliny the Elder as "ancient man who wrote funny and wild things about medicine", I was unprepared for the sheer degree of philosophy in this chapter. There's something poetic and beautiful to me about the way in which he approaches the same hypocrisy of existence so many others have written around. "Born to such singular good fortune, there lies the animal, which is destined to command all the others, lies, fast bound hand and foot, and weeping aloud! such being the penalty which he has to pay on beginning life, and that for the sole fault of having been born." We may now know that rats laugh when tickled, that animals feel joy and pain as much as humans, that their tears and laughter are simply expressed differently, but I am nonetheless drawn to his description of "Man alone, at the very moment of his birth cast naked upon the laked earth, does she abandon to cries".

The chapter MARVELLOUS BIRTHS. is,, not great for a lot of things, mostly in being understandably offensive with regards to disabled, intersex, and non-Roman people, but I am gently intrigued by the way in which he challenges that it's very unlikely triplets could be born, then a paragraph later confidently declares:

"Also, Alcippe was delivered of an elephant—but then that must be looked upon as a prodigy; as in the case, too, where, at the commencement of the Marsian war, a female slave was delivered of a serpent."

Okay! That's wild! Thank-you, ser!

Given the questionable nature of many of the "monsters" described in MARVELLOUS BIRTHS., I was hesitant to engage with MONSTROUS BIRTHS., which comes a few chapters later. But fear not! It's actually an entire chapter about a guy named Marcus Agrippa, who was the only person ever to be born feet-first and survive.

"And yet, even he may be considered to have paid the penalty of the unfavourable omen produced by the unnatural mode of his birth, in the unfortunate weakness of his legs, the misfortunes of his youth, a life spent in the very midst of arms and slaughter, and ever exposed to the approaches of death; in his children, too, who have all proved a very curse to the earth, and more especially, the two Agrippinas, who were the mothers respectively of Caius and of Domitius Nero, so many firebrands hurled among the human race. In addition to all this, we may add the shortness of his life, he being cut off in his fifty-first year, the distress which he experienced from the adulteries of his wife, and the grievous tyranny to which he was subjected by his father-in-law."

Amazing!

The chapter SOME ACCOUNT OF THE TEETH, AND SOME FACTS CONCERNING INFANTS has me utterly enthralled, because of the surprisingly astute observations regarding teeth, interspersed by entirely wild claims out of left-field.

"The teeth are the only parts of the body which resist the action of fire, and are not consumed along with the rest of it. Still, however, though they are able thus to resist flame, they become corroded by a morbid state of the saliva. The teeth are whitened by certain medicinal agents. They are worn down by use, and fail in some persons long before any other part of the body. They are necessary, not only for the mastication of the food, but for many other purposes as well. It is the office of the front teeth to regulate the voice and the speech; by a certain arrangement, they receive, as if in concert, the stroke communicated by the tongue, while by their structure in such regular order, and their size, they cut short, moderate, or soften the utterance of the words ...  Women have fewer teeth than men. Those females who happen to have two canine teeth on the right side of the upper jaw, have promise of being the favourites of fortune, as was the case with Agrippina, the mother of Domitius Nero: when they are on the left side, it is just the contrary."

I... I don't know how to explain my fascination with the person who knew how teeth were important in forming words and chewing food, and described it so extensively, yet also with utter confidence declared that women have fewer teeth than men. I mean, had he looked in a woman's mouth? Did he hear it somewhere and decide to believe it and write it down? Did he not check?? I'm fascinated.

SOME REMARKABLE PROPERTIES OF THE BODY. has me flipping out again, predictably. Why?

"We find it stated, that there are some men whose bones are solid, and devoid of marrow, and that one mark of such persons is the fact that they are never thirsty, and emit no perspiration. At the same time, we know that by the exercise of a resolute determination, any one may resist the feeling of thirst; a fact which was especially exemplified in the case of Julius Viator, a Roman of equestrian rank, but by birth one of the Vocontii, a nation on terms of alliance with us. Having, in his youth, been attacked by dropsy, and forbidden the use of liquids by his physicians, use with him became a second nature, and so, in his old age, he never took any drink at all. Other persons also, have, by the exercise of a strong determination, laid similar restraints upon themselves."

It's just not true! Why did he think it was true!! He much later states that humans die without food after seven days but he thought they could go their entire lives without water! What!

The Roman orators had some insanely impressive memory tricks, so I find myself hesitating over his chapter MEMORY. - because... This sounds ridiculous, surely?

"King Cyrus knew all the soldiers of his army by name: L. Scipio the names of all the Roman people. Cineas, the ambassador of king Pyrrhus, knew by name all the members of the senate and the equestrian order, the day after his arrival at Rome. Mithridates, who was king of twenty-two nations, administered their laws in as many languages, and could harangue each of them, without employing an interpreter. There was in Greece a man named Charmidas, who, when a person asked him for any book in a library, could repeat it by heart, just as though he were reading."

... But what if it isn't? I hate that I almost believe him. I'm becoming indoctrinated to Pliny the Elder's bullsh*t.

This next one fascinates me just by chapter names. I am not going to read all of them, as much as I want to.

Here's the thing! He's like... Listing the best people (we're still in the book about man and his organisation and stuff). The fact that the most notable people he wanted to dedicate chapters to were MEN OF REMARKABLE GENIUS, MEN WHO HAVE BEEN REMARKABLE FOR WISDOM, THE MAN WHO WAS PRONOUNCED TO BE THE MOST EXCELLENT, and THE MOST CHASTE MATRONS, shortly followed by SLAVES FOR WHICH A HIGH PRICE HAS BEEN GIVEN... I'm obsessed with this list. Those were the people he considered most important to Rome.

So of course, when I saw that immediately after was SUPREME HAPPINESS., I of course had to know what he considered to be the greatest happiness ever experienced by a human. Except it isn't! Because immediately follow a chapter entitled MEN WHOM THE GODS HAVE PRONOUNCED TO BE THE MOST HAPPY.! With regards to supreme happiness, though, he dips back into that philosophy that drives me insane.

"The human judgment cannot, however, possibly decide what man has enjoyed the highest degree of happiness, seeing that every one defines a state of prosperity in a way different from another, and entirely in conformity with his own notions. If we wish to form a true judgment and come to a decision, casting aside all the allurements and illusions of fortune, we are bound to say that no mortal is happy. Fortune has dealt well, and, indeed, indulgently, to him who feels that he has a right to say that he is not unhappy. For if there is nothing else, at all events, there is the fear lest fortune should fail at last; which fear itself, when it has once fastened upon us, our happiness is no longer unalloyed."

S E R ?

Okay. All of that was just from one book. Which is a very good book. But not even my favourite! Buckle up...

THE NATURE OF THE TERRESTRIAL ANIMALS brings us right into my territory. I have a BSc in Zoology. I could not contain my excitement the first time I came across this book. Y'all, the first twelve chapters of this book are about elephants. Pliny loved elephants. The fourth chapter is even called WONDERFUL THINGS WHICH HAVE BEEN DONE BY AN ELEPHANT. - Pliny is a white eighteen year-old girl on a gap year in Thailand paid for by her parents. He spent thirty chapters on the entire human race, and twelve on elephants. And if you were curious, as I am, what wonderful things Pliny thinks have been done by an elephant?

"Hence it is that, when their tusks have fallen off, either by accident or from old age, they bury them in the earth."

... Do they, Pliny? Do they?

"When they are surrounded by the hunters, they place those in front which have the smallest teeth, that the enemy may think that the spoil is not worth the combat; and afterwards, when they are weary of resistance, they break off their teeth, by dashing them against a tree, and in this manner pay their ransom."

He's saying that elephants know their tusks are what hunters want from them so they sacrifice their children to them then smash their own tusks on trees when they lose the fight rather than be taken. He sounds so admiring of the elephants' honour and battle wits. I don't have the heart to mock him.

Okay, so, twelve chapters about elephants, what animal did Pliny consider the next most important for his book?

DRAGONS.

"Æthiopia produces dragons, not so large as those of India, but still, twenty cubits in length. The only thing that surprises me is, how Juba came to believe that they have crests. The Æthiopians are known as the Asachæi, among whom they most abound; and we are told, that on those coasts four or five of them are found twisted and interlaced together like so many osiers in a hurdle, and thus setting sail, with their heads erect, they are borne along upon the waves, to find better sources of nourishment in Arabia."

That's the whole chapter. Five dragons curl up together and use their crests to sail to Arabia. Okay.

Similarly, on SERPENTS OF REMARKABLE SIZE.:

"The serpents which in Italy are known by the name of boa, render these accounts far from incredible, for they grow to such a vast size, that a child was found entire in the stomach of one of them, which was killed on the Vaticanian Hill during the reign of the Emperor Claudius."

The biggest snake indigenous to Italy is the four-lined snake, which at a push can approach 7 ft long. The largest thing they can eat is small rabbits and they are non-aggressive. But, then, the Romans did a lot of exploring; they brought tigers into Rome, is it so hard to imagine that they shipped in a real boa only to lose track of it in the city, like the alligators which supposedly infest New York's sewers after being flushed away by ill-equipped exotic pet owners in small apartments? I like to think it was the case. Don't engage with inhumane exotic pet trade, kids.

There then follow two chapters about all of the species of deer, elk, etc., and then five on lions (including, to my delight, the phrase "inflamed with a strong desire to become acquainted with the natures of animals"), including WONDERFUL FEATS PERFORMED BY A LION.:

"In the same manner, too, Elpis, a native of Samos, on landing from a vessel on the coast of Africa, observed a lion near the beach, opening his mouth in a threatening manner; upon which he climbed a tree, in the hope of escaping, while, at the same time, he invoked the aid of Father Liber; for it is the appropriate time for invocations when there is no room left for hope. The wild beast did not pursue him as he fled, although he might easily have done so; but, lying down at the foot of the tree, by the open mouth which had caused so much terror, tried to excite his compassion. A bone, while he was devouring his food with too great avidity, had stuck fast between his teeth, and he was perishing with hunger; such being the punishment inflicted upon him by his own weapons, every now and then he would look up and supplicate him, as it were, with mute entreaties. Elpis, not wishing to risk trusting himself to so formidable a beast, remained stationary for some time, more at last from astonishment than from fear. At length, however, he descended from the tree and extracted the bone, the lion in the meanwhile extending his head, and aiding in the operation as far as it was necessary for him to do. The story goes on to say, that as long as the vessel remained off that coast, the lion showed his sense of gratitude by bringing whatever he had chanced to procure in the chase."

I want to believe it. I want to believe it so badly. It literally reads like a Dodo story about a dog and a goat becoming best friends.

Shortly after comes TIGERS: WHEN FIRST SEEN AT ROME; THEIR NATURE. Given the content of Sylvestus, obviously I had to check it out. Unfortunately, it's just a description of some quietly disturbing animal abuse and the claim that tigers are extremely fast. So then I tried THE RHINOCEROS. because that had to be interesting, right? Well, apparently:

"This too is another natural-born enemy of the elephant."

And I'm like, wait, what's the other natural-born enemy of the elephant? So I did some digging back, and sure enough, back in the extensive elephant section:

"But it is India that produces the largest, as well as the dragon, which is perpetually at war with the elephant, and is itself of so enormous a size, as easily to envelope the elephants with its folds, and encircle them in its coils. The contest is equally fatal to both; the elephant, vanquished, falls to the earth, and by its weight, crushes the dragon which is entwined around it."

Listen. Listen. I know by "dragon" he just means "big snake". But please. I'm so fascinated by what it must have been like inside this man's head. Every chapter reads like Aesop's fables or a Rudyard Kipling book.

It gets even better in THE LYNX, THE SPHINX, THE CROCOTTA, AND THE MONKEY.:

"Æthiopia produces the lynx in abundance, and the sphinx, which has brown hair and two mammæ on the breast, as well as many monstrous kinds of a similar nature; horses with wings, and armed with horns, which are called pegasi; the crocotta, an animal which looks as though it had been produced by the union of the wolf and the dog, for it can break any thing with its teeth, and instantly on swallowing it digest it with the stomach; monkeys, too, with black heads, the hair of the ass, and a voice quite unlike that of any other animal."

Interestingly, the footnotes for this chapter note that the sphinx was probably a monkey, with a human-like face and breasts, a thick mane of hair, and a tail. And that... Actually makes sense. I'm kind of shook about it. No forgiveness for the winged horned horses tho.

In WOLVES; THE ORIGIN OF THE STORY OF VERSIPELLIS, Pliny the Elder makes another, ahh, bold claim:

"That men have been turned into wolves, and again restored to their original form, we must confidently look upon as untrue, unless, indeed, we are ready to believe all the tales, which, for so many ages, have been found to be fabulous."

OH OKAY SURE, PEGASI, THOSE ARE A THING, WOLVES CAN STEAL MEN'S VOICES WITH THEIR "NOXIOUS EYES", BUT WEREWOLVES? NOOO, THAT'S BULLSHIT.

There's a total of 84 chapters in TERRESTRIAL ANIMALS. and we're still fairly early in the 37 volumes, so after this point I become a little more choosy with my chapters, because while I could definitely sit here for four solid days creating a thorough essay on the complete Natural History, neither of us wants that. But NATIONS THAT HAVE BEEN EXTERMINATED BY ANIMALS.? Oh, we have to check that out.

"M. Varro informs us, that a town in Spain was undermined by rabbits, and one in Thessaly, by mice; that the inhabitants of a district in Gaul were driven from their country by frogs."

AMAZING. Thank-you, Pliny, for this mental image.

HEDGEHOGS.? Don't mind if I do.

"Hedgehogs also lay up food for the winter; rolling themselves on apples as they lie on the ground, they pierce one with their quills, and then take up another in the mouth, and so carry them into the hollows of trees."

Best mental image. Thank-you again, ser, for my life.

There's a few chapters on dogs and horses, to fulfil the Romans' tax for their love of these animals, but it's clear that Pliny cares for them far less than he did for elephants. Moving onto THE NATURAL HISTORY OF FISHES., and in particular my new favourite chapter title, OTHER WONDERFUL THINGS RELATING TO DOLPHINS. Man loves elephants and dolphins! He's literally a teenage girl, I'm obsessed!

"Dolphins, also, form among themselves a sort of general community. One of them having been captured by a king of Caria and chained up in the harbour, great multitudes of dolphins assembled at the spot, and with signs of sorrow which could not be misunderstood, appealed to the sympathies of the people, until at last the king ordered it to be released."

Oh, that's... That's actually true. The community and empathy part, not sure about the king releasing a dolphin cos the others cried at him. The juxtaposition of Pliny's accurate accounts and his very sincere bullsh*t are a huge part of what appeals to me about these books.

For instance, please, Pliny, do tell me HOW MANY KINDS OF FISH THERE ARE.

"There are seventy-four species of fishes."

Okay!

... So close, bud. You were real close.

I did an entire dissertation on the pearl mussel, so I'm real fascinated to see what Pliny thinks of PEARLS; HOW THEY ARE PRODUCED AND WHERE.

"The origin and production of the shell-fish is not very different from that of the shell of the oyster. When the genial season of the year exercises its influence on the animal, it is said that, yawning, as it were, it opens its shell, and so receives a kind of dew, by means of which it becomes impregnated; and that at length it gives birth, after many struggles, to the burden of its shell, in the shape of pearls, which vary according to the quality of the dew."

I am... Actually impressed that he, knew that pearls are produced by oysters, and knew that oysters are animals. And tbh, I prefer this explanation to my 6000 word report on the parasitism of pearl mussel glochidia on the gills of fish, so I might just try to believe it.

Next up, THE NATURAL HISTORY OF BIRDS. First chapter? OSTRICHES. F*cking superb, you funky little Roman.

"They have cloven talons, very similar to the hoof of the stag; with these they fight, and they also employ them in seizing stones for the purpose of throwing at those who pursue them. They have the marvellous property of being able to digest every substance without distinction, but their stupidity is no less remarkable; for although the rest of their body is so large, they imagine, when they have thrust their head and neck into a bush, that the whole of the body is concealed."

How marvelous the mental image Pliny conjures of an ostrich picking up a stone with its foot, chucking it at a hunter, and then sticking its head in a bush! "Their stupidity is no less remarkable"? Astounding!

There's a chapter called THE WOOD-PECKER OF MARS., which I got very excited about only to be disappointed upon realising it's named after the deity, rather than being Pliny's venture into sci fi. It's also a boring chapter. Then I get hit with THE ONLY WINGED ANIMAL THAT IS VIVIPAROUS, AND NURTURES ITS YOUNG WITH ITS MILK. And I get excited again, because ohhh shit what bird does he think gives birth to live young...

"Among the winged animals, the only one that is viviparous is the bat; it is the only one, too, that has wings formed of a membrane."

... Okay. You did got me there.

How about WHAT ANIMALS ARE SUBJECT TO DREAMS.?

"It is pretty generally agreed, that dreams, immediately after we have taken wine and food, or when we have just fallen asleep again after waking, have no signification whatever. Indeed, sleep is nothing else than the retiring of the mind into itself. It is quite evident that, besides man, horses, dogs, oxen, sheep, and goats have dreams; consequently, the same is supposed to be the case with all animals that are viviparous. As to those which are oviparous, it is a matter of uncertainty, though it is equally certain that they do sleep."

This is a peaceful and humble chapter. I like this chapter. This chapter makes me smile restfully.

Immediately after this, we move into THE VARIOUS KINDS OF INSECTS., where I get batcrap crazy again, specifically starting with THE EXTREME SMALLNESS OF INSECTS.:

"Indeed, in no one of her works has Nature more fully displayed her exhaustless ingenuity. In large animals, on the other hand, or, at all events, in the very largest among them, she found her task easy and her materials ready and pliable; but in these minute creatures, so nearly akin as they are to non-entity, how surpassing the intelligence, how vast the resources, and how ineffable the perfection which she has displayed. Where is it that she has united so many senses as in the gnat?—not to speak of creatures that might be mentioned of still smaller size—Where, I say, has she found room to place in it the organs of sight? Where has she centred the sense of taste? Where has she inserted the power of smell? And where, too, has she implanted that sharp shrill voice of the creature, so utterly disproportioned to the smallness of its body? With what astonishing subtlety has she united the wings to the trunk, elongated the joints of the legs, framed that long, craving concavity for a belly, and then inflamed the animal with an insatiate thirst for blood, that of man more especially!"

I really, genuinely love this part of this chapter. He writes with such open wonder and astonishment. Having studied the physiology of insects in great detail, it's easy to overlook the basics that someone writing 1800 years before the theory of evolution might be fascinated by. This is a good chapter.

Then we reach... BEES. Specifically, 23 chapters on bees. That's the most chapters yet. That's more than elephants and dolphins put together. Pliny the Elder really, really loved bees. I only touch on one, which is THE MODE OF GOVERNMENT OF THE BEES., because:

"When he is weary, they support him on their shoulders; and when he is quite tired, they carry him outright. If one of them falls in the rear from weariness, or happens to go astray, it is able to follow the others by the aid of its acuteness of smell. Wherever the king bee happens to settle, that becomes the encampment of all."

First of all, Pliny knew that there were drones and workers and a... Ruling bee. Second of all, Pliny describes workers supporting their weary ruler like soldiers carrying a general from the field, to the chair in his tent where he may touch one of their faces and empart final whispered knowledge before he perishes, leaving his second-in-command to avenge his father figure. Thirdly, he thought that the ruling bee was male. He refers frequently to the king bee.

He got the spirit.

INSECTS THAT ARE PARASITES OF MAN. WHICH IS THE SMALLEST OF THE ANIMALS? ANIMALS FOUND IN WAX EVEN. has the kind of title which makes it very obvious that everything Pliny wrote was a first draft, because he couldn't just press backspace on his rambling and typos. But it also drew me in because of my further interest in parasitology.

"These insects infest birds too, and are apt to kill the pheasant, unless it takes care to bathe itself in the dust. Of the animals that are covered with hair, it is supposed that the ass and the sheep are the only ones that are exempt from these vermin. They are produced, also, in certain kinds of cloth, and more particularly those made of the wool of sheep which have been killed by the wolf. I find it stated, also, by authors, that some kinds of water which we use for bathing are more productive of these parasites than others. Even wax is found to produce mites, which are supposed to be the very smallest of all living creatures."

I find it most interesting because he's right in a lot of ways about what parasites are and where they can be found... But he did also believe in spontaneous generation, which is to say the belief that if you just leave something long enough, eventually an animal will form out of the material without prompt, which is an idea still used today to try and refute evolution. Wildin'.

There's a lot of chapters in this book and it moves away from insects again shortly, but before that, we just have to drop in on AN ANIMAL FOUND IN FIRE - THE PYRALLIS OR PYRAUSTA.

"That element, also, which is so destructive to matter, produces certain animals; for in the copper-smelting furnaces of Cyprus, in the very midst of the fire, there is to be seen flying about a four-footed animal with wings, the size of a large fly: this creature is called the " pyrallis," and by some the " pyrausta." So long as it remains in the fire it will live, but if it comes out and flies a little distance from it, it will instantly die."

Just imagine being a zoologist in the days when you could say "yeah bro there's a bug that lives in fire but you can't see it cos it dies as soon as you put it out". Fantastic.

I was very excited for THE HEADS OF ANIMALS. THOSE WHICH HAVE NONE. cos hooollleeyyy shit Pliny please tell me what animals you think don't have heads is it gonna be somethin wild like dogs that live without a head or a species of snake or something-

"Animals of the oyster and the sponge kind have no head, which is the case, also, with most of the other kinds, whose only sense is that of touch. Some, again, have the head blended with the body, the crab, for instance."

... oh. No that's... That's actually correct. He even knew that sponges are animals, which most people now don't. Sh*t. He really got me there.

Well, surely THE BRAIN. will prove that Pliny had a lot of things wrong still, right?

"The senses hold this organ as their citadel; it is in this that are centred all the veins which spring from the heart; it is here that they terminate; this is the very culminating point of all, the regulator of the understanding. With all animals it is advanced to the fore-part of the head, from the fact that the senses have a tendency to the direction in which we look. From the brain proceeds sleep, and its return it is that causes the head to nod. Those creatures, in fact, which have no brain, never sleep. It is said that stags have in the head certain small maggots, twenty in number: they are situate in the empty space that lies beneath the tongue, and around the joints by which the head is united to the body."

There we go. I couldn't even make it up. Astute observation about the brain as the centre of thought and soul; and then immediately afterwards, an equally confident declaration that all stags have twenty maggots in their brain. Fantastic.

Next, THE THEORY OF SIGHT - PERSONS WHO CAN SEE BY NIGHT. Gotta be good, right? Mostly accounts of people with weird eyes, but then:

"The Emperor Caius had twenty pairs of gladiators in his training-school, and of all these there were only two who did not wink the eyes when a menacing gesture was made close to them: hence it was that these men were invincible."

WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT? WHAT IS HAPPENING?!

Then immediately after that, in the same chapter:

"Beyond a doubt it is in the eyes that the mind has its abode: sometimes the look is ardent, sometimes fixed and steady, at other times the eyes are humid, and at others, again, half closed. From these it is that the tears of pity flow, and when we kiss them we seem to be touching the very soul."

I'm losing my sh*t. How is this the same person. Humans... Are spectacular.

One line from THE HEART; THE BLOOD; THE VITAL SPIRIT. stood out to me:

"It is said, too, that the eyes are the first organs that die, and the heart the very last of all."

... Bro, that's poetic as sh*t. He does then claim that the mind lives in the heart, which is... Interesting, given the previous claims about the brain. He was trying. Galen had just kinda messed up everyone's understanding by convincing them the heart was where blood was destroyed after being made in the liver or something, so you can understand the confusion. Again, man's got the spirit. Also, this was chapter 69 of that book. Nice.

There's a lot here on various organs and which animals supposedly don't have them, but none stood out to me especially. That is, until ANIMALS WHICH ARE WITHOUT BLOOD AT CERTAIN TIMES OF THE YEAR.

"Those animals which conceal themselves at certain periods of the year [bears, dormice, serpents], as already mentioned, have no blood at those times, with the exception, indeed, of some very small drops about the heart. ... It is a well-known fact, that when a man is in fear, the blood takes to flight and disappears, and that many persons have been pierced through the body without losing one drop of blood; a thing, however, which is only the case with man."

... Okay. Okay. That's fine. That's okay. Fine. Okay. Sure.

Also worth noting that in the middle of this book which is supposedly about insects and now seems to be about general anatomy, he takes an entire chapter to talk about VARIOUS KINDS OF CHEESE. I will not be quoting from it, except to say that he does claim a man named Zoroaster lived for thirty years on cheese and was consequently immortal until he ate something that wasn't cheese. Maybe my spirit lives in Zoroaster, rather than Pliny.

We've now passed the golden segment of The Natural History, at least for a while, as we move into several books on the history of trees and grain. I found it interesting that he mentions what seems to be chilis, though called "Indian pepper", in THE PEPPER-TREE - THE VARIOUS KINDS OF PEPPER - BREGMA - ZINGIBERI, OR ZIMPIBERI, given that all my (fairly extensive) previous research indicated that Romans would have never encountered chili peppers, hence why its discovery is a not insignificant plot point in Sylvestus, because I guess pious d*ckheads on the internet haven't actually checked primary sources because they call themselves ancient history experts after watching 300 and Sparta, and at the time I didn't have access to primary sources myself, but that's fine.

At this point, several books later, we do start to get into the medical section. Time to crack my knuckles and make another cup of coffee. There are far, far too many to cover completely (several books of many chapters, all of which claim to have dozens of remedies listed) but I'll try to breeze through my favourites to offer a selection.

From ONIONS: TWENTY-SEVEN REMEDIES.:

"There are no such things in existence as wild onions. The cultivated onion is employed for the cure of dimness of sight, the patient being made to smell at it till tears come into the eyes: it is still better even if the eyes are rubbed with the juice."

Ser. SER. You can't just say that there's no such thing as wild onions (blatantly untrue) and then tell me to rub onion juice in my eyes if I'm blind. S e r.

"In combination with woman's milk, it is employed for affections of the ears; and in cases of singing in the ears and hardness of hearing, it is injected into those organs with goose-grease or honey."

:(

From ROCKET: TWELVE REMEDIES.:

"The seed of rocket is remedial for the venom of the scorpion and the shrew-mouse: it repels, too, all parasitical insects which breed on the human body, and applied to the face, as a liniment, with honey, removes spots upon the skin. Used with vinegar, too, it is a cure for freckles; and mixed with ox-gall it restores the livid marks left by wounds to their natural colour."

... It's better than onion-eyes.

In GRAPES, FRESH GATHERED.:

"Grapes fresh gathered are productive of flatulency, and disturb the stomach and bowels; hence it is that they are avoided in fevers, in large quantities more particularly."

... heh.

SIXTY-ONE OBSERVATIONS RELEVANT TO WINE.? Don't mind if I do!

"Pure wine, too, acts as an antidote to hemlock, coriander, henbane, mistletoe, opium, mercury, as also to stings inflicted by bees, wasps, hornets, the phalangium, serpents, and scorpions; all kinds of poison, in fact, which are of a cold nature, the venom of the hæmorrhois and the prester, in particular, and the noxious effects of fungi."

Sorry sorry hold on wait sorry hold on a second... Why would you need an antidote to coriander? Did Pliny have the cilantro-soap-taste gene??

"A fomentation of hot wine applied to the genitals of beasts of burden is found to be very beneficial; and, introduced into the mouth, with the aid of a horn, it has the effect of removing all sensations of fatigue."

:(

Intrigued by this sentence from CITRONS: FIVE OBSERVATIONS UPON THEM.:

"Citrons are good, also, for a weak stomach, but it is not easy to eat them except with vinegar."

Hmm, yes, this lemon is somewhat too bitter for me to eat by itself; I think I shall dip it in vinegar.

With regards to ZOPISSA: ONE REMEDY., Pliny discovers how to make people leave his villa because he regretted putting a ? at the end time of the party he hosted when he was feeling more extroverted than he is now:

"We have already stated that zopissa is the pitch, macerated with salt-water and wax, that has been scraped from off the bottoms of ships. The best kind is that taken from ships which have been to sea for the first time. It is used as an ingredient in plasters of an emollient nature, employed to disperse gatherings."

Not 100% on the validity of "employed to disperse gatherings" as a "remedy", but it made me snort.

PLANTS THAT HAVE BEEN MOISTENED WITH THE URINE OF A DOG: ONE REMEDY.!? Pliny!?

"A plant upon which a dog has watered, torn up by the roots, and not touched with iron, is a very speedy cure for sprains."

... like, any plant? Pliny? Pliny??

In REMEDIES DERIVED FROM MAN., Pliny loyally describes a dozen diseases which can be cured by cannibalism, then quickly clarifies:
"We do not look upon life as so essentially desirable that it must be prolonged at any cost, be it what it may—and you, who are of that opinion, be assured, whoever you may be, that you will die none the less, even though you shall have lived in the midst of obscenities or abominations!"
The exclamation mark gets me.

He then, however, continues to list in further chapters many uses of the human body, including REMEDIES DERIVED FROM THE WAX OF THE HUMAN EAR.:
"The human bite is also looked upon as one of the most dangerous of all. The proper remedy for it is human ear-wax: a thing that we must not be surprised at, seeing that, if applied immediately, it is a cure for the stings of scorpions even, and serpents."
... Like, did they think the human bite was venomous? 'Cos I would have killed many people by now.

Then, yet again, REMEDIES DERIVED FROM THE BLOOD, SEXUAL CONGRESS, ETC. - mm, no, Pliny, actually I think that if the first two items on your list are "blood" and "sex", you legally have to tell me what's on the rest of the list, because "etc." is not going to cut it.
"There are many kinds of diseases which disappear entirely after the first sexual congress, or, in the case of females, at the first appearance of menstruation; indeed, if such is not the case, they are apt to become chronic, epilepsy in particular. Even more than this-a man, it is said, who has been stung by a serpent or scorpion, experiences relief from the sexual congress; but the woman, on the other hand, is sensible of detriment."
Like, that's fine I guess.

I hesitantly ventured into REMEDIES DERIVED FROM WOMAN'S MILK., and it lived fully up to expectations.
"It is asserted that if a person is rubbed at the same moment with the milk of both mother and daughter, he will be proof for the rest of his life against all affections of the eyes."
Oh, ser... That's a kink, ser. You walked in on that happening and someone said "no don't worry i'm just proofing myself against all affections of the eyes" and you believed them.

He further makes an interesting claim in SEVEN REMEDIES DERIVED FROM THE HIPPOPOTAMUS.:
"The hippopotamus was the first inventor of the practice of letting blood, a fact to which we have made allusion on a previous occasion."
Okay.

TWELVE REMEDIES DERIVED FROM CHEESE.? Heeeecckkk yeah.
"Cheese is best for the stomach when not salted, or, in other words, when new cheese is used. Old cheese has a binding effect upon the bowels, and reduces the flesh, but is more wholesome to the stomach. Indeed, we may pronounce of aliments in general, that salt meats reduce the system, while fresh food has a tendency to make flesh. Fresh cheese, applied with honey, effaces the marks of bruises. It acts, also, emolliently upon the bowels; and, taken in the form of tablets, boiled in astringent wine and then toasted with honey on a platter, it modifies and alleviates griping pains in the bowels."
Hm. Okay. Might just. Eat the cheese actually thanks.

I'm almost certain "generative organs" means pebis n vagiba, so I was of course drawn to REMEDIES FOR THE DISEASES OF THE GENERATIVE ORGANS AND OF THE FUNDAMENT., and it did not disappoint:
"Swellings of those parts are treated with veal suet—that from the loins in particular—mixed with rue. For other affections, goats' blood is used, with polenta. Goats' gall, too, is employed by itself, for the cure of condylomata, and sometimes, wolf's gall, mixed with wine. Bears' blood is curative of inflamed tumours and apostemes upon these parts in general; as also bulls' blood, dried and powdered. The best remedy, however, is considered to be the stone which the wild ass voids with his urine, it is said, at the moment he is killed. This stone, which is in a somewhat liquefied state at first, becomes solid when it reaches the ground: attached to the thigh, it; disperses all collections of humours and all kinds of suppurations: it is but rarely found, however, and it is not every wild ass that produces it, but as a remedy it is held in high esteem. ... Riding on horseback, we well know, galls and chafes the inside of the thighs: the best remedy for accidents of this nature is to rub the parts with the foam which collects at a horse's mouth. Where there are swellings in the groin, arising from ulcers, a cure is effected by inserting in the sores three horse-hairs, tied with as many knots."
Presented without comment.

Yet despite the confidence of all of the above, in his chapter on REMEDIES FOR FEVERS., Pliny has the gall to question:
"For quartan fever, the magicians recommend cats' dung to be attached to the body, with the toe of a horned owl, and, that the fever may not be recurrent, not to be removed until the seventh paroxysm is past. Who, pray, could have ever made such a discovery as this? And what, too, can be the meaning of this combination? Why, of all things in the world, was the toe of a horned owl made choice of?"
That's what you find issue with, ser?!

There are many, many, many, many more, but our time with Pliny the Elder for now draws toward a close. Before that, I was drawn with hope toward REMEDIES FOR THE DISEASES OF ANIMALS., expecting some wild claims, but was only granted with three short lines:
"A decoction of frogs in water, reduced to the form of a lini- ment, is curative of itch-scab in horses; indeed, it is said, that a horse, when once treated in this manner, will never again be attacked with the disease. Salpe says that if a live frog is given to dogs in their mess, they will lose the power of barking."
Then we leave remedies behind and enter the natural histories of metals, precious stones, and a few others for the last five books, which I did take a browse through, though little stood out so spectacularly as previous, though this account of MIRRORS. piqued me somewhat:
"But, really, it is a very marvellous property that this metal has, of reflecting objects; a property which, it is generally agreed, results from the repercussion of the air, thrown back as it is from the metal upon the eyes. The same too is the action that takes place when we use a mirror. If, again, a thick plate of this metal is highly polished, and is rendered slightly concave, the image or object reflected is enlarged to an immense extent; so vast is the difference between a surface receiving, and throwing back the air. Even more than this-drinking-cups are now made in such a manner, as to be filled inside with numerous concave facets, like so many mirrors; so that if but one person looks into the interior, he sees reflected a whole multitude of persons."
Throwing back of the air? Close enough; even I barely understand how they work. The cup story was genuinely interesting, too.

THE MAGNET: THREE REMEDIES is surprisingly charming in its description:
"She had given a voice to rocks, as already mentioned, and had enabled them to answer man, or rather, I should say, to throw back his own words in his teeth. What is there in existence more inert than a piece of rigid stone? And yet, behold! Nature has here endowed stone with both sense and hands. What is there more stubborn than hard iron? Nature has, in this instance, bestowed upon it both feet and intelligence."
Downright whimsical.

Given how we started off, so strongly, with that introduction and then MAN., I was hoping that the final chapter would give us a suitable outro. It's called A COMPARATIVE VIEW OF NATURE AS SHE APPEARS IN DIFFERENT COUNTRIES. THE COMPARATIVE VALUES OF THINGS., which was... Somewhat promising?
"Having now treated of all the works of Nature, it will be as well to take a sort of comparative view of her several productions, as well as the countries which supply them. Throughout the whole earth, then, and wherever the vault of heaven extends, there is no country so beautiful, or which, for the productions of Nature, merits so high a rank as Italy, that ruler and second parent of the world; recommended as she is by her men, her women, her generals, her soldiers, her slaves, her superiority in the arts, and the illustrious examples of genius which she has produced."
Yep, about what I expected. It goes on for several more pages explaining how the past 37 volumes have conclusively proved Italy is the best place on earth.

After all that, it's still hard for me to really, precisely sum up what so intrigued me about The Natural History. Part of it is no doubt the crossover of my interests in ancient Rome (insofar as it pertains to Sylv), medical history, and podcasts. He covers geography, geology, history, and the arts in as much detail as natural sciences, but those don't really grab my attention, whereas his suggestions on human nature, cures for diseases, and the character of various animals drives me absolutely insane. Maybe it's just a more relatable and interesting link to the past than I was ever given in my much-loathed history lessons in early high school. All of the secondary (?) sources I find about Rome make it very dry and boring and dark; dogs aren't allowed in the house and are considered dirty, everyone died young and lived on stale porridge, chilis weren't discovered and tigers probably never made it to the Colosseum. Yet primary sources, when I can find them, are always vibrant with life and surprise, from an epitaph to a beloved dog who slept on her mistress' pillow, to 37 books confidently detailing the sum of Roman knowledge of the world.
Some of what he says is surprisingly accurate, or close to accurate. Some is hilarious nonsense. Some elicits a wince, some a laugh or a thoughtful pause. I think most of all I am enraptured by this man's genuine passion for the world around him, his desire to document and understand it, even when he got things extraordinarily wrong. This appeals to my creative and scientific nature in an acute way.

Thankfully, Gaius Plinius Secundus has here himself provided a helpful epilogue, so that I may steal his words to close this extremely long and pointless post without putting much effort in:
"HAIL to thee, Nature, thou parent of all things! and do thou deign to show thy favour unto me, who, alone of all the citizens of Rome, have, in thy every department, thus made known thy praise."

Tuesday, 5 May 2020

The Story Behind the Worst Joke in Sylvestus

There were a lot of gems in that first ill-fated draft of Sylvestus Atrox Nigrum that didn't make it into the final product; some were simply lost among almost a hundred chapters that were a special kind of hell to trek through to try and find what was worth keeping, while others had to be sacrificed in scenes that had changed order or vanished completely, context that was lost, and characters who would no longer say that thing at that time. A few of them I was genuinely sad to lose, but honestly I can't even remember any of them now, while Sylvestus Vol I: The Fall is full of new quips and one-liners (and there's a fair few in Vol II, though we'll see how many survive the editing process; many darlings must be sacrificed at the altar of pace and tone).

I am still inordinately proud of "purus powder enema", mostly because I was devastated when I had to cut it because the three stages of the gag just didn't fit together any more - only to, on a later edit, manage to slide it back in before anyone could notice and tell me not to. It's probably not even something anyone has noticed, but I deeply enjoy it as one of the few relics of that first draft to survive. But this isn't about that. That's a good joke.
This post is about a bad joke. Really bad.

It's early in Vol I; we've just been introduced to Aemilius Germanus, owner of the town's largest brothel and absolute lecher. Sylv is an extremely opinionated narrator, both giving us insight to how he judges people, and leading us to join him in his conclusions - the entire first paragraph about Aemilius tears him down (in mirror of the first paragraph about Modius Capito, which establishes him as Sylv's charismatic equal), and for the remainder of their encounter, he slaps and gropes and slurps at women and wine until our loathing for him is beaten only by Sylv's. Then, casually, he offers one of his workers to Sylv. When Sylv politely refuses:


 
  

... Listen, I'm not proud. Let me explain: it's 2011, maybe 2012. I'm, idk, fourteen. Whatever age that establishes that all parts of this story are acceptable, which probably isn't any age tbh. It's English class.
Yep, trust me: you have no idea where this story is going.
Let's say fourteen. English class. F*ckin' nerd. You see, when I started high school, I had a lot of brains and very little social skills. I was quiet because being loud got me bullied. People saw brains and they made a judgement: boring, a prude, a snitch, no fun, stick up their ass. In class activities where we were asked to write a nice thing about everyone else in the room, my name just had forty lines of "smart" written underneath it, while everyone else had "funny", "kind", "pretty", "nice hair", "good at football", "good friend". By the time I left high school, I was an absolute menace: I could get away with anything, I bled charisma, I had a furious temper, I was pretty much the first person to come out in the entire school and I was determined to make my sexuality everyone's problem, I was vastly depressed and anxious and absolutely certain that I could overcome these things by being as loud and opinionated as possible. I started high school with 0 friends and left it with 1.5, but at least I was infamous, which in my opinion at the time was better than popular. I was well-known for escapades such as claiming it was acceptable to eat babies (... there was context), throwing up in Miss Sagar's bin in front of the entire class, and biting Juliet in netball so hard that I drew blood and got banned from anything except badminton for two years. I used to read supernatural porn- sorry, adult romances in class because I was allowed to read a book if I finished the work early (which i always did - remember, i was actually still smart) and I was always seated with the ~disruptive kids~ at the back of class (in the hopes that i'd be a good influence, LOL). In Years Seven and Eight, people thought it was funny to hit me on the back of the head in the corridors, because I always jumped out of my skin - the only way to stop them was to turn around and deck them in the face, an instinct that I still have to fight today whenever someone makes me jump. Because I looked weird and I was overweight and ugly, I wasn't even allowed to exist in peace in those early years; my classmates just thought of me as the teacher's pet goody two-shoes, but total strangers from other years would physically hurt me while yelling insults, usually about my gender. Ahh, transphobia :)
The person who left that school was the same person who started it in a lot of ways, different in a few others: the main thing that changed was people's perceptions of me. It took five hard years of mental breakdowns, slapping boys full across the face in Year Eight Art & Design, and calling someone a c*nt at full volume in Geography because I had no fear of God nor teachers, but I did eventually manage to overcome that initial snap-judgement of "oh, this one is ugly and smart, they're gonna be a kiss-ass who only likes classical music and Shakespeare".
... Though it's also worth noting that I didn't shy away from my smart-ass reputation; I did profess vocally my love of Shakespeare and my perfect 100% on both RE GCSE exams, I just made sure everyone also knew I only listened to heavy rock.

Anyway, what I'm getting at is that there is a very vast difference in those perceptions. And there had to be some middle-stages, where people were slowly coming to realise that I wasn't just a prudish smart kid; I was an asshole prudish smart kid.
... I wasn't even prudish, I've had some slutty periods, I just didn't appreciate boys literally trying to sexually assault me when I was thirteen in the name of "being cool", which was generally considered to be the same thing. Ahh, rape culture :)
One of those key moments, though, came in what I am now certain based on hazy memories was Year Nine. We were our English teacher's first class since she graduated. I had the biggest gayest crush on her I've ever had; I'd just watched the lesbian sex scene in Black Swan and I had some Very Significant Confused Feelings, and I mostly expressed these by being a sassy sh*t to her, a flirting technique I maintain to this day.
We were learning how to write... Travel articles, maybe? We were put into groups of three, sent to the computer room (do schools still have those?? One computer room per building where only about 50% of the computers have, at any one time, a chair, working monitor, keyboard, and mouse? The teacher never knew how to fix stuff and there were two techies for the entire school who were constantly on call so you either learned how to troubleshoot basic computer issues yourself or just sat for an hour doodling in the back of your book because there were no free working computers? Did i just go to a really, really bad school?), and told to pick a travel destination we'd been to or wanted to go to, research it, and make a brochure for it in Microsoft Publisher.
I was put in a group with two girls who were close friends who I knew vaguely and wanted to like, one of whom I would later bite in PE. I was at this point used to being gently mocked in group projects, and until now had been fairly willing to take it in silence, if it meant that, even if I ended up doing all the work, we would at least hand in a decent project.
The girls looked at each other slyly as we found a mostly-working computer and crowded around it. I knew something was coming and braced myself to smile through it.
"So, where do you think we should write about?" I asked politely, keen to just get on with the dang thing.
"How about the Red Light District?" one of the girls asked. They both erupted into giggles which said clearly that they had planned this in advance.
"Sure," I said, opening a fresh Publisher document and typing RED LIGHT DISTRICT in the title.
I will never forget the look on their faces as I did that. Awe. Terror. The realisation that their bluff was being called by the person they had least expected to have any cards. Recall, I hadn't done most of the things listed above at this point; they still considered me to be quiet, intelligent, boring, and easy to pick on. They had expected me to squawk and blush, or maybe gasp and clutch at my crucifix and say a quick prayer for their souls - and instead, I had run with it? Even typed it onto the document?
I was daring them to back down, and they tried, spluttering, "Wait, no - we can't--"
"Why not?" I asked, turning away from the keyboard to look them dead in the eyes, first one, then the other.
Silence. If they admitted they knew how inappropriate it was, then the entire affair fell apart: they couldn't be considered more prudish than this ugly motherf*cker. So they had to go through with it and hope that I backed down first.
Heeeere's the thing. I... Didn't actually... Know. What the Red Light District was. Ahem. I knew it was something inappropriate and dirty because of the way they reacted when I agreed, but honestly, in the moment she said "How about the Red Light District?", I had no idea what I was agreeing to. My poker face was entirely sincere.
Of course, I did later figure out what it was - maybe I picked it up in our discussions, or when we tried to search for images to go into the brochure and all of them were blacklisted by the school's censors, or I might have just Googled it when I got home that night, I don't remember.
But I was also drunk on that feeling, the moment their faces had frozen and then fallen as I agreed and typed it into the document. Like them, I couldn't back out now.

So I didn't. We returned to the computer room next lesson, and I boldly opened up the document, and while they sat there aghast, determinedly typed out three columns of absolute cringe-worthy filth. It was a masterpiece of innuendo. Nothing was explicitly mentioned, but it was bold as a 14 y/o whose sex education was Game of Thrones could write. I don't remember most of it - in fact, I only remember one line of it. The end of the opening paragraph.
"Whatever your schedule, the Red Light District has something, and someone, to offer; you can spend a whole day on these streets, or you can be in and out... As fast as you can be in and out!"
It was simultaneously the best and worst thing I had ever written - and I was already most of the way through The Red Prince.

Then, of course, came the moment of judgement: this was a class assignment that we still had to print off and hand in. At the start of Year Seven, I had forgotten a piece of homework and been literally screamed at by a maniacal History teacher until I had cried, and had proceeded to have nightmares about her that woke me with panic attacks for the rest of the year. By the end of Year Eleven, I would be walking into classes and loudly declaring that I hadn't done the homework so don't bother asking. This was... In the very middle of those.
Which is to say, when the English teacher walked over and asked how we were doing, the two girls managed to do remarkably accurate impressions of the computer room carpet. I turned with a wide smile and said we were doing great, a low sick nauseous weight in my chest. Could they suspend me for this?
"Let's have a look..." she began, leaning forward - and froze.
To be entirely fair, I think most other teachers would have given me detention at that point, at the very least. Thankfully, in an event that would become pivotal in my growth as a student, she was determined to be a cool teacher, she was in her first teaching job, we were her least problematic class, I was (at that point) not an especially problematic student, and she already been marking my work for several months, so she knew what I was capable of.
"Do you think that's appropriate?" she asked, voice cracking with a badly-concealed laugh.
"You told us to review a place," I pointed out pragmatically.
"Yeah! But not-- UGH! 'In and out... As fast as you can be'-- YOU CAN'T WRITE THAT!"
"It's not explicit." My voice was confident, but my stomach was butterflies. Were it any other teacher, or in front of any other students, I might have dropped to my knees and wept for forgiveness, but I was caught in a perfect storm of gay feelings, bravado, and the two girls' awe-struck expressions. "None of it is explicit."
"Are you seriously going to hand that in?"
A trap? Maybe, but no time to back out now. Angelic polite smile time. "Yes."
"Would you let the headmaster read it? Are you just doing this because you think I'm a ledge?* Or would you hand it in to any teacher? Would you print that off and hand it in to me right now if you knew I was going to show it to the headmaster?"
... do or die. No backing out now. If you break, your blossoming reputation is in tatters. What do you value, your education or your reputation?
"Yes."
She groaned again, threw her hands in the air, and walked away, muttering, "You're going to get me fired..." as she did so.
We finished it in silence as I tried not to cry. We printed it out and shyly hid it between other people's work on her desk. It mysteriously found its way into the shredder and never saw the light of either the headmaster's office or indeed anyone else's eyes ever again.

I remembered, always, what I had done. I held it in my heart, that moment, all the promise it had held, the birth of the person who was willing to stick to a joke even when it got them in trouble. This attitude would earn me plenty of scoldings and marks lost later, but right then, it was worth it. I am no longer the kind of person who gets into such p*ssing matches, who will wreak their revenge on wrongdoers and bring violence to the netball court in the name of reputation. I will tear down a f*cker when they need it, but on the whole, my values are those of forgiveness and good intentions. The winner of a p*ssing match is not the one who p*sses hardest, longest, or most accurately, but rather the one who sits patiently on the sidelines, takes a photo of all the people p*ssing in the street, and sends it to the council so that they can all be fined.
But that person needed to exist before I could grow. My tongue needed sharpening before I learned to sheath it except when necessary; my jokes needed to be tested before I could find the right audience. I may now write sarcastic prose and scathing poems about entitled men, but at the time the only thing that stopped a fifteen year old boy from grabbing my breast was to bite him until I drew blood.

So I snuck that line into Sylvestus. As a reminder of the person who wrote The Red Prince very badly so that one day they could write Sylvestus very well. As a shout-out to the person who suffered and snarled so that they could grow. And, of course, as a tribute to an English teacher who definitely should not have had to deal with that shit for three years, but who did, and nurtured a young writer as she did so.
May we all forgive the people we were before, and shape the way for the people we will become.


* early 2010s uk school slang; ledge, short for legend, a teacher who lets you get away with anything, brings in unhealthy food as reward for good behaviour, or is liable to perform "cool" stunts in class; high praise usually reserved for science teachers with access to bunsen burners and explosive chemicals

Monday, 16 October 2017

IFAQ

Q: Wait, an IFAQ?
A: Yes. Infrequently Asked Questions. Of course

Q: Why tho
A: Interesting way of posting information, innit

Q: ... okay. What information do you have to post?
A: Pretty much just that the major re-draft of Sylvestus Vol I is done, and that I finished the probably-final cover design today (about one year after making the first concept art for it)

Q: Oh, cool! Can I see the cover?
A: Sure just send £20 directly to my Paypal (or wait until the official announcement, Soon)

Q: When's "Soon"?
A: When it happens 

Q: Okay then. What's on the cover?
A: Some pictures and some words and stuff

Q: ... What pictures?
A: Good ones

Q: What words?
A: There's a few. Several of them are "Sylvestus". Some of them are my name. "The" and "But" appear occasionally

Q: Why are you being so vague?
A: I'm playing hard to get

Q: Why make this post at all then?
A: Because frequent posts engage the audience and increase website traffic and I was very happy that the cover went so well (so far), but I can't actually release any proper information until the release announcement

Q: Ooh, release announcement! When's that?
A: S--

Q: Were you going to say "Soon" again?
A: ... It was a possibility

Q: Right. Well then. Any other news?
A: Idk. I got some baby rats I should probably show you pictures of but I'm tired and they're a pain to get from my phone to my computer. I finally achieved the student goal of getting a deadline wrong and having to complete an assignment in like three hours. I'm gonna be in a play, so that's cool (y'all should come to Swansea and watch it)

Q: Oh. Was that it?
A: Pretty much yeah

Q: You made me click on that link and come to this website and read all of these stupid questions so that you could tell me something pointless, be rude to me, and then plug your play?
A: And I told you about some rats I refused to show you a picture of. Don't say I don't treat you right

Q: You treat me horribly.
A: That wasn't even a question

Q: Is this supposed to be funny?
A: Kind of yeah but I'm super-tired and a bit delirious. Hope I at least elicited a tepid sigh of amusement from you

Q: ...
A: ...

Q: Can I leave now?
A: Please.

Friday, 29 September 2017

A Haiku About Writing


 "Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck
Fucking fuck fuck fuck fuck shit
Fuck fuck cock balls fuck"
~Tatiana AS Webb 29/09/2017

Monday, 4 September 2017

Hobbiton

Well, it has... Been a while, huh?

In fairness, things have been Happening. Unfortunately, writing isn't my full-time profession, as you may have gathered (if you want to change that, force my books onto your friends, family, colleagues, partners, enemies, local book stores!) - the result is that I can't afford to spend as much time as I'd like not just writing, but on all the accessories.
So what was it this time? Partially, just life stuff. Sylvestus. Pretty art. And then, moving into our new university house!

I am the tallest member of our new house, and I am 5'4". Consequently, our house has already been christened within our Biological Sciences community as Hobbiton (or The Hobbit Hole). It's nice, significantly nicer than the student village was last year (though that wasn't difficult), but moving in has been an understandable hassle. Next week I'm on a five-day field study in Pembrokeshire, and then two weeks after that we start lectures - with three pieces of coursework due already. Oh, and the week we start back I'm going to be getting three baby rats moving in with me.
To stick to my Sylvestus release date, October is going to be busy working on it. The deadlines are looming in life and writing, and on top of that managing this website is becoming an ominous shadow over all of that. It's important, but it may have to take a backseat while I focus on living, studying, and publishing.

In keeping with my normal nature, Hobbiton is a suitably characterful place. It's an incredibly good house for the money, and by student standards, but it ah... Possesses some individualities.
So far we have discovered:
  • My bedroom doesn't have a window. It has a sliding patio door which has been chained shut. It opens about three inches. I am not on the ground floor;
  • A small roof directly below my sliding patio door which, presumably, is why it does not open all the way as it does not appear to be a very stable roof. However, many students before me have been, it seems, creating a tradition of adorning it with things which they can throw out of the three inch gap it opens by;
  • A garage door at the end of our back garden, which is locked shut by a massive chain and a fist-sized padlock we don't have a key for. Upon inspection from the top floor, it is apparent that it does not lead to a garage, but rather to the alleyway at the back of the house;
  • The light directly outside my bedroom, which is on the second of four floors, is controlled by switches on the bottom and top floors;
  • A hook akin to that which may be found beside someone's front door with a hanging basket attached, on the ceiling just out of reach of the top floor balcony which looks over the floors below;
  • Just beyond this, what appears to be a door set into the wall. A metre from the balcony, several metres above the floor below. It has a sign on it telling us not to try and climb into it. It's a very good job I don't drink any more, because drunk-me would definitely try;
  • A small concrete step in one corner of the kitchen, entirely pointless but apparently for the purpose of causing a great deal of tripping, toe-stubbing, and swearing;
  • We won't get broadband installed for another week, but one can pick up the university campus WiFi - but only from one corner of my bedroom (this is where I am currently typing). The campus is a twenty minute walk away. Sometimes it's strong enough to watch Netflix with only occasional buffering. The network is only accessible from this one place in our house, except one time when I picked it up for about ten seconds in the kitchen;
  • The only mirror in my bedroom is wedged behind the desk. RIP mirror selfies;
  • All of the lightbulbs had been removed from the bedrooms and hallways when we moved in, but we did find several boxes of them in a desk drawer;
  • The downstairs toilet has a glass door.
As I say, it has character, if nothing else. Frankly, I would expect nothing less.

Last year, I lived in a quite different place. The student village was the cheapest campus accommodation - and it was quite clear why. It had been under order of demolition for at least five years, and while we lived there they actually demolished part of it, which resulted in frequent losses of water, WiFi, electricity, buses, and launderette facilities (we lost at least one a week. It was a roulette of living standards. We got a £20 refund at the end of the year, though, for our troubles).
Aside from the general phenomenal awfulness, however, it did have one thing going for it besides being cheaper than just about any student accommodation in the country: its name.
Because this is Wales, it had a Welsh name. Actually, student in Welsh is my least favourite Welsh word of all:
Myfyrwyr.
I know the English were horrible colonists and tried to wipe out the Welsh language and it's a glorious piece of heritage we must preserve and it sounds beautiful when spoken, etc., but.
Myfyrwyr.
It doesn't even have a vowel.
I have a problem with Welsh which isn't Welsh's fault, but rather mine for being a genuine idiot. Like, I'm intelligent but I'm not... Clever. In Wales, all signs are written in English and Welsh. In north Wales, the Welsh goes first; in south Wales, the Welsh goes second. When I first moved to south Wales, I encountered a very unique problem: I keep forgetting I can't read Welsh.
Automatically, I just look at a sign and try to... You know... Read it.
Except that I can't read half of it.
But my brain doesn't register that it's Welsh and therefore I can't read it. I just see something that I can read the first half of and not the second, and think I've had a stroke.
Of course, I then go back to England and encounter the opposite problem: when I've been in Wales for a few months I learn to skip over the Welsh. The result is that I only read every second line of every poster or road sign - meaning that in English I just miss half of what it's trying to say.
I've asked around, and apparently most people aren't this stupid.
It's just me.
 
The student village's name was pronounced Hen-druh-voy-lun. But how was Hen-druh-voy-lun spelt?
I'm glad you didn't ask.
In my first year in Swansea, I counted four ways that it was spelt. I managed to collect photos of three of them, although I don't doubt there were more.

To me, this was absolutely hilarious. What's better than living in a place no-one knows how to spell?

Hendrefoilan


Hendrefoelan
Hendrefoilian
At least you can't spell Hobbiton wrong very easily.