Hey, friends! If I piqued your interest in the debate over the renaming of Anglo-Saxon studies (per last week’s post), the Medieval Workshop site eloquently explains the situation in this post by Mary Rambaran-Olm. Please follow the link!
Brief Takeaways:
▫️ There was an agenda behind the term “Anglo-Saxon,” which evolved from myths about one great English race which never existed. Protestants used it to separate themselves from Roman Catholic influence. Scholars in recent centuries used it to evoke a mythos of English national pride.
▫️ The continued use of the term is both an American and a British problem. Learning the history of “Anglo-Saxon” as it was invented and used sheds light on scholars in previous generations, reminding us to be aware of the systems we might take for granted. To be mindful of the questions we ask and the lines we draw.
▫️ Words matter. Historical accuracy matters. Change is good.
Why am I obsessed with this?
First, I have a BA in English and History. I studied the early English when I was in Oxford for a semester. I have good relationships with people who specialize in medieval and early modern literature and history. I’m not in academia, but I’m not quite a layman. The most valuable training I received as an undergraduate was that research and context matters. As a novelist seeking to write historical fiction – or science fiction with strong historical themes and situations – I want to get my facts straight before I go about world-building.
I was in middle school when I first learned about the Magna Carta. It was literally the first time social studies/history class had ever touched on a subject earlier than the 1600s or the watered-down events of 1492. England in 1215 and bad King John was another world entirely. I realized history didn’t begin with the Mayflower. I wanted to know what came before. From that point my little brain devoured stories of England and France.
High school offered AP European history but it was dropped the year I was set to take it. I took AP World instead, which was good for me – gave me an awareness of the depths of history across Asia, Africa & the Middle East, as well as Europe. It was important. I’m glad I took it. But I still wanted to learn about England.
In my sophomore year of college I took Carole Levin’s England to 1688 class, and my life changed. England came alive in that class. It was complicated and messy. All those kings and queens! The Black Death! The Peasants Revolt! Joan of Arc! The War of the Roses! Henry VIII and his six wives! Queen Elizabeth with the heart and stomach of a king! It made me want to delve deeper and retell all these fascinating stories. It helped that Carole is quite the orator and fierce advocate of her students; history classes after Carole’s were comparatively lifeless and impersonal.
I studied the Anglo-Saxons at Oxford because I wanted to know who they were. Not just in terms of the heptarchy (which is, of course, not exactly the story). It fascinates me that many warring kingdoms, unstable and impermanent, would eventually coalesce into one country. They remain somewhat mysterious because the Norman conquerors – the new ruling class from 1066 – destroyed and rebuilt early English architecture. French became the courtly and literary language. Even before the conquest, English culture and scholarship had been in decline from the onslaught of Viking invasions. These hard times are the bedrock of English character.
Closer to home, the English are my ancestors. One possible ancestor was recorded in the Domesday Book. Others kept their heads down during the Wars of the Roses. Much later, one of them fell over the side of the Mayflower and almost drowned. One was a whale-stealer. (Seriously.) Later still, one would light the lamps in the Old North Church in Boston. 1078, 1450, 1620, 1775. It’s all one story – pitfalls and prejudices included.
One simple question grounds me: what did my ancestors call themselves? Anglisc or Anglecynn. This creates more questions: what did their lives look like? What did they value? How did they cope with a changing world? Assume nothing. Delve deep.
One novel that inspires me is Nicola Griffith’s Hild. She has painted a vivid picture of Northumbria (north of England) in the 600s. The story follows Hild, an Anglisc princess forging her path in her uncle’s – King Edwin – household. It is a world of the warrior Anglisc, the servant (sometimes slave) -class wealh (Welsh or British people), and the Latin-speaking priests building an irresistible political influence. The writing is gorgeous. The story is beautiful and brutal. It pulled back the veils of mystery over the early English, showing them as people of flesh and bone and spirit.
I highly recommend Hild as truly superb historical fiction that gives equal weight to the inner lives of individuals – especially women – and to the global forces bringing change – nature and craft, pagan tradition and Christian knowledge, kings and seers. Griffith has two sequels in the works for Hild, following her story into exile in France, and later as the famous abbess of Whitby. I await them eagerly.
