When the Bailo's assistant tries to arrest Lucas, the latter asks:
"'What's his touchstone?'" (p. 65)
Is this an idiosyncratic use of that word?
When the ship's captain is asked whether he can read the Bailo's warrant, he replies:
"'N-no... D'you think me a priest?'" (ibid.)
Imagine living in a society where, among the general population, only the clergy were literate. Would you accept ordination (and celibacy) on that basis? (Someone told me that, in the Middle Ages, University undergraduates would be in minor orders.) I would value access to whatever history, philosophy and literature existed but would want to spend most of my time in study and reflection, not in performing ceremonies or dispensing sacraments.
Today, I took a lot of written notes (see On Board) which will generate several posts but tomorrow will be dominated by Aileen's god-daughter's second birthday party.
6 comments:
Depends where and when, too. Charlemagne never learned to write, though he tried. By the early 14th century date of this story, most noblemen and nearly all merchants were literate, and a fair number of shopkeepers and master-artisans in urban settings, but the majority of the literate were probably still clerics.
(University students were -technically- in minor orders but that didn't include lifelong vows of celibacy, poverty and obedience.)
Incidentally, the ability read -silently- was still rare -- it started out as a monastic practice, due to the vows of silence some orders had.
Kaor, Paul and Mr. Stirling!
Paul: If my memory, which is shaky here, is correct what Lucas was demanding of the Bailo's assistant was that he prove he had the authority to arrest Lucas. Hence "touchstone."
But only a relatively small number of university students would go on to major orders: deacon and priest. By about 1300 my belief is that most students would remain either laity or only in minor orders.
By now, after all these years of commentary on the works of Anderson and other writers, you must have a large volume of long hand notes!
Mr. Stirling: I too have read Einhard's VITA KAROLI MAGNI, and the rather touching account he gave of how hard Charlemagne tried to learn how to write.
I was interested by you writing SILENT reading has its origins in monastic practices and customs.
Ad astra! Sean
Sean: this was still an overwhelmingly oral culture; it was passed on by the spoken word. Writing started as a mnemonic aid, an it still showed at this date. People generally at least softly murmured what they were reading -- they had to hear the words for it to be real to them. Learning to read still generally starts that way.
Incidentally, I (and a lot of other writers) often read passages we've just written aloud. It's a useful way to spot excess verbiage, for starters.
Kaor, Mr. Stirling!
Also, I think, for a very long time, books were copied/printed without the words being spaced out. Would reading aloud be one means of separating words from one another?
Altho I have no conscious memory of reading aloud when I was learning how to read, I probably did that, at least for a time. I'm interested to know you and many other writers read aloud, to check for unneeded words to eliminate.
Oddly, I just now thought of St. Gregory of Tours, because of how many books he wrote at a time, after the fall of the Western Empire, when literacy must have been crashing and only the clergy and some Gallo/Roman aristocrats would be able to read. I am fond of St. Gregory's HISTORY OF THE FRANKS.
Ad astra! Sean
When I was a Careers Advisor, I gave a young client some printed info, was irritated when he read it aloud, told him that he didn't need to do that, then realized that his literacy was so poor that he probably did need to read aloud.
With another client, I scrolled down some job vacancies on a computer screen, looked to the client for a response and was surprised to see that she was glancing casually around the room and out the window. The younger girl with her was amused but, of course, did not trouble to explain her amusement. Then the client told me that she could not read.
Kaor, Paul!
The first example, of a client reading aloud, interested me as a modern example of the phenomenon described by Stirling. The second could only mean disaster for the woman who could not read. Because of how necessary it is to be literate in our current world.
Ad astra! Sean
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