Battle Scenes Research Articles

A Gun Is Not a Woman: Local Subjectivity in Mo Yan’s Novel Tanxiang xing

Mo Yan’s historical novel Sandalwood Death revisits the Boxer Uprising, exploring a local structure of feeling from the point of view of oral transmissions that, one hundred years after the events, appears gradually to be receding into oblivion. It is a project of recuperation or, rather, aesthetic reconstruction of local knowledge. The staging of a variety of local performances, such as Maoqiang opera, seasonal festivals, military and religious parades, as well as of scenes of excessive violence in executions and battle scenes, appears to be a strategy for the cultural reclamation of these local experiences. The story challenges the ingrained dualism between foreign, modern imperialist and nationalist forms of rationality, and pre-modern, local patterns of behaviour and thought. Employing polyphony and multivalent historical representtations, the novel aspires to portray the social dynamics in a given geohistorical circumstances by measuring the spatiotemporal as well as the cognitive distance between the witnessed event, the testifying witness and the future receivers of the transmitted stories. Thus, the inquiry does not focus on the historical events as facts, but rather on their cultural afterlife in (founding) narratives. In times of a growing gap between the modernist vision of human liberation and the actual conditions of growing inequality, delegitimization and dispossession, this tale of unrest in the wake of globalization has as much to say about the world’s peoples around the year 2000, when the novel was published, as about the microcosm of Shandong Gaomi County around the year 1900, when the historical events took place. Taking into account that the novel was written as a local Maoqiang opera in the making and that theatres are major providers of cultural space for the enactment of the human self as the subject of history, Sandalwood Death can perhaps best be described as a theatre of reclamation.

Liberal Epic: The Victorian Practice of History from Gibbon to Churchill

Liberal Epic: The Victorian Practice of History from Gibbon to Churchill. Charlottesville: University of Virginia Press, 2011. 336 pp. $22.97.Edward Adams argues in Liberal Epic that epics, defined by their emphasis on graphic combat scenes between heroes and the valorization of war, were liberalized and sanitized in poems, histories, and historical novels throughout the long nineteenth century. His oxymoronic (273) subject is to trace the representational and ideological dilemma of [Victorian writers'] effort to celebrate both murderous heroic power and liberal (8). Adams strives to identify this move by the entwining of two terms or notions, liberal and epic, one associated with progress, humanity, and self-determination and the other with tradition, war, and violent domination (19).One way to imagine this evolution is to compare the origins of Chinese martial arts rooted in necessity to the present-day acrobatic, flying, floating, stylized Wushu fighting in Ang Lee's celebrated film Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon (2000). Figuratively similar to the warriors in the film, Adams appears to leap effortlessly across rooftops, to glide over water without leaving a ripple, and to dance nimbly on the tops of bamboo trees. The book's pace and sweep leaves the reader breathless at how quickly he travels from Homer's Iliad to John Romero's DOOM (a first-person shooter video game).Aside from his major analyses of nineteenth-century historical writing, Adams also provides tantalizing peeks into disparate works such as J. R. R. Tolkien's The Hobbit (1937), John Keegan's military histories, Samuel von Pufendorf's Of the Law of Nature and Nations (1672), and Steven Spielberg's Saving Private Ryan (1998)-all in three hundred pages or so. It inspires at once exhilaration, but also a touch of incredulity. And perhaps any skepticism results at least in part from the kind of narrowness that can be bred in the academy, with its sometimes stifling emphasis on specialization. An ambitious work such as this one can fall prey to knee-jerk suspicion. Liberal Epic is made of far sterner stuff and Adams has big ideas about big books and he is intrepid and relentless in advancing his thesis rather in the manner of a Pickett's Charge.There are many reasons to rejoice, not least because Adams breathes new life into books that were in their day bestsellers, but that now lead a more or less moribund scholarly existence such as Scott's Napoleon (1827), Creasy's Battles (1851), Carlyle's Frederick (1858-65), and Churchill's Marlborough (1934-38). In Liberal Epic Adams also considers seriously the work of professional historians whose writing demonstrates his thesis, such as G. M. Trevelyan and C. V. Wedgwood. The volume is highly suggestive in interdisciplinary ways, in particular when Adams makes sometimes oblique but always intriguing connections to the writings of Grotius and John Locke, to the influence of David Hume and Francois Fenelon, to the economic vision of Adam Smith, and to the modern political thought of Leo Strauss, Quentin Skinner, John Pocock, John Rawls, and Michael Walzer.Although he espouses a proposition about the softening (205) of Victorian epic under the spell of Gibbon, which he discerns in the movement from Homeric killing to Popeian dying (166), Adams clearly does not mean the work to be ponderously theoretical. He displays his wit throughout and has an eye for irony. There are occasional nods to theory and engagement with critical thinkers, but the real work is done by Adams himself in attempting to trace the often subtle contours (see his chapter on William Morris) and the evolutionary development of the tendency he identifies, namely, the emptying out of violent heroism in liberal epic's modern battle scenes (173). Adams renders Liberal Epic pliable enough to address literary scholars and historiographers. It is in the latter field that the book makes a needed and signal contribution. …

In the Realms of the Unreal

In1973,when80-year-oldHenryDarger, a retiredChicago janitor anddishwasher,was too frail to climb the stairs tohis third floor apartment at 851 Webster Avenue in Lincoln Park, he asked his landlord Nathan Lerner for help in moving into an old age home. Darger had lived in his Chicago apartment for 40 years, and it was filled with his accumulated possessions. Lerner asked Darger what to do with everything in his apartment and was told, “It’s all yours.”1(p15) When Lerner examinedDarger’s abandonedapartment,he founda treasure trove! The shy reclusive hospital janitor had lived a secret life as a visual artist and a writer of epics.2 Darger’s small, cluttered, 1.5-room apartment was filled with stacks of newspapers andmagazines that rose to the ceiling, leaving only a narrow path to the oval table where he worked. One entire wall was covered with a collage titled The Battle of Calverhine (first epigraph) containing hundreds of images. Among the debris were found 7 huge handbound volumes of typed pages of narrative and a dozen more unbound bundles of typed and handwritten pages in a nearby trunk. Lerner had discovered Darger’s masterpiece, an illustrated bookmore than 15 000 typed pages longwith approximately 300 images.Darger titled itTheStoryof theVivianGirls, inWhat is Known as the Realms of the Unreal, of the GlandecoAngelinianWarStormCausedby theChildSlaveRebellion (hereafter referred to as The Realms of the Unreal). In addition, he found the 8500-page handwritten sequel, Adventures in Chicago, and Darger’s 5084-page autobiography. The Realms of the Unreal is filled with colorful landscapes, fantastic creatures, and epic battle scenes between opposing forces of good and evil on an imaginary planet.1,2 After writing the text (completed in the 1930s), Darger illustrated it. The action takes place on an imaginary planet that is “1000 times as large as our own world and with our earth as its moon.”1 The Catholic Nations (Abbieannia, Angelinia, Abyssinkile, Protestentia, and Calverinia) and the protective Blengiglomenean Serpents are in a war against the Glandelinians, fallen Catholics who enslave and torture children. The war lasted 4 years and 7 months and follows a sequence of events similar to World War I and incorporated certain aspects of the American Civil War into the narrative. His heroines are the 7 Vivian princesses (Violet, Jenny, Joice, Catherine, Hettie, Daisy, Evangeline, and Gertrude Angeline, their adoptive sister) who lead the uprising against the slave holders. The7braveViviangirls, princessesofAbbiennia, aremodeled after Joan of Arc; their mission is to free the child slaves. This involves them inmany life-threatening episodes.Darger, a deeply religious man, wrote that “They fought...as if not only ledby the spirit of theMaidofOrleansbut byChrist.”1 Like JoanofArc, theViviangirls are innocentandsaintly.Tragically, when their army of prepubescent fighting girl soldiers lose in battle, they are rounded up by the enemy and tortured. They are strangled, hanged at the gallows, or dismembered as they call out inpain and terror. In thebattle scenedepicted in the figure,3 the prepubescent band of girl warriors is in themidst of retreat during a violent storm. Someof girl soldiers are running away,while others, armedwith rifles, stand to fight. Darger captures the emotions of someof the children during thebattle scene: one child standing in the center is preoccupied, another in front is tearful, a dark-haired girls distractsherself by looking at apurple flower, another child looks out blankly or perhaps thoughtfully at the ongoingbattle, and another girl lookswarmlyup towardoneher companions. Just as Joan of Arc cut her hair and dressed as aman in battle,4 the girl warriors convey elements of both femaleness and maleness. The naked girls all have prepubescent male genitals.4 Darger’s long narrative focuses on the atrocity of child slavery, abuse, and murder. The Realms of the Unreal apparently is Darger’s creative way of working through aspects of his own traumatic early life experiences and his continuing concerns about wartime and other atrocities that occurred during his lifetime. Darger was a solitary, deeply religious, and inventive man who worked as a janitor by day and wrote and illustrated his writings at night. His neighbors (who saw him as reclusive and odd) often heard him carrying out imaginary dialogues with his characters.1 He had one close friend in his early years, Whilliam Schloeder, who joined with him in establishing the 2-man Gemini Society for the protection of children. Writing and art making allowed Darger the means to express his views on issues that concerned him, including injustices against children, the importanceofprotecting childhood innocence, and his relationship with God. Darger’s question to God about why God allowed children to suffer remained unanswered.

Why No Mercy? A Study of Aeneas' Missing Virtue

When Octavian in 27 BC was given the title of Augustus, a shield was set up in the senate inscribed with four virtues; virtus, clementia, iustitia, and pietas. Aeneas, the great ancestor of Octavian, is frequently praised for pietas, virtus, and iustitia in the Aeneid. Regarding clementia, however, Vergil is conspicuously silent. Indeed, in the battle scenes of books 10 and 12, Aeneas refuses to spare enemies who ask for mercy. The author examines the arguments presented in order to vindicate Aeneas' acts, and argues that the sources cited in defence of Aeneas cannot be called upon to give a clear verdict. Instead of employing contemporary sources in a bid to exculpate Aeneas, the author uses them to explain why Vergil decided to make his hero merciless. He submits that Vergil has deliberately, and in accordance with his view of contemporary political events, created a merciless hero for his epic.

Ralph Roister Doister's Mock Helmet

In the mock battle scene in Nicholas Udall's Ralph Roister Doister (ca. 1551–1553), the parasite Merrygreek sardonically urges Roister Doister to put on the head in the manner of a helmet or “headp...

Stella P. Revard, Politics, Poetics, and the Pindaric Ode: 1450–1700.Politics, Poetics, and the Pindaric Ode: 1450–1700. Stella P. Revard. Medieval and Renaissance Texts & Studies 351. Arizona Studies in the Middle Ages and the Renaissance 27. Tempe: Arizona Center for Medieval and Renaissance Studies/Brepols, 2009. Pp. ix+359.

<i>Stella P. Revard</i>, Politics, Poetics, and the Pindaric Ode: 1450–1700.<i>Politics, Poetics, and the Pindaric Ode: 1450–1700</i>. Stella P. Revard. Medieval and Renaissance Texts &amp; Studies 351. Arizona Studies in the Middle Ages and the Renaissance 27. Tempe: Arizona Center for Medieval and Renaissance Studies/Brepols, 2009. Pp. ix+359.

Ghoulish Song by William Alexander (review)

Reviewed by: Ghoulish Song by William Alexander Kate Quealy-Gainer Alexander, William . Ghoulish Song. McElderry, 2013. [ 176p]. Trade ed. ISBN 978-1-4424-2729-7 $16.99 E-book ed. ISBN 978-1-4424-2731-0 $9.99 Reviewed from galleys R Gr. 4-6. Music and performance have magical qualities in the river city of Zombay, and when Kaile accepts a gift of a bone flute from a goblin, the tune the instrument plays separates the young girl from her shadow. Kaile's family, convinced that her missing shadow indicates Kaile has lost her soul, bars her from their house and insists she is dead. In order to reclaim her life, Kaile must track down the restless soul to whom the bone originally belonged, a quest that brings her to the musicmakers who hold the city together with their tunes just before the river's flooding threatens all of Zombay. Alexander returns to the world that won him the National Book Award with Goblin Secrets (BCCB 4/12), but Kaile's story has a more whimsical, fairy-tale feel than the steampunk-infused earlier volume, focusing on Zombay's magic and legends as opposed to automatons. His storytelling remains compelling, and Kaile makes a likable heroine, at times admirably noble and at other times understandably frustrated and defiant. Her adventures are just scary enough to keep readers on edge without giving anyone nightmares, and the climactic battle scene is triumphant with a touch of melancholy as Kaile puts to rest the souls of victims of past river floods. Those readers who were intrigued by Zombay in the first installment will be pleased to find that the city seems to have secrets enough for many more books. [End Page 367] Copyright © 2013 The Board of Trustees of the University of Illinois

Warsztat malarski Pietera Meulenera na przykładzie obrazu Potyczka jeźdźców w krajobrazie (1647 r.) z Muzeum Narodowego w Poznaniu oraz innych dzieł malarza znajdujących się w zbiorach polskich

This paper presents technique and technology of the seventeenth-century Flemish painter Pieter Meulener, most renowned for battle scenes and landscapes with scenes. It presents an analysis of the technical structure: Encounter of Horsemen in a landscape from the collection of the National Museum in Poznan, Skirmish from the National Museum in Warsaw and Landscape with a battle scene from the National Museum in Gdansk. The presented results were supplemented with information on the seventeenth century Flemish painters’ workshop.Analysis on the technical structure of Pieter Meulener’s paintings helped to understand the rules in seventeenth century Flemish painting. In result of this research it was established that Pieter Meulener referred in his painting to the workshop of the best painters of his time. The impact of emerging new trends in painting, such as alla prima technique and the strong impact of Rubens innovation and his rich painting expression, and thus – drifting away from the established painting routines – have set a very interesting stage in the evolution of Flemish paintings techniques and technologies, which due to some open issues can be an inspiration for further research.

An Analysis of the Cremated Human Remains in a Terracotta Cinerary Urn of the Third-Second Century BCE from Chiusi, now in the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York

A small quantity of burned human remains was found in a Hellenistic terracotta cinerary urn from Chiusi now housed in the Metropolitan Museum of Art. This mold-made, painted ceramic chest decorated with a battle scene and its lid in the form of a reclining male figure were purchased from a collection known to be rich in materials recovered from Chiusi and its environs. Across the upper edge of the chest is the name of the deceased, inscribed in red pigment. In general, remains found in cinerary containers are assumed to belong to the individuals for whom the object was originally purchased, and a “blind” evaluation of the bones in this container was undertaken as part of the overall study of this object. Comparing the results of the skeletal study with the information from the inscription and lid form offers insights regarding the use of biological studies in augmenting our understanding of the ways in which cinerary containers were used and, by extension, how mortuary practices formed an important part of the Etruscan culture.

‘Struck (with Blood)’. The Meaning and Etymology of παλάσσω and Its Middle Perfect πεπάλακτο

Abstract Among Homer’s bloody descriptions of battle scenes, we find the thrice-repeated phrase ἐγκέφαλος δὲ / ἔνδον ἅπας πεπάλακτο (Il. 11.97 f., 12.185 f., 20.399 f.). The middle pluperfect of παλάσσω is interpreted by commentators and dictionaries either as ‘the brain was spattered (against the inside of the helmet)’, or as ‘the brain was sprinkled (with blood)’. Both interpretations of πεπάλακτο yield syntactic and/or semantic problems. In this paper, I discuss these problems and, after reconsidering the attestations of παλάσσω during the history of Greek, propose a new solution. It is argued that παλάσσω does not primarily mean ‘sprinkle, bespatter’, but (i) ‘strike’, out of which (ii) ‘soil, defile’ developed. In the problematic Homeric phrase, I suggest to translate πεπάλακτο with ‘was struck’. Moreover, I propose an etymology for παλάσσω, deriving the middle perfect πεπάλακτο (which I consider to be the oldest formation) from the same root as πλήσσω ‘strike’, viz., PIE *pleh2g-. This etymology is corroborated by the comparison between ἐµπαλάσσοµαι and ἐνιπλήσσω, both ‘be stuck (in)’.

Portret van een zeventiende-eeuwse schildersvrouw: Anna Schut, huisvrouw en weduwe van Peter Snayers

Due to a lack of sources, early modern painters wives often remain overshadowed by their husbands. However, the exceptionally elaborate record collection at the archives in Antwerp and Brussels allows us to paint a unique picture of Anna Schut, wife of the Flemish battle scene painter Peter Snayers (1592-1667). This article depicts this vigorous woman in four paragraphs, each devoted to another one of her social roles. The first part focuses on Anna Schut´s involvement with family : she did not only take responsibility in matters concerning guardianship and inheritance, but she also bestowed money and valuable objects on both her own blood relatives and on her family-in-law. Apart from that, she maintained her husband´s business relations by becoming the godmother of some of his business partners´children. The second part highlights Schut´s activities as a persistent business woman. She took legal action to force debtors to pay up and was a neat and accurate bookkeeper with a nose for opportunities. A good division of tasks between husband and wife - Snayers as the producer and Schut as the accountant - ensured that their painting business would become successful and lucrative. The third part deals with the wealth that the artist and his wife collected around them. They could afford purchases that traditionally belonged to the lifestyle of the nobility, mingled in an elitist environment and may even be considered as an example of the seventeenth century aristocratization of prosperous citizens. The fourth part illustrates Anna Schut´s occupations as a widow. Apparently, she started a small business in gloves with another widow, Catharine de Morienval.

Female voices found in the Tainaner Ensemble’s Shakespeare Unplugged 3 – Macbeth

In 2003 and 2007, the Tainaner Ensemble performed two adaptations of Macbeth in Taiwanese, the most frequently spoken local language in Taiwan other than Mandarin Chinese. Both adaptations, based on the same script, deleted the battle scenes and featured three witches as protagonists. The number of female characters thus increased, and additional care was taken to show female influences. These Taiwanese adaptations produced various tunes by addressing the rhyme, meter and tone of these compositions. Actors were required to find rhythm in their body movements and the voice of their characters. The female actors playing Lady Macbeth and the three witches also incorporated different vocal techniques into their speeches to enhance the rhythm. The female voices came to the forefront and complemented the feminine power in these adaptations. This article discusses how this female domination was established, and the ways that the coordination between physical and verbal actions equipped the female characters to create melody in their performances. The manifestation of these female voices offered the feminist reading of Macbeth to signify the female rise to power.

Circuits of Spectacle: The Miller Brothers’ 101 Ranch Real Wild West

Circuits of SpectacleThe Miller Brothers’ 101 Ranch Real Wild West Alison Fields (bio) The Miller Brothers’ 101 Ranch Real Wild West show ran from 1906 to 1931, outlasting the famous Buffalo Bill’s Wild West show by more than a decade. From its beginnings in Oklahoma Territory, the Real Wild West show traveled national and international circuits and built a broad roster of performers, including more than 150 American Indians. During the show’s run, the Miller Brothers also oversaw the contracting out of Indian performers to other venues, including the Sarasanni Circus in Dresden, Germany, and the New York Motion Picture Company’s Santa Ynez Canyon studio in California. While cultural and technological changes led to the decline of live shows and ushered in the age of western films, much overlap existed between these forms of entertainment in the first decades of the twentieth century. Many of the same Indian actors moved seamlessly between the realms of live and filmed performances, sometimes even reenacting the same historical events in multiple genres. Through their affiliation with the Miller Brothers’ show, Native people traversed geographic boundaries, negotiated space within specific venues, and engaged audience members in varied practices of looking. As participants in the Real Wild West’s Indian Village “Big Sideshow Act,” as transoceanic travelers with the Sarrasani Circus, and as battle scene extras in the California studio locale known as “Inceville,” Native actors could build their livelihoods around the performance of Indian identity. This article will examine how travel routes, performance spaces, and shifting technologies created new viewing positions for both performers and spectators in the early twentieth century—positions that were not fixed but emerged through a constant series of negotiations. The work [End Page 443] of cultural historians and film and performance studies scholars as well as historic photographs of the Real Wild West show shed light on these negotiations. To begin, it is helpful to consider the origins of the Miller Brothers’ 101 Ranch, which serves as the anchor for each genre—the Wild West show, the circus, and early western film—to be explored. The Miller Brothers’ 101 Ranch The Miller Brothers’ 101 Ranch began with a westward journey. George Washington Miller, ranch founder, left his Kentucky home following the Civil War. He drove cattle from Texas to Kansas, moving several times before relocating his ranch to the Cherokee Outlet. When the federal government expelled ranchers from the Outlet in 1893, Miller leased land from the Ponca to continue his operations. After George’s death in 1903, his sons, Joseph, Zachary, and George, took over responsibility for the ranch. They continued their father’s agricultural and horticultural projects, cultivating a broad range of fruits, vegetables, and grains, improving crop strains, and raising a diversity of livestock. Spanning over 100,000 acres and four counties, the ranch operated as a self-contained community. As the ranch developed, its physical structures grew to include an electrical plant, tannery, dairy, ranch store, and several mills. In 1909 Ernest Marland, who went on to become a noted Oklahoma oilman, philanthropist, and politician, led efforts to drill for oil on the ranch, starting the 101 Ranch Oil Company.1 The creation of the Real Wild West show, however, is how the ranch became famous. Hosting “Oklahoma’s Gala Day” for members of the National Editorial Association on June 11, 1905, the Miller Brothers exhibited the skills of their ranch hands and American Indian performers. The gala featured “Geronimo’s last bison hunt,” in which a party of cowboys and Indians, including the famed Apache warrior, chased a bison on horseback to the point of exhaustion. A Chicago businessman, riding in an automobile, then killed it with a rifle. Geronimo fired two additional shots into the dead animal.2 The event also showcased Lucille Mulhall, who became known as “America’s first cowgirl,” and Bill Picket, an African American and Choctaw cowboy later famed for his “bulldogging” technique (taking a wild steer down by biting it on the lip). Multiple modes of transportation allowed visitors to travel to the ranch and take in the gala’s sights. Glenn Shirley, in the foreword of Ellsworth [End Page 444] Collings and Alma...

Stateside (review)

Reviewed by: Stateside Catherine Grandorff (bio) Jehanne Dubrow . Stateside. Triquarterly. The poems of Jehanne Dubrow's Stateside ring with tension, echoed in modern, clear words paired with time-honored forms. These poems, frank in diction and lockstep in rhythm, challenge the dominant narrative of military service by presenting Dubrow's experience as a navy spouse. Indeed, Stateside appears to be the marriage of Dubrow's poetic credentials and her personal life: she is both professor in creative writing and literature at Washington College and wife to an officer in the U.S. Navy. In this collection she explores the latter by means of the former, and explores the boundaries of love: love of spouse, self, and possibility for the rekindling of that love when it has been stretched across time and sea. The opening poem, "Secure for Sea" orients the reader for the emotional journey that the speaker undertakes as her husband prepares for deployment, deploys, and returns. In this poem, Dubrow introduces heightened anxiety and a tension that lingers throughout her collection by asking the metaphorical question And even if we're surehe's coming back, it's hard to know: [End Page 176] the farther out a vessel drifts,will contents stay in place, or shift? Dubrow casts out the subsequent poems of Stateside like a fishing net hoping to catch something that resembles an answer to this initial question. The tone of "Secure for Sea" echoes in readers' minds as they make their way through the waters of Dubrow's collection. As noted, she addresses three stages of deployment; appropriately, she packages these into three distinct sections. Part 1 explores the anxiety and stress of deployment, as "Secure for Sea" suggests. In part 2, the speaker, now alone, wrestles with what to do beyond waiting, wondering. Dubrow ultimately leans on legend by delving into Penelope's powerful and ancient narrative. Not only does Dubrow invoke Odysseus's loyal wife but allows her speaker to thoroughly identify with her, seemingly as a coping mechanism. Perhaps the strongest poems of this section are those in which the speaker indeed becomes a modern-day Penelope. For instance, in "Ithaca" the speaker shows the reader the link between legend and real life, referring to a wife's chastity as "a yellow ribbon to her door," or being chased by suitors "at pta meetings . . .when she buys groceries / or takes the dogs out for a pee." While Dubrow continues this in another part 2 piece, "Penelope, Stateside," by beginning with "On an island called America . . . Go shop for bras / and lacy thongs at the px," she also foreshadows the tension of part 3, in which the soldier-husband returns, suggesting to the reader that "He won't be satisfied . . . because he's stateside / and dreaming of the combat zone." Not only do these poems display Dubrow's thoughtful exploration of emotion, they also feature her precise use of plain language. Nevertheless, she marries common language to elevated form. Indeed, militaristic meter contributes to Stateside's mood of duty, reinforced by the reoccurring presence of subtle employment of rigid form: traditional iambic pentameter, poignant sonnets. For example, the anxiety of part 1 seems to culminate in "Against War Movies," in which the speaker states that: I see my husband shooting in Platoon,and there he is again in M*A*S*H (how weirdto hear him talk like Hawkeye Pierce), and soonI spot him everywhere, his body smearedwith mud, his face bloodied. He's now the starof every ship blockade and battle scene—The Fighting 69th, A Bridge Too Far,Three Kings, Das Boot, and Stalag 17.In Stalingrad he's killed, and thenhe's killed in Midway and A Few Good Men.He's burned or gassed, he's shot between the eyes,or shoots himself when he comes home again.Each movie is a training exercise,a scenario for how my husband dies. [End Page 177] This poem not only manages to incorporate cultural references that ground the reader in the immediacy of the speaker's predicament but also does so in a Shakespearean sonnet, reminding us of the corrupting effect war makes on what...

A Decorated Ivory Belt from Tilla Bulak, Southern Uzbekistan

Abstract The ivory belt-plate, one of two found in a burial at the site of Tilla Bulak, Uzbekistan, shows a battle scene between two groups of mounted warriors. It belongs to a small group of figural belt plates from the region and is dated iconographically to the 1st century BC / 1st century AD. The elephant tooth from which it was worked was more than 2000 years old at the time.

Jeszcze włócznia, czy już kopia? Rozważania w kontekście dzieł sztuki europejskiej

The lance is an instantly recognizable medieval weapon. It’s the primary weapon of a medieval knights, the primary he uses in battle. But it’s still not clear when the lance appeared. In most publications its appearance is dated to the 12th c. There are no preserved artifacts and the written sources are not clear on this subject. New informations can be drawn from works of medieval art, especially illustrated manuscripts and architectural decorations. For this deliberation I used iconography dated between the 8th and 14th c. There are three characteristics with which we can distinguish the spear and the lance. The first is the construction of the shaft end. The difference between spear shaft and lance shaft is that the lance shaft had a vamplate, a small circular plate. In many publications it can be read, that this plate was made for protecting the hand. This is of course a misunderstanding. It allowed a firmer grip of the shaft upon impact. There was no need to protect the hand during the duel, because knights were trying to hit the head or the torso of their opponents, not the hand. The second way to recognize the kind of weapon is to analyse how the horsemen uses them. The spears were manipulated with one hand. Horsemen were very often attacking by rising the spear over the head and then striking their opponents from above. Lances were used in a quite different way. Horsemen during the attack had the lances under their arms and struck their enemies facing them. These two polearm techniques can be found on medieval representations. The third characteristic is the shape of the spearhead. In many illustrations it is shown very schematically, therefore very often we can’t identify the type of weapon basing on the presentation of the tip. The only exception is the spearhead of type VI (by Nadolski). The characteristic crosspiece attached to (or slightly below) the bush is quite often marked on the illustrations. In these situations we can be sure, that this weapon is a spear. During the 8th–10th c. mounted units undoubtedly utilized spears, there is no argue about that. On every illustration made at that time which shows a mounted warrior armed with a pole weapon, this weapon is a spear. Around the middle of the 11th c. a very important change in the use of polearms occurred. The Bayeux Tapestry which was made around 1068 depicts horsemen using spears in a manner typical for the lance. One of knights represented in the battle scene holds his spear under his arm and hits his opponent in the face. This is an unquestionable evidence that the evolution of the lance started in the 11th, not the 12th c. Of course I don’t suggest, that the army of William the Conqueror was armed with lances, but that the mentioned work of early medieval art is the oldest evidence of the first step in the evolution of polearms. In this context we should look closer at some types of early medieval spearheads, especially of Nadolski’s type IX, which is relatively short, but massive. Could it be a type of an early lance head? In the 12th and 13th c. the shaft of the lance was developed, the weapon became longer and heavier. Knights represented in art from that time always use their polearms by holding them under their arms. Hunting scenes are the only exceptions. In these cases the horsemen uses their weapons holding them I one hand, above their heads. That proves that they’re using spears. Another important source for this discussion is the Manesse Codex, which was written in the first half of the 14th c. A few illustrations depict duel scenes and “portraits” of knights, who were the main characters of poems contented in the Codex. Some of those illustrations are very accurate, with important details clearly visible. Some of the lances represented here have an additional constructional element, a vamplate. As it was written in the beginning, its presence is one of the essential differences separating the lance from the spear. Is it possible to point the exact time when the lance appeared? Medieval iconography can bring us closer to the truth, but it only allows to identify the ante quem dating. Surely, the first step of the evolution of medieval polearms took place before 1066, before the battle of Hastings that is. But to say exactly how long before the battle took place mounted warriors had already been accustomed to the use of spears in a way specific for the lance – this cannot be determined.

Achilles in Malibu? A Cup Attributed to Skythes

A warrior chasing a horse rider on an Athenian red-figure cup attributed to Skythes in the J. Paul Getty Museum would be a typical depiction of Achilles chasing Troilos but for the fact that both figures are shown wearing Thracian costume. Although this is not unusual for Troilos, it is puzzling for Achilles. This essay presents a number of strategies to interpret Achilles in Thracian garb, utilizing literary sources and the contemporary social context. The connotations of Achilles' foreign appearance are to be understood in contrast to the conventional battle scene on the other side of the cup, where the image of a Thracian warrior recurs as a shield blazon.

Margaret Jewett Burland, Strange Words: Retelling and Reception in the Medieval Roland Textual TraditionStrange Words: Retelling and Reception in the Medieval Roland Textual Tradition. Margaret Jewett Burland. Notre Dame, IN: University of Notre Dame Press, 2007. Pp. ix+332.

<i>Margaret Jewett Burland</i>, Strange Words: Retelling and Reception in the Medieval Roland Textual Tradition<i>Strange Words: Retelling and Reception in the Medieval Roland Textual Tradition</i>. Margaret Jewett Burland. Notre Dame, IN: University of Notre Dame Press, 2007. Pp. ix+332.

The Accidental Historian: Tales of Trash and Treasure (review)

Reviewed by: The Accidental Historian: Tales of Trash and Treasure Dan K. Utley The Accidental Historian: Tales of Trash and Treasure. By Monte Akers. (Lubbock: Texas Tech University Press, 2010. Pp. 240. Illustrations, notes, bibliography, index. ISBN 9780896727083, $29.95 cloth.) An attorney by training and a historian by inclination, Monte Akers has great enthusiasm for the past, and he mines his broad interests effectively to tell remarkable stories, explore the margins of history, and have a good time in the process. With a well-honed sense of humor and an engaging, self-effacing style, he understands how to bring the reader along on his personal journey. His journey is one with no preconceived boundaries that encompasses a healthy range of curiosity extending from archival research and heritage tourism to reenacting and relic hunting. Along the way, the author asks important and provocative questions about the past that challenge conventional historical thinking, and then offers his own unique set of answers based on his experiences and focused insights. Akers’s personal search is both entertaining and enlightening, providing elements reminiscent of both Antiques Roadshow and History Detectives. There is serious history in the book, no doubt, but there are also healthy doses of irony and humor, and they serve to keep the reader in eager anticipation of the next surprise moment. Akers’s special tongue-in-cheek perspective is clearly evident from the opening pages, when he writes about his early experimentation with Civil War reenacting. Describing his chance opportunity to serve as a battle scene extra in the 1980s television mini-series, North and South, Book II, he noted: Charlie [Sullivan] and I were unfettered, unattached, and undisciplined. We each possessed both Federal and Confederate uniforms, we knew that most re-enactment units welcomed additional warm bodies, and we were not shy about asking, or begging, to be allowed to join up with any unit we believed might get on camera that day. We made it our goal for the week to get filmed firing the shots that killed us (8). Akers cuts a wide swath through history with his quandaries about such seemingly disparate topics as Robert E. Lee’s bald pate, sexism on the reenactor battle-field, the poignant relationship between a celebrated general and a five-year-old child, encounters with con men peddling dubious artifacts, the story of a reported Alamo survivor, the value of old letters, and the veracity of recorded rebel yells. The cast of characters he encounters—both past and present—is equally diverse, and they provide important cultural dimensions to the stories. Few of them are a challenge to the author himself, who chronicles with more than a small measure of objectivity his own interesting life in pursuit of the past, which includes well-intentioned efforts at poetry, songwriting, acting, genealogical context, and even a run at local politics. [End Page 207] Akers has a skill for presenting well-told stories, unresolved mysteries, and noteworthy characters, and the results make for compelling reading. In the postscript to the book, he provides a fitting summation of his arguments before the general court of readers: “History—family, local, national and world—moves forward and on, and we must move with it as long as we can, then enjoy the next great adventure in the great cycle. Perhaps then we’ll learn the truth about what really happened, told us by the folks, or spirits, who were there and who knew the value of preserving a good tale” (209). Dan K. Utley Texas State University-San Marcos Copyright © 2011 The Texas State Historical Association

Unveiling the Right Side: The Big Fight

> Once glucose and fatty acids had a big fight; > > They went hammer and tongs at each other's sight. > > Their friends the amino acids tried to intervene, > > But it was of no avail; it became a veritable battle scene. > It all started with palmitate, who accused glucose > > Of not obeying the laws of the land that were in force. > > “You should have gotten into the cells by now,” she cried. > > “They are depleted of their fuel while you are strutting outside.” > “I didn't ask you for advice,” replied glucose in his tweet. > > “I am the last person on earth to drag my tired feet. > > I have tried time and again to see if I could breach the wall, > > But the plasma membrane barriers suddenly seem too tall.” > Glucose had in fact approached the adipose tissue asking to be used, > > But for some strange reason the adipocytes had flatly refused. > > With the …