182 resultados para Wit and humor, Medieval.
Resumo:
Mollusk shells are frequently radiocarbon dated and provide reliable calibrated age ranges when the regional marine reservoir correction is well-established. For mollusks from an estuarine environment the reservoir correction may be significantly different than the regional marine reservoir correction due to the input of bedrock or soil derived carbonates. Some mollusk species such as oysters are tolerant of a significant range of salinities which makes it difficult to determine which reservoir correction is appropriate. A case study is presented of an anomalous radiocarbon age for an oyster shell paint dish found in the fabric of the ruined nave walls of St Mary's Church, Shoreham-by-Sea, West Sussex, England. Stable isotopes (delta O-18 and delta C-13) were used to establish the type of environment in which the oyster had lived. Paired marine and terrestrial samples from a nearby medieval site were radiocarbon dated to provide an appropriate reservoir correction.
Resumo:
he Science of Lost Medieval Gaelic Graveyard tells the story of the discovery in 2003 of a graveyard and the foundations of a small forgotten stone church at Ballyhanna, in Ballyshannon, Co. Donegal, as part of the N15 Bundoran–Ballyshannon Bypass archaeological works. This led to the excavation of one of the largest collections of medieval burials ever undertaken on this island. Over 1,200 individuals were excavated from the site at Ballyhanna during the winter of 2003–4, representing 1,000 years of burial through the entire Irish medieval period. The discovery led to the establishment of a cross-border research collaboration—the Ballyhanna Research Project—between Queen’s University Belfast and the Institute of Technology, Sligo, which has brought to life this lost Gaelic graveyard.
This book shows how cutting-edge scientific research may aid our understanding and interpretation of archaeology and reveal new insights into past societies. For example, the use of ancient DNA analysis represented the first biomolecular archaeological evaluation of a medieval population to date and provided evidence that cystic fibrosis was much less prevalent in the medieval period than today. The Science of Lost Medieval Gaelic Graveyard is about a community who lived in Gaelic Ireland, about their lifestyles, health and diet. It tells us of their deaths and of their burial traditions, and through examining all of these aspects, it reveals the ebb and flow of their lives.
The book is accompanied by a CD-ROM which includes supplementary information from the Ballyhanna Research Project and the original excavation and survey reports for all of the archaeological sites on the N15 Bundoran–Ballyshannon Bypass.
Resumo:
Ten medieval permanent teeth were subjected to incremental dentine sectioning and stable isotope analysis to investigate dietary changes in high resolution. In addition to this, eight increments were also selected for 14C measurements to examine possible intra-individual age differences. Results reveal the cessation of weaning, various dietary profiles and in some cases significantly different 14C ages obtained from a single tooth. This case study illustrates how 14C measurements can function as a proxy alongside the commonly used carbon and nitrogen stable isotope values to interpret the diet of past individuals
Resumo:
This chapter argues that the scribes of Lebor na hUidre show a persistent concern with eschatology, and in particular with the salvation of souls and the Last Judgement. In some cases the texts are overtly religious, but in a substantial number of cases they are explicitly or implicitly historical. The pivotal event is the mission of St Patrick, which is identified in several of the texts examined here as the origin of Christianity in Ireland. Pagans are repeatedly brought into contact with Christians/saints or other representatives of God, revealing the victory of Christianity and the subjugation of paganism. It is argued that the stories are to be placed within the medieval western theory of history according to which God’s plan for humanity was revealed through a study of the events of the past.
Resumo:
The intertwined processes of globalization and capitalism are fundamentally material in expression and are central to understandings of the modern world (however defined). Over the last 50 years, post-medieval archaeologists have engaged directly with the materiality of these broad-scale processes, initially from the standpoint of empirically driven descriptive studies and latterly with more interpretative approaches which challenge and stretch disciplinary boundaries. As later historical archaeology is increasingly characterized by a theoretically and geographically diverse set of practices, insights into the material resonances of globalization and capitalism have become increasingly sophisticated and more broadly relevant to the present day.
Resumo:
In 1858, a volume entitled Midnight Scenes and Social Photographs – being sketches of life in the streets, wynds and dens of the city of Glasgow was published under the pseudonym of ‘Shadow’ by Alexander Brown, a Glaswegian flâneur and reformer. Its frontispiece is an etching which depicts a theatre-like proscenium arch whose curtains have been withdrawn to reveal to the audience all the poverty, destitution and disorder that one was likely to find after dark in the insalubrious quarters of the city. At the extreme left-hand side, partly obscured by the curtain a silhouetted figure stands behind an unwieldy camera perched on a tripod. Distinctly unaffected by the mêlée, an arm is calmly raised and a finger precisely arched in the moment before the shutter is clicked and the scene committed to record. The volume, however, relies exclusively on textual descriptions to evoke the underside of the city and contains no photographs at all. Instead, the use of the word photograph in the title can be understood as a metaphor for detached scientific objectivity, a quality much celebrated by nineteenth-century reformers and investigators of social ills. As it happened, a decade after Shadow disappeared into the labyrinthine back-lands of Old Town Glasgow, he was followed there by a real photographer. In 1868, Thomas Annan was commissioned by the City Improvements Trust to take photographs of the Old Town in its last moments of existence before it was pulled down under a series of legislative acts. But perhaps paradoxically, given Shadow’s faith in the analytical properties of photography, Annan’s work seems to refute much of the material contained in Midnight Scenes and other similar tracts. Instead of the dens, shebeens, labyrinths and rowdy crowds described by Shadow, Annan’s depictions of the Old Town convey a static, calm environment, one which is often sparsely inhabited by a curious but apparently orderly population.
Taking account of the sensational tendencies of many reformists’ texts, this paper investigates the discrepancies between the two representations, focussing in particular on the constraints which operated on Annan during his commission. It argues that Annan’s compositions – which became very influential on other 19th century photographers of everyday life such as John Thomson or Jacob Riis – far from being dispassionate analytical works, emerged as a result of a matrix of factors which included: photographic and artistic precedents; Annan’s own predilections as a photographer; technological limitations; the nature of the commission from the City Improvements Trust and political climate in which it was given; the medieval urban fabric in which he had to operate; and, perhaps, most importantly, the identity of the Old Towns inhabitants themselves.
Resumo:
In 1862, Glasgow Corporation initiated the first of a series of three legislative acts which would become known collectively as the City Improvements Acts. Despite having some influence on the nature of the built fabric on the expanding city as a whole, the most extensive consequences of these acts was reserved for one specific area of the city, the remnants of the medieval Old Town. As the city had expanded towards all points of the compass in a regular, grid-iron structure throughout the nineteenth century, the Old Town remained singularly as a densely wrought fabric of medieval wynds, vennels, oblique passageways and accelerated tenementalisation. Here, as the rest of the city began to assume the form of an ordered entity, visible and classifiable, one could still find and addresses such as ‘Bridgegate, No. 29, backland, stair first left, three up, right lobby, door facing’ (quoted in Pacione, 1995).
Unsurprisingly, this place, where proximity to the midden (dung-heap) was considered an enviable position, was seen by the authorities as a major health hazard and a source not only of cholera, but also of the more alarming typhoid epidemic of 1842. Accordingly, the demolitions which occurred in the backlands of the Old Town under the first of the acts, the Glasgow Police Act of 1862, were justified on health and medical grounds. But disease was not the only social problem thought to issue from this district. Reports from social reformers including Fredrick Engels suggested that the decay of the area’s physical fabric could be extended to the moral profile of its inhabitants. This was in such a state of degeneracy that there were calls for a nearby military barracks to be relocated to more salubrious climes because troops were routinely coming into contact ‘with the most dissolute and profligate portion of the population’ (Peter Clonston, Lord Provost, June 1861). Perhaps more worrying for the city fathers, however, was that the barracks’ arsenal was seen as a potential source of arms for the militant and often illegal cotton workers’ unions and organisations who inhabited the Old Town as well as the districts to the east. In fact, the Old Town and East End had been the site of numerous working class actions and riots since 1787, including a strike of 60,000 workers in 1820, 100,000 in 1838, and the so-called Bread Riots of 1848 where shouts of ‘Vive La Revolution’ were reported in the Gallowgate.
The events in Paris in 1848 precipitated Baron Hausmann’s interventions into that city. The boulevards were in turn visited by members of Glasgow Corporation and ultimately, it can be argued, provided an example for Old Town Glasgow. This paper suggests that the city improvement acts carried a similarly complex and pervasive agenda, one which embodied not only health, class conflict and sexual morality but also the more local condition of sectarianism. And, like in Paris, these were played out spatially in a extensive reconfiguration of the urban fabric of the Old Town which, through the creation of new streets and a railway yard, not only made it more amenable to large scale military manoeuvres but also, opened up the area to capitalist accumulation. By the end of the works, the medieval heritage of the Old Town had been almost completely razed, the working class and Catholic East End had, through the insertion of the railway yard, been isolated from the city centre and approximately 70,000 people had been made homeless.