Fæhða Gemyndig: Hostile Acts vs. Enmity

3 April 2015

This article of mine was published in the journal Neophilologus in March 2015 (online; print publication date is TBA). It’s behind a paywall, but the copyright conditions allow me to make an earlier draft available, which can be downloaded here.

The topic is pretty esoteric and will probably not be of interest to most of you, but if you’re so inclined to read it, knock yourselves out.

Abstract:

This article systematically examines all sixty-seven instances of the word fǣhþ in the Old English corpus and proposes that instead of the traditional definition of “feud, hostility, enmity,” the word more usually means (1) a specific hostile act or offense, especially homicide, (2) the punishment inflicted for such an offense, or (3) general violence or mayhem. It also examines the lexicographic history of the word and why the traditional definition has lingered despite being problematic. The analysis begins with the word’s use in Anglo-Saxon law codes, where it has a more concrete and precise definition than in poetry and because in poetic works fǣhþ is often used with verbs commonly found in legal usage, such as stǣlan (to accuse, charge with a crime). From the legal codes the analysis moves on to other prose and poetic works, where the word is often used more figuratively, encompassing concepts such as sin—offenses against God—and other unsavory acts. This re-examination of fǣhþ’s meaning usefully checks the impulse to translate it as “feud” in contexts that do not support the idea of perpetual or ongoing hostility, while still allowing translators to deliberately choose to use “feud” or “enmity” where the context justifies it. Recognition that fǣhþ usually means “hostile act” also opens new interpretations of its poetic uses, such as how a connotation of crime affects the view of characters who commit it, the emphasis on injury it introduces, and the legal associations the word brings into the poems.

An End For DARE?

30 March 2015

It seems that the Dictionary of American Regional English is once again on the chopping block. The project narrowly escaped that fate two years ago, but is once again on the brink of ending.

That in a country as wealthy as the United States, that a scholarly project so important, and so relatively inexpensive, as DARE could go without funding is a crime.

The print dictionary has been published, but that ‘s not the end of the project. The web site needs to be maintained and the data, originally collected on paper, needs to be digitized. And then there is the updating for new editions as American English changes.

SCOTUS and the Adverbial "Way"

26 March 2015

Lowering the Bar is one of my favorite blogs. But since it deals primarily with legal humor, I don’t mention it much.

Yesterday, however, Kevin Underhill, the blogger and lawyer, posted a review of the history of the adverbial way in legal opinions. In a recent opinion, Justice Kagan wrote:

Moreover, Omnicare way overstates both the looseness of the inquiry Congress has mandated and the breadth of liability that approach threatens.

Underhill points out that this is not is not the first time Kagan has used the word in a Supreme Court opinion. Back in 2013 she wrote:

Amex has put Italian Colors to this choice: Spend way, way, way more money than your claim is worth, or relinquish your Sherman Act rights.

Lower courts have used way in this fashion since 1998, or 1992 if you count cases where the way was placed in quotation marks. And the OED records it in general usage back as far as 1941.

Early English Text Society

17 February 2015

Here is a nice blog post about the 150th anniversary of the Early English Text Society. EETS publishes scholarly editions of Old and Middle English texts which are an invaluable resource to anyone studying medieval language and literature. (I just did a count, and I have seventeen EETS volumes on my shelves.) Without EETS most of these works would never be found outside of manuscripts held in a handful of libraries in Europe. The EETS web site is here.

Editing old texts is not the same thing as the editorial and copy editing process that new publications go through. Let’s take a look at a typical EETS publication, Byrhtferth’s Enchiridion, EETS S.S. 15, published in 1995, and edited by Peter S. Baker and Michael Lapidge, to see how it differs.

Byrhtferth was a late tenth/early eleventh century monk at Ramsey Abbey in Cambridgeshire. The Enchiridion (lit. handbook) is a manual on astronomy and the calendar. The work is preserved in one manuscript, Oxford, Bodleian Library, Ashmole 328, and excerpts appear in two other extant manuscripts. One of the roles an editor of a text like this has is reconciling differences between manuscript versions and correcting scribal error.

The EETS volume opens with the usual stuff, a preface and list of abbreviations used in the text. The introduction gives historical background to the text, detailing what we know of the Byrhtferth’s life and writings and information on medieval astronomy and computus, the science of calculating the calendar and dates. So far, this is all the type of material that one might expect to find in any edition of a work.

But scholarly editions of medieval texts typically include other material that you wouldn’t find in, say, an edition of Darwin’s On the Origin of Species. The introduction includes a section on the source material that Byrhtferth used to write his manual (in this case, mainly the writings of Bede, but there are others too). So the edition is useful in tracing intellectual history. There is also a section on language, which outlines the dialect it was written in and the grammatical and lexical peculiarities of the text. And there is a section on the manuscripts, discussing when and where they were copied, detailing how they are arranged and the scripts used and scribal hands that copied them. Finally there is a bibliography of other books and articles about the Byrhtferth and his book.

Then we get to the text of Byrhtferth’s book. Baker and Lapidge also provide a translation in addition to the original text, which is atypical for scholarly editions like those produced by EETS. One of the reasons for including a translation of Byrhtferth’s work may be that the text is in both Old English and Latin. (Most scholars of Old English, like me, have a good, working knowledge of Latin, but are not experts. It is rare to find someone who is really good at both.) Another may be the technical nature of the subject matter, which requires a rather specialized vocabulary and is challenging even to those expert in the languages. Translations are more common in older EETS volumes, those produced in the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries than they are in those published in recent decades.

The editors include a section of passage-by-passage commentary on the text, discussing scribal errors and anomalies and cruxes, detailing sources for that section, and providing other material needed to fully understand the passage.

Finally, the book includes a couple of appendices containing extracts from Byrhtferth’s computus and from another Old English computus, and it contains three glossaries: Old English, Latin, and proper names.

With the exception of the translation, all of this material is what you expect to find in a scholarly edition of a medieval work. There is nothing unusual about this volume in the type of material it contains. And you can see that it is useful in a wide variety of fields, including linguistics and language, history, and literature (although this one isn’t a literary text).

So you see that EETS volumes, and those like them produced by university presses and other scholarly publishing houses, are extremely valuable resources. They will also never make anyone’s bestseller list and the subject matter is of no interest to commercial publishing houses. You can turn a profit by publishing scholarly editions of Chaucer, but he’s about the only medieval writer for which that is true. So EETS and institutions like it fill a void.