Rather than being the lawless barbarian society that history and popular culture have painted it, medieval Scandinavian culture was complex and nuanced. This book fundamentally challenges our stereotypes of the Vikings, and interrogates the use of a “rhetoric of reasonableness” (hóf) in medieval Nordic society to give voice to this hitherto silenced tradition.Civic rhetoric relied heavily on hóf to keep community customs manageable. In small towns and villages without central bureaucracies, reasonableness became important to the peaceful functioning of civil society.Legal rhetoric was also based on hóf. If civic actions became potentially violent, then the courts needed means of redress, and a way to maintain the peace in the locality. The Scandinavian tradition of court cases appears both in the early laws and in several sagas, allowing a picture of the rhetorical stance of hóf to emerge through Nordic legal processes.

This pioneering monograph provocatively explodes current research paradigms for the modern and the medieval by showing that Twitter shares key similarities with medieval literary forms, texts, and narrative techniques. Analyzing tweets with medieval texts, and vice versa, Spencer-Hall initiates readers into an innovative methodology of interdisciplinary literary criticism, posing vital questions about the politics of medievalism today. Chapters include brand-new readings of The Owl and the Nightingale, the Chastelaine de Vergi, and Marie de France’s Laüstic, and arresting insights into troubadour style, Margery Kempe, and #MedievalTwitter. The book culminates in a medieval(ist) reading of Twitter’s premature demise, and Elon Musk’s medievalism. Throughout, points of contact and divergence are dissected, re-contextualizing the socio-cultural meaning of communication and texts across the temporal divide.

This book represents a risky experiment in art-history writing. It takes objects of Byzantine art—manuscript illustration, frescos, mosaic, sculpture—and reads them through the lenses of disability studies, media studies, and gender studies in order to reveal something about their significance not only in that historical culture, but also in our own. Moreover, it uses lenses of personal history and self-reflection as a way to model an open-ended and faceted art history. Modern works of film, fiction, and art likewise appear frequently so that the Byzantine objects can emerge as both more strange and more familiar, and as both of the past and of our world. Their capacity for holding multiple times, generating multiple meanings, and for multiple subjectivities is fully embraced, and perhaps a different kind of art history emerges, one that eschews argument and mastery for humility, openness, empathy—thinking with, rather than about.

Rather than being the lawless barbarian society that history and popular culture have painted it, medieval Scandinavian culture was complex and nuanced. This book fundamentally challenges our stereotypes of the Vikings, and interrogates the use of a “rhetoric of reasonableness” (hóf) in medieval Nordic society to give voice to this hitherto silenced tradition.Civic rhetoric relied heavily on hóf to keep community customs manageable. In small towns and villages without central bureaucracies, reasonableness became important to the peaceful functioning of civil society.Legal rhetoric was also based on hóf. If civic actions became potentially violent, then the courts needed means of redress, and a way to maintain the peace in the locality. The Scandinavian tradition of court cases appears both in the early laws and in several sagas, allowing a picture of the rhetorical stance of hóf to emerge through Nordic legal processes.

This pioneering monograph provocatively explodes current research paradigms for the modern and the medieval by showing that Twitter shares key similarities with medieval literary forms, texts, and narrative techniques. Analyzing tweets with medieval texts, and vice versa, Spencer-Hall initiates readers into an innovative methodology of interdisciplinary literary criticism, posing vital questions about the politics of medievalism today. Chapters include brand-new readings of The Owl and the Nightingale, the Chastelaine de Vergi, and Marie de France’s Laüstic, and arresting insights into troubadour style, Margery Kempe, and #MedievalTwitter. The book culminates in a medieval(ist) reading of Twitter’s premature demise, and Elon Musk’s medievalism. Throughout, points of contact and divergence are dissected, re-contextualizing the socio-cultural meaning of communication and texts across the temporal divide.

This book represents a risky experiment in art-history writing. It takes objects of Byzantine art—manuscript illustration, frescos, mosaic, sculpture—and reads them through the lenses of disability studies, media studies, and gender studies in order to reveal something about their significance not only in that historical culture, but also in our own. Moreover, it uses lenses of personal history and self-reflection as a way to model an open-ended and faceted art history. Modern works of film, fiction, and art likewise appear frequently so that the Byzantine objects can emerge as both more strange and more familiar, and as both of the past and of our world. Their capacity for holding multiple times, generating multiple meanings, and for multiple subjectivities is fully embraced, and perhaps a different kind of art history emerges, one that eschews argument and mastery for humility, openness, empathy—thinking with, rather than about.