On his book Blood Royal: Dynastic Politics in Medieval Europe
Cover Interview of November 18, 2020
Lastly
If I were asked “why read about the Middle Ages?”, I think I
would give three reasons. First, that we can see there the roots of some things
that are important in the modern world: representative government,
universities, corporate towns, reading glasses, clocks, for example. To look
for origins is a natural impulse. Second, that we there encounter a world quite
different from our own, sometimes dramatically so. In trial by ordeal, an
accused person might be required to carry a red-hot iron three paces, then have
their hand bound and inspected after three days. If it was healing cleanly, the
accused was innocent, if not, not. This is not a current practice but in the
early Middle Ages it was and demands some kind of explanation—both of why it
was and why it is no longer. To try to understand societies different from our
own is a basic form of human inquiry. The social science of anthropology was
born from that impulse, but it applies equally well as a description of the
historian’s task. The third reason for reading about the Middle Ages is that it
is a period full of wonderful stories and fascinating people.
I would hope that Blood Royal would be of interest
under all these three headings. It does explain features of modern Europe, such
as why France and Germany are separate countries and why Spain and Portugal are
separate countries. In both cases the explanation lies in family disputes:
between brothers in the ninth century, between sisters in the twelfth. And the
whole book is premised on the idea that the dynastic system is alien to modern
western democracies and needs to be explained to audiences in those countries.
In the few surviving European monarchies, the royal family is sometimes a
subject of interest or gossip, but in the dynastic world it was central to the
whole political system. And, of course, I do think the book is full of stories
and characters of intrinsic interest.
Before doing research for the book, I had never come across
the document issued by Petronilla, queen of Aragon, in 1152. It begins, “I,
Petronilla, queen of Aragon, lying and labouring in childbirth at Barcelona…”,
and then makes provision for the child that was imminently expected, whether it
is a boy that “is to proceed from my womb, by God’s will”, or “if a daughter
should proceed from my womb”, and giving 2,000 gold coins to the churches of
Aragon and Barcelona to pray for her. She gave birth to a healthy boy who become
king after her, and “the royal seed” of Aragon was thus preserved. She was
fifteen years old. It demonstrates very well the way that the political system
of medieval Europe was founded on the female body. “Dynasty—where kinship and
politics meet”, as the kind author of one of the blurbs on the book jacket puts
it.
[T]he Holocaust transformed our whole way of thinking about war and heroism. War is no longer a proving ground for heroism in the same way it used to be. Instead, war now is something that we must avoid at all costs—because genocides often take place under the cover of war. We are no longer all potential soldiers (though we are that too), but we are all potential victims of the traumas war creates. This, at least, is one important development in the way Western populations envision war, even if it does not always predominate in the thinking of our political leaders.Carolyn J. Dean, Interview of February 01, 2011
The dominant premise in evolution and economics is that a person is being loyal to natural law if he or she attends to self’s interest and welfare before being concerned with the needs and demands of family or community. The public does not realize that this statement is not an established scientific principle but an ethical preference. Nonetheless, this belief has created a moral confusion among North Americans and Europeans because the evolution of our species was accompanied by the disposition to worry about kin and the collectives to which one belongs.Jerome Kagan, Interview of September 17, 2009
Lastly
If I were asked “why read about the Middle Ages?”, I think I would give three reasons. First, that we can see there the roots of some things that are important in the modern world: representative government, universities, corporate towns, reading glasses, clocks, for example. To look for origins is a natural impulse. Second, that we there encounter a world quite different from our own, sometimes dramatically so. In trial by ordeal, an accused person might be required to carry a red-hot iron three paces, then have their hand bound and inspected after three days. If it was healing cleanly, the accused was innocent, if not, not. This is not a current practice but in the early Middle Ages it was and demands some kind of explanation—both of why it was and why it is no longer. To try to understand societies different from our own is a basic form of human inquiry. The social science of anthropology was born from that impulse, but it applies equally well as a description of the historian’s task. The third reason for reading about the Middle Ages is that it is a period full of wonderful stories and fascinating people.
I would hope that Blood Royal would be of interest under all these three headings. It does explain features of modern Europe, such as why France and Germany are separate countries and why Spain and Portugal are separate countries. In both cases the explanation lies in family disputes: between brothers in the ninth century, between sisters in the twelfth. And the whole book is premised on the idea that the dynastic system is alien to modern western democracies and needs to be explained to audiences in those countries. In the few surviving European monarchies, the royal family is sometimes a subject of interest or gossip, but in the dynastic world it was central to the whole political system. And, of course, I do think the book is full of stories and characters of intrinsic interest.
Before doing research for the book, I had never come across the document issued by Petronilla, queen of Aragon, in 1152. It begins, “I, Petronilla, queen of Aragon, lying and labouring in childbirth at Barcelona…”, and then makes provision for the child that was imminently expected, whether it is a boy that “is to proceed from my womb, by God’s will”, or “if a daughter should proceed from my womb”, and giving 2,000 gold coins to the churches of Aragon and Barcelona to pray for her. She gave birth to a healthy boy who become king after her, and “the royal seed” of Aragon was thus preserved. She was fifteen years old. It demonstrates very well the way that the political system of medieval Europe was founded on the female body. “Dynasty—where kinship and politics meet”, as the kind author of one of the blurbs on the book jacket puts it.