Getting Medieval

Day One at BEA

All I can say is: Oh my gawd! Books, books, and more books! Feeling a part of this crazy publishing thing for the first time, I wore a perpetual smile on my face as I beheld the amazing landscape of books and people intimately partnered with books.

The first thing I did was make a beeline for the St. Martin’s booth. (If you have never been to the LA Convention Center—and I haven’t—you must appreciate how very big this place is. It’s as big as an airport. Or at least two substantial terminals). Row on row on row, with archways leading to the next publisher family. I spotted the big Macmillan sign which is the parent company of St. Martin’s and many other houses and I was pleased that it seemed to be the busiest, just crammed with people. But this is when I realized that this is indeed a “trade” show. There were small counters behind which sales people stood, ready to pounce where there was the least little interest. Conference tables nestled here and there where the sales staff can reel them in.

At any rate, it really wasn’t the same kind of booth as, say, they have at the Festival of Books. So though I expected to hang around and pitch my own wares it wouldn’t have been appropriate and I would have been underfoot. Instead, I met some of the staff, introduced myself, and asked if I could leave my promo pieces there, which they were glad to take.

After that I wandered the aisles, looking at what was on offer, from DC Comics graphic novels, to Spanish translations, to children’s books, to the huge Ingrams and Baker and Taylor booths, and everything in-between!

Then I ran into Patricia Wynn, of all people (remember, we shared a panel at Bouchercon, Alaska). That was a very pleasant surprise. So nice to run into someone I knew in that whole Goliath of a place.

After wending my way through the main hall, it was eleven by then, but since I had gotten up at 5 am to get me and my hubby going (I had to drop him off at work) and then trek to LA, it was time to eat. I shared a table with a gentleman who was working on becoming a literary agent. We chatted a bit about the ups and downs of the industry and then it was time for me to see about the MWA booth. Met Bob Levinson, reacquainted myself with Margery Flax (again, from Alaska) and a few others. But MWA wouldn’t let me leave my promos at the booth. Tut, tut. Hopefully next year I’ll be signing there.

Since this hall seemed more devoted to education and children’s books, I let myself out and sought out the room for my first panel.

“The Future of Reading” which was touted as a “lively discussion of how social networking and related technology are poised to become the saviors of book publishing...” An editor, publisher, author, and librarian...walk into a bar...no, no. Wait. That's not it. Anyway, it would have been a lively discussion, if moderator Chris Kenneally*, Director, Author & Creator Relations at Copyright Clearance Center, had not interviewed each panelist one at a time instead of allowing a discussion. But no matter. Our moderator quoted a number, saying that there were 277,000 new book titles published in 2007, with POD as a growing presence. So if there is no future in reading, who are reading those books?

Panelists were publisher Paul Dry (forgive my spelling. There were no name plates.) of Paul Dry Books, Anna Maria Alessi from Harper Collins audio and ebooks, Deborah Kovacs Vice President of Publishing at Walden Media and also a children’s author, and the librarian, the lively Irene McDermott.

Paul Dry started things off by talking about the “phenomenon of too-muchness” in America, where every whim is instantaneously met or at least sought after. Overabundance creates distractions—internet, et al—so what does that mean about reading a book from beginning to end?

So what is the future of reading? “The future of reading is as assured as the future of eating,” he said. As long as we find the books nourishing and pass it on to the next generation.

Anna Maria Alessi explained about the new internet TV studio just activated at Harper Collins. The moderator pondered that he thought Harper Collins was a book publisher. Alessi responded by saying that they were “author publishers”, reinforcing what we’ve all been hearing lately that authors, now more than ever, are selling themselves as “brand names”. The importance of a web presence was emphasized yet again. “Authors want to be read,” she said. “That’s where we start the conversation.” The end goal, she explained, is more readership, and if this can be achieved by a podcast interview, a blog, a web site, then that’s what Harper Collins is going to "partner with the author" to help achieve.

When the moderator quoted Steve Jobs as saying that no one reads anymore, Alessi poo-pooed that, intimating that it was more likely Jobs was working on his own publishing scheme. Though she admitted, reading “long books are likely to diminish.” Alessi clarified by saying that getting away from the long book and “unbundling a book is the wave of the future.”

Deborah Kovacs defended Walden Media’s move into movie-making (Holes, The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe) with the idea that movies are a “ruse to get children to read.” They prefer the kids to read first, of course, then the movie serves as "an afterward."

Irene McDermott did not agree when the moderator asked if libraries were becoming museums. “The exact opposite has occurred,” she contended. “Across the nation, circulation has risen 50-60%--book clubs, internet use.” She said that they have become “co-conspirators” with publishers to help children develop their brains through reading. She agreed that library spaces themselves need to lend themselves to this new era, where the older readers need a quiet area, the youth need to study, do homework on the internet, and to talk with friends. Architecture can remedy that, she said, by physically separating the two groups into separate areas.

An interesting panel, to be sure. After this I simply waited for the next panel, which turned out to be Amazon.com’s CEO Jeff Bezos in conversation with Chris Anderson of Wired Magazine.

Actually, what it was, was a 40-some-odd minute ad for the Kindle, their e-reader. But, this is a trade show, Jeri, so go with the flow a bit. He did make some startling points:

• You can think of a book, and in 60 seconds you can have it and read it from anywhere.

•Their goal is to eventually have every book ever printed in any language available to purchase and downloaded within 60 seconds.

Carol Reedy of Simon and Schuster seemed ready to accommodate. She spoke and said they now have 4,000 e-book titles and plan on getting 5,000 more by the end of the year.

What’s it going to take to get more ebooks on Kindle? “Patience and relentlessness,” says Bezos.

The only tough question Anderson posed to Bezos was when he asked about Amazon’s POD policy on wanting to force small publishers to use their technology or bye-bye on the amazon listing. “In order to be a pioneer,” said the CEO, “you have to be willing to be misunderstood.” It doesn’t make any sense, he explained, to not be able to print POD in their own fulfillment center and marry a POD and standard published books into one shipping box.

There you have it. If you don’t understand that logic you are, apparently, not a pioneer.

And so, my first day came to a close. But tomorrow is another day. I’ll be stopping back for more panels and then an evening at the Magic Castle.

Some other images: Jackie Collin's bus; the librarian lounge with real live librarians corralled inside; and a very creative booth of fantasy books (looks like something from Diagon Alley):

  

* A correction: Christopher Kenneally contacted me and (among other things) corrected my misspelling of his name (it's correct now). I would like to clarify a few things. He is Director, Author & Creator Relations for Copyright Clearance Center, a non-profit organization that "promotes respect for intellectual property..." Beyondthebook.com "explores issues facing the information content industry..." Thank you, Chris, for sending me these corrections and for being a good sport.  

Book Expo 2008

I will be at Book Expo this coming Friday and Saturday. I've never been. I don't know if St. Martin's will have a seat for me at their booth. I don't know a lot! But I promise to report to you about it with my thoughts and observations. I have little promo thingys to pass out along with--wait for it--my bookmarks! If you see me there (I'll be wearing a black Veil of Lies t-shirt) stop me and say hello!

Medieval Poetry

A bit of medieval poetry from the Viking Portable Poetry edition of Medieval and Renaissance Poets: Langland to Spenser, 1961. Author unknown.

 

 

 

 

 

Spring Song

Lenten is come with love to towne,

with blosmen and with brides roune,

That al this blisse bringeth.

Dayeseyes in this dales,

Notes swete of nightegales.            5

Uch fowl song singeth.

The threstekcok him threteth oo,

Away is huere winter wo,

When woderove springeth.

This fowles singeth ferly fele.          10

Ant wliteth on huere winne wele,

That al the wode ringeth.

The rose raileth hire rode,

The leves on the lighte wode

Waxen al with wille.                       15

The mone mandeth hire bleo,

The lilye is lossom to seo,

The fenil and the fille.

Wowes this wilde drakes:

Males murgeth huere makes,        20

On strem that striketh stille.

Mody meneth, so doth mo:

Ichot ich am on of tho

For love that likes ille.

The mone mandeth hire light;          25

So doth the semly sonne bright,

When brides singeth breme.

Deawes donketh the downes;

Deores whispers dernes rounes,

Domes for te deme;                                   30

Wormes woweth under cloude;

Wimmen waxeth wounder proude,

So wel hit wol hem seme.

Yef me shal wonte wille of on,

This wunne wele I wol forgon,                   35

Ant wight in wode be fleme.

2 briddes roune—birds’ voice, 4 this—these, 6 uch—each, 7: i.e., The song-thrush chides constantly, 8 huere—their, 9 woderove—woodruff, 10 ferly fele—wondrous many, 11: i.e., ? and warble on their wealth and joy, 13 raileth hire rode—puts on her hue, 15 wille—delight, 16 mendeth hire bleo—sends forth her radiance, 17 lossom to seo—lovely to see, 19 wowes—woo; this—these, 20 males—ms: miles; murgeth heure makes—gladden their mates, 21 on-ms:ase; striketh—flows, 22: i.e., Passionate (lovers) complain, so do others, 23 ichot—I know; ich—I; tho—those, 24 likes ille, i.e., are troubled, 27 breme—clearly, 28 donketh—moisten, 29: i.e., animals whisper dark secrets; whisperes, ms: with heure, 30: i.e., in order to settle their affairs, 31 woweth—woo; cloude—ground, 32 wounder—wondrous, 33: i.e., ? so well it (their pride) will suit them, 34: i.e., if I must do without my delight in one of them, 35 wunne wele—weakth of joy; wol—will, 36 wight—creature; fleme—fugitive.

A Million Little Words

 

A scathing review full of vitriol and acid. Not about my book, thank God. No, this is for a new book by James Frey, the same fellow who brought you A Million Little Pieces that was supposed to be a memoir, but...oh yeah. It wasn't. The same man who got reamed by Oprah on television. The same man whom HarperCollins gave a million little dollars for his next book? Are they crazy??? But fear not. If this LA Times reviewer is any indication, maybe HarperCollins has learned a million little lessons from this at last.

I have never read a review quite like this. It opens thus:  "Bright Shiny Morning is a terrible book. One of the worst I've ever read." And it pretty much goes downhill from there.

I'm going to try to stay on David Ulin's good side.

You can read the whole review here.   

Top Ten Myths About the Middle Ages

I think whether we know it or not, we all harbor myths about the Middle Ages, that time period usually considered between 500 and 1500 AD. And since I write medieval mysteries and spend a lot of time researching the era, I thought we might spend some time going over those tired myths that crop up from time to time; those hackneyed fallacies that travel the net and maybe even into the conversation around your dinner table. Let’s take them in no particular order:

1. People didn’t bathe—in fact, bath houses were open to all. The whole city of Bath in England started out life in Celtic times, pre-Roman, and were valued for their curative waters (it was the only hot springs in Britain, so it must be from the gods, right?) but the baths themselves were in continuous use right through to the Georgian period. Of course, Bath’s hot springs were seen as special, even religious. Public baths and saunas were social in nature while at the same time giving you a chance to clean up a bit. Washing hands before meals was always the custom, and though full immersion in a tub of heated bath water was strictly for the rich, the common folk took spit baths often. The idea that a person would bathe only once a year is absurd. Are our noses any different from medieval times? Stink is stink no matter the era.

2. Meat was covered in sauces because it was rotten. Lack of refrigeration made storing food a problem, true, but it was not insurmountable. Meat was salted and dried. Vegetables and fruits were preserved. There certainly was an abundance of dried foods, beans, barley, oats to be used on demand. But there was also fresh fish and shellfish to be had, rabbits kept, doves, chickens, geese, ducks, wild fowl, wild boar, venison. The common man who kept a few pigs would wait to slaughter the family pig in the winter when all the other preserved meats were consumed, which would in turn supply a great deal of preserved meat to last throughout the winter: hams, sausages, hocks, etc. Meat, when butchered, was hung and aged without refrigeration. If you lived in a market town or in London, for instance, you shopped daily where fresh, aged meat was available at market. But sauces were employed simply to make things taste better, different,--just like today. Bam! They’re just kicking it up a notch. And the spices that were used are a bit different than what we’d expect today for European cookery. Many spices that we would only use in desserts—Cinnamon, cardamom, allspice, nutmeg—would be used with meats, along with dried fruits like apricots, figs, raisins. Perhaps these were a Mediterranean or Moorish influence—many of the recipes remind me of Moroccan cooking, in fact—but it might have more influence in what was available at certain times of the year, how much of a certain ingredient was stored and used.

3. Flat Earth. – Even the simplest peasant could use the proof of his eyes. Just why did a ship sink below the horizon? You can tell by the shadows that the moon is an orb. Orbs, you say? You mean those things kings were depicted holding in paintings to show their Christian dominion over the world, a global world?

The best known work of medieval thought, both in its own time and now, is Thomas Aquinas' Summa Theologica from the mid 1200s. In book 1, question 1, article 1 of this treatise, the roundness of the earth is given as an obvious example of a well-known scientific truth. “For the astronomer and the physicist both may prove the same conclusion: that the earth, for instance, is round: the astronomer by means of mathematics (i.e. abstracting from matter), but the physicist by means of matter itself.”

Columbus did not sail the ocean blue in the year of 1492 to discover a new world or to prove the earth was round. He was looking for a new route to the orient. When he refused to believe he was somewhere new, he named the inhabitants “Indians” because he tried to convince himself he was in India. He in fact failed in his mission and did not completely appreciate what he ran into.

4. Lawlessness—pitch-forked and torch waving peasants in uprisings; unbridled thievery on the streets; highwaymen stalking the woods. Though there was a fair share of the latter, the courts were busy and efficient. And the lawsuits! The most detailed documents from the period include the law courts and lawsuits by ordinary citizens against the other, women suing men and men suing women. A truly equal opportunity system. And speaking of women, women had many opportunities to better themselves, though it usually involved marrying well. A servant could certainly gain in rank if she married her master (and likewise male servants who married their mistresses—that is, their bosses). Women could be brewsters (brewers of beer) and run alehouses, though mostly if they were widows to men who were in these professions.

5. Chastity Belts—the idea that a knight would encase his wife in a contraption to ensure fidelity as he went off to the Crusades might be a cultural curiosity, but it was never fact. What woman would put up with that? I mean really. It is a Victorian myth to perpetuate the romantic (romantic?) notions of an age of Chivalry. Remember, this was the age of the pre-Raphaelites, whose depiction of noble, dutch-boy coifed Crusaders would meet their lady loves in sunlit groves, a veritable Rivendell of velvet gowns and pointy sleeves. Those last vestiges of chicanery were removed from the British Museum, many of which have been on display since 1846—which was probably when they were made! A spokesman of the museum explained: “It is probable that the majority of existing examples were made in the 19th century as curiosities for the prurient or jokes for the tasteless.”

6. Off with his head—Not so much. Only the French Revolution saw so much beheading. Beheading wasn’t a neat way to go nor was it saved for the general population. You had to have been a very naughty boy or girl to get this treatment, and the headsmen were so unskilled at this that there were often many chops to get it right. (Remember Nearly Headless Nick from Harry Potter?) No wonder Ann Boleyn requested a French swordsman to do the deed for her. These were certainly not public spectacles, but within palace walls and only a special or invited crowd to attend.

7. Witch Burning—Not so much there either. The occasional true heretic was burned at the stake—people like Joan of Arc. But Miss of Arc was a special case and it was more a case of English versus French rather than person versus Church. Witches—when witches there were—were generally hanged.  

8. “Dark”—as in “Dark Ages” used to refer to the proper title “Early Middle Ages”, a period from 500 to 800 A.D. “Dark” as in unenlightened. Everyone was just waiting around for the Renaissance. It must have been such a nuisance living in the “middle” ages, in between important stuff. Contemporary scholars of any repute don’t refer to these periods as “dark” and the myth of the Renaissance as the collective sigh of relief that the dark period was finally over is again, one of those Victorian conceits, like nude sculptures in unpainted marble. They were deemed more “Classic” when in fact, the Greek and Roman statuary they were emulating had been painted with all their pubescent details. The Renaissance or “rebirth” is a false designation, and indeed, one wonders where exactly that line can be drawn. The Second World War left the world ready for rock and roll and thus the age of Free Love in the sixties and Disco in the Seventies...though no one was ready for that. No, each epoch simply ushered in the next, and if Times They Were A-changin’, then they simply did.

9. Ate off pewter plates and threw bones on the floor—Okay, pewter was something still relegated to the wealthy and not in wide use until about the 15th century. Wooden plates were more often used in common households. In very wealthy homes, silver plates. Plates made of precious metals were in fact used as currency. You’d keep your plate under lock and key. If you ever had to make a hasty departure, grabbing your plates was a convenient way to carry your wealth away with you.

Another myth was that medieval people were often felled by lead poisoning from all this pewter that they didn’t use. It takes a lot to leach lead from pewter. And lead poisoning doesn’t knock you out. The symptoms of lead poisoning may include: irritability, aggressive behavior, low appetite and energy, difficulty sleeping, headaches, reduced sensations, loss of previous developmental skills (in young children), anemia, constipation, abdominal pain and cramping (usually the first sign of a high, toxic dose of lead poison). Very high levels (meaning you’d have to be eating the stuff in large quantities) may cause vomiting, staggering gait, muscle weakness, seizures, or coma.

You might have heard that some believe the term Upper Crust came from the wealthy desiring to eat only the upper crusts of the bread, and thus the term was born. Uh uh. Trencher loaves were cooked specifically for their use as plates for food. After it soaked up the juices you could eat it, but more often than not, your servants ate it or it was donated to almshouses to pass out to the poor. Why would you want to eat just the crust? If you were rich, in fact, you prided yourself on being able to afford well-milled wheat for light, fluffy loaves of bread—the Wonder Bread of the Middle Ages. The poorer folk actually ate healthier bread, made with husks and oats and other dark products (that we pay more for today in the supermarket. Ain’t that a kick in the head?). This upper crust notion comes from 1460, “Kutt e vpper crust [of the loaf] for youre souerayne”—in other words, serve him first.

And you certainly never threw your trash on the floor whether rich or poor. You lived there for God sake. Would you do it now? Dogs might have been wandering about and you might have fed them scraps as you might do now, but tossing scraps over your shoulder? Let’s be reasonable.

10. Animals congregated in the thatching to keep warm and when it rained, they’d sometimes slip and fall off the roof. Hence the saying: It's raining cats and dogs. There was nothing to stop things from falling into the house where bugs and other droppings could mess up your nice clean bed. Hence, a bed with big posts and a sheet hung over the top afforded some protection. That's how canopy beds came into existence.

What a load of twaddle. The thatchers art is remarkable. Long straw as well as Norfolk reeds are bundled together very tightly, tied to the roof framework, and sparred to each other with hazel spars (resembling giant bobby pins) before it is cut and trimmed to just the right contour for the roof. It becomes a very tight seal indeed, providing excellent insulation to keep warmth in during the winter and out during the summer. Nothing—not rain or snow—is going to get through it. Houses are still thatched in this same method today in England and other parts of Europe, and it is very expensive in modern times because the art is all but lost except for a few hard-working artisans. The idiom “raining like cats and dogs” comes in around the 17th century “raining dogs and polecats”, and later by Jonathan Swift of Gulliver’s Travels fame, who writes, "I know Sir John will go, though he was sure it would rain cats and dogs". No, canopy beds with bed curtains allow the sleeper to keep warm and allow them a bit of privacy when servants were likely to sleep in the same room with you.

Why do such a myths and all the others like it persist even to this day? I think because it seems medieval to us, what we have perceived the middle ages to be as depicted in popular films and bad history in school (as bad as the persistent myth of the noble Pilgrims coming to these shores to escape religious persecution... But that’s a whole other story.) And it was so long ago. Well beyond living memory. Five hundred years ago at the end of the period. In England in the 1500s, they were now speaking an English we could easily recognize. But before that, in the heyday of the middle ages, they were speaking Chauceran English, or Middle English. A difficult tongue for us to recognize. This puts it quite distant indeed when we can’t even understand the language.

Were they that different from us? In many ways, yes. There was an understanding of one’s place, a code of ethics we might bristle at in the U.S. Family ties were much more important than they are today. There was—for the most part--a common belief system. But there were also many similarities. Love, betrayal, friendships, deaths, disease, ambitions, desires—the array of the human condition.

How would you survive if placed in the middle ages? Maybe not too well. We would have a hard time understanding the customs and mores of the time. We live in such wasteful times. They did not. We live in a time where we care for people of all kinds, all races, all faiths, people we will never meet. They lived in a time where the “other” was a danger to them. Though in many instances, those “others” helped bring about new ideas.

What do we know and how do we know it? Well, we don’t get our history from novels, or films, or –God help us—the History Channel. What we do is read primary sources—the actual documents, archaeological discoveries, or we move on to secondary and tertiary sources like text books by the latest scholars in the field who draw their conclusions from primary sources and from the exchange of ideas with other scholars.

Then, what I get to do, is take that information, recreate that world and time, and play with my repertoire of characters to bring you interesting dramas.

Promoting Myself

As I mentioned, I was a graphic artist and putter from time to time, mostly producing collateral for myself, like bookmarks and such. Here is an ad that I designed and produced that will end up in the Murder in the Grove program. 

   

New Portrait

There it is, up on the left. A new portrait where I actually look like I'm enjoying myself. And here is another, both products of my wonderful photographer husband. This is a set, by the way. This window does not exist except as a flat.

   

Work, Work, Work

Well, I'm screwed. I didn't think at my age I'd still have to be looking for work, but there it is. I've been downsized at my day job. What's that, you say? You're going to be published. What do you need with a day job? Gather around, my children, and I'll tell you a story.

Let's go way back when I was tirelessly writing and my agent was sending out my manuscript for a book prior to Veil of Lies. I really wanted my medieval mystery series at St. Martin's. I looked at other publishers and I felt that St. Martin's would really do the series justice. I was heartbroken when they turned down the first one. But when they picked up Veil, I knew I had come home.

As a new, untried author, I just wasn't going to get a big boffo advance. That's business. I was frankly thrilled to get anything! But it wasn't enough for me to quite quit my part time secretarial job.

Now, remember, you get half this advance at the time of the contract signing, minus your agent's cut. So now it's wittled down even more. You get the second half at some other time, like when the final edits are in. The book won't be on bookshelves for another six months. Then, when it does begin to sell, you won't see any additional funds until the advance is paid off. So. It's a tough proposition while you wait. In the meantime, I have to continue to write the next volumes in the series, prepare for promotional touring (which means shelling out my own money to go to places like Bouchercon), and still pay the bills. Hence, the day job.

Wish me luck. It's not the best of times to be looking for work.         

Potter Peters Out

It's happened. "The Times Book Review's senior editor, Dwight Garner, announced Thursday...that the best-seller list for the May 11 issue of the book review does not include a single Harry Potter title."

Ten years. The Book Review, in fact, created a seperate children's best-seller list because the Potter titles kept taking up room every freakin' week. And then, they had to create another seperate list just for series children's books. I suppose it only means that every child in America already has a copy. Maybe two.

This phenomenom has been such fun. I was fortunate enough to go to midnight bookstore events for the last two, and I'm so glad I did, so glad I was a part of it all. Something like this is not likely to happen again, something with which both children and adults can find common ground. I will personally miss it off the best-seller list and hope that it doesn't stay away too long.

You can read the story here. 

Blood Relics

We can't talk about my Medieval Noir series without talking about relics. And so I borrow this article from my other blog Exploring Relics.

Blood relics are prized relics indeed. When Catholics celebrate the mass and partake of the Eucharist, they are sharing in the promises of Jesus, that “unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you.” (John 6:53) The Communion bread, the Host becomes the flesh and blood of Jesus through Transubstantiation, with the priest as middle man. But there are places that are said to have the preserved blood of Jesus—and others—in their reliquaries.

Joseph of Aramathea plays an important role in most Christ blood relics, either capturing the blood in a cup while Jesus hung on the cross (and here is where the complicated grail history begins) or later keeping some as he cleaned the body before burial.

I must first explain the unlikelihood of such an event from the Jewish Pharisee that Joseph was. Surely he was aware of the blood prohibitions, of touching blood and bodies that would make him unclean to enter the temple. This would be a horrific situation for a priest of the temple, his being unable to enter it until he underwent many weeks of ritual bathing before he was declared clean again. The thought of even saving blood must have been completely foreign. But let us, for the sake of argument, assume that Joseph—for whatever reason—had the idea to preserve some of Jesus’ blood. What did he do with it from there?

If we were to follow the grail legend, then we would end up at Glastonbury in the southwest region of England, which gave rise to its co-mingling with the Arthurian legends. But if we were to follow other legends, we might end up in Constantinople. During the fourth crusade it is said that the Holy Blood of Christ made its way from Constantinople to the Basilius chapel in Bruges on April 7, 1150. The relic consists of coagulated blood kept in a 12th century style rock-crystal flask. Since 1303, the relic was carried around the city walls in procession, called the Holy Blood Procession which is still celebrated today.

Westminster Abbey was presented with Christ’s blood by King Henry III of England on October 3, 1247, that the king had received from the Masters of the Knights Templars and Hospitallers and the patriarch of Jerusalem. It was encased in a crystal vase. The Bishop of Norwich preached a sermon, promising an indulgence of six years and one hundred and sixteen days to anyone who venerated the relic (that is, six years and one hundred and sixteen days less in Purgatory). It never made Westminster the pilgrim stop that Henry had desired. In fact, it was not lost on the populace that Henry was desperately trying to compete with the French king who a year later, dedicated his Sainte Chapelle with relics from the holy land, among them the Crown of Thorns (which we’ll talk about in another post), the Holy Lance, a portion of the sponge soaked with vinegar, purple vestments with which Jesus was mocked, and a sepulchral stone.

In Hailes Abbey, not too far from Westminster, larger crowds came to see their vial of Christ’s blood. But when Hailes’ blood was scrutinized in the 16th century by Henry VIII’s examiners, it was reported that the vial consisted of not Christ’s blood but of honey mixed with saffron coloring. Yet another account says it contained oft replaced goose blood. Whatever was in it, this vial, along with the one at Westminster, was disposed of by the Reformation’s agents.

One of the more famous blood relics belongs to Saint Januarius or as he is known in Italy, San Gennaro. Born in Naples in 300 AD, he was a Bishop of Beneveto around the time of Emperor Diocletian who was particularly nasty to Christians. While offering spiritual support to imprisoned fellow Christians, Januarius was himself arrested. The prelate, Timoteo, put Januarius through several gruesome tortures—thrown into a furnace, tried to tear his limbs apart on the wheel—but he seemed to come out of them unscathed. Finally, Januarius and his fellow prisoners were condemned to be torn apart by wild beasts. When this also proved useless, Timoteo ordered Januarius to be beheaded, the favored way of getting rid of saints-to-be.

Januarius’ old wet-nurse Eusebia, gathered his blood into vials and his body and head were wrapped and hidden until the time that Christianity was no longer persecuted. It was on this occasion that Eusebia was free to display the glass vials of the martyr’s dried blood, and for the first time, they became liquid. Januarius was one of the many honored saints in Italy for many centuries, but there is no mention of his blood or it’s “liquefaction” until 1389. By then his skull and blood had come to rest at the Real Cappella del Tesoro di San Gennaro, located near Pozzuoli. And to this day, on September 19, the feast day of Saint Januarius, his blood relics are displayed with much praying, novenas, and other celebrations. If the blood liquefies, it is signaled by the firing off of canons. Sort of like the groundhog seeing his shadow.

The Catholic Church encourages the celebration of the saint but falls short of declaring the liquefaction event a miracle, opening it up to scientific study. We won’t debate it here, but as we constantly remind readers, that the relevancy of a relic is in its ability to inspire rather than its ability to run the gauntlet of scientific scrutiny.

*The picture above is the Christ blood relic from Bruges and is part of the Procession of the Holy Blood every May.