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This chapter, by Kath Stevenson, explains that traditions of Christian knowledge are an abiding preoccupation for William Langland in Piers Plowman, with Langland exploring fundamental questions about the pre-eminence or otherwise of abstract learning, textually mediated and transmitted (‘clergie’), over experiential knowledge (‘kynde knowynge’) and about the role of learning in Christian salvation. What good is knowledge? In an age of abstruse academic discourse, in which Langland himself was deeply versed, Langland’s protagonist Will searches urgently for the knowledge that is truly valuable, that is, the knowledge that will enable him to save his soul. Stevenson locates Langland’s ambivalence concerning the efficacy of textually mediated learning within the wider contexts of vernacular theology in the late fourteenth and fifteenth centuries and in particular shows Langland’s treatment of the Passion in the central passus of his poem to be informed by the developing traditions of affective piety. For Langland the Passion can function as a site in which textual and experiential knowledge are united, with abstract intellectual knowledge becoming transfigured as it is fused with ‘kynde knowynge’.
Like the previous chapter, Michelle Brown’s contribution represents an instance of the integration of Christian and pre-Christian Germanic knowledge in the early Middle Ages. Brown explores the context and meaning of the distinctive late-tenth-century rune-stone carved at the royal burial ground of Jellinge in Denmark, viewing the monument as a book in stone and a symbol of conversion and of changing political agendas in Scandinavia in the tenth century. Ranging widely across early medieval art, Brown explains that the stone (like the Auzon/Franks Casket, to which she also alludes) draws upon both Christian and pagan Norse traditions ‘to form a new, integrated iconography that formed a distinctive expression of the Scandinavian experience of cultural synthesis and conversion’.
This part explores the revival of serial television dramas set in the ancient world in the new millennium. Described by some scholars as the fourth wave of peplum, the revival of the genre in cinema, following the success of Gladiator (2000), was replicated by notable television productions that followed in its wake. At the same time, the emancipation of TV antiquity from its cinematic counterpart continued during this time. Apart from the unique way of telling stories in a serial format, technology now made it possible to claim even more of the spectacular elements of screen antiquity for television. Programmes such as Rome (2005–8) combined the recent tendency towards gritty realism in television with the visual splendour and spectacle of cinema. In addition, the use of choreographed ‘ultra-violence’ became more prominent, which was particularly evident in shows like STARZ Spartacus and indicated a new route for TV antiquity.
Richard North’s chapter argues that the Old English verse saint’s life Andreas (on the apostle St Andrew) appropriates the secular epic poem Beowulf for mock-epic purposes, turning knowledge of Beowulf, a poem which by implication must have been famous in Anglo-Saxon England, to a new Christian purpose. Andreas is seen to offer through its mock-epic style a satirical commentary on the heathen nostalgia of Beowulf. In Andreas knowledge of secular literature and its version of the past is astutely re-appropriated for religious purposes, being absorbed into and transcended by a Christian celebration of the true heroism of the saint. This chapter adds a new dimension to the understanding of Anglo-Saxon literary history and the place of secular tradition within it.
This part explores the developments of television throughout the 1970s and the increasing popularity of the miniseries format. As big cinematic epics went into decline, representation of the ancient world appeared in other forms and increasingly on television screens, for example in comedies such as Up Pompeii!. More significantly, ground-breaking new shows like I, Claudius, one of the case studies in this part, developed key aesthetic aspects of TV antiquity and pushed the boundaries of what was permissible with regard to screening sex and violence. This and other shows also led to increasing concerns over censorship and media regulation during this decade. Like I, Claudius, the lesser-known The Eagle of the Ninth (1977), the subject of this part’s second case study, strongly reflected contemporaneous concerns over empires, home and abroad, and ethical issue relating to conquest and occupation.
This introductory part sets out the subject by discussing issues relating to representations of antiquity on-screen, such as the difficulties in defining the genre, the alternation of TV antiquity between high and low culture, and the dominance of ancient Roman over Greek narratives. Although TV antiquity is very much indebted to its cinematic predecessors, it has from the outset developed its very own style and language and in the process added a new dimension to representations of antiquity in popular culture. Yet, for a long time, antiquity in television has remained in the shadow of its more spectacular cousin. This part will outline some of the particular characteristics of television, namely complexity, intimacy and seriality, and analyse why these offer distinct advantages when it comes to representing the ancient world on-screen. Finally, this part outlines the interdisciplinary approach of the book and addresses the cultural implications of TV antiquity.