Tobias and Sara
Wednesday, October 17, 2018
Coming soon ...
After a brilliant second issue (The Good Wife), the editorial collective of "Love, Medieval Style" will turn its attentions to issue 3: @Amor: medieval lovers do social media. Abelard's Tumblr? Beatriz de Dia's Instagram? Andreas Capellanus's Reddit? Come back in two weeks to see if these are among the goodies on offer ...
Top 7 Emoji To Show Him You Want To Enjoy A Lawful Love
Ladies, it’s about to be cuffing season, and you know what
that means: lots of cute guys about to inherit dukedoms who are completely
missing the hints you’re dropping. Honest communication is always hard, but it’s
especially difficult when you’re planning a wedding and a Christian life together. Between snuggling up with your boo
and negotiating the details of your dowry, you’ll need to take some time to
establish what it is you want out of your marriage: a relationship beset by
scandal or a lawful love? Noble marriages that are grounded in Christian values
are the most likely to succeed, but both of you need to be on the same page. To
help you better communicate with your lord-to-be, we’ve picked out the best
emoji to put in your texts to show him what you’re really thinking.
π
#bless
A big
part of your marriage will be adjusting to each other’s habits, so if you
intend to spend every night sneaking off to the church to pray or to do good
works, it’s better to let him know now rather than deal with a grumpy guy in
the morning! This emoji can help you set that mindful mood. Maybe even include
it when you send your goodnight texts!
❌ππ°❌
Your Crowning Glory
We get
it: every gal wants to look great on her wedding day. But as Pope Nicholas I
has reminded us, wedding crowns are beside the point—sure, it’s nice to have that gold or silver band on
your head at your wedding (do it for the ‘gram), but your marriage is really
all about consent. Are you and your intended heading into this lifelong pact
because you want to and not because
anyone else is forcing you? If you’re sure, send these emoji to show your guy
just what to expect when you head up the aisle.
π
π
One At A Time
If you or your bae grew up in Lotharingia, then you’ve definitely heard the cautionary tale of Lothar II. In case you’re from a bit farther afield, Lothar accidentally ended up with two wives—and when he tried to do the honorable thing and divorce one of them, he got into a big fight with the pope. Fighting the Bishop of Rome never ends well, so don’t be like Lothar! Deploy these emoji to remind your betrothed that he can’t run around with other women anymore—this marriage is between the two of you and no one else.πΆπΌ
Outstanding Offspring
Remember that having children legitimates any sex you’re having (within your marriage, ofc!)—and that it’s your responsibility to raise the kiddos to be obedient Christians. It’s okay if you and your fiancΓ© aren’t ready to have your own little ones just yet – although you’re def going to need an heir sooner or later – but these emoji will certainly make your expectations clear. Use them to start a conversation about names and family members you want to honor! We hear that “Henry” is going to be a top hit for boys in 978.
π«ππ«
Forget Worldly Glory
It can
certainly be very exciting for both of you to fantasize about the temporal
power that you’ll gain upon the death of the in-laws—but remember that your
obedience to Christ will mean so much more in the long run. To get you both
thinking along the same lines, these emoji will remind you to prepare more for
your spiritual #goals than land acquisition. If you’re marrying a second son
and don’t see any land grabs in your future, use these to start a conversation
about what other worldly trappings you can give up as a couple. Maybe you don’t
actually need to put that second stand mixer on your wedding registry?
⛪
Do Trust the B in Diocese 23
It’s
important for you to remember that you don’t have to do this whole marriage
thing on your own. If you’re having trouble compelling your man to be a good
Christian, or you just have questions about what kind of sexy stuff is allowed
and what’s not, remember that you can always mosey on over to the local bishop to
get his judgement. With this emoji you can let your guy know that you won’t be
breaking any church rules, even for him.
π¦⚠️
Proceed with Caution
Use this
emoji pairing to tell your fiancΓ© that however excited you both might be about
finally getting to sleep together, there’s a good chance that most of the time
you won’t be able to do it with abandon. Some general guidelines: keep those
fluids inside as much as possible! Procreative coupling only! Don’t have sex on
the Lord’s Day! If you make it a priority to respect the bodies of our Lord and your lord, then you’ll be well on
your way to enjoying a lawful love.
The Good Wife: Mathilda's Rebuttal
There is no pain greater than that of watching history remember you as another. It is a pain unknown to those who stride across the mortal earth, unknown by those whose waking hours are interrupted by moments of blissful sleep. The immortal Soul, tethered no longer to flesh but to thought, can still be misshapen by the lies and half-truths of history.
I speak now of the so-called “Older Life.” Imagine my surprise when I discovered that this, which purports to be an accurate description of my life, is in fact a description of someone else’s. The narrative woven by the “Older Life” describes the life of Radegund, who ran from her marriage to become an ascetic. All the descriptions of ‘my’ avowed holiness: swearing my husband to celibacy even in marriage, leaving the bedchamber to pray at night, and so forth — these were all things she did, not me.
As it was not my life, I’ll speak no more of the “Older Life.” The narrative which lies closer to my truth, and might still be salvaged, is the “Later Life.” Purporting to be an honest account of my existence, some learned fool sacrificed my honor and dignity on the altar of praise to a king who devoted no thought at all to my happiness. The author tells breathlessly of the count who would penetrate a cloister to gaze upon a young girl in her sleep, to report to his masters my “noble and praiseworthy beauty.” It makes my soul uneasy even now to think of such a perversion of my childhood home. The fool goes on to describe how Henry, burning with love for me after repeated descriptions from his men, convinced the abbess that it was God’s will that we wed. Perhaps he was seeking to curry favor; perhaps his audience was not ready for the truth; or perhaps he was simply looking to save his own skin.
It has long been written, but not followed, that the central tenet of marriage is the consent of both bride and groom. Our union, rendered unholy by this breach of the Holy covenant, was my greatest shame. Every night, after the King had fallen asleep, I would creep out of the royal bedchambers not to express my deepest devotion to God, as the fool writes, but to search for a reason for this torment. Why, I asked the Lord, did he forsake me? How could I have been so beyond His love that I would be thrown into this Hell?
The only pinpricks of light in my life were my beautiful children. I should have known better. When their father died, I cried with relief from my torment, but quickly my tears became waterfalls of anxiety, as I knew not what the future would bring. I did all that a good wife should: I mourned him, I consoled our children, I devoted myself to prayer. In my performance, I failed to realize that dark factors were poisoning my son against me. Men spoke in his ears, telling lies that curdled into conflict within our family.
The fool is right about one thing: I did still love my children, even though they hurt me so. But what he says next — that I could somehow forgive all that had been done to me — I only wish could be true. I never forgot the indignity, the suffering my own flesh and blood caused to me in the years following their father’s death. It was an all-too familiar feeling.
I dedicated the rest of my life to earning my way back into the Lord’s favor. I gave to the poor, cast off all worldly trappings. I did all that I could to excise the Devil from my life. I built my monastery; I spoke with the Pope, of all people; I traveled my kingdom doing whatever good I could. This, at least, the fool has correctly relayed.
I was not the perfect Queen that the “Later Life” describes. I was just a woman, like any other, who had the unfortunate luck of being targeted by a prince who would be King. I tried to be the best wife I could be for a man who chose me from a nunnery like an apple at the market. Now my story, rotten and warped by time, is all that remains of me. Even I know not what parts of my soul have remained whole, and which have been ruined and changed beyond all recognition. I can only hope that this envoy from beyond, this letter I write to the void, will be enough to save what is left of me. It will have to be enough.
The Stepford Wives of Old
The following text is a series of monologues delivered by Bertrand and Gotberga, a medieval married couple. From their distinct perspectives, we learn of the progression of their marriage and their travels to the eerie land of Stepford, where Gotberga undergoes a mysterious transformation.
GOTBERGA: In Burgundy, I knew a venerable woman who was compelled to marry an evil and revolting man, but steadfastly refused. To protect herself from him and other ghastly suitors, she persuaded her father of her great zeal for Christ. He allowed her to renounce the world and remain continent, a true bride of Christ. And though this woman longed for marital union and pleasures of the flesh, and further felt no genuine stirring to monastic life, she fled the world to elude the unjust machinations of men. Puffed up men, convinced of their own perfect piety, might have deemed her a hypocrite, feigning devotion to God, but I and other women admired her fight to govern the body that God gave her and no one else.
BERTRAND: I do not think I would have married Gotberga had I been aware of her doubt and hatred for God’s natural laws. But I carried on treating her with the utmost tenderness, as we were lawfully bound by the sacrament of marriage, and I sought to be one with her in Christ. In our homeland, she was always content and loving to me. But Gotberga had a strange affection for unruly women. I had felt uneasy for some time with her heedless spirit and associations with sinful wenches—known fornicators—and disobedient wives in our village.
GOTBERGA: Just as men commit unlawful acts, lying with whores to satiate the flesh, women are bound to such desires and acts as well. And in our village in Burgundy, while it was not the Godliest state of affairs, at least our community led joyous lives. The weaker sex was not totally subdued. I was a shoemaker, able to provide myself here and there with comforts at my own discretion. I was able to save enough to commission a tutor to aid me in reading the remarkable writings of ancient men. My life was cheerful in Burgundy.
BERTRAND: I first heard of Stepford, a land to the West, from my dear brother who crossed the English Channel to live among the Anglo-Saxons some time ago. He wrote to me of the women there and their great deference to their husbands and to God. Stepford, he wrote, was like nowhere else in Christendom in the sublime perfection of its women.
GOTBERGA: One night after supper, Bertrand informed me that we were to make an arduous journey westward to reunite with his brother, whom he so longed to see. He had made arrangements to sell our lodgings and we were to leave at once the next day. I wept for some time, regretful to leave my beloved home and encounter barbarians and dangers on the perilous voyage. However, I understood Bertrand’s desire to see his kin and came to believe the move would be exciting for the both of us.
BERTRAND: After a long journey, we reached Stepford yesterday. Upon arrival, we were greeted by my brother and his wife, Sibyl. Sibyl’s demeanor was as sweet as can be. My brother tells me that she reads and recites the scriptures constantly, save for when she must perform her conjugal duties with him in the evenings.
GOTBERGA: It has now been seven days since our arrival in Stepford and I must admit I feel quite perturbed by the people we have met here. There are no women in Stepford with any form of occupation and I was told that I could not make shoes here under any circumstances. No unmarried women here indulge in the pleasures of the flesh or even think of them. No women here converse on any matter, save the excellence of their husbands.
BERTRAND:
I have met with my brother and the other men of Stepford to arrange the plans for Gotberga’s pending transformation. Once we have gathered all of the materials, she will soon be a perfect Christian wife, like the others.
GOTBERGA:
The other day, I met one called Mary who demonstrates unmatched virtue and devotion to God. However, when I asked Mary why and how she came to achieve such piety, she told me that it is a wife’s foremost duty to invigorate her husband in the service of God, like Clovis’ wife did him. Mary’s convictions have little to do with her own heart and everything to do with the wellbeing of her husband. I spoke to Bertrand thus of my concerns, after supper.
BERTRAND: I asked Gotberga: Is it not out of honor and sweetness that the woman Mary dutifully attends to her husband’s wishes, as God would have it? Is her excellent devotion not a testament to God’s favor for the docility of wives?
GOTBERGA:
Bertrand and I had a remarkable quarrel that evening. I have never seen his face so red, flushed with anger. He claims I am ungrateful for taking him to this “lovely” place and unwilling to follow the noble example of the local women. I do not think I shall forget his fury for the remainder of my days. I imagine I will dream of him tonight, embodied as the Adversary ready for battle.
BERTRAND:
The men of the village have informed me that the time is now. When she awakes, Gotberga will demonstrate a piety of which she could never have dreamed. Unchecked obedience is imminent.
GOTBERGA: It has been several weeks since our arrival in Stepford and I feel that I have made a great change of heart in the right direction. I have forgotten the terrible folly of my ways in Burgundy and now realize the importance of Bertrand’s will above all else. No longer will I engage in vile talk of sexual sin nor empathize with unruly women who refuse the marriage arrangements set before them. I have been illuminated in the importance of conjugal chastity and wifely honor. I will be forever thankful to Bertrand for taking me here, where I have discovered the errors of my past outlook and adopted the proper station of a wife, as God would intend.
GOTBERGA: In Burgundy, I knew a venerable woman who was compelled to marry an evil and revolting man, but steadfastly refused. To protect herself from him and other ghastly suitors, she persuaded her father of her great zeal for Christ. He allowed her to renounce the world and remain continent, a true bride of Christ. And though this woman longed for marital union and pleasures of the flesh, and further felt no genuine stirring to monastic life, she fled the world to elude the unjust machinations of men. Puffed up men, convinced of their own perfect piety, might have deemed her a hypocrite, feigning devotion to God, but I and other women admired her fight to govern the body that God gave her and no one else.
BERTRAND: I do not think I would have married Gotberga had I been aware of her doubt and hatred for God’s natural laws. But I carried on treating her with the utmost tenderness, as we were lawfully bound by the sacrament of marriage, and I sought to be one with her in Christ. In our homeland, she was always content and loving to me. But Gotberga had a strange affection for unruly women. I had felt uneasy for some time with her heedless spirit and associations with sinful wenches—known fornicators—and disobedient wives in our village.
GOTBERGA: Just as men commit unlawful acts, lying with whores to satiate the flesh, women are bound to such desires and acts as well. And in our village in Burgundy, while it was not the Godliest state of affairs, at least our community led joyous lives. The weaker sex was not totally subdued. I was a shoemaker, able to provide myself here and there with comforts at my own discretion. I was able to save enough to commission a tutor to aid me in reading the remarkable writings of ancient men. My life was cheerful in Burgundy.
BERTRAND: I first heard of Stepford, a land to the West, from my dear brother who crossed the English Channel to live among the Anglo-Saxons some time ago. He wrote to me of the women there and their great deference to their husbands and to God. Stepford, he wrote, was like nowhere else in Christendom in the sublime perfection of its women.
GOTBERGA: One night after supper, Bertrand informed me that we were to make an arduous journey westward to reunite with his brother, whom he so longed to see. He had made arrangements to sell our lodgings and we were to leave at once the next day. I wept for some time, regretful to leave my beloved home and encounter barbarians and dangers on the perilous voyage. However, I understood Bertrand’s desire to see his kin and came to believe the move would be exciting for the both of us.
BERTRAND: After a long journey, we reached Stepford yesterday. Upon arrival, we were greeted by my brother and his wife, Sibyl. Sibyl’s demeanor was as sweet as can be. My brother tells me that she reads and recites the scriptures constantly, save for when she must perform her conjugal duties with him in the evenings.
GOTBERGA: It has now been seven days since our arrival in Stepford and I must admit I feel quite perturbed by the people we have met here. There are no women in Stepford with any form of occupation and I was told that I could not make shoes here under any circumstances. No unmarried women here indulge in the pleasures of the flesh or even think of them. No women here converse on any matter, save the excellence of their husbands.
BERTRAND:
I have met with my brother and the other men of Stepford to arrange the plans for Gotberga’s pending transformation. Once we have gathered all of the materials, she will soon be a perfect Christian wife, like the others.
GOTBERGA:
The other day, I met one called Mary who demonstrates unmatched virtue and devotion to God. However, when I asked Mary why and how she came to achieve such piety, she told me that it is a wife’s foremost duty to invigorate her husband in the service of God, like Clovis’ wife did him. Mary’s convictions have little to do with her own heart and everything to do with the wellbeing of her husband. I spoke to Bertrand thus of my concerns, after supper.
BERTRAND: I asked Gotberga: Is it not out of honor and sweetness that the woman Mary dutifully attends to her husband’s wishes, as God would have it? Is her excellent devotion not a testament to God’s favor for the docility of wives?
GOTBERGA:
Bertrand and I had a remarkable quarrel that evening. I have never seen his face so red, flushed with anger. He claims I am ungrateful for taking him to this “lovely” place and unwilling to follow the noble example of the local women. I do not think I shall forget his fury for the remainder of my days. I imagine I will dream of him tonight, embodied as the Adversary ready for battle.
BERTRAND:
The men of the village have informed me that the time is now. When she awakes, Gotberga will demonstrate a piety of which she could never have dreamed. Unchecked obedience is imminent.
GOTBERGA: It has been several weeks since our arrival in Stepford and I feel that I have made a great change of heart in the right direction. I have forgotten the terrible folly of my ways in Burgundy and now realize the importance of Bertrand’s will above all else. No longer will I engage in vile talk of sexual sin nor empathize with unruly women who refuse the marriage arrangements set before them. I have been illuminated in the importance of conjugal chastity and wifely honor. I will be forever thankful to Bertrand for taking me here, where I have discovered the errors of my past outlook and adopted the proper station of a wife, as God would intend.
I Still Get Jealous: Theutberga's Commentary on Lothar's Remarriage
I am sitting at the most elaborate of wedding ceremonies and can’t help but be distracted by the hideous face of a woman by the name of Waldrada. Waldrada? What kind of an ugly name is that? Sounds like a form of rotten pottage. It suits her face, that’s for sure. Here I am, stuck in the back row next to Hubert, but his constant comfort is the last thing I need. It is really beginning to piss me off. I get that we had sex, but that does not give you the right to lay a finger on me or ask me if I am feeling okay. That is the role of a husband, not a brother. He already did enough by bullying Lothar into marrying me. I don’t need his services any more.
My husband is sitting so far away from me, about to be married off to some rich bitch from Sachsen, and I can’t help but feel the utmost jealousy. Can we please just excommunicate her already? I would really appreciate it. Does Lothar not see how much of a better wife I am than Waldrada? He really downgraded from a 10 to a 6, at best. Why did she feel the need to re-enter his life and ruin everything? I get that they had an affair before, but that doesn’t mean Lothar can just decide he is still in love with Waldrada and all of a sudden marry her. Stop trying to hold onto the past, thanks.
Now the ceremony is starting, and I am still trying to find where I went wrong. I just can’t seem to identify any given time in which I was a poor wife to Lothar. I know I am sterile, but legitimizing a son shouldn’t be the only reason to commit to someone — Hugh can’t even assume royalty, especially not with that name. I know I committed incest, but that is in the PAST. I publicly confessed to my sins, and I regret my foolish actions. Part of being a good wife is admitting to mistakes and being upfront and honest. That is exactly what I did.
I did everything for Lothar and didn’t ask for much in return. I washed his dirty body, made love to him on the gloomiest days, and even though I may not have built monasteries and fed the poor, I cared for him, and I will do so even after he dies. I am literally the perfect wife, and yet, I am met with such disrespect and lack of consideration for my emotions. I feel like a woman who has just learned her husband was writing letters to another girl. I feel humiliated.
I can’t bear to keep watching the progression of this awful wedding ceremony. My family forced me to attend out of “respect” for the Lotharingia family, but I am honestly only here for the hor dourves at this point. I will never turn down some warm manchet bread, just like I would never turn down Lothar. You know why? Because I am a GOOD WIFE!! How can he not see this? Is he blind? I am literally waving a sign in front of his face that says I am a good wife, and yet, he leaves me for another woman. It is paining me to witness him profess his vows to Waldrada — a moment the two of us once shared. I remember that moment vividly. I believed every word he said, and wanted nothing more than to place that ring on my finger and seal our fate forever. But alas, forever is only a temporary concept, and here I am observing his marriage ceremony to a woman who has a higher aristocratic standing than I.
Marriage shouldn’t be about picking out the best of the best, it should be about compatibility. Our compatibility score was off the charts, and that was what made our marriage special. Our love was fragile, like twig on a hawthorn tree. But the twig has now frosted over, and will remain frozen forever. The rays will never again appear to melt the ice.
I wanted to be with him because he made me happy. Even though our marriage was arranged, I grew to love the man who lived beneath the wealth and status that was on the surface. I thought I was what he needed, not because he could wear me on his arm like a concubine, but because I was in his thoughts as he went to bed at night, and he would wake up eager to lay his eyes on me. I added to his life, but now he has subtracted everything we ever had. It was all for nothing. But I know I will hold onto it forever. Maybe I will find a new man who will see the value in my companionship and think of me as a good wife. Maybe I will find a new spouse with whom I can have a forever.
My husband is sitting so far away from me, about to be married off to some rich bitch from Sachsen, and I can’t help but feel the utmost jealousy. Can we please just excommunicate her already? I would really appreciate it. Does Lothar not see how much of a better wife I am than Waldrada? He really downgraded from a 10 to a 6, at best. Why did she feel the need to re-enter his life and ruin everything? I get that they had an affair before, but that doesn’t mean Lothar can just decide he is still in love with Waldrada and all of a sudden marry her. Stop trying to hold onto the past, thanks.
Now the ceremony is starting, and I am still trying to find where I went wrong. I just can’t seem to identify any given time in which I was a poor wife to Lothar. I know I am sterile, but legitimizing a son shouldn’t be the only reason to commit to someone — Hugh can’t even assume royalty, especially not with that name. I know I committed incest, but that is in the PAST. I publicly confessed to my sins, and I regret my foolish actions. Part of being a good wife is admitting to mistakes and being upfront and honest. That is exactly what I did.
I did everything for Lothar and didn’t ask for much in return. I washed his dirty body, made love to him on the gloomiest days, and even though I may not have built monasteries and fed the poor, I cared for him, and I will do so even after he dies. I am literally the perfect wife, and yet, I am met with such disrespect and lack of consideration for my emotions. I feel like a woman who has just learned her husband was writing letters to another girl. I feel humiliated.
I can’t bear to keep watching the progression of this awful wedding ceremony. My family forced me to attend out of “respect” for the Lotharingia family, but I am honestly only here for the hor dourves at this point. I will never turn down some warm manchet bread, just like I would never turn down Lothar. You know why? Because I am a GOOD WIFE!! How can he not see this? Is he blind? I am literally waving a sign in front of his face that says I am a good wife, and yet, he leaves me for another woman. It is paining me to witness him profess his vows to Waldrada — a moment the two of us once shared. I remember that moment vividly. I believed every word he said, and wanted nothing more than to place that ring on my finger and seal our fate forever. But alas, forever is only a temporary concept, and here I am observing his marriage ceremony to a woman who has a higher aristocratic standing than I.
Marriage shouldn’t be about picking out the best of the best, it should be about compatibility. Our compatibility score was off the charts, and that was what made our marriage special. Our love was fragile, like twig on a hawthorn tree. But the twig has now frosted over, and will remain frozen forever. The rays will never again appear to melt the ice.
I wanted to be with him because he made me happy. Even though our marriage was arranged, I grew to love the man who lived beneath the wealth and status that was on the surface. I thought I was what he needed, not because he could wear me on his arm like a concubine, but because I was in his thoughts as he went to bed at night, and he would wake up eager to lay his eyes on me. I added to his life, but now he has subtracted everything we ever had. It was all for nothing. But I know I will hold onto it forever. Maybe I will find a new man who will see the value in my companionship and think of me as a good wife. Maybe I will find a new spouse with whom I can have a forever.
Monday, October 15, 2018
The Secret Side of the Saint’s Story
Here begins the text of her life
Pssh. Yeah, right. Turn a few more pages and eventually it’ll start to be about me in, what, the eighth paragraph? Yup, looks like it. Ok, I know it’s pretty flattering to have a whole text dedicated to my life and saintliness, but it is just a little weird I don’t make a true appearance in “The Older Life” until page four. Whatever. I’m only taking this trip down memory lane because I thought I could get a kick out of how this whole thing is laid out and consider my thoughts on it.
First off, there seems to be a bit of concern around exactly how Henry and I met, and, quite frankly, I appreciate that that whole situation triggers a few red flags. I mean, this boy hears that I’m “well-trained in literary studies” and of noble ancestry and can’t control himself? Then, he sends his friend to spy on me to see if I’m actually hot, then even comes to double check himself later on; which, 1. that’s just plain creepy, and 2. I am. But hold your horses - the dressing up in disguise and spying on a teenage girl isn’t even the weirdest part. This text just skims over the idea that the next morning we all hopped on the road together, unbeknownst to ANY of my family members, and rode to a wedding where Henry might as well have shaken my hand and introduced himself to me for the first time across the altar. To clear the air here, no, I didn’t exactly want to go with this random dude, but what was I supposed to do? Look at the important man with his big friends swinging swords and tell them I wasn’t feeling it?
Although a wedding wasn’t my ideal first date, my ultimately loving and close bond with Henry did allow me to become the person I am remembered as today and for that, as well as my close relationship with him, I am genuinely thankful. I also understand that this text of my life is meant to honor me, and that I’m lucky, especially as a woman, to receive this respect, however the fairy-tale form in which it is told is a liiiittle much. What’s the point of being a saint when it doesn’t even seem real? I mean, look at The Later Life’s freakin introduction: “Here begins the praiseworthy Life of the Glorious Queen Mathilda.” Can’t my actions speak for themselves? Both “lives” also introduce me at the beginning in reference to my outward appearance. I know that we often use this to reflect a beautiful inside, but is that even necessary?
I do believe that my humility should be shared and honored, as people can learn how valuable these aspects in oneself are, but can we be realistic? The texts go from how good I look to talking about people who aren’t even me - whether it be my husband or my beloved son. I love you guys, but what the hell? I practiced complete and utter devotion as well as compassion. I left my husband’s side at night by choice to pray to the Lord, and not just because he snored like a pig. I poured my heart into building monasteries and providing land for churches. I did anything for the people, MY people… God’s people. And when I got crap for it? For “weakening the kingdom” I was sent away by my own son and you better believe I was pissed. But one must always remember humility and faith, and I knew I was doing the right thing so I stuck by it and soon people came to realize they were all wrong. And when it was time for my husband, my partner, to depart from my side on this Earth, I remained his wife, HIS partner, through my mourning and praying for him - that is what was right. To fully devote one’s life to others even after life, to devote oneself to faith.
THIS is what those texts should have be more about. I would love to be remembered more so because of what I did and the characteristics I embodied and lived by. There’s no need for all this flamboyant B.S. added on to my story. Tell it like it is, because it’s pretty damn good.
Pssh. Yeah, right. Turn a few more pages and eventually it’ll start to be about me in, what, the eighth paragraph? Yup, looks like it. Ok, I know it’s pretty flattering to have a whole text dedicated to my life and saintliness, but it is just a little weird I don’t make a true appearance in “The Older Life” until page four. Whatever. I’m only taking this trip down memory lane because I thought I could get a kick out of how this whole thing is laid out and consider my thoughts on it.
First off, there seems to be a bit of concern around exactly how Henry and I met, and, quite frankly, I appreciate that that whole situation triggers a few red flags. I mean, this boy hears that I’m “well-trained in literary studies” and of noble ancestry and can’t control himself? Then, he sends his friend to spy on me to see if I’m actually hot, then even comes to double check himself later on; which, 1. that’s just plain creepy, and 2. I am. But hold your horses - the dressing up in disguise and spying on a teenage girl isn’t even the weirdest part. This text just skims over the idea that the next morning we all hopped on the road together, unbeknownst to ANY of my family members, and rode to a wedding where Henry might as well have shaken my hand and introduced himself to me for the first time across the altar. To clear the air here, no, I didn’t exactly want to go with this random dude, but what was I supposed to do? Look at the important man with his big friends swinging swords and tell them I wasn’t feeling it?
Although a wedding wasn’t my ideal first date, my ultimately loving and close bond with Henry did allow me to become the person I am remembered as today and for that, as well as my close relationship with him, I am genuinely thankful. I also understand that this text of my life is meant to honor me, and that I’m lucky, especially as a woman, to receive this respect, however the fairy-tale form in which it is told is a liiiittle much. What’s the point of being a saint when it doesn’t even seem real? I mean, look at The Later Life’s freakin introduction: “Here begins the praiseworthy Life of the Glorious Queen Mathilda.” Can’t my actions speak for themselves? Both “lives” also introduce me at the beginning in reference to my outward appearance. I know that we often use this to reflect a beautiful inside, but is that even necessary?
I do believe that my humility should be shared and honored, as people can learn how valuable these aspects in oneself are, but can we be realistic? The texts go from how good I look to talking about people who aren’t even me - whether it be my husband or my beloved son. I love you guys, but what the hell? I practiced complete and utter devotion as well as compassion. I left my husband’s side at night by choice to pray to the Lord, and not just because he snored like a pig. I poured my heart into building monasteries and providing land for churches. I did anything for the people, MY people… God’s people. And when I got crap for it? For “weakening the kingdom” I was sent away by my own son and you better believe I was pissed. But one must always remember humility and faith, and I knew I was doing the right thing so I stuck by it and soon people came to realize they were all wrong. And when it was time for my husband, my partner, to depart from my side on this Earth, I remained his wife, HIS partner, through my mourning and praying for him - that is what was right. To fully devote one’s life to others even after life, to devote oneself to faith.
THIS is what those texts should have be more about. I would love to be remembered more so because of what I did and the characteristics I embodied and lived by. There’s no need for all this flamboyant B.S. added on to my story. Tell it like it is, because it’s pretty damn good.
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