Since I’ve been working on the map of Numenor, it occured to me how much maps shape our lives.
I remember in elementary school there was a huge map of The World on the classroom wall. Like all the maps in North America, the big bad Soviet Union was judiciously chopped in half somewhere east of the Urals and stuck on each edge of the map, with the Americas squarely in the middle. Besides that, Canada being part of the Commonwealth (Now THERE’S a term that would merit thorough examination – “common wealth”, riches for all… ), not only did I grow up in the very centre of the world, but safely ensconced in a global patchwork of benign sister nations. In PINK too! And to top it all off, given that there is basically no optimum way to flatten out the skin of a peeled orange, the maps favoured in Canuck elementary schools were Mercator projection, where the longitudes are parallel, thus making my Home and Native Land (Ad Mare Usque Ad Mare) thrice the size of our puny and otherwise pusillanimous neighbour to the south, despite the uncomfy adjunction of a bloated Alaska with that pesky panhandle.
Isn’t that great? Boy, what a world to grow up in!
I have a huge collection of books on the history of maps, and how the world evolved under the rules and compasses of the mapmakers. North has only been “up” on maps since the so-called Age of Exploration. Prior to that, Ultima Thule was more than likely to be at the bottom, with with Jerusalem in the middle. The “Tabernacle” world as depicted by Cosmas Indicopleustes was basically the 6th-century biblically correct version of Terry Pratchett’s Discworld, albeit without A’Tuin, the elephants or Rincewind… Maps drafted in the Orient traditionally had east at the top. Ptolomey was only one-third out when he calculated the circumference of the earth, just enough to let Columbus, 1500 years later, step ashore in the Caribbean the SAME day he had planned on reaching Xipangu, only to have America named after someone else because an obscure mapmaker in the Vosges made an executive decision…
Think about it next time you can’t re-fold that ****ed road map the right way…
Ever seen those wonderful images from the late 19th and early 20th centuries of the brave and virile Swiss mountain peasants vigorously (knotted brows and limbs, crossbows at the ready, all that kind of vigorous virile Swiss mountain peasant stuff) resisting varied and vicious oppressors, shooting at apples, leaping from boats, succoring widows and orphans, holding hands in alpine meadows? They really are wonderful, and the early films about William Tell have the same heroism and yearning for the halcyon days of budding nationhood that you can find in cinema epics like Alexander Nievsky or in Arthurian literature. Of course, while the dux bellorum may well have existed, the legend of William Tell was basically cobbled together after the “fact” (read the truly excellent “L’ARCHER DU ROI” published in 1991 by the Edtions Esprit Ouvert, Lausanne) but did provide some lovely popular imagery, from Hodler’s paintings to rousing operas.
Speaking of which…
So, next time somebody decides to shoot (I mean film, sorry!) William Tell, I am definitely postulating for a bit part.
On the site:
Dominique and I are continuing to slowly augment the site, fill out the portfolio and complete the foundations. (Actually, we are something like the rabbit and tortoise from Aesop’s Fables… Dom sprints ahead, leaving me with a trail of images to dispatch, and I slowly and stolidly lumber after him, measuring up originals, ferrreting out publication dates and ISBN numbers, eradicating spelling errors (wehn I cna) and patching up other inconsistencies. But, no sooner do I catch up and pause to catch my breath that he’s sprinted off again, leaving me more work.
En français dans le texte:
Admittedly, a site based in the french-speaking part of he world should be accessible in the same language, but just getting it done in English has been about all we can manage. Now, thanks to the efforts of “Goupil”, we will very soon have portions of the site in French. (Goupil, by the way, is an archaic French term for fox.) Dom and I will definitely continue to coerce, flatter, congratulate and do everything in our power to keep our friend with the vulpine alias at work until the major portion of the site is completely bilingual. Now, who was that brave soul who offered to do German?
Opening next week:
The Tolkien exhibition will (very) soon be in Charleville.
For last-minute information:
Bibliothèque Municipale
4, place de l’Agriculture
F – 08000 Charleville-Mézières
Telephone : 03 24 33 33 53
e-mail : bibliotheque@bm-charlevillemezieres.fr
Site : http://www.bm-charlevillemezieres.fr
