Word of the Month - Pangram

        Here’s a piece I finished at the beginning of the month, representing the most famous pangram in the English language: The quick brown fox jumps over a lazy dog.  This is a small piece, and really just a mild amusement.  However, in the planning of it I got sucked down the rabbit hole of which dog breeds are the laziest, and also the rabbit hole of pangrams in other languages.  A pangram is a sentence that uses all the letters of the alphabet, with as few repetitions as possible.  A perfect pangram would have no repetitions at all, which really isn’t possible in English (unless you cheat with abbreviations or other non-words), but languages that write with syllabaries have it much easier in this regard.  They have more elements to work with, and don’t have to worry about the constant need for additional vowels.  I learned that Japanese has some amazing pangrams, including a famous poem that has been used as the equivalent of alphabetical order!

        Back in English, the quick brown fox is first mentioned in The Boston Journal in 1885, but the context (“A favorite copy set by writing teachers for their pupils”) implies that the sentence was already well known, at least in typing-teacher circles.  In addition to typing and shorthand practice, the jump of the brown fox and lazy dog were the first message sent to test the Moscow-Washington hotline between the USA and USSR governments in 1963, they show up in cryptography tests, and they are widely used to display fonts.  Although the fox and dog are the most famous pangram, they are, at 33 letters, not the shortest.  In my opinion, the best one with only 28 letters (the shortest English has without cheating) is Waltz, bad nymph, for quick jigs vex.  I am also particularly pleased by the 29-letter Sphinx of black quartz, judge my vow.

        If you like this sort of thing, I highly recommend the book Ella Minnow Pea by Mark Dunn, which is a very cleverly written fable about authoritarianism, in which letters of the alphabet are successively banned, and the characters have to speak and write in ever more convoluted ways to avoid the forbidden letters.  It centers on the supposed divinity of the fictional inventor of the famous pangram, although they use the version The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog, which has 35 letters.  While a pangram uses all the letters of the alphabet, writing in which one or more letters is purposely omitted, as in Dunn’s novel, is called a lipogram.

        As for my illustration of the momentous leap forever immortalized in the English language, it simply struck me as a fun little block to carve and print.  It’s been hard to feel very ambitious in this ninth month of everything-cancelled, but I am very grateful to be able to make the occasional small piece that cheers me up.

[Picture: Pangram, rubber block print by AEGN, 2020.]

Guess that Medieval Beast 3

         It’s time for another round of everyone’s favorite game!  This one is a little different because unlike most of our creatures, the craziness of today’s beast is not the standard medieval portrayal.  It appears to be the rather random personal interpretation of the illustrator of a copy of Der naturen bloeme from the first quarter of the fourteenth century.  I cannot read the medieval Dutch text to see whether there’s any clue as to why this illuminator thought the beast should look like this, and I certainly can’t think of any reason in the usual descriptions of the creature.  So, being forewarned that it’s random, make your guess!

        Lynx!

        Some bestiaries portray the lynx as a fairly generic beast, more canine-looking than feline.  However, when the lynx is portrayed with a distinctive iconography, it looks like it’s peeing on a ball.  This is because the urine of the lynx hardens into a precious stone, and that’s what we’re actually seeing in the illustrations.  The lynx covers its urine in sand (which certainly sounds like a cat) to keep people from finding the flame-colored stone.  The other possible reason for covering the urine is to make it harden into stone more quickly.  Neither explanation really gives a reason for why the the lynx should care, since no one mentions that 

it actually has any use for the stone itself.  The stone seems to have the general properties of amber.  The other important fact about lynxes is that their eyesight is so sharp they can see through walls.

        I’ve included a couple of peeing lynxes.  The first is not at all subtle.  The second is a little more discreetly difficult to see, but at least the small stone is accurately flame-colored.

[Pictures: Lynx, illumination from Der naturen bloeme, c 1300-1325 (Image from the British Library);

Lynx, illumination from the Bestiary of Joachim of Fiore, end of 13th century (Image from Digital Bodleian);

Lynxes, illumination from the “Rochester” bestiary, c 1230-1240 (Image from the British Library).]

Guess that Medieval Beast 2

         Now you know how to play the game, so here’s another illustration for you to identify.  This one comes from a manuscript of Der Naturen Bloeme dating to about 1450-1500, a relatively late copy of a work, an encyclopedia of natural history, that was written about 200 years earlier, based on another work even older than that.  Such is the way of medieval books.  What I like best about this creature is how very happy it is.  It looks just a little mischievous, but in the most good-natured possible way.  What creature is this cheerful fish-thing meant to be?  Make your guess, and then…

        Sea turtle!  When you think about it, it really makes perfect sense: something that swims in the ocean like a fish, but has four legs, and is covered with hard shields around its body.  Voila!

        I have included two more sea turtles for you.   The second turtle clearly follows the same model, although where the first was smiling, this is grimacing ferociously with all its un-turtle-like teeth.  The third is quite a different look, evoking the aspidochelone with what appears to be shrubbery growing on its shell, although perhaps it’s just roughly textured.  The feet are distinctly not flippers, and the face suggests that the artist was imagining this armored beast as being something like a hedgehog.  

All three of these turtles are from different copies of the same book, which is because the true bestiaries tend to be not much interested in sea creatures, with few descriptions and even fewer illustrations.  We have to look to the encyclopedias of natural history to find sea turtles, whether grouchy or happy.

[Pictures: Sea turtle, illumination from Der Naturen Bloeme (The Flower of Nature) by Jacob van Maerlant, c 1450-1500 (Image from Koninklijke Bibliotheek);

Sea turtle, illumination from Der naturen bloeme, c 1350 (Image from Koninklijke Bibliotheek);

Sea turtle, illumination from Der naturen bloeme, c 1300-1325 (Image from the British Library).]

Guess that Medieval Beast 1

         I have a new game for you to play, which will be fun for all.  It’s true that it doesn’t feature block prints, and its connection to fantasy is only the sort of inadvertent fantasy spawned by the wild imaginations of ignorant medieval illuminators.  Nevertheless, it amuses me, and I thought it might amuse you.  So without further ado, let’s get started.  Round 1!

        Here is an illustration from a manuscript that was completed in 1471 and resides in the collection of the Bibliotheque nationale de France.  The book relates characters from the gospels to the saints and the Old Testament, but along with this content there are bonus illustrations providing a bestiary cycle along the bottoms of the pages.  I have censored the places in the image where the illustration is labelled, just in case you are someone who would look for a clue in the medieval Latin.  So, what are these charming, furry, blue critters?

        Crocodiles!

        It should not really be surprising that your average European illustrator had never seen a crocodile, so they did the best they could based on the descriptions they’d heard.  Some of the more fantastical attributes of crocodiles in bestiaries can be seen in these additional crocodile illustrations: sporting wings and anywhere from 2 to 6 legs, having a serpent (the hydrus) slide into their mouths and then eat its way out through their bellies, and having their heads on upside-down.  That last is because of the description that a crocodile’s lower jaw stays still while its upper jaw opens - not true, but also not an unreasonable interpretation given the way it looks when a crocodile opens its mouth wide.  Bestiaries are also the source of the myth that crocodiles weep hypocritical tears after eating a person.

        All these  variations make crocodiles one of the more diversely portrayed beasts in bestiaries.  Some of them are certainly pretty unrecognizeable, which is their charm, but I’ve also included a couple of crocodiles that are really not bad.  Perhaps these illuminators had actually been to Egypt and seen crocodiles, or perhaps they’d just seen other illustrations from those who had.  In any case, while we’re playing the game of Guess that Medieval Beast because it’s funny to see how far off the mark these pictures could get, it’s also good to remember that there was more knowledge around in the middle ages than we sometimes give them credit for.

        Be sure to come visit again for future rounds of Guess that Medieval Beast!

[Pictures: Crocodiles, illumination from Explication des évangiles du temps et des saints, 1471 (Image from Bibliotheque nationale de France);

Crocodile, illumination from English bestiary, c 1201-1225 (Image from Bodleian Libraries);

Crocodile, illumination from Peterborough Bestiary, c 1300-1310 (Image from Cambridge and Stanford Libraries);

Crocodile, illumination from French bestiary, c 1250-1260 (Image from Bibliotheque Nationale de France);

Crocodile, illumination from French bestiary, 13th century (Image from Bibliotheque Nationale de France);

Crocodile, illumination from Bestiarius Philippi Taeoniensis, 14th century, (Image from Kongelige Bibliotek);

Crocodile, illumination from English Bestiary, c 1225-1275 (Image from British Library);

Crocodile, illumination from Italian Bestiaire d’Amour, c 1290 (Image from Morgan Library);

Crocodile from Rochester Bestiary, c 1230-1240 (Image from British Library).]

Here's Something Cool: Sneinton Dragon

         This magnificent dragon sculpture glowers over Sneinton, a suburb of Nottingham, England.  It is stainless steel, and was created in 2006 by craftsman Robert Stubley (he hesitates to call himself an artist, having been a welder by trade).  Stubley had made a few other dragon sculptures previously, apparently just for fun, but was never trained as an artist.  He’s obviously a natural.  He says, “I thought, ‘I’ll have a go at making a dragon in my spare time.’  So I made one and I just got carried away with it then, thinking, ‘How can I use this medium, stainless steel, and how can I form it, and how can I get the results that I want?’”

        Residents of Sneinton were polled as to what sort of public art they’d like, and they chose a dragon.  This may refer to the history of Sneinton, because in 1914 social historian Robert Mellors wrote, “For more than half a century there has existed in certain parts of Nottingham a monster who has devoured in the first year of their lives a large number of infants… His name is SLUM.”  On the other hand, perhaps people requested a dragon sculpture simply because dragons are cool!

        I have not been to Sneinton to see this dragon myself, but it looks most excellent.  Its wingspan is 15 or 16 feet, and it has a lovely variety of texture, from rough scales to gleaming wings.  I wish my town would put up a cool dragon sculpture like this!

[Pictures: Sneinton Dragon, stainless steel sculpture by Robert Stubley, 2006 (Photographs by KevS from Wikimedia Commons and Tracey Whitefoot from Atlas Obscura).]

Honzo Zufu

         Honzo Zufu is a botanical book by Iwasaki Tsunemasa (Japan, 1786-1842), a botanist (among other studies) and samurai.  I gather that he is also the artist who made the gorgeous and scientifically accurate illustrations throughout the book — thousands of illustrations, as the book contains something like 92 volumes.  There is, however, not a lot of available information about this book, and what I could find gave me a fair bit of uncertainty.  Apparently the early volumes were produced in 

wood block print, although sources are contradictory as to whether they were color prints, or black-ink-only prints watercolored afterwards.  Later volumes were originally produced in watercolor, but then it may be that the entire thing was reproduced in wood block print after Iwasaki’s death, but I could not find any versions of that edition on-line.

        But uncertainty is not something any of us needs more of right now, so don’t worry about all that.  What we need is a bit of beauty, and that’s why I picked these pieces to share today.  These particular pieces are all wood block prints, and the really flashy flowering plants appear in the later volumes illustrated in watercolor, but in some ways these quieter plants are more soothing.  Certainly you can admire how Iwasaki arranged his compositions to show off even relatively plain plants to best effect.  He’s one of the few people I know who ranks with Maria Sybilla Merian in presenting science with true artistry, although I don’t know whether he made any scientific discoveries (as Merian did) or simply compiled and presented current knowledge.

        One of the things I find particularly appealing is the way the two-page spreads are used.  Even though each page has its own frame, the plants cross the divide.  Sometimes that’s because a plant is spread wide (or tall, although I haven’t included any with that composition) across the full space, but even when the two pages are devoted to separate plants, as in the third and fourth pictures here, Iwasaki still makes sure to bring some leaves across the divide to unify the spread.  This is very different from, say, Merian or comparable European art.

        My ability to tell you more about the book or the plants themselves is limited by my inability to read Japanese, so while I can identify many of the plants, I don’t know them all.  Just click on the pictures to make them bigger, breathe deeply, and enjoy.

[Pictures: Something in the legume family, Plate 17, Volume 5;

Ferns, Pl. 5, Vol. 6;

I don’t know what, Pl. 14, Vol. 6;

Spider lilies, Pl. 35, Vol. 7;

I don’t know what, Pl. 26, Vol. 8, all from Honzo Zufu by Iwasaki Tsunemasa, c 1828-1844 (All Images from National Diet Library).]