Month: August 2024

The Lay, And The Tragedy, Of Horn-Skinned Siegfried

We have now reached Parts Three and Four of “The Legends of The Ring”. Each tells the story of Siegfried; Part Three as a poem and Part Four as a seven act play. Each of these has been translated by Elizabeth Magee who has done remarkably well to maintain the rhyming couplets and rhythm of the originals.

In her introduction to The Lay of Horn-Skinned Siegfried she tells us that it “is an anonymous work, written around 1500, probably in south Germany and possibly in Nuremberg itself…..Despite its popularity, no-one has ever suggested that [it] is world-class literature. Neither the quality of the poetry nor the structure of the poem would qualify for such an epithet.” I agree with her entirely. The lines are in ponderous iambic hexameter. Magee goes on to describe the work as “cobbled together……joints and couplings are so obvious, the starts and restarts, interpolations, contradictions and repetitions, that one begins to conceive an affection for the poet’s modus operandi and to regard these characteristics as part of the poem’s charm.”

The work does recount Siegfried’s full story of birth, adventures, achievements and death. “The youngster was so headstrong, so big and strong and tough/ , His father and his mother had soon had quite enough./ He wouldn’t serve another in all his livelong day,/ And all he thought and cared for was getting right away.”

The Tragedy of Horn-Skinned Siegfried, A Tragedy with Seventeen Characters in Seven Acts, by Hans Sachs, following the tale in the Lay, was written in 1557, with much smoother rhythm also in rhyming couplets. The speeches given to the dramatis personae, for example in the hammering of the anvil, add a certain comedy to the tragedy.

We have a prologue announced by the Herald who tells what the audience will be given and recounts the lessons learned in the Epilogue.

Both works explain “Horn-Skinned”

Here is a repeat of Simon Brett’s relevant engravings.

This completes my focus on The Legends of The Ring.

Adjusting The Chimes

For one reason or another the patio has been somewhat neglected this year, until the las couple of weeks when Jackie has been able to tackle it. Today has been the hottest so far this year, but she stuck with the task while she could find some shade.

As a work in progress, her implements will be in evidence until the job is completed. Mind you, the next two days are predicted to be even hotter.

Plants are being potted up;

the green one in this image was a Christmas present from Flo, Dillon, and Ellie and has spent 7 months indoors until now.

Troughs have been cleared and refilled;

a collapsed wooden table top leans against the wall beside its pedestal made from a newel post which now holds a lantern that lights up at night, beneath more potted plants.

This trug will collect green refuse.

As she said herself, I made the mistake of letting the Head Gardener out to Otter Nurseries on her own. Among other items she returned with a tray of scented cyclamen.

While we enjoyed our pre-dinner drinks Jackie decided to adjust the broken wind chimes which she had restrung, hung from an old lantern hooked beneath the parasol, and supplemented with two shells. She realised that the wind-catching shell needed to be lowered to help the clapper do its work.

We then dined on pork spare ribs in chipotle sauce, and the Culinary Queen’s colourful vegetable rice, with which I drank more of the Tempranillo.

The Power Of The Web

As we set out on a still warm, but generally overcast, morning for a

forest drive I noticed a feather hanging above a myrtle bloom.

A pigeon was in no hurry to move out of our way along Lower Pennington Lane, alongside which, from a five barred gate

Jackie photographed moorland, and, on the way back,

I photographed walkers pushing a small baby in a buggy.

Before then, we had watched distant geese approaching, then flying over a walking family. The birds travel every day each way between Christchurch and Lymington, presumably finding regular sustenance. (Enlargement by access to the gallery may make them more visible).

Along St Leonard’s Road Jackie photographed me approaching and leaning on a tree in order to

picture a field horse and foal.

Blackberries are ripening along all the hedgerows.

Jackie also photographed this five-barred gate and its view.

Outside the ancient barn ponies cropped the grass on the verge;the animal in the first picture of this gallery hopefully wet-nosed me as I disembarked; finding I had no treats on offer she

stuck her nose through the open passenger window.

This is what it looked like to Jackie inside, while I wandered off.

Joggers along these narrow lanes take their lives in their hands. Those in the first picture were in Lower Pennington Lane. The woman decided to wait until the two cars had gone by; the one in the second was about to be passed by a large tractor towing a long container vehicle.

When, after an hour and a half, we returned home, the feather, despite the stiff breeze had not detached itself from the almost invisible, sticky, thread that held it. Such is the power of the web.

After lunch I posted

From The Saga Of Dietrich Of Bern

This evening the Culinary Queen served up a meal both colourful and flavoursome consisting of lemon chicken on a bed of rice packed with peas, fava beans, red and yellow peppers, onions, and mushrooms, with which I drank Bajoz Tempranillo 2022.

From The Saga Of Dietrich Of Bern

This is Part Two of Book Two of Legends of the Ring. It “was most likely composed in Norway somewhere between 1230 and 1250 by a well-travelled or well- read Norwegian, writing in Norse for the culturally flourishing court of Hakon IV.” (Magee).

This Folio Society selection, focussing on the Siegfried story, does not include the whole of the Dietrich saga, but the last in a series of duels is one between the two heroes. The main thread stitches together bloodthirsty battles between the Nibelungs and the Huns. The translation is by Edward R. Haymes.

In my review of The Nibelungenlied I state that “The powerful prose narrative lacks the beauty of the Icelandic poetry of Book one, although it presents the tale in considerably more detail.” https://derrickjknight.com/2024/08/04/the-nibelungenlied/. Maybe the more fluent and attractive prose in this saga of a now familiar story reflects the writing of someone more akin to the Scandinavian Source.

Dietrich is described thus: “He was long-faced and regular of features, light in colour, and had the best eyes of all men, dark brown in colour. His hair was light and fair and fell in curls. He had no beard, no matter how old he got. His shoulders were so broad that they measured two ells across. His arms were stout like a great trunk and hard as stone. He had fair hands. In the waist he was slender and well-formed, and his hips and his thighs were so stout that everyone thought that it was very strange how the man had been shaped. His legs were fair and well-shaped. And his calves and ankles were so stout that they could have belonged to a giant. His strength was greater than any man knew and he himself scarcely tested it. He was cheerful and modest, generous and a giver of great gifts, so that he did not hold back from his friends with gold or silver or treasure or with almost anything they would accept.”

The birth of Siegfried and his fostering by a hind is beautifully expressed: “A hind came along and took the [baby] boy in her mouth and carried him home to her lair. There she had two fawns. She put the boy down and let him drink for her. She raised him like her own young and he was with the hind for twelve months. Then he was as strong and big as other boys four years old.” Growing thereafter into a perfect match for Dietrich. When Mimir found the youngster and took him in “a hind came running up, went up to Mimic’s knees and licked the face and head of the boy. From this Mimir knew that the hind must have fostered the boy. For this reason he did not want to kill the hind and he took the boy and kept him with him. He intended to raise him as his son and he gave him a name and called him Siegfried.”

This is an example of the greater detail given in this saga to the material covered in previous sections of Legends of the Ring.

We also have more details of lengthy individual duels and battles with fast moving action described.

The position of women in this society obsessed with beauty and strong men of honour is somewhat complex. It was a fate worse than death for a man to be beaten by a woman and fathers are always speaking of giving their daughters to valued suitors. Yet queens and wives can be powerful, scheming and influential. We have clear indication of this in Chapter 5 of the saga extracts, The Bride-Winning of Siegfried and Gunther.

The first of Simon Brett’s illustrations to this section of the book has been placed above the relevant quotation. The others are in this gallery.

Purchasing Prescience?

Martin worked in the garden all morning, and Ronan and Craig from Tom Sutton Heating checked faults in two radiators. The latter diagnosis was a blocked pipe which necessitates their returning in about a month’s time with a machine to clear it.

I therefore stayed at home while Jackie went shopping.

Today our gardening friend completed his work on weeding the gravelled Gazebo Path, thereby providing a clear walkway the whole length from the iron urn to the southern fence.

I had not noticed when photographing Jackie studying the contents of this antiques cubicle at the Redcliffe Garden Centre Emporium that there was a row of five cut glasses on the third shelf from the bottom beside her left elbow. Why not a set of six? The answer was because she was holding one. She made no purchase. I must have known.

While out this morning she returned to the antiques centre and came back with these cut glasses.

At intervals during the day I completed my reading of The Saga of Dietrich of Bern which I expect to review tomorrow.

This evening we dined on oven fish, chips, and peas.

An Exceptional Year For Magpies

Knowing that we were in for a cool day of continuing rain we took an early forest trip before the showers had begun, therefore before a planned visit to the new Antiques Emporium behind Redcliffe Garden Centre.

Outside Brockenhurst we stopped to watch ponies and foals.

We are accustomed to seeing crows pecking about among the pony droppings, but magpies foraging there is unusual;

one foal, young enough to bear the vestiges of the umbilical cord wondered what the black and white bird was doing perched upon it. Accompanying adults ignored it. It has been an exceptional year for these birds – we even have one nesting in or near to our garden which could be one reason why we have fewer small birds this year. In our Newark Lindum House magpies would come one year and there would be no small birds. The next year the predators would be gone and eggs had a chance to hatch.

Our timing was good. Drizzle began as we turned towards Redcliffe Garden Centre and had begun beating a tattoo on the roof.

It is a fairly long trek through the Garden Centre,

beyond Warman’s Architectural Antiques Area,

to the Emporium, which looks like a resurgence of

(Dammit, I published too early so I am continuing with this addition)

the now defunct Molly’s Den, featured in https://derrickjknight.com/2014/08/22/her-very-own-seaside/

Jackie can be seen studying the contents of some of these antiques cubicles.

On my way round I met a man walking with a stick. Having by now found the unaided walk a real struggle I mentioned that I was regretting having left mine in the car. He said he had done the same thing and bought one here. I decided that it was better to put up with the pain of perambulation than paying for a prop I wouldn’t use again.

This evening we will dine on a roast lamb meal which is already tickling my nostrils.

I Remained In The Car

This morning first Max then Nick of Peacock Computers took remote access to my computer to resolve some issues with the landline phone.

Later on this cooler and greyer afternoon we drove to Milford Pharmacy for repeat prescriptions then to New Milton for a repair to Jackie’s specs at Boots.

A hold-up in traffic caused by the centre traffic lights returning to red

enabled me to focus on Station Road shops and shoppers.

Like us, a motor cyclist waited for his turn to travel on.

Around the corner a cyclist in Ashley Common Road risked entangling her dress.

Regular readers who recognise how narrow, winding, and potholed is Holmsley Passage will understand how difficult it was to negotiate a family car surrounded by children and mother while father knelt changing a punctured tyre. It seemed unkind to photograph the very tempting scene, but one little boy on one side was called to the other in order for Jackie to risk the car’s undercarriage while spanning a deep dip between nibbled tarmac and undergrowth.

I settled for a shot of the bracken and heather moorland.

The paucity of ponies noticed on our trip suggested that they may know something we don’t. It was certainly rather gloomy when we

met these ponies on the verge just outside Burley. One creature seemed to be sheltering behind a car, while the other two had no need for the head to tail protection from flies.

It will possibly be apparent that in the interests of taking it easy I remained in the car throughout.

This evening we dined on Ferndene Farm Shop pork and chives sausages; flavoursome Portobello mushrooms; creamy mashed potatoes; firm carrots, cauliflower, and broccoli; tender spring greens, and meaty gravy.

Garden News

Although still a little unsteady I have largely recovered from yesterday’s swimming head. I was therefore able to help Jackie load more refuse bags into the car and transport them to the Efford Recycling Centre.

I then attended to administration on which I hadn’t been able to concentrate the day before.

After lunch I wandered around the garden which had freshened up after much overnight rain. I have photographed flowers in situ, some still bejewelled by raindrops and two with bees.

The gallery images bear the titles of the main flowers in each picture.

By dinner time I was fully recovered. Our meal consisted of fat-free Ferndene pork and chive sausages; creamy mashed potatoes; carrots, cauliflower, and cabbage all well cooked, with meaty gravy.

Swimming

My head has been swimming all day. Now just a headache. I hope to sleep it off.

Fly Whisk Technique

I spent the morning completing my reading of The Nibelunglied.

On a warm, sunny, afternoon we took a forest drive on which ponies were out in force.

On the road outside Brockenhurst I disembarked to visit ponies on the verge.

One indulged in a scratch, while another pair, taking advantage of the

shade of trees practiced the fly whisk head to tail technique.

When I stood a bit close for their comfort, they crossed to the other side of the road, testing the patience of drivers, but not cyclists who can skirt round them.

This year’s foals are growing into their gangly legs.

On the way into Burley another cyclist rounded ponies on the road.

On our return home I published

The Nibelungenlied

This evening we dined on second helpings of Jackie’s cottage pie, fresh carrots, cauliflower, broccoli stems, and green beans with which I drank more of the Malbec.