In a few days time, the hearts, chocolates and premium-priced roses will be eagerly snapped up by lovers and would-be lovers, keen to demonstrate their devotion to the object of their affection. And while the commercial aspect of Valentine’s Day is very much a modern phenomenon, the day itself has its origins in the Middle Ages.
True, very early foundations for the day can be found in the ancient Roman fertility Feast of Lupercalia which randomly paired young boys and girls in marriage; but it was the 14th century that gave us our current focus on romantic love. At that time, the West experienced a surge of interest in saints’ and martyrs’ legends. One very popular story was that of St Valentine, a priest of the 3rd century who defied the Roman Emperor Claudius II’s ban on the marrying of Christian couples, and proceeded to perform marriages in secret. For his efforts, St Valentine was executed in 278, and his feast day came to celebrated on 14th February.
As it happened, too, the medieval people (particularly in France and England) commonly believed that birds began their mating season on 14th February. In his Parlement of Foules (Parliament of Fowls) the great Geoffrey Chaucer recorded the belief for posterity with the words:
For this was sent on Seynt Valentyne’s day
Whan every foul cometh ther to choose his mate
And there it was: the amorous nature of the day was set … for better or worse.
On these warm, clear days of early spring in Sydney, the range of distractions for a writer is unending. Who would not prefer to laze in a sunny spot in the garden, sipping coffee and reading a favourite novel rather than sitting in a cold study, staring at a blank screen, and willing inspiration to manifest?
While the lure of sunny distractions is, I’m sure, age-old, I doubt that our medieval counterparts could often indulge in the luxury of writer’s block because, when they weren’t writing, they were probably collecting or preparing their writing implements. Parchment and ink, of course, were crucial but the main medieval writing instrument was the quill. This earlier pen was a flight feather from a large (and moulting) bird. Most commonly, the goose was the provider but swan feathers were also coveted, though not so readily acquired. Smaller quills were obtained from birds such as crows and owls.
The feathers feature a hollow shaft which allowed ink to be held in reserve between dipping. A quill’s plume, while decorative, also often obscured the clear vision of the page for the writer or copyist and, thus, most medieval scribes favoured a stripped feather. Quills were sharpened with a knife and our present-day terminology preserves the idea (and a version of the implement) in the “pen-knife”.
Perhaps then, bird-watching might be considered a legitimate distraction for a writer – much more enjoyable than taking the laptop in for repairs.