Monday, September 29, 2025

Equinox garden

 

Late flowers on Wild Marjoram/Oregano (Oreganum vulgare). Frome, 28 September 2025.

Its summer days shimmering with manifold bees and butterflies are long gone, but the rain has given us a few late sprigs of blossom. 

This is the herb "oregano", and it grows wild in the British Isles (hence its other name, "Wild Marjoram"). 

The herb "marjoram" is a more tender Mediterranean plant that wouldn't survive here.


Late flowers on Verbena bonariensis. Frome, 28 September 2025.

Each landing-pad seems to be able to produce new flowers all through the summer. Another plant beloved by bees. 

It's native to tropical South America, but has no trouble growing here in the UK. In a mild winter even the above-ground stems may survive, enabling a speedier start next year. 

I'm not sure what British gardeners call it. We call it "those tall things" or "the Verbs" (relying on context because there are lots of other kinds of Verbena).


Late flowers on Raspberry (Rubus idaeus). Frome, 28 September 2025.

The raspberry canes under the swing-frame carry on gallantly.


Late fruit on Raspberry (Rubus idaeus). Frome, 28 September 2025.

Japanese Anemone. Frome, 28 September 2025.


Less invasive and a deeper pink than the other variety in the garden. It might be variety "Praecox" (apparently that means "precocious").
As for the botanical name, I'm not sure whether to call it Eriocapitella hupehensis (like the botanists) or Anemone hupehensis (like everyone else) or Anemone x hybrida -- but I believe the latter are usually double or semi-double. 



Young fruits on Common Fig (Ficus carica). Frome, 28 September 2025.

These are the fruits that will be ripe next summer. They've already been on the tree for a year or so. I always forget that initially they are technically flowers. 



Leaves of Geranium macrorrhizum. Frome, 28 September 2025.

If you understand botanical naming and know why there's a double R in the middle of macrorrhizum, please enlighten me!


Cyclamens. Frome, 28 September 2025.

Close-up of Red Valerian (Centranthus ruber). Frome, 28 September 2025.

This is the pinkish-purple form, apparently the only one of interest to butterflies, though bees eagerly visit all the colours. 

It still attracts a few visitors at this time of year: Large Whites, a Hummingbird Hawk-moth, late bees and bumble-bees.



Michaelmas Daisies. Frome, 28 September 2025.

The ever-expanding stand of Michaelmas Daisies. That's as far as I can go with ID. The biggish toothed leaves look distinctive, but Google Lens isn't being helpful. 




Garden bench. Frome, 28 September 2025.

One of the benches that become plant-stands in their rickety old age.  



Sedum, more colourful in fruit than in flower. Frome, 28 September 2025.

The botanical name is now Hylotelephium spectabile, but I think a lot of people will stick to "sedum", just as they'll call the scarlet plant in the previous pic a "geranium".




Late flowers on fuchsia. Frome, 28 September 2025.


Of course I don't know what variety it is. It's a large shrub, been here at least thirty years. 

The bees love it. However I've just learnt that in South America the pollinators are hummingbirds, and that red and purple is their favourite colour combination. 



Dewdrops on Lady's-mantle. Frome, 28 September 2025.

The always entrancing sight of dew forming large drops on the leaves of Lady's-mantle. It only happens on the fresh leaves. The older ones let the water seep away. 


Dewdrops on Lady's-mantle. Frome, 28 September 2025.


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Sunday, September 28, 2025

Learning Swedish with Elin Olofsson

 

Gånglåt, med hjortronsylt (cloudberry jam).


I've just finished reading Gånglåt (2016), a novel by the Jämtland author Elin Olofsson.

A "gånglåt" is a walking tune suitable for brisk country walks, such as the melody of "Vi går över daggstänkta berg, fallera!" The normal context is folk tunes, relevant to the novel's rural setting in Jämtland and to the musical career of Sonia, one of the lead characters. It also suggests the happy uncomplicated communing of people who are in harmony with each other... something that Gånglåt very devastatingly fails to portray. 

Here's some language notes, basically addressed to myself and of interest only to other people who are learning Swedish (and are probably getting a bit beyond Duolingo).

I found it a perfect novel for that purpose: contemporary, realistic, unsentimental, concise with its details and poetry, exact in its rendering of ordinary speech. The rural setting also worked for me, though other learners might want something more urban.

SAOB, constantly referenced here, means Svenska Akademiens Ordbok, the Swedish equivalent of the Oxford English Dictionary but freely available online (though I hardly dare to mention this for fear of jinxing it). The definitions are massively detailed and not easy reading,  but pasting bits into Google Translate is usually enough to get the gist.


Kattan

Men i mig bor en farlig katta
med mjuka tassen slår hon mus 
hon åmar sig långt bort i natta 
stryker trolöst varje hus
  (p. 5)
But in me lives a dangerous she-cat
With soft paws she kills the mouse
She stalks far away at night
Faithlessly swishes through every house

The chapter epigraph hints at Sonia's unsettled and jarring behaviour when she revisits the family homestead. 

"Kattan" was Sonia's first hit record, back in 1979. "Katta" is a variant of "katt"; it just means a cat, or sometimes a female cat specifically; hence it's been used as a gendered insult directed at a woman. 

"Stryker" carries the general sense of lightly smoothing or sliding over a surface, for example ironing.  It can also have a connotation of swindling, like a cat who visits many houses for food. 


Omission of "it" (det)

Vi sparar väl åt henne så att det finns när hon kommer... (p. 9)

We'll save it for her so it's there when she comes...

Note also the present tense "sparar" (where English uses the future tense)  and the frequent use in speech of words like "väl" and "ju" and "minsann" which are pretty impossible to translate directly into English. They act like intensifiers that also propose a tone, inviting the listener's collusion in e.g. confidence or resignation or doubt. 

E.g. the doctor allowing Sonia one glass of wine: "Det ska ju bara vara bra för hjärtat" (p. 117) --  "It's good for the heart, supposedly". Or Nancybeth arriving with a suitcase: "För ni tar väl emot mig?" (p. 143) -- "Because you'll take me in, right?"

Omission of has/had (har/hade)

Går ju att värma på om hon inte stannat längs vägen och ätit. (p. 9)

It can be heated up if she hasn't stopped along the way and eaten.

It's usual to miss out the first part of compound verbs in subordinate clauses. Despite the omission the meaning is evident because in Swedish the supine form (stannat, ätit) is only ever used in compound verbs. 

Big and little sister / hålla

"Storsyrran," viskade Sonia medan hon höll om henne. (p. 10)

"Big sister," Sonia whispered as she held her.

"Storsyrran" and "lillsyrran" are intimate forms of "storasyster" and "lillasyster". Compare Sture's "dotra" (my daughter, p. 118).

"Hålla om" is to hold someone in the sense of hugging them. "Hålla i" is to hold someone in the sense of e.g. holding on to someone's hand to stop them slipping down a slope. "Hålla på" is to support e.g. a football team; "hålla ordning på" is to keep [sth./sne.] in check; "hålla på här hemma", stay (continue) here at home; "hålla på med hennes bok", work on (continue) her book. 

The harp

"Så du spelar? Harpa, alltså? Eller är det efter patiensen?"

"So you play? The harp, I suppose? Or is it from the patience game?"

When Jenny hears that Sonia's companion is nicknamed Harpan, which means "the harp", her natural first assumption is that he's a musician like Sonia. But "harpan" is also the Swedish name of a popular patience game, the one that Microsoft simply calls Solitaire. 

Out in the kitchen

"I'm going to get the roast," Gun-Britt said and disappeared.

Sture collected up the starter plates, put them on the tray and followed her out to the kitchen.

"Yes, I thought he was going to be younger," Gun-Britt said again. "And he was married too, he had a gold ring on his finger."

"Don't start thinking like that. It's probably just someone she knows," said Sture.

"But I'd hoped that she... And she was so anxious about could he rent and was there a slot and it had to be Bergsstugan because it's the nicest."

"She just wanted to help, she knows we need paying guests," said Sture, scooping boiled potatoes into a large porcelain bowl.

"No, not that one. You can't wash it in the machine. The gilt comes off," said Gun-Britt and took the bowl from him.

She put it down on the kitchen side and took another from out the cupboards.

One by one she transferred the potatoes into it with a ladle.

"I thought she seemed so down last winter, but she's been happier on the phone this spring, so I thought she might have met someone."

Sture didn't answer, he carefully rinsed the porcelain bowl under the tap without using any washing-up liquid, then wiped it with a kitchen towel and put it back from where he'd taken it.

"Don't go on at her about it," he said. "You know how she gets mad when you do, she thinks you're sticking your oar in."

"I simply care about my daughter, how she's feeling and how she's getting on," replied Gun-Britt, and then they went out to the dining-room again, Sture with the potatoes and the plate for peelings, she with the roast and the carving-knife and the gravy in a jug.

She had to go back and get the salad before they could start on the main course.

*

"Jag går och hämtar steken", sa Gun-Britt och försvann.

Sture samlade ihop förrättstallrikarna, lade dem på brickan och gick efter henne, ut till köket.

"Ja, jag trodde han skulle vara yngre", sa Gun-Britt igen. "Och han var ju gift också, hade guldring på fingret."

"Lägg dig inte i det där. Det är väl bara någon hon känner", sa Sture. 

"Men jag hade hoppats att hon. . . Och hon var så angelägen om att han skulle få hyra, att det fanns plats. Och just Bergsstugan skulle det vara. För att den är finast."

"Hon ville väl bara hjälpa till, hon vet att Vi behöver hyresgäster", sa Sture och öste upp kokt potatis i en stor porslinsskål.

"Inte den där. Den går inte att diska I maskin. Förgyllningen släpper", sa Gun-Britt och tog ifrån honom skålen.

Hon satte ner den på köksbänken och tog fram en annan ur skåpen.

En efter en puttade hon över potatiserna i den med en slev.

"Hon lät ju så nere i vintras tyckte jag, men hon har ju låtit gladare på telefon nu i vår så jag tänkte att hon kanske träffat någon."

Sture svarade inte, han sköljde försiktigt porslinsskålen under kraken utan att ta något diskmedel och sedan torkade han ur den med en kökshandduk och ställde tillbaka den där han tagit den.

"Ligg inte på henne om det", sa han. "Du vet att hon blir sur om du gör det. Att hon tycker att du lägger dig i."

"Jag bryr om min dotter bara, hur hon mår och hur hon har det", svarade Gun-Britt, och så gick de ut i salen igen, Sture med potatisen och skalfatet, hon med steken och kniven och brunsåsen i en snipa. 

Salladen fick hon gå tillbaka och hämta innan de kunde börja med varmrätten. 

(From Ch 2, pp. 50-51.)

Stek: a roast in this case, though "steka" is also "to fry". Gun-Britt's dinner began with some rather unusual blinis, but the main course is nothing fancy: roast beef, boiled potatoes, gravy with a bit of cream in it (though not much), and salad. 

Skulle: three appearances in this extract, neatly showing its three main uses; "was going to", "would" and "should".

Guldring på fingret: literally "gold ring on the finger", where English uses a tautological possessive adjective ("his finger"). Compare "sonen" on p. 63 ("the son", where we'd say "his son").

Ligg inte på henne om det: I can't find this exact phrase, but the gist is "Don't go on at her about it". Sture is habitually a smoother-over. Underneath he's probably thinking just the same as his fiery wife, but he tries to stop her thinking or acting. Gun-Britt has a semi-functioning marriage (more than Sonia will ever have), and Sture seems a lovely guy, but Sture diplomatically sleeps through everything, she's on her own.

Snipa: any sort of pouring jug: a gravy-boat in this case, but the word's also used for a cream-jug. Related to "snip", a spout.


Snickarglädje 

utan att det skar sig mot snickarglädjen (p. 52)

Snickarglädje (lit. carpenter's joy) is the fancy carved tracery with lots of piercings on the verandas and gables of wooden houses. It arrived in Sweden from Germany in the 19th century (a fashion that originated in Swiss chalets).

https://www.byggahus.se/bygga/snickargladje-da-nu

NB "Snickare" is a general word for woodworker, covering all kinds of furniture as well as house timbers, whereas "carpenter" in English tends to imply house-carpentry, i.e. in contrast to cabinetry or turnery which have become niche crafts now that everyday furniture is mass-produced.  

Snickarglädje 

[Image source: https://www.gaveldekor.se/product/gavelornament-012-snickargladje-till-tak-taknock .]


On fastenings

Blixtlåset bak i ryggen hittade han men inte hyskan som satt längst upp. När hon skulle hjälpa honom fastnade en slinga av hennes hår i den och luggade henne i nacken. (p. 62)

He located the zip behind her back but not the fastener higher up. When she tried to help him a strand of her hair got caught in it and pulled back her neck.

Of course Per wants to undress her, he's that type of guy, but the new dress that Jenny already regrets buying is causing problems.

Strictly, a hake is a hook and a hyska is an eye or eyelet. A dressmaker would buy a pack of "Hakar och hyskor", meaning hooks and eyes. One of each constitutes a fastener, a häkta, so you might also see them sold as "häktor".

" Luggade" literally means tangled. 

"Nacken" is the back of the neck, as opposed to "halsen" (the throat). The latter word is also what you'd use for "neck" in general, e.g. "Giraffen har en lång hals".

Since we're on the subject, "Hon knäppte upp knappen i byxorna" (p.127) means "She undid the button on her trousers" -- not "she did up the button", which would be "knäppte ihop knappen..." But watch out, because "Som tur var hade hon knäppt skjortan ända upp" (p. 131) means "Luckily she'd buttoned her shirt all the way up", just as in English. 

The reverse sense of "upp" (from an English perspective) occurs elsewhere too. When Nancybeth gives the impression that had "tänkt packa upp utomhus" (p.143), it means she looked like she was going to unpack outside, not pack up.


Afterwards

När allt rasat ut, det man burit och längtat och trampat sönder, då skulle döden vara så här, utan villa.

When everything had raged itself to a standstill, everything you carried and yearned for and trampled on, then death would be like this, without will. 

Another whole lot of missing auxiliary "had"s!

"Rasa" is a tricky word meaning violent and noisy bursting out, used for instance about a building collapsing, violent applause, the raging of a storm; also when plants fling ripe seeds. It has sometimes been just a slangy intensifier: "Det är en rasande tur att du leva min vän" (Evert Taube)... Roaring good luck, so to speak. "Rasa ut" implies something raging itself to a standstill e.g. a fury, a storm blowing itself out. 

"Trampa" on its own just means "tread". "Trampa sönder" means "trample", literally "tread to bits".


Night cleaning

Hon sprejade handfatet, kranen och spegeln med en tjockt lager städsprej och hoppades att hon inte skulle bli sjuk själv, för det hade hon inte tid med. Fast hon blev aldrig sjuk, tänkte hon medan hon började gnugga kranen och handfatet med en disksvamp.

Aldrig sjuk och aldrig upplöst längre, som Nancybeth nyss. När sprejen runnit av spegeln såg hon sig själv. Som berget. Grå, grå, grå. Aldrig nygråten numera.

She sprayed the washbasin, tap and mirror with a thick layer of bathroom cleaner and hoped she wasn't going to get sick herself, she had no time for that. Though she never did get sick, she thought as she began wiping round the tap and basin with a sponge.

No, she was never sick any more, never in bits the way Nancybeth was just now. When the spray ran down off the mirror she saw herself. Like the mountain. Grey, grey, grey. Never wet with fresh tears, not any more.

This is Gun-Britt cleaning up the vomit and diarrhoea after getting Nancybeth back to bed.

Disksvamp: a sponge for household cleaning, normally a sponge-scourer these days. The marine animals that we call sponges are called "svampdjur" in Swedish, which itself derives from "svamp" (mushroom, fungus) + "djur" (animal). So "disksvamp" in this sense combines "diska" (cleaning) with "svamp" (a sponge). [But confusingly "disksvamp" also means discomycetes fungi such as Scarlet Elf Cup; in this case a combination of "disk" (a disc shape) with "svamp" (a fungus)!]

Upplöst: literally dissolved, disintegrated; emotionally in bits. 

Nygråten: literally newly wept, i.e. when you've just been crying. You won't find this in SAOB, but it's common, e.g. describing people (usually proud mums and dads) with tears in their eyes on Instagram.


"Bortaflin" and "hemmagrin"

Bortaflin och hemmagrin hette det ju, men när de hyrde av henne eller kom till hennes gård var det som om hon tvingades ha bortaflinet på sig hemma också. Det tärde. (p. 99)

The "away grin" and the "home groan" as they say, but when people took her cabins or came up to the farm it was like she had to wear the "away grin" even in her own home. It was wearing thin.

So Gun-Britt's rhyming tag is about the bright  smile you put on when in public, masking the real feelings that you only give way to in the privacy of your own home. 

The only other place I could find this rhyming pair of expressions was in a post by Elin Olofsson herself, but I did come across another saying: "Efter flin kommer grin" (After grinning comes tears).

Both the words are nouns that are less common than their equivalent verbs (flinagrina).

Flin means "grin", with the same potentially disapproving implications as in English, e.g. a stupid or silly grin (as in Gun-Britt's saying), or the kind of jeering grin that so infuriates serious-minded adults (as in the other saying). 

Grin means the distortion of the face when crying (SAOB grin 3). This is the predominant meaning in the north of Sweden, but in the south of Sweden it usually means just a grin (SAOB grin 4, an import from Danish as some think). Both senses are ultimately connected with the idea of showing your teeth.  The southern sense would of course ruin the point of these sayings, which perhaps explains why they're not used very much. 

Here's a link to that blog post by Elin Olofsson (in Swedish). It reflects on this passage in Gånglåt and on the business of attracting tourism into the depopulated areas of Jämtland. 

https://elinolofssondotcom.wordpress.com/2016/03/05/men-aldrig-vackra-vykort/


Jämtska or slang or what?

Hon hörde musiken i huvudet. Hörde piano, hörde gitarr, hörde de klanger hon hört från början när hon skrev låten. (p. 99)

She heard the music in her head. Heard the piano, heard the guitar, heard the sounds she'd heard when she first wrote the song.

Midsummer evening. Sonia is singing unaccompanied; she hasn't played guitar for years. 

It's obvious what the sentence means, but I don't understand the construction. Does "hörde de klanger" mean "heard them sound (as she had heard them...)" or "heard the sounds (that she had heard...)"? Either way it doesn't seem to be standard Swedish. 


On dishes

... när hon gick runt bordet och samlade ihop disken. (p. 99)

... as she went round the table gathering up the dishes.

Three words to choose between. A dish as in an item of fancy food that you serve up is "en maträtt". A dish as in a utensil is probably "en skål" (a bowl) or "ett fat" (a saucer, also barrel or basin) : e.g. Put it in a dish and cover it, "Lägg det i en skål och täck över". Dishes as in dirty dishes, washing-up, is "disken" or "diskarna" (SAOB disk II.1.b); the former is in definite singular form but with plural meaning, I think. More common than the noun is the verb derived from it: diska, to wash up.


To excess

"Midsommar. Det är nu det vänder", sa hon.

Hon ville att han skulle säga det han alltid sa, det hon hört till leda, att sommaren var lång, att det var mycket kvar än, det som han brukade säga när vedboden var tom eller fönstren behövde kittas om, "sommaren är lång, Gun-Britt, det hinns med sedan", men han sa ingenting. (pp. 103-104)

"Midsummer. Now is when it turns," she said.

She wanted him to say what he always said, what she had heard till she was sick of it, that summer was long, that there was still plenty more time, the things he usually said when the woodshed was empty or the windows needed caulking, "Summer is long, Gun-Britt, there's time for that later," but he said nothing. 

"Till leda" is an informal expression meaning something repeated to the point of excess. In English we'd use expressions like "you've been told it a thousand times", "fed to the back teeth", "until I'm blue in the face" or "I've had it up to here with..." to express the same idea. 

But now after the disastrous midsummer gathering a weakened Gun-Britt longs to hear Sture's timeworn reassurance, even if she'd only find fault with it. 


One

Stigen han funnit gick snett över ena hörnet av en åker ... (p. 105).

The route he'd found cut across one corner of a field... 

"Ena hörnet" looks weird; I never saw this on Duolingo! It literally means "the one corner"; ena is the definitive form of en or ett

Snett means "diagonally" (or the obsolescent English word "athwart").

"Han funnit" is a concealed subordinate clause (that he had found), so "hade" is omitted.

Enastående (or enstående) means "extraordinary". 

En can also be used as an impersonal pronoun, instead of man. Here Sonia uses both.

Alla namn tvingar en tillbaka, tänkte Sonia. De sliter och drar i en tills man finner det någon drömde om, tänkte ut och planerade för. (p. 111)

Every name forces you back, Sonia thought. They tear and pull at you until you find what someone dreamed of, thought out and planned for.

She knows her name (originally "Sonja") means "wisdom" (Slavic variant of Sophia) but doubts if her parents chose it for that reason. Gun-Britt means "battle-bright", if it comes to that.

Standing upright

När han fått åt sig lite mer luft reste Harpan på ryggen igen. (p. 106)

When he had taken in a bit more air Harpan straightened up again.

This is "resa" not in the sense of journeying but of setting something upright (SAOB resa v2), e.g the common expression "resa på sig", to get up (stand up from a sitting position). "Resa på ryggen" literally means to straighten up the back. (Harpan after running has bent forward panting with his hands on his knees.) 


Vein-painting and gourd-painting

". . . Och ibland hittade han gamla möbler på stan som han tog hem, till och med en gammal ådermålad kista norrifrån med bröllopsdatum som han sa vi kunde låtsas var vårt." (p. 113)

". . . And sometimes he found old furniture in town that he brought home, even an old vein-painted chest from up north with a wedding date that he said we could pretend was ours."


Åder is a vein (blood-vessel, same figurative uses as in English). "Ådermålad" refers to Ådring or ådringsmålning (see Wikipedia), the technique of staining and patterning the surface of cheap wood such as pine to make it look a bit like mahogany or walnut. It's comparable to marble-effect and in English is called faux wood grain. It was very popular in Sweden at the beginning of the 20th century, then crashed out of fashion; I remember it on old furniture in our Jämtland summer cottage. 


Commode with ådringsmålning 

[Image source: https://auctionet.com/sv/4586547-komod-adringsmalad-1800-tal .]


... där en av amerikanerna dessutom köpt två bursar hjortronsylt och ett kurbitsmålat skrin på loppisen. (p. 135)

... where one of the Americans also bought two jars of cloudberry jam and a gourd-painted box from the junkshop. 

Gun-Britt's establishment is entirely typical. Like the coffee servery, the "loppis" is an integral part of any Jämtland farmstead that invites passing tourists; a repository for old furniture, obsolete farm tools, faded linen, bibles, paperbacks and CDs.

"Kurbitsmålning" is a decorative folk art that originated in Dalarna, characterized by richly coloured vegetable and flower shapes. "Kurbits" refers to the squash or pumpkin family (perhaps Jonah's gourd), but the botanical forms aren't meant to portray specific plants. 

A box decorated with kurbitsmålning 

[Image source: https://auctionet.com/sv/653033-skrin-med-kurbitsmalning-1800-tal .]


Do bears whistle?

"Det säger att den visslar när den kommer, men jag vet inte om det är sant." (p. 120)

"They say it whistles as it approaches, but I don't know if that's true."

Widely credited in Sweden, and often attested (E.g. recently by rider Jhenny Larsson in Offerdal, just before being chased by a bear for 3 km (P4 Jämtland)). According to skansen.se, those who come into contact with brown bears generally say that they make a blowing sound that can resemble a soft whistle.


Jocular inversions

Swedish lends itself to stylistic inversions, much more than modern English. The auctioneer uses this colloquial one, to a child:

"Fråga pappa din om han har råd med en hundralapp..." (p. 127)

"Ask your dad if he has a spare hundred-note ...." (100 kronor note, roughly equivalent to a £10 note)

Compare Sture: "De har ju alltid haft mycket med tornen sina" (p. 144); " Yes, they've always had a lot going on with their towers". (Sture is carefully ignoring the emotional point of the conversation.) 


Fika at the farm

Sonia is talking about what's going into her book.

"... Hur pappa alltid lyfte fram mig och såg min talang." (p. 130)

"... how dad always bigged me up and saw my talent."

"Framlyfta" means to highlight or emphasize, but unlike those terms it's also commonly applied to people. A good boss should "lyfta fram" his employees. On LinkedIn people say: I'm not writing this to "lyfta fram" myself but my marvellous team... Often the simplest English translation of "lyfta fram" would be "praise". 

But Sonia has come down to the farm with all guns blazing, and she means her sister Gun-Britt to feel the full implication of a highlight standing out from a contrasted background: Dad always put me and my exceptional gift in the spotlight, but naturally he left you in the shade.

Gun-Britt is a bit slow to fire up this morning, possibly because she knows she has a bombshell to drop on Sonia. The conversation turns to Gun-Britt's daughter Jenny, who's feeling poorly.

"Men hon lär väl bli bättre lagom till kvällen", sa Sonia. (p. 131)

"But she will likely be better enough this evening," said Sonia.

Gun-Britt still doesn't see it coming, but the curiously poised expression ought to warn her that Sonia has come with her own bombshell.

"Lär" is an auxiliary verb for talking about the future, but with an element of doubt: translate as "will", "may" or "should". Sonia isn't usually so understated, and it's a warning sign.

"Lagom" (suitably, appropriately, right enough) can be just a harmless filler word, and Gun-Britt doesn't challenge it. But the hint is there. Jenny will be better enough for what?

Incidentally Sture talks about "bord för fikat"  (p.144): tables for the fika on the wooden towers used by elk hunters. The term "fika" (originally a jocular transformation of "kaffi"?) only dates back to about 1910. It's more commonly a verb than a noun, and the noun's gender seems to be a matter of personal choice, so the rare definitive singular form is "fikat" for some people and "fikan" for others; there's similar variance on the even rarer plural forms. 


Knowledge and science

Jenny's period pains:

Det enda some gjorde smärtan uthärdlig var vetskapen om att den skulle gå över. (p. 132)

The only thing that made the pain bearable was the knowledge that it would pass.

Generally speaking,

vetskap is "knowledge" when it means the knowing of a specific bit of information;

kunskap is "knowledge" when it means knowing a lot (e.g. about a wider topic, or in general);

and vetenskap is the normal word for science.

SAOB says the distinctions are often blurred.


English-style plurals 

Swedish has various ways to form the plural of nouns but none of them involves adding -s.

Nevertheless this plural ending turns up in borrowed English words: for instance Sonia talks about "mina fans" (my fans, p. 130), and people wear "jeans". 


Sluta, weak and strong

Harpan during his run, comparing Ante's voice with his own:

... men orden var rundare och slöt om mer. (p. 142)

But the words were rounder and encompassed more.

When I looked it up I was surprised to find that "slöt" was a form of the extremely common verb sluta. Bizarrely (uniquely?) sluta has both strong and weak forms. What I mostly seem to hear are the weak forms (E.g. "slutade" not "slöt") but it's down to local or personal preference. SAOB suggests the weak forms correlate with the meaning "to finish" (terminate, stop, end), the strong forms with "to close" (shut, fasten, lock, unite, occlude). The latter is the case here: omsluta means to encompass or surround.


Snurra om

"Tror du det har snurrat om för henne nu?" (p. 145)

"Do you reckon she's lost it now?"

This is one of those slangy expressions that SAOB isn't very up with, and typing the phrase into Google gives much better results. 

Snurra basically means continuous sound (e.g. background hum, buzz), also applied to the whirring of a wheel. Hence it can mean spinning round, feeling dizzy, your mind in a whirl... and the phrase "det har snurrat om för henne" means she's completely lost it, gone to pieces: mental suffering and confusion after a traumatic event. 

[Nancybeth's husband has deserted her, and now she's acting oddly. Gun-Britt's question to Sture is more practical than sympathetic: Does she really mean what she says, or has she gone completely off her rocker now? Gun-Britt invites her husband's collusion, but as usual Sture is a disappointment.]


*

Elin Olofsson on sly in rural Jämtland and in her novels [Swedish with English translation]:

https://swedishenglish.org/news/selta-workshop/author-elin-olofsson-with-translators-in-london/

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Tuesday, September 09, 2025

Journeys of Pericles, Prince of Tyre

 


Journeyings of Pericles, Thaisa and Marina in William Shakespeare's Pericles, Prince of Tyre.

"Pentapolis" just means an association of five cities, and there were several of these in the ancient world. On the map I've placed Pentapolis in Cyrenaica, as explicitly stated in the earliest extant version of the story, the Historia Apollonii Regis Tyri (Latin, 5th-6th century CE). The tale's six locations (Antioch, Tyre, Tarsus, Pentapolis, Ephesus, Mytilene) are reverently preserved in all the subsequent renderings relevant to Shakespeare's play, though these later authors may have had a different idea, or no idea at all, where Pentapolis was supposed to be.

William Shakespeare and his putative co-author George Wilkins strictly maintained the locations too, though they changed quite a few of the characters' names: e.g. Pericles had previously been Apollonius; Marina had previously been "Thaise" (Gower); Thaisa wasn't named at all by Gower and was "Lucina" in Twine.

*

(In the map and below, the scenes in brackets are those in which Pericles himself doesn't appear.)

Journey #0.

Before the play begins. Pericles has travelled from Tyre to Antioch. 

Act I Scene 1: Antioch, where Pericles discovers the king Antiochus's secret incest, and realizes that he's a marked man.

Journey #1. 

Pericles returns swiftly to Tyre. 

Act I Scenes 2 and 3: Tyre. Pericles appoints Helicanus his regent, and sails off quickly enough to just miss the assassin Thaliard, commissioned by Antiochus.

Journey #2.

Pericles sails to Tarsus. 

Act I Scene 4: Tarsus, where Pericles relieves the famine and earns the gratitude of Cleon and Dionyza (as he believes).

Journey #3.

Advised by Helicanus' letter that it isn't safe to prolong his stay in Tarsus, Pericles takes to the high seas again, is driven before a storm and shipwrecked off the coast of Pentapolis. 

Act II Scenes 1,2,3 and 5 take place in Pentapolis, where Pericles wins the hand of the king's daughter Thaisa.

(Act II Scene 4 brings us up to date with the regent Helicanus in Tyre.)

Journey #4. Pericles and his heavily-pregnant wife Thaisa set off for Tyre. Act III Scene 1, on the ship: they run into a storm, are blown off course, Thaisa gives birth to Marina and dies in childbirth. After placing Thaisa in a coffin and throwing it overboard (urged by the superstitious sailors), Pericles proceeds with the newborn Marina to Tarsus, because it's near to where the ship has ended up. 

Journey #5. Meanwhile, Thaisa's coffin is carried by the waves to Ephesus. 

(Act III Scenes 2 and 4: Ephesus, where Thaisa is restored to life by Cerimon, and goes to live in the temple of Diana.)

Act III Scene 3: Tarsus, where Pericles asks Cleon and Dionyza to take care of Marina.

Journey #6. See the end of III.3, and the beginning of IV.Prologue. After leaving Marina to be brought up in Tarsus, Pericles returns to Tyre.

About fourteen years pass....

(Act IV Scene 1: Tarsus. Dionyza, jealous of Marina outshining her own daughter, orders her murder.)

Journey #7.

In the nick of time, Marina is captured by pirates and taken to Mytilene. 

(Act IV Scene 2: Mytilene, where Marina is purchased for a brothel.)

(Act IV Scene 3: Tarsus, where Cleon and Dionyza argue about her wicked order, which they believe has been carried out.)

Journey #8.

Pericles sails from Tyre to Tarsus. 

Act IV Scene 4: Tarsus, where Pericles is told of his daughter's death and breaks down in despair.

(Act IV Scenes 5 and 6: Mytilene. More brothel scenes, the meeting with Lysimachus, Marina's eventual release to a virtuous life.)

Journey #9.

Pericles in despair is "driven by the winds" to Mytilene.

Act V Scene 1: on the ship, moored at Mytilene. Pericles is reunited with Marina.

Journey #10.

Pericles and Marina (with Lysimachus, her husband-to-be) sail to Ephesus, as instructed by Diana in a dream. 

Act V Scenes 2 and 3: Ephesus. Pericles and Marina are reunited with Thaisa. 

Journey #11.

After the play is over: Pericles, Thaisa and Marina (with Lysimachus) return to Tyre. 


*

The 1609 quarto title page tells us that the author was William Shakespeare and that the play had been performed "divers and sundry times" at the Globe by His Majesty's Servants.

The play is usually dated 1607-1608. Despite the plain statement on the title page, there are stretches of the play that contain little hint of Shakespeare's distinctive late style (especially in the first two acts) and most scholars have concluded that the play is co-authored. 

Shakespeare was the lead dramatist of the most prestigious company, but he was apparently returning to co-authorship after many years of not needing it; e.g. the never-finished (?) Timon of Athens (1606?) with Middleton (?). His own productivity was starting to decline. 

A defence of Shakespeare's sole authorship would need to argue that he deliberately wrote much of the play in an alien and primitive manner. It's possible. The choruses by the character Gower are definitely written in a quaint quasi-medieval style; a similar approach could extend to the scenes in between. F. David Hoeniger did a good job of arguing this:

F. David Hoeniger, "Gower and Shakespeare in Pericles," Shakespeare Quarterly Vol 33 No 4 (Winter 1982), pp. 461-479.

https://www.jstor.org/stable/2870126

Hoeniger knew what he was ignoring, but it was a provocative and persuasive vision. And in practice most commentators on the play's meaning, once their thesis gathers momentum, find the play remarkably unified and are apt to speak loosely about Shakespeare as its creator, tacitly ignoring the co-authorship.

*

The tale of Apollonius of Tyre exists in numerous versions though its ultimate origins (Greek, 3rd century CE?) are lost. 

Most of the relevant texts for a study of Pericles are, happily for us amateurs, available online. I've labelled them chronologically from T to Z (I was trying to avoid letters like F and Q that usually have other meanings when it comes to Shakespeare texts). 

T. Historia Apollonii Regis Tyri (Latin, 5th-6th century CE). The primary extant source. 

https://www.thelatinlibrary.com/histapoll.html

U. In Godfrey of Viterbo's Pantheon aka Liber Universalis (Latin, c. 1185). Not available online.

V. In the Latin collection Gesta Romanorum (Latin, 13th-early 14th c.). In the Oesterley presentation linked below it's No 153, subtitled "De tribulacione temporali que in gaudium sempiternum postremo commutabitur".

https://la.m.wikisource.org/wiki/Gesta_Romanorum_(Oesterley)/153

W. John Gower, Confessio Amantis (English, c. 1390). The tale of Apollonius is in Book VIII, lines 268-2008. 

https://quod.lib.umich.edu/c/cme/Confessio/1:9?rgn=div1;view=fulltext

[Gower says that his source for the tale is Godfrey of Viterbo's Pantheon (U). It was certainly one of his sources, but he also seems to have used the Gesta Romanorum (V) and other sources, as well as introducing his own creative changes. See Thari L. Zweers, "Godfrey of Viterbo’s Pantheon and John Gower’s Confessio Amantis: The Story of Apollonius Retold," Accessus Vol. 5 Iss. 1 , Article 3 (2019):  https://scholarworks.wmich.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=1045&context=accessus .]

X. Laurence Twine's Patterne of Painefull Aduentures (English, 1576, reprinted in 1594(5?) and in 1607). 

https://internetshakespeare.uvic.ca/doc/Twine_Q1/complete/index.html

This is an English prose rendering of the tale of Apollonius (it wasn't the first); it was translated from a French version of the Gesta Romanorum (V).

Y. William Shakespeare (and perhaps another author; currently the most favoured candidate is George Wilkins): Pericles, Prince of Tyre (English, written and performed c. 1607). It was a big hit. It was printed in 1609 in an unauthorised quarto. The quarto text is very poor, but it's all we've got. Was it scribbled down in shorthand by someone in the audience who then struggled to make sense of their notes, regularly mistook words ("to" for "too", "will" for "ill"...) and inserted full stops in the wrong place? I'm trying to describe the impression the quarto text makes, not seriously offering this as an explanation (though I think it's been mooted before). [When I need to I'll distinguish the lost original ("YO") from the extant quarto ("YQ").]

The quarto text (YQ):
A basic modern edition divided into Acts and Scenes:
The Folger Shakespeare Library edition, edited by Barbara Mowat and Paul Werstine, which supplies the line references I use in this post:

The play's main source is Gower (W)  but it also uses Twine (X) e.g. for the brothel scenes, and it adds its own original features including new names for many of the characters. 

Z. George Wilkins, The Painefull Aduentures of Pericles Prince of Tyre (English, 1608). 

https://quod.lib.umich.edu/e/eebo/A15355.0001.001?rgn=main;view=fulltext

Wilkins' introduction pitches his work as what we would call a "book of the play" (i.e. Y), telling the whole story that his readers had already enjoyed watching at the Globe. Wilkins apparently had access to the text of Y, some of it anyway. His rendering of Antiochus's riddle is basically identical to Y's. But such parallel passages are rare; Wilkins is writing a "novel" (which is to say, a fairly swift-moving prose fiction), so he operates mainly through third-person narrative and reported speech. With that proviso, he often uses the same wording as Y

Wilkins also used Twine (X) as a labour-saving device. Twine's text was already in the right format (i.e. prose fiction). Wilkins could copy chunks of Twine if he brought the names into line, and he often did, e.g. to replace the compressed summaries of the chorus Gower in Y

The snag with labour-saving devices is they lead to the odd mistake (just like copy-and-paste does today). Sometimes Wilkins copied a bit of Twine that either unnecessarily repeated or contradicted what he had written elsewhere. It happens. 

But it's quite wrong to give the impression (as some scholars have done), that Wilkins' novel is a lazy and rushed bit of hack-work. On the contrary, he went to considerable and sometimes pedantic pains to tell the full story of the play, to fill in the background and to spell out the characters' motives and inner feelings. His account of e.g. Lysimachus meeting Marina is a lot more comprehensible than the play's. He also took some trouble to describe the action that his play-going readers had seen on the stage; which can be very helpful to editors when (as often) the text of YQ is so corrupt that the action is unclear. But since a prose fiction doesn't have the logistical constraints of a stage play (e.g. in time and space), Wilkins sometimes handles the action differently; we'll see some examples in the detailed analysis that follows. One thing he wasn't bothered about was capturing every scrap of the play's dialogue, even if he'd written it himself. He only used what contributed to a well-proportioned narrative.

There's an awkward possibility that we have to entertain. It could be that Wilkins wrote some or most of Z before the play was written; in other words, rather than Z being a novelization of YY could have been a dramatization of Z. Some older scholars thought so, though I haven't noticed any modern proponents of this view.

*

The tourney in Pentapolis

Let's have a look at how Y and Z compare in a shortish stretch of Act II.  I've chosen this section for two reasons: (1) because most people think Wilkins himself wrote this part of the play, and (2) because the action was not taken from older versions of the Apollonius story. In that sense it was "new" material, though the play-authors doubtless recalled many similar things from elsewhere (not least The Merchant of Venice). Some of the knights' "devices", probably all of them, were taken from emblem books (Henry Green's Shakespeare and the Emblem Writers (1869) gives the details; I've mentioned a couple that I've seen myself).

How do you get your hero, shipwrecked, alone and naked, into a position where he meets the king and attracts the favourable attention of the royal family? 

Well, in the Historia (T) a poor fisherman takes pity on Apollonius and gives him half of his own rough robe. Apollonius then goes to the public gymnasium, where nakedness of course is no issue, excels at catching and throwing during a ball-game, and gives the king a damn good waxing. The king invites him to dinner and, understanding he's been shipwrecked, gives him some nice clothes to wear. This plot-line makes perfect sense in a classical world of public baths. 

The story in the Gesta Romanorum (V) is basically the same as the Historia (T), except that the ball-throwing game becomes a game of dart-throwing (or something more like javelins, perhaps). 

Gower (W) essentially gives the same account, but he affects to not really understand the social context, and asks his readers (with a humorously raised eyebrow?) to just accept that in Pentapolis it was the custom to put on some sort of undefined sporting contest between naked youths, judged by the king.

Twine (X) translates V, but he describes the game as tennis (his hero intervening as a sort of unofficial ball-boy).

The authors of Pericles (Y) had to come up with something different. Tennis on stage was simply not going to work! (If there's one thing even more likely to cause trouble than children and animals, it's a ball.)  And nakedness would mean a gymnasium scene prior to the court scenes, aside from any other practical difficulties.  (Naturally they wanted to get the princess Thaisa involved in the action as early as possible.)

The solution they came up with wasn't stunningly original, but in the magical world of Pericles the unoriginal is often strangely effective. 

First they decided, taking a hint from Gower (W), that Pericles should enter a contest judged by the king, but it had to be a clothed one and at the royal court. So they went for a medieval-style tourney and decided it should be in honour of the princess' birthday, and potentially to win her love. In effect they partly conflated the hero's display of sporting excellence with the later episode (in both Gower (W) and Twine (X)) in which three princely suitors submit written accounts of their lineage and assets. (There's still a ghost of this later episode in Y (II.5.1-12), but not in Z.)

Y's approach significantly tightened up the process by which Pericles comes together with Thaisa. Subsequent developments (his tutorship, her headstrong declaration) could then be dealt with fairly swiftly.  

Nevertheless it entailed certain complications. Pericles would need some equipment, so the play-authors invented the episode where his rusty armour is fished up from the sea. The actual contest (variously called triumph, joust, tourney and tilt), being on horseback, would have to take place off-stage; the only bits that would be seen on stage were the initial presentation of the knights (II.2) and the feast afterwards (II.3). 

Here's how it unfolds in Y and Z. [Y quotations are from the quarto, but the line references are from the Folger edition.]


From nakedness to equipment.  

Y:

Pericles is given a gown by the First Fisherman (II.1.82). 

The other fishermen fish up the rusty armour, Pericles recognizes it, and the fishermen let him take it. (II.1.121-160) [I don't think he actually puts the armour on at this point, though line 160 might seem to imply that; presumably he'd need to put on the "Bases" first.]

Pericles still has a jewel on his arm (an arm-bracelet I suppose). He says he'll sell it and buy a good horse. (II.1.161-165)

Pericles laments his lack of "a paire of Bases" ("a kind of skirt worn under armour when riding"). The Second Fisherman offers to make him a pair of bases out of his gown. (II.1.166-170)

Z:

Wilkins' leisurely account of the scene with the fishermen includes the same details as above, and adds yet another fisherman's gift: caparisons for the horse (made from another old gown).  

Comment: It's a solid start from utter nakedness, but of course we're meant to take the point that Pericles is going to be "disgracefully habilited", as Z puts it. (It might occur to you that Pericles is going to need a few other things, such as a lance, but let's not be more pedantic than Wilkins!)

Z begins the scene on the seashore, but soon the fishermen carry Pericles to the chief (First) fisherman's house, and supply him with food as well as a garment. Well, of course someone who's just escaped drowning isn't going to be in any state to walk. And what would you naturally do if you found them? Obviously, chuck a blanket over them and give them something to eat and drink. But in a stage presentation it isn't desirable to have realistic first aid or non-essential changes of scene or meals; so in Y (II.1) the half-dead Pericles indiscernibly recovers until by the end of the scene he's energetically preparing for a joust. The rehandling in Z is an example of what I mentioned earlier, Wilkins exploiting his freedom from logistical constraints, in pursuit of greater naturalism.


At the court of King Simonides

Y:

Enter Simonydes, with attendaunce, and Thaisa.

King. Are the Knights ready to begin the Tryumph?
1.Lord. They are my Leidge, and stay your comming,
To present them selues.
King. Returne them, We are ready, & our daughter heere,
In honour of whose Birth, these Triumphs are,
Sits heere like Beauties child, whom Nature gat,
For men to see; and seeing, woonder at.
Thai. It pleaseth you (my royall Father) to expresse
My Commendations great, whose merit's lesse.
King. It's fit it should be so, for Princes are
A modell which Heauen makes like to it selfe:
As Iewels loose their glory, if neglected,
So Princes their Renownes, if not respected:
T'is now your honour (Daughter) to entertaine
The labour of each Knight, in his deuice.
Thai. Which to preserue mine honour, I'le performe.

[II.2.1-16]

Z:

This is the day, this Symonides Court, where the King himselfe, with the Princesse his daughter, haue placed themselues in a Gallery, to beholde the triumphes of seuerall Princes, who in honour of the Princes birth day, but more in hope to haue her loue, came purposely thither, to approoue their chiualrie. They thus seated, and Prince Pericles, as well as his owne prouiding, and the Fishermens care could furnish him, likewise came to the court. In this maner also 5. seuerall princes (their horses richly caparasoned, but themselues more richly armed, their Pages before them bearing their Deuices on their shields) entred then the Tilting place.

Comment:

In Y the presentation scene (II.2) is necessarily in a different place from the actual tourney. At this point the king and his daughter are apparently down on the main stage, not the upper stage. (The king only talks of withdrawing to the gallery at II.1.61.)

In Z there is no need for split locations, so Wilkins from the outset has the king and his daughter in the gallery above the tilting-place. Another instance of the novel's pursuit of greater naturalism.

Y's characterization of the king Simonides is quite distinctive. From the outset he's intelligent, perceptive, and has a dry, sardonic wit that half conceals his kindliness. In hindsight we're being prepared for his pretended raging at Pericles and Thaisa later in Act II. (This is all newly invented by the play-authors; the king isn't like this in Gower (W) or Twine (X).)

Z of course follows the same storyline, but doesn't include these subtle foretastes of the king's personality. On the other hand it later describes the king's internal debate about marrying his daughter to a possessionless man, and it has much more of his violent threats to Pericles (and Thaisa's equally forceful responses). Z's portrait of king Simonides seems unsubtle compared to Y's. But maybe that's partly to do with the change of genre.  When it comes to character portrayal I rarely feel that prose fiction of this period matches the graphic and intimate realization that we find in the plays. 

Knight #1

Y:

                  The first Knight passes by.
King. Who is the first, that doth preferre himselfe?
Thai. A Knight of Sparta (my renowned father)
And the deuice he beares vpon his Shield,
Is a blacke Ethyope reaching at the Sunne:
The word:     Lux tua vita mihi.
King. He loues you well, that holdes his life of you.

[II.2.17-22]

Z: The first a prince of Macedon, and the Deuice hée bore vpon his shield, was a blacke Ethiope reaching at the Sunne, the word, Lux tua vita mihi: which being by the knights Page deliuered to the Lady, and from her presented to the King her father, hée made playne to her the meaning of each imprese: and for this first, it was, that the Macedonian Prince loued her so well hée helde his life of her.

Comment: The first five knights, unlike Pericles, are splendidly turned out. For each knight except Pericles the action (explicit in Z, and I think implicit in Y) is as follows:

The knight enters with his squire/page, who is carrying the knight's shield. The shield has a device on it, and a related motto (aka "word") in a foreign language. The squire passes (or perhaps simply shows) the shield to the princess, who describes the device and reads out the motto. She then passes (or perhaps the squire shows) the shield to the king, who supplies a translation/interpretation. However it's done, the shield must be returned to the squire when he and his knight exit the stage (the shield will be needed for the tourney).

How the princess knows each knight's place of origin is not apparent. Perhaps we could imagine that it's somehow conveyed by the colours of his shield or style of his costume. By contrast, the princess can't work out where the rusty Pericles comes from, saying only that "Hee seemes to be a Stranger" (Y, II.2.44).

It's immediately clear that there are disparities between Y and Z when it comes to the details of these five knights. In the case of Knight #1, they agree about the device but give a different place of origin (Y: Sparta, Z: Macedon). As far as I can see there's no meaningful connection between the places of origin and the devices, nothing that would lead us to prefer one pairing to another.

The obvious explanation for these discrepancies is that YQ is reconstructed by memory from the lost original (YO). What, after all, could be more forgettable than the very similar details of five evanescent stage presences? And YQ does show some characteristic signs of memorial reconstruction, such as recycling the same line (see II.2.19, II.2.25). There's loads of this in Marlowe's The Massacre at Paris, another play that survives only in a memorial reconstruction.

Nevertheless there are some questions that arise here. It's entirely credible that the reconstructors might forget some of the knights' places of origin, but surprising that they remembered all the devices and mottoes (albeit in a different sequence from Z). And if the reconstructors knew that each knight was supposed to have a place of origin, why didn't they just borrow some other classical place-names to fill the gaps in their memory? A similar argument could be made for the missing translations: since they knew what the motto was, why not just retranslate it?

In general the accounts of the five knights in YQ become more skimpy as we proceed. But to some extent that's also true in Z. (Fun as emblematic devices are, the story is basically standing still.) I can't help feeling that YQ handles the acceleration more artfully than Z does, and it makes me wonder if YQ's lack of some places of origin and some translations might actually be a faithful report of YO (Wilkins then fussily filling in the gaps when he wrote Z). 

Knight #2.

Y

                        The second Knight.
[King.] Who is the second, that presents himselfe?
Tha. A Prince of Macedon (my royall father)
And the deuice he beares vpon his Shield,
Is an Armed Knight, that's conquered by a Lady:
The motto thus in Spanish. Pue per doleera kee per forsa.

[II.2.23-28]

Z: The second, a Prince of Corinth, and the Deuice hée bare vpon his shield was a wreathe of Chiualry, the word, Me pompae prouexet apex, the desire of renowne drew him to this enterprise.

Comment:

Y's place of origin (Macedon) is the same as Z's Knight #1. Y's device is the same as Z's Knight #3, but without the translation. 

In Y (not Z) Thaisa describes the language of the motto as Spanish. Maybe the idea is to underline Thaisa's lack of language skills compared with her father's (preparing us for her desire for a tutor, too). The motto actually seems more like Italian, especially the first word (modern Italian: Più per dolcezza che per forza); though arguably Z's "dolcera" is nearer to Spanish "dulzura" than Italian "dolcezza". (By the way, Gabriel Harvey had used the Italian version of the motto in his marginalia.) The spellings "Pue" and "kee" seem to be phonetic. It might suggest the quarto reconstructors didn't know Italian themselves, but knew what the motto was supposed to sound like. But the phonetic spellings might also come from the lost original, written thus for the benefit of actors learning their lines who didn't know Italian. As for the Y quarto "doleera", if that's correct it looks like a type-setter's error; he obviously didn't know Italian either, so had no reason to question his misreading of copy. [But in the Y quarto reproduced on the Folger site the fourth letter looks to me like it could well be an italic "c". Ink spillage gives it the superficial appearance of an italic "e", but the shape in the middle of the loop doesn't look right. So I wonder if the Y quarto actually says "dolcera", as in Z.]

Z's device is the same as Y's Knight #3, but with a translation. Apparently this device wasn't made up; it was in the 1557 edition of Claude Paradin's Devises heroiques. [Google referred me to the Glasgow University Emblems Site, but it's no longer online.]

Knight #3.

Y

3.Knight.     Kin.  And with the third?
Thai. The third, of Antioch; and his deuice,
A wreath of Chiually: the word: Me Pompey prouexit apex.

[II.2.29-32]

Z: The third of Antioch, and his Deuice was an armed Knight, being conquered by a Lady, the word, Pue per dolcera qui per sforsa: more by lenitie than by force.

Comment:

Y and Z both give Knight #3's place of origin as Antioch; a slightly jarring choice considering Antioch is also one of the key locations in Pericles' story. Also, all the other places of origin are in mainland Greece.

Y's device is the same as Z's Knight #2, but without the translation.

Z's device is the same as Y's Knight #2, but with a translation. 


Knight #4.

Y

4.Knight.     Kin.    What is the fourth.
Thai. A burning Torch that's turned vpside downe;
The word: Qui me alit me extinguit.
Kin. Which shewes that Beautie hath his power & will,
Which can as well enflame, as it can kill.

[II.2.33-37]


Z: The fourth of Sparta, and the Deuice he bare was a mans arme enuironed with a cloude, holding out golde thats by the touchstone tride, the word, Sic spectanda fides, so faith is to be looked into.

Comment:

Y gives no place of origin for Knight #4. Y's device is the same as Z's Knight #5, but Y's translation is elaborated into a rhyming couplet. This device is not made up. I found it in Princelijcke Dewijsen (1563), a Dutch translation of Claude Paradin's Devices heroiques.


Qui me alit me extinguit



Z's place of origin (Sparta) is the same as Y's Knight #1. Z's device is the same as Y's Knight #5, but with a translation. This device is not made up. I found it in Geoffrey Whitney's A Choice of Emblemes (1586), p. 139.



Sic spectanda fides




Knight #5.

Y

5.Knight.   Thai.  The fift, an Hand enuironed with Clouds,
Holding out Gold, that's by the Touch-stone tride:
The motto thus: Sic spectanda fides.

[II.2.38-40]


Z: The fift of Athens, and his Deuice was a flaming Torch turned downeward, the word, Qui me alit me extinguit, that which giues me life giues me death.

Comment:

Y gives no place of origin for Knight #5. Y's device is the same as Z's Knight #4, but without the translation. 

Z's device is the same as Y's Knight #4, but with a briefer and somewhat different translation (alit actually means "nourishes").

Knight #6 (Pericles).

Y

6.Knight.   Kin.   And what's the sixt, and last; the which,
The knight himself with such a graceful courtesie deliuered?
Thai. Hee seemes to be a Stranger: but his Present is
A withered Branch, that's onely greene at top,
The motto:   In hac spe viuo.
Kin. A pretty morrall frõ the deiected state wherein he is,
He hopes by you, his fortunes yet may flourish.
1. Lord. He had need meane better, then his outward shew
Can any way speake in his iust commend:
For by his rustie outside, he appeares,
To haue practis'd more the Whipstocke, then the Launce.
2.Lord. He well may be a Stranger, for he comes
To an honour'd tryumph, strangly furnisht.
3. Lord. And on set purpose let his Armour rust
Vntill this day, to scowre it in the dust.
Kin. Opinion's but a foole, that makes vs scan
The outward habit, by the inward man.
But stay, the Knights are comming,
We will with-draw into the Gallerie.

[II.2.41-61]



Z: The sixt and last was Pericles Prince of Tyre, who hauing neither Page to deliuer his shield, nor shield to deliuer, making his Deuice according to his fortunes, which was a withered Braunch being onely gréene at the top, which prooued the abating of his body, decayed not the noblenesse of his minde, his word, In hac spe viuo, In that hope I liue. Himselfe with a most gracefull curtesie presented it vnto her, which shée as curteously receiued, whilest the Péeres attending on the King forbare not to scoffe, both at his presence, and the present hée brought, being himselfe in a rusty Armour, the Caparison of his horse of plaine country russet, and his owne Bases but the skirtes of a poore Fishermans coate, which the King mildely reproouing them for, hée tolde them, that as Uertue was not to be approoued by wordes, but by actions, so the outward habite was the least table of the inward minde, and counselling them not to condemne ere they had cause to accuse: ... 

Comment:

Pericles looks very different to the other knights. His appearance is "mean". He has no squire, so has to do his own presenting (Y and Z agree). Z says he has no shield, and I think that's the case in Y too, though it isn't so clear. What he presents to the princess is literally a withered branch with some green leaves on top. As he has no use for this vegetation during the tourney, the princess presumably keeps hold of it herself, making a visual statement of her interest in him. 

At II.1.166-170 Y had gone out of its way to describe Pericles' acquisition of home-made "bases" (skirts). On the Chekhovian premise that you don't put a pistol on the mantelpiece unless someone's going to use it, we should assume that these makeshift bases are now a visible part of Pericles' costume, contributing to the mean impression that stirs unfavourable comment.

Regarding the king's comment in Y about withdrawing into the gallery (II.2.61), it's possible that the royal party now ascend to the stage gallery (aka upper stage) and pretend to view the tourney that the theatre audience only hears. But it sounds like too much faffing around; I reckon they just walk off-stage. Whatever, when the tourney's over they'll need to re-enter down on the main stage.

The tourney and the feast

Y:

      Great shoutes, and all cry, the meane Knight.
        Enter the King and Knights from Tilting.
King. Knights, to say you're welcome, were superfluous.
I place vpon the volume of your deedes,
As in a Title page, your worth in armes,
Were more then you expect, or more then's fit,
Since euery worth in shew commends it selfe:
Prepare for mirth, for mirth becomes a Feast.
You are Princes, and my guestes.
Thai. But you my Knight and guest,
To whom this Wreath of victorie I giue,
And crowne you King of this dayes happinesse.

[II.3.1-11]


Z:

They went forward to the triumph, in which noble exercise they came almost all, as short of Pericles perfections, as a body dying, of a life flourishing. To be short, both of Court and Commons, the praises of none were spoken of, but of the meane Knights (for by any other name he was yet vnknowne to any.) But the Triumphes being ended, Pericles as chiefe, (for in this dayes honour hée was Champion) with all the other Princes, were by the Kings Marshall conducted into the Presence, where Symonides and his daughter Thaysa, with a most stately banquet stayed to giue them a thankefull intertainment. At whose entraunce, the Lady first saluting Pericles, gaue him a wreathe of Chiualry, welcommed him as her knight and guest, and crowned him King of that dayes noble enterprise.

Comment:

In Y the tourney takes place off-stage, but it's clear that "the meane Knight" is the star performer, as hyperbolically expressed in Z.

Then the spectators and participants come back onto the main stage for an elaborate feast scene; the king and princess, the five splendidly turned-out knights and the shabby Pericles. Later there'll be a dance of the five knights, and then Pericles dancing with the princess.

YQ's rendering of the opening lines is defective. What's superfluous isn't the king's welcome but banging on about the knights' deeds and their "worth in armes". 

*

The message in the coffin

Let's look at something else, one of the few passages where the play (Y) and Wilkins' novel (Z) really run parallel. 

I've already mentioned another such passage, Antiochus's riddle. The play-authors altered the riddle a bit, compared to what they found in their sources. In the play, Pericles reads it out loud (I.1.66-73); the audience need to hear it. Likewise in Wilkins' novel, he needed to quote the full riddle for the benefit of his readers. His quotation is basically identical to Y's; he must have had access to this part of the play-text.

The passage I'm going to focus on now is another one where a document is best quoted verbatim, regardless of whether you're writing a play or a novel. This time it's the message that Pericles places in Thaisa's coffin before consigning it to the waves. 

This message was already part of the tale in the Historia (T), but I don't need to go back that far. However I'll quote the two versions of the message that the play-authors definitely knew, followed by the message as quoted in the play quarto (YQ) and finally in Wilkins' novel (Z).

Gower (W): 

I, king of Tyr Appollinus,
Do alle maner men to wite,
That hiere and se this lettre write,
That helpeles withoute red
Hier lith a kinges doghter ded:
And who that happeth hir to finde,
For charite tak in his mynde,
And do so that sche be begrave
With this tresor, which he schal have.

(VIII.1122-1130)

Twine (X):

Whosever shal find this chest, I pray him to take ten pieces of gold for his paines, and to bestowe tenne pieces more upon the buriall of the corpes; for it hath left many teares to the parents and fnends, with dolefull heaps of sorow and heavines. But whosoever shall doe otherwise than the present griefe requireth, let him die a shamefull death, and let there be none to bury his body.

Pericles, Prince of Tyre (YQ):

Heere I giue to vnderstand,
If ere this Coffin driues aland;
I King Pericles haue lost
This Queene, worth all our mundaine cost:
Who finds her, giue her burying,
She was the Daughter of a King:
Besides, this Treasure for a fee,
The Gods requit his charitie.

(III.2.79-86)

Wilkins' Painfull Aduentures (Z):


If ere it hap this Chest be driuen
On any shoare, on coast or hauen,
I Pericles the Prince of Tyre,
(That loosing her, lost all desire,)
Intreate you giue her burying,
Since she was daughter to a King:
This golde I giue you as a fee,
The Gods requite your charitie.

Comment:

Gower (W) is evidently the main source for the message in Y and Z. From Gower comes both its form (tetrameter couplets) and its basic structure (1, the writer names himself; 2 , he says the corpse is a king's daughter; 3 he requests the finder to bury her; and 4 he offers  the treasure). 

On the other hand the play-authors didn't use the prose version of Twine (X) directly. His rendering is actually pretty close to T, e.g. ending with a curse on whoever neglects to bury the princess. The play-authors followed Gower in dropping the curse. In fact they reversed Twine's emphasis, asking the gods to reward  (requite) whoever does give the princess a decent burial. In this indirect way, you can say that the play-authors were influenced by Twine. [The idea that the gods punish neglect of a sacred duty is also voiced by Cleon in the next scene (III.3.29-30).]

In Pericles (Y) the placement of the message is different from in the other three I've quoted. They all recount the message at the point where Pericles/Apollonius writes it, on board a ship in a storm (equivalent to III.1 in the play); when you're writing a third-person narrative you usually tell your readers about something when it first enters the story, unless you have a good reason not to. But a play-audience can only learn the contents of a message when someone reads it aloud, and the most natural occasion is when the message is received. So in Y the message is not recited until later, when Cerimon receives it (III.2.79-86). The idea of a message is not even hinted in III.1, where it would just impede the drama. 

Comparing the message in Y and Z, it's clear the two versions aren't independent. Some of the lines, especially in the second half, are virtually the same. Both include the idea of the gods requiting someone who faithfully complies with Pericles' instructions, an idea that wasn't in the sources. Nevertheless there are substantial differences between the two versions. 

We have basically three theories to think about (though they are not necessarily uncombinable).

Theory A. Wilkins in Z substantially reproduces the lost original (YO). The quarto reconstructors (YQ) remembered the message as best they could, and patched up the rest. 

Theory B. The reverse of Theory A. YQ substantially reproduces YO. When Wilkins wrote Z he didn't have access to the text of this part of the play. He remembered the message as best he could, and patched up the rest.

Theory C. YQ substantially reproduces YO. Wilkins had access to it too, but when he wrote Z he decided for some reason or other to change it. 

I'm dismissing Theory C at once. There's nothing about the hypothetical "changes" that seems to gain any end. I think if Wilkins had the original to hand he copied it exactly, just as he did with Antiochus's riddle in Act I Scene 1. 

So it comes down to a straight fight between the version in YQ and the version in Z. Which one looks most like original text, reconstructed by the other?

I think the evidence favours YQ, especially in the second half of the message where the two versions are closest. YQ is distinctly tauter, because it articulates the relationship between Pericles' "fee" and the gods' blessing, whereas Z merely lists one and then the other. Z remembers the individual elements all right, but not the drift of the thought. It's easy to see how Z could arise as a memorial reconstruction of what we find in YQ, but hard to see how a memorial reconstruction of what we find in Z would end up acquiring the extra tautness of YQ.

So I'm going for Theory B: YQ gives a substantially accurate rendering of YO. Wilkins knew the passage well but he didn't, in this instance, have access to text that he could just copy. When he wrote Z he had to resort to a bit of memorial reconstruction. 

[As it happens I also think that's the best explanation for the differences between Y and Z in the third parallel passage, the epitaph on the monument to Marina in Tarsus (IV.4.35-44).]



*

I suppose if anyone has read this far they might be expecting me to venture an opinion on the authorship of Pericles, but I'm not going to give a straight answer. 

What I will say is that it's extremely difficult to give a totally accurate account of a story that you didn't write yourself. (If you read plot summaries on Wikipedia, or if you've tried to write similar things yourself, you'll know what I mean.) If George Wilkins wasn't the author of the first two acts of Pericles (Y), I'd have expected that sooner or later Z would betray it by a casual misinterpretation of some detail. The trouble is, of course, that Z isn't a simple account of Y. When Wilkins wrote Z he often changed the details, but it seems to me that the changes I've examined are manifestly or at least credibly purposeful. I haven't found a really clear-cut instance of him just slipping up. (The nearest thing might be Z's somewhat different idea of the character of King Simonides.) 

He also knew the rest of the play very well, but he didn't have a full text to hand, whereas he did have a text of e.g. Antiochus's riddle in I.1. Obviously you could link that observation to his supposed authorship of Acts I-II but not Acts III-V. 

If you want to take it further, one thing you'll certainly need to do is read Wilkins' other plays. (Something I fancy I'll never get round to.)

Let me know how you get on!

George Wilkins, William Rowley and John Day, The Travels of the Three English Brothers (1607):

https://archive.org/details/travailesofthree00dayj/page/n23/mode/1up

This play was performed by the Queen Anne's Men, aka the Queen's Men.

George Wilkins, The Miseries of Enforced Marriage (1607):

https://extra.shu.ac.uk/emls/iemls/renplays/miseries.htm

This play was performed by His Majesty's Servants, aka the King's Men -- i.e. Shakespeare's company, the same company that performed Pericles with such success. 

*


These notes on Shakespeare: full list



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