Citat:
The Young Ones
From a review of Medieval Children by Nicholas Orme
Sex, we are told, began in the 1960s. Childhood, on the other hand, began in the seventeenth century – or so the social historians of the 1960s and 1970s would have us believe. According to them, ‘in medieval society the idea of childhood did not exist’; children were simply regarded as ‘small and inadequate adults’, who dressed, worked and lived like their elders. As many of them died young and most were sent away from home at a very early age to serve in other households, parents could not afford to get too close to their offspring and treated them with a detachment and lack of sympathy that would be considered reprehensible today. The logical conclusion to be drawn from this is that the concept of childhood as something distinct and different from adulthood is a modern invention. In his informative and entertaining study, Nicholas Orme challenges this assumption and convincingly argues
that it is not merely flawed but untenable. Unlike his predecessors in the field, who principally relied on iconographical material, Orme has cast his net wide and drawn on a remarkable variety of medieval sources. His meticulous research allows an immensely detailed examination of every aspect of childhood, beginning in the womb and ending with the progression to adulthood. The result is a book that is nominally about children but actually covers every aspect of medieval life, from the impact of Church and State decrees down to the minutiae of the highly complex medieval alphabet. As Orme demonstrates, childhood was recognised as a distinct state in both religious and secular law from about 1200. Before puberty, children were exempted from making confession, receiving Communion, paying tithes and church dues and were deemed unable to get married fully and permanently. Child weddings were frowned upon and the Church refused to consider such marriages as binding until the couple reached puberty and could give their own informed consent. Two children from Cheshire who were married in 1552 aged two and three (the groom being so young he had to be carried in his uncle’s arms and have his vows said on his behalf) refused to ratify their marriage when they came of age and it therefore had to be annulled. In fact, such instances of very young children being treated as if they were adults were rare and usually confined to the rich, who had properties and dynasties to
protect. As Orme ably points out, even in the medieval period children did not emerge from their parents’ shadow until their twenties; apprentices came out of service at that age, clerks could only be made priests at twentyfour and those of noble birth could not inherit until twentyone. Because they lacked financial independence, it was impractical for them to marry before they attained majority, and most did not. Children were provided with toys: archaeological examples of spinning tops survive from the eleventh century, and mass-produced knights on horseback (made from an alloy of lead and tin) from the reign of Edward I. They had their own songs, games and riddles, depicted in manuscript illuminations and preserved in school notebooks. Then, as now, their youthful exuberance irritated their elders. The dean and chapter of Exeter Cathedral complained bitterly in 1448 about the ‘young persons’ who used their cloister for playing with ‘the top, queck, penny prick, and most at tennis, by which the walls of the said cloister have been defouled and the glass windows all burst asunder’. It is this wealth of detail and lively anecdote that makes Medieval Children so rewarding and stimulating. In less sure hands, it might have been overwhelming, but Orme’s prose is clear and concise and he never loses sight of the themes that underpin his book. Special credit should also be given to his publishers, Yale University Press, who have complemented his text with an equally rich collection of illustrations. This book is a treasure trove, full of gems, even for the non-medievalist.
Citat:
36. What are we told about Orme’s book?
A It is impressive but tries to cover too wide an area.
B Its focus on the Middle Ages is of limited interest to modern readers.
C It is based on research that suffers from a certain lack of precision.
D Its title hardly does justice to the subject matter actually dealt with.
Jag svarade alternativ C, eftersom recensören skriver:
. "It is this wealth of detail and lively anecdote that makes Medieval Children so rewarding and stimulating. In less sure hands, it might have been overwhelming, but Orme’s prose is clear and concise and he never loses sight of the themes that underpin his book." Alltså, recensören antyder i detta stycke att författaren hanterar ämnet på ett bra sätt.
Men rätt svarsalternativ är D. Är det för att recensören skriver:
"This book is a treasure trove, full of gems, even for the non-medievalist."
Hur skall man göra en korrekt avvägning mellan alternativen?
Meningen som motiverar alternativ C är ju betydlig längre än meningen som alternativ D baseras på.
