Happy Friday! Today’s post is an early one because I’m taking a weekend road trip to Monterey and Santa Barbara, partially to support my partner as he plays in the USGA Mid-Am qualifier, but mostly to celebrate the book release. I’m only spending a few more weeks in California, and we’re trying to make every day count! Remember that you can use code Pub_OEE to save 20% off the cost of Old English Ecotheology when you order directly from Amsterdam University Press by October 15th.

Today’s post is an act of gratitude: I’m sharing some of the academic resources that inspired me while I was writing Old English Ecotheology. Some of these texts are quoted heavily in the book; others served as an inspiration for structure and style.

• Megan Cavell, “The Riddle Ages”
  • hands-down the best online resource for study of the Exeter riddle collection
• James H. Cone, “Whose Earth is it Anyway?” Crosscurrents 50 (2000): 36-46.
  • an essential ecotheological text by a leading voice in black liberation theology, which informs my ecotheology.
• Corrine Dale, The Natural World in the Exeter Book Riddles. D.S. Brewer, 2017.
  • an incredible monograph on the Exeter riddle collection, to which my third chapter is deeply indebted.
• Heide Estes, Anglo-Saxon Literary Landscapes: Ecotheory and the Environmental Imagination. Amsterdam UP, 2017.
  • a key example of medieval ecocriticism
• Norman Habel & the Earth Bible Team, Readings from the Perspective of Earth. Sheffield UP, 2000.
  • a useful distillation of modern Christian ecocriticism and one of the foundations of the first chapter
• Jennifer Neville, Representations of the Natural World in Old English Poetry. Cambridge UP, 1999.
  • another essential example of medieval ecocriticism, and a useful conversation partner
• Kari Nixon, Kept from All Contagion. SUNY Press, 2021.
  • my first monograph fairy-godmother
• Mary Rambaran-Olm, “Misnaming the Medieval: Rejecting ‘Anglo-Saxon’ Studies.” History Workshop, November 4, 2019.
  • an essential voice in early Medieval English studies, and the model for my choice not to use the term A-S in the book
• Ilse Schweitzer VanDonkelaar. “Old English Ecologies: Environmental Readings of Anglo-Saxon Texts and Culture.” Ph.D. diss., Western Michigan University, 2013.
  • one of two brilliant dissertations that shaped my thinking for this book, written by the editor who first acquired it!
• Kellyanne Falkenberg Wolfe, “Creation, Crisis, and Comedy: an Ecocritical Reading of the Eden Story, Joel, and Jonah.” Ph.D. diss., Union Theological Seminary, 2011.
  • essential to my understanding of the Eden story (which hopefully will be next project!)

My goal is for Old English Ecotheology to be part one entry in an ongoing conversation about ecotheology in medieval literature; I’m grateful to each of the scholars above for bringing me into the conversation.

Happy Thursday! Today is a very exciting day because I just got a notification that my author copies of Old English Ecotheology: the Exeter Book have been shipped! If you’re interested in buying your own copy, you can save 20% when you order directly from Amsterdam University Press and use code Pub_OEE.

The final chapter of my book–Mutual Custodianship in the Landscapes of Guðlac A–is the only one that focuses on a single (very long) poem, the eponymous verse saints’ life named in the title. This chapter was born in large part out of my frustration with the lack of environmental action by modern American Christian leadership. As I watched churches respond to environmental crises across the nation I grew increasingly wary of the rhetoric of “stewardship.” Weather events like Hurricane Harvey remind us that we are not in control of the other-than-human; how, then, can we presume to steward “resources” like the land on which our churches are built?

As always, Old English poetry provided the answer. Guðlac A offers a compelling alternative to the concept of stewardship, and remains one of my favorite poems in the Exeter Book. Check out the abstract below!

Abstract

Guðlac A details the eponymous saint’s relationships with the holy landscape surrounding his hermitage and its other-than-human inhabitants. The poem suggests that the work of Guðlac’s sainthood is sustained devotion to the Earth community. As an exemplum of Old English ecotheological living, Guðlac’s legend offers a challenge to the concept of environmental “stewardship” of the Earth community in favor of a model of mutual custodianship which calls for sustained and deliberate devotion to the created world for its own sake and as a manifestation of the Creator’s love and glory. It also suggests that sustained engagement with the natural world even in the face of environmental crisis or collapse will be rewarded, in this life or the next.

Welcome back! It’s Wednesday, which means Old English Ecotheology: the Exeter Book is five days away! Don’t forget that my amazing publishers at AUP have offered 20% of the cost off the book through October 16th, 2021: use code Pub_OEE. Later this week, I’ll be sharing information on how to encourage your librarian to order the book for your institution.

As the blog title suggests, today I’m sharing a sneak peak of chapter four: Trauma and Apocalypse in the Eco-elegies. This is a really special chapter, because it is in many ways responsible for the existence of the book as a whole. In 2018, I gave a paper at the Kalamazoo ICMS on “Depression in/and Old English Poetry.” My work in that paper on emotional trauma in the poem “The Wanderer” planted the seed of the idea that became this chapter. After the panel, I was introduced to Ilse Schweitzer VanDonkelaar, the editor who eventually acquired Old English Ecotheology for Amsterdam University Press. (More on Ilse, and the many folks who have helped bring this book to press, on Monday!)

I mentioned yesterday that I was nervous to write about the Exeter riddle collection because so much good work has already been done. As you may imagine, I felt a similar way about the elegies, which are probably the most well-known of the Exeter book poems. My goal in this chapter is not to replace existing readings of the elegies, but to demonstrate the ways in which readings attendant to the role of the other-than-human can expand our understanding of these texts.

Abstract

The Wanderer and The Ruin are productively read as eco-elegies: explorations of changing relationships within the Earth community. The Wanderer offers its audience an exemplary portrait of natural depression, a human pattern of exile, emotional trauma, and acceptance which relies on identification with the Earth community as a way of healing. The poem affirms the idea that other-than-human elements of Earth community can actively improve the mental state of their human neighbors and reconcile apocalyptic loss. The Ruin contrasts this apocalyptic imagery with an imagined future where the Earth community responds to, but ultimately outlasts, the destruction of human societies. These eco-elegies encourage audiences to consider the long view of Christian history, pacifying anxieties about human relationships with other-than-human.

Welcome back! It’s hard to believe that Old English Ecotheology is less than one week away! There have been times over the last few years where I doubted whether this project would come to fruition, so to be less than a week away is truly surreal.

Today, I’m excited to share a preview of my third chapter: Identity, Affirmation, and Resistance in the Exeter Riddle Collection. When I proposed this book, this was the chapter I was most nervous to write, partially because the Exeter riddles are such a huge collection, and partially because so much good work has already been done. (More on that on Friday!) In the end, this is one of my favorite chapters of the book: individually and as a group, the seven riddles I explore demonstrate the complexity of early Medieval English responses to the other-than-human beings. I’m really proud of my addition to the scholarship on this collection, and I can’t wait for you to read it. Check out the abstract below!

Abstract

The Exeter riddle collection imagines voices for the Earth community. The bird riddles (6 and 7) exploit similarities between human and avian behaviors to affirm the intrinsic worth of the Earth community even when it makes humans uncomfortable. The horn riddles (12 and 76) give voice to other-than-human beings celebrating their participation in heroic culture: these riddles imagine that animal-objects find pleasure and purpose in their “work”, despite removal from their natural state. However, the wood-weapon riddles (3, 51, and 71) reveal an awareness that conscription into human service is not always in the best interest of the other-than-human. These thematic clusters suggest an interest in the inherent worth, active voice, and purpose of the non-human natural world.

Happy Monday, everyone! Old English Ecotheology: the Exeter Book will be released one week from today! I’m so excited to share a discount code (valid through 10/16/21) courtesy of my publishers at Amsterdam University Press. Use code Pub_OEE to save 20% when you order through AUP.

After a much-needed break last weekend, I’m back on the blogging train. Today through Thursday, I’ll share sneak peaks of each of the primary chapters of my book; on Friday, I’ll be lifting up some of the scholarship that inspired me while writing this book.

As I mentioned on Friday, the first chapter of my book argues for the existence of a distinctly Old English ecotheology, exemplified by the work of Ælfric and Wulfstan. The subsequent four chapters of my book explore the influence of that ecotheology on the poetry of the Exeter Book. I’ve chosen to organize these four chapters according to genre, and the first chapter centers on two of the manuscript’s wisdom poems: Maxims I and The Order of the World.

My initial fascination with these two poems was partially a response to all of the scholarship dismissing them as incomprehensible, insignificant, or otherwise bad. To me, they represent the best of Old English poetry: they are deceptively simple, yet disarmingly foreign. Like the Exeter riddle collection (about which more tomorrow!) these wisdom poems offer a compelling glimpse into “what is known” in early medieval England. For my purposes, they suggest an understanding of the interconnectedness of life on Earth.

Abstract

Active engagement with the mysteries of creation was an important goal of Old English wisdom poetry; these poems require audience understanding of the interconnectedness of the Earth community. Exploring kinship connections between human and other-than-human beings, they anticipate modern ideas about the importance of exchange within ecosystems. The Order of the World encourages active engagement with the other-than-human as a means of praising the Creator. Maxims I, in turn, serves as an example of one such poetic attempt, imagining a world in which non-human forces act in familiar, rather than entirely threatening, ways. The Order of the World and Maxims I suggests that early medieval English thinkers understood and affirmed the interconnectedness of the Earth community.

Happy Friday! Today is day five of my two-week countdown to the publication of Old English Ecotheology, and to celebrate the weekend I’m sharing a discount code!!

Use the discount code Pub_OEE to save 20% on Old English Ecotheology through October 16th!

I’m so excited to share a sneak peak of the first chapter today. If you’ve read the table of contents (available here along with the introduction to the book!) you may have noticed that the first chapter has a familiar name: Old English Ecotheology. The first chapter sets the foundation for the rest of the book by arguing for the existence of–you guessed it–a uniquely Old English style of ecotheology.

The stars of this chapter are Wulfstan and Ælfric: as I suggested on Wednesday, their combined homilies offer a unique glance into 11th century English theology. This first chapter brings them into conversation with a modern collective of ecotheologians known as the Earth Bible Team, whose “ecojustice principles” offer a useful distillation of Anglophone Christian ecotheology in the 21st century.

Abstract

The work of Ælfric and Wulfstan, produced in the shadow of the first millennium, in many ways anticipates the modern field of ecotheology, born in the years preceding the second. Like their modern counterparts, Ælfric and Wulfstan affirmed the interconnectedness of human and other-than-human beings as members of an increasingly fragile Earth community. They affirmed the intrinsic worth of the other-than-human, and the ability of the Earth community to cry against injustice and resist human domination. Crucially, Ælfric and Wulfstan also explicitly condemn humanity’s failure to be faithful custodians of creation. Reading the medieval texts against the modern demonstrates the existence of an Old English ecotheology which anticipates many of the questions raised by the current climate crisis.

I was recently told that musical theater was cheugy, so today’s post will not be about my idea for a Hamilton-style musical about Ælfric and Wulfstan. Instead, I wanted to share some of the playlists I listened to while writing, revising, and copy-editing Old English Ecotheology. The first was created by an anonymous genius at Spotify; the second two are mine and are designed to be shuffled.

Best playlist for drafting

I spent a lot of time drafting Old English Ecotheology at a makeshift standing desk (my Riverside Chaucer stacked on an encyclopedia on my kitchen counter) dancing to this playlist. Lots of Bad Bunny and J Balvin, which is an automatic A in my book. Drafting + dancing is another unbeatable combo.

Best playlist for proofreading

I’m not ashamed to admit that this playlist was born of severe procrastination and too much coffee. YES there are some obvious choices, YES some of them aren’t actually gender bent, YES I listened to it every day while copyediting.

Best playlist for frantically writing down ideas on the ski lift

I mentioned the other day that a lot of my best ideas for Old English Ecotheology came on the ski lift–the truth is this is probably because I spent a lot of time skiing over the last two years. When I’m not brainstorming on the lift, I love listening to music while I ski. Like all good ski playlists, this one is pretty heavy on Megan Thee Stallion.

Welcome to day three of the promotional extravaganza! Today’s post will introduce you to the three primary medieval voices that inform Old English Ecotheology: Wulfstan, archbishop of York (?-1023), Ælfric of Eynsham (c. 955-1010, and the Exeter Book itself.

The introduction to my book offers an in-depth explanation of my reliance on Wulfstan and Ælfric as representatives of early medieval English theology; if you want a preview, you can check that out here. For now, I wanted to share a bit about why I find these two thinkers so fascinating. Like many medievalists, I was first introduced to Wulfstan through his fire-and-brimstone homily Sermo Lupi ad Anglos. During the course of my research for this book, I was delighted to learn that Sermo Lupi was among his more subdued homilies. Sometimes, the frenzy of Wulfstan’s sermons alleviated my own anxiety; sometimes, he exacerbated it. On those occasions, I could reliably depend on Ælfric to calm me down: in contrast to Wulfstan’s relentless pace, Ælfric’s homilies felt more contemplative, returning to pause on certain key ideas. Together, these two voices fleshed out my understanding of the experience of Christian living in early medieval England. As I suggest in my introduction,

the theology of Ælfric and Wulfstan could have reached all ranges of early medieval English society, from laypeople attending church on Sunday to meetings of the Witan in London. Indeed, it is precisely their broad audience and didactic intent that makes this body of work such a useful representation of English theology…these homilies reveal the folk-traditions and social practices the Church sought to reform, the orthodoxy it sought to institute, and the ways in which these ideologies intermingled.

The most important “voice” in Old English Ecotheology is, of course, the Exeter Book. On Monday, I shared a bit about how my interest in this incredible manuscript began during my final year of college. I certainly didn’t expect to spend a decade writing about a single manuscript, but the Exeter Book is an incredibly inviting space to explore Old English poetry. A thousand years ago, when the manuscript was added to the library at Exeter Cathedral, it was described as a mycel Englisc boc be gehwilcum þingum on leoðwisum geworht: “a great English book about various things written in verse.” This early medieval description perfectly summarizes the value of the book as a microcosm of Old English poetry. As I argue in the introduction, the Exeter Book

is mycel (“great”) not only in the number of texts it contains, but also in the wide variety of generic forms and thematic concerns those texts engage, from devotional verse and hagiography to enigmatic wisdom poetry, elegies, and riddles.

As my subtitle suggests, Old English Ecotheology focuses primarily on the poetry of the Exeter Book: however, my hope is that the readings I propose in this book may usefully be applied to other early medieval texts.

One of the central arguments of Old English Ecotheology is that the poetry of the Exeter Book reflects the material and environmental conditions of the culture that produced it. I like to think that Old English Ecotheology is similarly reflective of the landscapes and environmental forces I encountered while writing the book. For day two of my fourteen-day promotional extravaganza, I’m sharing some photos of spaces that inspired me while writing and revising this project.

As I compiled the index entry for “sea,” I thought about the all the coasts I’ve been lucky enough to visit since beginning this book. [R-L: Nassau, Bahamas, 5/6/21; Shelter Island, New York, 6/5/18; Seaside, Oregon, 2/1/21]

A central theme of this book is the inescapable interconnectedness of “human” and “natural” realms of activity. [R-L: New York City in the snow, 10/17/19; snowmelt floods the Spokane river, 4/28/21; the ruins at Chichen Itza, 3/9/18]

The best ideas come when you’re least expecting them: for me, that often means while I’m skiing, kayaking, or hiking. [Clockwise from left: Chewelah Mountain, Washington, 1/11/20; Town Lake, Austin, Texas, 7/11/17; Kettle Falls, Washington, 6/1/19]