<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8" standalone="yes"?>
<!DOCTYPE article  PUBLIC "-//NLM//DTD JATS (Z39.96) Journal Archiving and Interchange DTD v1.1 20151215//EN" "https://jats.nlm.nih.gov/archiving/1.1/JATS-archivearticle1.dtd">
<article dtd-version="1.1" article-type="book-review" xmlns:xlink="http://www.w3.org/1999/xlink">
    <front>
        <journal-meta>
            <journal-id>TMR</journal-id>
            <journal-title-group>
                <journal-title>The Medieval Review</journal-title>
            </journal-title-group>
            <issn pub-type="epub">1096-746X</issn>
            <publisher>
                <publisher-name>Indiana University</publisher-name>
            </publisher>
        </journal-meta>
        <article-meta>
            <article-id pub-id-type="publisher-id">23.10.01</article-id>
            <title-group>
                <article-title>23.10.01, Goodison, Introducing the Medieval Swan</article-title>
            </title-group>
            <contrib-group>
                <contrib contrib-type="author">
                    <name>
                        <surname>Randy P. Schiff</surname>
                        <given-names/>
                    </name>
                    <aff>University at Buffalo, SUNY</aff>
                    <address>
                        <email>rpschiff@buffalo.edu</email>
                    </address>
                </contrib>
            </contrib-group>
            <pub-date publication-format="epub" date-type="pub" iso-8601-date="2022">
                <year>2023</year>
            </pub-date>
            <product product-type="book">
                <person-group>
                    <name>
                        <surname>Goodison, Natalie Jayne</surname>
                        <given-names/>
                    </name>
                </person-group>
                <source>Introducing the Medieval Swan</source>
                <series>Medieval Animals</series>
                <year iso-8601-date="2022">2022</year>
                <publisher-loc>Cardiff, UK</publisher-loc>
                <publisher-name>University of Wales Press</publisher-name>
                <page-range>Pp. xiv, 197</page-range>
                <price>£11.99 (paperback)</price>
                <isbn>978-1-78683-839-1 (paperback)</isbn>
            </product>
            <permissions>
                <copyright-statement>Copyright 2023 Trustees of Indiana University. Indiana University provides the information contained in this file for non-commercial, personal, or research use only. All other use, including but not limited to commercial or scholarly reproductions, redistribution, publication or transmission, whether by electronic means or otherwise, without prior written permission of the copyright holder is strictly prohibited.</copyright-statement>
            </permissions>
        </article-meta>
    </front>
    <body>
        <p>The University of Wales Press’s <italic>Medieval Animals</italic> series strives to
            showcase the past significance of medieval creatures, exploring the lives, legends, and
            practices associated with pre-modern animals. With its fine organization, full
            bibliography, and fluid prose, Natalie Jayne Goodison’s <italic>Introducing the Medieval
                Swan</italic> is an excellent contribution to this series. Lushly illustrated and
            teeming with fascinating facts and stories, Goodison’s volume superbly introduces the
            medieval swan.</p>
        
        <p>In the introduction, Goodison succinctly captures the powerful allure of the medieval
            swan by asking why the swan is perceived as “royal” and “regal,” and why “swansong” (7)
            is associated with aestheticized death. As someone who has been centrally focused on
            medieval swans for some time, I share Goodison’s sense of both the importance and the
            “quiet grandeur” of the subject (7), and I think that medieval studies is very well
            served by Goodison’s “academic introduction” (8) to the medieval swan. Goodison’s
            decisions to avoid being “comprehensive” and to stress “primary source material” (8)
            help ensure the strength of this volume, which satisfyingly juxtaposes surveys of the
            historical and cultural practices associated with medieval swans with extensive inquiry
            into the ways that “medieval literature” made “courtly” use of this “transformative” (8)
            bird.</p>
        
        <p>The opening chapter organizes its illuminating study of medieval understandings of swans
            by showing how medieval beliefs about the “swan’s song” migrated from “natural history”
            into “art and culture” (17). Providing an excellent bibliography, Goodison shows how
            such influential medieval understandings of the swan as that disseminated by Isidore of
            Seville’s <italic>Etymologies</italic> depended both on natural observation and
            “classical sources” (19). Investigating the medieval belief that swans are prone to
            singing (and particularly so before their death), Goodison discusses key examples of
            “funereal” (21) swan song in Plato, Aeschylus, Aesop, and Ovid. Goodison also
            demonstrates the crucial connection between swan-song and poetry by pointing to
            classical understandings of Homer and Virgil under the rubric of “swan-as-poet” (21). </p>
        
        <p>After noting that Pliny expressed skepticism of “the truth of swan song” (22), Goodison
            transitions seamlessly into a survey of the swan within “medieval natural history” (23).
            Introducing readers to the conflation of natural science and morality in bestiaries,
            Goodison shows that Hugh of Fouilloy’s highly influential<italic>Aviarium
            </italic> combines “natural history” with the “moralising” belief that swan’s combining
            an outwardly white appearance with “black flesh” (24) makes it the symbol of a
            “hypocrite” (25). Goodison next discusses how what we could today recognize as careful
            natural history emerges with the “Aristotelian” shift towards focus on the “observation
            of organisms in their natural habitats” (30). Analyzing Albertus Magnus’s close
            “observation” (32) of swans in their natural habitats, Goodison convincingly shows how
            the popularity of moralizing bestiaries did not prevent advances in medieval
            biology.</p>
        
        <p>Goodison closes the first chapter with an extended discussion of what might seem a
            paradox, namely, the “persistent” medieval reference to the “swan’s song,” even as the
            most likely swan medieval Europeans would see would be the “Mute Swan” (34), named for
            their near silence. After discussing the long-standing interpretation in classical and
            medieval Europe of Mute Swans’ “distinctive wing-beats” as music (36), Goodison notes
            that classical and medieval swan song may also be due to the presence of the “vociferous
            musicality” of Whooper Swans and Bewick’s Swans (39). </p>
        
        <p>Goodison’s second chapter explores the fascinating question of why medieval swans are
            frequently associated with “transformation” (47). Beginning with “classical accounts”
            (47), Goodison provides a stimulating survey of the importance--and edginess--of Leda’s
            story. Dwelling on the “extremely popular” status of the legend of Leda’s rape by Zeus
            in the form of a swan in both “classical art” and in “the Renaissance,” Goodison notes
            that the imagined incident could range from a “celebration of bestiality” to a merely
            “erotic” depiction that (troublingly) deprioritizes the “rape” elements in favor of the
            “transgressive, the deviant, and the pornographic” (48). Goodison’s discussion of
            medieval efforts to “draw spiritual meaning” (48) from this story is especially
            intriguing, particularly with the “shocking” understanding in the <italic>Ovide
                Moralisé</italic> of the rapist god’s action as figuring “Christ’s transformation
            into mortal flesh” (49).</p>
        
        <p>After returning to the classical era to discuss the multiple men “all named Cycnus” (50)
            who, most famously in Ovid’s <italic>Metamorphoses</italic>, are transformed into swans,
            Goodison uses William Caxton’s translation of the moment when Achilles fails to find a
            “sowle” while stripping Cycnus’s corpse to show that “birds” were sometimes “symbols of
            human souls in medieval literature” (52). Goodison then provides an absorbing survey of
            “swan-maidens” (52). Beginning with the “earliest medieval reference” to these figures
            in the Old Norse <italic>Völundarkviδa</italic>, Goodison shows that these swan-maidens
            differ from Stith Thompson’s influential view in his “folklore index” (53) that these
            women lack agency and are merely subject to men who seize their shape-shifting
            clothes)--for these earliest swan-maidens leave of their own accord. Goodison surveys a
            number of stories (including <italic>Graelent</italic> and <italic>Guingamor</italic>)
            that the medievalist Henry William Schofield linked with Thompson’s swan-maiden model,
            and in each case Goodison shows that these stories, either due to agentive women or
            differing birds, do not support “swan-maiden typologies” (56).</p>
        
        <p>Goodison next explores the more significant medieval motif of the “swan children,”
            beginning with brief discussion of the Old Irish <italic>Fate of the Children of Lir
            </italic> (59). Goodison spends considerably more time on the relationship of the swan
            children story--that is, of multiple children born wearing chains whose removal
            transforms them into swans, and who are saved from the death planned for them by their
            evil grandmother by a hermit who raises them--with stories of the Swan Knight. Providing
            an excellent summary of the story’s earliest version in Johannis de Alta Silva’s
                <italic>Dolopathos</italic>, Goodison relates how the story of the part-swan
            “septuplets” (61) was folded into the Old French Crusade Cycle in two versions (the
                <italic>Elioxe</italic> and <italic>Beatrix</italic> versions, named after the
            swan-children’s mother in each iteration). While Goodison in my view does not devote
            enough attention to <italic>Le Chevalier au Cygne</italic>--which follows the two
            versions of <italic>La Naissance du Chevalier du Cygne </italic> in the Old French
            Crusade Cycle, and which helps strengthen Goodison’s case that the cycle’s poets sought
            to emphasize “knightly prowess” (63), Goodison does a fine job describing the Middle
            English <italic>Chevelere Assigne</italic>, in which the Crusade Cycle’s Elias becomes
            “Enyas” (63). After describing the happy ending provided for the one swan child doomed
            to remain a swan in <italic>La Fin d’Elias</italic> (63), Goodison surveys the medieval
            German Swan Knight tradition. Beginning with Wolfram von Eschenbach’s
                <italic>Parzival</italic>, Goodison observes that Wolfram “fuses” two key medieval
            “traditions,” as the “Swan Knight becomes Arthurian” (66). Goodison provides a fine
            reading of the action of <italic>Lohengrin</italic>, but the discussion of the Swan
            Knight’s “interdict” against asking about his “origin” (68) in the German poem would
            have resonated more fully had it been related to the motif occurring in <italic>Le
                Chevalier au Cygne</italic>.</p>
        
        <p>Continuing to study the influence of the massive, thirteenth-century Old French Crusade
            Cycle, Goodison’s third chapter provides excellent analysis of the political use made of
            the Swan Knight legend in medieval Europe. Goodison opens this important chapter by
            showing how the swan became a “symbol of courtliness” (73), moving from evidence for
            King Edgar’s 966 management of swans to a telling, if “inaccurate” legend of Richard I’s
            introduction of swans into England as reinforcing swans’ “royal” connections (73). After
            recounting literary legends of a singular swan’s attachment to Bishop Hugh of Lincoln
            (74), Goodison turns to the key figure associated with the medieval swan, Godfrey of
            Bouillon. Offering a fine survey of medieval understandings of Godfrey as a grandson of
            the Swan Knight, Goodison demonstrates how swans thus became key to the story of “one of
            the great medieval heroes” (77). </p>
        
        <p>Goodison’s chapter is especially strong in showing how many noble European families
            sought to associate their bloodlines with the legendary Swan Knight. Beginning with the
            “houses of Brabant, Cleves, and Brandenburg” (78), Goodison produces a fascinating,
            richly illustrated study of how various medieval nobles aggrandized themselves by
            cultivating connections to the swan-knight and swan-children myths. Goodison’s
            discussion of German and Dutch would-be swan-knight descendants shows how the
            cultivation of such family associations went beyond mere storytelling, to include social
            orders, heraldic symbols, and architectural motifs. Goodison’s study of French
            aristocrats’ efforts to link their ancestry with the Swan Knight is especially
            interesting in showing how swans became associated with “courtly love” (84), as can be
            seen with special clarity in the manuscripts patronized by John, Duke of Berry.</p>
        
        <p>Goodison’s exploration of the cultivation of “Swan Knight Ancestry” is particularly
            intriguing as regards “English politics” (85). Discussing the “Swan Knight lineage” of
            King Stephen and Empress Matilda in <italic>The Red Book of the Exchequer</italic> held
            in Faversham Abbey (85), Goodison proceeds to show the considerable influence of swan
            imagery in Edward I’s regime, particularly in the 1306 Feast of the Swan that literally
            linked knights and swans (86). Goodison provides a rich analysis of the “swan-ancestry”
            (88) imagery linked with the Bohun family, as well as by Edward III and his son Edward
            the Black Prince. </p>
       
        <p>Goodison’s study of the clash between the royally-linked swan symbol with Richard II’s
            influential but doomed effort to develop an alternate symbol of royalty, is absolutely
            fascinating. After showing how swans were associated with two of Richard II’s key
            rivals, Thomas of Woodstock and Henry Bolingbroke (the future Henry IV, who would usurp
            the English throne in 1399), Goodison deftly uses an explanation of the politics of
            medieval badges in fourteenth-century England to explain Richard’s “White Hart” as a
            “foil” to the “White Bohun Swan” (94) used as a livery symbol by his competitors. After
            the defeat of the White Hart faction by the swan-wearing Henry, Goodison shows, the swan
            became a truly Lancastrian symbol, borne both by Henry IV and by his popular and
            successful son, Henry V (96). </p>
        
        <p>Despite the glaring error of describing Margaret of Anjou, Henry VI’s wife, as his mother
            (96), Goodison proceeds to present a compelling case for seeing the swan’s role in Henry
            VI’s troubled era as a marker of transition beyond the chaos of the Wars of the Roses.
            After describing the intense association of swans with the houses of Warwick and
            Buckingham, whose families each provided major players in England’s fifteenth-century
            civil war, Goodison notes that the fact that Henry VII did not cultivate the swan as a
            “symbol” of the “house of Tudor” (99) marks a key transition period both in medieval
            politics and swan management.</p>
        
        <p>Goodison’s excellent fourth chapter focuses on the culinary and economic uses of swans in
            medieval Europe, in an England-focused study that links increasing exploitation of swans
            with increasing royal management thereof. Goodison opens with a survey of intriguing
            anecdotes about swans’ high status as comestibles at nobles’ feasts. Goodison shows that
            medieval cooks sometimes increased the showiness of such already-expensive meals by
            making them literally spectacular, as with Master Chiquart’s recipe in the 1420
                <italic>Du fait de cuisine</italic> for anelaborately decorated, four-tiered
            “castl[e] of pastry” (104), atop which a swan was made to seem to breathe “fire” (105),
            or in the description of French medieval cooks’ meticulous removal of the swan’s skin
            “in one piece,” and later to reinsert the cooked carcass, so as to create the “marvel”
            of a “redressed swan” made to look “alive” (106). Stereotypes about the superiority of
            French to English cooking might be unintentionally reinforced for readers who turn from
            the theatrics of French medieval cooking to Goodison’s discussion of the recipe for
            English “chawdoun sauce,” the prime ingredient of which is the “offal of swans”
            (108).</p>
        
        <p>This chapter is especially strong in its analysis of medieval swans’ economic value.
            After describing the high prices of swans relative to those for other edible birds,
            Goodison demonstrates how such high valuation led to considerable “record-keeping”
            (112). Moreover, the fact that such birds were kept in a state of
            “semi-domestication”--that is, swans were allowed to “wander on commons and in private
            lands, and to mate and nest” in various watery spaces (112)--led to the development of a
            range of economic and cultural practices. Goodison offers a stimulating survey of the
            practice of “marking” swans, according to which these valuable, yet mobile pieces of
            avian property were marked with ownership symbols (samples of which are offered here),
            either with a knife or by branding (113-14). </p>
        
        <p>Consistently emphasizing the high economic value of swans, Goodison shows how swans’
            mobility created a web of economic practices and legal policies. After discussing the
            rise of the position of “swanherds,” who both cared for swans and strove to prevent
            their “theft” (115), Goodison traces the beginnings of a nearly full royal appropriation
            of swan regulation in England by exploring the development of the royal office of “Swan
            Master” (116) and the creation of a series of increasingly aggressive royal policies on
            swans issued by Edward IV. Moving to the Early Modern era, Goodison shows how Elizabeth
            I cultivated “ever greater control over swans” (119), leading to Charles I’s 1632
            assumption of royal control over any swan not specifically marked as a noble’s property.
            After discussing the annual practice of royal management of disputes over swan ownership
            known as the “Swan Upping” (121),</p>
        <p>Goodison observes that the crucial economic importance of swans diminished precipitously
            as “turkeys” displaced swans as the “preferred dinner bird” in the early nineteenth
            century (122).</p>
        
        <p>In a short conclusion, Goodison notes the enduring cultural importance of swans in the
            modern era. Swans and poetry remain linked through such singular associations as
            Shakespeare’s association with the bird (128), while such influential works as Grimms’
                <italic>Fairy Tales</italic>, Tchaikovsky’s <italic>Swan Lake</italic>, and Darren
            Aronofsky’s <italic>Black Swan</italic> each show traces of medieval swan legends’
            ongoing impact (128). Goodison also traces the persistence of such practices as the Swan
            Upping and British royal control over most of the territory’s swans, though such
            practices are now shown to be more concerned with “conservation” than economics (128).
            Observing that the Swan Knight legend has survived most significantly in modern Germany,
            particularly through Richard Wagner’s<italic>Lohengrin</italic> and the
            nineteenth-century transformation of “medieval ruins” into Neuschwanstein Castle (131),
            Goodison closes by noting the frequent use of swan imagery in modern pubs throughout
            England: the association of swans with alcohol consumption in “medieval Britain”
            evidently lives on.</p>
        
        <p>Featuring some gorgeously reproduced color plates and extensive bibliography, Goodison’s
                <italic>Introducing the Medieval Swan</italic> provides a superb introduction to the
            historical and cultural legacy of medieval swans. Although the work focuses on English,
            French, and German traditions, its vision illuminates the European-wide engagement with
            swans by also exploring Scandinavian, Irish, and other medieval swan texts and
            practices. Any medievalist is encouraged to procure a copy of this richly sourced,
            tastefully illustrated, lively, and very thought-provoking analysis of medieval
            swans.</p>
    </body>
</article>
