We’re always thinking about world-building, whether it’s for a play on stage or a new exhibition, or more recently, for a game. The Folger has created scavenger hunts and a Wordle-inspired Shakespearean word game and now a tabletop role-playing game—think Dungeons & Dragons—with Folger Foe-lios! Set in a fantastical realization of the Folger one week before reopening after years of renovation—sound familiar?—players help uncover why the pages of the books in the stacks are suddenly blank, including a treasured First Folio, encountering along the way the witches of Macbeth, a mopey Hamlet, larger than life fairies, and the infamous Puck.
We’ve noticed that for many creators in the fantasy genre, from book series to binge-worthy shows to adventure games, the action takes place in a distant past. That’s something that our house playwright understood well—just look at the history plays! We asked Kavita Mudan Finn, an interdisciplinary scholar working between history, literature, gender studies, and fan/reception studies, why medievalism is so often the default setting for fantasy; the historical accuracy, or not, of these depictions; and what it says about us. Fellow nerds assemble!
Why does so much fantasy media these days take place in some version of medieval Europe? The answer, I argue, lies in what Dr. Megan Cook, a medievalist at Colby College, calls “dirtbag medievalism,” or “a kind of meta-medievalism, distilled through the internet and pop culture,” less about culture or history or authenticity and more of a “vibe.” For instance, Cook points to Medieval TikTok as a “joyful” example of dirtbag medievalism, while historical fashion Instagram—however joyful—is not. This seems like where we stand when we talk about the kind of medievalism at work in fantasy worlds, including but not limited to tabletop role-playing games (TTRPGs) like Dungeons & Dragons.
All medievalist fantasy worlds* at least glance toward J.R.R. Tolkien, and therefore toward a specific interpretation of medieval history and culture filtered through the traumas of the First World War and the peculiarities of Oxford academia. And while Tolkien’s novels—per Cook—are not themselves dirtbag medievalism, their particular “medievalism takes on its own standards of authenticity and the historical referent becomes largely superfluous.” This reared its ugly head before the first season of the Rings of Power TV series aired in 2022, when it was revealed that there were Elves, Hobbits, and Dwarves who were (gasp!) not white. Certain sections of the Tolkien fandom promptly lost their minds. Similar bile was spilled regarding Witcher and House of the Dragon.
These ‘dirtbag’ aesthetics are, as Cook observed, about the vibe, rather than any sort of authenticity. It’s what separates series like Reign or My Lady Jane from the BBC drama Wolf Hall, even though all of them allegedly take place within the same 16th century, and one can argue they all have something to say about power, politics, and gender—even if those points are conveyed through the liberal use of, among other things, prophecies, crop tops, witches, ghosts, blood-sacrificing cults, shapeshifters, and fatal sex accidents. And there is something to be said for moving away from that tired defense of “that’s just how things were back then” anytime someone tries to critique interpretive choices, and just embracing the dirtbag in all of us.
But.
(You knew that was coming.)
You can’t just throw reality out the window.
Medieval Europe wasn’t filled with manly men and silent women, all of whom were white and straight. That ‘vibe’, as it were, came out of 19th-century European ideas of white supremacy and the desire to claim a culture of their own that they could use to replace the ones they were destroying for colonial power.
So, be a dirtbag medievalist, by all means—I consider myself one—but don’t fall into the trap of being silent about potatoes (which did not exist in medieval Europe), but not about people of color (who most assuredly did).
If we can acknowledge that medievalism is about creating a past in one’s own image, framed by one’s own nostalgia, we can move beyond the outdated, racist, sexist assumptions we’ve inherited, and create a new dirtbag medievalism that’s better for us all.
I want to conclude with what I hope is a fun case study in dirtbag medievalism, and for this, I am going to turn back to Megan Cook’s multi-part definition (which, itself, is an allusion to Umberto Eco’s Ten Little Middle Ages).
Ten Reasons Why William Shakespeare* Was a Dirtbag Medievalist
* also Christopher Marlowe, George Peele, and the entire 1590s theater scene
1. Dirtbag medievalism is commercial and it wants to be noticed.
At some point late in the 1580s (or, at the absolute latest, 1590–91), a new play premiered in London that was printed in 1594 under the title The First Part of the Contention betwixt the two famous Houses of Yorke and Lancastrer, with the death of the good Duke Humphrey: And the banishment and death of the Duke of Suffolke, and the Tragicall end of the proud Cardinall of VVinchester, vvith the notable Rebellion of Iacke Cade: And the Duke of Yorkes first claime vnto the Crowne.* If that doesn’t scream “Notice me!” I don’t know what does.
* Or, as we’ve come to know it: Henry VI, Part 2.
2. Dirtbag medievalism finds you, despite being ‘arcane’.
More than half of Act 2, Scene 2, is a detailed genealogy lesson explaining why the duke of York should be king of England, punctuated by one character cheerfully exclaiming “What plain proceeding is more plain than this?” That has been a massive laugh line in every production I’ve seen.
3. Dirtbag medievalism is accessible.
“First thing we do, let’s kill all the lawyers!” (Act 4, Scene 1)
4. Dirtbag medievalism, might gesture toward historical accuracy, but it is not too worried about it.
Eleanor Cobham had been in prison for witchcraft and treason for three years before Margaret of Anjou arrived in England, but it’s so much better if they can snipe at one another for 1.5 acts, and have a full-on catfight, before Margaret’s lover engineers Eleanor’s arrest.
5. Dirtbag medievalism is exciting, it wants to thrill you.
You try squeezing a royal wedding, witchcraft, multiple murders, pirates, an entire popular rebellion, and the start of a multi-decade civil war into a single play.
6. Dirtbag medievalism, like all medievalisms, is very often more about the present telling on itself than the past.
This is where people have flashbacks to the “historical context” lectures from their college Shakespeare classes. People in Elizabethan England were concerned about the impending regime change, because everybody knew the queen was mortal, and that all the people around her were out for themselves, not necessarily for the greater good.
7. Dirtbag medievalism does not aspire to cultural authority, or if it does, it situates itself in opposition to dominant forms of authority.
There is a massive indictment of wealthy and powerful grifters woven throughout this play, and while Jack Cade is not exactly sympathetic, he makes some valid points.
8. Dirtbag medievalism is ideologically porous.
There are so many competing agendas in Henry VI, Part 2 that you can spin it from a variety of angles and still end up with an effective production. But it does lend itself particularly well to commentary on incompetent regimes.
9. Dirtbag medievalism is affectively earnest but it is not primarily educational.
This is why you should not use these plays as a historical source. That is not what they’re for. They are to be viewed with your sweet or savory treat of choice so you can yell at everybody’s poor decisions.
10. Dirtbag medievalism can be a matter of intention or reception but it is more often the latter.
Related to the prior point, several of Shakespeare’s interpretative choices (including #4) made their way into other contemporary works, as well as later historical fictions and biographies. “Good Duke Humphrey” is one; the treacherous, possibly murderous, Margaret is another.
*Author’s note | From Shadow and Bone’s steampunk Ravka to the alternate Regency of Bridgerton, where cotton, sugar, and tea are divorced from colonialism, to the queer high seas of Our Flag Means Death, we are starting to move past medievalism as a default setting. Not to mention Korean and Chinese longform dramas that I only encounter secondhand as beautiful gifsets on Tumblr, but that are clearly engaging in their own kind of nostalgic storytelling.
Mixology: Game Night
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Grimoires and games
Immerse yourself in the magic of the Folger and the early modern world with our new game “A Night at the Library” paired with recipes for two conjuring cocktails to enhance playing.
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