Medieval urban planning seems so compact, derived from its logic of protection (think thick medieval city walls, the inevitable port-cullis, and heavy drawbridges) - but I must say that I stumble over the associations being made by this architecture: commerce and justice. Is this a grouping of secular endeavors? Both linked to the local feudal lord (who (or whose court) administered justice)? And let's keep in mind that in the Middle Ages (not necessarily especially in the Middle Ages, but nonetheless, noticeably in this culture) both commerce and justice were relative, not absolute values: they were at the discretion (some have said whim) of those in power (well, of course, many critics today will say that is still the case!). So there's something interesting here about the pragmatism of these two circumstantially determined culture values: commerce and justice - the pragmatism of their location, that is. In both Vannes and Josselin, the Cohue is in very close proximity to the Church - directly across the street in Vannes, and just behind where I was standing when I took that picture in Josselin. There are some great books out there on medieval urban design - time to read them!
We had our own cohue (as in bustling commotion, not quite mayhem) going tonight. There was this one wonderful moment (in that afterglow post-"pain et Nutella" and pre-dinner) when all of the following things were going on: Oliver was watching the opening scenes of his beloved Muppet Treasure Island; Iris was reading a book we discovered here called Ivy and Bean out loud; and Eleanor had heckled Mac into finding "We Will Rock You" (yes, by Queen - it's her favorite song of all time, no joke) on his computer. I looked at this little crew and just loved them so much: each with their passionate little project, each so telling of each kid's personality. Wonder what they would have been like in a medieval cohue market. :-)
Oh! There was one quick thing about Oliver and French that I forgot to note last night: his first kind of hybrid French-English joke: "What does a French cow say when it needs help?" "I don't know, Oliver, what does a French cow say when it needs help?" "Moo secours!" (instead of "Au secours" - very funny!).
A month ago, we were taking down our Christmas tree, sealing up our house, and packing our bags. Tonight, as Mac and I were doing the dishes, I noticed that each kid had settled into what has become their favorite spot.
Iris, no surprise, has set up an elaborate space in the window seat using a blanket she couldn't resist at the Carrefour store, pillows, and various books and writing and drawing implements.
The kids went to bed with no cohue - just lots of plans for tomorrow (Wednesdays = no school). For now, I'm going to read the dramatic conclusion to The Breton Wench...!
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