Category: Monsters & Magic

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Crafting a New Kind of Renaissance Faire: Theatrical Medievalism and the Aesthetic of Wonder

I am always looking for my next adventure, and so this past year I took a risk and wandered into new territory. Through creative partnership with my wife, Rajuli Fahey, and the many folks involved in what became FaeGuild Wonders, we together built not one but two inaugural Renaissances Faires in Massachusetts. Rajuli served as Art & Entertainment Director, and Stage Manager (and one of the Vending Coordinators at the latter faire), I served as Creative & Theatrical Director, Playwright and Academic Consultant for both Wyndonshire Renaissance Faire at the Community Park in our resident town of Winchendon, MA and Enchanted Orchard Renaissance Faire at Red Apple Farm just down the road in nearby Phillipston, MA.

Witnessing the Maypole Dance at Enchanted Orchard: Orchard Wizard (Creative & Theatrical Director, Richard Fahey), Orchard Steward (Red Apple Farm Owner, Al Rose), Orchard Stewardess (Red Apple Farm Owner, Nancy Rose); Image by Richard Carter (May 4th, 2025).

Public medievalism has long been a professional interest and personal passion of mine, and although I enjoy scholarship and traditional ways of academically engaging with medieval history, literature and culture, I am also drawn to the fantastic and wondrous, to the creative and adaptive, and it has long been a personal dream to produce full-scale Renaissance Faire that takes medieval literature and the aesthetic of wonder as its creative direction. Indeed, during my PhD studies at the University of Notre Dame, I organized a small-scale theatrical production called Grendelkin, which featured innovative and avant-garde performances related to Beowulf, which brought together musical artists, professional dancers and early medieval English scholars.

The Rogue Council of Wyndonshire: Hooded Rogue (Mandalina Blake), Pirate Queen (Katharine Taylor), Robber Baroness (Micayla Sullivan), Master of Arms (Keith Fisher), Pirate Quartermaster (Jarod Tavares), Masked Bandit (Mitch Lang); In back: Captain of the Kingsguard (Richard Carter), Blue Duchess (Lori Evans), Baronsguard (Ben Becker); Image by Adam Blake (April 27th, 2024).

The project’s scope expanded well beyond anything I might have anticipated when I signed on to be a Member of a Planning Group in our small Town of Winchendon, agreeing to create characters and produce a script, storyline and lore for Park & Recreation Member Dawn Higgins’ RenFaire initiative. Of course, there were many challenges to overcome along the way, some from the nature of startup projects and some from the circumstances surrounding organizing two distinct faires with very different models and storylines, which debuted back-to-back weekends this spring. While my blog today is in part a celebration of both events, it will center primarily on the creative inspiration and direction that shape both Renfaires and the world-building aspects that allowed me to leverage my expertise and love of medieval literature, especially that which contains monstrous and wondrous elements, in my creative process.

Wyndonshire Fairy (Jodi Schoolcraft) & Wyndonshire Town Crier (Leanne Blake), Image by Kit Catlett (April 27th, 2024).

However, before we dive too deep into the creative process, a brief description of both faires is in order:

Wyndonshire Renaissance Faire

For this faire, Rajuli and I both volunteered our professional services in order to support our town, local community and the beautiful amphitheater at the Winchendon Community Park. As the project grew so did our roles in the production of Wyndonshire. What began as a modest endeavor bloomed into a full-blown production that welcomed and engaged the local art community. Although all of the characters are fictitious (some cocreated with the character actors themselves), I based the House names around prominent families from Winchendon (the Murdocks and Whitneys in particular), though there is no intended relationship (allegorical or otherwise) between the Wyndonshire nobles and said historical families. This year’s plotline centered around “The Wyndonshire Wedding” between the Blue Princess (played by Melony “Melegie” Lemony) and Green Prince (played by Drew Dias). The wedding is coupled with political intrigue and subterfuge, resulting in a contest for power between the Blue King (played by James Higgins), Green Queen (played by Tammy Dykstra) and Red Baron (played by Dave Fournier) and culminating in a peasant revolt featuring rogues, pirates and marauders led by the Robber Baroness (played by Micayla Sullivan), the Pirate Queen (played by Katharine Taylor) and the Viking Jarl (played by Jason Sumrall).

The Red Baron (Dave Fournier) and Blue King (James Higgins) of Wyndonshire; Image by Kit Catlett (April 27, 2024).

Enchanted Orchard Renaissance Faire

After Wyndonshire was underway, this faire was conceived in collaboration with a local farm and festival venue, Red Apple Farm, owned by Al and Nancy Rose, who were excited to cocreate an event such as this in order to advertise their growing business, provide interactive and experience-based agricultural awareness, bring tourism to the surrounding area and support both the regional economy and artist community. Enchanted Orchard Renaissance Faire features fictitious characters and storylines that are centered on sustainable farming practices and agrarian life which was the bedrock for the medieval world. The main conflict concerns a disagreement between the nobles as to whether or not to expand the orchard or preserve the forest, with the Orchard King (played by Paul Taft) and Blossom Baroness (played by Jen Knight) advocating for conservation and the May Queen (played by Tammy Dykstra) and Duke of Thorns (played by Dave Fournier) opposing and advocating for preservation, ending with an unexpected marriage proposal and announcement between the Prince of Leaves (Michael Barboza-McLean) and the Blueberry Princess (Melanie “Melegie” Lemony).

Enchanted Orchard Knights and Nobles: Prince of Leaves (Barboza-McLean), Green Knight (Quinne Richard), May Queen (Tammy Dykstra), Orchard King (Paul Taft), Blue Knight (Ayden Mel), Blueberry Princess (Melanie “Melegie” Lemony), Red Knight (Dan Towle), Duke of Thorns (Dave Fournier), Hand of the Duke (Devon Barker); Image by Kit Catlett (May 4th, 2024).

These events included performances by musical and theatrical groups such as The Knights of Lord Talbot, Meraki Caravan, The Phoenix Swords, The Shank Painters, The Harlot Queens, The Warlock Wondershow, The Misfits of Avalon, Diva Di, Dead Gods are the New Gods, The Green Sash, The Mt. Wichusett Witches, Skeleton Crew Theater, Massachusetts Historical Swordsmanship [HEMA], The Ditrani Brothers, Nagashri Dancers, PsyBEL, Our Dance Space and numerous solo performers.

Obviously, RenFaires are at their core fantasy. They do not reflect in any consistent or credible way the historical realities of the medieval or early modern period, and even those groups and projects that are purportedly more focused and committed to historical accuracy, such as the Society for Creative Anachronism [SCA] and Pennsic Wars, acknowledge the deep limitations of attempting to recreate a historical past in the present: it’s simply not possible.

Enchanted Orchard Pub Sing: Orchard King (Paul Taft), Hand of the Duke (Devon Barker), Viking Shieldmaiden (Sylvia Sandridge), Duke of Thorns (Dave Fournier), Orchard Wizard (Richard Fahey), Orchard Herald (Nikolaus Brauer-Chagnon), Pirate Queen (Katharine Taylor), Blossom Baroness (Jen Knight), Countess of the Rose (Dawn Higgins), Pirate Quartermaster (Jarod Tavares), Weird Sister (Siobhan Doherty), Wyndonshire Herald (Alex Deschenes), Blue Knight (Ayden Mel), Orchard Jester (Chelsey Patriss), Siren (Jessa Funa), Prince of Leaves (Michael Barboza-McLean), Orchard Enchantress (Rajuli Fahey), Blueberry Princess (Melanie “Melegie” Lemony); Image by Richard Carter (May 5th, 2025).

Although folk certainly do not (and cannot despite best efforts) actually travel back in time when attending a RenFaire, and many of the performance groups embed non-historical or fantastic elements, the desire to experience something historically adjacent, something medievalish, to invoke modern perceptions (and at times misconceptions) of premodern times, and to be immersed in a world of medievalism, has bloomed in recent years and will likely continue to grow. As a medievalist interested in the intersection between medieval studies and medievalism, my goal in cocreating and directing these RenFaires was never to recreate the historical past or attempt to conjure the authentic premodern world, but rather to evoke the experience and aesthetic of wonder that imbues so many of the works of medieval literature I love most and which dramatize the monstrous, the magical, the mysterious, miraculous and the uncanny. I asked myself and the Muses two essential questions: 1.) what would it be like to walk into a work of medieval literature? And, 2.) what would it be like to walk into a medievalesque fantasy world?

Princes of Wyndonshire: the Satyr Prince (Sasha Khetarpal-Vasser) and the Green Prince (Drew Dias); Image by Mitch Grosky (April 27th, 2024).

I knew I wanted the experience to be highly immersive. I wanted folks attending to feel part of something—to have almost crossed into a fairyworld or an uncanny realm. I wanted the experience to be overwhelming, with too much to possibly see or do. I wanted to create the illusion of entering a world that is alive with everything from town gossip to its own historiography and mythography. Most of all, I wanted the patrons to experience the wonder that is embedded throughout medieval literature and that makes medievalism such a joy to modern audiences. I decided to include both stage performances and many immersive skits, as well as multiple interlacing subplots that come together at various points throughout the events.

Wyndonshire Rogues and the Green Sash Marauders: Masked Bandit (Mitch Lang), Robber Baroness (Micayla Sullivan), Pirate Quartermaster (Jarod Tavares), Viking Jarl (Jason Sumrall), Viking Warrior (Jeffery Allen Evans), Viking Berserker (Andrew Hamel) & Wyndonshire patrons; Image by Richard Fahey (April 28th, 2024).

In the end, both faires were a wicked good time and proved to be huge successes—for the town and for the farm—and from these experiences a community formed into a sort of immersive theater company, FaeGuild Wonders. Because of our unique approach to these Renaissance Faires, the immersive and theatrical dramatizations in particular, and the inclusive spirit of community present at these events, we received some local press leading up to and after their debuts. But the best part of the entire process for me, personally, was not even seeing my vision come to life—it was the community building and getting to collaborate with my friends and family.

Captain of the Kingsguard (Richard Carter), Wizard of Wyndonshire (Richard Fahey), Kingsguard (Kellie Carter); in back: Blue King (James Higgins); Image by patron for Richard Carter (April 27th, 2024).

I could talk about each event in detail, exploring the ways I engage the medieval aesthetic of wonder as well as the modern imaginary, but those will likely be the substance of future blogs on Wyndonshire and Enchanted Orchard. Most exciting of all for me to share is a brand-new event that Rajuli and I are planning and directing this winter, again in collaboration with the Red Apple Farm team led by the Roses (because they were such awesome partners): the Northfolk Nightmarket on February 22nd and 23rd 2025. This will offer me the incredible opportunity to dramatize the story of Beowulf, the subject of my dissertation and the majority of my scholarship, and interweave the story into an inaugural event which will draw inspiration directly from medieval lore, literature, myth and legend. Perhaps we’ll see you there?

Richard Fahey, PhD in English
Medieval Institute
University of Notre Dame

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Imagining the Medieval Bestiary

Medieval bestiaries, which flourished during the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, particularly in England, are compendia of brief descriptions of various animals (sometimes plants and stones are included as well), which offer moral or allegorical lessons, and are often colorfully illustrated.

Basic modern definitions often suggest a sort of binary, ontological taxonomy for the creatures in these texts: bestiaries feature “real” animals (or “actual” or “factual” ones, such as dogs, crocodiles, beavers, and elephants), but also “imaginary” ones (or “mythical,” “legendary,” or “fabulous” ones, etc., such as unicorns, phoenixes, and manticores).

Unicorn from Aberdeen Bestiary (Aberdeen, Aberdeen University Library MS 24, f15r).

Bestiaries themselves don’t appear to distinguish between “real” and “imaginary” animals, in terms of the arrangement of entries or the way that creatures from these two categories are verbally described or artistically depicted;[1] the distinction is a modern and anachronistic one. Furthermore, bestiaries’ inclusion of hard-to-believe anecdotes about well-known creatures who actually do exist (e.g., the stag’s alleged habit of drowning snakes) renders the boundary between “real” and “imaginary” animals, as we might consider it, less firm in these texts. At stake in the discourse of the “real” versus the “imaginary” in bestiaries is our view of medieval thinkers.

One approach to the “imaginary” animals in bestiaries—a very old approach to interpreting mythical creatures, in fact—is rationalistic: positing that even the legends have some basis in reality, and that real animals were, through a combination of misunderstanding and literary transmission, rendered (almost) unrecognizable. Notable proponents of this view in modern times have included T. H. White (1954), and more recently, zoologists Wilma George and Brunsdon Yapp (1991).

Phoenix from Ashmole Bestiary (Oxford, Bodleian Library, MS Ashmole 1511, f68r).

Bestiaries, for these scholars, can be read as works of natural history, albeit flawed ones, and we should perhaps extend some generosity to their creators, in light of the limitations of their knowledge. George and Yapp characterize the bestiary as “an attempt, not wholly unsuccessful or discreditable for the time at which it was produced, to give some account of some of the more conspicuous creatures that could be seen by the reader or that occurred in legends.”[2] They suggest, for instance, that the manticore—described in bestiaries as a creature with a man’s face, a lion’s body, three rows of teeth, and a tail like a scorpion stinger—was based on the cheetah; that the unicorn could actually be an oryx; and that the half-human, half-fish siren could be a Mediterranean monk seal.

Reading bestiaries as genuine, sometimes highly faulty attempts at something comparable to modern natural history is not a popular position amongst medievalist scholars of bestiaries. However, the idea of bestiaries as failed pre-modern zoology lingers in some sources aimed at popular audiences. The entry on bestiaries in the Encyclopaedia Britannica, for example, claims that the “frequently abstruse stories” in these works “were often based on misconceptions about the facts of natural history.”

Manticore from Ashmole Bestiary (Oxford, Bodleian Library, MS Ashmole 1511, f22v).

As for the ontological status of “imaginary” bestiary creatures to medieval readers, i.e., whether they believed unicorns, etc. actually existed, this is hard to ascertain, and perhaps of less interest to many scholars than the prospect of examining the messages these rich works articulate on their own terms. Still, the unsupported assertion that bestiary stories were “generally believed to be true” in the Middle Ages, as the Wikipedia page for bestiaries claims, is very much in line with widespread perceptions of the period.

It is an appealing contemporary fantasy, not so much to believe in dragons or unicorns, but to believe that people really believed in them, once—a sort of vicarious experience of enchantment, accomplished not simply by imaginatively engaging with medieval works that depict fantastic animals, but by imagining more credulous medieval readers, and perhaps even by imagining oneself in their place.

Dragon from Aberdeen Bestiary (Aberdeen, Aberdeen University Library MS 24, f65v).

To take both “real” and “imaginary” bestiary creatures as the texts present them—not seeking to sieve the factual from the fabulous, not seeking an ordinary, well-known animal behind the remarkable verbal and visual depictions that bestiaries offer—allows for, amongst other things, a certain defamiliarization of the natural world we inhabit.

Playing on the fertile ambiguities of bestiary accounts is a project by The Maniculum (a podcast series which brings together medieval texts and modern gaming, co-hosted by E. C. McGregor Boyle, a PhD Candidate at Purdue University, and Zoe Franznick, an award-winning writer for Pentiment). On the Maniculum Tumblr, readers are offered “anonymized” selections from the Aberdeen Bestiary (i.e., the name of the animal being described is replaced with a nonsense-word to disguise its identity). Contributors are invited to create artwork inspired by the bestiary description itself, rather than their knowledge of what the animal is “supposed” to look like. The results are diverse; the “hyena” entry, for instance, yielded representations of creatures resembling everything from pigs to predatory snails, in a wide range of styles.

Hyena from Aberdeen Bestiary (Aberdeen, Aberdeen University Library MS 24, f11v).

Bestiaries continue to fascinate and inspire, centuries after their creation. Below are some medieval bestiary facsimiles and related resources to explore:

  • The Aberdeen Bestiary (Aberdeen, Aberdeen University Library MS 24), written and illustrated in England ca. 1200. Digital facsimile, accompanied by commentary, and Latin transcriptions and modern English translations of each folio.
  • The Ashmole Bestiary (Oxford, Bodleian Library, MS Ashmole 1511), early 13th century, England, possibly derived from the same exemplar as the Aberdeen bestiary. Digital facsimile.
  • The Worksop Bestiary (New York, Pierpont Morgan Library, MS M.81), ca. 1185, England. Digital facsimile.
  • The Medieval Bestiary: Animals in the Middle Ages, a website on bestiaries by independent scholar David Badke. Includes indices of bestiary creatures, cross-referenced with manuscripts and relevant scholarship, as well as galleries of medieval illustrations.
  • Into the Wild: Medieval Books of Beasts, YouTube video by The Morgan Library & Museum.

Linnet Heald
PhD in Medieval Studies
University of Notre Dame

[1] Pamela Gravestock, “Did Imaginary Animals Exist?” in The Mark of the Beast: The Medieval Bestiary in Art, Life, and Literature, ed. Debra Hassig (New York: Garland, 1999), 120.

[2] Wilma George and Brunsdon Yapp, The Naming of the Beasts: Natural History in the Medieval Bestiary (London: Duckworth, 1991), p. 1.

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Aþum Swerian: Swearers of Oaths?

Beowulf is a story about a doomed people who are destined for annihilation as a result of depredation, feuding, and cyclical inter-tribal violence. Yet, the violence described in the poem is not always outward but often occurs from within, as acts of intra-tribal violence frame much of the narrative. Even seemingly positive events are thus generally short-lived. Accordingly, in the eminence of King Hrothgar’s glorious construction of Heort, the narrator reveals the hall’s imminent doom:  

Sele hlifade  
heah ond horn-geap.   Heaðo-wylma bad
laðan liges.                Ne wæs hit lenge þa gen  
þæt se ecg-hete aþum swerian 
æfter wæl-niðe wæcnan scolde. (81-5)

The hall sheared upward, high and horn-vaulted. For the battle-surge it waited, loathsome fire. Nor was it long before the edge hate of aþum swerian must awaken for slaughter-spite.

Beowulf Manuscript, excerpt with aþum swerian.” BL, Cotton Vitellius a.vx. MS 130v, BL 133v.

This dire prediction identifies the causal agents of disaster as aþum-swerian. But given that this term is unattested and grammatically invalid, we are bound to ask: Who are these aþum-swerian? The conventional approach solves this conundrum by creating a new term in imitation of such copulatives as suhtergefaedaran (“nephew and uncle” from Beowulf), gisunfader (“son and father” from Heliand), and sunufatarungo (“son and father” from Hildebrandslied). Following these models, the editors of Klaeber 4 (120, 350, 437) emend the term to aþum-sweoran, thereby conjoining aþum (sons-in-law) and sweoran (fathers-in-law). Because this solution apparently predicts the sundering of vows between Ingeld and Hrothgar (2022-66), this emendation has become the dominant convention. 

Nevertheless, there are problems. First, the emended term, glossed as “sons-in-law and fathers-in-law,” differs markedly from the models, which are glossed as “nephew and uncle” and “son and father.” And though the term aþ is indeed attested with the gloss “son-in-law,” the rendering aþum-sweoran is a hapax legomenon attested nowhere in the extant corpus of Old English literature. Making the invention yet more suspect is the well-attested phrase, sweor ond aþum (father-in-law and son-in-law), which would seem to preclude a need for the copulative. 

The proposed term also falls short in its narratological salience. There are no “sons-in-law” implicated in the violence that erupts at Ingeld’s wedding, only one “son-in-law.” Yet more problematic, this single crisis cannot account for the apocalyptic imagery that frames Heorot’s catastrophe. Prior to the prediction of calamity, the hall’s construction is marked by an array of tropes that suggest the Tower of Babel. As Tristan Major observes, “Hrothgar’s rise to power [64-79] and the building of his hall, Heorot, echoes Nimrod and the Tower of Babel” (242).” Likewise, as Daniel Anlezark observes, the hall’s destruction is marked by retributive images of Flood and Hellfire (336-7). In sum, the proposed solution leaves important problems unresolved. It inaccurately predicts “sons-in-law” in respect to Ingeld. And it does not account for the apocalyptic imagery of idolatry, flame, and fire that marks Heorot’s doom.

The Tower of Babel. London, British Library, Cotton Claudius B.IV, fol 19r. 

In this review, we promote an alternative initially proposed by Michael Alexander. This alternative interprets aþum as the plural dative “oaths” and emends swerian to the plural dative -swaran (swearers). The rendering “swearers of oaths,” acknowledged by Klaeber 4 as possible, has the advantage of relying on attested terms. The plural dative form aþum (oaths) occurs not only in the corpus but also in Beowulf, and the second term (-swara) occurs in a similar compound, man-swaran (criminal swearers). Yet more support for this construct can be found in the oath-swearing between Hengest and Finn. Here the term aðum also occurs as a plural dative, framing a parallel scenario in which oaths will be broken and a hall destroyed:

Fin Hengeste
elne, unflitme aðum benemde
þæt he þa wealafe weotena dome 
arum heolde, þæt ðær ænig mon 
wordum ne worcum wære ne bræce . . . .  (1097-100)

“Fin with Hengest without quarrel declared his oath that he would by his council’s judgment hold [the truce] with honor that any man there by word or deeds should not break the covenant . . . .”

The emendation to aþum-swaran also offers much stronger alignment with the narrative arc. Notably, this alignment begins with the paired disclosures that define Fitt I: Whereas the history of Grendel’s origin locates Cain’s act of murder as a calamity in the past, the prediction of murderous oath-swearers locates Heorot’s destruction as a calamity in the future. This parallel design is highly significant: In effect, it forges a link between Cain’s crime of kinship murder and the internecine violence that spells Heorot’s doom. This linkage, moreover, not only intimates the Danes’ ongoing state of iniquity but also explains the apocalyptic tropes that frame the hall’s calamity. Accordingly, Heorot’s doom emerges not as a circumstantial event caused by brawling Danes and Heathobards but as an in-kind retributive event that aligns perfidious Nordic warriors with the curse of exile from human joys, entailed in Cain’s crime and punishment.

Cain killing Abel with a scythe. Bible Historiale. British Library, MS Harley 4381, f.10r, 1403-1404.

Notably, also, the intimation of Danish perfidy is borne out across the narrative arc. Beowulf and the narrator declare Unferth’s fratricidal treachery; the narrator insinuates Hrothulf’s possible resentment against his uncle, Hrothgar; the lay of Finn and Hildeburh recounts the Danes’ violation of peace oaths in favor of murderous revenge; Hrothgar’s adoption of Beowulf sparks Wealhtheow’s resistance and her appeals to warriors in the hall; and Hrothgar violates his promise of protection to the Geats, potentially inciting Beowulf’s revenge. This surfeit of Danish treachery, in other words, aligns perfectly with the narrator’s revelation that “swearers of oaths” will soon incite violence.

For this reason, also, the reference to oath-swearers functions as a formula for suspense—a design that impels the audience to consider, in a fictive world replete with perfidy and oath-making, which of the oath-swearers will incite a conflagration? Will Unferth the fratricide murder again? Will Hrothulf avenge his displacement from the throne? Will one of the Danes retaliate against Hrothgar’s covenant with Beowulf, the foreigner? Will Wealhtheow incite the same kind of intertribal violence that erupts in the Frisians’ hall? Will Beowulf retaliate against Hrothgar for deserting his men?

The emendation to aþum-swaran presents a solution that is better attested and more meaningful than the conventional emendation to aþum-sweoran. As noted above, the gloss of “sons-in-law” does not possess predictive value regarding Ingeld, and the sundering of vows between Ingeld and Hrothgar cannot explain the apocalyptic imagery surrounding the disclosure of Heorot’s doom. Conversely, that same apocalyptic imagery aligns perfectly with a depiction of Danish society as inherently unstable, doomed to self-destruction, as the unchecked impulses of egoistic aggrandizement overcome the covenants that bind social order. Likewise, the depiction of Danish perfidy permeates the narrative arc. Accordingly, the disclosure of violent oath-swearers functions within an ingenious narrative design. It affords the schadenfreude of dramatic irony, as the audience anticipates a disaster the characters know not of. And it thus generates a game of blind corners, in which the audience’s knowledge of impending violence from oath-swearers charges subsequent events with anticipation and suspense. 

Chris Vinsonhaler & Richard Fahey
Medieval Institute
CUNY University & University of Notre Dame


Selected Bibliography & Further Reading

Alexander, Michael. Beowulf: A Glossed Text. Penguin Classics, 1995.

Anlezark, Daniel. Water and Fire: The Myth of the Flood in Anglo-Saxon England. Manchester U Press, 2006. 

Major, Tristan. Undoing Babel: The Tower of Babel in Anglo-Saxon Literature. U Toronto Press, 2018.