Parergon

The most recent volume in the Studies in Medievalism series, Politics and Medievalism (Studies) II, continues the theme of its predecessor (Politics and Medievalism, Studies in Medievalism XXIX, reviewed by Kevin J. Harty in Parergon, 38.1 (2021): 219–21), and investigates how and why the Middle Ages have been invoked by politicians, and the way in which politics have influenced the development medievalism and its study. This volume falls somewhere between a special journal issue and a book collection. The volume offers nine essays on the topic of ‘Politics and Medievalism’ and is followed by shorter ‘open issue’ section that includes four essays on medievalism across multiple genres.

The opening essay by Louise D’Arcens addresses how Tariq Ali’s 2005 novel A Sultan in Palermo, set in twelfth-century Norman Sicily, presents a dynamic supranational community within and between the Mediterranean, Levantine, and Arabian regions. D’Arcens highlights how A Sultan in Palermo, published post-9/11, was written in a climate of increased suspicion of the Islamic world during a period of conflict between the East and West, and alludes to contemporary events, such as the US-led invasion of Iraq. D’Arcens shows how Ali’s novel ‘views the Middle Ages through a transnational and transcultural lens’ (p. 3) and works to challenge Eurocentric views of the medieval.

Stephen Lahey’s essay discusses Tomáš Garrigue Masaryk, Czechoslovakia’s first president, and his admiration of Petr Chelčický (1390–1460), a Christian spiritual leader and author from medieval Bohemia. Masaryk believed that Chelčický was the one figure who came closest ‘to embodying the Czech identity’ (p. 1). Lahey traces how the influence of Chelčický over Masaryk’s thinking and politics was reassessed during the shift from liberal nationalism, to Soviet nationalism, to, finally, post-Soviet years in Czechoslovakia.

Alexander L Kaufman’s essay offers a survey of political memes in the first two decades of the twenty-first century, featuring the iconic heroic figure of Robin Hood, created, and used by the far right in the United States of America. Kaufman interrogates these memes, highlighting their attempts to criticise politicians such as Barack Obama and Hilary Clinton, through their warped representations of Robin Hood and his ideology. Robin Hood is recast from his former well-known role as saviour of the poor to someone with unscrupulous and sinister plans to introduce a corrupt political system that rewards the unworthy and benefits the few.

The reworking of iconic English figures and events are also discussed by Susan Aronstein and Laurie Finke, and John C. Ford, who offer two fascinating essays which focus on the intersection of medievalism, Brexit, and the myth of nations. These two essays highlight the link between medievalism and Brexit, demonstrating how allusions to past iconic English victories—both mythical (Saint George in Rory Mullarkey’s 2017 play, Saint George and the Dragon) and historical (the Battle of Agincourt)—have shaped the idea of the British nation, [End Page 255] and are reworked to both critique and support Britain’s campaign to leave the European Union.

Galit Noga-Banai’s essay examines in depth the architecture of the memorial for German soldiers at El Alamein, Egypt, the site of the World War II battle in 1942: the British victory here led to the end of the Axis threat to Egypt. Noga-Banai argues that the memorial’s form and content overtly reference medieval predecessors, and focuses in particular on the mosaic by Franz Grau and its Byzantine influences. The inclusion of saint-like figures in this mosaic, along with the medievalism-inspired design of the memorial, recasts visits to the space as a medieval pilgrimage that asks visitors to leaves aside the historical events of the battle, and instead emphasise the dead soldiers’ roles as political martyrs, ‘as victims’ (p. 104), something which Noga-Banai argues reflects how German authorities dealt with post-war guilt.

Leticia Álvarez-Recio’s...