Spring AS XXXV (2001)
Volume VI, Issue 3 (#22)

From the Nachalnik

The last time that I missed Pennsic was Pennsic XX. Thus, it seems rather poetic that I'll miss Pennsic XXX this year. It's the usual tired story of the new job and not being able to get the time off to go. But what it means is that if there is going to be any sort of SIG gathering this year at Pennsic, someone else is going to have to organize it. Most years, we have done a party (the "Festival") and a meeting (the "Class"). Last year, we tried just doing the party. What happens this year depends on you folks. Contact me if you would like to organize anything this year. I would be happy to coordinate the planning but will not be able to attend.

It is becoming part of a pattern, but (again) we are awfully short on material for Slovo this time. I am always looking for new articles, book reviews, and so on to include here. And while I realize that it does not offer the same immediate gratification of posting to a listserv, Slovo is much more visible to the general public. In short, submit!

Financial contributions also keep this whole thing happening and I want to thank Peotr for his financial help this quarter (as well as thanking him for the lovely articles and artwork).

Some Thoughts on "Slavic" Folklore

By David Russell Watson

[Editor's Note: David can be reached at: David R. Watson, P.O. Box 6318, Pahrump, NV 89041, WtsDv@aol.com]

I would like to draw your attention to some errors in Ryan Myers's article "Slavic Folklore" which appeared in the Winter 1999 issue of Slovo. The article describes a heroic ballad called "Iry Dada." To my knowledge the first appearance in print of "Iry Dada" was a version in the Ossetic language with an English translation by the Russian historian George Vernadsky. This version can be found in the Journal of American Folklore 69: 273 (July-September 1956).

In comparing Vernadsky's supposedly original version (more on that below) with Myers's description of it, two major descrepancies are immediately apparent. First is the ethnicity of the tale (Myers claims that it is "Slavic" but Vernadsky presents it as a historical epic of the Ossetian people -- who are not Slavs). Second is the complete reversal of the role of the character of Iry Dada. In Myers's recounting, Iry Dada is described as "a young Slav" and fights on behalf of the Kievans, but in Vernadsky's account Iry Dada is the champion of the Ossetians. Since Iry Dada is the title character this is a significant difference. There are a number of other minor differences and omissions in Myers's version as well.

There is an additional problem. Vernadsky's article was reviewed and criticized by Professor W. B. Henning in the Bulletin of the School of Oriental and African Studies XXI (1958): 315-18, and by V. I. Abaev in Izvestija Akademii Nauk SSSR, Otdelenie literatury yazyka XVII (1958): 1: 72-74. In these critiques both scholars claim that "Iry Dada" was probably a forgery written by an Ossetian colleague of Vernadsky's to bolster some of his theories on Slavic and Ossetian history.

It would be wonderful to determine once and for all if it actually has roots in Slavic or Ossetic folklore, or if it is purely an historical forgery. However, as it stands, it would seem that the "Tale of Iry Dada" is definitely not Slavic and possibly not even a real folktale.

Economical Period Russian Body Armor
Part Two: The Bozolban

By Mordak Timofei'vich Rostovskogo

My next worry in creating economical Russian armour was protecting my forearms while maintaining a Russian look to my armour. After some quick research on the internet of the Armoury Collection in the Hermitage Museum, I realized that bozolbans were shallow, elongated bullet shaped armguards. They extend from wrist to just past the point of the elbow and have another rounded plate covering the inside of the arm from wrist to 1" short of the inside bend of the elbow.

The tools needed are a Whitney punch to make evenly spaced holes along the length of each plate, a metal rod 5/16" in diameter and 24-36" long, a drill, a wire cutter or Dremel tool, a pair of medium needle-nosed pliers, a file, and some kind of saw to cut the metal. The materials needed are a piece of leather, stell or tempered or 14 gauge aluminum 1" wider than the measurement from your wrist to the point of your elbow and 24" long, a 12" by 12" piece of closed cell foam, such as a thermal pad for a sleeping bag.

In the museum pieces, this inside piece actually had three strips running along the arm from wrist to the point before the elbow and connected together by chainmail links along their lengths. A Whitney punch is ideal for creating holes along the edge of these pieces for chainmail links. While this is certainly possible and violates no Society armour rules, I prefer one solid plate on the inner arm to three for the sake of rigidity and safety. Three will work with strips of closed cell foam adhered along their lengths on the inside edge but I prefer peace of mind. The problem was in how to cover the joints of the elbow to pass armour specs.

Not relishing the idea of arm casts, bone bruises or nasty armour bites, I ruthlessly stole an idea from a Turkish persona heavy fighter in Kentucky named Ustad Hasan. He wears a rounded elbow cup without a side wing under his bozolban and merely pads the inside of the large plate at the wrist. Although he insists that no padding has ever been needed on the rest of that plate over the last four years, you could pad it if you wish using strips of closed cell foam adhered to the inside surface. Another idea of Ustad's that I used was heavy aluminum, like that used in street signs. Though I would never advocate their use, they do make excellent armour, I am told. Ustad's lasted four years in weekly fighter practices, weekly melees and weekend tournaments, as well as Gulf Wars and Pennsic every year. Best of all, they are easy and cheap to makeutilizing common workshop tools on a single Sunday.

On Bukhara

By Peotr Alexeivich Novgorodski

[Editor's note: Lord Peotr missed Pennsic last year, but he had a fabulous reason to do so. Instead of Pennsic, he went to Central Asia. This article is part of a continuing series of pieces about his travels.]

The best city on the desert caravan routes is the walled citadel of Bukhara. It is even hotter here than Samarkand. However, the Musselmen who inhabit this place are very clever. They build canals and ponds to cool the city and even plant trees. The buildings are low because, they say, the earth is uncertain here and shakes at times. Outside all is white washed and blinding at midday, though pleasant enough before dawn and after sunset.

They have no wood, but build of mudbrick, white washed. All the important buildings are stone or brick -- the Citadel, Tower, caravansarai and markets. Storks, which feed on frogs and fishes in the canals and pools, build nests in the trees and on the buildings. They are deemed a sign of good luck.

The markets are the jewels of Bukhara. The ruler rebuilt three new markets with stone vaulting, named for the moneychangers, jewelers and hat makers. There are also a large spice and slave markets here. The people of the city are very diverse -- mainly Musselmen, but also Nestorian Christians, idol worshippers from far India, fire worshippers and Jews. Caravans rest and recover here on their long journeys. There are secure rooms and compounds to store goods and protect horses and camels of travelers. It is the quality and security of these caravansarai to which Bukhara owes its wealth and fame. The evenings are very fine when breezes arise from the waters.

Then there is music and dance, roast lamb and mutton, large round breads, yogurt and large pots of "plov" (a feast meal of the grain rice and vegetables). They have a wonderful and monstrous fruit, being up to the size of a two-year old child, called melon, with delicate flesh. Sadly, they have nothing whatsoever in the way of meads or beers.

Bukhara is home to many saints of the Musselman religion. It is a center for their priests and has many open courtyard monasteries, which they call "medressas." Here there are great number of scholars, calligraphers and bookbinders. Indeed their drawings are most wonderful, though the script is completely illegible. They have a material we do not have for their manuscripts and scrolls said not to be vellum, but I could not understand what this material was nor how it was made. They have many wise men who watch the stars and are said to foretell events by this method. The city is such a center of learning throughout the land it is said, "Elsewhere light radiates from heaven unto earth, in holy Bukhara it radiates upwards to illuminate heaven."

It is something of a miracle that the city survives at all. Ghengis Khan himself besieged and stormed this place not more than two generations ago. It is said of the battle, "The forces of Ghengis Khan proceeded to encamp before the citadel and his troops were more numerous than ants or locusts, being a multitude beyond estimation or computation. Detachment after detachment arrived each like a billowing sea, and encamped round the town. At sunrise an army of 20,000 defenders issued form the citadel. The Mongol army fell upon them and left no trace of them. Wise men say that when it is impossible to flee from destruction in any manner, then patience is the best and wisest course. On the morning of the following day when from the reflection of the sun the plain seemed to be a tray filled with blood, the people of Bukhara opened the gates and closed the door to strife and battle. Ghengis Khan then entered the city and stabled his horses in the mosque."

That he spared much of the citadel and especially the tower is another tale worth telling. Kalon Minaret, the name meaning "Great Tower," is one of the wonders of the world. It is, without doubt the tallest building in the world east of Saint Sophia's in Constantinople. One can climb the long dark spiral stair to its summit and from there look out and see caravans approaching, even more than a day's journey distant. After the Mongol Horde took the city Ghengis Khan rode in to inspect it. Being close to the tower, he looked up craning to see its apex. Thus looking his hat fell off. He had to dismount and bent to retrieve his hat. Then he said, "As this tower has done what no man could, in making me bow before it, I will spare it." And he did.

History of Hungary

By Zofia Borek