Object lessons in commercial medievalism - or, Adventures in medievalism, part 5

 
I use this particular blogpost series, Adventures in medievalism, to examine some of the many forms of medievalism that can be found in modern society. Medievalism, as I most commonly use it, means the deliberate use of the medieval past for a particular purpose. Moreover, that use represents a discontinuity with the past, and the use is based on the idea that the Middle Ages is notably different - that it is a chronological other. 

This blogpost is the result of some encounters I have had during my travels this past month, which reminded me that one of the most prevalent forms of medievalism today is commercial medievalism, namely the use of the past for commercial purposes. The past sells, and various commercial actors have understood this fact, and they have therefore made their advertisements or even their products in such a way that it appeals to people's fascination with history. 

Medievalism consists of various stock figures that represent the Middle Ages and that serve as a kind of shorthand for the past, evoking a historical period in a simple and effective way. One of the most widely used stock figures is the Viking, and because of the Viking's ubiquity in popular culture, it has also become ubiquitous in commerce. I was reminded of this ubiquity several times during my recent travels. 

One of the least surprising uses of the Viking in commercial medievalism is in Scandinavian souvenirs. All kinds of things are being sold through the appeal and the recognisability of the Viking, and apparently it works. For a medievalist scholar, however, the manifestations of commercial medievalism, i.e., the objects that are being sold, as well as their form and design, can often reach parodic levels. During a recent stay at Oslo airport, for instance, I encountered a couple of such unintentionally parodic, ridiculous souvenirs, and I must admit that I was not prepared for just how risible I found these particular objects to be. The figure of a strong, bearded, manly Viking with the requisite unhistorical horned helmet, was used to decorate a key chain and a bottle opener cum fridge magnet. The violent, warlike aspect of the Viking is used in different ways in both these object. One Viking is heavily armed and appeals perhaps more to a younger audience, children still playing war with each other or with toy figurines. The other has muscular arms and flowing blonde hair, and is likely to be aimed more at adults, mainly adult men who want themselves to be muscular with flowing blonde hair. In both cases, the iconography of the Viking is used to appeal to the prospective buyer's desire to emulate - whether in play or in reality - the figure of the past.   

Encountering Vikings as an avatar of commercial medievalism is common enough in Norway - and I would say depressingly so - but since the Viking is a global figure in modern popular culture, the use of the Viking for commercial purposes can also appear in rather unexpected places. One such place is Toledo, where I encountered a shop of local delicacies which advertised mead through the stock figure of the Viking. The Viking, again with the unhistorical horned helmed, was depicted leaning on his axe and raising a drinking horn of mead, with the text of the poster saying "Mead - the Viking beer". 

That Vikings are used to sell mead is not surprising - after all, mead is famous as a drink widely used by the Norse in the Middle Ages. What was surprising in this case, however, was that the Vikings never went to Toledo, and mead can hardly be said to be a traditional delicacy of Toledo. While we do know that Norse raiders attacked Spanish shores on several occasions, and that Norse travellers often stopped in Iberia, they mainly stayed along the coast or, in case of pilgrims to Santiago de Compostela, went overland along the northern route. Toledo, situated almost in the middle of the Iberian pensinsula, whose only waterway is the beautiful but very shallow river Tajo, would be beyond the reach of Vikings. However, medievalism has very little to do with the actual past, and since Vikings are so widely known, this particular shop has decided to use a stereotypical Viking to sell their goods. 

The case of the Toledan Viking was particularly amusing to me, as this was the first time I had learned the Spanish word for mead, "hidromiel" or "water-honey", and later that day I was asked by a Mexican friend in Madrid what hidromiel was. I was only able to explain the concept thanks to the Toledan Viking. 

Vikings are used to sell things because Vikings themselves sell. Modern popular culture and people's fascination with the past both contribute to the enduring appeal of Vikings. These object lessons are just a few, but they highlight some of the key aspects of commercial medievalism: a clear aim at an audience (whether children or adults), the use of recognisable features (the horned helmet, the axe, the beard), and the complete irrelevance of whether the use of the Viking has any historical grounding. Recognising these aspects of commercial medievalism is important in helping us understand how this form of medievalism works, and why it can work all over the world. 


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Similar blogposts: 


Adventures in medievalism, part 1 

Adventures in medievalism, part 2 

Adventures in medievalism, part 3 

Adventures in medievalism, part 4