This is interesting - a documentary made in 1990 about the last trains to go across Canada before they shut off the Sydney, Cape Breton route, and other routes inland. It’s made by an Australian, and as they go through the Maritimes he’s surprisingly (if dishearteningly) on point. Mom took my older sister and I on the train that year, before they shut down the line, so we’d be able to experience something that was disappearing.
Bonus: he meets Pierre Berton!! AND his bowtie
Sts Stephen and Christopher
1700s Unknown Greek painter
Egg tempera on oak, 21 x 16 cm
Ikonen-Museum, RecklinghausenI love the occasional cynocephalus images of St. Christopher one runs across, terribly heterodox, but oh so awesome.
In the Eastern Orthodox Church, certain icons covertly identify Saint Christopher with the head of a dog. The background to the dog-headed Christopher is laid in the reign of the Emperor Diocletian, when a man named Reprebus, Rebrebus or Reprobus (the “reprobate” or “scoundrel”) was captured in combat against tribes dwelling to the west of Egypt in Cyrenaica. To the unit of soldiers, according to the hagiographic narrative, was assigned the name numerus Marmaritarum or “Unit of the Marmaritae”, which suggests an otherwise-unidentified “Marmaritae” (perhaps the same as the Marmaricae Berber tribe of Cyrenaica). He was reported to be of enormous size, with the head of a dog instead of a man, apparently a characteristic of the Marmaritae. This Byzantine depiction of St. Christopher as dog-headed resulted from their misinterpretation of the Latin term Cananeus to read canineus, that is, “canine.”
The German bishop and poet Walter of Speyer portrayed St. Christopher as a giant of a cynocephalic species in the land of the Chananeans (the “canines” of Canaan in the New Testament) who ate human flesh and barked. Eventually, Christopher met the Christ child, regretted his former behavior, and received baptism. He, too, was rewarded with a human appearance, whereupon he devoted his life to Christian service and became an athlete of God, one of the soldier-saints
Dance Cards
Originating in the 18th century, but growing in popularity throughout the 19th century, dance cards were small, decorative notebooks used by women to record the names of the men who had promised them a dance at a ball.
As can be seen in the fan-shaped example above, the names of each dance that will be played at the event are noted already on the blue “Dances” sections, whilst the “Engagements”, or the names of the men with whom the woman intends to dance, are marked in ink beside them. Apparently the men would just have to remember by heart with whom they had promised the dance.
The dance cards came in particularly handy at the massive 19th century balls of Vienna, especially those during Fasching, just before Lent. Most dance cards incorporated a pencil and a cord to attach to the woman’s wrist, however, more elaborate dance cards of the elite were sometimes decorated with precious metals or jewels.
(via mrsasimov)
- Derby Mercury, Friday 10th July 1752
