All About Music
80s music and a whole lotta black: my meeting with The Louisville Revenant Appreciation Society
By Dan Klefstad
The atmosphere was what you’d expect: muted lighting, clothes the color of a moonless night, and cocktails with fog rising from each glass. One pleasant surprise was a low fi recording of Siouxsie & the Banshees that I’d swear was from a cassette tape.
“So, you’re that author.” Lilith Lamia, president of the LRAS, greeted me. Her silver hair stood out radiantly against her off-the-shoulder gown and choker with dangling daggers. She glanced at my oxford shirt, blue jeans, and penny loafers. “Darling,” she turned to her date clad in a leather vest and ripped jeans. “This is how normal people look. Don’t ever be like that.” Her gaze returned to me. “Welcome, and thanks for coming.” Then she resumed talking with Mr. Cougar Bait.
Normal people? I don’t think a normal person would write a vampire novel like mine. And thanks for coming? My invitation did not include a prompt to RSVP or even a chance to reschedule. I was given a date, time, and place — that’s all. However, since I’d just moved to town and knew nobody, I was kind of grateful to receive this summons:
To the author of "Fiona's Guardians", Mr. Dan Klefstad:
Greetings. the Louisville Revenant Appreciation Society invites you to meet our members next Friday at Art Sanctuary on S. Shelby Street No. 1433. Wine and light hors d'oevres will be served starting at 8 p.m. We look forward to meeting you.
Yours darkly,
LRAS President, Lilith Lamia
A tap on the shoulder. I turned to see a young woman with a face the shape and color of a full moon, eyes painted like Tutankhamun’s. She extended a hand that was unexpectedly warm. “I’m Morgana Ruthven, secretary of this society. I’m reading your novel for Book Club. It’s nice to meet you.”
I’m reading your novel. Many authors find these words panic-inducing, but I managed a decent deflection. “So, tell me about the book club. How many members do you have?”
“We’re up to ten, I think.” She inhaled excitedly. “This month it’s Dracula The Un-Dead, by Dacre Stoker. Do you know it?”
Dacre Stoker, for the uninitiated, is the great grandnephew of Bram Stoker, author of the original Dracula. Dacre’s book has its fans but lately it’s been pummeled on Goodreads, resulting in a 3.14 rating. My novel is faring much better, at least right now, so I’m looking forward to the verdict from Morgana and her fellow readers.
“Yes, it’s on my list,” I half-lied. I mean, I intend to read the book but haven’t ordered it yet. “So, when are you all discussing my book?”
“Let’s ask the selection mistress.” Morgana reached over to pull another young woman toward us. “Anna Boleyn, meet Dan Kelfstad, author of Fiona’s Guardians.”
Most people mispronounce my last name. At least she got the book’s title right.
“Oh hello, Mr. 4.34 on Goodreads and…” A long curved fingernail commanded silence while she checked her phone. “4.7 on Amazon. You got some nice reviews there.”
I accepted the compliment but here I’ll reveal why Goodreads ratings and Amazon stars are so misleading. The law of averages guarantees that the more readers rate your book, the more that rating will decline. It’s only a matter of time before my novel descends into Dacre Stoker territory. Anyway, back to my conversation with the selection mistress. I felt I needed to ramp up to the “My book, when?” question:
“So how do you choose books? Do you poll the members to see what they like?”
Both women rolled their eyes. “Oh no.” Anna laughed. “You do not want the group involved at this stage. I just look for new titles, or recent ones, and check the reviews. That way, if anyone complains, I can say, ‘But this one got five stars.’”
Morgana chimed in: “And then follow up with, ‘Maybe you’re the problem. Don’t like it, here’s a glass of wine. Now shut up.’”
I waited for their laughter to recede before speaking again. “So, Anna, if any members have questions about my book, I’ll be happy to answer them in person or on Zoom. Just give me a date.”
“No authors allowed.” Anna’s curved nail sliced the air between us. “It’s really for the best. We’re a tough group.”
“But I’m here now. What’s the difference?”
Morgana put a hand on my arm. “Here, you’re a civilian. It’s a party and you’re our guest.”
Anna grabbed two smoking drinks from a passing tray. “Book Club is a lion’s den and everyone’s hungry for meat.” She handed a drink to me. “You’re safe here.”
“Not for long.” Morgana nodded toward their left. “Here comes the treasurer.”
“Mr. Klefstad, very nice to meet you.” I shook hands with a portly fellow wearing a top hat, three-piece suit, and monocle. “Bruno Kinski. I collect the money for this group. Want to become a member?”
“He can’t — not yet anyway.” Anna intervened. “We’re reading his novel for Book Club.”
“Ah yes, a pesky rule enacted by my predecessor.” Bruno wriggled his mustache. “I guess it keeps you girls honest, eh?”
Anna wrapped an arm around Morgana. “We don’t need a rule to keep us honest.”
“We’re very free about our opinions.” Morgana agreed.
Just then, everyone turned their head as the president, Lilith Lamia, queen-waved to the group and placed her hand inside her date’s bicep. Both headed for the door as Bauhaus played “She’s in Parties.” Morgana and Anna exchanged glances, and this seemed a good time to ask Anna when my book will be up for discussion. But, alas. Both quickly made for the deejay, a non-binary 20-something with bright green hair sticking out around their headphones. The skeleton on their t shirt bent sideways as they leaned down and exposed an ear. Finally, they nodded and the “girls,” as Bruno called them, moved to the center of the room and danced to “Run Away from the Sun,” by Ville Valo.
I’ll admit, I prefer the older tracks but it was nice to see gothic culture, in all its shades, flourishing in my new hometown. To be clear, I have no plans to change my clothing or hairstyle. But I’m with them in spirit — that gloomy, adumbral, give-no-fucks kind of spirit. Also, from a marketing perspective, this is my target audience. So, like a revenant, I shall return hungry for input.
Here’s hoping the next generation keeps my Goodreads rating higher than Dacre Stoker’s and that of his great-granduncle Bram. But if not, I’ll take solace in knowing I’m in very good company.
Dan Klefstad is a longtime radio host and newscaster. His latest novel, Fiona’s Guardians, is about humans who work for a beautiful vampire named Fiona. The book was adapted by Artists’ Ensemble Theater for their Mysterious Journey podcast. A short film adaptation is currently in pre-production with a release date in 2024.
Dan is currently working on the sequel. He writes in Louisville, Kentucky.
May 2023
The Mystery of the Ages
THE AGE OF CELEBRATION
The Renaissance feast examined by Charles E.J. Moulton
Abstract:
More than in any other era, we find that the aim of the Renaissance is to redefine humanity, rediscover the human experience. Thereby, knowledge and gluttony walks hand in hand here. Accordingly, celeberation, selfdiscovery and knowledge walk coincide during the 16th century Renaissance. High culture, humanism, literature and architecture along with the excessive enjoyment of food and beauty signifies the era, but always in connection with selfdiscovery. Man rediscovered himself, his passion was a reaction due to medieval ascetism.
He could dwell in his own glory. Not only the sacred word was important. Creativity was, as well. Moreover, so was folly.
“Folly, at the right time, is the greatest wisdom!”
The Renaissance Man was a celebratory individual.
He was an intellectual, a gourmand as well as a gourmet.
He was self-confident, passionate, brash, eager to learn and eager to drink as many pints of mead as possible.
He was one of a kind, a Uomo Universale.
Full Text:
The Boboli Gardens, in the back of the Pitti Palace, has a statue of court dwarf Pietro Barbuino riding naked on a turtle. This statue could function as the representative piece for this time: it is honourable and yet gluttonous. In your mind’s eye, you see the ladies of the manor giggling as the little man parades naked about the grounds, shouting his magnificent ruler’s words of human passion across the Tuscany plains.
Pietro is overweight. He is cocky, brash, artistic and self confident.
In spite of all this arrogance, the garden in Tuscany is an oasis, a green heaven. Fountains with marvellously handcrafted statues appear in one corner and exquisite grottos with gorgeous statuettes appear in the next. You see the nympheum, wander off to the amphitheatre and finish off your tour with a peek at the Egyptian obelisk.
The main seat of the grand dukes of Tuscany, the Medici family’s pride and joy, is the Italian Renaissance formed in stone and marble. The symbol of the grandeur of the 16th century awakening is related to Lorenzo de Medici’s statement “Facciamo festa tuttavia”, an ancient version of the modern phrase: “It’s party time!”
“Folly, at the right time, is the greatest wisdom!”
None other than the uptight Augsburg bank entrepreneur Jakob Fugger uttered these words. His house welcomed the posh aristocratic elite of Europe, who felt most welcome to accept his invitations to a feast in one of his houses. Leaving assets totalling 3 000 058 guilders when he died, he had become rich, partly because he knew how to represent his clients well and keep them happy.
The Swedish king Gustav Vasa ascended his throne in 1523, receiving help from his old home town Lübeck and, perhaps even, from the Fugger family. Vasa was as ambitious, serious and indulgent as Fugger. They have that in common.
Vasa was no stranger to folly, either, and great Renaissance folly it was, too, that he enjoyed. In his 31st year of royal reign, Vasa married his 3rd wife, the 40 years younger Katharina Stenbock, who hid in the barn upon hearing the king arrive to ask of her father’s allowance to marry her. Eventually, Stenbock had to consent in marrying the old man against her own will. Eight years later, she became the “royal widow of the nation” and remained so until her death at age 85.
The wedding in 1552 and the subsequent celebration, held in Vadstena, was grand enough, to be sure. The honeymoon, however, celebrated in Kalmar on the east coast, literally wallowed in wealth. This castle, Vasa’s pride and joy and a coastal guarding manifest, was Sweden’s last bastion before the Danish border and perfect for a Renaissance honeymoon.
In the latter part of that year of 1552 A.D., the Swedish king arrived with a total 365 courtiers. The king, his young wife and their families brought other guests along for the party. Riding in and out in through the gates over a course of three months, the revellers drank a total of 228 000 litres (60 231 US gallons) of German beer, shipped in to Kalmar from the continent. The inventory list of the royal kitchen that year reads like the annual report of a major modern franchise: hundreds of cows, hundreds of pigs, tons of fish, ostrage, swans, peacock and lamb all kept the large palace kitchen, one storey below the banquet hall, working day and night to keep the aristocrats happy.
Calculating the intake of each guest, dividing actual numbers from the inventory with the number of people present during these twelve weeks, the daily result is an approximate seven gallons of beer and two dozen courses a person. Such an astronomical absorption is mindboggling. One can’t help but wonder how such a thing is possible.
Other Renaissance feasts can top that, though. There are records of German feasts at the time where the aristocrats enjoyed a veritable 42 courses a day per person.
Can a human stomach survive such gluttony?
The answer, my friend, is not blowing in the wind. Bob Dylan might even agree to that. We find it in a form of gastronomic recycling. As a trilingual tourguide at Kalmar Castle during the 1990’s, I finished off every tour with an anecdote that divided the attention of the ordinary tourist into two categories: the people who loved hearing the story and the people who absolutely did not love hearing it.
When the aristocratic belly proved itself too dense for 16th century comfort, poisonous herbs and feathers could be used as tittilation to tickle out digesting food. The person in question walked away from the table into the next room, where pigs were ready to receive vomited cuisine as nutrition. The royal belly was now open for refreshment and new comestible pork was provided to the royal kitchen, pork that had been fed with aristocratic vomit. Recycling, as stated, is nothing new to us humans.
At the same time, there was international diplomacy at work. German girls would be invited just to meet Swedish dukes. Maybe a Spanish prince came along just to have a look at the king’s pretty daughter. Over a century later, Louis XIV arranged farting contests during his soirées. The aristocrats would listen to music by Jean Baptiste Lully while engaging in flatulent exposure. And, yes: the king did have another girl every night.
That, of course, had consequences: King August of Saxony had 365 children.
The disadvantageous public result of all that folly was, it must be stated, the French Revolution. Some would say, such excess was proverbial chess in action. Members of high society met to “network”, as coin a current phrase.
In the 1640’s, Vasa’s great-grandchild Queen Christina’s spent 12 percent of her state-expenses on “Stately Representation.” It must be stressed, though, that Christina had little or no interest in sex. She was an all-around intellectual girl. Very few Queens in history can present such knowledge and linguistic versatility. Her upbringing had been extremely scholastic and it was much thanks to her father, the sturdy Swedish hothead Gustaf II Adolphus, that she received the education of a king: riding, hunting, combat, languages, science and the arts. Even renowned philosopher René Descartes joined her in Sweden for intellectual discussion.
In secret, the daughter of the protestant king Gustaf II Adolphus invited Italian and Spanish delegates to help her plan her upcoming abdication and conversion to Catholicism in 1654. It all happened over large mugs of mead and plates filled with grapes and turkey.
The motto? Conspire while you digest.
Elizabeth I of England, a generation older than Christina. was as adamant in her beliefs. Renowned for her accountability, she wrote down every penny spent on a royal feast. That did, however, not mean that she wasn’t as excessive. She was known to stay up all night, watching bulls and bear and dogs fight. Parliament attempted to forbid bear-baiting on Sundays, but Queen Elizabeth overruled them.
England’s active royal merrymaking probably included William Shakespeare, who spent his most active years writing and performing plays that honored Queen Elizabeth I. The actors, used to entertaining farmers and common citizens, were now elevated to that of royal performers. Theatre became a very popular leisure actvity, one based on Greek tradition with strong influences from the mystery plays of the middle ages. It can be assumed, also, that Shakespeare’s colleague John Dowland was inspired by early music when he wrote his “Third Book of Songs” for Denmark’s King Christian in 1603, two years after the initial premiere of “Hamlet.”
The era of the Renaissance gave birth to many artistic styles. Among them, we find ballet. The Sun King Louis XIV participated in performances with a tradition based on dances from the Italian Renaissance. This result was the foundation of Academie Royale de Danse in 1661. The musical piece Dafne, written by Jacopo Peri in 1597 for the Palazzo Corsi, inspired Claudio Monteverdi in 1607 to compose what is considered the first opera: Orfeo. Baroque art would be non-existant if it were not for the crafts of the 16th century.
Artists, it can also be said, rarely found themselves sticking to one genre. The term “Renaissance Man”, coined after da Vinci’s Vetruvian Uomo Universale, has its origin here: it describes a person who is at home in a thousand intellectual fields. Leonardo da Vinci was one, Sir Isaac Newton was one and Sir Peter Ustinov was one, and they are all to be admired.
Leonardo da Vinci played the flute, as well, and his serenades on the lyre at many gatherings were enjoyed by the elite. He was reputed to have played for Ludovico Sforza, the Regent of Milan. Calling music “the sister of painting”, he was like many of his Renaissance peers: artistic in every way. Certainly, even artists such as Raphael, Michelangelo, da Vinci, Titian and Caravaggio spent their time conversing with Florentine patrons and Vatican popes over jars of mead and dishes of oysters in milk or beef basted in rose-water, listening to these compositions and attending these parties. Jacopo Peri’s piece is also considered to be a forerunner of Monteverdi’s 1607 first opera Orfeo. Artists were hired to create work for royal institutions and here art and politics meet in a veritable marital ceremony of delight.
Much of the art that was back then was indeed created to glorify the rich and famous. These orders, made by patrons in ballrooms during a pavane, a gavotte or an estampie on a quill plucked lute accompanied by a rebec or an aulos, could not have become what they are today without the coonoisseurs who spent their lives regarding them with respect. The fuel that keeps art alive can be found within the heart of every individual. The royals just had the money to spend on making the art become true reality.
Pietro Monte also taught da Vinci how to play darts at an early age. It is not impossible that da Vinci came in contact with the martial artform. Diego de Valera wrote the oldest surviving manual on fencing, a 15th century work labelled Treatise on Arms. The sport thereby remained a major attraction at feasts and game festivals throughout the Renaissance, which leads us to combat.
The bloodier activities of the era were witnessed, among others, by a gentleman by the name of Herberstein. He describes his trip to Russia with colorful tales of young men wrestling each other to the ground, kicking and beating each other bloody in games where every trick was allowed with even mortal casualties. Bullfighting accidents became so frequent, that Pope Pius V proclaimed it forbidden in 1567.
The same can be said for the tobogganing, or sleighriding, competitions of Zürich, which were classified as too dangerous and categorically prohibited.
The most barbaric of all of these activities were the public executions. In fact, these barbaric events were even considered the high point of entertainment throughout the Renaissance. Coming early to get a good seat was a necessity, mostly because of the sheer mass of people attending such gatherings.
We find a more distinguished pasttime in the art of horseback-riding. The passion for this sport eventually created the Spanish Riding School in Vienna, Austria, an establishment that now has 440 years of history to look back upon.
The political ambitions of the arrangers of the Renaissance feast can be seen in the many accounts of festivities created to honor an event, a king, a liaison or a political ally. To that, we include matrimony. Marriage was, saving the one or two happy cases of true love, merely a political game. Love played no vital role in an aristocratic liaison and was sometimes seen merely as a symbiosis of forces. It was not uncommon that the newlyweds saw each other for the first time on the wedding day.
Lucrezia Borgia (1480 – 1519) was, at age 10, given away to the 25-early-old Don Cherubino de Centelles, a Spanish nobleman. Lucrezia lost her virginity to him, but that couldn’t hide that the relationship was doomed to fail. Renaissance matchmaking was not always a successful enterprise.
What about the institutions that made the holy matrimony possible?
Convents create a link between the aristocracy and the people. Here, funnily enough, we find both the sacred and the profane. Monks, nuns and clerics were educated and literate scribes that taught the people about religion and artistic skills such a writing and singing, but convents also had breweries, they danced, enjoyed good food and had secret affairs on the side. Grand feasts were common also in convents, sometimes with feasting going on until the early morning hours.
When the dancing and the devouring ended, who was left to clean up the mess? Not Rodrigo Borgia, not Gustav Vasa, Lorenzo de Medici, Jakob Fugger nor Queen Elizabeth I. The ordinary man was allowed to stand and watch the aristocrats eat, who in turn made it a sport to throw food at him. In more cases than one, the servants were allowed the left-overs. Sometimes, the left-overs were given the beggars. But the common man had to clean up.
The hand that gave could also take away. Gustav Vasa toured all of his renovated Vasa-castles, collecting the natural taxes given to him by his people. This kind of behavior caused ordinary people like Nils Dacke, a kind of a Swedish Robespierre, to revolt against the crown. This time, the ordinary man lost, his head speared on a pole as a warning.
Renaissance usurpers discovered the status of owning a black slave, thanks to Columbus and Vasco da Gama. The Lisbon court of Queen Catherine of Austria was one of the many Renaissance communities that sported these live imports from exotic places. In the second half of the sixteenth century, obligatory baptism of the slaves was widespread. The focus on newly discovered places like Africa became obvious in the arts as well. St. Maurice and the Theban Legion from 1515 or Annibale Carracci’s Portrait of a Black Servant from 1580 are two examples of Africans in established art.
The black servants may have crisscrossed the palaces, but the ordinary citizens kept to themselves. Forks may have travelled from the Byzantine empire in the 11th century to arrive by the year 1600 in England, but the common man usually used spoons and bowls. And so, history took its own course and people made their own choices. An 11th century priest even complained that God had given us the natural table utensils named fingers, so, in quote, “why on Earth should we should we use something as trivial as forks?”
In other ways, as well, the classes differed in the way they baked their cakes and bread. In the poor man’s world, bread could contain wheat bran, barley, grain, beans or even chestnuts. Bread, as such, was actually long a substitute for the plate and any other food served was placed upon it during a meal. Beef was the most common meat, while rice remained more or less rich man’s food.
In many cases, one sees a more healthy diet among the more common folk. Onions, garlic, beans, cabbage and rye bread played a more important role in the lives of poorer families. High class products were peaches, melons and white bread. Imported spices, such as cinnamon, nutmeg and even sugar, were used in cooking. Of course, these spices increased in value the higher up the social ladder one climbed.
Columbus’ famous journeys to the new world also brought many new things to Europe. Chili-peppers, tomatoes, corn, cocoa, squash and beans, to name a few, were New World imports. The potato made its triumphant march through Europe, finally arriving in Scandinavia by the beginning of the 18th century with the help of a certain Mr. Jonas Alströmmer in Alingsås.
Food also played an important part in the Florentine Carnival. When the 40-day period of Lent was on its way, citizens had the possibility to wallow in bliss for a short time. The Spirit of Carnival, a fat man carrying sausages, battled The Spirit of Lent, a thin woman carrying a herring.
Pies and ragout were served on the street by the traiteur, a caterer, who also made it possible for the guest to eat his food on the spot. Bakers were among the first to serve their goods on the street. They were professionals with a long education and very sought after craftsmen.
Inn and taverns have existed for thousands of years, but the term Restaurant arose in the 18th century through the initiative of a man name Boulanger. Perhaps it did so through the influence of the Renaissance traiteur, who was a kind of travelling fast-food merchant. Boulanger’s promotion consisted of offering troubled stomachs restoration through a dish laballed Restaurants, which were pieces of meat with dough drenched in gravy.
In some Renaissance households, the turkey replaced other meat and stiffened plum porridge would turn into the flaming Christmas pudding in 1670. Maybe the pudding was a reaction to Oliver Cromwell’s 13 year English Christmas ban, that was lifted when the puritans lost that year. All these baroque and rococo traditions find their influential origin in 16th century customs.
The Renaissance also gave birth to two Christmas traditions: in 1521, the first English Christmas-Carol collection was published. In 1531, then, the first published mention of a Christmas tree in Germany.
The modern day mind-map of the season appeared in small spurts, as well. The Holy Days and Feasting Act of 1551 clearly states, “that every citizen must attend a Christian church service on Christmas Day and must not use any kind of vehicle to get there.”
The Renaissance Man was not only a strolling man, who walked to church on Christmas Day, he was also a celebratory individual. He was an intellectual, a gourmand as well as a gourmet. He was self-confident, passionate, brash, eager to learn and eager to drink as many pints of mead as possible.
He was one of a kind, a Uomo Universale.
The Renaissance is the also the great-grandmother of our modern world, with its free vote and ability to voluntarily express emotion. History is man’s memory. Without it, we are intellectually poorer. It should therefore be considered a duty to study the past accordingly.
Walking around in the Boboli Gardens of the Pitti Palace, giggling as we see court dwarf Pietro Barbuino ride on his turtle, it becomes obvious that the Renaissance was both sacred and blasphemous. We are left with a suprising thought: the Renaissance Man was actually an extravagant saint.
But, then again, aren’t we all?
References:
1. Hofrén, Manne, 1961: Historieglimtar från Kalmar Slott – Tidningen Barometern
2. Larsson, Olle/ Marklund, Anders, 2008: Sveriges Historia – Historiska Media
3. Andersson, Stina/ Ivansson, Elisabeth, 2008: Boken om historia 2: Vasatiden – Svenska
4. Hedberg, Jonas, 1985: Yngre Vasatiden – Militärhistoriska Förlaget
5. Larsson, Lars-Olf, 2005: Gustav Vasa – Nordstedts
6. Nordstrom, Byron J., 2002: The History of Sweden – Greenwood Press
7. Kent, Neil, 2008: A Concise History of Sweden – Cambridge University Press
8. Grimberg, Carl, 2008: A History of Sweden – Dodo Press
9. Dunham, S.A., 2013: History of Denmark, Sweden and Norway – Pergamum
10. Strindberg, A., 1959: The Vasa Trilogy – University of Washington Press
11. Burckhardt, J., 1990: The Civilization of the Renaissance in Italy – Penguin Classics
12. Durant, W., 1980: The Renaissance – Simon & Schuster
13. Plumb. J.H., 1961: The Italian Renaissance – Mariner Books
14. Brotton, Jerry, 2003: The Ranaissance Bazaar – Oxford University Press
15. Cronin, Vincent, 1992: The Florentine Renaissance - Pimlico
Weblinks:
1. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Catherine_Stenbock
2. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stockholm_Bloodbath
3. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Catherine_of_Saxe-Lauenburg
4. http://www.britannica.com/EBchecked/topic/249778/Gustav-I-Vasa
5. http://sv.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gustav_Vasa
6. http://www.sanomautbildning.se/upload/474/KollpaVasatidenBasAktExempel1.pdf
7. http://sv.wikipedia.org/wiki/Johan_III
8. http://sv.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cecilia_Vasa
9. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Margaret_Leijonhufvud
10. http://www.historiesajten.se/print.asp?id=234
11. http://www.der-neue-merker.eu/vadstena-schweden-enrico-di-borgogna-von-gaetano-donizetti
12. http://schweden-forum.blogspot.de/2011/07/katarina-stenbock-und-der-schwedische.html
13.http://sverigesradio.se/sida/gruppsida.aspx?programid=3097&grupp=10188&artikel=3509532
14. http://www.all-about-renaissance-faires.com/food/renaissance_foods.htm
http://varldenshistoria.se/anders-houmoller-thomsen-och-jeppe-nybye/gratande-drottning-soeker-silverskatt-0
15. http://www.legimus.se/work/details?workId=00001052-e51e-4960-a9b6-9f153066d617
http://riksarkivet.se/
16. http://www.godecookery.com/trscript/trscript.html
17. http://www.homemade-dessert-recipes.com/renaissance-dessert-recipes.html
18. http://www.renfaire.com/Food/
19. http://www.academiabarilla.com/the-italian-food-academy/centuries-dining/food-renaissance.aspx
Charles E.J. Moulton is a true Renaissance-Man: actor, singer, author, painter, teacher, historian, chorus master and public speaker. He is a studied historian and has worked as a trilingual tourguide at Kalmar Castle.