Monday 15 December 2014

Authorship, proof, and basic assumptions in HEMA

This post is intended as a kind of follow-up to my earlier post on my research into the link between historical fencing and esoteric practices. As that post was of a more general, introductory nature, I would like to devote this and a few other, future post to some specific examples of what my research entails.
One of the main difficulties I encounter when trying to write about my findings is substantiating my claims. A lot of things that by now have become basic assumptions for me, may actually be incorrect, and need to be verifiable by my audience, and in order to do so I need to provide a thorough description of my reasoning and the way I approached my sources. In this post, I like to take a stab at doing that with one of my basic assumptions.

This basic assumption concerns the manuscript Hs. 3227a, also known as the Codex Döbringer. The reason for it being called the Codex Döbringer is part of another basic assumption as to the authorship of the book, but that is a can of worms I'll try to crack some other time. I do, however, want to discuss elements of the authorship of the manuscript. I believe that whoever composed the manuscript, while copying numerous texts from other books, did not copy the Glosse of Liechtenauer's Zettel contained in the book, but was the Glosse's original author.

There are several reasons why I believe this to be the case. The first reason concerns the use of personal pronouns, the second reason concerns the links to other texts in the manuscript, and the third reason concerns the structuring of the contents of the manuscript. The very nature of the book also plays a role, albeit only tangentially.

First, the use of personal pronouns. Usually, a Fechtbuch is prefaced with some kind of introduction, explaining the nature of the Glosse, but also quite often an explanation of the identity of the author of the Glosse. Because these texts are usually found in compilations by third parties, the authors are usually referred to in the third person. The use of the first person, where the writer of the maniscript refers to themselves in the first person, is exceedingly rare. in the few examples of it being done, such as in the works of Fiore and Talhoffer, it is clear that the first person is used because the author is referring to themselves. There is one example, in the Hans Medel Fechtbuch, where the copyist is referring to themselves in the first person, but here the scribe is quite careful to distinguish between themselves and the author of the text, Hans Medel. The Glosse in the Codex Döbringer, while being anonymous, does contain sections where the first person is used, while no reference is made in the third person to an author.

My second indication concerned the link between the Glosse and another anonymous text concerning fencing in the manuscript. This essay, if you will, on the general principles of fencing, precedes the Glosse. It is, however, quite similar in style, as well as in the nature of the principles being explained. On multiple occasions, emphasis is made on what the author considers the foundation of longsword fencing, which he considers point-centric, lean and simple, and devoid of any superfluous techniques. The phrasing of these principles is so similar, that I would be very surprised if the author of the essay preceding the Glosse and the author of the Glosse were not the same person.

My main reason for thinking that the writer and original owner of the Codex Döbringer is also the author of the Glosse, however, lies in the way that the book is structured. The martial arts sections seem to be structured with the intent of providing a complete system. The Glosse is the meat and potatoes of the treatise, to be sure, but it is preceded by a foreword of sorts; it is summarized; and, it is followed by 'chapters' on a variety of weapons and their use, all described as deriving from Liechtenauer's system. Strangely, though, interspersed between these chapters are texts on a variety of other subjects, which ostensibly have nothing to do with martial arts. On top of this, many of the chapters seem unfinished, some even breaking off mid-sentence. It's almost as if the author decided to write a general treatise on martial arts, set aside a bunch of pages for each chapter, and got quite far into his first draft of the manuscript, but never quite got around to finishing the entire thing. But, books are expensive, and there's no sense in wasting a good notebook, so the empty pages were used for random notes from other books that interested the author.

This last bit is obviously merely a hypothesis, and a lot of the evidence is circumstantial, but I do believe I made a strong case for it. The above points are the main pieces of evidence I have, but there are lots of other little bits that pointed me in the direction. At the very least, the possibility that a professional scribe wrote the manuscript for a client can be excluded. For example, the book is quite small, pretty much the size of a modern Moleskine notebook. Also, while the handwriting is the same throughout the book, there are indications, such as in the color of the inks used, that the author went back and forth within the book, adding sections within paragraphs perhaps days or weeks later. Not only that, but a lot of sections are striked through, to be rewritten or discarded.

All these little things give me small indications as to the identity and perhaps even character of the author of the manuscript. Since the manuscript is anonymous, this is all I have to go on, but now, aside from knowing his interests through what he chose to copy from other books, I can also say with some confidence I have access to his original thoughts.

Friday 14 November 2014

Swords and Sorcery: my research

This post is mainly meant to summarize the current state of my research on the link between medieval martial practice and esotericism. I want to use it for both selfish and generally informative purposes. Selfish, because I can use it to get my current lines of thought in a little more coherent shape, and maybe build a base to springboard my thesis off of. Generally informative, because I believe my topic is a genuinely interesting side of HEMA research, and underdeveloped topic within a deeply underdeveloped academic genre.

My interest in the link between HEMA and esotericism began when I had to pick a topic for my Bachelor's Thesis in Religious Studies. I figured I'd pick a topic that involves something you like investing large amounts of time in, so swordfighting wasn't that far around the corner. The main guideline for the thesis topic was that it had to have some kind of connection to magic and/or witchcraft. I happened to recall an online discussion that mentioned the swordfighting instructor Hans Talhoffer had some kind of connection to Kabbalah, so I thought that was as close as I was going to get. Some research got me scans, photocopies and transcriptions of most of Talhoffer's manuscripts, and while looking through them I got two surprises. First, there was no real Kabbalah in there to speak of. One of the two manuscripts had a Hebrew alphabet, yes, and some other Hebrew scribbles, but that was about it. However, there was quite a bit of other very interesting material there to work with. One of the manuscripts, for instance, contained all sorts of devices for predicting the outcome of a duel through combing the letter-value of the names of the combatants with the date and time of the fight, a particularly rare kind of divination called onomancy. Another manuscript was filled with strange illustrations of all sorts of machinery, semi-alchemistic recipes, and, on top of that, a whole chapter devoted to astrology and physiology, complete with Medieval humoral teachings. In short, I had more than enough material to devote a thesis to.

My main working question revolved around trying to figure out why, exactly, Hans Talhoffer decided to combine these esoteric elements with his seemingly more down-to-earth fighting arts instruction. While I never quite came up with a conclusive answer to that, the work did serve as a gateway to other manuals combining esotericism and swordsmanship in similar ways. For instance, along the way I discovered that another swordfighting manual, the Hs. 3227a, also called the Codex Döbringer, contained what a catalog entry called "astrological texts, magical and medicinal recipes, onomatomancy". Here was another manuscript combining onomancy and swordfighting! I would have loved to include an analysis of the particular kind of onomancy contained within the Döbringer manuscript, but unfortunately, as opposed to the Talhoffer manuscripts, no transcription or translation of the relevant folio's could be found. In fact, I had quite a bit of trouble getting a hold of good quality scans of the relevant folio's, let alone a transcription. This meant I would have to do the painstaking work of transcribing and translating a particularly tricky passage of a hard to read manuscript myself, with no experience in such matters. Did I mention that, while the sections of the manuscript were in German, the esoteric bits were in Latin? Clearly, a compare and contrast of Talhoffer and Döbringer were quite beyond the scope of a Bachelor's thesis.

So, I figured I'd continue my research during my Master's program. I have now had roughly two years of a Research Master behind me, and this is what I have so far. After quite a bit more work than I anticipated, I was able to transcribe the section containing the onomancy. I wasn't exactly sure which folio contained the relevant information, so I had to transcribe around fifteen pages. Then, after taking a course in Medieval Latin, I attempted to sort through the raw data. Besides the onomancy, which turned out to be roughly two paragraphs of quite a bit more primitive devices than the ones contained in the Talhoffer manual, the pages contained a great variety of other hugely interesting material. A brief overview should give an idea of the nature of the texts. For instance, a table connecting the four humors, the four seasons, the four elements, and the four stages of a man's life, in various ways. Or, a poem describing the different months, with their nature or the activities one undertakes during that time. A few medicinal recipes, for instance a drink that purportedly gets rid of a tapeworm. The previously mentioned onomancy. My personal favorite section, however, is a copy of an alchemical manual called the Liber Vaccae, or the Book of the Cow. This rare and historically quite demonized book contains a variety of what can only be described as scientific experiments of a generally quite gruesome, visceral nature. For instance, one experiment describes an application of the Medieval scientific principle of spontaneous generation by transforming a dead calf into a swarm of bees, or vice versa. The procedure is quite complex, and involves beating the calf to a pulp with a black dog's penis and  I am not even kidding. Another experiment describes the creation of a homunculus by impregnating an unidentified animal with various herbs and stones, sealing up all its bodily orifices, and storing it in a dark place. After this, it's stomach is cut open, and the resulting product can be used to produce all sorts of miraculous effects, among which control over the weather, invincibility and invisibility.

So, with this material in hand, my plan for this year is to finally compare and contrast Talhoffer and Döbringer. there are a number of questions I would like to have answered. Who were these men who wrote these books? What was their education like, or their social context? What caused them to be interested in both martial arts and esoteric topics. Were these interests related in any way? Did Talhoffer, perhaps, have entirely different reasons for including the material than Döbringer? Of course, perhaps not all of these questions are answerable, and new questions might arise during the coming months. This is, however, where I stand right now. It's kind of exciting, really, as I believe no one has ever done this kind of research, at least, not that I'm aware of. It can also be kind of lonely though, so if anyone is working on the same kind of thing I'd very much like to hear about it.

Future posts will probably go into more detail, but I hope this was of interest to those already involved in HEMA, but perhaps unaware of this side of it.

Tuesday 21 October 2014

Krumphau and attacking the guards

In this post, I wanted to devote some space to two main topics: using the Vier Versetzen and attacking the fighter camped in a guard.

Guards are often seen as positions one should not linger in too long. At the same time, it is often advised that one should not attack someone who is camped in a guard. This has always seemed somewhat contradictory to me. I wanted to devote some time in this post exploring how I see guards and their use, focusing on these two points.

First of all, I wanted to give some thought to how I see the Krumphau working as a counter to Ochs. This basically means I'll try to write down what I've already been teaching in my classes, more or less. I've been drawing a lot of ideas from Ps. von Danzig lately, and my specific implementation of Krumphau versus Ochs owes a large part to that text. Coupled with this specific technique, I also wanted to discuss some points on attacking guards in general.

First off, I think it would be useful to first sum up some of the basic assumptions I have regarding the Vier Versetzen. What I always tell my students is that the Vier Versetzen negate the offensive potential of the Vier Leger. What I mean by this is that each of the Vier Leger has an attack that comes naturally from that position, and which is most often employed from that position. Vom Tag has the Obenhau, Pflug has the low thrust, Alber has the short edge Unterhau or Ansetzen, snapping up quickly with the point, and Ochs has the high thrust. My basic assumption is that each of these attacks are countered in some way by one of the Vier versetzen, enabling one to attack a guard while working around the most likely attack from said guard.

My second basic assumption is that the Vier Versetzen, or Fünf Hauen if you include the Zornhau, are named 'hidden strikes' for a number of different reasons, but one of them being is that they are hard to discern. Each of the strikes starts from a standard sword-on-the-shoulder Vom Tag, and each appears to begin as a regular old Obenhau. This makes them hard to predict, and hard to counter, and enables you to control your opponent and his reactions to your advantage.

Now, having these assumptions in the back of my mind, let's have a look at what the source text tells us on how the Krumphau breaks Ochs. Strangely, most of the older manuscripts containing Glosses of Liechtenauer's Zedel did not specify exactly how one of the Vier Versetzen were to be used in 'breaking' a guard. They merely briefly summed up wich Hau broke which guard. Luckily, Ps. von Danzig goes into a little more detail. Of the Krumphau, he tells us:

[17r] Merck der krump haw ist der vier vor setzen ains wider die vier hüten wenn do mit pricht man die hüten Die do haist der öchss vnd auch der öber vnd den vnder haw den treib also wenn du mit dem zu° vechten zw° im kumpst stet er denn gegen dir vnd helt sein swert für seinem haubt In der hu°t des ochsens auff seiner lincken seitten So setz den lincken fues vor vnd halt dein swert an deiner rechten achsel in der hu°t vnd spring mit dem rechten fuess wol auff dein rechte seitten gegen ÿm vnd slach ÿn mit der langen schneid aus gekräutzten armen vber sein hend

My interpretation of this is as follows. The main threat of Ochs is in the point, which is primed for a high thrust. One therefore would wish to avoid the point, and consequently avoid moving straight in. since the point is very maneuverable in Ochs, it would be unwise to try to simply bash it out of the way, as a Durchwechseln would be very easily made to counter this. Therefore, the intention is to flank the opponent, while giving the impression that a regular Obenhau is imminent. This would give the opponent an incentive to move forward, expecting to make a successful Absetzen. However, instead of finishing the Obenhau, the attacker jumps out of the line of the high thrust, but throws the point back towards the opponent, hitting him in the hands. Note that this version works for both an  opponent camped in a static Ochs, primed for a thrust, or for an opponent standing in, say, Pflug, expecting an Obenhau and wanting to make an Absetzen. In both cases, deception and lateral movement, while throwing the point back towards the opponent's closest target, the hands, makes the Hau work.

My interpretation of the Krumphau countering Ochs through deception can be backed up by another of Ps. von Danzig's Stücke, a second counter of Ochs. This time, the deception is that the Krumphau is clearly telegraphed to the opponent. I'll quote the text again:

[18r] Auch prichstu mit dem stuck die hu°t des ochsen Den treib also Wenn dw mit dem zw° vechten zw ÿm gest stet er denn gegen dir vnd heltt sein swert mit dem gehültz auff seiner lincken seitten vor dem haupt So wurff dein swert an dein rechte achsel vnd thue als du im mit dem krump haw an sein swert an wöllest pinden vnd haw kurtz vnd wechsel do mit vnden durch sein swert vnd schewss im deñ ort zu° der anderñ seitten lanck vnder seine~ swert ein zu° dem hals So mües er vor setzen Do mit kumpstu zw° schlegen vnd zw° ander arbait mit dem swert krumpha. W. der pricht die Huet des Ogsen

If you'll remember, I said earlier that I would not advise trying to bind on the blade with the Krumphau, if trying to counter the Ochs. This Stücke advises pretending to do exactly that. If he doesn't respond, of course, like with any feint, you can proceed like you were sincere in your intentions, bind on his blade, wind, and thrust to his chest, like earlier Stücke advise doing against an Obenhau. It is, however, very likely that he will try to somehow avoid the bind, move his sword, or at least somehow move his point to counter your action. This is your cue to move off to the other side, slide your sword under his in a classic Durchwechseln, and finish with a thrust.

Notice the theme here. In both cases you can safely engage the opponent, because you can reasonably predict his responses and work around them. This is why I believe the Vier Versetzen are suitable for fighters camped in a certain guard, so long as you are able to pre-empt and draw out their predictable responses. Future posts will elaborate on this, but I think this is enough for now.


Monday 18 August 2014

What is HEMA to you?

Partly as a result of the discussion that ensued after I posted my last blog update, and partly as a result of a presentation I gave in-house to the fellow members of my club, I wanted to devote some space of this blog to a very difficult subject, namely that of deciding what kind of swordsman I want to be. I feel that, if I want to approach any activity with any seriousness, I need to have a clear picture of what it is I am doing, and what it is I hope to achieve. This may sound painfully obvious, but it is a very difficult thing to do, and it is very easy to slip into lazy assumptions and generalizations.

Notice I was, and am, careful to speak in the first person here. This is in fact part of the point I am trying to make. To me, thinking about HEMA, or almost anything really, in universalizing terms of 'this is how it is' or even 'this is how it should be' is a very dangerous path to walk down. I feel it is the main contributor to what has been dubbed HEMA drama. Indeed, I have noted some exceptionally strong, widely varying opinions being voiced about HEMA, about what it is and isn't, how it should or should not develop in the future, both on- and offline. Often, this leads to heated discussion, which all to easily leads to antagonization.

In a way, of course, this can be taken as a good sign; a lot of people clearly care very much about the current state of HEMA, and it's future, which I believe is a good thing. Divisiveness, however, is not, especially in a community as relatively small and young as ours. Moreover, I feel that much of this divisiveness is completely unnecessary, for it seems to be the result of a miscommunication about the basic premises of the discussion. What is happening, I believe, is the following; because some people see HEMA as a more or less cohesive community, they believe that the ideological foundations of this community should be more or less the same throughout as well. The same principles should be guiding all activities within the community, and if an individual, activity or group seemingly deviates from these principles, they are often branded as counterproductive or simply wrong.

I wish to illustrate this by doing something that seems to go directly against what I wrote at the start of this post, namely by making general observations. Let's say that the HEMA community can be roughly divided into three main groups, depending on how they feel HEMA is, or should be. These HEMA straw men may be described as follows:
  1. The Academic. This person has a fetish for parchment and goosequills, practicing HEMA purely for the purpose of gaining an understanding of the martial culture of the past. Primary source study is his main, if not only focus, and his sole interest is in reviving the lost arts, attempting to interpret the techniques from the manuscripts as the masters intended them. The Academic feels that modern tournaments are diluting these arts, devolving it into the point-fighting and reckless suicidal anti-technical behavior he despises in modern olympic fencing.
  2. The Athlete. This person fights to win, and is willing to employ all means, historical or otherwise, to achieve this goal. The Athlete may or may not study manuscripts, but that is beside the point. He doesn't really care about whether a certain technique is derived from Fiore, Ringeck, Meyer, Monkey Style, or that anime he watched as a kid; if it wins him tournaments, it must be good. Besides, the human body only works in a limited amount of ways, so really, how much difference between martial arts can there really be?
  3. The Recreationalist. This person likes swords, and likes swinging them. There's not really much more to it than that. The Recreationalist might have taken up swordfighting because he loves Medieval stuff and Game of Thrones, and felt he needed the exercise. The recreationalist also loves the social aspect of HEMA, the drinking, the talking with people who also like Medieval stuff and Game of Thrones, the bashing people in the face with swords and hugging it out afterwards. He's not that competitive, and it's all in good fun.
By now, you might have felt a surge of indignation at this blatant stereotyping, which you might have guessed is kind of the point. Subtle, no? My point is that often people project one of these stereotypes on to the person they're having an argument with. "He combined elements of Meyer and Vadi in his sparring! Blasphemy! He must be an Athlete, who only cares for the touch and the medal!" "He thinks tournaments may be a bad influence on historical interpretation! He must be one of those stuffy Academics, forever in a book, forever getting his ass kicked in sparring!"

In fact, I think that in all practitioners of HEMA, elements of all three of the above stereotypes exist, in varying degrees of a spectrum. We each, however, have unique priorities and values which we bring to the table, and there should be room for this. For example, I think of myself as largely an Academic: I try to keep my longsword training grounded within a specific timeframe and geographical area, focusing on the big three manuscripts of Ringeck, von Danzig and Döbringer, and atttempt to gain a greater level of understanding what kind of swordplay was practiced by the authors of these manuscripts and their contemporaries at the time. I mostly see my practice as a kind of experimental history, testing hypotheses on the use of techniques through sparring, while trying to keep in mind the limitations of this method and my personal bias. I fight in tournaments, but I largely see these events as laboratories for testing new interpretations, Therefore, I try to limit my use of techniques to what I can conceivably trace back to the sources mentioned above. For instance, I try not to use the Hanging Guard or Hangetort, as I feel that is more of a Meyer-type technique, effective though it may be. This does not mean, however, that I don't try to win, and I very much enjoy it when I do win. Neither does it mean that I think technical proficiency is all that matters; I train my strength and conditioning, because all the technical expertise in the world means nothing if you can't control your own body and move it athletically, powerfully and efficiently. Neither am I a purist when it comes to reconstruction of old systems. I am a firm believer in the use of frog-DNA from other martial arts; If I didn't read up on modern Freestyle wrestling, Lignitzer probably would have remained a mystery to me. Nor does my academic focus mean that I didn't get into swordfighting because I'm a huge geek, because I am. Because come on, swords are just awesome, who am I kidding. Hell, it's the main reason I keep practicing HEMA year after year.

It's quite scary putting all that up for display. It of course doesn't cover the whole picture, partly because the picture changes. I spent quite a bit of time getting the priorities I just set out straight in my head, making them as concrete as possible, while occasionally adjusting them as my perspective changes, as it is wont to do. I feel this is crucial, because first of all, if you don't know as exactly as possible what you're doing, and why you're doing it, you're never going to figure out how to improve it. Second, these priorities are what keeps a discussion on HEMA clear and on-topic. If both participants of the discussion are more informed on the other's context and goals in which they are presenting a certain point, then misunderstandings can hopefully be kept to a minimum.

This is just a small piece of how I think about HEMA, and especially the role of academia within the development of the community. Future posts will expand on that latter point more thoroughly, but for now, I think this will do.

Thursday 7 August 2014

Tournament rulesets: an alternative proposal

I have a few HEMA tournaments coming up, and as such, the formats of these kinds of tournaments have been on my mind a lot. It ties into a lot of things I probably want to write about in the future: the growing 'sportification', for lack of a better word, of HEMA, how I see and use tournaments for my own specific purposes, and how any fighter needs to be very conscious of what they are trying to achieve by competing, and how it fits into what they are trying to achieve by practicing HEMA in general. For now, however, I want to focus on the rulesets being used.

A few days ago, Lee Smith of Blood and Iron posted a critique of the ruleset used at Longpoint 2014. His comments were mainly focused on what in his opinion was too great a value being placed on the afterblow, or the strike delivered within a tempo of being hit. In his opinion, it basically rewarded a fighting style that the early masters would describe as that of a 'buffalo'. Mindless flailing without regard for the opponent's weapon, because a hit is a hit, and if you get struck, might as well try to hit the other guy as hard and fast as possible to negate his advantage, right? I'm (over-)simplifying here, but it does point to an important problem in HEMA.

Generally, HEMA tournaments want to simulate combat as it would have been practiced back in the day as much as possible without actually dueling to the death with sharp swords. There are other basic premises, such as historical formats like the Franco-Belgian rules, but for the sake of clarity I'll omit these outliers for now. This rules out any fencing type stuff such as right of way or that thing where only the first tippy-tappy hit counts (I don't know anything about fencing). The basic guidelines for a duel to the death are usually employed to create a ruleset. These are as follows. First and foremost, do not die. This can be expanded to 'do not get hit'. Killing the other guy is very much a secondary concern. But, since statistically speaking, the longer the other guy remains alive, the greater the chance becomes that he'll eventually kill you. So usually, killing the other guy increases your chances of remaining alive, provided of course that you don't die in the process.

These premises have resulted in two extremely controversial concepts in HEMA, namely the double hit and the afterblow. The double hit occurs when both fighters focus entirely on killing the other guy, ignoring the 'remain alive at all costs' bit. As a result, they both hit each other at the same time, making them both losers in the most absolute sense of the word. This situation is often discouraged during tournaments. For instance,in the only tournament I have so far participated in, three double hits resulted in a disqualification.

The afterblow is a bit trickier. It takes into account that very few strikes are instantly fatal. Even a thrust straight through the heart does not necessarily cause the victim to immediately collapse; there have been plenty of recorded instances where people missing an arm or having their guts hanging out have continued fighting. This means that a fighter needs to be able to continue defending himself even after dealing a blow to his opponent. Usually, the fighter that has been struck has a short amount of time, roughly a single tempo, to deal the afterblow.

How this afterblow is dealt with varies quite a bit. The general theory is that they're bad, and should be avoided if at all possible to improve the quality of fighting. Some tournaments therefore penalize the fighter who 'let himself get hit' with an afterblow. Apparently Longpoint 2014 was an extreme example of this. If I recall correctly, the tournament I participated in sat on the other end of the spectrum, awarding no points to the afterblow but otherwise attaching no consequences to getting hit with one. Both types of rulesets seemed to encourage mindless flailing.

The problem, to me, seems to be translating what I believe is a general agreement on what constitutes good fighting into an objective ruleset which would properly reward fighters for this type of good fighting. Most fighters, organizers and judges know what good fighting looks like, but if it seems more likely that one can win by fighting sloppily, the sloppy fighting will prevail. I believe this problem seems to be inherent in a point-based system, which is what the vast majority of tournaments uses. trying to quantify what constitutes good fighting seems a hopeless task.

I therefore wish to propose an alternative. Instead of using a point-based system, like most martial arts competitions seem to be using, I suggest a panel of judges be used to determine the overall quality of a fighter's swordplay during a single fight. The referee determines when a hit has taken place, and separates the fighters. This I feel is still necessary to prevent endless mauling, which is not what a historical fight would have looked like by any means. Following this, however, instead of allotting points, the referee immediately restarts the fight, only to break up the fighters again after a hit has taken place. This goes on for a predetermined amount of time, after which the panel of judges determines which of the two fighters was the more proficient one. how exactly this is determined can vary. Like I implied earlier, I'm not a fan of trying to quantify an opinion, so holding up signs with a grade from one to ten on them á la gymnastics is not something I would prefer. The two options I see are either a short discussion to consensus or a simple vote. There is of course always the problem of objectivity here: one panel of judges could have entirely different criteria than others. A set of guidelines that the judges are to follow, with priorities of what would constitute better fighting, would hopefully minimize this, and making these guidlines public would also help with transparency.

An alternative method would eliminate the panel of judges entirely, leaving it up to the pool of fighters themselves. I once saw this method being used in what I believe was a Polish tournament; I can't recall which one right now. I don't remember the details, but the basic structure was like this. Fighters fought a predetermined group of opponents, and were then asked which of their opponents they thought was the best. The one which would ultimately receive the most votes would be deemed the winner. Now, there would probably be some issues with this system as well, but I am just in love with it's simplicity.

These are merely some very general suggestions, but the main point I wish to bring across is that there might be a need for something of a paradigm shift in the way HEMA tournaments are judged. I feel that a move away from trying to quantify performance, and embracing abstractions like 'good fighting' would help the level of technical skill being displayed during competition.

First post woo

Hi there.

I´ll just start off by saying that I´m starting this blog, not so much to be read, but to write. I felt I needed the practice; writing papers and such for school has never really been one of my fortes. Not that I'm dissatisfied with them, once I finish them. It's just that because there are so many restrictions and rules to follow, that it becomes a bit paralyzing. Because of that, I have a tendency to procrastinate.

So, to try to counteract that, I have started this blog to be able to write in a bit more of an easygoing environment. No real need for things such as footnotes and proper structuring of texts exceeding 5000 words on a topic I need to rigorously research for three weeks before I can even begin. In this blog, I write on the topics that occupy my everyday thinking. I always have these ideas rolling around in my head that I feel would benefit from being written down and analyzed, so now there is a place for that. Meanwhile, I have an oppurtunity to write, and practice getting better at that.

The topics, I think, will vary a bit, but I wanted to focus on a few main themes. First, one of my greatest passions, HEMA, or Historical European Martial arts. I am both a practitioner and an instructor in this, and am constantly thinking of ways to improve my interpretations and didactic skills. Second, academia. This might be too big and pretentious a word for what it actually will entail, but I might devote a few blog posts to ideas on the periphery of writing a paper, or the academic context of HEMA. Lastly, I have been getting into strength training over the last few months, specifically barbell training. I'm always trying to improve myself in this regard, and this occupies my thoughts quite a bit, so one might expect one or two posts on that as well.

This all of course assuming I actually keep this up, and this won't become one of those blogs where you see an opening post full of hopes and dreams, dated three years old, and the rest is a graveyard. There are literally thousands of those on the Internet, and mine might become one of them, who knows. No matter though, because, like I said, this is more of an online notebook than a real blog, so readers mustn't expect too much.

That said, I hope to be adding to this blog frequently, as I think it'll be beneficial to me and my scattered brain to have a central repository of my wandering thoughts. And who knows, maybe someone else will somehow benefit!