Original article: 18 Jul 2014
Can you remember your initial sword class? What’s it like? Kerryn Olsen of Auckland, New Zealand tries HEMA for the very first time.
The views contained in this article belong to the author.
The Novice – Before.
What has led me here? Why am I standing in the driveway of a stranger’s house, gathering up courage to meet new people, and learn how to hit them?
Okay, so I’m not really here to hit them exactly. I’m here to learn HEMA, Historical European Martial Arts (or, as my husband likes to call it, High Explosive Martial Arts). I have no real idea of what to expect from tonight’s journey into the unknown, except that we will be focused on rapier work (Capoferro), owing to height restrictions in the living room.
You see, not only am I venturing into the past, I’m venturing into the past in a very distant corner of the planet (New Zealand), and while there is a solid group of SCA (Society for Creative Anachronism) members who practise Sword and Shield on a Sunday morning, I want to start with real swords. I’m not in it for the outfits – though I have a few of them. I’m in it for both the exercise, and the historicity.
This is not my first foray into the past. I am a medievalist. It’s official – I have a certificate and everything! I’m a PhD in English and History, and my thesis/dissertation was on Anglo-Saxon female saints in post-Conquest England. I have spent a lot of time thinking about the past, thinking about life in medieval times, and thinking about the role(s) of women. While I have been focused on saints and nuns, other women have crossed my desk, and made me reconsider what women did in the past. The more you study history, the more you discover that humans haven’t changed much over time, and the same motivations and impulses which one feels here and now have been operating across that vast expanse of space which is the past.
As a child, I didn’t want to be the princess, waiting in the castle. I’m afraid I subverted a number of social norms, by acting out the part of the prince, and riding in to save people, and slay dragons. Then I grew up, and dragons showed up less often. I learnt that women are quiet, and kind, and do gentle things (which involve working physically hard for most of the day – housework is not for the weak!). I was dissatisfied with a lot of what I saw in society, but I was good, and didn’t question it out loud.
And then, just by chance, I stumbled in to Medieval Studies, and my world view and expectations changed dramatically. I discovered saints, and suddenly female role models – women who got out there and changed the world – sprang into being. At a small, local conference, I watched a fencing demonstration by a large fellow, who had been working through an Italian fencing manual from the 16th C, trying to put the descriptions and illustrations together into an actual movement. (I have a funny feeling this is the same guy who will be teaching me – but I haven’t got to that point in the story yet.) Quite by accident, I read a section in William of Malmsbury’s Gesta Regum Anglorum, where a young woman, recently married, held Norwich Castle against William the Conqueror’s army.
Concurrent to my PhD, I discovered the joy of martial arts. Friends persuaded my to join them at their kick-boxing classes, and I started MMA. While it was a lot of hard work, I loved boxing, I loved hitting things (and possibly people), and the training was the first time I ever enjoyed any exercise other than swimming. The MMA got me through my PhD, and I received my first belt the night before my dissertation defence. I’m not quite sure which I was more proud of at the time.
Then, as it often happens, life got in the way. Timetables didn’t work, so I had to drop the boxing. I got lazy, spent a lot of time on the couch, and depression set in. But I didn’t stop looking for strong female role models (have I mentioned Buffy the Vampire Slayer yet? I should have!), and I don’t quite know how, but Esfinges popped up on my Facebook feed. So I joined the group, and watched, and drooled over swords, and saw all the competitions which are happening way over there, on the other side of the world. Then I read an article here on the blog about Perth, Australia and one woman’s description of her experience. Somehow, that gave me the impetus to search for HEMA-related activities here, and I found the New Zealand Schools of European Martial Arts. I read through their pages, laughed through their FAQs, emailed their contact person, and so here I am, about to start a new section of a strange journey…
The Novice – During.
It is a cold – bitterly cold – winter’s night, but the first clear night for weeks. So we are outside, under floodlights. The instructor is the brother of the man whose demonstration I had seen. We’re to be playing with sabres, and he’s decided, since there are two of them (the experienced ones), and two of ‘us’, my husband and I, that we’ll start with the Highland Broadsword technique. He shows us the sabres, the wooden practise swords, and then brings out more swords to show us the differences over time. This is a Viking-style sword, this is a short sword, this a sabre, and this a rapier. This one has the true cross, and this one doesn’t. (Hmm, my brain files that info about the true cross away – must look into it…) There’s so much to learn, and he is giving us an info-dump. We will go away and look things up afterwards, but in the mean-time we are handling swords!
And then we’re playing with the sabres. He makes us throw it out – snapping it straight in front of us, learning the play of the movement. Then there’s the first guard, leaning the sword against the shoulder, and up to snap out in front. And a second guard – holding it near my head, and aiming for the instructor’s head. And a third, across my body and aiming for the jaw. Some foot work – I keep trying to do more, but that’s the boxing speaking.
Holding my arms up, at right angles to the shoulder, gets tiring after a while, but I have an advantage. I’m a lefty when I’m working with single instruments, usually, but I’m pretty equal-handed. When I express a curiosity as to which hand I should use, one of the instructors recommends right, so I can practise with each of the others, while the other instructor says he’d like more practise with his left. So I alternate. Sometimes my right arm is better – I think it’s generally stronger. Other times, my left is more on target – possibly better for fine work.
I’m peering under the sword, held at head-height. It’s freezing cold, and I’m having a lot of fun. And so begins a new chapter of my life. But next time I’m bringing gloves.
The Novice – After
So now we have the Highland Broadsword poster – which I think I will enlarge, laminate, and place on the wall outside, next to the bit of flat ground we have. I’m off to find something in the dowelling line, for my husband and me to practise with. (Swords will be bought, but we’re going to have to wait a bit, practise a bit.) The cat was pleased that we were playing outside, but now he’s watching me askance. Perhaps the sticks should be being waved lower for him.