Commemoration (Memory Studies)

A study of two monuments, one in Wilmington NC and one in Nashville TN, that memorialize the Wilmington Coup and Massacre of 1898 and the remains of enslaved people excavated near Andrew Jackson's Hermitage, respectively. The former remains enmired in aversion to confronting Jim Crow-era crimes directly, while the latter points to a way that monument builders might fruitfully consider the complex racial history of the South.

This article discusses the relationship between violence and public space in light of a collectively perpetrated and widely televised arson attack that took place in 1993 in Sivas, Turkey, and its recent on-site commemorations. It draws on critical theoretical perspectives developed since the 1990s to consider conventional models of public space as entangled in violence, while also aiming to contribute to contemporary scholarship on contrarian responses to this entanglement. The tendency in this scholarship is to identify these responses as bottom-up, unscripted, performative and direct, and therefore as diametrically opposed to those identified as top-down, scripted, rational, and legislation-facing. The multifarious initiatives and interventions involving contextually shifting priorities, positions and strategies that mark the case discussed in this article call this tendency into question. Unassimilable under such binary oppositions, these initiatives and interventions have not refrained from engaging conventional models of public space while also developing and mobilizing contrarian ones. This article ultimately argues that public space is not just where violence occurs but also where its semantic disambiguation is pursued; this pursuit, which involves various forms of socio-political work, in turn defines and continually redefines the very distinction between conventional and contrarian imaginaries of public space.

Oslavy " dňa slobody " , ako sa 28. október 1918 nazýval v období prvej Československej republiky (ČSR), patrili medzi najvýznamnejšie pravidelne sa opakujúce udalosti v pomyselnom štátnom kalendári významných udalostí. V ňom sa tento deň označoval aj ako " prehlásenie nezávislosti " či " prehlásenie samostatnosti " , či dokonca ako " deň oslo-bodenia českého národa ". Od začiatku sa mu jasne priraďovali české, resp. československé národné atribúty, pričom pojmy štátny a národný boli v tlači často zamieňané. 2 Pravidelné pripomínanie panovníkov, významných osobností, či zakladateľských udalostí predstavuje významnú súčasť historických politík jednotlivých štátnych útvarov, ktoré z nich neraz odvodzujú legitimitu svojej existencie. Pierre Nora v kontexte spo-mienkovej praxe v moderných dejinách vytvoril koncept miest pamäti, ktoré sa podľa neho rodia a žijú z pocitu, že neexistuje žiadna spontánna pamäť, že je potrebné vytvá-rať archívy, sláviť výročia, organizovať oslavy, prednášať smútočné prejavy a vytvárať záznamy, pretože tieto úkony nie sú prirodzené. Objekt sa stáva miestom pamäti, keď sa niekto usiluje neupadnúť do zabudnutia (napr. stavaním pamätných dosiek), keď sa v spo-ločnosti diskutuje o jeho vplyve a ešte stále vzbudzuje emócie. Miestom pamäti sa podľa Noru môže stať všetko, čo predstavuje niečo materiálne a veľmi konkrétne, eventuálne geograficky situované, až po abstraktný objekt, ktorý vznikol činnosťou intelektu. Môže ísť o monument, významnú osobu, múzeum, rovnako ako o symbol, udalosť či inštitúciu. 3 V tomto kontexte 28. október 1918 predstavuje tiež takéto miesto, pričom spomienky naň boli už v medzivojnovom období zhmotnené v rôznych monumentoch, textoch, či verejných performatívnych aktoch, akými boli oslavy či divadelné predstavenia. Zároveň predstavoval pravidelne pripomínanú ideu, ktorej atribúty aj spoločenský význam sa však v čase a v priestore výrazne menil.

A more diversified approach to cultural remembrance in Ireland is suggested here. By distinguishing between legacies of 1798 in the Rebellion's three main arenas, it is possible to identify three distinct, if also interrelated, modes of memory: public memory in the East, folk memory in the West, and social amnesia in the North. Initially these may seem to be local variants of invented collective memory, yet investigation allows for more complicated observations, which may serve to problematize our understanding of practices of remembrance in Ireland.

Jubileumsfeiring (…) gir en uimotståelig trang til å tegne fortiden, ikke slik den var, men slik vi ønsker den kunne ha vaert for å kunne feire den i sømmelige former. Eller slik vi har behov for den for å kaste den rette glans over det vi har fore her og nå, vi som betrakter oss som arvtagere og etterkommere. Det er grunn til å regne med at jubileumsfeiringer flest forteller mer om dem som feirer, enn om det eller dem som er gjenstand for feiring. Sitatet ovanfor kunne godt ha vore sagt om grunnlovsjubileet i 2014, men orda er Inge Lønnings, og dei vart ytra i tilknytting til tusenårsjubileet for innføringa av kristendommen, som skulle feirast i 1995. 1 Dei kan utan vidare overførast til jubileumsfeiringar allment. Olaf Aagedal og Ånund Brottveit tenkjer i tilsvarande banar i ein analyse av unionsjubileet i 2005: Kunsten å jubilere er gjerne å ta utgangpunkt i faktiske hendingar «og bruke dei i isenesetjing av våre aktuelle førestellingar om Noreg», skriv dei. 2 Begge sitata seier noko viktig om essensen i eit jubileum: Det handlar aldri om fortida i seg sjølv. Eit jubileum er ein situasjon der ein kultur ser bakover med si eiga samtid som prisme, og tek i bruk dei elementa frå fortida som måtte passe inn for å påverke samtida og gje retning til framtida. Dette er kortforma, og det er sett på spissen. Det er likevel nødvendig å ta nokre atterhald i høve til ei reindyrka instrumentell og samtidsorientert forståing av eit jubileum. Det viktigaste atterhaldet er at eit truverdig jubileum må forankrast i fortidige hendingar. Til tider kan denne forankringa vere temmeleg tynn. Til dømes feira Levanger eit tusenårsjubileum i 2011 der det einaste historiske belegget var ein setning i soga om Gunnlaug Ormstunga om at det skal ha stått ei kyrkje på Levanger på den tida Gunnlaug vart drepen. Det avgjerande for å få til eit jubileum, ser såleis ut til å vere at nokon med innflytelse ser ei nytte av at det blir jubilert, og at dei som jubilerer, vel å tru på legitimeringa for jubileet.

DESCRIPTION How is it possible for people who were born in a time of relative peace and prosperity to suddenly discover war as a determining influence on their lives? For decades to speak openly of German suffering during World War II-to claim victimhood in a country that had victimized millions-was unthinkable. But in the past few years, growing numbers of Germans in their 40s and 50s calling themselves Kriegsenkel, or Grandchildren of the War, have begun to explore the fundamental impact of the war on their present lives and mental health. Their parents and grandparents experienced bombardment, death, forced displacement, and the shame of the Nazi war crimes. The Kriegsenkel feel their own psychological struggles-from depression, anxiety disorders, and burnout to broken marriages and career problems-are the direct consequences of unresolved war experiences passed down through their families. Drawing on interviews, participant observation, and a broad range of scholarship, Lina Jakob considers how the Kriegsenkel movement emerged at the nexus between public and familial silences about World War II, and critically discusses how this new collective identity is constructed and addressed within the framework of psychology and Western therapeutic culture.

To ascertain the reasons for manifold usage of a candle in the calendar rites and beyond, the author analyzes its qualities, both natural (fire, light, warmth) and cultural (as a hand-made object). A candle is seen through the semantics of life and death, light and darkness, sacred and profane. The Slavic word for a candle (*světъ ‘light’) is close to and associated with another root (svętъ ‘sacred’), which in the folk perspective, increases the blessing power of this object. These and some other qualities assigned to a candle make it play the key role in sacrifice, purification, commemoration, fortune- telling, and other magic acts in the course of the year. Nowadays many distinctive ritual functions of a candle have vanished, giving way to the dominating one – commemoration. This confirms the Piotr Bogatyrev’s view of a ritual object as a system of functions, the number of which can diminish, while the intensity of those left can even grow.

At the National September 11 Memorial Museum, the material culture of everyday life infuses the heart of a story in which ordinary people, on an otherwise unexceptional workday, were thrust into the vortex of a global event. Within the Museum, objects serve as proxies for the thousands of individuals that confronted drastic choices. Personal possessions recovered in the wreckage and objects that speak to a victim’s life, are especially poignant when their meaning is explained by loved ones.

This chapter explores the complex issues of curatorial practice, collection building and memorialization of shared traumatic experience. It also addresses some of the digital culture related to 9/11, and how the unification of the material and digital and use of technology in the museum space, offer unique opportunities for storytelling, and memorialization of victims of mass violence. Although the National September 11 Memorial Museum chronicles an event of continuing global consequence, this chapter seeks to emphasize the importance of gathering evidence of the human impact of any disruptive contemporaneous event that is emotionally sensitive, politically charged and historically unsettled.

This article is a extensive discussion from a Māori perspective into issues around the use of Māori cultural items, in particular haka, to commemorate the fallen in WWI. Embedded in the are key theories of cultural memory, ‘war culture’ and ‘post-war culture.’ The research outlines the differences between European and Indigenous war and post war cultural practices focusing on Māori. It seeks to understand the reluctance of Turkish officials to see haka being performed when it was apparently banned from ceremonies in 2005. It outlines the media reporting on the issue and the subsequent reintroduction of haka in August 2015 at the centenary of the Chunuk Bair battle. It unpacks deep problems inherent with using such items as they are vehicles of cultural memory. These memories carry with them deep seeded issues in relation to colonisation and the military. It highlights problems around the cultural assimilation of haka and Māori and the lack of support from wider New Zealand for protecting Te Reo Māori (Māori language). It holds that there is a place for haka in commemoration and that Māori need to be mindful of Turkish cultural sensitivities as haka was used to wage war against them. However, it explores a counter-argument to that in that haka and cultural items can be used in post-war culture to promote understanding and peace while recognising the tikanga concept of mana whenua. It points out the words of Atatürk about the embracing of those who fought at Gallipoli as the sons of Turkey. It asks Turkish officials to recognise that under no circumstances is the performance of cultural items meant to cause offence and that Turkey’s multicultural nature should recognise the practice as indigenous religious practice. As such it questions the role of Turkish officials approving Māori cultural items for commemorative ceremonies. Lastly, it opens avenues for further research into the issues raised.

Interpreting the history of American slavery presents challenges to museum workers who work to engage visitors in grappling with the difficult history. This paper presents an overview of Commemorative Museum Pedagogy, a sensitive methodology to engage resistant learners in learning about an oppressive history and finding ways to express historical empathy for the oppressed populations.

The term 'chrysom' (or 'chrisom') is often used to describe effigies or subsidiary 'weeper' figures of swaddled babies on medieval and Renaissance tomb monuments, including brasses and incised slabs. However, the exact meaning of this word is often misunderstood and yet has seldom been queried. Moreover, there is the questionable assumption that these 'chrysom' figures represent babies who died before their mothers' churching and who were therefore buried in their baptismal clothes. This paper addresses the occurrence and meaning of this type of memorial to children who died in early infancy and who were remembered in the way that best befitted their stage in life - in their swaddling clothes.

It is often assumed that children do not really occur in medieval art. The problem for researchers is not so much one of finding representations of childhood, but of recognising them. Medieval art has its own conventions and if we approach it with a present-minded attitude we are indeed likely to find only ‘miniature adults’ at best. This easily leads to a conclusion that medieval society neither knew nor understood the concept of childhood. Yet size and proportion can be deceptive: medieval art does not necessarily meet modern standards of naturalism and a small figure need not represent a child. This chapter considers representations of children in medieval art, including memorials and monuments, placing these images in their artistic, iconological and theological contexts.

The affective horrors of the Armenian Genocide leave traces upon the living.  Most pilgrims who visit sites of mass killing in contemporary Syria and Turkey note that they feel a profound sense of sadness and are overcome with tears of mourning while visiting the sites. This essay explores these experiences along with cases of visitors who had an altogether different experience of the uncanny including physical ailment.  I suggest that some who visit spaces where Armenian Genocide atrocities were committed a century ago are unsettled temporally, geographically, and bodily because they are visitors to haunted spaces or what Roma Sendayka has called “non-sites of memory.” How do communal memories of horrific bodily violence sometimes result in embodied hauntings? How have visitors historically enacted rituals—including collecting bones of martyrs— in an attempt to vacate the affective necrogeography of ghosts by naming the unnamed dead?

Moving from an article written by the American historian Ruth Ben-Ghiat concerning the relationship between Italian people and the monumental legacy of Italy’s Fascist past, this paper aims to tackle the broader issue of Collective Memory of Italian Fascism. Namely, the memory of a rather benign form of totalitarianism which is not stained by the horrible crimes of its Nazi counterpart, and towards which the Italian population – because of its inherent goodness - never totally adhere to.
To determine the way in which this image established itself, the topic is approached through the tools supplies by Memory Studies, in an attempt to identify those intellectual and cultural traditions which have framed this particular representation of the past and those active memory agents who selectively adapted and manipulated history. In particular, attention is given to the specificity of the historical period in which the process of establishing a collective memory took place, the failure of the purges against the Fascists and the lack of persecution against war criminals, which lead to a misleading evaluation of the legacy of Fascism and the war. Furthermore, active agents of memory are individuated in the work of the scholars who dealt with the history of Fascism, in the Allies and the propaganda techniques they deployed during the war, and finally in the visual media and their active role in forging specific exculpatory memories.
What this paper ascertains, therefore, is how these policies of re-elaboration of the national past mainly pointed towards establishing an aura of social amnesia around Fascism, its crimes and the connivance of Italian people. This collective amnesia, however, left gaps and ‘black holes’ into the collective memory of Italians. As this paper argues, these gaps were fulfilled thanks to a constant comparison with Nazi Germany and the brutality of its crimes, thus establishing what is known as the ‘bad Germans/good Italians’ trope which is central in evaluating what has established itself to be the collective memory of Italian Fascism.

'Mechtild Widrich's astonishing and original book connects performance histories, feminist theory and speech act theory to elucidate the "event character" of public art by contemporary artists. With her bracing formulation of the "performative monument" and her probing analysis of photographic documentation of live acts, Widrich advances a powerful argument about the stakes of spectatorship, temporality and collective memory.'

Julia Bryan-Wilson, Associate Professor of Contemporary Art, University of California, Berkeley
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'Rigorously researched and argued, this important book will become required reading not only on the history and theory of performance art but also on the history of the "performative" itself as it has transformed public art and commemoration. With ideals of participation and engagement now commonplace in these arenas, Performative monuments shows us in vivid detail how these new ideals emerged and how problematic they have become. Ultimately, this book offers a hopeful message that art can perform its own investigation of the social world and lead us to engage in new and better practices of collective responsibility.'

Kirk Savage, Professor, History of Art & Architecture, University of Pittsburgh -- .
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"A slide projection of a Balkan capital city with the government buildings painted out; a Trojan horse made of scrap wood looming above the Venice lagoon; a lead column signed as resistance against neo-fascist tendencies; a tunnel made of stone and glass to commemorate the victims of National Socialism. All these interventions in the art-historical tradition of memorials and monuments were in fact made by performance artists. How does this fit into the common story that sets the seemingly transient live art of the 1960s, with its anarchic street actions, in opposition to official monument culture? I argue that performance, once reputed as an antipode to the monument in its ephemerality and messy embodiment, in fact holds the key to its contemporary revival.

This transformation could only take place, however, through the exploration of problems internal to performance: how to document or otherwise visually symbolize ephemeral, undocumented, even impossible actions. In solving this problem through the self-conscious use of documentary photography, film, and diagrammatic collage, performance artists found themselves referring to the past: not just their own and that of their actions, but of their political and cultural context, which, more than the act itself, proves elusive for later audiences. Performance, made durable and rhetorically powerful through photographic documents, thus gave rise to a kind of monument that was self-reflexive, taking account of its conditions of possibility and involving the audience in conventional transactions with binding social force. For the first time, there is the possibility of the ‘democratisation’ of history in these monuments through the delegation of authority from artist and state to the public, but with democratisation comes the danger of subjective self-indulgence and reassuring spectacle.

Connecting speech act and photography theory with media and memory studies, my book is an original contribution to the current debate on performance and art in public space, re-evaluating both the supposed one-time encounter of performance art and its loss to documentation, and the assumption that contemporary commemoration has democratically turned ‘against itself’ through countermonuments that refuse authority."

Shakespeare's fools have a long history: while some (like Hamlet) use madness as a cloak to hide their designs, other 'true fools' could speak often brutal truths with impunity. The fool may be foolish or possess natural wisdom and truth.
    Death in the Danse Macabre has much in common with the fool. He can caper about like a madman and yet hold out a mirror to everyone as he confronts them with their true nature, without showing any respect for wealth or status. Death is sometimes presented as the fool's alter ego: Hans Holbein the Younger juxtaposed the two in one of his 'Images of Death' woodcut designs.
    The fool was not included in the mural that was created in Paris in 1424-25, but he was to become a regular character, perhaps through the influence of the German carnival tradition and such works as Sebastian Brant's Narrenschiff (Ship of Fools) of 1494. Perhaps Shakespeare's melancholic Jaques had in mind both this satire and the Danse Macabre in his final farewell to the fool Touchstone and assembled company in As You Like It:
    And you to wrangling; for thy loving voyage
    is but for two months victualled. So to your pleasures;
    I am for other than for dancing measures.

Removals and Remembrance explores the impact of apartheid-era forced removals on the memories of Cape Town coloured (mixed race) evictees. Based on over 100 life-history interviews with removees from across the Cape Peninsula, this thesis elucidates how many removees came to remember their pasts in strikingly similar ways, tapping into the same fund of romanticized plots, themes and tropes to tell their stories. It argues that the Group Areas Act narrowed coloured social life racially, creating bonds between coloureds who had been strangers in suburbs like District Six, Goodwood, Protea Village, Steurhof, Simon's Town and Red Hill. In the wake of mass evictions, coloured removees shared their stories with their new neighbors, creating a reflexive pattern of narrative traffic circulating in the coloured townships. Today, coloured removees form a narrative community.

День Победы — это не только официальные торжества, но и народный праздник. Точнее —набор разнообразных праздничных практик, ведь 9 мая отмечают от Берлина до тульской глубинки. В сборнике представлены результаты исследовательского проекта, в рамках которого впервые была предпринята попытка описать и осмыслить происходящее в этот день в разных точках постсоветского пространства, а также в Берлине, Вене и Софии.

Какую роль в праздновании играют советские и постсоветские памятники? Как в городском пространстве выражаются политические конфликты вокруг 9 мая? Какие новые формы празднования возникли после распада СССР и падения «железного занавеса»? Как разные сообщества — от «русских» в Литве до «одесситов» в Берлине — воспроизводятся через совместное празднование 9 мая и особое отношение к этому дню? Этот сборник дает ответы на эти и многие другие вопросы.

This essay examines the process of foundation through which Samuel de Champlain's public image as the founder of Québec has been instituted both historically and during Québec City’s 400th anniversary commemorations in 2008. Through analyzing the official commemorative event, Rencontres, I demonstrate how Champlain's memory is deeply informed by spectacularized forms of politics. In particular, I argue that the Québec 400 places Champlain as the founder of a culturally diverse Québec by underlining the peaceful encounter between French colonizers and indigenous peoples. By relying on a strategy of familiarity that builds on the politics of spectacle and a semiotics of space, this discursive move solidifies the normative Québécois subject's ability to legitimately manage national space and define its own boundaries. I end by arguing that commemoration stands out as an important technique of the nationbuilding project in Québec.

This special issue addresses the possible connections and mutual benefits of examining together two analytic concepts – memory and periphery. These concepts receive much attention in various scholarly discussions, yet they have done so rather independently from each other. The potential applications and utilities of combining memory and periphery and the epistemic insights they provide for various disciplins are presented in the different contributions to this issue.

A definitive study of the remembrance of the popular Irish ballad ‘Roddy McCorley’ illustrates the dynamics of social forgetting of the 1798 rebellion in Ulster, which oscillate between decommemorating and re-commemorating. The discussion demonstrates the challenges in the historical research of folk songs and reveals the value of utilising antiquarian scholarship for a history of “hidden” popular culture. 

This essay begins by observing that while images and texts that emanated from the 'final stage' of the Holocaust seem to be a privileged source in depictions of the Holocaust, the specific features of this stage itself often remain unclear. What was the ‘final stage’ of the Holocaust? Did it have any clear and definite contours? How is it conceived in relation to other, earlier stages of the Holocaust? And are there any particular meanings that people associate with this stage? The first part of this essay explores these questions by examining the tensions between the presence and absence of the ‘final stage’ in Holocaust fiction and historical studies. I propose to approach this stage as constituting an edge to the common ‘main story’ of the Holocaust. In the essay’s second part, I apply this conceptualization in tracing 2 different ways in which survivors’ testimonies define the ‘final stage’ in terms of experience, memory and narrative, while asking which novel periodizations of the Holocaust survivors’ perspectives could introduce.

In the medieval Russian anthroponymic system, a lay person could have several names simultaneously. The public name of a person was not always their baptismal forename. Also, recent research has shown that the full sets of personal names of some of the Russian tsars and their relatives are still unknown to us, not to mention the names of the ruling elite of the state. These unknown names, however, were extremely important to their bearers – these were the names used in confessions, weddings, and funeral services; patronal icon would be commissioned and churches built in honor of the name of one’s saint and namesake. The baptismal forename, essentially a mystery to us, was actually perceived as the main and true name of an individual. In this paper we investigate the names of one of the most wellknown people of the second half of the 16th century – Andrej Ščelkalov, a man of rather humble birth but of great power, a long-lived administrator called “the chancellor,” “the minister” or even “the tsar” by his contemporaries. Moreover, we attempt to discuss this particular name-giving case within the broader anthroponymic context of the era.

It has long been assumed that the Black Death totally devastated the brass engraving industry in England, but no previous study has focused specifically on this period. Stylistic analysis, particularly of the inscriptions, shows that there was continuity of production in the London A workshop right through the period of recurrent plague and that a second workshop, London B, was established towards the end of the 1350s. The workshops appear to have responded to a
reduced supply of skilled labour by limiting their product range. The brasses of the plague years are modest in comparison with earlier brasses, though those commemorated were not of lower social status. No large figure brasses date from this decade, though significant numbers of minor
compositions were produced. This temporary inability to supply elaborate, high-quality figure brasses enabled the Tournai ateliers to expand exports to England.

The idea of the festival is related to human culture. People celebrate festivals to relax from the busy
life schedule, and these festivals predominantly revolve around agricultural cycles and seasons. Does the
festival create a space for a reversal of roles? In what ways, viewed through this prism of the festival, does
the re-telling of the human-animal relationship occur? Is it just a show of mere gratitude or something more
than that? Jangalmahal is the name given to Purulia, Bankura and West Midnapore districts of West Bengal
and is a part of Chhotanagpur plateau. Bandna parab of Jangalmahal or, broadly, the Chhotanagpur plateau
is a famous festival which celebrates the end of a hard-agricultural season. The celebration is principally for
the cattle used during agriculture. Men play with animals, bathe together and worship them as their gods.
This cattle festival illustrates the human-animal relationship and possible ethnographic reasons behind the
festival when people first used animals in their agricultural work. It is a rerun of our entire prehistoric
origins— the advent of agriculture, domestication of wild animals, grazing, and community life. Performing
traditions of India are fundamentally mnemocultural where generationally imparted memories get articulated
through embodiment and enactment. Indigenous belief and supernatural traditions are not just for the
sustaining of culture, creed, and custom but simultaneously have deeper meanings toward all these. Why
are people continuing these practices? What is the significance of such doings? There is an unknown and
unexplored knowledge behind every indigenous belief, superstitions and supernatural traditions. This paper
also aims to find out the beliefs and plausible meanings of the indigenous festival named Jawa-Karam parab
in Purulia, Bengal. These performing traditions are medium through which culture and region articulate its
distinctiveness and qualitative cultural singularity even today.

It is generally recognised that choices for monumental commemoration were subject, amongst other factors, to influence from the commemorative preferences of others in the circles in which the deceased moved. It is not unusual for monuments to individuals linked by blood or friendship to show commonality of design.This paper aims to show how a similar pattern of shared patronage, with examples of comparable designs or brasses commissioned from the same
workshop, could extend much wider across a kinship group, by examining the brasses commissioned in the later fifteenth century by the Cromwell and Bourchier families.

The Middle English poet-monk John Lydgate composed his 'Dance of Death' poem in 1426 while in Paris, basing it on the medieval Danse Macabre mural in Paris. As previously argued in my paper 'Of dead kings, dukes and constables', it was the death in 1422 of the French king Charles VI that inspired the creation of this mural in English-occupied Paris. Likewise, it was the death of the English king Henry V earlier that same year that is alluded to in Lydgate's poem and that may have been the inspiration for the painted cycle at Old St Paul's Cathedral subsequently commissioned by Town Clerk John Carpenter. Henry V remained in the national consciousness the most admired English monarch, as is still evident in Shakespeare's plays nearly two centuries later.
This paper also demonstrates why it is most likely the superior A-version of Lydgate's poem that was used in this London scheme, as stated unambiguously in one contemporary manuscript copy; the B-version is almost certainly due to scribal variation once the commemorative aspect lost its poignancy.

This article examines muzhiming, primarily excavated, written between 760 and 846 that were composed on commission, i.e., at the explicit behest of another party. I argue that in commissioning muzhiming, clients wished to do more than merely create a record of the deceased or identify the tomb occupant in perpetuity; they sought in addition to titivate the posthumous reputation of the deceased as well as enhance the reputations of family and friends among the broader audience for these texts. Moreover, because commissioned texts were often regarded with skepticism, writers of commissioned muzhiming employed a variety of rhetorical tactics within their compositions—quoted speech, final words, and the careful framing of the circumstances under which they were commissioned—in attempting to convince audiences of the reliability of their accounts. Finally, I explore why, other than for compensation, writers may have been willing to compose muzhiming on commission. My contention is that writers used these texts to enhance their own reputations as writers, or, less commonly, to make broader arguments illustrated or exemplified by their account of the life of the deceased.