Ever wonder just how tedious it may have been to be a scribe in the dark ages? you spent your whole life copying other people’s words by the light of the sun, and sometimes by candlelight, but you never really got to use your rather uniue talent to say anythign else. Think about it, in an age where most people needed to have cathedrals tell them the stories of their religion (Stained glass wasn’t just for making with the pretty) And services were conducted in languages most people didn’t speak (Latin pre Vatican II) you, a simple scribe had a singular talent, and very little chance to get creative with it.
In the margins of illuminated texts, scribbled hastily, were complaints. Like hearing the echos of the past. The twitter for the dark ages if you will. Pretty interesting stuff.
A poignant story, i just wish they had pictures of the actual scribbles.
Oh, My Hand: Complaints Medieval Monks Scribbled in the Margins of Illuminated Manuscripts | Brain Pickings.