Imagine Being Surrounded by Maps

The Villa Farnese is a gorgeous Renaissance palace in central Italy, built in the early 1500s and richly elaborated with sculptures and frescoes. One of the rooms in the villa features a map of the world filling the wall at one end, with detailed maps of the continents on the other walls, under a ceiling decorated with constellations. Standing in this room, the magnates of the villa could see the whole world, as it was known to scientists and cartographers of the day.

The map room at Villa Farnese, photograph by Etienne (Li) via Wikimedia (Caprarola, Italy; completed 1574; fresco; by Giovanni Antonio de Varese)

Looking at this space, it occurs to me that a room like this would make an excellent setting for a scene in a fantasy or historical story. Many such stories play out over long distances, and knowing how one territory or city relates to the others around it as well as to the shapes of the land can make a huge difference in understanding the stakes and possibilities in play.

Africa, from the map room at Villa Farnese, photograph by Jean-Pierre Dalbèra via Wikimedia (Caprarola, Italy; completed 1574; fresco; by Giovanni Antonio de Varese)

In a visual medium like tv or movies, it could be very helpful to have a visual in the background while characters are discussing important movements or plans, but even in text, putting your characters in such a place could give you an opportunity to describe them looking at the map, tracing routes of travel or the borders between nations, and arguing for their plans.

Europe, from the map room at Villa Farnese, photograph by Ulrich Mayring via Wikimedia (Caprarola, Italy; completed 1574; fresco; by Giovanni Antonio de Varese)

Maps make everything better!

The Sacred Argippaioi

The Greek historian Herodotus provides some interesting information about a people living in the mountains beyond the eastern steppes whom he calls the Argippaioi:

They are said to be bald from birth, men and women alike, and they have flat noses and large chins. They speak their own language, but wear Scythian clothes, and depend on trees for their food. The tree they live off of is called “pontic.” It is about as big as a fig tree and bears stone fruits the size of beans. When the fruit is ripe, they strain it through cloth, and it yields a thick black juice, which they call “askhy.” They lick this juice up or mix it with milk and drink it; they make cakes out of the thickest of the leavings and eat them. They do not keep large flocks, for their pastures are not suited to it. Each of them lives under a tree, which they cover with white wool felt in the winter, but not in the summer. No person harms them, for they are said to be sacred, and they carry no weapons. Their neighbors refer conflicts to them for judgment, and anyone who flees to them for refuge is safe from harm. They are called Argippaioi.

– Herodotus, Histories 4.23 (my translation)

This is an interesting passage both from a historical perspective and as storytelling inspiration.

Historically speaking, many of the details Herodotus presents seem to indicate some actual knowledge of a central Asian culture. The geographic description could apply to the Altai Mountains, which lie east of the broad Eurasian steppes. The physical description of the people might be a garbled attempt to describe Asian features. The description of the tree fruit and its use matches fairly well with traditional ways of using the fruit of the bird cherry. The tree covered in white cloth could be a Greek’s misunderstanding of a chum or other type of tent. In contrast to some of Herodotus’ wilder accounts of the distant regions of the world, it sounds like he may have gathered some fairly accurate information about peoples in central Asia, which he put together as best he could given the limits of his own knowledge. The trade routes that we know as the silk road were already active carrying people and goods across Eurasia in his time, so it is not implausible that during his research among the Scythians he might have learned about peoples at the farther end of the route.

On the other hand, the idea of a sacred people who live without weapons and are left unharmed by their neighbors is an interesting concept to think about as a writer. Herodotus perhaps mistakenly associated privileges that belonged to a priestly or shamanic class with a whole people, but what if there actually were a sacred people living in peace in the mountains, acting as wise advisers to others and providing refuge to the desperate? What would it be like to live in such a culture, and what kind of conflicts could arise among a people who don’t fight? What worldbuilding could you do around such an idea? In one kind of story, the sacred people could be a refuge for the hero on their journey and a source of wise counsel, like the Elves are to Tolkien’s Hobbit heroes. In a different kind of story, imagine how power struggles would play among a people who do not fight, who even must not fight in order to preserve the awe that their neighbors feel for them. Replace the battles and murders of Game of Thrones with competitions over personal purity or devious advice given to neighboring peoples, and you could have a story that is dramatically different but with just as many opportunities for vicious betrayals and sudden reversals.

History can be a great source of writing inspiration when we get it right, but it can spark good narrative ideas even when it’s wrong.

I’ve Got the Sun in My Pocket

I have these white cotton home trousers that Eppu made for me years ago. They are very comfortable, and I wear them all the time when just hanging out at home. I wear them so much, in fact, that they are starting to get worn through in places and need repair. I got a rip at the corner of one pocket opening, and here’s how she fixed it.

Eppu is good at making invisible repairs to our clothes, but she decided to try something different this time. Instead of hiding the patching, she made it a feature. There’s a recent trend for visible mending, including use of the Japanese stitching technique called sashiko, and this was one of Eppu’s test pieces to try out the approach. Just a little experiment to see how it would come out and how it would wear on a piece of clothing that gets used so much.

I think the results are great. Now I’ve got the sun in my pocket, all day long!

Image by Eppu Jensen

Things I Have Learned By and About Going to Ropecon

This coming weekend is Ropecon, the major role-playing convention in Finland and one of the highlights of our year. Eppu and I always attend, whether it’s to play games, run games, catch up with friends, attend talks and workshops, or disco the night away.

As part of our Ropecon routine, once the weekend is over and we’ve recovered a bit, we compare notes and write down things we’ve learned from the experience to make the next year’s con easier, more manageable, or more fun. Here’s a few of the things I’ve learned over the years that have made my con experience better.

Since we live close enough to the convention site to go there and back again each day, here are some handy ways to manage home life for the weekend:

  • Make one big pot of soup or some other warm dish (chili, borscht, beef stew, etc.) and one big bowl of salad to leave in the fridge over the weekend. We can dip into one or both whenever we’re at home and need a low-effort meal.
  • Run and empty the dishwasher the morning of the first day of the con. Then just pile in dishes as you use them over the weekend and run it when it gets full and you have time.
  • Have a big piece of paper that says CLEAN on one side and DIRTY on the other; leave it on top of the dishwasher with the appropriate side up. When you’re half asleep in the morning and in a rush to get to your first panel, it saves time and brain power to not have to stop and think about when the dishwasher was last run or emptied.
  • Have a good store of salty snack foods on hand (chips, pretzels, peanuts, etc.), because you will be sweaty and dehydrated and need a quick electrolyte restorer.
  • Wash and chop a big pile of vegetables like cucumbers, carrots, cherry tomatoes, peppers, etc. on the day before the con for easy-to-grab healthy snacking, too.

Some advance prep also makes the at-con experience easier:

  • Make a daily schedule for the con with an hour-by-hour breakdown of what you want to do, including room numbers. If you’re not sure what you’ll be doing at any given time, write down all the possibilities you’re considering. Share this schedule with anyone you want to meet up with at the con, so they have an idea of where to look for you and when you’ll be free.
  • Write out your contact information (and your partner’s) and make that your phone lock screen for the weekend.
  • Leave a comfortable change of clothes in the bathroom at home every morning before you leave for the con, since you might want an immediate shower and change as soon as you get home.
  • Leave an empty drying rack in the bathroom, too, so you have an easy place to hang sweaty gear to dry before putting it in the laundry.

And some notes for making the con experience as fun and comfortable as possible:

  • If you have one warm, full meal a day, you can get through the rest of the day by snacking when you have free time. Make sure to drink plenty of water as well.
  • Pack a change of clothes in a bag with a zipper closure and leave that at the coat check in case you need to change during the con. Include a dry wash cloth in a plastic bag, so you can wipe yourself down if necessary.
  • There will always be someone at a game who needs to borrow dice, so bring an extra set for lending out.
  • For games that I run, print up a sign with the game name in big, visible letters that can stand on the table so players can easily find me.

If you’re on your way to Ropecon or have another con in your future, I hope you have an easy and wonderful time!

Tomyris: Standing for Women

The Greek historian Herodotus tells us a story about the death of the Persian king Cyrus that centers a fascinating female character, Queen Tomyris of the Massagetae.

Cyrus, king of Persia, wanted to expand his empire eastward into the lands of the Massagetae, a nomadic people ruled by their widowed queen Tomyris. Cyrus at first proposed marriage to Tomyris as a ruse for conquest, but she refused him. He then mustered his army and prepared to invade.

Cyrus’ adviser Croesus cautioned Cyrus against trying to fight the wild Massagetae, but since Cyrus was determined to proceed, Croesus proposed a stratagem to overcome them. Following Croesus’ advice, Cyrus led his army into Massagetae territory, then had them make camp and prepare a sumptuous feast with plenty of wine, but they did not eat it. He then withdrew with most of his army, leaving behind his weakest soldiers.

When a part of the Massagetae army led by Tomyris’ son Spargapises came upon the Persian camp, they easily defeated the Persian troops there. Then they saw the feast. Being used to living rough, they had never seen such an amazing spread of food before, so they immediately sat down and filled their bellies. When the feast had made them all drunk and sleepy, Cyrus led the rest of his army back to attack them, easily defeating the Massagetae warriors and capturing Spargapises.

When Tomyris learned of her people’s defeat and her son’s capture, she sent a message to Cyrus proposing a peaceful end to the conflict: if Cyrus returned Spargapises safe, Tomyris would allow the rest of Cyrus’ army to retreat from her lands unharmed. If he refused, Tomyris promised to satisfy his desire for blood. Cyrus refused, and when Spargapises came to his senses and found himself a prisoner, he killed himself.

Tomyris then marshaled the rest of her people and fell upon the Persians. The fighting was intense, but at the end of the day the Persians were routed and Cyrus himself was killed. Tomyris found the body of Cyrus and thrust his head into a wineskin full of blood, fulfilling her promise to slake his thirst for blood.

It’s a good story, as many of Herodotus’ are, but what are we to do with this as historical evidence? Did any of these events happen? Did Tomyris even exist?

We have reasons to be skeptical. No other historian mentions Tomyris, not even other historians who wrote about the life of Cyrus. The story Herodotus tells is full of dramatic moments that sound like they come from a Greek tragedy rather than from history. Cyrus figures as the tragic hero, a noble leader driven by ambition to attempt something that wiser men warn against and meeting an ironically fitting end. Tomyris’ line about sating his thirst for blood is a bit too on-the-nose to be real. Does anything in this story hold up?

The Massagetae at least were a real people, known from plenty of other sources, one of many nomadic cultures of the Central Asia steppes. Ancient sources are uncertain about their location, placing them anywhere between the Caspian Sea and the Altai Mountains, although whether this variation reflects the migrations of a mobile people, smaller sub-groups joining and leaving a tribal coalition, or just the ignorance of Mediterranean writers about the geography of Central Asia is hard to say. Among many ancient steppe cultures, women could wield both weapons and power. The idea that Cyrus died while leading an unsuccessful campaign against steppe nomads is likely to be true, and it is plausible that those people might have been ruled by a woman.

The rest of Herodotus’ narrative has more to do with Greek literature and oral tradition than with historical events, but that narrative also serves a larger point for Herodotus. Many powerful and wise women feature in Herodotus’ account of history. Tomyris is the first whose story he tells in detail, but she is followed by many others in both large roles and small, with Artemisia of Halicarnassus, who commanded her own ships in Xerxes’ invasion of mainland Greece, among the most prominent. Tomyris in some ways prefigures Artemisia: a wise warrior queen who gives the Persian king a chance to save himself from defeat and embarrassment, though he fails to heed her.

Tomyris appears near the beginning of Herodotus’ history, playing a role in the life of the first Persian king; Artemisia comes in at the end, taking her place next to the last Persian king to feature in Herodotus’ text. The repetition of the theme of the wise warrior woman at both the beginning of Herodotus’ history and at the end gives it a particular weight and prompts us to consider what point the historian was making. Herodotus’ text is layered with subtle messages, and many of the stories he tells have some applicability to the audience he was writing for. Herodotus lived and worked in Classical Athens, a society in which the status of women was low.

Women’s participation in Athenian social and political life was a casualty of democracy: since Athenian democracy was based on solidarity between citizen men across class lines, as manifested in all-male institutions like the voting assembly and the hoplite militia, the stronger the democracy was, the more women were pushed aside. Herodotus was a fan of democracy. His text points out how democracy, and especially the Athenian version of it, gave the Greek allies the strength and resilience to resist invasion by the monarchic Persian Empire. At the same time, he also seems to have been warning his Athenian audience that by leaving women out of public life, they were squandering one of their most valuable resources.

While contemporary Greek philosophers and playwrights were denigrating women’s capacity for rational thought and scoffing at the idea of them playing a role in politics, Herodotus had a different message. In his narrative, women can both lead military forces to victory and give sound advice on political matters, two areas of life that Athenian women were barred from. Herodotus’ women keep their heads in a crisis, and powerful men would be better off if they listened to what women told them.

Tomyris may be a fictional or heavily fictionalized character, but she helps us understand a critique of Athenian democracy as framed by someone who both lived with and admired it.

Image: “Head of Cyrus Brought to Queen Tomyris” via Wikimedia (Museum of Fine Arts, Boston; c. 1622-1623; oil on canvas, by Peter Paul Rubens)

Winter Light, Summer Light

One of the things I love so much about living in Finland is the light. In every time of the year, the sunlight is beautiful, but the winter light and the summer light are so different from one another that it can be striking to see.

One day last winter we had a particularly beautiful day of clear skies and sunlight after a big snowstorm. I tramped out in our local woods and took a few pictures of the winter light on the snowy trees. Now that midsummer is here, I went back and took pictures of the same scenes to compare the summer and winter light.

Every season has its own special beauty.

Images by Erik Jensen

A Decade of Co-Geeking!

We started this blog together back in June 2015 with no grand ideas or plans, just wanting a place where each of us could post about the things we geek about and where we could post jointly about the things we geek about together. We had no idea what the next decade would bring us, but it’s been a fun ten years, and we’re still at it!

2025 05 Vanha Porvoo yhteiskuva

For a little celebration, we decided to take a short trip to a place we’ve both been interested in visiting for a while: the old town of Porvoo. Porvoo is a small city on the Finnish southern coast a little to the east of Helsinki. It’s like most Finnish cities except for its remarkable old town.

2025 05 Porvoonjoki ja rantamakasiinit

A large portion of the northern half of the city is made up of well-preserved colorful old wooden houses along cobblestone streets, all surrounding a medieval church.

2025 05 Porvoon keskiaikainen kirkko

While many of the house exteriors are legally protected, it’s not a museum or living history exhibit, just a part of town where ordinary folks and families live. Walking around there, though, is a little bit like stepping back in time.

2025 05 Vanha Porvoo Kellokujan aurinkokello

Whatever brought you to Co-Geeking, we hope you’ve enjoyed our work. We look forward to another ten years, and who knows how many more!

Images by Eppu Jensen

The Reimagining of Laocoon

The sculpture of the death Laocoon and his sons is one of the mot famous works of ancient art. Carved from several pieces of marble that were fitted together with metal pins, it represents a dramatic moment from the legends of the Trojan War. When the Greeks carried out their ruse, pretending to withdraw from Troy but leaving behind a giant wooden horse, the Trojans were skeptical. While some Trojans wanted to bring the horse within their walls, the priest Laocoon warned the Trojans not to trust the Greeks. The god Poseidon, who favored the Greeks, sent a serpent from the sea to kill Laocoon and his sons, which convinced the Trojans to reject Laocoon’s advice and bring the horse behind their walls, unwittingly sealing their city’s doom.

This marble statue, depicting that dramatic mythological moment, has a dramatic history of its own. It was found in pieces in the soil of an Italian vineyard in 1506 and quickly gained attention. One of the first people to see it was the artist Michelangelo. Classical scholars noted that the Roman author Pliny had described with admiration a similar statue of Laocoon, and believed that this work was the very one that had impressed Pliny. The fragments were acquired by Pope Julius II for display in the Vatican palace. Several of the major artistic names of the Italian Renaissance worked on restoring the fragments and carving replacements for parts that were missing, among them not only Michelangelo but Raphael and Bramante.

In some ways, the Laocoon was the perfect sculpture for time in which it was discovered. Interest in relics of Greco-Roman art was growing, and the rich and powerful were starting to regard the acquisition and display of antiquities as a useful mark of status. Among those antiquities, large-scale marble sculpture was the most highly prized. The belief that the Laocoon statue was the very same one that Pliny had praised conferred upon it a special aura of authenticity. It was not just any ancient statue, but an ancient statue with a known origin and history, whose quality was vouched for by one of the great names of Roman literature.

At the same time, while the authentic antiquity of the sculpture was crucial to its value as a collector’s prize, it was also particularly suited to contemporary tastes. The fine delineation of the figures’ musculature in a pose of high emotional drama was perfectly adapted to the interests of artists of the Italian Renaissance. Even though it was a product of pagan Rome, the subject and its execution had resonances for a Christian audience. The agony of Laocoon’s body in a moment of divine intervention made a parallel to the agony of Jesus on the cross. The slithering serpent attending on a moment of fateful choice echoed the tale of Adam and Eve. For a Christian pontiff who was also a powerful political figure and a connoisseur of Classical art, it is hard to imagine a more perfect sculpture.

(The sculpture was so perfect for Julius, in fact, that one scholar has suggested that it was not an actual ancient sculpture but a forgery by Michelangelo himself. The evidence for this idea is weak, however, and it has not found wide acceptance among scholars.)

Yet, as perfectly adapted as the Laocoon sculpture was to the time in which it was discovered, times change, and the sculpture has changed with them. Since the Pope’s artists first reassembled the sculpture pieces and created their own replacements for the missing parts, the Laocoon has not remained the same. Over the past five centuries, artists and restorers have repeatedly gone back to the sculpture and changed it, readjusting the positions and postures of the figures, creating new replacements, and treating the surface. The position and postures of the two smaller figures has been changed. The angle of the main figure’s arm has been revised. Traces of paint were cleaned away to make the marble gleaming white. The Laocoon that we can see today in the Vatican Museums is, in important ways, not the same sculpture that came out of the vineyard soil in 1506.

Whenever we look at an artifact from the past, we must bear in mind that what we are seeing is usually not what the object originally looked like. The Laocoon statue is perhaps an extreme case, given how much attention it has garnered since it was first excavated, but we always remake relics of history to better fit what we in the present think the past should look like. Julius and his artists wanted a complete and glorious masterpiece of Classical art, so they made one out of the pieces from the vineyard. Today we want an instructive and historically accurate piece of sculpture, so we have removed many of the replacement pieces carved by the pope’s artists and rearranged the original pieces in ways that we think are more authentic. Yet since long before 1506, no one has seen what the Laocoon sculpture originally looked like, and no one in the future ever will.

Thoughts for writers

Just as Michelangelo and his fellow sculptors reimagined a relic of the past, whenever we look to the past to inspire our writing, we are always creating our own version of it for our own needs. However much we may seek and value historical accuracy, we are telling stories in and for our own times; they will always reflect what we believe and value about ourselves. This is a strength of fiction and fantasy, not a weakness. The important thing is to be thoughtful and purposeful about how we use and reimagine history when we look to it for inspiration and not let our unexamined, unthinking biases shape how we understand it.

Image: Laocoon and his sons, photograph by Wilfredo Rafael Rodriguez Hernandez via Wikimedia (found at Rome, currently Pio Clementino Museum, Vatican; 1st c. BCE-1st c. CE; marble; believed to be by Agesander, Athenodorus, and Polydorus of Rhodes)

A Eurovision 2025 Flag Carousel

Every year when we watch the Eurovision Song Contest, I find myself distracted from the music and stage shows by all the European flags. I enjoy seeing all the different combinations of colors and designs, and every year I find myself thinking: “I wonder if I could organize the Eurovision flags in such a way that they flow from one to the next with similar colors and patterns?” Well, this year I finally decided to try it, so here it is! My Eurovision 2025 flag carousel, starting with this year’s host, Switzerland, and circling through the flags of all the other participating countries!

Why did I make this? No good reason. Just because I wanted to.

Should you care? I really can’t think of any reason why you would.

But if you’re a fellow fan of flags, I hope you enjoy it!

Image: Flag collage by Erik Jensen; flag images from each country’s Eurovision Wikipedia page