“She also learned from the books ‘the manner of the fits of Mr. Throckmorton’s children’ and set about about imitating them.  It has long been suspected that trial pamphlets and and similar literature helped spread ideas on witchcraft, but such striking evidence of so direct a connection between a printed account of one case and what happened in another is very rare.” (8)

It’s very easy to forget, especially in a day and age in which one can simply type “witchcraft” and be met by literally millions of documents within a matter of seconds, the scarcity of and also the engagement with which a person would’ve approached any given document at the time.  Today, even just sitting back and idly skipping through things, we go through hundreds of pages of reading every week.  For Anne and her family, however, a gifted copy of a book on witchcraft might well have been the only new piece of literature for quote some time with which to meet the boredom of daily life, as well as, as we’ve seen, its necessities.  It’s so fascinating to see the massive changes that come from such seemingly trivial dispersals of information.  Before the printing press, there would have been a massive rift between the secretive and esoteric knowledge of witchcraft kept by figures of authority and the simple, folk and word of mouth-based conceptions a commoner would have held.  As we see important, high-sphere tales and events such as trial transcriptions and histories being dispersed to more and more people, there is as well present a real shifting of power.  Anne, her father, and the the Kirfootes are able to take their supposed witchcraft case all the way to the king.  In a way, this expresses the opportunity that information brings, and its equalizing effect to a certain degree.  Anne and Brian Gunter, in a strange and roundabout enough way, really learned an entirely new trade with they new knowledge: that of witchcraft exploitation.  The information bestowed upon them by these however limited sources granted them a social, economic, and even political power almost unheard of hitherto.

“Traditionally, western society has viewed women as weak and incapable of a public role; to be successful, a woman must move away from the expectations of her gender and ‘act like a man.’  But to do so makes her unwomanly, possibly even monstrous.”

This quote very well illustrates the issues that plagued Elizabeth’s rule in terms of her authoritative role as a monarch.  As is literally exemplified by the title, “The Heart and Stomach of a King,” Elizabeth’s rulership over England was marked by a sort of authoritative androgyny due to her having to cope with the strenuous role of being a woman in the most important seat of patriarchal power at the top of a deeply male-driven society.  Elizabeth’s ability to circumnavigate and balance the intricacies and political minutiae of her rule even given the predisposed challenges she faced can only be described as extraordinary, as she maintained the legitimacy of her rule through an incredibly tumultuous time in English History.

“Father, you are well aware that it is the abbey custom that knights and laymen are received in the Abbot’s house, if he is home.  I cannot and will not entertain your guests.” (pg. 7)  I think that this quote very well demonstrates many truths about the world and the state of society in which the Chronicle of St. Edmunds takes place.  For one, we have the role of custom and tradition.  The knights must be received properly by the Abbot, and everything must go as accorded by the custom of the past.  This also, however, like many other traditions in the time period, enforces the utilitarian notion of social custom, and in itself acts as a way to organize interaction between classes.  As we see throughout British History, tradition, custom, class, and morality are all deeply intertwined into one amalgamation of role and responsibility.

“Cathbad said that if a warrior took up arms that day, his name would endure in Ireland as a byword for heroic deeds, and that stories about him would be told forever. ” (43)

I think that this quote is representative of a very strange and somewhat tragic irony about characters in the Tain and their desire to be remembered.  Although a great deal of the Tain is focused with completing a simple determined purpose, or to living in the short term, this quote reflects Chu Chullain’s desire to be remembered forever.  Of course, there is a massive contrast between most characters not being remembered even past the scope of their short lives and this said ideal.  I think this is representative of both the development of writing in Ireland and with it the notion of permanent remembrance, as well as of a conceptualized degree of materialism and deep concern with the physical world that the Celts were a part of.