Jennifer Taylor is the author of the Rhythm of the Moon
series, published by Wild Rose Press. Her third and latest, Echoes of the Moon,
released in November 2017 .)
Good morning! I am delighted to have Dr. Alun Withey here with me
today. A year ago, while doing research for Heartbeat
of the Moon, I happened upon Dr. Withey’s excellent blog:
https://dralun.wordpress.com/
. He’s written an impressive number of informative and entertaining blogs on
subjects as varied as the significance of the beard throughout history, and
medical treatments for the time period.
Dr. Withey is an academic historian of medicine and the body, and a
research fellow at the University of Exeter. He did his thesis on medicine in
17th and 18th Century Wales. You can imagine what an
invaluable source his work is for an historical romance author like myself.
It’s like stepping back in time, without the risk of disease and bad odors.
Welcome, Alun!
Alun: Thanks for inviting me onto your blog!
Jennifer: You are
a 2014 AHRC /BBC ‘New Generation Thinker’. Can you tell us about that?
Alun: Every year
the New Generation Thinkers scheme gives an opportunity for 10 individuals to
work closely with radio and television producers to develop their ideas for
broadcast. It’s a highly competitive scheme, but is a fantastic opportunity for
anyone (like me!) who enjoys reaching a broader audience for their work.
Through the scheme I’ve been lucky enough to work on programmes for BBC Radio
and the BBC Arts TV channel, often live, which can be both exhilarating and
challenging, and speak to the public about my research. I’m certain that it’s
also opened doors in other ways.
Jennifer:
Your articles give readers a detailed glimpse into the everyday life of folks
in the early modern period. Since the heroine of my series is a midwife in the
18th Century, I’m particularly fascinated with your articles on
medical history. Here’s one of my favorites from 10/17/14: “Seventeenth Century
Remedies You’d Probably Want to Avoid.” https://dralun.wordpress.com/2014/10/17/10-seventeenth-century-remedies-youd-probably-want-to-avoid/
One of the treatments you uncovered for “collick” was to
distill the testicles of a chicken (do I
have that right?) and take a few teaspoons when the need arises.
Do you want to add anything to that? What’s one of the most
bizarre treatments you’ve ever come across?
Alun: Yes, you’re
absolutely right about the chicken’s testicles! When I’m looking at early
modern remedy collections I commonly come across one that I think must surely
be the most unusual…and then another one crops up to take its place. Two
favourites spring to mind: first is the ‘oil of swallows’ to treat shrunken limbs,
which involves catching 20 (or more) live swallows, baking them to a powder,
adding all sorts of oils and herbs, putting the pot into a hot dunghill for 2
weeks, then rubbing the oil onto the limbs.
The other is a cure for constipation, which directs the
afflicted person to squat down over a bucket of boiling milk for as long as
they can bear it…or until something starts to move!
Jennifer: I’m
trying to imagine how people ever came up with such unusual treatments. And
it’s also fascinating to think about how many people did survive and indeed
thrived in that time period. What, in your opinion, did they do right?
Alun: Studying
early modern medicine can be challenging. You have to balance cool academic
detachment with the urge to burst out laughing at times. In all seriousness
though, it’s important to remember that early modern medical remedies were
based on a perfectly logical, coherent and complex model of the body – the
humours. If you believe, as they did, that the body works in a particular way,
and that sickness is something to be driven out, then the majority of the
remedies make perfect sense. Also, the many ingredients that seem strange to
modern eyes are also based on their assumptions about the properties and powers
that they contained. So, products from animals, herbs etc, were all believed to
have certain virtues, which could be harnessed to cure particular ailments. I
often remind people that what we think of as modern medicine (biomedicine) has
existed for not much more than a century, whereas beliefs in the humours lasted
thousands of years. That being said, I’m not suggesting that people go hunting
for swallows, or chopping the ‘cods’ off chickens for their medicines!
Jennifer: You’ve written at length about the social
significance of men’s grooming. What would you like us to know about that?
Alun: The project
I’m currently working on is looking at the health and hygiene history of facial
hair, between 1700 and 1918. A big part of this is how shaving moved from being
something originally done by a medical practitioner (a barber or
barber-surgeon), and over time became part of the personal grooming routines of
individuals. It’s easy to think of personal grooming as something that is
unimportant and mundane. But the decisions involved in shaving (or not
shaving), the growth of male skin products, scents, and even things like
cosmetic procedures, all involve decisions. These can link into fashion, but
also other important things like health, ideals of appearance, masculinity and
so on. That’s why I think that it is important to capture the history of these
things over a long period, to see how things change and, perhaps more
importantly, why.
You are also the author of Physick and the Family: Health, Medicine and Care in Wales, 1600-1750, and
Technology, Self-Fashioning and
Politeness in Eighteenth Century Britain: Refined Bodies. I can only
imagine the tremendous amount of dedication and patience it takes to unearth
such detailed information.
Alun: I think if
you love what you do then the work is made much easier. I’ve certainly covered
a lot of mileage over the years, hunting for the sources for my books, but the
joy for me is encountering documents that probably haven’t seen the light of
day for decades. I’ve never lost (and hope I never do) the thrill of touching a
centuries-old manuscript, which was once the property of a real 17th
or 18th-century person, and with their words and thoughts on it.
It’s as close as you can get to actually being able to speak to them.
Jennifer: Alun,
I’m curious about what set you on the road to becoming a medical historian.
Alun: It was
actually a complete accident. In 2006 I was looking for sources for my
undergraduate dissertation, which I intended to be about the civil wars in 17th-century
Wales. I went to a record office on one particular day, and asked the archivist
on duty whether he knew of any contemporary sources. He thought, and then
suggested a 17th-century notebook in their collections, which nobody
had really worked on. I ordered the book up, and was immediately struck by some
remedies in it, including a cure for smallpox, as well as a pill ‘to make a
horse pisse’! I did some further investigating and discovered that very little
had actually been written on Welsh medical history, so this became the subject
of my undergraduate dissertation…which was published, and then informed my MA
thesis…which ultimately led to the PHD.
What I love most about the history of medicine is that
you’re ultimately dealing with people just like us – people who just wanted to
avoid being ill, relieve their symptoms and get better. Even if we put all the
grand theory and science aside, medical history makes us ask important
questions about the human condition, and our journey through life.
Jennifer: What’s
your least and most favorite part of your job?
Alun: I think the
favourite parts would be the actual process of research – the thrill of the
chase, and being able to pass some of these fantastic sources on, whether
through formal ways like the academic publishing and teaching, or to a wider
audience through the blog, or the media activities. It’s a joy to do.
I don’t really have a least favourite…although I guess
something like doing the final edits for a book, or especially the index, might
come close!
Jennifer: What’s
next for you?
Alun: For the
next two years I’m working on my Wellcome Trust-funded project on the history
of facial hair, so there’s lots of research to do, writing and (hopefully)
another book and other exciting things such as curating a museum exhibition in
London in November.
Jennifer: Music
is vital for me as a writer. Do you use music as inspiration for your writing?
Alun: I love all
sorts of music – especially the blues/rock, but I can’t work to it…I just end
up listening to the music without actually doing the writing. Instead I usually
put something gentler when I’m writing – often classical music (Vaughan
Williams is a favourite), or something acoustic.
Jennifer: Tell us
about your guitar playing.
Alun: I’ve been
playing for 30 years now and can’t imagine being without a guitar. When I’m
working there is always an acoustic guitar within reach and I often pick it up
and play absent-mindedly…helps me get my thoughts together. I used to have 12
guitars, but now it’s down to a more reasonable 8! There is still one guitar
that I’d love to own – a Gibson jumbo-acoustic. Next time I go to the States I
may come home with one!
Jennifer: Thanks
very much for visiting my blog today, Alun.
Alun: My
pleasure, and thanks for having me.
Alun Withey’s Bio: I left school with no clear idea of what I
wanted to do, and ended up in an office job, working for a major UK bank…where
I stayed for more than 10 years. I’ve always had a love of history though, and
especially the 17th century, and started to study whilst I was still
working. In 2003, with the support of my family, I took the big step of leaving
the bank and went to University, taking my BA, MA and, finally, my PhD on Welsh
medical history in 2009, funded by the Wellcome Trust. The rest, as they say,
is history! Finding medical history was a complete and happy accident.
Rhythm of Romance:
Where Love and Music Embrace
Historical Romance: Mercy of the Moon, Book #1 of the Rhythm of the Moon Series
Heartbeat of the Moon, Book #2
Echoes of the Moon, Book #3
2 comments:
Fascinating man and topic!
Thank you for the wonderful post/interview. I will definitely be tracking down some of DR. Withey's books.
Post a Comment