 |
Sub Rosa chronicles cultural responses to
surveillance, focusing mainly on the imaginative representations of
surveillance that explore its social, political, legal, and moral complexity.
Surveillance naturally appears in the development of culture as new exigencies
demand it and new technologies permit it.[1]
Instead of limiting this blog's scope to conventional ideas of surveillance, the James
Bond stuff, I want Sub Rosa to explore issues relevant to contemporary society, such as the impact that emergent
technology, like the Internet and Big Data, have had on our evolving notions of
what it means to engage in surveillance. It will endeavor to understand the
changes in our time by researching past cultural responses to surveillance.
Ours is not the only age to face the simultaneous emergence of new technology
and surveillance. Renaissance England witnessed profound technological
advancement in the form of the printing press. It was also the age of
Shakespeare, of a flowering of culture and the arts—as well as of a savvy
government spy apparatus that made use of the latest technology to spy on those
it governed. By examining this time and place (in addition to others), Sub Rosa participates in two very
different but related conversations: one about the literature and culture of
Renaissance England and another about how cultures respond to surveillance—of
all varieties.
Please allow me to take a moment to explain briefly why I chose the name Sub Rosa for this blog. In Latin sub rosa means under the rose. Roses were symbols of secrecy in Ancient Greece and Rome. Roman triclinia, or dining rooms, often had roses painted on their ceilings to remind those enjoying the flowing libations that whatever was said under the influence of alcohol, and there was plenty of wine to go around at a Roman banquet,
should also be said sub rosa, or in confidence: what happens there, stays there. Ancient Roman banquets were a lot like Vegas, except that Vegas doesn't have baked flamingo for dinner (as far as I know) or special latrines for vomiting (again, as far as I know). Sub Rosa held special significance in early modern England, when the Tudors held sway. Their official symbol was the Tudor Rose, which was painted on the ceiling of the room where Henry VIII and his councilors debated matters of state under the all-seeing eye of the Tudor Rose. Today the phrase is still in use, primarily by those engaging in covert military operations and by bloggers like me whose work is considered covert despite their best efforts.
|
 |
Here the Tudor Rose appears above Henry VIII's
blazon. Taken from Anno regni Regis Henrici VIII
quinto statuta, or, The Statutes from the Fifth
Year of the Reign of King Henry the Eighth, published in London by R. Pynson in 1515. |
I also am using this initial post to take the opportunity to introduce a new and different way to interact with and spread the word about Sub Rosa via Twitter. I call my revolutionary, new, and completely brilliant idea Canon Confidential. Here's how it works. Each time I compose a post for Sub Rosa, I will also send out a tweet from my Twitter account, @harpocrates_jr (Harpocrates was the Greek god of silence, and I, like Mr. Burton with Democritus, fancy myself an ersatz Harpocrates). This tweet will have a clue about a famous literary figure, usually an author, who was also a spy. Think you know who it is? Respond to @harpocrates_jr or retweet with the hashtag #CanonConfidential. Want to know who it is? Retweet the clue and see if your friends know. The answer will be at the end of the following post on Sub Rosa. I leave you with this remarkably detailed and skillfully crafted woodcut of the Tudor Rose (hec rosa uirtutis, this rose of virtue) supported by a coat of arms supported by a cooperative dragon and hound. Also, for those who are curious, the image above the ornate woodcut is a negative of the Tudor Rose as depicted in Stephen Hawes's 1509 Joyfull Medytacyon to All Englonde of the Coronacyon of Our Moost Naturall Souerayne Lord Kynge Henry the Eyght. Twenty-plus years of education and I couldn't grasp the intellectually stultifying concept of getting all my photos to have captions. Thank you, Blogger, for the humility.
No comments:
Post a Comment