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Ibn Fadlan and the Land of Darkness: Jurjaniya

In this section of the book, Ibn Fadlan mostly focuses on the extremely cold climate of Jurjaniya. The way to travel through Jurjaniya was to travel across the Jayhun River; however, due to the frigid weather, the river froze for three months, and they could not cross it. Ibn Fadlan stayed in a house during the duration of his stay, but even in the house, he was freezing. He and his group stayed in Jurjaniya for over three months due to this cold: “The cold and the hardships it causes were the reasons for the length of the stay” (Fadlan 8). He gives an anecdote about how two men took their camels into the woods without the ability to make a fire, and their camels froze to death by the next morning. He also mentions how beggars are even allowed to come inside other people’s homes and sit by the fire while they beg for bread. This place was unbelievably cold, even for those who live there. It was impossible for Ibn Fadlan and his traveling companions to do anything, let alone carry on with their journey, due to these conditions. He describes how his beard froze into “a block of ice,” and how the markets and streets were all bare because no one could withstand the freezing temperatures (Fadlan 9). After three months, the Jayhun River melted, and the group purchased camels and made foldable boats made out of camel skin to continue on their journey. 

I think Ibn Fadlan was particularly scarred by his visit to Jurjaniya due to the coldness. He goes on for multiple pages, intently describing how Jurjaniya was “the cold of hell,” but interestingly enough, he does not speak ill of the people in this city (Fadlan 7). In many different instances of this book, Ibn Fadlan does not hesitate to pass judgment on the people he encounters on his travels, but here, he describes, “The local people, with whom we were on friendly terms, urged us to be prudent as regards to clothing and to take large quantities” (Fadlan 9). I assumed that Ibn Fadlan would not be very friendly or warm to the people of this place because of his horrible experiences, but instead, he does not pass judgment and accepts their help. I also thought Ibn Fadlan might attribute the bitter cold to the people of Jurjaniya, pertaining to the seven climes ideology that was popular during this time, which stated that if the climate of a place was bitterly cold, they were closer to hell. Regardless, he spends a lot of time in Jurjaniya but did not say much about the culture or the people because the cold weather was so insufferable that he could not think about anything else. He may also have included such intense detail about the cold to excuse the delay of his journey. His caliph, back in Baghdad, sent him on this mission to spread his religion to the land of the Turks, and he was the original audience of this book. If Ibn Fadlan returned and the caliph was upset about how long his journey took, Ibn Fadlan would want to have these details that explain, or even exaggerate, the circumstances that led to his delay. 

Select The Travels of Marco Polo: Hormuz (Andrew Conte Post #4)

In this post I want to discuss how Marco Polo’s travel through India and China shows the evolving style of travel narratives/accounts. When we first started this class with Ibn Fadlan, his narrative of the “Land of Darkness” has a very personal feel to the story. While this has been the base line for our class, I want to put it into conversation with Benjamin of  Tudela. While Benjamin  still has his personal notes on his journey (specifically race, which I will discuss next blog post) it is not the same as Fadlan. We see that both the travel narrative and the travel account are blooming at very similar times alongside one another. How does this connect to Marco Polo? Polo is a culmination of the two ideas of what a travel text looks like. Polo (or Rustichello) blends the impersonal strictly “factual” (or as factual as one can get with personal bias obscuring the world) such as the four qualities that belongs to the people of the Khans while still talking about his own stories during his travels. We see that the idea of a travel text has evolved not only to show people back at home (who could afford to read the text)  serves to inform people of foreign areas (or also reinforce their ideas of what they want to believe) but also to fill their heads with mystical stories of wonder. The factual evidence begins with writers such as Benjamin of  Tudela who was very goal focused. Additionally, it is only natural to assume the human condition will add in it’s own perceptions of the world based on how the individual was raised. This can be seen with writers such as Ibn Fadlan.

The Book of Wanderings of Felix Fabri: Venice

Venice

After about two weeks traveling through Southern Austria and into Northern Italy, Felix Fabri and his group of travelers make it to the “Mistress of the Mediterranean,” Venice (Fabri, 22). The arrival in Venice marks critical progress in the pilgrimage towards Jerusalem and an important adjustment in his caravan’s means of travel. Fabri arrives in Venice on the 27th of April where he plans to stay for fourteen days to completely prepare for their long journey across the sea.  The tone of Fabri’s narrative changes in Venice, he focuses more on details of specific people of importance, and a new lighthearted and joyful energy is woven into his description of his journeys and the city of Venice itself. 

Once Fabri arrives at the spot where the “river glides into the jaws of the Mediterranean” he is overcome with an uncharacteristic sense of joy (Fabri 21). The crew sings a pilgrim song to praise the Lord and celebrate their feat of reaching the Mediterranean Sea. Fabri writes the song in his native German tongue, but it is translated into English and Latin which reflects his general interest in linguistics. The pivot from land travel to water travel is thoroughly described, Fabri notes many small trials and tribulations of the boats he embarked upon. This pattern mirrors Felix Fabri’s previous interest in the trails of his journey but through a different medium: “our boat was driven to one side by the shock, and struck upon a post which stood in the water, so as to threaten to overset” which shows his broader fascination into means of travel (Fabri 21). Despite the initial difficulties of boat travel, Fabri’s spirits remain uplifted as he slowly sails to the “famous, great, wealthy, and noble city of Venice” (Fabri 22).

In Venice, Fabri narrates a more well-rounded description of the city. He cares about the architecture, the natural beauty, the history, the language, the demeanor of the residents, as well as the influential people he meets. He names the Rialto and remarks on the impressive feat of Venice’s existence “we were astonished to see such weighty and such tall structures with their foundations in the water” presenting the city as a marvel itself (Fabri 22). When they reach their place of residence, Fabri is characteristically focused on language as a means of morality. He describes his hosts as “especially friendly…eager to wait upon us” and attributes this to their German nationality and speech (Fabri 22). Because “no word of Italian was to be heard in the house, which was a very great comfort to us; for it is very distressing to live with people without being able to converse with them” he asserts German’s superiority over Italians (Fabri 23). However, in this description, Fabri leans into something new – superstition – to further separate Italians and Germans. He describes a dog’s response to people of different nationalities. The dog (of German descent) receives “all Germans with joy” whereas it greets Italians (and people from all other countries that are not Germany) “as if it had gone mad, runs at them, barking loudly, leaps furiously upon them, and will not cease from troubling them till someone quiets him” (Fabri 23). Fabri dedicates a whole page to the dog and its varied reactions which differs from the rest of the narrative where he is greatly unconcerned with both non-religious superstition and animals.  As Fabri travels farther away from his native land, he becomes more attuned to cultural differences and more focused on presenting Germans as the superior group of people. 

Ibn Fadlan: Jurjanya

Ibn Fadlan’s last stopping place, described before he arrived in Bulghar, was Jurjanya. He and his caravan stayed here for quite some time due to the weather. They were trapped in this “country,” as he describes it. Jurjanya is near the Jayhun River, which he needed to pass in order to reach Bulghar. Upon his arrival in Jurjanya, the Jayhun river froze, which wasn’t necessarily what precluded them from continuing as “ horses, mules, donkeys, and carts slid over the ice” (8). It was the sheer cold that prevented them from continuing. They initially intended to stay here for a few days, but ended up staying for a little over three months. They had to have arrived in late November, as he states they leave in the middle of February, (this also lines up with the months the river would have been frozen). He also details the practicalities of his departure from Jurjanya: “ We bought Turkish camels and had boats made out of camel skin… We laid in three months’ supply of bread, millet, and dried and salted meat”(9). Fadlan describes the people as hospitable; a man invites him into his home to warm up by the fire, and he describes this custom as “it is a rule among them that beggars do not wait at the door but come into the house and sit for an hour by the fire to warm up”(8). Fadlan gives details about where he slept (more details than usual). He was provided a house to stay in. This house was “inside, which was another, inside which was a Turkish felt tent” (9). He also gives great detail of his clothing that he wore while attempting to stay warm. He said he was “wrapped in clothes and fur” while inside his house to keep warm (9). He also has an entire section describing the clothes they wore in Jurjanya.

            Fadlan heavily focuses on the weather and how these people survive the cold. He touches a bit on the customs of these people, yet those customs are still related to the weather. He describes the clothes that the “local people with whom we were on friendly terms” wore; they warned Fadlan about the importance of keeping warm (9). They wore “a tunic and over that a caftan, on top a cloak of sheepskin, and over that a felt outer garment, with a head covering…plain trousers, and another padded pair, socks. Horse hide boots… other boots” (9-10). This is the most description we get of anything from this culture… their clothes. In this section, Fadlan uses very specific and vibrant language to describe the weather. He is sure to get his point across about how cold it is.

            In other locations, Fadlan typically passes judgment on the people he is interacting with. These judgments typically reflect the culture that he comes from. In Jurijanya, his observations reflect a different aspect of his Islamic culture. He is very focused on the cold and describes the cold as “ a gate to the cold of hell” (8). Hell in Islam is imagined as cold and icy rather than hot and burning. They also believe the farther towards the poles they go, the stranger the people who inhabit these places are. Using this view of the world, it is clear why he was so focused on the cold: he may have believed he was on the cusp of hell. His reactions and focus on the weather also show the climate he is used to. He has never before experienced such weather in Baghdad. Instead of telling stories that show cultural practices, he tells stories of people who have died of the cold. He also recounts personal experiences with the cold, such as “returning to the house, I looked at my beard. It was a block of ice,” and “I saw the earth split and great crevasses form from the intense cold” (9). Remembering that he is writing his stories for the Calif can help discern why he focuses so much on the cold. He is trying to convey to people who have never experienced this cold before what it is like. This description of the cold sheds light on the climate and geographical “culture” he comes from.

The Travels of Ibn Battutah: Malli

As Ibn Battutah nears the end of his journey, he travels throughout Sub-Saharan Africa to what he refers to generally as “the Country of the Blacks.” In particular, he speaks at great length about the city of Malli. In Malli, Ibn Battutah becomes far less concerned with musing over beautiful architecture and religious spaces. It’s possible that this is simply due to a lack of this, or at least a lack of impression made on Ibn Battutah. More likely, I think, is that there was such extensive cultural and biological difference that Ibn Battutah observed that he was simply too shocked by these other differences to note architecture. His main concern, like it is in many other places, is hospitality.

He first reflects on how they provided for him and make them welcome, which he praises, but then he becomes quite ill upon eating a cultural dish – so ill that a friend of his dies – and this is where his perception of their hospitality begins to change. The next section is filled with hatred about how they treat visitors. Here, however, he shows a mixed reaction. While we can infer his view partially changes because he thinks himself poisoned, he does seem to feel much thanks to the men for concocting him a purgative that rids him of his sickness. This scene is a great reflection of our class discussion centering around how Battutah thinks of race and how his perceptions are related to aid and care. When he arrives in Malli, he receives the customary welcome gifts. Being on the receiving end of presents and care to make them comfortable, Battutah praises them beyond their race. Similarly, he still speaks well of them when they heal him during his sickness. However, resentment for the poisoning and a new realization that the gifts presented aren’t “good enough” change Battutah’s mind. 

One care that he maintains from earlier sections is that of rulers and sultans. After he heals, he visits the Sultan of Malli, who he immediately begins to say terrible things about, citing him as “miserly” and says his gifts are not sufficient (286). The only thing more he mentions is that they share the same religion, before going on to complain more about the gifts. Battutah expects that his gift will be lavish – robes, money, etc – but is appalled to find that it is no more than a meager amount of bread and beef. He then begins to dig into the character of the people of Malli, calling out his surprise at “their feeble intelligence and exaggerated opinion of something contemptible” (287). Here, we see quite clearly that he thinks his own cultural practices of welcome gifts to be far superior, and that he and his peers find non-monetary gifts to be insulting, though we gleam through the gift and the serving of the favorite cultural food earlier that, in Malli, those gifts are of the highest regard. He goes as far as to accost the sultan into giving him something better.

We learn the most about the beliefs and customs of Battutah’s own country when we are given a detailed account about what was good and what was bad “in the conduct of the Blacks” (289). It is interesting to notice that the things he praises are majoritively religious in nature, while the things he despises are majoritively cultural. For example, he praises the Blacks “avoidance of injustice” and the ways in which the Sultan “doesn’t allow anyone to practice it in any measure” (289-90). He seems to go as far as learning a new practice he finds fascinatingly positive and may be willing to enact himself, and that is the binding of the children until they learn the Qur’an. Religion usurps race and culture in Battutah’s view. Among the “bad” practices are the “comical” recitation of poetry, the nudity of women, and the food they consume, such as dogs and donkeys. This, Battutah finds abominable. Between this and the meal he fell ill from, we can see that he cares greatly about food practices and finds those in Mali animalistic and inferior. 

Ibn Fadlan: The Land of the Bāshghirds

From pages 23 to 25 Ibn Fadlan passes through a Turkish territory, and the people he meets he calls the Bāshghirds. The caravan had to cross many rivers before entering the land of the Bāshghirds. Interestingly none of the names of the rivers appear on the map, “The Journey of Ibn Fadlān, 921-922” (suggesting the names may have changed). Ibn Fadlan and his fellow travelers had to journey on these rivers on “folding boats made of camel skin” (22). He was impressed by the Jāyikh river which he says is “the most impressive and the swiftest” river he has seen (23). Additionally, the river they crossed to get to the land of the Bāshghirds was the Kunjulū. To leave the land of the Bāshghirds they also had to cross a river called the Jirimshān (and then many others). This is an interesting aspect, because there were very few concrete political borders at this time. The rivers, somewhat, outline the lands of different groups. This suggest that there was a reliance on natural borders at the time to define where people lived. When Ibn Fadlan is among the Bāshghirds he focuses on their religious and spiritual practices/customs. He observes that they keep wooden phalluses with them and some of them believe in twelve lords who oversee different aspects of the earth. Ibn Fadlan also observes religious differences amongst the Bāshghirds. He states, “We saw a clan that worships snakes and another that worships fish and another that worships cranes” (24). Beyond religion, Ibn Fadlan describes these people as “dirty” (23). He claims they eat lice and fleas after he witnesses one man do so.

                  In this section there is an emphasis on cultural divisions. Ibn Fadlan’s tone does not come off as judgmental or dismissive when he discusses their religious practices. It is indifferent and just sounds like he is recording what he sees. The part where his tone changes is in relation to their cleanliness and eating bugs. He calls them the “dirtiest” along with the “worst” which emphasizes his relationship to cleanliness. Ibn Fadlan’s deep connection to his faith and his job (Islamic Jurist) likely influence his perceptions. He is indifferent to their religious practices because the Bāshghirds are not Islamic, however, Ibn would take cleaning rituals very seriously. Therefore, he may associate moral value with dirtiness or cleanliness.

                  Additionally, Ibn Fadlan’s connection to his job and faith further influences his perceptions based on geography. Ibn Fadlan does not stay in the Bāsghird’s territory for very long based on his writings. A majority of what he witnesses (despite the instance with the man supposedly eating a flea) is their religion to which he is indifferent. Yet, he immediately makes assumptions about their qualities. He calls the Bāshghirds “the worst of the Turks” (23). This group of people also happen to be in the most northern part of Turkish territory (right before entering another territory-Bulghar). His perceptions of people are progressively becoming more negative as he advances north; which he would like associate with Hell and the tribes of Gog and Magog. Therefore, despite his short stay with these people, he considers them poorly and dislikes them immediately.

 

Ibn Fadlān. Ibn Fadlān and the Land of Darkness: Arab Travelers in the Far North.Translated by Paul Lunde, Penguin Classic, 2012.

The Travels of Sir John Mandeville: Medieval Map

The fact of the matter is that it does not even make sense to put the travels of Mandeville on any map that even tangentially holds to reality. Any map that even pretends to depict Earth shows that he either loved traveling in the worst possible way to get anywhere or that he was simply not real. Spoiler alert, he was not real. This becomes the most obvious when you see how he ping pongs across the Mediterranean. When you read the travels, it makes sense that he goes from where St. Nicholas was born to where he was elected bishop. That makes perfect sense, right? Nope! Not even a little bit. The monk who was sitting alone in his tower, thinking about St. Nick, must have thought that St. Nick travelled a couple of miles outside of his hometown and got set up as a bishop. But he did not do that at all! He crossed half the bloody Mediterranean to get elected bishop.  So this monk, or whoever wrote the travels, we’re not quite sure who wrote them, but given the content, of the centrality of the trip to Jerusalem, the focus on religious figures as he moves through the world, his knowledge of the places where religious figures were and his lack of practical information regarding their physicality it is safe to say that he was a monk. Let us just call him Tim, for convenience. (We can dismiss entirely the idea that Sir John Mandeville was a real person. He rarely, if ever, talks about how he gets to places, or the people that he talks to there, and the people he does talk to seem more like rhetorical devices than actual people.) So Tim has his OC, John Mandeville, and wants to take him along the paths that important religious figures in the past took, without any regard to geography. Tim wants John to follow these people’s itineraries, where they were and where they were going. What map do we use for that? Even on the most weird and fucked up t-map, even on one that centers Jerusalem, which I agree would seem to be the best in a story that clearly so centrally deals with Jerusalem, the trip from Patras to Myra passing over Kos and Rhodes, which he then goes back to, does not make any sense. If I am going to Cedar Point, in Ohio, with my younger sibling Teddy (a real trip that I’m looking forward to), and we leave from Pittsburgh and decide that we want to stop in Youngstown and Akron, we’re not going to stop in Akron and then double back to Youngstown. That’s going to add an hour to the trip, not to mention the cost of gas, Dr. Pepper, and Doritos that this detour demands. If you told me that you were taking that route, I would assume that you had not taken this trip and put it on a map. I do not need to tell you that the medieval costs of travel were astronomically higher than some petrol and snacks. This trip would get you killed if you had not planned properly. If Mandeville were real, this kind of stupidity would have gotten him killed long before he would have had the chance to write any of this down. Mandeville is so bogus that it does not make sense to use any map other than an itinerary map. Tim was not thinking in terms of geography but in terms of connections and temporality. Need more proof? John goes from Chios, passes Ephesus, to Patmos, then doubles back to Ephesus! Why does he do this? Because it follows the temporality of the life of John the Baptist. John the Baptist wrote The Apocalypse in Patmos and was then buried in Ephesus. Tim just likes to have John move through the word along with the lives of the Saints. It makes for an interesting narrative technique. It also makes it so that there is no real way for us to properly map John’s travels, except for the itinerary map. We could discuss the virtues of the other kinds of maps until we’re blue in the face, but the only way that we can look at the travels of John Mandeville on a map without dismissing it immediately as the merest glint of moonshine is by looking at it through the lens of an itinerary map. I end this blog post feeling as if I have spent my entire post belaboring a single point, but I feel as if it is an important one, and indeed, the only one that I can make. He was not real; he’s a narrative device. Everything that he does is for the sake of the narrative.

The bad way to get to Cedar Point https://maps.app.goo.gl/vBeUT6u2J5Mxkg9G9

https://www.canva.com/design/DAG3tET4e64/_6Snk3xgHFOzYt46ZtGRMQ/edit?utm_content=DAG3tET4e64&utm_campaign=designshare&utm_medium=link2&utm_source=sharebutton

https://www.google.com/maps/d/edit?mid=1uJCNSU-tfz4Smqy_qcJnyzDgTNMH_Cw&usp=sharing

Medieval (Re)interpretation of the Holy Places: Virtual Pilgrimage, Matthew Paris’s Itinerary Map, and Meditative Tools – The Pilgrim’s Guide

Margery Kempe- Rome-Norwich-Lynn

After spending sometime in Rome, eventually Margery is commanded by God to return to her home. She departs Rome with her travelling party who again reiterate the common fear that they may encounter thieves along the journey home. Margery again assures her company that God will protect them during their travels. A little outside of Rome, Margery encounters a young priest whom she had been exchanging letters and decides to accompany her and her ground to Middleburg. I presume to get to Middleburg  Netherlands Margery ends up taking the same route she took from England to Italy. Since she does not specify, and since it seems her way of getting to Italy was the common route for pilgrams, I assume she again went North up until Bologna where then she travelled through the Alps along one of the common trails. I assume then again she went up until Konstanz Germany until she got to Middleburg Netherlands. This was the route she took orginally to get to Italy and again seems to be a common route taken, so to me it would make sense for her to just use it again to return home, especially as she is travelling with a large group of people. I also assume her method of travel was the same meaning, she mostly walked and continued to stop in peoples’ homes to eat and sleep just as she did before originally.

When Margery arrives in Middleburg, most of her company initially boards a ship to pass the English channel whilst Margery herself chose to remain in the city a little longer. Eventually she boards a “small ship” to cross the channel where she encounters a large storm, fortunately she arrives in England where she thanks God for getting her through the voyage. Based on how quickly her companions were able to find a ship upon their arrival in the Netherlandsm and how quickly she was able to get a ship after them, makes me believe this is probably some routine ferry / ship route pilgrams and travelers take all the time to get between mainland Europe and England.

Eventually Margery arrives again in Norwich England where she gives reverence to the Trinity just as she did when she initially departed Norwich to make her way to Jerusalem. In Norwich she meets the Vicar of Saint Stephan’s where he asks her about her travels and where she requests again to wear white clothing. She meets a generous man who, after speaking to her about her tales, agrees to pay for her white clothes since she had no money because she donated all of it to the poor while in Italy. She then recieves Holy Communion on Trinity Sunday in her all white clothes.

Eventually her husband makes his way down from Lynn to Norwich and then shortley after the two return together to Lynn. The distance between Lynn and Norwich is rather small with no major rivers in the way so the two would be able to complete the distance hiking within 2-3 days just as she had done when she departed from Lynn to make her way to Norwich and then Jerusalem.

Eventually the two arrive in Lynn where again Margery encounters judgment from her peers and she eventually gets extremely ill. Though Christ assures her she will not die she is so sick she is sure of it. When she eventually recovers she decides she wants to go to Santiago in Spain and she sets out to get the funds from her companions in Lynn. I presume she wants to go to Santiago to visit the remains of St. James which is a popular location for Christian pilgrims

Benjamin of Tudela: Baghdad

For the first time in the text, Benjamin of Tudela spends more time talking about the people of a city than its architecture. Despite the grandeur of twelfth-century Baghdad, he spends comparatively little time discussing the monuments and far more time on the Caliph and the Head of the Captivity. Benjamin heaps praise on the Caliph with special note of his great charity. The Caliph is described as a generous and kind leader who treats the Jews in his city with grace as well as the Muslim citizens. He pays great attention to the hospitals run by the Caliph, especially their treatment of “the demented people who have become insane in the towns through the great heat in the summer” (59). That this care is worthy of note to Benjamin shows the rarity of care for the mentally ill in his own culture or the cultures he has traveled through to this point. The Caliph’s care for these people is a sign of his great benevolence. The scorching climate drives the reason from these people, but they are cared for and nursed back to health on the Caliph’s dime. Baghdad is depicted as a place where people are cared for, and its wealth is used for the direct benefit of the citizens. Even the Caliph himself is a man of hard work and virtue who “will not partake of anything unless he has earned it by the work of his own hands” (55). The public support channeled through the Caliph makes Baghdad one of the most uplifted cities Benjamin visits.
An even greater aspect in Benjamin’s eyes is the thriving and exalted Jewish community living in Baghdad. While in most previous sections, even the very short ones, he frequently lists Jewish leaders in the places he mentions, for Baghdad he lists all ten heads of the academies, the chief Rabbi, and the Head of the Captivity along with their pedigrees. Much attention is given to the Head of the Captivity as both the head of the Jews throughout the Middle East and Asia and as an important and high-ranking figure in the Caliph’s court. The office of the Exilarch commands respect from all members of the court regardless of religion upon threat of whipping (61). He occupies an exalted position which reflects a raised, or at least not oppressed, status onto the rest of the Jewish community. The honor he receives as well as the vast numbers of Jewish residents in Baghdad show the high quality of life they experience. The numbers of Jews he lists in each city increase as he travels through the Middle East. The numerous academies and high positions of respect and authority held by Jews make Baghdad a Jewish scholar’s dream, especially compared to the discrimination he had witnessed in other places along his journey. If Benjamin’s mission is to report to diasporic Jews where they might want to travel, then his account of Baghdad is his most glowing review thus far. It is a city of great learning with benevolent leadership and the center of Jewish religious authority.

The Itinerary of Benjamin of Tudela: Tyre – Jerusalem

Benjamin of Tudela’s description of Tyre reveals begins with the tangible aspects of travel: Tyre, he notes, is “situated upon the shore of the sea, and is a very strong city.” His observations of the city’s fortifications and maritime position reflect a pragmatic eye, one trained to notice strategic and commercial advantages. The mention of Tyre’s strength and its coastal geography situates it within the interconnected network of trade and pilgrimage routes that structured twelfth-century travel. Yet for Tudela, geography is never merely physical; it is also a map of diaspora. Tyre’s Jewish population—he records about four hundred Jews, led by “R. Ephraim, R. Meir, and R. Abraham”—anchors his attention as much as the city’s walls.

Benjamin’s descriptions of people and place often merge into a single concern: continuity. In Tyre, he catalogues not just who is there, but how they live and how they maintain ties to wider Jewish traditions. His focus on names, occupations, and religious leadership suggests a chronicler invested in documenting communal stability in foreign environments. This emphasis on local leadership also gestures toward Benjamin’s intended readership: fellow Jews scattered across the Mediterranean who might find reassurance in the persistence of recognisable structures of learning and worship. Tyre thus becomes both a waypoint and a proof of endurance.

Culturally, Benjamin’s account of Tyre reflects a dual consciousness typical of diasporic writing. On one level, he writes as a participant within Jewish networks of trade and kinship; on another, he acts as an ethnographer observing foreign societies. His attention to Tyre’s prosperity—its “fine buildings” and “commerce in glass”—signals respect for non-Jewish urban vitality, but his narrative remains centered on the Jewish presence within that landscape. The description therefore performs a subtle act of cultural integration: Tyre is both part of the Christian and Muslim eastern Mediterranean and an extension of Jewish geography. Benjamin’s itinerary transforms disparate local communities into nodes of a transnational religious identity. His mention of the “Sea of Tyre” situates his journey in physical space, but his careful recording of rabbis’ names situates it in cultural time—a record of continuity across distance.

When Benjamin reaches Jerusalem, his tone changes. The rhythm of his cataloging slows, and his writing takes on a weight that isn’t there elsewhere. Jerusalem, unlike Tyre or Damascus, is less a destination than it is a gravitational center. He describes its gates, its markets, and its sacred sites — the Temple Mount, the Western Wall — and these physical markers all orbit a sense of spiritual loss. He observes that only a small number of Jews remain in the city, living “at the foot of the Temple area,” sustained by devotion more than circumstance. Benjamin’s perspective here is full of reverence but also realism. He records the Christian and Muslim presences in Jerusalem without overt hostility, noting the coexistence of pilgrimage and power. But his attention to the few Jews who remain exposes the paradox of return: what it means being present in the Holy City but still displaced.

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