164
in areas where it is (or should be) relevant as
being able to use a computer. Producing the
definition file for the tags and realising their
implementation are, however, more complex:
but ‘not having the resources’ is ultimately a
matter of their not having been asked for in the
first place, and their importance within a
forward-looking project not having been
emphasised. At least in some fields, enough
people
able
to
implement
the
more
programming-oriented side of things are found
in research teams to
obviate the need to search
for outside ‘resources’, but such personnel
should anyway be found in university
computing departments or publishing houses
(but publishing houses also need to go a lot
further to develop away from the unthinking
attachment solely to the printed page). For
those without access to such resources, it’s far
from impossible to learn the necessary skills.
Even if it proves impossible to implement from
the outset a full-scale realisation of the
potential offered by the use of mark-up
language, the tags would would remain for
future
digital
implementation
without
additional work later and would in the mean
time still function for printing: I spend a good
deal of time tagging authors’ documents,
which involves an analysis of what is actually
intended structurally among a random plethora
of formatting, as part of the process of
typesetting. I reiterate, however, that the
opportunities implicit in mark-up language
will only be seized to any significant extent
when scholars realise their significance and
incorporate a demand for their implementation
in project-funding applications.
Of course, tagging with XML for anything
as complex as the sort of elements presented by
Frog takes time and effort, and may seem
tedious. Many aspects of research take time
and effort and seem tedious, but a vision of
what the effort affords ought to be sufficient to
motivate the activity. In the case of the
discussion of multiforms offered by Frog, the
discursive analysis would still be necessary,
but a fully tagged corpus of texts would
immediately offer primary material that could
be searched and assessed in terms of the many
elements he presents, rather than the reader
having to rely on a few small examples
presented in a very limited traditional
apparatus-bound format. Detailed tagging
enforces a fully disciplined approach: every
instance of every element has to be tagged, and
this forces the researcher to constantly assess
their analysis of the text and the elements it
contains, and update it as necessary. Once
tagged, endless opportunities for further
analysis open up: for example, to pick a simple
example, a formula or multiform could be
tracked against dialect, or date of performance,
or both, as long as these elements are tagged,
even if such an analysis was not specifically
initially envisaged. Naturally, further research
on a corpus of tagged texts would reveal
inadequacies in the initial perception of the
structural elements, so the basis of analysis
would itself naturally be revised: this is
characteristic of advancing research, but once
a text is tagged, it is obviously a comparatively
small matter to revise certain elements, without
the need to revise the bulk of the tagging.
The analytical advantages of having a fully
tagged text are considerable, perhaps inestim-
able. Once the appropriate programming is in
place – and this is indeed a specialist operation
requiring professional input, and therefore
needs accounting for in project management –
a plethora of presentational and analytical
opportunities opens up; we could imagine, for
example, a graphical mock three-dimension
screen representation of variants along the axes
of time and place, with particular multiforms,
and elements within those multiforms,
highlighted in appropriate manners. It is way
past the time to realise that producing digital
editions should not mean producing a 19
th
-
century-style apparatus-bound presentation of
a text, exactly as in a printed book, and then
shoving it onto the internet: yes, there has been
progress, but even examples of texts edited
with mark-up language do not always go as far
as could be envisaged, and more widely, most
of the potential seems to me unrealised most of
the time – rather than this being a merely
technical issue, it is for the creative scholarly
imagination to set the bounds of the agenda
here. Frog’s essay should act as a wake-up call,
illustrating, through its detailed presentation of
the many complex layers and elements of
textual structural analysis, just why we should
no longer be bound to 19
th
-century models of
text editing.
165
The Concept of Postmortem Retribution: The Surveyor's Soul as ignis fatuus (in
Lithuanian Material)
Jūratė Šlekonytė, Institute of
Lithuanian Literature and
Folklore
Ignis fatuus is a ghostly light seen by people
who travel when it is dark. According to a
wide-spread scientific theory, ghostly lights
that appear in moist places may be caused by
the spontaneous combustion of gases emitted
from rotting organic matter. However, people
once lacked such scientific knowledge, and so
developed
certain
beliefs
about
the
phenomenon of these ghostly lights. Thus, in
traditional beliefs, these lights were considered
otherworldly manifestations, opening them to
the formation of a peculiar mythic image
discussed here as
ignis fatuus.
Beliefs about
ignis fatuus [Latin ‘foolish
fire’] are found worldwide (motif
Ghost-like
lights E530.1 in Thompson 1955–1958).
Distinct terms for this phenomenon are found
in many languages, including Latvian
(
malduguns [‘misleading fire’]), Polish (
ogniki
[‘lights.
DIM
’]),
świecniki [‘candlesticks’],
świczki
[‘candles.
DIM
’],
błędne
ogniki
[‘wandering
lights.
DIM
’]),
Russian
(
блуждающие огни [‘wandering lights’],
болотные огни [‘swamp lights’],
бесовские
огни [‘devil’s lights’]), German (
Irrlicht
[‘false light’],
Sumpflicht [‘swamp light’]),
British English (
will-o’-wisp,
corpse candle,
jack-o’-lantern,
friar’s lantern), American
English (
spook-lights,
ghost-lights), French (
le
feu follet [‘foolish fire’]), Italian (
fuoco fatuo
[‘foolish fire’]), and so on. These are only a
few examples of a rich body of traditions
surrounding the concept of
ignis fatuus.
Lithuanian terms for it will be introduced
and discussed below. The Lithuanian Folklore
Archive contains nearly 500 belief legends
about
ignis fatuus from the 19
th
century to the
mid-20
th
century. However, ideas about this
entity continue to be recorded from inhabitants
of rural areas. These sources provide the
primary material for the present discussion.
The beliefs about
ignis fatuus form a very
broad topic and many of its aspects require
further research. In order to introduce the
Lithuanian material, this paper briefly presents
forms of
ignis fatuus, explanations of its origin,
its relationship to the human environment, and
its connection to the otherworld
as reflected in
Lithuanian traditions. Thereafter the analysis
narrows its focus to discuss more thoroughly
belief legends in which
ignis fatuus is treated
as a surveyor’s soul. The analysis raises
questions concerning why people of such a
profession must suffer as
ignes fatui, and how
this relates to the postmortem image of the
soul: the places of souls’ presence, and the
paths they wander. Although the phenomenon
is conventional in the legend tradition, this
paper considers how it appears to have
developed at the interface of the belief tradition
with historical processes and thus may reflect
a social tension from an earlier period.
Lithuanian ignis fatuus Traditions in
Overview
In Lithuanian folk belief, this ghost-light figure
is a being known as
žiburinis, a noun derived
from the Lithuanian word
žiburys [‘a light;
lantern’], and thus referring to the entity’s
radiance. Sometimes it is called
klystžvakė
[‘wandering candle’] or simply
žvakutė
[‘candle.
DIM
’] or
liepsnelė [‘flame.
DIM
’].
The time when
ignis fatuus appears is
usually restricted to periods when it is dark.
The lights are most commonly visible at
twilight or at night when the source of the
illumination is clearly distinguished
from dark
surroundings. Sometimes it is associated with
a mythic time, such as midnight. Observers of
this phenomenon sometimes point out that the
lights appear in the autumn. It is possible that
such belief extends from natural conditions:
natural emissions producing these lights are
more common during the autumn period than
in other seasons. In addition, autumn is a time
when days become shorter and a period of
darkness begins to prevail. According to
isolated accounts,
ignes fatui are candle-like