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So I have this book on the role of the Magnus brothers (Johannes and Olaus) in sixteenth-century Swedish culture and its effects in Europe. And Olaus Magnus is now running around Italy hobnobbing with the other Catholics. And I got to this bit:
"Specialists have occasionally spoken of 'the four evangelists' among the first Catholic theologians of controversy: Johannes Eck, Johannes Fabri, Johannes Cochlaeus, and Friedrich Nausea."
Now. Not only does this sound like one of us, by which I mean a fantasy writer, made them up, but: the man's name is Nausea. Friedrich Nausea. Which leads to all sorts of phrases that make me giggle, like, "just as he became Nausea's representative at the curia," and, "sent Nausea's works to the cardinals." And I sit there and think wholly mature things like, "I tell you what, there are some American Catholics who have been highly tempted to send Nausea's Works to the cardinals in the last decade or so," or, "Yah, I know who's Nausea's Representative at that party/meeting/etc."
I was trying to drink my ginger tea and make my stomach quiet down so I could go on with the chores that need doing, and here the 16th century is, handing me Nausea.
I am mentally 12.
This is like the Abelian Grape Joke, only maybe worse.
"Specialists have occasionally spoken of 'the four evangelists' among the first Catholic theologians of controversy: Johannes Eck, Johannes Fabri, Johannes Cochlaeus, and Friedrich Nausea."
Now. Not only does this sound like one of us, by which I mean a fantasy writer, made them up, but: the man's name is Nausea. Friedrich Nausea. Which leads to all sorts of phrases that make me giggle, like, "just as he became Nausea's representative at the curia," and, "sent Nausea's works to the cardinals." And I sit there and think wholly mature things like, "I tell you what, there are some American Catholics who have been highly tempted to send Nausea's Works to the cardinals in the last decade or so," or, "Yah, I know who's Nausea's Representative at that party/meeting/etc."
I was trying to drink my ginger tea and make my stomach quiet down so I could go on with the chores that need doing, and here the 16th century is, handing me Nausea.
I am mentally 12.
This is like the Abelian Grape Joke, only maybe worse.
