Bitter Irony

Reconstructing what I was like in the 13th century- someone who was trying to advance in the cutthroat world of medieval politics- builds the picture of an opportunist albeit a very idealistic one.  Someone who played carefully by the rules and never rocked the boat.  Someone I couldn’t really relate to nowadays.

And now I think I know what changed me.

At the Battle of Bouvines in 1214, King John was risking everything to maintain and expand his territories in France.  The future of Europe was at stake.

If we had won, I would have been in a prime position to advance from an Anglo-Norman earl to a proper Norman duke.  Every nobleman in England aspired to one day hold land in France.

701 years later, I finally became a landowner in almost precisely the part of France where I’d fought for it so long ago.  That’s what we called it back in 1915 when you were dead and buried.

What a bitter irony.  I’m starting to think there is more to this Karma thing than meets the eye.  Apparently, you can get spanked by it pretty hard.


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