Tag Archives: historical figure

John Henry and Labor Exploitation (Legend)

Informant’s Story:
 “John Henry was a steel driver who, in a legendary contest against a steam-powered rock drill, died victoriously with his hammer still in hand, his heart giving out from stress.”

Context:
My informant first encountered the story of John Henry at about age six during elementary school. They vividly recall a subsequent encounter around age eight, when an episode of “Transformers” mirrored the themes of John Henry’s legend. In this episode, a Transformer, superior to all others, eventually triumphed, but at the cost of losing its humanity. This resonated deeply with my informant, “I feel like my heart got ripped out.” For my informant, the robot became a powerful metaphor for John Henry, emphasizing the importance of choosing one’s battles(They were 8 and loved Transformers, you cannot judge them too much).

My informant critically observes that contemporary adaptations, notably Disney’s portrayal in animated films and theme park attractions like Splash Mountain, tend to simplify or romanticize the story. Such retellings, they argue, overlook the harsh realities and exploitation of labor that underpin the legend. My informant’s insights reveal a nuanced understanding of the legend as something more than a story of human triumph; rather, it is a stark reminder of labor struggles and the human cost behind industrial progress.

Analysis:
The legend of John Henry embodies significant historical and cultural anxieties surrounding labor, industrialization, and human endurance against mechanization. My informant’s interpretation, while acknowledging the heroism in John Henry’s resistance, emphasizes the tragic futility inherent in competing against relentless technological advancement. This perspective challenges the common narrative framing John Henry solely as a triumphant hero, instead highlighting the exploitation of labor and the inevitability of human limitations when pitted against industrial machinery.

Furthermore, the legend’s enduring popularity, despite its darker implications, reveals deeper cultural tensions regarding the value of human life and labor versus technological efficiency and progress. The “timelessness” of the story, as identified by my informant, derives from its persistent relevance to ongoing dialogues about labor rights, automation, and social justice. This legend thus serves as a powerful reminder that meaningful societal change requires collective action rather than individual sacrifice alone, reinforcing the essential lesson to “pick your battles” wisely in the face of unstoppable forces.

Paul Revere

“So I went to high school in Boston, and we talked about Paul Revere in history class, probably because of our location and being in a city with so many historic sights—we even got to go on a class field trip downtown to see some of these sites he visited, such as the Old North Church, where Revere’s lanterns were hung as a first warning.
What I understood was that during the Revolutionary War, Paul Revere was summoned as a rider to carry messages across cities, and one day he got wind that the British soldiers in Boston wanted to go and arrest Samuel Adams and John Hancock, who were founding fathers, so he rode through Arlington and Medford (right by where I live) and yelled “The British are coming!” So that they’d be aware of this threat and could escape.
Later on I learned he didn’t actually yell that famous phrase, but I think the rest of the story mostly adds up.”


Context:
This was an in-person interview with another classmate of mine who told me about her experiences with this historical legend during high school. The text was taken from and recorded during our conversation.


Interpretation:
Paul Revere’s legendary ride served as a symbol of bravery and patriotism, representing resistance against imperialism and tyranny. It also serves as a nice source of historical pride for the New England region with its many similar figures.

Eilmer the Flying Monk

Main piece: There’s this, in the Abbey where my Gramps works, there’s a legend of Eilmer the Flying Monk. From what I remember, he is supposedly a monk who in the thirteenth century tried to fly by jumping off the roof of this abbey. And I don’t think he succeeded, but they call him the flying monk nonetheless. 

I definitely think it’s kind of farcical, it’s so British. Apparently he tried really hard… it is kind of referred to around Malmesbury, like there’s pubs named “Flying Monk” and there’s like, on the “Welcome to Malmesbury” sign, they have a sign about it. I think people just find it funny. 

People like to talk about him. He’s a fun kind of figure about the town that people know about. They’re like “this guy jumped off a roof in the 1200s and we’re never going to let him forget it”. You know, Malmesbury’s really small, it’s got a lot of history though, and I think that people just really like the image of a flying monk. Religion has a kind of social function there, but it’s pretty individual in their own take on spirituality and religion, but the center of the town is the abbey. The main street branches right off from that [the abbey]. And it’s kind of what people come to Malmesbury for. It’s a very small-scale tourist operation, people just don’t really come to Malmesbury. But when they do- I mean, the queen has been there – to the Malmesbury Abbey. My gramps met her there, once. 

I don’t think they have commercialized it that much. I mean, they have a 10k called the Flying Monk, there’s a beer, but I was never super aware of it being commercialized when I was there. It was just a story my dad told me. It might not even be Malmesbury companies that make it 

Background: O’s father grew up in Malmesbury, a town in Wiltshire, England. O has been visiting her grandparents (her grandfather is the town’s organist) and aunt, who still live there, once every year or two for a few weeks since as long as she can remember. He was the one who told her the story of Eilmer, and she finds it incredibly funny.

Context: When talking about Malmesbury, O immediately launched into a description of Eilmer the Flying Monk. Her grandfather (referred to as “Gramps” in the transcript) has been an organist at Malmesbury Abbey for decades, and O has spent a lot of time at the abbey with him, either spending time in the garden or in the graveyard of the church. 

Analysis: Malmesbury Abbey has a population of a little over five thousand, and much of its history occurred in the pre-Enlightenment era. As O said, the abbey is the center of a lot of the social life in Malmesbury, so it makes sense that their unofficial mascot would both connect to the historic events of the town, as well as the Church, even if it is in a fun, subversive way. Eilmer of Malmesbury was a real monk who in 1010 made an unsuccessful flying attempt using a primitive hang glider. It is believed that he broke both legs in the attempt (this was documented by historical William of Malmesbury). Although this is not widely known outside of Malmesbury or seen as a tourist attraction, the symbol of Eilmer of Malmesbury is seen as both a joke and a proud symbol of the Malmesbury people, an example Michael Herzfeld’s “cultural intimacy”, which is described as “the recognition of those aspects of a cultural identity that are considered as a source of external embarrassment but that nevertheless provide insiders with the assurance of common sociality” (Ginnging, 2)

Gingging, Flory Ann Mansor. “‘I Lost My Head in Borneo’: Tourism and the Refashioning of the Headhunting Narrative in Sabah, Malaysia.” Cultural Analysis 6 (2007): 1–29. 

“Eilmer the Flying Monk,” February 27, 2020. https://www.athelstanmuseum.org.uk/malmesbury-history/people/eilmer-the-flying-monk/.