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Genghis Gal - by KarenC

Playing with the enemy’s heads

November 9th 2006 13:00
(Warning before you proceed: Contains really gross historical details)

Polo began in Central Asia circa 500 BC, according to many sources. You know the game: a few horses, some sticks, some Englishmen and a ball. Right? Well, not necessarily. The Mongolians took this great game to a new level, supposedly playing with the heads of their vanquished enemies as they rode on the backs of their strong, stout horses. Although this version of history has its doubters, I am not one of them. Those crazy Mongol conquerors – pretty much anything went with those guys. And why not? They ruled the world.


One of the great tactics of the conquering hordes of Genghis Khan was, quite simply, fear. They used this unbelievably effectively. They have the reputation – of which I am sure you are aware – of incredible cruelty, brutality and ferociousness. In most cases it is just that: a reputation. They punished with cruelty, brutality and ferociousness, but if you learned the bloody lesson you were spared. Yet it was this reputation that they relied on to keep them powerful and to ensure their momentum was maintained as they rolled relentlessly through Central Asia and on into Eastern Europe.

There are horrific stories of towns that refused to surrender being laid waste, every man, woman and child put to the sword. And before they killed every last inhabitant, the Mongol conquerors would ensure that the person in charge of that town, the person directly responsible for refusing to surrender to their inevitable onslaught, died a particularly nasty death. A story that has stayed with me for years is the punishment inflicted on the leader of a town who not only refused to surrender but demanded that the Mongols paid him gold in order to hand over his town. When the Mongols eventually defeated his city they poured molten gold down his throat as a symbolic punishment. (Note to any historians reading this post: I may have embellished this story over the years through pure horror, I’m no longer entirely sure.)


Brutal? Certainly. But what it achieved was the effective surrender of every single town they came across for the few months. Who would want that type of torture and inevitable death inflicted on them? And for what? Most of the people they were overrunning had no clear leaders anyway, the regions often being in a state of conflict as it was, or at the mercy of warring tribes. And when the Mongols conquered peacefully, they incorporated these conquered people into their empire and their realm and they were able to go about life pretty much as it was before the onslaught of the Eastern horsemen. It’s really that simple.

So why am I telling you this detail? Well, I’m kind of hiding under the pretext of history here, so really it’s only to say that I believe strongly that the Mongols did take polo to an additional level and that they did play with the heads of the defeated. Their tactic was fear and their end game was the control of everything that stood in their path. They may only have played 'enemy head polo' once, and it may only have been for a minute, but the effect of this one game was so strong that it lives on 600 odd years later. Imagine what the effect was in the next town they visited …

Would you mess with that?
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Anyone for a slice of Mongolia?

October 28th 2006 13:24
I went to see The Cave of the Yellow Dog the other day with my mother. I should probably thank National Geographic Explorer’s Club for my free tickets. The Cave of the Yellow Dog is a beautiful movie set in Mongolia. Those of you who already know me will be reasonably familiar with my slight obsession with Mongolia and the Mongolian conquest of the 14th century. It’s true. I’m obsessed. But it’s so difficult to find any kind of outlet for this obsession. I mean, how many movies are set in Mongolia? How many books are set in Mongolia? And, in all honesty, how many history altering events have occurred in Mongolia?

Very few.

So it’s so refreshing to have a new film maker on the scene who not only shoots movies about Mongolia, she is Mongolian and so adds a wonderfully personal element to the stories she films. Byambasuren Davaa first shot to ‘fame’ when The Story of the Weeping Camel took the western world by storm. Or should I say, slowly infiltrated the west and made them cry with the absolute joy and simplicity of the story of a white camel rejected by its mother. Who would have thought that such a simple story could be so slow, so moving, so beautiful and still be nominated for an Academy Award? Luckily, it’s not just blockbusters that impress and so this wonderful movie came to the attention of many people in the West.

The Cave of the Yellow Dog is not, in my opinion, as good. But for me it’s not about the quality of the movie but the story it tells, not just about the eponymous Yellow Dog but the story of the Mongolian way of life. There were so many things I loved about Yellow Dog, but what I loved the most was seeing the Mongolian way of life up close and personal. In The Weeping Camel, we see the dichotomy many traditional nomads face: to move to the city or maintain their traditional way of life? We see the introduction of television, the allure of the big city, the introduction of major sporting labels into the clothing selection of the main characters. That’s not even remotely what the movie itself is about, but I loved the subtle introduction of these themes into the main story.

With Yellow Dog, it’s all about the nomadic way of life. Very little impinges on this. We see the motorbike the father rides, and we see the daughter, Nansal, coming back from school in modern clothes but immediately changing into the traditional deel. Only one other time does the modern world come into the movie, when Nansal’s father goes away to town and brings his wife back a green plastic ladle to replace her broken steel and wooden one. This, however, quickly gets destroyed and we see the father patiently repairing the old ladle.

The movie itself is slow and if you’re a movie buff I would recommend watching The Story of the Weeping Camel, a far superior movie. If you like a good blockbuster action movie, I would recommend you steer well clear of both these movies. But if you’re interested in learning more about a vanishing way of life, about some of the last true nomads, the descendents of my favourite historical character Genghis Khan, these two movies are (to the best of my knowledge) one of the only places you can turn. You could do worse than spending a couple of lazy hours with these two movies, discovering this beautiful world.
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I just love reading. I love being taken to another world, experiencing another set of values, meeting another set of characters. It’s the most exhilarating feeling to be caught up in a world completely of someone else’s creation, laughing and crying with their characters, experiencing their joy and sadness, seeing another world through their eyes. It’s a wonderful talent to be able to transport a reader to another time and place, and it’s a wonderful talent to experience.

Of all the characters I’ve ever met in my reading forays, I would most like to be Jane Austen’s Elizabeth Bennett, apparently a character very close to Jane Austen’s own persona. She’s witty, intelligent, caring, and extraordinarily frustrated by the confines society imposes on her. She operates within them, but is always pushing the boundaries of social decorum and acceptability for a female in her situation. She is, despite her happily-ever-after ending, one of the great early feminist characters (I know this is an anachronism, but I’m going with it anyway) and I love her for this. And she gets to spend the rest of her days with Mr Fitzwilliam Darcy, one of the most incredibly sexy men in fiction. And one of the most sexy men on the screen, thanks to Colin Firth who (I think most of the female population will agree) was the perfect man to play this complex character.

Of all the other characters I’ve ever met, I wouldn’t mind being Arwen in The Lord of the Rings. She’s strong, fair, brave, beautiful and immortal. She also ends up with Aragorn. When I was young, I thought Strider was the most incredible man I’d ever encountered, until I met Mr Darcy. I had a massive crush on this dark, brooding character who holds the answers to saving his world; who knows the sacrifices he and his fellow Rangers have to make in order for good to triumph over evil; and who knows the sacrifices Arwen has to make to be with him. I just can’t imagine him ever taking his Elven goddess for granted.

I wonder if it’s a coincidence that, although I love Elizabeth and Arwen in their own right, of all the characters I could choose to be I have chosen the two who end up with my all-time favourite male characters. Mr Darcy and Strider have perhaps destroyed me forever, dooming me to being a singleton to my dying day. No man could possibly be as perfect as these two. Noble, devoted, strong, sexy, intelligent … I could go on. Would I sacrifice them for a real man? Absolutely, but I haven’t yet met anyone I would give them up for. And so, until my own Mr Darcy comes along, I’m happy to imagine myself as Elizabeth Bennett before she realises what she has before her, making copious mistakes with people like Mr Wickham. After all, it was these experiences that led her to her Mr Darcy in the first place.

Perhaps my own Mr Darcy is just around the corner … And until then, I’ll never be alone with my library of books and the plethora of wonderful people who inhabit them.
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I’ve recently done a post about travelling through time and not only did it raise some amazing time travel scenarios, it also raised some really interesting questions. (Shameless plug 1: http://www.swansgal.com/if-you-could-time-travel-where-would-you-go-and-what-would-you-do/#comments) It also meant I had to put a new blog up, since I decided the Sydney Swans and esoteric History posts weren't really compatible.

The two posts that I found really fascinating in their implications were


[ Click here to read more ]
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