Fact-checking the Renaissance Festival

In our ever more accelerated culture, medieval history often gets relegated to little more than a category on Jeopardy! The Minnesota Renaissance Festival, however, has been igniting peoples’ historical imaginations for 38 years in its otherwise sleepy location on the outskirts of Shakopee. One could argue that the whole point behind the Ren Fest is to rip Elizabethan England from the dead pages of books and return it to our collective cultural memory. It’s certainly a more lively and interactive way to learn than a stack of dusty textbooks. But, popularity aside, just how authentic is this ritual depiction of late-medieval life? The A.V. Club (and specifically, freelance writer and University Of Wisconsin medieval history professor Chris Freeman) surveyed the sights, the savories, and the stink of the annual fest with an eye on historical accuracy.

Dirty talk
Curs, crudes, carnies, and persons of ill-spoken tongue tend to be among the festival’s most memorable attractions. Crass comedy acts Puke And Snot and Vilification Tennis are among the event’s bigger draws. By contrast, no artist or performer living in 16th-century England could have made a living on lewdness alone. (Note to Adam Sandler: You were born at the right time.)

The right to party
Everybody in Renaissance society—from peons to aristocrats—was entitled to cut loose and have fun during festival time. Today, class and economic standing can be a barrier to mass revelry: Ren Fest gate admission costs a substantial $19.95 per adult.

Bosom
One of the most prominent visual displays at the Renaissance Festival is a pronounced presence of cleavage. Boobs are everywhere. We’re all better off for not living under the constraints of post-Reformation morality, but if you’re looking for historical accuracy, the exposure of those fleshy bits perverts the top-down structure of Elizabethan ethics. Seriously, the reason why you never see a pair of fabulous breasts in a vintage painting of Queen Elizabeth isn’t because she didn’t have any. Citizens of Elizabethan England kept their sexy parts under wraps.

The savories
The food at the Ren Fest is easily the best of any major summer festival, and what’s more, there’s a noticeable lack of waste: Folks bring their own cups and make do without plates.  While patrons don’t adhere to true 16th-century table manners by carrying their own carving knives, eating is definitely a hands-on affair. As for those ubiquitous oversized turkey legs that have become a Ren Fest staple, they were hardly commonplace in the actual era. Simply put, the bird was just too damned expensive for common folk. (As University Of Minnesota historian Bernard Bachrach put it, “On the contrary, the poor ate steak and lobster and the rich ate chicken.”)

Boozing
The mead offered at the festival is first-rate, and even the rarefied hippocras (spiced wine) is surprisingly good. High marks for the presence of female brewers at the event, preserving the Renaissance woman’s rightful position as a master of the craft. The lady-made mead is delicious and a welcome change from the usual low-grade, high-volume beer familiar to most local festival goers.

Pies
Where in God’s name are the medieval pies? The festival offers no pippen pies, no fish pies, no eel pies, no mince pies, no stewed sparrow or boiled rabbit—the stuff of which any memorable Renaissance meal is made.

The stink
The smells of the Renaissance Festival are tame compared to the “natural essences” that pervaded real Renaissance English festivals. But the air near Shakopee does offer a sufficient amount of its own suitable stink. The smell of brewing beer and roasting meat, hay, manure, sweat from the iron works—all distinctive, all historically consistent. Beware of an especially rank odor near the elephant rides.

Beasts
And what the hell are elephants doing here anyway? Chained and forced to give rides to spectators, this zoological spectacle represents the worst of modern American carnival tradition. That said, it does have authentic Renaissance roots: Bears and other wild beasts were baited and abused for entertainment. But, seriously… elephants? While there’s no sign of outright baiting or abuse, the sight of live elephants is the faux-historical and cultural nadir of the Ren Fest experience.

Games
Although the festival re-enactments of Renaissance gamesmanship are lacking in accuracy, at least the attitudes seem authentic. You’re not going to see any sledges thrown or bars pitched, no fire jumping, no wrestling, no stoolball or ten pins, and absolutely no hot cockles (the spanking game of choice for the period). What you are going to get is some admirably athletic jousting and commoners’ contests such as the King Of The Log, wherein two contestants batter each other mercilessly with sacks until one takes a fall. While King Of The Log is a modern invention, the festival players capture the period-appropriate spirit of public entertainment by emphasizing the staged and amateur nature of the competition.

Charity
Ren Fest proceeds are directed toward charitable donations for Minneapolis Public Schools. Charitable giving at public festivals was vital to the idea of celebration during the Renaissance, an aspect that seems completely foreign to contemporary American culture. Of the historical lessons on offer at this year’s Ren Fest, this one seems especially worthy.