It is with admiration for Dr. Dreinbach’s work in advancing our common field of study with which I respectfully respond to the following portion of his latest essay:
The description of the building has changed very little over the roughly 950 year period since it was first reported (Chapter Two covers these reports from the Duchy of Normandy). While some researchers attempt to point to earlier accounts, it was only in the mid 11th Century when the reports were fully standardized. I respond now to James Blake, professor of early-medieval architecture at the University of Staffordshire, who posits the following regarding earlier claims of its appearance in his paper Stones Dream of Marble:
“Two misconceptions revolve around the Castle of Daylilly. The first, and less scandalizing one, is that the earliest report of the castle originates from a monastery in the region of Anjou. I call it less scandalizing, as it preserves an essential truth, which is that the earliest claims of the castle’s sightings do in fact point to that monastery. However, these reports are not firsthand. The monastic account was transcribed by a priest sent by Prince Hyacynthe. Though the sighting is claimed to have occurred in 1012, the account was not written and compiled until 1039. Thus, it would be more accurate to say that the earliest claimed report dates to 1012. This leads us to the second misconception, one that is championed as decisively true by the majority of my colleagues. Recognizing that this position is unorthodox, I must significantly depart from this misguided belief which is touted as a fact. [Blake’s denunciation of the chauvinism of Daylilly academics is omitted]. The earliest firsthand account of the Castle of Daylilly is from a Venetian Merchant in Constantinople in 1014. [From here, Blake begins a screed on the historicity and use of the term ‘Byzantine’]... analysis done by linguists and architects in Turkey overwhelmingly agree that the structure described in the [Byzantine] Report is the Castle of Daylilly."
These “linguists and architects,” as well as Blake, through some combination of oversight and willful neglect have ignored the most significant distinction of the Byzantine Report. That report describes a tranquil scene, while every verified account of the Castle of Daylilly, spanning nearly a millennium, has emphasized the feeling of an immense debilitating terror.
Dr. Dreinbach mistakes this commonality, a “theme” of terror, to necessarily be the gatekeeper of an authentic account. Yet, as Professor Blake argues, the linguistic and architectural significance of the Byzantine Report is so significant that to disregard it would be a disservice to the discipline. We should not ignore the report on the grounds of what its existence implies. As professionals, we should seek not to needlessly restrict this subject to what we believe we know for certain, but to follow the evidence, even if it should unsettle the foundations upon which our scholarship rests. Discovering that our life’s work was misguided should lead us with a feeling of exhilaration, not despondency.