“You ask if I love you,” Charlemagne famously wrote to Queen Fastrada from the Avar front. “What can I say? You know that I do, and that this is just one of those games that we play.” The occasion for that letter was Valentimes, a little-known Frankish observance held on February 13 to honor a Roman citizen whose martyrdom in the jaws of a vicious bear was, historians now believe, a case of mistaken identity. Although little is known about Valentime, the Vatican recently named him the patron saint of supermodels and the illiterate, and the memory of his martyrdom lingers in a centuries-old custom by which undemonstrative men send costumed toy bears to their lovers as tokens of affection.

Those of us who harbor a passion for historical accuracy will observe Valentimes Day with ursine solemnity. However, because the spirit of Valentime demands that we tolerate misguided readers who venerate saints of far more dubious provenance, we offer this bouquet of music videos about love and romance to get you through a highly emotional weekend.

The great Louis Jordan loved Caldonia in spite of himself.

Neil Finn could have told him: she will have her way.

Boleslaus II may fought for his people’s independence, but in the 1970s we recognized only one macaronic Polish prince: Moja droga, jacie kocham…

Roger Miller at his best: “Leavin’s Not the Only Way to Go.”

The year was 1985, and Kid Creole couldn’t answer a simple question: “Why can’t you be like Endicott?”

To my knowledge, there’s only country song about the effect of faster-than-light space travel on a long-distance relationship: “Benson, Arizona.”

What do you get when you filter an English nursery rhyme, the inexpressibility topos, and mid-1980s progressive rock through the liver of a disheveled Scotsman? “Lavender.”

Jersey guy Pat DiNizio puts a sober Smithereens spin on “Well All Right” by Buddy Holly.

Got halitosis before that big Valentimes date? Take a handful of Mighty Lemon Drops.

Guys, today isn’t the day to drunk-dial the girl you lost to cocaine.

John Waite, of all people, gives us a heartfelt cover of “Girl From the North Country.”

I didn’t think much of the Sting song “Fields of Gold.” Then I heard the late Eva Cassidy perform it.

In the past two years, I’ve enjoyed the work of the writers and scholars whose sites comprise my blogroll. This weekend, as the kolbolds and bugbears on Capitol Hill flay all meaning out of the word “stimulus,” there is something you can do to support hard-working writers: you can buy their books.

So everyone is blathering on about “infrastructure,” but what really happens when shady politicians bicker over pet projects? Let Steven Hart enlighten you. Read his timely and terrific book The Last Three Miles: Politics, Murder, and the Construction of America’s First Superhighway.

In September, when Germans marks the 2,000th anniversary of the battle of Teutoberg Forest, you’ll want to have read Adrian Murdoch’s book about it, Rome’s Greatest Defeat. If you’re looking for highly readable introductions to Late Antiquity, check out Murdoch’s other books, The Last Pagan and The Last Roman.

Olen Steinhauer is a novelist to watch. His police procedurals set in Communist Eastern Europe beautifully evoke a sad, broken world, and his forthcoming spy thriller, The Tourist, has garnered lots of advanced praise.

Last year, Leslie Pietrzyk won over my mom, who called Leslie’s novels “much better than that stuff Oprah is always trying to get us to read.” Pears on a Willow Tree focuses on women in a Polish-American family; A Year and a Day tells the story of a girl dealing with a family suicide.

C.M. Mayo’s historical novel, The Last Prince of the Mexican Empire, is due out in May, but if you plan to head south of the border before then, you’ll want her much-praised Mexico: A Traveler’s Literary Companion.

K.A. Laity is just too prolific. Check out her books about folklore, fiction, film, and religion.

Cartoonist Alexis Fajardo loves a good epic. His all-ages graphic novel Kid Beowulf and the Blood-Bound Oath is now available, and you can already pre-order its sequel, Kid Beowulf and the Song of Roland.

Let’s not overlook the scholars. The inimitable Scott Nokes is the co-editor of Global Perspectives on Medieval English Literature, Language, and Culture, a quirky collection of articles about Chaucer, Boethius, C.S. Lewis, and the Popol Vuh.

Do your plans include a pilgrimage to 14th-century Canterbury? If so, then get to know Will McLean, who regularly blogs about historical recreation. He co-authored the recently reissued Daily Life in Chaucer’s England.

If you’re eager to dig more deeply into the question of how Karl became Charlemagne, look to Matthew Gabriele. He’s the co-editor of the excellent The Legend of Charlemagne in the Middle Ages: Power, Faith, and Crusade.

Charlemagne understood that resourceful people could prosper despite difficult times. “There’s a lot of opportunities,” he famously opined, “if you know when to take them, you know?” Why not put a few bucks in the pockets of these authors and prove the old king right?

New posts are coming, but not yet. Work, writing, and teaching are getting in the way, plus I’m scrambling to get my German up to speed. So what better for a Friday than a miscellany of recent German links?

Does the daily grind make you wish you were a chicken, dämmlich aber froh? In 1936, these Germans pretending to be New Yorkers agreed with you.

If you want to see the passion play at Oberammergau in 2010, AAA suggests you start your planning now.

Lingwë weighs Germanic and Romance roots as he knocks around the etymology of “gavel.”

Long known for his Hollywood soundtracks, Austrian-born composer Erich Wolfgang Korngold is being rediscovered by conductors.

Gypsy Scholar notes the mystery of German artist Stefan Mart.

Lost Fort has photos of Roman weapons from Saalburg fortress.

As the 2,000th anniversary of the Battle of Teutoberg Forest approaches, Adrian Murdoch has been following the early press coverage, including articles about the use of history by modern politicians.

Teutoberg shmeutoberg! Early September will also mark the 50th anniversary of the patent on my favorite train-station delicacy, currywurst.

Speaking of fast food, Cranky Professor reports sad news: the inventor of the döner kebab has died.

Finally, here’s David Bowie singing—what else?—“Helden.”

After Christmas, winter just gets mean. Here are some spiffy links to get you through the mid-week shivers.

Scott Nokes watched the horrible new Decameron-inspired movie so you don’t have to bother. Thanks, man!

Adrian Murdoch notes that the adventures of Asterix and Obelix have sold 250,000 copies in Plattdeutsch translation. (Bitte, was heißt “becoming Charlemagne” auf Plattdeutsch?)

The Economist visits pilgrimage sites in the Rhineland, an experience one commenter calls “redolent as all get out.” (I don’t know what that means either.)

Victoria Strauss shows you how not to e-publish.

Eternally Cool reports that the Forum is getting a makeover and shines light on the Ara Pacis.

Lingwë notes the pending release of an unpublished Tolkien poem, The Legend of Sigurd and Gudrun.

Lex Fajardo unveils the cover art for Kid Beowulf and the Song of Roland. (Note the prominence of Abul Abaz—and Charlemagne’s mustache.)

Via Books, Inq., comes a poem about bad, bad spelling: “The Ruba’iyat of the Maison Des Girrafes.”

Nothing escapes the notice of the Internet: Wikipedia has an entire page on television’s “unseen characters.”

American novelist Olen Steinhauer lives in Novi Sad, Serbia, which had its heat shut off on Christmas.

Ephemeral New York reminds us that once, the Bronx Zoo exhibited a human being.

The Web is full of fine writing—but things do tend to dry up during the holidays. To help get you through, here are links to some of my favorite posts written by other bloggers during 2008.

Gabriele at Lost Fort translated a lovely Rilke poem.

Steven Hart compared Bobby Fischer to Icelandic outlaw Grettir Asmundarson and wrote eloquently about poetry and the decline of New Jersey newspapers.

Terry Teachout visited Willa Cather’s grave and pondered Our Town.

Jonathan Jarrett saw traces of a love story in 10th-century charters.

Cell phones clashed with Gregorian chanting when Kate Marie went to Rome.

The Cranky Professor offered tips on dining in the Eternal City.

Jake Seliger defended fantasy lit, suggested that media pundits would benefit from reading The Best Software Writing, and revisited the cheeseball novel Day of the Triffids.

Studenda Mira wrote about Irish lighthouses and ancient monks.

Scott Nokes explained why he takes medieval studies beyond the confines of the campus.

When everyone else reviewed Salman Rushdie’s new novel, Sam Sacks reviewed the reviewers.

Adam Golaski continued to serialize the weirdest, funniest, most alluring translation of Sir Gawain and the Green Knight you’re ever likely to read.

Heather watched the National Spelling Bee and remembered her Bee time 25 years ago.

Michael Drout told a fun story about his daughter, ancient animal toys, and a Lord of the Rings actor.

Michael Livingston contemplated the ex-squirrel in his attic.

Frank Wilson suggested that T.S. Eliot might have enjoyed Cats.

The Gypsy Scholar turned a Philip Larkin poem upside down and discovered it was still quite readable.

Patrick Kurp poked around in the memoirs of Sir Alec Guinness, who concluded that “Shakespeare can take care of himself.”

In an ideal world, I’d give all my readers a gift for Christmas. Instead, like the Little Drummer Boy, albeit one with a modem and a seasonal Mastercard balance, I can give you only the rum-pa-pum-pum of music—specifically, this lavish buffet of Christmas-themed music videos.

When Sting decides to cover a Christmas classic, does he do “Jingle Bells”? Nope; he puts an ’80s spin on a venerable Basque carol.

If you’re of a certain age, you may remember John Denver and the Muppets singing “The Peace Carol,” or the sweet Christmas song Denver wrote for his infant son.

Roger Miller may have written the original, but Glen Campbell’s rarely-heard cover of “Little Toy Trains” sure is lovely.

I grew up in New Jersey during the ’80s, so to me, Twisted Sister covering “O Come All Ye Faithful” is the most natural thing in the world.

If you’re spending Christmas in Hollis, Queens, watch out for ill reindeer.

Join the Pogues and the late Kirsty MacColl in revisiting a bittersweet fairy tale.

If, like me, you’re as sentimental as a Polish babcia, then here’s Perry Como singing you-know-what.

No one has posted clips from the Fred Waring Christmas album on YouTube, but someone did upload the Pennsylvanians’ great, old-timey, choral version of “Greensleeves.”

Dear readers, a confession: the first version of “Greensleeves” I ever heard was belted out with a certain solemnity by three cartoon rodents.

Does the Yuletide season leave you disillusioned and wistful? Don’t worry; there’s a rock ballad for you, too.

What more can I say? Merry Christmas!

Christmas approacheth, and naturally, you’re stressed. You have gifts to purchase, parties to wince through, and hey, those lampreys aren’t gonna exsanguinate themselves. So stop, take a break—and enjoy a tasty link.

As the festival of Sol Invictus draws nigh, Eternally Cool offers a Gladiator Gift Guide.

At Unlocked Wordhoard, one of Doc Nokes’s students sets “Caedmon’s Hymn” to music.

Michael Drout shows how witty rhetoric betrays a lazy mind.

Victoria Strauss looks at layoffs and cutbacks in publishing. It’s not a pretty picture.

Along those same lines, Steven Hart notes the passing of Bantam.

Maggie says it’s hard to name a werewolf.

Open Letters Monthly praises a new biography of Samuel de Champlain.

At My Life in Books, Nicole ponders Edgar Allan Poe.

Need a musical break that highlights the consistency of pop music? Compare the folk song “Lovely Joan” with “Touch and Go” by Emerson, Lake, and Powell.

Finally, as the year fizzles out, assess your accomplishments fairly, but keep in mind that whatever you achieved, you’re certainly no Alma Mahler Gropius Werfel.

Thanks for reading! More medievalism, and another harrowing kitchen encounter with galangal, are on the way.

If this week had a bombastic soundtrack, it would be “The Entrance of the Turkeys into Valhalla.” While I ponder my hopeless dream of an all-turkey version of Wagner, here are some non-poultry-related links to kick off a cold and rainy Monday.

Ephemeral New York takes you to Brooklyn to see the Gothic Revival tomb of Charlotte Canda.

Cell phones clash with Gregorian chanting when Kate Marie goes to Rome.

At My Life in Books, Nicole considers authors who whine about bad reviews.

Jeanette Winterson writes movingly about discovering T.S. Eliot at a bad time in her life. (Link via Books, Inq.)

Who knew there was a monument to mark the Battle of Fontenoy? I didn’t, but Steven Till did.

Gypsy Scholar notes a biblical “reference rainbow.”

Julie K. Rose, proprietress of the neat Writers and Their Soundtracks blog, gives us a playlist of her own.

How about a video? Here’s T. Rex performing “Jeepster” in 1972.

Does anybody care? Will anybody want to read this? These questions vex writers in every era. As Charlemagne famously counseled Theodulf of Orleans in a candid letter some twelve centuries ago, “the insecurity is the thing that won’t get lost.” That’s why I was so surprised to see that in October, this blog enjoyed its highest number of readers so far. Thank you—even if my site stats indicate that you were particularly drawn to my Pac-Man glasses and my levitating niece.

New readers continue to find “Quid Plura?” through the thaumaturgy of the modern search engine. Below in bold are some of their stranger searches. I’ve endeavored to add helpful responses on the off chance they didn’t find the answers they were looking for.

beowulf fungus
One of my college roommates contracted the Beowulf fungus. Afterwards, people found it impossible to date him with any certainty.

how stupid is sir gawain?
Gawain is so stupid, it takes him two hours to watch “60 Minutes”!
Gawain is so stupid, he took an umbrella to see “Purple Rain”!
Gawain is so stupid, he thought Sherlock Holmes was a housing project!
Gawain is so stupid, he believed that every instance of the final inflectional -e in MS Cotton Nero A.x was unsounded because he had overlooked the possibility that specifically poetic archaisms may not have existed in prose and failed to consider that an unsounded final -e might corrupt the meter in at least a dozen places in the manuscript!

becoming charlemagne summary
Becoming Charlemagne is the story of the emperor who won renown as the inventor of gargling, which prior to that time had been practiced only furtively by a remote tribe of Saxons who passed the secret down from father to son as part of their oral tradition.

becoming charlemagne sparknotes
Set against the turbulent backdrop of 19th-century Russia, Becoming Charlemagne is the story of a young princess who gradually awakens to her own potential as a poet, a lover, and a queen. (Tell your teacher you found this summary on the author’s Web site. You will astonish her.)

is grendel lifeless in the sense of death or what?
I’d love to know what exactly this searcher believes the “or what?” might include.

how is grendel a typical monster?
He’s lifeless in the sense of death, man.

lame medieval jokes
Here’s one: What do you call a movement to provide houses for village priests among the ancestors of the South Ossetians? The Alan Parsons Project.

how to make reptile cages
I feel sorry for the lizard enthusiast who thinks he’s found an answer to his question only to find himself at the site of some guy who can’t stop yammering on about Norse mythology and the Icelandic banking system. Sorry, man. May your gecko thrive.

what is the old english phase that christman was derived from
I’ll let this one speak for itself.

name for a cat with a disfigured face yet lovely
The quest to name a disfigured yet lovely cat sounds like a treacly but sincere plot for a creative writing project. MFA candidates, start your engines.

beguile the dog
I don’t know how to beguile a dog, but I do know how to hypnotize a chicken. It’s a skill I picked up sixteen years ago on a farm in Denmark. Readers have accused me of not revealing enough about myself on this blog, so I’m trying to share more. Really, it’s quite a spectacle: the poor chicken just sits there.

Thanks for reading! More book reviews, Charlemagnia, and quasi-medieval doodads coming up soon.

No sun—no moon!
No morn—no noon—
No dawn—no dusk—no proper time of day—
No sky—no earthly view—
No distance looking blue—
No road—no street—no “t’other side the way”—
No end to any Row—
No indications where the Crescents go—
No top to any steeple—
No recognitions of familiar people—
No courtesies for showing ‘em—
No knowing ‘em!
No traveling at all—no locomotion—
No inkling of the way—no notion—
“No go”—by land or ocean—
No mail—no post—
No news from any foreign coast—
No Park—no Ring—no afternoon gentility—
No company—no nobility—
No warmth, no cheerfulness, no healthful ease,
No comfortable feel in any member—
No shade, no shine, no butterflies, no bees,
No fruits, no flowers, no leaves, no birds—
November!

— Thomas Hood (1799-1845)