Fun at the "Fight Guy" Museum

This past Saturday I brought my family to the Higgins Museum to see a long sword demonstration and a “genuine” live Viking Warrior. Now that I have two boys, a membership at the Higgins is a must, especially since one of them now has more swords and shields than I can count and calls himself “Fight Guy.” This year in our world history curriculum, we’re studying the Middle Ages. The last time we went, I spent the entire time explaining to my two-year old why none of the “guys” were fighting, so I figured sword fights and a chain-mailed warrior would make his day.

The Higgins Armory Museum is the only museum in the Western Hemisphere entirely devoted to the study and display of arms and armor. It’s got African armor, Viking armor, Asian armor, swords, maces, and among other things a life-size crusader mounted on a horse in a giant Great Hall. They have an ongoing calendar of events for all ages including arms demonstrations, an Old Norse reading group, and hands-on courses in the historical martial arts. My kids are still clamoring to go back and take the full audio tour.

The Viking warrior was a stocky guy with long blond hair and a bushy beard, both which appeared real. Viking helmets, he explained, did not have horns. The metal piece down the front is very handy for keeping your nose intact. He disliked the name “Viking,” preferring “Norsemen.” The word ‘Viking’ came from the expression “I Viking,” which is what the Norsemen said when they took time off from their farms to raid other lands. Most of the time, they were busy with their own farms and settlements; they were, in fact, part-time-pirates.

I was interested, but not suprised, to learn that what we know about the Vikings is suspect. Most of the educated historians of the Middle Ages were monks living in monasteries. They were the ones able to document the attacks by Vikings, and were often the ones violently attacked because of the treasures they kept cloistered with them. This, obviously, made their writings somewhat one-sided. When we read about the Vikings during our History lessons, we hadn’t learned much about their lives at home, only their attacks on English monks and the Franks (or, “the other guys” according to my little one.)

None of this, however, impressed my children as much as the weaponry. When I asked them what they liked about the visit to the museum, my older son said “I liked the long sword.” My two-year old said “I would like the spear, because it was longer and had a pointy tip.” Obviously he thought I was asking not to find out what he’d learned but to plan a future weapons purchase. He clearly picked up some new fighting techniques (only the final third of a long sword is sharp, so you can hold it with your other hand in the middle and use it to whack people, generally while yelling “ha HA!”)

All of this is somewhat puzzling to me. We used to be a peaceable household. My older son, who was into geography, and my daughter would merge their interests by staging weddings and other events with their stuffed animals (“it’s a dance class in Micronesia!”) But then Fight Guy came along. At the same time, my older boy started getting into a series of comics about Indian Mythology, which are all about “brown guys fighting” as my little one says; executing various revenge plans, stealing brides, chopping off heads and things like that. And then there’s the Middle Ages, full of sacking and looting and crusading. Practically every section in the Activity book that accompanies the text in our history curriculum includes a make-your-own-weapon activity.

How do we teach these things without glorifying violence? How do I make sure my kids realize the crusades weren’t all fun and games without scaring the pants off of them? How do I read the newspaper without scaring the pants off of me? The Higgins, at least, is all about violence from another age, a quaint age where you could actually wear something that would protect you from harm. Going to the museum, you learn that violence used to be a way of life, that an “honor” society meant that you plowed your field with your sword in your lap, just in case you pissed anyone off over a pint of mead the night before. Maybe things haven’t changed much. For the moment I’ll just enjoy watching my kids whack each other with foam swords. At least they’ve all got shields, and the welts don’t last.

Published in the Groton Landmark on March 3, 2006