Please Accept My Application To Become A Wealthy Peasant
Previously in this series: Please accept my application to become a bog body.
Not so much land and money that I have to start carrying a sword and go to war with the Burgundians, or worry about politicking within a great monastic order, or spend half the year holding the pharaoh’s cup at court which is allegedly a great “honor” due to the rare puissance of my noble blood but is in actuality a real hassle
Nor so little land and money that I’m the kind of peasant who looks like a joke in old medieval illustrations, like a guy in the corner of a page of Piers Plowman or The Knight in the Panther’s Skin who’s wearing an onionskin for a hat, looking like a fool and you find out he’s called something like Onionskin Ivar and his wife is a cabbage
I want to be in The Sweet Spot of The Wealthy Pre-Industrial Peasant
He doesn’t really show up in Western art much before the 17th century (if he does it’s as Silenus) but once he does, he absolutely dominates it