Salic Emperors, Historical Satire, and Myth

Skulls from Hallstatt

"The skulls made an impressive show in their niches on the rude wall."

“It is only that definitions have lost their precision on Astrobe; and one duty of the Salic Emperor is to clarify and enforce them. – Charles the Six Hundred and Twelfth, Past Master

Today I’ve been thinking about what Lafferty is doing with Goslar and the Salic Emperors. On planet Astrobe, Goslar is a defiant outpost in the Feral Lands outside the gilded mediocrity of Cosmopolis. It is ruled by Lafferty's Salic Emperors, a lineage that traces its origins to an underground university fraternity in Wu Town. Goslar is a paradox: both a tradition and a rebellion. Lafferty frequently blends satire and myth this way. The Salic Emperors’ resistance is absurd, yet their tradition endures without a true succession crisis. The young and imperious Charles 612 declares that their duty is to clarify and enforce definitions. The presence of a single Salic Emperor at any time—even with a quick turnover—paradoxically establishes Goslar as a place of unmoored continuity. It also looks to me like a satire on medieval struggles over authority and legitimacy.

The real Salian Emperors ruled the Holy Roman Empire from 1024 to 1125, warring over temporal authority, particularly against the papacy and nobility. Their most consequential ruler, Henry IV, was at the heart of the Investiture Controversy, a dispute over whether the emperor or the pope could appoint bishops. This struggle climaxed at Canossa in 1077, where, excommunicated by Pope Gregory VII, Henry IV sought absolution through public penance. Canossa exposed the fragility of secular rule in the face of ecclesiastical power in the 11th century, setting the stage for later conflicts between temporal and spiritual authority.

But why does Lafferty turn to world history to shape this part of the Feral Lands, and how does this connect to More? One of Goslar’s sharper jokes is that a citizen earns his living by sitting on the city’s only public pot, refusing to move until paid. In other words, he sits on his throne. Here is stubborn defiance, arbitrary rule, and transactional legitimacy. These are the political factors that would destroy Thomas More, satirizing Henry VIII’s obstinacy. The crisis between the Tudor king and the Catholic saint had deep roots in medieval sovereignty, stretching back to historical Goslar, the seat of Salian governance.

At the same time, Lafferty’s Goslar is a place of mythic renewal. Evita repeatedly returns to Goslar to "renew" herself, claiming she has been as many bad queens as good ones. She calls More one of her sons, connecting him to the many children she bore to the various Salic Charleses, one of whom built Reparation Tower. Goslar is partially a ghostly reflection of the medieval church-state relationship—a configuration that was breaking down in More’s lifetime, spanning the late 15th and early 16th centuries. Yet here, Goslar moves beyond both satire and history—while remaining grounded in both—into the realm of mythic ritual. At this point in the novel, it feels at once absurd and necessary.