Heretics and Heroes

Heretics and Heroes: How Renaissance Artists and Reformation Priests Created Our World
© 2013 Thomas Cahill
368 pages

It seems the more I read of Cahill, the less I enjoy his cavalier histories, which at this point border on gossipy. Part of Cahill's hinges of history series, covering pivotal moments in western history where there was a sea change, the crucial shift here is the emergence of the Individual -- demonstrated in art, and shown at work in disintegrating Christendom into a multitude of violently passionate sects, all supremely secure in their 'truthiness'. In attempting to tell this story, though, Cahill covers everything from the Reconquista and Columbus to the Counter-Reformation. Perhaps as a consequence of the Renaissance and Reformation occurring concurrently, Cahill isn't nearly as well-organized here as he usually is, and readers go back and fort from art to history to theology in a higgedly-piggedly fashion.

I enjoyed the sections on art, since Cahill provides readers with a bounty of colorful plates to aide his commentary, but viewed the theological bits suspiciously. It's hard to take seriously an author who dismisses the Great Schism as a mere ethnic division, especially since that schism's key issue, papal authority, had a massive potential connection to his chief subject, the reformation. Cahill seems fairly oblivious about Orthodoxy altogether, referring to it as the 'Greek church' and apparently not realizing that ecumenical councils to weigh orthodoxy are not some Protestant invention, but have been part of the Orthodox-Catholic church from its inception. Cahill constantly editorializes, often on things that have nothing at all to do with the subject -- complaining about his grammar school, or reminding readers of how terribly racist the Greeks were, and how evil certain modern people are. The more I read Cahill, the more trivial and whiggishly narrow-minded he seems. (There are occasional glimpses of nuance, though, as when he defends the much-abused Mary Tudor despite a pronounced contempt for her cause.)

In the end, if you want a taste of Renaissance art, try Kenneth Clark's "Civilisation". There you shall find erudition and glorious music -- and Cahill keeps referring to Clark, anyway, so why not save the step? As far as the Reformation goes, Will Durant's volume is much more intelligent, and daunting only in its size. I'm sure there also better histories of how the individual burst on the western scene as well.

Related:
The Renaissance, Will Durant; The Reformation, Will Durant

Desire of the Everlasting Hills

Desire of the Everlasting Hills: The World Before and After Jesus
© 1999 Thomas Cahill

I've never expected to read the words "his silly circumcised penis swelling for all to see" in connected with Jesus Christ, but I have now, after reading Desire of the Everlasting Hills: the World Before and After Jesus. Cahill is one of those authors who can manage to intrigue me, somewhat annoy me, and leave me thinking -- did he really just say that? I had to read about Jesus' silly circumcised penis swelling a few times before accepting that yes, Cahill was pondering and writing on the penis of his god -- and calling it silly, yet.

Cahill begins his conversation with the reader at the twilight of the "Axiol Age", his term for that period that witnessed the flowering of philosophical, intellectual, and religious thought that gave us Buddha, Confucius, Plato, and their kin. Our story is set a Judea that has become partially Hellenized by Alexander the Great -- who Cahill spends time on -- and which is now a Roman province. He tells us of the rise of the Maccabees, who I had heard of but knew nothing about. According to Cahill, a man named Judeas Maccabee organized an insurrection against their Selucid rulers when said rulers attempted to refile the temple in Jerusalem. Judeas triumphed and his family became the rulers of the area, albeit ruling under the Roman thumb. Herod, Cahill tells us, is the last of that line -- meaning Herod is actually Jewish.

Since Christianity began as a Jewish sect, Cahill explores the various branches of Judaism that are flowering now that there are no Orthodox priests to keep people in. The two I remember most are the Essenes and the Pharisees. The Essenes resemble monks in that they retire in the wilderness to contemplate YHWH and so forth, while the Pharisees are alarmed at the growing lack of respect for the law and attempt to restore the old practices. The Pharisees will be the main villains in the New Testament, for those unfamiliar with it. He then explores the changing perception of Jesus and Christianity among the disciples and the Early church. I realized as the book wound to an end that the reason I don't know much about the early church is not that I haven't really looked before, but because there's not much information to draw on. The evidence is scant, and Cahill seems to restrict himself to it. There's no real wild speculation here -- no stories of Mary Magdalene leading the church and being ousted and driven into exile by Peter. Cahill's Catholicism does intrude at a couple of points, most notable when he addresses Martin Luther and ritual in the Catholic church.

I enjoyed the book quite well until the last chapter, when he attempts to attribute to Jesus and his followers (like Paul) everything from universal suffrage to tolerance. Looks to me to be an example of selective reading. The case of Paul is especially interesting, given that he writes to the members of one church and advises them that women shouldn't speak in church. That letter is written off by Cahill as being attributed to Paul but not really being his. Regardless of who wrote it, its precense in the Christian canon is fairly damning to Cahill's idea. An idea that occured me while reading was that I can understand why religions like Christianity were able to catch on. Following explict rules set forth in sermons is easier than contemplating Buddhist or other philosophical principles and then behaving in accordance with them.

Although the last chapter is forced and Cahill needlessly insults humanist ethics*, the book on the whole was fairly interesting.



* He recounts somene named Malcolm Muggeridge who visited a leper colony being run by Christians. Muggeridge apparantly stated that no humanist could do this. According to Wikipedia, he converted to Christianity. According again to Wikipedia this meant he could not enjoy Life of Brian, so it is entirely his loss. The International Humanist and Ethical Union's work in southeast Asia and Africa leaves me with no doubt that empathy is just as powerful as perceived divine command at inspiring people work for one another, and my personal conceit is that empathy is natural and thus more sustainable. The book is described as being a work of "reconciliation" between believers and nonbelievers, so Cahill's attitude there is questionable.

The Gifts of the Jews

The Gifts of the Jews: How a Tribe of Desert Nomads Changed the Way Everybody Thinks and Feels
© Thomas Cahill
293 pages

This week I continued in Thomas Cahill's Hinges of History series with The Gifts of the Jews. Rather than focusing on a Judaism changed by Hellenism, Cahill chooses to look at the ancient Hebrews, the people responsible for what Christians call the "Old Testament". I'm quite familiar with the Hebrew scriptures, since I was raised in a strictly literalist Christian sect and was instructed in all of the glories and horrors of the Old Testament as a teenager. For a number of years a teacher of mine took our "young adult" class through the Hebrew scriptures, paying special attention to the violence and arbitrariness of YHWH. My teacher's expressed purpose in doing this was to emphasize that God isn't a touchy-feely type: he's a God, and he'll put you in your place if you dare question him. For instance, one fellow named Korah questioned Moses' ability to lead the Hebrews. YHWH opens a pit in the Earth and all those pesky rabble-rousers fell to their deaths*.

Those of you who did not receive such an education may not be aware that the Hebrews are supposedly fathered by a man named Abram, or "Avram" as Cahill renders it -- and he, according to the Hebrew scriptures, was called out of the city of Ur. Ur being a Sumerian city, Cahill begins the book by examining Sumerian culture. He is particularly focused on attempting to portray Sumerian culture as being fixated on the idea of cycles -- that they were a people who saw life as a constant wheel of life, death, and rebirth where nothing mattered and all was futile in the end: where ideas like progress were alien. After spending time setting up this subject, he then introduces the story of Abram's departure from Ur as a revolutionary idea. The verses in the scriptures say that YHWH spoke to Abram and told him to leave Sumeria and go to Canaan, and "Abram went". Cahill grows very excited about those two words, seeing them as an utter departure from everything in Sumerian culture. Not, not being very familiar with Sumerian culture, I can't make an educated comment on this -- but raving about "and Abram went" for several paragraph strikes me as reading a little too much into the text.

Cahill's subject in this book is the whole of the "Old Testament", although it should be noted that he is only concerned with the OT as rendered in the Christian canon. Cahill has to weave his thesis through (or derive it out, depending on your credulity) thousands of years of literature and folk history. He paints a picture of an evolving "Jewish" worldview that gives birth -- in his mind -- to the ideas of adventure, history, progress, and the individual. Having finished the book I remain skeptical of this thesis. He renders to the Jews the same naked worship Edith Hamilton granted the Athenians in The Echo of Greece, which I found distracting. His entire series is about cultures that have enabled, guarded, or fermented changes in the western psyche, what he calls "transition points", and that is the lens through which he views the Hebrew scriptures. He's not a literalist by any means, but it seemed to me as if he was attempting to force the body of Hebrew scriptures to wear his narrative, rather than creating a narrative based on the scriptures. I cannot comment on the validity of his idea that the Jewish worldview was the first to spurn a cyclical worldview in favor of a progressive one. I can comment in an informed way when he says that ideas like the individual and history are Jewish ideas: my knowledge of classical Greece runs contrary to that. What of Herodotus? What of Athens? He seems to ignore them, just as he ignored Islamic society in How the Irish Saved Civilization. I understand the need to focus on particular contributions, but they must be viewed within a context of "overall" contributions so that the casual reader does not gain the impression that the Irish (or the Jews, in this book) are solely responsible for important parts of the western tradition. One interesting note, though: he takes the same romantic view of the late-age Hebrew prophets as did Isaac Asimov, both seeming them as the progressive populists of their day, using dogma to effect positive social changes. When a Catholic and a humanist have the same interpretation of the text, perhaps I should revisit said texts and consider the matter again.

As usual, Cahill presents a very readable narrative -- but I found this one lacking in credibility. The ending chapter is particularly disappointing, conveying to me the idea that the Hebrews and Judaism are magic. This is not an exaggeration, as he uses the word 'miraculous' to describe how wonderful they are. I will continue in the Hinges of History series, however, as despite this book he has earned my respect and I find his thoughts provoking.



*Verse 32 is the pit verse.

Sailing the Wine-Dark Sea

Sailing the Wine-Dark Sea: Why the Greeks Matter
© 2003 Thomas Cahill
303 pages, including index

I believe I picked this book up years ago, but never finished it. Very little seemed familiar as I read through the book this week, so if I did read it I assume I did not make it very far. As you may be able to imagine from the title, this addition to the Hinges of History series focuses on the Greeks, part of the western heritage -- arguably the most important part of the western heritage. While the book's contents span the Mycenaeans to the late Hellenes, much of the content comes from the golden age of Athens (which Edith Hamilton wrote about in The Echo of Greece). Cahill's chapters weave the story of how the Greeks taught us "How to Fight", "How to Feel", "How to Party", "How to Rule", "How to Think", and "How to See". Cahill also manages to make these topics fit into a chronological framework: "How to Fight and How to Feel" both take as their primary sources Homeric legends, while "How to See" is set after the rise of Christianity and the absorption of Greece into the Roman empire. The transformation of the Greco-Roman world into the medieval world is the subject of his last chapter, and he manages to advertise for his other books as well. Cahill begins each chapter by retelling a story of myth. His motive is to convey to the reader the sense that we are only glimpsing fragments of who the Greeks were: we cannot understand them in their wholeness. "History must be learned in peaces," he comments in his very first sentence to the reader.

Most of what I have said of Cahill's previous works must be repeated here: he writes well. His narrative is neither overly wordy nor simplistic. He carries on a conversation with the reader, addressing us personally. Whenever his own biases slip into the narrative, the reader may recognize them as such without mistaking them as commonly held opinions. (He does misrepresent Epicureanism and Stoicism at the end, but commenting on this rather strikes me as nitpicking. It's not as if there are people out there who would embrace Epicureanism if only they hadn't been dissuaded by Cahill's off-hand comment.) The plates he includes are well chosen: Greek art could be quite exquisite, although I confess I don't see the draw of drinking goblets illustrated with orgies. I think he is successful in his goal of portraying the Greeks as a people who lived -- and not simply as the idealized forefathers of western civilization. They are represented here in all of their triumphs and failings. I must recommend the book to those interested in the period.

How the Irish Saved Civilization

How the Irish Saved Civilization: the Untold Story of Ireland's Heroic Role from the Fall of Rome to the Rise of Medieval Europe
© 1995 Thomas Cahill
230 pages plus bibliography, chronology, and index.

Last week I began the "Hinges of History" by Thomas Cahill. Cahill writes that his interest lies in the transition points of history, and indeed what I've read of him so far does focus on change-inducing elements of society. This week I read How the Irish Saved Civilization, a book I have passed countless times in my home library but have never read until this week. Be begins by acknowledging the apparent strangeness of associating the Irish with civilization, and asks "How real is history?" He points out that western history has until recently paid no notice to the role of non-Europeans and women: it has been until the last century the story of white men. With that in mind, he asks us to acknowledge that the positive role played by ignored people like the Irish and by scorned people like the Catholic Church might be similarly overlooked.

Well, I'll grant him that, and easily -- although claims of belittlement made by "The Church" are hard to take seriously. Given that his content focuses on Ireland's role after the fall of Rome, Cahill logically begins with the fall of Rome. Rome and the classical tradition actually merit two chapters, and Cahill writes pretty well. I now understand a little more of how Rome's economic prosperity began to rot away and consequence, understand how Frankish governments were able to rise. The very beginning is a little slow, as Cahill tries to show the decay of active culture by dissecting a late-Roman poet's works. He tries to convey to the reader of what Europe is like in those years after the western Empire had receded into Italy before vanishing altogether: dangerous, wrought with petty conflicts and touring barbarians who gleefully put to the torch the Roman libraries. He also examines the role of the Church in attempting to hold society together.

Next he moves to "Unholy Ireland" and establishes a background: who are these people who he's devoted a book to? Here he makes some leaps in logic I'm not comfortable with. You may have heard of Lindow Man: he is one of the "bog bodies", or mummies occupying various bogs of the British isles and one of our main sources of information on what the pre-Roman Britons were like. Cahill wrote that Lindow Man and his brethren were willing sacrifices, that their serene composure is proof of this. I am not convinced. Even if the bog bodies do have "serene looks" on their faces, that doesn't mean they were willing victims: they could've been intoxicated or drugged.

Next Cahill tells the story of Ireland's conversion to Christianity and writes on what the Irish church was like. In his view, the Irish church were more in touch with mysticism and pagan traditions, less concerned with authority and overall more relaxed and less pretentious. This meshes fairly well with what I learned in English History I, although we didn't really discussion Irish mysticism. (It was, after all, "English History".) Cahill tells the story of the development of the Irish faith, centered around monasteries and guided by local priests. He actually makes me interested in monastery life. Given that the Irish were not so scornful of all things "pagan", they willingly copied copies of manuscripts they received -- even if they did were heretical texts or pagan philosophies. Then, as Europe begins to find some stability (just in time for the Vikings), Cahill tells of us about the "White Martyrdom", of Irish monks leaving their pleasant little island for Christ's sake, to reestablish the classical tradition in Europe.

The book ends with the arrival of the Vikings, who are Chaotic Evil and delight in putting quaint Irish monasteries to the torch. We read of the Irish monks burying manuscripts and metalwork or sending them to save havens inland, only to see Vikings settle in various parts of the British isles (where Irish monasteries had expanded). Here Celtic Britain transitions into Anglo-Saxon Britain, and at the Council of Whitby Irish-style religion is replaced by more Roman-style religion, thus ending the Irish influence on western civilization.

The book is well written and rarely boring. Cahill does concentrate on the Irish role while ignoring whatever classical activity lingered around the Mediterranean through wealthy Italian merchant-families and Islamic scholars. This is understandable for a book that is expressly written about the Irish, but it may lead casual readers to thinking that only the Irish were involved. While he did make some leaps in logic, generally the book matched with what I know, and I would recommend the read to anyone interested in the subject. I will be continuing in the series.

Mysteries of the Middle Ages

Mysteries of the Middle Ages and the Beginnings of the Modern World
© 2006 Thomas Cahill
317 pages, plus notes and index

A couple of weeks ago I met a friend for breakfast, and he brought with him an interesting-looking book. He explained that he received the book for Christmas and thought I would enjoy reading, and so I have. The book is a beautiful piece of work about the intellectual life of the medieval era. At the end, Cahill explains that his purpose was to explain the story of the "often belittled" Catholic contribution to the Renaissance. He deliberately addresses the arguments made by historians like William Manchester, who painted the medieval era as one of intellectual stagnation, where the Christian church suppressed all dissent and progress. The Church certainly did suppress progress in some areas, but what I've noticed from the medieval reading I've been doing since I read Manchester's A World Lit Only By Fire is that the medieval era was not as intellectually dead as I once thought. From our perspective they spent their time "counting how many angels could dance on the head of a pin", but civilization did continue to evolve, even after the superstructure of western civilization that had been the Roman Empire decayed and withdrew.

Cahill labors to establish the beginnings of feminism, western art, and science in the context of the Catholic Church. There is no other context for them that I am aware of in this era. Intellectual life -- odd as it seems now -- was centered around monasteries and the cathedral schools that became medieval universities. This much I know from taking courses in the subject and reading on my own. (Medieval history is not actually my primary interest: it just allows me to (1) study social history and (2) gain knowledge that supports a hobby of mine, which is writing a fantasy novel where late-Roman and medieval culture influence the culture I am creating.) His style is rabidly informal. This changes as the book wears on, but in the opening chapters Cahill is so astonishingly informal that I would stop reading, amazing that he was being so familiar with the reader. For instance: he writes on the exchange of letters between one nun and another, one Hildegard, in which the first nun tsk-tsks at the way Hildegard allows her nuns to dress. Hildegard defends herself eloquently, and Cahill quotes this. At the end of Hildegard's exchange, he tacks on: "Take that, bitch." The opening chapters are full of little comments like that -- "or to (God help us) Syria", and "By Zeus, how's that?" in reference to one Christian theologian stating his intention is to not feel carnal emotions at all.

The author begins by introducing us to the world of Alexandria and of Greek philosophy in general. Something I found immensely interesting was the idea that one Judeo-Greek philosopher divided the Platonic god -- Aristotle's unmoved mover -- into three parts:

All the same, Philo adopts (and adapts) man Greek philosophical categories. God is indeed the One of which nothing may be known for said -- except that he is, which is why he gave his name to Moses as ho on (He Who Is). By his Word (Logos, in Greek), as Genesis tells us, God created the world. Philo even calls the Logos a "second god" and God's firstborn. And Philo perceives even a third level in God, the Powers by which he acts in the world. Philo's Logos and Powers, therefore, play the role of mediators between the unknowable One and mankind.

Well, hello, Christian theology. Bit early for you, isn't it? In succeeding chapters, Cahill addresses the intellectual development of Rome through Greek schools of thought, the cult of virginity, the pursuit of love and its consequences, the beginnings of Reason, alchemy, western art, poetry, and politics. We meet many characters in these chapters. Some are more exciting than others, at least for me. This is a very readable narrative, and I recommend it. Beyond the narrative, though, this is a beautiful book. Even if the words were written in Arabic, this would be a beautiful book: the physical object itself is exquisite. Beautiful pictures are set right into the text, not consigned to plate-pages in the middle of the book. When quoting from primary sources, Cahill sets the text with margin art, like you might see in a monastical copy. The physical book is like a piece of art. It conveys the idea of a medieval manuscript, which is apt given its subject.

I was delighted with this book, and I will read more of the author. This is part of a series called The Hinges of History. I actually remember reading one of his books long ago, called Sailing the Wine-Dark Sea. I should return to it. This was an immensely satisfying book: both to read and to look at.