This is a guest post by Jay Schalin, director of policy analysis for the James G. Martin Center for Academic Renewal in Raleigh.
An oft-repeated phrase is that “history is written by the winners.” That’s not always true; sometimes, history is written by those who can write the best, even if they were the losers.
That seems to be the case with the historical period that many still call “The Dark Ages,” which supposedly began with the collapse of the Western Roman Empire around 400 AD and lasted until the 800s. The commonly accepted view is based largely on written accounts by Roman or Romanized observers who lamented the collapse of their civilization, according to Peter S. Wells, a University of Minnesota anthropologist, in his 2008 book Barbarians to Angels: The Dark Ages Reconsidered. The non-Roman European world that was in ascendance was largely pre-literate until the so-called Dark Ages were well under way. Continue reading “The Dark Ages Were Brighter Than You Think”
Some years ago in my search for causes of the West’s prosperity I came across Deepak Lal’s 1999 book Unintended Consequences. The book planted the seed of an idea that has recently borne some exotic fruit.[1]
According to Lal, in 597 AD Catholic missionaries were trying to convert the pagan Anglo-Saxons in England. Augustine, a monk who later became Archbishop of Canterbury, wrote to Pope Gregory I asking him whether several of the converts’ marriage habits were allowed.
In his reply, the pope was strict. He did the following: 1) he rejected marriage to close relatives or to close in-laws (called affines by anthropologists), 2) he banned the adoption of children, and 3) he prohibited concubines. (Divorce was already prohibited, based on scripture). Why? Continue reading “The Medieval Church and Its Consequences”
In a previous post I critiqued an author for wasting enormous talent trying to write something “new.” In this column I will discuss three books that ushered in new ways of thinking, but did it better. These books aren’t easy reading, but their density is proportional to their content. (I can cover three books because praise takes less space than criticism.) Two were readings assigned in class; the other was recommended.
The Strippingof the Altars
The Stripping of the Altars by Eamon Duffy[1] overturned decades, perhaps centuries, of stultifying complacency about the Protestant Reformation in England (including my own). Duffy challenged the widespread presumption that the Reformation brought a true and purified religion to a country gripped by ritual, magic and saint worship—in other words, the Catholic Church.
While the title refers to the destruction of the traditional church under Protestant kings Henry VIII and Edward VI, more than half the book is devoted to describing Christianity before the Reformation. Duffy shows how the Catholic Church was woven into the texture of people’s lives through holy days, celebrations, pageants, processions, veneration of saints, deathbed donations, prayers, and, above all, the miraculous Eucharist. Overseeing that world and everyone in it were the saints, from the Virgin Mary to little-known local martyrs, all of whom could help people in various kinds of trouble. Continue reading “Three Good Books That Revised History”
For years I’ve heard about the academic pressure to publish. Now, as a graduate student, I’ve come across some results of that pressure. These are books that make an interesting subject dull.[1] I’ll consider one of them in this post.
To be sure, my professors have taken pains to assign only books they consider important and relevant, the “cream of the crop.” (A professor advised his class that if we didn’t like these, we would hate the ones he had rejected.) Nevertheless, a few clunkers come through. Well, I consider them clunkers. As an editor (current and past), I am frustrated when I see tremendous talent combined with disappointing execution.
The book I’m commenting on was praised on its cover as “superior and fascinating.” It reflects enormous research (12 years’ worth), including meticulous gathering of visual artifacts across two continents and several centuries. And it exhibits heroic efforts to come up with new interpretations. But, in my view, its impact is restricted by having to meet the academic goals that lead to tenure and full professorship.
Marcy Norton’s Sacred Gifts, Profane Pleasures: A History of Tobacco and Chocolate in the Atlantic World[2]is the story of how tobacco and chocolate, substances that were part of pre-Columbian social and religious rituals in Mexico and Central America, became popular products in Europe during the 1600s.
The American university system is remarkably durable, even though Its failings are clearly visible. Colleges and universities roll on, with the only sign of weakness a so-far modest decline in attendance. This is in spite of mounting costs; scandals like admission bribing and cheating; equally scandalous student debt; high drop-out rates; grade inflation; etc.
In February 2018, I wrote an article about whether universities will face a “crackup” or if they have the stability to keep going as they have. I proposed that we might learn something from other institutions that persist over time, such as the European Catholic Church, especially in the medieval period (500-1500). (This was not an original idea but I haven’t seen it developed by others.)
Like universities, the Catholic Church was a complex body with many components. While it had a single head, the pope, it also had parish churches, charitable hospitals, cathedral schools, monasteries, convents, and bishoprics, all scattered widely geographically, as are our universities and their components.
