Gillaume le Castlein
Jun 7 2003, 10:01 AM
Gímpel, Jean. The Medieval Machine; The Industrial Revolution of the Middle Ages. New York, 1976. ISBN: 0-7607-3583-2.
A little late in coming, I’ve finally read Jean Gímpel’s controversial history of medieval technology, The Medieval Machine. Controversial because of the social critique he provides of modern western technology in the epilogue, where he posits a rather pessimistic view of the west’s ability to continue to advance technologically. While I don’t ascribe to his view that the history of technology (or any other history, for that matter) is cyclical, what he says about the recurrence of periods marked by innovation and stagnation highlights an important aspect of cultural and social development, in this case how it applies to the development of technology. Obviously, writing from the mid 1970s, Gímpel missed the revolutionary innovations of micro-technology that hit the scene in the 1980s and 1990s. However, this does not necessarily negate his predictions about a period of stagnation for which the United States seems to be due.
Whether or not you accept his view about the state of modern western technology or his metaphysics of history, what lies between the prologue and epilogue of The Medieval Machine is pure gold. There is more raw information in this book, than in, for example, Frances and Joseph Gies’ book Cathedral, Forge, and Waterwheel. Gímpel has an amazing eye for detail and interconnectedness, as well as the analytical skills of a scientific anthropologist, economist, engineer and philosopher. The greatest contribution of Gímpel’s work is the connections he draws between the humanist and engineer, between the currents of progressive medieval thought and the inedible industrial and technical breakthroughs that marked the medieval period.
Gímpel rightly places the turning point of the medieval era with the Parisan condemnations of 1277. The impact of the 1277 condemnations created a rift between the intellectual center of Christendom and the common believers, between Church leaders in Italy and the Church proper in the rest of the continent. They encapsulated Aristotelian theologies among the doctors of Padua, and ensured the continued ascendancy of Augustinianism on the rest of the continent, especially in Germany. This state of affairs provided impetus to the mystic systems of those like Meister Eckhart that rejected the work of reason in the life of faith. The grave results of such an official Church position as the Parisan condemnations irreparably harmed the religious and social fabric of Europe by setting the stage for the Protestant Reformation, that arose not because of the advancements of scholasticism (now isolated from the life of the Church proper), but arose from problems inherent in Augustinianism and the criticisms of reformers steeped in a mystic language that could not be understood by a Church leadership that used a language of scholastic realism and Aristotelian logic.
That being said, does the condemnations of 1277 mark a turning point in western European technology? I’m inclined to disagree with Gímpel. While the importance of the 1277 condemnations is without question in regards to the intellectual and religious history of the western world, it’s importance in regards to the technological history of medieval Europe is indirect at best. In order to support his thesis, Gímpel shrugs off all subsequent technological innovations as merely martial advances, and categorizes martial innovation as a sign of stagnation. He also belittles a continuity of technological thought throughout the 14th and 15th centuries. Endemic of this approach is his neglect in mentioning the medieval invention of the printing press, which if treated would have demonstrated continued technical innovations (in Germany) despite a religiosity and culture marked by mysticism.
Keeping these minor shortcomings in mind, The Medieval Machine is definitely worth the read. His treatment of the 12th century Renaissance, the fecundity of information, and his erudite explanations of otherwise complicated material, makes this book a must read for any medievalist, either the armchair variety or those in the ranks of academe.
Gillaume le Castlein
Apr 20 2003, 04:03 PM
Here are some books that I inadvertently forgot to mention in my first post.
How could I forget my coffee table book? It stares me the face everyday!
Humble, Richard. Warfare in the Middle Ages. Brompton Books, 1989.
Like all coffee table books, this is more picture than information, but pictures often do say more than words. The pictures and illustrations in this book are excellent, and there’s something for everyone, from late antiquity, Charlemagne, the Vikings, the Crusades, the Mongols, castles, down to the first blasts of gunpowder. As far as I know this is the only coffee table book of its kind, worthy to be placed next to the Time-Life Pope John Paul II and Star Wars; Incredible Cross-Sections.
Also, I can’t believe I forgot Butlers’ Lives of the Saints (Edited, Revised and Supplemented by Herbert J. Thurston and Donald Att*#@er, Christian Classics, 1990). This is a hefty four volume set, but I would imagine affordable in paperback. I purchased this set so long ago that I don’t remember how much it cost me. However, no mater the cost, it’s an invaluable tool for researching any period of Church history.
Hidden between The Galleys of Lepanto and a massive Study Bible I found two books from Osprey Military: Saxon, Viking and Norman (Men-at-Arms Series), and Norman Knight; 950-1204 AD (Warrior Series). Osprey has quite a little monopoly running on providing accurate pictorial information, especially for the re-enactor and toy soldier enthusiasts. From these two books and the others I’ve come across, I have to admit the plates are top-notch as far as detail, even though the written material in the books isn’t all that great. They attempt to say too much in too little space; the resulting information is sketchy at best. In the two books I own I’ve noticed more than one factual mistake. For example, in Norman Knight it’s stated that in swords steel was welded around an iron core. The truth of the mater is that the outer steel is the product of accidental casehardening, not intentional welding. However, those who swear by Osprey are up front about their admiration… it’s about the plates, not the written material.
The biggest drawback for me is the sheer number of these books (somewhere in the neighborhood of a 102 or more dealing with the medieval period alone) coupled by the incredibly high price (about $15 per book). Basically, one is paying fifteen dollars for 12 plates (not all of which are useful), times 102 to cover what they have to offer in the medieval period. That’s $1530 just for pictures! Since I haven’t won the lottery yet…
Medieval mythology is on my book shelf in the form of Le Morte D’Arthur (maybe) by Sir Thomas Malory (Modern Library Paperback Edition, 1999). I haven’t finished reading it yet, but my signature comes from William Caxton’s late 15th century preface.
Gillaume le Castlein
Nov 24 2003, 12:41 PM
:thumbs:
Becher, Matthias. Charlemagne. Trans. David S. Bachrach. London, 2003.
One of the more recent biographies of Emperor Charles the Great (768-814). Professor Becher, who teaches medieval history at the Universität Bonn, Germany, shows a thorough knowledge of his subject. However, to be absolutely honest, the reason why I picked up this book in the first place was because of the translator, Professor David S. Bachrach, who is one of my favorite modern medieval historians.
This short treatise is packed with useful information and facts, and attempts to stay true to the primary sources. While this is the book’s greatest strength, it is also its greatest weakness. Especially in the fourth chapter, this information is presented in rapid succession giving the reader the sensation that the treatise is an Olympic sprint. Charlemagne’s biography is often told without the support of a more thorough cultural, religious or social analysis. While I was intrigued by the history, I was also left with a hankering for more information, especially in regards to the “nobles” who are for the most part left unnamed and sometimes unplaced, military tactics and campaign specifics, agricultural practices and social organization, the relationship between the papacy and religious practices and attitudes instituted by Saint Boniface, and specifics in regards to the religious practices of the non-Christian Saxons and Avars. There is definitely a lack of background information, especially in regards to the fields of archeology and cultural studies, which gives the reader little choice but to look elsewhere. While Becher handles first things first and very well (the historical life of Charlemagne), he is extremely brief and haphazard in regard to second things (that is background information).
Especially useful is the sixth chapter that does a good job of fleshing out the politics of Charlemagne’s empire, and the last chapter that provides a bit of helpful and interesting historiography.
The suggested reading list in the back of Becher’s book, compiled by Jennifer Davis, provides at least one big name with whom I’m familiar: Bullough. However, it will, no doubt, be referred to when I draw up my list for my annul letter to Santa Claus. In addition to this suggested reading list, I would like to add the second chapter of G. Barraclough’s book The Medieval Papacy, which is a very fair assessment of the background of the existing Church structures in the west, and the interrelations between the Franks and the Papacy at this stage in history.
Becher’s attitude is also very refreshing. Throughout the book we are presented with a scholar who wants to learn about his subject in a spirit of honesty and scientific investigation. Becher says it, himself, when he wrote the last line of his book: “The best possible study of Charlemagne’s history is one free of preconceptions.” This holds true for the whole gambit of historical research, and his perspective and work is greatly appreciated!
:sheildsmile:
Gillaume le Castlein
Apr 20 2003, 09:58 AM
I’m a bibliophile, and I’m not ashamed. Like all bibliophiles, there’s only one thing I enjoy more than collecting and reading books… letting others know what my favorite books are. Here’s a bibliography of some books on my shelf (actually shelves) pertaining to medieval life, society, and history. All of these books are guaranteed to delight those who travel the hallowed halls of this forum, and I’m sure more than one title will be recognized.
Here are few general medieval history, sociology books.
Frances and Joseph Geis. Life in a Medieval Castle, Harper & Row, 1979.
. Life in a Medieval City, Harper & Row, 1981.
. Life in a Medieval Village, Perennial – Reprint edition, 1991.
I recommend these three books so highly, that I would say that these are the only books necessary for those with a passing interest in the medieval world. Here you just about have everything, from the contents of a market stand to the coinage used to buy them, from courtly romance to bylaws and the wheeled plow. Each book is filled to the brim with detail and insight, excerpts from primary sources, and reasonable and informed speculation. No, they won’t tell you how they made cheese, but they will tell you a good deal about interior plumbing and the best way to preserve meat (which is to keep it alive, if you’re wondering). The Geises possess that extraordinary ability to dispel myth, but inspire a deeper and more intelligent interest in the medieval world that is no less romantic or inspiring despite a matter of fact approach. These books are sure to make you long for a time when you could wander the halls of a castle in its prime, purchase pepper and fish at the market, and even plow a field behind a team of plow horses. Any book that would make you long for a time without running water, electricity and computers has to be good!
Between the two they have penned somewhere in the neighborhood of twenty books dealing with the medieval world. Unfortunately, I’ve yet to read all of them, but it’s a goal.
Cantor, Norman F. The Civilization of the Middle Ages. Harper Perennial Library, 1994.
. Inventing the Middle Ages, Quill, 1993.
No medieval bibliography would be complete without Norman F. Cantor, especially CotMA. It is the summa de summis of medieval history and sociology, and is required reading in nearly every undergraduate Western Civ class (or at least should be). Inventing the Middle Ages is a historiography, and I would generally not recommend such a book, but this one is an exception. Cantor, with wit and insight, takes a close look at those 20th century historians that have shaped what we know about the medieval world, and their amazing ability to collectively stumble upon historical truth. It’s a fascinating read, especially the chapter dedicated to the Oxford fantasists (i.e. Tolkien, Lewis, et al.).
Southern, R.W. The Making of the Middle Ages. David & Charles, 1987.
As dry as kindling in fall after a long drought, but well worth a careful read.
There are many titles on my shelves devoted to specific topics.
The following books deal with ecclesiastical history. When I first started working on this post, I lumped these titles along with the general history/sociology books, and I think there is merit to this way of thinking. Medieval Church history and general medieval history are almost inseparable, so intertwined was the life of the Church with the life of medieval people.
Chadwick, Henry. The Early Church. Penguin, 1993.
Chadwick was assigned reading in Church history during my first year of graduate work, but I soon found myself reading it for sheer entertainment. Chadwick’s writing style and enthusiasm are delightful. A firm understanding of the Church’s beginning is absolutely essential to understanding the history and doctrinal development of the medieval period. Most of our modern misunderstandings of the medieval Church have their roots in not understanding early Church history. Chadwick provides a clear and objective (he’s an Anglican by faith) explanation of the directions taken by the fledgling Church, and how these early decisions were to color the subsequent development of Church doctrine, governance and Her relationship to the secular world. If reading the Church Fathers from Saints Justin Martyr to Augustine of Hippo is a bit too much reading for you, then Chadwick is the way to go. If such a long reading list is what you live for, then starting with Chadwick will give you some direction.
If this topic interests you, a good further read would be:
Pelikan, Jaroslav. The Excellent Empire: The Fall of Rome and the Triumph of the Church. Harper Collins, 1990.
Worlds above that hack, Gibbon! Pelikan takes an objective, and surprisingly critical, look at the early development of Christianity and how it changed the face of the Roman Empire and Europe. This book is definitely not a casual read, and I found it difficult to get through, even after three years of graduate study in dogma. However, Pelikan remains a power house in the world of doctrinal development, and this book effectively challenges and puts to rest the biased, irrational and inaccurate portrayal that was pontificated by Gibbon.
Southern, R.W. Western Society and the Church in the Middle Ages. Viking Press, 1990.
Southern lacks Chadwick’s exciting writing style, but what is lacking in writing style is made up for in content. From monks to popes, Southern does a good job outlining the major developments of Church life, governance and doctrine, and how the Church’s life shaped the western world. There is a hint of bias in Southern, and the task he gave himself is much akin to attempting to carry a three ton boulder on one’s shoulders, but for the most part his work is well documented, giving the reader an extensive bibliography of primary and secondary sources, and is thorough and detailed enough on the more important issues, such as the complex relationship between the secular and the Church.
This brings me to a pet peeve of mine. Southern’s and Chadwick’s treatment of the relationship between the spiritual and secular is critically important to anyone who is interested in subjects such as the Crusades, the Inquisition or investiture. It is easy to criticize the surface of the medieval relationship by viewing it through the spectacles of modern democracy, egalitarianism and individualism. Its another thing to look at the overall development of the Church and the secular history of late antiquity and the middle ages as free as possible of our modern prejudices. Such an approach, which I think Southern and Chadwick do with well deserved credit, can help us come to a deeper understanding of this complex, and surprisingly healthy at times, relationship. Oh, how I wish guys like John J. Robinson (whose book on the Templars, I admit, is on my shelf) had read these books!
For generations, centuries really, the general academic attitude toward medieval philosophy was that it didn’t exist. While the medievals themselves would see little difference between the sciences of philosophy and theology, they did in fact shape all of western philosophy, laying the ground work for subsequent thinkers to deface the mother of all sciences (… ok, that was a prejudiced remark, but in many ways it’s accurate). If you read only one philosophy book your whole life, it should be, without doubt:
Gilson, Etienne. The Spirit of Mediaeval Philosophy. U of Notre Dame Press, reprint, 1991.
His name should be recognized by medievalists as one of the co-founders of the Pontifical Institute of Medieval Studies in Toronto. This book is clearly written. Of course, even after reading this book a dozen times, I have to slow down and read many paragraphs very carefully, but then again the content isn’t exactly pulp fiction. Adapted from a series of lectures, Spirit explains the medieval mind thematically. Starting with first principles, and then explaining subsequent topics such as anthropology, law and morality, nature and history, much like one would explain the building of a cathedral. Medieval philosophy is best described as such… a cathedral, and once you’ve stepped into that wondrous construct, you will realize that it is a cathedral more splendid than any made of stone. Because Spirit deals with a plethora of thinkers in each chapter, it can be confusing at times. However, this is also the book’s greatest advantage. You don’t have to mix and match chapters to compare one thinker with another, or constantly refer to primary sources. The main intent is to demonstrate that the medieval synthesis was the ultimate evolution, the true heir, of the classical tradition of Plato and Aristotle. Well, Etienne, I’m convinced.
If this book wets your appetite it has an excellent bibliography of primary sources. On my shelf is the Summa Theologica and Summa Contra Gentiles by Saint Thomas Aquinas, the De Civitate Dei, the De Musica (only because this was the subject of my undergraduate thesis) and a collection of selected writings by Saint Augustine, Plato’s Republic, and Aristotle’s Nicomachean Ethics. Medieval Philophy; From St. Augustine to Nicholas of Cusa, edited by John F. Wipple and Allan B. Wolter (Macmillan, 1969) is the best selected writings in medieval philosophy that I know; its well worth having around the house. Other secondary source titles on my shelf include:
Copleston, F.C. Aquinas. Penguin Books, reprint, 1991.
Gilson, Etienne. The Philosophy of St. Bonaventure. St. Anthony Guild Press, 1965.
. The Christian Philosophy of St. Augustine. (The first seven pages torn from the book by my son when he was four has rendered finding copyright and publisher impossible.)
What’s really on man’s mind? …Women! And that was just as true way back when as it is true today. Once again, my two favorite medievalists occupy space on my book shelf in regards to this all important issue:
Gies, Frances. Marriage and the Family in the Middle Ages. Harper Collins, 1989.
Gies, Joseph. Women in the Middle Ages. Barnes & Noble, 1991.
These two books will surprise the modern reader. While neither author takes a stand in regards to the modern feminist movement, I was left not only contemplating the ways in which modern man’s treatment of women has progressed, but more importantly, the many ways in which it has regressed. As an aside, chivalry and female/male relationships is one of my favorite topics for discussion. I may start a thread about the subject sometime in the future.
Here’s a rather odd book on my shelf… not because it isn’t worth reading, but because its about economics… a subject that, as my life can demonstrate with painfully clarity, isn’t exactly one of my stronger pursuites:
Dyer, Christopher. Making a Living in the Middle Ages. Yale U Press, 2002.
A gift from a friend, I put off reading this book for a few weeks, but once I started reading it, I couldn’t put it down until I was finished. If you love those dry and boring economics books, then look elsewhere. Dyer presents medieval economics from the perspective of real people… well… “making a living in the Middle Ages.” A delightful and informative read!
If you are like me, if you lived in times of yore you would have wanted to be a monk spending his days tediously copying the Bible. No? Well, rest easy… I’ve yet to meet anyone else with that particular desire. On the contrary, most people would have wanted to be a knight… and, yeah, there is a part of me that imagines myself atop a charger, lance couched, shield held firmly, staring down death through two narrow slits of a great helm. To help foster my imagining (and keep those imaginings historically accurate) there’s R. Ewart Oakeshott’s series dealing with the medieval knight:
Oakeshott, R. Ewart. A Knight and His Weapons. Dufour, reprint, 1997.
. A Knight and His Armor. Dufour, reprint, 1999.
. A Knight and His Castle. Dufour, reprint, 1997.
. A Knight and His Horse. ?, reprint, 1998.
. A Knight in Battle. Dufour, reprint, 1998.
I bought the reprints of these books together, and read them as a series (though there’s no particular order in which they should be read). While I had read three of these titles some years ago, the re-reading of them together with the rest of the series proved extremely informative, enjoyable, and inspiring. You’ll be pooling your money for a sword, helm and shield, and looking up a local SCA group on the internet after reading these books. (While I was in the Army, Oakeshott was the catalyst of a broken collar bone, rib, and bruised and swollen knees.)
Oakeshott was a student of the sword, not just the medieval period. Here are some more titles by Oakeshott on my shelf: Swords of the Viking Age (which I just got and haven’t read yet), and Records of the Medieval Sword.
While Oakeshott’s books in the reprint are admittedly a bit pricey, some of the old first editions are floating around the internet.
Of course, at least one of the Gieses figures into this category:
Gies, Frances. The Knight in History. Harper Collins, 1987.
Also on my shelf is:
Duby, Georges. William Marshal: The Flower of Chivalry. Pantheon, 1985.
This book leaves a lot to be desired, but it does give a particular insight into the social attitudes of the times. What’s lacking from Duby is “story,” and Sir William Marshal’s life, if anything, is probably one of the most interesting and exiting real life stories ever. Perhaps something was lost in the translation… Richard Howard uses some strange vocabulary at times.
I haven’t collected too many books about medieval technology, but I think I have one of the best out there:
Gies, Frances and Joseph. Cathedral, Forge, and Waterwheel. Harper Perennial, reprint, 1995.
What can I say… its as good as any other title by the Gieses!
Also worth its weight in gold:
Male, Emile. The Gothic Image: Religious Art in France of the Thirteenth Century. Harper & Row, reprint, 1972.
This book is a wonderful guide for anyone touring Gothic cathedrals.
Gillaume le Castlein
Aug 15 2003, 04:14 PM
:madgo:
Cantor, Norman F. The Meaning of the Middle Ages; A Sociological and Cultural History. Allyn and Bacon, 1973.
Alright, Norman… I think I should just start out: tsk, tsk, tsk… shame on you. We are all willing to overlook your obvious biases due to your often brilliant insights and historical veracity in other more helpful volumes, but in this book, you really went over the top.
Cantor is rightly one of the leading American historians in the field of Medieval Studies, and while you might not like his modernist undertones in other works, they were well researched and enlightening in their own right. However, in Meaning we get a clearer picture of Cantor’s overly negative approach to, not just the Medieval Church, but Christianity in general. Really… how many times do we have hear that all mystical experiences are due to epilepsy? :banghead: If that’s the case, then I’ve known scores of epileptics! Funny that their doctors seemed overlook that during routine check-ups.
Even the most skeptical approach must at least be sympathetic to the real religious influences in the lives of historical peoples. Without doing so, one easily overlooks intentions and motivations, and all too easily condemns whole generations based on modern perspectives (the veracity of which is questionable anyway). All in all, Meaning is pretty much Cantor’s attempt to condemn Medieval Christianity (and subtly modern Christianity, as well) as a collection superstitious louts and unenlightened despots. As a result, Meaning misses the mark in any attempt to delve the true meaning of the Middle Ages. In general, we would be better off reading Professor Cantor’s other books, or, for a more sociological and cultural survey, Southern’s The Making of the Middle Ages.