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    <front>
        <journal-meta>
            <journal-id>TMR</journal-id>
            <journal-title-group>
                <journal-title>The Medieval Review</journal-title>
            </journal-title-group>
            <issn pub-type="epub">1096-746X</issn>
            <publisher>
                <publisher-name>Indiana University</publisher-name>
            </publisher>
        </journal-meta>
        <article-meta>
            <article-id pub-id-type="publisher-id">22.01.18</article-id>
            <title-group>
                <article-title>22.01.19, Doyno, The Lay Saint</article-title>
            </title-group>
            <contrib-group>
                <contrib contrib-type="author">
                    <name>
                        <surname>F. Thomas  Luongo</surname>
                        <given-names/>
                    </name>
                    <aff>Tulane University</aff>
                    <address>
                        <email>tluongo@tulane.edu</email>
                    </address>
                </contrib>
            </contrib-group>
            <pub-date publication-format="epub" date-type="pub" iso-8601-date="2022">
                <year>2022</year>
            </pub-date>
            <product product-type="book">
                <person-group>
                    <name>
                        <surname>Doyno, Mary Harvey</surname>
                        <given-names/>
                    </name>
                </person-group>
                <source>The Lay Saint: Charity and Charismatic Authority in Medieval Italy, 1150–1350</source>
                <series></series>
                <year iso-8601-date="2019">2019</year>
                <publisher-loc>Ithaca, NY</publisher-loc>
                <publisher-name>Cornell University Press</publisher-name>
                <page-range>Pp. viii, 318</page-range>
                <price>$58.95 (hardback)</price>
                <isbn>978-1-5017-4020-6 (hardback)</isbn>
            </product>
            <permissions>
                <copyright-statement>Copyright 2022 Trustees of Indiana University. Indiana University provides the information contained in this file for non-commercial, personal, or research use only. All other use, including but not limited to commercial or scholarly reproductions, redistribution, publication or transmission, whether by electronic means or otherwise, without prior written permission of the copyright holder is strictly prohibited.</copyright-statement>
            </permissions>
        </article-meta>
    </front>
    <body>
        <p>This book takes a new and original look at the emergence of lay saints in the cities of
            medieval north-central Italy. Mary Doyno builds on the scholarship of André Vauchez, who
            was the first to identify urban lay sanctity as a distinct phenomenon, and others who
            have studied aspects of lay sanctity in Italian cites: for example, Augustine Thompson,
            Diana Webb, and Joanna Cannon. But where Vauchez and others have seen the cults of lay
            saints as an outgrowth of increased lay piety and as the church’s recognition of that
            piety, Doyno explores the cults of lay saints as sites of tension in which the church
            sought to rein in and control lay religious aspirations--as evidence “both of the
            radical assertions standing at the heart of the laity’s embrace of the <italic>vita
                apostolica</italic> and of the church’s efforts to restrain and manage such claims”
            (279). Doyno focuses on the cults of sixteen lay penitents, men and women, mostly
            through their <italic>vitae</italic>, but also through sermons and other texts as well
            as visual images. She pays close attention to the ways in which the saints and their
            cults are shaped by connections to local religious and civic institutions, and to how
            these cults develop through multiple accounts and diverse perspectives, for instance,
            early <italic>vitae</italic> by clerical authors tied to local institutions compared to
            later <italic>vitae</italic> by mendicant authors. Overall, she identifies a process
            whereby discomfort with claims to saintly charisma for independent lay people, and
            especially lay women, led to the elimination of lay penance and its absorption into the
            mendicant orders by the middle to late fourteenth century.</p>
        <p>The book is very clearly organized thematically and to a large extent chronologically.
            The first part examines lay male saints; the second part deals with female lay saints
            before Nicholas II’s 1289 decree <italic>Supra montem</italic>, which called on the
            Franciscans to oversee communities of lay penitents; and the third part explores female
            lay sanctity between 1289 and the gradual absorption of lay female penitents into the
            mendicant orders. In Part I, Doyno begins by exploring the differences in the cults of
            two male saints, the merchants Ranieri of Pisa (d. 1160) and Omobono of Cremona (d.
            1197). Ranieri was a reformer whose embrace of penance gave him access to the power of
            healing and a quasi-priestly authority, demonstrated vividly in a sculpted font
            originally from the Cremonese cathedral in which he is shown blessing both clerics and
            laypeople. But this model of lay spiritual power posed a threat to the power of the
            clergy and institutional church and did not fit into Innocent III’s conception of the
            distinction between clerical and lay roles. For Innocent, the lay state was inherently
            flawed; Omobono as an exception was “a lily among the thorns” of ordinary lay life (40).
            Innocent’s canonization of Omobono has usually been seen as both embracing the lay
            charisma of a saint like Ranieri and coopting a potentially hostile movement by giving
            it a place within the church. Doyno argues instead that the portrait of Omobono in
            Innocent’s canonization decree seeks to transform and restrain lay charisma by
            redirecting it into less threatening channels: posthumous rather than living miracles,
            fighting heretics rather than reforming the church, civic charity and peacemaking rather
            than blessings.</p>
        <p>Doyno then shows how Innocent’s emphasis on civic charity and good works was embraced, to
            a large extent, in a new paradigm, the “communal lay saint.” As civic authorities in the
            emergent <italic>popolo</italic>-led communal governments of the thirteenth century took
            control of local cults, they promoted the model of the ideal layman as one who performed
            charity and helped fix social and economic inequalities. Here she focuses on the artisan
            Raimondo Palmiero of Piacenza (d. 1200), new versions of the <italic>vita</italic> of
            Omobono that in <italic>popolo</italic>-led Cremona recast him as a distinctly communal
            saint, and the gold- and silversmith Facio of Cremona (d. 1271). The hagiography of
            communal lay saints features details of work and urban life that citizens would have
            identified with and was generally more positively disposed toward lay life than Innocent
            III’s model. And the idea of the lay saint as a miracle worker reappears in the cult of
            Facio and the later lives of Omobono; under the auspices of civic authorities “lay
            saints were again portrayed as living holy men, dispensing miracles that healed their
            local communities” (82). The apotheosis of this model of lay saint was achieved in the
            cult of the comb-maker Pier “Pettinaio” of Siena, embraced by the ruling magistracy of
            the Nine as a saint who helped regulate Siena’s religious ideals and, like the Nine
            themselves, pursued “the good and honor of the city” (123).</p>
        <p>In part two, Dayno examines the hagiography and cults of several female lay saints prior
            to 1289--Ubaldesca of Calcinaia (d. 1205), Bona of Pisa (d. 1207), Rose of Viterbo (d.
            1251), Umiliana de’ Cerchi of Florence (d. 1246), and Zita of Lucca (d. 1278)--to show
            how gender norms compounded the institutional challenges posed by all lay saints to make
            independent lay female saints especially threatening. Doyno shows that the hagiography
            of female saints was especially sensitive to the dangers of female independence and the
            disruptive potential of living miracles. If male lay saints needed favorable civic
            contexts for their charisma and independence to be recognized, female saints needed to
            be distanced from living miracles and could not be represented as independent. Their
            influence and the success of their cults depended absolutely on their attachment to
            religious orders or other institutions governed by men. Doyno makes her argument most
            effectively by comparing the successful cult of Umiliana de’ Cerchi and the (initially)
            less successful cult of Rose of Viterbo. Umiliana’s Franciscan hagiographer gave her an
            “institutional identity” by making her (anachronistically) a member of the Franciscan
            Third Order “to obscure what was essentially an independent lay religious life” (146).
            He also took pains to portray her as living secluded rather than moving in public and
            devoted less to public charity and more to the interior life and visions. And he
            downplayed Umiliana’s agency in the miracles God performs in response to her prayers. On
            the other hand, while there was a papal inquiry into Rose’s cult, Doyno observes that
            the earliest <italic>vita</italic> of Rose presented her in ways that emphasized her
            independence and initiative as well as the “informal, ad hoc” nature of her religious
            life: she “embodied a side of the lay penitential movement that church authorities were
            increasingly seeking to control and redefine” (160). Doyno speculates that the pope
            might have found Rose “too difficult, too independent, and ultimately too lay and female
            to support her cult” (161). Rose’s cult did eventually spread beyond Viterbo, but only
            in the fourteenth century when the Franciscans began to claim her as an early member of
            the Third Order. Zita of Lucca is an interesting exception that proves the rule. Her
            character as an independent lay person remained intact, but she was also to an unusual
            degree promoted and protected by influential (male) clerical and civic authorities in
            Lucca.</p>
        <p>In the third part, Doyno shows how “the problem of the female lay penitent” (243) was
            solved by “regulating the lay penitent out of existence” (262). She builds on the
            research of Giovanna Casagrande, Alison More, and Maiju Lehmijoi-Gardner showing that
            documents that have long been treated as evidence of the early existence of the
            mendicant “third orders” were in fact regulatory measures seeking to rein in the
            problematic aspects of lay penitence. Nicholas II’s bull <italic>Supra montem</italic>,
            which in 1289 delegated oversight of all lay penitents to the Franciscans, was one such
            measure. In the case of the <italic>Ordinationes</italic> issued for lay female
            penitents in Orvieto by the Dominican Munio of Zamora in 1286, it seems that the women
            themselves sought the protection of stronger institutional affiliation with the
            mendicants to preserve their way of life. Measures such as these laid the groundwork for
            the Third Orders that emerged in their fully developed forms in the late fourteenth and
            early fifteenth centuries. The civic saint remained an outward-looking model for men to
            exercise lay piety through public charity as members of confraternities, while mendicant
            hagiographers of saintly lay women increasingly emphasized their visions and somatic
            religiosity to provide a model for female penitents to pursue devotional lives within
            their own homes rather than through public activities. Doyno’s main example here is the
            complex and fascinating case of Margaret of Cortona (d. 1297), a civic saint recast by
            her Franciscan hagiographer as a reclusive visionary. That these trends did not affect
            only women in the Franciscan orbit can be seen in the lives of saints with connections
            to the Dominicans like Giovanna of Orvieto (d. 1307) and Margaret of Città di Castello
            (d. 1320). The culmination of a process of moving “the site of an ideal lay life out of
            the city streets and into women’s bodies” (264) can be seen in Catherine of Siena (d.
            1380), an independent and publicly active lay penitent who became posthumously the
            authority for the Dominican Third Order.</p>
        <p>This book is very well written, deeply sourced, and compellingly argued. Doyno reads
            hagiographical texts with sensitivity to the ambiguities and contradictions of the lives
            they depict and the ideals they seek to communicate. The individual saints are presented
            as case studies in which Doyno digs deep into the complexities of the multiple voices
            that claimed or supported each saint and the ways in which different hagiographical
            emphases were shaped by different institutional concerns, at the local level and beyond.
            At times she perhaps leans too heavily on the idea that developments in lay sanctity can
            be explained as responses to the threat posed by lay spiritual aspiration. To make only
            a couple of obvious points related to the later chapters of the book, interest in
            visions and the visionary was something larger and separate from a campaign to control
            lay penitents. And an emphasis on emotions and interiority tracks with broader cultural
            trends in late medieval spirituality, not just the rejection of women’s public
            independence. The texts cited here show plenty of evidence of fascination with their
            saintly subjects, not just repression. But one of the great virtues of this book is
            precisely the richness and abundance of the evidence, so that the reader is invited to
            think along with the author and build on her insights by asking new or different
            questions. And Doyno’s emphasis on the ideological work that can be done by hagiography
            is an important correction to the tendency to read the lives of lay saints mainly or
            simply as representations of lay ideals. Her main point is convincing: as much as the
            lives of lay saints in medieval Italy provide evidence of lay spiritual aspirations,
            they also show--especially in the case of women--the unwillingness of the church and
            sometimes civic society to accommodate autonomous lay piety.</p>
    </body>
</article>