In 1957, M.-D. Chenu identified the "discovery of nature" as an essential element of the intellectual and cultural revival known as the twelfth-century renaissance. Chenu argued that the twelfth century witnessed the formulation of an abstract notion of nature as a harmonious and unified whole, an extensive order that was the artful and providential composition of a benevolent Creator. This new conceptualization, in turn, spurred a variety of social and intellectual developments. Not only did the abstraction of the component parts of the visible universe into the broad category of "Nature" lead to a sense of humanity as a part of nature itself; it also, somewhat paradoxically, enabled fantasies of human mastery of the natural world. The intellectuals of the twelfth century, suggests Chenu, realized that they were "bits of this cosmos they were ready to master." [1]
With the publication of Jacques Berlioz's Catastrophes Naturelles et Calamites au Moyen Age, the medievalist now can add to her shelf an inquiry that constitutes, in some senses, the other side of Chenu's celebratory essay: namely, a discussion of medieval responses to nature in extreme dis- order. This collection of essays--all previously published or forthcoming--scrutinizes medieval accounts of natural disasters in order to examine both how medieval communities responded to such crises, and how medieval intellectuals constructed explanations for them. The transgression of the customary balance between humanity and nature comprised in events such as landslides, floods, famines, destructive storms, and lightening strikes, called into question the relationship between the microcosm and the macrocosm. This, in turn, potentially undermined confidence in the primal harmony of the natural ordo. Accounts of natural disaster thus provide rich opportunities for Berlioz to interrogate broad themes of medieval epistemology, as well as the more obvious questions of crisis and response.
The book presents a series of thematically interrelated inquiries, but does not develop a single argument or point of view. The contents may best be characterized as a series of five short microstudies, accompanied by an historiographical essay, and a methodological essay specifically on the use of exempla as a source for the history of natural catastrophes. Berlioz refrains from developing a monothetic approach to his material, choosing rather to emphasize the diversity of his sources, the events they describe, and the explanations they proffer. Thus he notes that, "among historians of the Middle Ages, an event could be explained through theological and moral reasons as well as through natural reasons. These explanations did not oppose each other so much as they complemented one another: the former explained in general, and the latter, in particular." (This is my own rough translation from page 24). For Berlioz, as a modern historian of the medieval past, the task is even more complicated. Broadly speaking, he seeks to elucidate three levels of understanding for his readers. First, in each case he reconstructs as clearly as possible the environmental aspects of the disaster in question, whether geologic, meteorological, or what have you. Second, he discusses sociological questions concerning the human response to crisis situations, inquiring into how communities cooperated to deal with disaster relief and material reconstruction. Third, he poses a series of questions concerned with the formation of cultural categories around such events, asking how they were framed and understood by various observers.
Berlioz's talent for close reading of individual texts permits insight into some broad patterns of explanation. As he notes in Chapter Two, exempla compilations were more likely than chronicles and historical texts to give a didactic interpretation to natural disasters, presenting them as the result of sin. An excellent example of a calamity that was well-suited to a highly moralistic interpretation is lightning strikes, which seemed to be the hand of God striking particular individuals. According to Berlioz's readings of the major exempla compilations, lightning was seen to be a particular retribution for usurers, fornicators, blasphemers, and, especially, dancers.
Yet other kinds of disasters were susceptible of quite varied interpretations. This is demonstrated to excellent effect in one of the highlights of the collection, Chapter Four, which discusses the collapse of Mount Granier in Savoy in 1248. Nine texts by six different thirteenth-century authors discussed this event, in effect a massive landslide in which the peak of the mountain crumbled into the neighboring valley. Berlioz's sophisticated layering of these sources results in one of the most compelling essays of the collection. His reading of the evidence deftly exposes the ways in which a natural catastrophe could provide a point of entree into a motivated writing programme. For example, Matthew Paris presents the collapse as a patent expression of divine vengeance upon the populace for their evil character. The Savoyards, he tells us, are addicted to usury, simony and brigandage, and thus God struck them forcefully. Not surprisingly, this author also gives quite an elevated death toll and description of the destruction. By contrast, Etienne de Bourbon's account explains the landslide as the punishment of a single individual, Jacques Benevais, who is said to have appropriated to himself a priory on the mountainside, expelling the community of monks living there. De Bourbon's more targeted assignation of blame is perhaps linked to the greater local success of his account. Other, later versions stress the merciful intervention of the Virgin rather than the wrath of God, by focusing upon a small Marian chapel spared in the catastrophe. Berlioz gracefully brings forth these differences in order to demonstrate the multiplicity of interpretations of natural catastrophes in the texts.
Another personal favorite, Chapter Six, discusses an unpublished exemplum of Etienne de Bourbon. This anecdote rather startlingly explains the stormy weather of the Pilat mountains as due to the noxious presence of Pontius Pilate's corpse, supposedly thrown into a well there after being hung on an iron hook in the Church of Notre-Dame de la Vie. Here de Bourbon interweaves a number of disparate elements into a tale that gives meaning to the local environment by investing it with transcendent significances. Thus we see traditional folkloric motifs (a magic well) placed beside Christian history; added to this mix is the local weather pattern and a local object (the iron hook, which de Bourbon explains still exists in the church); and then the whole story is tied together by a homonym pair (Mount Pilat -- Pontius Pilate). De Bourbon's exemplum provides a sort of foundation myth for local meteorological patterns, thus lending them a symbolic importance beyond their local context. The ongoing natural calamity of tempestuous weather is not random, but meaningful: it is a cosmic protest in which the very earth and heavens make manifest Pilate's evil.
In sum, this is an extremely stimulating group of essays that addresses a truly fundamental question: how did medieval people relate to their environment? The answer, of course, is that there is no single answer, and herein lies the book's biggest strength as well as its biggest weakness. The power of Berlioz's approach lies in its specificity: he eschews broad generalizations and instead presents a highly disciplined reading of his sources within their varied contexts. His close readings and juxtapositions of different authors and texts are expertly handled and yield fruitful results. However, I also felt that the book whetted my appetite without fully satisfying it, for the essays raise compelling questions that only a longer, more synthetic treatment can fully address. One can be distracted by the feeling of reading notes towards a terrific monograph that may not appear (perhaps Berlioz is planning one, but if so there is no mention of it here). However, the essays are fascinating on their own merits, and well worth reading for anyone interested in medieval culture and mentalities.
NOTES:
[1] M.-D. Chenu, Nature, Man, and Society in the Twelfth Century. Trans. Jerome Taylor and Lester K. Little. Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1997. p. 5.