This collection comprises of some of Jean-Loup Lemaître's essays, curated by Patrick Henriet with the collaboration of Pauline Bouchard, and anthologizes some of Lemaître's output between 1984 and 2009. Amongst an enormous production of some 432 publications between 1964 and 2019, the editors selected certain petits bijoux (small gems) which have been somewhat bypassed by the historiography because of, most often, their places of publication. The present volume, which gathers some twenty of them, represents a concerted effort at broadcasting more widely the impeccable scholarship of Lean-Loup Lemaître.
This volume belongs to the École pratique des hautes études, sciences historiques et philologiques' series "Hautes études médiévales et moderne," number 112, and more to the point, is (my Italics) an homage to one of its own. Engineer at the CNRS between 1969 and 1989, Lemaître benefited from the tutelage of some of the École's best, Bernard Guenée, Robert Boutruche, Pierre Toubert, and Jacques Dubois, amongst many others. It is at the École that he completed his thesis, "Mourir à Saint Martial" ("To die at St. Martial") focused on the commemoration of the dead, along with its support and means, at the prestigious Benedictine abbey of St. Martial in Limoges--known for its saint of course but also as one of the greatest medieval European libraries. This thesis and Lemaître's preceding and succeeding works put him on track to become one of the leading historians of medieval death-practices, and more especially of the commemorative supports to honor and remember the dead, in essence lists of the names of the dead.
It may be relevant at this point to discuss Lemaître's main research focus, the various "books of the dead" available to medieval communities. Jean-Loup Lemaître's scholarship is actually anchored in identifying, itemizing, categorizing, and as such clarifying their nomenclature and utilization. The subject is tackled in one of the articles reproduced in the present volume ("Nécrologes et obituaires: Une source privilégiée pour l'histoire des institutions ecclésiastiques et de la société au Moyen-Âge?" 111-118). There is a rich historiography on the topic, of which two names stand out, Nicolas Huyghebaert and Jean-Loup Lemaître (who eventually completed Huyghebaert's répértoire). Both authors attempted to identify the variety of nomenclature for medieval lists of the names of the dead. Huyghebaert distinguished between a necrology, a liturgical book, and an obituary, a non-liturgical book. For Lemaître, the distinctions were irrelevant since the words "obituary" and "necrology" are not medieval; rather authors at the time used terms like regula, martyrologium, or liber, for calendar-based supports on which the names of the dead were inscribed. For Lemaître the mode of inscription, not liturgical usage, distinguished each type of book. A necrology records members of the community who had been admitted to the fraternity of prayers on the day of their death, usually after a bequest. An obituary records the date of celebration of an anniversary paid by a bequest. Both books require three elements: a calendar, the names of the dead, and anniversary foundations. [1]
Historians have argued about the usage of these books, if the names of the dead were actually read out loud, or if the book-lists were simply set on the altar for a "general" commemoration, etc. Thus, they have questioned if they held a liturgical function or were purely tools of remembrance for the officiant. [2] All of this is to say that terminology is tricky, and the function of these calendrical books varied throughout time and space. Entire sets of questions remain to be answered around the actual penning of names, their vocalization during ceremonies and masses, and other questions related to means of remembrance. However, Lemaître paved the way for a deeper knowledge of such lists and provides some answers to these questions.
Lemaître's scholarship on the topic opens the collection with several articles focused on religious communities and the memorialization of their dead through the various necrologies, libri memoriales, libri vitae, obituaries, and chapter books. "Obituaries, calendars, and parochial liturgy," opens the section. An annex listing calendars, including their relevant bibliography, offers a valuable research tool--the entire collection holds many such. The second article addresses Libri memoriales, usually dated from the Carolingian period up to the eleventh century. The article, again, appends a repertory of available European archival material--a precious research tool. The following chapter highlights obituaries, hypothesizing the mutation of necrologies into obituaries sometime between the eleventh and twelfth centuries. His discussion underscores the value of such sources for the social and ecclesiastical history of the Middle Ages; another chapter stresses the biographical and genealogical wealth that the documents hold. Other chapters focus on specific items, like the obituaries of cathedral chapters in Languedoc, or priests' obituaries up to the Council of Trent. In each case, sources are discussed in depth, and the essays end with the location of available sources and abundant bibliographies.
The last article of this section, discussing libri capituli, or Chapter books, from their apparition until the sixteenth century, along with their historiography, offers a transition to the next section on medieval libraries. Chapter books usually held a martyrology, lectionary, the canons' rules, and a necrology or obituary. During the Carolingian period, the Chapter office ended up playing an essential role in the celebration of the dead. It is during these liturgical celebrations that the names of the dead were read. Several illustrations ranging from the eleventh to the sixteenth centuries exemplify the format of such books. The libri capituli's polyvalence leads readers to the second section of the collection, centered on books and libraries, mainly in the French Limousin and Midi.
This second part begins with a discussion and inventory with sources of the Languedoc libraries, their medieval catalogues, and the various spoliae and pillages that depleted some and increased others. We learn for example how early modern kings filled their shelves and the role played by their professional buyers, including certain prelates. In addition to listing available inventories and their archival locations for some thirty-nine abbeys, universities, colleges, and cathedral chapters, Lemaître traces inventories made after the seventeenth-century plunder of Languedoc libraries. This article is followed by another one, focused this time on medieval inventories of monastic libraries in the Limousin, again offering a plethora of archival references.
After having identified where the books went, Lemaître focuses on libraries' content, including pagan "classics" up to Boethius' De consolatione philosophiae. An appendix tabulates the "classic" best sellers of the Midi's ecclesiastical libraries. The focus is then laid on liturgical books in Languedocian parishes, including a sixteen-page inventory of liturgical books available in the diocese of Rodez in 1446-1447 (329-344). The library and the librarians of St. Martial de Limoges between the twelfth and thirteenth century fill the next few pages. A discussion, catalogue, and inventory of medical books found in Clunisian libraries and at St. Martial ends this second section (363-400). The latter may be one of the most important articles because of its scope and relevance to the history of medieval medicine. As always, an annex with sources and provenance is attached to the article. Constantine the African seems to have been the reference, along with Hippocrates, Galen, and Isaac Israeli ben Solomon.
The last section of the collection is dedicated to martyrologies and the cult of the saints. Lemaître emphasizes these books, essential to the daily liturgy of various communities. The story of these martyred saints might have embellished (or enriched?) the lives of medieval ecclesiastics who listened daily to the names, exploits, and deeds of confessors who stood for their faith till usually a brutal end. Again, Lemaître facilitates research by generously offering all information related to provenance, identification, and location of these materials. He follows by editing and publishing the Cistercian martyrology published by Jean Petit in 1689. I should underscore at this point that this is an important publication, equivalent to a book within a book, and it is quite uncommon to see publishers willing to share material to such an extent (452-582).
The last articles of this third section continue Lemaître's evaluation of martyrologies and calendars within the scope of certain historiographical questions. He asks if these documents can represent national identities. Scanning European material, he answers clearly no. As a matter of course, martyrologies are sub-categories (said with no value judgement) of lives of saints. Using this support Lemaître discusses the medieval cult of saints and hagiography between official liturgy and unofficial household rites. One can note in this discussion the finesse of a great researcher who knows how tricky concepts linked to the "intimacy" of religious practices can be. But, for the social historian that I am, identifying where folks set their "saints" in their houses, holds a nice touch of humanity in a discourse that is often dry and disincarnated (608-609). The last two articles address liturgical and hagiographical literature in inventories of medieval libraries, and the cult of relics in the Limousin during the twelfth and thirteenth century.
It is not easy to conclude a book of some 700 pages and identify why specifically this book is important. I could emphasize the scholarship. It is utterly impeccable. Rather, I will emphasize the generosity. For generations to come, students of books, liturgy, hagiography, of the commemoration of the dead, and of the intellectual life of the Midi and of the Languedoc will come to Jean-Loup Lemaître and will use (and maybe abuse) his research--forgetting that one man had the patience, and knowledge, to pore over these sources for us and make them intelligible. Jean-Loup Lemaître may be one of the last of a generation of scholars that is progressively disappearing. A flawless researcher, willing to share his hard-earned labor with all of us. Chapeau Monsieur Lemaître, et merci.
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Notes:
1. See for example Jean-Loup Lemaître, Répértoire des documents nécrologiques français, 2 vols. (Paris: Imprimerie Nationale, 1980); and Nicolas Huyghebaert, Les documents nécrologiques (Turnhout: Brepols, 1972).
2. I discovered both historians while addressing the matriculation lists of the Confraternity of Notre Dame la Majour in Avignon, 1320s-1380s. Of course, while ecclesiastical material is more abundant, the confraternal matriculae offer a convenient parallel between ecclesiastic and secular models--which basically copied ecclesiastic ones, with a few variations, like ending commemoration if dues were not paid. See Joëlle Rollo-Koster, "Forever After: The Dead in the Avignonese Confraternity of Notre Dame la Majour (1329-1381)," Journal of Medieval History 25 (1999): 115-140.