Showing posts with label Reformation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Reformation. Show all posts

Friday, February 7, 2025

A Study in Delusion and Fanaticism—The Bonfire of Vanities Burned Art for Christ

 

Dom Girolamo Savonarola of Florence.

The Bonfire of Vanities was not just a particularly snarky novel by Tom Wolfe or the one of the few movie duds starring Tom Hanks.  It was an event—or more precisely the most famous of a series of events—in Renaissance Italy propagated by elements of the Catholic Church in revulsion against perceived decadence and corruption of the flourishing new culture.

On February 7, 1497, the date of the traditional Mardi Gras festival, crowds whipped up by charismatic Dominican Friar Girolamo Savonarola seized and burned thousands of objects like cosmetics, art, and books in Florence, part of a pattern of defiance of the corruptions of the Church and the Pope himself.

Savonarola can be seen as a forerunner of the Protestant Reformation.  Denouncing clerical hubris, abuse of the poor, and the despotic rule of the Medici, he gathered a fanatical following, especially among the educated young with his promises of new civic glory based on virtue and purity.  

Pope Alexander XI was a Borgia and notorious libertine who lusted for temporal power in Italy was Savonarola's great enemy

It was a time of particular turmoil as Charles VIII of France in 1494 invaded Italy in opposition to Pope Alexander VI and his plans to extend Papal influence and control.  As the mighty French army neared the city Savonarola entered negotiations with the King while his supporters overthrew the Medici and expelled them from the city proclaiming a republic.  He welcomed the French as liberators, defying the direct order of the Pope to join his alliance.  The French, for their part, spared the city from sacking and promised to respect the new republic.

Savonarola was, naturally considered a hero by many.  But Medici and Papal loyalists remained.  To shore up support the Friar staged elaborate public processions and theatrical events both celebrating the new order and promoting purification to earn God’s approval for a New Jerusalem.  The celebrated Bon Fire was the highlight of his movement.  

Florentines Renounce Vanities, a late 91th Century British illustration. 

No one really knows how many great books, musical instruments, paintings, and statues were consigned to the flames along with ostentatious clothing, cosmetics, mirrors, and personal trifles like playing cards.  Some believe the loss to be a cultural catastrophe, while other historians downplay the amount of damage done claiming it was largely symbolic and most fine pieces were either hidden or smuggled out of Florence before the flames could consume them.

Among those caught up in the euphoria of the moment was one of Florence’s leading artists, Sandro Botticelli, who had risen to fame painting allegories from classical mythology, most notably his  stunning The Birth of Venus with its famous nude on the half-shell.  Obviously such themes and sexuality would not be in keeping with Savonarola’s austere piety.  The artist had already moved on to more acceptable themes, particularly various renditions of the Virgin Mary.  The artist may—or may not—have pitched many of his own paintings on the fire.  We do know that for some years he retired from painting all together and was as a result reduced to poverty.  He would later, however, recant his allegiance to Savonarola and regain the patronage of the restored Medici.


Florentine painter  Sandro Botticelli had risen to fame painting allegories from classic mythology.  The Birth of Venus was his most famous work.  But he fell under the sway of Dom Savonarola.  Luckily Venus and many other paintings were hidden or spirited out of the city.  But the artist may have thrown some of his more recent work on the Bonfire.

The French king’s army sliced through Italy with little resistance outside of a couple of stubborn cities which paid heavily for their defiance.  Just weeks after Savonarola’s party in Florence, Charles reached Naples where he claimed the crown of the state that controlled most of southern Italy.  Alarmed by the ease with which Charles had moved, the Pope was able to rally most of the Northern states into the League of Venice.  The idea was to cut off Charles’s return to France with his army and destroy it.  The Republic of Florence had little choice but to formally join the alliance, although under Savonarola’s influence, they never actually committed troops to the Papal force.

After a nasty battle in which he lost most of his loot, Charles got his army safely back to France.  But he had lost Naples already and once friendly northern cities like Florence were coming back into the Papal orbit.

In May of 1497 the Pope formally excommunicated the Friar and threatened to put the city under interdiction unless they surrendered him.  Under pressure from local authorities he withdrew from public preaching and composed a manuscript of justification and a theological reflection, Triumph of the Cross.  Unfortunately for him in it he not only claimed to receive visions from God but hinted that he had been given the power to perform miracles.  Big mistake.  It left him open to the charge of Heresy.

A rival friar and preacher called on Savonarola to prove his innocence by an ordeal by fire.  When another monk and friend volunteered to take the test for him, Savonarola felt he had no choice but to accept the challenge.  On April 7 1497 as he prepared to walk through the fire in the first such ordeal in Florence for 400 years, a rainstorm broke out extinguishing the flames.  As the burden of proof was on him, the crowd took it as a sign that he was guilty.  They attacked his convent.  Savonarola and two other friars were arrested.

Savonarola and two of his Friars were hung and roasted for heresy and schematism.   

On the morning of May 23, 1498, the three friars were led out into the main square where, before a tribunal of high clerics and government officials, they were condemned as heretics and schismatics and sentenced to die.  They were immediately stripped of their Dominican robes down to thin white shirts.  Each ascended to separate gallows on which they were hung with fire burning below them to consume their bodies.  Their ashes were scattered in the Arno River to prevent them from becoming relics for stubborn followers. 

However his partisans remained active as both a religious and political force until the Medici were restored in Florence and the Republic squashed in 1517.

But Savonarola’s idea lived on.  Martin Luther read Triumph of the Cross as did John Calvin.  He was very influential in the briefly flourishing Italian Protestant Reform movement which included the scholars like Faustus Socinus and Giorgio Blandrata who were instrumental in introducing anti-trinitarianism and unitarianism into central and eastern Europe.

On the Catholic side, when it was safe to do so the Dominican Order reclaimed Savonarola and recast him as a benevolent and saintly prophet mostly stripped of his political importance and rougher edges.  Later Catholic reformers would call him the last hope to “prevent the catastrophe of the Reformation.”  And in the 19th Century he would be adopted as a symbol for Italian nationalists and their drive to create a modern nation state.

Savinarola was recast politically as a hero of Italian Republicanism and religiously as the last hope "to prevent the catastrophe" of the Reformation. 

As for the Bonfire business, well, that has been more controversial.  Intellectuals, writers, and artists have looked at it with horror.  As such it has often been referenced directly or indirectly in books, from George Eliot’s Romola to Margaret Atwood’s works which allude to the Bonfire, as in her dystopian novel, The Handmaids Tale.

On the other hand, some have found inspiration in Savonarola’s urge to purge.  In some ways what we have come to think of as 19th Century American Puritanism, especially the obsessive sexual prudery and zeal at suppression of corrupting influences, might be more rightly called Savonarolaism.  Certainly the notorious Anthony Comstock and his Society for the Suppression of Vice are the old Friar’s direct heirs.

And so were and are, whether they know it or not—and most assuredly they do not—all of the modern book burners of whatever stripe.





 

Tuesday, October 3, 2023

The Rocky Road for the Translator of the First English Bible in Print

                      Miles Coverdale, maker of Bibles.

On this day in 1535 the first complete printed English translation of the Bible into was published.  Because its translator Miles Coverdale had been on the lam in Europe for some years due to religious turmoil at home, the book was printed on the continent.  For many years the exact printer and his location were in dispute but has fairly recently been established to be Merten de Keyser in Antwerp.  The book was evidently financed by leading Low Countries Reformers.

Coverdale himself was born in Yorkshire around 1488.  He was ordained a priest in Norwich, a hotbed of religious fervor.  In 1514 he joined the scholarly convent of Austin friars at Cambridge where he was also allowed to pursue his studies at the University.  He was a supporter of Prior Robert Barnes who was sympathetic to the Reformation on the continent.  Barnes was tried for heresy in 1526 and Coverdale was active in his defense.

He left the convent to resume preaching shortly thereafter but was forced to flee the country in as pressure mounted against dissenters in the English Church.  Whether he had already begun his work on a Bible translation is unknown.  But once in Europe, where making the Word of God available in the languages of the people was considered essential to Reform, he was undoubtedly encouraged and financed in his efforts. 

 

                                        The title page of the Coverdale Bible.

The trouble for Coverdale was that although scholarly by bent, he was far from well equipped to undertake such a massive translation.  Although proficient in Latin, he was barely competent in Greek and knew only rudimentary Hebrew.  That meant that he had to rely on either Latin texts or other translations into modern language instead of working from near original material.  He claimed to have consulted “five soundry interpreters” in Latin, English and German as source texts.

His main sources were German texts including Luthers Bible and the Swiss-German version Zürich Bible of Zwingli.  That meant he was working from sources several times removed from original Hebrew, Aramaic, and Greek texts.

In fact, Coverdale also drew heavily on both the Latin Vulgate, a more recent translation from the Greek made possible by the research of Erasmus and the early Humanists, and on the translation of the New Testament and a handful of Old Testament books into English by William Tyndale which had been printed in 1525. 

                                   John Wycliffe, a suppressed earlier translator, in his study.

He did not claim to have used the infamous Wycliffes Bible, translated into Middle English way back around 1390.  That had circulated only hand to hand in manuscript and had resulted in the execution of several churchmen over a number of decades who possessed or passed it along.

But Coverdale helped himself to big chunks, barely disguised from Tyndale.  Tyndale himself ran afoul of the Counter Reformation and was executed by strangulation as a heretic in 1536, the year after Coverdale’s version first appeared.

                       Henry VIII, painted here in 1431, sponsored Coverdale's two Bible translations before turning on him.

Obviously things were getting dangerous in Europe for Bible translators.  On the other hand, things were becoming more congenial back home in England.

Coverdale had managed to dash back to Cambridge in 1531 to finish his bachelors degree at the University and had managed to make it back to Antwerp with his head still attached to his body.  Then in 1534 Henry VIII, the former Defender of the FaithCatholicism—broke with the Roman Church over certain domestic matters and established a new national Church with himself at its head.

Originally it was expected that the new Church would simply continue Catholic practice and usage intact.  But almost from the beginning Reformers sought to make the church over in the manner of the Lutherans and other Protestants.  When Henry decided to break up the Monasteries and appropriate their lands and wealth for the Crown, he found more reason than ever to be sympathetic to that trend.

Coverdale arrived back in England to find himself a favorite of the King in 1539.  His Bible was printed for the first time in the country in folio and quarter-folio editions, carried the Royal license and was therefore the first officially approved Bible translation in English. 

For better or worse Coverdale's fortunes were linked to his patron, Thomas Cromwell who fell from Henry VIII's favor.

He was already at that time editing yet another new version of the Bible known as the Great Book. This version drew even more strongly on Tyndale than his first effort under the sponsorship of Thomas Cromwell, the king’s first minister. Henry was so enthusiastic in fact that he ordered every parish in England to procure a copy and keep chained but publicly available in every chapel so the any literate person would have direct access to the Scripture in the vernacular.

Despite the success of the newer version, Coverdale’s first version continued to be printed in new editions through 1553.

But the favor of the mercurial monarch was a hard thing to hold.  In 1440 Coverdale’s friend and main sponsor at court, Thomas Cromwell, the king’s former first minister lost his head. Cromwell was also the leading voice for remaking the Church of England along Protestant lines.  With the balance of power swinging back to the Anglo-Catholic party, Coverdale had to return to Europe for this own safety.

He lived in impoverished exile in the German states.  From 1543 to 1547 he was a pastor and schoolmaster at Bergzabern in the Palatinate Electorate. 

Winds of change blew fortunate for Coverdale when Henry’s son Edward VI assumed the throne.  He was made personal chaplain to the boy king and then appointed Bishop of Exeter in 1653.

 

Coverdale prospered briefly as chaplain to the Boy King Edward VI and as Bishop of Exeter.  The young king's heir, his very Catholic sister Mary, was not amused.

When Henry’s daughter Mary, who had remained a good Catholic, assumed the throne in 1657, Coverdale was ousted from his See and once again went into exile.  For the next several years he bounced around Europe.

It was safe to return again 1654 but he was unable to reclaim his Bishopric.  He served a modest parish as Rector of St. Magnuss, near London Bridge and increasingly drawn to Puritanism.  He died, however, still in the good graces of the Church of England.

The Anglican Church still has a soft spot in its heart for the old maker of Bibles.  It still uses his translation of the Psalter in the Book of Common Prayer.

Want to know what Coverdale’s work sounded like?  First here is the familiar VIII Psalm as he rendered it in The Coverdale Bible:

 

The Lord is my shepherde, I can wante nothinge. He fedeth me in a grene pasture, ād ledeth me to a fresh water. He quickeneth my soule, & bringeth me forth in the waye of rightuousnes for his names sake. Though I shulde walke now in the valley of the shadowe of death, yet I feare no euell, for thou art with me: thy staffe & thy shepehoke cōforte me. Thou preparest a table before me agaynst mine enemies: thou anoyntest my heade with oyle, & fyllest my cuppe full. Oh let thy louynge kyndnes & mercy folowe me all the dayes off my life, that I maye dwell in the house off the LORD for euer.

And here it is in the Book of Common Prayer Psalter:

The Lord is my shepherd therefore can I lack nothing. He shall feed me in a green pasture and lead me forth beside the waters of comfort. He shall convert my soul and bring me forth in the paths of righteousness, for his Name's sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff comfort me. Thou shalt prepare a table before me against them that trouble me thou hast anointed my head with oil, and my cup shall be full. But thy loving-kindness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.

Not yet the majestic cadences of the King James Version but getting there.

 

 

Friday, February 7, 2020

The Bonfire of Vanities —Burning Art for Christ

Dom Girolamo Savonarola of Florence.

The Bonfire of Vanities was not just a particularly snarky novel by Tom Wolfe or the one of the few movie duds starring Tom Hanks.  It was an event—or more precisely the most famous of a series of events—in Renaissance Italy propagated by elements of the Catholic Church in revulsion against perceived decadence and corruption of the flourishing new culture.

On February 7, 1497, the date of the traditional Mardi Gras festival, crowds whipped up by charismatic Dominican Friar Girolamo Savonarola seized and burned thousands of objects like cosmetics, art, and books in Florence, part of a pattern of defiance to the corruptions of the Church and to the Pope himself.

Savonarola can be seen as a forerunner of the Protestant Reformation.  Denouncing clerical hubris, abuse of the poor, and the despotic rule of the Medici, he gathered a fanatical following, especially among the educated young with his promises of new civic glory based on virtue and purity.  


Pope Alexander XI was a Borgia and notorious libertine who lusted for temporal power in Italy was Savonarola's great enemy

It was a time of particular turmoil as Charles VIII of France in 1494 invaded Italy in opposition to Pope Alexander VI and his plans to extend Papal influence and control.  As the mighty French army neared the city Savonarola entered negotiations with the king while his supporters overthrew the Medici and expelled them from the city proclaiming a republic.  He welcomed the French as liberators, defying the direct order of the Pope to join his alliance.  The French, for their part, spared the city from sacking and promised to respect the new republic.

Savonarola was, naturally considered a hero by many.  But Medici and Papal loyalists remained.  To shore up support the Friar staged elaborate public processions and theatrical events both celebrating the new order and promoting purification to earn God’s approval for a New Jerusalem.  The celebrated Bon Fire was the highlight of his movement.  


                                    Florentines Renounce Vanities, a late 91th Century British illustration.

No one really knows how many great books, musical instruments, paintings, and statues were consigned to the flames along with ostentatious clothing, cosmetics, mirrors, and personal trifles like playing cards.  Some believe the loss to be a cultural catastrophe, while other historians downplay the amount of damage done claiming it was largely symbolic and most fine pieces were either hidden or smuggled out of Florence before the flames could consume them.

Among those caught up in the euphoria of the moment was one of Florence’s leading artists, Sandro Botticelli who had risen to fame painting allegories from classical mythology, most notably his  stunning The Birth of Venus with its famous nude on the half-shell.  Obviously such themes and sexuality would not be in keeping with Savonarola’s austere piety.  The artist had already moved on to more acceptable themes, particularly various renditions of the Virgin Mary.  The artists may—or may not—have pitched many of his own paintings on the fire.  We do know that for some years he retired from painting all together and was as a result reduced to poverty.  He would later, however, recant his allegiance to Savonarola and regain the patronage of the restored Medici.


Florentine painter  Sandro Botticelli had risen to fame painting allegories from classic mythology.  The Birth of Venus was his most famous work.  But he fell under the sway of Dom Savonarola.  Luckily Venus and many other paintings were hidden or spirited out ot the city.  But the artist may have thrown some of his more recent work on the Bonfire.

The French king’s army sliced through Italy with little resistance outside of a couple of stubborn cities which paid heavily for their defiance.  Just weeks after Savonarola’s party in Florence, Charles reached Naples where he claimed the crown of the state that controlled most of southern Italy.  Alarmed by the ease with which Charles had moved, the Pope was able to rally most of the Northern states into the League of Venice.  The idea was to cut off Charles’s return to France with his army and destroy it.  The Republic of Florence had little choice but to formally join the alliance, although under Savonarola’s influence, they never actually committed troops to the Papal force.

After a nasty battle in which he lost most of his loot, Charles got his army safely back to France.  But he had lost Naples already and once friendly northern cities like Florence were coming back into the Papal orbit.  

In May of 1497 the Pope formally excommunicated the Friar and threatened to put the city under interdiction unless they surrendered him.  Under pressure from local authorities he withdrew from public preaching and composed a manuscript of justification and a theological reflection, Triumph of the Cross.  Unfortunately for him in it he not only claimed to receive visions from God, but hinted that he had been given the power to perform miracles.  Big mistake.  It left him open to the charge of Heresy.

A rival friar and preacher called on Savonarola to prove his innocence by an ordeal by fire.  When another monk and friend volunteered to take the test for him, Savonarola felt he had no choice but to accept the challenge.  On April 7 1497 as he prepared to walk through the fire in the first such ordeal in Florence for 400 years, a rainstorm broke out extinguishing the flames.  As the burden of proof was on him, the crowd took it as a sign that he was guilty.  They attacked his convent.  Savonarola and two other friars were arrested. 


          Savonarola and two of his Friars were hung and roasted for heresy and schematism. 

On the morning of May 23, 1498, the three friars were led out into the main square where, before a tribunal of high clerics and government officials, they were condemned as heretics and schismatics, and sentenced to die.  They were immediately stripped of their Dominican robes down to thin white shirts.  Each ascended to separate gallows on which they were hung with fire burning below them to consume their bodies.  Their ashes were scattered in the Arno River to prevent them from becoming relics for stubborn followers. 

However his partisans remained active as both a religious and political force until the Medici were restored in Florence and the Republic squashed in 1517.

But Savonarola’s idea lived on.  Martin Luther read Triumph of the Cross as did John Calvin.  He was very influential in the briefly flourishing Italian Protestant Reform movement which included the scholars like Faustus Socinus and Giorgio Blandrata who were instrumental in introducing anti-trinitarianism and unitarianism into central and eastern Europe.

On the Catholic side, when it was safe to do so the Dominican Order reclaimed Savonarola and recast him as a benevolent and saintly prophet mostly stripped of his political importance and rougher edges.  Later Catholic reformers would call him the last hope to “prevent the catastrophe of the Reformation.”  And in the 19th Century he would be adopted as a symbol for Italian nationalists and their drive to create a modern nation state.


Savinarola was recast politically as a hero of Italian Republicanism and religiously as the last hope "to prevent the catastrophe" of the Reformation.

As for the Bonfire business, well, that has been more controversial.  Intellectuals, writers, and artists have looked on it with horror.  As such it has often been referenced directly or indirectly in books from George Eliot’s Romola to Margaret Atwood’s works which allude to the Bonfire, as in her dystopian novel, The Handmaid’s Tale.

On the other hand, some have found inspiration in Savonarola’s urge to purge.  In some ways what we have come to think of as 19th Century American Puritanism, especially the obsessive sexual prudery and zeal at suppression of corrupting influences, might be more rightly called Savonarolaism.  Certainly the notorious Anthony Comstock and his Society for the Suppression of Vice are the old Friar’s direct heirs.

And so were and are, whether they know it or not—and most assuredly they do not—all of the modern book burners of whatever stripe.