20 20 5655 https://s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/sjcdigitalarchives/original/b5669e43d583f60a343fe0bf615cbe49.jpg 265069d2d95cbdee15ec77281da4fc0e Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Image Collection—Annapolis Description An account of the resource <p>The Greenfield Library Image Collection houses over 5,000 photographs, postcards, drawings, and other graphic materials.  The images in the collection document the history, academic, and community life of St. John’s College. </p> To learn more about the Greenfield Library's archives use policy or to obtain high-resolution images, please see the <strong><a title="Image Collection Use Policy" href="http://www.sjc.edu/academic-programs/libraries/greenfield-library/policies/#photographicarchivepolicy" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Library’s Image Collection Use Policy</a></strong>.<br /><br />Click on <strong><a title="Photographic Archives" href="http://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/browse?collection=7">Items in the Image Collection—Annapolis Collection</a></strong> to view and sort all items in the collection. Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available St. John's College Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource St. John's College Greenfield Library Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context imagecollectionannapolis Still Image A static visual representation. Examples include paintings, drawings, graphic designs, plans and maps. Recommended best practice is to assign the type Text to images of textual materials. Physical Dimensions The actual physical size of the original image 12 x 9.5 cm Original Format The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data Photograph Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context SJC-P-0512 Title A name given to the resource Barbara Kulacki and J. Dabney Morriss Seated in Seminar, St. John's College, Annapolis, Maryland Description An account of the resource 1 photographic print : b&w Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1962 Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Unknown Subject The topic of the resource Seminar (St. John's College, Annapolis, MD). St. John's College (Annapolis, Md.) -- Students. Kulacki, Barbara Morriss, J. Dabney Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Type The nature or genre of the resource Still Image Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource jpeg Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource St. John's College owns the rights to this photograph. Alumni https://s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/sjcdigitalarchives/original/6fe2162757f6dd97e9ea083d5a4ae7c5.jpg c07100d99cddb3d8b3c6d94bbdf4442d Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Image Collection—Annapolis Description An account of the resource <p>The Greenfield Library Image Collection houses over 5,000 photographs, postcards, drawings, and other graphic materials.  The images in the collection document the history, academic, and community life of St. John’s College. </p> To learn more about the Greenfield Library's archives use policy or to obtain high-resolution images, please see the <strong><a title="Image Collection Use Policy" href="http://www.sjc.edu/academic-programs/libraries/greenfield-library/policies/#photographicarchivepolicy" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Library’s Image Collection Use Policy</a></strong>.<br /><br />Click on <strong><a title="Photographic Archives" href="http://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/browse?collection=7">Items in the Image Collection—Annapolis Collection</a></strong> to view and sort all items in the collection. Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available St. John's College Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource St. John's College Greenfield Library Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context imagecollectionannapolis Still Image A static visual representation. Examples include paintings, drawings, graphic designs, plans and maps. Recommended best practice is to assign the type Text to images of textual materials. Physical Dimensions The actual physical size of the original image 12 x 9.5 cm. Original Format The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data Photograph Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context SJC-P-0513 Title A name given to the resource Barbara Kulacki and J. Dabney Morriss Seated in Seminar, St. John's College, Annapolis, Maryland Description An account of the resource 1 photographic print : b&w Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1962 Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Unknown Subject The topic of the resource Seminar (St. John's College, Annapolis, MD). St. John's College (Annapolis, Md.) -- Students. Kulacki, Barbara Morriss, J. Dabney Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Type The nature or genre of the resource Still Image Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource jpeg Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource St. John's College owns the rights to this photograph. Alumni https://s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/sjcdigitalarchives/original/aa521d2ce467850e0e1da1f1c9d59e7a.jpg e807c3adba63e66872edd8f019690495 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Image Collection—Annapolis Description An account of the resource <p>The Greenfield Library Image Collection houses over 5,000 photographs, postcards, drawings, and other graphic materials.  The images in the collection document the history, academic, and community life of St. John’s College. </p> To learn more about the Greenfield Library's archives use policy or to obtain high-resolution images, please see the <strong><a title="Image Collection Use Policy" href="http://www.sjc.edu/academic-programs/libraries/greenfield-library/policies/#photographicarchivepolicy" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Library’s Image Collection Use Policy</a></strong>.<br /><br />Click on <strong><a title="Photographic Archives" href="http://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/browse?collection=7">Items in the Image Collection—Annapolis Collection</a></strong> to view and sort all items in the collection. Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available St. John's College Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource St. John's College Greenfield Library Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context imagecollectionannapolis Still Image A static visual representation. Examples include paintings, drawings, graphic designs, plans and maps. Recommended best practice is to assign the type Text to images of textual materials. Physical Dimensions The actual physical size of the original image 17.5 x 13 cm. Original Format The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data Photograph Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context SJC-P-2338 Title A name given to the resource Barbara Leonard Seated with Book, St. John's College, Annapolis, Maryland Description An account of the resource 1 photographic print : b&w Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Parran, Thomas Subject The topic of the resource Leonard, Barbara Hopkins Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Type The nature or genre of the resource Still Image Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource jpeg Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource St. John's College owns the rights to this photograph. Deans Tutors https://s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/sjcdigitalarchives/original/c807f1ad35c32178e75b2cd55e4d76c3.jpg e071a143a3a2a89cacac016214badd02 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Image Collection—Annapolis Description An account of the resource <p>The Greenfield Library Image Collection houses over 5,000 photographs, postcards, drawings, and other graphic materials.  The images in the collection document the history, academic, and community life of St. John’s College. </p> To learn more about the Greenfield Library's archives use policy or to obtain high-resolution images, please see the <strong><a title="Image Collection Use Policy" href="http://www.sjc.edu/academic-programs/libraries/greenfield-library/policies/#photographicarchivepolicy" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Library’s Image Collection Use Policy</a></strong>.<br /><br />Click on <strong><a title="Photographic Archives" href="http://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/browse?collection=7">Items in the Image Collection—Annapolis Collection</a></strong> to view and sort all items in the collection. Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available St. John's College Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource St. John's College Greenfield Library Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context imagecollectionannapolis Still Image A static visual representation. Examples include paintings, drawings, graphic designs, plans and maps. Recommended best practice is to assign the type Text to images of textual materials. Physical Dimensions The actual physical size of the original image 8.5 x 9 cm. Original Format The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data Black and white photographic print Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context SJC-P-0538 Title A name given to the resource Barbara Oosterhout, Sarah Covington (Crooke), and students playing tug of war on Back Campus during the first Real Olympics, St. John's College, Annapolis, Maryland Description An account of the resource Barbara Oosterhout, Sarah Covington (Crooke), and students playing tug of war on Back Campus during the first Real Olympics, St. John's College, Annapolis, Maryland, June 1955. Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1955-06 Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Unknown Subject The topic of the resource Real Olympics (St. John's College, Annapolis, MD). St. John's College (Annapolis, Md.) -- Students. Tug of war (Game) Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Type The nature or genre of the resource still image Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource jpeg Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource In Copyright https://rightsstatements.org/page/InC/1.0/?language=en Alumni First Real Olympics Real Olympics Reality https://s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/sjcdigitalarchives/original/8400052347b22e63ce9ca1843dc0a0b4.pdf 9e47334dcb1ceffbb9bd6e9724228aeb PDF Text Text SYMBOLIC HISTORY Through Sight and Sound 20. Baroque Formulation CHARLES G. BELL ST. JOHN'S COLLEGE SANTA FE, NEW MEXICO or 1260 CANYON ROAD SANTA FE, NEW MEXICO 87501 January 1993 Last Revised January ‘96 �Charles Greenleaf Bell, 1260 Canyon Rd., Santa Fe, NM 87501 SYMBOLIC HISTORY Through Sight and Sound 20. Baroque Formulation 1) Guercino, 1621, Aurora ceiling fresco, vertical section, Casino Ludovisi, Rome (video, center-spread only) Same, horizontal view of whole (video, horses only) Same, detail of 1 (video then returns to the horizontal whole of 1a) 1a) 1b) MUSIC: Monteverdi, 1607, Orfeo, Toccata into Prologue, ARC-3035 If Baroque is to signify a period style (that, more or less, of the 17th century), its character cannot be the faulted irregularity of the word's origin, whether from a strained syllogism or a lopsided pearl; we must deepen our search for its quality, at the same time allowing that no element, neither abandon nor control, tactile realism or ideal grandeur, space, radiance, chiaroscuro, or in music monody, homophony, chromatics, can specify a style, but only the ethos-bearing configurations in which such moments are combined. (Music) It is by idea that we recognize, date, and name: as Guercino's Aurora, 1621, Monteverdi's Orfeo, 1607. Not only the space-crowding and shadowed passion of this Guercino render it Baroque; (Fade music) since what it rivals, 2) Guido Reni, 1610 ff., Aurora, Rospigliosi Palace, Rome; + V details the 1610 Guido Reni, MUSIC: Monteverdi, Orfeo, cont., Lasciati i monti, ARC-3035 is of the same style-horizon, and yet two centuries would extoll its classical ordering — as richly formal, as voluptuously academic as the Parnassus Milton evokes at the close of Comus, 1634: 1/1993 Baroque Formulation 1 �C.G. Bell Symbolic History To the Ocean now I fly, And those happy climes that ly Where day never shuts his eye, Up in the broad fields of the sky: There I suck the liquid ayr All amidst the Gardens fair Of Hesperus, and his daughters three That sing about the golden tree: Along the crisped shades and bowres Revels the spruce and jocund Spring, The Graces, and the rosie-boosom'd Howres, Thither all their bounties bring, That there eternal Summer dwels, a3) Poussin, 1631, Realm of Flora, Gallery, Dresden: detail of group center-left (first, a video detail of Flora, standing) Same, whole picture 3) And West winds with musky wing About the cedar'n alleys fling Nard and Cassia's balmy smels. Iris there with humid bow, Waters the odorous banks that blow Flowers of more mingled hew Than her purfl'd scarf can shew, And drenches with Elysian dew (List mortals, if your ears be true) Beds of Hyacinth, and roses Where young Adonis oft reposes, Waxing well of his deep wound In slumber soft, and on the ground Sadly sits th' Assyrian Queen … MUSIC: Orfeo, continued: Mira deh Mira, and Ahi Caso acerbo, opening A classic joy, complicit, as in the Orfeo or in Poussin's Realm of Flora, 4) 4a) 1/1993 Same, detail to the right, with Hyacinthus and others Slide: closer detail of Hyacinthus alone; or video pan detail of 3: far left, the suicide of Ajax Baroque Formulation 2 �C.G. Bell Symbolic History with the ripe sob of grief. What these works share — in light and calm, in shade and pathos — is the swell of heroic formulation, what stretches the Orfeo between flown recitative and figured bass. (Fade Orfeo.) Va5) Annibale Carracci, c. 1603, Flight to Egypt, Doria, Rome, with frame arch entire (CGB '86) 5) Same, with part of frame arch (CGB '86) 5a) Same, detail of barge (CGB '86) 5b) Poussin, 1648-51, Landscape with a Snake, National Gallery, London MUSIC: Orfeo, Act III, Sinfonia III and Possente spirto, opening, ARC-3036 Indeed, a polar tension of the age we call Baroque — like every such, spectrumblended in artists who seem opposed — sets on one side the balance taught by the Eclectics: this 1603 Carracci Holy Family come to Egypt, like Monteverdi's Orpheus, by Charon's barque. ("Possente spirto") All his life Poussin would seek that dignity of landscape planes; a6) Claude Lorrain, 1645-6, The Judgment of Paris, National Gallery, Washington, D.C.; + V detail of landscape to the right Claude Lorrain, c. 1655(?), Cephalus and Procris, National Gallery, London; + V detail 6) Claude would suffuse its rural fact with Arcadian vision; while music from Monteverdi (Fade violins) to the French Chambonnieres, MUSIC: Chambonnieres, c. 1660(?), Chaconne (Landowska) V. 15180 wakes such strains as Virtue does in Comus: At last a soft and solemn breathing sound Rose like a steam of rich distill'd Perfumes, And stole upon the Air, that even Silence Was took ere she was ware, and wish't she might Deny her nature, and be never more, Still to be so displac't. I was all eare, 1/1993 Baroque Formulation 3 �C.G. Bell Symbolic History And took in strains that might create a soul Under the ribs of Death … (Fade Chambonnieres.) Va7 Caravaggio, 1605-06, Death of the Virgin, Louvre, Paris (video: center detail only) b7) Same, closer detail of Mary (video: horizontal spread) 7) Caravaggio, 1602-04, Entombment of Christ, detail, Vatican 7a) Caravaggio, 1600-01, Conversion of St. Paul, detail of Paul struck down; Santa Maria del Popolo, Rome (cf. V7a) V7b) Caravaggio, 1598-1600, Martyrdom of St. Matthew, S. Luigi dei Francesi, Rome (video: center only) Against that measured tread, Caravaggio, by 1600, had forged the counterpole of Tenebrist passion. But the same Orfeo which gave us classical parallels, darkens to chromatic pain. MUSIC: Orfeo, from Act II, I languidi lumi and chorus, ARC-3035 The same Comus which twined Hesperian gardens, initiates the brooding vindication of Paradise Lost: (Chorus: Ahi caso acerbo) But evil on it self shall back recoyl, And mix no more with goodness, when at last, Gather'd like scum, and setl'd to it self It shall be in eternal restless change Self-fed, and self-consum'd, if this fail, The pillar'd firmament is rott'nness, And earths base built on stubble. a8) Same, Martyrdom of St. Matthew, detail of killer Vb8) Caravaggio, 1609, Raising of Lazarus, detail, Mus., Messina 8) Rembrandt(?), 1651(?), Descent from the Cross, National Gallery, Washington, D.C. 8a) Rembrandt, 1648, Supper at Emmaus, detail, Louvre, Paris (cf. V8b) V8c) Rembrandt(?), 1657, Crucifixion, Clark Museum, Williamston, MA (video returns to a detail of 8, Rembrandt, Descent from the Cross) 1/1993 Baroque Formulation 4 �C.G. Bell Symbolic History Already the prophet scourging "The dark Idolatries/ Of alienated Judah," and "Moloch, horrid King besmear'd with blood/ Of human sacrifice …" The deepening of that naturalism of light and shade as it spreads from Caravaggio to the solemn pity of Rembrandt, does not alter whatever conscious formulation flexed the bow of the Great Baroque. Pagan and Christian, south to north, runs one groundswell of mighty style, as when Monteverdi's operatic song sires the Pietistic German of Heinrich Schütz: "For you are my Helper, my Helper and my Saviour, my God …" MUSIC: Schütz, 1636, close of Cantata "Eile Gott" (Psalm 40), (Meili) AS-28 (end) 9) German, c. 1030, MS 1640, f 117v, Christ on the Sea of Galilee, Hessische Bibliothek, Darmstadt; + V detail V9a) Regensburg or Salzburg, c. 1040, Christ on the Sea of Galilee, Staatsbibliothek, Munich (with video return to 9) In six centuries we have come from the symbolic calligraph of this storm on the Sea of Galilee, the boat of the world on the fallow waves (fealu wegas) of Germanic wandering — Cynnewulf: "anxious the struggle/ To bring our barks to land over the dire sea surges/ The Son of God our rescue." Here he sleeps in the presaged Leviathan of death and hell. MUSIC: Catalan, 11th cent., from "In eadem quippe," Gerona MS, Musical Heritage, OR-433 While the sequences and tropes of 1000 contract all things to the Dark Age center of Gregorian voice and parallel melisma. (Fade Catalan.) 10) V10a) V10b) V10c) V10d) Rembrandt, 1633, Storm on the Sea of Galilee, Gardner, Boston Schönfeld, c. 1640, The Flood, Mus. Kassel: two details only v.d. Neer, River Town Ablaze, National Gallery, Dublin (CGB '74) Details of 10: Rembrandt's Storm on the Sea of Galilee Rembrandt (and Flinck), 1636, Sacrifice of Isaac, Alte Pinakothek, Munich (CGB '59) (video: detail only) MUSIC: 1/1993 Schütz, 1636, same Cantata, “Eile mich”, opening, AS-28 Baroque Formulation 5 �C.G. Bell Symbolic History The same scene in Rembrandt confronts the new physics with the life-imperative of Protestant will: Schütz, Eile Mich, Gott zu erreten. Fleming has such a storm poem ("Des Donners wilder Plitz schlug von sich manchen Stoss"): The lightning from its cloud struck endless blows; Mortal men stood wan; the torn sky trembled Resounding to the crash; earth under crumbled, Sank below my feet; the cracked ground uprose To meet my fall, yawned tomb-wide, to enclose My pilgrim days. I took to the sea: tumbled In rage it swelled cliff-high; my carrack, humbled, Broke mast and split and settled to its close. (Skip to "immer sagen") Before, behind, on all sides round was fear; Above destruction and beneath the grave; There was no mother's son to help or save; And yet I was unbowed, thought life as dear, Nor fled impending death or when or where, Safe in the arms of my Redeemer's care. (CGB) (Close organ phrase.) 11) Cologne, c. 1400, St. Veronica's Veil, Alte Pinakothek, Munich; + V detail Within the shorter span, set Veronica's nakpin, Rhenish early 15th century — and the Christe Eleison from Dufay's first mass — MUSIC: 12) Dufay, c. 1420, 3rd Christe Eleison, Missa sine Nomine, Lyrichord LLST7234 (Fade Dufay.) Fetti, c. 1620, Veil of Veronica, National Gallery, Washington, D.C.; + V details against Fetti's handling, about 1620 — with the Crucifixus from Carissimi's Mass for Five and Nine. MUSIC: Carissimi, c. 1650(?), from Crucifixus, Missa a Quinque et a Novem, MHS-1110 So Marino's Adone asserts the primacy of the tactile: 1/1993 Baroque Formulation 6 �C.G. Bell Symbolic History Every other sense can be deluded by false objects; this one only is true, faithful minister and father of delights; the others possess parts of the body; touch extends its power through the whole, and in universal act, seizes on all things. (CGB) (Fade Carissimi.) 13) Michelangelo, 1513-16, Moses, detail, S. Pietro in Vincoli, Rome No wonder the turn to Baroque was once assigned to Michelangelo. But the transpersonal might of his Renaissance ingathering is far 14) Rubens, 1603-4, Judas Thaddaus, Prado, Madrid (video: detail only) from the conscious rhetoric of the century of Rubens, or of Milton's blind touch: In darkness, and with dangers compast round, And solitude; yet not alone, while thou Vist'st my slumbers Nightly, or when Morn Purples the East … (Paradise Lost, VII) 15) V15a) Persian, c. 1400(?), Jonah and the Whale, Metroplitan Museum, NYC Double: [A] Japan, 607 A.D., Bronze Buddha, Horgu-ji, Nara; and [B] Kamakura, 1328, Shinto deity as Bodhisattva, Fine Arts, Boston (video returns to 15, Jonah and the Whale The spatial filling-in of the symbolic is not confined to the art-history of the West. The whole current of the later world may have run that way, as in the Japanese garden refinements of the Buddha. To pass from this 1425 Persian representation of Jonah, as flat as Gothic, 16) Iran (for Shah Tamasp), 1527-28, Rustrum Cleaves a Witch, Book of Kings, Metropolitan Museum, New York City (video shows detail only) to the adventures of the Book of Kings a hundred years later, is to parallel the Italian Renaissance — as Gentile Bellini's sketch of a Turkish artist might remind us — in touch with the Moslem East. 1/1993 Baroque Formulation 7 �C.G. Bell 17) Symbolic History Simone Martini, 1315-21, Madonna from the Maestas, Palazzo Publico, Siena Same, wider section V17a) But only Europe goes from thinness and ideality MUSIC: Jacobo da Bologna, c. 1340, Fenice fu, close, ARC-3003, or AS-59 (already in 14th century Ars Nova and Simone Martini exploring later modalities), (Close Fenice fu.) Va18) 18) El Greco, 1577-79, The Trinity, upper detail, Prado, Madrid Same, closer detail of Father and Son through a dynamic crisis, both symbolic and physical — so Victoria and El Greco — MUSIC: Victoria, pub. 1605, from Kyrie of Missa Pro Defunctis, Vox DL-690 (Close) 19) Francesco del Cairo, 1630-35, Herodias, detail, Metropolitan Museum, New York City (CGB '74) V19a) Same, whole, including frame (CGB '74) 19b) Bernini, 1668-70, Angel with Scroll and Crown of Thorns, S. Andrea delle Fratte, Rome MUSIC: Frescobaldi, 1630, from Voi Partite mio sole, (Meili) AS-79 to an art of volitional command, as causally flexed as the moments of a Newtonian force array. So the tragedies of Corneille turn on heroic obligation — family against king, love against honor; as when the Cid discovers in the insulter of his father the father of his love: Miserable vengeur d'une juste querelle — Whichever way, fierce anguish follows me … I draw the sword of pain, To seek, alas, the father of Chimene. (CGB) Frescobaldi's recitative plucks the reflective chords of the viscera. (Close Frescobaldi.) 1/1993 Baroque Formulation 8 �C.G. Bell 20) 20a) V20b) For V20c) Symbolic History Rembrandt, 1629, Self Portrait, Alte Pinakothek, Munich (CGB '53) Rembrandt, c. 1634, Self Portrait, Uffizi, Florence Rembrandt, c. 1628, Self Portrait, Stattl. Kunstsammlungen, Kassel Video goes here to a21 (see below) At the center of the change lies the validating subjectivity of the infinite self, as much a point of departure for Rembrandt, 1629, as for Descartes' "wonderful science" — its 1619 discovery, in the famous "room with a stove", described in the Method, of 1637: As for the opinions I had received up to that time, I thought it better to make a clean sweep and throw them all away. … Thus, seeing that our senses sometimes deceive us, I was ready to suppose that there was no such reality as they give us images of; and because reason can err, even in geometry, I rejected what before had seemed the surest proofs; moreover, since such thoughts as come to us waking can also visit our sleep, I resolved to treat all that had entered my mind as no more real than the figments of my dreams. But in the act of thinking all was false, it came to me as necessary that I, who did that thinking, must be real. Thus observing that the truth: I think; therefore, I am, was so certain that no extravagance of the skeptics could ever shake it, I took it boldly for the first principle of the philosophy I was in search of … [Discourse on Method] a21) 21) Rembrandt, 1630, Self Portrait, bareheaded, Aerdenhout, Holland (video returns to a close detail of 20, 1629 Self Portrait, Munich) Rembrandt, 1628, Man in a Window-lighted Room, National Gallery, London; + V detail By an axiomatic leap the self Descartes discovers is not merely the doubter, dreamer, nightmarer (from whom little in the way of certainty could be deduced), but an eternal thinking substance, clear and sufficient assurance of God and causality, with its mathematical plotting of world, perception, and all, along equational abscissas of space and time: All points of those curves … which admit of precise measurement must bear some rapport to all points of a straight line, a relation which can be expressed by means of a single equation… If then we should take successively an infinite number of values for the line y, we should obtain an infinite number of values for the line x, and therefore an infinity of different points, such as C, by means of which the required curve could be drawn… 1/1993 Baroque Formulation 9 �C.G. Bell 22) 22a) V22b) 22c) Symbolic History Rubens, c. 1638(?), Sunset with Cattle, Louvre, Paris Ruisdael, 1660-70(?), Sunset in a Wood, Wallace Collection, London Claude Lorrain, 1660, Juno, Io, and Argus, National Gallery, Dublin (CGB '74) Rembrandt, 1643, Etching: The Three Trees, Rijksmuseum In ordered infinitude the landscape from this late Rubens through Claude, Rembrandt, and Ruisdael matches the science from Galileo to Huygens, Leibniz, and Newton. Descartes' System of the World must have been one of the proudest of these constructions. He burned it when Galileo was condemned; but a guarded summary appears in Book V of the Methode: I showed how the greatest part of the matter in the original chaos must, in accordance with natural laws, dispose and arrange itself in such a way as to present the appearance of heavens; how in the meantime some of its parts must compose an earth and some planets and comets and others a sun and fixed stars… I next came to speak of the earth and to show how … mountains, seas, fountains, and rivers might naturally be formed in it, the metals produced in the mines and plants grow in the fields; and in general, how … things purely material might, in the course of time, become such as we at present observe them … How far that looming space of thought takes us 23) Jan van Eyck, 1435, Landscape detail from Madonna with Chancellor Rolin, Louvre, Paris For V23a - a24) Video repeats 22c, Rembrandt's Three Trees 1st 24) Zurbaran, 1633(?), Cup and Three Vases, Prado, Madrid from the naive delight observation had opened for Jan van Eyck, through a sacred loggia beyond the Virgin and a donor's praying hands; or what giant intrepid will exchanged this magic kingdom for that weighty republic of cause? 1/1993 Baroque Formulation 10 �C.G. Bell Symbolic History Galileo best states the axiom of material validity which dignifies the new world, and which lifts the still life to an apotheosis of the actual — Spinoza's "Reality and Perfection … one and the same." 1st 25) Hugo van der Goes, 1476-78, Portinari Altar, detail of wheat and flowers, Uffizi, Florence (CGB '59) Sagredo, Galileo's priest of establishment, has expressed the old weightless geometry "where mere size cuts no figure." But it does not explain the physical, leaves it to Reason's antagonist, "the irrational imperfections of the material." For Va2nd 24) Zurbaran, detail of 24, Cup and two of the vases 2nd 24) Same, detail of the cup (to the left, with saucer) Salviati saves us by incorporating the mathematical logos in the motions and forces of things, converting bondage into glory. But he can only redeem the physical by its idealization: "Since I assume matter to be unchangeable and always the same." It is that incarnate axiom which haloes the tactility of a Zurburan goblet and bowl. 2nd 25) Memling, c. 1480, Chalice of St. John the Evangelist, National Gallery, Washington, D.C.; + V detail Where a 1480 Memling Chalice of St. John, as perfect in observation, abides in the mystery of symbol, the cup of that snake-fallen body Christ drank as Second Adam — the same snake Moses raised on the rod, to become the Rood. For 1st 26) Tintoretto, 1548, St. Mark rescues a Saracen, detail, Accademia, Venice (CGB '59) At the climax of the whirl which led from spaceless hovering to material formulation, Bruno, burned in 1600, as Inquisition sapped the terminal freedom of Venice, acclaims himself Hermetic seer of a God-irradiated universe, For 1st 27) Tintoretto, 1550-3, Creation of Animals, Accademia, Venice (CGB '59) daring as Tintoretto's charged effluvia of light: 1/1993 Baroque Formulation 11 �C.G. Bell Symbolic History Behold now, the man who has pierced the air and penetrated the sky … who has broken down those imaginary divisions between spheres … and thrown wide the doors of truth … stripping the veils and coverings from the face of nature… For 1st 28) Same: Expulsion detail of The Fall (CGB '59) All those creatures who may not gaze upon the lights of heaven, but are destined to dwell in the infernal circles of Pluto's dark prisonhouse, when they hear the dread summons of Alecton's furious horn, spread wide their wings and veer away in rapid flight toward their abodes. For 1st 29) Tintoretto, 1577, Moses Strikes the Rock, ceiling, Scuola San Rocco, Venice (CGB '48) But those who were born to see the sun, full of thanksgiving at the end of the loathsome night, dispose themselves to receive in the very center of their eyes' crystal globe the long expected rays, and with unaccustomed gladness in their hearts, lift up hands and voices to adore the East … For 2nd 28-27) Tintoretto, c. 1562, Removing St. Mark's Body from Alexandria, Accademia, Venice (CGB '59) [V2nd 28 only, since V2nd 27 shows a view of the Sala del Collegio, other than the CGB of 2nd 26, below.] Such the confidence of Vieta's algebra, 1591: "This Universal Mathematics enables us to attack the proud problem of problems … For there is no problem which cannot be solved.” In music that climax of late-Renaissance, everywhere exploring polychoral and instrumental masses, chromatics, even recitative — what Monteverdi would establish as conscious Baroque — attends Giovanni Gabrielli, Venetian teacher of 1600 Europe. With the old Harvard performance of his "In Ecclesiîs," our slides advance through Tintoretto to the final explosion of El Greco: MUSIC: 1/1993 Giovanni Gabrielli (pub. 1615), In Ecclesiîs, Cambridge CRS 201 (accompanied by all of the following slides) Baroque Formulation 12 �C.G. Bell 2nd 26) V2nd 26a) Va3rd 27) b3rd 27) 3rd 27) 3rd 28) Va2nd 29) Vb2nd 29) 2nd 29) For 1st 30) For 1st 31) V1st 31a) For 1st 32) 1st 32a) 1st 33) Symbolic History Venetian (da Ponte, Veronese, etc.), c. 1575, Sala del Collegio, Doge's Palace, Venice (CGB '48) Same, Sala dello Scrutinio, Ceiling, 1580 ff. (CGB '48) Tintoretto, 1566, The Finding of the Body of St. Mark From the same, detail: the Saint appears; Brera, Milan Tintoretto, 1588-89, Sleep of St. Mark ("Pax tibi Marce"), Accademia, Venice (CGB '59); + V detail: angel above Same, detail of the lighted figures below (CGB '59) Tintoretto, 1565, two pans from a crucifixion detail of the vast Scuolo di San Rocco canvas, Venice (CGB '59) Tintoretto, 1562-6, two pans from St. Mark Rescues a Saracen at Sea, Accademia, Venice (CGB '59, of the whole; CGB detail of an oarsman used above as 1st 26) Tintoretto, 1581-84, Venice Queen of the Sea, Sala del Senato, Doge's Palace, Venice (CGB '48); video: two details only Tintoretto, 1592-4, The Last Supper, Church of San Giorgio Maggiore, Venice El Greco, 1570-75, Annunciation, Prado, Madrid El Greco, 1579-84, Disrobing Christ, Munich (CGB '59) El Greco, 1610-14, Opening of the Fifth Seal, detail, upper half, Metropolitan Museum, New York City Same, detail, center right (CGB '74, from 1600, 2nd 3) El Greco, 1613-14, Betrothal of the Virgin, Museum Bucharest (preceded by a video detail of the upper half) (End Gabrielli) This Betrothal of the Virgin is one of El Greco's last pictures. Here humanity has been purged, as by Shakespeare's wheel of fire. 2nd 32 and 2nd 31) El Greco, 1608-14, View and Plan of Toledo, upper detail, Museo del Greco, Toledo But the tragic alchemy of 1600 was accompanied, in the Spain of El Greco's adoption, by an ultimate transcendence of the comic — Cervantes there writing the strangest and wisest book of the Western world. Like every ultimate, Don Quixote defies art-cognates; yet it is tied to the late Renaissance vast and mysterious expansion of the value world. 1/1993 Baroque Formulation 13 �C.G. Bell Symbolic History 2nd 30) Tintoretto, c. 1590(?), Crucifixion, Alte Pinakothek, Munich (CGB '59); + V detail, left Tintoretto's play of electric powers in a still symbolic space of dark portends the Don's descent into the Cave of Montesinos, with his other dream adventures: A vast lake of boiling pitch, in which an infinite multitude of fierce and terrible serpents are swimming, from which a doleful voice is heard: O Knight, who gazest on the dreadful Lake … make known thy valour by casting thyself into the midst of these black burning surges … or thou art not worthy to behold the wonder of the seven castles seated under these gloomy waves. 2nd 30a) Tintoretto, 1592-94, from the Last Supper, detail, upper left, Flambeau and Angels, San Giorgio Maggiore, Venice — wonders actualized in the masquerades of Part II: Now the night grew darker and darker, and several shooting lights were seen glancing up and down the wood, like meteors or glaring exhalations from the earth. Then was heard an horrid noise … 3rd 31) 3rd 32) 2nd 33) El Greco, 1584-86, Burial of Count Orgaz, detail of the dead body, Santo Tome, Toledo Same, wider detail of the Burial Group and Mourners Same, the whole: Burial below, Heaven-Arch above (Note: from these three slide-show images, plus six others in the video file — a3rd 31, 3rd 31a, 3rd 31b, 3rd 31c, 2nd 33a, and 2nd 33b — the video draws a sequence of twelve Orgaz visuals.) Staggering, the transcendence by which a ground of resigned dying sustains the vital fulfillment of Erasmus' High Folly, where Quixote's madness — to offer my arm and person against whatever danger fate presents … in this Age of Iron to restore the Age of Gold en esta nuestra edad de hierro para resucitar en ella la del oro … becomes, for all its uncertainty ("subject to the discipline of blows, hunger and thirst … rags, want, and misery," and "I do not know what success I may have in this depraved 1/1993 Baroque Formulation 14 �C.G. Bell Symbolic History time"), the soul's calling: "the religious soldier to be preferred before the religious monk"; so killing sheep as if they were armies, Quixote's grinders knocked out by the slung stone, Sancho peering in when the Balm of Fierabras brings up the knight's gorge and drowns them both in vomit, are raised to the loveable courage of the adventure of the Lions — humanity past fiction, spirit above sainthood. Yet, as in El Greco's Burial of Count Orgaz, nobility is swirled in another judgment, so in Quixote the imperative of self-dedication breaks to a death-humbling — the very sky-aspiring transvalued by return to the common ground of Christian (and tragic) faith. Such human grandeur under dissolution of form peaks the Renaissance watershed to the great Baroque. 34) V34b) 34c) Veronese, 1573, Feast in the House of Levi, Accademia, Venice; + V detail (made from slide V34a) Veronese, 1562-64, Wedding at Cana, detail of center: musicians, Louvre, Paris Same, Wedding at Cana, detail to the left Conceive the expansive opulence of late Titian, Tintoretto, this Veronese, caught up in the action, description, language of Don Quixote, most of all when Part II swells incalculably beyond Part I — Camacho's feast a mere sign: The first thing that blessed Sancho's sight there was a whole steer spitted before a fire that seemed a flaming mountain; round it six capacious pots or ample coppers, in which entire sheep seethed as conveniently as pigeons … 35) 36) V36a) 1/1993 Rubens, 1636-38, The Great Kermess, whole, Louvre, Paris (video draws two details from this slide: right and left above) And for drink Sancho told above threescore great skins of wine … The scent of the fried meat put him in such a commotion he could hold out no longer, but accosting one of the cooks, he begged leave to sop a luncheon of bread in one of the pans … "Take a ladle, man, and skim out a pullet or two." … "I see no ladle, sir," said Sancho. "Blood and suet," cried the cook, "what a helpless fellow …" Same, detail to the left; video: left-below (cf. CGB '80: V35-36) Again, Veronese, Wedding at Cana, detail of far right (video here repeats 35, The Great Kermess, whole) Baroque Formulation 15 �C.G. Bell 36b) Symbolic History Again, The Great Kermess, detail of dancing figures He soused into a pot with a kettle, fishing up three hens and a couple of geese at a heave: "Here, friend, take this, and make shift to stay your stomach with this scum until the time to eat …" — conceive that abundance (called Mannerism, but to what a manor born) never again to be paralleled in wealth of imagination, spilling over into the coagulations of Rubens' Kermess; but the whole humorous outpouring 37) El Greco, c. 1600, Portrait of a Bearded Man, Prado, Madrid as if taking place in Inquisition and Colonial Spain, and through the dream-gate of El Greco's dynamic idealism — in that image we almost feel the fitness of Cervantes, stretched from the Venetians, through El Greco, 38) V38a) Rubens, 1603, Duke of Lerma, sketch, Louvre, Paris; + v detail El Greco, 1603-07, Adoration of the Shepherds, detail, Prado, Madrid toward the youthful proud consciousness of Rubens. And it was in the chivalric and ecstatic Spain of 1603 that the painter-diplomat sketched this armed and mounted Duke of Lerma — one of those nobles who by Cervantes' supreme invention of his fiction's coming to life as read, might have entertained the actual Knight of the Woeful Figure. Though Lerma and Rubens seem of the new age, across the formulating divide, where Don Quixote, like English Shakespeare, had clung to the dream transitions of the Platonic past. 39) Carlo Maderno, 1607-14, Façade of St. Peter's, Rome Rubens was traveling from Rome, center of the histrionic concretion of Baroque: the 1612 façade of St. Peter's, which like all conscious gestures may protest too much. MUSIC: 40) 1/1993 Anerio, c. 1600(?), from Introit, Requiem Mass, G-DB 1572 ("et tibi") Bernini, 1624-33, Baldachin, looking up to Michelangelo's 1546-64 Dome, St. Peter's, Rome (Video inserts upper part of 2nd 40, Baldachin and Choir, and from slide 41, detail of a Baldachin bronze angel, Bernini, 1624-33) Baroque Formulation 16 �C.G. Bell Symbolic History But in the complementarity between the Baroque force of Bernini's Baldachin and the solemn Renaissance of Michelangelo's dome — which was the Sistine Choir invoking, 50 years ago, when they stretched the motets of Palestrina and his school, here Anerio? (Fade Anerio.) 2nd 39) Again, St. Peter's Façade: a Papal Blessing (CGB '48) Surely the forging of Baroque (as of Cartesian thought, or of tonality from the church modes) must reduce, under billowing might, complexities of nuance. So Benevoli's 53-part Festive Mass of 1628, for six contrasting choirs with instruments and basso continuo — against the dynamic weft of Gabrielli — heaps up merely harmonic voices in columnar masses of sound. MUSIC: Benevoli, 1628, Mass for Saltzburg Cathedral, from the Qui tollis, Epic LC-3035 2nd 40) Again, Bernini's Baldachin: from the Nave, to the Choir 41) Slide: Bernini, 1624-33, Bronze angel from the Baldachin. Video: detail of 1st 40: Column of Baldachin, looking up to Dome; and just before it, a detail of V1st 40, variant of the same (CGB '86) 42) Pietro da Cortona, 1633-39, Glorification of Urban VIII, whole ceiling, Barberini Palace, Rome; (CGb '86) + V detail 42a) (Fade Benevoli.) Same, closer detail, with Barberini heraldic bees (CGB '86) In painting, the deployment of Renaissance techniques for cumulous assertion crowns the stair hall of the Barberini Palace with Pietro da Cortona's praise of its Urban VIII — flattery not the least conspicuous brilliance of the Baroque. Cortona's model a43 and Vb43) From Correggio, 1526-30, Assumption of the Virgin, angel details, Cathedral, Parma 43) Same, detail, including the Virgin (video divides into two details.) 1/1993 Baroque Formulation 17 �C.G. Bell Symbolic History was Correggio. But the Correggio ceiling breathes the fresh discovery of 1530. So the polyphonic swirls from Fevin and Gombert to Victoria's "O Magnum Mysterium" etherealize the pomp they mediate. MUSIC: Victoria, pub. 1572, from O Magnum Mysterium (Allelluya), HMV-L1017 (Close) What of Palestrina? 44) Raphael, 1513-14, Sistine Madonna, Gallery, Dresden Is his tie to the Sistine perfection of Raphael, from eleven years before he was born? 45) Titian, 1516-18, Assumption of the Virgin, I Frari, Venice Or does his taking up the rhetoric of the century, from Titian's 1518 Assumption, 46) El Greco, 1577, Assumption (with frame), Art Institute, Chicago to the always more swelling ascents of his own time (Baroccio, this 1577 El Greco), anticipate the Baroque? For 1st 47) Guido Reni, 1616-17, Assumption of the Virgin, Vatican (In slide show, this goes to 2nd 47; 1st 47 becomes Guido Reni, c. 1607, Coronation of the Virgin, National Gallery, London) Yet not even these have the conscious mass and assertion, which first appear after Palestrina's death, as in Guido Reni. For 2nd 46) Choir of I Frari, 1330-1417, with Titian's Assumption of the Virgin Altarpiece, Venice (in slide show, also 2nd 45) With such proclamation altars, spread over a hundred years, V for 2nd 45) Baroccio, Night Nativity, Ambrosiana, Milan we seek the affinities of the Sanctus of Palestrina's most famous mass, mythically associated with the Council of Trent and the vindication of polyphony. 1/1993 Baroque Formulation 18 �C.G. Bell Symbolic History 2nd 44) Again, Raphael, Sistine Madonna; video: two details only MUSIC: 3rd 45) V3rd 45a) Palestrina, by 1555, Sanctus, Missa Papae Marcelli, ARC-3182 Again, Titian, Assumption; video: center of picture Correggio, 1523-28, Madonna called "Il Giorno," detail, Galleria, Parma Correggio, 1530, Nativity called "La Notte," detail, Gallery, Dresden Again, Baroccio, Night Nativity, detail of V for 2nd 45 Again, El Greco's Assumption of the Virgin (from nearer) Detail of Reni's Coronation of the Virgin (slide: 1st 47) Reni's Assumption of the Virgin [cf. V1st 47] (video shows two details) Michelangelo and others, 16th cent., St. Peter's from the Janicula (south side), Rome (CGB '86) Michelangelo, 16th cent., Dome-vaultings, St. Peter's, Rome V3rd 45b) Va3rd 46) 3rd 46) Va2nd 47) 2nd 47) 1st 48) V48a) (Close Palestrina Sanctus) For 3rd 47) Guido Reni, c. 1627, Immaculate Conception, Metropolitan Museum, NYC (CGB '74); video: detail only That hosanna, even in formal triumph, less suggests Guido Reni's Miltonics — So maist thou be translated to the skies, And give resounding grace to all Heav'ns Harmonies — Va2nd 48) Vignola and della Porta, 1568-84, Façade of Il Gesu, Rome (CGB '86) 2nd 48) Same, interior (variant views for video and slide show) than the Counter-Reformation solemnity Michelangelo passed to Vignola and della Porta. The barrel vaults and dome of Il Gesù, reared 1568-84, in the lifetime of Palestrina, draw late-Renaissance to a gravitating center of the Baroque, and a shrine of its 17th century art — 1st 49) Palladio, c. 1550, Villa Rotonda, Vicenza, Italy, (CGB '59) 1/1993 Baroque Formulation 19 �C.G. Bell Symbolic History models of the future fulfilling the style of the past. So with Palladio's mid-century villas or Tasso's heroic Conquest of Jerusalem: Floods clap their hands, on mountaines dance the pines, And Sions towres and sacred temples smile, For their deliv'rance from that bondage vile. (Fairfax) 1st 50) Palladio and Veronese, 1561-62, Villa Barbaro (called Maser), Fresco, Lady and Nurse, as on a Balcony, Northern Italy So too with Veronese's 1561 decoration of Palladio's Villa Maser. Later Baroque imitation cannot obscure the free dynamic of its Venetian Renaissance. 1st 51) Raphael, 1511, Galatea, Farnesina, Rome; video: detail only MUSIC: Seb. Festa, pub. 1526, Se'l pensier, close, Nonesuch H-71097 Set the pagan recovery of Raphael, with the Frottole emergence of the Festas, 1st 52) Pietro da Cortona, 1637, The Age of Gold, Pal. Pitti, Florence V1st 52) Fresco with frame (CGB '48); + V details (52 & V52 are used alternately here and below, for video and digital) MUSIC: Monteverdi, 1632, Zeffiro torna, opening, Boulanger, VM-496 (or LP) against Pietro da Cortona's Age of Gold, more than a century later. The history of the madrigal is encompassed between them, from clear dawn, to the proclaimed wreathing of earth-moods, as Monteverdi turns the form to operatic duet and chaconne. (Fade Zeffiro.) 2nd 51 and for 2nd 50 slide) Again, Raphael, Galatea, whole Yet the 1590 madrigals from Monteverdi's inspired youth — this to the words of Tasso, "Ecco mormorar l'onde," and in the always unsurpassed Boulanger performance, recall the pure ease of high Renaissance. V for 2nd 50) Again, a detail of V1st 52: Cortona, The Age of Gold 1/1993 Baroque Formulation 20 �C.G. Bell Symbolic History With which style, which century, do they compare? Va2nd 49) Palladio, c. 1558, Villa Foscari, called "Malcontenta," Italy 2nd 49) Palladio, c. 1550, Villa Rotonda, down entrance lane (CGB ‘59); video also repeats, from 1st 49, that view of the Rotonda (CGB '59) MUSIC: 3rd 50) V3rd 50a) V3rd 50b) 3rd 51) 2nd 52) 53) 54) Monteverdi, pub. 1590, Ecco mormorar l'onde, MV-496, or Ser. 60125 Veronese, 1561-62, Salon, a frescoed corner, Villa Maser, Asolo Same, Maser, frescoes, Sala di Bacco, landscape detail Same, fresco from a side room, Hunter at a door Again, Raphael, Galatea, detail (video: above and below) Again, Cortona, Age of Gold, detail (video takes two details, above and below from V1st 52) Domenichino, c. 1610(?), The Chase of Diana, detail of the hunt, Borghese Gallery, Rome Same, foreground detail of bathing nymphs (CGB '48) (Close Ecco mormorar l'onde) For 2nd 53-54) Again, Domenichino, Diana's Hunt, whole; + V detail: bathing nymphs If Palestrina looked back, Monteverdi's sequence over a descending bass swells toward Domenichino's heightened Baroque: Diana's nymphs of the chase, and of the pool. 55) V55a) Tintoretto, 1578, Ariadne, Bacchus and Venus, Anticollegio, Doge's Palace, Venice Titian, 1556-59, Diana and Acteon, National Gallery of Scotland, Edinburgh We have said no element defines a style. The change in music might seem to be from free polyphony to the harmonic binding of figured bass. When the inwrought play of Tintoretto's 1578 Ariadne, rich as the Tasso that flowed into Spenser's Bower of Bliss: Two naked Damzelles (in the fount he spied) … As that faire Starre, the messenger of morne, 1/1993 Baroque Formulation 21 �C.G. Bell Symbolic History His deawy face out of the sea doth reare: Or as the Cyprian goddesse, newly borne Of th' Oceans fruitful froth, did first appeare: Such seemed they… — Va56) 56) Caravaggio, c. 1600, Amor Victorious, detail, Staatliche Museen, Berlin Caravaggio, c. 1596, Lute Player, Hermitage, St. Petersburg shifts to Caravaggio's light-centered seduction of touch, is it like the tightening into recitative? And does Ben Jonson's ripest lyric parallel that conscious moulding? Slow, slow fresh fount, keep time with my salt teares; Yet slower yet, O faintly, gentle springs; List to the heavy part the musick beares, Woe weeps out her division, when she sings… Where the debt to Tasso is already through the baroque of Marini. Va2nd 55) 2nd 55) MUSIC: Titian, 1560, Diana and Callisto, Kunsthist. Mus., Vienna (CGB ‘59) Again, Tintoretto, Ariadne, Bacchus and Venus, detail Luzzaschi, c. 1580(?) (pub. 1601), O Dolcezze, SAWT-9466-B But what do we mean by a shift from the polyphonic? There had been lute songs throughout the Renaissance. The accompanied madrigals of Luzzaschi, performed at Ferrara in the '70s and '80s, push toward the Dowland style-verge of the century to follow. (Fade Luzzaschi.) Va2nd 56) Caravaggio, 1591, Sick Bacchus, detail, Borghese Gallery, Rome Vb2nd 56) Caravaggio, 1591-94 (?), Musicians, detail, Met. Mus., New York City 2nd 56) Again, Caravaggio, The Lute Player, detail, Hermitage Yet the Florentine continuo experiments of 1600 had still to forge a reductive concentration, stretched on the rack of heroic recitative. Caccini: MUSIC: Caccini, pub. 1601, Amarilli (close) MIA 1 (End) Peri: MUSIC: 1/1993 Peri performed 1601, Gioite al canto mio, (refrain) from Euridice, MIA 1 (Fade.) Baroque Formulation 22 �C.G. Bell Symbolic History Like everything in the Baroque, Caravaggio's shadowing Va57) 57) Leonardo da Vinci, 1503-06, Madonna of the Rocks, detail to the right, with the Angel, National Gallery, London Same, Madonna of the Rocks, detail of the Angel's head has Renaissance parentage. But how far the inner-glow of Leonardo's twilight is from Caravaggio's logic of the physical. As far as Caccini from his lute-song origins — Cara: MUSIC: a58) b58) Vc58) Vd58) 58) M. Cara, c. 1500, from S'io siedo a l'ombra, Candide CE-31017 (Fade) Double: [A] El Greco, 1603-05, Madonna, detail, Hospital de la Caridad, Illescas; and [B] Caravaggio, 1605, Madonna of the Serpent, detail, Borghese Gallery, Rome Double: [A] El Greco, 1608-14, Angels from Baptism, Hospital de S. Juan, Toledo; and [B] Procaccini, c. 1610, Magdalen, Brera, Milan El Greco, 1608-14, Assumption over Toledo, detail, El Greco Museum, Toledo El Greco, 1603-05, Coronation of the Virgin, detail, Hospital de la Caridad, Illescas El Greco, 1608-14, Baptism of Christ, detail of Angels, Hospital de San Juan Bautista, Toledo (cf. [A] of a58) Even with the chromatics of 1600, as revolutionary as El Greco's astigmatism or Caravaggio's chiaroscuro, it is not half-tone progression which differentiates (any more than it was monodic song), but rather the formal method of its handling — how changed from late Mannerist to Baroque (both about 1610) — from Gesualdo, with El Greco — MUSIC: Gesualdo da Venosa, 1600-10(?), Ora pro nobis close of Ave, dulcissima Maria, (Deller), VICS 1364 (End) from that frenzy of spirit, 59) V59a) 1/1993 Procaccini, c. 1610(?), Magdalen, Brera, Milan; video: detail only Gentilleschi, c. 1610, Saint Cecilia and the Angel, National Gallery, Washington, DC (CGB '75) Baroque Formulation 23 �C.G. Bell V59b) Symbolic History Guercino, c. 1620-25, Angels Weeping over Christ, detail, National Gallery, London (detail of duplicate from Mozart 51) to the swooning flesh of Procaccini, with a phrase from Viadana, also to "dulcissima Maria": MUSIC: L.G. Viadana, pub. 1615, O dulcissima Maria, opening, ARC 3217 (Fade) As that Italy radiates to the North, 1st 60) Elsheimer, c. 1598-1600, Baptism of Christ, National Gallery, London (Video uses whole, then detail, of angels above; slide show, for 1st 60, substitutes Elsheimer, c. 1599, Rest on the Flight, Berlin-Dahlem Museum — a detail of which becomes V60a.) or northerners are drawn to the peninsula, artists like Elsheimer create transitional Baroque from Gothic line and Renaissance ideal. So Kepler's Epitome of Astronomy blends mathematical induction with speculative overreach … If Earth was to move like a planet, what was required (against Aristotle's ethereal bodies perfecting their circles by angelic intelligence) was a physics of the heavenly built on the inertia of earthly mass. Such an earth-physics would first be published by Galileo in 1638. By that time, Kepler had based his astronomy on God-given wheels, invoking Gilbert's magnetism only to squeeze them to the ellipses his calculations had revealed. For 1st 61) Rubens, c. 1610(?), Annunciation, Dublin Gallery (CGB '74) (Video adds the original 61, now 2nd 61 in the slide-show: Rubens 1609-10, Annunciation, Kunsthist. Mus., Vienna (CGB '59) A wild Rubens blend of the ideal and empirical, Kepler staggeringly reckoned from Brahe's observations the three enduring laws, meanwhile juggling the ratios, roots, and powers of planetary size, mass, intercept, motor virtue (of which he could know nothing) trying to bring the orbits and archetypal reason into line: "stamped with the adornment of harmonic proportions." 1/1993 Baroque Formulation 24 �C.G. Bell Symbolic History In music, Praetorius effects such a vast synthesis of Gothic and Venetian, polyphony and recitative. We take a phrase from his setting of Luther's "Vom Himmel hoch": 2nd 60) Slide show has the original 60: Elsheimer, Baptism, from which the video makes a closer detail of the angels above MUSIC: M. Praetorius, pub. 1619, from the Polychoral Vom Himmel hoch, Nonesuch H 71242 2nd 61) Rubens, 1608-09, Annunciation, Vienna, (CGB '59); video: detail only 62) Same, Rubens, Annunciation, detail of Angel (CGB '59) (Close "sagen will") Rubens rapt angel of 1609 marks the divide to inertial mass. 63) V63a) 63b) El Greco, 1570-75, Boy Lighting a Candle, Capodimonte Museum, Naples Same, detail El Greco, 1612-14, Adoration of the Shepherds, detail: Head of a shepherd, Prado, Madrid (closer detail of V38a) Up to that point, the material search itself had swirled with trans-reality: — El Greco's 1570 boy lighting a candle, the night climax of Bruno's Candelaio, or even the porter in Macbeth: If a man were porter of hell-gate, he should have old turning the key. Knock, knock, knock. Who's there in the name of Beelzebub… Drink, sir, is a great provoker of three things … Marry, sir, nose-painting, sleep, and urine … So Bruno's compatriot, Nola, choir-master at Naples, limns three blind beggars singing for alms: MUSIC: 64) V64a) 1/1993 Giov. Domenico da Nola, c. 1560(?), Tre Ciechi siamo, close, Everest 3179 Caravaggio, c. 1594, The Fortune Teller, Louvre, Paris Same, detail of hands Baroque Formulation 25 �C.G. Bell V64b) 64c) 64d) Symbolic History Le Valentin, 1620(?), The Cheat, Dresden Gallery, detail (first videod backward: revised ‘94 — preceded by 64c below, + V detail — and followed by 64d) Caravaggio, 1594-95, Cardsharps, Kimbell Museum, Fort Worth Georges de la Tour, The Cheat, Kimbell Museum, Fort Worth By the turn of the century, Caravaggio has put such realism on the shore where Ben Jonson's Fox and Alchemist make it lawful prey — Volpone's clever Mosca to the doddering deaf Corbaccio: Mosca: Corb: M: C: M: C: M: C: Volp: M: C: M: C: M: C: 65) Georges de la Tour, c. 1620(?), Fortune Teller, Met. Museum, New York City (The slide of the whole, CGB '79, with details, four in the slide show, two more in the video file, provide nine video images, varying the a65, b65, 65, 65a and 65b order of the slide show.) M: C: 1/1993 You're very welcome, sir. How does your patron? Troth, as he did, sir; no amends. What! mends he? No sir, he is rather worse. That's well. Where is he? Upon his couch, sir, newly fall'n asleep. … I have brought him an opiate here, from mine own doctor, 'tis but to make him sleep. [Playing sick] Ay, his last sleep, if he would take it. He has no faith in physic … I often have Heard him protest that your physician Should never be his heir. — Not I his heir? Not your physician, sir. — O no, no, no. I do not mean it … How does his apoplex? Is that strong on him still? — Most violent. His speech is broken and his eyes are set, His face drawn longer than 'twas wont. — How? how? Stronger than he was wont? Drawn longer than 'twas wont. Baroque Formulation — No sir; his face — O, good! 26 �C.G. Bell Symbolic History M: C: M: C: MUSIC: Is ever gaping, and his eyelids hang. — His mouth — Good. A freezing numbness stiffens all his joints And makes the colour of his flesh like lead … Good symptoms still … sure I shall outlast him! Orl. Gibbons, Fantasy on the Street Cries, "New Mussels," ARC-3053 Marvellous, the comic vigor, as that delight in the actual and its castigation strikes root in the North: Fantasies on Street Cries, Weelkes, Deering, this Gibbons; the overflow of the Jacobean stage up to the Puritan closure: A Chaste Maid in Cheapside, A trick to Catch the Old One, the boiling Kermess of Jonson's Bartholomew Fair (1615) — though with vignettes as sharply focussed as this La Tour Fortune Teller, locket cutter, Gypsy thieves. "I would fain see that cutpurse you talk of," says Jonson's silly Cokes in the play; while Nightingale the Ballad Singer draws the crowd — Trash ("Will your worship buy any gingerbread"), Leatherhead the toy-man, fat Ursula, Mooncalf, and all — so that Edgworth, his accomplice, can pluck the dandy clean. As in the picture: "A man might cut out his kidneys and he never feel 'em." (Fade Gibbons.) 66) El Greco, c. 1610-14, View and Plan of Toledo, detail, Greco Museum, Toledo (Video begins with Va66, a wider detail) Again the 1610 transition: from El Greco's giddy perspectives, or in Shakespeare, "the dread summit of the chalky bourn" imagined from the flat stage of Lear: Gloucester: There is a cliff whose high and bending head Looks fearfully in the confined deep; Bring me but to the very brim of it … Edgar How fearful And dizzy 'tis, to cast one's eyes so low … I'll look no more Lest my brain turn, and the deficient sight Topple down headlong … 67) 1/1993 François de Nome, called "Monsu Desiderio," 1623, Ruins with St. Augustine legend, Private Collection, London Baroque Formulation 27 �C.G. Bell Symbolic History — through the visions of the so-called Monsu (eddies of nightmare formed under the jets of Baroque reality; yet reality takes the lead) 68) V68a) Rubens, 1618-20, Landscape: Ruins of the Palatine, Louvre Poussin, c. 1629-30, Narcissus and Echo, Louvre; + V detail — to Rubens' ruins of the Palatine. So Webster's Duchess congeals the electric malice of Lear to a brooding earth-presence — summoning the echo with which Monteverdi had answered Orfeo's "ahi, pianto" and "guai." MUSIC: Monteverdi, 1607, from Orfeo, Act V, two echoes, ARC 3036 (Fade.) For 2nd 67) Variant, Monsu, Ruins, National Gallery, London; + V detail Webster: — 2nd 68) Yond's the cardinal's window. This fortification Grew from the ruins of an ancient abbey; And to yond side o' the river lies a wall, Piece of a cloister, which in my opinion Gives the best echo that you ever heard, So hollow and so dismal, and withal So plain in the distinction of our words, That many have supposed it is a spirit That answers. Detail of Rubens, Palatine; + closer V detail — I do love these ancient ruins. We never tread upon them but we set Our foot upon some reverend history: … but all things have their end: Churches and cities, which have diseases like to men, Must have like death that we have. — "Like death that we have." — Now the echo hath caught you. — It groaned, methought, and gave 1/1993 Baroque Formulation 28 �C.G. Bell Symbolic History A very deadly accent. 1st 69) Caravaggio, 1607-08, Beheading of St. John the Baptist, whole, Cathedral, Valletta, Malta V69a) Same, detail to the right, men behind bars — "Deadly accent." — I told you, 'twas a pretty one: you may make it A huntsman, or a falconer, a musician, Or a thing of sorrow. — "A thing of sorrow." — Ay, sure, that suits it best. — "That suits it best." Va70 Left of same picture: video details, above and below 70) Same, detail of the face of the old woman — 'Tis very like my wife's voice. — "Ay, wife's voice." — … I would not have you go to the cardinal's tonight: Do not. — "Do not." … — Echo, I will not talk with thee, For thou art a dead thing. — "Thou art a dead thing." — My duchess is asleep now, And her little ones, I hope sweetly: O Heaven, Shall I never see her more? — "Never see her more." — I marked not one repetition of the echo But that; and on the sudden a clear light Presented me a face folded in sorrow … 1/1993 Baroque Formulation 29 �C.G. Bell Symbolic History This Caravaggio face 2nd 69 and 2nd 70) Same: Beheading group (of which video shows also a detail); while V for 2nd 70 returns to the whole picture (from 1st 69) is from his 1608 Beheading of John, where the villainy which had fascinated the Renaissance assumes the weight of body. So the tragedy of revenge, from Kyd — "O life! no life, but lively form of death" — to Webster — "My soul, like to a ship in a black storm,/ Is driven, I know not whither." Let the content and structure of the sonnet attest that upheaval of values: 71) 71a) Parmagianino, 1535-37, Portrait called Antea, Capodimonte Museum, Naples Same, upper detail; + V: two more details Nothing was ever simple, but one pole of Mannerism was the balance treasured from Renaissance, the fitting of matter to form, perfect in this Parmagianino as in Surrey, Spenser, early Shakespeare — the end-stopped claspings of sonnet rhyme: Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate: Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, And summer's lease hath all too short a date: Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines, And often is his gold complexion dimm'd; And every fair from fair sometime declines, By chance, or nature's changing course untrimm'd; But thy eternal summer shall not fade, Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st, Nor shall death brag thou wander'st in his shade, When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st; So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see, So long lives this, and this gives life to thee. 72) 72a) 72b) 72c) 1/1993 Beccafumi, c. 1524, Fall of the Rebel Angels, Pinacoteca, Siena Same, detail below Same, middle detail (video makes two: right and left) Same, upper detail (digital then repeats the whole) Baroque Formulation 30 �C.G. Bell Symbolic History The other Manneristic pole is the outbreak of wild alchemical force, Beccafumi's 1524 Fall of the Rebel Angels, Renaissance-Gothic aimed through El Greco at Blake. While Shakespeare's crisis wrenches the syntax of the sonnet almost to the sprung stress of Hopkins: The expense of spirit in a waste of shame Is lust in action; and till action, lust Is perjured, murderous, bloody, full of blame, Savage, extreme, rude, cruel, not to trust; Enjoy'd no sooner, but despised straight; Past reason hunted; and no sooner had, Past reason hated, as a swallow'd bait, On purpose laid to make the taker mad: Mad in pursuit, and in possession so; Had, having, and in quest to have, extreme; A bliss in proof, and prov'd, a very woe; Before, a joy propos'd; behind, a dream. All this the world well knows, yet none knows well To shun the heaven that leads men to this hell. 1st 73) Rubens, c. 1620, Small Last Judgment, Alte Pinakothek, Munich (CGB '59; of which the slide show uses a middle detail) In Rubens, the fire-frenzy conglomerates, a saturation point, as earthly engrossment heightens the violence of salvation. Va2nd 72) Michelangelo, 1536-41, Last Judgment, struggling figures from the lower right, Sistine Chapel, Vatican For 2nd 72) Same, Saved souls; video: detail only Michelangelo had felt it: "Rend the veil, break down the wall" — Squarcia'l vel tu Signior, rompi quel muro"; even Ariosto had toyed with the fallen need of force: 2nd 73) 1/1993 To render pity to hearts penitent Is ours below, to draw them up with love, Maugre their own will, is God's, above. (CGB) Again, Rubens, Small Last Judgment (CGB '59); slide show now presents it whole, video in three spreads: upper, middle, and below Baroque Formulation 31 �C.G. Bell Symbolic History Now as world-nature thickens toward Descartes, the impossible stretch for a God whelmed in bulk — "As though heav'n suffered earthquakes, peace or war" (Donne) — curdles in Judgment paradox: At the round earths imagin'd corners, blow Your trumpets, Angells, and arise, arise From death, you numberlesse infinities Of soules, and to your scattred bodies goe; All whom the flood did, and fire shall o'erthrow, All whom warre, dearth, age, agues, tyrannies, Despaire, law, chance, hath slaine … (conscious rhetoric, buckling the pentameter) 74) 74a) Rubens (or copy), 1619-1620, Crucifixion sketch (for the Church of the Recollets, Antwerp), Aachen Gallery (CGB '74); + three video details Procaccini, 1618-20, Raising of the Cross, National Gallery of Scotland, Edinburgh (video: detail only) As at the forge of Rubens, Donne violates the sonnet for a salvation conceived as rape: Batter my heart, three person'd God; for, you As yet but knocke, breathe, shine, and seeke to mend; That I may rise, and stand, o'erthrow mee, 'and bend Your force, to breake, blowe, burn and make me new. I, like an usurpt towne, to 'another due, Labour to 'admit you, but Oh, to no end, Reason, your viceroy in mee, mee should defend, But is captiv'd, and proves weake or untrue, Yet dearely 'I love you, 'and would be loved faine, But am betroth'd unto your enemie, Divorce mee, 'untie, or breake that knot againe, Take mee to you, imprison mee, for I Except you 'enthrall mee, never shall be free, Nor ever chast, except you ravish mee. 1st 75) Rembrandt, c. 1660, Self-portrait with palette, Kenwood House, London; video: large detail and face detail only 75a) Rembrandt, 1661, Homer Dictating, Mauritshuis, The Hague; + v detail 1/1993 Baroque Formulation 32 �C.G. Bell Symbolic History MUSIC: Mathew Locke, c. 1665, Fantasy 5, G Minor, chromatic opening, Westminster WGS 8242 By mid-century the chromatic, in Mathew Locke, moves under brooding control. While with blind Milton the sonnet has passed its crisis; Renaissance articulation convolves into the vaulted reach of consciousness: (Skip to chromatic rise.) When I consider how my light is spent, E're half my days in this dark world and wide, And that one talent which is death to hide, Lodg'd with me useless, though my soul more bent To serve therewith my Maker, and present My true account, lest he returning chide; Doth God exact day-labour, light deny'd I fondly ask. But patience to prevent That murmur, soon replies, 1st 76) Rembrandt, c. 1656, The Artist's Son Titus reading, Kunsthistorisches Museum, Vienna (CGB '59); video: detail only God doth not need Either man's work or his own gifts; who best Bear his milde yoak, they serve him best, his state Is kingly. Thousands at his bidding speed And post o're land and ocean without rest: They also serve who only stand and waite. (Fade Locke.) V2nd 75) Again, 1660, Self-portrait with palette (here, whole, from 1st 75) 2nd 75a) Rembrandt, 1669, detail of the last Self-portrait, Mauritshuis, The Hague — as darkened as Rembrandt, neglected in gathering age; yet as deeply sure of self, ordered earth, and causal God — Descartes' lonely doubter, who closes his meditations: "qu'il y a un Dieu … et qu'il n'est point trompeur" — And I ought not to doubt the truth of these presentations … for since God is no deceiver, it follows necessarily that I am not herein deceived … Under the great assertive thrust 1/1993 Baroque Formulation 33 �C.G. Bell Symbolic History 2nd 76) Again, Titus reading, a closer detail by which the faith postulates have moved into time, making their peace with thinking self and causal world, an entire realm of human and earthly good is as quietly assured as the lights on Rembrandt's Titus, reading. 1st 77) Elsheimer, c. 1609(?), Tobias and Raphael, National Gallery, London Perhaps Elsheimer, in Caravaggio's Rome, first took the glow of that transcendental paradise, where Tobias is guided by the angel — a promise Gibbons harmonizes in a 1623 Song of the Church: "Oh, my love, how comely now": MUSIC: O. Gibbons, 1629, Oh, My Love (a phrase) ARC-3053 a78) Elsheimer, c. 1610(?), Two Childhood Guardians (from a set of six), Petworth House; with V details 1st 78) Poelenburg, c. 1620(?) (after Elsheimer), the same Guardian Saints, Pitti, Florence (CGB '48) How humbly Poelenburg takes it up — twin guardians of natural childhood, angel and saint. While Herbert, from his rural parish, sounds the quietest benediction. V2nd 77) Two video details from slide 77: Elsheimer, Tobias and Raphael V2nd 78) Poelenburg, two other Guardian Saints from the Pitti set of six (these, CGB '86); + V detail ; digital, double only; after Domenichino (While the slide show, for 2nd 77 and 2nd 78, uses Domenichino, c. 1612, Tobias Landscape, National Gallery, London; see Va1st 80, below) Sweet day, so cool, so calm, so bright, The bridal of the earth and sky; The dew shall weep thy fall to-night For thou must die. Sweet rose, whose hue angry and brave Bids the rash gazer wipe his eye; Thy root is ever in its grave, And thou must die. Sweet spring, full of sweet days and roses, A box where sweets compacted lie; 1/1993 Baroque Formulation 34 �C.G. Bell Symbolic History My music shows ye have your closes, And all must die. Only a sweet and virtuous soul, Like a seasoned timber, never gives; But though the whole world turn to coal, Then chiefly lives. 79) Bernini, 1657-66, Cathedra Petri or High Altar, St. Peter's, Rome (video: lower detail only) The Baroque arose out of Renaissance and humanism. However the grand manner vaunt the inflations of creed and court, its chordal and spatial loyalties were to the temporal good. Beyond the mammoth holies Bernini applied to St. Peter's, lay the Rome Va1st 80) Domenichino, c. 1612, Tobias Landscape, National Gallery, London (detail of slide 2nd 77-78, above) For 1st 80) Claude Lorrain, 1631, Flight to Egypt, Belvoir Castle, Leics. (better the whole of 2nd 80) where the landscape of recovery spread from Elsheimer and Carracci to Domenichino, Poelenburg, this early Claude. So the fortissimo of Monteverdi's Exultent caeli cradles his tenderest "O Maria," in an epiphany of power and heart. a2nd 79) Again, Bernini, Cathedra Petri, upper detail, St. Peter's, Rome; video uses the top of 1st 79 2nd 79) Same, Cathedra Petri, detail of the Dove window and Angel Glory; video details the center of this slide MUSIC: 2nd 80) Monteverdi, 1629, from Exultent Caeli, Decca SDD 363 Claude Lorrain, c. 1631, Rest on the Flight, Clark Institute, Williamstown, Massachusetts; video and digital detail (with "O Maria" — fade.) 1/1993 Baroque Formulation 35 � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Charles G. Bell's Symbolic History: Through Sight and Sound Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource St. John's College Meem Library Description An account of the resource Scripts of Mr. Charles G. Bell's Symbolic History series. Text A resource consisting primarily of words for reading. Examples include books, letters, dissertations, poems, newspapers, articles, archives of mailing lists. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre Text. Original Format The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data paper Page numeration Number of pages in the original item. 36 pages Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Baroque Formulation, Symbolic History, Part 20 Description An account of the resource Script of Part 20 of the Symbolic History series by Charles G. Bell. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Bell, Charles G. (Charles Greenleaf), 1916-2010 Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available St. John's College Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Santa Fe, NM Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource [1988-1990] Type The nature or genre of the resource text Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource pdf Language A language of the resource English Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context SF_BellC_Symbolic_History_Script_20_Baroque_Formulation Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource Meem Library has been given permission to make this item available online. https://s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/sjcdigitalarchives/original/cf62d732ae249a4167aa3d483f5ed819.jpg bb331b71511032ae9e4f41be7531bab3 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Image Collection—Annapolis Description An account of the resource <p>The Greenfield Library Image Collection houses over 5,000 photographs, postcards, drawings, and other graphic materials.  The images in the collection document the history, academic, and community life of St. John’s College. </p> To learn more about the Greenfield Library's archives use policy or to obtain high-resolution images, please see the <strong><a title="Image Collection Use Policy" href="http://www.sjc.edu/academic-programs/libraries/greenfield-library/policies/#photographicarchivepolicy" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Library’s Image Collection Use Policy</a></strong>.<br /><br />Click on <strong><a title="Photographic Archives" href="http://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/browse?collection=7">Items in the Image Collection—Annapolis Collection</a></strong> to view and sort all items in the collection. Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available St. John's College Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource St. John's College Greenfield Library Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context imagecollectionannapolis Still Image A static visual representation. Examples include paintings, drawings, graphic designs, plans and maps. Recommended best practice is to assign the type Text to images of textual materials. Physical Dimensions The actual physical size of the original image 25.5 x 20.5 cm. Original Format The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data Photograph Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context SJC-P-1449 Title A name given to the resource Basement Level Stacks in Woodward Hall Library after the 1969 Renovation, Annapolis, Maryland Description An account of the resource 1 photographic print : b&w Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1969-1970 [circa] Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Nakata, Tamotsu Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Type The nature or genre of the resource Still Image Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource jpeg Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource St. John's College owns the rights to this photograph. Woodward Hall Library https://s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/sjcdigitalarchives/original/1d06464e31b463503c4dde6b6cf29474.jpg 940443bb112736358e04924bcbaa8a60 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Image Collection—Annapolis Description An account of the resource <p>The Greenfield Library Image Collection houses over 5,000 photographs, postcards, drawings, and other graphic materials.  The images in the collection document the history, academic, and community life of St. John’s College. </p> To learn more about the Greenfield Library's archives use policy or to obtain high-resolution images, please see the <strong><a title="Image Collection Use Policy" href="http://www.sjc.edu/academic-programs/libraries/greenfield-library/policies/#photographicarchivepolicy" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Library’s Image Collection Use Policy</a></strong>.<br /><br />Click on <strong><a title="Photographic Archives" href="http://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/browse?collection=7">Items in the Image Collection—Annapolis Collection</a></strong> to view and sort all items in the collection. Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available St. John's College Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource St. John's College Greenfield Library Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context imagecollectionannapolis Still Image A static visual representation. Examples include paintings, drawings, graphic designs, plans and maps. Recommended best practice is to assign the type Text to images of textual materials. Physical Dimensions The actual physical size of the original image 25.5 x 20.5 cm. Original Format The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data Photograph Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context SJC-P-1450 Title A name given to the resource Basement Level Stacks in Woodward Hall Library after the 1969 Renovation, Annapolis, Maryland Description An account of the resource 1 photographic print : b&w Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1969-1970 [circa] Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Nakata, Tamotsu Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Type The nature or genre of the resource Still Image Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource jpeg Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource St. John's College owns the rights to this photograph. Woodward Hall Library https://s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/sjcdigitalarchives/original/ff4e7ce556c9bd4195eea6bc2c6fdd22.jpg fb64ffdee9781ad565a3659139a86f2e Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Image Collection—Annapolis Description An account of the resource <p>The Greenfield Library Image Collection houses over 5,000 photographs, postcards, drawings, and other graphic materials.  The images in the collection document the history, academic, and community life of St. John’s College. </p> To learn more about the Greenfield Library's archives use policy or to obtain high-resolution images, please see the <strong><a title="Image Collection Use Policy" href="http://www.sjc.edu/academic-programs/libraries/greenfield-library/policies/#photographicarchivepolicy" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Library’s Image Collection Use Policy</a></strong>.<br /><br />Click on <strong><a title="Photographic Archives" href="http://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/browse?collection=7">Items in the Image Collection—Annapolis Collection</a></strong> to view and sort all items in the collection. Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available St. John's College Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource St. John's College Greenfield Library Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context imagecollectionannapolis Still Image A static visual representation. Examples include paintings, drawings, graphic designs, plans and maps. Recommended best practice is to assign the type Text to images of textual materials. Physical Dimensions The actual physical size of the original image 25.5 x 20.5 cm. Original Format The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data Photograph Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context SJC-P-1451 Title A name given to the resource Basement Level Stacks in Woodward Hall Library after the 1969 Renovation, Annapolis, Maryland Description An account of the resource 1 photographic print : b&w Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1969-1970 [circa] Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Nakata, Tamotsu Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Type The nature or genre of the resource Still Image Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource jpeg Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource St. John's College owns the rights to this photograph. Woodward Hall Library https://s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/sjcdigitalarchives/original/c794466c37e151964d2e24ddf789b5b1.mp3 6be998bab8b0c16846c27eaf822e5aa8 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Description An account of the resource Items in this collection are part of a series of lectures given every year at St. John's College. During the Fall and Spring semesters, lectures are given on Friday nights. 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Original Format The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data audiotape (Tape 397) Duration Length of time involved (seconds, minutes, hours, days, class periods, etc.) 00:57:00 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Battle of the Gods and Giants Description An account of the resource Audio recording of a lecture delivered on March 6, 1992, by Joe Sachs as part of the Formal Lecture Series. Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available St. John's College Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1992-03-06 Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource St. John's College has been given permission to make this item available online. Type The nature or genre of the resource sound Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource mp3 Relation A related resource <a title="Typescript" href="http://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/show/3720">Typescript</a> Language A language of the resource English Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context lec Sachs 1992-03-06 Subject The topic of the resource Aristotle. Physics Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Sachs, Joe, 1946- Tutors https://s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/sjcdigitalarchives/original/3315871e022cd6ac5953e8da25db1041.pdf d08aa2db6bea57b02ad99a39d7a87b4f PDF Text Text The Battle of the Gods and the Giants Joe Sachs Spring, 1992 Dedicated to the memory of J. Winfree Smith �The difficulties that confront a reader of Aristotle's Physics begin with the title, and it is worth thinking about why. If you picked up for the first time a book that had the word mathematics in the title, and saw that it contained no algebraic equations, you might be surprised but you wouldn't be confused. You know that there is more than one kind of mathematics. You probably learned a lot of perfectly good arithmetic and geometry, perhaps even trigonometry, before you ever had to solve for an unknown. But when you pick up a book that claims to be about physics, and find no algebraic equations in it, you might wonder who is trying to kid you. Physics, after all, is the study of matter and energy, and these are only known through relations like "force equals mass times acceleration," or "the integral of force through distance is one-half the product of the mass and the square of the velocity." I have added nothing whatever to these two statements by saying them in words. I might have saved my breath by saying them in symbols, because the things I am talking about are not translatable into English, or any other language humans speak, but have their whole meaning within algebraic relations. But why should there be diverse kinds of mathematics, but only one thing that has a .right to be called physics, and why is physics the narrower of the two? These are not questions about how we use words, but about what we believe knowledge is, and what activities we recognize as instances of knowing. In the second Book of the Physics, just as also in the second Book of the Metaphysics, Aristotle has to explain why he is not going to treat his subject mathematically. His choice is not a matter of taste or preference, but a reasoned conclusion. We will consider his reasons in a few moments, but first let's think a bit about what mathematics is. You probably all know that in Greek ta mathemata are the leamable things, and therefore the understandable things. In some eminent way, mathematics is the place where understanding is achieved and displayed. But what is it that gives mathematics this special position? The seventeenth-century philosopher Descartes, in Part II of his Discourse on Method, gives an answer. Of all those who have ever sought for truth, he says, only the mathematicians have found any that was evident and certain, because only they have �2 constructed methodical demonstrations. Start with truths that are simple and evident, proceed step-by-step with inferences that are certain, and everything knowable, however remote and obscure it may seem to begin with, will eventually be trapped in a net of certainty. Knowledge is built like houses, streets, and cities, brick by brick, set parallel and at right angles, without choice, without flair, and without risk. How much of this Descartes really means is a question I can't help you with, and this is not going to be a lecture about Descartes. He has an ancient prototype, to whom I will soon turn. But if it is true that it is proof that makes mathematics what it is, what are we to say of the following example? In this century there was a mathematician named Ramanujan, who blossomed in India without benefit of an education. He was considered to have the highest mathematical genius and originality, but to have no idea of proof. How is such a thing possible? The connection between knowledge and mathematics is artfully presented in Plato's Theaetetus. It is with mathematicians that Socrates asks the question, what is knowledge? And with the same art, Plato indicates that the question about knowledge is bound up with the question of what it is that makes mathematics the eminent example of knowledge. The latter question is never formulated in the dialogue, but it is put in front of us dramatically, in the two people, Theaetetus and Theodorus. The student and teacher are both mathematicians, but there is a world of difference between them, and the unanswered question about knowledge is reflected in that difference. Theodorus once proved (147D) that if a square has an area of three square feet, its side is incommensurable in length with the foot. And he proved the same thing again about the square of five square feet, and again and again and again with six, seven, eight, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, and seventeen. This is a man who believes in proofs. If one proof is good, twelve are better, because certainty is achieved every time. Theodorus is a man who doesn't like controversy. His strongest expression of feeling in the dialogue comes when Socrates asks him (170D) whether people disagree with all his opinions. He swears an oath to Zeus, quotes Homer, and says that tens of thousands of �3 people always disagree with him, and surround him with troubles that are more than human beings can bear. In fact, in his younger days, Theodorus had turned away from philosophy and toward mathematics (165A). He says it was because philosophic talk consists of bare words, but what does he mean by bare? He shows immediately that he means that they are lacking in certainty; in one of his many refusals to take part in the discussion with Socrates, he says that he fears the shame of being overturned in argument. Mathematics is for Theodorus a haven of certainty. Because it has proofs, it is foolproof knowledge. But the picture of Theodorus at work proving things contains a contrasting picture of Theaetetus at work seeing something. Dissatisfied with an infinitely repeatable procedure, Theaetetus looks for and finds a single image by which he can see at glance whether any number of square feet will have a side that is incommensurable with the one-foot length: the image of the oblong rectangle. For any number, one need only see whether it can be produced by an equal times an equal; if it cannot, then as a square it will have a side that is neither any number of feet nor any fraction of a number. Theaetetus' proof of this is not given by Plato, but it appears in Euclid's proposition X,9. It is roughly this: one shows frrst that the squares on any two commensurable lines have areas in the same ratio as some pair of square numbers. Then if any square does not have a number of square feet equal to a square number, it cannot be on a side commensurable with the foot. As a proof, it is not very interesting. As an insight it is remarkable, and Socrates calls it "most beautiful" (148A). This might remind us that Theodorus began the dialogue by telling Socrates that Theaetetus is not beautiful, in fear that someone might suspect that he loved him, but is so far from being beautiful that he resembles Socrates. Theodorus fears that the integrity of his judgement would be compromised if what is known as true is also lovable as beautiful. Once one has noticed the picture Plato has drawn, it is unforgettable. What is the mathematician aiming at? Theodorus has found safety in certainty; Theaetetus stretches out to see the true in the beautiful. In the dialogue, Theaetetus repeatedly fails to see the image of knowing in his own seeing, but he is miles ahead of Theodorus, who must be prodded, �4 nagged, flattered, shamed, and roused to anger before he finally begins to take the risks that might lead to knowing. Mathematics is an example of knowing worthy of imitation not because it is so safe, but because it sees what it is thinking. In mathematics, things that are present to the intellect and understanding alone are present in such a way that the language of seeing must be used to descnbe it. I am sure you have all had the experience of learning a proof, but not seeing the conclusion. Was there ever a time after such an experience when you said, "Now I see"? If so, then you also see, now, what I mean. You see that in mathematics, a truth might be something that you not only think, not only understand, but encounter in the act of contemplation. The answer to the question, what is knowledge?, is never formulated in words in the Iheaetetus, but it is set in front of us, in pieces, to be seen. We are invited to recognize what knowledge is in such a way that by doing so we must enact it, engage in the act of knowing. Knowing resembles sense-perception in its immediacy, its first-hand, eyewitness character, but it cannot be sense-perception because the objects of the senses are fluctuating things that have no identity. Knowing must belong to some power of the soul other than sensing. But Theaetetus overshoots this other power when he calls it opinion. Socrates shows him that opinion is the residue that remains when thinking stops (190A). But the live thinking that permits the formation of an opinion might be the very activity of the soul that sees the evident intelligible things just as the eyes see the evident visual things. The last part of the dialogue, in which a logos is taken to mean an analysis into parts, keeps running into the difficulty than an intelligible whole must already be present as a whole before any analysis can be judged complete or correct. For example, in order to know that two times three is the same as four plus two, we must know six in some way that is independent of both analyses. In this humble example of knowing what six is, we can see the point that Theaetetus kept missing, just as he saw the point that Theodorus kept missing in his endless proofs about squares. On this way of looking at things, the glory of mathematics is not its procedure, and �5 certainly not its subject matter, but the fact that it makes the experience of contemplation readily available to us. The two authors with whom our math tutorial begins know this well. In I, 47, Euclid sets in front of us a construction in which almost everything that has preceded it is present in one image, and in Book XIII, in a five-fold image, he achieves the feat of bringing together most of the most striking things that have been shown in the previous twelve books. Ptolemy also constructs the Almagest to lead up to a high moment of seeing, in Book XII, in his common, composite diagram, which shows how, on either of two hypotheses, a ratio produces the appearances of planetary retrogradation. It goes without saying that the same picture reveals the causes of planetary progression, so that one image lays bare the intelligible heart of the cosmos. When Ptolemy speaks of contemplating the things that are always as they are, he does not mean bending the neck backwards at night. These three examples of objects of contemplation are not meant to be flashes of intuition, but are prepared for by long and disciplined work. But in them, what thinking has encountered successively in time reassembles itself in simultaneous presence. Active thinking still has to be going on, or the object will collapse, but it is not one-thing-after-another thinking. It is the kind of thinking we intend when we speak not of propositions but of theorems. What is proposed must be judged, and is at best adopted as a secure opinion, but a theorem is beheld. It belongs to the theater of the intellect. In Greek, this contemplative activity is called theoria. The examples I have given may make it seem that the theater of the intellect is the imagination, but this cannot be true. Just as the triangle drawn on the blackboard, on paper, or in the sand, serves only to direct the imagination to make a more adequate image, so the triangle in the imagination serves only to direct the intellect. Triangles are made of lines, and lines are breadthless, so anything we can see in the imagination cannot be the triangle about which we reason. But the picture in the imagination is a stepping-stone to seeing what is invisible. In the diagram of I, 47, the eye can follow an area between parallels to see it reappear in a different place and shape, yet as the same. The eye can do this because it is �6 informed by the intellect which has learned the elementary properties of parallel lines in Book I. But just as the intellect can inform the eye, in this case the eye of imagination, the eye can supply content to the intellect. The lines that form one construction, present all at once, mark out also one complex of interrelated properties of the triangle, on which the gaze of the intellect itself can rest. But does this mean that anything that is present in imagination can become content for the contemplation of the intellect? Aristotle says no. We might imagine that a human being is bigger than a city, or bigger than the universe, but nothing follows from that about what is true or even what is possible. This argument, at the end of Book III of the Physics, applies directly to the proof Lucretius gives of the infinity of the world. Lucretius asks what would happen to a javelin thrown outward from the supposed edge of the world, and his fantasy supplies an answer. But I could make a counter-fantasy that preserves the finitude of the world: the thrower swings his arm in a mighty arc, and the javelin flies backward toward the earth. The imagination is compatible with two pictures that are not compatible with each other. Either one can provide content for an opinion, but contemplation can only be directed at what is true. So there are things in the imagination that cannot become present in any way in the intellect. But suppose we ask the opposite question. Can everything that is in the intellect become present in imagination? It would seem that the highest, imageless kind of thinking must go beyond what the imagination is capable of, but Aristotle does not agree. In Book III, Chapter 8, of De Anima, Aristotle makes the surprising claims that whenever the intellect contemplates, it also beholds some image, and that, though the primary objects of the intellect are not themselves imaginable, they always have images. To understand what Aristotle is saying, one must distinguish the immediacy of contemplation from the successive making of connections. The kind of step-by-step thinking that we ordinarily do is obviously possible without images; we think, if all A is B, and all B is C, then all A must be C, and the necessity of the conclusion is only obscured by images. This kind of thinking is called �7 dianoia in Greek, and proceeds by assertions and denials, which Aristotle explicitly rules out in the passage we are considering. It is only nous, the contemplative intellect, that is guaranteed to be imbedded in images. But the necessity that every object of intellect have an image must have some cause. What can it be? I am sure that some of you are there ahead of me. After all, everyone knows that Aristotle rejected Plato's belief in separate forms, and taught that the universals that the intellect deals with are produced by th.e act of abstraction. If the universals came out of the sensible particulars in the fist place, then the images of those particulars would also be images of the corresponding abstractions. There is only one problem with this solution. Like most of the things that everyone knows about Aristotle, this one is not true. It is not even close. It is so spectacularly wrong that it blocks the understanding of anything Aristotle thought. It is not a tenable doctrine in the first place, as I will try to show. But worse than that, the belief that Aristotle held such a view makes the Physics a closed book, and that in turn deprives us of the most powerful alternative we might consider to the physics we are accustomed to. The idea of abstraction, as we use it and as we tend to impose it on Aristotle, abolishes the idea of nature. What, then, do we mean by abstraction? On the first day of your freshman math tutorial, when you or someone else said that points and lines are abstractions, what did you or she or he mean? In your Plato seminars, when people called justice and beauty abstractions, what did they mean? We do not need to examine the immense and diverse medieval and modern philosophic literature about the topic to be sure of certain things. An abstraction is a second-class citizen in the realm of beings. The first class citizen is whatever is not abstract but concrete. And what is concrete? Anything we can hold or touch is undeniable, genuine, and concrete. In Plato's Sophist, the Eleatic Stranger compares certain . people to the mythical giants who tried to pull everything down to the earth. (246A-B) These are people who aggressively insist that what is is always a body; when anyone says otherwise, they are contemptuous and won't listen. In the Theaetetus, Socrates has called �8 them the uninitiated, who believe that there is nothing except what they can clench in their hands (155E), but the word meaning uninitiated also means unsealed, leaky, or unsound, and suggests that the clenched fists of these hard-headed realists are really sieves, letting all sorts of things slip through. Socrates introduces these people as those who have not experienced wonder, and the Stranger places them among those whose way of talking is vague. They are comic characters, rigid in the way they hold their opinions but vague in the content of them, grasping things tightly while being slips through their fingers. Who are they? As Socrates tells Glaucon of the people in another strange image, they are like us. I suspect that there is one of these giants in every one of us, who is uncomfortable with the possibility that anything invisible or intangible could be anything at all. But it is so obvious that such things must somehow be something, that we take the shortest route to make ourselves comfortable again and call them abstractions. We make them up, and they are only in the mind. But to be so appealing to us, the word abstract must mean a little something, and our other uses of the verb mean things like to boil down, to remove, to extract. So here, in two sentences, we have already found a self-contradiction. Abstraction was supposed to make the objects of thought unmysterious by producing them. But whatever the process of abstraction is, it cannot have any product that is not already present beforehand. If we are abstracting from tangible bodies, then they must in the first place be made, in part, out of objects of thought. This is what I meant by saying that our usual idea of abstraction is not tenable. It makes the thinkable things unmysterious only by doing just the opposite to the visible things. It ends up claiming that our eyes see the invisible and our hands hold the intangible, because it tells us that when we think one of those invisible and intangible things, we have extracted it out of a body like a tooth. The idea of abstraction answers no question, but only goes around in a circle and gets dizzy. Anything it gives us, we already have; anything we don't already have, it can't give us. So what about the well-know fact that Aristotle said the forms are only abstractions? The Greek word aphairesis, which is translated as abstraction, is the ordinary word for �9 subtraction. It is used a few times in the Physics, and only in this ordinary sense. But the word does have our modem sense as well, and this is usually regarded as Aristotle's invention. This seems to me to be unlikely. I am aware of three places where Aristotle speaks of certain ideas as abstractions, and in two of the three he calls them the so-called abstractions. This use of the word is rare in Aristotle's works, and never, I repeat never, refers to anything but the objects of mathematics. In the Metaphysics (1061a 28ff.), Aristotle says that what the mathematician does is peel away (periairein) all the sensory attnbutes of things, and contemplate the quantities that remain. In De Anima he says that the intellect thinks these so-called abstractions, such as straightness, as separated things, even though they are not separated. (429b 18-19, 43 lb 16-18) In the Posterior Analytics he tells us what faculty these so-called abstractions actually depend on (81a 40-b 9), and I will return to this in a moment. In the Physics, Aristotle leaves out the word abstract, and simply uses the more revealing word separated. In Book II, Chapter 2, of the Physics, Aristotle says that the mathematician treats as separate what is not separate. This does not make his conclusions false. In fact, as Aristotle says in the Metaphysics (1078a 21-23), it is the best way to study anything. But they are not conclusions about nature. By separating the attributes of quantity and position from everything else, the mathematician loses nature, for three reasons. He leaves behind motion, material, and ends. Now you may not mind the loss of ends, and you may count it a gain to set aside the effects of material, such as friction, but the claim that mathematical abstraction gets rid of motion may seem puzzling. For Aristotle, though, this is the most emphatic reason for the unsuitability of a mathematical approach to nature. What does he mean? First of all, Aristotle does not banish mathematics from physics when it has something to offer. Optics, for example, can recombine what it has separated, using the mathematical line only as a temporary detour toward understanding a natural path. And several important arguments throughout the Physics are entirely about ratios. And the most important of the �10 branches of mathematics that Aristotle says surely belong to physics as well is astronomy, in which the whole point is to consider motions. But within mathematics, only one kind of motion is possible: change of position in a neutral, homogeneous, unlimited medium. We call it motion in space. According to Aristotle, such a thing never takes place in nature and never could. One might be tempted to think that pure spatial motion does not occur in the world, just because it is pure. The paths things follow are not exactly straight lines or parabolas, and the things that move are not points or spheres, but still, behind all the qualifications and complexities, there is something clear and simple that we can focus our attention on. Descartes says that the mathematician knows inotion better than anyone else (Le Monde, Ch. 7). Galileo tells us that the world is a book, written in mathematical characters; if we know how to read, we need not stare stupidly at marks on a page, but can grasp the meaning within. (The Assayer) And most wonderfully of all, Newton says that everyone knows what time, space, and motion are, but the vulgar--that's us--have a prejudice that such things bear some relation to sensible bodies. (Principia, scholium to definitions) These thinkers do not describe the world mathematically, they describe mathematics and say that it is the world. As their heirs, we now have not only the vulgar prejudices they attack: we have along with them a whole new array of sophisticated prejudices, at the center of which is the belief that we live and move in space. The idea of space is so firmly embedded in our thinking that it is hard to see that there is any alternative to it. According to Aristotle, though, space is an idea that arises only by self-deception. Since bodies are extended, we can think of the extension without at the same time thinking of the bodies. (211b 16-19, 212b 25-27) This is the separation or abstraction characteristic of mathematics, and Aristotle has no quarrel with it. But in order to get from mathematical extension to the idea of space, we have to pretend that what we abstracted was in the first place present in the world. We experience bodies, separate their extension from them, imagine it as space, and declare that it is the world. Now that we �11 have invented space, we are free to put things into it, in our imaginations, and set them moving along any path, at any speed that we please. Once we have replaced the world we live in with this invented world of space, this is in fact the only kind of motion possible, and we are apt to think that it really is all that motion could be. This is the fork in the road. If we can set this idea of motion in space aside for a while, we can enter Aristotle's Physics. If we cannot, we might as well set the book aside, for the central topic of Aristotle's Physics is motion, and he means what he says when he tells us the mathematician must leave motion behind. Change of place is one of the kinds of motion Aristotle considers, but change of place presupposes places, and there are no places in space. Spaces are all alike and are all together infinite. How do I know? I consult my imagination. That ought to give me a clue as to what kind of thing I am talking about. What Lucretius presents as a proof of the infinity of the world is in fact only a proof of the infinity of space, and I know in the same way that no part of space has any power or potency that would make it any more or less appropriate than any other for any inhabitant. But the things we encounter all have places. Trees don't grow in the air, human beings don't breathe in the sea, and stars don't circle underground. When things change place, we can't understand what is going on unless we know what kind of thing is moving, and whether it is going toward, away from, or through a place in which it can remain and sustain itself. The placeless realm of mathematical physics already makes the natural kinds to which things belong invisible. It is a de-natured realm. But the natures of things are not accessible to us through a simple turning to imagination. If we take Aristotle's road toward nature, on what power of knowing can we rely? I mentioned earlier that Aristotle does not say that we get at universal ideas by abstraction. The most important of those ideas, he says we get at by epagoge. This is usually translated as "induction," but that is misleading. We use that word to refer to the process of generalizing from many examples. In many places, Aristotle says unmistakably that one example is sufficient to give us the universal present in the particular (e.g. Posterior �12 Analytics 71a, 7-9, Physics 247b 5-7). Epagoge means "coming face-to-face with" something, and it belongs not to the dianoia, by which we make connections and figure things out, but to the nous, the contemplative intellect. The ultimate aim of the Physics is the contemplative knowledge of nature, and the inquiry depends all along on the presence of the contemplative faculty. Aristotle describes completed knowledge as a contemplative insight into ultimate things, combined with reasoned conclusions from them. His word for this is episteme, which comes to us through its Latin equivalent as science, and most commentators call the Physics a science, the science of moving things. Nothing could be further from the truth. Like all Aristotle's books, the Physics ascends toward the ultimate source of the appearances it studies. The ultimate source of natural motion is only uncovered in the last pages of the book. Aristotle calls this order of inquiry dialectical. It begins with experience, seeks to uncover its universal character, and reasons from effects to causes with the aim of bringing into presence that which makes its subject whole. It begins and ends in the faculty of nous, and consists in the progressive unfolding of its contemplative activity. If this road toward knowledge sounds familiar to you, there is a good reason. In the Meno, Socrates uses the myth or metaphor of recollection to describe how inquiry is possible. In Book VII, Chapter 3, of the Physics, Aristotle says straightforwardly that knowledge cannot come into being in us because it has always already been present in us all along. Our thinking becomes knowing when it calms down out of its native disorder. The physics familiar to us does violence to nature, by experiments to be sure, but more deeply and radically by turning natural things into mathematical ones. The act of abstraction cuts nature down to a size we can handle. Aristotle, on the contrary, says that we can let nature remain intact and still come to know it, because we are already in a living relation with it. We are finally in a position to see why the contemplative intellect always has images available to it. The object of nous has a name that will be familiar to you. Aristotle says it is the eidos. But he also says that nature is form. The nature of anything comes to it not �13 from its material but from the internal activity that forms it, and it is this same activity that is at work upon the human intellect whenever it contemplates. The content of contemplation is given to it by the activities that are always at work, forming the things in the world. That is why each single object of sense-perception has its universal character immediately present in it. The universal in question is the eidos at work, holding it together as the thing that it is. The intellect is present in every act of perception, and the imagination is available to every act of the intellect, because all three faculties are directed at the same being. Aristotle agrees with Plato that the forms of things are not abstract ideas, but are beings. They are not dependent on us, but rather everything that is is dependent on them. The great fact, evident everywhere around us, is the continual emergence and reemergence of things in accordance with kinds. Being is, first and last, living being. That is the meaning of Aristotle's claim that being is energeia, being-at-work, and always has the character of entelecheia, being-at-work-staying-itself. Everything that exists at all is or is part of some self-maintaining whole. Every living thing lives within the orderly and self-renewing whole that supplies its material needs, and everything that is not living has its nature within this organized cosmos. Does the rain fall so that crops may grow? (Bk. II, ch. 8) Not so that one man's crops may thrive while another man's wheat is spoiled on the threshing floor, but always, over and over, the waters that evaporate in the hot months return to earth in the cold months to sustain the earth not as a region of space but as a place in the cosmos appropriate to the life of plants and animals. When Aristotle says that nature acts for ends, he explains this by saying that the end is the form. Things have natures because they are formed into wholes. The claim is not that these natural wholes have purposes but that they are purposes. Every being is an end in itself, and the word telos, that we translate as end, means completion. When we try to judge Aristotle's claim that nature acts for ends, we tend to confuse ourselves in two ways. First, we imagine that it must mean something deliberates and has purposes. Second and worse, we begin with our mathematically conceived universe, and �14 can't find anything in it that looks like a directedness toward ends. But Aristotle indicates that it is just because ends are present in nature that a physicist cannot be a mathematician. We have seen that even change of place becomes impossible in mathematical space. But there are three other kinds of motion, from which the mathematician is even more hopelessly cut off, without which activity for the sake of ends would be impossible. Things in the world are born, develop, and grow. Genuine wholes, which are not random heaps, must be able to come into being, take on the qualities appropriate to their natures, and achieve a size at which they are complete. But mathematical objects can at most be combined, separated, and rearranged. If we have first committed ourselves to a view of the world as being extended lumps in a void, there is no way to get wholes or ends back into the world. That means in turn that the question of ends has to come first, before one permits any choice to be made that empties the world of possibilities. Why are we so likely to adopt the picture of the world that mathematical physics gives us, before even asking whether it requires us to give anything up? It is surely not a rational procedure to paint ourselves into a corner, and then ask whether there is someplace other than that corner that we really want to be. I think the answer to this question might emerge if we think about causes. The first thing Aristotle says in the Physics, which he says repeatedly in many other places as well, is that we do not know something until we know its cause. This may sound strange at first. I want to know one thing, and I am told that knowing it means knowing something else. But if I attach a predicate to a subject, I have at most made judgment or formed an opinion. If I can see through what, or on account of what, the predicate belongs to the subject, that third thing has given my thought a dimension of depth. But something stranger still happens when the new physics of the seventeenth century takes shape. Galileo tells us that investigating the causes of natural motions would be a waste of time. (Two New Sciences, NE p.202) Newton makes no hypotheses about the cause of the properties of gravitation, and says they would have no place in his science. (Principia, �15 general scholium) Descartes, as usual, gives us the clearest view of what is going on. He says that matter has no attributes that are not perfectly known to everyone. "You could not even pretend not to know it," he says. And, "you must necessarily conceive of it or you can never imagine anything." (Le Monde, Ch. 6) Suddenly the world needs no explanation. Everything in it is pre-explained. To exhibit any of the properties of mathematized matter is to see through it all the way to the bottom, because it is conceived as having no properties other than the ones that are being exhibited. We have already seen Aristotle's criticism of the idea of space. The extension of body is separated from body, and declared to exist by itself. The corresponding idea of matter depends upon it. It is filled space, the bearer of a few properties that are completely determined when they have been measured. Bodies, that had natures to begin with, were turned first into space and then into masses, and along the way the world became much easier to explain. Aristotle's approach to explanation is to let things be what they are, and inquire into the causes responsible for their being as they are. The alternative approach is to reduce the world to things that are so poor in properties and do so little that no explanation is required. In fact matter, understood as mass, doesn't do anything at all. It is the passive seat of motions that no more belong to it than do any other motions, or than to any other masses. It is not only Newton's first law, but all three of his laws that say that matter is inert. In his Opticks, Newton calls them passive laws of motion that all result from a force of inactivity. (Question 31) Aristotle says that being is being-at-work. Newton says that being is being so hard that nothing can cause it to change. Just as motion in space is not the same as change of place, matter conceived of as inert masses bears no relation to what Aristotle called hule or material. Nothing in the natural world is simply matter, but everything that is belongs to some living thing or to the organized whole of the cosmos. Everything is already formed in some way, and bursting with potency toward activity. Motion is understood by Aristotle always to be the result of the spilling over of the potentialities that belong to the material in any being. The opposite of �16 activity, passivity or inertia, is not present anywhere in Aristotle's account of things. Dunamis is nascent activity, striving to emerge, or dormant activity, awaiting its moment in the rhythm of life. From the standpoint of mathematical physics, such potentialities are occult qualities, and are not permitted to exist. The dream of this physics is to give back all the appearances of the world as determined by mere mechanism. Now the strangest fact is that this mechanistic approach to the world failed, and failed at the very moment that it was fully realized. The three laws of Newton's Principia embody and perfect the mechanistic picture of the world, but the Principia as a whole shows that the world does not fit into that picture. Masses are not just inert lumps that interact only when they happen to bump, but are sources of a mysterious gravitational pull, and the spaces between masses are not empty but in some way serve as the medium by which this attraction acts at a distance. The conception of matter and space produces a pleasing picture, in which the question, why?, need not ever be asked, but that picture does not account for any event. The inadequacy of the ideas of inert bodies and empty space surfaces again when light is shown to be wave motion, and then to be incapable of having any material medium for the waves to be in. Twentieth-century physics completes the destruction of the ideas that serve as its own foundation, when it shows that every particle of matter must also be an immaterial wave, and every wave must also be a particle. Not only can matter and space not give an account of anything, they cannot even hold on to the determinacy that makes them distinct from one another. What makes this failure of mechanistic explanation so strange is the fact that its failure doesn't seem to be regarded as a flaw. Mechanism continues as a dream, and as the guiding vision of an enterprise that keeps marching forward, producing ever more complex mathematical descriptions of events, and giving rise to ever more effective ways of controlling the world. It fails only as knowledge. The trouble is not that the mechanist account is incomplete. One cannot add a power of attraction to an inert mass, or tack a distribution of energies onto empty space. Things have to be conceived in the first place in �17 such a way that they might intelligibly be the bearers of such active states. But the whole point of the ideas of matter and space is that they be devoid of all hidden powers. Many true conclusions might follow from a set of false premisses, and one might be content to live with a certain number of loose ends, but the human desire to know will ultimately have its way. Some twentieth-century physicists have recognized the need to rethink the way the world is, from the bottom up. One has suggested that the true beings are potencies, of which particles and waves are only appearances. (Heisenberg) Another has suggested that the world is a seamless whole, in which nothing exists in isolation. (Bohm) A third has even studied Aristotle's definition of motion, in the hope that it might open some way out of the dead end of modern physics. (von Weizsacker) These issues are wide open. All that is agreed is that the physics of Galileo and Newton is "classical," which means untrue, and that current physics has found no way to articulate what it is talking about. One source of trouble may be that the world cannot be understood from the bottom up. It may be that physicists are looking for the right way to understand points, so that they can put them together and make lines. Everywhere on a line one can find a point, but only if the line is first given as a whole. The central ideas of Aristotle's physics are wholeness and continuity. In the first chapter of Book I, he argues that we have nowhere to begin an inquiry except with the wholes we encounter in experience. The task is not to replace them but to understand them. Throughout the Physics, the picture of the world is of living things in a cosmos, as opposed to matter in space. And no genuine whole can be understood by reducing it to its parts. How can it be understood? We have come back to the question of cause. Aristotle says that causes are of four kinds, and understanding anything requires knowing all four of its causes. But just as with the four kinds of motion, we have lost the meaning of three of the causes, and diminished the fourth beyond recognition. What we call the "efficient" cause makes some sense to us, because it corresponds to the transferences of �18 motion in a mechanical system. But Aristotle uses no word or phrase that could be translated as "efficient cause." The only cause external to a being that interests him is that which origi,nates motion. By efficient cause, we mean some motion earlier in time, that results in another motion by way of a push or a pull. But Aristotle argues at the beginning of Book VIII that there can be no first motion in time, but before any motion some prior one was necessary. These sequences of events are infinite, are casual only in a derivative and incidental way, and explain nothing. But there is another kind of sequence, not of events but of beings, not backward in time but upward in responsibility, that Aristotle says leads from any motion to its origin. He gives an example that is the same as that of a baseball flying off a bat. (256a 6-8) The origin of the motion is not the bat, but neither is it the hand or the arm, and it is certainly not the passage of an electron across a neural synapse. Only the human being as a whole can hit a baseball, and he does so as an origin of motion. The pitcher had to throw the ball first, but the batter does not re-act, as dead matter, but has to act, as a source with its own integrity, and can hold back from acting. The example illustrates two things that are at the heart of Aristotle's physics. First, the responsibility for any event has a place where it begins. Mechanical events form a homogeneous string of bumps and exchanges, but in the true, non-mathematical world, some events are incidental or instrumental, while others are causal because they are the sources of the rest. And second, the sources of motion are never themselves motions. (257b 9) Newton's third law says that motions are only caused by motions, but that means that the cause is always exactly the same kind of thing as the effect, and cannot provide an explanation of it. The corresponding principle in Aristotle's account is that where there is a motion, there is a being that is its origin. This means in turn that motion is never an explanation of anything, because it always leads back to something that is what it is not by motion but by activity. Mechanistic explanation starts at the bottom of things with inertia. Aristotelian explanation starts at the top of things with activity, energeia, being-at-work. �19 But being-at-work is what Aristotle says the form is, and the potency, or straining toward being-at-work is the way he characterizes material. Finally, the end, or telos, of a natural thing is so inseparable from its being-at-work that Aristotle fuses the two names into one: entelecheia, being-at-work-staying-itself. That is, the three causes other than the external source of motion work in just the same way that it does, except that they are all internal. The formal, material, and final causes are the what-it-is, of-what-it-is, and completeness-for-the-sake-of-which-it-is, which are responsible not only for motion but for any thing's being at all. If you have been thinking of them as a static blueprint, a heap of inert matter, and a distant, external purpose, you may be excused for wondering why they should be called causes. They are instead three ways of looking at the ceaseless working without which beings would indeed collapse into inertness. They are responsible for the motions which cannot be drawn on a blackboard, the birth, development, and growth to maturity of each being. More important still, the form, material, and end are responsible for the kind of rest into which the mature and complete being settles. This state of rest is not the cessation of motion, but the organization of motion into active equilibrium, the transformation of motion by which it is no longer change but just its opposite, stability. Aristotelian physics is not about how bodies fall and collide, but how bodies are. Mathematical physics tries to look behind the world, to a realm where being is simply given. Aristotle looks at the world and sees that in it being is always an achievement. The simplest examples of being as being-at-work are eating and breathing. But beings do not simply survive. All of them are at work in the lives they live, and in which alone they are complete. My dog, for example, lives in and for the chase. I have no sheep for her to herd, and squirrels and cats are not very co-operative, but rubber balls and plastic frisbees are adequate substitutes, because the ever-renewed chase is an end in itself. How do I know this? I think it is by the power of nous, applied in an attentive and patient looking in which what is important becomes foreground, and what is incidental recedes into the background. Her dunamis is apparent in the tense and concentrated stance characteristic of border �20 collies, her eidos is most evident in the swoop, capture, and return, and her telos is recognizable in the perfect fusion of desire and satisfaction in the same activity. There are physicists of an Aristotelian kind around us today. They are called ethologists or animal behaviorists. Their activity seems to me to be contemplative, since a life must take shape and unfold before them. Another kind of biologist seeks to reduce living things to the behavior of DNA molecules, to make their study finally a branch of mathematical physics. But while DNA is certainly part of the material basis of life, it doesn't explain anything. Two thousand years or so of breeding were involved in getting my dog her DNA, but only as a means to an end. All those breeders were looking at dogs at work. No account can begin with DNA. Even blue eyes can only be explained by someone who knows what eyes are and what blue is. Eyes live in the world and blue appears in the light, and no amount of inspection can find them in any molecule. One could imagine Theodorus contentedly working out genetic maps for species he had never seen, but Theaetetus would know something was missing. We deliberately stupefy ourselves when we first cut off from the living world all traces of wholeness and activity, then declare that they are not present because we cannot find them in the residue. We feel driven to conclude that life is only an offshoot of blind chance and necessity, because we have reduced our field of view to one in which nature cannot enter. The crowning irony is that the matter-and-space explanation at which molecular biology aims has already failed in physics itself. Still worse, many people are groping to recapture an idea of nature, only to be frustrated by a misguided respect for mathematical physics. Respect for living things is not a sentimental attachment, undercut by the way things really are, and the desire to see the natural world less disfigured by human encroachments is not a nostalgic longing for a lost way of life. The idea of natures as active causes is a live alternative to mathematical physics. A first step toward re-opening ourselves to the question of how things are would be to see the mathematical reduction of the world as something that limits and falsifies it. Looking at the world that way reveals a lot of �21 connections that help us manipulate things, but also conceals other things that might be at least equally important to us. Material might have an innate directedness toward certain complete wholes. Motion might be more than rearrangement of positions in a void. Aristotle's Physics could teach us how to keep our eyes open to possibilities. It might even convince us that it is possible to know something without destroying it. Things might be more, not less, than they first appear to be, with an interior depth of activity and an exterior richness of connections, just in being what they are. But most important of all, Aristotle might open our eyes to what knowing is. It is not a possession, but an activity. It is not a corporate activity of the human race, but yours alone, because no one can do it for you. Mathematics is one of its humbler manifestations, and all knowing is akin to mathematics in the sense that it is achieved when one beholds the way things are, together with its evidence, all at once in living thinking. But knowing is not limited to mathematics, or dependent on it. And it is not subject to progress, apart from the progression of each person's learning. As contributions to that kind of progress, the most recent books and pronouncements might be the most stale and barren, and Aristotle's Physics might have the inexhaustible freshness of nature itself. � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Description An account of the resource Items in this collection are part of a series of lectures given every year at St. John's College. During the Fall and Spring semesters, lectures are given on Friday nights. Items include audio and video recordings and typescripts.<br /><br />For more information, and a schedule of upcoming lectures, please visit the <strong><a href="http://www.sjc.edu/programs-and-events/annapolis/formal-lecture-series/" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">St. John's College website</a></strong>.  <br /><br />Click on <strong><a title="Formal Lecture Series" href="https://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/browse?collection=5&amp;sort_field=Dublin+Core%2CDate&amp;sort_dir=d">Items in the St. John's College Formal Lecture Series—Annapolis Collection</a></strong> to view and sort all items in the collection.<br /><br />A growing number of lecture recordings are also available on the St. John's College (Annapolis) Lectures podcast. Visit <a href="https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/st-johns-college-annapolis-lectures/id1695157772">Apple Podcasts</a> or <a href="https://open.spotify.com/show/6GDsIRqC8SWZ28AY72BsYM?si=f2ecfa9e247a456f" title="Spotify">Spotify</a> to listen and subscribe. Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource St. John's College Greenfield Library Title A name given to the resource St. John's College Formal Lecture Series—Annapolis Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context formallectureseriesannapolis Text A resource consisting primarily of words for reading. Examples include books, letters, dissertations, poems, newspapers, articles, archives of mailing lists. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre Text. Original Format The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data paper Page numeration Number of pages in the original item. 22 pages Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Battle of the gods and giants Description An account of the resource Typescript of a lecture delivered on March 6, 1992 by Joe Sachs as part of the Formal Lecture Series. Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available St. John's College Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1992-03-06 Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource St. John's College has been given permission to make this item available online. Type The nature or genre of the resource text Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource pdf Relation A related resource <a title="Sound recording" href="http://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/show/3719">Sound recording</a> Language A language of the resource English Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context lec Sachs 1992-03-06 Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Sachs, Joe, 1946- Tutors https://s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/sjcdigitalarchives/original/0925f6bf43157991e821d8069a0139ad.pdf 127328a020940f6684ba06d27e1dd960 PDF Text Text Baudelaire's Swan Song A lecture by Jonathan Tuck Delivered at St. John's College, Annapolis-October 13, 2006 This lecture is dedicated to the memory of Brother Robert Smith. The late Reverend J. Winfree Smith, a long-time Annapolis tutor, a historian of the New Program, an Anglican priest, a scholar and a Virginia gentleman of the old school, used to assert that Charles Baudelaire was a greater poet than Homer. Winfree's view counts for quite a lot with me, but I would not go that far. I am willing to say that Baudelaire is the greatest poet of the last two hundred years or so, the first and most essential of"modern" writers and the one who best articulates our own feelings of what it is to be modern. And I think that Le Cygne is Baudelaire's greatest poem, although perhaps not his most typical one. This valuation sets the bar quite high enough for me, for this evening at least. Thus, for about the last twenty years, I have held the writing of this lecture before me as a daunting but imperative task. I have a further reason for trepidation: I believe that it's indispensable, before discussing any poem, first to read it aloud. But I am keenly aware that, unlike some of you, I am very far from a native or even a fluent speaker of French,. My hope is that in enunciating the poem aloud, I can bring out some of its metrical features through a kind of exaggeration; that may compensate you for having to hear my accented reading. So here it is-those without French can follow along on the right-hand side of the handout. [The handout, with French text and translation, is appended.] �The poem begins abruptly; let that be my excuse for doing so as well. Andromaque,je pense avous-in spite of the formal vous, the tone is oddly familiar, almost a postcard salutation. The abruptness comes partly from a metrical feature: Most of the poem will be written in classical alexandrines, twelve-syllable lines with a caesura or break in the middle-the most common meter in traditional French poetry. But this line is a "vers romantique," or "trimetre": Instead of 6+6, the syllables divide in three groups of four: I 2 3 4 I 2 3 4 I 23 4 Andromaque, lje pense avous! I Ce petitfleuve ... The trimetre adds rapidity to the opening as well as a less conventionally "poetic" tone. It is a startling opening, memorable in the same way as, say, the first line of John Donne' s "The Canonization": For God's sake hold your tongue, and let me love. Andromaque, je pense avous. "Andromache, I'm thinking of you!" Despite the apparently simple directness of this address, there are complications and contradictions almost immediately. For example, in the phrase ce petitfleuve, ce could mean "this" or "that." Where is the speaker? Is he pointing to a little stream in Paris (perhaps the swan's waterless spring, or even the Seine itself), or is he remembering Andromache's stream far away? This latter seems more likely; but then how can that stream have made his memory fertile so as to make him think of her? Wouldn't he already have had to be thinking of her, in order to be thinking of the false SimoYs so as to have it fertilize his memory? And if his memory is already.fertile, why must it be feconde? The majesty of her widow's griefs is immense, etymologically, "unmeasurable"- and I should say at the outset that with Baudelaire, as with Milton in English, we should always be mindful of 2 �the Latin or Greek, or sometimes even the English etymology of a French word. The grief is immeasurable-yet the comparison of the size of the griefs mirror, that is the stream, before and after it is swelled by her tears, suggests the possibility of measurement. Paradoxically, the word majeste (etymologically, "greatness") is applied to Andromache's widowhood, when she is no longer a queen. Although the mirror is "poor" and "sad," the majesty of the sorrows has some sort of splendor: resplendit is a strong word. A mirror should give back a faithful replica of the original; but this mirror seems to enhance what it contains. In all these ways and probably more, the conversational simplicity of the opening is deceptive; when we look carefully, the details of the first stanza qualify and complexify the apparently casual trimetre of the first line. I would like to add here that it is an enduring mystery to me, and I think it should be to all of us, that a great poem is an inexhaustible source of new insights. The more we look at the stanza, the more intricate and interesting it becomes. How is it possible to go on finding more, even after the fiftieth or five hundredth reading? Does the poem change because each reading of it changes us? In this way, the poem itself may be like Andromache's little river: We water it with our tears, it grows for us, and more splendor shows through it. The use of the trimetre is primarily identified with one romantic poet, the most important literary figure in France at the time of the poem's writing: Victor Hugo, who is also the object of the poem's dedication. I say "the most important figure in France," but in fact at that time Hugo was not in France. He was on the isle of Guernsey, in political exile-a fact which is crucial for the poem. Perhaps the meter of the first line obliquely implies that the speaker is "thinking" not only of Andromache, but also of Hugo. Does he mean to suggest some sort of identification between them? We shall see this kind of 3 �indirection repeated in the poem; to think of one thing is to think of another, or of many others. Apparently distinct images are conflated, and each one seems to awaken a series of connections that is finally open-ended. The speaker is "thinking of' a literary character; in the course of the poem, this act of thinking will be extended to countless other characters, people, and animals. We will have to wonder what kind of thinking it is. Should we consider the poem a specimen of the stream of consciousness, an exercise in the association of ideas, or a Proustian study of involuntary memory? Can we reconstruct the order that leads the speaker to think of Andromache? We learn almost immediately that he refers not to the Andromache of the Iliad, nor to the Andromaque of Racine's great play. In its first publication, Baudelaire's poem bore a Latin epigraph: falsi Simoentis ad undam, "to the wave of the false Simols" (Aeneid III. 302); but even without the epigraph, several of the details of this first stanza make it clear that we are to think of an episode in Book III of Vergil's Aeneid. Aeneas and his followers have fled from burning Troy and wandered for an unspecified period of time in the Eastern Mediterranean. They land at Buthrotum, on the western coast of the Greek peninsula, near the island of Corcyra. There they learn that Andromache has come, after her enslavement by Pyrrus (also known as Neoptolemus), the son of her husband's slayer Achilles. She has been cast off and given to a new husband: Helenus, a militarily undistinguished son of Priam who has also been made a slave. Together they have built a miniature replica of Troy there on the coast of Epirus, and there they stay, almost in suspended animation, mourning the past that is gone. In Vergil's poem the episode serves as one of a number of false starts for Aeneas and the Trojans. They too must build a new city, a home to replace the Troy from which history has exiled them; but successive prophecies make it clear that they cannot simply 4 �dwell in the past. It is their fate and their burden to create a city that is both old and new, inaugurating a new era in human history. The pathos of Andromache, brooding over her memories, is a kind of trap; she is stuck in a false replica of her past happiness. The theme of building, or rebuilding, recurs in Vergil's poem. Before he flees from Troy, Aeneas is shown a mysterious vision of the gods tearing down the city's walls: He sees that the city's destruction is an unalterably fated historical necessity. After he leaves Epirus, Aeneas is driven by storm to the coast of Carthage, where he sees Dido's Tyrians building a new city. In longing for his old home and the new one so far in the future, Aeneas exclaims, 0 fortunati, quorum iam moenia surgunt! ("Fortunate those whose walls are already rising," Aeneid I.437). Later, in Book IV, Jupiter through his emissary Mercury will scold Aeneas for helping to build those same walls, the citadel of what will be Rome's arch-foe. Once again, as in Troy, he must forsake what he loves and abandon Dido in favor of the grim uncertainties of his Roman future. Again in Book VIII, when Aeneas and King Evander visit the site where Rome is destined to be, the poet shows us a vision of the new city, glorious in shining marble, rising in speech from its present humble origins. The present is almost illusory; what is more real is the beauty of Rome's idealized future. Yet for Aeneas, that future is impossibly remote; we are told that he will not live to see the walls of his true city rise. Part of the mood of grave melancholy that suffuses Vergil's great poem comes from the sense that fulfillment is not possible in the here and now; it is an ever-receding goal, a memory of what is lost or a glimpse of an unattainable future. Clearly it is a matter of some importance in the Aeneid what walls are built, when and where and by whom. So we must wonder when the speaker of Baudelaire's poem moves from the Vergilian Andromache to the subject of cities being destroyed and 5 �reconstructed. The new Place du Carrousel of line 6 is a part of Baron Haussmann' s vast project of urban renewal in the Paris of the 1850's. "The old Paris is no more!" In the third stanza we are given a vivid picture, in the mind's eye, of the fragmentation and dislocation during the building process. Rough-hewn capitals and shafts, the neoclassical pillars of the new Paris that will be, are heaped among the debris of the old. Little neighborhoods, huddled cozily together, must give way to imposing new squares and boulevards, wider and more vast, built in a neoclassical style reminiscent of the rebuilding of Rome by Augustus in Vergil's own time. (Augustus, it was said, "found Rome clay and left it marble.") There is much that may seem attractive about this building project. Like Washington, D.C, rising majestically out of a malarial swamp, Haussmann's building plan radiates all the confidence of the Enlightenment in the possibility of new beginnings. We remember Descartes, in the Discourse on Method, claiming that the spontaneous jumble of the old city of the mind must be razed to the ground in order to start over in a truly rational way. The Parisian project had been commissioned by Louis Napoleon, who had taken the title of Emperor Napoleon III. One of his first statements, after assuming the imperial throne, was that he wanted to be a new Augustus-to leave Paris marble. Yet many contemporary observers spoke negatively of the Haussmannisation - the Haussmannization--of Paris. Psychologically, its effect was to make the city less of a community, more depersonalized, more alienating, more of a spectacle. As might also have been said of the Augustan building plan, Louis' intentions were materially progressive but politically reactionary. Part of the point was to get the volatile, politicized poor people out of the city center, and by widening the streets to make them harder to barricade, as had been done in recent uprisings. Then, as now, "urban renewal" 6 �was also "urban removal." Apart from the political aspects of Haussman's project, the Emperor hoped to inherit some of the imperial grandeur of his great-uncle Napoleon I, the real Emperor. Louis, like the false SimoYs, is only a simulacrum, an inadequate substitute; among other protesters, Victor Hugo was exiled for saying so. In spite of all the neoclassical architecture, or perhaps because of it, there is a modem tawdriness to the new Paris, at least for Baudelaire. How would he have reacted if he could have known that in the first few years of our twenty-first century, that same Place du Carrousel would become the site of an underground shopping mall? At this point in our reading, we may think that the building theme is the precise associative link that causes the speaker to think of Andromache. Like Andromache's replica of Troy, Haussmann's building offers a false image of the past. Paris is not Rome, as the replica is not Troy; the sterility of Haussmann's neoclassicizing does not meet our human needs: La forme d 'une ville Change plus vile, helas! que le coeur d 'un mortel. (lines 7-8) But tonally, the analogy is not quite right. Andromache mourns over a likeness that seeks to preserve what is past and gone. Haussman's old/new constructions do not seek to preserve the speaker's precious memories; rather, they have displaced and supplanted them. Andromache's building project, while misguided, is an act oflove and of solidarity with the past; the same cannot be said for Haussmann. The poem carries us further in search of the image that prompted the thought of Andromache. And thus, circuitously, we arrive at the swan. 7 �At one place later in the poem-lines 36-7-the speaker seems to make it explicit that his thought of Andromache had been prompted by the image of the swan: Aussi devant ce Louvre une image m 'opprime: Je pense amon grand cygne, avec ses gestes fous, Comme des exiles, ridicule et sublime Et range d'un desir sans treve! et puis avous, Andromaque ... And before this Louvre, an image oppresses me: I think of my great swan, with his crazed gestures, Ridiculous and sublime, as exiles are, And gnawed by a ceaseless desire! And then of you, Andromague ... [emphasis mine] If we take this statement as definitive, perhaps we could reconstruct the sequence of associations somewhat like this: The speaker is crossing the Place du Carrousel, the area between the Louvre and the Tuileries Gardens, sometime in the late 1850's. As a selfstyled "dandy" andjldneur, he is a habitue of the streets and the squares of Paris. The Louvre too is a familiar haunt for him; he is an art critic-when he is working, that isand his descriptions in this poem bespeak a painterly eye. The Carrousel is "new" because it was newly rebuilt as the very first part of Haussmann' s project (begun in 1853, though the dismantling of the buildings on the old square had begun even in the 1830's). The poem's speaker remembers, without much fondness, the intermediate period of construction, as he recounts in the third stanza. Even before then, more than ten years before, when "the old Paris" still was, the area had been filled with the booths of petty tradesman. The little zoo from which the swan escaped was part of the motleyness of that landscape. It was then, on a cold clear morning, that he saw the swan; and that pathetic vision prompted the thought of Andromache then, or prompts it now. 8 �Visually, Andromache and the swan have little in common: She is bent downward, "hunched in ecstasy" over Hector's cenotaph, weeping into the little stream of the false Simors. Though normally a swan's head would curve gracefully downward, this swan twitches nervously and stretches his head upwards, "like the man in Ovid." In Book I of the Metamorphoses, Ovid tells us that at the creation, man was made with upright posture, in the gods' image, so that he could look up and view the heavens. It is notable that Ovid's man looks up in proud recognition and praise; the passage was much admired by the Renaissance Humanists as an emblem of human dignity. In contrast, the swan looks up frantically in an attitude of desperation and reproach. But elsewhere in Ovid's poem, there is no lack of figures that reproach the gods for injustice-and some of them are talking animals, or humans metamorphosed into animals. No fewer than three of Ovid's characters are named Cygnus or Cycnus, "swan" in Latin from the Greek KUKVoc;, and are eventually transformed into that bird. The first of these (in Met. IL36780) is a dear friend of Phaethon who pines away in grief after the boy's fall from the sun god's chariot. After graphically describing the transformation of Cygnus into an ugly, ungainly new bird, Ovid comments: fit nova Cygnus avis nee se caeloque Jovique tradit, ut iniuste missi memor ignis ab illo; stagna petit patulosque lacus ignemque perosus quae colat elegit contraria flumina flammis. He becomes a new bird, a swan; nor does he entrust himself to the sky and Jove, remembering the fiery thunderbolt unjustly hurled by him (at Phaethon); he seeks out ponds and wide lakes, and hating fire, he chooses water, fire's opposite, for his abode. (Metamorphoses II. 377-380) Although Baudelaire is unambiguous about his source in Ovid's Book I, several of the details in this passage in Book II seem to fit well with the description of the swan in the 9 �French poem-not only the grotesquerie, the pathos, and the profusion of vivid details in the physical description, but the connection of the swan with water, and his implied reproach of a god's injustice. So Baudelaire seems to have made a rather complex literary allusion: The local reference to Metamorphoses I.85-6 blurs into the passage from Book II, and thence into a more general recollection of the poem and even of its author-for Ovid too was an exile. Perhaps that is why he is mentioned by name, unlike Vergil and the other authors alluded to in the text. Or perhaps Baudelaire's leamedsounding footnote reference to Ovid is ironic; we should be suspicious ofall this literariness. If the swan does not look like Andromache, he resembles her in other ways. He has "escaped from his cage" but he is still a captive of his new environment, far from his natural home. Andromache has been freed from immediate servitude by the death of her captor Pyrrhus, but she is still a prisoner of her widowhood and the loss of Troy. The swan is referred to as la bete (line 20); in spite of his apparent possession of logos, he is a brute beast. Andromache's slavery has made her into a vii betail, a lowly chattel-an English word related to "cattle," as betail is related to bete. Her mute misery has made her into something like a dumb animal. We remember the speaker's passing comment: "The form of a city changes more quickly, alas! Than the heart of a mortal" (II. 7-8, my emphasis). There are mortals who are not humans, the swan for instance. Later in the poem, we see other animals: The list of exiles alluded to includes Romulus and Remus, who were cast out as infants and supposedly suckled by a benevolent she-wolf (line 49), as Livy and Plutarch tell us. Other orphans dry out like flowers (l. 48), while there are those who are watered with tears (l.46). Evidently the metamorphoses of sorrow can even make us into plants, as well as animals. 10 �Judging from Part II, we have been supposing that the association of ideas has led the poem's speaker from his recollection of seeing the swan to thinking of the literary figure of Andromache. But the opposite movement-from Andromache to the swanseems to be implied in the very first stanza: The little stream of the false Simols has quickened, made fecund, the already fertile memory of the speaker. This act of insemination seems to introduce the recollections of the construction site of a few years before and of the old Paris, a few years before that. The poem goes out of its way to take us from Andromache to the swan, rather than the other way around. It is only in the second part that we go from the Louvre to the swan to Andromache. Does the sequence of associations matter? It does seem to matter to Baudelaire; he emphasizes it, even though he seems to contradict himself. The swan is at the center of the poem, a mythe etrange et fatal, and the sight of him makes interpretive demands on the speaker and on us. There is a grand rhetorical build-up leading to the bird's appearance. Starting from line l 3: Las 'etalaitjadis une menagerie; La je vis, un matin, a l 'heure OU sous !es cieu:x: Froids et clairs le Travails 'eveille, ou la voirie Pousse un sombre ouragan dans I 'air silencieux Un cygne ... (ll.13-17) Notice the sound effects of the first line. The word etalait, "displayed" or "spread out," is itself splayed,_spread out by the metre, as are the four-syllable words menagerie and silencieu:x:. (Baudelaire, like so many other great poets, is a virtuoso at using polysyllabic words. An analogous case in English would be Marvell's wonderful lines, "My vegetable love would grow" and "Deserts of vast eternity.") The wordjadis, which was also used in the first stanza, is a fancy, literary word, an old-fashioned word. I rendered 11 �it as "long ago," but perhaps a better translation might be "in days of yore"; we think of Villon's great poem, "Balade des dames du temps Jadis," with its famous refrain, "Where are the snows of yesteryear?" The archaic diction gives a kind of narrative dignity to the occasion. (C.S. Lewis was playing on these connotations when he used the wordjadis as the proper name for the White Witch ofNamia; unfortunately, in Anglicized pronunciation, it tends to come out sounding rather like "Gladys.") After this first line, we get the anaphoric repetition of La, and thenje vis, "I saw," using the passe simple, the past definite or the historical past, a formal tense not used in conversation. Other than here, the poem uses this tense only in the first stanza, in recounting Andromache's plight. The tale of seeing of the swan has become a momentous narrative, even a heroic one. The elaborate parenthetical characterization of the time of the day becomes almost like one of Homer's long-tailed similes. Travail is capitalized to drive it home that we are in the realm of allegorical personifications; and the road-gang, the early morning streetsweepers, are given an epic dignity with their dark hurricane of dust. Yet the prosaic word voirie strains against the ostentatious literariness of its context. (Walter Benjamin uses voirie as an example in claiming that Baudelaire was the first French poet to use the lowly, anti poetic diction of urban grunge, of the humbler parts of the life of the city.) All this while, the syntax of the sentence has been put on hold: We are still waiting, even into the enjambment between the stanzas, for an object for the verb vis. Finally and melodramatically, the swan appears. As we are told at the beginning of Part II, tout pour moi devient allegorie. These sudden, visionary encounters in the streets of Paris are meaningful-they signify things beyond themselves. Hence the notorious pun in the poem's title: cygne, C-Y-G-N-E, "swan," is indistinguishable, when pronounced, from signe, S-1-G-N-E, "sign." If Paris is 12 �a wilderness in which exiles wander, it is full of symbols and signs, like the temple of nature in Baudelaire's poem Correspondances. The narrator is like a prophet in the desert; an image is imparted to him which "oppresses" or even obsesses him, and he must give it voice. The swan, too, seems to be seeking for a sign in asking for the rain to rain and the lightning to roar. Signs are fertile; they evoke imaginings and memories. They have a private or hidden symbolic significance. Yet the words "myth" and "allegory" implicitly give a public character to the meaning of the sign of the swan. Le Cygne is one of a series of poems, in the larger volume of Les Fleurs du ma!, that have the subtitle, Tableaux Parisiens- "Parisian sketches," "scenes," "landscapes," "portraits," or "pictures." Within that subsection, it is the first of a group of four poems that focus on figures that are part of the street life of Paris. The first three are all dedicated to Victor Hugo. The second one tells of a nightmarish, visionary encounter with seven identically hideous, diabolical old men. It is this poem that begins with the lines that so fascinated T.S. Eliot: Fourmillante cite, cite pleine de reves, Ou le spectre en pleinjour raccroche le passant! Teeming city, city full of dreams, Where spectres in broad daylight accost the passerby! The city, where we walk alone and anonymous, presents spectacles that are wonderful and terrible. Baudelaire is the quintessential poet of the city, which accounts for much of his uncanny modernity. Like Dickens, the great novelist of urban life, he portrays the vast metropolis as an infernal region whose denizens lose their humanity; they become machines or monsters. At times the speaker of these poems seems to be a voyeur or a sensationalist, seeking out degradation, pathos and despair. The third and fourth poems that are grouped with Le Cygne show us their speakers seeking out grotesques to gaze 13 �upon in fascination: Little old ladies who walk alone, each with a story that we will never know, or blind men, sleepwalking their way through spaces that remain inscrutable to them. In these cases, the signs remain untranslated; their power lies in their very otherness, their mystery. But this poem goes beyond sensationalism or voyeurism: the other must not remain alien. We must take ownership of it, interpret it, identify with it. Hence we are offered a number of possible ways to make some translation, some public sense of the sign of the swan. First, and inevitably, it must be said that birds in general and the swan in particular provide a venerable image of the poet. In Republic X, the Myth of Er, the archpoet Orpheus chooses for his next life the form of a swan (620 A). (It's true, however, that at Phaedo 84E Socrates uses the swan's song to represent prophecy, rather than poetry.) Vergil was often referred to as "the swan of Mantua," and Ben Jonson apostrophizes Shakespeare as "sweet swan of Avon." Both birds and bards sing, of course, and perhaps equally importantly, they both fly. Socrates says in the Ion that a poet is a light thing and a winged and holy one (534B). Poetic inspiration must seem to be like flying, taking the singer closer to the heavens; perhaps this resemblance is the source of Baudelaire's poem Elevation. We might also think of Milton's adventurous song, That with no middle flight intends to soar Above the Aonian mount, while it pursues . Things unattempted yet in prose or rhyme. (Paradise Lost, I. 13-16). For the swan in particular,we may refer, among other ancient sources, to Horace's Ode 11.20. Here, in the climactic last ode of the second book, the poet prophesies that he will never die; rather he will be transformed into a swan, soaring across vast distances. 14 �All of these literary swans assert the power of poetry to triumph over time and even death. They are images of ideality, pure and beautiful. And it is an indication of poetry's power over us that we do often, even usually, think of swans as beautiful birds, elegant and dignified, suited to poetic elevation. Baudelaire's great successor Mallarme appeals almost exclusively to this tradition in a famous sonnet (Le vierge, le vivace, et le bel aujourd 'hui) which is an obvious hommage to his master, Baudelaire. In it Mallarme portrays a doomed swan as frozen in a beautiful, clear, reflective lake of ice. Valery, too, among many other poets, uses the figure of the swan repeatedly to represent the ideal of la poesie pure, "pure poetry". Sometimes that ideal is challenged by the physical world; not all bird-poets are presented to us as soaring in flight. In one of his best-known poems, Baudelaire offers a memorable picture of the poet as an albatross trapped on the deck of a ship, where his huge awkward wings and ungainly gait make him an object of derision for the sailors. His native element is the air; there he is sublime (he "haunts the tempest"), but when earth-bound he is ridiculous. But once again, there seems to be a certain cognitive dissonance between literary tradition and our actual, concrete experience. As everyone knows, real swans are not particularly known for their prowess either in singing or in flying, as Ovid points out in his tale of Cygnus. Baudelaire's swan can do neither. Reminiscent of the albatross, he is described as comme les exiles, ridicule et sublime (line 35). His native element is not air but water, his beau lac natal (line 22). The unfriendly environment in which he is trapped is dry above all; the only tempest is a hurricane of dust raised by the sweepers. In that same dust he nervously "bathes" his wings, next to a stream without water. Here is another dissimilarity with Andromache: Her false Simoi"s is a real stream, at least, one which is swollen by her tears. That same stream makes fertile the speaker's memory: Is 15 �there a suggestion here of poetic inspiration? Not only do poets fly; they drink from the sacred springs of Parnassus and Helicon. The swan, ironically, is inspired to speech, if not to song, by the absence of water: Eau, quand done pleuvras-tu? Quand tonneras-tu, foudre? ). That line of speech-the swan's swan song, if you will-is metrically ugly, for dramatic purposes, but almost frantically over-rhetorical, as well as meteorologically confusing: It becomes ridiculous by straining towards the poetical sublime. Baudelaire is an ironic risk-taker here, mocking his own classical and formal bent. Perhaps it is important that despite our experience, we normally think of swans as beautiful birds, Even though there is little of this dignity in the bird that we see in Baudelaire's poem, we are meant to feel that his awkwardness here does not fully define him. How different the poem would feel if it were entitled "The Duck" or "The Goose"! The image that we actually see of the swan here is conflated with a literary tradition of sublime swans, and both images are Le Cygne. In this sense too, the swan points beyond himself, as the punning title says. The beautiful, poetically traditional swan is both present and absent. Baudelaire both affirms and subverts that tradition, and the power of poetry itself. I hope no one is surprised or disappointed to find that this poem, like most poems, is at least partly about poetry. It is as a poet that Baudelaire identifies with the albatross. May it not be as a poet that the speaker identifies with the swan? Both are exiles, like Andromache, Ovid and Victor Hugo. But unlike the swan, the speaker seems to be inspired and nourished by his sorrow. The thought of Vergil's poem makes him fertile. Perhaps he is one of those who are suckled by Sorrow, the good she-wolf. Like Andromache, too, he is an imitator: His memories make sad little replicas of his 16 �cherished past, little mirrors held up to nature. For Baudelaire as for Hesiod, recollection is an image of poetic inspiration; Memory is the mother of the Muses. In the second part of the poem, the speaker's "thinking" moves from the Louvre to the swan to Andromache. The movement seems to be away from physical experience, toward the recollection of poetic allusions; the poem is on the verge of becoming merely litterature. And indeed, the most flowery and self-consciously poetic moment in the poem comes at the third stanza of the second part (lines 37-40), with its classical parallelisms and theatrical declamation: Veuve d'Hector, helas! et femme d'Helenus! Many of the more old-fashioned commentators on Le Cygne, especially the French ones, have singled this stanza out for special praise, as a kind of emotional climax of the poem. But they are misreading it, I think. The true climax is in the shock of the real, in the next stanza. The speaker's "thinking" moves from Andromache to the unforgettable portrait of the tubercular black woman-apparently another chance meeting in the Paris streets, like the swan. In one limited way, this stanza is another literary quotation-not of Virgil or Ovid, but of Baudelaire himself. Just as the swan is a recension of his earlier image of the albatross, the portrayal of the black woman revisits an earlier poem entitled A une Malabaraise- "To a Girl of Malabar." In it, Baudelaire extols the grace and ease of the Malabar girl as she appears in her native country, lazily sensuous and devoted to her master. He implores her not to want to go to visit France, where she will only find cold, fog and isolation. Now, in Le Cygne, he imagines the fulfillment of that prophecy of future deracination and exile. Baudelaire may be quoting himself, but the picture we see does not feel like a literary stereotype or an exercise in intertextuality: Je pense ala negresse, amaigrie et phtisique, Pietinant dans la boue, et cherchant, l 'oeil hagard, Les cocotiers absents de la superbe Afrique Derriere la muraille immense du brouillard. 17 �The harsh, brittle alliterations of pense, pietinant, and phtisique recall the jerky motions of the swan. The black woman searches "with haggard eye"-etymologically, an image drawn from falconry. As Othello says of Desdemona, If I do prove her haggard, Though that her jesses were my dear heartstrings, I'd whistle her off and let her down the wind To prey at fortune. (IIl.3.260-3) The black woman's eye is keen, but wild-either because it is not domesticated, in the older sense of the word, or because it has been made wild by suffering and deprivation, in the modern, transferred usage. The object of the eye's search is expressed in a magnificent line of classic balance and self-containedness: /es cocotiers absents de la superbe Afrique. The chiastic structure-noun-adjective-adjective-noun-seems to wall the beautiful coconut palms off from the haggard, searching eye. The nouns are specific: not just palms but coconut-palms, not just the tropics but Africa. But both the adjectives are oddly abstract: And why "proud Africa"? The same epithet was given to Pyrrhus in just the previous stanza. The trees are called absents, but in context the epithet does not quite make sense. The black woman does not seek the palm trees as "absent"; her hope is to find them as present. The metrical caesura after the word gives us this paradox; but if we run through the caesura and take de as "from," governed by absents, we get a different possibility: The trees she is seeking would be absent from Africa in order to be present in Paris. This makes a certain kind of sense, even if farfetched; except that it is surreal to think of the trees as having moved from Africa to Paris. Nonetheless, we seem to see the trees even though they are absents: Memory and longing give a presence even to absence. The imagination has this power to give a being to nothing. 18 �The last line of the stanza is astonishingly onomatopoetic: Derriere la muraille immense du brouillard There are three "y" sounds, each a semivowel acting as a bridge between vowels that have been crammed into a woozy, destabilizing vowel-hiatus. Like many Europeans, the French do not like two vowel sounds in succession; normally the French language avoids vowel hiatus by the practices of elision and liaison. Like the fog, the line is palpable, yet shapeless-it lacks consonantal definition. Almost all the consonants we do have are liquids-r's, l's and nasals. They make us feel the dank moisture of the vast fog bank. The wall of fog is more literally immeasurable- immense-than the majesty of Andromache's grief in the first stanza. For Baudelaire, as for T.S. Eliot or Arthur Conan Doyle, fog and smoke make the modem city-dweller isolated and anonymous, trapped in his lonely modem consciousness, moving through the dark, infernal regions of Paris or London. We remember the somber hurricane of the street sweepers, at line 16. But there, for the swan, the city was too dry and dusty-Here, for the black woman, it is too wet and chilly. (Ice, as well as fire, appears in Dante's hell.) Each of these elements-earth, air, and water-serves as a kind of prison for an exile far from home. Dryness might seem to be the more primal, archetypal image-a lack of fertility or nourishment, as in Eliot's Waste Land. But the example of the black woman shows us that absence and exile can be either wet or dry, hot or cold. The themes of moisture and nourishment are developed in the next stanza, the last but one in the poem. The speaker thinks of those who "nourish themselves with tears" and "suck the breasts of Sorrow." How can tears and sorrow nourish them? The milk from the breasts of sorrow might be thought to make us even dryer-sadder, more desolate, exiled in more of a waste land-just as a wolf would seem to be an unhealthy wet nurse for human infants. Yet, through some homeopathic mystery, Sorrow is its own 19 �solace and salt tears fertilize the dry ground. The speaker of the poem seems to welcome the sorrow that he shares, vicariously, with Andromache, the swan and the black woman. For him, at least, the role of "exile" seems almost to be assumed voluntarily. There is an ambiguity in the use of the reflexive at line 49: Ainsi, dans la Jaret ou mon esprits 'exile ... [ emphasis mine] Although the normal reading would be as I have translated it, in the passive sense ("my mind is exiled"), it is possible to read this phrase as "my mind exiles itself." Victor Hugo, by this time, was actually a voluntary exile; he had contemptuously refused an amnesty offered him by Louis Napoleon. And Baudelaire himself often seems to be selfexiled, to be his own victim. When he speaks in longing of a tropical paradise now lost, we remember in spite of ourselves that in life rather than art, his only exposure to the tropics was far from idyllic. At the age of twenty, having already shown himself to be a wastrel and an idler, Baudelaire was packed off by his stepfather to India, to serve in the colonial administration. But he got off the boat at the first available island, Mauritius, and took the next ship he could get back to Paris. So much for his longing for the sun on the sea. The tropics for which he yearned were not to be found in this world. This image of Baudelaire as a self-indulgent romantic, choking on his own selfpity, may be the one that some students take away from their sustained encounter with Les Fleurs du Mal. At his worst, he can certainly seem this way. But it seems important that in his unremitting self-scrutiny, he was fully and ironically aware of the indignity of his romantic stance. In Le Cygne, for example, the speaker associates himself with the exile of the swan after having characterized exiles as both ridicuous and sublime. 20 �Baudelaire presents himself as resembling the nervous, convulsively twitching swan or the ungainly albatross, a grotesque figure indulging in incongruously lofty flights of rhetoric. He might even claim that the duality of ridiculous and sublime, of Spleen and Ideal, is a general human trait, common to all those who long for beauty or who pine for home. Perhaps the clearest statement of Baudelaire's aesthetic theory is in Le Peintre de la vie moderne ("The Painter of Modem Life") an essay on the work of the artist Constantin Guys. Here Baudelaire asserts: Beauty is always and inevitably of a double composition. although the impression it produces is single ... [It] is made up of an eternal, invariable element, whose quantity it is excessively difficult to determine, and of a relative, circumstantial element, which will be ... the age, its fashions, its morals, its emotions ... The eternal part of beauty will be veiled and expressed if not by fashion, at least by the particular temperament of the artist. The duality of art is a fatal consequence of the duality of man. Consider, if you will the eternally subsisting part as the soul of art, and the variable element as its body ... [The artist] is looking for that quality which you must allow me to call 'modernity' ... He makes it his business to extract from fashion whatever element it may contain of poetry within history, to distil the 1 eternal from the transitory. [The Painter of Modem Life, tr. Jonathan Mayne, pp. 3, 12) The experience of the artist is a heightened or intensified version of common human experience-the experience of "fatal duality." If we want to be schematic, we can make a table of dichotomies that correspond to this duality": Ideal Classic Soul Sublime Elevation versus versus versus versus versus Spleen Romantic Body Ridiculous Depression, or ironic disillusionment 21 �The Eternal Home There Past (or some indefinite future) Then versus versus versus versus versus the Transitory Exile Here Present Now. The "fatal duality" may be seen as a psychological or a spiritual condition; Baudelaire would probably attribute it to the Fall of Adam and Eve. We might infer that we are all self-exiled. I want to focus especially on the last item in my schematic list- "Then versus Now"-because it returns us to the theme of memory. Memory is mentioned four times explicitly in Le Cygne (at lines 5, 32, 49 and 51); but of course it is one of Baudelaire' s great subjects, one to which he returns obsessively. By my count, at least a third of his lyric poems refer to memory, and many of these take it as a principal subject, including such masterpieces as La Vie anterieure, La Chevelure, Harmonie du Soir, Le Ba/con, Une Charogne, Le Voyage, Recueillement. I call your attention especially to the remarkable (and unjustly neglected) second poem of the four which are entitled Spleen ; its first line is J 'ai plus de souvenirs que si j 'avais mi/le ans-" I have more memories than if I were a thousand years old" (LXXV). In that poem there is a striking moment where the complex relation between poety and memory is adumbrated. The speaker says: Je suis un cimetiere abhorre de la lune, Ou comme des remords se trainent de longs vers Qui s 'acharnent toujours sur mes marts /es plus chers. I am a cemetery abhorred by the moon, Where like gnawing regrets, long worms drag themselves, Battening always upon my most dear dead. ( LXXV. 8-10) Here the speaker is wholly constituted of his memories, which both make him and unmake him. Through a darkly brilliant pun-vers can mean both "worms" and verses22 �he suggests that poetry is somehow parasitic upon our cherished memories. It is poetry that sucks at the breast of sorrow. In "The Swan," our memories are less destructive-regret, not remorse, is the rule here-but also less available to us. Memory is a locus of unattainable desires, of that which is lost and which can never be regained. We are forever and necessarily drawn toward the beauty and ideality of our memories, which enable our imaginations to transcend for a short while the oppression and the ugliness of the present. Thus they are a source of joy, but also of pain. Our regret for what is lost may also be a kind of guilty remorse for our failure to hold on to what was better; but finally the past is better because it is not now. Similarly in Le Voyage, the long last poem of Les Fleurs du Mal, the destination of the voyage is glamorized by remoteness. Once it is attained, it is found to be insufficient, and a new goal is proposed. A recollection or an anticipated goal is the presence of absence, the being of non-being. In Le Cygne it is epitomized by an empty tomb, a spring without water, the absent coconut palms. Andromache's ecstasy as she hunches before the tomb is also an absence; in a sense she is absent from herself. Time and change steal us from ourselves continually. In its riddling duality memory ' epitomizes human finitude, the paradox of our time-bound existence. Because we all have pasts which are unattainable, we are all in some sense exiles or captives, marooned on the island of the present, lost in its dark forest or trapped in its dry, dusty streets. This universality accounts for the widening circle of reference in the last two stanzas of "The Swan." Here, Baudelaire's speaker is not bemoaning some private grief. From the heaviness of his own memories, his own unbudging melancholy, he reaches out toward nameless hosts of others with sorrows of their own. Like him, they are nourished 23 �by their sorrow; we all feed on our pasts. The catalogue of those objects of his "thinking" is open-ended: The poem's daring last line gives a kind of gravitas to a vague, conversational gesture of inclusion. "Thinking" is no longer a mere exercise in the association of ideas; now it is a moral activity, an active sympathy and concern for all private human pain, a kind of charity. In its outward voyaging, the thinking of the speaker conflates the swan with the two women, Trojan and African; with the banished poets, Roman Ovid and French Hugo; with wandering founders of cities, Aeneas and Romulus, both founders of the same archetypal city which must be ever rebuilt; and finally with the doomed hero Roland at Roncevaux, blowing out a clarion blast on his horn. The grand allusive sweep of the poem makes it into another instance of epic, like those to which it alludes. The image of Roland's horn in the last stanza raises a number of questions. Like so many of the presences in the poem, it is a literary allusion, and doubly so: not only to the Chanson de Roland, "The Song of Roland," the great French medieval epic, but to a more recent poem, Le Cor ("The Hom") by the romantic poet Alfred de Vigny, which retells Roland's story. Roland is the great champion of the Emperor Charlemagne_ who with a small group of knights forms a rear guard to screen the passage of the Christian army in the pass of Roncevaux. Through an act of treachery they are surrounded by an overwhelming horde of Saracens and, after a gallant defense, annihilated. Roland, the last to fall, sounds his horn to call for help, but only when it is useless; Charlemagne and the Christian army arrive too late. As Vigny tells it, the melancholy sound of the hunter's horn in the wood begets a haunting but fascinating memory of Roland's fate. As in so many cases in Baudelaire's poem, what seems at first to be a mere literary allusion bursts the bounds of art and lays hold of our hearts and our memories. The poem itself is the 24 �speaker' s full blast of the horn. It summons us to think and feel for the pain of others, and to connect it with our own sorrows. Like Roland, we are all doomed-Time, the Enemy, devours our lives-but in our thinking beyond ourselves, we build a different kind of city. In one sense we are all marooned sailors, isolated and forgotten; in our modem plight it seems to us that every man is an island. But here, as seldom happens in Baudelaire's poems, the activities of memory and imagination can recall us from our exile. The sailors are mentioned as "forgotten" in the speaker's very act ofremembering them. The "others" of the last line are only other- alien- to us until we particularize them; in the act of "thinking," we bind them to ourselves. I suspect a kind of bilingual pun in the poem's last word, encor: might it not also suggest en coeur, "in the heart"? If so, this mortal's heart has changed along with the form of the city. The swan, so clinically described in the first part as a prodigy or a spectacle, becomes mon grand cygne, "my great swan." In this act of ownership, the poem' s speaker imagines a community, a fellowship of feeling that reaches across barriers of place and time, ofrace and gender and species. And in doing so, he gives the lie to his claim that his melancholy has not budged. By the poem's end, he-and we-have come a long way. "Thinking" as the poem portrays it, is one of the highest human activities. It is a combination of imagination, empathy, heroic solidarity, and perhaps even love; and through it we seem at times to transcend our human limitations. Andromache, we think of you, and we are redeemed. *********** 25 �Le Cygne The Swan A Victor Hugo Andromaque,je pense a vous! Ce petit fleuve, Pauvre et triste miroir ou jadis resplendit L' immense majeste de vos douleurs de veuve, Ce SimoTs menteur qui par vos pleurs grand it, A feconde soudain ma memoire fertile, Comme je traversais le nouveau Carrousel. Le vieux Paris n'est plus (la forme d'une ville Change plus vite, helas! que le coeur d'un mortel); For Victor Hugo 4 Andromache, I'm thinking of you! That little river, Poor, sad mirror where long ago there shone The immense majesty of your widow's sorrows, That lying Simo"is which grew by your tears, 8 Suddenly made fecund my fertile memory, As I was crossing the new Place du Carrousel. The old Paris is no more (the form ofa city Changes more quickly, alas! than the heart of a mortal); Jene vois qu'en esprit tout ce camp de baraques, Ces tas de chapiteaux ebauches et de fOts, Les herbes, les gros blocs verdis par l'eau des flaques, Et, brillant aux carreaux, le bric-a-brac confus. 12 La s'etalaitjadis une menagerie; Laje vis, un matin, a l'heure ou sous les cieux Froids et clairs le Travail s'eveille, ou la voirie Pousse un sombre ouragan dans I' air silencieux, 16 Un cygne qui s'etait evade de sa cage, Et, de ses pieds palmes frottant le pave sec, Sur le sol raboteux tralnait son blanc plumage. Pres d'un ruisseau sans eau la bete ouvrant le bee 20 Baignait nerveusement ses ailes dans la poudre, Et disait, le coeur plein de son beau lac natal: «Eau, quand done pleuvras-tu? quand tonneras-tu, foudre?» Je vois ce malheureux, mythe etrange et fatal, 24 Vers le ciel quelquefois, comme l'homme d'Ovide, Vers le ciel ironique et cruellement bleu, Sur son cou convulsif tendant sa tete avide, Comme s'il adressait des reproches a Dieu! 28 Only in my mind ' s eye do I see that camp of huts, Those heaps of rough-hewn capitals and shafts, The weeds, the great marble blocks made green by the water of the puddles, And shining on the paving stones, the jumbled debris. There, long ago, a little zoo was displayed; There I saw, one morning, at the hour when under Cold, clear skies Labor awakens, when the street sweepers Push a dark hurricane through the silent air, A swan, which had escaped from his cage, And, with his webbed feet scratching the dry pavement, Dragged his white plumes on the uneven ground. Near a waterless spring the beast, opening his beak, Nervously bathed his wings in the dust, And said, with his heart full of his fair native lake, " Water, when will you rain? When will you thunder, lightning?" I see that unhappy one, strange, fate-bound myth, Toward the sky sometimes, like the man in Ovid, Toward the ironic sky, cruelly blue, On his convulsive neck stretching out his head in longing, As ifhe were addressing reproaches to God! �II Paris change! mais rien dans ma melancolie N'a bouge! palais neufs, echafaudages, blocs, Vieux faubourgs, tout pour moi devient allegorie, Et mes chers souvenirs sont plus lourds que des roes. Aussi devant ce Louvre une image m'opprime: Je pense a mon grand cygne, avec ses gestes fous, Comme les exiles, ridicule et sublime, Et ronge d'un desir sans treve! et puis a vous, Andromaque, des bras d'un grand epoux tombee, Vil betail, sous la main du superbe Pyrrhus, Aupres d'un tombeau vide en extase courbee; Veuve d'Hector, helas! et femme d'Helenus! Je pense a la negresse, amaigrie et phtisique, Pietinant dans la boue, et cherchant, l'reil hagard, Les cocotiers absents de la superbe Afrique Derriere la muraille immense du brouillard; A quiconque a perdu ce qui ne se retrouve Jamais,jamais! a ceux qui s' abreuvent de pleurs Et tetent la Douleur comme une bonne louve! Aux maigres orphelins sechant comrne des fleurs! Ainsi dans la foret ou mon esprit s'exile Un vieux Souvenir sonne a plein souffle du cor! Je pense aux matelots oublies dans une ile, Aux captifs, aux vaincus!. .. a bien d'autres encor! 32 Paris is changing! But nothing in my melancholy Has budged! New palaces, scaffolding, blocks, Old neighborhoods, everything becomes allegory to me, And my dear memories are heavier than stones. 36 And before this Louvre an image oppresses me: I think of my great swan, with his crazed gestures, Ridiculous and sublime, as exiles are, And gnawed by a ceaseless desire! And then of you, 40 Andromache, fallen from a great husband's arms, A lowly chattel, under the hand of proud Pyrrhus, Next to an empty tomb hunched in ecstasy, Widow of Hector, alas! and wife of Helenus! 44 I think of the black woman, thin and coughing, Stumping in the mud, and ~eeking with haggard eye The absent coconut-palms of proud Africa Beyond the immense wall of fog; 48 Of whoever has lost what is never to be found, Never! Of those who are nourished with tears And suck the breasts of Sorrow, as of a good she-wolf! Of thin orphans drying out like flowers! 52 Thus, in the forest where my mind is exiled, An old Memory sounds a full blast of the horn! I think of mariners, forgotten on an island, Of captives, of the vanquished!. .. of many others more! -Charles Baudelaire Les Fleurs du Mal, LXXXIX 1859 � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Description An account of the resource Items in this collection are part of a series of lectures given every year at St. John's College. During the Fall and Spring semesters, lectures are given on Friday nights. Items include audio and video recordings and typescripts.<br /><br />For more information, and a schedule of upcoming lectures, please visit the <strong><a href="http://www.sjc.edu/programs-and-events/annapolis/formal-lecture-series/" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">St. John's College website</a></strong>.  <br /><br />Click on <strong><a title="Formal Lecture Series" href="https://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/browse?collection=5&amp;sort_field=Dublin+Core%2CDate&amp;sort_dir=d">Items in the St. John's College Formal Lecture Series—Annapolis Collection</a></strong> to view and sort all items in the collection.<br /><br />A growing number of lecture recordings are also available on the St. John's College (Annapolis) Lectures podcast. Visit <a href="https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/st-johns-college-annapolis-lectures/id1695157772">Apple Podcasts</a> or <a href="https://open.spotify.com/show/6GDsIRqC8SWZ28AY72BsYM?si=f2ecfa9e247a456f" title="Spotify">Spotify</a> to listen and subscribe. Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource St. John's College Greenfield Library Title A name given to the resource St. John's College Formal Lecture Series—Annapolis Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context formallectureseriesannapolis Text A resource consisting primarily of words for reading. Examples include books, letters, dissertations, poems, newspapers, articles, archives of mailing lists. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre Text. Original Format The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data paper Page numeration Number of pages in the original item. 27 pages Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Baudelaire's Swan Song Description An account of the resource Typescript of a lecture delivered on October 13, 2006, by Jonathan Tuck as part of the Formal Lecture Series. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Tuck, Jonathan Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 2006-10-13 Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource St. John's College has been given permission to make this item available online. Type The nature or genre of the resource text Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource pdf Language A language of the resource English Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context lec Tuck 2006-10-13 Relation A related resource <a href="http://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/show/3800" title="Sound recording">Sound recording</a> Friday night lecture Tutors https://s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/sjcdigitalarchives/original/5f430d854a6e8f8acd322c5b7156a325.mp3 01de2a3916aeeef3c4951ce8d7796ba9 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Description An account of the resource Items in this collection are part of a series of lectures given every year at St. John's College. During the Fall and Spring semesters, lectures are given on Friday nights. Items include audio and video recordings and typescripts.<br /><br />For more information, and a schedule of upcoming lectures, please visit the <strong><a href="http://www.sjc.edu/programs-and-events/annapolis/formal-lecture-series/" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">St. John's College website</a></strong>.  <br /><br />Click on <strong><a title="Formal Lecture Series" href="https://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/browse?collection=5&amp;sort_field=Dublin+Core%2CDate&amp;sort_dir=d">Items in the St. John's College Formal Lecture Series—Annapolis Collection</a></strong> to view and sort all items in the collection.<br /><br />A growing number of lecture recordings are also available on the St. John's College (Annapolis) Lectures podcast. Visit <a href="https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/st-johns-college-annapolis-lectures/id1695157772">Apple Podcasts</a> or <a href="https://open.spotify.com/show/6GDsIRqC8SWZ28AY72BsYM?si=f2ecfa9e247a456f" title="Spotify">Spotify</a> to listen and subscribe. Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource St. John's College Greenfield Library Title A name given to the resource St. John's College Formal Lecture Series—Annapolis Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context formallectureseriesannapolis Sound A resource primarily intended to be heard. Examples include a music playback file format, an audio compact disc, and recorded speech or sounds. Original Format The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data audio cassette tape (Tape 708) Duration Length of time involved (seconds, minutes, hours, days, class periods, etc.) 00:59:00 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Baudelaire's Swan Song Description An account of the resource Audio recording of a lecture delivered on October 13, 2006, by Jonathan Tuck as part of the Formal Lecture Series. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Tuck, Jonathan Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 2006-10-13 Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource St. John's College has been given permission to make this item available online. Type The nature or genre of the resource sound Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource mp3 Relation A related resource <a href="http://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/show/3797" title="Typescript">Typescript</a> Language A language of the resource English Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context lec Tuck 2006-10-13 Subject The topic of the resource Baudelaire, Charles, 1821-1867 Friday night lecture Tutors https://s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/sjcdigitalarchives/original/d0c7b6450475c58968f5ffb667e0d2d4.mp3 9da145a137668977246b0d0ecb6043c5 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Description An account of the resource Items in this collection are part of a series of lectures given every year at St. John's College. During the Fall and Spring semesters, lectures are given on Friday nights. Items include audio and video recordings and typescripts.<br /><br />For more information, and a schedule of upcoming lectures, please visit the <strong><a href="http://www.sjc.edu/programs-and-events/annapolis/formal-lecture-series/" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">St. John's College website</a></strong>.  <br /><br />Click on <strong><a title="Formal Lecture Series" href="https://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/browse?collection=5&amp;sort_field=Dublin+Core%2CDate&amp;sort_dir=d">Items in the St. John's College Formal Lecture Series—Annapolis Collection</a></strong> to view and sort all items in the collection.<br /><br />A growing number of lecture recordings are also available on the St. John's College (Annapolis) Lectures podcast. Visit <a href="https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/st-johns-college-annapolis-lectures/id1695157772">Apple Podcasts</a> or <a href="https://open.spotify.com/show/6GDsIRqC8SWZ28AY72BsYM?si=f2ecfa9e247a456f" title="Spotify">Spotify</a> to listen and subscribe. Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource St. John's College Greenfield Library Title A name given to the resource St. John's College Formal Lecture Series—Annapolis Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context formallectureseriesannapolis Sound A resource primarily intended to be heard. Examples include a music playback file format, an audio compact disc, and recorded speech or sounds. Original Format The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data wav Duration Length of time involved (seconds, minutes, hours, days, class periods, etc.) 00:58:33 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Be a Sinner and Sin Boldly: Martin Luther and Christian Freedom Description An account of the resource Audio recording of a lecture delivered on November 10, 2017 by Thomas May as part of the Formal Lecture Series. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource May, Thomas Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available St. John's College Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 2017-11-10 Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource A signed permission form has been received stating, "I hereby grant St. John's College permission make an audio recording of my lecture, and retain copies for circulation and archival preservation at the St. John's College Greenfield Library. Make an audio recording of my lecture available online. Make typescript copies of my lecture available for circulation and archival preservation at the St. John's College Greenfield Library. Make a copy of my typescript available online." Type The nature or genre of the resource sound Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource mp3 Language A language of the resource English Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context May_Thomas_2017-11-10 Relation A related resource <a title="Typescript" href="http://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/show/3457">Typescript</a> Friday night lecture Tutors https://s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/sjcdigitalarchives/original/6844d2c102abe00b3c1dea89e7353e3c.pdf 6a4f2192255d183ae6ecde065d665824 PDF Text Text Lecture Be a Sinner and Sin Boldly: Martin Luther and Christian Freedom Tom May, tutor Friday, November 10, 2017 534th Anniversary of the birth of Martin Luther 500th Anniversary year of the Ninety‐Five Theses Prelude The name of Luther is not to be found in the formal listing of our program among those author teachers who return to St. John’s every year but his presence and influence are very much with us, nevertheless, in the work of the freshman and sophomore years. As freshmen we learn to sing four chorales from Bach’s St. Matthew Passion. The chorale, a singable, metrical tune with a sacred text, is a musical form that originates with Luther, who wrote the words and sometimes the music to some thirty chorales. The most famous of these is Ein feste Burg ist unser Gott (A firm stronghold is our God), inspired by the words of Psalm 46: God is our refuge and strength. Bach’s Matthew Passion is written some 200 years later, and his chorale settings are both more regular and elaborate than any of Luther’s, and he is but one of the legatees of a rich tradition that begins with Luther and the reformed liturgy of the Lutheran church. The rich and varied tradition of hymns and spirituals since that are integral to worship and prayer, building up community, all flow from this innovation of Luther’s, no matter how simple or how elaborate, no matter which Chrstian denomination, Catholic or Protestant. The chorale is thus the musical expression of the faith of a community of believers using soul and voice to express the deepest yearnings of the human heart for God, whether in greatest joy or deepest sorrow. I think we have all felt some sense of the directness and power of this distinctive musical form as we learn and sing the Bach chorales and African American spirituals in Freshman Music. We should note here as we begin, too, that the biblical text of the Bach’s Matthew Passion is itself a setting of Luther’s vigorous German translation of Matthew’s narrative of the suffering and death of Jesus. Luther translated the entire New Testament, using the second edition of Erasmus’s Greek New Testament, the Textus Receptus of 1519, in a mere matter of ten to eleven weeks while in hiding in the Wartburg Castle, after the imperial ban pronounced upon him by the Diet at Worms in 1521. Luther’s was the first German translation from the original Koiné Greek text, and it was published in 1522, a media event when its first printing sold out in two months, followed by a series of others, which put this part of the Scriptures in 1 �the hands of whoever could read them. Luther thus initiated a truly revolutionary project that culminated with the publication of the entire Bible in German twelve years later, in 1534. Its appearance inspired in turn the numerous editions that subsequently appeared in other modern languages throughout Europe. Fast forward now to all of us here: Protestant, Catholic, Jew, Muslim, or Buddhist; believer and non–believer alike, using an array of translations old and new, who first read and ponder, then discuss and question and argue about the longest single series of readings in the Sophomore reading list all taken from this book—or is it a library?— called the Bible. This is not all “just history,” but begging your indulgence a bit longer, let me provide a brief account of how Luther “arrives on the scene,” to borrow a favorite phrase from Hegel. Faith and Reason, Conscience and Freedom In 1513, Albrecht, the younger of the two young Margraves of Brandenburg, having graduated from the University of Frankfurt‐am‐Oder and aspiring to a high ecclesiastical position, became the Archbishop of Magdeburg. Yet he also sought to become one of the seven electors of the Holy Roman Empire, like his older brother Dietrich, who had become Elector of Brandenburg, with the privilege and power of electing the next Emperor. So when the electoral see of Mainz became vacant the next year, Pope Leo X agreed to make Albrecht the Archbishop of Mainz if he would make a substantial contribution to the rebuilding of St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome and to this end he authorized the sale of indulgences in Albrecht’s two dioceses, thereby enabling him also to pay back the substantial loan he owed to the banking house of Fugger. It was the preaching and sale of indulgences that provoked a monk named Martin Luther to challenge the very principle of and corruption rife in this practice, and ultimately the power and authority of the Roman Catholic Church, with its spiritual, intellectual, political, and moral hegemony over a largely Christian Europe. Who was this Luther? It’s perhaps as important to know something about his experience and life in order to follow his thought as it is to know about Augustine’s life as we read the Confessions. Born in Saxony, Luther at age 19 is sent by his father, a manager of mines in Mansfeld, to the University of Erfurt, ultimately to qualify his son for the practical and profitable study of law. Luther studies philosophy for four years, earning a master’s degree from that faculty in 1505. In that same year, shortly after he has enrolled as a law student, he abruptly withdraws and enters the monastic Order of St. Augustine, a teaching order of strict religious observance. What accounts for Luther’s sudden change? On the way back home from Erfurt, he is caught in a powerful storm when a flash of lightning and a deafening thunderbolt bring him to his knees. In terror for his life and the state of his soul, he cries out, “Help me, St. Anne, “ and vows to become a monk. A year later (1506), he makes his final vows as a monk at Erfurt, begins his formal study of theology, and is ordained a priest in 1507; transferred the next year to the Augustinian monastery in the small town of Wittenberg with its newly founded university, he earns his bachelor’s 2 �degree in biblical theology there, and continues his studies for four more years, in order to become a doctor of theology in 1512. Theology frees him from duties he finds onerous as a lecturer in moral philosophy, such as teaching the Ethics of Aristotle and scholastic moral philosophy. Luther now can begin teaching biblical theology, lecturing first on Genesis and Psalms, and perhaps most importantly, Paul’s letters to the Romans and Galatians, using the controversial 1516 Greek New Testament of Erasmus, with a Latin translation that corrects the Latin Vulgate of Jerome, which until this time was the only version of the Bible known by Western Christians for nearly a thousand years. He is also reading extensively in the writings of Augustine, Jerome, and other early church fathers. Throughout this time of intensive study, Luther is a scrupulously observant monk, with a rigorous spiritual life of penance, fasting, and self‐mortification, sometimes spending as much as 6 hours in a single agonizing session of confession. Here is Luther’s own account of his state (see handout to follow text): Though I lived as a monk without reproach, I felt I was a sinner before God with an extremely disturbed conscience. I could not believe that he was placated by my satisfaction. I did not love, yes, I hated the righteous God who punishes sin‐ ners, and secretly, if not blasphemously, certainly murmuring greatly, I was angry with God and said, “As if, indeed, it is not enough, that miserable sinners, eternally lost through original sin, are crushed by every kind of calamity by the law of the Decalogue, without having God add pain to pain by the gospel threatening us with his righteousness and wrath!… (Luther, Preface to Latin Writings, Dillenberger, p.11) How dreadfully paradoxical: that one who devotes himself to the ascetic life of strict monastic observance with its daily round of community prayer and common life, and who has immersed himself in biblical study, including the learning of both Greek and Hebrew, in order to go beyond the limits of the Latin Vulgate and bring himself even closer to the original words and text of the Scriptures, should find himself in such a disturbed state. Luther despairs of his own salvation and finds nothing that he either has done or can do to be capable of providing a remedy. His words are reminiscent of the words of Eliphaz rebuking Job: Distress and anguish fill him with terror/ troubles overwhelm him…because he shakes his fist at God/ and vaunts himself against the Almighty....(15.24‐25) Luther is aware that such profound despair approaches the negative limit of the human soul. In the Summa Theologiae, St. Thomas Aquinas, whom Luther called “the greatest chatterbox among the scholastic theologians,” sees despair as an aversion from the immutable good that is God and thus contrary to the theological virtues of faith, hope, and charity, each of which has God as its object. It is thus among the greatest of sins; it leads to the death of the soul, and is thus unforgivable 3 �(ST IIa IIae, 20, 1 & 3). Nevertheless, the distraught Luther keeps raging—and reading: Thus I raged with a fierce and troubled conscience. Nevertheless, I beat importunately upon Paul at that place… (which is the first chapter of Romans, where Paul, quoting the prophet Habakuk (2.4) states: For in the gospel the righteousness (dikaiosunē) of God is revealed—a righteousness that is by faith from first to last, just as it is written: “The righteous (˙ò díkaios) will live by faith.”(Romans 1.16‐17, NIV) Luther continues: …most ardently desiring to know what St. Paul wanted…There I began to understand that the righteousness of God is that by which the righteous (one) of God—(the just man) is revealed by the gospel, namely, the passive righteousness with which the merciful God justifies us by faith. Here I felt that I was altogether born again and entered paradise itself through open gates. Thereupon I ran through scriptures from memory…and I extolled my sweetest word with a love as great as the hatred with which I had before hated the word ‘righteous of God.’ Thus that place in Paul was for me truly the gate to Paradise. What does this passive righteousness mean? Could it really be so that the arguments of moral philosophy from the ancients and the scholastics whom he was studying and teaching; his following the strict rules of his order; and the prescriptions and mandates of the Old and New Testaments; and his regimen of fasting and prayer, with frequent reception of the sacraments—that all of this effort and these works were needless and useless for salvation? That God imputes or attributes righteous‐ ness or justice to the believer because of the obedience of Christ? Is this the paradox of the cross, that in it death and gift coincide? — the paradox that Paul says is at once a stumbling block to the Jews and foolishness to the Greeks (1 Cor 1.23) This is Luther’s seminal—what should we call it? — insight, epiphany, experience, which comes to him while “beating importunately upon Paul.”— as life‐changing as his being thrown to the ground in the storm earlier. From his Table Talks, we learn that this realization occurred to him in the heated room (think of Descartes 100 years later, in similar circumstances—two vastly different kinds of certainty!) of his study in the tower of the Augustinian cloister when he was pondering Paul —his celebrated Tower Experience of 1519—two years after he has sent his famous Disputation on the Power of Indulgences (Ninety –five Theses) to Archbishop Albrecht. It’s analogous to the moment described in Confessions VIII.12.29, when Augustine hears the voice of a child on a swing from a neighboring garden singing, “Tolle, lege; tolle lege—Take up and read; take up and read,” which prompts him to open his Scriptures to a passage in Romans 13, whereby “instantly…by a light, as it were, of security infused into my heart—all gloom of doubt vanished away.” 4 �Certainty –at last! Suffice it to say that these moments of realization for both are not simply the work of reason, but neither are they wholly ineffable. Augustine writes, “For You converted me to yourself –Convertisti enim ad te.” Both leave us wondering about exactly what has happened and how; both move from being heart sick to being heart struck. Augustine leaves his common law wife of many years, mother of his son Adeodatus, and his profession as a rhetorician, and then presents himself for baptism to Bishop Ambrose of Milan. Luther now reads Augustine’s lengthy, late treatise On the Spirit and the Letter, finding his own reading of Paul on righteousness confirmed, for the most part. For both Augustine and Luther, it might be said that the way up and out is only by means of the way down. As different as each is as an individual, the anguish felt by both of them is a necessary, integral part of what each comes to experience and realize. Augustine summarizes the process with the most famous line of his Confessions: “You have made us for yourself and our hearts are restless (inquietum) until they rest in thee. (1.1.1) Luther’s disquiet has been more harrowing and agonizing, bringing him to the brink of the spiritual death of despair. He is convinced that whatever he might do cannot count for anything as far as justifying him before God. All of this endless, active, toilsome, fruitless labor of achieving salvation on his own, would be like me trying to get across College Creek by rowing ever more vigorously on my ergometer. As he looks about him first at the life of the monastery and university, and then at the devotional piety of the ordinary Christians of Wittenberg, Luther sees two varieties of bondage that appear to him to stem from a common source: adherence to law. What may surprise us is that this includes all laws—the human laws of the social order, the natural law so central to the philosophers, and even the divine law of the Torah, as he just said explicitly. But then there is the gospel itself, transformed into a moral catechism, an additional set of prescriptions “threatening us with righteousness and wrath.” In his Lectures on Galatians 1519, Luther claims that such a reading is tantamount to a perversion and betrayal of the gospel, “teaching people nothing but decrees of popes and traditions of men….treated in such a way that it does not differ at all from laws and moral precepts.” (LG I.176) He recognizes a deep spiritual kinship with Paul, the apostle who was thrown off his horse on the road to Damascus, hearing a voice that turned him around, who was the first to come to the Galatians, proclaiming what God had achieved through Jesus the Messiah both in justification and with the gift of the Holy Spirit; the very Paul who then finds upon his return to them that his message had been modified by other preachers from Jerusalem who claimed that justification is incomplete without also observing the works of the law, such as circumcision and the ceremonial law of the Torah; Jesus himself had observed these laws and so‐‐these preachers say‐‐must the Galatians. Paul, with characteristic zeal both rebukes them and underlines his original message: You foolish Galatians! Who has bewitched you? Before your very eyes Jesus 5 � Christ was portrayed as crucified… Did you receive the Spirit by the works of the law or by believing what you heard? Are you so foolish? So again I ask, does God give you his Spirit and work miracles among you by the works of the law or by believing what you heard? So Abraham “believed God and it was cre‐ dited to him as righteousness.” (Paul here quotes Genesis 15.6) Understand, then, that those who have faith are children of Abraham. (Galatians, 3.1‐8; see also Romans 4. 9 ff) In Paul’s reading of Genesis, Abraham’s righteousness is credited to him not because of his adherence to or reliance upon the works of the law but through his unwav‐ ering faith in God’s promise that despite their advanced age, he with Sarah will become the father of many nations. Luther notes that in this Paul… …totally demolishes reliance on our own righteousness, because there is need of a far different righteousness – a righteousness beyond all works of the Law, namely, a righteousness of the works of God and His grace. (LG 2.223) Luther realizes from this that it is by faith alone (sola fide) and divine grace alone (sola gratia) that he was relieved of the torments of despair he experienced. Recalling the parable of the Pharisee and the tax collector who go up to the temple to pray, as related in Luke’s gospel (10.9‐14), he identifies himself with the latter, who, standing at a distance, beats his breast in contrition and prays, “God have mercy on me a sinner.” Luther emphasizes the importance of the final lines of Jesus in this telling parable: I tell you this man, rather than the other, went home justified before God. For all who exalt themselves will be humbled , and those who humble them‐ selves will be exalted. (10.14) Is this the only way then? Where is this faith: in the heart? in the head? in works? Luther throughout his Lectures on Galatians, both this early work of 1519 and the larger later Lectures of 1535, stresses that there are two ways in which human beings can be justified, and they are as contrary as the ways of the Pharisee and the tax collector in Luke. Listen and consider here his critique of the Philosopher: …there is the external way, by works, on the basis of one’s own strength. Of such a nature is human righteousness, which we acquire by practice and by habit. This is the kind of righteousness Aristotle and the other philosophers describe – the kind produced by the laws of the state and the church in cere‐ monies, the kind produced at the behest of reason and by prudence. For they think that one becomes righteous by doing righteous things, temper‐ ate by doing temperate things, and the like…the kind of righteousness the Law of Moses, even the Decalogue itself, also brings about , namely, when one serves God out of fear of punishment or because of the promise of a reward, does not swear by God’s name, honors one’s parents…etc. This is a servile righteousness; it is mercenary, feigned, specious, external, tempor‐ 6 � al, worldly, human. It profits nothing for the glory to come but receives in this life its reward, glory, riches, honor, power, friendship, well‐being, or at least peace and quiet, and fewer evils than those who act otherwise. This is how Christ describes the Pharisees and how St. Augustine describes the Romans in the first book of The City of God. (I.8) (LG, 2.219) Luther speaks here not only from his knowledge of Aristotle, whose Ethics he has taught at Erfurt and Wittenberg, and from the Scriptures to which he now devotes himself exclusively, but especially from his own immense struggle to make himself worthy. A preoccupation with laws and traditions leads to the kind of busyness with works that leads to a forgetfulness of love. As Luther reads in Galatians 5.14, “For the whole Law is fulfilled in this one word: You shall love your neighbor as yourself,” he is prompted to ask: Why then do we busy ourselves with many books? Why do we look for many teachers? Why do we exert ourselves with works and righteousness? All laws, all books, and all works must be tested according to this inward feeling and disposition of the heart…external patterns do not motivate us us sufficiently, because they are not felt and are not alive. This pattern however is felt within; it is alive, and it teaches most effectively, not with letters, not with words, and not with thoughts, but with the actual feeling of experience... a living indication, an inward reminder, a proof…of what you owe your neighbor. You owe him exactly what you owe yourself, and…from the same disposition of heart. (LG, 5.351) In contrast to this inner disposition, seeking indulgences, keeping vigils, building churches and chantries, observing memorials, and anniversaries “serve gain more than love.” So this inward disposition of love, this feeling is the pattern then?! Isn’t this going back to nature, Aristotle’s central notion in his Nicomachean Ethics, which, by the way, neither enjoins love of neighbor universally nor allows the possibility of friendship with a god because of the problem of inequality in both instances (1158b29‐1159a5). So is this disposition of love that Luther finds not only in Paul, but in Deuteronomy 30.14 –“the word is very near to you; it is in your mouth and in your heart, so you may obey it (and I Peter as well) simply and purely good? Luther here remembers that moral theology might warn that “nature is a most deceitful emulator of grace,” to which he replies, ”I admit that nature tries mightily to emulate grace, but only as far as to the cross” where “it turns aside completely and fights against grace,” being offended. (LG 5.353) The cross becomes “the Lydian touchstone” (used to assay silver and gold) enabling me to assay whether I am truly a friend of my neighbor. How so? Because it points to, demands (?) something beyond what is pleasant or advantageous or useful or even agreeably virtuous in my neighbor, viz., in its highest form the agapē that Paul describes in 1 Corinthians 13, the highest , ever enduring love. Luther recalls the formulation in the Sermon on the Mount (Mt 7.13) where Jesus says, “Whatever you wish that men would do to you, do so to them,” and then confesses the “bold opinion” that perhaps the self‐ interested love that forgets neighbor and looks intently on its own interests alone 7 �can become “the right kind of love when one forgets oneself and serves only one’s neighbor.” The love that is wrong when it is simply “in itself” is of a different order when it is “outside itself in God.” (LG, 5.35) He then continues: …with my affection for myself and my love for myself completely dead, I look for nothing but that God’s completely undefiled will be done in me. This is arduous and very difficult, and for nature it is impossible. (LG, 5.356) This becomes possible only “once the spirit of love has been received by the hearing of faith.” Self‐serving adages such as “I must first be a neighbor to myself” or” I’m my own best friend” or “Charity begins at home,” unqualified by the recognition that “You must be a neighbor to someone else,” are “heathen” and “perverted,” contrary to the spirit. As political beings we must look beyond the self to the field of the other as neighbor and to the even larger social realm, where each must be subject to “the laws of emperors, of popes, of towns, of states, and of provinces only”—here he reminds us – “as Christ says, (Mt.17.27) to avoid giving offense to them and in order not to injure love and peace.” (LG, 5.358), thereby avoiding schisms and dissensions. Luther now confesses that he is “in the habit of calling certain papal laws acts of tyranny”… because they “are merely devices for snaring money by means of indulgences “ serving “godlessness,” destroying “true righteousness and love.” Then, quite surprisingly, he adds, “Nevertheless, for the sake of love they should be observed wherever contempt for them would cause offense.”(LG 5.358) All the same, Paul tells the Galatians to walk by the Spirit and not to gratify the desires of the flesh (Galatians 5.16), and here Luther, again citing Augustine, (Retractations 1.24) notes that not having or not acting on these desires can happen only “when we no longer have our mortal flesh;” even the saints are still partly carnal, though spiritual inwardly: No one can avoid desires, but it is possible for us to keep from obeying them.(LG 5.361) Those in the church are indeed in the process of being healed, but are not fully healthy: “For the latter reason we are called ‘flesh’; for the former, ‘spirit’”(LG 5. 364) “It is the whole man who loves chastity, and the same whole man is titillated by the enticements of lust ‐‐ willing and unwilling.” Thus he recalls Augustine’s struggle with the divided will in Confessions 8. And Luther surprises us readers again: “Yet this too is the glory of the grace of God; it makes us enemies of ourselves…this is how it overcomes sin…the leaven is hidden in three measures until the whole is leavened ,” citing what is perhaps Matthew’s shortest parable: “The kingdom of heaven is like yeast that a woman took and mixed with three measures of wheat flour until the whole batch was leavened.” (Mt 13.33) “Until the whole batch was leavened.” This process takes time and effects a substantial change; flour and water and salt and yeast become bread once the bread has risen and been baked. Paul goes on to say to his Galatians, “For these (flesh and spirit) are opposed to each other, to prevent you from doing what you would.” 8 �Luther here exclaims in amazement, ”Look at how bold the apostle is!” saying “what we want cannot be done even though we ( the scholastic theologians) have established the will (certainly on Aristotle’s authority) as the queen and mistress of all our powers and actions. Luther is perhaps recalling the passage in Book 3 of the Nicomachaean Ethics, where Aristotle identifies the rational human being as the source of actions, and deliberation (bouleusis) sets out to discover actions within one’s own power to perform. He then says that what is deliberated and what is chosen are the same thing, adding that “if, among the things that are up to us, the desired thing that has been deliberated upon is what is chosen, choice (proairesis) would be the deliberate desire of things that are up to us.” (1113a 3‐10) Desire is thus modified and informed by thought and choice, and acts in accord with what one of good character would do. But Paul, in Romans, clearly contradicts this and says, ”But I am carnal, sold under sin. The good that I want I do not do. The evil that I do not want, this I do.” (Romans 7.14) Now Luther asks: “If one who is righteous and saintly complains of his sin in this way, where will the sinner and ungodly appear with their works among those who are good in general, and morally good at that? The grace of God has not made the will per‐ fectly free. Will the sinner make himself free? Why are we not showing good sense? (LG, 5.364) Philosophy is to no avail here and has even led us astray in our quest for self ‐ knowledge. The Book of Psalms is a better resource for self–knowledge than the Nicomacean Ethics; remember King David’s pouring out his heart to God: “in sin my mother conceived me.. Still you insist upon sincerity of heart; in my inmost being you teach me wisdom…My sacrifice, O God, is a broken spirit; O God, do not spurn a broken, humbled heart.” Psalm 51. 7‐8; 19. This struggle between spirit and flesh is not resolved in this life, even when the flesh is subdued in some respects—I‘m reminded of the colleague who having stopped smoking for a number of years told me that if she were to be diagnosed with a terminal illness, she would take up cigarettes again.—If the heart is irresolute, no work is resolute either, which “prevents us from fulfilling the law perfectly.” (LG 5.365) Paul has no knowledge of Aristotle, but Luther who does understands that the flesh ‐‐ the whole human being as descended from fallen Adam ‐‐ the flesh is the one condition that mitigates and impairs the life of the spirit. The battle between spirit and flesh prevents us from fulfilling the Law perfectly, so that “in every work we need the forgiving mercy of God and must say, and here Luther remembers Psalm 143.2 “Enter not into judgment with thy servant, O Lord, for no man living is righteous before thee.” Luther in his later, longer commentary on Galatians of 1535 9 �encapsulates this paradoxical condition of the human being as “simul justus et peccator” – at once/at the same time righteous and a sinner. To consider further the meaning of this formulation, we can now turn to what Luther calls with uncharacteristic understatement his “little book.” On the Freedom of a Christian In the year after Luther publishes these lectures on Paul to the Galatians, he writes one of his most popular, concise, and influential works, On the Freedom of a Christian, a mere twenty‐five pages in length in the online version. In it he sets out to determine what a Christian is and what the nature of the freedom obtained for the believer by Christ is. It begins with the enunciation of two apparently contradictory conclusions (see handout): A Christian is a perfectly free lord of all things and subject to no one. A Christian is a perfectly dutiful servant in all things, subject to everyone. (FC, 18) Both of these are distilled from two passages in Paul: I am free in all things and have made myself a servant of everyone. 1 Cor 9.19 You shall owe no one anything, except that you love one another. Rom 13.8 As menschen, anthropoi, persons, we are at once spiritual and physical beings, soul and body, and thus what Luther terms the internal and external man. The soul itself as the internal aspect of our being is ultimately unaltered by the states that affect the body‐‐health or sickness, freedom or imprisonment. There is nothing but the word of God in the gospel as preached by Jesus that can bring life to this interior, spiritual man; Luther here quotes the Gospel of John: I am the resurrection and the life; whoever believes in me lives forever (11.1); and of Matthew: Man does not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God (4.4). Everything else is dispensable; belief in these words is the fulfillment of all the commandments and the only piety. Faith alone is sufficient and the only work is the establishment of the word and Christ within the soul, by constantly exercising and strengthening it. (FC,22) It is apparent how crucial for the believer access to the Bible, the word of God, is. More specifically, though, what of the commandments and the law? It seems they are to be studied and what they prescribe is to be attempted only “So that man might see within them his own incapacity and learn to despair of himself,” and of all that she might hope to do by her own efforts. Proof? Consider the prescription in Exodus 20.17: You shall not covet… Who doesn’t have such desires; who, then, can fulfill the law? Self‐knowledge again: no one, save God, who declared these laws and alone fulfills them in Christ, the Word, who is at once commandment (as divine 10 �Word) and fulfillment (as incarnate Word). (FC 24.) Recall the words of Jesus in Matthew 5.17: Do not think that I have come to abolish the law or the prophets. I have come not to abolish but to fulfill. These are the words of promise to whoever firmly adheres to them in faith, enabling them to become children of God (John 1.12) Good works alone are incapable of this. Thus released from commandments and laws by the life, death and resurrection of Christ, a radically new freedom is born. Luther continues: That is Christian freedom: faith alone, which does not lead us to live in idleness or do wickedness, but instead means that we require no works to obtain piety and salvation…there is no greater dishonor than for the soul not to believe God (about this, thus denying God, and raising) her own mind up as an idol in her heart….(whereas to honor God through faith, God honors her in turn, and deems her pious and truthful…FC 25) This is all effected through Christ. Luther now presents one of his most striking images, that of the believing soul as a bride wearing the wedding ring of faith, “dowered with the eternal righteousness of her bridegroom Christ,” now absolved in this joyous exchange and unfettered from all her sins. He sees this as the fulfillment of the first commandment of the Decalogue (Exodus 20.2‐3): I, the Lord, am your God…You shall not have other gods besides me; the only act on the part of the soul is to ‘plight its troth’ and thus “faith alone fulfills all commandments…without all other works.” (FC 26). Note here that Luther speaks movingly of the individual soul. His use of the marriage simile is thus not the traditional one of the church as the bride of Christ, derived from Paul’s letter to the Ephesians (5.22‐33), where the apostle compares the intimate relationship of Christ to the church (ekklesía) to the marriage relation of husband and wife in becoming one flesh. Moreover, the “You” of the Exodus passage is addressed to all of Israel. As Luther continues his reflection on the internal man, he adds that faith empowers the believing soul with both priestly and kingly powers: as a priest standing invisibly before God and interceding for others; as a king having spiritual sovereignty over the body and all material things, so that … I can improve in my soul without the aid of any object, and even death and suffering must serve me and be useful to my salvation (FC 28) As he completes his exposition of duties of the Internal Man, of the soul as priest and sovereign, he looks to the current teaching and preaching practice of the church: There are also many who preach and lecture about Christ in order to evoke sympathy with Him, to rage against the Jews, or thereby to act in some other even more childish manner. However, Christ should and must be preached such that faith grows and is preserved in me and you. (FC 30) 11 �Even without the perspective of the past 500 years, it is striking how distant in tone this passage is from Luther’s later horrific diatribe (1543) Of the Jews and their Lies, which calls for the civil authorities to banish the Jews and to burn their synagogues. Luther now turns to the external man. If faith does all of this and is in all things sufficient to make one righteous, how can good works have any place in the life of the believer and why are they commanded? Aren’t things as fine as if I’d won the spiritual lottery? What a bargain! Nothing needs be done. By now we should not be surprised at Luther’s reply: No, my dear man, not so. It would be fine if you were solely an internal man and became completely spiritual and internal, but this will not happen until Judgment Day…there is only a beginning…which the apostle called…the first fruits of the Spirit. (FC 31) Paul also says that creation “yearns and groans inwardly, eagerly awaiting the adoption and redemption of our body” (Romans 8.22‐23). The flesh wants to serve the world and follow its own desires—the will balks despite the faith of the soul. Idleness gives free rein to concupiscence, requiring the restraining discipline of good works, done “gratuitously and freely out of love,”(FC 32), not seeking from this any benefit or salvation, “but only to please God.” (FC 34) Our nature is such that it wants to plume itself on its acts of virtue, laying belief and its promise aside, making both the works and the worker “evil and damned.”(FC 36) The commandments and the law each have their place, but they must be understood as the source from which self knowledge begins and contrition” flows, “ the heart must first be broken, and faith then “flows “from the assurances of God. Luther earlier neatly summarized this in this way: We do not become righteous by doing righteous deeds, but having been made righteous, we do righteous deeds. (Disputation Concerning Scholastic Theology,§ 40, 1517) Luther continues to use this metaphor of flowing in the final section of this treatise as he considers our relationships to each other. Once I realize that my freedom flows to me from a loving God through Christ, requiring that I do nothing more than believe it is so with a truly believing heart, I look to my neighbor and become a Christ, so that there ”flows from faith and from love a free, willing, happy life of serving one’s neighbor.” (FC 39) Note here the intended range of this flow. It is meant to be universal, so that the work of love, of charity or agape, is the work of all of the faithful by virtue of their baptism and is not restricted to the religious professionals and specialists—priests, monks, nuns, and all professed religious, and Luther again affirms that this work is quite distinct from the saving power of faith. Sin boldly… Each of us thus has a vocation, a Beruf, a calling that is more than a mere job, which puts us at the service of others and not for our own benefit, whether material or spiritual. This call is an immense challenge, in which we can never achieve 12 �perfection here. The reformation is thus neither a single moment of history that occurred 500 years ago nor a single event in a human life, but an ongoing endeavor, to be accomplished only at the end of time and with the coming of Christ. THE Reformation has not happened yet. Meanwhile, the demands of this life can be daunting and discouraging. Luther’s close friend, Philipp Melancthon, 24 years old, a brilliant Greek scholar and theologian, found himself overcome with uncertainty, indecision, and a feeling of utter inadequacy while Luther was away, secluded in hiding at the Wartburg Castle, after the Diet at Worms. He wrote to Luther asking him what he should do in the wake of the rapid and chaotic developments in Wittenberg and elsewhere in Saxony during the reformer’s long absence. Luther as pastor and friend replies to his young colleague with a concern and compassion that at once embody his understanding of Christian freedom and at the same time shows his great pastoral sensitivity to Melancthon’s anguish and hesitation: If you are a preacher of grace, then preach a true and not a fictitious grace; if grace is true, you must bear a true and not a fictitious sin. God does not save people who are only fictitious sinners. Be a sinner and sin boldly, but believe and rejoice in Christ even more boldly, for he is victorious over sin, death, and the world. As long as we are in this world we have to sin. This life is not the dwelling place of righteousness but, as Peter says, we look for a new heaven and a new earth in which righteousness dwells (2 Peter 3:13). It is enough that by the riches of God’s glory we have come to know the Lamb that takes away the sin of the world. (Letter to Melancthon, August 1, 1521) Grace is not a fiction, and neither is sin. This life is a struggle and a battle in which choices must be made, work must be done, often without the requisite knowledge and resolve that make them right and certain. We need to recall again how and why Luther comes to this understanding of sin and grace -- his account of his own existential struggle, which we considered as we began here. He began with his ardent desire for God and his experience of willing the good, yet being unable to control the direction of his will, which resulted in sin. This led him first to the depths of despair and then to the recognition that he could only do what he ought, what he truly wanted in the highest sense to do, by going outside of himself, by living in Christ the creative Word who made and redeemed him and all who believe. In his anguish, Melancthon, whom Luther recognizes as a “preacher of grace,” demonstrates this same striving and transcendent belief. It is to such a one that Luther can say with discernment and compassion: “Be a sinner and sin boldly, but believe and rejoice in Christ even more boldly, for he is victorious over sin, death, and the world.” It seems we then come full circle. Luther concludes this letter with the image of the Agnus Dei, the spotless lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world, the very image that Bach and Picander celebrate and lift up in the music and poetry of the opening chorus, the Exordium, of the Matthäus Passion, when the ripieno choir of sopranos sings the chorale O Lamm Gottes Unschuldig in the brilliant key of G Major over the turbulent double chorus beneath in the key of e minor, the key of grieving yet with hope, here, where we all are. 13 � Bibliography Aquinas, Thomas. The Summa Theologica of St. Thomas Aquinas, Vol. 1. Fathers of The English Dominican Province, trans., New York, 1947. Arisotle. Nicomachean Ethics, H. Rackham trans., Harvard, 1982. Hendrix, Scott H., Martin Luther: Visionary Reformer, Yale, 2015. Kolb, Robert; Dingel, Irene; Batka, Lubomir, eds. Oxford Handbook of Martin Luther’s Theology, Oxford, 2014. Luther, Martin, Luther’s Works, Vol. 27, Lectures on Galatians, 1519, St. Louis, 1964. (LG) Commentary on St. Paul’s Epistle to the Galatians, 1535, Middleton Edition, London, 1953. On the Freedom of a Christian with Related Texts. Tryntje Helfferich, Indianapolis, 2013. (FC) Mellers, Wilfrid, Bach and the Dance of God, Oxford, 1980. Oberman, Heiko. Luther: Man Between God and the Devil, Eileen Walischer‐ Schwartzbart, trans., Yale, 1987. Roper, Lyndal. Martin Luther: Renegade and Prophet, New York, 2016. Shilling, Heinz, Martin Luther: Rebel in an Age of Upheaval, Ronald Johnson, trans., Oxford, 2017. 14 � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Description An account of the resource Items in this collection are part of a series of lectures given every year at St. John's College. During the Fall and Spring semesters, lectures are given on Friday nights. 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Page numeration Number of pages in the original item. 14 pages Original Format The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data Microsoft Word document Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Be a Sinner and Sin Boldly: Martin Luther and Christian Freedom Description An account of the resource Typescript of a lecture delivered on November 10, 2017 by Thomas May as part of the Formal Lecture Series. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource May, Thomas Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available St. John's College Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 2017-11-10 Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource A signed permission form has been received stating, "I hereby grant St. John's College permission make an audio recording of my lecture, and retain copies for circulation and archival preservation at the St. John's College Greenfield Library. Make an audio recording of my lecture available online. Make typescript copies of my lecture available for circulation and archival preservation at the St. John's College Greenfield Library. Make a copy of my typescript available online." Type The nature or genre of the resource text Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource pdf Relation A related resource <a title="Audio Recording" href="http://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/show/3454">Sound recording</a> Language A language of the resource English Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context May_Thomas_2017-11-10_Typescript Friday night lecture Tutors https://s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/sjcdigitalarchives/original/1f205bfa7d11d16aac20b5d100baf187.jpg f8cd1395d6249ef2d112ffa7cbdbb516 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Image Collection—Annapolis Description An account of the resource <p>The Greenfield Library Image Collection houses over 5,000 photographs, postcards, drawings, and other graphic materials.  The images in the collection document the history, academic, and community life of St. John’s College. </p> To learn more about the Greenfield Library's archives use policy or to obtain high-resolution images, please see the <strong><a title="Image Collection Use Policy" href="http://www.sjc.edu/academic-programs/libraries/greenfield-library/policies/#photographicarchivepolicy" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Library’s Image Collection Use Policy</a></strong>.<br /><br />Click on <strong><a title="Photographic Archives" href="http://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/browse?collection=7">Items in the Image Collection—Annapolis Collection</a></strong> to view and sort all items in the collection. Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available St. John's College Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource St. John's College Greenfield Library Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context imagecollectionannapolis Still Image A static visual representation. Examples include paintings, drawings, graphic designs, plans and maps. Recommended best practice is to assign the type Text to images of textual materials. Original Format The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data photograph Physical Dimensions The actual physical size of the original image 20.25 x 25.25 cm. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Beate Ruhm von Oppen playing the piano Description An account of the resource 1 photographic print : b&w Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1978 Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context COM-FAC-RUHM-P-0005 Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource jpeg Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource St. John’s College owns the rights to this photograph. Type The nature or genre of the resource still image Subject The topic of the resource Ruhm von Oppen, Beate Tutors https://s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/sjcdigitalarchives/original/5acbb8bba629237dac82029a24d8bd2f.jpg bc67dc7742695ed5b1183a5aa3dca2ed Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Image Collection—Annapolis Description An account of the resource <p>The Greenfield Library Image Collection houses over 5,000 photographs, postcards, drawings, and other graphic materials.  The images in the collection document the history, academic, and community life of St. John’s College. </p> To learn more about the Greenfield Library's archives use policy or to obtain high-resolution images, please see the <strong><a title="Image Collection Use Policy" href="http://www.sjc.edu/academic-programs/libraries/greenfield-library/policies/#photographicarchivepolicy" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Library’s Image Collection Use Policy</a></strong>.<br /><br />Click on <strong><a title="Photographic Archives" href="http://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/browse?collection=7">Items in the Image Collection—Annapolis Collection</a></strong> to view and sort all items in the collection. Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available St. John's College Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource St. John's College Greenfield Library Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context imagecollectionannapolis Still Image A static visual representation. Examples include paintings, drawings, graphic designs, plans and maps. Recommended best practice is to assign the type Text to images of textual materials. Original Format The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data photograph Physical Dimensions The actual physical size of the original image 17.75 x 12.5 cm. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Beate Ruhm von Oppen turning a page of music while Douglas Allanbrook plays piano Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context COM-FAC-RUHM-P-0003 Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource jpeg Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource St. John’s College owns the rights to this photograph. Type The nature or genre of the resource still image Description An account of the resource 1 photographic print : b&w Subject The topic of the resource Ruhm von Oppen, Beate Allanbrook, Douglas Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1975-1980 [circa] Tutors https://s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/sjcdigitalarchives/original/c108b2ddcc1c98cf4519d3ca9842abe5.mp3 2b6b68d6aa54b520089b7216e021c9ca Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource St. John's College Lecture Recordings—Santa Fe Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource St. John's College Meem Library Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Santa Fe, NM Sound A resource primarily intended to be heard. Examples include a music playback file format, an audio compact disc, and recorded speech or sounds. Original Format The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data wav Duration Length of time involved (seconds, minutes, hours, days, class periods, etc.) 00:55:59 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Beauvoir and the Great Books : reading and living in Old Age Description An account of the resource Audio recording of a lecture given on February 7, 2020 by Blake Smith as part of the Dean's Lecture and Concert Series. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Smith, Blake Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available St. John's College Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Santa Fe, NM Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 2020-02-07 Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource Meem Library has been given permission to make this item available online. Type The nature or genre of the resource sound Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource mp3 Subject The topic of the resource Beauvoir, Simone de, 1908-1986. Vieillesse. English Language A language of the resource English Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context SF_SmithB_Beauvoir_and_the_Great_Books_2020-02-07 Friday night lecture https://s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/sjcdigitalarchives/original/ad640b97e9c2c7773ddcaa5e1a1f8f27.mp4 7159751b94d8319dfaf0122ebc52eb78 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Description An account of the resource Items in this collection are part of a series of lectures given every year at St. John's College. During the Fall and Spring semesters, lectures are given on Friday nights. Items include audio and video recordings and typescripts.<br /><br />For more information, and a schedule of upcoming lectures, please visit the <strong><a href="http://www.sjc.edu/programs-and-events/annapolis/formal-lecture-series/" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">St. John's College website</a></strong>.  <br /><br />Click on <strong><a title="Formal Lecture Series" href="https://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/browse?collection=5&amp;sort_field=Dublin+Core%2CDate&amp;sort_dir=d">Items in the St. John's College Formal Lecture Series—Annapolis Collection</a></strong> to view and sort all items in the collection.<br /><br />A growing number of lecture recordings are also available on the St. John's College (Annapolis) Lectures podcast. Visit <a href="https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/st-johns-college-annapolis-lectures/id1695157772">Apple Podcasts</a> or <a href="https://open.spotify.com/show/6GDsIRqC8SWZ28AY72BsYM?si=f2ecfa9e247a456f" title="Spotify">Spotify</a> to listen and subscribe. Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource St. John's College Greenfield Library Title A name given to the resource St. John's College Formal Lecture Series—Annapolis Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context formallectureseriesannapolis Moving Image A series of visual representations imparting an impression of motion when shown in succession. Examples include animations, movies, television programs, videos, zoetropes, or visual output from a simulation. Original Format The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data live YouTube webcast Duration Length of time involved (seconds, minutes, hours, days, class periods, etc.) 00:55:09 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Becoming (A) Woman in <em>La Princesse de Clèves</em> Description An account of the resource Video recording of a lecture delivered by Patricia Locke, Annapolis tutor on October 2, 2020, as part of the Formal Lecture Series. <br /><br />Ms. Locke describes her lecture: "Madame de Lafayette’s book, <em>La Princesse de Clèves</em>, is one of the earliest novels of psychological realism, while at the same time it offers us an idealized description of an historical milieu. Our protagonist must wend her way through the Valois court, find Mr. Right, and become (a) woman in order to deal with the twin challenges of love and death. I argue that Simone de Beauvoir’s famous sentence, 'one is not born, but becomes, woman,' is tested in this novel. Will young Mlle de Chartres learn how to be 'woman' through her education? Or will she be able to transcend her education through her experience of the passions of jealousy, fear, and grief to become 'a woman' of inimitable virtue?" Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Locke, Patricia M. Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available St. John's College Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 2020-10-02 Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource A signed permission form has been received stating, "I hereby grant St. John's College permission to: Make an audiovisual recording of my lecture, and retain copies for circulation and archival preservation in the St. John's College Greenfield Library. Make an audiovisual recording of my lecture available online. Make a typescript copy of my lecture available for circulation and archival preservation in the St. John's College Greenfield Library." Type The nature or genre of the resource moving image Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource mp4 Language A language of the resource English Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context LEC_Locke_Patricia_2020-10-02_ac Subject The topic of the resource La Fayette, Madame de (Marie-Madeleine Pioche de La Vergne), 1634-1693. Women--Identity Virtue in literature Marriage Love Friday night lecture Tutors https://s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/sjcdigitalarchives/original/bd5c9161c2dbdb10586b6981f64dbc06.jpg 7f4fbf86c3b4d15a6a733c4fed00fb34 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Image Collection—Annapolis Description An account of the resource <p>The Greenfield Library Image Collection houses over 5,000 photographs, postcards, drawings, and other graphic materials.  The images in the collection document the history, academic, and community life of St. John’s College. </p> To learn more about the Greenfield Library's archives use policy or to obtain high-resolution images, please see the <strong><a title="Image Collection Use Policy" href="http://www.sjc.edu/academic-programs/libraries/greenfield-library/policies/#photographicarchivepolicy" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Library’s Image Collection Use Policy</a></strong>.<br /><br />Click on <strong><a title="Photographic Archives" href="http://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/browse?collection=7">Items in the Image Collection—Annapolis Collection</a></strong> to view and sort all items in the collection. Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available St. John's College Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource St. John's College Greenfield Library Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context imagecollectionannapolis Still Image A static visual representation. Examples include paintings, drawings, graphic designs, plans and maps. Recommended best practice is to assign the type Text to images of textual materials. Physical Dimensions The actual physical size of the original image 25.5 x 20.5 cm. Original Format The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data Photograph Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context SJC-P-2149 Title A name given to the resource Beds in a College Infirmary Ward from the Yearbook, St. John's College, Annapolis, Maryland Description An account of the resource 1 photographic copy from yearbook : b&w Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Unknown Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Type The nature or genre of the resource Still image Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource jpeg Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource St. John's College owns the rights to this photograph. https://s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/sjcdigitalarchives/original/d577bac5ec4a2e4075dc8fbdbcc42107.pdf 96421d0737b5aac99eb4f437ef62c586 PDF Text Text ������� Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Speeches, presentations, and other lectures Description An account of the resource Speeches, presentations, and other lectures given at St. John's College. These include convocation addresses delivered in both Annapolis, MD and Santa Fe, NM.<br /><br />Click on <strong><a title="Speeches, presentations, and other lectures" href="http://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/browse?collection=15">Items in the Speeches, presentations, and other lectures Collection</a></strong> to <span>view and sort all items in the collection.</span> Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource St. John's College Greenfield Library Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context speechespresentationsotherlectures Text A resource consisting primarily of words for reading. Examples include books, letters, dissertations, poems, newspapers, articles, archives of mailing lists. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre Text. Original Format The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data paper Page numeration Number of pages in the original item. 6 pages Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Beginnings of community Description An account of the resource Transcript of an address given on May 21, 1999 by Stephen Van Luchene as part of the Baccalaureate service in Santa Fe, NM. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Van Luchene, Stephen R. Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available St. John's College Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Santa Fe, NM Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1999-05-21 Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource Meem Library has been given permission to make this item available online. Type The nature or genre of the resource text Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource pdf Subject The topic of the resource Communities Language A language of the resource English Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context 24003362 Baccalaureate service