It's conventional wisdom to think that the further along through history we go, the more we know about the times. Alas, not quite true. The case in point here is the third in the Everitt trio (Cicero, Augustus, Hadrian), for which the information available is the scantiest. This results in quite a bit of speculation of Everitt's part about why Hadrian or one of his contemporaries would do what they did.
Otherwise, this book does a real service of giving Hadrian his first proper biography since the early/mid 20th century. It is actually surprising he hasn't gotten more attention, giving the particular fascination in Britain, perhaps due to a certain wall up north. Also, in general, Hadrian is consider one of the "good" emperors, meaning he wasn't overtly crazy or cruel. He was born and raised firmly in imperial times, so he had no sense of life under the old Roman Republic, but he learned early in his reign to temper so of the more megalomaniacal impulses. Therefore, following his adopted father's expansionist impulses, Hadrian was an emperor of limits and restraint, a new thing for a Rome that previous knew no limits.
Hadrian was also a Lincoln type figure in that he inspired many of his successors to sport beards. In Hadrian's case, it may have been just as much to cover up spots as to honor Greek culture.
Finally, Everitt doesn't make Hadrian out to be angelic. His obsession with the young Antinous was so over-the-top as to just be weird, even for those who understand and accept that homosexuality in the ancient world was treated differently than in modern times. Also, his treatment of the Jews and Jerusalem was downright barbaric and quite possibly the inspiration for all acts of ethnic cleansing for the rest of time. Therefore it is hard for me to unreservedly call Hadrian "good", but I suppose compared to what lay behind (Nero, Caligula) and what lay ahead (Commodus and just about everyone after that), Rome had done and would do far worse.
Although I found my copy here where I work, this book is easy to find at most public libraries, as it targets a general readership.
Friday, August 26, 2016
Friday, August 19, 2016
Personal Writings (St. Ignatius of Loyola, 1522-1556)
Much like Journal of a Soul, the completion of this book was a "mop-up" operation. For class, most of our attention was on the short biographical sketch, spiritual diary (lots of crying at Mass), and the Spiritual Exercises. The forty or so letters that make up the bulk of the middle of this book, assembled in 1996 for Penguin Classics, were left for individual study and a paper. Therefore, during class I focused heavily on the seventh letter (more on that below) and heard the thoughts of the other students on a few of the other letters. It was interesting to go back, with one finger on the timeline of St. Ignatius's life, and read through the letters and reconstruct early Jesuit history, so I'm glad I spent the time doing so.
My "focus letter" was the seventh ("Blueprint for a New Order") in which Ignatius criticizes some of the failings of the new Theatine order, founded by future antagonist Pope Paul IV, to whom the letter is addressed. You can see Ignatius resolving not to follow the same path with the Jesuits, although their reforming goals are quite similar. Although there were many other insightful letters to choose from, I'm glad I picked this one.
As far as a reading this book cover to cover, it was a little challenging in spots. The quasi-contemporary biographical essay was fairly interesting, but the "spiritual diary" was a little strange, with Ignatius usually recording whether or not he cried at Mass and not a whole not more. The letters need to be read with some space in between each one, otherwise it ends up being a blur and not doing justice to each individual work. The final section, the Spiritual Exercises, are no doubt historically important, but at times feel like reading an instruction manual. I mean, it sort of is an instruction manual, and a very important one at that for the historical record, but it can be easy to glaze over the finer points if speed reading and trying to meet deadlines!
My "focus letter" was the seventh ("Blueprint for a New Order") in which Ignatius criticizes some of the failings of the new Theatine order, founded by future antagonist Pope Paul IV, to whom the letter is addressed. You can see Ignatius resolving not to follow the same path with the Jesuits, although their reforming goals are quite similar. Although there were many other insightful letters to choose from, I'm glad I picked this one.
As far as a reading this book cover to cover, it was a little challenging in spots. The quasi-contemporary biographical essay was fairly interesting, but the "spiritual diary" was a little strange, with Ignatius usually recording whether or not he cried at Mass and not a whole not more. The letters need to be read with some space in between each one, otherwise it ends up being a blur and not doing justice to each individual work. The final section, the Spiritual Exercises, are no doubt historically important, but at times feel like reading an instruction manual. I mean, it sort of is an instruction manual, and a very important one at that for the historical record, but it can be easy to glaze over the finer points if speed reading and trying to meet deadlines!
Wednesday, August 3, 2016
The Christian Tradition 2: The Spirit of Eastern Christendom 600-1700 (Jaroslav Pelikan, 1974)
Either I'm getting better at reading theological works, or Pelikan threw me a softball on this one. I'm hoping it is more of the former, but trying to cover 1100 years of history in one volume in roughly the same number of words as his masterful first volume (which covered "only" 500 years) would be a challenge for anyone, even a super-genius like Pelikan.
For a lot of us Western Christians (Catholics and Protestants alike), the Eastern Orthodox churches are mystical and mysterious. There is certainly elements of that, particularly later in the book when mysticism really took off. But Christianity in the East was primarily about arguing over the exact nature of Christ, the Trinity, the Holy Spirit, etc. using the expansive and excruciatingly detailed Greek language to make the distinctions those crude Latin-based tongues in the West were so woefully inadequate at doing. Never mind repeated invasions and the eventual destruction of the primary political vessel of Orthodoxy (the posthumously-named Byzantine Empire) during this time from both (further) East and West.
Pelikan spends a good deal of time discussing the Nestorians and Jacobite/Monophysite churches, heretical but enduring sects of Christianity with their own theological and philosophical constructs. Thanks to his even-handed treatment, one can understand why these churches were moderately successful, hanging out at the fringes of empire (and ultimately the first absorbed by a nascent Islam). That's not an easy task, considering almost all we know about these groups comes from their enemies' citations of their own work to be used against them.
Ultimately, the Slavs and Russians are poised at the end of this volume to inherit the theological mantle of the Byzantines. They don't get a whole lot of exposure in this book, even though the last 250 years of the coverage period are post-Byzantine, but Pelikan promises us a return to the East in the fifth and final volume of the series, something I'll probably tackle in 2017!
For a lot of us Western Christians (Catholics and Protestants alike), the Eastern Orthodox churches are mystical and mysterious. There is certainly elements of that, particularly later in the book when mysticism really took off. But Christianity in the East was primarily about arguing over the exact nature of Christ, the Trinity, the Holy Spirit, etc. using the expansive and excruciatingly detailed Greek language to make the distinctions those crude Latin-based tongues in the West were so woefully inadequate at doing. Never mind repeated invasions and the eventual destruction of the primary political vessel of Orthodoxy (the posthumously-named Byzantine Empire) during this time from both (further) East and West.
Pelikan spends a good deal of time discussing the Nestorians and Jacobite/Monophysite churches, heretical but enduring sects of Christianity with their own theological and philosophical constructs. Thanks to his even-handed treatment, one can understand why these churches were moderately successful, hanging out at the fringes of empire (and ultimately the first absorbed by a nascent Islam). That's not an easy task, considering almost all we know about these groups comes from their enemies' citations of their own work to be used against them.
Ultimately, the Slavs and Russians are poised at the end of this volume to inherit the theological mantle of the Byzantines. They don't get a whole lot of exposure in this book, even though the last 250 years of the coverage period are post-Byzantine, but Pelikan promises us a return to the East in the fifth and final volume of the series, something I'll probably tackle in 2017!
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