Jo Walton, LENT (and status)
Though this book is written within the framework of Roman Catholicism of the 1400-1500s, it is not a Catholic book. It is a book celebrating Renaissance humanism.
A quick note laying down my understanding here.
Renaissance Humanism was not a philosophy. It was a cultural phenomenon flowering around the rediscovery of the classics. It was not antithetical to Christianity as it was developed, and celebrated, within the vast and lapidary complexity of Christian theology and mythology, but as far as I understand it (not being a Renaissance or a medieval scholar), it shifted the focus from the study of the next world to the study of this world, with man at the center. Studying-delighting in-things human, in particular good speaking, good writing, and above all, art, was acceptable because God had created humans in his own image.
We slide into that paradigm at the very start, when Girolamo Savonarola casts out demons. Even though not everybody sees demons, he does. He sees those demons, he casts them out, sending them straight back to Hell.
Which is a real place.
I’m not going to say anything more about the story, because this is one that is so much better experienced without any knowledge of what lies ahead. What I will say is that the exquisite, amazing, and often strange city of Florence is beautifully evoked here, where remarkable personalities lived, made art, debated. And died, sometimes terribly, because passion’s dark side is violence.
But it’s not a bleak book. Jo Walton writes so joyfully about humanism-people being the best selves they can be-in all her books.
I found that viewpoint especially breathtaking in this intense, vivid, transcendent book, leaving me in the good kind of tears at the end.
*****
In other news, I had eye surgery a few days ago. More coming in three weeks. The worst aspect was the IV beforehand. I hate needles. The person doing it tried five times to get my vein in my left arm, and then finally put the needle through my vein and so the stuff was going into the muscle. So then had to start over on the right. I am bruised up inside both elbows.
But if that's the worst thing, it isn't so bad, right?
Right now I have one lens in my glasses, so my depth perception is very, very skewed. Also, my color perception. The world is slightly flat and yellow in my left eye. My right eye, the world is bright and blue-tinged, and when I first went out to water the patio, the colors of my flowers were so intense my throat ached.
I can see details in the distance for the first time in several years, in my right eye. (The cataract there was pretty advanced.)
And all the jacarandas are in bloom, oh, such bloom because of the winter of rain! My lilies are also blooming, a few more each day.
This entry was originally posted at https://sartorias.dreamwidth.org/1005178.html. Please comment there using OpenID.
A quick note laying down my understanding here.
Renaissance Humanism was not a philosophy. It was a cultural phenomenon flowering around the rediscovery of the classics. It was not antithetical to Christianity as it was developed, and celebrated, within the vast and lapidary complexity of Christian theology and mythology, but as far as I understand it (not being a Renaissance or a medieval scholar), it shifted the focus from the study of the next world to the study of this world, with man at the center. Studying-delighting in-things human, in particular good speaking, good writing, and above all, art, was acceptable because God had created humans in his own image.
We slide into that paradigm at the very start, when Girolamo Savonarola casts out demons. Even though not everybody sees demons, he does. He sees those demons, he casts them out, sending them straight back to Hell.
Which is a real place.
I’m not going to say anything more about the story, because this is one that is so much better experienced without any knowledge of what lies ahead. What I will say is that the exquisite, amazing, and often strange city of Florence is beautifully evoked here, where remarkable personalities lived, made art, debated. And died, sometimes terribly, because passion’s dark side is violence.
But it’s not a bleak book. Jo Walton writes so joyfully about humanism-people being the best selves they can be-in all her books.
I found that viewpoint especially breathtaking in this intense, vivid, transcendent book, leaving me in the good kind of tears at the end.
*****
In other news, I had eye surgery a few days ago. More coming in three weeks. The worst aspect was the IV beforehand. I hate needles. The person doing it tried five times to get my vein in my left arm, and then finally put the needle through my vein and so the stuff was going into the muscle. So then had to start over on the right. I am bruised up inside both elbows.
But if that's the worst thing, it isn't so bad, right?
Right now I have one lens in my glasses, so my depth perception is very, very skewed. Also, my color perception. The world is slightly flat and yellow in my left eye. My right eye, the world is bright and blue-tinged, and when I first went out to water the patio, the colors of my flowers were so intense my throat ached.
I can see details in the distance for the first time in several years, in my right eye. (The cataract there was pretty advanced.)
And all the jacarandas are in bloom, oh, such bloom because of the winter of rain! My lilies are also blooming, a few more each day.
This entry was originally posted at https://sartorias.dreamwidth.org/1005178.html. Please comment there using OpenID.